be right back where she’d been for most of her entire adult life.
An outsider. Anchorless. Different. Fatherless.
“Deidre?” Nick prompted quietly. She blinked. Had he noticed her anxiety? She took a deep breath.
“I’ve already had the genetic testing done at a place called GenLabs in Carson City.”
“You did?” he asked intently.
She nodded.
“When?”
“About three weeks ago. Lincoln asked me to have it done, but he died before we got the results,” she said, her hushed voice quaking. From the periphery of her vision she saw his hand came off his thigh jerkily, but then he replaced it. A strained silence followed. For a split second, she’d thought he meant to touch her … to comfort, before logic had set in. Her heart thrummed louder in her ears as she stared fixedly out the front window.
“And?” he asked in a subdued tone.
“They told me at the lab that the results would take up to seven weeks. We should have the results before Christmas. They agreed to call me and tell me the final result before they send out the report.”
She turned when he exhaled raggedly. He looked tense.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you glad that I’ve had the testing? It’s what you and John Kellerman and everybody at DuBois wanted all along.”
“Of course I’m glad. Now there’s nothing to do but get to know one another better. And wait.”
“Why should the results matter so much to you? I won’t make any claims on Lincoln’s assets one way or another.”
He laughed softly … mirthlessly. He had dimples. It had struck her as amazing the first time she’d met him to see those two indentations in such a formidable face. She recalled how once she’d seen some graffiti painted on a craggy rock face of the mountains several miles outside of the Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan—a smiley face grinning innocuously from a war zone.
She had a similar reaction to Nick’s dimples.
“You make it sound so simple,” he murmured.
“It is simple.”
“It never was simple, and it just got exponentially more complicated.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked slowly.
“I came to Harbor Town to tell you that Lincoln had a new will drawn up. He’s left you half of the wealth and property he didn’t leave to charity. He’s also left you a fifty percent controlling interest in DuBois Enterprises.”
“What?” she asked numbly.
“You’re an heiress, Deidre. The way things stand right now, you’re one of the wealthiest women in the country.”
She might have heard the flutter of a butterfly’s wings in the ensuing silence. She inhaled slowly, trying to ground herself. This could not be happening.
And yet … what was that strange, warm, wonderful feeling growing deep down in her belly?
He made me his heiress. Lincoln truly did believe I was his daughter. His faith was his proof. Lincoln hadn’t required the scientific variety.
Something shivered through her. It took Deidre a moment to recognize the feeling as pure joy.
Nick decided that if Deidre Kavanaugh had had any part in manipulating Linc to alter his will in her favor, she certainly was one hell of an actress. Every nuance of her face and body suggested she was utterly stunned by the news she was an heiress to a massive fortune.
“He didn’t,” she whispered, obviously in shock.
“He did.”
“Lincoln can’t have meant it. There must be a mistake. I’m a nurse, not a businesswoman,” she said hollowly.
“From your reaction, am I to assume you didn’t have prior knowledge of the change of will?”
“I had no idea,” she said. Her spine stiffened when he cocked one eyebrow in a show of subtle disbelief, testing her. She leaned across the console toward him. He caught the subtle scent of her floral perfume and, for a few seconds, his thoughts scattered. Deidre had a way of making him forget practical goals and objectives.
“I resent your tone,” she said. “I suppose you have it all worked out, don’t you? You figure I manipulated and cajoled a sick, vulnerable man into leaving me all his money, is that it?”
“What have I told you, time and again while we were at The Pines together, Deidre?” he murmured softly.
She snapped her jaw closed. He found himself studying her beautiful face cast in the dim dashboard lights. What was it about her? Her elegance mingled with a sort of bad-girl charm. She fascinated him, whether he wanted to be fascinated or not.
“That you’re Lincoln’s man,” she answered his question, her chin tilted at the stubborn angle to which he’d grown all too accustomed. “That you’ll do whatever is in your power to make sure his wishes are carried out,” she quoted the familiar refrain.
He nodded. Their meetings at The Pines had been few and fleeting, not to mention charged. Nevertheless, Nick was glad to hear he’d imparted that particular message loud and clear to her.
“There’s something else I want you to know,” Nick said.
“What?”
“Until I can rest assured you’re his daughter, that Lincoln was of sound mind when he drew up the new will, and that you had no part in coercing Lincoln’s actions in the last days of his life, I plan to contest the will.”
She flinched as if he’d just slapped her. Regret spiked through his awareness, the strength of it catching him off guard. She’d gotten under his skin. He could understand why Lincoln had been so taken by her. But the fact remained, the way things stood, there was a good chance Deidre and he would be sitting across a courtroom from each other sometime in the near future. He had no right to find her fascinating.
“You just don’t get it,” she said, her low voice shaking with fury. “I nursed and cared for Lincoln with every ounce of compassion and skill I possess. Ask any of the servants, or the hospice nurses, or Dr. Leland. Everything I did, I did with the hope of having him for another day … another minute.”
“That may be true. I’m suspending judgment on the matter.”
She gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “Suspending judgment until when?”
“Until I have the opportunity to observe you, understand your character, your motivations, your life. I’ll be staying in Harbor Town for the next few days or weeks or however long it takes to do that.”
“Who says I plan to stay in Harbor Town?”
He shrugged. “I’ll make a point
