Робин Грейди – At The Playboy's Command: Millionaire Playboy, Maverick Heiress (страница 21)
Where did he plan to take her?
Her riding boots crunching over gravel, Elizabeth strode up the path thinking Hawaii, Fiji, maybe even Australia. Then she spied an uninvited guest swinging on her back patio seat and spiraling anticipation turned to dread. She didn’t want to face that man today, but she should have known he’d show up.
Wanting to get it over with, she straightened her spine and picked up her pace.
“Morning, Chad.”
“I see Nita’s not around today,” he said, pushing out of the swing.
“Gone to see her mother. What can I do for you?”
“I received your correspondence this morning,” Chad said in his
Wiggling out of her gloves, she skirted around him. “I know you do.”
They’d had this conversation—confrontation—many times. In fact, every time she instructed Chad to write a check for a family in need. She’d heard all the arguments, and frankly, she was tired of them. But for her parents’ sake she’d tell him one more time.
“Through the terms of the will I receive a generous allowance.”
She didn’t need to involve Chad when lump expenditures came in under a certain amount. But from early on she’d decided not to let that constraint stand in the way of using her allowance when and how she saw fit.
She opened the back door. “My mother would approve of my helping those in need.”
“Your father wouldn’t. He’d want you to use every cent on assisting the Milton cause—keeping the place running and running well.”
Her temper spiked. “My father is
Clenching her gloves in one hand, she sucked down a leveling breath and moved through into the house. She hadn’t meant to snap. Neither would she be dictated to. Not one day more.
“Did you write the check?”
Chad answered her question with a question. “Have you made certain this woman’s story pans out?”
She had. She always did. But she was tired of playing this game. Of being treated like an infant. Was being in control and keeping her in the realm of “ward” so important to him?
“What is it to you what I do with my allowance? It’s not as if I’m gambling or drinking it away.”
“You might as well be.”
And that’s what she hated most about these discussions, she decided, balancing against a wall to heel off her boots. Although he usually kept his feelings low-key and would deny it if asked, Chad was a chauvinist. If she were Ethan Milton’s son rather than daughter he wouldn’t expect her to have capitulated this long.
She walked away. “I don’t wish to discuss it further.”
“Then it’s settled.”
She actually growled. “The only thing that’s settled is my impatience with you.”
His footfalls followed her into the hall. “Elizabeth, I’ll thank you not to address me in that manner.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You’re still vulnerable.”
Spinning on him, incredulous, she barked, “Because I’m a single woman?”
His expression changed, softened, and his palms came out as he stepped closer. “I want to look after you.”
“I don’t
“Listen to me—”
“You listen to
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“There is nothing wrong with my mind.”
His nostrils flared and voice lowered to a rasp.
“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”
Elizabeth didn’t stop to think. Her hand drew back then met his face.
Touching the stinging mark rising on his cheek, Chad nodded as if he knew he deserved it. But, still, he couldn’t let it lie.
“Daniel Warren doesn’t care a rat’s hindquarters for this place. That means he doesn’t care about you. Once he earns his money, you won’t see him for dust.”
“And wouldn’t you fall over with fright if I just happened to follow him.”
His face paled before a confident smile hooked one side of his mouth. “You wouldn’t desecrate your parents’ memory like that.”
“I’ll do whatever I damn well please.” Her face hot, tears pickling behind her eyes, she strode off. “Close the door on your way out.”
When Nita returned that evening, Elizabeth was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the study, plowing through her old university papers. One hand went behind to help stretch her back as she glanced up and smiled.
“I didn’t hear you drive up.”
Stepping between the patchwork of textbooks and data sheets, Nita tsked. “That’s because you’ve insulated yourself in here with all this paper. What are you looking for?”
Sighing, Elizabeth sat back on her heels.
“I chose a degree in psychology,” she said, collecting her final essay with the excellent grade, “because I wanted to help people.”
Bent, about to collect a pile of books, Nita froze. “Has something happened at the shelter?” Nita knew of Elizabeth’s work there and how she’d like to do more.
“No.” Elizabeth corrected herself. “Not exactly. A woman dropped off a letter here. I asked Chad to organize some funds.”
“Oh.” Above her glasses, Nita’s eyebrows lifted, as if that explained everything about Elizabeth’s low mood. She placed the books on the edge of the ornate 1920s timber desk, which had been Ethan Milton’s pride and joy.
“We had our usual tussle,” Elizabeth explained, “about whether I was being responsible with my parents’ money.”
“It’s
Still on the floor, Elizabeth blew a stream of air toward the ceiling. Their money. Her money. Wills and caveats and time sliding away. Twenty-five, twenty-six. One day, before she knew it, she’d be Nita’s age.
Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Suddenly I feel so stifled.”
“So you’ve decided to do more study?”
Looking around, she shrugged. “Maybe.”
Nita leaned her hips back against the desk, waiting for the younger woman to continue.
Elizabeth wandered to a window and, resting the side of her head against the jamb, looked out on another amazing Texas sunset.
“Daniel came over last night.”
“I guessed.”
She folded her arms over her nervous stomach. “He makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.”
“You’re falling in love with him?”
“If he gets the job for the club, he’ll be in Royal for a while.”