Wedding His Takeover Target / Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ noted she’d ignored his question. Again. Apparently, Ms. Taylor, like him, operated on a need-to-know basis. His gaze flicked briefly back to her bare ring finger. “Married?”

      She glanced away, but not so quickly that he didn’t catch a glimpse of pain, and then she checked her watch. “Not anymore. Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? We usually have high tea at four.”

      That would give her an excuse to leave the room, and he wasn’t ready to let her go yet—not until he’d made sense of her cool demeanor. “No thanks. Are you visiting your grandfather?”

      “I manage the B and B for him.”

      “Been doing that long?”

      “A while.”

      He almost laughed at her quick, succinct response. He’d never met a woman who made him sift so hard for information, like a miner panning for precious metals. He was used to ones who chattered nonstop. He’d have to employ a different strategy if he wanted to get details out of her.

      “I am a local—or I used to be. But I’m only back for … a while.” He mimicked her words.

      “Yes, I heard.”

      “Did you?”

      “Don’t get excited. I wasn’t fishing for information about you Jarrods. In a city with a population of roughly six thousand residents, most of those not full-time, the gossip mill works overtime. Your father’s death and the stipulations of his will are a hot topic. My condolences on his passing.”

      He digested the you Jarrods part of her reply. “Thanks, but if the grapevine is working efficiently, then you know there was no love lost between my father and me. I’ll only be here another seven months and then I’m gone.”

      “Your loss. Aspen is beautiful.”

      He let his gaze wander to her booted feet and then back to her eyes. “Exquisitely beautiful. But not as warm as I’d like.”

      She stiffened, obviously receiving the message that he wasn’t discussing the city’s climate. A fresh rush of color flooded her cheeks and her lips parted.

      “Yeah, well, you’re old enough to know you can’t always get what you want.”

      A clearing throat preempted further discussion. An older gentleman, tall, thin, but bearing military-erect posture and a shock of snow-white hair stood in the entry. Blue eyes the same shade as his granddaughter’s met Gavin’s. “Jarrod, huh?”

      “I’m Gavin Jarrod. I’d like to talk to you about—”

      Caldwell held up a blue-veined hand. “Sabrina, be an angel and get me some coffee to wash away the cobwebs my nap always leaves behind.”

      Not a good start. Gavin fought the urge to check out the brunette’s backside as she left. “I apologize if I woke you, sir.”

      Caldwell waved his apology aside. “Fell asleep watching the news channel. Damned depressing babble. All gloom and doom even if it is delivered by hot blondes in short skirts and high heels. Time to get up anyway. Can’t sleep what’s left of my life away. What can I do for you, Gavin Jarrod?”

      “I’d like to buy back the property my grandfather lost to you.”

      “Should have known one of you would pick up where your father left off. Badgering me seems to be the Jarrod way. At least you had the gumption to pester me face-to-face instead through a damned lawyer. Can’t respect a man who won’t handle his own dirty work.”

      Gavin digested the animosity. He’d have to work around it. “As you’ve no doubt discovered, the mine is worthless.”

      “Depends on what you consider the valuable part. Ain’t necessarily the minerals.”

      Cryptic old coot. “The acreage is in the middle of Jarrod Ridge.”

      “And me owning it is like a burr in your butt, ain’t it, boy? Drove your daddy nuts, too.” Mischief fanned crinkles from the old, but sharp eyes.

      “My oldest brother and I would like to build a bungalow on the property.”

      “Don’t you folks have enough going on up there already? Lodges all over the damned place plus Jarrod Manor.”

      “This would be a different caliber accommodation for guests needing more privacy and additional security than the hotel or existing lodges could provide.”

      Henry snorted. “Married Hollywood types sneaking off with somebody they oughtn’t to be with.”

      Another strike. “We were thinking more along the lines of heads of state.”

      “Don’t care if you’re putting up the president. The land’s not for sale.”

      Gavin struggled to keep his frustration in check. “What purpose does keeping it serve you, Mr. Caldwell? There’s no road access which means you can’t build on it. You can’t even get to it without obtaining written permission to cross Jarrod property.”

      “Y’think so? Son, I’ve been visiting that mine for fifty years—often enough to know you’re one of the young’uns who used to camp down in the shaft.”

      Interesting. Until his most recent return Gavin had never seen signs of anyone visiting other than him and his brothers. The entrance was pretty well hidden. “Yessir. All three of my brothers and I did, but I probably spent more time there than the rest of them combined.”

      “Cleaned up after yourself, too.”

      “Our father forbade us to go there. We didn’t want to leave any tracks.”

      “He forbade you because he didn’t own it.”

      “A fact he didn’t share with us, and one we’d like to rectify. I’m prepared to offer you—”

      “Don’t matter how much you offer. I’m still not selling. Which one are you? The architect, the engineer, the marketing man or the restaurateur?”

      Caldwell knew quite a bit about the Jarrods, but considering the family had been a fixture in Aspen for generations, the interest in their lives wasn’t surprising. “I’m a construction engineer. My brother Blake is a developer who commissioned the design for the bungalow we’d like to build. Our offer is more than generous.”

      “Don’t care about your money.”

      “Your inn could use a little work.”

      Caldwell snorted. “I’ll get to it.”

      “Opening day for the ski slopes is only a few weeks away.”

      “That’s not news.”

      Gavin didn’t like bringing personal issues into a business problem because it gave his opponent leverage, but he had no choice. “Mr. Caldwell, as you’ve noted, that mine has sentimental value to me. I spent a lot of my youth there. The site holds some good memories.”

      Those СКАЧАТЬ