Chapter 10: The Heir

Nathan's car pulled in at one o'clock.

He climbed out in a dark overcoat with a leather folder under his arm, older than I remembered, with gray at his temples.

I stood on the porch with my arms wrapped around myself.

For a second neither of us moved.

Then he crossed the gravel in four strides and hugged me so hard my feet left the ground.

"You idiot," he said into my hair. "Five years. You absolute idiot."

"I know."

"I called a hundred times."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be alive."

He put me down and held me out by the shoulders.

His eyes went to my stomach, then to Jasper, standing on the step, and then back to my face.

"Are you going to tell me something?" he said.

"Two things," I said. "I'm pregnant, and I'm very good at hiding things."

"I can see the second one." He looked at Jasper. "Holt."

"Sir."

"If you hurt her I'll bury you in the same cliff."

"Understood," Jasper said, and I would have sworn his ears went red.

Nathan laughed for the first time, short and rough.

Then he picked up the folder, and the laugh stopped.

"Inside," he said. "Sit down. You're going to need to."

We sat at the kitchen table.

Nathan set the folder in front of me and kept one hand on it.

"I had my lawyers look at the death petition," he said. "I wanted to know why the judge signed in two weeks."

"Because Preston's lawyer is good," I said.

"Because Preston's lawyer had a reason." He opened the folder. "Imogen, did you ever make a will?"

"No. I was twenty-three."

"And did you ever close out Grandmother's trust?"

I frowned.

"I walked away from the family. I never signed anything."

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