Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright by Maureen Child Page A

that.”
    â€œI am. Just as I’m right about thinking you’ll handle yourself well here.”
    â€œRight into the deep end then?”
    â€œAny reason to think you can’t swim?” Christian asked and watched as she seemed to consider his question.
    Finally, she shook her head, gave him a fierce, bright smile and said, “I’ll swim.”
    â€œI bet you will,” he said, staring at her as she picked up her leather-backed menu and perused the offerings. He wished to hell he didn’t find her more and more intriguing with every passing minute. What was it about this one small, curvy woman that had his body tied up in knots and his brain overheating?
    Was it the lure of the unattainable?
    He didn’t think so. There had been plenty of women when he was younger who had been out of his league. A townie kid with a single mom didn’t really have the means to play in the ball games of the rich and famous. But he wasn’t that kid anymore and he could have the pick of any woman he wanted.
    What he couldn’t figure out was why that didn’t seem to matter.
    The one woman he wanted was also the one woman he couldn’t have.
    Â 
    Two hours later, Erica was alone in her suite. Sunset was deepening into twilight but here in her rooms, the lamplight was bright and she was too wrapped up in what she was doing to even notice the end of her first day in Colorado. Christian had gone back to workafter their early meal—excusing himself as quickly as possible with a claim of having to get some work done before morning. Once she was on her own, Erica had done a little exploring.
    Now, she sat on the couch in her new living room and looked at all of the magazines, books, postcards and brochures she had spread out around her. She’d practically bought out the gift shop downstairs, buying up every item she could find pertaining directly to Jarrod Ridge.
    And there had been plenty to choose from. The brochures listed every activity to be found at the resort and the book described the history of the place. She’d stared at the black-and-white photos of her grandparents and biological father with a fascination that had kept her captive for nearly twenty minutes. The grainy images of men in worn jeans and cowboy hats were so far removed from the tidy heritage she’d grown up hearing about, it was fascinating. She’d looked for resemblances between the people in those old pictures and herself and she’d found them. The shape of her eyes, the curve of her mouth. It was odd to see something of herself in people she had never met.
    Yet in a weird way, it was almost comforting.
    Her family was bigger than she’d ever imagined. They had been adventurers, dreamers. Men and women who had come to the middle of nowhere and built a life, a legacy that had lasted. Their dreams had grown and blossomed and had become something very special.
    And she was a part of it.
    A very small link in a lengthy chain.
    When a knock sounded on her door, she was at first surprised, then a second later, a little worried about who might be dropping by. But then, she thought, it might be Christian. He might have decided to come back and take her on a little tour of the hotel. That thought spurred her off the couch and toward the front door. She fluffed her hair, smoothed her shirt and smiled to herself at the prospect of being with him again.
    But when she opened the door, there was a woman standing there, holding two bottles of wine.
    â€œRed or white?” she asked, walking past Erica into the living room.
    â€œI’m sorry?” Confused, Erica just watched her.
    â€œRed or white? Which do you prefer?”
    â€œUh, that depends, I guess…”
    The woman grinned at her. “Good answer. I’m your sister, Melissa. And I’ve just stolen some wine from our brother Guy’s private reserve so that you and I can get to know each other.”
    Hard to feel out of sorts