Page 32 of An Heir Made In Hawaii (Hot Winter Escapes)

But she drew the line at anything that would pull her back to the emotional brink he’d brought her to in Kauai. That one fleeting night when she’d seen just why women fell for him. When she herself had teetered on the edge of something far deeper and more meaningful than a one-night stand.

Anika, you are special.

“Lunch this time,” he said, his voice breaking into her thoughts.

She started and felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She had the disconcerting feeling that he could see exactly what she had been thinking about.

“Lunch,” she repeated. “Good.”

“This time.”

Nicholas gazed out over the water. One of the things he appreciated about Bled was the constant views of the lake. No matter where he went, the lake seemed to be always in sight. The castle, the church perched on the island, the Alps standing guard in the distance, all of it came together to create a fairy-tale magic. In the past three years, he’d focused on cities like Tokyo, Singapore, London and New York. Modern, forward-thinking cities with populations that flocked to the luxury offered by the Hotel Lassard.

But always in the back of his mind he’d envisioned branching out into communities like Bled. Smaller towns and cities that offered so much more than the standard five-star restaurants, museums and clogged streets. There was still luxury and glamor to be found, but against the backdrop of culture, of unique destinations one wouldn’t find in the midst of a megalopolis.

Places like Bled. It was unlike any of the locations he had ever visited or opened hotels in before. The natural beauty reminded him of the trips to Scotland, of simpler vacations they had taken before David’s death. A day at the beach in Cornwall, hiking at Killarney National Park in Ireland, weekend getaways to their home in Scotland. As much as the more glamorous, luxurious vacations of his teenage years had been fun, part of the enjoyment had been the respite from grief. True happiness, like he’d found on those family journeys, had eluded him thus far.

He had come to understand the driving force behind the obsession to possess the hotel, a realization that had come on the heels of his conversation with Anika during the storm, followed by far too much time to brood over the past two months. To succeed here, in a town that reminded him of those times, in a place that mattered, had become the most important thing in his life.

And yet, he thought as his gaze slid from the bare trees guarding the island church to the woman seated across from him, in just a short amount of time, it was no longer at the forefront of his mind. Her dark hair was gathered in a loose bun at the base of her neck that emphasized her cheekbones and large, golden brown eyes. She wore a collared white shirt with a row of pearly buttons down the center and a gray skirt. Before Kauai, he would have appreciated her figure but still classified the outfit as matronly. Now, with his intimate knowledge of what lay beneath the material, he was struggling not to entertain fantasies of unbuttoning her shirt, punctuating each undone button with a kiss to the skin he revealed.

His fingers tightened a fraction on his coffee cup. He forced himself to relax his grip. Judging by Anika’s reaction to his quip about spending another night together, she would not be gracing his bed again. The attraction was still there. He hadn’t missed the flare of interest in her eyes, the blush in her cheeks.

But she wanted to keep him at arm’s length. Preferably, he imagined, even further than that if possible. She hadn’t been excited about the possibility of him being involved with the baby. Not excited, but she’d accepted it. Something he’d been grateful for. If she had pushed back, he would not have hesitated to use every tool at his disposal to fight for a place in the baby’s life.

What that place looked like was still to be determined. But he had a responsibility, and he would see it through. He would be there for his child as much as he was capable.

Although just how much he was capable of being there was yet another question he would have to figure out in the next few months. Because the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d realized that his initial approach of money and a modest presence in his child’s life was no better than what his parents had done, especially his father. Henry Lassard had thrown money at the problem of his family’s grief. Luxury vacations, a private home in Bora-Bora, a Ferrari for Nicholas’s sixteenth birthday. That had been easier than doing the hard work their situation had required.

As he’d walked himself through that unsettling realization, there had also been the ugly sensation, something that twisted in his chest, when Anika had emphatically said that she did not want to be married to him. Ridiculous, because marriage was certainly not in the cards for him. Yet ever since Anika had left him in Hawaii, he had been able to think of little else but her. She had popped up at the most inconvenient times. He’d imagined what she’d say to a particularly pompous executive during a contentious boardroom meeting with the Hotel Lassard’s board of directors in London, pictured her by his side as he’d walked down the lantern-lined Charles Bridge in Prague. One moment he’d missed her, and the next he’d been angry, even furious that she had walked out on him.

Anger was better. Anger was easier than contemplating how, or why, she had crept into the deepest corners of his heart.

No matter what he felt for Anika, the thought of continuing his life as a bachelor, of traveling around the world while she stayed here in Bled and raised their child, filled him with something almost akin to loss. Thinking about the trips he had lined up after the grand opening and into spring made him feel like he was already failing.

That was partly why, in addition to working on the hotel, he had spent the last day examining all the ways that he could do something. He had already set up a trust fund and savings accounts, and altered his will. Their child, and Anika—whether she liked it or not—would be well cared for. Taking steps like those, concrete measures toward ensuring they would have a comfortable life, made him feel like he was at least accomplishing something.

“Have you been out to the island?”

He refocused on Anika, watched as she moved a cheese and potato dumpling around her plate and frowned. She’d eaten some at breakfast yesterday, but she’d barely touched her dumplings or her salad. Wasn’t she supposed to be eating for two now?

“No, I haven’t.” He glanced out the window again at the tall, dark spire of the church stabbing up toward the sky, the red-orange roofs of the other buildings surrounding it. “I’ve been on a tour of the lake, though. I’ll make it to the church one day.”

“It’s an amazing bit of history,” Anika said with a genuine smile that made his chest tighten. “Marija and I used to go there all the time. On the southwest side is a stone staircase with ninety-nine steps. Legend has it that if a groom carries his bride up the steps into the church, they can ring the bell inside and have their wish granted.”

He smiled. It was stories like that, bits and pieces of history and culture that, coupled with the luxury of his hotels, made the experiences his family’s company offered some of the best in the world. The tourism manager he’d hired had already added excursions to the island for future guests, but he made a mental note to schedule a trip to the island before the grand opening.

“Marija mentioned you two spent a lot of time out and about the lake.”

“I didn’t realize you two spoke that much.”

“Only occasionally,” he said, noting the defensive set to her shoulders. “In town a couple times, at a tourism meeting. And once at the Winter Fairy Tale market.”

She relaxed and he forced away his irritation. Had she thought he’d been going behind her back, speaking to her grandmother and trying to convince her to sell? Or did she just not want him around her family? Thoughts of Marija stirred a sudden, fearsome thought.

“The cancer your mother and Marija had...is it genetic?”

“It is, but I’m not a carrier.”

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