Page 4 of Overnight Inheritance

“Mae,” Sarah said kindly. “How many guests here tonight do you suppose have an Australian accent? And don’t doubt that he has a thick dossier on his desk covering every detail about your life that his investigators have been able to glean so far. He would have known exactly who you were.”

Mae’s chest filled with heat and anger. “Sonofabitch.”

“Yeah,” Sarah said and handed her a glass of champagne.

Two

Sebastian Newport leaned back against the marble kitchen counter as he threw back his second coffee of the morning and prayed it kicked in before his son woke. Thankfully, Alfie had always been a good sleeper, unlike Sebastian.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that he’d stayed awake for hours last night, replaying the conversation with Mae Rutherford in his head. He’d tried hard to marry the image of her from the photos in his dossier with the captivating voice he’d heard through the shrubbery but hadn’t been able to quite make it click. Last night, she’d been wary and uncertain in a new world. The pictures—private investigator photos in which she hadn’t been looking at the camera—had shown a smiling, confident woman. And he couldn’t help but want to know more.

The faint tune of his front doorbell sounded, and he instinctively stiffened in case it woke Alfie. He’d changed the shrill buzzing to a gentle classical-music-inspired sound, and had set the volume to low, but he still waited a beat, listening to the baby monitor, just in case. When there were no stirring sounds from the nursery upstairs, he slid the monitor into his pocket, shoved off the counter, and headed for the front door.

With one hand wrapped around his coffee mug, he unlocked the door with the other and swung it open to reveal the woman he’d just been thinking about. He blinked, wondering if it really was her or he was being too quick to judge. But the long, dark, wavy hair, piercing gray eyes, and dimples gave her away. And the clincher was how much she looked like her aunt. This was Mae Rutherford.

She wasn’t smiling, happy and bright, like in the photos. She wasn’t smiling at all. Her almond-shaped eyes gave the impression of gathered storm clouds, ready to break and rain down mayhem.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, before he could say anything.

“Hello, Mae.”

“How do you know?” A frown dug across her forehead.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I recognize you from photos. Though I have to say, they don’t do you justice.” The photos were, well, flat. This woman before him was so full of emotion and intensity that it was spilling out around her, as if he’d be able to feel it if he reached his hand out to the air near her face or arms. And damn if he didn’t want to try...

“When did you first know it was me?”

Ah.“I guessed it was you last night, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She tipped her head to the side, so her hair swung across her shoulder. “Did you know the whole time?”

“Pretty much. Your accent is rare here, so I put two and two together.”

She folded her arms tightly under her breasts. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me think our talk was anonymous?”

He shifted his weight to his other foot. He’d asked himself the same question while lying in bed last night. “I was relatively sure you would have walked away, and I was enjoying our chat.”

She didn’t speak for a moment, just held his gaze with sparking eyes, nodding slowly. “So, the advice you gave me last night. It’s starting to seem that it was more like manipulation than advice.”

He winced. That was a fair conclusion, and one he would have drawn himself had their roles been reversed. And yet...

“It might seem that way to you now, but I treated our conversation last night in the spirit of two strangers meeting through shrubbery. I gave you the same advice I would have given anyone in that situation.”

“You’ll excuse my incredulity.”

The stirrings of a smile pulled at his lips, but he managed to keep it from forming. “If it helps, it’s not the same advice I’d give this morning, to your face.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I know I’m going to regret this, but, what’s your advice this morning?”

“Sell to me.”

“Sell to you?”

“Sell me your family’s half of Bellavista Holdings. We both know you’re out of your depth, so sell it to me and walk away with a very large bag of cash.”

“Did you just call me dumb?”

“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t know anything about teaching school, but it’s something you trained to do. I’ve been training my whole life forthis. So, sell to me.”

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