Page 1

The Heir Dilemma
Abby Green
CHAPTER ONE
QUINTANOHOLTSURVEYEDthe scene before him: a glittering party on the rooftop of one of Manhattan’s most iconic hotels. Flaming lanterns and flickering candles bathed some of the most powerful, influential and beautiful people in New York society in a golden glow. Black-and-white-clad waiters moved fluidly through the crowd, offering a choice of beverages and canapés. A full moon hung low in the clear night sky. The air was balmy. All in all, a very exclusive and idyllic scene.
He savoured this moment he had alone to himself, before anyone noticed his arrival. He allowed the sense of satisfaction to settle in his belly. Tonight was the culmination of years of work. He’d floated his tech company on the stock market earlier that day for an astronomical amount of money. This was a celebration of the indelible proof that he could make it on his own. That he hadn’t needed his family legacy.
A legacy that he’d sensationally walked away from over five years before, after discovering that his fatherwasn’this biological parent. Some other nameless man had been his father. Maybe the pool boy. Or his Brazilian mother’s personal trainer.
Not that the man who had brought him up had tried very hard to stop him from walking away. He’d taken the news that Quin didn’t intend to cash in on his inheritance or take up a role in the family business with a shrug of indifference which had pretty much summed up their relationship.
As for his mother... There were only two people in this world whom he despised and she was one of them. Buried deep inside Quin was the wound of her abandonment, something he’d always blamed himself for. He knew rationally that of course a three-year-old couldn’t drive a mother away from her family, but Quin had grown up believing it on a cellular level because of the trauma.
She’d walked out on him and his older brother without a backward glance and she didn’t deserve an atom of Quin’s energy. He certainly wasn’t going to let toxic memories of her infect this moment.
He shut out all unwelcome thoughts and focused on the crowd. He let his gaze wander over the women, each one as stunningly beautiful as the last. Blonde, brunette, jet-black hair, redhead. All poured into dresses that showed off willowy limbs and luscious curves.
All so tempting...and God knew Quin should be tempted. It had been years for him since—
No, not going there.That would be to invite a level of toxicity that went way beyond memories of his mother.
But the problem was that he wasn’t tempted. Not even remotely. He looked at these beautiful women and not one caused even a frisson of interest in his blood or his body. He was flatlining.
A sense of desperation climbed upwards. It couldn’t be the case thatshe’druined him for all women. On top of everything else she’d done. He let his gaze linger on the woman with red hair. She was the one who least resembledher. He willed himself to find her attractive, letting his gaze drop over her perfectly toned curves—no doubt honed in one of Manhattan’s many sleek gyms.
But that only made him think of another body—equally slim and toned, but from surfing and jogging and walking fast. He’d used to tell her she reminded him of an irrepressible imp, full of kinetic energy. But she’d also been soft in all the right places, and plump in even better places. The way her breast had filled his hand, as if made especially for him... The sharp stab of her nipple... He could still recall how it had felt against his tongue, and the way she’d buck against him, spreading her legs, begging him to—
Quin cursed softly. He was finally feeling aroused and it was thanks to a ghost. Damn her to hell. It was time to move on with his life and if he had to fake it until he felt it then he would do whatever it took.
He was about to take a step towards the party when something made him hesitate. The little hairs went up on the back of his neck. A scent tickled his nostrils. Roses and something sharp. Citrus. Very unique. Only one woman had that scent.
Everything in him tensed.No.He would not let her haunt him like this.
Determined to push the past behind him, where it belonged, Quin took a step forward just as a voice said his name from behind him. It was so low that Quin wasn’t sure if he’d even heard it.
He stopped, going against every instinct within him that urged him to keep moving forward. The voice came again, louder this time. Firmer.
‘Quin.’
Slowly, Quin turned around, fully expecting to see nothing behind him because his mind was playing tricks. It had to be. Because it couldn’t possibly be—
His gaze fell on a woman.It was her.The only other person he despised in the world other than his mother. And yet his first instinctive response wasn’t disgust, or even rejection, it was something much closer to relief, and an almost overwhelming need to haul her close, touch her...feel for himself how real she was.
No way.
He hated this woman with a passion. It wasn’t relief he was feeling. It was pure unadulterated rage and disgust.
And yet the maelstrom inside him wasn’t so easily categorised as he took her in...
Slightly above average height. She’d used to love the disparity in their sizes. He was almost a foot taller. She’d run into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist, arms locked around his neck, pressing her mouth to his as if she needed him more than air.
She looked different, though, he vaguely realised through the shock reverberating through his body and brain. Her hair was lighter. Blonde, with reddish streaks. It was down past her shoulders, wavy. Un-styled.
She was pale. Freckles across her cheeks. Aquamarine eyes. Blue and green. Achingly familiar. Long lashes. Straight nose. Wide mouth. Plump lower lip that had made him want to kiss her the first time he’d laid eyes on her.
She wore a plain black evening gown. Strapless. Showing off a delicate collarbone and slender arms. No blinging jewellery. Minimal make-up. Something about that—about her understated appearance—landed like adrenalin in his gut, waking him out of his shocked trance.