The Real Heiress Is Coming Back (Hannah Carter) novel Chapter 53

Chapter 53

“Why are you still here?” Hannah blinked in surprise.

Barnaby had been staying at her place since their return from Scott Villa, initially complaining of not feeling

well.

She had treated him again this morning and assumed he’d left afterward, never expecting to find him still lingering in her space.

“Last I checked, this is my property,” Barnaby remarked casually.

Hannah crossed her arms. “I thought we agreed this was temporary?”

A slow smile touched his lips. “Can you blame a sick man for wanting to stay near his doctor?”

His velvety voice carried a deliberate drawl that felt almost like a caress, leaving Hannah momentarily breathless and utterly disarmed.

His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before drifting downward.

She stood there in a cream silk slip dress, the delicate fabric hinting at the curves beneath her slender collarbones.

His throat went dry. Seeing Hedy snuggled comfortably in her arms suddenly irritated him.

He stepped closer, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers trailed down the nape of her neck before he unceremoniously scooped up the sleeping Hedy. “You’re spoiling him.”

A shiver ran through Hannah at his touch. It took her a moment to register his intense gaze, then heat rushed to her cheeks as she wore nothing beneath the silk.

The door clicked shut as she spun around in flustered retreat.

Roused so abruptly, Hedy blinked in confusion at the closed door before turning his dazed eyes toward Barnaby’s furrowed brow.

“Don’t get any more ideas about cozying up to her,” Barnaby warned, tapping the pig’s head with a firm finger.

Hedy only snorted in bewilderment.

Behind the door, Hannah leaned against the wooden surface, her heart pounding.

Years of living alone had made her careless about such things, and she’d completely forgotten Barnaby’s presence in the house.

His earlier suggestive comments had already set her on edge, though she’d struggled to maintain composure. Now this embarrassing encounter sent fresh waves of heat flushing through her.

Pressing a hand to her frantic heartbeat, she steeled herself against being captivated by his striking

appearance.

Not until Rosalie’s killer was brought to justice and Lysander’s name cleared could she afford to trust any member of the Thole family.

Her mission remained clear: obtain the Obsidian Pearl, cure Barnaby’s condition, then depart forever.

Fresh from his cold shower, Barnaby cast another glance at Hannah’s firmly shut door, his expression tightening.

While numerous women had openly admired his looks, this particular woman consistently kept her distance, a puzzling contrast that gnawed at him.

“Why would someone who once felt so close now keep pushing me away?” He typed into the search bar, dissatisfied with the generic relationship advice that appeared.

The phone vibrated with an incoming call from Magnus. “Barnaby, come down to the Deaxen Hotel for drinks.”

Glancing at his watch, which showed 11:07 PM, Barnaby declined flatly, “Not tonight.”

“Tristan’s back in town. The man’s a walking encyclopedia on women. Come get some pointers,” Magnus insisted.

Barnaby’s gaze drifted back toward Hannah’s closed door. “Twenty minutes,” he conceded.

*****

On the fourth floor of the Deaxen Hotel, the private lounge was steeped in opulent ambiance. Soft lighting glimmered off crystal glasses, casting a golden hue over the subdued conversations and clinking ice.

Barnaby sat slightly apart from the crowd, his black shirt blending into the velvet sofa. Long fingers caged a whiskey glass, slowly swirling the amber liquid and melting ice.

The carefully designed lighting sculpted his sharp features into a portrait of detached elegance.

Several women with artfully applied makeup cast lingering glances his way, yet an invisible barrier of reserve kept even the boldest at a respectful distance.

“Hey Barnaby, the guys told me you’re seeing someone! How come you haven’t brought her around?” Tristan Pierce sauntered over, a glamorous socialite draped on one arm and a girl-next-door type clinging to the other.

As the heir to the Pierce dynasty, one of the city’s four powerhouse families, Tristan had inherited his grandfather’s military legacy but forged his own reputation as the ultimate playboy, cycling through romantic partners with casual indifference.

After a mandatory three-year stint in the military arranged by his grandfather, he had left to launch his own business ventures.

It was during those years that he first crossed paths with both Barnaby and Magnus.

“Get back. The smell is offensive.” Barnaby’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the cloud of cheap perfume surrounding the women.

Tristan, who knew all about his friend’s fastidiousness, made an annoyed sound. “Still so particular. What kind of saint did you manage to find?”

He dismissed his companions with a casual wave.

“Haven’t actually won her over yet,” Magnus murmured, leaning closer to Tristan’s ear.

“No kidding?” Tristan’s eyebrow shot up, the unlit cigar between his lips making him look every bit the scoundrel. “Since when is there a woman Barnaby can’t get?”

He gestured with his cigar. “Tried the usual? Yacht? Penthouse? Sports car? Jewelry?”

“Not exactly,” Barnaby admitted.

He remembered how Hannah had barely tolerated staying at Skycrest Residence. Offering her such extravagant gifts outright would probably frighten her away.

“See, that’s your problem. Women appreciate nice things. Start with jewelry and a sports car, maybe a waterfront property.

“If that doesn’t work, name a star after her.” Tristan took a long drag from his cigar. “When you invest properly, there isn’t a woman who’ll say no.”

“Fascinating theory,” Magnus remarked with an impressed nod. “Barnaby, shall we put this masterplan into action tomorrow?”

“She’s not like that,” Barnaby said, shooting his friend a withering look.

He was beginning to question why he’d sought advice from someone whose understanding of women was so superficial.

Magnus had to admit Hannah was different with her elegant reserve and that unapproachable aura, not to mention her remarkable composure during the recent incident. She was clearly exceptional.

“You won’t know unless you try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained!” he called after Barnaby’s retreating figure.

His words were met only with the solid thud of the door closing.

*****

Barnaby stepped out of the Deaxen Hotel just as Ronin pulled the car alongside him.

“The Scepter House has tracked down the Obsidian Pearl,” Ronin announced, holding the door open. “It goes up for auction next Saturday at eight.”

“Make the arrangements,” Barnaby said with a nod as he slid into the backseat.

“Consider it done,” Ronin replied. “What about your meeting with Ms. Reese tomorrow?”

Edmund Baker, the typically distant head of the Thole family, had recently begun showing unusual concern for Barnaby’s wellbeing, even sending over a personal physician.

The doctor in question was Daisy Reese, currently unmarried.

A union between the Thole and Reese families would bring significant advantages.

Edmund’s sudden interest in both Barnaby’s health and marital prospects was transparent. He wanted to secure Barnaby’s shares in the Thole family empire.

Barnaby leaned back, eyes half-closed. “We’ll keep the appointment.”

“And Ms. Carter?” Ronin ventured, unable to hide his surprise.

“Both meetings stand,” Barnaby stated calmly.

Ronin could only stare, completely baffled by Barnaby’s intentions.

At Baker Villa, Lauren scowled at her phone. Raven’s assistant had just countered her offer, not by double or even tenfold, but by demanding one hundred times her original bid.

Her initial proposal had already stretched her budget to its limits, and this outrageous response left her fuming.

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