An Heir For The Billionaire

By: Terry Towers

Keeping her head held high and shoulders squared she approached the table. The two women looked up and examined her, their eyes surveying every detail of her appearance. After what felt like an eternity, they finally met her gaze and smiled, questioning expressions on her faces.

"Katrina Alexander," she explained. Looking down at the list she found her name and pointed a perfectly French manicured finger on her name. The manicure was yet another expense she hadn't wanted to take on, but Farrah had insisted she go all out, so she'd finally given in and splurged. Twenty-eight years old and still giving in to peer pressure, she was disappointed in herself.

"Ahhhh Katrina." The first woman began to scrawl her name on a white sticky nametag in black magic marker. "How have you been?" She gave Katrina a smile that was so fake it made her want to roll her eyes. She refrained, but it was hard.

She took a second to look a little further down the list and a shiver of anticipation shot down her spine when she saw Damon's name pencilled in and checked off. He must have called in at the last second. And he was here... Somewhere.

"Thank you." Taking the tag, she pressed it onto the left side of her chest and entered the ballroom, through an archway made of red and white balloons.

The lights in the ballroom were lowered and it was decorated similar to what the gym had looked like during their senior prom, in the school colours of red and white. A flood of memories came rushing back to her, most of which featured Damon. They'd been inseparable during high school, the couple voted most likely to be married and have children before they were twenty-five.

Don't get your hopes up. Chances are he's married with a mistress and four children by now. Even if he doesn't, it's not like anything other than catching up would take place anyhow.

She scanned the ballroom, eyeing each of the tall dark-haired men trying to find Damon. Some of the men looked slightly familiar, but many of them she didn't recognize. After taking time to scrutinize each of the men she found herself disappointed that unless his looks changed drastically over the years, he wasn't one of them. Letting out a loud sigh, Katrina made her way over to the bar and ordered a strawberry daiquiri.

He's already checked in so he must be around here somewhere.

"Here ya are, Katrina. On the house. You look beautiful by the way," the tall, sexy, mocha-skinned bartender said, passing her the daiquiri.

"Thanks Jerome."

Jerome leaned over the counter and gave her a smile that would normally have women swooning over him, which is why she always rejected him. She imagined he'd lost count of his conquests a long time ago. "So when we going out anyway?"

"Oh, Jerome. My guess is never."

"I'll keep asking," he warned.

"I'll keep saying no," she retorted laughing as she turned to leave.

"I'll have a scotch, on the rocks."

Katrina froze; the man's voice behind her was deep and sexy, and so familiar that it sent a shiver down her spine. Slowly, she turned back to the bar and there he was, in the flesh, as sexy as he had been the last day she'd seen him, almost ten years ago. She gulped down the lump forming in her throat as she watched him pay for his drink.

"Damon?" While asked as a question there was no doubt it was him. Six-foot-two, broad shoulders, dark hair and equally as dark eyes. Maybe it was the fine cut suit that fit him perfectly, or maybe it was the air of confidence and cockiness that he had about him now that made him heart-stopping sexy. She didn't know, but all the feelings she'd had for him a decade ago came crashing down on her, including the pain and hurt of their break-up.

His eyes immediately lit up with recognition as they caught hers. "Katrina?"

Katrina nodded.

Placing his drink on the bar he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a brief hug. Keeping her drink out of the way, she wrapped her free arm around his neck and held tight to him. She buried her face against his neck and his aftershave drifted to her, smelling of woods and spices. It drew her in, and she longed to stay in his warm embrace. But to her dismay, he ended the hug way too quickly and stepped away picking his scotch back up and taking a long drink.

"You look..." Damon took a moment to survey her, and she found herself grateful that she'd bought the new dress, including the fishnet thigh-high stockings. "I'm speechless. You look stunning Katrina. You've barely changed since I last saw you."

Katrina felt her cheeks grow warm and she lowered her gaze, feeling like a teenager again. "Thank you." After a moment, she lifted her blue eyes and smiled. On impulse she reached out and fingered the lapels of his suit jacket. The material was unbelievably soft under her fingertips. "You're looking pretty good yourself. The years seem to have been equally as kind to you."

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