Hearts of Wealth: The Billionaire's Dynasty Series, #3

​The Billionaire’s Dynasty Series

Book 1 – Passion & Privilege

Book 2 – Tangled in Temptation

Book 3 – Hearts of Wealth

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​​​Hearts of Wealth Blurb

WEALTH IS OF THE HEART and mind, not the pocket...

Catherine Jacobsen knows she should be happy.

She got the guy.

And their lives are great, but she feels horrible that Timothy’s step-daughter has been taken back to Germany by his ex-wife.

Catherine decides to take a chance and contact the ex-wife directly. Shockingly, it works. The daughter is allowed to come back, and her and Timothy are thrilled. Her excitement is short-lived when her father has a heart attack.

Focused on her father, she puts her own life on hold as she nursed him back to health.

Will she listen to her father when he encourages her to keep living her life and not put things on hold? Or is it too late for her and Timothy?

Contents

The Billionaire’s Dynasty Series

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Hearts of Wealth Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Billionaire’s Dynasty Series

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Chapter One

Catherine

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK since Regina had whisked Paisley away, leaving me feeling helpless and guilty. I felt like it was my fault. I’d shown up at the gala and quite frankly, stole Timothy away from Regina. Regina was a jealous bitch, and she was making Timothy and Paisley pay for what she thought was a slight against her. Regina had cheated on Timothy, married another man, and now she wanted Timothy back. It was ridiculous that she thought she could just waltz back into Timothy’s life and snap her fingers.

Screw her.

Timothy deserved better. I was better for him. I knew that. The last week had been good. I’d enjoyed spending time with Timothy, but I knew he was sad. He felt like he screwed up with Paisley. The poor girl was collateral damage. Regina was an evil bitch. I didn’t know what I could do to help Timothy or Paisley. For now, I was just doing my best to be there for Timothy. It wasn’t easy. Timothy was a lot like a cactus. Very prickly. But I was still crazy about him, and I couldn’t just walk away from him.

I’d tried. I had tried to walk away from him several times. Every time I walked away, I was pulled right back. He was a force I couldn’t resist. The man was nothing I’d thought I would ever want. He was wealthy, arrogant, and slightly obnoxious.

But underneath all of that, he was a really good guy. He just didn’t show it well. But I got to see it. I was confident I was one of the very few people on this planet that knew the real Timothy. Our relationship had been rocky, but that was because he struggled to be honest with his feelings. I’d gotten my feelings hurt, and we didn’t have any real conversation about what either of us was feeling.

Until the gala. That night was our chance to strip away all the barriers we’d each put up. Timothy had finally come clean with his feelings for me. I knew he wasn’t a diehard romantic, which was fine. I’m not either. I didn’t need him to be vulnerable all the time. He gave me a glimpse inside, and that was all I needed to know. He cared.

I drove through the gate to Gloriana Manor. I still found myself amazed that I was a welcome guest at the lavish home after such a rough beginning. Falling over the garden wall turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me. Timothy was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Stepping inside, I scanned the grand foyer, searching for Timothy. I walked into the kitchen to see if he was in there. When I didn’t find him in the usual areas, I headed upstairs. As expected, I found him in his office, engrossed in a phone call. His expression was strained yet compassionate as he spoke, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking to Paisley.

The whole situation had him on edge. I knew he felt helpless when it came to his stepdaughter. Or was it his ex-stepdaughter? I knew he considered her his daughter. It wasn’t step or ex or anything else. In his eyes, she was his.

Hey, I said softly as I entered, trying not to interrupt. Timothy glanced up, offering me a tight but warm smile before returning his attention to the call. I was about to walk out of the office and give him privacy when he waved his hand and then held up a finger indicating for me to wait.

He cut the call short, scribbled something onto a notepad, and finally turned to me with a heavy sigh. Sorry about that, he said, his voice sounding equally heavy. His eyes met mine for a moment before they drifted away again, scanning the documents scattered on his desk. The weight of the world seemed to be pressing down on him.

I walked over to him and took his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his were filled with stress and worry. Timothy, I whispered, it’s going to be okay.

He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. His hands came up to rest on my hips, pulling me closer. The heat between us was palpable.

I just feel so powerless, he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes opened, and he looked at me like he was hoping I could make it true.

You are not powerless, I said firmly. You have done everything you can for Paisley. Regina is the one who’s being unreasonable, not you.

It doesn’t make it any better, he sighed.

How’s Paisley holding up? I asked, unable to keep the concern out of my voice. Timothy ran a hand through his hair wearily, his shoulders slumping as he sank back into his chair.

Not good, he admitted, his tone heavy with worry. Regina has her holed up in her new villa in Italy. She’s insisting on sending Paisley back to boarding school. I’ve tried everything. I can’t even talk to her.

My heart sank at the news, guilt gnawing at me from within. Regina had essentially kidnapped her daughter. Paisley was so set on living with Timothy. The day after the gala, Paisley had ended up missing. It didn’t take long to figure she wasn’t missing at all. Regina had swooped in and taken her after promising Timothy she could stay. The evil woman actually made a deal and then went back on her word. Even though legally she had every right to take Paisley back to Europe, the way it was done felt like a betrayal to all of us who cared about her.

I’m sorry, I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

I never should’ve trusted her. Timothy’s gaze was full of regret.

We couldn’t have known, I said gently, reaching out to squeeze his hand in reassurance.

I have to find a way to bring her back, Catherine. I promised her. She will run. She will file for emancipation. I love that kid, but she’s fifteen and has no business being on her own. She might think she’s old enough to handle life, but she’s really been pretty sheltered.

Maybe Regina will meet another guy and decide she doesn’t want a kid getting in the way, I said.

I have to do something, he declared. I can’t just sit back and let this happen.

I nodded in understanding. We’ll figure it out together, I told him. We’ll do whatever it takes to bring her home.

The whole buying an island and hiding her away is sounding better by the day, he muttered.

I laughed. I’m not sure she’s going to think that’s better than boarding school.

Maybe not. What countries don’t have extradition policies with the United States?

We’ll find a way, Timothy, I murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. We won’t give up until Paisley is back where she belongs. And it won’t require you to commit any crimes. I don’t want you rotting in a cell.

He offered me a grateful smile. Thanks for sticking with me.

We had been so consumed by Paisley’s ordeal that we hadn’t had the chance to address our own relationship, to discuss where we stood amidst the chaos. But I knew deep down that we both wanted to be together. I wasn’t about to dump on him with a bunch of relationship talk.

I’m sorry, he said. All we do is talk about Paisley. How are you?

I’m fine, I assured him. And Paisley is pretty important.

Do you think I should drop this? he asked. Am I just making it worse by refusing to accept the inevitable?

No, I answered firmly. You are doing what you have to as her father. Yes, you are her father. Paisley has to know there is someone out there looking out for her. Even if you don’t get her right away, she’ll always know she has a place to come back to.

Thank you. You may not know this about me, but I tend to be a man that gets what he wants. I don’t know how to take no for an answer.

Don’t I know it, I laughed. It’s one of the things that drives me crazy about you.

In a good or bad way?

Both, I laughed.

So what are you doing today?

I have a meeting with a new client later today, I told him, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. It’s a referral from the Historical Society.

That’s great, Catherine, he murmured, forcing a smile onto his face. I’m sorry I’ve been too wrapped up in my own issues to ask about your work.

It’s okay, I reassured him, though deep down, I felt a hint of disappointment. Timothy’s troubles with Paisley and Regina were consuming all his time and mental energy, leaving our relationship on the backburner. But that was something we could address later. For now, I had to be there for him.

I hope the meeting goes well, he said after a moment of silence, pulling me into his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, the familiar warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. It was moments like these that reminded me why I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I could wait until things got better.

Me too, I said. It’s an old house, built around the same time as this one.

Really?

Yep. I nodded. Doing your house has put me on the map.

He chuckled. I’m glad I was your jumping-off point.

Me too. I still think your house is the best, though.

He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly. Of course you do. You poured your whole heart into it.

Our lips met in a languid kiss, the kind shared between lovers comfortable in each other’s presence. It was a distraction we both needed, an escape from the harsh realities we were dealing with.

Pulling away reluctantly, I murmured against his lips, I should get going. The meeting is in an hour. I don’t want to be late.

Will I see you later? he asked, his voice laced with hope.

I returned his smile. Of course, I replied. I’ll come up for dinner.

A hint of mischief danced in his eyes as he spoke again. And will you stay the night? he asked, his tone playful.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his question, shaking my head in mock disbelief. You know I have to sleep in my own house sometimes, I teased, unable to resist a playful jab. Otherwise, why have it?

Timothy chuckled, pulling me into a warm embrace once again. I loved that he couldn’t let me go. Fair enough, he conceded, pressing another kiss to my forehead. I’ll see you tonight. Stay if you want. But fair warning, I plan on doing everything I can to convince you to stay.

I laughed. Then I’d better pack an overnight bag, because I’m helpless against your charms.

He swatted my ass. I know.

Mean, I joked. So mean.

I promise, you will not be disappointed.

Rolling my eyes playfully at his overconfidence, I pulled away from his embrace and started gathering my things. All right, lover boy, it’s time for me to go now.

Catherine...thank you.

I gave him a warm smile, touched by his sincerity. Of course, Timothy. I’m always here for you.

Our gazes locked for a moment, and I was once again sucked in by those captivating eyes of his, the ones that had drawn me in when we first met at the beginning of the summer. That felt like a lifetime ago. My whole life had changed from the very moment I fell over that wall.

Chapter Two

Catherine

I PUNCHED IN THE ADDRESS for my potential new client. While I drove through town, I thought about the new project. This was exactly what I wanted. My career goal was to be the premier historical renovation carpenter on the East Coast. I hoped I could make a living focusing on these old houses. I counted it as my contribution to society. I was getting to save one house at a time from the ravishes of time. And those who felt every house needed to be white walls and open floor plans.

I pulled up to the address in the secluded, historic neighborhood, feeling a sense of anticipation mingled with curiosity. The Historical Society had connected me with this new client, a man who had recently purchased a house in a district with strict renovation regulations. It seemed I was just the woman for the job. Stepping out of my car, I smoothed down my blouse and adjusted my briefcase, preparing to meet the homeowner.

After my first meeting with Timothy, I had learned a few things. For one, I was showing up early. I looked the part of a professional. I needed to take this seriously. I wasn’t sure what I was getting into with the house. No information had been passed along. All I knew was the house was old and needed a lot of updating to make it safe, and the new owner wanted it to be luxurious. The other homes up and down the street all had perfectly manicured lawns, wrought iron fences and Mercedes and Beamers in the driveways. This was an upscale neighborhood, which meant this was likely going to be an owner that liked pretty things.

As I made my way to the front door, I couldn’t help but notice the man waiting for me. He was tall and undeniably handsome, with a charm that was evident in the twinkle of his eyes and the curve of his smile. The way he was looking at me was a little unnerving, but I held my composure.

Hello, he said in a deep voice. I’m Henry. The owner of this pile of bricks.

Nice to meet you, Henry, I said, returning his smile with one of my own. I’m Catherine Jacobsen.

Well, you should probably come in and see what this job entails, he said with a hint of disgust in his voice.

He gestured for me to follow him inside, and I couldn’t help but notice the playful glint in his eyes as he led the way. There was something about him that reminded me of Timothy, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the comparison. But I pushed the thought aside as I focused on the task at hand.

I have to admit, I have some concern about this house, he said.

What kinds of concerns? I asked.

He waved his hands. Look at the place. When I bought it, my thoughts were to gut the place and start fresh. I like the exterior, and I really like the neighborhood, but there are so many doors. Narrow doors. I swear, everyone was five feet tall and a hundred pounds. There are these grand rooms, but the doors are so small. And the bedrooms. Don’t get me started on the bedrooms.

You do realize this neighborhood has strict regulations when it comes to renovations, right?

Our visions for the house were very different. He was the kind of client I’d been afraid Timothy was going to