by Katie Reus
Nika’s eyes widened in surprise as immediate pleasure flickered across her features. “I would love that. Don’t get me wrong, I love Declan and his family is wonderful, but I miss you so much.”
Her throat tightened with emotion at her sister’s words. “I’ve missed you too,” she said, wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks. “And FYI, I cry all the time now. It’s like I’m a leaky faucet. I cried at a Doritos commercial the other day.”
Nika rounded the corner of the island and pulled her into a hug. “Well those commercials can be sad,” her sister said, only slightly laughing. “Now that you’ve opened the door for this move, you are definitely relocating here. I’m going to start looking at real estate!”
Laughing at her sister’s enthusiasm, Alena just shook her head. She wanted to talk more about it, but more than anything, she wanted all the focus on Nika. “We’ll discuss all that later. For now, let’s talk about this wedding you’re planning,” she said as her sister pulled back. “You’re going to make a stunning bride.”
Nika rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Honestly I’d be fine just doing a courthouse wedding, but Declan is very serious about having a church wedding and having all his brothers stand up with him.”
“Good. It’s what you deserve. I’m glad he’s not letting you get off with a quickie wedding.” She paused to nibble on a cracker. “How long is he willing to let you plan this thing? Two months?”
Her sister laughed. “Ah. One and a half. I swear that man is such a caveman. He says he wants to lock me down so everyone knows I’m off-limits. He’s got the church and the reception venue reserved—apparently one of his clients owed him a favor so it’s right on the ocean. And the guys already have their tuxes. You and I are the only ones who need to get dresses and he knows the owner of a bridal shop who will fit us in with no issues. It seems like a whole lot of planning for just one day.”
Alena smiled. She was so glad her sister had found someone who treasured her for exactly who she was. “It’s more than one day. If you guys couldn’t afford it, then I’d say yes, skip all the fussy stuff but…he’s your family now.” Something she and Nika had never really had. “Doing something like this will be important to his side. You’ll have no regrets.” She wondered if Nika would take his last name, then immediately dismissed the thought. Of course Nika would. Soon she’d be Nika Gallagher instead of Nika Brennan.
“Yeah, you’re right. And it’s only going to be forty or so people so it won’t be huge. I don’t think I could handle that.” Suddenly Nika’s gaze turned sly. “Maybe I’ll get to mark you down with a plus-one.”
It took a moment for Alena to understand what she meant. “If you’re talking about Andre, definitely don’t get your hopes up.” Even if Alena secretly hoped that maybe…one day he could forgive her, she was a realist.
Nika just made a hmm sound.
Deciding to ignore the Andre topic, Alena continued. “I swear, you really did land a good one with Declan.”
“I know. Some days it’s hard to believe. We’ve even helped the police with a couple cases. Off the books, of course.”
Alena lifted an eyebrow but wasn’t exactly surprised. Her sister was a psychic, as strange as that sounded to her. Years ago, Nika had been in a horrific car accident. She’d broken both her legs, ribs, and had suffered brain swelling. It had been one of the darkest times in Alena’s life, thinking she might lose her baby sister. Ever since then, Nika had seen flashes of the future. Sometimes little premonitions, sometimes much bigger ones. They’d used her sister’s gift when hunting the men who’d killed their parents, but she was glad that Nika was using it for something so positive. Declan had some psychic gifts of his own, too, so they were a perfect match. “That’s incredible. I’m so proud of you. Will you invite Uncle Baxter to the wedding?”
“Of course. I miss him too. I’ve already given him a heads-up but I just need to let him know the actual date.”
Alena had started to say more when she heard a little beep, indicating that the front door had opened. Less than a minute later, Declan stepped into the room. He smiled when he saw her and gave her a brief hug before moving right to his fiancée.
He might be wearing a suit, but there was an edge to him. A sort of roughness. He had an almost invisible scar next to his left eye and a slightly crooked bottom tooth that did nothing to take away from his looks. He was handsome, but not classically so and she was sure that he’d seen a lot of bad things when he’d been in the CIA. Not the kind of man Alena had pictured her sister ending up with, but he was perfect for Nika.
In the past, mostly when she and Nika had been younger, men had occasionally gone after Nika in an attempt to get to know Alena. Something that disgusted her to no end. Seeing Declan with her sister, there was no doubt that the man only had eyes for Nika. He was beyond smitten with her. “All right, you two, none of that in front of me. I—” She put a hand to her mouth as another wave of nausea swept through her.
“Really?” Declan’s voice was dry as he raked a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t actually make you sick.”
Laughing lightly, she shook her head and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
His espresso-colored eyes widened. “What did Andre say?”
A ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. She was glad that Declan assumed it was Andre’s, since it most definitely was. Despite her party girl reputation, almost all of it was fake. She’d cultivated her persona because it had been a lot easier to get into places when she’d been hunting the people who’d killed her parents. In reality she’d never done any drugs, and her lovers had been few. She’d always been incredibly picky. Though no one compared to Andre. “I haven’t told him yet.”
Declan simply nodded and expertly changed the subject. “Well, if you ladies would like, we can head out tonight for dinner or I’ll order take-out. You’re probably exhausted with all the travel so we’ll leave it up to you.”
Nika nodded along with him. “Yep, it’s up to you, big sister.”
“Take-out is fine with me, but I can only eat something really light. Maybe a Greek salad. Honestly I’d be fine with one of those salads from Publix. Also…tomorrow night I have a thing, a gala, I have to attend with a friend of mine.” It was a risk going out with her small baby bump but she had the perfect dress to hide it. If the media bothered to speculate on her, they’d probably just think she’d gained weight. Which was apparently a mortal sin when you were a model.
“With who?” Nika asked.
“Nathaniel Johnson.”
“Aww, I love him. He’s one of the only decent guys you ever went out with. It’s too bad there was never any chemistry.”
“Agreed.” Nathaniel was the sweetest man. And crazy wealthy to boot. But there had never been a spark between them. They acted as each other’s plus-ones at events where they wanted to fend off unwanted advances. And Nathaniel had called in a favor. Considering he’d done the same for her numerous times, she hadn’t been able to say no. And she missed him anyway. The past month she’d been holed up in her house, and getting out would be refreshing.
As Nika and Declan pulled out an array of take-out menus, talking about what sounded good, she contemplated calling Andre later that night. But no, this was the type of conversation that needed to be done in person. She just had to figure out a way to approach him, to say the actual words. From there… Ugh. Who knew what would happen.
* * *
Andre looked up as his assistant stepped into his Biloxi office. Instead of heading back to Vegas a week ago, like he should have, Andre had stayed at his other casino. Because it was marginally closer to a woman he should hate.
A woman he couldn’t get out of his fucking mind. And he didn’t hate her.
Barry hesitated in the doorway, something he never did. “I have an update on Ms. Brennan for you.”
Fuck. Of course it had to be about Alena Brennan. Barry had never questioned why Andre wanted regular updates on the woma
n. Andre could tell himself it was because she’d lied to him, infiltrated his house and tried to kill his father—who was now thankfully dead, though not by her hand—but it was simply because he’d fallen for her.
Except he didn’t know if he’d fallen for the real her or the lie. He’d replayed their time together over and over in his head too many times. She was beautiful, to be sure, but she was also smart. And she’d played very hard to get. He’d been up to the challenge of chasing her. When he’d finally caught her—he hadn’t wanted to let go. Then everything had gone to hell. “What is it?”
“Her agent has canceled all her jobs for the foreseeable future. And she made a short announcement on social media that she was stepping back from work for the time being. No time frame given and no details.”
That was interesting. Alena wasn’t tall enough to be a supermodel but she’d made a big splash as a model for luxury items. Cigars, cars, a couple European clothing lines. It was no wonder. She was walking, talking sex appeal.
Everything about her was larger than life. She had high cheekbones, expressive dark eyes, naturally full lips, smooth caramel skin and an incredible body he knew that she worked damn hard for with Pilates and swimming. He resisted the urge to pull out his cell phone and look at the one photo of her he still had. They hadn’t even been in a relationship long—not that it had been a real relationship. He thought it had been, but now he knew the truth. He’d been a means to an end for her, and nothing more.
Still, he hadn’t been able to delete everything from their time together. Of course it was easy enough to go online and look up a picture of her, but all of those were airbrushed. He had something real. In the picture, she wore tight, dark jeans, knee-high boots and a belted coat with oversized sunglasses. Her lips had been painted a dark red, giving her a sultry look. He’d snapped it when they’d disembarked from his jet so many months ago. The first day they’d arrived in Miami together. He shook the thought off and focused on his assistant who was still talking.
“She’s also…” Barry cleared his throat. “Ah, she’ll be attending the conservancy gala, the nineteen-twenties-themed one, with Nathaniel Johnson in Miami tomorrow night. I heard it from a contact of mine.”
Andre kept his expression neutral as he turned back to his computer. “Thank you. Call my pilot, tell him I’ll be heading out later tonight. He needs to be on standby.”
“Where will he need to file a flight plan?”
“Miami.”
Barry simply nodded and stepped out of the office. Only once his assistant was gone did Andre shove back from his chair and stalk to the window that overlooked the biggest pool at the hotel. Shaped like a palm tree, with multiple cabanas surrounding it and a full staff, he was certain that everyone in the crystal clear, glistening water was enjoying themselves.
He wished he could enjoy himself too. But he’d been miserable for the last four months. He couldn’t seem to get out of his own head. He was obsessed with thoughts of seeing Alena again.
And like a masochist, he was headed to Miami tonight in the hopes of seeing her tomorrow. Pathetic.
It didn’t matter if it was, he was still going. He needed fucking closure. That was all it was. There were some things he wanted to say to her. Once he did, he’d be able to walk away. He was certain of it.
Chapter 2
“What’s going on with you?” Nathaniel asked as he and Alena stepped through a back entrance to the gala.
Arm slipped through his, she looked up at him. Even with her in heels he was much taller. It was a shame there wasn’t any chemistry between the two of them. She knew for a fact she wasn’t his type. He could have been hers. With an easy smile that hinted at a little wicked, gorgeous baby blues, and a lean, runner’s physique, he could be any man or woman’s type. Unfortunately, it appeared she only had one type. Andre.
“What do you mean?” she asked as they strode down a quiet hallway of the convention center.
The gala was in a huge ballroom closer to the front of the building, and she’d asked him if they could avoid the main entrance. She’d known there would be photographers there, mostly just local ones, covering this event for the local Miami outlets. But Miami was a glitzy, gorgeous place and occasionally paparazzi did show up, especially since more than a handful of actors and musical artists attended functions like this.
“Why didn’t you want to walk in on the red carpet? For the record, I don’t care, it just seems out of character.”
She snorted softly at that. With her job, getting photographed publicly was often a good thing. Exposure and all that. “I just didn’t feel like it. Thank you for understanding.”
“You didn’t have to come with me tonight.” As they reached a set of double doors, he paused with his hand on one of them.
She could hear music and many voices just past the doors. “I wanted to. I’ve missed you.”
He gave her an assessing look. “I’ve missed you too. And something is different about you.”
During the time frame when she’d been hunting down her parents’ killers, she hadn’t seen much of Nathaniel. She’d sort of been avoiding him. She hadn’t wanted to be around any of her true friends, the people she loved and adored, when she’d been on her quest for revenge. It had been easier to focus when it had just been her and Nika. “Good different?”
“I don’t know. You look stunning as always. Does this have to do with you and Andre Makarov?”
She blinked at the question. He couldn’t know she was pregnant…could he? Her dress was a deep blue with a beaded neckline and a tiered, fringed skirt that hid her baby bump well. The beaded design covered every tier so that the dress shimmered with every step she took. With a deep vee in the back and a low-cut neckline, she was almost guaranteed that no one would notice her bump. “Why would you ask that?”
He lifted a shoulder, apparently his only answer, and opened the door. As he did, he set his hand on the small of her back and ushered her inside. Immediately she experienced sensory overload. Rich, spicy scents of some kind of Cajun food filled the air, someone was playing a piano—the song simple, but something about it made her want to cry because lately everything did—and men and women dressed in fun nineteen twenties getup were everywhere.
“Two-step ragtime,” Nathaniel murmured.
“What?”
“The music.” He glanced down at her, that little smile playing at his mouth.
Damn it, life would be a hell of a lot easier if she was into him. “Oh…you didn’t answer my question.”
Lifting a shoulder, he scanned the crowd again as they moved through a throng of tables. He obviously knew where they were going. “When the two of you broke up, you never said much about it. That’s not like you.”
“Yeah.” Her relationship with Andre had been speculated at in the media and on social media briefly but neither of them had made any public statements when they’d parted ways—ha, such a civilized way to put it—and everyone had quickly lost interest. He wasn’t famous and she technically wasn’t either. Yes, she represented exclusive, glamorous lines and she was often invited to parties all over the world, but she wasn’t famous in the way actresses or supermodels were. She wasn’t always recognized when she went out in public. She liked it that way. She made a nice living and could walk her dog without being harassed by paparazzi. If she had a dog.
“That’s it? Yeah?”
Sighing, she looked up at her friend. Alena wasn’t sure what he saw in her expression, but the flicker of pity in his gaze made her wince.
“Finally fell for someone, huh?” he murmured.
“Yep.”
“He’s a fool for letting you go,” Nathaniel said.
“No, he’s not.” She glanced away from her friend, afraid she’d start crying if she thought too hard about Andre.
“Well, we’ll agree to disagree. This is us.” As they reached a table, he shook hands with a couple who she quickly learned owned their own law firm. The rest of the seats were
empty but she was sure they would fill up soon.
Both men stood and shook her hand as introductions were made. As she sat, she moved the skirt of the gold tablecloth slightly so her heels wouldn’t get caught in it. Everything was gold, black and glittery. A huge display of sparkly gold feathers erupted from a gold and black vase in the middle of the table.
The blond man, Steve, sat with her as his partner stood talking with Nathaniel. “Why do you look so familiar?” he asked.
She half-smiled. “Ah, I’ve done some modeling.”
“That’s it! I knew I recognized you. And you’ve done more than ‘some.’ I love that ad you did for…”
She half listened as a wave of nausea swept through her. No. No, no, no. She would not get sick here. She simply couldn’t. She’d already gotten “morning” sickness today. And she’d made sure to eat a little before she left so her stomach wasn’t empty. But all these smells. The food alone was enough to make her react, but there was an array of perfumes filling the air. She didn’t remember ever being so attuned to scents, but maybe her pregnancy had brought it on.
Whatever the reason, she didn’t like it.
“How do you like living in Miami?” she asked, after answering a non-personal question about one of the designers she’d worked with.
“It’s great here.” He continued talking as the table started to fill up.
She was introduced to more people and was starting to feel a little better until she stood to greet a woman she’d met at another gala with Nathaniel a few years ago.
“Summer,” Alena murmured, shaking her hand. “It’s been a while. And you look fantastic.” Tall, leggy, and lean, with jet-black hair falling in big spiral curls around her face, the woman definitely was that.
Summer narrowed her gaze slightly. “You do too, and I don’t mean this as an insult but you look as if you could use some fresh air. It’s the doctor in me.”
