“I was afraid I would get too attached and he would die like my other babies did.”
“Markus had siblings?”
“Two sisters and one brother,” Judith confirmed in a whisper. “One stillborn, the other two dead within days of being born.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Blackthorn.”
“I never talk about them. It’s not about being embarrassed or ashamed, it was just too hard to talk about. It still is.” She brushed the tears that had moistened her eyes. “It never goes away, even if it does get slightly easier over time. When I realized that I had…alienated Markus because of my sorrow and fear, it was too late. The Senator is a hard man, and Markus, well, I guess he didn’t know how to reach his vapid and empty mother—or perhaps, didn’t want to beg for my attention.”
There was a lot hidden inside that confession but Hannah could not grasp it just now. “It’s never too late, Mrs. Blackthorn.”
“Judith.” She picked up the other Gin tonic and sipped it. “The thing is, he’s changed since Nicola betrayed him—I know about that, though I bet he doesn’t know I do.”
And I know nothing. “How? How do you know?”
“Mrs. Quinn called me. She thought Markus was going to kill Nicola when he caught her in bed with her personal trainer.” Judith cut herself off when she noticed Hannah’s shock. “He didn’t tell you.”
“No.” She was too surprised to say anything else.
“Well, now you know. When I arrived at his apartment, he wasn’t there. After Nicola, there’ve been so many women. Of course, as handsome as he is, he’s had his share of women in his life. But, since his ex-wife, there has been a string of…of…low-class women. Whores. All interested in his money.”
Do you think I’m one of them? “Mrs. Black—Judith, I don’t understand.”
There was a pause as Judith considered her next words. “I heard some wisps of a strange conversation my husband had with him four months ago or so. I prayed I was going mad, that the Senator was not suggesting that Markus hire a fake bride. And more recently, I heard him asking Markus over the phone about the bride interviews,”—she mimicked perfectly her husband’s way of talking—“and I may look like an empty-brained blonde, but I am not. ”
Holy crap. Hannah looked at the woman in front of her for a long moment. “Judith—”
The old woman’s palm went up again. “I know you. Your mother raised you well and you are a good girl, always have been. But you are not in love with him. So don’t try to fool me with false declarations of love at first sight.”
Hannah’s mouth opened and shut again. “All right. If you knew all that, why did you take me on this crazed shopping spree? Why all the fuss on that expensive wedding dress?” I never pegged you for a madwoman, Judith.
“I know Markus. I am his mother, after all. Despite all his bravado, he is a romantic at heart. He wants love in his life. And what’s more, he wouldn’t have chosen you if he was not fascinated by you. I saw the way his eyes devoured you.”
“It’s mere sexual fascination, Judith. Have you considered that? Lust?”
Judith signaled the waiter for their check, and facing Hannah again, gave a delicate harrumph. “Lust is the first step to a relationship.”
“Yes, but I am not fascinated—”
“Oh, please! You have been infatuated with him since you sprouted breasts. Don’t tell me he doesn’t stir desire in you still.” Judith chuckled at the light flush on Hannah’s cheeks. “He is handsome, intelligent, all male charm. You are a healthy woman. All you have to do is jump in bed with him. Time will do the rest.”
“Judith.” Hannah leaned back and crossed her arms. “I am not going to whore myself for a year to your billionaire son, just to be discarded and then labeled as one of his…how did you put it? Low-class women. Nor do I intend to seduce him just because you think he is fascinated with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She waved her hand in the air. “You are a modern woman. There is no such a thing as whoring yourself if you want to have sex with a man.”
“This conversation is making no sense. No sense at all. And I—” She wanted to say the woman was mad, that no mother in her right mind would ask such a thing, but the arrival of the waiter stopped her from continuing.
“Now, Hannah. I’m counting on you to show my son the love I couldn’t. I want you to make him—and Victoria—happy.” With that, she placed some bills in the black leather fold and rose. “Let’s go. We Blackthorns are never late.”
As Hannah followed Markus’s mother, she shook her head at the half-mad conversation and at the completely mad situation she had gotten herself into.
Too many people were counting on her, it seemed. Markus had hired her to help him get his daughter back. Now his mother wanted her to appease her guilty conscience for not having been the mother she should have been, expecting her to fill in the holes she had left behind.
I am even more mad than all of them put together to think this can work.
But Judith’s confession—as Markus’s bests and mosts and lack of ishes—had nestled itself in Hannah’s heart.
She just didn’t know that yet.
CHAPTER 14
Markus Blackthorn’s penthouse
7:30 p.m.
“It’s pretty simple, Ms. Kristensen,” said Mr. Jones. “500,000 dollars for every year you stay married, a new luxury vehicle at the end of every lease cycle, 25,000 dollars per month for shopping, beauty care, and small expenses.”
“Pretty simple,” Hannah said with a sweet smile as she finished reading the contract. Much prettier than I ever expected.
“What I mean is that it was a simple calculation based on your respective financial positions and understanding how they fit into your marriage,” said Mr. Jones, handing her a pen.
She accepted the pen, signed the papers, and passed them to Markus.
After the notary was satisfied, they all rose and headed toward the hall, with Hannah lagging a few paces behind the men.
She was not happy to see Markus keep Elijah from leaving by placing a hand on his arm. In fact, it had annoyed the hell out of her that Elijah hadn’t left when the notary and Mr. Jones arrived.
When the elevator doors closed, Markus turned to his father. “I need a small favor.”
Elijah tilted his head and looked at his son. If it was a small favor, he doubted Markus would come to him for it. “Yes?”
“Since you know the judge presiding over the custody case, do you think you could possibly persuade her to move up the hearing date? I’m going to end up killing Nicola or kidnapping Victoria if I have to wait for months. It’s torture and—”
Elijah held his hand up, signaling that he’d heard enough. Taking his cell phone out of his breast pocket, he appeared to be concentrating as he ran his finger over the screen several times. Then he tapped it once and held it up to his ear as he walked away from Markus.
“Wilson! Have you sold your condo yet? No, I’m not asking for myself, but I might have a buyer, if you are willing to give me a hand.”
Markus and Elijah couldn’t be more different in their dealings than day and night, and he usually regretted asking his father for favors, but for Victoria he was willing to pay the price. He went to fix himself a drink as he waited for his father to complete his wheeling and dealing.
“Well,” Elijah continued, still barely within earshot, “she’s a Negro, but she’s upper class. You won’t have to worry about her lowering your standards or property values.”
Really, Senator? He shook his head, disgusted at his father’s blatant prejudice. He sometimes wondered how Senator Blackthorn managed to get elected and re-elected and stay in public office for so many years with such disregard for the poor, immigrants, and minorities. He turned to Hannah and raising his Bowmore whisky, asked, “Want one?”
“I’m feeling sick.” She grimaced in disgust and he knew it was not against the drink.
A moment later, Elijah returned and said,
“Consider it done. I’ll let you know the new date as soon as I know it.”
“How did you—” Markus started to ask, then thought better of it. “Nevermind. Thanks, Senator. I knew I could count on you.”
“I’ll tell you later what I need from you, when you’re less…distracted.”
Markus gave his father a tight smile. “I hope it doesn’t involve another hostile takeover. As wealthy as I am, you’d think my life would be a lot more fun.”
“Powerful billionaires and their problems,” Hannah mumbled.
Elijah turned slowly to her. “No one expects you to be able to relate to the problems of people with wealth and status such as Markus, but you should at least make an effort.”
Hannah flushed. It had not been her intention to mock Markus. And she was on the verge of calling Elijah a bastard, but ironically it was her mother’s memory that held her back. Her mother had raised her to respect her elders and she was far too polite to say anything other than, “I am aware of my status and wealth, Senator.” Or lack of thereof, according to you.
“You should keep that in mind.”
But she didn’t come from the sort of background to be intimidated by a man, no matter who he was. “As I am aware of Markus needing me. Perhaps, I should have asked for more.”
Markus sighed. “Senator.”
“Try to be grateful, girl.” Elijah’s eyes became pools of ice. “You were raised in poverty by a single Irish mother who depended on our largesse. What Markus is gifting you, it is much more than your mother ever—”
She stepped back as if slapped.
“That’s enough,” Markus said in a silky voice, which held much of the contempt he was feeling against his father at the moment.
It was such an inhuman thing to say that it took Markus snapping at Elijah for Hannah to reset her mental parameters. She had guessed that Markus’s father was a harsh and unforgiving man from the years she had observed their interactions from afar. But she had never imagined he could be so cruel.
“Hannah is to be my wife, fake or not. You might not like her, but you will respect her.” Before Markus could reach for her, she raised her chin at a stubborn angle, swiveled, and walked to the stairs with her head held high.
“Son—”
He pivoted on his heels and stared his father down. “Have you forgotten what’s at stake?”
“I haven’t forgotten. But mark my words, that girl means trouble, Markus,” Elijah said.
“That girl means Victoria, Senator,” he countered and pushed the lift button. “And, that girl is a human being. You will respect her. She is my choice. And this is my home.” And I’ve had enough of your prejudices and rudeness.
Elijah’s mouth tightened. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“I always do,” Markus smoothly claimed.
Elijah couldn’t argue that but it didn’t mean he couldn’t try to have it his way, too.
The elevator doors opened and Markus waved Elijah in. “Good night, Senator.”
“Good night.” Not giving his son the customary goodbye kiss, he entered the elevator promising himself he would rid his son of the housekeeper’s petulant and ungrateful daughter.
“Hannah.”
She ignored Markus calling her as she had ignored his knocking on her locked bedroom door.
It was not as if she hadn’t heard him telling his father to respect her. It was exactly because she had that she wouldn’t open it. She had liked having him defending her, even if her words could be misconstrued as a mocking of his troubles with his daughter and his work. But it didn’t matter. She was feeling so humiliated, she didn’t want to hear anything he might have to say. Or perhaps, what he might want her to say to his father. She resented him for putting her in such a position, despite the fact that her being in it was partly her own fault. And it had hurt all the worse because his father’s words reflected the truth. Tears fell from her eyes and she brushed them away. I will not cry.
“Hannah.” Markus pressed down the knob and pushed the door only to discover it was locked. “Hannah, open the door.”
“Screw you, Markus Blackthorn,” she shouted. “Screw you and your bloody father and his bloody cruel words.” And your bloody crazy mother. Screw you all. A sob broke from her chest and she put her hands over her face, muffling the sounds.
Markus cringed when he heard her crying. He was a cold businessman and an unrepentant lady’s man, but he would never, ever, hurt or humiliate a person like his father had just done. “Hannah, I’m—”
“Fuck you.”
He paced away and lowered his head to the glass wall of the TV room. Great. Fantastic. Just perfect. He slowly beat his brow against the cold glass. Just fucking perfect, Senator. Thank you so very fucking much.
CHAPTER 15
Sunday, October 5, 2014
12:30 a.m.
“I began to fear you intended to stay in your room for the entire night.”
Hannah started and paused at the top of the extravagant red copper stairs. She had indeed planned to seethe in anger and self-pity the whole night. But after the tears of rage and humiliation ebbed away, she calmed down and conceded that he had come out in her defense against his own father and had tried to talk to her. She was misdirecting her anger, and Hannah was not one to be churlish, much less, unfair.
Then without warning, her rotten mood slid away and she decided to venture outside. Only to find he had been waiting for her. Well, that was thoughtful. Sweet, even. And for some reason it touched her more than was reasonable.
She tried to reason with her reasoning—which was thoroughly confounding—she was being foolish, thinking like this because she had been too alone in the world and that was nothing more than a scrap of politeness. This is craziness, Hannah. She rolled her eyes at herself. Your ticket to insanity, remember.
Slowly she turned and saw Markus, wearing sweatpants and a wealth of bare skin, stretched out on the TV room couch. The light of the iPad in his hand illuminated the harsh planes of his handsome face.
“The thought did cross my mind, but…” What? I was feeling guilty for yelling at you? Because that was what she was doing roaming his apartment at that hour, looking for him so she could apologize. At last, she finished lamely, “I am hungry.”
Despite it all, she retains her pride. He smiled and he found himself marveling at the wild kaleidoscope of emotions she inspired in him. Violence, admiration, scorching desire, and a strange tenderness, which was almost too much to bear. No woman made him feel all of them at once.
“What do you want from me? An apology?” She frowned when he didn’t answer, her chin jutting to a stubborn angle.
It was an expression that was growing familiar to Markus and one he found ridiculously charming. No. I want… But whatever it was he had wanted, was promptly forgotten when he shut off the iPad and noticed that the light coming from the glass wall lit up her dove-gray flimsy flowing Yoga shirt and pants and outlined her body.
There wasn’t much of her, but what there was, was all woman. The slim curve of her silhouette called to him like a familiar melody. Pert breasts and sleek belly. Sweetly flared hips. A deliciously rounded bottom.
For a moment he continued to stare at her as his body got hard. And harder.
She didn’t have a clue what was going through Markus’s mind as he stared at her with that unnerving intensity. And it freaked her out.
Then that dangerous, sinful smile slowly curved his lips. He rose with a sensuous grace so unexpected from such a large and tall man. Her heart slammed in her chest and she backed away a step.
“Mmm…what do I want from you.” He wanted, quite desperately, to taste her skin. To run his tongue down the elegant slope of her bruised neck, all the way to the graceful curve of her breast to discover her birthmark. Then lower. And lower. “An intriguing question.”
Her heart gave an alarming jolt. All the warning she needed to keep him firmly at arm’s length. She backed away again. “Don’t you dare come
another step closer.”
His soft chuckle trickled down her spine. “Now, now. That’s a challenge.”
Another step backward and she was flush against the wall. “Don’t.”
But he took the next step and put his palms on the wall, crowding her, towering over her.
She closed her eyes tightly and turned her face away when he lowered his face to hers. Not because she didn’t want him to kiss her, but to avoid his intense stare.
“I want you,” he said roughly, his lips brushing over the side of her neck and up to take her earlobe between his lips. Her hair smelled of flowers and fruits, of sweet Hannah. “I want you right now. I want you here.”
His lips felt so good against her skin, the softness of his beard sending shivers and tingles to the very center of her being. He made her long for him, long for all the things she couldn’t have, and curse the things she could.
She was weak—and wicked—and she gave in to the moment, running her hands over his broad, strong shoulders to dip her fingers in the silkiness of his hair.
Markus kissed her deeply and possessively, the way he wanted to have sex with her, with a skill that stole her ability to think or move.
He kissed her forcefully, relentlessly, meting out a punishment he was not sure she deserved. She made him heartsick, lonely. She made him crave what he vowed he would never need, never seek. And he didn’t like that.
Then he wasn’t kissing her any longer.
They were kissing each other. Taking and giving back, in equal measures.
“You’re irresistible, Hannah.” He wanted her, wanted her desperately. And that want, that need was different from any sexual feeling he’d had before.
He understood it now when some deadened part of him was kindling back to life.
And he would have her.
In the space of five days, it was a sublime shift from internal chaos to single-minded determination.
Then somehow she was on the couch, and he was there with her, half-on and half-off of her body.
He seemed so large, so powerful, and in that moment, so perfectly hers.
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