by Maya Blake
Luc’s circumstances, growing up a product of privilege, couldn’t be more different, and yet, they connected. He listened. He seemed to care. Everything on the surface of Luc’s life looked perfect—important career, gorgeous girlfriend from a well-connected family, and of course, the Marshalls were no slouches when it came to providing for their children. He had succeeded in all the ways society valued, and yet he said he felt empty. His plastic surgery career was only fulfilling when he worked for Doctors Without Borders. He felt estranged from his siblings—he and Rafe were always at odds, and Elana was so scattered it was impossible to maintain a connection. Then had come the most telling detail—his relationship with Rachel was shallow. Meaningless. He’d used those exact words.
Once, while driving her to the estate after her own car broke down, he’d asked her if she had siblings. She’d replied that she was an only child and abruptly changed the subject. Revealing more details at that point would be nothing more than opening Pandora’s box. As much as she wanted to match his openness, she couldn’t afford to do it. It would leave her too exposed. So she’d deflected back to him, and that seemed to work.
She’d had no reason to suspect he considered her anything more than a friend. She was a housekeeper, for God’s sake, and he was dating a stunningly beautiful congressman’s daughter. Their lots in life could not be any more different. Perhaps the absurdity of their friendship was the reason she’d allowed it to continue. But then one day he came to the house and there was a look in his eye that stopped her dead in her tracks.
“I’m falling for you, Vanessa,” he’d said. “You’re all I think about. I make up excuses to come to the house, just so I can see you. When I get home, I replay every word between us.”
Vanessa could still remember exactly how hard her heart was hammering when he’d made his confession. “Luc. No. This isn’t right.”
“Why? Because it feels anything but wrong.” He’d reached for her then, and it was hard to keep her wits about her. He was so sincere.
“I can’t tell you why,” she’d said before stealing away upstairs to her room.
She couldn’t tell him then, and she couldn’t tell him now. She needed to tell Mariella first.
“The red dress really is quite lovely.” Mariella smoothed her hand over her hips and swiveled back and forth before the mirror.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Vanessa said. It was the truth.
“I know I’m supposed to wear dark colors, but I don’t think I have the strength to try on another dress anyway. Plus, it’s my ball. Let’s go with this one. You can take the rest away.”
Vanessa went right to work, gathering the luxurious silk and satin dresses and draping them over her arm. After four or five, she was already feeling weighed down. “I’ll be right back for the rest.” She headed into Mariella’s closet. The boxes the dresses had been shipped in, from Italy, France, Japan and all over the US, were neatly stacked.
“Vanessa!” Mariella called out.
Panicked, Vanessa plopped down the dresses and walked double time back to Mariella’s room. She’d seemed almost happy when Vanessa had left a minute ago. There was no telling what fresh hell had just been unleashed. “Yes? Is there a problem?”
Mariella was standing there holding the dress she’d earlier described as hideous. “Is there any chance you and I wear the same size?” She looked Vanessa up and down, eyebrows lowered in deep concentration, almost as if she was seeing her for the first time.
“Yes, Mariella. I believe so. Is there a problem?”
Mariella smiled. “You know, you really are a beautiful girl. Why don’t you take this dress and join us at the ball tonight? You’ve been such a help to me over the last few weeks, and it’s no fun to sit in your hotel room by yourself. We’re in Vegas. You should come and enjoy yourself.”
Vanessa didn’t know what to say. She’d suddenly lost the ability to speak. Perhaps if Mariella had a more regular habit of saying nice things, Vanessa wouldn’t have been so unprepared. “Thank you so much. I would love to go to the party.”
“Perfect then. It’s settled. You’ll have to find a mask, but I’m sure you can track one down.” Mariella handed over the dress. “You can get back to work now. Please, clean all of this up.” She fluttered her hand at the spate of haute couture littering her room.
Vanessa quickly collected the other dresses, her mind reeling. What in the hell had just happened? She rushed back into Mariella’s closet. She took a moment and ran her hands over the exquisite handwork adorning the dress she would apparently be wearing tonight. How was this happening? Generosity from Mariella was no everyday event. If only Joy was still at Casa Cat, she’d laugh her ass off over Vanessa being invited to the fancy ball. She’d call her Cinderella. But Joy had quit last night. She’d said she couldn’t stand working for Mariella anymore. Vanessa had her own reasons for sticking around. The time was coming for Mariella to find out that Elana wasn’t Mariella’s only daughter.
Chapter Two
Elana eyed the stunning gown she was set to wear to tonight’s masquerade ball. It was black raw silk with fine silver threads woven in, low cut in the front and back, with just enough give in the tummy region. A few months ago, she would’ve been excited by the prospect of walking into the party in a dress that would show off every inch of her curves. Now? Her confidence was a little lacking, even though she knew it was silly. Her baby bump was hardly there—just the slightest protrusion of her lower belly. Still, she felt huge. Perhaps she felt that way because it was more than a baby—it was a reminder that the new challenge on the horizon was now barreling at her. As the person who questioned her own ability to do most things with some minimum of competency, being responsible for a human life was a scary prospect for Elana.
“Cut it out,” she muttered to herself.
She traipsed over to her jewelry case to pick out the perfect earrings for this evening. She needed to turn around her thinking. She had a drop-dead gorgeous husband and a life most women would kill for. This baby on the way was a new beginning, a fresh start, and if anyone needed that, it was Elana. She would finally be forced to get her act together. In an ideal world, the baby would also compel her to get over her addiction to Jarrod. He was a habit she absolutely, positively had to quit. The problem with quitting Jarrod was that thoughts of him always managed to find their way into her head.
She was haunted by visions of seeing him last night, the way he had just shown up in her room. Part of her had been royally pissed off that he would be so presumptuous. Another part of her, the foolish and needy part, loved that he’d done something so impossibly romantic. He’d gone to great lengths to get to her, and he’d wanted her so badly it practically made her panties melt. It was a miracle no one had spotted him, and that element of danger only added to the thrill, even when she knew that Jarrod was bad for her, even when she knew that if Thom had seen him there, so much would’ve been ruined. She would’ve let down her family, again. She would’ve turned her back on the one safe bet she had in her life—Thom.
The thing Elana was most ashamed of from last night was what went through her head as her eyes raked over Jarrod’s gorgeous body—a series of impulsive, reckless thoughts. She’d nearly blurted that she was pregnant and that the baby might be his. She’d fantasized about what might happen if she and Jarrod had just hopped on a plane and run away together. It was a minor miracle she hadn’t been that crazy. Jarrod did things to her that made her behave as though she had every screw loose. But no, she’d been strong and sensible. She’d managed to resist his advances and send him packing, but there had been little victory in that. Showing restraint sucked, big-time.
But she was determined to be happy and content with Thom. He was an amazing guy, her best friend. He was handsome, competent and, most importantly, her husband. They were man and wife now. But she still wasn’t sure it had bee
n the right decision. So many people were unhappily married. Jarrod and his wife were hardly a couple, never seeing each other and cheating like crazy. Would Jarrod leave his wife if Elana was indeed carrying his child and she told him? Probably not. Elana had to stop sending herself on these wild goose chases, fretting over every possible life choice. She was done with being the family disaster. It was time to do the mature, responsible thing.
A knock came at the door of the walk-in closet. “Just come in, Thom. I’m your wife.” His impeccable manners could be truly annoying sometimes.
“I didn’t want to disturb you. I know how you are when you’re getting ready for a party, doing your hair, your makeup.”
“It’s all done. I’m just about to put on my dress.”
“So you’re almost ready?”
She sucked in a deep breath and stared at herself in the mirror. Was her face getting fat, too? “Yes. Ten minutes. Fifteen, tops.”
“Perfect. I can’t wait to see the big reveal.”
Elana smiled. “I’ll hurry.” She might complain to herself, but the truth was that Thom was a wonderful husband. Since they’d gotten back from their honeymoon, they’d settled into a comfortable routine. Despite the way she was drawn to the more dangerous and primal aspects of time with Jarrod, it was nice to have someone to come home to. It was comforting to have something steady and reliable in her life. Thom, too, seemed happy, almost relieved that the knot was finally tied.
But he might not be so understanding if the baby arrived with a skin tone that did not reflect that one parent was African American. If that happened, Elana would be in hot water unlike any she’d ever experienced. With her mother desperate to keep the family away from scandal, Elana would become public enemy number one in the Marshall household. As to the fate of her marriage, it was anyone’s guess, but as sweet as Thom was, no man would take kindly to their wife having another man’s child.
The door opened and in walked Thom. He tapped his watch. “You said you were going to hurry. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.”
“Sorry. I guess I was just daydreaming.” She pushed aside the damning details in her head, everything that might go wrong. For now, her secret was best left buried.
* * *
Something was off with Elana. No question about that. She was keeping something from him, and that only fed his paranoia, which was already a huge weight on his shoulders, a dark cloud hanging overhead. Was her secret actually his secret? Had she found out about his close encounter with Lane, her mother’s hairdresser? Had she finally figured out that this veneer he wore every day was easily peeled away?
Gabe had promised not to release the photos in which Thom looked as if he was kissing Lane, his silence in exchange for Thom’s, but there was still this nagging voice in the back of his head saying that Elana’s mind was busy with much more than thoughts of the pregnancy. There had to be something else.
“Is there something bothering you?” he asked.
She was quick to shake her head. Almost too quick. “I think the baby is making me tired. I need a vacation.”
“Let’s go back to Bali,” he said, only half joking. Things had been so simple when they were away. It was impossible to be stressed with a crystal-blue ocean steps away. He laughed quietly to himself. They lived in Santa Barbara, for God’s sake. They had ocean breezes almost any time they wanted them. It wasn’t the same, though. Bali was outside the Marshall pressure cooker, nearly eight thousand miles—Thom had googled it. For just a small amount of time, he and Elana had finally had a break.
“I know. I could’ve easily stayed another month.”
“Now we’re back to reality.” The gravity of the statement did not escape him. Thom did not enjoy walking around with secrets tucked inside his head, and he’d already spent so much of his life trying to keep one of them. “But it’s good, right?”
“The best.” Elana looked in the mirror as she put on an elaborate pair of earrings, long and sparkly, heavy with diamonds. “I hope things go well tonight. My mother might lose her mind if we don’t get better control of the position the family is in right now. The rumors about my dad and Marshall International are killing her. She can’t handle it when the public narrative is anything less than perfect, and right now it’s about as far from perfect as it can be.”
Thom nodded in quick agreement. They’d all seen firsthand just how close to the brink Mariella was these days. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’m sure tonight will be amazing. My parents are thrilled to be going. It’s all my mother can talk about.”
“I’m glad your family is excited. Right now, I’m more worried about keeping my family from breaking out into fistfights. Again.”
“I’m sure everyone will be on their best behavior.”
Elana turned and raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you can be so optimistic. I’m telling you, my mother and Ana are this close to getting into it again.” She held up her hand, leaving a whisper-thin space between her thumb and forefinger. “And it only gets worse from there. I know my brothers are dreading another public event. I wouldn’t put it past Luc and Rafe to bring boxing gloves this evening.”
At the very mention of Rafe’s name, Thom’s heart flip-flopped. Would that feeling ever go away? He worried it might not. He sensed that whatever image he donned for the rest of the world, his heart would always know what it wanted. It was futile, of course. Utterly pointless. Thom had made his choice. He’d passed the point of no return. He would always be faithful to Elana. He took his vows seriously, and he took his role as father-to-be equally so. Even if living a life pretending to be something he wasn’t might kill him.
The doorbell rang. “Not sure who that could be. I’ll get it,” Thom said.
“I’ll be ready in a second.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Likely story.” Elana laughed, and Thom made his way down the hall.
When he opened the door, a hotel staff member was waiting with an envelope in hand. “This just arrived, Mr. Scott.”
Thom grabbed his wallet for a tip. “Thanks. There you go.”
“Have a nice night,” the man said, handing over the envelope.
Thom’s sights narrowed on the package. He did not recognize the return address. A PO box in Los Angeles. It was definitely addressed to him, not Elana. He ripped it open, and inside was a check made out to him. Thom was accustomed to seeing a lot of zeros, but this number stole his breath away. The note that came with it, however, was more like a punch to the gut.
Keeping up my end of the bargain. You keep up yours.
“What’s that?” Elana asked.
Thom nearly had a heart attack. He stuffed the check back into the envelope as nonchalantly as possible. He shrugged, hoping it was convincing. He was feeling anything but calm and dismissive. His pulse was punishing him right now, his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest. “Just my piece of a real estate deal. My dad wanted me to have it ASAP.”
“A good payday?”
Thom felt like he might be sick. “Definitely. Which is important with a baby on the way.”
* * *
Rachel sat straight and beamed at her own reflection in the mirror, repeating her three favorite words in her head. Rachel Franklin-Marshall. Her married name was pure poetry. It rolled off the tongue so well. It sounded like American royalty, which suited Rachel quite well. She could easily picture her married name in society pages and even in gossip rags, although she and her husband would only be associated with things that were of the highest class. Dr. Luc Marshall and his gorgeous wife, Rachel Franklin-Marshall, at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the children’s hospital wing they have so generously paid for.
She held out her hand and admired the glorious ring Luc had given her—five carats of oval-cut diamond, a tasteful size without being garish, flanked by some bonus di
amonds on the side. Her friends were so jealous they could spit. Of course Rachel had been thankful to receive it, but the reality was she’d put a ridiculous amount of work into getting it. Men were so clueless. Luc had no idea how much time and effort she put into being the perfect girlfriend and now the perfect fiancée. Her body required countless hours with her Pilates instructor, regular waxing, tweezing, exfoliating and buffing. She never let her highlights grow out more than a quarter inch. She did not have a single split end on her head. She’d grown up with the expectation of perfection, as had Luc, and she always delivered.
She’d had her eye on Luc long before they’d started dating, so in truth, she had years invested in him already. Rachel prided herself on always being smart about men, calculating. She didn’t let her idiotic heart lead that way. That was a recipe for ending up living in a ramshackle house with an auto mechanic. Oh, no. Rachel was destined for so much more. Handsome, sexy Dr. Luc Marshall was the ideal man, and he would be hers, forever. She’d made the engagement happen, and absolutely nothing and no one would stop what came next. Which was why it was so frustrating to have to deal with the meddlesome interference of Vanessa. She was a housekeeper, for God’s sake. What was Luc even thinking? How could he look at her and have any romantic thought of her at all?
And yet Rachel knew he did and he had. She’d caught them talking at Casa Cat, and then at Elana’s wedding when he put the garter on Vanessa’s leg, she knew that look in her soon-to-be husband’s eye...somewhere between sappy, lovesick puppy and sex-starved horndog. She wasn’t about to let him stray, not when she was so close to having what she wanted. But Rachel knew men. No matter their best intentions, they all had wandering dicks. It was a well-documented fact. Her father was a politician. She’d seen more men kissing women who weren’t their wives than she cared to count.
