Max gave her no choice. ‘Please, send them in.’ In a less authoritative voice he murmured to Jenna, ‘I’m happy to hold you all night but first I need to know you and the baby are okay.’
Chapter 18
The following day Jenna was restless.
A quick look at the screen of her mobile phone told her she still had over an hour to wait until two ladies arrived from London. One was bringing a selection of maternity wedding dresses, the other a selection of wedding bands.
Intent on keeping busy, she decided it was time to go and look through her office. Maybe being back behind her desk would dislodge a few more memories. At the very least, it’d help Jenna take her mind off all the drama of the previous night.
While she made her way out of the house and towards her office, she kept thinking about Carmen’s assertion they were sisters. Max had spoken to Carmen’s mother and been told that as a child, Carmen had pretended she lived up at the main house and Hector was her father. It seemed that over the years she’d convinced herself her fantasy was reality, even though her biological father had reached out to her only eighteen months ago.
Jenna pushed the disturbing thoughts out of her mind. At least Carmen had been admitted to the psychiatric unit last night and would now receive the support she needed.
When she walked up the stairs and reached her office door, Jenna’s hand hovered over the door knob. Her forehead pulled into a frown.
Get on with it, she admonished before swinging the door open.
It was a smallish room, but she guessed she probably spent most of her time out training horses and little time in here. The wall to one side of her desk was all glass, affording a brilliant view of several training arenas. A window behind the desk offered a good view over the courtyard and the lake beyond.
The desk was relatively clear—a pile of papers and a lovely framed photo of Max and her at dinner.
Yes! She remembered this photo being taken.
She picked up the frame. Max had taken her out for dinner with his friends. It was the first time she’d met Luca’s wife, Olivia, and they’d all had a wonderful night together.
Luca Borghetti was proudly Italian and happily devoted to Olivia. Nick Henderson was British. His wife had died and he declared he’d never marry again.
Oh, yes, she remembered these driven, smart, and extremely loyal friends. Once she’d gone past the potent point of being blown away by meeting three handsome, powerful males en masse, she’d enjoyed their company and the camaraderie they shared. Luca’s Australian wife, Olivia, had been an immediate and very firm friend.
Oh wow. It was all coming back to her.
She sank into the chair behind her desk and dialled Max so she could share the exciting news.
‘Hi, sweetheart, are you okay?’
‘Better than okay. I’m at my office and I’ve just remembered your friends.’
‘Fantastic!’
Remorse struck at her conscience. ‘Max, I shouldn’t have excluded them from our wedding. I wanted our exchange of vows to be private, but I was being selfish and should’ve thought of you wanting your closest friends to be there.’ They might have been strangers to her at that point but they’d obviously meant the world to him and she should’ve considered it. ‘Is it too late to invite them?’
‘It’s not too late and I know they’ll drop everything to come.’ His voice was warm with gratitude. ‘Thank you, darling. I’d love for them to share in our happiness when we marry.’
‘I’m so sorry, Max, I wish you’d made me see how important this was to you.’ She went to bite her lip and winced because it was still swollen and sore from where Carmen had hit her. ‘I wish I’d thought of it before I remembered them.’
‘They’re very important to me. If they ever have a crisis, I’ll expect you to understand that I’ll shift heaven and earth to be there for them. But I’m not marrying them. This day is yours and mine. When I told them about Jersey, they understood you didn’t want an audience of strangers—especially after the debacle at Stow-on-the-Wold.’
They were fantastic guys. She wasn’t surprised they’d understood. ‘I was thinking family only, but I didn’t stop to consider that Luca and Nick are as close as family to you.’
‘They’re the two brothers I never had.’
Jenna let her head rest back against the comfortable office chair. ‘Is Diane like the sister I never had?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then she must be sad to be missing our wedding. I’ll phone her and invite her.’ Maybe seeing her friend would bring everything back. ‘Is there anybody else who’s going to be badly hurt if they only get an invitation to the reception we’ll have when we get home?’
‘You’ve covered our closest friends.’
Thank goodness. She preferred to focus on building memories and experiences with Max rather than trying to forge relationships with people she didn’t remember.
‘Any other memories resurfaced?’
‘No. I don’t remember the office, but I remembered the photo on my desk and the night it was taken. It feels as though I’m making progress with this amnesia—as though more memories are hitting me more frequently now. I’m really hopeful I’ll remember it all soon.’ When her words were met by a lengthy silence, she asked, ‘Are you still there?’
‘Jen …’
‘Yes?’
‘Uh … It’s time I gave you your wedding present.’
She tilted her head to one side in question and felt her features puzzle over his hesitant words. A neon caution sign flashed through her head. ‘You don’t sound too sure about it.’ Another pause. ‘Don’t you want to leave it until we’re married?’
‘No.’ That response was decisive. ‘I think it’s better you have it before we leave for Jersey.’
‘You’ve definitely piqued my curiosity. Want me to come back to the house now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay. Will you be in the study?’
‘Yes.’
‘See you soon.’ She disconnected, but didn’t move.
Something was off. There’d been weighty consideration behind each of Max’s words. Why would he act with such indecision about a wedding present? Shouldn’t he have been excited about her reaction to it?
Jenna raised her hand to the bruising at her temple. She’d told Max she’d meet him, yet her body wasn’t going anywhere because she couldn’t shake the strong sense of foreboding cementing itself in every cell. Every other time she’d had this feeling of dread, she’d been correct.
What could she possibly have to fear from a wedding gift from the man she loved?
Nothing.
Finally, she forced herself into action. There was no point in wondering and working herself up over what could be waiting for her around the next corner of this crazy life she led. Whatever it was Max was going to give her, she’d soon find out and she’d probably be thrilled.
As she stood up and moved to walk around the desk, she caught sight of an A4-sized manila envelope right at the top of the stack of papers on her desk. She stared at it and froze. Her chest tingled unpleasantly and cold fingers inched their way up her spine.
Stevens & Co. Solicitors.
Her name was neatly printed on the front of it.
Jenna’s smile died on her lips.
Stevens & Co.
She ran the name through her brain. Although she didn’t recall anything clearly, the cold fingers along her spine turned positively icy.
Almost afraid of what she’d find, she picked up the envelope. It hadn’t been opened, which meant she couldn’t possibly know the contents of the envelope and be trying to block out any unpleasant memories.
This mail must’ve arrived for her while she’d been away.
Her fingers were a little numb as she tore at the top of the envelope, withdrew the contents and began to read.
Shit.
The room spun.
Still clasping the documents from the mail, Jenna collapsed b
ack into the chair as searing pain lanced across her head from one temple to another. Gasping, she dropped the paperwork and held her head as a light show began in her brain. Memories were illuminated and this time, she saw them—replayed them frame by horrible, hated frame.
Hazy recollections at first.
Snippets of conversation—but with whom?
Thoughts.
Feelings.
The paralysis of shock. The bitterness of betrayal and the knee-jerk, self-protective mechanism of anger. She’d known all those emotions the night of the crash.
But what was memory and what was imagination?
Relax. Let the truth come.
There was a vague recollection of her solicitor from Stephens & Co. phoning. Steadily, the conversation came into focus and the bottom dropped out of her world as she remembered the news he’d delivered.
Still in a state of shock, she’d phoned her step-brother.
‘You bastard!’ she’d railed at James. ‘How could you do it to me? Herlstone Park is my home. It’s my life for God’s sake! I should have revoked your power of attorney.’ She would have if she’d stopped to consider it. ‘I’ve never been able to trust you.’
‘No, Jenna. Max Bennett’s the one you should never have trusted,’ James accused. ‘He’s always been after the Park, and he was determined he was going to get it one way or another. When he couldn’t marry you, he came after me.’
‘What are you insinuating?’
‘He soured deals for me with my suppliers and outlets at the brewery and the distillery so my costs of production escalated and my market diminished. His actions have forced both companies into liquidation—ripe for him and his business partners to swoop in like vultures picking over carrion. They bought the brewery and distillery for a song. And, not content with buying the family businesses, he insisted Herlstone Park was part of the deal so your ruination would be complete.’
‘None of what you say is true and, even if he had insisted, you acted without my consent.’
‘I didn’t need your consent. I have your power of attorney!’
‘You bastard, James.’
‘Poor Jenna. Bennett was getting back at you because he’s wanted you all these years and you let Dad kick him out, then you promptly forgot all about him.’
‘You’re lying about everything.’
‘Check the financial pages of today’s papers. You’ll find Henderson, Borghetti, and Bennett are the new owners of the companies that used to belong to us.’
There’d been an unread paper on the coffee table. Hastily, she flicked to the business section and saw it there in black and white. The distillery and brewery now belonged to Max and his friends.
Why hadn’t he told her?
Scanning the news, she read aloud. ‘It says here, “James Mendles severely mismanaged the businesses and is in deep personal financial debt. The once blue-chip, British businesses would have gone into liquidation and thousands of jobs lost had the three billionaires not stepped in to save them.” You ruined the companies, James. They’re saving them.’ It ran true to form for the three men to buy up ailing businesses and turn them into success stories.
‘They’re probably friends with the owner of the newspaper,’ he’d shot back. ‘The story doesn’t print how Bennett manipulated things to ensure the companies failed.’
‘I don’t believe Max was behind the failure of the companies and I don’t believe he’s acted out of revenge. You’re lying.’
‘Am I? You weren’t there when Dad threw him off the property. He and his parents were unemployed and homeless. He hated us and vowed he’d get even. He swore he’d get revenge on Dad one day and bring the Sinclairs and Mendles to their knees. He’s a ruthless bastard, Jenna. I’m only glad Dad isn’t around to see what he’s done.’
It’s what James had told her solicitor and what the solicitor had then repeated to her, but that didn’t make it true.
‘That’s bullshit, James, and I’m glad Charles isn’t around to see how you’ve failed the businesses.’
‘Without me you would’ve—’
‘Max asked me to marry him months ago. We’ve been going out since then and last night I accepted his proposal.’
James had laughed harshly. ‘Then he wins, doesn’t he, Jenna? The poor little stablehand son of a housekeeper and chauffeur ends up with everything—the manor home he always coveted, ongoing wealth from the family businesses, and to top it all off, he gets exclusive rights to screw the daughter.’
‘Don’t be crude.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ he threw right back at her. ‘Open your eyes, Jenna. If you really think Bennett cares for you, you’re more idiotic than I thought. This is about getting even with you for leading him on and forgetting about him. It’s payback for Dad throwing him out on his arse. It’s about Bennett moving up in society while we’re forced out.’ He laughed harshly. ‘God, he must be laughing at turning the tables on us so neatly.’
‘He’s not like that.’
‘No? Then, tell me. How did you find out he was the owner of Herlstone Park? Did he tell you? If not, why not? The bank has had the property on the market for the last fortnight.’
If she’d been in an aircraft she would’ve sworn they’d hit clear air turbulence because her stomach had plummeted as James’ words found their mark. The truth about the ownership of Herlstone Park was irrefutable. Her solicitor had told her Max was the owner of her home and therefore her place of work.
He could throw her off the premises and she’d lose her home and her business—just like Charles had done to his parents.
Why hadn’t Max told her anything about buying the brewery?
Why had he insisted Herlstone Park was part of the deal when he knew it meant so much to Jenna? Her home had nothing to do with the brewery that was in financial ruin.
The bitter bile of betrayal scalded her throat. The entire matted mess made emotions override logic. She’d loved Max all her life and had agreed, last night, to become his wife. Had his whole marriage proposal been about revenge?
Her hands had been shaking as she’d picked up her phone and dialled Max’s number. When she’d been put through to his voice mail, she’d been close to tears.
‘My solicitor phoned. What the bloody hell is going on, Max? Damn it all! Pick up!’ Then she’d told him, ‘You can forget Paris this weekend and you can forget our engagement, but you’d better be home when I get there because I want answers. What you’ve done is unforgivable!’
Now, Jenna was slumped back in the chair. She was entirely shattered—broken into a million shards of jagged emotion. But no tears fell. Everything inside her was hollow with regret.
It’d all been a lie.
How utterly stupid she’d been.
This wasn’t her home. It belonged to Max.
It explained why he’d been able to employ all the members of the security team at the Park. It also explained why people kept deferring to him.
Why had he done this to her?
He’d admitted he wanted revenge against Charles, but he told her he’d never stopped loving her. Had that been a lie too?
Her palms rested over her baby swell and she felt physically ill. She’d given herself totally to him—heart, mind, body and soul. She was going to have his child.
He’d betrayed her.
How could I be so naive?
What if Max had been planning to evict her from her home and leave her destitute the way Charles had done to his parents? What if his plan had only changed because he’d discovered she was pregnant with his child?
Her mobile phone rang.
It was Max.
She ignored it, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do. She’d been badly burned by him. There was no way the scars would ever heal. How was she supposed to handle this and try to rise up from the smoking ashes of his revenge?
Long minutes passed.
Minutes she first spent taking deep breaths and trying to calm herself so s
he didn’t stress her baby.
Minutes where she played off all Max’s love and tenderness against the cold, hard facts outlined by her solicitor during their phone call and which were printed in the letter lying on the desk in front of her.
The sound of footsteps running up the stairs grew louder before Max burst into the room. ‘Jen, darling!’
He was a drop-dead, gorgeous deceiver and she hated the way he could still make her pulse go haywire.
‘Are you okay?’ His eyes scanned over her. ‘I worried when you didn’t arrive, then didn’t answer your phone.’
A maelstrom of feelings collided and tangled in her mind. ‘A couple of nights ago, I asked you if I was angry with you the night of the crash.’
His brows drew together.
‘You passed my question off as being a bit ridiculous. Although you didn’t actually deny it, you intimated everything was alright.’
He cleared his throat. ‘I evaded your question because I didn’t feel it was the time or place to talk about it.’
‘I phoned you the night of the crash.’ Her words were frigid. Despite trying to project an outward calm, her toes were curling and uncurling furiously in her court shoes. ‘I told you to forget about taking me to Paris for the weekend and to forget about us being married.’
‘You overreacted.’ His body was very still. He watched her and she guessed he was trying to gauge her mood—trying to work out how much she remembered. ‘You weren’t in possession of all the facts.’
The air was charged with her aggravation and made the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. ‘Against my instincts, I trusted your response. I let myself be thrown off the subject and convinced myself I must’ve imagined the memory of discord between us.’
‘Your anger was based on a misunderstanding.’
The limited space in the office made it impossible to pace away from him, so she stayed sitting in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest to stop from launching herself at him and hitting him hard.
Enunciating each word crisply in an attempt to control her anger, she said slowly, ‘You came to me at the church in Stow-on-the-Wold and told me I’d agreed to marry you before the crash. Not once have you told me I’d called it off.’
Seduced by the Stranger (Billionaires & Babies, #2) Page 23
