Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides)

by Tullis, Heather

  “Should I trust you?” Lana asked, though she was more than a little tempted to give in and see what he had in mind.

  “Always. Come on, I promise to behave. This will be a good surprise.”

  She stood and turned so he could help her with her coat. “Ah, so now it’s going to be a surprise, not just a walk, huh?”

  “Of course. Surprises are what keep things interesting.” He held the coat while she slid into it, then pulled it closed, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck as he buttoned the coat.

  “I am capable of doing it up myself,” Lana complained, slapping his hands. There was a note of laughter in her voice even she could hear, so she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t stop. It had been so long since she’d seen this fun, light side of him, totally excited about some new plan. She’d loved that about him.

  She also loved the feeling of being in his arms, so when he finished the buttons and squeezed her back against his chest for a moment, she couldn’t help but savor the feeling.

  Blake released her before she had reason to ask him to, took her hand, and led her out of the office. He smiled at Gina. “We’re going for a walk in the snow. We’ll be half an hour or so. If the place isn’t about to burn to the ground, don’t call us.”

  “You got it.” Gina grinned back at them and returned to her work.

  Lana hadn’t wanted to raise curiosity in their complicated relationship among the employees, but she allowed him to hold her hand as they walked through the foyer to the front doors. “Where exactly are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Just outside for a walk. And a snack,” Blake added.

  “You look smug,” she said. “What kind of secret are you keeping?” She smelled something familiar but didn’t dare believe it.

  “You’ll have to wait to find out. Don’t worry, I won’t keep it to myself for long.” He squeezed her hand. “How have you been feeling now you’re past the first trimester? I haven’t seen you run for the bathroom lately.”

  “The nausea is pretty much gone—no vomiting in the past few weeks. Definitely better.”

  “Good. I’m really glad. So you feel fine now?”

  “Yes.” Lana looked at his again and caught his eye. “Okay, seriously, what’s the deal?”

  “Hold on, we’re not there yet.”

  “Where?” When he just grinned, she pulled on his hand some more. “What’s going on?”

  He let a long moment pass before answering. “Do you remember the night we went to see Wicked and then took the long stroll home?”

  She did, vividly. “How could I forget?”

  “It was snowing,” he picked some of the falling snow from her hair, “and you looked so beautiful in the street lights, that red hair like a copper halo around your head, the snow creating a lacey veil. Like the one you rented when we were married.” He reached out and brushed away a flake that fell on her cheek. “I couldn’t help but stop to kiss you every few feet.”

  Lana saw him move in, and could have backed away. Instead she lifted her face, tipping it up so he could kiss her. His lips were warm, molding over hers. He pulled her closer, and for one moment she allowed herself to sink into his embrace.

  Then she pulled away, not wanting to let herself get too steeped in the moment. “I seem to remember something else about that night.”

  He let out an unsteady breath. “Yes, there was one more thing.” He turned back in the direction they had been walking. “Check my pocket.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Really?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to trust her memory. She slid her hand into his pocket and found a warm paper bag. Hardly daring to believe it, she pulled it out. The scent of roasted chestnuts hit her nose and she grinned. “I can’t believe it.”

  She opened the bag and took a deep sniff. Perfect. “Where did you get them?”

  His smirk grew. “I have my secrets.” He squeezed her elbow, pulling her to a stone bench that had been buried for weeks, but was now available for sitting. He looked like he expected it, so he must have arranged for it to be cleared.

  She tasted the nuts and her eyes rolled back in her head in appreciation. “These are terrific.” She held the bag out to him so he could take some.

  They ate them in silence for a couple of minutes and she stopped, looking at him. “Why did you do this for me?”

  He brushed the hair away from her eyes and trailed his fingers down around the shell of her ear, making her shiver a little. “Because I like to see you happy. And I wanted you to remember that we did have a lot of good times, even if things ended badly. No matter what happens, no one can take away what we meant to each other. We could mean just as much again if you’d give us a chance.”

  There was a sharp ache in her chest, and Lana couldn’t stop herself from leaning over and kissing him. Just a soft thank you. “I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.” He kissed her back.

  “Why do you keep trying so hard when I push you away?” She hadn’t been able to figure him out. If he’d cheated on her, why fight to make things work again? Wouldn’t it have been smarter for him to just to take part of her inheritance and run? Find someone easier to live with?

  “No one else is you. I miss you. And when I’m with you, everything seems a hundred times better. I know I can deal with anything when you’re here for me, being my staunchest supporter when my parents talk down to me, by my side when things go wrong and I need someone I can count on. And just being my friend. You’re the best of everything.”

  Confusion swirled in her mind. Everything said that she could trust him, but that tiny voice of caution wouldn’t completely let her go.

  Lana had opted for an obstetrician in Denver, so Blake drove them down for her next checkup. Conversation had grown so much easier between them since they had told everyone about the baby and their relationship. He wished they had cleared away the secrets months earlier.

  Before he knew it, they were in the examination room with the sonogram machine running in front of them.

  “It’s looking good,” the tech said after pointing out hands and feet. “Did you want to know about the baby’s gender?”

  Blake squeezed Lana’s hand and met her eyes. He nodded and smiled, but left the decision up to her.

  “Yes, we do,” she said.

  “Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

  “So, DiCarlo genes can throw something besides girls,” Blake teased her.

  She grinned hugely. “A boy. How do you feel about that, Daddy?”

  Thrilled, excited, terrified, like his chest would burst with joy. Blake settled for “I’d be happy either way, but I kind of hoped for a boy.” He reached out and touched her face. “You’re more beautiful than ever right now.”

  She blushed as she turned back to the doctor.

  This. This was everything he wanted wrapped up in a perfect little package. To be holding the woman he didn’t think he could live without and a son. Who could want more than that?

  Lana studied Blake as he pulled into the parking lot at the resort that evening. The doctor’s appointment had been in the afternoon, so with a stop for dinner and the drive back up the mountain, it had long-since gone dark.

  He came around and helped her out of the car.

  “Come on up. I have something to show you,” Blake took Lana’s hand, and she followed, not even wanting to protest.

  “What is it?” she asked as they entered the elevator.

  “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” His smile was so broad, his eye so devious, she wanted to kiss him.

  Somehow she managed to hold herself back.

  They only took a few steps down the hall before coming to his suite. He used his key card and let her go in first. In the sitting room, Lana nearly stopped when she saw the wrapped package on the coffee table. It had cute baby paper on it with ducks and frogs running helter-skelter across it.

  “Open it.” He gave her a little nudge and she moved toward
it.

  She sat on the sofa, and he took the spot beside her. The paper was smooth under her fingertips and she could smell the ink on it. She was tempted to pull it off slowly, then decided just to rip it. The paper revealed a tiny snuggly dolphin and a tiny baseball cap with a matching dolphin on front.

  “I was hoping it would be a boy. I would have been as happy with a girl, but I guess I’m just a typical guy that way,” Blake said. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s perfect. Perfect.” Lana turned to him and touched his cheek. She’d never felt so close to him, so much like she was where she belonged. He bent his head and kissed her, at first soft and gentle, luring her in as his hands slid across the bare skin on her arms, and one buried itself in her hair, tipping her head. He took the kiss deeper with every minute, both of them wrapped up in the joy of their baby and of being together.

  When he pulled her onto his lap, Lana acquiesced happily. Maybe it was time to really give this marriage a chance, she thought before turning off the voice inside her that kept whispering dire warnings. “Blake,” she said when their kisses seemed to have stretched into eternity.

  “Yeah?”

  “Take me to bed.”

  Without missing a beat, he stood, maneuvering them through the furniture into his bedroom.

  “So, you and Blake have worked out your differences?” Rosemary asked the next morning, carrying the tray of food Lana had ordered from the kitchen.

  “Couldn’t help but bring me the order?” Lana asked. She fought the urge to touch her hair or straighten her jacket. Why did she feel like a naughty teenager—Blake was her husband.

  “I didn’t get a chance to razz you this morning. Convenient that you keep a spare change of clothes and emergency makeup at work so you didn’t have to come home.” Rosemary’s grin was cocky as she set the tray on the desk, then sat in the chair across from Lana.

  “So you know, I keep a spare set of clothes because I had someone spill coffee on one of my outfits in Chicago. Going home to change there was far less convenient, so I’ve always kept a spare since. And why am I justifying my actions to you? No one cares that Sage moved in with her husband.” Lana felt flustered and wrong footed.

  “So you’re living with him now?” Rosemary picked a piece of fruit off the tray and popped it in her mouth, ignoring the fact that it was Lana’s breakfast.

  “I... don’t know what we are.”

  Blake showed up in the doorway. “Sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing. Rosemary’s voice carries.” He skirted around the desk and leaned on the edge of it, bringing his face within a foot of Lana’s. “Just to clarify, honey, would you move in with me so we can give this a real try?”

  Lana felt her face flush, but she smiled. “I’d like that.”

  He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her mouth, then backed up. “Great. I’ll go with you to pick up some things at the end of the day.” Then he returned to his office.

  “Oh my!” Rosemary wiggled her eyebrows. “I guess that answers that question.” She stood and closed the door. “So how do you feel about it?”

  Lana played with a pen and considered the question. “Excited, scared, and really, really happy. I’ve really missed him, even more than I thought I would.”

  Rosemary’s grin relaxed. “I’m happy for you, and I really hope things work out for you and he doesn’t turn out to be like Dad.” She ended the phrase with a furrow between her brows. “I love him, but I just can’t understand what pushed him.” It was clear she was now speaking of their father.

  Lana pressed her lips together. “Yeah. I haven’t been able to figure it out, either. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reconcile his actions with everything else I knew about him. I wish I had a chance to talk to my mom again, find out why she stayed with him.”

  “Well, whatever we finally decide about Dad, I wish you and Blake every good thing. You deserve it, and so does junior there.” She looked at Lana’s stomach, which was barely showing. Rosemary’s face was wistful.

  “Thanks.” Lana wished she knew what bothered Rosemary, and could make her happy too. There was obviously something that haunted her past, but Rosemary refused to answer questions when the sisters tried to pry.

  Blake’s first clue that something was wrong at the hotel was the high-pitched scream coming from the floor above him. His second was the radio crackling a minute later with the request that someone call 911. Someone had been attacked, and may be dead.

  He and Lana hit the hall side by side and took the stairs at a run.

  It turned out the scream had come from an older female guest who had opened her door to check for a waiter—who was running late. She found the young man who had been charged with delivering her brunch lying on the floor of the hallway, the tray of pancakes and eggs spread across the ground, and an authentic-looking tomahawk sticking out of his back.

  The amount of blood soaking into the carpets made it pretty clear the kid was dead.

  Blake’s stomach turned over, so he wasn’t too surprised when Lana ran into the open door of the closest room and hurled in their toilet. He stood in shock for a couple of seconds before his brain clicked and he checked to see if anyone had dialed 911. When Joel radioed back that he had and was on his way to them, Blake instructed the man from engineering who sat against the wall looking green, to stay there, afraid he’d pass out if he stood. He checked for the non-existent pulse on the victim, then took the woman aside to calm her blathering.

  Joel arrived moments later, the other security man on duty right behind him, and directed everything from the body to the hysterical guest to blocking off the rest of the hall. Thankfully there were only a couple of other rooms that were occupied at the time, and the guests had apparently already gone out for the day.

  Lana came out of the room, wiping her mouth and still looking sick. “I thought I was supposed to be past all of that.”

  “It was enough to turn my stomach,” Blake soothed, putting an arm around her and leading her to the edge of the hall. “Go down and direct emergency workers up here, will you? Then keep people away. No doubt we’re going to have reporters here within the hour. The local paper may be on their way here already.”

  Lana set back her shoulders and nodded, though her eyes still looked a little unfocused. “I can handle them.”

  “Good.” He kissed her forehead, reveling in the fact that she let him and hadn’t checked first to see who else was around.

  She strode away and he turned back to the gruesome scene in front of him. His mind clicked into list mode, unable to process the horror of the blood pooling around the boy’s chest, or the look of surprise on his face. This was somebody’s kid, and he wasn’t going home. Blake was glad the police would handle that and he wouldn’t have to, but the backlash in the press was going to make this even more nightmarish than it already was.

  Lana sent the police and ambulance crews up to the correct hallway, fielded—or rather avoided—questions from curious guests, and prepared the front desk for a mass check-out—because no matter how they played this, people were going to leave. As an afterthought, she sent Alex a quick text telling him there had been a murder and that he better get PR into spin mode or whatever because the ceiling was about to fall on their heads.

  When Alanna Jenkins walked into the foyer a few minutes later, Lana was not surprised. “Hello, I’m here for the Chronicle,” Alanna stated.

  “Of course you are,” Lana said. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can say at this time, however. We’re still waiting for word from the police.”

  Alanna glanced around at the employees’ tight faces. “Word hasn’t gotten out to the guests yet?” she asked, her voice low.

  “We haven’t made any announcements yet. But they’ll know soon.” Too soon.

  Studying Lana, the reporter tucked her recorder into her back pocket. “Looks like things have moved past the realm of rumor.”

  Lana touched her stomach, which was still pretty queasy, and let out a low
breath. “Yeah. Look, there’s really nothing I can tell you right now. And if I did, PR would kill me.” She let herself smile slightly. “If I promise to send you an email with the statement as soon as it’s drafted, would that be okay?”

  Alanna’s brows lifted. “Yeah, because I love having the television news scoop me.”

  “It was worth a try. We’re going to ask all media to stay back, though,” Lana paused to consider, deciding the fact that Alanna had kept conjectures about the pregnancy test to herself was worth currying a little good will. “How about if I get you a hot chocolate or cappuccino to sip on while you wait out there in the cold?” While Alanna was far from the biggest reporter she would have to worry about, the local news mattered to the community.

  “If I gotta leave, hot chocolate is a nice little balm to my pride.”

  Lana got her a drink at the café, then directed the concierge and bell boy to create a roped line that the media needed to stay behind. She then taxed them with keeping other reporters out of the building. All other entrances were either controlled via keycard or the doors were locked. She was grateful they didn’t have any big events scheduled that day—it was going to be hectic enough as it was.

  “Is it true?” Nola asked. She was a concierge who had been filched from the Four Seasons and had probably never dreamed she’d be so close to murder. “Is it Leon?”

  Lana nodded. “I’m assuming if he were going to make it, the EMTs would already have loaded him in the ambulance.”

  As if in answer, the uniformed crew exited the elevator with their gear—and no patient. Lana swallowed hard and wiped her mouth. Wishing Cami hadn’t taken the day off, she huddled with the bell hops, concierge, and valet staff. “Just emergency personnel and guests only through the doors. And be prepared for anything.”

  Things at the hotel turned a little chaotic as guests left, and others arrived to check in, only to hear the rumors and cancel, demanding a full refund.

  All remaining guests, what few there were left, were shifted to other wings of the hotel and more security was brought in from an outside company to monitor everything. This incident was going to cost them, that was for sure.