The Right Bride: Book Three: The Hunted Series

by Jennifer Ryan

  Cameron looked surprised. “How did he run the tests?”

  “He took a swab from Emma and stole your hairbrush on one of your overnight visits.”

  “Knight had a man use a funny swab to tickle the inside of my cheek. It was a secret, but I guess everyone knows now,” she said to Marti.

  “I guess they do,” she replied.

  “Let’s continue. Let’s see, fifty percent to Cameron, oh yes, here we are. Cameron, you will also receive the sum of fifty million dollars.”

  Shelly gasped and covered her mouth.

  Stunned, Cameron tried to wrap his head around everything. “Why would he do this?” He’d left Cameron more than he’d left his other two children. Why?

  “The money is in other stocks, bonds, cash, and assets. In addition, you are to receive one half interest in this home and property. I’m told George already spoke to you of the promise you were to make about the house.”

  Cameron nodded his agreement.

  “Good. Miss Emma Shaw, you are to receive a share in the sum of fifty million dollars. Upon your eighteenth and twenty-first birthdays, you will receive portions of your share. The number of children Cameron produces will determine the shares. I understand there is one child on the way. At this time, Emma would receive half. If Cameron fathers another child, the shares will be split three ways, and so on.” He glanced at Marti, though she kept her face blank.

  “This can’t be. The bulk of the estate goes to Cameron and his children.” Walter’s face turned red with outrage.

  Claire remained silent, a soft content smile on her face. Cameron hadn’t spent a lot of time with her growing up, but he assumed the ten million plus what the shares were worth would last her through her lifetime and then some. She seemed happy to take what George left her and let Walter rant about the rest. Cameron remembered this same dynamic from when they were kids playing together. Walter always had to have his way and Claire let him.

  Cameron was floored. He’d left it all to him and his children.

  “Marti, you made a promise to George,” the attorney continued.

  “Yes. Well, one promise and I told him I’d try on several other things.”

  The lawyer smiled. “You don’t make promises lightly.”

  “Nope,” she answered, ready to get this whole thing over and done.

  “George left the contents of the house to you. You may wish to designate items to whomever you choose, such as Walter and Claire, if there are items of sentimental value to them. George indicated they took most of what they wanted when they moved out years ago. He told me to remind you the contents of the safe belong to you. Since you changed the combination with him, you are the only one who has access to the contents.”

  Marti sat stunned. The safe. George had her change the combination and memorize it because his mind was failing him and he didn’t want to have the safe destroyed after his death in order to get it open. She hadn’t bought the story, not really. All he had to do was provide the safe combo to his lawyer. Now she knew. He wanted her to have what was in the safe. He knew she’d do the right thing. She thought of a particular story George had told her. She set Emma on her feet and stood.

  “If you’ll all excuse me a moment. George would like something from the safe given now.” Marti left and overheard Walter protesting and calling her names. Cameron warned him in no uncertain terms to watch his mouth; there was a child in the room. Shelly told Cameron she couldn’t believe they’d gotten fifty million dollars.

  She came back into the room several minutes later carrying a large velvet box. Emma sat on Cameron’s lap holding onto his arm. She kneeled in front of the little girl and showed her the box.

  “When George asked me to do your room upstairs, he told me it was my job to remind you every chance I can that you are his princess. You will always be his princess. I know now he didn’t want me to just remind you with the room, but to make sure you always feel like a princess. What’s in this box holds a very special memory for you and I. I cherish this memory we share. I will take it with me wherever I go.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I know you don’t, Sugar Bug.” She leaned up and kissed the girl. Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes. Leaving this child would be the hardest thing she ever did.

  “Knight gave this to his wife on their twentieth wedding anniversary with a note telling her he wished for twenty more. He and his wife were married for forty years. He got his wish. He told me he believes this is special. I think he would have wanted you to have it. You, his one and only granddaughter, his princess.” She opened the box and showed Emma the diamond and ruby necklace Marti had crowned her with for their milkshake tea party.

  Shelly gasped when she saw the necklace. The rubies were the size of grapes and clusters of diamonds surrounded them. It was a necklace fit for a queen, and probably cost a king’s ransom.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Shelly said and leaned forward to get a better look.

  “This is yours, Emma. Every time you wear it, I want you to remember you are a princess and your grandfather was a Knight.”

  “You can’t just give away my mother’s jewelry. It belongs to me and Claire.”

  “Walter, your father left the contents of the house and safe to her. She can do with them as she pleases. Your father had faith in her to do the right thing. If there’s something you want, ask her.”

  “I want the contents of the safe,” he demanded.

  Marti closed the box and kissed Emma. She took the box and held it to her chest.

  “Can we have another tea party?”

  “Soon, I promise,” Marti said and stood.

  “You mean it when you promise, so I know we’ll have our tea party.”

  Marti smiled at the little girl. “You know me so well.”

  She turned on Walter. “As for you, Walter, you don’t know me at all. I’ll forget the name-calling and the outbursts, but don’t push me. I’d just as soon burn the contents of this house than hand them over to you just because your last name is Knight and you think you’re entitled. Your father spent weeks telling me stories about everything in this house, particularly the contents of the safe. At the time, I thought it was just a dying man reliving his life by telling stories to a friend who would listen. They were wonderful stories, and I will remember them always. I will remember your father and his wishes. If you want something from the house, let me know, and I’ll decide if it’s what George would have wanted.”

  “You’ll decide. You. Who the hell are you?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? You’d be surprised. For the purposes of George’s estate, I’m the person he trusted to see to his last wishes. I’m the person he trusted to keep their word. I told him I’d try. Don’t push me. I don’t like to go back on my word. If you make me, I’ll be really angry.”

  “Let’s finish the will,” the lawyer interrupted before Walter continued with his tirade. He removed two envelopes from his briefcase.

  “George knew you very well, Marti. He left these for you. He said one would make you laugh and the other will make you angry. He said to tell you not to be angry, he wanted you to have it, so take it and deal with it.” He smiled at her. “Those were his words,” he laughed. “He knew you wanted your privacy, so the contents are for you only.”

  He handed the envelopes over and she opened the first, immediately angered by the contents. She read the note inside and said, “Dammit, George. I love you too.” She closed the envelope containing a check for twenty million dollars.

  She opened the other envelope and looked inside. Several bills and two quarters were tucked inside. She pulled out the money, crushed it in her hand, and held it to her chest while she laughed and cried.

  “What the hell did he leave you?” Shelly asked, her eyes locked on the bills crushed in her hand. Let her think it was all George left her. While Marti was thrilled with her winnings, Shelly was salivating, could barely sit still in her chair since she’d learned of C
ameron’s inheritance.

  “It’s not your business, but fifty-seven dollars and fifty cents,” she said and continued laughing.

  “Why are you laughing? Surprised he didn’t leave you millions?” Walter looked smug.

  “It’s the money your father owed me from our poker game.”

  She wiped her eyes and stood to leave. She assumed they were done. The lawyer asked her to sit again.

  “There’s something else, Marti. You made a promise to George.”

  “The thing he doesn’t want me to sell? I won’t sell the contents of the house.”

  “That wasn’t what he didn’t want you to sell.”

  Cameron looked at the lawyer. “He didn’t.”

  The lawyer smiled. He’d expected this. “He did. Marti, your promise was the same as Cameron’s. You own one half ownership in the house and property. Neither of you can sell your half to anyone else, or to each other. Your half will be passed down to your firstborn child and to his. Emma, in his case.”

  “No,” she said, disbelieving. “He never said it was the house. I can’t own the house with Cameron.”

  “You do. As of today, you two own this house together and will leave it to Emma and your child upon your death.”

  “George, no. You can’t do this to me.”

  “He told me to tell you, it is his last request. Your grandmother gave you the world. He’s giving you a home.”

  “No.” She stood and ran out the French door and out into the garden. The rain poured down and covered the tears running down her face.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  * * *

  CAMERON FOUND HER on a flat bench in a hidden part of the garden. She sat alone, face tilted up to view the dark clouds as the rain pelted her face and body. Beautiful in her black dress, her arms stretched out behind her, supporting her as she gazed up at the sky. Hard and throbbing, he scanned her body, outlined by the wet dress.

  He walked over to her, ignoring the rain, focused on Marti. Her grief so palpable, he felt it to his own soul.

  He came to her, picked her up, and sat her on his lap and held her. Just held her to him with his arms locked tightly around her.

  She lay against him and accepted his comfort. “How could he do this to me?”

  “I don’t know what he was thinking. He didn’t tell me you were the other owner. It’s a big house. We’ll work it out.”

  “He asked me to try, but he never told me about this. How am I going to try when he makes it impossible?” She cried harder.

  Cameron held her tighter. He couldn’t stand to see her so upset. He kissed her hair and the flowery scent filled his senses. He kissed her temple and her cheek and tasted her tears and the rain. He couldn’t stop himself. He wanted her so bad, and she was in his arms. He wanted to take away her pain and show her nothing but pleasure. Touching her, being with her like this, felt so good, so right. He didn’t want to feel this sadness and grief anymore. He only wanted the desire, passion, closeness, love, only she made him feel.

  He took her mouth and kissed her. When she opened her mouth to him, welcomed him in, he lost all conscious thought to reality. He lost himself in her. He didn’t notice the rain or remember Emma was inside the house with Shelly. He kissed Marti and pushed his tongue into her mouth and slid it over hers, savoring her taste and texture. Something inside him tilted back to right and he felt lighter, unburdened.

  He lay her down on the wide bench and held her and kissed her. He kissed her neck and her hands moved under his suit jacket and over his back.

  She held him to her, and he kissed her neck and down the V of her dress to her cleavage. The tips of his fingers explored the exposed flesh.

  He undid the buttons down the front of her dress, and each new patch of skin he uncovered, he laid a trail of kisses. He spread the dress wide to her sides and looked down at her tanned skin and the black lace bra and panties covering what he wanted most right now. Rain pelted her skin and made it glisten. So beautiful. He leaned over her and kissed the swell of her breasts. They seemed larger, fuller. They spilled over the top of her bra, and he licked and traced the line of lace. She gasped and dug her fingers into his wet hair. He undid the front clasp and pushed the barrier out of his way. Her nipples were hard, beckoning his mouth. He took one breast in his hand and the other in his mouth and she arched off the bench and offered herself to him with a soft sigh.

  She moaned his name and loved the feel of his tongue on her nipple and the soft pull as he sucked. She covered his hand on her other breast and squeezed. Her breasts were swollen and extremely sensitive with the pregnancy. The more Cameron kissed and sucked the more heat spread through her system.

  One of his strong hands moved down her stomach and traced the outside of her hip before returning to her lace panties. He pulled them down her legs, tossed them to the sodden ground, before his hand came back to her heated center. Without warning, he thrust his finger deep inside her. She exploded and pressed her hips up to his cupped hand. His mouth devoured her breast. Relentless, he suckled her breast and used his finger to drive her back up the crest. Each time she came close to release, he slowed down and took her back up. His thumb found the bundle of nerves vibrating to life and rubbed over the slick sensitive flesh, sparking another wave of heat to wash over her. She moaned and pulled his hair, holding his head to her breast, begging for more.

  Her release building, he undid his pants and came down on top of her, his mouth taking her in a devouring kiss. He used his legs to spread her thighs wide and thrust into her hard and fast to the hilt. He had to have her, all of her. He buried himself deep, felt her heat surround him. Tight, hot, wet, she fit him so perfectly.

  She burned for him. The rain poured down on them, but all she felt was his warmth and fire. The flames spread out from her center where she was joined with Cameron and burned and consumed. She pressed her hips up to him as he came down on her again and again.

  Completely lost in her, he kissed her cheek, her ear and neck, and took her mouth with his and smoothed his tongue over hers to the pace of their hips moving together. She tightened around him, and he gave himself over to her. She shattered in his arms with a soft cry and moan. He surrendered his own release and spilled himself into her fire.

  When his mind cleared and his brain started thinking of things other than possessing her, he gazed down at her. Eyes closed, the rain came down and drop-by-drop slid over her beautiful face. Her hands rested on his chest as he held himself above her on his elbows.

  “Oh, God. What the hell am I doing?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. He couldn’t believe he’d made love to her. He wanted her all day, every day, but he’d made a commitment to Shelly. What the hell was he doing?

  He hadn’t even taken off his clothes. He’d opened her dress, tore off her panties, unzipped his pants and taken her right there in the garden on a bench. It was pouring rain, for God’s sake. Her silky, soft skin puckered with goose bumps. She shivered with the cold. The rain soaked her, and her skin glistened in the moonlight. She was beautiful and he was an idiot.

  You are a supreme jackass. You love her. Why do you treat her so badly?

  He got off her and redid his pants. He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook out the wet material uselessly. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  Marti sat up and pulled her dress closed to cover herself. He didn’t know what to say, how to explain or say how sorry he was for doing this to her, so he went with mundane details. “I promised Knight I would move into the house the day after his death. We’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “You will?” Surprised and happy, she smiled. He and Emma would be moving into the house. They’d all be together.

  Tell him. Tell him you’re pregnant. Now is your chance.

  “Yeah. George told me we have the east wing and you have the west wing. Since the other spare room in the east wing isn’t furnished, Shelly will stay in the west wing until the wedding. I hope that’s okay. We’ll hold the
wedding here on Saturday.”

  Shocked, the smile died on her face and everything inside her froze. He just made love to her and he was talking about moving in with Emma and Shelly and marrying her here at the house. She’d almost told him the truth.

  One minute he made her feel like the most precious gift in the world and the next he made her feel like the biggest idiot ever born.

  “Wait. You’re moving in with Shelly. You’re getting married here—on Saturday.”

  “Yes.”

  She dropped her hands to her sides. Her dress fell open down the front unnoticed. She gripped the edge of the bench and held tight, because if she didn’t, she’d explode into a million tiny pieces of pain. “You just made love to me. You grabbed me and practically ripped off my clothes to have me. We shared something beautiful, powerful, and wonderful, and you’re telling me you’re still marrying her.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d put that hurt look on her face again.

  “The last time you made love to me, you turned your back on me and chose her. Now you make love to me again and you still choose her. I love you, Cameron. Doesn’t it mean anything to you?” she yelled over the rain.

  “It means everything to me,” he yelled back.

  “No, it doesn’t because time and again you choose her over me.”

  “I have to give my family what I think they need, a father and a mother.”

  “You have other options. George has shown you, you have other options. I love Emma. I’d be the very best mother I can to her.”

  “This is what I want,” he said angrily.

  The blow from those words sent her back a step, knocked her on her mental ass. She stood and faced him determinedly. “I’ll be gone before the end of the week.”

  “You don’t have to leave. This is your home. It’s what George wanted you to have.”

  “I told him I’d try. I’d try for Emma. I said I would stay here and watch over her for two months. I won’t be here and watch you marry that lying, gold-digging bitch. I won’t stay here and watch you make the second biggest mistake of your life. I’ll come back and watch over Emma like George wanted, but you make it so damn hard for me to keep my word. I’d rather you take a knife and stab me in the back, it would hurt a lot less than you shredding my heart every time I see you.” She turned to walk away.