Her hand trembling, she set her wineglass aside and slid down the couch toward him. She gripped his forearm, digging her fingers into his muscles. “I’m sick of hidden agendas and deception and feeling like there’s a storm about to break that I have no control over.” She tightened her grip, shaking his arm. “How can I move forward without fear if I’m worried there’s a reason to be looking over my shoulder or questioning everything I’ve put my faith in?”
He lowered his chin, his eyes closed. “Hugh Barrington isn’t your father.”
She froze, replaying his words in her head as if to reassure herself she’d heard him correctly. “What are you saying? Of course he—”
“No. He’s not.” Finally he raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were soft and full of concern...along with a brutal honesty. “Not biologically, anyway.”
Her spine stiffened as she processed his assertion. “If you’re implying that my mother cheated on—”
“No!” he said quickly, wrapping his hand around hers where it still clutched his arm. “You were adopted, Pen. I found the legal papers when we searched Hugh’s office.”
She blinked, stunned. Adopted?
“I thought maybe you knew, but—”
“No...” she whispered, still digesting the revelation, trying to refocus the camera of her memory through this new lens. Her heart drubbed a slow, strong beat as if staggering under this new weight.
He scrunched his face into a wince of regret. “I’m sorry if I—”
“No.” She repeated the sentiment with a vigorous shake of her head. “If it’s true, then I have the right to know. My parents should have told me. I...” She paused to inhale and release a ragged breath, still mentally stumbling. “Adopted? It explains a lot about my father’s distance and lack of connection to me, but...my mother—”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Reid raked his free hand through his hair as he leaned his head against the back of the couch.
“Yes, you should have. I’m glad you told me. It’s just...” She blew out a puff of breath, overwhelmed. “A lot to process.”
“Which is my point.”
He pulled his arm from her grip and speared his fingers under the curtain of auburn hair at her nape. His long fingers began massaging the knotted muscles of her neck, and she instantly felt a heady rush of warmth loosen the tension inside her. Reid Colton’s magic caress was more relaxing than any hot bath, more intoxicating than the finest wine.
“You didn’t need anything else worrying you right now. It could have kept until this mess with your father was settled and you were able to go home.”
“Except that he isn’t really my father...” She was still testing the concept and examining it from all sides. “And that makes me feel...strangely relieved.”
And a bit grief stricken. Her real mother hadn’t wanted her. She’d been given away...
He canted his head to one side, lifting an eyebrow as he studied her. “I can see feeling relief concerning Hugh. But I’m sure it raises a lot of questions. Maybe opens old wounds? I hate to think I was the cause of any new pain for you.”
She leaned against the sofa, rolling her head to the side, then forward, giving him better access to her achy neck and coiled muscles. “I asked. And you’re not to blame for the secrets my parents kept from me. Or my awful relationship with my father.” She closed her eyes as a pang shot to her heart. “But I’m disappointed my mother never said anything.”
“Maybe she’d planned to, before she got sick. Telling your kid they’re adopted when, ‘oh, by the way, I’m also sick and dying,’ would have been a lot for a kid of...what? Twelve?”
“Thirteen. Possibly the most awkward age for a girl.” She sighed and put her head on his shoulder, lifting her feet to the sofa and snuggling against him. “I see your point.”
“Besides, I’m betting your mother was the one behind the adoption. She chose you. She wanted you.”
The air snagged in her lungs, and she struggled to draw a new breath. His reassurance arrowed to her core, cracked the vise of grief and loosened the stranglehold of hurt on her soul.
“She loved you, even if your father proved—”
“An ass?”
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her closer. “I was going to say a disappointment, but... I like your word better.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head.
She relaxed against him, savoring the connection. His presence took the edge off of what could have been devastating news, had she learned it under other circumstances. Knowing she’d been adopted cast so much of her childhood in a new light, whether it should or not. She reflected on some key moments, searching for clues she may have missed. The feeling that returned over and again as she thought of her younger years was isolation. And not just from her father. Maybe she’d had a second sense that she didn’t belong all along...
“You know, until I met Andrew, I always felt so alone in the world. I know my mother tried to help me make friends, but I never really fit in at all those cotillions and social clubs and society teas.” She furrowed her brow in deeper thought. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always had a soft spot for animals. They made me feel wanted, needed. I had something in common with those homeless animals and never knew it. I’d been a stray, adopted by my family...”
“Pen, keep in mind that your mother wanted you. You don’t know why your birth mother gave you up, but you were given a home with the Barringtons because your mother wanted you.”
The rumble of his baritone voice and the vibration of his chest beneath her ear as he spoke his affirmation were comforting. The assurance he offered touched a raw, aching part of her heart.
She nodded, still analyzing her past. “I hope you’re right. But the truth is, I think I sensed something. I know I felt alone more often than not. And when Andrew died, I was right back at square one, all by myself.”
“No,” he argued, his tone full of passion, “you’re not alone. For one thing, you have Nicholas.”
“That’s not the same. I’m his mother, and while it helps to have somebody to share my life with and take care of, he can’t replace the companionship, the bond I had with Andrew. The friendship.”
Reid grunted as if he couldn’t stand to hear the truth. “You have friends. I know you do. Neighbors that we cooked out with and church members...and—” He exhaled a puff of breath, his hand tightening on her shoulder. “You have me.”
She could hear the increased thumping of his heart beneath her ear, could feel the heavy beat against her cheek.
Though his offer touched her, it niggled, as well. “Why?”
He scoffed. “What do you mean, why?”
“What does it sound like? I want to know why you’re here, why you’re taking care of me and offering to help me.”
“Because...we’re friends.”
“Are we?” She didn’t want blanket statements of support or friendship made out of pity. She hadn’t talked about her lonely childhood to gain his sympathy. If she were to accept Reid as a constant in her life, as a rock of strength she could depend on, she needed to know his offer was genuine and not born of guilt.
“I... Yeah. I think so. Don’t you?”
“Then this isn’t some kind of a guilt trip over Andrew? I mean, we were never close before I married Andrew, so why now? What’s changed?” She pushed away from him, angling her body so she could face him and see his expression. “I appreciate that you’re here now, that you’ve done so much to help me these past few weeks, but...what about later? A year from now? Ten years?”
She looked deep into the blue stare that met hers, knowing if she looked into his eyes she would see the truth.
And what she saw was his hesitation, his own conflict and uncertainty.
“I don’t have a crystal ball, Pen. I can�
�t say what will happen ten years from now.”
Her heart sank, and she pushed to her feet, blinking back the sting of tears. “Thank you,” she said, “for being honest.”
She left him sitting on the couch as she’d found him—alone and staring into near space with a frown clouding his countenance.
Although she was disappointed, perhaps even a little heartbroken, at least she knew where she stood with Reid. His answer was the reality check she needed to help her rein in her feelings, which had taken a dangerous detour she could now correct. Reid Colton was still Reid Colton—an ultra-rich, well-meaning playboy who could never give her the kind of lifelong love and commitment she needed. No matter how much she wanted him.
Chapter 15
“Excuse me, Mr. Barrington,” Hugh’s secretary said via his desk intercom a few days later, “Fowler Colton to see you.”
Fowler Colton?
Hugh grimaced, a gut reflex, conditioned over the past several years of his dealing with Eldridge’s oldest son. He drummed his fingers on his desk, trying to come up with an excuse not to see the president of Colton Inc.
If a smarmier, more contemptible bastard ever existed... Hugh stopped himself midthought. He actually could name a few people in league with Fowler. Eldridge was up there. And if he were honest, his business associates and clients might say he himself was a pretty wretched bastard—if they knew the truth about him. Which he’d gone to great lengths to prevent.
A sharp, painful tightness gripped his chest when he thought of the contract he’d put out on Penelope and Reid Colton. He didn’t want to get rid of his daughter. But he had to protect his self-interests at all costs. His schemes and behind-the-scenes machinations couldn’t be discovered. If he were sent to prison, he’d—
“Mr. Barrington? Shall I send in Mr. Colton?” Ethyl repeated, interrupting his thoughts.
With a mental groan, he replied, “Tell him I—”
His office door burst open, and Fowler Colton boldly strode in. “Tell me yourself, Hugh. My family has been your best client for years. I won’t be put off like some two-bit car accident injury complainant.”
Hugh shot to his feet, straightening his tie and plastering on his most ingratiating smile. “Of course, Fowler. I was going to say, ‘Tell him to come right in.’”
Acid churned in his gut, not only from the prospect of dealing with Fowler, but also from the wearisome act of kowtowing to the high-and-mighty Coltons after all his efforts of recent months to put them in their place. He waved a hand toward one of two wingback chairs that faced his desk at angles. After offering his unwanted guest both coffee and whiskey, and having both declined, Hugh asked, “What can I do for you?”
Fowler doffed his trademark Stetson and set it on one chair before unbuttoning his suit coat and taking a seat in the second. “Well, it’s pretty simple, Hugh.”
Hugh gritted his teeth, irritated by being addressed so casually by someone young enough to be his son. What ever happened to good old-fashioned Texas manners? Even as a precocious, uppity child, Fowler had lacked respect for his elders and called most adults by their first name. Because he’d always been taller than his age group and had cold, pale, calculating eyes, Fowler had gotten away with more than most children, even those of the Colton brood.
“In light of the terms of Eldridge’s will, which left you a controlling share in Colton Inc., we need to make sure we are on the same page. And while that burned body proved not to be Eldridge, one day we will have to bury Eldridge, and knowing his last wishes in his will leaves me with a choice. Comply with Father’s wishes or make waves.” Fowler pressed his mouth into a frown. “I’m here to express my willingness to work with you for the best interests of the company.”
Hugh worked to mask his surprise. Controlling share of Colton Inc. The family had bought his lie? Hugh’s heart rate accelerated, and he gripped the arms of his chair to keep from fidgeting and giving himself away. He cleared the nervous thickness from his throat and said, “Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation and support. I know how difficult the past few months have been for the family.”
“Do you?” Fowler asked, arching one thick brown eyebrow. His pale blue eyes seemed especially cunning. Or was that just a trick of light? Or Hugh’s guilty conscience?
He chose to ignore Fowler’s challenge. “I look forward to putting the troublesome days behind us and moving forward together. There is no reason Colton Inc., under our joint leadership, cannot continue to thrive and be a profitable company for many years to come.”
Fowler’s expression said he wasn’t happy about losing control of his family business, but Hugh hadn’t expected anything else. “You do understand, though, that until we can confirm Eldridge’s death or have the court declare him to be presumed dead, the will is not yet in effect.”
Hugh fell silent, wary, and waited for Fowler’s next move. For several tense beats, neither man spoke or moved. They eyed each other like dogs jockeying over one bone.
“Hugh,” Fowler said at last, “I won’t lie. The prospect of losing control over the company my father spent the better part of his life building from the ground up was a major blow to me. I considered fighting you over it.” He curled up a corner of his mouth in a sly grin. “Literally. I imagined more than once dragging you into a back alley and beating you until you signed a release returning the company to our family.”
Hugh forced a chuckle, but it sounded stiff even to his ears. His palms grew damp, but he didn’t want to show Fowler his effect on him by wiping them dry.
“But...” the repugnant Colton upstart continued, “in the end, if Eldridge wanted you to have controlling interest in the company, he had to have a good reason. He didn’t build Colton Inc. into the empire it is today without having a keen business sense and always doing what was best for the company.”
Hugh nodded heartily. “True. Very true. Your father was a great businessman.”
“And because you’ve been right beside him through the years, guiding him and protecting his assets, I know the company means something to you, as well. I know he respected you and your opinions.”
Hugh would have relished the flattery, if Fowler didn’t look constipated as he spoke. The SOB was clearly about to choke on the words. Hugh had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the gloating grin that twitched his lips from blossoming to full flower. The old coot had trusted him, and Hugh had known just how to use that to his advantage.
“So...” Fowler drew a deep breath and turned up one palm. “In order to smooth the eventual transition, I will accept his wishes, and I suggest we begin bringing you up to speed on the projects and deals in the pipeline. The longer Eldridge is missing, the more I tend to believe he must be dead. The will may be on hold now, but knowing what will come, we should proceed accordingly. In the best interest of the company.” He sat forward and offered his hand. “Partners?”
Now Hugh had no choice but to quickly swipe his hand on his pants leg before gripping Fowler’s for a firm shake. “You got it. I look forward to our alliance.” His turn to almost choke on his words. Though he was still skeptical he had Fowler’s full confidence and support, the eldest Colton progeny had skillfully hidden any secret agenda.
Or was he just paranoid that his deception would still be discovered? If that ever happened, Fowler would unleash his famous temper...and put Hugh under the jail.
Jail. Hugh suppressed a shudder. He’d die before he let that happen.
* * *
One night at the beginning of Pen’s third week of living at the lake house under Reid’s protection, Nicholas was acting especially cranky and resisting bedtime. Reid could hear the whining toddler at the other end of the house, and he pitied Pen for her trying task of getting the boy to sleep.
Reid was almost finished cleaning up the kitchen when Penelope stalked in, raking her hair back
from her face. Sounds of Nicholas’s discontent were still echoing down the hall from the bedroom.
“Where are the keys to my car?” Pen asked, fatigue and frustration heavy in her tone.
“Why?”
Her expression darkened. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to answer a question with a question?”
“Like you just did?” he replied with a smirk.
“Reid, I’m in no mood.”
Knowing better than to tease her any further when she was feeling frazzled, he opened the drawer where he’d stashed the keys and dangled them on his finger.
She reached for the key ring, and he closed his fingers around the fob and drew his hand back. “If you need something out of the Explorer, I’ll get it. Just tell me what I’m looking for.”
She extended her hand farther toward him. “I need the car. I’m going for a drive.”
He gave a humorless chortle. “No, you’re not.”
“Reid!” Her face tensed. “You can’t keep me here like a prisoner!”
“You’re running away? Leaving Nicholas because he won’t stop crying?”
“Don’t be obtuse.” She tilted her head slightly and paused a beat as if struggling for patience. “I’m taking Nicholas for a drive. Driving him around is the only way to get him to fall asleep when he gets wound up like this.” She thrust her hand at him again. “Keys. Please.”
He rubbed his thumb over the ridge of bumpy metal and considered her request. “The only way? What about...warm milk or a back rub or...”
“Over the years, I’ve tried all of it. Driving him around works the best.” When he gave her a skeptical look, she added, “Lots of parents do it. Don’t judge me! Where’s the harm?”
He grunted. “Fine. But you’re not taking the Explorer. It’s too recognizable. And you’re not going alone. I’ll drive.”
“Reid, you don’t have to—”
“I do. I promised to protect you, and I can hardly do that if you’re out on the road alone while I sit around here like a bump on a log.”
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