by Shandi Boyes
My heart aches for little Jeremiah. He's caught in a battle he doesn’t belong in, but my anger on his behalf isn’t directed at Isaac. It’s wholly directed at Theresa. She's his mother, his blood. She should be sheltering him from matters like this, not using him as a pawn to force a man to interreact with her.
“I was a witness in Theresa’s incompetency hearing, but only on the agreement that my testimony was sealed. I didn’t want my personal information readily available to anyone who has access to a computer. They were lenient on Theresa at my request because she was pregnant with Jeremiah. I had her sign a non-disclosure agreement that she could not discuss anything pertaining to Jeremiah’s paternity case or the hearing on the agreement she resigned from her position. If I'd known she could join the FBI, I would’ve stipulated harsher terms to our agreement.”
“So she doesn’t know you’re sterile?”
“No, my testimony was done in private. Other than you, Regan, Jae, and Avery, no one else is aware.” His jaw muscles spasm. “Well, no one else was aware.” Air escapes his flaring nostrils. “Ryan informed me this morning that Alex is aware of Theresa’s claims.” The tick in his jaw amplifies. “There's only one way Alex could have found out that information.”
I try to suffocate the look of guilt on my face, but Isaac is too perceptive to miss it. His lips straighten as he glares into my eyes. “You know about Regan and Alex?”
I lick my dry lips, hoping some moisture will ease out my next set of words. “I witnessed an exchange between them a few weeks ago. It was obvious they knew each other… personally.”
He stares at me, waiting for further explanation. He knows I'm holding back information because he has eyes that can see through to my soul.
“Regan said something about Alex using her for his own benefit. It was when we were discussing the discovery of Theresa having my phone tapped. Now, knowing about the paternity claims, it kind of makes sense why she was removed from your case, and Alex was assigned to her team.”
Isaac’s face reddens with anger. “So Regan broke lawyer/client confidentiality to help her boyfriend secure a more lucrative position. A position that was to investigate the man she solely works for.”
“I don’t believe Regan purposely set out to deceive you, Isaac. The instant she knew Alex was here investigating you, she cut all ties. She hadn’t seen him since that day.”
“That doesn’t make her any less guilty of betraying my trust.”
I cup his cheek. His anger is so paramount, the blood blazing through his veins warms my hand. “She couldn’t help who she fell in love with any more than me falling in love with you. You can’t help who you love. Don’t punish her for opening her heart. Mistakes happen all the time. You’ve made mistakes. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Regan made a mistake, and she's living with the repercussions of her error every day.”
He remains quiet, silently contemplating. I try to get him over the fence.
“Regan cares deeply for Alex, but she gave him up because her loyalty to you was stronger. She's already suffering living without him. Don’t punish her more.”
Warmth blooms in my chest when he nods, agreeing with my statement. The energy in the room turns from somber to electrifying when he stares dotingly into my eyes. The spark of attraction has always been dominant between us, but there's something greater that tethers us together. It’s an intimate string that’s becoming sturdier with every moment we spend together. I didn’t think my love for him could grow any stronger, but it astonishes me every day with how much it continues to bloom.
The ringing of the doorbell interrupts our emotion-packed stare-down. I try to hold in my excitement, but my anticipation at meeting Isaac’s family is too great for me to contain.
“Only you would be excited about meeting the in-laws,” Isaac mocks while assisting me down from the counter.
After lacing his fingers through mine, he walks us to the foyer. The thrashing of my heart increases with every step I take. I'm equally excited and nervous about meeting his family.
The first thing my gaze zooms in on is the tiny little baby nestled in the arms of the young lady I’ve only seen in surveillance photos. Jenni has gorgeous strawberry blonde hair, perfect facial features, and light blue eyes. She greets me with a massive smile stretched across her face.
“Isabelle, this is my brother, Nick, my dad, Harrison, my sister-in-law, Jenni. and my nephew, Jasper,” Isaac introduces, his voice lowering when he introduced Jasper.
Now, I understand where Isaac gets his remarkable good looks. His dad is gorgeous. Even though he’s at least twenty years my senior, my cheeks heat when my eyes roam over his handsome face.
After accepting a handshake from Nick and a hug from Harrison, I offer to take their coats. Once they’re stored in the coatroom, we enter the informal dining room at the side of the kitchen. Jenni hands a sleeping Jasper to Isaac before coming to help me in the kitchen. My heart melts when Isaac nuzzles him in close to his chest before placing a kiss on the top of his head.
“You may not get Jasper back now,” I tease Jenni, my tone playful.
She grins a beaming white smile. “He really loves Jasper like he's his own son.”
“Yeah, he does.” And now I understand why. Isaac will never experience having his own children, so he’ll cherish his nephews and nieces even more.
Jenni assists in placing the baked goodies into baskets before gathering the juice from the fridge and the coffee from the percolator. “Did you bake these?”
When she gestures her head to the blueberry muffins and apricot danishes, I grimace.
“It’s okay, I’m still learning how to cook. Let me just say, it’s lucky we have smoke alarms installed, or we may not have had a house to live in.”
I laugh before sharing the story of when I set the toaster on fire. Even though she’s a few years younger than me, she has a great personality and is extremely friendly.
Once all the items are out for brunch, I take a seat across from Isaac. My cheeks inflame when my eyes dart between the three men sitting across from me.
Jenni laughs at my wide eyes before filling the seat next to me. “Don’t stare too long or your eyes will get burned.”
“It’s so odd Nick and Isaac are brothers. It’s like looking at night and day.”
Nick has wavy blond hair, Isaac’s is brown and straight. Nick has pasty white skin, Isaac has gorgeous tan skin. Nick is a little on the small side with an athletic runner’s build, whereas Isaac’s body is well-formed and over six feet tall, but they're brothers without a doubt as Nick was created in a test tube to save Isaac’s life. This just proves you can’t judge paternity by similarities.
When Jenni giggles at my comment, Isaac’s eyes lift to us. His stern glare has my pulse racing. Jenni’s response is on the opposite end of the spectrum. When she catches his gaze, her cheeks turn the color of a beetroot, and she looks like she was informed she has to go to the principal’s office.
I nudge her with my elbow. “Don’t stare too long or your eyes will get burned.”
Brunch was a raving success with every scrumptious goodie baked by Harlow devoured with numerous servings of coffee and bucket loads of conversation. Jenni and I are in the kitchen swapping contact information while the boys play pool in the den. Jasper is fast asleep in his stroller as adorable as ever.
“What’s your Facebook name under?” Jenni queries, her brow scrunching. “I looked up both Isabelle Brahn and Izzy Brahn, but neither were coming up.”
I place the empty cardboard boxes from Harlow’s bakery into the bin before spinning around to face her. “I don’t have Facebook.”
She stares at me like I have two heads. “How do you not have Facebook?”
I shrug. “My uncle wasn’t computer savvy. He relied more on notes to keep a record of his case files, so I never got into the whole Facebook, Twitter, dating sites craze.”
Jenni thrusts her hand out, palm side up. “Give me your phone, I’ll hook you
up.”
Smiling, I dig out the brand new iPhone Isaac gifted me this morning.
Within five minutes, my Facebook profile is set up—hideous profile picture and all. I grin when I glance down at the screen to discover I have one friend, Jenni. Over the next fifteen minutes, she gives me a rundown on how everything works, including sending friend requests, writing updates on my wall, and private messaging. By the time she finishes explaining everything, I feel like an elderly lady instead of the twenty-five-year-old woman I am.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” she assures upon spotting my mortified expression.
Several hours later, long after Jenni, Nick, Jasper, and Harrison have left, I'm scrolling through my Facebook wall. I now have four friends—Jenni, Hugo, Harlow, and Brandon.
“How come you haven’t accepted my friend request?”
Isaac stops strolling into the living area to peer up at me. “Because I have a marketing person who looks after all my social media sites.”
“Well, tell him or her to accept my friend request.” I crawl across the couch and snuggle into his side. “I can’t add a relationship status without someone to tag it with.”
“Yes, you can.” He removes the phone from my hand, fumbles his fingers over the screen, then hands it back to me. “See?”
My mouth gapes, not just because he’s tech-savvy, but because of the relationship status he put down. “We’re not married.”
“Yet,” he retorts with a smug look on his face.
I rib him with my elbow before scrolling down my wall of updates with him peering over my shoulder like a creeper not cool enough to have a social media account—pretty much me three hours ago.
“Who’s the blonde with Brandon?” Isaac asks a short time later.
I crank my neck back to peer at him. “That’s Melody, Brandon’s high school sweetheart.”
His lips purse before he takes another sip of his wine he returned from the kitchen with. He looks smugger now than he did when he switched my relationship status to married.
After awarding him a frisky wink, I continue scrolling. A lot of my ‘updates’ are old news since I don’t have many friends.
Not even five seconds later, my heart stops beating at the exact moment Isaac stiffens. I swallow harshly, eradicating a large lump in my throat before re-cranking my neck. Isaac’s jaw is set in a straight line, and he’s staring out into the distance.
My pulse rings in my ears as I lower my eyes back to my phone. A girl in a picture with Jenni is the spitting image of Ophelia in every way—same rich, brown hair with honeycomb highlights, tanned skin, light brown nearly translucent eyes. She even has the same turned-up nose.
Tears burn my eyes as panic plagues me. I can’t compete with Ophelia as a ghost, much less if she’s alive.
“She isn’t Ophelia,” Isaac informs me, his tone grim and flat.
Abruptly, he stands and walks out of the living room. After brushing away rogue tears on my cheeks, I take off after him. I find him ten minutes later in the master suite peering out an arched window. A glass of whiskey is in his hand, and his posture alludes to his anguish.
My hesitant steps toward him halt when he mutters, “I know she isn’t Ophelia because I made sure of it.” Pain stabs my chest when he spins around to face me. His eyes are dark as memories from his past haunt him. “Her name is Emily. She's Jenni’s best friend. When I first met her, I was just like you, convinced she was Ophelia. Her face, her eyes… identical.”
My heart shreds to pieces from the hurt in his eyes. I'd give anything for Ophelia to be alive, not just because Isaac loved her, but so the guilt of her death could stop eating him alive.
“Emily is only twenty, which means she was eighteen when we met, almost the same age Ophelia was when we began dating, so, understandably, I was mistaken. But when I look at Emily, all I see is Ophelia, even knowing she isn’t her.”
“That’s understandable, Isaac. Their similarities are uncanny.”
After scrubbing his hand over his jaw, he downs his whiskey with one gulp. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows the burning liquid with ease.
“I had her investigated.” He chuckles a painful laugh. “Even knowing Ophelia was dead for years, I had Emily tailed for months, denying anyone’s advice she wasn’t her. I did things… stupid, foolish things to create barriers for her and her partner to force them apart.”
I remain quiet, unsure of what to say to ease his guilt.
“I truly believed she was her, or I wouldn’t have done it.”
I nod while taking a step toward him. Isaac isn’t a monster. He cares deeply for his family and friends, so I’m confident he’d never intentionally hurt anyone.
I pad closer to him. “And now?”
His brows furrow, seemingly confused.
“Do you realize now that Emily isn’t Ophelia?”
His gaze snaps back to the window. Seconds feel like hours as uncomfortable silence plagues the room. The pain in my chest intensifies from his passive silence. My heart bleeds for him. His pain is so intense, it suffocates the air of oxygen.
Even feeling like my heart is being stabbed with a knife, I want to comfort him, to erase his pain, to make him forget, so I pull my sweater over my head before sliding my jeans and panties down my thighs.
His breath hitches when I drop to my knees, but he stops my nervous fumble of his zipper by seizing my wrist. “No, Isabelle.” His shaky voice reveals his levelheadedness is faltering.
“I’ll wash it all away, Isaac. I’ll take away your pain.” I raise my eyes to his. “Please let me help you.”
My heart thrashes against my ribs when he cups my cheek so his thumb can run over the cupid’s bow of my top lip. Then I can barely breathe when he drops his whiskey glass on the floor so he can undo the button on his jeans and slide down the zipper. When his jeans slip down to his thighs, in a hurry, I release his thickening cock from his boxer briefs, not only eager to taste him but to ease his hurt.
Just as I'm about to lash my tongue against his silky-smooth crest, he plucks me from the ground, spins me around, then impales me from behind. My knees buckle as my hands shoot out to brace against the arched window. My body is unprepared but delighted to accept his impressively girthed cock.
With one of his hands grasping my hip, the other slithers up my body to grip my neck. A husky breath escapes my lips, incredibly aroused by his dominant hold. The pumps of his cock are hard and furious, having me toppling into climax within a matter of minutes.
As I slowly return from a cloudy lust haze, Isaac reduces the pace of his pumps before releasing my neck from his firm hold. After sliding his hand down my sweat-slicked body, he tweaks my nipple into a hardened peak. Because the sun is setting in the distance, I catch parts of our reflection in the window, along with a pair of devoted, lust-filled gray eyes.
“See the world out there, Isabelle?”
I take in the glistening skyline of Ravenshoe. It’s a spectacular sight, but it has nothing on the reflection of Isaac making love to me in the window.
“I’m going to give it to you. Everything I have, I’m going to give to you. You gave me your heart, now I’ll give you the world.”
Chapter 23
Isaac
“I can’t do this, Isaac. Not just as your lawyer but as your friend.”
Regan folds her arms in front of her chest, taking on a reinforced pose. Her face is her regular don’t-take-shit-from-no-one look, but her eyes are concealing her anxiety.
“I don’t pay for your opinions. I pay you to do what I ask you to do.”
“This could be financial suicide for you.” She braces her hip on the desk in my home office. “If you get divorced, you'll be decimated. Izzy will get everything.”
“That’s the point! Everything I have, I want her to have.”
Regan rolls her eyes. “You're smarter than this, Isaac. This won’t tie her to you. It won’t stop her from leaving you. Heck, it may even encourage her to
leave, considering she’ll end up filthy rich and—”
Any further statement is halted when I shoot her a furious glare.
She exhales sharply before shimmying her shoulders. Once all her negative energy has been expelled, she drops her glistening eyes to mine. “A prenup is supposed to be a contract that protects your assets. It’s not designed as a bribery tool.”
I stand from my chair with my fists clenched at my side. Blood is roaring through my veins so fast, steam nearly billows out of my ears. “I’m not bribing Isabelle to stay with me.”
“Then what do you call this?” She throws the prenup I asked her to draw up onto my desk.
“It’s called showing Isabelle what she means to me.” My voice is hoarse as my anger waivers. “She’s been to hell and back because of me, yet, she still stands by my side.”
When I made love to Isabelle in front of the town I once wanted to dominate, I realized I'd give it all away in an instant for her. Everything I have, everything I achieved, meant nothing when she kneeled in front of me to offer me comfort me when I was haunted by my past. I’ve shared so many horrid things with her the past several months, yet she still looks at me with nothing but admiration and devotion in her eyes. She understands my remorse for what happened to Ophelia, but she doesn’t add to my guilt or wish I'd forget. She gets me.
She completes me.
I may not be able to articulate to her what she means to me, but I can show her. That’s why I had Regan draw up this prenuptial agreement. The agreement states if Isabelle remains married to me for five years, she gets everything I had coming into the marriage. This will make me sound conceited, but that is millions upon millions of dollars—way more than even Isabelle realizes.
