by Nina Lane
But Hannah was only in town for a few more months. And she was such a beauty with her long brown hair and blue-green eyes, not to mention her fiery, willing response to him… he ached to see her trembling naked beneath him, to hear her breathy little cries in his ear. Hell, he’d wanted to strip off her pants the other night and fuck her right up against the door, her mouth locked to his and her body shuddering around him.
Women had always been a constant in his life, but he couldn’t remember ever having this sharp and intense a pull toward one as he did with Hannah. She had an intriguing mixture of innocence and experience. And she was adorable as hell—when she smiled at him, when whipped cream streaked her face, when her eyes widened with shock. He had to see her again.
That alone was a warning signal. One Evan wanted to ignore. In affairs and relationships, he controlled his heart. Not the other way around. He’d learned that as a teenager when rumors of his defective heart had spread and girls started calling him Heartbreaker— a nickname that had stuck and made him realize he had a degree of power over the often baffling female species. He’d liked finally getting attention for something more than his health.
By college, Evan had discovered he could have sex with any woman he wanted—whether she was attracted to him or his air of tragedy made no difference. And though heart issues could impair one’s sexuality, for him it had always been the opposite. Sex was the one thing he could control. He’d learned quickly what women liked, how they responded, what would bring them pleasure.
They flocked to him for numerous reasons—because of his family’s wealth, or because they had a caretaker complex, and often just because they liked him. Rarely had a woman been turned off because of his heart, though he didn’t let them in too far. Despite his sexual confidence, he disliked the idea of any woman—especially one he cared for—having to endure the uncertainty of being with a heartbreaker. Which was why his affairs and relationships didn’t last long.
They were good, though. Hot. He liked taking a woman to the edge, seeing how far she’d go. To prove that he was no less a man just because he’d been born with a broken heart.
He pulled in a breath and came to a slow walk as he approached his bungalow on a private stretch of beach bordering Indigo Bay.
He took a tepid shower, trying to stop thinking about Hannah, and then got ready for work. His phone rang, and he picked it up from the nightstand. His aunt Julia’s number showed on the screen. If anything would kill his lustful thoughts, a call from his very fashionable and sharp-tongued aunt was it.
He lifted the phone to his ear. “Julia, what a surprise.”
“Why didn’t you tell your father about your doctor’s appointment?” she asked.
Evan sighed. “It was just my annual.”
“You still should have told him. I asked him yesterday what tests you had done, and he said he hadn’t even known you had an appointment.”
“Yeah, he left a message giving me shit.”
“No wonder. Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Because I think he was going on a date. I didn’t want him to worry all weekend about the test results.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
“I beg your pardon?” Julia said. “Warren went on a date?”
“I think so. He went out with a woman, at least. Saturday night. I figured that was progress.”
“What woman? Where did they go?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if he had,” Julia replied crisply.
“It’s why he wasn’t at the auction. He told me he was heading up to San Francisco for a Santana concert. When I asked him if he was going alone, he said no, but he didn’t give me any details. Then later he asked me about reservations for the Skyline restaurant, which is a total date joint.”
“So who do you think he went with?”
“No idea.”
“Are you sure it was a date?”
“No, but I think he took the Bentley. And I’m pretty sure he wasn’t making reservations at the Skyline for him and his poker buddies.”
“Well,” Julia remarked. “I’ll be damned.”
His aunt’s bafflement didn’t surprise Evan. Since Rebecca Stone’s death almost twelve years ago, his father had been laser-sharp focused on his family and Sugar Rush. Just like Luke had been.
Family and business had always been Warren’s excuse for not getting back out on the dating scene. After Warren had lost his high-school sweetheart, Evan suspected his father’s pain would never fully heal.
“He deserved to have a good time,” he said. “I’d planned to tell him about the appointment when I got into work, but thanks to you he already knows.”
“Which is why you should have told him first. He needs to hear these things from you, not me.”
“And neither one of you should make a big deal out of it.” Irritation cut through his voice. He’d spent his childhood being watched over like a hawk, but when he’d turned eighteen he’d finally thought college would give him autonomy over both his life and his health.
In some ways it had—at least he’d been on his own, and the World of Women had opened up in front of him like a paradise—but after the car accident that killed his mother and left his sister badly injured, the Stones closed ranks like a fortress. Evan’s health had taken on a heightened significance after the tragedy, especially with Aunt Julia.
His mother’s younger sister, Julia had stepped in as the family matriarch in spite of her own grief. Both his aunt and his father would turn the world back on its axis to prevent anything bad from happening to any one of the seven Stone siblings. It was the same reason Luke hadn’t wanted Evan to direct Sugar Rush’s Fair Trade Foundation, which had been Evan’s idea. Overprotectiveness ran in the Stones’ blood as powerfully as a love for candy-making did.
“I’ve gotta go.” Evan shrugged into his suit jacket. “I’ll call you later.”
“See that you do.”
After grabbing his briefcase, Evan headed out to his SUV. Ten minutes later, he pulled into the employee lot of the Sugar Rush headquarters, a sprawling campus of red brick buildings perched on a grassy hillside above Indigo Bay.
Even with his brother Luke’s overhaul and expansion of the company eleven years ago, the culture hadn’t changed. Sugar Rush was still a family-owned, synergetic company with a reputation for creativity and employee support. People who came to work at Sugar Rush tended to stay because of the supportive working environment, upward mobility, and excellent salaries and benefits.
In Luke’s absence, Evan had taken over the CEO duties—a job he’d wanted to both prove he could do it and pave the way for him to take on a higher-level position at the company, one that would allow him to implement his own agenda on corporate responsibility. His brothers all had different roles at Sugar Rush, but even at thirty-one Evan still hadn’t found his place.
He greeted the receptionist and walked to his office, where he checked in with project managers and reviewed the latest report for Alpine Chocolates, a Swiss company Sugar Rush was in the process of acquiring.
Despite his insistence on handling Sugar Rush business alone, there were times when Evan was tempted to call Luke for advice or to ask his opinion. After leaving for Paris three months ago, his brother had been—rather to Evan’s surprise—hands-off about Sugar Rush business.
Occasionally Luke asked how things were going, but he hadn’t butted in with orders or even advice. Instead he was doing what he’d promised to do, which was leave the company in Evan’s hands and take a full leave of absence devoid of all things Sugar Rush.
Evan hadn’t been entirely convinced his dedicated, workaholic brother could actually do that, but so far Luke had proven him wrong. And while Evan trusted himself and the other Sugar Rush executives to make the right decisions for the company, this was the first time in his life that he didn’t have his older brother to turn to.
A knock sounded at the door, and A
dam entered. At twenty-eight, he was the second youngest Stone brother and the most global—though he did occasional work for Sugar Rush, his true calling was in the small adventure travel company he’d started a few years ago.
Adam stopped in front of Evan’s desk and slapped a piece of paper in front of him.
“What’s this?” Evan picked it up.
“Just heard about it. Apparently The Guardian sent a reporter to investigate Sugar Rush’s new Fair Trade Foundation and is collecting evidence that contrary to our claims, we’re sourcing palm oil from an Indonesian company that’s destroying rainforests and orangutan habitats.”
“The Singa Corporation? We cut ties with them a few years ago.”
“Not according to the report,” Adam said. “And since you wrote the foundation’s statement of principles, The Guardian is going to call you for comment.”
Irritation tightened Evan’s neck—not at the idea of a reporter calling him but at the thought that the rumor was true. He’d been the one to come up with the idea of the Sugar Rush Fair Trade Foundation to solidify the company’s commitment to sustainability, as well as ensure fair compensation to their suppliers and help with local infrastructures.
But instead of letting Evan spearhead the project, Luke had turned the directorship over to Vice-President Sam Walker because he’d been concerned about Evan traveling to remote areas of Africa and South America with little or no medical care—a requirement needed to get the foundation off the ground.
Though Evan understood his brother’s concern—even agreed there were some things he just shouldn’t do or risk affecting his health—that didn’t make it any less frustrating to still be treated like “the sick one.”
Hearing that his idea might already be corrupted was even less bearable.
“You want to call Luke?” Adam headed toward the door.
Christ. That was the last thing Evan wanted to do.
“No, I’ll handle it. Thanks.”
Evan turned to the computer and wrote an email to Sam, demanding more details and warning him about The Guardian report. If he couldn’t direct the Fair Trade Foundation, he wished Adam would—but Adam had always resisted full-time involvement with Sugar Rush.
Evan responded to several emails and calls, headed a short board meeting, and reviewed the latest acquisitions information for Alpine Chocolates. At two, he told his assistant Kate to handle all calls, and then he drove back into Indigo Bay. He parked in the lot of the doctor’s office and went inside.
“Hello, Mr. Stone.” The receptionist smiled and typed a few keys on her computer. “I’ve got you checked in. Dr. Peterson will be with you in a moment.”
“Thanks, Alice.” Evan sank into a chair and checked his phone while he waited.
A few minutes later, the nurse led him back to the doctor’s office.
“Come on in, Evan, and have a seat.” Dr. Peterson, who had been treating him since he’d transitioned from pediatric to adult cardiac management, waved him toward a chair in front of the desk.
Evan had been with Dr. Peterson long enough that he could read the doctor’s demeanor before he spoke. As Dr. Peterson walked around to sit at his desk, lines of concern creased his forehead and a solemn glint darkened his eyes—which confirmed what Evan had been thinking all weekend.
Smothering a rush of apprehension, Evan unconsciously rubbed his chest. “So what is it?”
“I have the blood test and echocardiogram results,” Dr. Peterson said. “There’s a problem with your mitral valve, which would explain your increasing headaches and fatigue. We need to replace the valve again.”
Dread pooled in Evan’s stomach. He’d spent most of his childhood hoping he’d be done with medical treatment when he was an adult. Then his doctor had said he’d need ongoing check-ups and management, which had been uneventful for fourteen years. And while Evan had always known he might need further surgeries one day, he sure as hell didn’t want one. Especially not while he was running Sugar Rush.
“When do I need the surgery?” he asked.
“I suggest within the next four or five months,” Dr. Peterson replied. “You’ll be in the hospital for about a week. Considering that you’re in good shape, I’d expect the recovery to be about four weeks. I know you’ll want to get back to work immediately afterward, but I’ll be monitoring you closely.”
He turned the computer toward Evan to show him the digital image of his heart. Evan had seen it countless times before. For him, pictures of his heart were practically part of his family photo album.
He left the doctor’s office, his head crammed with new, unwelcome information. As he got back in the car, his phone rang with a call from Julia. Evan didn’t answer it. He didn’t want to go back to the office. He didn’t want to see his father or aunt. If he told them about the surgery, they’d be worried and upset. They’d try not to interfere, but invariably would because they loved him.
His phone buzzed again. His father, this time. Evan answered.
“How did it go?” Warren asked.
“Fine.” The lie spilled out of him like water. “Tests are all okay.”
“Good. Do you need to see Dr. Kumar?”
“Not anytime soon.”
That was the truth, at least. He’d see his cardiologist when he scheduled the surgery. Four months from now.
Evan skipped over a few more details of the appointment before ending the call. He started the car and drove out of the parking lot.
He knew the sequence of events as if it were a map leading him right back into the past. His father and Julia would pressure him to get the surgery done soon. Luke would find out and come home, even if Evan told him not to. Hailey would drive down from Stanford and probably miss her classes to be here. His father would insist he take time off work, which meant Luke and Warren would take over Sugar Rush along with the other executives.
And Evan would be the sick one again.
He tightened his grip on the wheel. Not this time. He was in control now. He intended to keep it that way.
Chapter
FIVE
Hannah had not done that. She was not a walking cliché—the hired help who’d gotten hot and heavy with the wealthy heir of the manor.
Except that she had. And she was. But now in the clear light of day when all cute talk about whipped cream and liking sex had faded into a memory, Hannah’s anger toward herself mounted. It annoyed her to no end that Evan Stone had gotten under her skin to the point that she’d not only succumbed to his charm, she’d bid for him at a bachelor auction, then let him kiss her in the middle of a damned kitchen when she should have been working.
Hormones or whatever, her body remembered everything—the way Evan had cupped her nape and tilted her head to just the right angle, the firm, insistent pressure of his mouth, the exquisite way he’d deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue over her lower lip as his fingers caressed the ridge of her collarbone.
She’d wanted him to keep going. Worse, she’d wanted to let him take the lead, and she’d wanted to simply follow wherever he planned to go. For a woman who’d been traveling independently for over a decade, it was a decidedly unnerving realization.
With a groan, she rolled out of bed and stumbled to the shower. For two days now, she’d battled the knowledge that she’d both encouraged Evan’s attentions and wanted more of them. She couldn’t even remember if she’d ever felt that way about a man before. She wasn’t the girl who got all weak-kneed and sappy over men. She was the girl who could take them or leave them, who carved her own path, who set the terms of short affairs.
She turned her face up to the hot water, trying to let the spray ease the tension gripping her neck. Not only did she dislike the way Evan had gotten to her, he was a man who thought it was no big deal to drop fifty thousand dollars in less than half an hour. Yes, it was for charity, but it was also fifty thousand dollars. She hadn’t even had five thousand dollars at any one point in time.
Restlessness seethed through her. She
got out of the shower and dressed in loose cotton pants and a T-shirt. She poured a cup of coffee and sat down to check her email. A message from Polly’s friend Mia flashed on the screen—a photograph of her and Evan kissing, along with the words OMG!! Tell me everything now!!
Hannah’s heart plummeted. If Mia knew, then Polly knew. She responded with: Nothing to tell, sorry.
A quick search led to the bachelor auction site, which included dozens of professional photos from the evening, and a local news report about the amount of money raised for the Rebecca Stone Foundation.
She picked up her phone, not bothering to calculate the time difference, and called Polly.
“My my,” her sister answered. “That’s quite a photo.”
“It was a total mistake,” Hannah said quickly. “I didn’t mean to bid on him. It’s a long story, but he’s paying for the bid and taking someone else on the dates.”
“Why aren’t you going?”
“The last thing I want or need is to spend a weekend in Napa and a day on a yacht,” Hannah replied. “Besides, it’s a romantic thing, and I’m not romantic about Evan.”
“That kiss sure looked romantic.”
Hannah was certain she was mistaken. No way was that hope in her sister’s voice.
Or was it? Polly had always wanted Hannah to stay in Rainsville, especially during the past three years as their mother battled leukemia. Though Hannah had returned from her travels, she’d never stayed longer than a couple of weeks—a pathetic fact that had only underscored her cowardice.
Their mother hadn’t minded Hannah’s absence, or at least she hadn’t indicated that she had. Jessie Lockhart had always told Hannah how much she enjoyed her blog, how pleased she was that Hannah was so committed to seeing so much of the world like her father had always wanted to do.
Her mother’s blessing had been one of the reasons Hannah had been able to justify leaving again. Polly had been another. She and Jessie were so close, always working at the bakery, taking trips, watching movies. Neither one of them needed Hannah, not really. And leaving was so much easier than having to watch her mother’s health decline and be unable to do anything about it.
