by KyAnn Waters
Trent stopped beside her and before she realized his intent, went down on one knee and kissed her. He lingered but two heartbeats, enough to send her heart into a wild rhythm. When they parted, she reached up and wiped away the smidge of gloss her lips left on his mouth. From the corner of her eye she saw James’ satisfied smile.
“Has my grandson been treating you well?” he asked as Trent rose.
She nodded. “He allowed me to work in his office.”
James’ brows rose. “That is an honor. Even I’m not allowed in there when he’s deep in work.”
“That’s because you need to rest.” Trent sat in the chair on the other side of the small table to James’ left.
James hmphed, but Cassie could see he was pleased.
“Get up, lass,” he said. “Trent, get her a chair.”
Trent jumped to his feet. “Sit here, Cassie. I’ll get another chair.” He stepped forward and extended a hand. She was forced to accept and he pulled her to her feet. She sat in the chair he’d vacated and he carried a chair from the corner and placed it beside hers.
They fell into easy conversation, but after forty minutes she discerned the furrow in James’ brow. He was growing tired. Cassie wondered if she should suggest they leave when Annie entered.
“Sorry, everyone, but it’s time James got some rest.”
James shot her a narrow-eyed look.
Trent rose. “Any arguments from you, Granddad, and I won’t let Cassie visit with you again in the evenings.”
James’ head snapped in his direction. For an instant, Cassie feared the old man would argue, but he sighed and nodded. “Aye, no arguments. Truth is, I’m a bit tired. What do you two have planned for the evening?”
“I’m taking my wife on a date.”
“Date?”
Trent nodded. “We’ve spent far too little time together.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You have pushed yourself harder than usual this last month,” James said. “Cassie will put a stop to that.”
Trent grinned. “That she will.”
“Visiting hours are over, everyone,” Annie said.
Cassie stood. “Sleep well.”
He grasped her hand. “You can call me Grandfather, lass.”
She smiled. “Grandfather.”
“You two have a lovely evening,” he said.
“Will you be okay without us for a few hours?” Cassie asked.
“Trent has spent too many nights home on my account. You’re newlyweds. It’ll do me good knowing you’re spending time together. And I won’t be alone.” He sent a dark look Annie’s way. “That woman won’t let me be for a moment.”
Annie braced her hands on her hips. “Be nice or there will be no reading tonight.”
“See how mean she is?” he said to Cassie.
Cassie laughed. “She loves you the same as we do. You listen to her and I’ll share your blood pudding next Sunday.”
He laughed. “Done.”
Trent rested his hand on her shoulder. “Ready?”
She nodded and kissed James on the cheek.
“See you in the morning,” he said, and she realized he wouldn’t see her in the morning. Should she tell him? Trent hadn’t mentioned the fact she was leaving. Her heart dropped into her stomach and ricocheted back into her throat. What if James didn’t make it till Sunday? She fought unexpected tears. This could be the last time she saw him. Cassie started when Trent’s arm slipped around her waist.
“You get a good night’s rest, Granddad.”
Before she could say anything, Trent urged her out the door. After a few paces, she said, “Shouldn’t we have told him about my trip?”
“He is liable to badger you into staying. If you want to feel guilty, then go back in there and tell him.”
Guilt. She didn’t need more of it. God, she hadn’t thought this through when she agreed to marry Trent.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. They reached Trent’s bedroom. He opened the door and allowed her to enter first. “I have to go,” she said more to herself than him. “But if anything happens to him while I’m gone, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“He’s right, you know,” Trent said.
“Right about what?”
“It does do him good to know we’re a happy couple, living our lives as we should. If he left this world tonight, he would go believing we were happy.”
Was Trent happy? Cassie shook off the thought.
“Is half an hour enough time for you to get ready?” he asked.
Ready for their date. She nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
He stepped out of the room and Cassie went to the closet. She flipped through the few items hanging in the closet, her mind on James. How old had Trent said he was, seventy-four? Still fairly young by today’s standards, and his mind was sharp. Cassie pulled the Lycra skirt and sweater she’d planned for their wedding from their hangers, then went to the bed and sat down.
She began stripping off her slacks. James’ illness was all so unfair. Both men were more concerned about how the situation affected the other than they were about themselves. Trent would be hurting once James was gone. He loved his grandfather so much that he’d risked marriage to a woman he didn’t know just to make him happy. Cassie paused while folding her slacks. How many men would do that? He loved deeply, more deeply than she’d realized. Perhaps more deeply than she understood. Would he love a woman as deeply? How could he not? Tears pricked again, this time falling before she could stop them. It was wrong that James wouldn’t be around to see Trent marry a woman he truly loved, and to see the birth of their child. A real family, that’s what Trent and James deserved.
Cassie released a stuttered sigh and swiped at her eyes. She had to pull herself together. The last thing Trent needed was to find his rented wife crying. He had enough weighing him down. She put on the skirt and blouse, then pulled her hair back into a bun at the nape of her neck and freshened her makeup. Her reflection stared back. Not terrible. A spritz of perfume and a smear of lip gloss completed her preparations.
A knock sounded at the door. The man had impeccable timing.
“Come in,” she called from the bathroom. The door clicked open and Cassie gave her lip gloss another smoothing around the edges, then went into the bedroom. She stopped short at sight of Trent standing near the bed.
Sporting the current fashion of a fit suit, he wore black slacks, a dark gray shirt and a black silk tie. He could have walked off the cover of a fashion magazine. Her heart raced. Sure, he was her husband and he was attractive and charming as hell, but he also was temporary. The knowledge didn’t stop a tingle of anticipation.
“You look great,” he said.
She shrugged. “It was the best I could do, considering….”
“It’s perfect.”
They stared at one another for two heartbeats before Cassie said, “Let me get my purse.” She grabbed the small clutch sitting on the bureau and hurried to his side.
They went downstairs to the entrance that opened into the courtyard.
Henry waited in the foyer with their coats. “The car is ready.”
Trent nodded at him. “Thank you, Henry.”
Trent took Cassie’s jacket from Henry. “Is this the only coat you brought?” She nodded and he frowned, but held it out for her. “We’ll get you a warmer one when you return.”
“Okay,” she said, and slipped her arms into the sleeves.
Stepping outside, a bite of cold wind stung her cheek. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in a wash of grays, blues and ambers. She was a bit surprised when Trent opened the front passenger door of a black Range Rover. She’d assumed they’d be driven by Henry. She slipped inside and when her bottom hit the soft leather seat she was in heaven. Heated seats—of course—and warm air blew from the vents.
Trent strode around the front of the SUV, opened the driver’s door and got in behind the wheel.
“I could live in this car,” she sai
d.
He laughed and shifted into drive. “It’s the heated seats, isn’t it? They’re a deal breaker in this cold country.” He navigated along the winding drive, down the hill and out onto the main road.
Cassie folded her hands in her lap and watched out the window. In the distance, the lights of Vail twinkled in the dusky night. “I hadn’t thought I’d have the chance to see some of Vail. My schedule wasn’t going to afford me the time.” She smiled in his direction. The lights of the dash shadowed the angular cut of his jaw and cheekbones.
Trent took a left. “When you return on Sunday, we’ll go into town.”
“I’d like that.” But then where was he taking her tonight?
A few minutes later, Trent drove past the Eagle County Airport sign.
“The airport?”
Trent smiled as he drove through the facility to general aviation. A helicopter came into view up ahead near a small hanger.
Cassie whipped her gaze onto Trent. “Trent…what’s going on?”
He brought the Range Rover to a halt twenty feet from the helicopter, left the engine running, and got out of the car. A man emerged from the helicopter as Trent hurried around to her side of the car. He opened the door and held her hand as she got out of the vehicle.
Trent closed the door. “Our ride.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?” He led her across the tarmac to the waiting pilot.
“Mr. Weston.” The pilot looked at Cassie. “Ma’am. Beautiful night for a flight.”
“Liam.” Trent nodded and helped Cassie into the helicopter.
As they took their seats and buckled in, the pilot waved to another gentleman who took possession of the SUV and drove away. A moment later, Liam sat in front of them, strapped into his restraints and powered up the helicopter. The whirl of the blades vibrated through the cabin.
“Prepare for lift off,” he said.
Cassie swallowed hard and tensed. Trent slipped his right palm beneath her left and laced their fingers.
“I’ve never been on a helicopter,” she said.
“I think you’ll love it,” he said.
They ascended higher. Her stomach swooped when they banked right, then propelled forward.
Trent pointed toward his window. “Brettonwood.”
Cassie had to lean into him to look out his window. Light from the setting sun reflected off patches of snow on the mountainside. Light illuminated the windows of the castle. “Wow,” she breathed. “I’d always thought Miami was the most beautiful place in the world. But I can see Brettonwood is every bit as magical.” She leaned back into her seat and smiled. “If it weren’t so cold, I’d say you have Miami beat.”
After a few minutes, Cassie began to enjoy the flight. The speed of the rotors became a rhythmic hum. As they cut through the sky, the horizon darkened to blend with the darkness below them. She became intimately aware of their entwined fingers, and the rings on her finger, the gold band that said she belonged to him—worked for him.
Finally, as if breaking through a sea of black, a valley opened up and a million multi-colored lights twinkled beneath them.
“Denver,” he whispered.
The helicopter skimmed over the city’s outskirts, headed for the skyscrapers buildings of downtown.
“We’re cleared for landing,” Liam said.
Cassie peered through the window as the pilot maneuvered over the city, finally hovering over one of the mammoth buildings, and set down on the lighted helipad.
The pilot powered down the helicopter and a moment later Trent’s door opened. He stepped down then helped her from the cabin.
Even if she stood upright, the slowly rotating rotors wouldn’t have touched her head, but she still felt inclined to hunch over until they cleared the blades. A sharp whip of cold wind cut through her jacket. Trent pulled her into his warmth until they reached the safety of the building. He led her to an elevator located to the left.
Trent pressed the elevator button and the doors dinged opened a moment later. They descended one floor to the rooftop restaurant.
“Mr. Weston,” the maître d’ approached. “Your table is ready. May I take your coats?”
Trent assisted Cassie with her coat, handed it to the man, then slipped off his coat and gave it to him. The maître d’ then handed both coats to a young woman who waited at a respectful distance.
“Your table is this way.”
Trent rested his hand on her lower back as the maître d’ escorted them through the restaurant. As an event planner, Cassie had been in some beautiful restaurants and hotels, but nothing compared to being thirty-five stories up, surrounded by glass and overlooking the Mile-High City with live piano music softly playing. Candlelight made each linen-draped table feel secluded and private. Artwork graced the walls and lush green palms created the illusion of sectioned off areas.
The maître d’ halted at a private table overlooking the mountains to the west. “Our best,” he said. “Jaxon will be your waiter tonight.”
Trent held the chair for Cassie.
“A wine list.” The maître d’ set the wine list next to Trent, then held the chair for him as Trent sat down.
Trent handed back the wine menu. “Gaja Barbaresco.”
“Of course, the 2007?”
“Perfect.”
The maître d’ excused himself.
Cassie stared across the city at the unobstructed view of the mountains. “You must come here often.” They knew his name and seemed to know he’d demand the best. And he’d just ordered an expensive wine, raspberry notes and highly coveted.
He leaned forward and smiled. “A few times.”
“It’s lovely.”
***
But not as lovely as her. She was strong yet, at the same time, made him feel strong, protective, and damn, he’d never felt more desirable.
Jaxon arrived with the wine and their menus. Trent had dined here a few times, but tonight his intention was to impress Cassie, to show her he wasn’t just the asshole who had fired her and then manipulated her into a fake marriage.
Once they’d ordered and the wine was poured, Trent said, “Tell me about your family.”
She sipped her wine then set the glass aside. “Typical family, I suppose. Well, if you’re Catholic. I have two sisters and four brothers—and never mind the cousins and nieces and nephews.” She laughed. “Mom and Dad have been married thirty-five years.” She took another drink of wine and Trent’s gaze snagged on her lips.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Nothing like your family,” he said. “A few distant relatives. Aside from Granddad, no one I’m close to.”
“No one?” she asked.
“I’m close with Tomas and I’ve known Celina since seventh grade.”
Their salads arrived and he waited until the waiter left and they’d begun eating their salads before asking, “So where do you fall into the family mix?” He wanted her to continue talking so he could watch her lips shape the words.
“In the middle. My oldest brother Danny is a veterinarian. He’s married, has kids. Well, technically I’m the only one who doesn’t have kids.” She chuckled. “My youngest brother, Bobby, Robert actually, married a woman a few years older. He doesn’t have any children of his own, but he’s raising her twin girls. They are adorable. Almost four, blond hair, and they chatter incessantly. When it’s Auntie Cassie’s turn to baby-sit, I make sure to have plenty to keep them busy.” She talked about all her siblings, growing animated as she mimicked her sisters.
Trent took another bite of salad. “Your house must be crazy during holidays.”
She nodded while she chewed. “Crazy in a good way. I can’t imagine not having a big family.”
“You’re lucky,” he said.
Jaxon removed their salad plates and their entrees arrived seconds later. The waiter placed the salmon fillet and steamed fresh vegetables in front of Cassie and served Trent the Beef Wellington and sav
ory garlic potatoes.
“I am lucky,” she said, and finished her wine. Trent refilled her glass as she continued. “But my family is far from well-off. We knew if we wanted to go to college, scholarships and student loans were the only way that was going to happen. I guess that’s why I work so hard for Daley Enterprises. I want something of my own.” She took a bite of salmon. “Oh my, this is amazing. You should try it.”
Trent paused while cutting his meat and looked at her. She smiled, innocent, sweet and without reservation. He set down his knife, extended his fork across the small, intimate table and stabbed a flakey morsel of salmon.
She watched while he ate the fish, then said, “Isn’t it fantastic?”
“Delicious,” he agreed. Trent sliced his beef, stabbed a portion, and lifted it toward her mouth, inviting her to take the sample from his fork.
She curled her fingers around his hand and guided the fork to her mouth. Her lips closed over the morsel and he pulled the fork from her mouth. Heat surged through his groin and his heartbeat spiked as he hungered for more than a good meal.
“Oh my God,” she said. “No wonder Gordon Ramsay makes Beef Wellington a signature dish.”
Her remark reminded him that this was just dinner. “You’ve dined at one of his restaurants?”
She laughed. “No, I watch reality television. A weakness of mine. That and puppies. Since I don’t have time for a pet, I give in to my other vice.” She smiled. “So Mr. Weston, what are your secret vices?”
“You mean like hard liquor and fast women?” He stared at her over the rim of his glass.
“Marriage is going to cramp your playboy lifestyle.”
“Playboy lifestyle.” He shook his head. “I’ve spent my life trying to make my grandfather proud.” He twirled the wine in his glass. “Now I’ve waited too long.”
“Waited too long for what?”
For someone like her. For someone to make his house a home, to give meaning to the wealth and the success. Brettonwood was built for family, for generations to leave their stories within its walls. He’d neglected everything but business.
“I guess we all have regrets,” he said.
“But you can’t let them define you. We all make choices that in hindsight we wish had been handled differently. You have to know how proud your grandfather is of you. I’ve only been with you a few days and I can see how deep his devotion is to you and yours is to him. That’s what family is supposed to be. What you have is special.” She glanced into her lap. When she lifted her gaze, moisture glistened in her eyes. “I’m just so sorry you’re going to lose him.”
