by Caro LaFever
It seemed like an eternity ago.
Walking briskly so she wouldn’t catch any person’s eye or be looked at for any length of time, she headed for the one place she’d come to see. Not the garish home hovering on top of the nearest ridge, peering over the town like a looming gargoyle—Gareth’s home that had never really been hers. Not the run-down flat she and Elis had grown up in, two children swimming in a sea of disinterest and vague love from their mam.
No, she’d come for one place and one place only.
St. Callwen’s Church lay at the end of high street, its ancient grey stones as sturdy and strong as they’d been for hundreds of years. The old oak door, laced with steel planks, opened when she pushed, and the glorious noise she’d hoped for spilled across her like a benediction.
The mixed choir still practiced on Wednesday nights.
Shutting the door behind her, she stepped to the arch going into the nave and stopped. The familiar strains of Nessun Dorma wrapped around her, bringing her what she’d needed.
Comfort.
She tiptoed to the first pew and sank into its arms. Closing her eyes, she settled her head on the hard, wood back. Finally, because she couldn’t be anywhere more safe and soothing as old St. Callwen, she let the harsh memories and broken dreams and bitter emotions seep into her mind.
A tight well of grief clutched in her throat.
Even weighed down by torment, her heart translated the words of the song rolling around and through her.
No one sleeps, no one sleeps…
In your cold bedroom.
That was so true. It hit her square in the chest. She’d left Castle Ross and Pictloch behind her, driving all day yesterday in a blind panic toward the only place she could think of. When she’d arrived, she checked into the small hotel on the outskirts of Brekelly. The clerk, someone she didn’t recognize, had barely acknowledged her presence before giving her a key.
The bed had been cold. Cold and damp. No warm lover to snuggle into.
The choir’s voices rose, the lyrics ringing in her head.
But my secret is hidden within me.
Ceri lifted her hand brushing tears from her cheeks. The stark horror she’d felt when she’d seen the email missive from the weasel made the clutch in her throat twist until she could hardly breathe.
All her supposed secrets laid bare for Lorne Ross’s consumption. A report ordered by him, organized by his solicitor. A half dozen Brekelly villagers ready and willing to testify to her perfidy. Mr. Sayer ready to state she fooled his good friend, Gareth Llewellyn, into marriage. Her husband’s loyal housekeeper ready to assert the Mrs. had driven her husband to death by her excessive demands. Mr. Pritchard, the solicitor who’d written Gareth’s last will, ready to claim Ceri Olwen was up to her old tricks again.
But my secret is hidden within me.
The secret she’d thought to share with Lorne. Her secret desire to be seen for more than her beauty. The secret hope she was valued for her mind and her guts, her talents and her principles.
Her secret heart.
A cry escaped from her mouth. Luckily, the music soared above it, quenching her sound, soothing her grief, giving her a strange sort of peace. She’d known the instant she saw the email. And yet, she’d known far before that, if she’d been honest with herself. She’d known the choice she’d ultimately have to make.
Castle Ross was Lorne’s.
She, and Elis, were orphans once more.
Well, Ceri, what did you expect? Her mam’s impatient voice came from the past. Did you think you were some magical princess meant to win paradise?
“No, mam,” she whispered to the pew in front of her. “I just thought I could find somewhere that was mine and someone who loved me for me.”
At one point, when her love for Lorne had been fierce and free, she’d contemplated trusting him. Giving him the castle and hoping he’d love her enough to give her dreams back in exchange. Yet as Dilys Olwen had often told her, Ceri shouldn’t think her dreams were ever going to come true.
She’d been stupid to even fight. She should have left right away with her heart intact.
Instead, she’d risked far too much and lost everything.
The choir finished the piece, voices turning from singing to chatting. She watched with blurred eyes as the group shuffled through the sheets of music, looking for the next song.
She’d heard enough, though. She’d been given all she could get here.
Stepping out of the pew, she headed across the foyer and onto the street. The last of the sunlight slid along the stone wall encircling the church and the graveyard. With a sigh, she swung onto the lane she hadn’t walked since she’d been twenty-one and Elis had been six.
The gravestone was simple and neat. Elegant, she’d thought when she’d picked it out.
Kneeling, she brushed sticks and grass from the grey stone, wishing belatedly she’d thought to buy some daisies. Her mam had always loved daisies.
Her mobile buzzed in her jeans pocket. This was probably the hundredth time during the past twenty-four hours. She’d been ignoring it all day, as she’d done nothing but lay on the hotel’s bed and stare at the ceiling. Yet, St. Callwen’s solid presence behind her gave her enough courage to fish the phone out and take a look.
There were a dozen messages. At least. All from Lorne.
She wasn’t surprised, really. The man had her in his bed and clearly loved the sex. Exactly as Gareth had. Thinking logically, as Lorne Ross would, why stop a good thing until he’d won the court case, using her past as a weapon against her? How would he know she’d look at his email, instead of foolishly plugging in searches for a Gaelic phrase that no longer mattered?
Standing, she looked over the stone wall and into the valley where her ancestors had mined for coal, and where Gareth had built his aluminum plant. The building had closed right after his death, leaving many unemployed. A lot of them had blamed her.
Her mobile buzzed once more.
This time it was her brother.
She couldn’t let this call go to voicemail. “Elis.”
“Hey, Sis.” For once, his voice wasn’t filled with disdain and disgruntlement. Instead, his tone was one of complete puzzlement. “What’s going on?”
Straightening, she gazed down at their mother’s grave. She’d thought she’d have more time to figure herself and her future out. And her brother’s. Now that she thought about it, though, why wouldn’t Lorne have alerted Elis? And why would he still be willing to shoulder her brother’s internship when she wasn’t warming his bed? “What has he done?”
“Eh?” Elis said.
A wallow was all fine and well. But she’d indulged herself. She’d forgotten she had a young, seventeen-year-old to protect. Anger at herself filled her and her spine grew rigid. “What has Lorne Ross done to you?”
“To me?” The end of the question twisted into a teenage squeak, reminding her again how young her brother was. “He hasn’t done anything to me. He did call me a few minutes ago, though.”
“Did he.” Her heart went from panicked to cold. “Don’t tell him anything.”
“I don’t have anything to tell. Which is why I’m calling ye.”
A frantic slice of fear ran through her. She didn’t think Lorne Ross was the type to take out his frustration on a kid. But she hadn’t thought he was ruthless enough to line up her past against her in order to win, and she’d been wrong there. Her brother was living in the billionaire’s flat, working at his company, enamored with him to the point of teenage infatuation. A man could do quite a bit of damage to a boy with weapons like that. Her heart thunked in a wild dance in her chest. “Where are you?”
“That’s the question I’m supposed to ask ye.”
“Are you at Gaes?” She pulled her phone away and noted the time. “No, work would be done, right?”
“Ah…right. I’m actually at Lorne’s flat.”
“Is he there?” Striding out of the graveyard, she made for the
hotel at a fast clip.
“No. I assume he’s in Scotland.” Her brother’s voice was filled with confusion. “But he says you’re not there anymore.”
“I’m not.” She picked up her pace, almost running down high street. Her breath went choppy from the churning of her legs and the churning of her heart. “But I’ll be in London by the morning.”
“Why? Where are ye?”
She might not have a lot of money, not compared to a billionaire, yet she had some. And she had her love for her brother. Something Lorne Ross could never understand.
“Ceri?”
“Don’t worry,” she huffed. “I’m coming for you.”
“Coming for me? Why are ye panting? Are ye being chased?”
Perhaps she was. The billionaire might think he could manipulate her brother to get to her. Maybe the billionaire thought he could chase her down and still use her. If he thought that, he hadn’t noticed anything about her at all.
She stopped at the high point of the street.
That was truth, wasn’t it? That was the complete truth.
Lorne Ross had only seen her pretty armor, her seductive sexuality. She’d let him in, way too far, but he hadn’t caught on. He hadn’t realized what she’d truly offered. Her love, her heart, her hopes. Because of that, she was safe. If he knew what she felt, he might be able to use it against her, use it to manipulate her. Yet he didn’t.
That truth was the only thing she had left to hold on to. Still, it was enough.
Chapter 33
Ceri arrived in London far later than she’d wanted. Her engine trouble had stopped her from getting here last night. She’d been forced to stay in a small B&B until this morning, when she’d finally found a mechanic.
Her worry had kept her up all night.
Yet Elis had been cheerful when she’d talked to him early this morning.
“No, Sis,” he’d said. “I’m happy you’re coming to see me.”
She’d frowned into the B&B’s dinky mirror. “Lorne’s not there?”
“I told ye he wasn’t yesterday.”
His tone hadn’t wavered from enthusiastic, so she decided he was telling her the truth. “I’ll be there before noon.”
“That’s fine. Ye can come straight to my office and see where I work.”
“Okay.” She’d thought about starting to lay the framework for how he’d likely be ditched from the internship as soon as the billionaire got around to it, but instead, she’d chickened out. She’d tell him the bad news and their new situation when she got to see him face-to-face. “As I told you yesterday, don’t call Lorne. And don’t say anything about me to him.”
“Or Doc.” He mimicked her with a high voice. “I know. I remember.”
“This is important, Elis.”
“Right. Important.” His voice dropped into a deep, low base.
“Don’t make fun of this.” Her hand tightened on her mobile. She couldn’t afford to give her enemy any clues about where she was or how she was saving her brother before he could do any harm. “Do you hear me?”
“Aye. I hear ye. I’ll see ye in a few hours. Come directly to the top floor. That’s where I work.” Her brother hadn’t even said good-bye before clicking off the phone.
So she wouldn’t find Elis at the flat and have the privacy to explain to him what was going on. In all honesty, she was relieved. She had no interest or desire to see her ex-lover’s luxurious London digs.
Her plan was simple. Find Elis. Pull him out of his office and out of the building. Tell him the bad news and then have him collect his stuff and leave London.
From there, she had no clue. But at least it was a start.
Pulling into a nearby garage, she paid the exorbitant parking fee and hiked the two blocks to the address Elis had given her this morning. When she spotted the correct building, she came to a hard stop.
She’d known. Imagined.
A billionaire. Wealth. Privilege. Power.
Intellectually, she’d known Lorne Ross was all those things.
Yet she hadn’t taken it to heart.
Instead, she’d fallen in love with the man in his sweaty T-shirt and tight running shorts. She’d fallen in love with his boyish eagerness. She’d fallen in love with his slate-blue eyes and the way he told his truths.
She’d fallen in love with an illusion.
The reality of what he really was punched into her like a well-aimed fist.
Gaes, Inc.’s head office was made entirely of glass and steel, a towering structure of perhaps forty floors. It looked like some spacecraft from the future had landed in the middle of London.
This is where a billionaire actually belonged.
Not at Castle Ross.
And assuredly not in her cozy cottage.
Ceri yanked back the last sentence in her head and replaced it with her new reality.
It wasn’t hers. Not the cottage and not the castle.
For a second, she wished she hadn’t decided to visit her solicitor as she’d driven through Pictloch. She wished she hadn’t demanded he write the document signing the castle over to Lorne. But when she looked up and up and up to the top of Gaes’ building, she realized to continue to fight would have been futile.
Her enemy had too much power. He also was willing to use her past against her.
There really wasn’t any reason to fight a losing battle.
“Hey!” A familiar voice came from behind her. “Ceri.”
Her heart bounded inside her chest, yet she forced a calm look on her face before turning. “Hi.”
Hugh Brooks beamed at her as he strode to her side. “What a welcome sight on this fine morning.”
Apparently, Elis hadn’t confided anything to his boss, just as she’d instructed. That was good. Because before this man had a chance to call his partner and summon him to London, she and her brother would be gone. She forced a smile. “Nice to see you again.”
Her brother’s boss eyed her, his gaze calculating. “Is it?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around her large purse and pushed another smile out. “I’m here to see my brother.”
“Are you?” His brown brows lifted. “On such short notice?”
“I decided to drive down to London to see how he’s doing.”
“Hmm.” He smiled again, as if nothing could be odd about her being here. Nothing at all. “How lovely.”
“Um. Yeah.” A streak of fear sizzled through her, yet there was no reason to worry. Elis hadn’t confessed anything, or Hugh Brooks would have said something if he knew she had left Pictloch for good.
Wouldn’t he?
What did it matter if he knew? She only had a few minutes in this office before she’d be gone with her brother. Still, something in this man’s eyes made the fear flutter in her breast. “Listen. I’m not here to cause—”
“Let’s go in, shall we?” Before she could object, he had grabbed onto her elbow and pulled her along in his wake. “Elis will be happy to see you, I’m sure.”
“He knows I’m coming.”
The man hummed once more and pushed open a set of twelve-foot-high glass doors, ushering her into a lobby filled with tall, green palm trees and silver statues that looked like alien warriors. A lively crowd, a mix of jeans-clad twenty-somethings and invigorated elders, stood around chatting with each other or on their phones.
Ceri gazed at one of the statues in horrified awe. It was some kind of humanoid, except it had only one eye and held a wicked-looking sword.
“Our new game,” Hugh said. “Lorne wanted life-sized replicas made so he could imagine them better when he coded.”
She said nothing. She never wanted to say her enemy’s name again, not if she could help it. Instead, she focused on the elevators in front of them and getting to her brother.
Her friendly guide smiled at her, an affable grin signaling genial goodwill. But he didn’t let her go, and his hold seemed to tighten as he tugged her into the last elevator. “This one goes to the
top.”
They were alone, and Ceri tried to unobtrusively pull her arm from his grasp. The only thing she got for her effort was another charming smile. He still didn’t let go. The elevator shot upward in a smooth, sleek surge.
“Here we are.” He waved her into another lobby. This one was hushed, the lush carpet beneath her trainers muffling any sound.
“Where is Elis’s cubicle?” She glanced around, thinking her kid brother couldn’t possibly have his cubicle in this hallowed place. A long oak desk swerved, following the curve of a glass wall. Behind the glass lay an open room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Two people huddled in the corner, bent over a desk filled with computers. Neither of them was her brother.
“Let’s go down this hall, shall we?” Hugh’s grasp was now determined.
She’d even say aggressive. “Would you let me go, please?”
“Certainly.” He didn’t, though. Instead, he stopped at a tall glass door and turned back to give her another of his easy smiles. “Here we are.”
Peering into the glass, she saw nothing. There was some kind of treatment on the surface that made it opaque. “Is this Elis’ office?”
Hugh’s answer was to push the door open and push her in.
The door slammed behind her with a hard thunk.
“Hello, Ceri.” The gently dangerous voice drifted across the room and pinned her right to the floor.
Lorne’s migraine hadn’t diminished even when he’d been certain she was coming to London.
Because he knew that was only the first step. He knew he had a lot of ground to cover before he could ever hope to win her hand.
He didn’t know how he knew that, he just did.
“She’s in love with ye,” her brother had stated last night, when Lorne had arrived from Scotland. “I’m sure of it. She would never have given ye the castle if she wasn’t.”
Elis had been shocked when he’d been told his sister had signed over the castle. Truth be told, Lorne was shocked, too. Still shocked. But her solicitor had showed up at the cottage the morning after she’d disappeared, with the paperwork. He’d been too busy to read through the entire thing—his priorities were getting his security team to find out where she’d gone and calling her brother to see if he’d heard from her.
