The Trouble With Coco Monroe

by CC MacKenzie

Now he’d had a taste of what life could be like with her, he wouldn’t go back to that.

  Never.

  Nico sat opposite, took a sip of beer, beaned him with a dark look.

  “Bronte never holds a grudge. Do you want to talk about it?”

  So Rafe told him everything, almost everything, right from the beginning.

  “You have done nothing wrong,” Nico told him. His deep voice went low and the Italian accent more pronounced. “Although you have not been clever with the way you have handled Coco. You must know how sensitive she is about her independence. You are close to the family, surely you realise that she will go to the wall with this?”

  If he didn’t realise it before, he sure as hell did now.

  “Did you know she’s behind First Step?”

  Nico shook his head. “Coco is an amazing woman.”

  Rafe recognized the honest truth of the comment.

  “She is and it’s taken me too fucking long to realise it.”

  “What you and her family should be asking yourselves is why she kept such a thing a secret. She has been kept in a gilded cage her whole life. In my opinion she needed to prove to her father, her brothers, you, and more importantly to herself that she is her own person. You need to treat her as an equal.”

  Nico was right.

  Placing the beer bottle on the coffee table, Rafe knew that if he made another misstep with Coco he’d lose her for good.

  His eyes met Nico’s.

  “What can I do to make it right?”

  “How are your knees?”

  Rafe blinked.

  “My knees are fine.”

  “Good, because you are going to be spending a lot of time on them begging her to take you back.”

  No way.

  Rafael Cavendish would never beg anyone for anything.

  Especially Coco Monroe.

  Nico appeared to have the uncanny knack of reading his mind because he shrugged, gave him a wolfish grin.

  “You did ask.”

  Chapter Forty Two

  “What on earth is going on? Why are all my friends cutting their hair?” Bronte demanded.

  They were sitting in the garden room of The Dower House.

  Janine was nursing Boo.

  Coco had just unburdened her heavy heart to her friends’ mounting disbelief.

  “I think it’s got something to do with going through a life changing event,” she said. “The guy who stabbed me grabbed my hair first, yanking my head back. It was just something I needed to do.”

  “Between Janine and Rosie and now you, I’m beginning to think you’re all insane. Don’t get me wrong. I’m so proud of you for helping that poor girl. But dear God, Coco, the Russian Mafia?”

  Having talked everything through with Bronte and Janine had given Coco another perspective on her father and Rafe’s behaviour.

  But anger still burned hot and bright in her gut. “I don’t want you to give Nico a hard time over this.”

  Now Bronte frowned, heaved a sigh of utter frustration.

  “Nico and Rafe simply cannot help themselves, can they? And we’re attracted to strong men. You should be able to understand how Rafe ticks better than anyone. You’ve two brothers in the military. Rafe was a career soldier, too. Kick against it all you like, Coco, but they’ll never stop trying to protect you.”

  “There’s a big difference between protecting and manipulating a person.”

  Now Bronte placed her hand on top of Coco’s. “You love him, honey.”

  Deep down she accepted the truth of the statement.

  But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  “I’ve always loved him.” Saying the words out loud did nothing to ease the ache in her heart. If anything it made it worse. “It’ll never work between us,” she added.

  Bronte lifted a heavy glass jug, topped up their water glasses.

  Her son raised his arms and Bronte lifted Luca onto her lap for a cuddle, nuzzling his dark silky curls. Sophia lay dozing on a rug, tiny fingers stroking through her doll’s hair.

  Everyone was hot and tired in the humid air of a late summer afternoon.

  “Rafe owes your father a great deal. I remember my mother and father talking about what happened to him after his parents’ separated. It was all over the gossip columns at the time. And I know he had it rough at school. Your family basically adopted him. It must have been difficult for him to deal with his feelings for you.”

  Coco didn’t want to have sympathy or understanding for the young Rafe.

  She wanted to hang on nice and tight to a righteous anger.

  “That doesn’t give him the right to just take over my life or to decide how I live it. I heard him tell my father that I’d marry him and have his babies.” Then she glowered, muttering, “That’ll be the day. Although, it would have been nice to be asked.”

  And right there was the nub of the matter.

  “Maybe he was asking your father’s permission?” Bronte suggested, playing Devil’s Advocate.

  “You know what Rafe’s like, everything’s by the book.”

  But Coco simply shook her head and tilted her chin in a way that made Bronte’s green eyes go wide.

  “I’ll never marry. My independence is too precious and hard won.”

  “Okay. Maybe you could compromise. Live together, see where it leads.”

  Now Coco scowled.

  “We’d already agreed to try. But after this stunt he’s pulled I never want to see him again.”

  Over her son’s hair Bronte gave her a sharp look.

  “That’s just you being stubborn. You love him. He loves you. Deal with it. And you need to have a chat with dear daddy. Lay down the law in words of one syllable.”

  Like Louise, Bronte never pulled her punches when it came to telling the truth to her friends and that’s what Coco loved about her.

  “I’ve been putting it off for months,” Coco admitted. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

  Now Bronte’s eyes went serious as they met hers.

  “I get that. But believe me there’s nothing worse than not being honest and open with family. Secrets and lies and words unspoken break hearts.”

  Coco understood exactly where Bronte was coming from. Learning that her beloved father had not been her biological parent had caused her friend too much heartache, too much pain.

  Coco knew she needed to deal with her issues.

  But not yet.

  “I cut my hair because Connor insisted I had it tied in a high ponytail. He used to plait it,” Janine said, in an emotionless voice as if talking to herself.

  Both women simply stared at her.

  Bronte’s eyes went wide.

  “He used to brush your hair? How romantic,” she said in a soft voice.

  Listening to Coco talk about First Step and how she helped women, children, in trouble gave Janine the courage to speak and now she’d started she found the words just tumbled out.

  “Romance had nothing to do with it. I doubt he understood what the word meant. He used my hair like a rope to pull me down the stairs, to haul me around the kitchen and to pin my head to the bed.”

  Eyes fixed to a spot in the distance, she ignored Bronte’s shocked inhale of breath. Her body had gone as cold as ice as she continued, “I’ve no idea why I didn’t see it before I married him. Looking back I can see he’d started to deconstruct me, working out ways to break me as soon as we were engaged. It started with little things. I was spending too much time with my friends, not enough time with him. My dress was too short. Eating sugar was bad, no way would he be married to a woman who was fat. In the weeks before the wedding I ignored the warnings, his erratic behaviour, mood swings, even the nerves in my stomach. I ignored the way he made me jump if I did something to annoy him or had an opinion he didn’t agree with. Then the first night we arrived in a new country, the way he had me on my knees in front of him, the things he made me do to him to make him happy...” Her voice hitched, went rough. “I kn
ew. I knew then that I was helpless, isolated, and in the hands of a man with pure evil in his heart.”

  Silence.

  “Dear God,” whispered Coco.

  She moved to sit next to her and Janine felt an arm around her shoulders, and took the strength, the unconditional support, and the love, offered.

  Her eyes found Bronte’s who were swimming as she blinked rapidly and held her son close to her heart.

  “How can I tell my baby girl she was not conceived in love but in hate? How can I possibly tell her that her father tied and beat her mother until she bled and then repeatedly raped her. How can I tell her that?”

  Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, Bronte’s cheeks and Coco’s cheeks.

  “I don’t know,” Bronte whispered. “God, no wonder you’re not ready to give Josh a chance.”

  Coco sniffed, swiped her cheeks. “Josh can just get over himself and get a fucking life. I take it you haven’t told anyone this?”

  Janine shook her head. “Only the hospital who treated me after the accident. The nurses were more than kind, but the doctors, the men, couldn’t look at me. I thought it was all behind me, but I’m having dreams, flashbacks, and they’re getting worse. I’m so scared they’ll take my baby away from me. Find me an unfit mother.”

  Now Coco took a deep breath and looked her dead in the eye. And what Janine saw there, not pity, not sympathy, but determination and belief, in her, gave her strength and hope to carry on. “Who is going to take your baby?”

  Janine took a shuddering breath and spoke of the terror that gripped her heart day in day out. “Connor’s parents want to see her. His brother won’t take no for an answer and is threatening to report me to the social services. They believe every single word Connor told them. I refuse to let people who brought evil into this world anywhere near my child. And my father has written to me. He’s threatening to use lawyers if I don’t let him see her. He believed all the lies Connor told him for weeks, months. My own father refused to help me... I can’t let him near her... I just can’t.” Panic made her voice too high along with something like hysteria.

  Coco placed her hands on Janine’s shoulders and stared dead into her eyes.

  “No wonder you’re having nightmares. What happened to unconditional love and support from a parent? Nope. You are not going to lose your baby. It’s not even a possibility. And I’ll tell you why. Because I’m going to help you right here and right now. You leave dealing with Connor’s parents and your father to our lawyers at First Step. They’re kick-ass bastards.”

  After kissing her on the cheek Coco rose and went for her purse, pulled out a card and placed it in Janine’s hand.

  “This is the telephone number of one of the best therapists in the country. She specialises in domestic abuse. Phone her now. And then we’ll make a plan of action.”

  Janine’s hand trembled as her swimming eyes struggled to focus.

  “But today’s not about me, it’s about...”

  Now Coco spun and her eyes went hard. “Do not give me that ‘I don’t matter shit’, Janine. That’s Connor talking, not you. Compared to what you’ve been through, dealing with Rafael and my father is a walk in the park. They’ll keep. Are you going to phone that number or will I do it for you?”

  When she still hesitated, Coco leaned into her and her eyes went dark with swirling emotions.

  “Do it for that little baby you’re holding. She deserves to have a mother who is whole and well and strong. Take the first step, darling. But most of all do it for you. Do not let the bastard who did this to you win.”

  With her heart thundering in her ears, in her throat, Janine handed Boo to Coco and took the first step into a better future.

  Chapter Forty Three

  “Madre di Dio,” Nico breathed.

  He held his weeping wife tightly in his strong arms as his heart broke for Bronte, and for her friend. From the very beginning he’d been aware Janine was nervous of him, shied away from him, and now he understood why.

  He’d lived a life where he’d seen the worst of what men, his own grandfather, could do to a woman and a child. Nothing shocked or surprised him. But Bronte was different. She’d been brought up with unconditional love, with support and affection. Although that hadn’t stopped her being the victim of a controlling son-of-a-bitch, her ex-fiance, Jonathan Winthrop.

  Why was it that father’s were such fools with their daughters?

  What the hell was Janine’s father thinking?

  How could he possibly have refused to help his only child?

  “Janine should not be alone at a time like this, querida. She should stay here with us.”

  Bronte lifted her head from his shoulder, wiped her eyes with the tissue he thrust into her hand and blew her nose.

  “She’s not alone,” her voice trembled and she cleared her throat. “Louise and Coco are staying with her at Sweet Sensation until they’ve sorted out lawyers and the therapist. They wanted to take her and Boo home with Coco. But with Rosie away Janine’s refusing to leave the business. She says she wants normalcy, a daily routine. God, she’s so stubborn, Nico. What the hell are we going to do with her? I told her we’ll manage, but she’s not having it.”

  Nico pressed gentle kisses on her forehead, cheeks and chin.

  “Then we will do everything we can to show her she is not alone. I will have our security do a regular drive-by each evening. And I will tell her myself that if she has any more trouble from family to let me know immediately. I will not have her and Boo hounded like this.”

  Bronte just closed her eyes, wound her arms around his waist and held on tight.

  “And then this mess Coco got herself into, she’s unbelievable.”

  Nico lifted her chin to look deep into her eyes and recognised her anxiety. And felt an overwhelming sense of relief that she was not angry with him for keeping secrets.

  “Am I forgiven?”

  She nodded. “Of course you are. I didn’t have all the facts when I blistered your ear. My God, the Russian mafia? What will she get up to next?”

  His lips twitched at the look of outrage on her face, in her voice.

  “I believe Rafael Cavendish will have his hands full with her.”

  Her brow creased as she thought it over.

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about him having his hands anywhere near her. She’s seriously ticked off with him and her father. And I can’t say I blame her.”

  His mouth found hers and kissed away the delectable pout of her bottom lip.

  Her response was immediate as she melted into the kiss, into his arms.

  This was love.

  The way they held each other, touched each other, murmured to each other.

  And Nico promised himself to savour every single precious moment.

  Chapter Forty Four

  Six weeks later.

  Wearing her favourite ratty bathrobe, hair like a bird’s nest and her disposition grim, Coco sat on the toilet seat in her bathroom and surveyed the car crash of her life.

  Tossed on the floor was a trashy magazine with an exclusive about a secret affair between Coco Monroe and Lord Rafael Cavendish written by Tabitha Crew. Along with details of their time spent at Ludlow Hall plus photographs of their love nest. Where the hell had she got the information?

  Not only that, she had the skinny on First Step.

  Well, it was bound to happen at some point.

  People talked.

  And when money was dangled in front of them people were prepared to talk, a lot.

  Perhaps it hadn’t been smart to refuse the woman’s calls or answer her emails.

  Since she wasn’t writing lies there was nothing Coco could do.

  However, she’d drawn a line in the sand when the journalist had tried to access her land, her home. The bitch had actually published her address.

  And her lawyers would have Ms. Crew for that breach of the press code.

  All that was bad enough, but Tabitha Crew was not the mai
n the reason Coco was hiding in her en-suite bathroom safe behind a locked door.

  Wasn’t this ironic?

  And absolutely typical of the way her life was going to hell?

  Coco Monroe, the woman with her life all planned out, the woman who helped others in a crisis, had just made a complete disaster of her own.

  How could she run a foundation that helped women leave controlling men, men who took away their choice? And yet manage to fall madly in love with one herself?

  How many times had she heard those bruised and battered souls say they loved the men who’d hurt them?

  Oh, she knew Rafe would never physically abuse a woman. And she could more than hold her own emotionally with him, too. Even comparing him to those men was not being fair to Rafe, deep inside she knew it. She’d hurt him. And by breaking his heart, she’d broken her own.

  However, no one made her knees tremble the way Rafe did.

  Coco hadn’t believed in knees trembling or the way a person’s breath caught in their throat until Rafe.

  The bastard filled every single romantic bloody cliché.

  In spite of all that, a bitchy journalist, trembling knees, a broken heart, none of those reasons were why she was conducting a life changing experiment in her bathroom.

  According to a very helpful girl on YouTube, the best way to take a pregnancy test was to pee in a sterile cup. It had sounded like a good plan to Coco rather than the hit and miss of a mid stream test. And more hygienic, too.

  So she’d lined up the five bells and whistles pregnancy tests and diligently left each stick in her pee for the required number of seconds.

  And yep, each and every one showed a positive result.

  It wasn’t possible for five tests to get it wrong and apparently the results were ninety-nine per cent accurate.

  To be honest she’d known something up due to the fact that her cycle ran like clockwork each month. Initially, she’d put down the lack of the curse to stress. However, she was a woman in tune with her body. The clues were all there; the swollen breasts, the too tender to touch nipples, the sensation of walking through treacle. Then there’d been the early morning nausea, the draggy feeling low in her belly.