by Tamie Dearen
“I knew it. You’re the best. Have I told you I love you, yet today?”
“No,” she answered, though it wasn’t true. He’d said those words at least ten times since the sun rose that morning, but she knew it was the answer he wanted.
“E-gads! I’ve been remiss. I hereby proclaim that you, Stephanie Knight, Guardian of My Heart, are the love of my life.”
“Hmmm… I’m not sure saying I’m the love of your life is the same as saying you love me. After all, one is passive and the other is active.”
“You’re so right.” His voice dropped an octave and filled with gravel. “I much prefer the active kind of love to the passive kind.” He nuzzled behind her ear, kissing along her jaw and making stars explode under her eyelids.
She pushed his face away. “Stop distracting me. I want to know why the marriage still has to be a secret.”
The air escaped his lungs in a long, heavy breath. “I need you to be patient a little while longer. I’ve got my new attorney working on some important things.”
A pre-nuptial agreement. I should’ve known. She’d gladly sign any document giving up rights to Bran’s money, but it still stung, knowing he didn’t trust her any more than he’d trusted Carina.
“Okay. I can wait. It’s just that Ellie’s asking questions.”
“But you always wait until she’s asleep to sneak up to my room. Right?”
“Not always. I’ve missed a few of her breathing treatments so I could be with you. She’s always a little pouty when Laurie does the nighttime one.” Her chest hurt, tight with guilt.
“Are you missing it now?” His brows drew together.
“Yes, but it’s okay. Ellie will—”
“Let’s go.” He threw the covers back and stepped into his pants.
“You want to help with her CF therapy?”
“Sure I do. If I’m going to be Ellie’s dad, I need to know how to give her breathing treatments.”
As she crawled out of the bed to get dressed, she tried to respond. She opened her mouth, intending to tell him how sweet he was. She wanted to tell him he’d make a great dad, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a sob.
“Shhh…” His arms went around her, holding her against his chest, one hand stroking her hair. His deep voice rumbled in her ear. “It’s okay. I love Ellie almost as much as I love her mother.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.” His voice was quaky. “You deserve better—so much better than me. I’m trying hard to be what you deserve, but I’m broken, Steph. I’m so screwed up.”
“That’s not true, Branson. You’re—”
His lips silenced her protest. His kiss seemed to cry out in a desperation that matched her own, as his hands tangled in her hair. When he drew away, her lips mourned—a soft, wordless cry.
“Come.” His hand slipped to the small of her back and moved her toward the door. “Teach me how to be a real dad.”
Branson tightened his hands on the arms of his desk chair, trying to push his temper back.
“Mr. Parker—”
“Horace. Call me Horace.”
He sucked in a lungful of air and held it, counting to ten. “Horace, Carina is a beautiful woman. But more importantly, she’s a strong, intelligent person.”
Horace’s chair legs screeched, moving closer to the desk, so close his smoker’s breath came across with his words. “So, you’ll marry her, then?”
“No, Mr. Parker. Carina and I decided to go our separate ways.”
He spat out a vulgar curse word. “I wouldn’t have this problem if she wasn’t such a slut.”
“Mr. Parker—”
“She slept with two Knights, got knocked up by one, and neither one wants her.” His coarse laugh sounded more like a bark. “I get it. I don’t want her, either.”
“You don’t mean that. Carina’s your daughter.”
“I know she’s my daughter.” A slam on his desk made Bran jump out of his skin. “That’s why I have this problem. If she’d been a son, we wouldn’t be having this conversation today. She was a disappointment from the day she was born.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Bran replied, as his heart returned to its normal pace. “Surely her mom would disagree with you.”
“My wife doesn’t often have enough sober minutes in the day to form a lucid thought.” His voice came out strangled, like someone was choking him. “But when she finds out Carina was so stupid and selfish she got herself pregnant, she’ll tell me to kick her butt to the street like the tramp she is.”
“Horace…” Bran tried another approach. “Since my father is responsible for the child, Carina will have plenty of money to take care of the baby. All she needs is family to help her raise your grandchild.”
“Your dad denies being the father.” Horace sounded resigned. “We could take him to court, but it would ruin the family’s reputation.”
“That hardly seems important right now.”
“What would you know? You had everything handed to you on a silver platter. I had to work to get where I am.”
Bran didn’t bother to tell him he’d rejected his inheritance to prove he could make it on his own. Horace wouldn’t believe him, anyway. “What’s more important—your position in society or your daughter?”
“If you think Carina’s so important, you can have her.” Horace’s chair scraped again as he rose to his feet. “I told her to get an abortion, but she refused. So as far as I’m concerned, she made her choice.”
“No, leave it on.” Carina lifted her chin, red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears. “I asked Bran to let me hear it.”
Stephanie slowly withdrew her hand from the switch that would’ve silenced the speaker. She studied her fingernails, pretending she wasn’t paying attention to Horace Parker’s hurtful speech.
Branson asked Stephanie to sit with Carina to ensure she didn’t come blasting into the room. But if Steph had known this would happen, she would’ve run the other direction. After an eternity, a door slammed, and the torture was over.
Carina sat like a statue, staring at the wall, tear-tracks staining her perfect complexion.
You were right, MawMaw. I almost feel bad for hating her, but I’m not as good a person as you.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Steph struggled to find something encouraging to say. “He didn’t know you were listening. He was probably blowing off steam.”
Carina’s blank expression was etched in stone. “I’ve never pleased him. Nothing I ever accomplished was worth anything. My life was a total failure until I started dating Branson, but I couldn’t even do that right.”
Steph couldn’t stand the haunted look on her face, so she dropped her gaze back to her fingernails. “What are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know. What’s it matter to you?” Her flat tone was eerie, like she was dead, or wishing she was.
“I’ll help you with the baby.” Why did I say that? It’s too late to take it back. Maybe she’ll say no.
“Really? I suppose you’ve got a huge stash of money somewhere? Or is Branson giving you a big raise, soon?”
“I meant I’d help you take care of the baby. I could sit for you sometimes… give you a break.” She slid a box of tissues across the table.
“I can pay for a sitter. I’m gonna sue Martin for child support. Why should I care if it ruins my family’s reputation?”
Steph shrugged, relieved she was off the hook. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Carina snatched a tissue and patted her face dry, careful not to smear her mascara. She stood up, smoothed the wrinkles from her upscale dress and glided to the door on designer heels. As her hand reached for the handle, she paused and looked down.
“I guess I won’t be wearing these heels much longer. My feet are starting to swell.”
“Yeah, I had a lot of swelling when I was pregnant.”
“I could probably use some baby advice.�
�� Her hand dropped down to rub the small bump on her belly. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee sometime?”
“Uhmm…” Steph swallowed, but her mouth was dry. “Sure, I guess.”
“I’ll call you.”
The door clicked shut behind her. Steph sat frozen in shock, feeling like she was in a weird dream.
“Shut up, MawMaw. I know you’re up there laughing at me.”
“Are you sure you want me down there in the meeting?” Stephanie wished she’d worn an antiperspirant instead of just a deodorant. When Bran told her to dress up for a big date after the Escapades board meeting, she hadn’t worried how she would look. She’d put on the nicest dress she owned—the white one she’d worn in Las Vegas—and taken extra care with her hair and makeup.
Maybe tonight’s the big night. Maybe he’ll tell me he’s got the prenuptial agreement ready, and we can be married for real. A pre-nup might not sound romantic to most people, but to her, it was better than a diamond ring.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Branson swept his hand forward and waited for her to step onto the private elevator before joining her and pushing the button for the third floor conference room.
“But I feel so self-conscious. You’ll look like all the other men, wearing a coat and tie, but none of the other women will have on evening gowns. Why can’t I take notes from next door, like I always do?” She’d transcribed the proceedings of countless board meetings, while watching the broadcast from the adjacent room.
“I need you to be my eyes today. I want you to tell me which board members are against me. And anyway, you’re the reason we’re here. You’re the one who did all the background research on every board member and followed all the leads. Why should you have to hide in the side room as if you were an ordinary personal assistant? You’re so much more than that. You helped me build Escapades from the ground up.”
How could she explain it? It’s not enough that you’re proud of how well I do my job… I want you to be proud that I’m your wife. Aloud, she said, “I just wish you would’ve warned me, so I wouldn’t have worn this dress.”
He lifted her left hand and kissed the backs of her fingers, empty of any identifying rings. “I’ve been told you look stunning in that dress, and it so happens I want to show you off today.”
“How can you show me off? No one even knows we’re together.” She tried to keep her resentment from showing.
He groped the elevator panel, pushed a button, and the elevator jerked to a stop.
“What’s wrong, Steph? Am I in trouble for something?”
Darn him for looking so sweet and concerned. She felt petty for being upset.
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Seems like it might be something, instead of nothing. If we’re going to make this relationship work, you have to talk to me.” He ducked his head away. “I try to get your cues, but I guess I’m not very good at it.”
I’m a jerk. Of course it’s hard for him to understand when something upsets me, without any visual cues.
“I’m sorry, Bran. I didn’t want to say anything, because… well… because I didn’t want you to feel rushed. Or I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Changed my mind about what?”
“About being married. We’ve been secretly married for weeks, now. The only reason I can think that you haven’t told people by now is you’ve changed your mind.”
He held her shoulders the way he always did when he wanted to be certain he faced her. “Haven’t I told you I love you, every day? Haven’t I said I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you as my wife? Don’t I come every night to help you give Ellie her breathing treatment?” The muscles worked in his throat. “Can you not tell how I feel about you when we make love?”
So much for my great makeup job. She dabbed at her wet face with her hand, determined to keep mascara tears from dripping on her white dress.
“Sure, when we’re alone together, it seems like everything is perfect. But I don’t understand why we can’t tell people.” She sniffed, long and hard, making a horrible sound that probably grossed him out. No, he’s already heard me throw up.
He opened his arms, and she fell against him. His hand traced her spine in soothing strokes. “I’m sorry, Steph. I’m so sorry. I’m not good at this. I thought I was protecting you by not telling you.”
“What? What haven’t you told me?”
“That I don’t trust my father.” He squeezed her so tight she could barely breathe. “Right now he’s angry, and from what Carina told me, he’s more ruthless than I’ve ever seen him. He seems determined to destroy me, and I’m afraid that might apply to anything or anyone who’s important to me. I didn’t want to take the chance that he might hurt you.”
“I can’t live like this, Branson. I can’t keep pretending you’re nothing but my boss, and then sneaking around with you every night. When is it going to stop?”
“A week or two, at most. I need to take care of this thing with my father. I’m counting on Bernstein. He said Dad’s going to crash the board meeting this afternoon. That’s why I need you in there with me.”
“What if your plan doesn’t work?”
“It’ll work. It has to.”
Dread settled in her stomach, knowing all the things that could go wrong. Bran was the type that wanted his life in perfect order. He might not be able to commit to her as long as his father remained a threat. She shoved that thought to the back of her mind. What else could be holding him back? “Did you finish the prenuptial agreement?”
“What prenuptial agreement?” He furrowed his brows even deeper. Then his eyes flew open wide. “Oh, right… the prenup… our prenup. Yes. Yes, it’s done. I haven’t had time to look over it, but Phillip took care of it. Technically, it’s not a pre-nuptial agreement, since we’re already married.”
His forced chuckle didn’t fool her for minute. He was lying to her—she could sense it deep inside. She couldn’t put her finger on which part was untrue, but she knew he was covering something up. It felt like the beginning of the end. This might be their last night together.
“We’re going to be late for the meeting.” Teetering on the edge of control, she reached around him to start the elevator, barely able to see the numbers through her tears. If his beautiful blue eyes could actually see, he would’ve known she was holding herself together with masking tape and paper clips. But he had no idea, and she was glad he didn’t. He didn’t need any distractions during this meeting. If it was the last thing she ever did for him—and it just might be—she would help him beat his father at his own game.
The boardroom fell silent when they entered. Though some eyebrows raised at her atypical dress, something in Bran’s authoritative aura commanded their attention. Eighteen sets of eyes fixed on Branson’s sightless ones as he moved to the head of the long table. She felt a warm glow of pride in him, despite her hurt. Settling into the empty chair beside him, she opened her laptop and attempted to shrink until she was invisible.
“Ladies. Gentlemen.” Branson seemed totally at ease, turning his head to face each side of the table. “I believe congratulations are in order. We’ve had a stellar quarter at Escapades Resorts, expanding from our eco-adventure resorts into the luxury hotel market and swallowing the competition. I’m happy to report the value of our shares has increased by four percent.”
Polite clapping spread around the table like a wave. As he continued his speech, quoting the statistics he’d memorized and arguing for optimism in the face of a recent adjustment in the stock prices, Steph made notes about the expressions of each of the board members, rather than transcribing the meeting, as those present must’ve assumed.
William Bernstein, their secret informant, twisted and twirled a pen in his hand. His eyes were fixed on Branson, though they seemed unfocused. The grey-haired man claimed to have shifted his loyalty from Martin to Branson, but Steph worried it might be yet another ploy of Branson’s father.
&nbs
p; Ester Martel’s loyalty was an unknown, but Steph noted she was flipping through her handout, rather than watching Branson. Stephanie went down the line, recording every eye twitch, chewed fingernail and fidgeting hand, along with a few board members who gazed at the table or out the window or anywhere other than the man they should be listening to.
“The successful acquisition of Harrison Hotels and Resorts has increased our cash flow, while—”
The heavy wooden doors burst open, and Bran’s father stomped into the room, amid gasps of surprise. Steph’s heart thundered in her chest, but she kept her cool, watching the board members with hawk eyes.
“Good morning.” Martin strode all the way down the long table to stand beside Bran, glancing from one startled board member to another, like a king surveying his servants. “Good to see you, Branson. I only wish it could be under better circumstances.”
“What are you doing here?” Bran growled, rising from his chair. “This is a private board meeting. Do I need to call the guards to escort you out of here?”
Steph’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, seeing the two men side by side, Martin’s salt and pepper hair the only thing that set him apart from his son, thirty-five years his junior.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” said Martin. “You don’t know it yet, but you’ll be the one escorted out.”
Steph fumed, wishing she could wipe Martin’s smug expression off his face, but she kept her mouth zipped.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Bran said. “Not only do I have the controlling shares of this company, which I started from the ground up, two years ago, but I’m also the CEO.”
“Not for long,” Martin said. “As the second largest shareholder, I have the right to call for a vote for a new CEO.”
“Second largest shareholder?” Branson raised his voice to be heard over the loud objections. “I would’ve known if any single buyer had purchased that many shares.”
A number of the board members barked with outrage. Others had worried frowns, while a few were smiling as if they’d expected this announcement. Stephanie made quick notes of the board members who seemed to support Bran’s father.
