His to Keep: A Billionaire Romance (His to Have Book 3)

by Hayes, Piper

  It is also about sending a message to Blake. This is about old money, about having something Blake can never have. We won’t be deer hunting. It will be something more patrician than that. If he’d had the time, I’m sure my father would have shipped in horses and hounds and announced a fox hunt complete with red jackets. Our first step into the lodge only confirms my suspicions. The entryway leads to an enormous staircase that doubles back beneath a large stained glass window.

  There’s already some kind of gathering going on in the lounge to the side of the main foyer. Even through the french doors, I can smell the sweet twang of cigar smoke. I convince Blake to go upstairs first. An old retreat in the country. Houseguests I’ve never met. Money. Resentment. Firearms. It feels like the setup to a murder mystery. We find our bedroom and let ourselves in. I step into the bathroom while Blake pushes ahead. I hear his laughter before I’ve even shut the door.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You’ll have to see it to believe it.”

  A moment later I join him and shake my head in disbelief. My father has given us a room with two twin beds. “Seriously?” I can’t help but ask.

  Blake laughs. “You have to hand it to him,” he says.

  “Are you mad?” I say.

  “No, I just find it amusing. We’ll figure things out. Besides, there’s always a chance that this goes so poorly that we’ll leave before tonight anyway.”

  “You’re the one who asked me to come,” I tell him.

  “Let’s go downstairs and see what your father’s up to,” Blake says. “I’m sure he has more in store for us.

  Back downstairs, I see a few familiar faces. There are old acquaintances of my father, parents of friends who were nowhere to be seen when we’d hit hard times. Now that my father had some semblance of wealth again, they were all too glad to flock back to his side. But most of the faces are new. From what Blake’s told me, they’re investors in and clients of his company. There’s a chance my father’s using this weekend as an opportunity to start establishing a power base within Blake’s company.

  “Blake, Catherine, how are you?” A voice calls from behind me. The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Tom Peterson. When I first met Blake, he brought me out to dinner with Tom and his wife, Nell.

  Blake takes his hand. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says. “I didn’t take Nell for the hunting type.”

  “She’s not,” Tom says. “She’s at a spa for the weekend. I’m actually here with my grandfather. He’s an old family friend of the Carlisles.” He’s a federal judge too, and more than likely he was involved in signing the warrants that led to the investigation into Blake. “You should meet him,” Tom says. “He’s been hearing all about you.”

  “Really?” Blake says. “All lies, I hope,”

  “Every word of it true,” a man says from behind me.

  I turn to greet him. “Hello, father,” I say. My tone is less than warm. He’s wearing a tweed jacket as if Vermont hunting lodge hadn’t gotten his point across loudly enough. “Thank you for the room.”

  “Unfortunately, this place doesn’t have adjoining suites. I’d have preferred something with a door between the rooms.” He turns to Tom. “You know how it is.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to stay under the same roof as Nell until we were married. Her parents used to make me sleep in the guest house.”

  “I think there’s a woodshed somewhere on the property,” my father says. “I could set up a cot.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Blake says. “I don’t intend on sleeping tonight anyway.”

  My father ignores the innuendo. “We’re heading out in a little while to see if there’s anything worth shooting,” he says.

  “What exactly are we hunting?” I ask.

  “I’m hunting big game,” my father says. He looks at Blake. I can feel the tension building between them. The edges of my father’s mouth curl up in a smile. “We’re hunting birds, grouse actually.” He claps Blake on the shoulder. “I’ll start rounding up the troops.”

  Tom gives us a knowing smile as my father steps away and starts talking to another group. “What I forgot to mention was Nell invariably found her way to the guest house.”

  Tom and I laugh, but Blake doesn’t even seem to notice what he said. He’s too busy staring across the room. “Everything ok?” I ask. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  There’s a tall man in the far corner staring back at him. He has dark hair with the first streaks of gray starting to work in from his temples. He has broad shoulders, and he stands in the corner like he owns the room. There’s something wolflike about the way he stares and sneers at Blake. When Blake doesn’t respond to me, even Tom realizes that something’s up. “I think I’ll go refresh my drink,” he says. He takes a deep sip, but his cup is still almost full.

  When I look back to Blake, the man is crossing the room. I expect him to go straight to Blake. Instead, he walks up to me and holds up his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

  “Catherine Carlisle,” I say.

  “Pleased to meet you, Catherine,” he says. His scowl is gone replaced by a smile that’s equally foreboding. “I’m Jacob. Jacob Fletcher.”

  CHAPTER 9

  BLAKE

  From the moment I see him, I feel an acrid tang at the back of my throat. My heart is racing, and I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I clench my fists, grit my teeth and try to tell myself that this isn’t the place or the time to settle my score. There’s a plan. I need to stick to it. This isn’t about settling my score with Jacob, about making him pay. This is about moving forward. I try to tell myself that Jacob is just a means to an end, but I know that isn’t true. This is personal.

  I’ve been hiding from Jacob for a decade, and now he’s here. How he found out about Richard Carlisle’s party, I don’t know. How did he get here without Ben giving me so much as a heads up? That’s a question for another day. Right now, all I care about is that Jacob Fletcher is standing across from me talking to Cat. I want to punch him in the stomach, drag him outside and tell him that if he ever so much as touches her again, I’ll kill him.

  “Blake and I go back a long ways. Of course, back when I knew him, he was just a pimply teenager,” Jacob says. I wonder how hard it would be to break his arm.

  “And already more of a man than you’ll ever be,” Catherine says as she pulls her hand away from him. “If you excuse me, I have no desire to ever speak with you again. There’s a federal judge I’ve been meaning to see.” I could kiss her. She gives me a look that says, let’s go, turns her shoulder, and heads across the room.

  “Looks like you’ve made something of yourself,” Jacob says. “I wonder how many people here know what you truly are.”

  “Spare me the righteousness,” I tell him. “You deserved ten times worse than what you got.”

  “How’s your sister?” he asks.

  “Happy,” I tell him. “And armed.”

  “So you two have met,” Richard Carlisle says from across the room. “Blake, Jacob here was telling me that he knew your sister. A small world.”

  “Jacob was just explaining how he came to be here today,” I tell Richard. If he’s behind this, I’ll find a way to take them both down.

  “Once upon a time, Jacob was a client of Carlisle Capital. When he heard I had taken a part ownership stake in your company, he called with an offer.”

  “We don’t need his business,” I tell Richard.

  Richard smirks. “He offered to buy me out at a premium. I told him I’d take it under consideration. Perhaps the two of you would like to join me as we head out to get a little shooting in.

  Jacob slaps my shoulder. “I was thinking Blake and I could use this as an opportunity to reacquaint ourselves.”

  Richard shrugs. If he masterminded Jacob’s arrival, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. “Suit yourselves. I’ll track down my daughter and see if she deig
ns to grace me with her company.”

  “Why would I go out there with you?”

  “I’m sure you have a few things you’d like to say to me that are best said away from others. Or maybe we can call your girlfriend back over to mediate. Either way, I plan on ending this trip with a trophy.”

  “Let’s go,” I say. I want Jacob as far from Cat as possible.

  “See you in a few,” Jacob says. He waves to someone in the crowd and drifts away. I head upstairs to get ready. Cat’s waiting for me in the room. I don’t even look at her. “We should leave. You should call the police,” she says.

  “I’ll be fine. Just give me a little distance,” I tell her. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. I need to find out what he’s planning. Until then, no one is safe.”

  “Let me come with you then.”

  “I need to do this alone,” I tell her. I take Cat in my arms and kiss her. I focus on the sweet taste of her lips. I remind myself that I’m doing this for her, that by the time I’m done, I’ll be the man she deserves. All I have to do is get through this weekend first.

  Cat’s reluctant, but she can tell there’s no use in trying to change my mind. I meet Richard and the others down in the gun room. There are close to two dozen brightly polished shotguns lined up along one wall. Like the rest of the room, they’re immaculate. A guide reads out instructions and explains the importance of firearm safety, but it’s remarkable how quickly the guns are in our hands, and we’re headed out to our blinds.

  We walk in silence. Our blind is on the far side of a hill. The path is wide and well-worn. There are fields to one side and woods on the other. The trail cuts into the woods as it rises up the hill. Once we’re in the woods, Jacob starts talking. “I’ve been looking for you for years,” he says. “I looked everywhere. Once or twice, I thought I found you. I had a man on the West Coast for three years looking for you. I’d almost given up hope.”

  “How did you find me?” I ask. I already know the answer.

  “I have friends in high places,” he says, “and you have enemies.”

  “Besides you?” I say.

  “How’s your sister?” He asks. “Still eager to please?”

  I tighten my grip on my gun. The cold steel has started to warm in my hand, and for the first time I realize that there’s a chance that only one of us walks out of these woods today. I could shoot him, but I’d like nothing more than to use my gun like a club and beat Jacob within an inch of his life. I try to remind myself that Jacob is trying to provoke me. He wants me to do something stupid. I’m tempted to grant that wish.

  We walk on a while longer. He lets that last question hang in the air. I’m not going to dignify it with a response. “I bet you think you’re something special now,” he says to me.

  “I think I’m going to finish what I started ten years ago,” I tell him.

  “That’s funny, I was thinking the same thing. So where is your sister anyway? ” Jacob asks. “She’s probably getting a bit old for my tastes. Now that pretty little thing you came here with, what was her name again, Catherine?”

  “If you go near her again, I will end you. No revenge. No anger. If you touch Catherine, I will kill you.”

  “I bet she’d enjoy it,” he says. “She has that look in her eyes. That feistiness. You know, your sister liked it when I got rough.”

  I lose it. I toss the gun to the ground and rush after him. I grab Jacob’s gun and pin him against a tree. We struggle for control, and then there’s a sickening boom, so loud that my ears ring as the butt of the shotgun cracks into my hip. I wrest the gun from Jacob’s hands and throw it to the ground. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. I stare him in the eye as the ringing recedes from my ears.

  Then I hear another sound far off. A scream that saps me of every ounce of strength. Cat.

  CHAPTER 10

  CATHERINE

  My lungs ache and my ears are ringing, but I don’t care. All I can think about is that gunshot I just heard. All I can think about is whether or not Blake is ok. It’s my fault for letting him go off with Jacob on his own, and I’m not going to let it get worse. I open my mouth, take a deep breath and scream again.

  “Catherine,” my father says, “what in the hell are you doing?” He holds his gun up and turns in a circle, looking around the blind for some sign of anything that would make me scream like that. “You’re liable to give me a heart attack if you surprise me like that again.”

  “How do you really know Jacob Fletcher?” I ask.

  “I don’t,” he says. “He called up out of the blue earlier this week and said he wanted to buy into Blake’s company. He said that he was once a client of Carlisle Capital and that he wanted to discuss a business proposition with me. I invited him here for the weekend. Why are you asking about him?”

  “I don’t have time to explain, but if you meant a word of what you said about patching things up between us, you need to do what I say.”

  “And what do you say?” he says. He looks more intrigued than anything.

  “Sit down on the ground. Lean against the blind,” I tell him.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re having a heart attack,” I tell him.

  “I am not having a heart attack,” he says. “I had a heart attack six months ago, and I think I know what it feels like.”

  “You what?” I ask. “And you never told me?”

  “It was minor. I didn’t want to bother you. You know what they say about distance and the heart.”

  “If that were the case, you’d have been father of the year for my entire childhood,” I say. My father had a heart attack and didn’t even bother to share it with me? I don’t know whether to be mad at him for not telling me or myself for not having any clue what had happened. Either way, it has to wait. “Sit down. When Blake gets here, you need to convince him you’re having a cardiac event. We’ll talk about your actual heart attack later.”

  “And if someone else comes running?” he asks.

  “Blake will get here first.”

  “Cat, where are you?” Blake shouts from somewhere in the distance. “Cat, are you ok?” I can hear him running through the brush, the branches cracking and leaves rustling as he rushes to me.

  I feel a wave of relief. He’s ok. Whatever happened with Jacob, it doesn’t matter. Blake is ok. He’s coming. He’s safe.

  “Sit down,” I whisper to my father. He slumps to the ground and grabs his chest. He starts taking shallow breaths. He gives me a wink. Damn it, he’s enjoying this. Of course, he’d enjoy this.

  “What happened?” Blake says as he steps into view. His eyes are wild. He rushes over to me, looking me over head to foot. “Are you ok?” He throws his arms around me and pulls me tight. He hugs me hard enough to take my breath away. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “It’s my dad,” I tell him when he finally eases on the hug. “He collapsed. I think he just had too much to drink. He’s going to be fine.”

  A wave of relief washes over Blake’s face. He’s breathing hard, and he bends over, holding his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “I thought something horrible had happened to you,” he says. “Richard, are you ok?”

  “I’m fine,” he growls. “I just need to lie down.”

  “Do you want me to get a doctor?” Blake asks.

  “No,” my father says. “I’ll have my personal physician come up from Connecticut. There’s no need to be dramatic.”

  “I think I saw a golf cart going around at some point,” Blake says. “I’ll track it down and be back.”

  My father pushes himself up. “I can walk. I’m not an invalid.”

  “Your ego is intact,” I tell him. “That’s always a good sign.”

  “Suit yourself,” Blake says.

  We walk slowly back to the house. Blake repeatedly tries to convince my father to call a local doctor, telling him that it’s in no one’s interest to have him pretend to be well. He takes out his phone a
nd starts looking up local hospitals. I know what he thinks of my father, and yet it doesn’t seem to matter to him. He just wants to do the right thing.

  It makes me feel even worse about lying to him, and I decide I have to tell him the truth. We make it back to the house before I tell Blake the real reason for the scream.

  We’re back in the parlor, and Blake had just insisted that my father sit down in a large window seat and said he’d be back with aspirin. “You mean he’s fine?” Blake asks. He looks at me dumbfounded.

  “Don’t get mad. I was afraid something was going to happen between the two of you,” I say. “And then I heard that gunshot, and I decided it didn’t matter if it had come from you or not. I knew I had to get you away from him, and I knew that if you thought I was in trouble, you’d come running.” I brace myself, preparing for Blake to scold me.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” he says. He turns to my father. “Did you bring him here?” he says.

  “Fletcher? No. I barely know him,” my father says.

  “Why is he here?” Blake asks. “What are you planning?”

  “He wants to buy me out,” my father says. He gets up and walks over to the bar to pour himself another drink. “He offered me three times what I paid. And that was just his starting number. He seemed eager. I’m guessing I can get him to double his offer.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Blake says.

  “It’s just business,” my father says. “Plus then I wouldn’t be burdened with worrying about your success. It’s good to be back from the dead. Would you like a drink?” he asks. I wonder if my father is more pleased at the look of confusion on Blake’s face or the fact that I asked him to help me trick Blake. Either way, he’s crowing. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink? You might need one.”

  “We should go,” I tell Blake.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” he says.

  “If I hadn’t screamed, what would have happened?” I ask. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re in jail.”