She bathed and perfumed before slipping the pajamas over her bare skin. No bra, no panties. She wanted to make this as easy for Jace as she could. A moment later, she heard the automatic garage door. Racing down the stairs, she waited across from the door he would enter to take his briefcase.
She smiled when he looked a bit confused. She took his case and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. “Welcome home, darling. Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t I get you a drink, and you can change into something more comfortable.”
“What’s all this?” He held her away from him for a moment and smiled. “Mind you, I’m not complaining.”
“We have the house to ourselves for the evening, so…” She smiled with what she hoped was a seductive look. Shit. She’d never been any good at this.
Jace pulled her into his arms again. “So you’re seducing me?”
She leaned her cheek against his chest. “Is it working?”
“Yes. Pour me a scotch. I’ll get a shower and be right back.”
Stacey was elated. Maybe now they could get things going so she would finally feel like she had a marriage. Although they had been man and wife longer than either of her brothers had been with their spouses, Stacey often felt clueless when it came to her marriage, particularly whenever she and Jace were around the rest of the family. She had done everything her parents had asked, so why was this still so difficult?
But now things were changing, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, Justin Worthington had been a big help. She would have to find some way to say thank you. She reiterated that thought when Jace entered the living room clad only in a pair of sleep pants hanging low on his hips. She couldn’t believe how receptive he was being to her overtures, so different from the times early on in their marriage when she had tried something similar. It was as if he’d become a whole new man ever since Brandon’s wedding. Stacey could only thank her lucky stars.
Dinner went splendidly, Jace even feeding her bites of dessert and leaning in for kisses in between. When they left the table, he grabbed her hand as she headed for the living room.
“Let’s go upstairs, darling,” he murmured.
Yesss! Stacey returned his grip with a soft squeeze.
* * * *
Mason had taken clients to dinner. After dropping the couple at their hotel, he had decided to stop at a bar not far from his penthouse on the way home. Not in the mood for company, he’d found a quiet corner in the back where he could observe people going in and out. It was right after ten when he saw Justin Worthington walk in–alone. He had seen the man several times during the week, each time either in the company of Jason Winchester or Stacey. Did this mean Stacey and her husband were actually spending time together?
Mason swirled the bourbon in his glass, his brows drawing together as he tried to force away the image of the two of them. Did she do the same things with Winchester she had done with him? He tossed the bourbon back, nearly choking. Imagining her with her long legs wrapped around her husband and her slender hips undulating against his nearly made Mason crush the glass.
“Would you care for another, sir?”
He wiped the frown from his face. The waitress had done nothing wrong. “Yes, thanks.”
He stared at Worthington. The man was engaged in conversation with another man at the bar. There was something in his manner that made Mason feel ill at ease. It was nothing he could put a name to, which bothered him even more. As he continued to watch the blond, it dawned on him that he resembled Stacey in a lot of ways. Both long-legged and lean, they also shared the same shade of hair. While Worthington’s eyes were green instead of gold, they also had the same angular features.
Whatever.
Mason shivered as he sipped the new bourbon the waitress had dropped at his table. A life on the streets followed by four years of exposure to the opposite end of the spectrum as a scholarship student at Harvard had left him with a very cynical view of society. There were dregs rich and poor, and their economic status had very little to do with the content of their character, to steal a line from a great American. Justin Worthington might not be the dregs, but he and Jace Winchester were hiding who and what they were. He wasn’t sure yet why, but he had a very strong suspicion–one making him half sick. When Worthington left a half-hour later, Mason slapped a couple bills on the table and followed him. From the shadows outside the Winchester brownstone, Mason watched the other man quietly let himself inside. Mason sighed heavily.
Maybe he was being paranoid. Hell, maybe he was turning into some kind of sick Stacey stalker because he sure as shit couldn’t get her out of his head. And now he had to wonder exactly what Justin Worthington was doing staying there.
* * * *
Stacey sat in the hot tub on the back deck, determined to keep the mood going. Jace had made love to her as usual. He had seemed to get satisfaction from their coupling, but she couldn’t say the same. Not that he would know. Stacey had gotten very good at making him think she was climaxing even while her mind detached from what was going on. He had his arm around her shoulders now, so Stacey snuggled a bit closer to his side. He rubbed her shoulder.
“Would you like a drink, darling?”
“Yes,” she murmured, “that would be nice.” He rose from the hot tub, not bothering to wrap a towel around his slender hips. He had a pleasing build, lean, not muscular like Mason, but still handsome.
Stop. Stacey didn’t want to think about Mason right now, but she realized every time her husband made love to her, she fantasized, remembering what it had been like with Mason. It was the only way she could make her “climaxes” realistic. With a sigh, she stared off into the darkness. This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be thinking about another man, a man she hadn’t been with for nearly two years. There must be something wrong with her. Jace certainly seemed to find their married life satisfying, so what was her problem?
Maybe she should consider seeing a therapist. Her mind cringed from the very idea. A Barlow-Barrett always keeps her private life private. Somehow, Stacey doubted seeing a shrink went along with that particular maxim from her mother.
She looked over at the French doors leading to the deck as she heard Jace return, then quickly sank lower in the hot tub, her eyes widening in shock. Behind her nude husband was Justin Worthington with only a towel tucked around his hips. Stacey’s glance darted from Justin back to Jace. She couldn’t very well ask what the hell was going on.
“Justin just got home, darling,” Jace told her with a smile. “I knew you wouldn’t mind him joining us. After all, we’re all friends, all adults.” There was an underlying tone telling her more clearly than words she was not to contradict him. And of course, how could she anyway? Doing so would create a scene.
Stacey swallowed and tried to smile. She wasn’t a prude by any means, and the bubbles hid a lot. She did, after all, owe Justin for his help. “Of course I don’t mind.” She hoped she didn’t sound as uncertain as she felt. “Please, join us.”
Justin eased in on her other side before stripping the towel from himself and letting it slap onto the deck. Now he was naked too. With her. With her husband on the opposite side–and her in the middle. Stacey swallowed, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable and not liking the situation Jace had forced on her.
“Thank you, Stacey,” Justin murmured. “Did you have a nice evening?”
Chapter 3
“Yes. Thanks.” Justin’s question served as a reminder, whether he meant it that way or not, she owed him for giving her some time alone with Jace.
“Here, darling.” Jace handed her a drink. “I made you a Cape Codder. I know how you like cranberry juice.”
She took the highball glass and drank. He eased back in beside her, leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed, darling. You’re lovely, but you’re my wife. Justin respects our marriage. He would never do anything we didn’t want him to.”
What an odd thing to say. Still, she nodded and took another gulp from he
r drink. She wanted to tell him how mortified she was that he would simply bring Justin out here without giving her a chance to put on any clothing. Screwing up her nerve, she opened her mouth to say so.
“Stacey has been such an incredible help,” Justin leaned forward to tell Jace. “We’ve got almost everything picked out for my place, so once the drywall is in, we can begin painting. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
She smiled, feeling a tad sick. This must be some alternate universe because it surely wasn’t the life Stacey Barlow-Barrett had been reared to live. She could almost picture the look of horror on her parents’ faces–probably all of her siblings as well–if they could see her now. When the two men tapped their glasses against hers and toasted her, she drank once again.
God, how could she protest when they were both being so nice? She would come off like such an uptight bitch. Instead, she listened as Justin told them where he’d gone to eat and the movie he’d seen. She continued to sip her drink, but then feeling a bit woozy, Stacey reached behind her to set the glass on the edge of the tub. When she nearly missed, Justin caught the glass and grinned at her.
“Oops! What did you do, Jace, make her drink a bit too strong?”
Stacey turned her head to look at her husband, who raised his brows. “I didn’t think so. You okay, Stacey?”
“Yeah. I guess I’m tired.” Maybe this was the way to escape.
Jace smiled at her. “I’ll help you to bed. Be a gentleman, Justin. Look the other way. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Her husband wrapped her in a towel and tucked one around his own hips, then settled his arm behind her back. “You sure you’re okay, darling?”
She nodded but regretted the action as her head swam a bit. “Yes. Maybe I had a bit too much to drink between dinner and in the hot tub. I’m so sorry, Jace. Don’t mean to embarrass you.”
“Shh. It’s all right. We had a good evening together. Just get some sleep.”
He dried her off and tucked her in. He’d never been quite so solicitous, and she was touched. Stacey stroked his cheek. “Did you enjoy the evening?”
He kissed her forehead. “It was wonderful. You’re wonderful.”
She smiled as she drifted off. Maybe she was worried about nothing.
* * * *
Stacey awoke the following morning with a hangover almost as bad as some of the ones she’d experienced in college when she had sown a few cautious wild oats. And God! She had dreamt the most bizarre things. She shook her head. A little sex and a little alcohol and she was absolutely done in. With a board of directors meeting at Barrett Newspapers on her agenda, she couldn’t do what she truly wanted, which was to take a couple ibuprofen and bury her head beneath the blankets. After showering, she felt a bit better, but was still vowing never to mix the variety of liquors she’d drunk the night before–wine with dinner, sherry afterward, and then the vodka in the drink Jace had made.
After wrapping her damp hair in a towel, she began slathering moisturizer on her legs, her movements slowing as she looked at the bruises on the inside of her thighs. She didn’t remember Jace being so rough while they’d made love. Fingertips brushing the marks, she shook her head. They didn’t hurt, and she supposed it had been worth it. Maybe now she could get him to focus on the sexual side of their marriage, on making babies and making her forget a dark-haired, dark-eyed man who’d made her body sing with passion.
They were just love marks. Jace had gotten enthusiastic–for a change.
Still feeling a bit rough, she took a cab to Barrett’s headquarters for the monthly meeting. Her father had stepped back into his role as chairman after a heart scare earlier in the year, so Seth would only be here today to attend the meeting, no doubt with Brandon’s proxy in his pocket since Bran was still on his honeymoon with Lucy. Stacey twisted her wedding and engagement rings. Maybe she could talk to her new sister-in-law about the bruises. Never one to have close girlfriends, Stacey suddenly found herself in need of some female advice, but the newlyweds wouldn’t be back for another week.
“Good morning,” Seth greeted her as she stepped off the elevator. He arched one thick, golden brow over keen eyes so similar to her own. “You feeling all right?”
Stacey closed hers for a moment and sighed. “I had a little too much to drink. Does it show?”
“No. It’s just I know you pretty well. Problems?”
“No, in fact I’d say the opposite.”
Seth smiled. “Glad to hear it. Tessa mentioned you seemed somewhat stressed at the wedding, but we had to leave before she could talk to you, so she could nurse the baby.” Taking her hand, he tucked it through his arm and walked with her toward the boardroom. “Mother thought you might be pregnant.”
“If you’re asking me, Seth, the answer’s no. If you want to know if we’re considering it, then the answer’s yes.”
His gaze was searching as he patted her hand. She was surprised when he didn’t greet her comment with assurances about how great that was.
“I ran into Jace at the club. He introduced me to your houseguest.”
“Justin’s staying with us while his condo’s being renovated,” she felt for some reason like she needed to explain. The whole time, an image of him sitting next to her in the hot tub burned its way through her brain.
“Mmm. Jace said the two of them were close friends. Had you ever met him before?” Seth’s questions seemed casual, putting her on instant alert. Seth never asked anything just to make conversation. He was perfectly content to be silent if he was in a good mood, or growl like the lion he resembled if he wasn’t.
“No. Justin said he’d been handling his family’s holdings in Australia, so he wasn’t here during our engagement or for the wedding.” She absently twisted her rings with her thumb.
Seth smiled and touched her cheek. “You know you can talk to me if you have any problems, Stace. That’s what big brothers are for. Next to knights in shining armor, we’re the number one dragon slayers.”
She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in a couple of weeks. “I love you, Seth.”
“Same here, kiddo.”
Stacey sat next to him during the board meeting, trying hard to concentrate on the treasurer’s report, but it seemed to her the comptroller droned on and on. She began to feel a bit like Charlie Brown listening to his teacher. Everything became a series of blah, blah, blah.
Along with everyone else, she voted her approval of her father’s return to actively run the company, and Seth’s resignation as acting CEO. She knew her brother was anxious to get himself and his family back to their home on the coast, back to the paper he’d had to leave in the hands of his small, but capable staff. She enjoyed the excitement of her interior decorating and design business, but sometimes she thought she’d prefer the quiet of a house along the bay, someplace where she could let her hair down and find out for once who Stacey Barlow-Barrett was.
* * * *
Jason started in surprise when Justin walked into his office, carefully shutting and locking the door behind him. He was even more surprised when he walked right around the desk, pulled Jace to his feet and kissed him. He responded, as he always did, but eventually pulled back enough to ask, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve found a doc in New York who will see you over the weekend.”
Jace shook his head. “It’s no use, Justin. Come on.”
Justin knelt in front of him. “Give it a shot, Jace. What can it hurt? It would give you a chance to have your own child.”
“I’m supposed to go sailing with Stacey.”
“Tell her something came up. This guy’s a male fertility specialist. He’s doing me a favor because he’s a friend of the family. You owe me this, Justin. You know I’m willing to help if I have to, but this might make it unnecessary. Please.”
Justin’s hands were moving along his thighs, making it difficult for him to think, making his heart pound with desire. How much easier would everything be if
he could manage to look his family in the eye and admit the love of his life wasn’t Stacey Barlow-Barrett? It wasn’t any woman. It was Justin Worthington and it had been ever since they’d first seen each other at summer camp when they were teenagers.
* * * *
Mason congratulated himself as he drove to his house nestled beside a quiet cove. He had gone an entire week without seeing Stacey. Oh, she’d been inside the gallery a time or two, but Mason had made sure he was occupied elsewhere–like in his office with the door closed–and had managed to avoid her.
Now he was going to enjoy the weekend. He’d spend the night in his house, then sail the dinghy around to the marina tomorrow morning. From there he’d take his big boat out. Maybe spend the night anchored in some isolated cove. He sighed in anticipation of the relaxation. He’d never sailed a day in his life until he went to Harvard, then in looking for a job that would allow him to earn some spending money, he’d landed a spot helping to crew for a weekend sailor. As soon as he’d seen the wind in the sails and felt the roll of the deck beneath his feet, he’d been hooked. It had taken some time to get his own boat, but he’d built his way up just like he had with his business, buying a smaller craft in need of restoration that he’d eventually sold for larger and larger vessels.
At the last minute, Mason changed his mind about the house and decided he’d head straight for the boat. Recalling how he’d gotten started sailing had increased his longing to simply do it. After a stop to stock groceries, he hit the marina right at dusk. As he made his second trip from his car to the boat, he glanced over at the next row of slips to the boat he knew belonged to Stacey. A light was on. Was she there with her husband? Somehow, he doubted it. He’d heard through Lucy and Brandon that Winchester wasn’t keen on sailing, although he did enjoy fishing, so apparently it wasn’t a seasickness issue.
Broken Heart Page 3
