Just when he thought the answering machine would take the call, Jason answered the line.
“Winchester residence.”
“Winchester, it’s Mason Hatch. Sorry to disturb you at home. Something’s come up at the gallery concerning one of Stacey’s clients. Is she available?”
“We’re going away for the weekend, Hatch. I’m sure whatever it is can wait until Monday.”
Mason rolled his eyes, thinking quickly. “Normally, I would tell the client the same thing, but they’re leaving town this evening…”
“That’s too bad. Stacey left early, and I’m getting ready to follow her now, so you’ve missed her. I’d say if she’s not answering her cell phone, then she doesn’t wish to speak with you.”
“If you would let her know I called.”
“I’ll make it the very first thing when I see her,” was his sarcastic response. Winchester disconnected with a pronounced click.
“And fuck you too,” Mason muttered to the dead line. He recalled the way Worthington had rested his hand at her back and then on her arm at the restaurant last night. “Hell, what am I even worrying about? She’s probably getting ready to go away with both of them. Screw this.” Mason snapped his laptop shut and stepped into the outside office. “I’m done. If you wouldn’t mind, lock up, I’m going to spend the weekend on the bay sailing, fishing and knocking back a few beers, not necessarily in that order or priority.”
He’d put her behind him. He had to. His mind replayed the day she’d arrived and flashed the Winchester diamond in his face. He’d pulled her into another room and shut the door.
“What’s going on, Stacey?” he’d demanded, pointing to the ring.
She’d raised her chin, her ice maiden air firmly in place. “Nothing, Mason. I’m engaged…”
“The hell you are!”
“I’ve accepted Jason Winchester’s proposal.”
“You were dating him while you were screwing me?”
Her face had paled. The silence had dragged. “Yes. Jace and I have a lot in common. I’ve known him since high school.”
Mason had felt such fury he’d wanted to hit something. Hit her. He sucked in a deep breath as everything inside him twisted into a knot. He laughed with a bitterness he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“So what was I? The boy toy to play with until you found someone acceptable to Mommy and Daddy?”
She said nothing, simply raised her chin and stared at him from those golden eyes of hers–looking down her nose at him as she had the first day when she thought he was the delivery driver.
“Go to hell, Stacey.” And he’d walked away from her without looking back.
He wanted to do that again, but doubt still niggled at him.
* * * *
“Jace!” Justin protested. “You have to go after her.”
“She needs time to cool off.” The truth was Jace didn’t want to deal with this. He felt his world collapsing around him. For a short time, he’d thought he could have it all, a marriage that appeared to be happy and normal while he still maintained his relationship with Justin. His sterility had blasted those dreams out of the water.
He wasn’t ready to come out, but he knew right now, the chances of him staying in the closet were pretty well shot.
Justin grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to face him. “Jace. Enough is enough. This isn’t fair to any of us. You’re living a lie that’s eating away at you. Stacey’s clearly in love with Mason Hatch, so I’m not even sure why she’s in this marriage to you, and I just want to live my life with the partner I love.”
Jace blinked back tears. “She’s married to me because I blackmailed her and her family.”
Justin’s hands fell away and he stared at Jace. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“She was meeting Mason Hatch. We’d started dating, hadn’t discussed being exclusive, and I discovered she was screwing Hatch in some of her clients’ houses. At the same time, my anonymous hook-up was squeezing me, so I squeezed her. I got pictures of her and Hatch, threatened to make them public.”
“How did you expect to get marriage out of that?”
“They don’t know it was me. But I knew how her parents would react, how she would.” Jace felt tired, beaten. “Death over dishonor and all that. I popped in with an offer of marriage and I’m sure they saw it as a way to save face, a way to separate her from someone they would consider unsuitable.”
Justin spun away from him, stalking over to the window and staring out into the street. “What’s happened to you, Jace?” He swept his arm around the room with its antique furniture and Persian rugs. “The guy I fell in love with was happy with a fly rod and a flannel shirt. He wanted what I wanted–a life where we could be free to love each other. But this person you’ve become? I don’t know you. I don’t know this man who is so afraid to admit he’s in love with me, another man, he would resort to blackmail to hide it?”
“Justin–”
“No! I don’t want to hear anything else right now. I need some space.”
Justin grabbed his suit coat and briefcase and slammed out the front door. Jace stared at it, willing it to open again, willing Justin to come back in and tell him he didn’t mean it. But it stayed shut, and Jace’s world unraveled.
* * * *
It was only when Stacey pulled into the parking lot of the liquor store in Annapolis she realized she’d left Georgetown without her shoes. After putting the car in park, she leaned over into the back seat and found her deck shoes in her duffel bag. Okay, so she wouldn’t be making any fashion statement, but that wasn’t her purpose for this visit. She fully intended to buy a big bottle of bourbon and get as rip-roaring drunk as she could.
After all, this was a celebration. She’d married a man who would much rather spend time with his male lover than her. And wow, didn’t that take her self-esteem to new and unheard of lows. She walked into the store, heading for the bourbon section. As she scanned the bottles, her brows drew together. Who knew there were so many? She usually left purchasing booze to Jason or the housekeeper. And when Stacey did drink, it was usually wine or something after dinner. But this was a special occasion, and one she intended to do right. How many times could a woman honestly say her life was completely and totally fucked up beyond all recognition?
“May I help you, ma’am?” a man who looked to be in his fifties inquired politely.
“I need a bottle of bourbon.”
“Are you looking for something to sip or to use in mixed drinks?”
Hmm, now that was a question. She didn’t plan on mixing it with anything else, but she also wasn’t planning to sip it. Still, if she was going to get herself rip-roaring drunk, then it would have to be something smooth going down. “I need a good sipping whisky.”
“Let me suggest the Blue Silk. It’s a single barrel bourbon with a very smooth taste, but the price is reasonable.”
“Great,” Stacey replied. In truth, she didn’t care. She planned to drink it shot after shot. The only thing she knew about bourbon was Seth and Brandon both enjoyed it. If it was good enough for her older brothers, it was good enough for her. She paid cash, took the bottle in its brown paper bag and headed back to her car. She’d go to the marina, get on her boat, put her feet up and start knocking back the booze. She’d drink toasts all evening until she passed out. Here’s to the life that had led her to marrying a man who couldn’t give her an orgasm and apparently spent the few times he did fuck her fantasizing about his male lover.
Once on board, she set the bourbon on the counter in the galley, then stripped off her suit right there, slipping shorts over her lacy briefs and pulling a t-shirt on without bothering with a bra. She didn’t even want to think about her body but couldn’t help it. Tall, slender with small boobs. Had Jason only married her because she wasn’t the typical curvy female? Had she reminded him of a boy? Had she reminded him of Justin?
When a soft sob escaped her, Stacey grabbed the bourbon bottle
and headed topside. Curled in the stern of the vessel, she opened the bottle and tilted it back, not even bothering with a glass. Just so she wouldn’t completely forget all her mother’s Barlow-Barrett strictures, she held her pinky out from the neck of the bottle.
“There, Mother, see how correct I still am?” Stacey tipped the bottle back and swallowed another mouthful of the liquor, expelling a sharp breath. As the sun began to set, she considered the idea of trying to find some dinner, but she was too drunk to go anywhere and knew the only thing on board were some crackers and Cheese Whiz. She glanced at the marina office. She might not be able to drive anywhere, but she could at least grab a snack from the machines. Stacey stumbled below deck and dug out some change, laughing when quite a bit of it bounced over the floor. She’d clean it tomorrow.
Getting off the boat wasn’t as easy as it usually seemed. For some reason, the dock and the boat were moving more than normal and it took her several tries to get her legs coordinated with the whole idea of stepping off the deck and onto the dock. Stacey stumbled a bit, laughed and headed to the snack machines.
Shit. When she drew close, she could see Mason standing at the ice machine. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…” she muttered.
Mason turned. “She walks into mine,” he finished. His gaze traveled over her from head to toe. “Jesus, Stacey. I’ve been trying to find you all day.”
She weaved slightly as she concentrated on putting her money in the coin slot. “Here I am.”
Mason stepped over to her side. “And you’re drunk, honey.” He looked toward her boat. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the beach? Is Winchester with you?”
“No.” She gazed at him, with narrowed eyes, trying to make his blurring face steady. “You’re so handsome, Mason. Why didn’t I marry you?”
“Now, that is the question of the year. Where’s Jason, honey? He shouldn’t let you wander around in this condition.”
Stacey waved her hand. “I don’t want to discuss him.” She tried desperately to focus on Mason’s face. “Would you like to come over to my boat for a drink?”
“Oh, I suspect you’ve already had enough for the two of us. Why don’t I walk you back? Is Winchester already there?”
“Not coming.” Stacey laughed, finding the double entendre immensely funny. Jace truly wasn’t coming as far as she was concerned. After seeing him with Justin today, she realized Justin had been Jace’s fantasy every time he’d made love to her. She stopped abruptly, and Mason nearly ran over her. Swiveling her gaze sideways to peer at him, she demanded. “Do I look like a boy?”
He looked confused. “Not at all.”
“Do you like men too? Is that why you fucked me?”
She could have sworn she saw Mason’s Adam’s apple bob a couple times before he pulled her face against his broad chest and tucked her body close to his. “Oh, baby! Is that what this is about?”
The dam finally broke. Stacey clutched Mason’s shirt in her fingers as her hands clenched and unclenched. She couldn’t even feel any embarrassment when the first sob finally escaped as a whimper. “I saw them,” she mumbled. “Justin and Jason. They were in Jace’s study…”
“Shh. Don’t think about it, Stacey. Not now. I’ll take it to mean you’re on your own here?”
She nodded, but then quit when her head spun uncomfortably.
“Come on. Just lean on me. I’ll get you back to your boat.”
When he lifted her easily on board then jumped in beside her, Stacey murmured in protest. “I’m too heavy.”
“No. In fact, you’ve lost weight. Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”
She watched him move around the galley as confident as if it were his own boat, and in a matter of minutes he had a bowl of soup in front of her with some cheese and crackers to go with it. She watched him while she ate and realized he was watching her as well, his muscled arms across his chest. After eating most of what was in front of her, she felt physically better, but her thoughts tortured her.
“I thought he was being nice, you know, inviting his friend to stay with us while his condo was being renovated. But the whole time…” She gulped, stared at the table. Finally she could stand it no longer, she looked at Mason and whispered, “Make love to me, Mason. Please. I feel…” She couldn’t go on. At the moment, she couldn’t even process how she felt–Dirty? Used? Humiliated?–maybe a combination of all of those.
Mason leaned over, took her hand in his and gently stroked her palm with his thumb. Her mind immediately compared the hard feel of his hands to the softness of her husband’s. She wanted to plead with Mason again to make love to her, make her feel like she was a woman someone would want. His gaze was on their hands. When he finally lifted it to her face, his voice was a soft rumble of sound, “I would like nothing better than to take you back in your cabin, strip off your clothes and make love to you from now until Sunday afternoon.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “But you’re not going to, are you?”
“No. Not because I don’t find you one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met.”
Stacey snorted.
“Don’t, Stacey. Don’t be so hard on yourself because one man is more attracted to his best friend than to you.” He carried her hand to his lips, kissed it then simply continued to hold it in his firm grasp. “I won’t make love to you tonight because right now you’ve had too much to drink and you’re upset. When we make love, honey, I want it to be because we can come together as equals, happy about what we’re doing and why–not because you need comfort.”
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Please,” she whispered. “I need this. Don’t you understand? I walked in and saw another man giving my husband a blowjob! You have no idea how I feel.”
“Don’t do this to yourself, Stacey. He’s not worth it.”
“He’s my husband.”
“You’re right,” Mason said. “And if I did what you want, it would be the very thing you said you wouldn’t do–dishonoring your marriage vows.”
“He did it.” A dull headache began behind her eyes and she rubbed her temples in exhaustion. “Why did he even marry me?”
Mason stood and tugged her to her feet. “Come on. You need to sleep. I’ll stay with you until you do, okay?”
Stacey rested her forehead against his neck. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
* * * *
After she’d slid her shorts off, he helped her into bed, covering her and then stretching out next to her. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. In fact, as the warmth of her lissome body reached out to him, Mason decided he had to be a complete masochist. She watched him from her golden eyes, and he stroked the tangled hair out of her face.
“Go to sleep, honey.”
Between the booze and her emotions, Stacey’s lids drooped in pretty short order, but even after she fell asleep, he stayed with her.
How the hell had they gotten to this point? All he’d ever wanted was to make her his. Now she was married to a man who–at best–was bisexual, and Mason had doubts about that. He also had concerns he hadn’t even shared with Stacey. She was simply too drunk to hear it. But they would discuss it in the morning, once she was sober and aware. Something wasn’t right, and he feared Jason had his own agenda for ensuring he had a child, a downright insane agenda. No way could he spring that scenario on Stacey in her present state. She was already teetering on the edge of hysteria.
At last, once the marina had settled into silence for the night, Mason touched his lips to her cheek and slid quietly from the bed. She moaned softly in her sleep, her seeking hand going to the warmth he’d just vacated.
Enough. He had to leave. No way in hell would he endanger her reputation. God knew he’d seen how vulnerable her family was to attacks by rival media. Brandon and Lucy had been proof plenty. Mason would not be the cause of something similar happening to Stacey.
* * * *
Jace had waited i
n his study throughout the afternoon, drinking scotch and watching the room gradually darken without either Justin or Stacey returning. He had already given the servants the day off, thinking they would be going to the coast, so the house was silent and oppressive. Bracing his elbows on his desk, he buried his face in his hands.
He needed Stacey as a cover. If he could produce one child from their marriage, he’d bear the censure a divorce would bring. Didn’t Justin understand a child was his ticket out of town? He could leave, join Justin on the ranch and no one would give it a second thought because he would already have done his duty, already have supplied an heir to the Winchester name. Even if the child couldn’t be part of him, it could be part of Justin.
But for any of his plan to work, he had to have Stacey back. Somehow, he would have to convince her it was all a mistake, just the heat of the moment. She was key because he knew she would protect whatever child came out of their marriage. She would see the baby was raised as it should be.
Jace leaned back in his chair, poured one more scotch and sipped. He knew where he could find her. She would run to her boat. He’d given it to her for their engagement, but right from the start, he’d been jealous of any time she spent on board. It was her sanctuary, and first thing in the morning, he would talk to her, convince her to come back. She was his wife, damn it, and she owed him some loyalty, some forgiveness.
Who was he kidding? She wouldn’t come back willingly, but there had to be some way to make this work.
Chapter 6
She had expected her dreams to be filled with images of Jace and Justin, if she could sleep at all, but it wasn’t the case. Mason filled her slumber with his smooth voice and dark eyes that never seemed to miss a thing. He had been kind. It was something she wouldn’t have attributed to him, although he had certainly shown kindness to Lucy when the media had come after her and Brandon. There had never been time in her relationship with Mason to see a gentler side of him.
She stretched, blinking at the first light of dawn coming in through the window.
“So you’re awake. Did your lover tire you out?”
Broken Heart Page 8
