“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Grey. When it’s all said and done, you two were still getting to know each other. You’ve had your share of barracudas, brother. Just look at Pricilla. More than one woman has been after your money before. It’s natural to think the worst when it’s all you know.”
He knew Cade was just trying to placate him. It wasn’t helping. Greyson knew better than to take the word of his family, especially Preston. But instead of letting Blaise explain things, he was an ass to her. If she went back to New Zealand to help him, Greyson was determined to bring her home again. To him.
“I’m going to make arrangements for a flight.” Greyson picked up the phone only to be stopped by Cade.
“I got it covered.” Cade shrugged when Greyson eyed him suspiciously. “I know people. We can have a private plane within the hour.”
“Cade?” His best friend since childhood stopped before exiting the office. “Thanks for this.”
IT WAS A long flight of Greyson prowling the aisle, trying to come up with any and all possible scenarios that would be responsible for taking Blaise away from him. The company wasn’t important to him, and if he hadn’t been such an asshole, Blaise would have known that. Instead, it’s quite possible Blaise was in a bad situation because of him. The only explanation he had for his behavior was that he had been in complete shock upon learning Blaise’s identity. But you did know her, he thought with self-deprecation. You knew, and you chose to accuse her anyway.
“Stop beating yourself up, brother. We’ll find her, and get this shit all straightened out. Then you’ll get your girl back.” Cade was reclined in the plush, cream-colored seat, eyes closed looking completely relaxed. Flying private obviously agreed with him.
“What if she doesn’t want to be back with me? I fucked up, man. I wouldn’t blame her…”
“I’ve seen you two together, Grey. It’ll be fine. Besides she can’t really condemn you for being confused about the situation.”
As much as Greyson wanted to argue, he knew Cade wouldn’t change his mind. Letting it go, he sank into the chair opposite Cade, and tried to relax a bit.
“I think I should do the recon when we get there,” Cade continued, taking a pull from his bottled water.
“No.”
“Grey, if she’s at the estate…”
“If she’s there, I want to see her. I want to see her face. I don’t think she left because she’s pissed at me. Not anymore. But I need to know for sure. And, I want her to know she doesn’t have to be there.”
“And, if there’s a chance that she doesn’t want to see you?” Cade raised a hand before Greyson could respond. “I’m not saying there is, but you know better than anyone to be prepared for anything.”
“I am prepared, Cade. I’m prepared to fight for her if I have to. Whatever the situation is, I’m ready.”
FOR ALL OF his bravado, Greyson’s palms were sweating as he stood before the Clark Estate. He knew in his bones that Blaise was here. He just wished he knew how she would react to seeing him after three months. Striding to the door with a boldness born of years in the military, Greyson pressed the doorbell and waited.
The heavy, intricately carved door opened after a moment, revealing a slight, older woman dressed in a drab gray servants outfit. “Yes, may I help you?”
“Good afternoon. I’m here to see Blaise Knight.” Greyson kept his tone light. He flashed a grin, hoping it was amiable.
The woman frowned slightly, surreptitiously taking him in, making him glad that he had opted for a slick business suit. He knew families like this. Appearance meant everything, and an Armani suit would get him further than his preferred jeans and t-shirt.
“I don’t believe Ms. Knight is expecting anyone.”
Greyson smiled wider. “Of course. I was in the neighborhood, so to speak, on business. Blaise and I are old friends, and I thought I’d surprise her with a visit while I was in the country.” The story spilled out of him with ease. Being special forces taught you to always think on your feet.
The older woman hesitated again, before finally nodding. “Please come in. Visitors were not expected, so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait here.”
“Not a problem.” He watched her staunchly move away, and then took in his surroundings. Not with a critical eye, but a soldier’s eye. He noted where the foyer fed into a stately living space directly ahead. To his right, double doors closed to what he could imagine would be a study. Not the main office of the household, but perhaps where quick meetings would be held, or the morning paper would be read. To his left, an archway led into a sitting room that wasn’t so different than the one in his old home.
Greyson’s eyes began to roam the second floor when he heard a gasp.
“Greyson?”
Even whispered, his name sounded like heaven from those lips. Lips that seemed faded now, set upon a pale, gaunt face with whiskey eyes that had severely dulled. He noted the dark rings under Blaise’s eyes, though she tried to hide the weariness beneath make-up. Despite the sadness that radiated from Blaise, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Greyson took a step towards her, and he saw the spark ignite in her eyes before they became wide, and she shook her head.
The fear he saw gave him an overwhelming urge to rush to her, and carry her out of that place. But, even though the spark gave him hope, her closed-off stance had his feet planted to the floor. She had lost weight, her arms wrapped around her as though protecting herself. What the fuck is going on here?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, prompting Greyson to actually open his mouth and say something.
“We need to talk. Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more private?”
“I don’t…”
“Blaise, darling?” Though the words were genial, the tone was cold enough to bring a frost to the air. “I didn’t know you were expecting company.”
A dignified man in his fifties, if Greyson was judging correctly, edged up to Blaise. Greyson wanted to snap the arm that snaked around Blaise’s shoulders possessively in half. Or perhaps rip it clean off, and beat the pompous fucker with it.
“I wasn’t, Vincent. I had no idea Greyson was even in New Zealand.”
So, this was Vincent Scott. Greyson was not impressed. The man’s salt and pepper hair—more salt than pepper—was thinning, and he held a paunch of someone who did more sitting behind the desk than getting out and being active. He saw an almost imperceptible flinch from Blaise, and took another step towards her. Again, she shook her head with fear, but only enough for Greyson’s benefit.
“I’m afraid we aren’t prepped for company. Perhaps next time you could call if you plan to visit.” Vincent’s snide remark was lost on Greyson. He only had one thing on his mind. Blaise.
“I apologize for just dropping by like this,” Greyson responded, never taking his eyes off Blaise. “I do hope you’ll grant me a moment of your time since I’m only here for a couple of days on business.”
The disappointment, coupled with the watery shine of unshed tears in Blaise’s eyes were almost his undoing.
“Blaise is overtaxed as it is, Mr. Steele. I must say, she has taken a very keen interest in our upcoming wedding. Almost to the point of exhaustion.”
If it weren’t for his extensive training, Greyson’s poise would have crumbled then. She was marrying this asshole? No. That’s not possible.
“I promise I won’t take up too much of Blaise’s time,” Greyson stated, glad that his voice didn’t betray the turmoil inside. “I merely wanted to bring her news from the states regarding her goddaughter.” Unfortunately, he knew this would cause Blaise more panic, but he was getting desperate to get Blaise alone.
Blaise’s left hand fluttered to her chest, and Greyson was crushed to see a huge rock adorning her finger. “Jessie? Is she okay?” She pulled away from Vincent. “I’m just going to take Greyson to the gardens, and see what he has to say.”
“You will use the study since h
e’s only going to be here for a few minutes,” Vincent ordered.
“Vincent, I’ve been cooped up all day. I could use a moment of fresh air.”
Vincent’s nostrils flared, and Greyson readied himself to attack if the bastard so much as raised a finger to Blaise. The dickhead placed a hand on Blaise’s upper arm. Greyson’s hands curled into tight fists when he saw Vincent squeeze. He had to hand it to Blaise, she seemed to be keeping her composure better than he was.
“Very well. Don’t be long, darling, and don’t go too far. Remember you have obligations that are counting on you.”
“I remember,” she said quietly before gesturing for Greyson to follow her. She led him through the living space, and out an enormous sliding glass door. Much to Greyson’s disappointment, the gardens were right off the stone deck, and Blaise didn’t go much further than the third bench that lined the walkway.
Unable to hold back anymore, Greyson finally gave voice to the question that burned to be released. “What the hell is going on, Blaise? You’re marrying him?”
“Is something wrong with Jessie?”
He frowned in confusion, then remembered his story to get her alone. “No, she’s fine. I was just trying to get you away from that asshole. What the fuck, Blaise?”
“I don’t have time to explain everything, Greyson. Just know that I have no choice.”
“You do! If this is about the company, you don’t have to do this. I left. I’m out. I don’t care what happens to it. Especially not at your expense!” He stepped towards her, and growled when she took a step back.
“Please don’t. You don’t understand.” Her eyes darted all around them as though she were waiting for someone to pop out from the rose bushes.
“Then explain it to me, doll.” His heart softened when her eyes fluttered shut at the endearment.
“I don’t know what to say to you to make you understand all of this. There’s no time.”
“Come with me. You don’t have to marry him.” Greyson fought down the bile at the thought of her in the other man’s arms. Becoming his wife.
“I do!” she whispered harshly. “He…”
“He what?”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Doll, Cade is with me. Don’t forget we spent years in the special forces. Vincent doesn’t scare me.”
Hope lit in her whiskey eyes, making them brighter. She glanced around her again. “Please, help me.”
The words were barely spoken, but his heart heard them as if she had screamed them at him.
“Tell me how, doll,” he implored, hoping the continued use of his pet name for her would make her feel more comfortable with him.
“He has her.”
“Who, doll? Who does he have?”
“My daughter.”
Greyson froze. Did she just say her daughter? He had told Cade he was prepared for anything, but how in the fuck could he ever have prepared for this?
“Daughter? When…”
“I can’t explain,” she whispered. “There’s no time, and he’ll be sending someone out here to collect me soon. He’s holding her somewhere, but I don’t know where. I have to marry him before he brings her to me.” Blaise was trembling violently, as though saying the words out loud took everything out of her. “Find her. Please help me.”
Greyson willed his brain to start working again. She had a daughter? None of this was making sense. But there was no doubt that Blaise was terrified. She was but a shell of the woman he fell in love with. Yet, he still felt that love as strongly now as he did before she left.
“Give me something, doll.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “He shows me video. I think I recognize the room she’s in, but I’m not certain.”
“You’ve been there before?” It amazed him how calm he was. Finding out the woman you love has a secret daughter, and is about to marry a man she is clearly afraid of, should cause at least some alarm. But he found himself wanting nothing more than to help Blaise get out of this nightmare. Answers would come later.
She nodded slightly at his question. “I think so. When I was young we used to have family get-togethers at the lake. I don’t know whose place it is,” she said, scrunching up her nose in concentration. “It wasn’t father’s because it wasn’t on my list of properties. But it has to belong to someone in the family if that’s where they’re keeping her.” Blaise’s voice wavered, and Greyson could see her fighting to keep her composure.
“What lake, baby? Do you remember?”
“Lake Wakatipu.” Her mouth clicked shut when she saw one of the servants walking towards them. “I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
She looked him in the eye, and Greyson saw the depth of her sorrow in that one glimpse. Then she was gone. He watched her hurry inside, kept watching until she disappeared behind the doors of what he instinctively knew was her personal hell.
Daughter. In a daze, he wasn’t sure how he made it back to the car where Cade was waiting.
“Grey?”
Snapping fingers brought him out of his shock.
“What the hell happened in there, brother?”
“She has a daughter,” Greyson stated simply, though there was nothing simple about it.
“A daughter? Fuck, man! How the hell didn’t you know that?”
“Action now, questions later, Cade. Gist of it is, they’re holding her daughter until Blaise marries that fucking prick Vincent Scott.”
Cade’s jaw dropped. “Brother, our missions in the military weren’t as convoluted as this!”
Greyson agreed silently. “Fuck all of it is, I think Blaise is in a state of shock herself. She’s not herself, man. I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but we’re sure as hell going to find out.”
SEEING GREYSON SHOOK her to her core. For three months she had barely been surviving. Only the hope of seeing the daughter she thought was gone to her forever kept Blaise going. That, and the one other thing she couldn’t bear to tell Greyson. She was startled out of her glum thinking when she felt Vincent’s cold hand grasp her arm rather harshly.
“How dare you defy me in front of that man!” he demanded, practically dragging her towards the sitting room. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing,” she spat angrily. “I don’t know anything!”
“I don’t believe you.” He shoved her onto the sofa, and stood menacingly over her. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him, she wasn’t. Blaise was more than confident that she would be able to hold her own with him. What she was afraid of is what he would do if she fought back too forcefully. She couldn’t risk her child. The only hope she had now was the belief that Greyson would help her, and she would be out of this hellhole soon.
“I can’t help what you believe. You haven’t told me where my daughter is. You’re keeping her from me to break me.” And, you almost succeeded, she added silently.
“You would have come in here or the study if you had nothing of importance to say to your former lover,” Vincent argued, not answering to her accusation. “You’ve left me no choice.”
Dread spread through her like a flame, burning her up from the inside out. Did she do something that would keep her daughter away from her forever? Or worse? “What do you mean?”
“We are to be married by the end of the week,” he said, ignoring her question. With an irritable wave, he got the maid’s attention. “Have word sent out that Blaise and I will be married by week’s end.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.” The woman bowed slightly before scurrying away.
Blaise hopped up. “That wasn’t our deal! I have another month!”
“I would have thought you would want to see your kid,” Vincent remarked snidely.
She did. Oh, God, she did. Blaise needed to know Piper was really real. She had seen all of the documents, but knew all too well that being a lawyer, Vincent could have forged them. Even so, Blaise couldn’t deny that the girl looked just like her. If this was a hoax, they had done a fine job f
inding a young girl, giving her the name Blaise had given her child at birth, and making everything look perfectly legit.
When she had first landed in New Zealand, she had hoped—and even prayed—that Greyson would come looking for her. Every day, Blaise waited for that big, ugly door to burst open with Greyson demanding Blaise come with him. Then she would worry about what to tell him about Piper, then she would worry what would happen to Piper if Greyson did show up. It was all a bit disorienting to have such a conflict of emotions going through her on a daily basis. However, as the weeks passed, her hopes dwindled until they disappeared altogether. Vincent had mocked her, telling her obviously Greyson didn’t love her in return, then he would tease her with short videos of Piper. He would, however, never allow any kind of contact between mother and daughter. Contact that Blaise craved desperately.
Today, her hope was rekindled when Greyson showed up. She couldn’t get married! All she had to do was stall Vincent’s not-so-unfounded paranoia somehow to give Greyson time to locate Piper.
“We’re also getting rid of that godawful name.” Blaise’s unfocused eyes became sharp again at the words. Vincent tended to be long-winded, and Blaise had learned how to shut him out. She was doing a good job until she heard ‘godawful name’.
“Excuse me?”
“Blaise.” Vincent’s face was pinched with disgust. “I will not marry a woman with that name.”
“So find another victim,” Blaise retorted. “Give me my daughter, and let us go.”
“Nice try, Olivia,” Vincent scoffed, using one of Blaise’s middle names. “What on earth were your parents thinking?” he muttered as he paced the room. “Oh, and Piper will not work either.”
“That was my mother’s middle name,” she whispered heatedly. Please, Greyson. Hurry.
“I don’t care. It changes. Those juvenile names would have been fine with that Steele character, but not here. You need to be sophisticated to be with me. Olivia and Rose Scott.” He nodded sharply as though he were satisfied with the sound of the names.
Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book Page 31
