“You know you’re silly, Gavin.”
“No, I’m not. What I am is lucky to have found someone like you.” Gavin winked at Celia. “I’m going to walk Terry. It’s not too early to train him to do his business outside.”
“Be careful with him, Gavin.”
He gave her a level look. “Lighten up, baby. You’re going to wind up turning Terry into a punk.” He dropped a kiss on the terrier’s head. “Come on, Bruiser. If left up to your mama she’ll paint your toenails pink, tie a matching bow around your neck and instead of calling you Terry, you’ll answer to Theresa.”
“I’m not kidding,” Celia said to Gavin’s broad back when he turned and walked out of the bedroom.
Sitting on the bench at the foot of the canopy bed, she exhaled an audible breath. She had the house, the dog and before the end of the week she would marry a man who had her craving him as if he were a controlled substance.
Chapter 17
Gavin turned his SUV onto a private road leading to Cole-Thom Farms. Nicholas Cole-Thomas had warned him that the horse farm was like a fortress, and judging from the cameras and security checkpoint Gavin knew Celia’s brother wasn’t just blowing smoke. Stopping at the checkpoint, he nodded to the man in the booth. A high-powered rifle in plain sight was a definite deterrent for anyone attempting to bypass security.
A man who wore every year of his advanced age on his face slid back the window in the air-cooled booth. “May I please see your driver’s license?”
Gavin reached in the rear pocket of his jeans where he kept his license, placing it in the outstretched hand, while strategically positioned cameras recorded his and Celia’s image along with the vehicle’s license plate.
They’d gotten up before sunrise because Celia wanted to be on the road before rush-hour traffic. He’d loaded Terry in a crate, placing him and his doggie supplies in his SUV’s cargo area. Once he’d loaded their luggage, they headed for the interstate highway. Gavin stopped once they crossed the state line from North Carolina into Virginia where he’d ordered breakfast to go, because they didn’t want to leave the puppy in the truck with the rising temperatures.
“Follow the signs, Mr. Faulkner,” the guard said, smiling and handing Gavin his license.
Gavin returned his license to his back pocket, shifted into gear and continued along the newly paved road. Towering trees stood along the roadway like sentinels. The mowed grass reminded him of baseball fields. “How big is this farm?” he asked Celia.
“Nicky said it’s about almost four hundred acres. He claims it’s much smaller than some of the other farms in the area.”
“The landscaping is impeccable. It must take a week to mow the grass.” He pointed to his right. “Look over there, baby.”
Celia caught her breath when she spied several mares with their young. The sunlight shimmered on their deep red coats. “The foals are adorable, but I still don’t want any part of them.”
Gavin slowed to five miles an hour when he recognized what appeared to be a gray Arabian stallion racing across the meadow at breakneck speed in pursuit of a mare that kicked up her hind legs whenever he got too close.
“Isn’t that just like a woman?” he said. “Why is she playing hard to get?”
Celia noticed the stallion was aroused. “Maybe she’s not in estrous.”
“I’m willing to bet she is or he wouldn’t be all over her. See, I was right.” At that moment the mare stopped and permitted the stallion to mount her. Gavin gave Celia a sidelong glance. “One of these days we’re going to try that position.”
She was saved from replying when a trio of chimneys came into view. As Gavin maneuvered up an incline, Celia gasped when she saw the three-story antebellum great house at the end of a live oak allée. A full-height, columned porch wrapping around the front and sides of the magnificent Greek Revival mansion made her feel as if she’d stepped back in time. When Nicholas talked of spending most all of his inheritance to start up a horse farm she’d thought him frivolous, but he’d proven her wrong.
Her smile was dazzling. “It looks as if my little brother is doing the damn thing.”
Gavin shook his head in awe. “Nice.” He maneuvered around to the rear of the house where sedans and SUVs and pickups were parked.
Celia was out of the truck as soon as Gavin cut off the engine. Arms outstretched, she met her brother when he came forward to meet her. “You fooled me, Nicky,” she said, kissing his cheek.
Nicholas’s dark eyes swept over his sister. She looked wonderful, and there was no doubt her bodyguard was just the medicine she needed to heal from the ordeal that had turned her life upside down.
“What are you talking about?”
“You told me you bought a little place in Virginia, while most of your money went into buying horses.”
“The house came with the land. It was abandoned and dilapidated and I spent more renovating and trying to restore it than I did buying horseflesh. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Parris buying furnishings at wholesale I probably would’ve declared bankruptcy.”
Celia’s smile turned into a scowl. “You know you could’ve come to me if you needed money.”
“No, I couldn’t. Remember, you needed your money for that free clinic you planned to open in Miami.” Reaching for her hand, he squeezed her fingers. “Do you intend to go through with your plans?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ve decided not to return to the hospital.” It was a decision that hadn’t come easily for Celia, but she knew she would never be able to walk into the E.R. without reliving the trauma of that fateful night.
Nicholas glanced over his sister’s head to see Gavin approaching with a dog on a leash. “We’ll talk later.” He offered his free hand. “Welcome to Cole-Thom Farms.”
Gavin shook his soon-to-be brother-in-law’s hand. “Thank you. This place is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he said modestly. “And I want to thank you for convincing my sister to come for a visit.”
Celia rolled her eyes at Nicholas. “If you’d told me it was like this I would’ve come sooner.”
“I tried to tell you, Cee Cee, but you wouldn’t listen.” He bent over and patted the terrier’s head. “Hello, handsome. There are some dogs around here that would be glad to show you the lay of the land.” Nicholas straightened. “Is he old enough to mate?”
“No! Terry’s still a puppy.”
Nicholas exchanged a look with Gavin, who lifted his shoulders. “That’s what I thought about a stray runt until he got one of my bitches pregnant.”
“That’s not going to happen with Terry,” Celia said, “because I plan to have him neutered.”
“You will not take his manhood,” Gavin stated emphatically.
“Did I say something wrong?” Nicholas asked.
Celia glared at Gavin. “No, but Gavin did. Do you have any idea of the number of stray dogs that are put down each year because people don’t neuter or spay their pets?”
Nicholas preempted Gavin from answering. “You two must be exhausted after the drive. Come inside and let me show you to your rooms. If you brought a crate for the dog with you, then he can stay in the room with you. Otherwise, you can board him with the other dogs, all of which have had their shots.”
Gavin spoke first. “He can stay with us tonight. Tomorrow he’s going to have to hold his own against the big dogs.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about him,” Nicholas said over his shoulder as he led the way around to the front of the house. “Terry may decide that he prefers living on a horse farm to hanging out in the mountains or in Florida.”
Celia wondered if Nicky was referring to himself. He preferred breeding horses to working for ColeDiz. And yet, no one would ever question Nicholas’s business acumen. He’d become a master when it came to negotiating a deal.
The day he’d exchanged his custom-made tailored suits, imported footwear and expensive sports cars for jeans, boots and a pickup was the day Nicholas Cole-Thomas had found hi
s niche. Her brother, four years her junior, had established himself as a breeder of note within Virginia’s horse country, while she’d floundered in an attempt to find her own professional footing.
Celia knew the shooting had changed her life; however, she’d allowed it to slow down her life. She’d vacillated about whether to return to the hospital or follow through with her plan to open the clinic. Gavin coming to live with her represented a return to normalcy, while she was reminded that she’d spent much too much time alone.
Marrying a stranger was anything but normal, but she realized that she was more comfortable living with Gavin than she had ever been in her three-year relationship with Yale. Gavin respected her personal space and the time when she preferred being alone to do the things she liked doing. But then when they did come together to cook, eat, watch a movie, play a board game or take a walk, she knew she’d found her soul mate.
Wiping her feet on a mat inside the entry hall and walking into the living room, Celia stared up at the massive crystal chandelier suspending from the ceiling rising more than twenty feet above a parquet floor bordered by an intricate rosewood inlaid pattern. Twin curving staircases leading to the second story were a scene out of Gone with the Wind.
She recognized her great-aunt’s decorating trademarks with a collection of candlesticks on the fireplace mantel, the elegant fabrics on love seats, sofa and chairs and the collection of framed prints featuring horses.
“This is more than I ever could’ve imagined.” The only house she’d seen that was comparable to Nicholas’s house was the one her great-grandfather had built for his wife and children. The twenty-four-room West Palm Beach mansion overlooking a lake was filled with priceless artifacts and had become nothing short of a showplace.
“Amen to that,” Gavin said.
Nicholas stopped at the staircase. “I can’t take any of the credit for what you see. My great-aunt designed the rooms, her daughter Regina the gardens, and another cousin who’s an architectural historian selected the antiques. Everyone asked if I was going to give the house a name, so I decided to call it Cole House because it was Cole women who did what they do best.”
“They sound like incredible women,” Gavin said.
Nicholas gave Gavin a long, penetrating stare. “You should know that firsthand. After all, you’re marrying one.”
Gavin returned the stare. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
Celia’s gaze shifted to Nicholas, then Gavin and back to her brother. “Please don’t start that male posturing nonsense or there will be no wedding.”
Nicholas waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Cole women give their men a lot of lip until they become mothers. After that, they go into ‘yes, dear’ and ‘no, dear’ mode.”
Gavin winked at Nicholas. “That’s something I’ll keep in mind.”
Celia folded her hands at her waist. “Nicky, why do you always want to start something?”
“Love you, too, Cee Cee.” Turning, Nicholas made his way up the staircase, Celia and Gavin following. “I’m putting you in the west wing because the sun doesn’t reach that section of the house until late morning. I’m at the opposite end in the east wing.” He opened a set of double doors and then stepped aside. “You have a bedroom, private bath, sitting and dressing area. There’s a wet bar in a chest in the sitting room and if you need anything let me know and I’ll have someone bring it to you.”
Shifting Terry to his left hand, Gavin wrapped his right arm around Celia’s waist. “Celia and I would like to take you out for dinner tonight. That is, if you don’t have any other plans.” His fingers tightened on her waist.
“Please say yes, Nicky,” Celia chimed in as if she and Gavin had discussed it beforehand.
Nicholas reached for the cell phone attached to his waist. “Let me make a call first.”
“Why don’t you have her join us,” Celia said perceptively, “unless you don’t want me to meet your girlfriend?”
“Peyton’s not my girlfriend.”
Celia’s eyebrows shot up. “Her name is Peyton?”
Nicholas angled his head. “Her father wanted a boy. I’ll call and let her know we’re going to have company.”
“What time do you want us to be ready?” Gavin asked.
“Seven. See you guys later.”
Celia waited for her brother to close the door before glaring at Gavin. “Let me give you a word of caution, Gavin. Please don’t get into it with Nicholas, because he likes nothing better than verbal confrontation. And, he’s not above backing it up with his fists.”
“Stop trying to protect Nicholas, Celia. He’s not your little brother anymore. In case you’ve forgotten he is a grown man.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “You’re right, m’ijo. Nicholas doesn’t need me to fight his battles. Just take a look at this house, the farm. My younger brother has succeeded when most of us believed he would fail.”
“Did anyone tell you that you couldn’t be a doctor?”
“Not really. But, it was my older brother, Diego, who always had my back.”
“You don’t have to have your brothers’ protection, m’ija. Now that’s my responsibility.”
A beat passed as Celia stared at the man with whom she’d fallen in love. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”
There came another pause. “You just don’t know how serious I am,” Gavin said. He approached Celia, handing her Terry. “I’m going down to the truck to bring up his crate before he ruins your brother’s priceless Persian rug.”
Turning on his heels, he walked out of the bedroom suite. Gavin hadn’t lied to Celia. He’d promised to protect her and he would—with his life if the situation called for it. He would forfeit his life because he’d fallen in love with her.
As ordered, he’d called his supervisor to let him know he was in Virginia. Mac informed him there still was no further communication from Raymond Prentice, but if the undercover agent did contact the Bureau, then a jet would be standing by to fly Gavin back to a North Carolina regional airport or private airstrip.
Come on, O, call me. He felt that if he’d mentally willed it, then his brother would contact him. He wanted to bring Raymond Prentice in, and then concentrate on trying to make his marriage to Celia work without a list of conditions.
Celia waited for Gavin to fall asleep before she slipped out of bed, dressed and tiptoed out of the bedroom. Terry, curled into a ball on the fleece mattress in the crate, was also sleeping. The bedroom she’d been assigned overlooked a beautiful English garden. It’d been Christmas when she last saw Regina Cole-Spencer. The landscape architect and her pediatrician husband had traveled from Brazil to Mexico to spend time at the home that had once belonged to Regina and Aaron’s father, before they came to West Palm Beach to celebrate Christmas with the ever-increasing Cole clan.
Walking along a stone path, she stopped under an archway covered with climbing pale pink roses. The plantings were mixed, roses set among perennials, presenting a riot of color. She continued, smiling when seeing a wooden fence with a doorway that reminded her of one of her favorite books—Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden.
Suddenly it hit Celia. She didn’t want to be married in a cold, sterile courthouse with a clerk officiating at what was to be one of the most important days in her life. She wanted a minister or a priest to marry her and Gavin in her brother’s garden.
From her second-story bedroom window she was able to see the half a dozen cottages where full-time, permanent farm personnel lived with their families, a larger building that was the mess hall and in the distance, the stables where the horses were bedded down for the night. She knew that horses were social animals and were kept outdoors during the day to graze and run to release pent-up energy. She’d noticed men on horseback and others in pickups patrolling the property. All were armed with either handguns or rifles.
Celia bumped into Nicholas as she walked into the large, ultra-modern kitchen. “I was just coming
to ask you something.”
“And I wanted to give you this.” He handed her several pages. “They came in on my fax machine.”
When Celia had called her attorney to let him know she needed a prenuptial agreement, he suggested faxing the papers would be quicker than sending them overnight. She had to call Nicholas to get his fax number. “That’s the prenup I asked my lawyer to draw up for me.”
The nostrils of Nicholas’s thin nose flared slightly. “You know this is a first, Cee Cee.”
“What are you talking about, Nicky?”
“You’re the first Cole to have a prenup.”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“Whose idea was it?”
Celia bit her lip. “It was Gavin’s. He was the one who suggested a prenup.”
Nicholas narrowed his gaze. “What’s the matter? The two of you don’t plan to stay together?”
Reaching for her brother’s hand, she pulled him over to a stool at the cooking island. “I have something to tell you, and if you repeat it then I’m going to jack you up, Nicholas Bennett Cole-Thomas.”
Nicholas gave her an incredulous look. “Damn, Cee Cee, it must be serious if you’re calling me by my full name.”
“This is serious, Nicky.”
He sobered. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Celia told him everything from her initial meeting with Gavin to their decision to make their farce of a marriage legal. What surprised her was that Nicholas’s impassive expression did not change.
“What, no comment?” she taunted.
Nicholas threw up his hands. “What do you want me to say, Celia? When a man proposes marriage, it usually means he’s tired of chasing skirts and wants to settle down and have a family of his own. Consider yourself blessed, because you’re getting someone who’s willing to commit without feeling as if there’s a noose around his neck. And I really admire the brother for suggesting a prenup, but something tells me you’re not going to need it.”
“What makes you think that?” she asked.
Breakaway Page 20
