The Texas Billionaire’s Bride

by Crystal Green

  He laughed softly. Was it her imagination, or did he seem relieved at how she was laying all the cards out there?

  “I wasn’t planning on this, either,” he said. “Even though I was thinking about it quite a bit.”

  She tested him with a glance. He’d curled an arm over his head while fixing his eyes on the ceiling. He’d hardly gone back to the cold man she was afraid would return. No, he actually seemed relaxed, with a slight smile on his mouth.

  The best man she would ever get, she realized, and she would have to give him up.

  Why hadn’t she thought this through way back in the study, when they’d still been kissing?

  Her libido answered: because you were swept away, missy.

  “I never believed it would be a smart plan to get this close to my boss,” she said. “Any boss.”

  “Generally, it’s not a good idea. Believe it when I tell you that I’ve never overstepped like this before, either.”

  “I do believe you.” And it made what she had to say all the tougher. “Zane, this has to be just a one-time event. I wouldn’t call it a mistake—not remotely—but the last thing Livie needs is a more complex home life to deal with.”

  She wanted to take it back; then again, she knew she wouldn’t, even if she had to do it all over again.

  There was no future at all, she reminded herself. Not if she wanted to outrun what she’d left behind.

  “You’re right,” he said, still watching the ceiling. “One time will have to keep us.”

  When she rolled to the side to see him better, her heartbeat stumbled. His expression had become almost…vulnerable. More open than she’d ever seen it, even though he was watching the ceiling and not her.

  Then something flashed over his expression, altering it enough to make her wary of what had no doubt just gone through his mind.

  After another moment, he sat up, the sheet bunched around his hips as he reached toward a nightstand, then opened the drawer to bring out a small box.

  When he turned to her again, he’d gone all the way back to normal—the closed-off man she was so used to.

  She missed the other guy already, she thought, running a wistful gaze over him. But she had been the one who’d chased him off.

  Again, she got after herself for not thinking about the consequences from the very first. Too impulsive. Too taken in by how he owned her when he was near.

  But she wouldn’t fool herself into thinking that she’d rocked his world so hard that he’d forgotten all about Danielle.

  The wounding thought gave her pause.

  Was it possible that, by cutting off a relationship before it had really even started with him, she was also protecting herself from the heartbreak she knew would be in store?

  Turning that over in her mind, Melanie sat up, too, pressing the covers against her chest. He was holding a black jewelry box etched with fancy lettering.

  “I bought it the other night—and you can bet it wasn’t from the McCord franchise.” He was so serious. So Zane Foley. “It was a whim, really, along with the wardrobe and the makeover. I was going to put it in your room before you left.”

  Jewelry…?

  Why was he giving this to her right now? she wondered, not taking the box.

  A heaviness descended within her as she remembered Livie’s dolls. A guilt gift?

  Was he pushing her away, too, but in his own manner?

  As he cracked open the lid, her hand whipped out to shut it. She wasn’t going to take any expensive presents from him, especially after they’d just been together.

  “Zane, I can’t accept this,” she said.

  “Melanie…”

  Then he seemed to realize the more tawdry aspects of what she might be thinking.

  “Oh, damn,” he said. “You know, I’m not paying you off or…”

  He shook his head and, cursing, got out of bed, as if he needed that distance.

  She told herself to avert her eyes as he sought his trousers, then stepped into them, zipping them up. She didn’t want to get revved up again, losing her common sense just as she’d done earlier.

  But she could still see him in her peripheral vision. Actually, she couldn’t bear to not see him.

  He set the box on the mattress and went for his shirt, putting it on and buttoning it, clearly burying himself in the clothing. “I was waiting out the first fifteen minutes of your personal shopping when I saw what’s in that box. It made me think of you. So I bought it before I came to sit with you and Livie in the boutique.” His voice got huskier than ever. “It’d look just right on you, Melanie. Just right.”

  What could she say? In spite of her refusal, he was still offering her this gift, but she wasn’t sure exactly why.

  Confusion wound through any of the responses she should be making, tangling them so badly that she couldn’t pick anything out.

  Taking care of his last shirt button, he moved toward the door, but when he got there, he rested his hand on the knob before opening it.

  “By the way,” he said, “maybe you and Livie can just go ahead and stay a few days more. But it’s not because of what…just happened…of course.”

  “Of course not,” she said, finding her voice.

  “Because there can’t be a second time.”

  “Right.”

  He nodded, then left the room, stranding her with whatever was in the box.

  Had he been distancing himself in a very Zane Foley way, while brushing her off?

  Or maybe, just maybe, had his gift meant more, and he just had no idea how to give it?

  With a trembling hand, she pushed the lid up, and the sparkle of a diamond bracelet hit her full force.

  Disbelief overcame her first.

  Then breathlessness at receiving such a present.

  How many times had she dreamed of a better life? Not necessarily this much better, but for a girl whose biggest encounter with decadence came in the form of rhinestones, this was flabbergasting.

  But didn’t he realize that he’d already made her feel on top of the world without any gifts? That just being with him gave her a glow that no diamond could compete with?

  She wished he were still in here so she could thank him, yet reiterate that she couldn’t accept such a present from him or anyone else.

  But if this really was a heartfelt offering, wouldn’t it be bad form to give it back?

  Would it be like a refusal of him?

  Since it was likely that the only way Zane even knew how to express himself was through dolls and shopping sprees and jewelry, she wasn’t sure what to do.

  But he’d asked her and Livie to stay longer, and maybe she could figure it out with the extra time.

  Yet, even if she did accept the jewelry, or the cosmetics and spiffy clothes she’d been given at the makeover, she knew nothing could change who she’d been.

  It wouldn’t make her suitable for Zane Foley, even if in her heart, she knew there couldn’t be any other man who fit her so perfectly.

  Days passed, and Zane found that it was easier than usual to spend time with Livie after his hours at the office. As a matter of fact, his daughter had ended up lingering for more than just a few days; one had stretched into another, and it’d gotten to the point where Zane didn’t even mention their staying longer anymore. It just happened on its own.

  He’d even started to think that, when it finally came time for them to go, it wouldn’t be easy.

  Then again, neither was being around Melanie.

  She hadn’t been wearing the bracelet he gave her, and she told him once, when they were alone, that she appreciated the bracelet, but that donning it right now wasn’t appropriate.

  He wasn’t sure what that meant, but then again, they hadn’t been alone long enough for her to explain. In fact, they’d only been together that one night, yet he couldn’t forget how he had gone from pure happiness at making love to her, to something else entirely.

  And that was why he’d given her the bracelet, he thought
a few days later, as he, Melanie and Livie took a stroll through the neighborhood while the sun dipped its way to dusk. He wanted to thank her for giving him even an hour of forgetfulness and then letting him off the hook as far as a commitment went because, honestly, he hadn’t wanted one.

  Yes, he had flashes of wondering what it might be like as he’d joined with her, moved within her, but when he’d come back to earth, he knew it couldn’t last. He wasn’t very good at relating such matters with words, although he had meant the gift with all of his soul. He’d wanted to see her eyes shine, wanted to show her that she was worth diamonds and jewelry.

  Unfortunately, she had misinterpreted his gesture at first, but now he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d had it all figured out: a diamond bracelet had been the best he could do in a world where he couldn’t allow his heart to be touched by anyone, ever again.

  Now, as Livie wandered ahead with Melanie to a walking trail that wound through pine trees, he took what he could from the time he would have left with his daughter and her nanny.

  It would have to be enough.

  Livie scampered up ahead to investigate some stones, leaving Melanie between her and Zane; he slowed down, hanging back, just watching, not getting too close.

  Maybe that was because of the anniversary, though, he thought. Danielle’s death.

  Only two days away.

  He leaned against an oak tree, but the bark felt rough against his business shirt. With every hour that counted down to Danielle’s day, he felt that much more abraded.

  “Ms. Grandy?” his daughter said as she used her long summer shirt to hold a few stones.

  “Yes, Livie?” Melanie peered over the girl’s shoulder, seeing what she was doing.

  “Don’t look, okay?” His daughter smiled, her eyes lively as she hid the stones from her nanny. “I want to make a castle for you.”

  Zane’s heart swelled at Livie’s apparent joy. They had Melanie to thank for bringing them so far along.

  Yet he knew that there were still miles and miles to go.

  Playfully, Melanie walked away from Livie, her hands up as if in surrender. And as she came near him, he thought how there were also miles and miles that stayed between him and so many things.

  He tried to strengthen himself against the temptation of her, concentrating instead on how the trees smelled in the warm air, how a breeze rustled the pine needles. But nature was hardly enough to keep him from thinking about her body, naked and lean, perfectly formed and so alive under his hands as he’d slid them along her.

  Quivers vibrated in his belly, inviting the blood to rush downward.

  He resisted, though, still musing about those trees.

  Not that it did any good.

  She smiled almost shyly at him as she approached, and Zane did the same. But when she got about five feet away, she stayed there, just as if there was a bubble of tension between them, and it was filled with every memory of a caress, of what they’d said to each other, of how she’d touched him….

  “Thanks for coming with us,” she said, clearly opting for a neutral topic that wouldn’t shatter the bubble.

  “Livie seemed excited about the prospect.”

  “She insisted on waiting until you got home.”

  This was prattle, and it unnerved Zane.

  He looked too long at Melanie’s inquiring gaze, and he could tell that there was something else she wanted to talk about.

  Should he ask?

  Dammit, there was no way he could tolerate himself if he continued to practice avoidance, as he had before Melanie had come along. Before his relationship with Livie had started to improve.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  She gave him a “nothing big” glance, and he motioned for her to come out with it.

  “You’re not going to want to hear,” she said.

  “I’m sure I’ll hear it anyway at some point.”

  He laughed a little, and she did, too. Maybe sleeping together had done something for their working relationship.

  As well as for him.

  Trying not to put too much stock in that, he said, “Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me, then I’ll decide if I should’ve heard it or not.”

  “Okay then. It’s about…” She folded her hands in front of her, nervous tell. “Livie’s mom.”

  Zane felt punched, but he didn’t want to show it.

  He wouldn’t be able to duck any questions from Livie, either, because it was only natural for his daughter to be asking more of them, now that she was getting comfortable around him.

  Melanie continued, keeping those few feet away from him, and he thought that it might be because of the subject, not just him.

  “Livie was asking again about things Danielle enjoyed,” she said. “I think she wants to imagine what it might’ve been like to have a fun day with her mom.”

  He might as well give up a tidbit, so they would be satisfied for the time being. “Danielle was a homebody most of the time. She would’ve liked teaching Livie to make cookies or play the piano. But when she went out, she might’ve taken her to a park over near White Rock Lake, where there was this little place called the Wishing Bridge. She would’ve brought a picnic, just like you do with Livie.”

  He hadn’t meant to compare Melanie and Danielle; it’d just come out, and the aftermath was like recovering from another slam from an invisible fist.

  She must’ve felt it, too, because her face reddened.

  He wished he could brush the embarrassment away, make her feel better. He even wished he could tell her that, out of everyone in this world, she was the closest Livie had ever come to a mom.

  But he didn’t. Neither Livie nor he could survive another Danielle.

  “Six years ago Saturday,” he said instead, creating more distance, “Danielle died.”

  Melanie blinked, as if taken off balance.

  Why had he said it? Because he needed to keep that bubble intact between them?

  She kept her hands folded in front of her. “Livie doesn’t know about this anniversary,” she said.

  “No. I never wanted to put that on her.”

  “Zane…” Cutting herself off, she glanced at Livie, who was choosing more rocks to put into the scoop of her shirt. Then she snagged his gaze. “Zane.”

  Her voice was softer, with a hint of emotion he wished he could connect to again, yet, with Danielle’s name filling that bubble with so much, there was no chance.

  Melanie seemed to realize that as she went on. The sadness in her usually sparkling eyes told him so.

  “Don’t you think,” she said, “that Livie might be getting old enough to take a day when she can remember her mom? Maybe not this anniversary—not yet—but even on Danielle’s birthday, which I know you don’t acknowledge, either?”

  “Stop it, Melanie.” His voice was harsh, guarded.

  “Zane, please, I’d like to take her to that park on Saturday, to that bridge, where she can be with her mom, and if she doesn’t know why, that’s okay. Can’t you see how badly she wants to be with Danielle, even if it’s only in a place her mom used to love?”

  Rage—not at Melanie, necessarily, but at everything else—blinded him.

  “Can’t you see that she’s better off without Danielle?” he asked in a crushed whisper.

  She got that fighting look about her again—that chin-up, David-against-Goliath strength.

  “No one is better off without their family,” she said quietly. “Take it from me. You’re doing her no favors by never talking about her mother at all.”

  Zane’s anger filtered out everything but the “take it from me” part.

  It occurred to him that Melanie didn’t talk about her family much at all. Sure, she had done so during her second interview when he’d pressed the issue, but even back then he’d noticed a cautiousness that came along with her answers.

  She seemed to realize it, too, veering back to the subject at hand.

  “Please, Zane,”
she said.

  He was still simmering, but underneath it all, he had to admit she was right.

  He hadn’t merely been withholding himself from his daughter, he’d been keeping her mom away from her, too.

  But what would it do to Livie when she found out just how bad off Danielle had been? What would she do when she realized that her mom’s worst days had come after childbirth, which had seemed to drive her into a dark place—for which she’d taken stronger mood stabilizers—a place that had consumed her when she’d become too confident about her “wellness” and secretly gone off the meds that had been prescribed when she’d gotten worse?

  The more you keep from Livie, he thought, the more she’s going to want to know.

  Yet, his daughter didn’t have to know everything, did she? Not even when she was older. But for now, maybe it really would benefit her to get acquainted with the woman Zane had loved.

  He warmed slightly to the idea—as much as he could.

  This trip to the bridge didn’t even have to include him. In fact, it wouldn’t, because he would have no part of a day that marked the discovery of his wife in the bathroom, lethal pills spilled over the tile next to her slumped body.

  He made himself forget.

  “I won’t go with you,” he said, “but you can take Livie to that bridge Saturday.”

  Melanie nodded, as if knowing he didn’t have it in him to change all that much.

  “Thank you,” she said. “And if you decide that you want to come, too, we’ll be there.”

  We’ll be there.

  He didn’t answer, but then again, he didn’t have to, as Livie called to Melanie to come see the stone castle she’d built. A structure that would probably crumble all too soon.

  Melanie didn’t prepare for Danielle’s anniversary until that Saturday morning, when the sun didn’t shine as brightly as usual.

  It was only after she’d garbed Livie in a pretty sundress, combed out her wavy hair for a pair of pigtails and driven her to Crane Park, that she told the child just where they were going—but not why.

  Yet, even then, she hardly trusted her voice to hold itself together as they walked over the grass toward a quaint wooden bridge etched with dove carvings.