The Honest Affair (Rose Gold Book 3)

by Nicole French

  “No, we don’t,” she replied thoughtfully. “But we do believe in grace.”

  Well, she had me there.

  At any rate, it was looking more and more like God has his own agenda when it came to vengeance against the sins of Calvin Gardner. Caitlyn’s revelations had turned into something of a domino effect. As she came forward, so did many of the women Calvin had trafficked and abused over the years. And they, in turn, pointed fingers at a number of prominent men whom Calvin had successfully blackmailed—including several U.S. attorneys and the judge originally presiding over his case. The trafficking ring case was reopened, this time as a federal investigation that could potentially land Nina’s ex transferred to federal prison for the rest of his life. Nina’s entrapment was also shedding a new light on things, and I’d already moved for a new trial of her case as well. We had high hopes for an acquittal—Cardozo had already told me he wouldn’t stand in the way.

  But it wasn’t until Calvin was finally locked up for good that I saw my girl really relax for the first time since I’d known her. The Nina I knew had always been graceful and gorgeous, but she was buttoned up tighter than one of my vests at Thanksgiving. I had seen glimpses of someone else more carefree and chased that woman for more than a year trying to tease her out.

  Now that chase was over. She ran straight into my arms on a daily basis.

  “I know what you’re doing,” I said as I drummed my fingers on the side of the wood.

  Nina blinked innocently, though her gray eyes sparkled with humor. “Oh?”

  “Oh?” I mimicked. “Do you really think that batting those eyelashes at me is going to get me to shove all my furniture into the one room in this house you’ve designated as mine, duchess?”

  Her sweet, soft mouth curved into a suggestive smile. “I don’t know. Is it working?”

  I slipped a hand around her neck and brushed her jaw with my thumb. Her scent of roses washed over me, along with the sweet taste of her breakfast—espresso and chocolate—along with the promise of something even sweeter sometime later.

  “How about now?” she murmured, her lips only a hair’s breadth from mine. Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear: “I promise I’ll thank you properly tonight. Or maybe this afternoon in the pantry.”

  Immediately, I stood up with intention. “Brandon, this is going upstairs to my office.”

  The big man just rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so whipped, it’s pathetic.”

  “Takes one to know one, my friend,” I told him. “Now, up we go.”

  Five hours later, Brandon, Nina, Skylar, and I relaxed on the back porch, enjoying a pitcher of ice-cold gin and tonics as a reward for moving in nearly everything in the small moving truck out front. In the yard, Olivia was happily playing with the other kids—Annabelle and Christoph, Skylar’s younger siblings, and Jenny and Luis, the Sterlings’ children. Every so often, a squeal would erupt from the raucous game of tag under the old willow tree.

  “So, what do you think, Zola,” Skylar asked. “Are you ready to convert and become a Bostonian?”

  I snorted. “Easy there, tiger. We’ve been here for literally a day.”

  “I don’t think Matthew will ever be able to root for the Red Sox, Brandon,” Nina said with a smirk. “He’s a Yankees fan, so far as I can tell.”

  “Well, ask him again after I take him to Fenway next weekend,” Brandon replied.

  “You can’t beat Yankee Stadium,” I countered. “I’m sorry, but it’s not possible.”

  The second Sterling had heard I’d lost my job, I’d gotten a call from Skylar insisting I come work for her. It had taken me a few months to come around on the idea (and yes, the promise of a very nice paycheck had helped). But what was I if not a to-the-bone New Yorker? What was my purpose if not to root out the poison in the city of my birth?

  But that wasn’t an option, at least not for a while. And I knew Nina wanted nothing more than to finish her degree in art history at Wellesley. So, I applied for a reciprocity waiver of the Massachusetts bar, finally allowed, and within a few months, I was officially licensed to practice in two states. I even allowed Nina to pay off the mortgage on the Red Hook house so Sofia and Frankie could have the place to themselves. It was a fresh start for us as a new family, beyond the shadow of the city. And one I had to admit would do us a lot of good.

  This mid-sized craftsman that was approximately one quarter the size of her penthouse. Which didn’t have a staff quarters or eight bedrooms or seven bathrooms or even a small percentage of the amenities Nina had grown up with.

  “It feels like a home,” Nina said again when I asked her why she wanted to live there instead of any number of mansions she could have purchased with the sale of the penthouse.

  And I, of course, loved her all the more for it.

  Before Brandon and I could continue our ongoing argument about which baseball institution was better, the sound of the doorbell filtered through the house.

  “I’ll get it.” I left my drink on the table and jogged back through the house to answer the door.

  “Hi!” Jane squealed, and tackled me with a hug as soon as I opened the screen door.

  “Hey.” I hugged her back, but then set her aside carefully. “Calm down there, sweetheart. You can’t shake the bun too much while it’s baking, you know?”

  About a month ago, Eric and Jane had announced their pregnancy. Now my friend was both expecting and about to start her own program at FIT. Eric just continually looked over the damn moon every time he looked at her.

  “This is a surprise,” I said as I shook his hand.

  “I felt bad we couldn’t help with the move,” he said. “But we brought a pretty good housewarming gift.” He gestured to the man in the brown suit. “Where’s Nina?”

  A few minutes later, we were all crowded on the back porch again while Thomas Clark, the estate attorney and executor of Celeste de Vries’s estate, introduced himself and proceeded to take out a large document from his briefcase and set it on top of the tablecloth. Jane looked like she wanted to explode from glee. Eric just kept shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it.

  “She did it to you too,” he said. “Just you wait.”

  “Did what?” Nina asked.

  “You’ll see, coz. You’ll see.”

  “First,” he said, “I have to apologize. This was a very unorthodox way of handling her trust, but Mrs. de Vries was quite insistent when she asked me to draw up her affairs.”

  Nina frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “There was another part of the will,” Eric supplied, almost as if he couldn’t help himself. “You’re getting more. So much more than you thought, Nina.”

  “Wait, what?” Nina stuttered. “I don’t understand. Mr. Clark, you told me that if my ex-husband and I split up, I would get nothing. My marriage was very important to my grandmother. She hated scandal of any kind.”

  “I said that if you separated from Mr. Gardner, your inheritance was to be frozen,” countered the lawyer. “And that there was nothing about your divorce in the document I gave you. I said nothing about this one, because it was to be kept secret until your divorce was finalized.”

  He pushed the document in front of us, and we both leaned over to read along as he intoned from a second copy.

  In the event that my granddaughter, Nina Gardner nee de Vries, divorces her husband before my original trust is probated, I wish to amend my original bequest to include the following:

  To Nina de Vries, my beloved granddaughter: exactly fifty percent of my personal stake in De Vries Shipping Industries, which at the time of this writing accounts for approximately twenty-four point five percent of the controlling shares of De Vries Industries, under the following stipulations:

  That she remain divorced from Calvin Gardner for the remainder of her life.

  That she assume an executive position within De Vries Industries and a position on the board of directors.

  That she maintains a perma
nent residence in New York City.

  If she fulfills the first obligation but chooses not to work for the company or live in New York, I instead bequeath ten percent of the company’s shares to do with as she pleases.

  By the time he finished, tears were streaming down Nina’s face, and she wasn’t making a move to stop them. Skylar and Brandon remained quiet, not completely familiar with all of the complex family dynamics that would have precipitated such a reaction. But Jane’s eyes were shining too, and Eric watched with satisfaction as his cousin received her due.

  “We wanted to tell you after the divorce,” he said. “But Thomas thought it would be better to add it to the probate proceedings. It was approved yesterday…so here we are.”

  Nina seemed to be having a hard time speaking. Or even moving, for that matter. Eventually, she was able to reach into my lap and took my hand.

  “She loved me,” she whispered, so low only I could hear her. “Matthew, my grandmother. She…”

  I squeezed back, then pulled her into my shoulder so I could stroke her hair. “I know, baby. She did love you. She really did.”

  “She wanted me to be safe,” she said. “She knew something was wrong with Calvin. So she protected me. She protected my future.”

  I said nothing, just stroked her hair. This wasn’t the first time Celeste de Vries had gone about protected her family by what struck me as fairly fucked-up, convoluted means. But I couldn’t doubt her motives. Not now.

  Nina sat up, wiping her eyes.

  “Mr. Clark,” she said. “Is there something I can formally sign renouncing my claims to the company position?”

  “Nina, are you sure?” Eric said. “You guys can stay in New York if you want. Zola could work at the company too. We’ll make it a family affair.” He reached across the table. “She never meant it to be just me in charge, don’t you see that? She wanted you there too.”

  Nina turned to me. The question in her eyes was clear: Did I want to stay in New York?

  Out in the yard, Olivia screamed with joy. Minutely, I shook my head. This was the right place for us, money or not. That hadn’t changed, even with the difference of a few billion dollars.

  Nina looked back at Eric. “I’m sure. We’re doing something important here, Eric. And the company…it was never my passion. Family was, you see. And Matthew and I need some time to build ours.”

  Mr. Clark pulled out some papers containing what looked like the transfer of ownership of stock into Nina’s name, along with another bundle in which she released Eric from any obligation to share company leadership with her. She signed her name with flourish, then accepted the copies of the documents and placed them neatly beside her drink. Outwardly, she looked calm and reserved again, but on top of the documents, her hands were slightly shaking.

  “The car will take you back to Logan,” Eric told Clark. “The helicopter is there on standby.”

  With a curt nod, the lawyer stood up. “Thank you, Mr. de Vries. Mrs. de Vries. It’s been a pleasure doing business with your family.”

  Late that night, I awoke to find Nina’s side of our makeshift bed—which as of now consisted of only a queen-size mattress on the floor—empty. Down the hall, I could hear a light snore from Olivia’s room. But my fiancée was nowhere to be seen.

  I got up and followed a distant light shining from downstairs.

  Nina stood in the kitchen holding a glass of water, a moonlit goddess in her satin nightdress, blonde hair flowing over her shoulders like water. I watched her for a moment, content just to take in her pure, unadulterated beauty.

  Then she turned. And set down her glass, then crossed the kitchen to me with purpose.

  Without speaking, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. Surprised only at first, I was more than happy to reciprocate, slipping my arms around her waist, then lifting her easily onto the counter that seemed to be built at exactly the perfect height for this particular activity.

  Her long legs wrapped around my waist, drawing me closer as she devoured me whole.

  “Matthew,” she breathed, like my name was formed by the shape of her mouth.

  She grabbed at the chain hanging over my bare chest, capturing the cross and San Gennaro medallion to pull me even closer.

  “Nina,” I responded as I drew my teeth down her shoulder. There weren’t any other words to say. We just needed each other, here in the kitchen. In the middle of this strange, moonlit night.

  She groaned as I bent to take one nipple, then the other into my mouth and suckled them straight through the satin. God, she was so lush. So perfect. So mine.

  Then her hands slipped down to free me from my boxer briefs, press me between her legs, and then urge me forward so I could slip deep inside her. Right where I belonged.

  Her teeth bit hard into my shoulder, and I bit right back into hers. Our bodies ground into one another as I thrust deeper, I didn’t have long. She didn’t seem to need much more either as I slipped a hand between us and pressed my thumb in concentric circles over her clit.

  Her nails clawed my back. I growled at the sudden bite of pain.

  “Fuck,” I uttered again and again as I pounded into her, demanding that she take every bit of me she could.

  But before a wail could escape her like a siren, I covered her mouth with mine, taking her ecstasy with a furious kiss of my own. Tasting her as I came. As we both fell apart together.

  I’d give her everything I had. It would never be enough. But I would always keep trying, and I’d be a happier man for it.

  “So, that was...unexpected,” I said a few minutes later as we recovered our breaths, standing side by side against the counters.

  Nina smiled through a waterfall of hair before she pushed it out of her face. She wore no makeup in the night, her hair tousled still from the late summer humidity, cheeks flushed from the heat and my attentions.

  She had never looked more beautiful.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” she said. “I just saw you…and I needed you.”

  “Been happening a lot lately, hasn’t it?” I asked, picking up her left hand and raising it to my lips. “You haven’t been able to keep your hands off me for the last month, doll.”

  Nina smiled shyly. “I suppose I haven’t. Though you haven’t been arguing.”

  “And I never will, baby.”

  “I was thinking,” she murmured as I continued to pepper her hand with kisses, “that we should elope.”

  I lowered her hand. “Come again?”

  “I know we talked about a large church wedding next spring, but I…”

  She took both my hands, flatted them palms up, and pressed her hands on top of them, as if measuring the area she could cover with her slender fingers. Then she took my hands, rotated them down, and pressed them into her body. Flat over her belly through the sleek silk fabric.

  I looked up. “Wait…are you…”

  “You can’t be truly that surprised. We have used protection sporadically at best the entire time I’ve known you.”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “Matthew,” she interrupted. “I’m pregnant. Are you…are you okay with that?”

  “Am I okay…” I drifted off, unable to do much more than repeat her words. “Am I okay…” I exhaled, long and low. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m…”

  Suddenly, I didn’t want any more distance between us than was strictly necessary. I pulled her tight against me, wrapping one hand around her waist, the other around the nape of her neck, to cradle her close.

  “I’m so fucking happy I can hardly breathe,” I whispered as I rocked her gently back and forth. “And I love you so goddamn much.”

  Nina sighed with clear relief. “Oh, Matthew. I’m so happy too. You have no idea.”

  Then she pressed her hands on my chest so she could lean back and look at me.

  “Please,” she said. “I want to start our family whole. We’re going to Tuscany next month anyway so Olivia can meet her sisters. Let’s do it th
en. Maybe in that little church in Vernazza. We can take your sisters and your grandmother and invite Eric and Jane. A few friends. Simple. Small. What do you think?”

  It wasn’t how I originally pictured it. I saw Nina in a big white dress, maybe at Our Redeemer, or if she wanted it, St. Patrick’s in midtown. A damn big affair, a way of announcing to the city that seemed to try to thwart us at every move: this woman is mine.

  But would an affair like that really be for us?

  Or would it be for everyone else, just like the way we had lived our lives for the past year and a half?

  “All right,” I agreed at last. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married next month in Italy.”

  Nina smiled, and her face lit up the entire room, brighter than any star in the night sky.

  “But you know,” I added. “That means I’m going to want to call you Mrs. Zola, doll.”

  “I don’t care what you call me,” Nina said as she touched her nose to mine. “As long as we’re honest about what we are. And as long as I’m finally yours.”

  THE END

  Want to read about Nina and Matthew’s Italian wedding? Check it out in the extended epilogue here: www.nicolefrenchromance.com/RGExtendedEpilogue

  To receive a first alert email about Frankie and Xavier’s story, click here: www.nicolefrenchromance.com/secretbaby

  While you wait, explore some of the other characters of the Rose Gold world.

  Read Jane and Eric’s story here: www.nicolefrenchromance.com/thehatevow

  A fast-paced, enemies-to-lovers, marriage-of-convenience romance!

  Start Skylar and Brandon’s story, FREE here: www.nicolefrenchromance.com/legallyyours

  A billionaire-student romance with a twist!

  Also by Nicole French