by Liz Ireland
She rolled her eyes.
“Let’s sleep on it tonight, Jayde. We’ll see how you feel in the morning, okay?”
She waved a hand at him. “Okay, you’re right. They are tired. I should let them sleep. But I don’t think I’ll feel any different in the morning, Brad. I need to tell them—they think they’re going to be grandparents for crying out loud.”
“I know. But do you think you could hold out until after I take them on the yacht tomorrow? I did promise them.”
She pulled back a bit. “You did? When?”
“Well, I promised your father. When your mother was in here with you, I took your father out to see the yacht, trying to distract him from worrying.”
Her expression softened. “That was sweet of you.”
Brad grinned. “I told you not to let that get around.”
She relented even more. “Well, all right. I’ll wait. Since you went to all that trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. But I was hoping you’d join us.”
Jayde sighed. “All right. But then I’m going to tell them.”
“Okay. Oh, I forgot. You also need to wait until after we go into St. Armand’s on Friday. They want to check out the shops and pick out some things for your brothers and sisters. I’d hate to ruin their excitement over that excursion.”
“Okay. After that.”
“And of course, you mean after your father and I golf on Saturday and then we all eat supper at the Longboat Key Club, right?”
Jayde made a tsking sound. “Well, that’s only the whole weekend, Brad. I’m not sure I can keep up this pregnant charade that long. Besides, the truth will seem particularly cruel after that many days of pretending otherwise.”
He didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at her, his grin pleading. She caved. “Oh, all right. After supper Saturday night. Or maybe the next morning. Unless there’s more?” Her eyebrows were raised in a questioning challenge.
Happy that he’d gained a few days’ reprieve—and thinking it smarter at the moment not to mention her alleged gallery show on Sunday—Brad smiled. “No. That’s it.” He stood up, holding a hand out to her. “Come on. I know you have to be tired, too. Why don’t we get some sleep?”
Looking suddenly weary, which only made Brad’s heart go out to her all the more, she allowed him to assist her in standing up. Her hand in his felt small and vulnerable. “You’re right. I am tired.” She gave him a nudge. “I understand that’s part of my delicate condition, tiring easily,” she teased.
“If you say so,” Brad said, shrugging. “I’ve not been around that many pregnant women.”
As he led her out of the bathroom, he knew he sounded cool and collected on the outside. But the truth was, on the inside he was coming apart. Or maybe it was that he was coming together for the first time in his life. He couldn’t say. And what he was really wondering was…how the hell could he be feeling this proud and protective toward Jayde when they were just pretending she was carrying his child? He couldn’t believe how suddenly and strongly he wanted it to be true, that she was his wife and this baby was theirs.
He stopped and turned to her, staring into her dark-brown eyes. She too seemed to be aware that something special was happening here. Brad just had to know. Was he in love with her? Or was he enchanted with the notion of finally having a family? He thought back to other women he’d had relationships with. If one of them had told him she was carrying his child, he would have been far from happy. But not with Jayde. Here he was—ecstatic, playing the charming host, and actually planning a holiday for complete strangers, not to mention an art show for his wife.
Brad chuckled softly. Well, son of a gun.
“What’s wrong? Why are you laughing?”
“I’m not laughing. I’m just…amazed, is all. Truly amazed.”
“At what? That we’ve pulled this charade off so far?”
Brad grinned. “Sure. Okay.”
Then her eyes went wide with alarm. “Brad, I never put away my easel and paints from this afternoon.”
Brad put a hand to his chest. “You scared the hell out of me, Jayde. I thought something was wrong.”
“It is. My painting!”
He rubbed her arms reassuringly. “Hey, it’s okay. I had Lyle put everything away when we went out back earlier.”
She slumped against him, her forehead against his chest. “Oh, no.” She looked up at him…and Brad’s heart danced. “I mean, thanks. But still, it’s ruined, I’ll bet. All that time out in the sun. And here it was shaping up to be one of my best ones so far. What did you think? Did it look okay to you?”
To his own credit, Brad was able to adopt a considering expression. Of course, the truth was…none of her paintings were okay. But knowing that, his heart softened all that much more toward her. Poor Jayde. She really can’t do anything right. It didn’t seem fair, somehow. “Yeah,” he finally said, and meaning it on some level. “It was fine. More than fine. Maybe you can find time to finish it by Sunday.”
Her expression fell. Brad wanted to kick himself. Now he’d done it.
“Oh, no. The gallery showing.” She pulled away from him, turning her back and rubbing her forehead. “What are we going to do?”
Brad focused on her slender shoulders, her dark hair, her defeated stance. He ached for her—in the purest possible sense, he convinced himself—and it made him mad that she doubted herself. “I’m going to pull it together. Dirk owes me a huge favor. He’ll do it.” Jayde turned to him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Which gave Brad the courage to continue. “We can do this, Jayde. But there wouldn’t be much sense if you’re determined to tell your parents the truth.”
Jayde clutched at his arm. “You’re right. I can’t tell them now, can I? Oh, Brad, this is so awful. I’m trapped by my own lies. I just wanted to help them. And now look at this mess.” She blinked rapidly and her chin quivered.
Was she trying to hold back tears? Brad was certain he’d die if she cried.
“Brad, I need your help. My parents are so excited and so proud of me. It’s all I ever wanted. And this is the first vacation I’ve known them to take in years. I just can’t ruin it for them by telling them the truth right now, can I?”
“No, you can’t,” Brad heard himself saying…and meaning it.
She let go of his arm and stepped back, now chewing distractedly on her thumbnail. “But if I don’t, I have to pretend I’m pregnant. And I have to have a gallery showing of my work.” Her eyes widened. “Who will come to it? No one. How embarrassing. I told Mom and Dad I’m earning a reputation in the art world. And then nobody shows up. How would that look? I couldn’t bear it.”
Brad ran a hand through his hair. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her. “But it will be well attended, Jayde. I swear it. I’ll call my friends and associates. I’m sure they’ll show up—and they’ll buy.”
Jayde’s sense of dread seemed to intensify. “Oh, Brad, no. That wouldn’t be fair. It’d be enough if they’d just show up and mill around smartly, looking interested. Please don’t ask them to buy anything. I couldn’t sleep unless I knew they actually liked my work and bought it because they truly wanted it. That’s important to me. Do you understand?”
He nodded, knowing in his heart that no one would ever willingly buy one of her works…no one who didn’t love her, that is. He smiled, his heart warming. “All right, Jayde. I understand. I’ll have Mrs. Chavez come up with some killer hors d’oeuvres for the occasion and we’ll all just see what happens. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds wonderful,” she said softly, suddenly reaching up and stroking his cheek. Brad was sure his heart had stopped beating all together. “Just like you. Thank you, Brad, for being so kind to my parents. And for going along with everything. You’re such a good sport. And a wonderful man. Do you know that?”
“Of course he does. He programmed me, didn’t he?”
“Butt out, JOCK,” Brad warned, over Jayde’s embarrassed gasp
.
“Just trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not. And I don’t need any help.”
“We’ll see.” Romantic music began playing softly in the background. The lights lowered dramatically.
Brad looked directly into Jayde’s grinning face. “I’m going to kill him.” He then exhaled, trying again for seriousness. “Now, where was I?”
“I was telling you how wonderful you are.”
“That’s right.” And that was all it took. The desire that had been eating away at his control returned in full force. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. “Jayde, I…”
“Oh, for the love of God—kiss her. You want her, she wants you. Come on, move it, people. We’ve got stuff to do here.”
“Shut up, JOCK,” Brad yelled, pulling Jayde closer, holding her hand against his chest as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. Focusing only on her now, Brad stared down into deep-brown eyes that he suspected he could happily wake up to every morning. “I need you to…how do I put this?…well, tell me how you feel. About me. Honestly. Woman to man. I mean if we’d really met at an art show in Kansas City. Take it from there.”
Her expression told him he’d caught her off guard. She searched his face with her gaze and then smiled…uncertainly. Panic had Brad’s pulse tripping over itself. He thought certain his heart would break, but he steeled himself to hear that she thought of him as her employer. Or worse yet, a friend—the death knell of any possible intimate relationship.
“Okay. I can do that,” she said, softly. “If I’d really met you the way I said I did in my made-up scenario—” her face pinkened “—I…well, I think I might have fallen in love with you, Bradford Hale.”
Brad exhaled the breath he’d been holding. Relief and love rushed through him. “Thank God. That’s all I wanted to hear. In that case, you’re fired.”
10
JAYDE STIFFENED with shock and shoved out of Brad’s embrace. Stumbling backwards a few steps, she finally righted herself and faced him. “I’m fired? I have to tell you, Brad, I didn’t see that one coming. I’m fired? You mean that?”
“I do,” he said, a gleeful expression lighting his face. “You’re fired. Right now. As of this minute. And I couldn’t be happier, Jayde.”
Outright confusion ate at her insides. “Well, I sure as hell could be. Why am I fired? What’d I do?” The week she’d worked for him passed before her eyes. “Okay, granted, I’ve given you plenty of reason. But still…I’m fired?”
“Yes, although not for anything you’ve done. But because—and I’ve never said this to anyone before—I think I might be in love with you, Jayde.”
Her knees almost gave way. This was too much to take in all at once. “Do you fire everyone you think you might love?” she finally managed to say. “Hey, if this all started when you told me to call you Brad, then I’d much rather go back to calling you Mr. Hale and keep my job.”
He closed the distance between them. “No. That’s not it at all. You don’t understand.”
Jayde stood her ground. “Boy, you’ve got that right, Brad. Mr. Hale. Sir. One minute we’re a happy little family—okay, a pretend one—and we’re planning this wonderful minivacation for my parents and even an art show. And then the next thing I know—bam!—I’m fired.”
He grinned. “Makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?”
Jayde wished she had a paper bag handy, so she could stop herself from hyperventilating. “No, it doesn’t. I think we need to take it again from the top. Please.”
Brad crossed his arms over his chest, completely relaxed, by all appearances. “All right, I will. We’re starting to have some strong feelings for each other, right?”
She looked everywhere but at him as she searched her heart. Then, still unable to hold his gaze, she muttered, “Okay. Sure.”
“Thanks. That was a great endorsement. Anyway,” he continued, “if we’re to have a chance together then you need to be my equal, not my employee.”
Jayde heard his words, but he may as well have been speaking Swahili. “All right, let me see if I get this.” She knitted her fingers together as she talked. “What I’m hearing is that you believe that by firing me, that makes me your equal. Somehow. In your parallel universe. Am I right?”
Now he looked confused. “What?”
“Exactly. Look, Brad, don’t you see? I will never be your equal. All I’ll be if you fire me is unemployed. Gone. Game over. Finito. There’s no need for yacht excursions, shopping trips to St. Armand’s, or the gallery showing. I mean, I thought we were doing all that for my folks, and then they’d leave, and things would go back to normal, whatever that is and…”
Her voice trailed off because she suddenly realized that what she was saying was also an impossible scenario. After all, what reason would she give her folks for still living here after their divorce? And she’d have to keep up the lie of being a successful artist. A pregnant successful artist. And her family would want to console her following her divorce. And see that baby—oh, yes, they’d want to do that, too. “Whew. Well. This just isn’t going to work out at all, is it?” Brad’s expression was warm and understanding. “Yes, it will. Because what I’m saying, Jayde, if you’ll just hear me out, is that this can all work out. It could be the truth. It could even, maybe, be our life together.”
Everything inside her stilled. “How?” Brad smiled. “Jayde, how do you feel about me?” She looked him over, from his silky, sandy-colored hair, his strong, masculine face and down his muscled and oh-so-tempting body. She thought of how she liked and respected him and how his nearness made her ache all over. Then she blinked. She wagged her finger at him. “Oh, no. Uh-uh. This is how I ended up fired. I’m not falling for that again. With my luck, I’ll give the wrong answer and you’ll have me arrested or something.”
With that, she stalked over to his bed and plopped down on the comforter.
Brad shook his head. “You are so damned funny.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Jayde told him, sourly watching as he strode over to her. Squatting down, he clasped her calves, and rubbed them gently, just as he’d done in the bathroom a few minutes ago. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was having trouble catching a good breath, so overwhelming was his touch, his nearness. With every fiber of her being, she wanted him to be right…that this could be their life. But she didn’t dare allow herself to get her hopes up.
“Jayde, I love you. And I don’t want you working for me while you decide how you feel about me in return. I want your love, not your gratitude. So it’s important that you consider your feelings in an atmosphere where you are my equal, not in my debt or in my employ.”
Jayde was finally beginning to understand him. He said he loved her. She covered her face with her hands, afraid she was going to cry. “I can’t do that, Brad. That atmosphere doesn’t exist. The truth is, I’ll never be your equal. Never.”
The next thing she knew, he was pulling her hands from her face and staring up at her, his vulnerable heart in his eyes. “Why won’t you be, Jayde? Why?”
She lowered her gaze. “Because you’re a world-renowned figure. And a quadrillionaire, or something like that. And you have stature and fame and power.”
“Jayde, look at me. This isn’t about money. It insults me that you would think it is.”
Her heart was breaking. Couldn’t he see that? “And what if our situation was reversed, Brad? What if all the money and the power were mine, and not yours? What then? Would you believe we were equals, both bringing the same things to the marriage? Could you hold your head up?”
He looked down, silent.
Jayde hated herself for continuing, but she had to. It was all so sad. “I didn’t think so.” He still wouldn’t look at her. She swallowed hard. “So you see, it is about money. And social standing. I wasn’t trying to insult you—it’s just that I don’t have any of those things. But I do believe my art will one day give them all to me. Until then, that at
mosphere of equality you want me to have—and which you think you can bestow simply by firing me—doesn’t exist. End of story. The only thing firing me will do is make me poorer.”
He looked up at her, but there was no sadness in his expression. Just a determination that was growing as he spoke. “I hear everything you’re saying. And you’re raising valid points. I admit it. But, Jayde, the bottom line is…do you think you could love me?”
“Yes.” The word popped out before she could guard her tongue. “Apparently.” While her heart soared with that knowledge, it still didn’t do anything toward making her feel better. Because, as she’d just outlined, there was no hope for them.
Then, as if he were a knight bowing before his queen, Brad lowered his head until his forehead lay against her hands. “That’s enough to work with.” After a moment, he looked up at her again. “Do you trust me, Jayde?”
She nodded…somewhat cautiously. Because it was obvious he had something in mind… “I do.”
“Good.” He squeezed her hands. “Then I’m going to ask you to do something for me.”
Hadn’t she just known it? “What?”
“I want you to give me the same four or five days we’re giving your parents. That’s all I ask. And in those days, I don’t want you to think of yourself as my employee. I want you to think of yourself as my equal in every way. Think of yourself as a successful artist, someone with stature and wealth. Think of us, our relationship, as the truth. Just try it on for size. Act as if it is the truth…and see if you can come to believe it. Can you do that?”
Jayde nodded. She didn’t really know why. Except that the scenario he was painting was just too wonderful not to consider. Her, being his wife. Sharing his homes, his life, his dreams. Him sharing her life and her dreams. And his bed…
She never would have believed this could happen to her. And yet, it was…Still, she’d lived in the world of hard knocks for so long that she couldn’t let go of all her doubts, especially when she looked down to see his mother’s wedding rings on her finger. “I truly don’t know if I can come to believe it all, Brad. But I will try. I promise you that.”
