Affair with the Rebel Heiress (2010) (11 page)

While he was decidedly gay, he regretted some of the things his lifestyle had cost him: his family's respect and the chance for a family of his own. She might just be able to tempt him onto an easier path. They'd never have a real marriage, but they were friends at least. Which was more than some couples could say.

Simon frowned as if he were seriously considering her offer. Hope surged through her. Maybe this would actually work. If it did, it would all be so simple. Such a fine solution to all of her problems.

"And what would you get out of this marriage?" he asked.

"I'd get a talented CEO. With you at the helm, Biedermann's stock would start to climb again. I'd keep the company out of the hands of FMJ. It's so perfect, I almost wonder why I didn't think of it before."

Simon studied her. "I was wondering that myself. After all, you haven't gone to lengths to hide the fact that you've been looking for a husband to bail you out."

She nearly laughed. "Don't tell me I've offended you by not propositioning you before now?"

"Not at all. I'm just curious why you're suddenly so desperate." Simon gave her a piercing look. "You know I'd never be the kind of husband you deserve."

She nodded. "Of course I know that. But we're friends. I think it would be very easy for us to settle into a marriage of sorts."

He cocked his head to the side and asked, "If you're serious, why come here? Why not just call? Why ask now? It's not often a man gets tracked down in the middle of his lover's art show and propositioned."

She had to laugh at that. "It seemed like the kind of thing to discuss in person. And I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"You make a very tempting package, my dear, but--"

"But you're not tempted?" she asked with a sigh.

"It's more that I think you'll regret it later. In my experience, when someone propositions you late at night, on impulse, it's because they're running away from someone else."

"I'm not running away from Ford." But the panicked note in her voice alarmed her.

Simon leveled his gaze at her. "Really? Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," she insisted, determined to leave it at that. However, she kept talking, seemingly unable to stop the flow of words. "That man is impossible. He's insulting and rude. And he..." She struggled to regain the composure she felt slipping. "And he asked me to marry him."

Before she knew it, she'd told Simon the entire story. From the unplanned pregnancy to her incompetence as a CEO to Ford's offer of marriage.

When she finished, she looked at Simon, fully expecting a flood of sympathy. Instead he gazed at her in that penetrating way of his.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm just trying to figure out why you need me to be your husband and your CEO, if Ford has already offered to do the job."

"I can't accept his proposal. He only offered because he feels sorry for me."

"Sorry for you?" Simon asked.

She fumed. "I think he sees it as a point of honor."

Simon laughed at her. "Sure there's pity sex. But there's no such thing as a pity marriage. No man is that honorable."

Humiliation burned her cheeks as she asked, "Then why would he offer to marry me?"

Simon shrugged. "You'll have to ask him. Maybe he offered for the reason most men ask a woman to marry them. Maybe he loves you."

Shock coursed through her body. Love? Ford might love her? For one awful moment, her heart leaped into her throat, then sanity returned. "That's impossible."

"Are you sure?" Before she could answer, he pressed on. "Do you love him?"

"I don't--" But she could only shake her head. Not in denial, but in confusion. Was what she felt really love? Not a temporary blip of imaginary love, but real love. The kind strong enough to sustain an actual marriage? "I don't know."

"Then you better figure it out." Simon pulled her close and leaned down to brush a kiss across her cheek. But before his lips made contact with her skin, someone yanked him away from her and punched him soundly in the face.

"You didn't have to punch him."

Kitty sat beside Ford in the back of a taxi, but she'd crammed herself as far against the door as she could. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she gazed belligerently forward, her legs crossed away from him so that as she tapped her foot in irritation it scraped against the door. The cab driver kept glaring at her in the mirror, but she ignored him. Occasionally, the driver sent him a pleading look for backup, but Ford ignored him, too. Hell, he had bigger problems. Much, much bigger.

"What were you thinking?" she demanded.

What was he supposed to say to that? He hadn't been thinking. When he'd walked into that gallery and seen
another man leaning down to kiss Kitty, he'd simply lost it. Never mind that the man doing the kissing was gay. Ford hadn't known that until after he'd punched him, when a pint-size, flamboyant man had shrieked and run across the room to kneel beside the fallen man. A lot of drama had ensued. Ford figured he was lucky the police hadn't been called, because an arrest was the last thing he needed to add to his humiliation.

To make matters worse, he'd obviously been set up. He'd gone to that art gallery in the first place because half an hour earlier he'd gotten a picture e-mailed to him of Kitty snuggling up to that guy. He'd been furious. It hadn't mattered that the e-mail had been from someone claiming to be Suzy Snark. He'd deal with that issue later. For now, he had more pressing issues.

Kitty shifted in her seat so she was almost facing him. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" she asked in slow, baffled tones. "Any explanation for why you'd do that?"

There was a note of expectancy in her voice. Was there some answer she wanted him to give? Did she understand his actions? Because he sure as hell didn't.

He glanced at her only briefly before looking back out his window. He didn't know what to say. Because the truth was, he
did
have to hit him. When he'd seen Simon kissing Kitty, the need to hit him had been so strong it had almost been a compulsion.

In that moment, all the heightened emotions of that past week--all the anxiety, all the desire, all the frus
tration--all that emotion had crystallized into pure, blinding fury.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? Anything at all?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She threw up her hands in a
what the hell?
gesture. She snorted, turning toward him. "Of all the stupid--"

"I know. Shut up." He turned to face her, too. "You think I don't know what I did was stupid? I know. I'm thirty-two years old--damn it--I know better than to punch a guy just because he's kissing my woman. I. Know. Better."

Her eyes widened slightly at his words. She looked as if she wanted to turn and run, but in the tight confines of the taxi, there was nowhere to go. And since she wasn't saying anything, he kept talking.

"I'm not a complete moron, despite all evidence to the contrary. I don't fight. That's just not who I am. Back when we were kids, Jonathan got into plenty of fights. Matt, too. But not me. I was always the one talking the other guy into backing down. I've always been too smart to fight." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I guess you just bring out the idiot in me."

Her gaze narrowed slightly. "That's all you have to say for yourself?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Then she leaned forward and tapped on the glass separating them from the cab driver. "Pull over here," she ordered.

"Come on, Kitty, you can't get out here. It's late and you're a twenty-minute cab ride from your apartment."

"I'm not getting out. You are."

K
itty watched Ford climb from the cab with a sinking stomach. If she didn't know it was too early for her to feel the baby moving, she'd have sworn the little bugger was giving her a swift kick in the gut. And not in a good way.

She'd given Ford the perfect opportunity to tell her he loved her. And all he'd come up with was "You just bring out the idiot in me."

That was the best he could do? Not "I love you." Not even "I couldn't stand the sight of another man touching you." Geesh, she would have settled for "I was jealous." But oh, no. That's not what she got. She got "You just bring out the idiot in me."

Well. What could she have said to that? "Gosh, I'm so glad I could help"?

Simon had been wrong.

Ford didn't love her.

But she did love him.

Something she hadn't known for sure until she'd been sitting there beside him in the cab, heart thudding away in her chest, waiting to hear his answer. Praying for a declaration from him.

And the instant he'd made that stupid idiot comment she'd known that she'd been kidding herself until now. She wasn't immune to Ford. He had the power to crush her very soul.

How could she even see him again? How could she risk falling even more in love with him?

No, she needed some distance. Not to mention some time. She had never backed down from a fight in her life, but she knew Ford. He wouldn't leave her alone. He'd never give her heart time to build up calluses. Which meant she had to go into hiding.

A few minutes later when the cab pulled to stop in front of her building, she leaned in the window as she paid. "Can you wait? I'll be down in just a few minutes."

It didn't take her long to pack a bag and return to the waiting cab. It was risky, leaving just now, when the deal with FMJ was still up in the air, but she just couldn't stay. She'd always thought losing Biedermann's was the hardest thing she'd ever have to go through. Turned out she was wrong. Losing Ford was so much harder.

By morning, Ford was ready for some answers. And, frankly, he figured he had them coming. Unfor
tunately, Kitty was nowhere to be found. She wasn't at work, she wasn't at home. She wasn't even at any of the spas he could think of calling.

In the end, he decided to check with the one person he least wanted to see. Simon Durant.

He tracked Simon down at the other man's apartment on the Upper West Side.

When Simon opened his front door sporting an already bruising black eye, Ford didn't waste any time. He figured the man was seconds away from throwing him out already.

He tried to contain his anger, but it crept into his voice as he asked, "What the hell did you say to Kitty?"

Simon's eyebrows shot up as he gestured for Ford to follow him into the living room. "Why do you assume I said anything to her?"

"Because she's gone."

"Gone?" Simon dropped onto the sofa, stretching out his legs along the seat.

"Yes, gone. As in, she's not answering her phone, she's not at home, and no one can tell me where she is."

"Ahh. I see." Simon nodded sagely, but didn't offer anything else. Then he looked meaningfully at the chair across from him.

Ford sat begrudgingly. This wasn't a social visit, but Simon clearly enjoyed toying with him. "So what did you say to her?"

"Hmm, let me think." Simon tapped his forefinger on his upper lip as if deep in thought. "First she asked me if I would marry her."

Ford had to repress the urge to leap across the coffee table and wrap his hands around the other man's throat. But hitting Simon last night obviously hadn't helped anything, so Ford sat, drumming his fingers on his knees, and prayed that Simon would reach the end of the story before he reached the end of his patience.

"And what did you say?" Ford gave Simon a verbal nudge.

"Well, no. Obviously." Simon sent him a look that seemed to ask,
Are you always this dumb?

"Obviously."

"And then she told me that you had asked her to marry you. It's all very
Midsummer Night's Dream
, don't you think?"

Ford ignored him and asked, "Then what happened?"

"Then she cried a little." Simon's flippant tone vanished under the weight of this accusation. "And you know, Kitty never cries."

Ford could only swallow and nod.

"Do you know she's under the impression you asked her to marry you because you pity her?"

"That's absurd," Ford said automatically.

"I'm glad you think so." Simon flashed him a wane smile. "That's what I said. I told her I thought you were in love with her."

Ford felt like his stomach dropped out of his body as his mind went wheeling.

"Well?" Simon asked after a minute.

"Well, what?"

"Are you? In love with Kitty, I mean."

"No" was his automatic response, but even as he said the word he felt a pang deep in his heart.

Kitty was probably the most amazing woman he'd ever known. Smart, sexy as hell, and so damn pretty it almost hurt to look at her. None of which was even half as impressive as her pure strength of will. Her independence. In her lifetime, she'd managed to overcome challenges he couldn't even imagine. And she was so damn determined to do it all on her own.

It was kind of ironic. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone. He wanted to shoulder all the burdens or to stand by her side when she shouldered them herself. He wanted to be there for her no matter what. Not just for her, but for the baby, too. He wanted to try his hand at being the kind of father he'd never had.

If only she'd let him. Of course he was in love with her. Who wouldn't be? "Yes," he said finally.

This time, the smile Simon sent him was beaming. "Well, then." He straightened. "We have some work to do, don't we?"

If Kitty had any illusions that Ford would come rushing after her to sweep her off her feet, they faded quickly. As one week passed into the next, she faced the possibility that he wasn't coming for her. True, she'd made herself difficult to find, but not impossible. After all, the hotel was just a few blocks down from Biedermann's headquarters.

At first, she mostly just sulked. It wasn't so much that
she expected him to find her, but rather that she hoped he would. In her mind she replayed scenes from all the classic romantic movies she'd watched growing up. The ones where the man chases down the heroine on New Year's Eve or at the Empire State Building to declare his eternal love. She wanted their story to have that kind of ending, even though she knew it was impossible.

When she wasn't entertaining romantic fantasies about Ford, she ate and slept, the two activities her doctor most approved of. She was surprised how tired being pregnant made her feel, but thankful that lots of rest and near constant eating kept the nausea at bay.

As far as work was concerned, she turned over the negotiations with FMJ to Marty. Following Ford's advice, she came clean to Marty about her dyslexia. He was shocked, but far more sympathetic than she'd imagined he'd be. He called daily with updates about the acquisition, but she found it hard to care.

Still, she knew the negotiations had not yet been finalized. So when Casey came by for a visit and mentioned that Ford had scheduled another press conference, she was immediately suspicious. If Ford was ready to talk to the press, it could mean only one thing. If he wasn't going to announce that the deal was finalized, did that mean FMJ was pulling out?

Whether she was ready to face him or not, it was time for her to come out of hiding.

Staring out at the sea of reporters, Ford had to swallow down his nerves. He'd done dozens of these
things in the past, hell, maybe hundreds, and they'd never bothered him at all.

But he knew if he had any chance of winning Kitty back, it would be right now. And she was out there somewhere, just waiting to see what he had up his sleeve.

He'd known--of course--that the one sure way to guarantee she came to the press conference was to tell Casey to keep her away.

He didn't have long to worry about it, because before he knew it, Matt was giving him the nod that it was time to begin.

"Acquiring Biedermann Jewelry was quite the departure for FMJ. Up until now, we've been known for pioneering green technologies. However, we were confident that with the right leadership and creativity Biedermann's could once again become a leader in the industry.

"Though our agreement with Biedermann's hasn't been finalized, we're so enthusiastic about the new direction we're taking things we wanted to give everyone a sneak peek at what we're doing.

"Casey there is passing out swag bags, and if you'll look inside, you'll see what I'm talking about. We're launching a line of stylish accessories for personal mobile devices."

A murmur went through the crowd as people began digging through the bags. Each of the twenty bags contained the Victorian-inspired iPhone case and the gothic Bluetooth earpiece. The earpiece had taken the
most work, but luckily Matt had figured out a way to retrofit an earpiece FMJ was already manufacturing.

"These are all just beta versions," Ford continued over the whispers. He smiled broadly. "So go easy on them. The final versions will be in stores within a few months, along with the rest of the line. All of which, by the way, are designed personally by Kitty Biedermann herself."

Kitty could not have been more surprised than anyone else in the audience. She sat in the back row, feeling a little like Jackie O. hidden under sunglasses and a hat. So far, no one had recognized her.

When she'd opened the bag Casey had handed her with a wink, she'd actually gasped aloud. Thankfully her gasp was one of many exclamatory noises, so she didn't think anyone had noticed.

She dumped the two boxes on her lap and then carefully opened the first, unwrapping the tissue paper that surrounded the iPhone case. Her hand trembled as she held it. It was something she'd never dreamed she'd see. Her design come to life, strange and a little absurd though it was, with its Victorian curlicues and its gothic clawed feet.

After a lifetime of dreaming of it, she was finally holding one of her creations in her hands. Even better, the people on either side of her were murmuring excitedly. Her father had been wrong. There was a market for her work.

And Ford had given it to her.

By the time she returned her attention to the press conference, Ford was answering questions.

"Will Ms. Biedermann continue to design the line?" one reporter asked.

"I certainly hope so. As you can see, her designs are very original."

"Does this mean she won't be serving as CEO of Biedermann's?"

"Ms. Biedermann is extremely smart and talented. Like many other people who are dyslexic, she's shown tremendous resilience in overcoming her disability. Needless to say, FMJ will be happy to have her in whatever capacity she chooses to fill."

Kitty's head snapped up as panic poured through her body. He'd just casually dropped her dyslexia into the conference like it was nothing. What was he
doing?

Ford had paused as shock rippled through the crowd, but now he continued. "Her learning disability has made her job as CEO extremely difficult, as you can imagine."

"So then she won't be continuing on in her current position? FMJ is going to replace her?" one of the reporters asked.

Ford's gaze sought out Kitty where she sat in the back of the room. He'd seen her trying to blend in when she'd first arrived. Not that Kitty could disappear in a crowd. Her intrinsic style and grace made her stand out.

When he'd made the announcement about her dyslexia, she'd near leaped to her feet. She yanked off
her sunglasses and was glaring at him through the crowd. Was she anxious to hear his answer or sending him a telepathic message to explode? He couldn't tell. For now, all he could do was answer the reporter's question as honestly as he could.

"On the contrary. FMJ is going to do everything in its power to support her in whatever she decides. Biedermann's is still her company. However, the position she holds within the company will ultimately be her decision."

After that, he answered a few more questions and then wrapped up his part. He neatly handed the podium over to Matt to talk about the specs just as they'd planned. He wanted to slip out quietly. The last thing he wanted now was to get waylaid by some nosy reporter. No, there was only one person he wanted to talk to right now. And only one question he wanted answers to. Now that he'd revealed her biggest secret to the world, would she still want to talk to him?

She caught up with him right outside the conference room, falling into step beside him as if it hadn't been nearly two weeks since he'd seen her. As if there weren't repeated marriage proposals hanging in the air between them.

Finally the tension got to him and he broke the silence. "They seemed enthusiastic about the new line."

She slanted him a look, but the sunglasses were back on and he couldn't read her expression. "It was a big risk announcing it this early."

"It was. But Biedermann's stock price has been
climbing steadily since I scheduled the press conference. It had been fluctuating based on the Suzy Snark blogs. No matter what happens, Biedermann's is no longer in danger of being delisted."

After today, she would be fine even without him, if that's what she chose.

She stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. "Why did you do it? If our stock prices are climbing then theoretically I don't have to accept your buyout offer now. You made it easier for me to walk away from you."

"That's one way to look at it." He grinned wolfishly. "But all of Matt's Bluetooth stuff is proprietary technology. If you want Biedermann's to actually sell those gadgets of yours, now you have to sign the papers."

"So it was a trap?"

They'd reached the hotel lobby by now, and she stopped cold. He turned to face her. He'd been wondering when they would get to this part of the discussion. The part where she ripped him a new one for spilling the beans about her dyslexia.

But instead of the blazing anger he expected to read in her expression, he saw only shattering vulnerability.