Enraptured (2 page)

I was napping when Chantale checked on me an hour later, to see if I needed anything. She tried to be quiet as she cleared away the table beside the sumptuous round bed where I had drifted asleep, listening to the soothing sound of the waves mere yards away from where I lay.

“Thank you,
Chantale,” I said as I scooted into a sitting position.

“It’s my pleasure, miss,” she replied with a sunny smile. Her voice was as melodic and as rhythmic as the sea. “You did not eat much for lunch. Would you like me to prepare a snack for you?”

I shook my head. Just the act of sitting up made my head spin. “No, thank you,” I dismissed immediately as my stomach recoiled.

“You sure?”
she asked as her eyes scanned my face.

I nodded and that was all she wrote. I scrambled off of the bed and raced toward the private bathroom, where the fruit from lunch made an encore performance.

By the time I reemerged to the sitting room, Chantale was heading back into the room, cupping a steaming mug in her hands. “Here, miss. Some ginger tea. It helps with nausea,” she added as she pulled me by the arm to the alcove bench seat with several pillows to prop me into a reclining position.

“Thank you,” I said again, breathless with gratitude as I brought the cup to my lips with shaking hands.

The young woman withdrew a bag of soda crackers from the pocket of her sheath dress. “Keep these by the bed,” she advised. “Sit up slowly and eat a couple before you get out of bed. With water,” she emphasized. “Lots of water. I’ll go get you a pitcher for your bedside.”

I nodded as I curled into the cozy little alcove. There were shelves built into the walls on either side of the stained glass window, with books the
cozy little nook invited me to read. This was precisely what I was doing a few hours later when Drew returned to our room to dress for dinner.

“Feeling better?” he asked as he shrugged out of his shirt.

“Still queasy,” I offered with a shrug.

He walked over to the bench where I sat and placed his hand against my forehead. “You should probably eat something more substantial than a few pieces of fruit,” he advised as he studied my face.

I immediately grimaced. The last thing I wanted to think about was food. “I’m not hungry.”

“But you need to eat,” he argued softly. “Come. Let’s dress for dinner. The
De Havillands are expecting us.”

Another grimace.
“I don’t exactly feel like socializing, Drew.”

“They are our hosts,” he reminded yet again
as he walked to the closet. “It would be rude to refuse, Rachel.”

I gnawed on a few soda crackers before I finally shelved the book and slid from the bench seat to dress.
Another command performance for the mighty De Havillands
, I thought.
Super.

I selected my favorite sundress, which was suitably semi-formal enough to dine with our elite hosts on the terrace by the pool. The seafood feast assaulted my senses as we walked together to the candlelit table. It was all I could
do to avoid tossing my cookies right there on the pristine white sand. My hand was shaking as I clasped Drew’s hand tighter. He sent me a reassuring smile before he turned to greet Troy and Sloane.

“You still look peaked, dear,” Sloane said as I sat. “I have some pills to deal with motion sickness, if you would like.”

I shook my head. “No, thank you,” I declined as politely as possible.

“Nonsense,” she dismissed. “Why suffer if you don’t have to?
Chantale, please fetch my Dramamine for Mrs. Fullerton.”

Chantale’s
eyes met mine uncertainly, and I shook my head. “Really, Sloane. I’m fine.”

“You’re not ‘fine,’ dear,” she argued. “You’re pale as a ghost. You look positively green.”

“Not a fan of seafood, I guess,” I shrugged. I snagged a piece of bread to stop the bile from rising from my stomach.

A benign smile crossed Drew’s face. “I think we should tell them, darling,” he said as he sat closer. I glared at him with a subtle shake of my head, but as usual, Drew marched on with his own plan no matter what anyone had to say about it. “Rachel is pregnant.”

Both Troy and Sloane lit up with the news. “That is fabulous, just fabulous,” Sloane gushed. She patted at my arm playfully. “Why didn’t you tell me, you little minx?”

I felt Drew’s arm tighten around my shoulders. “We aren’t going to announce it officially for another month, so we’ve been playing it very close to the vest. Only family knows.”

Family
, I thought with a tug at my heart.

Both
De Havillands nodded. Troy slapped Drew triumphantly on the back. “Good on you, son,” he said. “America loves a family man. A wholesome, beautiful bride and a smiling toddler? You’ll be a shoe-in for your Senate run next year.”

My eyes shot to Drew. He hadn’t mentioned anything about running for office. “We’ll see how quickly the public forgets about my sinful past,” he grinned.

Troy’s eyes glittered as they landed on me. “With such an angelic wife, how could they not?” he pondered aloud as his eyes swept over me.

Though he wasn’t overtly lecherous as he inspected me, I felt somehow violated by his perusal, like chattel on the auction block, poised for lifelong slavery at the hands of a wealthy master.
I nearly jumped out of my seat as Drew’s warm hand touched my shoulder. His eyes were dark as he stared at me. “Indeed,” he murmured softly.

Chantale
brought a small bowl of barley soup for me to eat. It was bland, but I figured that was by design, to alleviate my nausea. I gratefully took a sip of the cooling liquid as the conversation marched on thankfully without my input.

Watching the dynamic between Drew and Troy unfold was fascinating. Troy wasn’t that much older than Drew, possibly fifteen years at the most, but he had easily adopted a more fatherly role. And I could see how Drew needed his approval, in a way, I suspected, very much like he had needed
Malcolm Fullerton’s. He had been chasing after Daddy’s approval since he was Jonathan’s age, and I could see that yearning had yet to be fulfilled.

I couldn’t help but wonder as I studied them how Malcolm would have reacted in Troy’s place. From what little I could pull from Alex, I figured that Malcolm would have been far more critical of Drew’s choices, especially marrying an ordinary commoner like myself.

Perhaps the one saving grace for Daddy’s approval would have been that Drew won me away from the “weaker” brother, yet another trophy to be won. After all these years, even when he was master of his universe, Drew still needed to win to earn his dead father’s respect in whatever way he could think to do so.

I
t was clear that he had plugged Troy De Havilland into the missing spot to do exactly that, and Troy seemed to approve of all of Drew’s decisions with gusto… especially marrying me.

Troy’s
eyes lit upon me frequently until I felt like I was under some kind of spotlight. It reminded me of the time I had spent in New York with the De Havillands the year before, during my brief first engagement to Drew.

Sloane grew quickly bored of the
male-dominated conversation. After three bites of her expensive seafood meal, she grabbed a fresh dirty martini in one hand and my hand with the other, to drag me off toward the bench seating that faced the ocean. A fire had already been prepared in the pit, so it warmed our skin as we listened to the waves crash against the shore.

Sloane wanted to hear all about the pregnancy, since that was a road that she had never walked. “There was too much to do with Troy’s career,” she explained. “
Where was I supposed to fit breeding into all of that?” she added with a chuckle.

I didn’t much care for her term. Before I could address it, she forged on.

“But then again, not all women are wired to be mothers. Like that horrible ex-wife of Drew’s.” She made a face. “Phony as a three-dollar bill, that one.”

“I didn’t realize you had any real contact with Elise,” I murmured.

“Not by choice,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “She’s a climber. Always has been. She was thrilled to be on Drew’s arm when he was parading her around Washington. The only thing better in her mind than being a Beverly Hills socialite was being one of the DC elite. She knew that was where the power truly was. But she never fit in. She didn’t care about any causes beyond her own precious image.”

I snickered. “
Seems like that would fit right with Washington’s elite, otherwise they wouldn’t be so choosy in who they allow in.”

Sloane toasted me with her glass. “You are a shrewd woman, Rachel.”
She peered at me over the rim of her glass. “You help Drew more than you know. The wholesome image you portray makes him stronger. He’s not some cutthroat businessman anymore. He’s a family man, with someone no one could ever expect. There’s nothing America loves more than an underdog.”

My eyebrow rose. “Is that what I am?”

She leaned forward. “Think about it. Some no-name teacher from a farm in Texas landing the most eligible bachelor on the planet? The press will eat this stuff up, darling. It’ll fuel Drew all the way to the White House if he wants.”

“I didn’t realize his political aspirations were so high.”

She chuckled. “Once Troy gets finished with him, he’ll be running for his second term.” She drained her glass. 

“So how long have you known Drew?”

“Years,” she answered with a dramatic wave of her hand. “Before his father passed away. Now there was a formidable man.” If I wasn’t mistaken, I could have sworn I saw her shiver. “Troy tried to make inroads with Malcolm early on in his career. Why wouldn’t he? FEI is one of the most powerful companies in the world. Malcolm took Troy under his wing, guided him to join EAL, and essentially fostered the relationship between Troy and Drew from the moment Drew joined upper management. Malcolm knew that the only people more powerful than those with money are the ones who make all the rules that allow us to keep it. We all get by with a little help from our friends, do we not?” She wore a humorless smirk as she stared at the sea.

“So Malcolm groomed Troy,
who is ultimately grooming Drew,” I said, fitting the pieces together.

“Proud traditions continue,” she toasted again, before signaling to some anonymous staffer nearby that she needed a refill. “And one day your children will continue the work that Malcolm began
decades ago. That was why Drew needed a much stronger partner than his ex. That scandal with Jonathan last year, when he was linked with that horrible delinquent, Justin Deneke, is proof positive of that. Governing starts at home. You can’t cultivate a life of service when your children are lost on the road to ruin.”

“Collateral damage,” I murmured, thinking of what Alex had said to Drew years before. This was how Malcolm viewed children. Their happiness, their wellbeing, came second to the image of such a high-profile famil
y.

“If you ask me, I truly believe that was why Malcolm dismissed any kind of political career of his own. He couldn’t risk it as long as he had a loose cannon lurking in the shadows, ready to torpedo his reputation at the drop of a hat.”

I knew she meant Alex. My spine straightened, but I said nothing. It certainly made sense now, why Drew wouldn’t drop Troy like a bad habit, and why he had felt so compelled to live the life his father couldn’t. I gently cradled my tummy, wondering what that would mean for our child.

“Thank God for you,” she added. “Not only have you managed to pull Jonathan from the fire, but you’ve managed to rein in the most ornery stallion in the Fullerton stables. Kudos,” she added with yet another toast.
Her voice slightly slurred as she said, “One day you’ll have to tell me your secret.”

I was tempted to ask her which
secret she meant; the one where I landed the most eligible bachelor in the world… or the one where I tamed the wild Fullerton children, including Alex himself. But I knew better than to entertain such a conversation. This was my family to protect now, and the less I said the better. “I should probably turn in,” I said as I rose from the plush bench where I sat.

She gave me a lascivious wink. “Ah, yes. The honeymoon begins. Don’t let me keep you, darling.”

I smiled and said nothing as I made my way back to our private suite, which had already been prepared by the staff with more flowers, lit candles and a bucket full of sparkling ginger ale, just for me. I smiled. I knew that Chantale had something to do with that.

I was pouring myself a glass when Drew finally closed the door behind him and entered our suite. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he discarded his shirt.

“A little better,” I answered. I omitted how escaping the oppressive De Havillands had a lot to do with it. I watched as he poured himself another drink at our private bar. “I didn’t realize your political aspirations were so lofty, Drew.”

He gave me an absent smile before he downed the tumbler of amber liquid. “It was Father’s dream,” he admitted as he poured another.

“I got that,” I said as I sat on the sofa in our sitting room. “But I guess I didn’t realize it was yours.”