From Friend to Fake Fiancé (12 page)

Sixteen

J
enna rolled over, stretched and smiled as memories washed over her. Last night had been amazing.

Squinting against the sunlight streaming through the sheers, Jenna reached across the bed...encountering cool sheets. She sat up and glanced around the bedroom. The empty bedroom.

As she surveyed the area, she thought Mac could be in the living room or making breakfast to surprise her in bed, but she knew better. He was gone. There wasn't a stitch of his clothing in here, no bag, no shoes. Absolutely nothing.

With the rumpled sheets and the masculine scent of Mac still all around, Jenna might as well be mocked for her error in judgment. She'd been afraid to get this close, to let her defenses down where Mac was concerned, but she'd taken a risk. She'd known the consequences going in and she'd said to hell with it.

Well, now she sat here all alone in a bed where they'd been intimate only hours ago, which just proved she'd been right all along. Nothing and no one could change Mac O'Shea.

Even knowing all of this, even having her eyes wide open to the inevitable ending, didn't stop the hurt from spearing directly into her heart. Last night when they'd made love—and that's exactly what they did—he'd looked into her eyes, he'd held her like a man who was falling. She'd thought for sure they were feeling the same thing.

What they shared was so much more than physical closeness. They'd had a deep bond long before their clothes fell off.

Sinking back against the pillows, throat tight and eyes burning, Jenna scolded herself. What would crying do? Mac would still be gone and she'd still be here looking like a complete and utter fool.

Part of her wished he'd taken off because he was afraid. At least then she'd know he'd seen her as something more than just a friend or a casual romp. Nothing about this entire week had been casual, but Mac was done here. He'd fulfilled his obligation, his friendly duties, and he was off.

Jenna clutched the sheet to her chest and rolled over, away from the scent of Mac's pillow. The pain intensified the longer she lay there, but she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. She knew Mac left because he told her he would, and Mac always kept his word.

Where was he now? On a flight back to Barcelona or wherever he'd come from before riding to her rescue? Was he going to meet up with one of his ladies, resume his life as though it was business as usual?

Jenna wished like hell she could be that blasé about sex, but she just couldn't. She'd grown up dreaming of finding the love of her life, of being with the man who made her heart flip in her chest. From the second she'd seen Mac at the party of a mutual friend, her heart hadn't stopped flipping.

But they had completely different ideas regarding relationships...namely that he didn't want one and she did.

Jenna forced herself to get out of bed. The sooner she could start packing and get to the airport, the better. Her flight didn't even leave until later this afternoon, but she didn't want to stay in this bed, in this bungalow a moment longer than necessary. She couldn't handle the memories.

The past several days had been the best of her life. Her sister was happily married, her ex was off her back and Mac had set the new standard for any man who would enter her life next. He'd set the bar so high, in fact, she knew no other could ever reach it.

But wasn't the end goal to get Martin to go away? Well, mission accomplished. The cheater wouldn't attempt a reunion now.

As Jenna threw on a sundress and jerked her hair into a ponytail, she almost wished she'd just handled Martin on her own. Then she wouldn't be dealing with this ache in her heart and an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

But how could she regret asking Mac to come here? He'd not only dropped everything to help her, he'd made her feel beautiful and given her a self-confidence she'd never known before.

And it was that confidence that fueled Jenna now. The hurt wasn't going away, but a hefty dose of anger was settling deep alongside it. How dare he leave without a goodbye? Sure, he'd told her they were always going to be friends and, after the scam was up, that's what they would return to. But even friends said goodbye, right? So why had he sneaked out of their bed as if he was ashamed of what they'd done? Could he not face her anymore? Was he in that big of a hurry to get where he was going, to get away from her?

Jenna slammed her suitcase onto the messy bed and started throwing stuff in. She wanted answers and she wanted them now. Texting wasn't going to cut it. She intended to find Mac and demand he tell her why he just left as if she was some cheap date or a one-night stand. She deserved better, damn it.

And isn't that what he'd told her all along?

* * *

Mac stormed into the O'Shea family home in Beacon Hill. Braden lived here with Zara. Well, the two went back and forth because neither stubborn party would sell their home. Understandably, Braden didn't want to relinquish what was theirs and Zara didn't want to let go of her late grandmother's house. Thus the stalemate.

The house seemed quiet. Too quiet. No staff? Someone was always milling about during the day.

Mac glanced from room to room and listened for evidence of any activity at all. Upstairs he heard a bedroom door close so Mac made his way up the wide, curved staircase.

When he reached the landing, Braden was heading down the steps. His brother's eyes locked on to Mac's.

“This isn't a good time,” Braden murmured as he bounded down the stairs. “I didn't know you were coming.”

Stunned at his brother's gruff, put-off tone, Mac watched as Braden passed right by and went down to the first floor. Something was terribly wrong and Mac wasn't leaving until he had answers.

He had zero tolerance for games or for Braden's moodiness. Mac had his own host of issues. Namely the fact he'd fallen for his best friend and now he had to figure out how the hell to keep his distance. Crawling away from her warm body that morning had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. But as he'd lain there with her body tucked against his, he knew he needed to move on for her own good. He'd seen that look in her eyes, knew that when she'd said “always” she meant it literally. She hadn't just gotten swept away in the moment.

Mac pushed aside the confusion and fear over his emotions and followed Braden into the study on the first floor. Braden circled the oversized mahogany desk and sank into the leather chair behind it. Standing back, Mac watched as Braden rested his elbows on the desktop and held his head in his hands.

Whatever was going on was serious and personal.

“Braden—”

“We lost the baby.”

Mac froze. The baby? What...oh, no. Zara had been pregnant? And she'd lost the baby?

With slow, careful steps, Mac approached the desk. No wonder Braden had been out of commission for days. He'd been dealing with a new level of hell.

“I don't know what to do for her,” Braden went on. “She's upstairs sleeping now, but she just cries all the time.”

Mac rounded the desk and eased a hip on the edge. Looking down at his always strong, always in charge brother and seeing him so broken and miserable was crushing.

“I had no idea, Braden. I'm sorry.”

Braden pushed away from the desk and fell back against the cushioned leather. “I didn't want to get into this with a text or phone call. I didn't even know how to cope or to say the words out loud. We'd just found out last week that she was pregnant, and were waiting to get everyone together to make an announcement.”

In the span of a week Braden's entire life had changed. Mac completely understood how that worked. Suddenly Mac's issue seemed so insignificant in comparison.

“What can I do?” Mac asked.

Shaking his head, Braden finally met his gaze. “There's nothing. We'll get through this.”

Mac had no idea what to say to make any of this easier for Braden. And Zara? He couldn't even imagine what she was going through.

“Tell me what happened with Ryker,” Braden said, raking a hand over his face. The stubble beneath his palm rustled. “I hope you took care of whatever he needed.”

Mac gritted his teeth and swallowed. Making that judgment call had never come easy, but he couldn't be sorry and he didn't do regrets. Regrets wouldn't change the facts and Mac never believed in looking back.

“We took care of things.”

Braden's tired gaze narrowed. “What's that mean?”

Mac came to his feet and paced to the stained-glass window behind the desk. He shoved his hands into his pockets and debated how much he should tell Braden. Normally this would be a nonissue, but given all that Braden was dealing with, Mac worried the news would be too much.

“Ryker has a good lead on the scrolls,” Mac started, keeping his back to Braden. “I haven't heard back from him regarding them, so he's still chasing that tip. If it was a dead end, we'd know.”

“So what aren't you telling me?”

On a sigh, Mac glanced over his shoulder. “Shane attempted to toss his pathetic power around.”

“How?” Braden asked, brows drawn in.

“He intercepted a package that's due for the auction I have coming up in Miami. Nothing we acquired for a client, but he did it to prove he could.” Which still pissed Mac off. “He showed up in London and wasn't subtle about following Ryker around.”

Braden slammed his hand down on the desk. “He's determined to keep coming at us. Does he think we see him as a threat? Maybe it's time I meet with him face-to-face. Settle this and let him know who exactly is in charge now.”

Damn. This was the part he didn't want to tell Braden. “Shane won't be a problem anymore.”

Braden's gaze held on to Mac's. Acknowledgment flashed through his eyes, the muscle in his jaw clenched. “Ryker made this call?”

Mac squared his shoulders. “I did.”

Braden came to his feet, slowly, lethally. The leather chair creaked, anger rolled off Braden in waves.

“You did.”

Mac nodded and fully braced himself for whatever rage Braden threw his way.

In one swift move, Braden gripped Mac's shirt and slammed him against the wall next to the window. “You made this call knowing I didn't want any more death on our hands?” Braden demanded.

“I made the call because we didn't know what was going on with you,” Mac gritted out. “I did it because Shane has been a menace since Dad was in charge and I was damn tired of him getting in our way. And he threatened Laney.”

The hold on Mac's shirt eased. “He what?”

Mac stared into his brother's eyes, so much like his own. “He sent an email threat to Laney. He tried to encrypt it, but she was able to trace it to him. He also tried to kidnap her.”

Braden's eyes narrowed, the muscle in his jaw clenched. “What?”

“He tried to grab her off the street before he went to London to follow Ryker.”

“Damn it.” Braden's hands fell away, but he didn't move back. “Who the hell attempts to mess with my family and think their actions won't be dealt with?”

Raking his fingers through his hair, he muttered another curse. “That bastard. I should've killed him myself.”

A gasp drew Mac's attention. Braden whirled around and in the doorway stood a very pale, very shocked-looking Zara with her hand over her mouth. Her wide eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, a clear sign she'd been crying for a lengthy amount of time.

“Zara...” Braden started across the study.

“Who?” she whispered.

“You should be sleeping,” Braden said, ignoring her question.

When he went to reach for her, Zara held up a hand. “Who was killed?”

Braden threw Mac a look over his shoulder. Mac stepped forward. This was his mess, he'd take the blame.

“Shane.”

Zara's eyes closed, she swayed on her feet and Braden quickly wrapped his arms around her waist and caught her.

“You promised no more.”

Mac heard the whispered plea and the guilt consumed him. “The circumstances were different and Braden didn't make the call.”

She glanced around Braden and eyed Mac. “But you knew he didn't want anymore...evil. Why did you do it?”

Mac wouldn't feel sorry for making a judgment call. He may hate taking lives, but sometimes there was no other choice...when it meant protecting your own. Just another life lesson from the late Patrick O'Shea.

“I'm sorry about your baby, Zara.” He totally ignored her question to him, but he needed her to know he wasn't a complete monster. He was genuinely sorry for the child who was lost. Such innocence taken away. Mac knew how much family meant to Braden, knew his brother wanted a large family of his own.

Her chin quivered, moisture gathered in her eyes as she nodded and leaned farther into Braden.

“We'll talk later,” Braden stated, glancing to Mac. “When are you leaving?”

Mac shrugged. “Whenever. My jet is waiting. I need to be home by tomorrow to sort out the last-minute details before the auction.”

“Go on, then. Any word from Ryker or anything else business related comes directly to me.”

When Braden turned to go, Mac stepped forward. “It was inevitable, you know. Just because you want to take this family in a new direction, doesn't mean you can. Too many outsiders won't let you. They're hiding, waiting to threaten us when we show a hint of weakness. We may want a different life, but change won't be easy.”

Braden's shoulders stiffened and he froze for the slightest moment before finally ushering Zara out of the room without a word.

Mac blew out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Braden was pissed, Zara was hurt and Jenna was...hell, he didn't know what she was because he'd run out of there the second he realized his feelings had taken a turn in a direction he didn't want to go.