Married by Midnight (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series, #12) (16 page)

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Authors: JUDY ANGELO

Tags: #romance, #contemporary romance, #romance series, #women's fiction, #billionaire romance, #bargain romance, #bargain book, #bargain

BOOK: Married by Midnight (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series, #12)
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Seven o’clock came and she was still lying there.  Eight o’clock came and she still hadn’t moved.  There were no more tears.  She’d shed them all the night before.  Now, though, there was a numbness that made her feel like a shell filled with lead.

She jumped when she heard a pounding at her door.

“Golden, aren’t you going to work today?”

At the sound of her mother’s voice she groaned then pressed her cheek into the pillow.  “No, mother,” she said loudly, forcing a hint of life into her voice.  “No work today.”

“Oh.”  Eugenia sounded surprised.  “All right, then.  Get some rest.  I imagine you’re tired from your trip.”  Then her footsteps sounded, padding away from the door and down the hallway.

Golden was not disturbed again until nine o’clock when her cell phone rang, exactly thirty minutes after she should have reported to work.  She didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was.  She did not pick up the phone and she did not answer.

Golden closed her eyes and she did not open them again until almost ten o’clock when her tummy began to growl.  She sighed.  No matter that her emotional world had just disintegrated her physical being still demanded attention. She rolled out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. 

She dragged on sweat pants and an old T-shirt and went downstairs to make herself a quick breakfast.  A glance around told her there was no-one in the kitchen.  Grateful, she dashed in and filled a bowl with cereal and almond milk then she grabbed a spoon and beat a fast retreat back to her room.

She’d finished eating and had returned to the refuge of her bed when she heard a car pull up to the house.  Darn.  She knew that sound.  It was her stepfather’s car that had just purred to a stop in front of the house.  Golden’s heart sank.  She’d hoped he’d be out for the day.  She was not looking forward to being in the same house with him for the next several hours.

She was so intent on avoiding her stepfather that she didn’t even return her empty bowl to the kitchen.  Instead, she rinsed both bowl and spoon in her bathroom sink then laid them out on top of her chest of drawers.  Now what?  She looked around the room and her eyes landed on a book she’d bought weeks earlier but hadn’t had time to finish.  And it was a good read, too.  Now would be the perfect time to lose herself in the pages of a romantic story set in the time of the Vikings.  Maybe it would take her away from her own troubles.

She was all the way up to chapter ten, in the middle of a scene where the noble Viking had just kidnapped the daughter of his nemesis, when her cell phone began to buzz.  This time she did pick it up and when she glanced at the screen she saw that it was exactly who she thought it would be.  Well, Reed Davidoff could call all he wanted.  She would never give him the satisfaction of an answer.

She dropped the phone on the bed, picked up her book and flipped to the next page, intent on submerging herself in a story she knew would have a happy ending.  She would not let Reed spoil her day.

Golden was in the middle of chapter fifteen when there was another disturbance and she was forced to pause.  Someone was ringing the doorbell.  Once, twice, three times it rang.  Golden frowned.  Where was her mother?  Where was Manchester?  Why didn’t someone answer the door?

Breathing a heavy sigh she marked her page and headed out the door.  She hoped it wasn’t one of those awful door-to-door salesmen pushing carpet cleaning services or lawn care.  She wasn’t in the mood.

Golden swung the door open, the prepared arguments already forming in her mind.  They had hard wood and stone floors and they had a gardener.  Whatever they were selling, she didn’t need it.

She didn’t get a chance to use either one.  She found herself staring up into Reed’s steely-blue eyes.  “Reed,” she gasped then snapped her mouth shut.  Then she remembered to glare at him.  “What do you want?”

He took a step closer, his frame filling up the front door, forcing her to take a step backward.  “Why didn’t you show up at work today?”

Tilting her face up, she met his stare.  “I’m not coming back.  I quit.”

His frown deepened.  “You can’t just walk off the job like that.  Your employment contract says you need to give two weeks’ notice.”

“Under the circumstances,” she countered, her tone biting, “no notice is necessary.  I cannot work for a man I don’t trust.”

The blue in Reed’s eyes grew dark, his pupils dilating in anger.  His lips parted as if he were about to speak and that was when she heard the voices drifting in from the back of the house.  It sounded like her mother and Manchester had just opened the garden door and were entering the house, deep in conversation.

Golden’s hand shot out and she pushed Reed backward and away from the front door.  Quickly, she followed him out the door and pulled it shut behind her.

“What’s going-”

“Shh.  We can’t talk here.  Just get in your car and take me down the lane.”

The last thing she wanted was for Manchester to find Reed on his doorstep.  If given the chance her stepfather would draw him in and ply him with questions and, knowing how manipulative the older man was, he would soon have Reed on his side.

She was hurrying with Reed to his car when she remembered what she was wearing.  Her face colored as she realized the picture she must have made when she opened the door to the unexpected visitor.  Sweat pants and an old T-shirt?  She was still wearing bedroom slippers, for goodness sake.  It was a good thing they were out in the country, in a region remote enough where they could drive along a tiny road and not see anyone.  She would make him pull over at the most convenient point, let him say his piece and then he could be on his way.  And that would be that.  She would never see Reed again.

At that thought the bravado seeped out of her and her heart began to slide from its resting place down to the bottom of her stomach.  She would never see Reed again.  She almost came to a halt.  She knew he was lost to her, he could never be hers, but still...the thought made her lift her fingers to her lips.  She could feel a sob rising and she could not let it escape.

Head down, Golden slid into the passenger’s seat and watched as Reed walked around to the driver’s side.  She drew in a few surreptitious breaths and by the time he got in and started the car she’d regained a tentative hold on her emotions.

He glanced at her.  “Where to?”

“Just drive along there,” she said, jerking her chin toward the small road that branched off from theirs.  “If you need to talk to me you can do it there.”  He set off and when they got to a grassy bank shaded by trees she told him to stop.

Even after the car had rolled to a halt Reed said nothing.  He just sat there, his hands still on the wheel, staring at the foliage in front of him.

Golden glanced over at Reed, waiting for him to speak.  When nothing came she twisted in the seat, her body turned toward him.  “Why did you come to see me?” she asked, her voice surprisingly calm.  “You know I can’t work for you anymore.”

“I came here,” he said, his voice heavy, “to explain.”

“What’s there to explain?  You’re married and that’s all that counts in this conversation.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.  “I have to make you understand.  It’s not the way you think.”

“Not the way I think?”

“No, I...was drunk.  My buddies and I were in Vegas for Spring Break.  I met this girl and...” he looked away, out onto the deserted road, “I...got hitched.  I hardly even knew who she was.  I just met her that night.”

He sighed then turned to Golden.  “I’ve been trying to find the girl but I’ve got next to nothing to go on.  All I know is, her name is Carrie.”

Golden frowned.  Was this man serious?  “Do you expect me to believe that?”  She looked at him askance.

“Whether you believe it or not it’s true.”  Reed’s voice was an exasperated growl.  “I’m trying to find her to ask her for a divorce.  I have to get out of that before I even consider anyone else.”

Golden tilted her head to one side as she peered into his face, trying to read his eyes.  “And you were how old when this happened?”

Reed’s lips twisted and his fists tightened on the steering wheel.  “All of twenty-two.  Old enough to know better.” 

“So you’ve been in this situation all these years and you’re just trying to remedy it?  Why now?”

“I was a fool.  When I couldn’t find her next day and a week after that and then a month after that I just pushed it to the back of my mind, pretended it didn’t exist.”  He drew in his breath then slowly expelled it.  “I just moved on with my life, acting like it never happened.”

For a moment Golden did nothing but stare at him, incredulous.  “You’ve been keeping this a secret all this time?  You spoke to no-one about this?  What about your lawyer?”

He glanced over at her, probably to check if she was buying his story, but she was having a hard time swallowing what he was dishing out.  “My older brother knows about it.  I told him about it a year after it happened.  He said I should deal with it but I ignored him.”

“And your lawyer?”

“It was stupid but I just wanted to handle it myself.  When I was ready.”  He shrugged.  “I guess it was the embarrassment...the shame.  I didn’t want anybody to know what a goddamn bozo I’ve been.”  His jaw clenched and his frown deepened.  “And then there was the denial.  I was living like it never happened.  I never even stopped to consider the seriousness of what I’d done.  It wasn’t that important.  Until now.”

Until now
.  His words reverberated in her mind.  Did those words have anything to do with her?

But she would never know because Reed’s lips tightened and he said no more.  And she would never ask.

Finally, Reed released his fingers and let his hands slide away from the steering wheel.  He turned his face to look at her with dismal eyes.  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dead and flat.

Golden felt her heart tremble.  “I’m sorry, too,” she said as the clouds of despair gathered around her.  His tone was so final, so cold.

But maybe it was a good thing.  It would make things easier for her, easier to do what she had to do.

She knew without a doubt that she would never return to Davidoff Fashions.  She also knew it was time to accept the inevitable.

Before the day was over she would contact Lord Mountbatten.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

J
ust do what you have to do, Golden.  Do what you have to do
.

Golden shook her head.  Her pep talk was not working.  Her stomach was still churning as she sat in the car staring at Lord Mountbatten’s manor house, trying to work up the courage to get out. 

She’d called him the day Reed had made his surprise visit.  Now, as they’d arranged on the phone, she was here to meet him to discuss arrangements for their marriage.  She knew this was the right thing to do, the only thing.  She just wished her heart would lift itself out of the depths of despair and help her face her fate without fear.  Calling on every ounce of courage she possessed, Golden got out of the car and walked up the cobbled pathway to the front door.  There she lifted the knocker to announce her arrival and with each bang she imagined the hammer coming down, driving the nails into the lid of the coffin that would be her life from here on.

The door opened and a plump, cheery-faced woman smiled at her.  “Good day, Miss Browne.  Please come in.  Lord Mountbatten is expecting you.”  The woman, who could only be the housekeeper, ushered her in and led her into the stately home.  Golden looked around the spacious entrance hall, her eyes roaming over the elegant furniture there, all obviously antiques, probably dating back a couple of centuries.  Her eyes lingered on the portrait on the far wall, a man of exceptional height, noble-looking, with a severe mustache framing his upper lip, a patrician nose and black eyes that seemed to see right through her.  Lord Mountbatten himself.

“Please follow me.”

Golden tore her gaze from the formidable portrait and hurried to catch up to the woman who had set off down the hallway without her.  The housekeeper took her through a maze of corridors until finally they stopped at a set of wooden double doors.

The housekeeper turned to her.  “Lord Mountbatten will see you in his office.”  She turned away, grasped the handles of the heavy doors and pushed them open then with a tilt of her head she beckoned to Golden to enter.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Golden stepped in.  The ‘office’ was more like an enormous library, the walls lined with books from top to bottom.  She took another step forward, eyes wide as she took in the opulent furnishings, the obviously expensive paintings on the walls.  They couldn’t be originals, could they?

There was a sudden movement and Golden’s eyes jerked away from the paintings, her gaze drawn to the massive desk at the end of the room.  The big black chair swiveled around and there she saw the stern-looking man, the living manifestation of the portrait she’d seen moments before.  This man, though, was older, with strands of gray streaking his otherwise dark-brown hair.

“Golden, welcome,” he said as if they were old friends, the rigid mask of his face relaxing into a smile. He got up from the chair and came forward to greet her, his hand outstretched.

Golden did not take another step.  She just stood there, her eyes sliding up the height of him until she was gazing at his face.  She’d known the man was tall but now, standing in the same room with him, she realized that he was taller than any man she knew, maybe as tall as six foot five.

She hadn’t yet recovered from the shock when Lord Mountbatten took her hand in both of his, clasping it warmly like he was happy to see her.

“Please.  Have a seat so we can talk.”

Golden’s lips twisted but she said nothing, letting him lead her to the Chippendale chair in front of his desk.  Of course he was happy to see her.  To him her face probably looked like the symbol of the pound sterling.

As she sank down onto the chair he stood back to regard her with a satisfied smile.  “As soon as you turned twenty I started reaching out to you but you’ve been avoiding me all this time.  You like to play games, saving things for the last minute.”  He chuckled.  “Jeffrey warned me you could be stubborn but I’m glad you’ve finally decided to come around.  Your father only had your best interest at heart.”

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