Miah (Lane Brothers #2) (23 page)

I can’t believe—of all the goddamned gall!

“Mama!”

“Oh, Sissy dear, calm down, stress isn’t good for the baby,” she trills, cutting more pumpkin as I stand at the kitchen counter and glare at her. Casting surreptitious glances at the door every time I hear a footfall.

“Sssh, would you quit that! Someone will hear you!”

She keeps peeling and dicing pumpkin for tomorrow’s pumpkin pies as if she hasn’t got a care in the world, while I’m standing here freaking the hell out.

“Mama!”

“Well, what did you want me to do, Cecelia?” she asks, finally losing patience. “Beau invited him. I couldn’t just turn him away when he got here, now could I? Anyway, you have something to tell the boy, so you should be grateful he came to you.”

I feel myself bubbling with angry resentment, and for the second time in my life I explode and neglect to show my mother the respect she’s due.

“Grateful? He’s sitting in the den sharing drinks with Daddy and Justin while I… All I asked for was a little time, Mama! Why can’t you just understand that!”

“Time for what, Sis?” she asks, raising a regal blonde brow at me. “To stick your head in the sand and hide? You think now that fancy shmancy art gallery called for more of your work you don’t need him?”

Goddammit, how does she know I’ve made a good amount of money and that my art has finally taken off? I haven’t told a soul.

“I overheard you on the phone. I know you, Cecelia, and I know how your mind works when you think you’re in trouble. You ignore the issue and just keep going till it’s either gone or your daddy has taken care of the problem. Well, not anymore. You tell that boy, or I will,” she says harshly, pointing the tip of the knife at me for emphasis.

I… It’s silly to be this afraid of something, but I truly am. Not because I’m not happy, because I am. I’m twenty-eight years old, and the thought of a soft, cuddly baby makes me giddy with excitement.

I’m just not sure that having this permanent connection to Vincent is a great idea. I’ve only just managed to shake loose the sadness that had been dogging me and resolved to move full steam ahead with my life.

And now I can’t.

“Just give me some time. Please. They’re already so batshit crazy about that whole Eric thing. If they find out…” I can’t say it for fear he’ll all of a sudden come barreling in and sweep me off my feet. “You know how daddy and Jus can be. Vincent’s worse. I got a paper cut and he acted like I needed stitches!”

This made my mother laugh so hard I had to grab the knife out of her hand for fear she’d either cut herself or me.

“It’s not funny!”

“Of course it is. Your father was the same way with me. And don’t even get me started on the childbirth. He almost had a heart attack when Justin and Kristen were born. He flat out fainted in the delivery room the night we had you.”

“Seriously?”

It’s hard to compute. I mean, my dad is over six feet tall—not quite Vincent stature, but darned close—and still muscled despite being close to sixty. I can’t imagine the great big Beau Bennet fainting for any reason.

“Yeah. That year I went into the hospital to get my knee checked? He threatened to cut the doctor’s balls off if he so much as hurt a hair on my head, and then he cried when I came out of it fine. So you see, our men are hard and tough, but gooey inside when it comes to us. If that boy don’t love you, I’ll eat my gardening gloves.”

The words freeze me for a second, shooting thrilling shards of heated longing through me. If only that were true. But I know better. Vincent might like me, and even respect me, but the man has no feelings of love for me, and I know it.

And now I have to sit across from him at dinner and pretend not to feel anything besides an acquaintance that is killing me. I wish I’d never gotten involved and fallen in love with Vincent Blake because I know that when I finally break the news to him my freedom will be short-lived.

***

“You can’t avoid me forever, dove.”

I shiver as those husky words wend a warm trail over the skin of my nape and turn around, surreptitiously eyeing the patio doors and the people milling about in the living room.

Justin is glued to Bee like a vine, the Parkers are laughing and joking with Mama and Daddy, and Jeffrey seems lost in his thoughts where he’s sitting alone off to the side, despite my attempts to draw him into conversation all night.

That leaves me alone on the patio, where I’d come for some fresh air and to walk off the nausea of a dinner I’d been forced to eat under the watchful eyes of my parents and Vincent.

Who seems to not take a hint and has followed me outside.

“I’m not avoiding you, Vincent, I just needed some fresh air.”

“Come now, dove, I thought we prided ourselves on honesty. No games, remember?” he chides, taking my face in one hand to bring my gaze to his.

“Like that game you played with me? ‘Oh, dove, I’ll call you. I can’t wait to hear your voice again. I’m dying to see you’,” I mimic, shooting him a scathing glare and curling my lip to let him know how disgusted I am. “You couldn’t go five measly days without sticking your dick in another woman. You seriously are a player.”

His eyes flare for the briefest second before the usual mask of urbanity falls back into place, and I panic somewhat when his full lips curl in a mocking show of humor.

“Jealous then, dove?” he drawls, spearing his hand into my hair to pull my face to his.

“No!”

But I am, I realize, resisting the urge to lean that scant inch closer and taste his sensual lips. I hate him for turning to another woman, as if what I’d offered wasn’t enough to hold him, and I hate myself more for wanting him anyway.

“Ah, but I think you are. I think the thought of me with another drives you crazy. Does it bother you to think of my lips caressing her skin?” he muses, blowing a puff of heated air onto my trembling lips. “Can you stand the thought of my hands stroking over another woman’s skin, her mouth, as I bring her the same pleasure I’ve given you?”

No! I want to slap his smug face and rip out his hair for doing this to me. I have never been one of those woman who would willingly humiliate herself for a man, and yet, as he stands here taunting me, I want nothing more than to hurt him the same way he’s hurt me.

But I can’t, and not only because of the secret joy I now carry, but because I will never forget his savageness when he’d come to my rescue. Vincent Blake may not love me, or be worthy of what I feel for him, but the man is honorable enough to have earned my respect and gratitude, if nothing else.

“I’ll be returning to New York after Christmas,” I say, changing the subject and pulling away to wander over to the lit pool. “I’ll call you when we get back. We need to talk.”

Thank God he remains a few paces behind me and seems content not to push the subject, oddly enough, because I think he regrets the faint sheen of tears I’m not able to stem.

“Tell me now, dove.”

That damnable name! Every time he uses the endearment he shreds another sliver of my stupid heart.

“No. Not here. I just want to get through the holidays with my parents and get Bee the hell out of my world. Then we’ll talk.”

“Bee? What’s wrong?”

I smile humorlessly and shake my head, turning back to the pool and the soft breeze whispering through the trees before turning back to him.

“Nothing. We’re just not seeing eye to eye at the moment.”

I’m not about to tell him that Bee is solely responsible for my brush with death. I haven’t even told my parents—thanks to Justin’s pleading—because I know that no matter how much they love Bee, they will go nuts.

At Mama’s instigation I now recall every pounding slam of Vincent’s fists that night, and while I know he’d never lay a hand on Bee, I’m not sure he won’t do something else to punish her.

He may not love me, but he wants me, that much is clear, and he’ll be furious to learn that Bee’s recklessness almost robbed him of something I’m very sure he considers his property.

“Dove, can you not talk to me? We’re still friends, aren’t we?” he asks, sending another arrow of pain through my heart.

Yes, as much as I want to deny it, we share as much friendship as we did sexual need. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of whatever time we spent together mainly consisted of ripping each other’s clothes off and going at it, wherever and whenever we could, but I can’t deny that Vincent had spent as much time talking to me and making me laugh.

“Yes, but I can’t… It’s not the right time for this. I just need some space to work things out in my head.”

And figure out how the heck I’m going to convince you not to overtake my life. Because I know that once he finds out about the child he’ll be on me like white on rice.

Damned controlling tycoon.

I hear him sigh deeply before joining me to tug me down. He’s rolled up his pant legs, and sighs when his feet dip into the cool water as he sits on the side.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Brennan,” he finally says when I capitulate and join him.

“I don’t—”

“We’ve scoured New York City and the surrounding areas, but besides that one sighting in the Bronx, he’s still at large. As much as it annoys me to admit, I don’t think returning to the city is a good idea.”

“Well, too bad. I refuse to hide out here because that asshole is a maniac. My father already knows what I want, and he’s getting me a new apartment and having security set up. I’m going home.”

Of course I’m nervous, especially with the murderous hatred I’d seen in Eric’s eyes, but I can’t hide forever, and I have to trust that he’ll be apprehended.

It’s also time for me to get on with my newly successful career and the prospect of planning a future for me and my baby. Eric Brennan can kiss my ass if he thinks I’ll allow him enough control to dictate my life.

And so can Vincent.

“Dove.”

“No. You either get with the program or back the hell off, Vincent Blake. I’ve allowed others to rule my actions too much of late, and I won’t do it anymore.”

With that last warning I rise and walk away, leaving him staring after me broodingly.

This is my time.

Thanksgiving passed in a hectic flurry of activity and preparations that allowed me to avoid Vincent and my mother’s probing glares easily enough.

I’d even managed to avoid saying goodbye to him the morning of his departure by convincing Jeffrey to ferry me into town on a last minute gift shopping expedition.

Christmas morning, though, had been a trial as I’d been forced to accept Bee’s gift, even though I couldn’t bring myself to get her anything. It had brought tears to my eyes and cracked my stony heart when she’d torn back the wrapping to reveal a print of the
Sunflowers
she’d been searching for.

It was perfect, right down to the exact shading.

It had taken every power of self-control I possessed not to break down and fling myself at her, but I couldn’t do it. For Bee to finally pull herself together and accept responsibility for the mess she’s made, she needs to suffer a little.

Plus, I’m still a little pissed at her.

So I’d thanked her stonily and retreated to my bedroom while everyone else went on to breakfast. Now, as I sit in the confines of Jeff’s luxury jet, making my way back to the city that is in my blood, I feel a sense of fearful excitement and a not too small amount of fear.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Stay with me for a few weeks. Just till we’ve caught Brennan,” Jeff begs, his deep blue eyes pleading with me. “I won’t impose any restrictions on you other than to ask that you let my security guy shadow you. Please, Sis, I won’t be able to sleep a wink knowing you’re alone with that asshole on the loose.”

I sigh heavily, acknowledging the fear that had been plaguing me since we’d taken off. Sure, I’d made that big speech to Vincent and then to my parents about not allowing Eric’s specter to rule the rest of my life, but I am all too human, and as the jet nears the city I have to admit that I am terrified of living alone. I still have nightmares about Eric creeping into my apartment while I sleep.

I could take the risk with my life, but not now, not when my child’s life depends on my continued survival.

“I-I think I’d be okay with that. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’m still a little shaky about his disappearance, and the thought of waking up with that madman in my apartment… Don’t tell Daddy?”

I breathe out a sigh of relief when he nods and pulls me into his chest, his strong heartbeat and the heat of his arms erasing the panic that’s bubbling beneath the surface.

Amazingly, since Vincent left, Jeff and I had spent enough time together that we’re now more friends than anything else. I’ve come to know him so much better than the controlling brother and autocrat that Bee had described.

Underneath all that fire and bluster lies a sweet man still recovering from a broken heart and the pressures of running a multimillion dollar empire.

“I wish I could have fallen for you before I met that harlot,” he sighs for the millionth time, stroking the hair back off my forehead as I snuggle closer.

“You don’t think that would be weird? You’re like a big brother to me,” I laugh.

“Yeah, but my offer still stands if you decide not to tell Blake about the baby. I’d be good to you and the kid.”

“Yeah, but that’s not right, for either of us. I want a man who’ll love me completely, and you, you deserve a grand love. I refuse to let you settle for companionship, and furthermore, I will not stop harassing you if you continue to lock yourself away, only accepting one night stands with those gold digging hussies you’ve been doing. Seriously, Jeff, you’re better than that.”

“Jesus, why did I ever think being your friend would be easy?”

“I dunno. You have been drinking more lately,” I giggle, scowling mockingly when he tweaks my hair.

“Only to get through Christmas without wringing Bianca’s neck.”

Yeah, you and me both, buddy. I’d been determined not to spill the beans on Bee, for obvious reasons, but Jeff had noticed my freeze out attitude and harangued me mercilessly till I’d finally blurted it all out to him.

Let’s just say that she’s lucky she’s his baby sister, or I really believe Jeff would have killed her for her stupidity.

“You’re going to have to forgive her eventually, you know. I’m just waiting for her to regrow her spine before I let her back in. I suspect that won’t be too long in the making, if Justin has anything to say about it.”

He snorts and presses a swift kiss to my hair.

“More power to your brother. I just hope she can be sensible enough to fall for the guy and isn’t just using him as a crutch to get over this shit. I’d hate to see his heart get broken. Bianca is spoiled, Sis, and I hate to say it, but if she doesn’t love him there’s no way a city girl like her will be content as a rancher’s wife.”

That’s my fear too, but I don’t say anything as the pilot activates the seatbelt light and we start our descent.

“At the very least, you staying with me should drive Blake crazy,” he laughs suddenly, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I don’t play games like that, Jeff,” I say, but I’m laughing too at the thought of the look on Vincent’s face if he should ever see us together.

The man is just too much. He’s called me every night since the day he returned to New York and kept up a steady stream of communication despite my lackluster responses and my outright rudeness at times. What can I say? Pregnancy hormones coupled with my still-simmering bitterness over that stick insect model make for a real doozy of a grudge.

“You won’t get anywhere with a guy like him if you don’t play your cards right, Sis. Trust me, I should know: I’m one of those controlling types. The only way to get a man like Blake to take you seriously is to play him at his own game. I’m in if you are,” he urges, wiggling his brows. “We can be the next hot couple. Just think, Sis, you’d have someone on your arm at all those exhibitions Vern’s scheduled, and you can rub it in his face.”

I suspect Jeff also wants to rub it in Julia’s face—his ex is a huge force in the art world—but I refrain from pointing it out and shrug instead, enjoying his mischief and seriously considering his words. Maybe showing Vincent that he’s not the only fish in our small pond isn’t such a bad idea.

I have to tell him soon, I know, but there’s no law against using his own tactics to stir up his well-ordered existence.

“Deal.”