The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée (8 page)

None.

* * *

Shane hadn’t expected anybody to come to the airport—he hadn’t told anyone he was coming home. His plan was to have a car pick them up and go to his place. His family’s concierge service had set up a romantic dinner for two on the balcony, and toward the end of their dinner he’d give Ginger the ring back. He’d considered giving it to her in Thailand as soon as it’d arrived, but it seemed better to do it properly and romantically, just the way all women dreamed of. The concierge had promised it’d be perfect, and Ginger might be even overcome with joy and cry.

Heh
, he thought with a small grin. She didn’t have to cry. Just being happy would be good enough. He didn’t remember how he’d proposed, but hopefully the second time would be just as memorable as the first.

But the moment he stepped off the plane, a horde of extremely well-dressed people mobbed him. The women among them were expensively perfumed as well. He stared at the madhouse, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Shane, Shane!” the oldest person from the group hugged him. Her scent was familiar although he couldn’t quite place it. Despite her age, she was beautiful, her skin flawless, her bones delicate and elegantly formed. A black Chanel dress on her made her look like she was attending a funeral, but she wore a big smile on her face. “It’s so good to have you back home.”

“Yeah, man.” A tall dark man slapped his shoulder. The man next to him nodded. They bore a very strong resemblance to each other, and a somewhat weaker one to him, possessing the classic features that Shane saw every time he looked in the mirror.

Iain and Mark
. Dane was probably lurking in the background, thinking of something obnoxious to say. A woman with bright red hair hugged him from behind. “I knew you’d be back,” she said against his back, her voice muffled. “I just knew you wouldn’t stay away forever.” She sniffled.

“Don’t mind her. She’s pretty emotional right now,” Mark said. “Transitioning from first to second trimester.”

“Don’t you dare try to reduce me to hormones,” Vanessa said, wiping away tears.

“Yeah, listen to her, Mark.” Another redhead, this one natural, put a hand on Mark’s forearm. A huge diamond ring winked from her finger. She was curvy and dressed to show off her figure. A confident woman. Shane liked that. “I’m Hilary Rosenberg.”

“Soon to be my missus,” Mark said.

“I’m Jane, Iain’s fiancée.” A pretty brunette next to Iain extended a hand. It had several cuts and burns, as did the forearm behind it. “So nice to meet you, Shane. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Shane shook hands with her. She was warm and gentle, and Iain stood close, like a dragon guarding its pile of gold. She didn’t wear her ring on her finger. Instead it dangled from a platinum chain around her neck. “What do you do?” he asked.

“Personal chef,” she said. “Just getting started.”

“But very successful. She’s a genius in the kitchen,” Iain said. Her cheeks glowed rosily in response.

“So. Where’s the man who got you in that condition?” Shane asked Vanessa. She wasn’t showing yet, but he trusted Mark was right about her hormones.

“Justin’s on his way here. Work, as usual. He’s going to meet us at the restaurant.”

Shane blinked. “What restaurant?”

“Mine,” Mark said. “Éternité. It’s my latest, although it’s no longer all that new. You missed the grand opening.”

“He dedicated it to Hilary,” Vanessa said with a soft sigh. “Is that just romantic or what?”

“Am I even dressed right?” Shane asked. Unlike his family he was in a white short-sleeve button-down shirt and old, comfy khakis, and Ginger was in a sundress.

“The clothes don’t matter. You’re family.” She looped her arm around Shane’s. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He looked around, wondering where Ginger was. Finally he spotted her at the edge of the crowd. Nobody from his family tried to welcome her back, and she stood with her face politely blank. Annoyance scraped his nerve endings. Something told him she’d been snubbed before—probably by his family. They had no right to treat her like this. She was his fiancée.

“Excuse me,” he said, unhooking his arm from Vanessa’s. If his sister needed to lean on somebody to walk, she had plenty of people to choose from.

Shane went to Ginger and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, apparently we’re invited to a family dinner.”

“Looks like it,” she agreed, her voice not revealing anything. She didn’t seem displeased, but that didn’t mean she was thrilled either, especially given how standoffish his family was being. “I should probably get a cab and go to my place.”

“Don’t. Come with me. We’re going to Éternité.” He linked his hand with hers. “If the food sucks, I’ll buy you dinner elsewhere. Anything you want.”

She shook her head. “It’s not going to suck. It’s one of the best restaurants in the country.”

“Have you been there before?”

“No, but it has a great reputation.”

He scowled. Mark should’ve invited her to the opening even if Shane hadn’t been in the country. Ginger was practically family. He forced himself to smile, while making a mental note to talk to his brother later. “Let’s go then. It’ll be even more delicious since it’s free.”

Her mouth curved into a reluctant grin. “All right. I’ll go.”

Iain and Jane had brought a large Mercedes, and they drove Shane and Ginger.

Shane shook his head at the atrocious traffic. “Are we going to make it to the restaurant before it closes?”

“They’ll wait for Mark. He’s the boss,” Iain said. He glanced at Shane in the rearview mirror. “So. I heard from Vanessa you don’t remember much.”

“Yeah. Some kind of head injury. But things are starting to come back.”

“That’s good.”

“So where’s Dad? Too busy to join us?”

Jane cleared her throat, and Iain said, “He’s probably not coming. Things are sort of awkward between him and Ceinlys. You heard about the divorce, right?”

“I remember some gossip rags mentioning it. So it’s true?”

“Oh yeah. She got one of the best lawyers in the state. She might even get something out of it, too.” When Shane frowned, Iain added, “Don’t you remember the prenup—the reason why she stayed with Dad for so long? She gets nothing if they divorce.”

“What if he divorces her?”

“Doesn’t matter. Still nothing for Mom.”

Shane recalled the nasty flashback. Why hadn’t Salazar divorced Ceinlys?

“Then there’s the whole thing with Vanessa.”

“What about her?” Shane asked. “Is she divorcing somebody too?”

Jane choked, and Iain laughed dryly. “No, she just got married. But…” He glanced briefly at Ginger.

“You can say it,” Shane spat. Why the hell was Iain acting like Ginger didn’t belong there? They’d been together longer than Iain and Jane. Shane was sure of it.

Iain sighed. “All right. It turned out she’s not Dad’s child.”

Ginger put a hand over her mouth. Shane squeezed the other one. “What the hell?” he said. “When did he find out?”

“He’s always known.”

“Why didn’t he say something?” Salazar had always made it clear to Shane he didn’t want more kids after Mark.

“You know dad. He said it didn’t matter if there was ‘an extra mouth’ to feed.”

Shane shook his head. What a dickhead thing to say, yet not that surprising given that it was his dad. “Did Vanessa know all along too?”

“No. She found out while she was pregnant. Talk about a nasty shock.”

Shane cursed.

“But she’s still our sister.”

Jane who’d been quiet all along turned around to face Shane. “It’ll mean a lot to her if you acted like nothing’s changed.”

“Of course,” Shane said. Vanessa had cried like he was everything in the world to her. He wasn’t going to look at her funny because she was a half-sister. She was lucky her dad wasn’t some screw-up like Salazar…then again, maybe he was. “So who’s her real dad?”

Iain grimaced. “Just some guy Mom had an affair with. He’s dead though, and Justin—Vanessa’s husband—isn’t too enthusiastic about getting close to her half-sister.”

“Why not?”

“Money. Justin has enough to fund a medium-sized war, and he’s a little leery of relatives no one knew existed popping up, especially when the relative says she needs financial help.”

Made sense. Shane would’ve felt the same way if Ginger suddenly acquired a lot of long-lost cousins with money trouble. A lot of people’s attitudes changed when they learned you had money. He’d experienced that himself after the accident, and it’d left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Okay, finally. Here we are,” Iain said.

Crisply dressed valets came over to open doors for everyone. One of them handed a ticket to Iain before taking the car away with an alacrity that felt foreign to Shane. Nobody moved that fast in the countries he’d been staying in.

Shane looked at the two-story building in front of him. The exterior was smooth white marble, with tinted, roving floodlights that produced swirls of color. The effect reminded him of weddings and, oddly, an aurora he’d seen on a BBC documentary a few months back. Swoopy letters spelled
Éternité
.

He took Ginger’s hand. “Nice.”

“French meets Japanese…or something like that,” Iain said as they walked inside. “I’m a food pleb.”

Jane poked him with her elbow. “Didn’t you claim you were a discerning food critic when you were praising my braised lamb with mint sauce?”

“That was different. I know lamb. I doubt André is serving lamb in there.”

“You never know. It might be the seasonal special.” She turned to Shane and Ginger. “André started that recently to experiment and serve stuff that’s not on the regular menu. It’s been really popular so far.”

A maître d’ in a tux greeted them. “Your table’s ready.” He gestured, and a slim blonde in a black and white dress came out. The smile she directed at Iain and Jane was warm, but the one at Shane was inviting.

He merely put an arm around Ginger’s shoulders.

“This way, please,” the blonde said smoothly, leading them through the hall in the back.

The place was packed with people dressed like they were in competition for the “world’s most fashionable” title. Some of them had tried so hard, they ended up in the weirdest stuff Shane had ever seen…but it was probably considered avant-garde or some crap like that.

They climbed the stairs to the upper level. At the end of the hall was a spacious private room decorated with European and Asian antiques. “Nice,” Shane said, looking around. “Very chic.”

“Thanks,” Mark said, coming in with Hilary. Vanessa arrived with Ceinlys—they’d shared Ceinlys’s car—and everyone settled down at the round table. A few minutes later a tall man in a dark suit came in, his movements purposeful and dynamic. The first thing he did was to go to Vanessa and kiss her on the mouth. “How have you been?”

“Good,” she said with a smile as he took a seat next to her. “Shane, my husband Justin. You remember him?”

Shane shook his head. “Sorry. It seems unfair that you guys all know everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s not true,” Hilary said, opening the wine menu. “I know nothing about you.”

“Me either,” Jane said.

“Is Dane coming?” Mark asked.

“I invited him,” Ceinlys said.

There were various winces and scowls around the table.

“He’s family too,” Ceinlys said.

“Yeah, familia non grata.”

Ceinlys gasped. “Vanessa!”

Justin squeezed her shoulder, but Vanessa crossed her arms. “I told you I wasn’t happy with him.”

“He brought Shane home,” Ceinlys said.

“
Ginger
brought me home,” Shane corrected.

Vanessa looked at a spot between him and Ginger. “See?”

“Why don’t we order?” Mark said loudly.

Hilary pushed a basket of bread toward Vanessa. “Try the rolls. They’re really buttery. Just the way you like them.”

Vanessa didn’t move, and Justin plucked one and put it on her plate. Tension radiated from Ginger, and Shane glared at his family. What the hell was wrong with them?

“Can we play a game?” he said. “Anybody who says anything mean has to go downstairs and sing ‘Oppa Gangnam Style’ and do that weird horsey dance in front of the diners. I’m sure it’ll make a great Facebook post, complete with video.”

“Shane!” Ceinlys exclaimed.

He raised a hand. “I’m not finished, Mom.” He turned to everyone else. “I didn’t come home to be bombarded with tension the minute I meet and have a meal with my family for the first time in a year.”

Ceinlys, Iain and Mark looked at Vanessa. Jane and Hilary suddenly developed a fascination with the silverware.

Finally, Vanessa sighed. “Sorry, Shane. I’m just so worried for you.” She stole a quick glance at Ginger, then looked at him again. “I’ll try to be gracious.”

Shane pretended like he was considering it, then turned to Justin. “Think she can pull it off?”

“Oh, yes,” Justin answered with mock gravity. “I wouldn’t have married her otherwise.”

Their waiter came in to explain the seasonal specials. Shane took the opportunity to lean over to Ginger. “You all right?” he asked in a low voice.

“Fine. Thanks.” She gave him a small smile. “That was very…commanding of you.”

“You liked that? I can be commanding in other places too.” His gaze dropped to her lips.

She flushed. “Behave. We’re with your family.”

“So?” He grinned, then straightened. “I’ll have the seasonal special,” he told the waiter. He had no idea what it was, but it didn’t matter. It was going to be great.

* * *

The dinner went well from then on. The food at Éternité was to die for. Shane could see why it was such a success. Mark was a freaking genius, although he was sure tons of work had gone into creating a restaurant of this caliber.

He stared at the empty dessert platter. Red and purple berry sauces streaked the pristine white china. “Mom, would you disown me if I licked my plate?”

“I very well might,” Ceinlys said, arching an eyebrow. “I taught you better.”

“Gotta tell you, I’m tempted.” He licked his lips. “So tempted.”

“I’d give you mine,” Vanessa said, her tone serious. “But I’m eating for two now.” She patted her belly.