Merger to Marriage: A Boardrooms and Billionaires Series Book
Author: Addison Fox
Date: 2013-05-13 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Romance; Contemporary; General
Description: One hot night led to a surprise for everyone… Mayson McBride has worked tirelessly to restore her family's magazine empire with her two sisters. She's never been one to walk on the wild side, but when she literally falls into the arms of a sexy stranger at her sister’s wedding, she throws caution to the wind. But one passionate night has unexpected consequences. Billionaire Holt Turner’s been unable to forget the woman he shared one red-hot night with, so he can’t believe his luck when she shows up at a weekend house party. The last thing he expects is to find out he’s going to be a father. Wa

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Frances Karkosak. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Edited by Alethea Spiridon Hopson

Cover design by Danielle Marie Barclay

Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-091-9

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition May 2013

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: The Mirage Hotel; Jimmy Choo; Rockettes; Barbie; Spider Man; Lifetime Movie of the Week.

To the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood.
A tremendous group of women with outstanding taste in shoes. I love you guys!

Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue

Prologue

Eight years ago

Mayson McBride watched the hordes of Las Vegas tourists stream through the convention hall and gave herself a mental high-five.

They’d done it.

A heady streak of pride ran through her.

Another glance toward all the smiling faces marching up and down rows of food, wine, appliances and home décor only reinforced that feeling.

“I’m still not sure why you and your sisters bothered with this.” Andrew McBride sidled up to her, and she couldn’t hold back her surprise at her father’s sudden arrival, as if she’d conjured him up from her recalcitrant thoughts.

She gave him a hug and not for the first time wondered, what it would be like to be happy to see him. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Changed my mind. Wanted to get in on a poker tournament down at the Mirage.”

“How’d you do?”

He lifted up his hands, his arms held wide and a lopsided smile playing around his mouth. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Of course he was. Her father wasn’t known for his gambling savvy. Or his business savvy. Likely because he managed both with the same wild streak of inconsistency, simply seeking some sort of gambler’s high as opposed to doing any real work or using any measure of strategy.

“How’s attendance?”

Mayson couldn’t hold back a smile of her own. “Beyond expectations. We already have signed letters of intent from forty exhibitors waiting to get in on next year.”

“Wow. Your sisters were working it.”

She brushed off the flare of annoyance that skittered down her back. “We were all working it.”

“Sure, sweetie. I know a lot of set up went into the layout and design.”

She gritted her teeth. “I designed the layout for the entire hall. Ensured each booth had a specific look and feel. And I helped close on the sales.”

His smile fell. “Mayse, you’re always so prickly. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“What did you mean, then?” Because I sure as hell wouldn’t classify it as a pep talk.

“You’ve got your mother’s eye for design. At least you’ve figured out a way to make something of it.”

“Unlike Mom, who sat on her ass and did nothing?”

“Again, you’re misinterpreting my words.” He patted her on the back, his discomfort at being called out evident in the way he’d begun to glance around the hall, seeking an out. “It looks great. Everything looks great. But we’ll see. The proof is in the receipts.”

“You don’t think Keira, Camryn and I did it?”

Keira’s challenge to their father had been simple and direct. If they turned a profit on the home show, he’d give them the entire Home and Family asset to run. Magazine. Website. Trade show. Cookware extensions. All of it.

“Like I said, the proof will be in the final tally.”

“Get ready to turn over the keys, Daddy. We not only did it, we blew the doors off.”

“Our deal was two years. Two years to turn a profit.” He held up two fingers to punctuate his point, but he couldn’t hide the slight tremble that gripped his limbs.

“I can guarantee we just did it in one.”

“We’ll see when Camryn runs the financials.”

“Aren’t you seeing what I’m seeing?” Mayson did a swift turn around the hall, the throng of people like a cocoon around them.

Her father gave the room an impatient glance. “Yes. Lots of pretty booths. We’ll let Cam do the final tally and then decide what comes next.”

Mayson knew exactly what came next. She’d known it for months, as she and her sisters worked tirelessly to make something of their lives and their legacy. They all had gifts—Keira for management, Camryn for finance, and her with her eye for design—and they were going to bring McBride Media back from the brink of disaster.

Her father had underestimated their determination to make something of themselves and their sheer fortitude to bring it to fruition. It was a trait he’d never understood or appreciated in his children. But it was about to have consequences for his role as head of McBride Media.

Chapter One

New York City, Present Day

Mayson McBride stared at the lovely red wine stain that spread across the front of her champagne-colored bridesmaid gown and wondered why the hell it couldn’t have been the other way around.

“Why did it have to be that delicious Bordeaux?” she muttered to herself as she slipped out of her ruined dress. The guests at her sister’s wedding reception had already lined up at the bar for glasses of the thousand-dollar treasure, and she was going to miss whatever was left in the time it took to change her clothes in her hotel room five floors up.

With a quick shimmy out of the now-ruined slip that bore the same stain as the bridesmaid dress, she suited up in the silk sheath she’d thought to stow in her bag. The designer had given her the dress after she covered his photo shoot the previous month and she’d been in love with it ever since. The simple lines of the dark indigo dress belied the real genius in the design. The silk clung to her figure like a lover, yet hid any areas she’d prefer the eye skimmed over.

She glanced in the mirror to confirm her chignon was still in place with its iron-clad application of hairspray and then she was on her way. Maybe she’d still get a glass of the Bordeaux if she hurried.

The sounds of the wedding got louder as she stepped off the elevator and clicked down the marble hallway in her heels. Her sister, Keira, had already declared she wasn’t doing anything as traditional as a bouquet toss, but Mayson was looking forward to the distribution of roses that every woman would get after the cake was cut, and she hoped she hadn’t missed it.

As if on cue, the doors flung wide as she approached. A harried florist, his arms full of blooms, let out a string of curses that would quell even the most well-spoken sailor. Mayson stumbled backward to keep her footing and avoid getting slammed with the heavy ballroom door.

Her maneuver had almost worked when her second foot came down hard on the marble and her ankle twisted, shooting the spiky heel out from underneath her. A string of curses of her own came barreling out of her mouth, her arms flapping while she tried to catch her balance. The loud oomph that hit her ears was the last thing she expected as a hard chest pressed against her back and a tuxedo-clad sleeve wrapped around her.

“You okay?” The heavy voice floated over her, the tones distinctly cultured and cold.

“I’m fine.”

Her racing pulse didn’t slow, nor did the arm wrapped around her body release her. A slight warmth flooded her belly, the opposite of what she should be feeling locked in a stranger’s embrace. She struggled to get some distance. The effort was to no avail, her heels clicking against the floor as she attempted to right herself.

“You’re fine?” The words were lower than the last spoken, and she caught another distinct note layered over the cool refinement.

Laughter.

“You think this is funny?” She stilled, that slight edge of humor stopping her more effectively than anything could have.

“I think you’re moving like there’s a fire somewhere and now you’re paying for it.”

“I wanted to get back to the wedding.”

“So you thought it made sense to run through the lobby on those stilts? Not that I can argue with their effect on your legs.”

“I didn’t want to miss the Bordeaux. And why else would I bother wearing them?”

“So Nathan went ahead with it.”

She puzzled at the rapid change of pace and the loss of warmth as the arm that banded her loosened. Mayson turned the moment she was free, and the impression of strength and quiet attractiveness she’d glimpsed from the edge of his profile hit her with a harder punch.

Oh, he was more than attractive, with a ready smile and hazel eyes that were an unexpected and intriguing contrast to his lighter hair. The broad chest she’d felt layered against her back boasted an even broader set of shoulders above it, and every inch of his tuxedo-clad frame had an aura of power and confidence, the exact opposite of what she usually went for.

And how’s that working out for ya, McBride? Her conscience piped up, clearly displeased with her mental attempt to brush off her quick attraction.

“I stand corrected. I’d rush for that wine, too. I’m not sure I’d have left the ballroom.”

“So what are you doing out here?”

“I had a meeting that ran over.” A hint of merriment hit those hazel eyes, morphing them to an enticing shade of green as he stood there with his hands behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels. The move was impish and all-together too appealing. “And I’m late for the wedding.”

“Business meeting on a Saturday? How many kinds of jerk is your boss?”

“I can be an incredible jerk, but today’s meeting was, unfortunately, necessary.”

…

Holt Turner tried to douse the interest that had gripped him the moment this luscious package of adorable fell into his arms, and knew he was about to fail miserably. Who was this woman? Since she was at the wedding, she was a part of Nathan and Keira’s social circle. How had he never met her before?

Her eyes widened at the realization of her insult, and a light blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“You can apologize by having a drink with me.” He moved his hands from behind his back, producing a bottle of the luscious Bordeaux she’d been rushing back to the ballroom for. “Maybe this will change your mind?”

Her mouth dropped. “Where did you get that?”

“I have my ways.”

“You stole it?”

“No, I didn’t steal it.” He was surprised at how quickly the words chaffed and tamped down on the annoyance that nearly spilled forth to ruin the moment. She’d made a joke, nothing more. And he hadn’t needed to steal for a long time.

“Where’d you get it?”

“Since I’m the one who gave it to Nathan and Keira as a wedding present, Nathan thought it only fitting some was kept aside for my enjoyment.”

He saw her eyes widen and marveled at the innocence there. Most women—certainly the ones who knew the value of the Bordeaux as she obviously did—would have begun seeing dollar signs. Instead, a warm glow lit up her face, from her dark, expressive eyes to her broad smile. “That’s an incredibly lovely and generous gift.”

“I’m happy for them, and it was my pleasure.” The large lobby had various seating options, many hidden away in private spaces for quiet conversations. Holt gestured toward one of them and enjoyed watching the light sway of her hips as she moved toward a plush seat.

“Do I at least get a name?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still a bit wounded by your snap judgment of me and my heels.” A light veneer of amusement flickered across her features. “Maybe when I know you better.”

“Isn’t a name part of the process of getting to know someone better?”

“Share that bottle and I’ll consider it.”

Holt snagged the attention of a bellman and requested glasses and his services to open the wine. As they waited, he took the opportunity to really look at her.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Do you mean like a date?”

“The question was a bit more general than that, but yes. A date, or anyone else for that matter. A friend? A sibling?”

“I’m here with my family.”

“Aren’t they going to wonder where you got to?”

“They’ll be fine.”

When that line of questioning turned up no further information, he took a new angle, curious to know more about her. “So you clearly have a low opinion of business meetings.”

“They’re a necessary evil.”

“Which either means you sit through a lot of them or deliberately chose a profession without any.”

“A lot. Definitely a lot.”

“Ah.” He pointed toward her feet. “That explains your speed on those heels.”

He didn’t miss the wry tilt to her lips when she spoke again. “The speed is a side benefit of a frenetic personality. The quality of the heels, however, is a side benefit of all those meetings I hate going to.”

“You’re a career woman?”

The smile vanished, her features darkening, and it was obvious he’d hit a nerve. “I don’t like categories like that. It diminishes someone’s value. Puts them in a box.”

Holt couldn’t argue with her assessment, but he was curious to know why she thought so. “We’re bombarded with messages and images all day long. Categories help us put things in their place. Figure out our world. It’s not a bad thing.”

“No, but it’s not the easiest way to get to know someone.”

“So we are going to get to know each other?”

The question hung between them as the bellhop returned with their wine. Holt took the glasses and open bottle from the man, and gave him a quick tip. The bellhop’s jaunty step as he walked away ensured he’d give them their privacy, yet keep an eye should they need anything else. Just the way Holt preferred it.

He poured two glasses of the rich red and handed one to the woman as he swirled his own glass. She did the same, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“What’s that for?”

“The wine. It’s so simple. So easy.”

“I’d say it’s incredibly complex.”

“Exactly!” She held up her glass, swirling it once more. “It is deeply complex, yet what you see is what you get. It’s a rich promise that never disappoints. People can be the same way.”

Holt leaned forward and clinked his glass against hers. “To simple complexity.” Before she could offer her own toast, he added to the toast. “And sharing a complex yet simple glass of wine with an exquisitely beautiful woman.”

She was unexpected. Rare. And his interest raised another notch, deepening in the light of her dark gaze.

“We were interrupted. Why don’t you like categories?”

That dark gaze dropped, and Holt couldn’t help thinking she hid secrets behind those eyes. But it was when she looked up again that he was charmed by the intensity he saw reflected back at him.

“I think the human experience is far richer than people often give it credit for. And those boxes we like to drop people into? Well, they’re boxes of our own making, not a true reflection of that other person.”

“No one can really know everything about another person.”

“Which is why we shouldn’t categorize them or assume we really know them. We don’t. We know what we think we know about them.”

“You feel quite passionately about this?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Let’s say a lifetime of being put in a box of someone else’s making grew rather tight and restrictive.”

The prim set of her shoulders and the long legs delicately crossed at the ankles drew him, the proverbial moth to flame. There was depth here, and far more than a pretty face. While he’d never spent much time analyzing or worrying over his dates, the fact that he was now faced with a woman who had layers and thoughts and opinions had him immediately intrigued. And interested far more quickly than he normally would be.

“I have no interest in putting a label on you, but I do have an interest in getting to know you better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Perhaps we can start with a name?”

She hesitated for the briefest moment before she spoke. “Elizabeth.”

“Lovely to meet you, Elizabeth.” He extended his hand. “I’m Holt.”

“You, too. Holt.” His name hovered on her lips as she slid her hand into his, her voice husky and deep from the wine.

He held her hand a moment longer than necessary before releasing it and picking up his glass. “We’ve spent a lot of time talking about work. Or dancing around it. What do you do for fun?”

Light flooded her features, filling her gaze with delight. “I have a charity I’m involved in that I love.”

“What do you do for them?”

“I work with special-needs children at a camp upstate. It’s called Hands, Hearts and Hugs.”

“What sort of work is it?”

“The program is about creating opportunity. Many of these children haven’t been given much chance in life, either due to poverty issues or abandonment. The organization provides housing and healthcare services where needed, along with programs to educate and help these children find work as they grow into adulthood.”

She knew the quality of the wine, and she was attending one of the weddings of the year, so she clearly knew her way around wealth and privilege. But her excitement about the children she worked for displayed a quality he hadn’t seen in many women of his acquaintance.

“It sounds pretty amazing.”

“It is.” She smiled, obviously warming to her subject. “The engagement these kids have with the world is incredible. They don’t see labels. They see the person inside.”

“How long have you worked with them?”

“About three years now. We’re trying to get their facility expanded and have hit a bit of a snag, but we’ll find a way around it.”

“I think I’m starting to get a picture of you.”

“Oh?” She cocked her head, a mischievous smile playing around her eyes and lips. “Have I put you off the career-woman-with-attitude impression?”

“I think career woman is far too simple a description. You’re like this wine.” He held up his glass but kept his gaze firmly locked on hers. “Beautifully complex. You’re also full of bright, vivid colors. You embrace the world, pulling it in close and putting your own personal stamp on it.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“I mean every word.” He leaned forward, unable to tear his gaze from her. Sexual awareness sparked between them like a live wire. He felt it—reveled in it—even as he realized there was something more.

Respect.

He certainly didn’t disrespect the women of his acquaintance—and all knew full-well where he stood on anything permanent—but no one he’d met before inspired such an immediate wash of interest and need. Yes, she was attractive. Devastatingly so, but it was something more.

Something richer.

“Why don’t you ask me to accompany you upstairs, Holt?” Her voice was just like that live wire he’d thought of, and it sparked through his bloodstream like a fire.

“What’s upstairs?” He wanted her, wanted the invitation implied in her words, but needed to give her a final opportunity to say no.

“A more private place to continue our conversation.”

…

The ride in the elevator had been quiet, but anticipation hummed between them with a loud, nearly-audible throb. He felt it in his veins, and knew Elizabeth’s pulse pounded as heavy as his. Could feel it where he ran a thumb over her wrist, just beneath their joined hands. Need pounded, dark and heavy in his veins, the anticipation of what would come almost painful in its intensity. God, how he wanted this woman.

She stepped off the elevator before him, and again he was captivated by the gentle sway of her hips as she strode toward her door.

“Don’t you live in New York?”

“I do.” She glanced back over her shoulder as she keyed in her room card. “But I thought it would be easier to get a room for the evening and enjoy the party as late as I wanted to.”

“Very smart.”

“Practical.”

“Here’s to practicality.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her neck, the soft spot beneath her hairline beckoning him like a lodestone. A light sigh drifted up from her lips and Holt reached around her to open the door as the unlock light blinked green. “After you.”

She drifted through the doorway and turned toward him, her arms reaching for his neck. Holt pulled her close as the heavy door swung closed behind them. His fingers found purchase in the soft silk at her waist and he moved one hand to settle along the slim column of her spine. “Are you sure about this?”

“Mm, yes, very sure,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his. When she showed no concern about taking things further between them, he relaxed, pulling her close.

He deepened the kiss, more than encouraged by her eager response. Seeking a moment of clarity, he lifted his head while locking his gaze with hers. He ran soft fingers over the exposed skin of her upper arms and wondered at the subtle sense of panic, throbbing in counter-point to his aching body.

“Holt?” Questions filled her eyes and, unwilling to let them take the form of words, he leaned forward and captured her lips once more, ignoring whatever warning bells his subconscious was intent on ringing.

He ran his hands over her long, slender form, reveling in the subtle strength of her. Long and lean, her body was a graceful mix of athletic curves and feminine beauty.

“Make love to me,” she whispered against his ear. Her warm breath shot sparks straight to his groin and his already-hard body tightened painfully.

“How can I resist?”

He felt her lush lips curve into a smile as she pressed them to his mouth. “You can’t.”

With movements designed to prove her point, the arms she’d wrapped around his waist loosened and her hands came around to the front of his slacks. He felt her fingers on the enclosure and drew in a hard breath as they darted below the waistband, brushing against his erection. Her hand slid lower until her fingers wrapped around the hard length.

“I think I’m very glad you caught me in the lobby.”

He ground his body against her hand.

“And I’m glad you were standing in the lobby, waiting to get caught.”

With gentle movements, he reached for her hand, drawing it from his waistband and into his own. “There will be time for that in a bit. First, I think you’re wearing far too much.”

He walked her backward toward the bed while his hands roamed around the edge of her dress. Once he had a grip on the delicate material, he stripped the long column of silk from her form, exposing her bra and panties. Her nipples had already pebbled under the pale lace of her bra and he reached for her breasts, palming both in his hands, intoxicated by her beautiful curves. Those tight points hardened and her eyelids dropped to a sultry half-mast as he worked her flesh. Her back arched, bringing her breasts in closer contact with his hands, and pure male satisfaction beat through his veins at the heavy breaths that escaped between her lips.

Before he could reach for the clasp himself, her hands were at the back of her bra. “Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me,” she whispered as the garment fell away, exposing the full measure of her breasts.

The heavy weight of them filled his palms, and he again reached for the bright pink nipples. While he continued to ply her with one hand, he leaned forward, grasping her waist to draw her close so he could take a nipple into his mouth. The hard bead of her nipple rested on his tongue and he tightened his arm on her back, pulling her even closer, the need to give her pleasure at the forefront of his thoughts.

Moment after moment spun out in an erotic give and take as her fingers twisted in his hair. He used his free hand to drag one of her legs up toward him and pressed himself against the apex of her thighs. The wet heat of her scorched him through his slacks, and he pressed himself against her, desperate for the promise of her body.

“I need to feel you,” she moaned against his ear before taking the lobe with a quick nip of teeth. “And I want to see you.”

Her fingers dragged his dress shirt from his slacks and he stepped back to allow her access. With nimble fingers, she undid the buttons in rapid succession, drawing the shirt off, then reaching for his T-shirt. That followed in quick succession, and once he was free of the garments, he felt her hands as they smoothed over his shoulders, then around to his back.

“Wow. Who knew businessmen could have a set of shoulders like these.”

“I’m entitled to a few secrets.”

“As long as you let me in on them.”

Her words registered in the back of his mind. He did have secrets. Things he shared with no one.

“Holt?” Her question balanced delicately in the moment. “Are you all right?”

Unwilling to ruin the moment with useless history, he pasted on a broad smile. “I’m fine, baby. Just fine.”

Before she could reply or call him on his bluff, he walked her backward across the room until they fell onto the large king-sized bed. “Let me show you just how fine.”

…

Mayson breathed a small sigh of relief as he stretched over her. He’d made quick work of his slacks and briefs, and she had a sense her eyes were glazing over at his impressive form. She fought to keep the moment light, but couldn’t quite banish the memory of his bleak gaze. What had intruded on their moment? Was it the mention of secrets?

A small kernel of guilt lodged under her skin and she fought to ignore it. They barely knew each other. If he had a few secrets of his own, he was entitled to them. Assuming he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend.

Wait…

“Are you married?”

“Am I what?”

He levered up onto his forearms at her words, his back going stiff.

“Are you married? Or in a relationship?”

“No on both counts.”

“Good.”

Now that the moment had broken, his gaze sharpened, the haze of pleasure rapidly fading. “What prompted that question?”

“You got all squinty and weirdly quiet a few moments ago.”

“Squinty?”

“Yes.” She tried to shift from underneath him, but he held her immobile with his body. “Just like you are now.”

“Maybe I was thinking about where I put the condoms. And then I thought about if you’d be mad I had them with me.”

“Oh.”

“Or maybe I wanted to make sure you weren’t regretting this.”

“Am I acting like I regret this?”

“You might.”

She ran one finger over the thick muscles of his shoulder. “I won’t.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Now where are those condoms?”

He glanced toward the floor. “In my wallet.”

“Then I suggest you get them.”

His mouth came down on hers. “In a minute. I’m not quite finished with what I was working on.” The soft pressure of his lips gave way to his tongue as he explored the interior of her mouth.

Mayson allowed him entrance and gloried in the firm slide of his tongue against hers, the erotic in-and-out pressure that mimicked what was to come.

God, had she ever been kissed so thoroughly?

She wrapped her arms around his back, tracing her fingers up and down the long length of his spinal cord before moving over the hard globes of his ass. Her half-whispered joke from earlier, questioning where he got such a great body, was just that—half a joke.

He was beautiful.

Long, tight ropes of muscle played under his skin, and each exploration of her hands took her breath away.

To think that, for tonight, he was hers.

Nothing could interfere in the moment and nothing could take this away. For the first time in a long time, Mayson took what she wanted for herself. The feeling was heady and glorious and she exulted in the sensation, taking simple joy from the moment. And if guilt edged the joy slightly, well, she’d have to live with it. Telling Holt her real name would have changed the tone of the evening. Instead of flirtation and innuendo, she’d have been a McBride sister and the new sister-in-law of one of New York’s most powerful men.

Instead, she was here, with Holt, and more than happy to simply be another guest at the wedding.

With renewed fervor, she pressed her lips to his, pleased when he responded in kind. After another seductive, drugging kiss, Holt lifted his head and smiled down at her. “You are exquisite.”

“Holt—”

Before she could even think to say anything else, he moved to stretch out on his side and ran a hand down the length of her body. His fingers played briefly over her breasts before coming to rest at her core. Her thighs fell open at his touch and she watched his eyes turn a smoky green as he slid a finger against the seam of her body.

“You’re wet.”

“For you.”

“I certainly hope so.” A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck, the heat spreading to her cheeks, before his smile softened. “I meant that to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed by your pleasure. Ever.”

As if to punctuate his words, he slid his finger into the tight, warm sheath of her body. When he added a second finger, his smile vanished completely, to be replaced by a dark look that spoke of the extreme self-control he was working hard to maintain.

With seeking hands of her own, she reached for the thick length of his erection that strained against her hip. With deft movements, she made a circle with finger and thumb, and ran the tight circle from the base of his penis to the tip. He gritted his teeth and she felt his sensual retaliation as his fingers moved against her clitoris. A hard, low moan escaped from her chest and she tightened the pressure of her hands as he continued the exquisite torture against her flesh.

Despite her insistence on teasing him as he did her, she quickly found herself losing the battle as Holt worked her body with his lover’s touch. Hot need coiled low in her belly and she felt the hard trembling of her body as the pressure of his fingers quickened, the pleasure nearly unbearable.

“Holt,” she moaned, and he quickly caught it with his lips, using his tongue against hers with the same rapid pace of his fingers. The moment was exquisite and she gave in to the needs of her body and rode the wave of pleasure he was so determined to provide.

He lifted his lips from hers as another harsh moan escaped her, long, languid arcs of pleasure emanating through her body in heavy waves of release. With soft movements, he disengaged his fingers from her body and leaned down to press his lips to hers once more. “You are amazing.”

Her eyelids shot open. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”

“I’m not sure getting off is the best choice of words in this circumstance.”

Even though the pleasure still pulsed from her core in hot bursts, she refused to enjoy this moment alone. With a devious smile, she pointed toward his discarded slacks. “Can you reach those?”

One long arm snaked over the side of the bed and grabbed the fine black wool. “Got it.”

“Good. Hand me the condoms.” At his arched eyebrow, she added a sultry, “please.”

When she finally had the small foil packet in hand, she offered him one more smile. “Holt?”

“Yes.”

“You can thank me later.”

It was long moments later, long after she sheathed his hard erection in the condom and long after she rose up above him, fitting her body to his, that he let out a hard sigh of pleasure.

“Can I thank you now?”

“Not yet.” She tilted her hips, rising up above him before falling back down and taking him to the hilt. His hands gripped her hips, helping her maintain the rhythm that was driving them both to the edge and beyond.

“Now?”

“I don’t think so.” Mayson marveled that the words were her own, that she was the sultry temptress who spoke them.

She rose up once more and then once more again, each movement over his body harder than the one before. She watched with satisfaction as his hooded eyes grew even darker with need. Felt it as his large body tightened under hers and she knew he reached for his pleasure, even as hers was within striking distance.

“Now?”

His body stiffened and she cried out in ecstasy as he pressed upward, his body tight and fitted to hers. “Now.”

The rush of want and need, passion and pleasure, gripped them both. And as Mayson rode the pleasure, she knew she’d never regret this night.

Chapter Two

Two Months Later

Mayson changed the resolution on her computer screen, amping up a sepia wash that bathed the image before her in a warm glow. She sat back with a satisfied smile and rubbed a kink out of her neck. The color had done exactly what she’d hoped, slightly dulling the photo’s background while adding an ethereal glow to the actress staring back from the screen. The actress’s pose, one of over five hundred they’d captured, reminded her of lazy mornings spent in bed with a lover, which only served to send her mind straight back to the one person she’d diligently avoided thinking of since her sister’s wedding.

Holt.

Without the slightest effort, sense memories assailed her. She felt the heavy pads of his fingers as he ran the tips of them down her spine. Felt those same fingers curl around her hip before drifting lower to cup the heat between her thighs.

No matter how many times she tried to pull herself back—to remind herself it was a moment in time and nothing more—the slightest thing had her mind racing back to those long hours before dawn she’d shared with Holt.

“Are you all right?”

Keira rushed across Mayson’s office like the carpet was on fire, snapping Mayson from the image of Holt’s arms.

“I’m fine.” She made a point to glance back at her oversized computer screen before looking up again. “Why?”

“You look awfully pale.”

“Just because you’re still gloriously tanned from two weeks in Tahiti followed by weekends at your beach house doesn’t mean the rest of us should be mocked for it.”

Her stomach did bother her, Mayson acknowledged to herself, now that she’d been fully dragged back into the here and now. She ignored the slight upset and vowed to cut back on the coffee. Her third cup had already gone cold at her elbow and she thought better of taking a sip.

“But are you sure you’re all right?”

“Keira, I’m fine. Really. It’s just been a busy couple weeks.” She pointed to the layout on her screen. “Take a look, though. The work’s been incredible lately.”

Her sister walked around the desk and Mayson flipped from the image she’d been toying with to the one they’d chosen for the cover. They’d managed to land the hottest starlet in Hollywood for the cover of their women’s magazine, and the photographer’s work on the shoot had been inspired.

“What is she dressed in?”

“Body paint.” Mayson pointed out some fine detail on the photo. “But unlike everyone else who has ever done body paint, she’s blended into a live-action background that changes. We’ve got a video we’re matching up to it with the issue online and on tablets.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Her publicist thinks so, too, and already has the cover leaked to the morning programs. This one’s going to fly off the shelves.”

Keira gave her a quick hug. “Beautiful work. And further evidence of why you are our head of design. You’ve got the eye, little sister.”

Mayson sat back in her chair and offered up a triumphant smile. “Thanks.”

“What else have you been working on?”

A quick glance at her calendar open beside her had her groaning as she pointed. “Take a look.”

“That’s impressive. Although, I don’t know why you bother to write it down. It’s all up here.” Keira tapped against her forehead.

“I like to be prepared.”

Keira followed the touch with a quick kiss. “I know. I also know you’ve been working way too hard lately.”

“I like what I’m doing.”

The words were out—part defense, part truth—and Mayson reached for her computer screen to turn it back around. The move kept her hands busy and her eyes averted, and she hoped it would be enough to get Keira to drop the subject.

“It doesn’t mean you don’t need rest now and again.”

Mayson sighed, wondering why she ever thought her pit bull sister would drop anything. Instead, she offered up a quick smile and a lot of cheeky attitude. “What’s the matter? You afraid I’m eyeing the CEO’s seat?”

“Like I could tear you away from your photos and layouts for that to happen.”

“You never know.”

A knock at the door had them both turning, and Mayson was secretly grateful for the interruption of her other sister, Camryn. “Come in. Please. Our all-business-all-the-time CEO is giving me a hard time.”

“I thought vacation was supposed to chill you out,” Camryn, their middle sister and McBride’s CFO, said dryly as she crossed the room.

Mayson’s gaze caught immediately on her sister’s four-inch heels, and she was up and around her desk, bending down to admire Camryn’s latest acquisition. “I like these. Can I try them on?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you try them on you’ll like them, and next time you’re at my place you’ll conveniently borrow them, and then you’ll never give them back.”

Mayson stood up, her hands immediately going to her hips. “I never do that.”

“Oh no?” Camryn’s gaze shot to the carpet, in the vicinity of Mayson’s feet, and Mayson began to back away at her sister’s intense stare. “What about those?”

“These are mine.”

“Well, those Jimmy Choos started out as mine.”

“They’re my favorites.”

“They were my favorites. Now I’ve got new favorites.” Camryn dropped into a guest chair and lifted her legs in a move that would make a few Rockettes jealous. “And I’m not sharing.”

“Ladies, ladies. Are we done?” Keira took the chair next to Camryn’s. “I’ve got a few things I want to go over.”

“Seriously,” Camryn said. “Aren’t you a newlywed? A state that includes daily and nightly sex? Doesn’t that relax you, even a little?”

“Yes, it includes a lot of sex.” Keira giggled as a light blush stole over her face. “But we still have a business to run.”

“Ah, there’s the CEO we know and love.” Mayson dropped back into her chair. “Besides, the company’s been running just fine.”

“As I knew it would. But what sort of ass kickers would we be if we rested on our laurels?”

“Bad ones,” Mayson and Camryn chimed in unison.

“Exactly.”

“I do have one question.” Camryn spoke first. “I’m not opposed to hard work in the least, but how is it we’re working harder than ever before? I mean, Keira went and married our takeover threat. Do we get any breaks?”

Mayson leaned forward over her desk. “Cam’s got a good point. Maybe we can relax from breakneck to break a nail?”

Keira’s smile was wide and held the distinct notes of pleasantly smug. “An excellent suggestion.”

“How so?”

“Nathan and I are throwing a weekend party, and you two are on the top of my guest list.”

“Where?”

“At his home in Newport.”

“Don’t you mean your home?” Mayson couldn’t resist the quick taunt, gratified to see Keira’s light blush.

“Ours. Ours. Ours.” Keira smacked her forehead lightly. “Why do I keep forgetting that?”

Camryn cupped her mouth and offered up a stage whisper. “It’s all the sex.”

Mayson nodded, her errant thoughts tripping straight toward her night with Holt. “It scrambles the brain.”

“You two can just be quiet.”

“Why would we want to do that?” Mayson eyed her cell phone where it buzzed silently on her desk. The readout let her know it was a board member from Hands, Hearts and Hugs, and she silently prayed for good news. “It’s so fun to see you so flustered.”

“I’ve got the car scheduled to pick you both up on Friday at noon.”

“She’s giving us a half day off?” Camryn dropped the stage whisper but maintained the note of fun. “The sex really has scrambled her brain.”

…

Holt skimmed through emails on his tablet as the conference call droned on in his ear. He’d already presented his recommendation on a piece of property, and the ensuing bickering—veiled as “strategic discussion”--his clients were playing at was of little interest.

The pissing contest between executive staff and the board was the last hurdle to overcome before they ponied up the half-billion dollar commitment the hotel and entertainment facility was going to run them. Since it was projected to make that back in about three years, he knew the “discussion” was only a formality.

He continued to half-listen as he worked through his inbox, and his gaze caught on an email from Nathan. The note was quick and succinct—the opposite of the call he was on, Holt thought with a smile—inviting him to Nathan and Keira’s weekend house for a party. A litany of excuses rose up, and he almost hit reply with the intent to say no when an image filled his mind’s eye of dark, vivid brown eyes.

Elizabeth.

He’d thought about her far more than was comfortable since Nathan’s wedding. He’d even gone so far as to casually ask Nathan about her when they’d met for their standing monthly cocktail after his friend returned from his honeymoon, but the name hadn’t registered. Unwilling to press the issue too hard, he’d let it drop, but the lack of information only deepened the mystery.

The swift knock at his door pulled him from his wedding-weekend musings, a direct reminder that he had work to do. He muted the call and shouted for his assistant to come in. He knew immediately by the pinched look around her mouth that his unpleasant afternoon wasn’t about to get any better. “What is it, Gloria?”

“A woman is here to see you. She won’t tell me who she is, but is insistent you know her.”

“Her name?”

“Eloisa Westmoreland.”

“Please send her in.”

If Gloria questioned the directive, he’d never know it by her impassive face.

“Of course.”

Holt gave his desk a quick glance as his heart kicked into overdrive. Other than the slim laptop and his tablet, there was nothing on the desk besides a closed file folder. He wouldn’t put it past her to rifle through it when he wasn’t looking. And damn it all to hell, he hated that his mother had the power to do this to him. Hated that the mere mention of her name riled him up while ruining every good feeling inside of him.

The door opened, as if punctuating his thoughts, and then he was face to face with his mother for the first time in a year. He held up a finger and pointed toward the phone, then gestured for her to take a seat. A quick note of curiosity stamped itself across her elegant features, but she nodded, looking for all the world like a doting mother come to see her son.

He watched her surreptitiously from his desk as the call wound down. She was still attractive—stunning, really. Tall and slender, she maintained a regal carriage and a heartbreakingly beautiful face that looked like she walked off a movie set. Eloisa Turner, later Blackstone and now Westmoreland, knew how to accentuate, flaunt, and present every asset she possessed.

After closing the call, he stood and crossed to his mother. Her bright smile and outstretched arms added to the illusion of the doting mother. “Holt, Darling.”

“Eloisa.”

“You no longer wish to call me Mom?”

“I haven’t wished to call you that for many years now, as you well know.”

A small pout crossed his mother’s lips before she pulled it back. They’d gone enough rounds through the years that she’d learned her usual tactics employed on others—the poor, whimpering, female act—would get her nowhere with him. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“I need money.”

“Another subject you know my feelings on.”

“Yes, but this is different. I really need some help.”

He held back the sigh, unwilling to give any indication of how tedious he found this conversation. “What could you possibly need help with now?”

“My husband has lost interest.”

“It was only a matter of time.” The words were harsh and unkind, and his gaze locked on the view out his expansive windows as he waited for his mother’s answer.

“Be that as it may, I’m in a pinch and need money.”

“Find it somewhere else.”

“It’s only for a short while.” She snapped out the retort, her delicate features as greedy and full of avarice as ever. “You know I’m good for it.”

“No, in fact I don’t know that. I have no interest in bankrolling something illegal, which is, no doubt, what you’re up to.”

“My investments are none of your business.”

A harsh laugh escaped his lips, and he fought to keep his emotions in check. She thrived on conflict and drama, and he’d never known anyone better able to zero in on another’s weakness. “Is that what you’re calling them now?”

“Just because you and I have never seen eye to eye on our work ethic doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

“I’m well aware of yours. Do the least possible for the most gain. If gotten through illegal means, all the better.”

“You like to think you’re above it all, Holt.” She pointed as she turned in a circle around his well-appointed office. “Like somehow because you’ve made something of yourself it washes away what you did.”

Helpless waves of frustration washed over him, and, once more, he forced an icy veneer of calm over those raging emotions. “Rewrite history all you want. I was there and I know what happened. I was a child forced to steal for you.”

His mother’s own calm, cool veneer cracked, the signs of her age showing in the slender lines that wrapped the corners of her mouth. “Are you so sure others will see it that way? A few well-placed calls and I can ruin you.”

“And why would you want to slay the golden goose, Eloisa? I’m far more valuable to you if I’m successful than if I’m poor. You know that better than anyone.”

“Look. I need your help.”

“What do you need?”

“A hundred thousand.”

“No.” He should have been surprised at the sum, but it was actually less than he’d anticipated. Was it possible she’d narrowed her focus and was aiming for smaller cons?

“Why not?”

He sighed, the reality of their relationship an endless disappointment. He’d spent his youth believing that someday he’d get far enough away from her that she’d never find him, but the exact opposite had happened. She knew exactly where to show up, each and every time she wanted something. “I’m not fronting whatever scam you’ve got going.”

“It’s not a scam. It’s a legitimate business opportunity.”

“Save the sales pitch for your next mark. I’m not playing that game. I will give you tickets and a week’s paid expenses to your favorite villa in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat to get you the hell out of my hair.”

“Thank you, my darling.” Eloisa picked up her bag and didn’t bother with the pretense of a kiss. He watched her flounce across his office and called to her just as she reached the door.

“I’ll have armed security at the villa. See to it you don’t accidentally walk off with anything.”

His mother did turn at that, her eyes narrowed. “You’re so untrusting.”

“You were an outstanding teacher.” He extended a hand toward the door, then turned and walked back toward his desk, effectively dismissing her.

“You really think you’re so far above this?”

He did turn at that, surprised at how little regard she had for maintaining the pretense of maternal love. “You need this, the rush. The feeling of power. The thrill of the chase. You need this, and it makes you just like me.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“So you think, but that’s because you’ve never experienced loss.”

“Would you prefer to stay in New York for the next week? I don’t need to front your vacation.”

“Just remember what I said. Things can be taken away, Holt. Things you didn’t even realize you cared for. You’ll care when they’re gone.”

She swept through the door, like a storm that had done its damage and then moved on to its next landfall. Holt cursed himself for giving her the week on the French Riviera, but at least he could have his people keep an eye on her. It would also give him some time to dig into her latest scam so he could try and put a stop to it.

He dropped into his chair and not for the first time wondered where he’d come from, and just how much of her might have rubbed off on him. His gaze caught on the open email from Nathan, and he tapped out a quick acceptance.

There was a mountain of work, and he’d just added investigating his mother’s latest dirty deed to his to-do list, but the urge to go to the party was strong. Even stronger was his curiosity about the guest list. If a certain woman with chocolate eyes, a temptress’s body, and a bright, fiery smile was at the party, he knew he’d consider it time well-spent.

Maybe once he knew who she was, he could put these idiotic memories to bed once and for all.

…

Mayson stumbled out of the car and ran toward the back door of Keira and Nathan’s summer house, grateful no one was nearby to see her practically lose her lunch. Why she had thought a bag of fast food was the answer to raging hunger pangs, she had no idea, but the half-pound burger, fries, and milkshake had seemed like the right idea halfway through Connecticut.

“Are you all right?”

Camryn ran up to her and grabbed the heavy bag from her arms as Mayson laid a hand against the back wall of the house to support herself.

“I’m fine.”

“You look sick.”

“I’m fine. Really. I just didn’t need that milkshake. Or the fries. Or the burger.” Her stomach rumbled once more and a cool bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck.

“Mayson, you look horrible.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll lay down and remind myself that I need to quit attempting to eat like a seven-year-old.”

A small smile twitched at the edges of Camryn’s lips. “You actually ate like a truck driver. I’ve never seen you devour food so fast.”

“I was hungry.”

“Well stop skipping breakfast.”

The urge to argue rose up, but she held back. She had eaten breakfast—a large plate of bacon and eggs from the company cafeteria, along with a bagel.

“Do you feel well enough to go in?”

“Yeah.” The nausea was already fading, and she felt steadier on her feet. “I do.”

“Go inside and rest for a few minutes. I’ll get your stuff and bring you a cold soda.”

“Thanks.”

Camryn dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

A half hour later, she was still on the large bed in the guest room, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts flitted briefly to her wild night of passion, as she’d fondly begun to think of it. Unfortunately, those same thoughts kept going to a place she wasn’t interested in even thinking about for fear thinking about it would make it true.

There was no way she was pregnant. They’d used condoms and she was on the pill.

Even if she had forgotten said pill for about a week leading up to the wedding because she’d been in Europe on a photo shoot and the time difference had her all messed up and she hated taking the damn things because she didn’t have a whole lot of use for them on a regular basis seeing as how she wasn’t actively having sex.

Now that the nausea had passed, the worry that there was something wrong faded and all she felt was bored. She never had been all that regular, which was the primary reason for the pill. And despite taking it since she was a teenager for regularity, her frequent forgetfulness had ensured she’d never really stayed on track.

You can mentally keep track of your calendar across several time zones, countries, and business commitments, but one little pill every day and you turn into a flighty teenager.

With a quick glance around the room, she admonished herself to relax. The anxiety was just an after-effect of indulging with Holt. She’d never been a big one-night-stand sort of girl—had often envied her friends who were—but despite her casual approach to the night, it had meant something, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

Holt had meant something.

And it was too late to do anything about it. Her efforts to keep it light and casual had fallen to pieces in the emotional maelstrom that wouldn’t quite let her go, and she now had to make the best of the situation.

Shaking it off, she allowed her gaze to travel around the room, taking in the beautiful décor—contemporary and modern with a pleasant, welcoming warmth—before landing on her bag, sitting where Camryn had left it near the door. She’d grabbed her camera on impulse just as she was leaving that morning and was suddenly glad she did. The bright windows of her room beckoned and she started there, snapping some photos of the expansive backyard that stretched to the beach.

Maybe they could use the grounds for an upcoming photo shoot. Keira was a softie about that sort of thing, and the beautiful house would make a magnificent backdrop. Mayson was already mentally rolling through her upcoming projects for what might be a fit.

She passed through a large dining room on her way out back and saw a large spread of cheese and crackers and crudités. She nearly piled up a plate, but stopped herself with a quick admonishment.

Learn nothing on the ride up?

Focusing on the back door and the distant sound of waves, she did snatch a square of Gouda to tide her over until dinner. A series of heavenly smells greeted her as she stepped onto the back porch. She turned in the direction of the aroma and saw another large porch on the far side of the house. An army of caterers manned tables, a barbeque pit and a large grill, and she could already see the makings of a Friday night barbeque in the works.

Keira flitted around the far end of the dinner production. She couldn’t hear her, and Mayson didn’t want to bother her while in the middle of talking to the caterers, so she lifted her camera for a few shots instead. As she lined up her sister in her viewfinder, she saw in vivid detail just how happy she was.

Keira and Nathan’s romance had been rather tumultuous and fraught with challenges, but they’d come out the other side and found love. Nathan had been bound and determined to take over McBride Media and all she and her sisters had worked to build. Yet with love and the right partner, he’d seen a better path. One that would carry him—and her sister—to their future.

Mayson snapped a few more shots, then dropped the camera and brushed at the corner of her eyes. Tears? God, she had to get a grip. Even if she knew that had become an increasingly impossible task of late. Wildly swinging emotions had accompanied her for the last month, her traitorous mind focused too often on the image of broad shoulders.

She could even still feel the imprint of his smile against her lips.

Holt.

As another tear slipped from the corner of her eye, she pulled herself from her reverie and let out a hard sigh. She was out for a fun weekend and she was going to enjoy herself. With a quick dash at the last tear, she headed for the beach.

Lush grass flattened under her flip-flops and she focused on the cool texture against her feet to take her mind off her maudlin musings. A tennis court was visible in the distance and she lined up the shot, her artist’s eye pleased with the contrast of the red clay court and the waning gold color of late afternoon. She took the images from several angles and, satisfied with the shots, moved on.

The sounds of the beach grew louder and she gravitated toward it like a compass needle to true north. Wind whipped her hair and she turned slightly to catch the breeze so that it blew the strands away from her face. It was as she turned that the man came into view. He stood down on the beach, his white shirt rolled up at the sleeves and his khakis wet at the bottom from the surf.

Her artist’s eye assessed the shot.

The solitary figure. The hard crash of the incoming waves. The vivid streaks of color across the late afternoon sky.

Without conscious thought, she lifted her camera and lined up the shot. As she focused on the man through the viewfinder, something about that solitary figure tugged at her heart.

He looked so alone.

And lonely.

She took a few photos before she stopped, sensing his movement before he actually turned. And it was only when he did turn, the sun shining warmly over the dark blond strands of his hair, that she knew.

Chapter Three

Elizabeth.

Waves crashed behind Holt, the foam lapping at his ankles. Their heavy sound matched the thoughts crumbling in his mind.

She was here, standing farther up the shore, taking his photo. The sun made a halo around her head, and for the briefest moment it seemed as if she was a figment of his imagination. Then she lifted her hand and offered up a small wave and he knew she was real.

He moved toward her, the sand clumping around his feet as he stepped farther out of the water. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She’d lowered the camera, and he didn’t miss the way she fidgeted with the strap. “You’re here for the party?”

“I am. I just got here a little while ago.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, irritated at the sudden awkwardness between them. “You’ve been quite the mystery, Elizabeth. I casually mentioned you to Nathan, and he said there was no Elizabeth invited to the wedding.”

A wry smile bloomed on her lips, and the unmistakable air of embarrassment joined it in the bright flush that crept up her neck. “I’m not sure my brother-in-law knows my middle name, come to think of it.”

“Middle name?”

She extended a hand, the gesture at odds with what they’d shared a few weeks before. “I’m Mayson Elizabeth McBride. Keira’s sister.”

Holt hesitated for the briefest of moments before reaching for her hand. He’d remembered her as delicate, and the narrow width of her hand offered a visceral reminder. “Do you often use your middle name when you meet men?”

“No.”

“So why was I so deserving of the deception?” A cool annoyance filled his veins as they continued to stare at each other, their hands dropping to their sides. The combination of feeling as if he’d been misled, coupled with the lingering frustration at how she’d simply vanished, had him off-kilter.

“I don’t make it a habit to go off with men I don’t know.” She played with the camera once more before her hands stilled, as if she realized how she fidgeted. “And I used my middle name on impulse, and then,” her voice hitched ever-so-slightly, “after things progressed, it was too late to change it.”

Holt couldn’t quell the irritation at being lied to—a reaction, he knew, that was tied to his relationship with his mother far more than Mayson’s actions. His frustration did ease slightly with the knowledge she hadn’t expected where things had gone. And a surprising sense of delight filled him at the news she didn’t make a habit of one-night stands.

On impulse, Holt stuck out his hand once more. “I’m Holt Turner.”

A flash of mischief alighted in her dark eyes as their hands once again linked. “Mayson McBride.”

“So Keira is your sister?” As he took in her features, he realized he was the idiot for not realizing it sooner. While they were by no means identical, he could clearly see how Mayson and Keira favored each other. Both had wide, heavy-lashed dark eyes and high cheekbones.

Although there were commonalities in their facial structure, they were less similar in build. Where Keira’s petite frame was a bit past five foot, Mayson had to be around five foot eight, her slender frame long and lithe. Yet even with the physical differences, it was obvious they were sisters.

“She is. I’m the youngest of three. Camryn’s in the middle.”

He conjured up an image of the three sisters, something he’d seen in the press shortly after Nathan’s engagement was announced. Once again, he wondered how he’d been so blind at the wedding.

“I do owe you an apology. While I didn’t technically lie, I was misleading, and for that I’m sorry.”

“Why the lie?”

She hesitated briefly, but when she spoke, her voice was as firm as the dark gaze leveled on his. “It was an impulse at first, before things progressed as they did. And then it was just too late to try and explain after things got heated.”

“But why the lie at all?”

“Because I didn’t want to be Mayson McBride, sister of the bride and one of the leaders of McBride Media. The conversation would have turned all business-like and—” She broke off, her words fading in the crash of the ocean.

“I don’t know about that.” He couldn’t hold back the smile. “I wasn’t thinking of business that day.”

“Me either.” Her shoulders rose in a small shrug. “But that’s why I lied.”

He glanced down and saw he still held her hand in his and let it drop. “Maybe you can make it up to me by taking a walk down the beach.”

…

Waves lapped around her feet and Mayson reveled in the contrast of cool water while bright sunlight bathed her in warmth. The weight that had hovered over the center of her chest for the last two months vanished. She’d regretted using her middle name, and it was a relief to be done with the deception.

A quick glance at Holt’s profile—the strong jaw line and arrow-straight nose—had her breath catching in her throat. Good God, he was even more handsome than she’d remembered in her fantasies. His broad shoulder brushed against her as they walked, and the solid strength of him was as reassuring as it was a turn on.

The coincidence of finding him on the beach wasn’t lost on her. Of all the people she could have come across in her casual stroll around the grounds, she’d found the one man on the planet who’d barely left her thoughts.

If she were being fair, she could hardly blame him for the fleeting anger she saw reflected in his gaze. In all the hours she’d spent thinking of that night with him and how she might do it differently, she couldn’t ever imagine giving him her real name. Her real name meant business conversations, not sexy flirtations over rich red wine. Which was why she’d held back a bit of the truth.

“You enjoy photography?”

“I do. Anything visual keeps my attention. Give me spreadsheets or copy, and I’m fairly useless.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve got quite a successful operation on your hands at McBride Media.”

“Which is all about the power of three separate talents working together.”

The years they’d spent reviving their family magazine company had been epitomized by teamwork. Mayson knew their success had been about a boatload of hard work, coupled with the fact the three of them had pooled their interests and talents.

“You and your sisters have certainly proven the value of teamwork, and the business community has noticed.”

She couldn’t stop the smile at the irony of his words. “That notice nearly had Nathan taking over the company.”

“Fortunately, he came to his senses.”

She risked another glance at his profile and almost stumbled as she caught his hard, piercing stare. “What about you? I didn’t get a real sense of what you do. We spoke of…other things.”

“Real estate, primarily. I’ve got other investments as well.”

“Are you working with Nathan on his Las Vegas property?”

Mayson knew her brother-in-law had taken on an aggressive expansion of his own business empire with the hotel and casino he was building in Sin City. It would make sense his business partner in the venture was invited to the wedding.

“I closed that deal for him.”

“Impressive.”

“It was one of my firm’s larger deals.”

She didn’t miss the pride in his voice, or the clear reluctance to say much beyond the basics.

“It’s massive, Holt. He’s building a monstrosity.”

“It’ll be a very lucrative monstrosity when he’s done with it.”

“The size and scope of it is mind-boggling.” She didn’t have many details about the hotel, but the few things she did know had built an image in her mind of large, ornate towers, a vast gaming area, and rooms outfitted in luxurious trappings. She’d already gained Nathan’s commitment to let her in to photograph a multi-part series on the construction, the selection of the décor, and the shops and restaurants they’d feature.

“Nathan and I get along because we both think big. The project would have hardly been interesting if he wanted to build a four-story inn.”

“No, I suppose not.”

The comment about thinking big had a small detail drumming at the back of her mind. “Were you responsible for that building in Dubai? The one with the beach and exotic animals in the lobby.”

“Yep.”

“The management of the animals alone must be a nightmare.”

For the first time since she’d come upon him along the shore, she could see his shoulders relax as a grin split his face. “It did involve some logistics that had me stretching my skills.”

“Lions and tigers. Who’d have thought?”

“Don’t forget the jaguar and the cheetah, too.”

“Well, by all accounts, you’ve made quite an impression. The hotel is considered both exotic and luxurious. Animal rights organizations have held it up as a modern, innovative way to care for recovering animals.”

“That was the goal.” That laser-sharp gaze stayed level on hers. “You seem to know quite a bit about it.”

“I saw photo proofs yesterday. We’re featuring the hotel in an upcoming article in our travel title, Travel Adventures. The photographer couldn’t stop talking about what a great time he had there. Las Vegas must seem tame by comparison.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Vegas has more going for it than gambling and showgirls. Part of the fun for me is finding what’s next.”

“Always trying to out-do yourself.”

“You sound like you know the feeling.”

“You’ve just summed up the magazine business in a nutshell. We’re always trying to up the stakes. Make the next issue better. The next web piece more innovative.”

Holt stopped and turned toward her. She was struck once more by the breadth of his shoulders and the hard lines of his jaw. “By all accounts, you’re doing a stunning job of it.”

“Thank you.”

A heavy shout from the line of houses at their backs had them both turning, and Mayson saw her brother-in-law, Nathan, waving at them.

She lifted her hand in a wave, the interruption welcome, even as she admitted to herself she wanted to stay in Holt’s orbit for as long as possible. “The barbecue’s starting soon. We should get back.”

“Probably.” He laid a hand on her arm, the simple gesture enough to shoot a wash of heat through her body no amount of water at her feet could cool.

She nodded before turning and walking toward the house and the sanctuary it offered from his knowing gaze.

…

Holt was still thinking about the puzzle that was Mayson Elizabeth McBride later that night as he and Nathan swirled Scotch and smoked cigars in a small study on the second floor.

“These might be cliché,” Nathan held up his cigar, “but I could care less. Damn, there’s nothing like a good cigar.”

“You won’t get any arguments from me.”

“I’m glad you were able to pull yourself away from your commitments and join us for the weekend. Keira’s glad, too.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, who can argue with a weekend away at the beach? Like this cigar, it just works.” The satisfied look on his friend’s face had Holt shifting gears. “You’re happy.”

Nathan leaned forward, his look conspiratorial as he set his glass on the small table that bookended the oversized chairs they sat on. “Don’t tell anyone, all right?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a boy scout.”

“No, but I am a friend and I know the code. Your secret’s safe with me. I’m not sure it’s really a secret, though.”

“How’s that?”

“That goofy-ass grin you sport every time you look at your new wife is sort of a dead giveaway.”

Nathan laughed at that, his smile broad and unrepentant. “You’re probably right. You should consider getting one.”

“A goofy-ass grin?”

“No, smart ass. A wife.”

Holt wanted to think it was a shame. Wanted to rant and rail that his friend had sold out the brotherhood by abandoning his bachelorhood and falling in love. So why was it all he could muster up was a raging case of jealousy instead? “And what would I do with a wife?”

“Use your imagination.”

“My imagination works just fine. So does my well-furnished, empty, bachelor pad.”

Nathan exhaled a heavy stream of smoke. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“And you sound just like my latest business problem.”

“You still pursuing Teddy Craddick’s business?” Nathan’s gaze was sharp as he eyed Holt across the space between their chairs. “I’d have cut bait on that one a long time ago.”

“The man may be an old prick, but he’s worth several billion. And all I need is one project. Once I’m in and have proven myself, he’ll work with me again.”

“Seems like an awfully high price to pay to work with the old coot. Why’s it so important to you?”

Holt knew it was an awfully high price, but he’d pursued Craddick’s business for nearly a decade and he was determined to wear the bastard down. “I have my reasons.”

“Reasons are personal. They mess with your focus and cause you to make mistakes.”

“Careful, Nathan.” Holt picked up his own cigar, tapping it against the ashtray before bringing it to his lips. “You’re going to start sounding like your father before long.”

“Asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Come on, Holt. I’m serious. Craddick’s not worth it. Especially if he somehow thinks your personal choices should have any play in the boardroom.”

“I can handle it.”

Nathan’s gaze stayed level on his another moment longer before his old friend shrugged. Regardless of the strength of their relationship, both respected each other’s boundaries. They each came to their business interests with a drive that terrified most and left the remaining few puzzled at their intensity and resolve.

Nathan had found something else to divert his focus since he’d met Keira, but Holt wasn’t interested in heading down the same path. An image of Mayson filled his thoughts, but he resolutely stamped it out. He had a business to run, and, unlike his friend, he wasn’t interested in letting anything get in the way of that.

…

“That was a fun night. Keira and Nathan invited a really nice group of people.”

Mayson curled her legs under her on the bed as Camryn carried two steaming mugs across the room. “I liked the fact everyone was on their best behavior. It wasn’t all business talk the entire evening.”

“Occupational hazard.” Camryn handed over a mug of tea. “But, yes, it was nice to talk like regular human beings. I think my favorite story was the one Holt told about the showgirl.”

Mayson didn’t miss the interest stamped across her sister’s face, but she played it cool. “She sounds like quite a character. Vegas is full of them.”

Camryn blew on her steaming mug, her words deceptively casual. “Holt seems like an interesting man.”

“Wow, Cam, that was quick. You didn’t even work up to that or beat around the bush or anything.”

“I noticed how he kept looking at you. And you weren’t exactly looking away.”

“Hardly.” At her sister’s pointed stare, Mayson couldn’t resist adding to her own defense. “On his looking or my looking back.”

“Your protests are only proving my point.”

Unwilling to give any further credence to Camryn’s all-too-perceptive musings—especially when she knew there was a history between her and Holt—Mayson changed gears at the last minute. “What makes you so sure about this?”

“Is it even remotely possible you missed the smoldering glances? Especially since you were on the receiving end of them.”

“We were having a casual conversation. I have been known to have those with men from time to time. There was no smoldering involved.”

“There was so much smoldering I think the ends of my hair got singed. And while I know full well you could enjoy the company of men every night of the week, I’ve yet to see you look at any of them with even a tenth of the interest you showed Holt Turner.”

“I slept with him.”

“Holt?” Camryn bobbled her mug but steadied it at the last minute. “When?”

“At the wedding.”

“Who’s wedding?”

“Sheesh, Cam, the only wedding I’ve been to in like a year. Keira and Nathan’s wedding.”

“How?”

The tight knot in her throat, the one she’d borne since the morning after the wedding, loosened on a hard laugh. “The usual way.”

“Yes, but I mean, how did you meet him and, well, go for the gusto quite so fast. I didn’t know you even knew each other.”

“We didn’t. It just sort of happened.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“It was at the time. Now it’s horribly awkward.”

“Why? You’re not attached. From all appearances, he’s not either. And for the record, neither of you looked remotely awkward.”

Heated images filled her mind’s eye. They’d been her constant companion, every exquisite detail etched so firmly in her memory there were moments she could still feel his hands on her body, his fingers grazing her flesh. “There was nothing awkward about that night. It was completely wonderful.”

“So what are you doing up here, talking to me? Go spend some more time with him. Have some more of the completely wonderful and enjoy yourself.”

“It’s not that easy.”

The eager smile on Camryn’s face faded, replaced with a sudden understanding. “Was it bad?”

“God no.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I can’t shake the feeling something monumental happened that night.”

“One-night stands can be awkward that way. Do you have feelings for him now that you slept together?”

“I don’t mean that sort of monumental.”

Whether her concerns were telegraphed in her gaze or it was just the comfortable bond between sisters, Cam’s gaze narrowed. “What is it?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Four

Mayson let her words hang there, convinced her sister’s smack down was coming any moment, when Camryn surprised her by leaping across the bed to pull her into a tight hug.

“Mayson! I’m going to be an aunt!”

With her sister’s arms banded tightly around her shoulders, tears welled up without warning. The pregnancy thoughts had been a near-constant companion throughout the day, and she’d grown increasingly convinced she was right. But it was her unsuccessful attempt at fitting into an outfit before the barbeque that had been the final clue.

Camryn sat back. “Why the tears?”

“I’m pregnant. A single mother.”

“It doesn’t make the news any less joyful.”

“No, but it doesn’t exactly paint me like a saint.”

One lone, well-manicured eyebrow inched toward her sister’s forehead. “I wasn’t aware you were aiming for sainthood.”

“I’m not.” Mayson brushed at the tears. “But come on. Admit it. It’s a bit socially awkward, especially since I’m not dating anyone.”

“You’re not fifteen, Mayse. I don’t mean to minimize your concerns, but you’re a grown woman. You can care for your child.”

“What about my work with Hands, Hearts and Hugs?”

“What about it?”

“It’s physical work with the kids. And I’ve made a commitment to them to spend time there. I’m not going to have a lot of free time after the baby comes.”

“One day at a time, sweetie. Besides. I’ve seen you with those children. You bring joy and encourage them to be all they can be. You’ll figure it out, but you don’t have to decide it all right now.”

While she appreciated Camryn’s ready defense, Mayson knew it wasn’t that easy, especially with the funding they were trying to get for the expansion of the facility. She needed to be there and devote time to the site, yet her commitments to her child would come first. Not to mention all of her commitments to her job.

“You need to tell Holt.”

Camryn’s comment pulled her back into the here and now. “I need to take a pregnancy test.”

“Fine. After it’s positive, you need to tell Holt.”

Positive.

The word slammed through Mayson like an avalanche. Was it really possible? “I don’t want him to think I trapped him.”

“Did you use protection?”

“Yes.”

“The kind he had to put on?”

“Yes.”

“Then how could he think you trapped him?”

“I know, but…” She shook her head, the odd mix of complications swirling in her mind with gale-force winds.

She’d only ever had one other one-night stand, and that was in college. It had left her feeling strangely empty and disillusioned, and she’d avoided them ever since, preferring her sex inside a monogamous relationship. Adding to the complications, she and Holt used protection. She remembered them using protection, especially since they’d joked about it and she’d ordered him to get the condoms from his pocket.

So what the hell had happened?

Her hand strayed to her stomach, the thought of a life growing there—a one-in-a-million life, based on what had to be their odds—filling her with a quick rush of excitement.

She caught Camryn’s mushy smile. “What?”

“It’s sinking in.”

“I don’t know for sure.”

Camryn leaned forward and pulled her into a tight embrace once more. “Yeah, Sweetie, you do.”

…

Mayson stared at the stick on the bathroom counter and tried to grab hold of the myriad emotions swamping her in thick, heavy waves. Happiness and joy. Panic and fear. Even more happiness and joy.

She was pregnant.

Once she’d finished her cry-fest the night before, she and Camryn had driven into town and picked up a kit. She’d purposely waited overnight to do the test, which meant she’d had very little sleep. Of course, she mentally admonished herself, she wouldn’t have gotten a lot of sleep had she had the results in hand, either.

After another half hour of aimlessly roaming her room, she finally threw in the towel and put on her workout gear. “Might as well have a productive morning if nothing else.”

Keira had given them a quick tour the day before, and Mayson only took one wrong turn on her way to the house’s workout room. And stopped short as she walked in on Holt, his large form striding impressively on one of the room’s treadmills. His smile was broad as he eyed her from across the room.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.” Mayson crossed to retrieve a towel and bottled water from a small alcove along the far wall, then headed for the empty treadmill next to him. She’d have selected another machine, but her stomach chose that moment to protest its empty state and she was suddenly afraid of passing out on the elliptical.

He eyed her sideways as he ran a towel over his head. “You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep. What’s your excuse?”

“A maniacal unwillingness to miss a work out.”

“Impressive.”

“Obsessive.”

“Clearly it’s working for you.” She laughed as she said the words, but the moment they were out, Mayson wished she could snatch them back, especially when images of every inch of his hard body floated through her memories. She fiddled with the treadmill’s control panel and searched for a new topic. “I think we’re the only ones up.”

“A lot of people were up late. Nathan and your sister know how to entertain.”

The treadmill came to life beneath her feet. “They’re in sync with each other. It’s nice. Even if it means neither of them will get much sleep this weekend.”

“I didn’t see much of you.”

She nearly stumbled on the treadmill but righted herself just in time. “It was a long week and I pooped out early.”

If he suspected anything underlying her words, he didn’t show it, and they moved into their respective workouts, the quiet between them punctuated only by the heavy whirl of each machine and a flat-screen TV on the opposite wall. She pointed toward the screen. “I didn’t take you for the hard-hitting celebrity journalism type.”

“I’m not.” Holt nodded toward the blonde who filled the screen. “I’ve been watching to see if the recent rumors about her were true. She’s sent her business people to sniff around investment opportunities at the Vegas property. Rumor has it she’s getting ready to launch a lingerie line and wants to open a flagship store.”

“From the sounds of that story, she knows her way around lingerie. And cocaine.”

“And if that story is even half-true, I don’t think we’ll be inviting her to join us any time soon.”

Mayson knew her work put her in contact with the mercurial lives of the rich and famous, but she hadn’t realized his would do the same. While McBride Media had always made it a policy to avoid coverage of out and out bad behavior, she knew the success of their magazines and websites hinged on keeping tabs on what was considered hot and newsworthy. Qualities that wouldn’t necessarily be a plus in Holt’s line of work. “Likely a wise choice. Her erratic behavior’s been on the rise. Even by Hollywood’s standards.”

“Yet one more reason I’m more than happy to call New York home.”

She’d always loved her home, and she couldn’t hold back a conspiratorial smile. “I know exactly what you mean. There’s no place like it.”

“Nope.”

His ready acquiescence had her probing further. “Are you a native?”

“No.”

Although it was subtle, she didn’t miss the slightest hesitation in his voice before he answered. “Where are you from, then?”

“Small town Midwest.” His shoulders lifted in a slight shrug.

“What brought you to New York?”

“A bus ticket and fifty-four dollars in my pocket.”

The answer was so honest—and so unexpected. “Wow. That’s pretty amazing considering what you’ve created.”

“I had a lot of attitude and determination to go with the bus ticket.” His grin was back, and whatever brief hesitation she’d sensed in his words was gone.

“Those two traits will take a person far.”

“Something you and your sisters know something about.”

She smiled at that, the we-will-not-fail mentality the three of them had carried into the restoration of the family business front and center in her mind. “You could say that.”

“Why don’t you tell me more about it over breakfast?”

Here was the chance she was waiting for. Breakfast would get them out of the house and away from the possibility of prying eyes or interruptions. “There’s a small diner on the main drag in town. We passed it on the way in yesterday.”

“Good. I’ll meet you back down in the lobby in an hour.”

…

Holt parked his two-seater in front of a quaint restaurant he’d seen on his drive in. The early morning hour ensured the crowds were minimal and parking readily available. The heavy smell of the ocean floated on the breeze, and he was captivated by the way it blew the dark strands of hair around Mayson’s face. After a swift mental shake to pull him out of his reverie, Holt crossed around the car and snagged her door just as she had it open, one long leg planted on the asphalt.

Damn, but she was gorgeous.

The thought hit him hard, with a heavy clutch in the belly. He was captivated by her. And while the outer package was beautiful, it was the woman inside he kept snagging glimpses of that had his fascination growing deeper.

A bright smile filled her face as she looked up and down the street. “I can feel the ocean, even if I can’t see it. It sort of surrounds you here.”

“We’ll go look at it after breakfast. I’m starved and in desperate need of coffee.”

That smile stayed firmly in place as she offered him a jaunty little salute. “Excellent idea, Captain.”

Within moments, they were seated in a booth, the vivid smells of toast, muffins and coffee replacing the lingering scent of saltwater. A young girl stopped by their table, a full pot of coffee in hand. “What can I get you?”

Mayson handed over her menu, her eyes bright and her smile warm and open. “Spinach and cheese omelet, a side of corned beef hash, and a croissant. And orange juice.”

“I’ll have the same, with bacon instead of the corned beef.”

Their waitress departed, and Mayson assessed him over her mug. “You’re not a corned beef fan?”

“Only on St. Patrick’s Day, and even then, I prefer mine in a sandwich.”

“Some think it’s an acquired taste for breakfast.” She let out a small laugh. “It was one of my grandfather’s favorites. On the rare occasion my grandmother allowed him to indulge.”

“A treat’s a treat, no matter the age.”

“That’s what he always said.”

“You have good memories of him?”

“The best. He was absolutely everything a grandfather should be. Warm and caring, and he spoiled my sisters and I rotten. And he believed in who we were and always looked at us as if we were perfect.”

“You mean, the formidable McBride sisters aren’t perfect?”

“Hardly. But it was nice that both my grandparents never seemed to notice.”

“I think it’s part of the job description.”

The image Holt had in his mind’s eye—a vague memory of seeing an interview with her grandfather late in his life—wasn’t one of a doting grandfather, but more of a cunning business man. Her warm memories and soft smile only proved a fact he’d long knew—the image one person generally held of another was forged in the circumstances of the relationship.

“So what about you? You had to be the apple of a doting grandmother’s eye. Or a doting mama excited about your accomplishments.”

The reality couldn’t be any farther from the truth, but Holt wasn’t about to tell her that. Instead, he offered up the same polite platitudes he’d uttered on the rare occasion a business reporter probed into his private life. “I lost my family pretty young, so my memories are limited.”

He uttered those words many times throughout his adult life and had never felt a moment of remorse at the implication in his words. His loss of family had been through choice, not death, but most simply took the comment at face value. So why did he feel a distinct layer of guilt now? Before he could dwell on it, Mayson reached out and closed a hand over his. An unexpected jolt at the contact coursed up his arm, but in lieu of the sympathy, he only saw understanding.

The strangest urge to tell her about his mother gripped him, but years of keeping up pretenses prevented him from saying anything. Then the moment was broken by the arrival of their waitress bearing breakfast, but he felt the subtle squeeze of Mayson’s fingers over his before she removed her hand. And as she reached for the orange juice the waitress set down with her meal, Mayson deftly moved the subject to less choppy waters. “So how’d you end up in real estate?”

“I’m not sure it was a conscious choice so much as it was a necessary choice.”

“Necessary? I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

As was he, Holt thought. He took in the soft swirl of hair that framed her face and the bright, vivid interest shining in her dark eyes. “Working in real estate gives you an opportunity to leave a mark. Some tangible proof you’ve walked this earth and left something lasting in your wake.”

“What a feeling. To know you’ve left a mark that way. Like that building in Dubai.”

Holt wasn’t sure where the words came from, but now that she’d asked the question, he found he was loath to ignore them. “Exactly. There’s always been something there for me, and I caught the bug early, while still in college.”

“What was your first project?”

“A small condo renovation in Brooklyn. Bought it and flipped it in two months. It’s still one of my favorite projects. I’ve been known to drive by from time to time, just to take a look at the bright lights shining in the third floor windows.”

“What followed from there?”

“A few more condos along with a degree, then a move out west for a few years. Brick by brick it just all came together.”

“You may be a real estate maven, Holt Turner, but I think you’ve got the soul of a poet. It’s such a shame your family never got a chance to see it.”

…

Mayson saw the light go out of Holt’s eyes before she’d even finished her statement. On an inward curse, she berated herself for bringing up his family. Damn it, he’d already put up the no trespassing signs on that one. So why’d she walk clean through the yellow caution tape?

Her voice unnaturally bright, she forked up one last bite of her omelet. “How’d you manage to get away this weekend? From the sound of it, you keep a pretty busy schedule.”

“An executive I’ve been trying to strike a deal with is here, so I thought I’d take advantage of the invitation. I also thought I might have a shot at seeing you again.”

“Oh.” Her fork clattered against her plate and she rested it against the ceramic. His sweet words were the opposite of the tense moment over his past, and she scrambled to keep up at the change in direction. “You could have just asked Keira.”

“Would she have known a mysterious woman named Elizabeth? Especially since you weren’t wearing a bridesmaid dress.” His gaze faltered at that before his eyes narrowed in deeper confusion. “Why weren’t you wearing a bridesmaid dress? I assume you were in the wedding?”

“I had a run-in with the delicious Bordeaux I was so thrilled you had a bottle of. I had just come back down from my room when I ran into you.”

“So this explains how you became a bridesmaid incognito.”

“Blame it on the wine.” Among other things, her conscience taunted.

Before she could give in and blurt out the news of what that night had produced, Holt pointed toward the windows. “You up for that walk on the beach I promised you?”

“Sure.”

It didn’t take them long to navigate the small downtown area until they came upon the beach. The heavy waves of the Atlantic crashed against the shore as Mayson and Holt walked along a small path that wove through the edge of town. Where she usually found the heavy pounding of waves soothing, her emotions were more roiled up than the foaming ocean.

Tell him.

“You clearly have fond memories of your grandparents, but you didn’t say much about your parents.”

Thoughts of the baby faded as images of her mother’s face filled her mind’s eye. “We lost my mother to breast cancer almost a decade ago.”

“I didn’t know.” He reached for her hand and gave it a slight squeeze before lacing his fingers with hers.

She took in the subtle offer of comfort before turning toward him as awareness dawned. “And since you never made it in to the wedding to hear the lovely toast my new brother-in-law made to her memory, how would you?”

“I was waylaid.”

A sly smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “So you were.”

“And your dad?”

“We don’t see much of him.”

“Oh?”

“He’s never been all that interested in the family business, which means he’s had very little interest in us since we’ve become so invested in it.”

“That seems awfully selfish.”

“I’d say you just pegged my father to a T.”

Mayson knew it was petty to talk about him that way. She did love her father—had worked hard to come to grips with her feelings on his limitations—but every so often that edge of hurt she worked hard to keep in check rose up and swamped her.

“His loss.”

“Yes, I think so.” She squeezed his hand once more before pointing toward a small set of steps that lead down to the beach. “Why don’t we head down and walk a bit.”

Five minutes later they had their shoes in hand as they left two pairs of footprints in the wet sand. “You talked about your charity when we met at the wedding and a few hiccups you were facing. What happened with that?”

Mayson couldn’t hold back the shock—or sweet roll of attraction that filled her belly—at the fact he’d remembered her talk of Hands, Hearts and Hugs. “It’s still unresolved, but we’ve got another pitch to the town council in a few weeks.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We need a bigger facility. The number of children we can reasonably house and care for is limited by space, and the waiting list has more than doubled the current occupants. We thought we had a builder in place to help us add on to the facility, but the township is giving us a hard time.”

“Why?”

“They’ve been encouraged to believe the land wasn’t intended for such a large number of tenants so they’re using zoning restrictions to keep us from building further.” They came to a stop on a small outcropping of rock and Mayson took a seat on a large boulder that had dried with the morning sun. A renewed wave of anger and frustration gripped her at the reality she might not see the organization grow as it needed to.

“Wouldn’t that have been the case when the original facility was built?”

“It was before my time with the organization, but I know there’s a lot of history there. The founder built the charity for his sister, but another family member has always protested the use of the land. From what I’ve been told it’s complicated and messy, made even more so by bad family behavior.”

Holt shook his head as he took a seat next to her. “I see it often in my line of work. Property comes available or comes off the market often at the whims of those who’ve inherited it.”

“Do you think we have a chance?”

“I wouldn’t say no out of hand, especially without knowing the specifics, but it does sound like those blocking the development are going to slow things down at a bare minimum. What about alternatives? Do you have other options?”

“Not really. The charity is well-run, but they don’t have a lot of excess funds. To go out and buy new property before selling this one would put a financial strain on them they can’t quite absorb.”

“I could look into the zoning for you.”

“Would you?” Another shot of warmth filled her at his ready offer. “I’d love to have an objective third party who really understands this stuff weigh in.”

“Sure. Shoot me the details and I’ll nose around a bit. It’s all a matter of public record.”

“Thank you.” On impulse, Mayson leaned over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Light stubble on his chin scratched against her lips before he turned toward her.

Mayson knew the instant the simple gesture changed into something else entirely. Something hot and urgent as greedy wisps of need reached out to wrap sly tendrils around both of them. His arms came around her, tightening as he dragged her against his chest. She shifted her hands at the last minute so they settled against his shoulders, the hard muscles under her fingers flexing as he pulled her close.

Those lush, sensuous lips quirked in a half smile before they took possession of hers, and then there was nothing but need as each fought the battle to consume. The heavy crash of the ocean faded as the sound of her heart swished in her own ears, matched in counterpoint to the heavy thrum of Holt’s pulse under her fingertips. His lips were firm under hers before they opened, his tongue sweeping into her mouth in a show of carnal possession.

She opened for him, allowing him to fill her, the immediate slam of her heart against her ribs vivid proof of how badly she wanted him. Needed him. She brushed off that knowledge, shoving it into a small corner of her mind, resolute to take it out later and worry about it then. In the meantime, she was back in Holt’s arms.

With one hand still firmly splayed against the hard muscles of his shoulder, she used the other to trace the hard, corded lines of his throat, before grazing the rim of his jaw. Stubble abraded her fingers and she marveled at the sheer differences in their bodies, evidenced in the decidedly male growth of beard.

Those strong arms that held her tightened as he shifted on the rock next to her. With questing fingers, she felt his hand move from where it rested on her thigh, stroking up to the sensitive skin of her stomach. He rubbed a small area above the waistband of her shorts before running a small circle around the rim of her bellybutton with the pad of his thumb. Sensation filled her at the light touch, the muscles beneath her skin clenching in need. And then reality came crashing back in as she realized where his hands rested.

“Mayson?” Confusion clouded his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

The news had eaten away at her since she’d finally admitted her concerns that she was pregnant to Camryn the night before, but now that she was faced with telling Holt, the words stuck in her throat. All of the same emotions from earlier—happiness, joy, fear—seemed to lodge in the center of her chest. It was only when she dug down deep and focused on the one that was clamoring the loudest that Mayson acknowledged the depth of her problem.

She was filled with joy at becoming a mother. And she had to acknowledge the very real possibility Holt would feel the exact opposite.

“What is it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Shock painted his features in stark lines before he stood and began to pace. “You’re what?”

Mayson fought the urge to rub her arms at the loss of warmth and stood, unwilling to stare up at him from her perch on the rock. “I took a test this morning.”

“How is this possible?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Holt?”

The joke fell flat and he swept an arm wide. “We used protection. Is the baby even mine?”

Hurt—raw and deep—struck at his words. “I’ve been with no one else.”

“But we used protection.”

“You can keep saying it, but it’s not going to change the outcome. What we used didn’t work.”

“And you’re positive?”

“I’ll go to the doctor this week, but I took two tests. They’re pretty accurate, from what my friends have told me and from the articles we’ve done in our magazines.”

“I don’t believe this.”

The shock on his face was rapidly fading toward anger, and Mayson simply stood still and watched. With each step he took, he trampled on another layer of her happiness.

And what did you expect, McBride? You blindside a guy you had a one-night stand with. Did you really expect him to start turning cartwheels down the beach?

The real problem was, she knew, somewhere deep inside, she had hoped he’d do cartwheels. That he’d be excited they were bringing a life into the world. Instead, she had to accept that her fling had produced consequences.

Consequences Holt Turner didn’t want.

Chapter Five

The drive back to Nathan and Keira’s house was a short one, but it seemed endless. Holt kept his hands firmly gripped on the wheel, even as the urge to pull over and beg Mayson for her forgiveness kept whispering in his ear.

He’d acted like an asshole at the news of the baby. Getting angry was low. Asking if the baby was his was even lower. Especially when he’d spent the morning thinking about how much she fascinated him and how he wanted to spend time with her. Find out more about her. Be with her.

But a baby?

He glanced over, surprised to see she hadn’t moved an inch since she’d buckled into her seat. Her hands were clasped in her lap and a bleak expression on her features, her eyes huge brown orbs that dominated her face.

He turned into the driveway. “I didn’t handle that very well.”

“And I should take some responsibility for that?”

“I’m not excusing my behavior, but maybe you could at least give me the benefit of the doubt. One minute I’m kissing you and the next I’m being told I’m going to be a father. It’s a lot to absorb.”

“And you think it wasn’t a shock to me?”

“Of course not.”

“I’ve got commitments, Holt. A busy job and an active life. Despite all that, I’m excited. Happy.”

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

“That wasn’t my point.”

“Well, maybe it’s mine.” The words were out before he could stop them, and as he turned off the ignition and turned to stare at Mayson, Holt knew he didn’t want to stop them. Was he looking for permanent with anyone?

No.

But would he stand by his child and his responsibilities to that child?

Absolutely.

“Look, Holt. No one needs to know the baby’s yours. I’ll handle this on my own. I told you because it’s the right thing to do and you deserve to know. Not because I expected anything from you.”

A spark lit under his skin and it didn’t take long for the fuse to ignite. “You’re not doing this on your own. Just because you and I don’t have a relationship doesn’t mean we can’t form one for our child. I already like and respect you. I will do this with you.”

“What are you suggesting?”

What was he suggesting? Something permanent? “I think we both need to think about that. Decide what raising our child is going to look like. For both of us.”

He was prevented from saying anything else by the sound of a car pulling up behind them. A glance over his shoulder had him clenching his fists and muttering. “Of all the times.”

“What is it?” Mayson turned to look behind them. “It’s Teddy Craddick. He’s an old friend of my grandfather’s. We’ve known him our entire lives.”

“Of course you have.” The odd urge to laugh welled up in his throat. Teddy Craddick was an old friend of the McBride family? “He’s the one I’m trying to get a deal with.”

Holt was prevented from saying anything further when a large, booming voice ricocheted in their direction. Holt leaned toward Mayson. “I’ll come around and get you.”

He waved at Teddy as he rounded the front of the car then opened her door. She put her hand in his. “Thank you.”

The same urge that had gripped him on the beach before he kissed her rose up in him once more at the feel of her hand in his. Regardless of the surprise they were dealing with, none of it diminished how badly he wanted her.

“Let’s go say hello.” Mayson dropped his hand before she turned and waved at Teddy. “Come on.”

Holt followed her down the driveway as they met up with Craddick. The man put the old in “old school,” but his influence in New York business circles was legendary. “Holt, my boy. It’s good to see you.”

“Teddy.” Holt stuck out his hand, amused at the not-so-subtle glances the older man kept tossing toward Mayson.

“Mayson.” Teddy turned toward her, his hand reaching for hers before he bestowed an elegant kiss on her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Uncle Teddy. It’s been a long time.”

Teddy pulled her into a tight hug. “Too long, my girl. How are you?”

They exchanged polite pleasantries and it took Mayson about thirty seconds to extract details on Teddy’s wife and family. “She’s off with our oldest, putting the finishing touches on wedding plans.”

Mayson clasped her hands together. “I’d heard Jennifer was getting married. What happy news.”

The conversation swirled around the three of them, casual and friendly, yet filled with careful—and obvious—observation of each other. Holt knew Teddy was curious as to his relationship with Mayson and, if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see the older man was pleased at the idea there might be something there.

“I’ll leave you two to get back to your conversation, but why don’t you both sit near me at lunch. I’d like to spend more time catching up.” Holt felt Craddick’s attentions shift his direction as the man sized him up. “I’ve been reviewing that proposal you sent me last month. Since we’re both here, maybe you could walk me through your ideas.”

“Be happy to.”

Teddy turned to look up at the massive house that rose up behind them. “Nathan’s bound to have a conference room or two hidden away in here. You free around eleven?”

“I’ll see you then.”

Mayson gave the older man a quick peck on the cheek before waving him off. Once he was out of earshot, she turned back toward Holt with a smile. “He’s a sweet man.”

“Are we talking about the same person? Teddy Craddick, the owner of Craddick Inc., a multinational corporation on the forefront of logistics and transportation?”

“The very same.”

Holt was still surprised at the direction the conversation had gone and the man’s sudden receptivity to his ideas, but he couldn’t shake the notion something had just shifted between them. “A puppy is sweet. Teddy is a barracuda. One, however, who has never abused his power and position, to the best of my knowledge.”

“He’s got a tough reputation, but he’s fair and as honest as they come. He and my grandfather got on famously.”

“Teddy Craddick is someone I admire a great deal. It’s why the fact that we’ve never been able to put a deal together sticks in my gut so badly.”

Mayson stared at the front door, where Teddy had disappeared through the entryway. “Perhaps he’s rethinking that. He certainly seemed interested in what you had to say.”

“Maybe so.” Thoughts of doing a deal with Craddick vanished as the news of the morning returned to hit him full-force. “Look, Mayson. I meant what I said. We’re going to figure out the baby. I’m not going to leave you to go through this by yourself.”

A gentle smile creased her lips. “You say that now. Take the time to think about it. We don’t owe each other anything, and I have no expectations of you.”

“Maybe so, but I owe my child something.”

…

I owe my child something.

Holt’s words continued to rattle around in her mind as Mayson got ready after her shower. The house had woken up and she could already hear the festivities starting up out on the lawn.

A brisk knock pulled her from the mirror where she applied her makeup. “Mayson! Open up.”

She opened the door to find both of her sisters on the other side. “Why aren’t you downstairs, Keira? I can see the party’s getting back into full swing.”

“I told her she needed to get up here.” Camryn lightly pushed Keira through the door before closing it behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Keira glanced around the room.

“Nothing.” Mayson waved them both to the bed. The expectant looks shooting her way from Camryn had another one of those crazy waves of emotion swamping her, and the stress of the morning and telling Holt escaped in a rush. “Nothing’s wrong. But. Well. I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” Keira leaped off the bed and raced toward her, pulling her into a tight hug. “With who? And when? And wow.” Keira pulled back and dashed a hand across her cheeks. “How did Camryn find out first?”

“I just officially found out now, with you.”

Mayson felt herself pulled into another tight hug before Camryn stood back.

“But I had a heads-up there might be news.”

She sat them both down and caught Keira up, then filled them both in on how Holt took the news.

“Jerk.” Keira clenched her fists. “I know he can be cold at times, but I’d never have expected this.”

The strangest urge rose up to defend Holt. “We don’t know each other, K. We slept together once and here I am springing the news of a baby on him.”

Keira shook her head, her own defenses clearly stamped on her face. “He was still low for thinking the baby wasn’t his.”

“Yeah.” Mayson nodded, that particular component of his reaction still striking a bad chord. “He gets big asshole points for that. But he wants to be a part of the baby’s life. Says he wants to help me.”

Her sisters murmured their agreement and their own pledges of help before Mayson pointed toward the windows, the sounds of the party rising up from outside. “Look. This is all new and it’s going to take a few weeks to figure out. In the meantime, there’s a party going on. Let’s go enjoy a bit of it.”

After another round of supportive hugs and promises that they’d be there for her and the baby, Mayson closed the door behind both women before turning to lean against it. She would figure this out. And she would find a way to merge motherhood with her life, career, and interests.

A burst of hope welled in her breast as she placed both hands over her stomach. They would be fine. Even if the responsibility for her child fell solely to her.

…

Holt set his slim tablet on the small conference table before crossing the room to shake Teddy’s hand once more. “I appreciate you taking the time to discuss my proposal, even if the venue isn’t exactly convenient.”

Teddy’s big, booming laugh rose up as he poured himself a glass of tonic water off the sidebar. “Men like us don’t rest simply because of a social event, now do we?”

“You’re right about that.” Of course, Holt hadn’t been to many social events where he was told he was going to be a father, either, so perhaps he needed to chalk this entire weekend up to strange and unusual. Even so, he’d never felt more alive.

The thought hit him with a hard jab to the stomach and he fought to right his errant thoughts. When had the surprise of a baby changed into something that excited him?

Teddy took a seat opposite him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve got a sweet spot for Mayson. First smart move I’ve seen you make, Turner.”

Holt’s gaze grew sharper as Teddy’s words indicated more of an opening salvo than a casual conversation. “I’ve made a lot of smart moves over the years. I’m just sorry I’ve not been able to make any for Craddick, Inc.”

“Now, Holt, you know my feelings on big real estate deals. I’ve been more than straight with you.”

“Yes, you do them sparingly, and only with those you’ve known more than a decade. Regardless of the price they bring the property in at or the incentives they can negotiate on your behalf.”

“I’m a family man first, a businessman second. It’s a trait I expect in others.”

“With all due respect sir, our personal lives should be kept out of the boardroom. I’ve made my feelings more than clear on that front in the past.”

Teddy’s gaze was sharp. “Is that how you advised your good friend, Nathan Cooper? Because the besotted looks he keeps throwing his wife suggest otherwise.”

“Nathan’s wife is more than capable of holding her own in the boardroom and anywhere else. She proved that to Nathan, and the business community, last fall when he attempted to take over her company.”

“Attempted. Exactly.” The man slapped his leg. “Look how much better off both of them are for joining up instead of staying adversaries.”

Holt shook his head, trying diligently to follow the man’s train of thought. “What does any of that have to do with the real estate proposal I sent you?”

“A man has to have something to work for. To live for.” Teddy leaned forward over the table, his expression so earnest it bordered on evangelical. “You want to know why I haven’t done business with you?”

“Yes, I do. I’ve put several proposals in front of you over the years, one more lucrative than the next. Most executives of your caliber would have jumped on them. Many do, yet you persist in your refusal to do business with me.”

“Every one of those proposals has been flawless.”

“So why haven’t you gone with any of them?”

“It’s you.”

“Me?” A distant ringing started low in his ears and he fought to maintain his composure. He’d come from nothing—worse than nothing—and he’d made something of himself. Something decent and honest. Yes, he was driven. Yes, he was focused on his own goals to the exclusion of most everything else in his life. And yes, he wasn’t known for being the warmest person in the room. But hell, he ran a fucking business, not a daycare.

“What are you suggesting, Teddy?”

“You don’t have any heart, Holt.”

If Teddy had just stood up and done a soft shoe across the room, Holt wouldn’t have been more surprised. “What the hell does that have to do with anything? Last time I checked, liking someone wasn’t a prerequisite for doing business with them.”

“A shame, that.”

Craddick Inc. was a privately held company and didn’t need to publish an annual report. Despite the lack of data, Holt had kept tabs on the real estate deals Teddy had done over the years. It was that incentive—and the promise of getting a piece of it—that kept him from walking straight out the door. “My work stands on its own. The benefits to your company’s bottom line, of that work, stand on their own. I’d have thought someone with your business experience would understand and appreciate that.”

“You’ve got your eye on quite a woman.” Teddy held up his glass and took a sip, his gaze thoughtful. “There aren’t many women as wonderful as the McBride sisters.”

“I don’t have my eye on Mayson.”

Teddy’s eyes narrowed. “I said you didn’t have any heart, not that you were a liar. Don’t make me change my mind about that.”

Holt sighed. “Mayson’s a beautiful woman. She’s spectacular and I enjoy her company.”

“That she is. Always has been.” The older man stopped as he took the fresh glass. “Her grandfather called her his little pixie. He was a good man. One of the best.”

He nodded, curious where Teddy was going with his comments. After years of observing his adversaries, he knew when someone wanted to make a direct hit, or skirt the perimeter of the matter. Teddy’s trip down memory lane indicated he’d better settle in for the long haul. “I never met him, but his reputation as a straight-shooter and a man of integrity is legendary.”

“The fact that she and her family run with you is a point in your favor.”

Holt measured his words. He’d worked a long time to be considered for Craddick’s inner circle, and he knew he deserved to be there on his own merit. But he also knew smart-mouthing the man wouldn’t win him any points if he had any hope of salvaging the deal. “I don’t run with them, sir. Her brother-in-law is one of my closest friends. Has been for a long time.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t speak well of you.”

Holt supposed that was true, but the idea that he was suddenly worthy of Craddick’s consideration rubbed him raw.

Without warning, an image of his mother rose up in his mind’s eye. He’d spent his entire career—hell, his entire life—working to get away from her influences. She’d tried to destroy him, and he had vowed a long time ago he’d never live his life in a way that cast questions on his integrity. Or where he came from. Those things might have made him cold, but they’d also made him a man who brokered an honest deal.

With that reality came another snapping at its heels.

His mother would find out about the baby. And with that knowledge, she’d finally have a pawn against him. All the years he’d worked to get away from her and her influence—all the time he’d spent erasing the stink of her off his life—would vanish when she knew he had something in his life she could use against him.

As if he’d suddenly grown tired of the discussion, Teddy stood and walked for the door. The urge to convince him to stay was strong, but Holt was still trying to get a handle on the odd direction of their conversation. “You need a wife, Turner. Someone who matters to you more than a balance sheet. Until you find that, you’ll never be the best. And people who are the best know that.”

…

Mayson dropped onto a bench in a small gazebo that stood on the edge of the property. Keira and Nathan were impeccable hosts, but the oppression of being “on” and making small talk had taken its toll. All she wanted was a few minutes to herself.

The heavy lap of waves could be heard, an oddly calming counterpoint to the sounds of the partygoers on the lawn. She slipped off her shoes and pulled her bare feet up under her bright silk sundress. As she hugged her knees to herself, the thought hit her that she’d not be able to do that much longer as her belly grew round with the baby.

A baby.

God, it was still so hard to take in. She was going to be someone’s mother.

“Mind if I join you?”

Holt’s voice washed over her, and she dropped her feet back to the smooth, wooden plank floor. “No.”

A small smile ghosted his lips as he took a seat next to her on the bench. “No you don’t mind, or no I can’t join you?”

“No, I don’t mind.” They sat in silence for several minutes. Despite the quiet, Mayson couldn’t shake the sense Holt was trying to say something.

“I’m sorry for my reaction to the baby.”

She turned to face him, but all she could see was his profile, painted by moonlight. “It’s a surprise.”

“A good one. And my reaction suggested otherwise. I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology.” She stared at him in the moonlight, the urge to touch him strong, but still she held back. They were attracted to each other, of that she had no doubt. And they were having a child. But despite those things—or maybe because of them—she didn’t feel she could act on her natural impulse to offer care or comfort or concern.

She watched as a play of emotions crossed his features before he finally spoke again. “Teddy Craddick won’t do a deal with me because I’m not married.”

“What?”

“I’m not worthy of his business because I’m not a married man. I clearly don’t value the benefits of family, and I’m a cold-hearted bastard.”

“He said that to you?”

“Most of it. I added the bastard part.”

“He said you were cold-hearted?”

“He suggested I didn’t have a heart. Again, I’m editorializing.”

Mayson stood and crossed to the far side of the gazebo, her gaze focused on the shoreline in the distance. “He had no right to say that to you.”

“If we’re being fair, I did ask.”

“Ask what?” She whirled on Holt. “To be insulted?”

“I asked him what it would take to do a deal together. He seems to think my spending time with you is a good idea. Puts points in the ‘Holt’s not quite a heartless bastard’ column.”

“This is insane. People don’t do business deals because someone has a family or not. What is this, some fifties soap opera?”

“That thought did cross my mind more than once during our conversation. Along with another one.”

She watched Holt across the small enclave. A light breeze ruffled his hair and lifted the collar of his dress shirt. He had his hands in his pockets, but she could see the tanned skin of his forearms before they disappeared into the rolled-up cuffs of his sleeves. He was a man who radiated strength and power. Even in a pose so deceptively casual, she saw his innate strength. “What’s that?”

“Maybe he has a point.”

“A point about what?” She asked the question, even as she already knew the answer.

“You need a husband. He thinks I need a wife. It works.”

“I don’t need a husband. And I’m not marrying a man so he can close a business deal.” She heard the snap in her words and wouldn’t be sorry for it. While she might not harbor deep, everlasting feelings for Holt, she also wasn’t beyond being insulted at the idea of being used for her family connections.

“If it were just about the deal, I’d agree with you. But we are having a baby and that’s someone else to consider. Marry me and we can raise our child together.”

A crazy sort of madness leaped up and gripped her, tightening around her throat like a noose. Part suffocating, part intriguing, it was as if his words took root and immediately sprouted a future in her mind’s eye. “I can’t marry you. I don’t even know you.”

“People get married for plenty of other reasons, ones that aren’t in the interest of an innocent child.”

“How are we protecting our child’s interests by marrying? We don’t love each other. I’d rather he or she knew they had parents who were vibrant, interesting individuals instead of two people who’d married only for propriety’s sake.”

“We’d make a life.” He walked toward her in the moonlight and she couldn’t stop the light shiver of awareness that floated down her spine.

“What you’re suggesting is a merger, a blending of interests, not a marriage. We don’t even know each other.”

“We know this.” Without giving her time to step away, Holt moved in and pulled her against his chest in a tight embrace. Any thought of resistance faded in the brief moment it took him to close the gap between them and she wrapped her arms around his neck, a full participant in the kiss. His lips were gentle, yet firm against hers, and she allowed him to take the kiss deeper, tangling her tongue with his. Desire struck—swift and sure—as the sensual moments spun out between them.

He trailed his hands over the skin exposed at her back, his fingers tracing the ridges of her spine. The shivers of anticipation that had gripped her morphed into shivers of need as his broad chest pressed to hers. Her hands gripped his waist and she fumbled with the material of his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel the warmth of his skin.

She marveled at how easily her body recognized his. It had been just like this that night at the wedding. Like she’d come home.

She wanted him.

And with his suggestion of marriage, she could have him. But was that how she wanted to map out her future? Her impulsiveness had already led to a baby. She couldn’t afford to make another mistake, especially since her child now had to be forefront in her thoughts.

Chapter Six

Holt shifted his hold on her so that his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. The kiss rapidly spiraled out of control, a battle of both passion and will neither one of them could break.

She pulled away from him, her eyes wide in the moonlight. “Was that supposed to convince me?”

“Doesn’t it?” His body throbbed with unfulfilled need, but he instinctively knew whatever they said next would have a major impact on how they moved forward. “We’re good together. We work together.”

“How many times do I have to say it, we don’t know each other. A few moments of madness don’t make a lifetime.”

On some level, he understood her hesitancy, but also couldn’t hide this overwhelming urge to protect her. “So we get to know each other. Understand each other’s interests and hobbies. Explore the madness a bit further.”

“What about our friends and families?”

“What about them?”

“Will we get to know the people each other cares about?”

He tamped down on the thought of sharing his history with her. If they did marry, sooner or later the subject of his mother would come up, but he’d do his damnedest to shield Mayson and the baby from her. “Of course.”

Mayson’s gaze was wary as she looked at him, but he didn’t miss the distinct invitation in her eyes. “So we move forward, just like that?”

“Just like that. The same way other couples get to know each other.”

“Most of them don’t have a pregnancy hanging over their heads.”

“And some of them do. You play the hand you’re dealt.”

She sighed, whisper-soft in the dark, before nodding. “You’re right.”

“We’ll start on Monday with dinner.”

“What about right now?” She nodded toward the sounds of laughter across the lawn. “We’re ignoring the party and mingling with our friends and my family.”

At least it was a start.

…

The quiet Monday Mayson envisioned for herself never managed to show itself, which was why she had a large cup of soup from the cafeteria steaming in front of her at two-thirty in the afternoon.

“Crazy day,” her assistant, Susan, mumbled as she bustled in with a handful of photos. “Chris in layout just sent these up.”

Mayson put her spoon down and reached for the stack of images. She’d been waiting all afternoon for them because the damn photographer they’d hired had uploaded them to their FTP site on his own timetable.

“Why do we work with Stefano?”

Susan shrugged. “Because he’s the best.”

“He’s also a spoiled pain in the ass.”

“He is that.”

Mayson sighed as she flipped through the photos. “He’s also damn good.”

“Hence the spoiled, pain in the ass routine.”

“Did Chris have any favorites?”

“He said he wanted you to pick first, then he’d tell you.”

She got up and walked to the large table on the far side of her office and spread the photos out, discarding the few that didn’t have the feel they were going for. They could use those as outtakes on the website as extra content, but they weren’t going to make the pages of the piece.

When she had ten laid out, she pointed as she spoke. “This one’s too dark, even though I like the pose. And this one’s damn near perfect, but the model’s eyes have the slightest manic expression.”

“Stefano must have been flirting from behind the lens.”

“Likely,” Mayson agreed dryly. “It’s a shame, too, because the rest of the shot’s really outstanding.”

“Outtake?”

She shook her head. “I won’t embarrass the poor woman that way. We do want her to work with us again.”

With a quick glance through the remaining eight, she pulled three more and put them aside. “These. With this one,” she tapped the second photo, “as the cover.”

“Damn, you and Chris really are on the same wavelength. And for the record, he thought the same thing about the crazy-eyed photo.”

“Stefano loses points on that one. He should have held that one back.”

“Vanity run amok.”

She smiled at that. “No doubt. I’m also sure he thought the framing of the light over the backdrop would make up for it.”

“Not with the discerning eye of Mayson McBride.” Susan patted her back before pointing toward the desk. “Now finish your soup so I don’t have to give you my lecture on good nutrition.”

“I’ve seen the stash of cookies you keep in your desk.”

“Shh.” Susan smiled as she gathered up the photos. “They’re for emergencies.”

“I think I’m having one.”

The echo of Susan’s laughter lingered as Mayson came back around her desk to pick up her soup. The frenetic pace of the day was calming a bit now that she’d given approval on two of the three magazines headed to press that night, and she’d already been given the heads up the third wasn’t coming in for at least another hour. With the time for a real break, Mayson opened up her personal email and scanned what had come in since that morning. And felt her heart give a small lurch when she saw Holt’s name in her inbox.

It was stupid, really, this visceral reaction to an email, but she couldn’t deny the delicious shiver that ran the length of her spine as she clicked on his name. And then felt that shiver slide into a slow melt as she read the contents of his email.

Dear Mayson:

I enjoyed our time together this weekend and look forward to taking you up on an offer to visit Hands, Hearts and Hugs. I looked into their property issue and unfortunately the news is less than optimistic. That said, I’ve got a few connections and think we can work on a solution. Join me for dinner tonight and we can work through the specifics. I’d also like to talk to you about our merger idea.

Holt

Mayson re-read the email again. The fact that he’d followed up on something so important to her touched her even more than she could have ever imagined. But it was that last mention, of a merger, that had her stomach in knots.

How could she marry a man she didn’t even know? No matter what the reason—and a baby was a strong incentive—she still couldn’t shake the fear that marriage to Holt was a big mistake. She’d lived with the consequences of her parents’ mistake her entire life. Could she really consign her child to the same thing?

An impulsive streak of interest pushed against the unsettling thoughts and Mayson allowed her gaze to scan the email once more. The succinct tone of his note was oddly endearing in its brevity, but she couldn’t resist the urge to push against that formality a little bit.

With quick fingers, she replied to the message, a smile playing about her lips as that impulse overtook her reservations.

Holt:

My sincere thanks for your follow up on this. I’d love to meet you for dinner, but sadly we’re putting several issues to bed tonight, which means I’m unlikely to see mine until far too late. Could we raincheck until tomorrow?

Mayson

Even as she typed the words, she knew the mention of her bed was fraught with innuendo. So it was with no small measure of feminine power and pleasure that she hit the send button.

…

Holt rubbed his stomach, the image of Mayson McBride’s bed, with her lying tousled and sated in it, foremost in his thoughts. Damn, but the woman had him in knots.

Tight, twisted knots that gripped him in a fever of heated images and a desperate need to spend more time with her.

He’d kept an image of her, as she sat in the gazebo washed in moonlight, framed in his mind. The moment had caught him up, the surreal nature of it so surprising he would have thought he was dreaming if she hadn’t spoken to him.

Their conversation in the gazebo hadn’t gone at all as he’d expected, especially the direction once he’d suggested marriage. It was interesting to him she immediately took his suggestion to a place of business, but maybe she had a point. People married for many reasons, but anything between them would be a merger of interests.

Why did that idea leave him cold? And why was he suddenly so panicked that marriage was the only answer to keep their child safe?

He’d gotten word from his security firm that his mother was firmly ensconced in France, and other than daily strolls on the beach and endless demands of the villa’s chef, she’d been relatively well-behaved. So why was he loath to have her find out about the baby? And what would Mayson think of his mother? Of where he came from? If she did agree to the marriage, he could hardly keep something like that from her.

The knowledge of what he came from was a tightly guarded secret that even his closest friends didn’t know. Holt knew there were those who’d think he was ashamed, but he knew the reality went far deeper. He’d been raised in a family where life choices skated the edge—and usually floated over—what was legal. He’d sworn the moment he’d broken free that he was going to build a legacy. Something he could be proud of.

With determination burning under his skin, he hit reply on the email.

Mayson

While the image of your bed will no doubt leave me in knots all afternoon, I’d still like to see you before you get into it. I’ll pick you up at ten. Although I’d normally suggest a rich Bordeaux as a reward for a hard day’s work, all things considered, I’ll bring hot chocolate instead.

Holt

Satisfied the missive would make his point, he hit send, already envisioning her expression when she read the email. And with that vision ripe in his mind came another, far less lush and tainted with the rotten stench of resentment. His mother, smiling at him with that greedy look that was never far from her features.

Why was he thinking of her? He wasn’t like her. Had made very deliberate choices to not be like her. But her blood still beat in his veins.

He knew if he was going to pursue something with a woman like Mayson McBride, the truth would come out. And how did you tell a woman as bright and vivacious as Mayson that you came from something dark and dangerous and so very, very ugly?

…

Mayson stepped out of the McBride Media building and Manhattan’s bustling street noise faded into nothingness at the image that greeted her. Holt leaned against his limo, his button-down shirt open at the collar and the sleeves rolled up at the forearms. His hands were shoved into his pockets and a cocky grin lit his features.

“You weren’t kidding on the pick up.” She crossed the sidewalk toward him. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

“Too long.” The words came out on an almost growl as he dragged her into his body.

Before she could even think to find her balance, Mayson was wrapped in his arms, her own banding around his neck in a tight hold designed to pull him as close as possible. The stress and worry about their relationship faded as the attraction that pulsed between them took over. It was nearly impossible to form a coherent thought as Holt plundered her mouth with his, inciting a wash of sparks over every inch of her body.

Had she ever been kissed like this? Like she was the most important, most precious—most desirable—woman in the world? Colors danced before her eyes as his mouth plundered hers, drawing, teasing, demanding a response.

“Holt.” She whispered his name against his lips as the storm continued to whip around her body, empowering and disorienting all at the same time. How had she ever thought one night with him would be enough?

“Mayson.” He smiled against her lips, his infectious enthusiasm pulling a smile from her in return. “Long day?”

She glanced up at the night sky, dusk a distant memory. “Clearly just as long as yours. You still up for that dinner you originally offered? The restorative properties of a steak can’t be underestimated.”

“No, they can’t. And yes, I’d love to go to dinner.”

Within moments they were ensconced in the back of Holt’s car, facing each other across the bench seats, their driver headed toward a Chelsea restaurant that was one of her favorites.

“Have you thought about our discussion this weekend?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“And?”

“And I think marriage is too big a step.”

She saw the strangest set of emotions flit through his gaze and couldn’t fight the very real sense that he was scared about something. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You can’t be upset I’m not ready to say yes to marriage, are you?”

“What happened to the idea of us making a merger of interests?”

“It’s so cold. Functional. Practical.”

“Hmmm. Practical. Really?” Holt leaned forward, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingers played at the hem of her skirt. “Because I’d say that kiss we just shared was way more than practical.”

Mayson’s entire body clenched as his index finger stroked over a particularly sensitive area of her inner thigh. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” His hands moved higher and the breath caught in her throat came out on a hard exhale. “Would that be considered practical or functional?”

“Um…” she bit her lip, the teasing torment of his fingers shooting sparks through her body. “I’m not sure.”

His hands moved to her waist and pulled her close, until she straddled his lap. “Let me give you a few things to think about, then.”

Whatever thought was on the tip of her tongue evaporated in the heat of his body. Mayson hung on as he pulled her close, then sighed when he shifted one hand to her upper thigh while the other stayed firmly pressed to her lower back.

“Holt—” She half whispered it, half moaned it against his mouth. “We can’t do this here.”

“We can and we will.” His fingers inched higher and she felt the tip of one finger pressed against the elastic of her panties.

“Your driver.”

“Is behind sound-proof glass and knows I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“But…” Her head fell back as she tried to muster up another argument, all the while pressing herself into those clever, devilish fingers of his. Heat consumed her, roving over her flesh to settle at the core of her body. The need to writhe against him was great as the pleasure built like quicksilver, but he held her still with the steady pressure of the hand at her back while the other played against her body. Sharp, desperate need coursed through her, nearly bringing her to peak before she could catch her breath.

A heavy moan escaped her mouth and he leaned up and nipped his way along her jaw, the light touch of his lips on her flesh in direct counterpoint to the hard, demanding thrust of his fingers. He’d already slipped past the wisp of silk against her core and had taken full advantage, stretching her entrance with first one finger, then a second.

She fought to maintain control as the sensations battered her, drawing at her release despite her best efforts to hold back. There was no way to remain aloof when she was in his arms. The same magic that had rocketed between the two of them after the wedding came rushing back. Like a fire that had merely been banked and waited for the slightest push to blaze once more, the passion that hummed between them had turned on them both.

“Holt.” She heard the plea as she said his name, knew the tension that built in her body was about to win, when he whispered against her throat. “Now.”

That one word was all it took.

Her orgasm crashed over her, hard and fast, whipping through her system like a hurricane. She clutched at his shoulders as the storm raged, felt the hard bunch of muscles underneath her fingertips as he fought to maintain his own control. And then he pulled her close, cradling her against his chest as the aftershocks of her response continued to quake and settle in her muscles.

“I’m forced to repeat my question. Was that practical or functional?” His breath floated over her ear, sending another shockwave through her system as she shivered.

She stared up at him, cocking an eyebrow. “I may need a few more test trials before I can fully decide.”

…

The quiet hum of the restaurant surrounded them as the maitre’d left Mayson and Holt to their seats. A warm glow suffused her body and she couldn’t quite shake the feelings of disbelief and a small shot of pride as she stared at Holt across the table.

“What are you thinking?”

“Was the glass in the car really sound proof?”

A sexy smile greeted her, but his voice was very matter-of-fact. “I insist on it. I trust my driver, but anyone can be tempted. The deals I take part in require maximum secrecy, and I won’t allow anyone to overhear. Or to be put in a position where what they might overhear could be enticed out of them.”

“Smart.”

“Necessary in this day and age. The car is also swept for bugs on a daily basis.”

“No way.” She felt her eyes widen over the rim of her ice tea glass. “Really?”

“I can’t be too careful.”

“No, I suppose not.” Mayson thought about a recent hire to their executive board—a Chief Security Officer—and knew the challenges Holt faced weren’t unique to his business. “Technology has made it easier than ever for those on the hunt for information to find it. It’s a shame, but people can always find a way to do something illegally.”

“Some people are just wired that way.”

“I don’t understand it. Why spend all the energy it takes to do wrong and not just put that toward doing something worthwhile.”

“It takes all kinds.” His voice had dropped and taken on a flat quality she hadn’t heard before. She was prevented from saying anything by the arrival of their waiter, bearing their salads.

As she dug into hers a few moments later, she probed further on their conversation. “Have you ever lost data?”

“No, but I’ve got a rather paranoid sense of corporate security.”

“Why? Usually people don’t get paranoid until they’ve had an episode.”

“You can’t be too careful.”

“Did something happen to make you think that?”

The easy joviality faded and she didn’t miss the avoidance. “You hit the nail before. Technology has made things too easy, and I’ve seen others not recognize its necessity. My business is based on the trust I build with my clients. I can’t risk that for anything.”

“You face the loss of trust. We face missing out on a big scoop.”

“A key component driving your business. And while our issues may be different, the underlying issue is the same. You lose out on enough exclusives and you won’t have a successful company. I piss off too many clients and I won’t, either.”

She nodded, pleased at his understanding. In her experience, those outside the magazine industry viewed it as either frivolous or far more glamorous than it really was. His ability to discuss it as a business, with all the issues that faced any other company, was refreshing.

Movement in her peripheral vision pulled her attention away from Holt, and, as she shifted her gaze, the response on her lips faded entirely. All she could see was her father next to their table, a woman younger than herself by his side.

“Dad. Hello.” Shock, embarrassment, and a proprietary annoyance at having her evening interrupted all coalesced in her stomach like too much dessert. Only she’d had none of the fun on the way to the stomachache.

“Mayson!” His outstretched arms demanded attention, and she was up and out of the booth before she could check herself. “How’s my baby girl?”

“Good.” Her glance flitted to the other woman before skittering back to Holt. “Good.”

She moved out of her father’s embrace and extended a hand to where Holt now stood. “Holt Turner. My father, Andrew McBride.”

The polite hellos felt interminable, especially when she got her introduction to Betsy. Even as she shook the younger woman’s hand, she couldn’t shake off the sense of embarrassment. Or the horrifying sense of cliché the moment held.

“I talked to Keira earlier. Let her know I’d be in for the shareholders meeting later this week.”

The quick change in subject caught her even farther off guard than she already was. “Don’t you want us to take care of your proxy?”

Her father shook his head, his smile so bright it bordered on clueless. “After what almost happened a few months ago, I’d like to get in there and see what you all have been up to.”

“What happened, Andy?” Betsy had shifted from foot to foot up until the opportunity to get in on a slice of possible gossip had snapped her attention.

“My girls nearly had a takeover last fall. Could have lost the company.”

“We didn’t. The company was fine before and even better now.” Mayson gritted her teeth. Not that you’d know anything of it.

“I’ll be there anyway. Never hurts to check in from time to time.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

That bright, clueless smile continued to beam at her, and Mayson regretted her words. His unexpected visits hurt quite a bit, both professionally and personally, but as usual, his oblivion was absolute. The fact he’d completely missed her sarcasm was only further proof of that fact.

Her father bent to give her one last kiss before they made their good-byes. She watched him go before she dropped back into the booth, and it was long moments later before Holt finally spoke.

“I take it your father doesn’t make many shareholder meetings?”

“My father is lucky if he makes one meeting a year, so the fact he’s set his sights on this one means he’s up to something. Even if, in his own misguided way, he thinks it’s simply to support his daughters.”

“Could that be it?”

“Seeing as how he wasn’t even available for a discussion a few months back when we were dealing with Nathan’s takeover attempt, I highly doubt he’s suddenly dying to lend his support.”

Their steaks arrived and punched another break in their conversation, and Mayson fought to gather her thoughts. Her father’s actions weren’t a reflection on her. They never had been, even as she, her sisters, and her mother had borne the brunt of them.

“You’re not close?”

“You could say that. Especially since he began bringing home the classic mid-life crisis, sex-on-a-stick Barbie dolls, evidenced by Betsy there.”

“That’s sort of an insult to Barbie dolls.” His droll tone pulled her attention away from the steak she was currently sawing. Mayson felt a laugh bubble up in spite of herself, and she had to hand it to Holt for hitting straight to the heart of the matter.

“That’s not very nice.”

“I’d wager the thoughts running through your mind aren’t all that nice, either. I just put words to a few of them.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“A clear reflection on him. Not on you, in case you were wondering.”

She set down her fork and knife, unable to hold back the heavy sigh. “I know that. Really, I do. But he’s still my father, and despite my very best efforts, I love him. Which is why the embarrassment is more for me than anything else. I’ll think about this meeting for days, and he’ll likely be on to Barbie number eight hundred and forty-two by then.”

“Betsy is eight forty-one, I take it?”

“At least. Every time I try to stop counting there’s another one.”

“Our parents have a rare power to hurt us, in ways no one else can possibly touch.”

Whatever angst she felt vanished at the sincerity in Holt’s gaze. The usually clear hazel was clouded, the edges darkening in the muted light of the restaurant. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

“And I have the T-shirt to show for it.”

The glimpse into his past was an intriguing tease and she couldn’t resist probing for more information. “That’s awfully cryptic.”

“Not my intention. I’m enjoying an evening with a lovely and fascinating dinner companion. I’d much rather focus on the here and now than on something that happened so long ago as not to be important.”

She took in the deceptively innocent set of his features and knew he was bluffing his way through the issue. As someone who had done the same on more than one occasion, she opted to allow him his illusions.

Chapter Seven

Holt made sure he kept his comments light and easy, but he knew Andrew McBride’s unexpected visit to their table had upset Mayson more than she wanted to let on. The sexy camaraderie they’d shared from the moment he’d picked her up out in front of her building had vanished the moment her father had arrived. And he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of it since.

When a decadent chocolate mousse hadn’t shaken her out of her doldrums, he resigned himself to the fact that she needed a bit of time and space to deal with the side effects of the unexpected family visit. The light ding of the elevator pulled him from his thoughts and he gestured Mayson forward through the open doors.

They rode up in silence, and Holt wished he could take her sadness away. He also knew from personal experience she’d need a few days to find her equilibrium. The elevator doors slid open and he followed her the short distance to her door. “Why don’t you come in? I think we need to talk.”

He saw the insistence in her gaze and nodded, a sense of foreboding washing over him. “Sure.”

Mayson made quick work of the locks that ran up her door, then gestured him inside. The apartment was large and spacious, filled with vivid splashes of color. Just like her. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? A nightcap?”

“Water’s fine.”

She disappeared down a long hallway, and Holt gave himself a moment to study the large living room framed by a wall of windows overlooking Central Park. Without warning, an image of her standing in this room, rocking a fussy baby in her arms, struck him with surprising force.

Mayson was having his child. In less than a year, there would be a little person here, who was a piece of both of them. A child who also carried the genes both of them came from.

She entered the room with two glasses of water and handed him one before gesturing him to take a seat. “Thanks again for a lovely evening. I’m sorry I allowed my father to ruin it.”

“You didn’t mention the baby to him.”

“That wasn’t a conversation for the restaurant.” She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “Sort of like you and your family?”

The urge to bluff his way out of the conversation struck hard, but he fought it. He owed her some measure of honesty, even as the words stuck in his throat like a helping of peanut butter. “You got that?”

“Telegraphed loud and clear.”

He knew she had a right to know about his mother. She deserved to know about his past and the parentage their child would potentially be exposed to. But damn it all, no matter how he thought to explain it, he couldn’t get past the ugliness of his mother and her greed.

“Come on. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

“You know how badly I want this deal with Craddick Inc.?”

“Yes.” Mayson nodded, her expression hardening with obvious memories. “You were more than clear he’s only willing to do business with you if you get married.”

“There’s a reason I’ve pursued Craddick for so many years. A reason why his business matters to me.” He fought the swell of nausea that roiled in his stomach every time he thought of his childhood.

“Did something happen?”

“My mother stole over a million dollars of jewelry and antiques from Teddy and his wife.”

“Oh my God. When?”

“About twenty years ago. It was one of the first major scores she managed on her own.”

“How?”

He shook his head, that piece of the puzzle something he’d never been able to put together. “I don’t know the how of it, but likely through one of her contacts. There are only a small number of people who can pull off jobs like these.”

“And your mother’s one of them.”

“Yep.”

Mayson was quiet for a moment, her posture stiff as she sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Who else have you struck deals with to pay back your mother’s theft?”

He was surprised at how fast she arrived at that conclusion before shaking his head at the evidence he needed to tell her the whole story. “I’ve managed six others so far. I’ve got three more to go that I know of after Craddick.”

“So you cut the deals, then sweeten them out of your own pocket to pay them back for the theft. Without anyone ever being wiser?”

An image of his first “fix” rose up in his mind’s eye. “I learned early on that trying to tell the mark what I was up to didn’t win me any favors. I nearly ended up in jail on my first fix. Haven’t made that mistake again.”

“You’re doing this all on your own. Why do you think your mother’s a threat?”

“She’s back in my life after being gone for a couple of years, which means I’m on her radar for some reason. All she needs to do is catch wind of the Craddick project and she’ll figure out what I’m doing.”

“So lay low on Craddick. Give him some space and let your mother fade away again.”

“He’s not going to take too many more proposals from me. Add on the fact that the man’s not doing all that much expansion any longer and I’m not going to be able to get my hands on a deal for him. I need to act on this one.”

“And he wants you to have a wife before he’ll do a deal.”

“Yep.”

She nodded, her face set in somber lines. “Tell me more about your mother.”

“She’s a world-class thief and con artist. She jumps from mark to mark, using them in between husbands.”

“So she’s not dead like your story last weekend suggested?”

“No. She’s not.” He lifted his gaze from his glass, unwilling to keep his eyes averted in the telling of his past. Every sordid detail. “When I was a child, she used me as part of her cons, often having me case out a place or help her fence the items. It’s amazing how much you can stuff in a Spider-Man backpack.”

“Holt.” Her voice was a whisper in the room but he ignored her.

“I knew what she was. Knew how she made a living and kept a roof over our heads, but I allowed it to happen until I was eighteen and could get the hell out of the house. I got a scholarship and never looked back. But until that time, I was as guilty as she was.”

“You were a child.”

“Convenient argument. But the stuff when I was sixteen and seventeen… Let’s just say I’m lucky I never got caught. Nor am I delusional enough to think she wouldn’t try to make it stick to me if I ever attempted to turn her in.”

“No one could hold you responsible.”

“I am. Was. I know what she is and I know what she’s capable of. She’s the stench that taints my life, and I allow it to keep happening.”

“You are not responsible.”

“She won’t spin it that way.” He waited a beat, then decided to share everything. Whatever Mayson already thought of his past couldn’t get any worse. “She’s working a con now, and things are going to get worse before they get better.”

“What does that mean?”

“She came to me last week looking for money. She claimed she needed it to make an investment, but it’s code for seed money.”

“Did you give it to her?”

“No.”

“So what can she do? Blackmailing you for it will only make her guiltier. You’ve got power now, Holt. And with the surveillance you’ve likely done on her, you can keep her out of your hair forever.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“But it can’t be that hard. You have proof. And you’ve kept business records of how you’ve paid back her crimes. No one would judge you for that.”

“I wish it were that simple, but it’s not.”

Mayson shook her head. “There’s no way she’s got that sort of power.”

“There’s every way. Trust me.”

“And that’s why you want to get married?”

“It legitimizes our relationship for guys like Craddick, and it has the added benefit of keeping you safe. If we’re married, you have legal rights to my estate. So does our child. She can’t touch it through you.”

“This is crazy. You’re talking like she’d harm you in some way. Or worse, harm an innocent child.”

“She’ll use whatever is in her way. Whatever she can find. If she knows about the baby, she’ll see it as a vulnerability she can take advantage of. Marrying you is the only way I can shield you. Can give you the protection of my life and my fortune.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. You and I just met. Whatever course of action you were following before should be your course of action moving forward.”

He stood at that, unable to sit still any longer. “Don’t you get it? The baby changes everything.”

“Of course it does. We’re going to be parents. To her grandchild. That has to mean something.”

“I’m her child and it hasn’t made any difference.”

Mayson stood and walked toward him, taking his hand in her own when she reached his side. “You’re not thinking through this. You’re thinking like the little boy with the Spider-Man backpack. She can’t hurt you. Or us.”

He tried to find the right words to explain it to her. The few times his mother had come back into his life since his childhood had ended in ugly incidents he’d continued paying for long after she’d found her next mark. Or husband.

The incidents were often hard to pin on her, but he’d known she was responsible. Thinly veiled threats to his business associates that turned the tide on a deal. Subtle sabotage that had resulted in someone losing their job just before he managed to close a client. He lived and worked in a high-stakes environment and deals often went sideways, but he knew his mother had been involved.

“She can and she will. That’s why we need to get married. We need to take her bargaining chip off the table.”

“I can’t marry someone I don’t love. There has to be another way.”

“And I can’t take that risk with my unborn child. There is no other way.”

…

Holt’s words—and the haunted look in his eyes—continued to keep Mayson company throughout the rest of the week. She knew she owed him an answer, but no matter how she turned the issue over in her mind, she’d struggled to make sense of it. People didn’t just get married over potential threats of blackmail or business adversaries who thought it was the right thing to do.

Even if that was exactly what was happening, that reasonable voice in her head rose up to remind her.

The reality of his situation was too hard to believe. What he’d made himself into, despite the earliest negative influences—it awed her, showing yet another facet of the man that melted away a piece of her heart.

And what could his mother possibly do to her? To them?

Whatever she can find. If she knows about the baby, she’ll see it as a vulnerability she can take advantage of. Marrying you is the only way I can shield you. Can give you the protection of my life and my fortune.

She ran a hand over her still-flat stomach, the urge to protect the fragile life there immediate and absolute. She didn’t doubt Holt’s obviously real panic, but no matter how she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t grasp the threat. The McBride name wasn’t without some power of its own, and that had only solidified with her sister’s marriage to one of the leaders of the business community.

Of course, the entire business community had watched in fascination the previous fall when Nathan went after them, intent on breaking up the company. The whispers—innuendo that had dogged her and her sisters as they tried to resurrect McBride Media from her father’s poor choices—had risen to a firestorm as the media community waited for them to fail.

A few well-placed comments about the health of their business, and Mayson knew the storm could flare up once more.

The sound of the door pulled her from her circular thoughts and she looked up into the warm gaze of her gynecologist.

“How are you feeling, Mayson?”

“Good, Dr. Martin. Really good.” After a quick update on her situation and the results of the home tests she’d taken, she allowed the doctor to run more of the same, including a sonogram as a precaution tied to her life-long menstrual irregularity. A half hour later she left the office clutching a sonogram photo of her baby.

Their baby. The urge to call Holt was strong, but she ignored it and walked back to the office, the photo tucked away in her purse.

The office was quiet as she headed up to her floor, the rush of early morning already faded into the gentle hum of mid-morning work. She had no sooner booted her computer up than a quick knock pulled her attention toward the door and her brother-in-law standing in the entryway. “Nathan. Come on in.”

Although she and her new brother-in-law had settled into an easy camaraderie, he didn’t make a habit of visiting her at work, and she had a sneaking suspicion why he’d decided to change that now. “I guess this means you’ve spoken to Keira.”

“She told me your news.” He had already crossed the room and was behind her desk, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m thrilled for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Although I wasn’t aware my best friend was such a hound dog.”

“Nathan—” She broke off, not sure what to say, before she felt compelled to point out the obvious. “It does take two.”

He only nodded at that. “My lovely wife also told me marriage is on the table.”

“He thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Don’t you?”

“Marriage is for people who love each other.” The words were out before she could pull them back. “Not that I’m expecting that from him, but since I am expecting that from the person I marry, I’m still leaning toward no.”

“I know Holt. He wouldn’t have asked the question lightly.”

“And I’m not denying it lightly.”

“Of course.”

She didn’t miss the discomfort that radiated off his large frame in waves. A powerful man with a commanding presence, she wasn’t used to seeing him in any way other than supremely powerful. It was oddly humbling—and adorable—to see a more vulnerable side to him. “Is there anything you need?”

“I’m going to be fine.”

“I can beat him up if you need me to.”

She did smile at that, the novelty of now having a brother not lost on her. “I don’t think that’s necessary, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

He got up and gave her a quick kiss over the desk. “Holt’s a private man. Even as well as I know him, he doesn’t share much. If he’s asked you to marry him, he’s got a good reason.”

Something in her face must have telegraphed her impatience, because he held up a quick hand. “I know you’ve got good reasons as well, and I’m not questioning that, but I’d urge you to hear him out.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Implicitly. Even if I have every intention of beating the shit out of him next time I see him.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You’re my little sister now. I’d be a traitor to the brotherhood if I didn’t set him straight.”

…

She was no closer to an answer to Holt’s question, but she pushed all of it to the back of her mind as she led a chestnut mare out of the barn at Hands, Hearts and Hugs. Bright sunlight greeted her as she walked toward a mounting platform. She’d ridden this horse before, a gentle creature named Tabby, and was looking forward to spending the morning showing Holt the property on horseback.

Holt was already mounted and waiting for her across the small corral they kept to work the horses and teach the kids. “You ready?” He had an old baseball cap pulled low over his forehead and a black T-shirt covered his broad chest to perfection. Well-worn blue jeans hugged his powerful thighs, and she felt her horse move restlessly underneath her when she sat staring a bit too long.

“Yes! Yes, I’m ready.”

“Let’s go.” Holt waited for her to get out in front of him, moving single-file through the enclosed barn area until they got out to the broader property.

Quiet descended around them as they navigated a small trail. The children were still in the main house having their breakfast, and the grounds had an early morning calm that wouldn’t last long. As they cleared the close confines of the outbuildings, Holt moved his horse up next to hers. “I’ve missed seeing you this week.”

“I’ve missed seeing you, too.”

They rode in silence for a while, the quiet only punctuated by her comments as she showed him various parts of the grounds. Fifteen minutes later, she focused on the wood-rail fence that became visible in the distance and pointed toward it. “That’s the edge of the property. I thought we could follow it all the way around, give you a sense of the land.”

“It’s about five acres, right?”

“Yep. The houses and stables take up a good two acres, so they don’t have all that much room to expand.”

“Do they do that many outdoor activities with the kids?”

“A fair amount. I don’t know all the specifics, but I know a big part of the kids’ therapy is tied to some time spent outdoors and exercising.”

“I think I’m starting to get a sense of things. Where are they looking to put the new structure?”

“On the opposite side of the barn, away from the residences.”

“The build request is pretty straightforward.” Holt pulled his horse to a halt and Mayson did the same, coming to a stop next to him. “The real problem is the way the land’s been donated and the stipulated family approvals that are required to make changes.”

“Do you think they’ll be able to get around it? The owners are good people. Ed and Sabrina are doing good work here.”

“I’m sure they are, but if Ed can’t convince his brother to make a different decision, I’m afraid they’re not going to be able to make the changes they’d like.”

An irrational spurt of anger shot through her system like a geyser as her hands whitened around the reins. “Damn it, but it’s just so unnecessary.”

“Mayson?” When she didn’t respond, Holt said her name once more. “Don’t get upset. We’re here to figure some things out.”

She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm. She could already feel Tabby stamping her feet beneath her at the show of irrational anger. “I simply can’t accept someone waving power like it’s a flag. Ed’s brother is ruining the opportunity for something truly good because of his own selfishness.”

“I wish I could say something that would make it better. In the meantime, it’s probably best to suggest to Ed and Sabrina they think about putting their expansion plans on hold or they look for an alternative piece of land. Something they can manage themselves, without anyone else’s interference.”

She knew it was irrational and that getting upset wouldn’t help, but her ongoing frustration with the situation with the charity coalesced into a ball of helpless anger, roiling away in her gut. Before she could calm down and get herself in check, the stress-fueled acid in her stomach changed, rumbling through her midsection with the force of a tidal wave and she immediately began to feel nauseous.

“Mayson?”

She caught sight of Holt’s concerned gaze a moment before she simply acted, moving solely on the instinct to get off the horse. With stiff, jerky movements, she overcompensated on the reins, accidentally pulling Tabby’s head too hard. The animal’s initial skittishness toward her anger ratcheted up another notch, and she felt the shift in the large body beneath her a split second before Tabby began to move.

Her thighs gripped the saddle hard as the horse took off, the muscular body flexing beneath her with a combination of unexpected speed and the desire to remove the irritation from her back. A hard scream echoed from her throat as Mayson found herself flying along the perimeter of the fence, wind whipping at her as she rode the out of control horse.

In the distance, she heard Holt and his horse behind her, the thunder of hooves a heavy counterpoint to the slamming of her pulse in her ears. Images flashed through her mind as she fought to gain control of the moment. The warm faces of the children as they greeted her that morning in the cafeteria. Holt’s serious gaze as he pointed out various things on the trail. The ride up to the camp that morning as the bright sunlight shone over the Hudson River when they drove the West Side Highway out of the city.

Underneath all of it pounded a ruthless fear that gripped her throat with icy claws.

“Mayson!”

Holt’s frantic shouts ensured he was still behind her, and the heavy gallop of hooves was closer than before. She felt Tabby’s muscles bunch, sensing the horse was getting ready for another burst of speed before a heavy whoosh of air pressed along her side. Holt reached out, his large hand snagging at the reins she held on to with an iron grip. Immediately, she felt the change in Tabby and braced her thighs for a hard stop.

The moment ended nearly as fast as it had begun. Holt’s steady hand and firm touch on the reins pulled Tabby to an easy stop as he pulled his own mount to a halt.

“Mayson?” Holt’s eyes were wide as he turned toward her, a glaze of fear covering the hazel and turning them a dark shade of green. “What the hell happened?”

A hard breath stuck in her throat and Mayson struggled to find the words as the reality of her precarious ride filled her thoughts. “I…I don…don’t know. I got sick and all I wanted to do was get off Tabby’s back.”

Without losing his grip on her reins, Holt slipped from the saddle and walked both horses toward a stretch of fence. He made quick work of tying their reins to posts before reaching for her. She felt the steady touch of his hands at her waist. Felt the gentle tug as he pulled her off Tabby and into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on, the feel of the horse’s moving body still echoing through her muscles.

“Shh.” He whispered it against her head as he moved several paces from the horses. Setting her down briefly, he dropped to the ground and tugged on her hand. “Come here.”

She went willingly, snuggling into his arms as they came around her. Under the heavy thump of her own pulse, she heard the hard beat of his heart, slamming against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. Shouldn’t have upset Tabby like that. I’m not good enough on a horse to do that. To take that kind of risk.”

“You did fine.”

A light breeze whipped around them, cooling the skin as she fought to calm down. The ride was scary, but it was over and she was fine, as were Holt and the horses. Imagining what might have happened wasn’t going to help matters and only left her full of morbid thoughts.

“Are you feeling better?” Holt’s voice was soothing, and the firm strokes of his hand over her back went a long way toward calming her.

“I think so. One minute I was just so angry for Ed and Sabrina, and the next minute all I wanted to do was get off Tabby and go be sick by myself.”

“Have you had any morning sickness yet?”

“A little, but nothing too bad. The doctor said it could come on at any time, but since I hadn’t had it that badly, I’d likely escape unscathed.”

His body stiffened underneath her. “Doctor?”

“Of course. I went this past week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was a personal visit. An exam.” The excuse was lame and she knew it.

“I could have waited outside until you were done.”

The words rose up, as if out of nowhere, anger heating them to a white-hot intensity, and she leaped off his lap. “What, Holt? Like we were a real family? Like you were an anxious husband waiting to see the first sonogram?”

“You had a sonogram?”

The eagerness she saw on his face wasn’t lost on her, but even with the evidence of his interest, she couldn’t stop the barrage of emotions. Guilt. Elation. More guilt.

“Of course.”

“And the baby’s okay?”

“Yes. Fine. I’d have told you if it wasn’t.”

Sparks shot from the depths of his eyes, flecks of gold wound through the hazel as he ripped off his sunglasses to stare her down. “Would you? Because it’s not like you even told me about the damn appointment.”

“Because we’re not a couple. We’re a couple of people who have found ourselves in an inconvenient situation.”

“I’ve tried to make that right.”

“No, you’ve tried to dictate a solution, and that’s something else entirely.”

Chapter Eight

Holt followed Mayson along the narrow trail that led up to the barn. Neither of them had been up to getting back on their horses, so they’d walked from the far side of the property. Even now, over an hour later, he couldn’t stop the incessant need to look at her, reassuring himself that she was okay. The horses had long since calmed, their gait even and controlled as they brought them back to the barn.

So why couldn’t he calm down?

No matter how many times he told himself she was fine, the image of what could have been flashed in his mind as if on an endless, gruesome loop. Add on the fight, and he hadn’t found his equilibrium.

“Mayson!”

The happy shout from the direction of the big yard between the main house and the barn echoed toward them both as Mayson let up a large wave. A young woman, he guessed in her late teens, stood proudly waving back. “Who is that?”

“That’s Annette.”

“She seems excited to see you.”

“She’s one of my favorite people here. We have a special bond.”

Although he’d done his research and knew a key goal of the facility was to help prepare children with intellectual challenges for adulthood, he’d still expected the majority of the residents to be small children. “How old is she?”

“According to her, she’s eighteen and three-quarters. A number she proudly updates each time I’m here.”

“That’s awfully specific.”

“And 100 percent Annette.” For the first time since the incident at the property line, he heard signs of normalcy in her voice. “I don’t know the full extent of her challenges, but she’s very deliberate and rational in her communication.”

Holt opened the gate to a small grazing area and got the horses situated. “How long has she been here?”

“I think about three years now. Her mother was able to get her in on a scholarship, and the time has done wonders for her.”

“Why don’t you go on and let me get the horses situated so they can graze a bit.”

Mayson handed him the reins before she walked over to embrace the young woman. The hug was natural and easy, and it stopped him in his tracks. Could any other women of his acquaintance give of themselves so willingly to someone who faced more challenges in the world than most would ever understand?

He made quick work of getting the horses settled and followed in her footsteps. He’d have had to be blind to miss the speculation he saw on Annette’s face, and thought the combination of protectiveness and curiosity was particularly telling.

“Annette, I’d like you to meet my friend, Holt.”

Holt took the immediately proffered hand and couldn’t hold back his smile at the girl’s eager expression.

“I think you mean boy friend, Mayson,” Annette said.

“You could call me that.”

Holt got a giggle from the girl, before she pointed toward the grazing horses. “Did you have a good ride?”

“It was a beautiful morning.” Holt saw Mayson’s gaze relax as he side-stepped the question. “Do you enjoy the horses?”

“Not so much. They smell. I like painting. And bikes. And swimming. And going to the movies.”

Mayson patted the girl’s shoulder. “Last time I was here, Annette showed me a painting she was working on. Did you finish it?”

Annette’s vivid green gaze lit up with excitement. “I finished it and two more. Want to see them?”

At two sets of expectant eyes, Holt knew his cue. “I’d love to see your work, too. Why don’t you two go in, and I’ll follow after removing the horses’ saddles and getting them back in their stalls.”

“I can help you with that.”

Holt waved Mayson off, the irrational desire to keep her away from the horses still pounding strong in his veins. “It won’t take me long at all.”

“Okay.”

As he watched them walk away, he marveled at the easy camaraderie and simple warmth Mayson seemed to hold for everyone. Here was a woman at the very top of her game professionally, a member of one of New York’s most well-respected families, yet she innately understood how to give of herself to others.

Her smiles were easy and sincere, and he could see how happy she was here.

Once again, the whisper of his past tugged at him, making him feel as if his feet were encased in cement. His young life was so ugly. He’d done everything in his power to push it down deep, to pretend as if it had never existed. Hell, he’d even used his business to try and erase past crimes. But no matter what he did, it had existed, shaping him into the man he was, molding him into the businessman he was. Except for Keira and Nathan’s house party, when was the last time he’d spent a weekend off? Or spent time outside in the sun? And had he ever spent the afternoon with a child?

Never…

His weekends were simply another part of the work week. Time spent outside was to advance a business goal, like a round of golf, not leisurely walks over lush acres of farm. And children? The reality was he had absolutely no experience. But he would. Soon he’d be a father. And every metric he’d used to evaluate his life needed to change.

…

Holt found the art classroom easily enough, the building that housed the student’s activities a small structure about a hundred yards from the barn. He made mental notes as he moved through the hallway. Simple ways they could make quick improvements, even if they did ultimately get their funding.

He followed a small corridor, the sound of voices growing louder as he reached the last classroom. At the opportunity to watch unobserved, he deliberately eavesdropped on the conversation.

“I met him at my sister’s wedding.”

The mention of the wedding had Annette going off in gales of girlish smiles as she asked about the dresses and the party, and Mayson indulged her, pulling up some pictures on her phone for them to ooh and aah over.

“The groom is handsome, but not as much as Holt.”

“I agree he’s very handsome. But enough boy talk. I want to see your paintings.”

Annette danced over to a row of canvasses leaning against the wall. “These are my old ones. The new ones are hidden. Turn around.”

Mayson first admired the canvasses that were face up. Holt didn’t miss the wink she shot him as she turned around and he knew the jig was up. “Do I have to turn around, too?”

Annette was delighted by his arrival, gesturing him into the room and pointing toward a seat near the front. “Here. You sit next to Mayson. And you have to hide your eyes, too.”

Holt took a minute to look at the same canvasses Mayson had deliberated over. Bright, vivid slashes of color filled each and every one, and while the technique often needed work, the enthusiasm was more than evident in each and every stroke. He thought about that while Annette positioned her canvasses for the big reveal. There was a vibrancy and a joy in the young girl he couldn’t help admiring.

For individuals the world thought of as “challenged,” she had a wonderful view of herself and the world around her. She continued to hem and haw behind them, and Holt could hear the sound of the wooden frame of the canvas as it touched the floor, then the wall, then was shifted once more.

“Okay! Turn around!”

The order was layered with excitement, and Holt and Mayson turned to admire Annette’s paintings at the same time. He thought he might need Mayson’s support as he reviewed the child’s work, but the reaction that welled up was absolutely genuine. “Annette. They’re beautiful.”

Hands went to her slim hips. “You can’t just say that. You have to mean it.”

“I do mean it.” He walked forward, standing before each canvas to review the work before moving to the next. “You’ve done a beautiful job.”

The paintings centered on a common theme. Each showed a girl, her face turned toward the sun with her arms outstretched. In every painting, the color of the subject’s dress was different and the backgrounds changed, but all were well-done and showed Annette’s development of thought and ability to work around a theme.

“I meant them to be the same but different.”

“You’ve done a great job. Tell me about them.”

The girl turned her focus toward the canvasses and chattered happily about each of the paintings. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his arm that he turned to look at Mayson, his attention finally broken from the work. “She’s amazing.”

Annette turned, her smile even broader than the one she’d worn earlier. “You like them?”

“I love them.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“The woman in the blue dress.” He got up from the desk and stood next to the painting, his gaze focused on the canvas. He lifted his hands to his hips in a gesture that matched Annette’s.

“Why do you like the blue one?”

“Because Mayson was wearing a blue dress the first time I saw her.”

Proudly, Annette reached for the painting and turned toward Holt. “Then you need to have it.”

“I can’t take your painting.”

“I want you to.”

She held it out until Holt reached for it. He grasped the wooden edges of the canvas with both hands. “I know just where I’m going to hang this.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss against Annette’s cheek. “Thank you.”

A light giggle erupted from the girl’s lips as she pressed her hand to her cheek. “Do I get another kiss if I give you another painting?”

Mayson reached forward and pulled the girl into a tight hug. “I think we need to teach you some more subtle flirting techniques.”

“I thought a girl needed to ask for what she wanted.” Annette leaned back and put her hands on her hips once again. “Isn’t that what you’re always saying?”

Holt shot her a sideways glance. “Is that what you’re always saying?”

Mayson couldn’t hold back the quick smile as she pulled Annette into another hug, this time from the side. “How is it you listened to that lesson and not the others I’ve tried to pass on?”

“Because I don’t want to eat my vegetables, and it’s boring to get all my homework done every night.”

Holt leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the other cheek. “Well, who can argue with that?”

…

Although they were only about forty miles from Manhattan, the small, upstate town that Hands, Hearts and Hugs called home didn’t boast a lot of dining establishments. They’d found a small diner on the way to their hotel, and Holt had figured it was their best bet.

He laid down his menu. “You were really good with the kids.”

“Right back at you. They loved you. And I think Annette has a little crush.”

He took a moment to weigh his words, before simply opting to say what was on his mind. “They weren’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Children who didn’t have any hope.”

Her curiosity was evident in the tilt of her head. “And what do you think now?”

“I think the time you spend up here must refresh your soul and renew your belief in the goodness of others.”

“That’s rather poetic.”

“It’s not poetic if it’s true.”

She laid a hand over his and the warmth that simply defined her zinged up his arm at the contact. “Can’t it be both?”

“Mayson—” Her name caught in his throat as they stared at each other across the old, scarred Formica table. The need for her—at times so blindingly urgent he could barely take a breath—rose up to swamp him. How had she become so necessary? And in such a short period of time.

“What is it?”

“It’s not just for the business deal. And it’s not just about my mother.”

Understanding dawned deep in her eyes. “What’s it about, then?”

“Us. It’s about us.”

Long moments stretched out between them, an ocean of calm and quiet amidst the noise of the diner.

…

Mayson stepped into the hotel lobby, her hand linked with Holt’s. The need to touch him was constant, a living, breathing fire under her skin.

Us. It’s about us.

His words played on a loop in her mind, over and over again like a lullaby.

She’d seen a new side to him today. His gentleness with the horses, and his innate kindness to the children, Annette especially. He’d given her a special gift—the gift of his attention and his respect—and another piece of her heart had crumbled.

In that moment, when Holt had stood admiring Annette’s paintings, she caught a glimpse of the father he’d be. While the two of them might need work, if she had any concerns about his ability to parent, they had vanished in that moment.

“Here you go, Ms. McBride.” She’d volunteered to book the room since she stayed in town so frequently, and had suspected Holt would be all right with the arrangements she’d planned. Even with the expectation he’d be fine with it, she still didn’t miss the subtle widening of his eyes as the desk manager handed her one set of room keys.

Holt came to a stop before their assigned room, shifting his overnight bag to deal with the lock. “You’re sure this is okay?”

“More than okay. You?”

“No, Mayson.” With a broad smile, he pushed one foot against the door to prop it open before leaning back and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. “I’d rather sleep down the hall.”

Lifting up onto tiptoes, she nipped a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “You’re such a stickler for propriety.”

Strong arms came around her as he dragged them both into the room. “That’s me.”

His lips came down on hers and all the pent up need and longing from the last few weeks came crashing through both of them with the strength of gale-force winds. Mayson did the only thing she could think of, the only thing that felt right: she clung to him and held on.

Heavy knots of lust tightened her muscles, pushing her body on as each of them shed the items they carried. His overnight bag fell to the floor near their feet with a heavy thud, and her small suitcase lay on its side, fallen where they’d both knocked against it.

As they moved further inside, mouths fused and hands roaming, their clothing fell in piles, like a trail of breadcrumbs toward the bedroom. When Holt finally came down on top of her on the bed, his heavy weight a lush reward for the journey, Mayson could only giggle. “That was a pretty impressive feat, Mr. Turner. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten out of my clothes that fast.”

“It’s a rare skill.”

“And a dangerous one.” She shifted her hand between their bodies, her fingers closing over the hard length of him.

His eyes glittered in the dim light of the room. “You’re a temptress.”

“With you.” She pressed her lips to his, trying to say with her body where words failed her. “Only with you.”

When he responded, his mouth a carnal feast on hers and his body pressed intimately against her, Mayson knew the words she spoke were truth. There was something about this man. He was the only one who’d ever made her feel this way. The only one who had ever made her lose control, even as she discovered herself.

She’d never been one to consider her world ordered, like Camryn, or full of pure ambition, like Keira. Instead, she’d drifted, like a ship at sea. There’d been some destination in mind—some endpoint—but she’d let life’s waves carry her along. Until Holt. He’d climbed aboard and taken the reins, and she knew she would never been the same.

“Make love to me.” The words floated from her lips, lazy yet strong.

Demanding.

The desire that drove both of them ratcheted up once more as the moment changed, grew more urgent.

He reached for her hand, stilled it with his own, then shifted so he could move down her body, his mouth flying over her with the intent to possess. Hot, liquid kisses branded her throat before scorching a path to her breasts. The same heat turned liquid between her thighs as his mouth closed over one nipple, his fingers plying the hard peak of the other.

The sly curl of need that rode low in the belly punched up and became greedy, her legs writhing against his body as the sensations became more urgent. And as the pleasure built, now familiar yet so deeply exciting, she slid underneath him, memories of the previous week still fresh in her mind. He’d played the hunter long enough.

It was time to turn the tables.

…

Holt felt himself drowning in the glorious woman beneath him. Her lush curves and long, artful limbs were a feast for the senses, and he intended to savor every morsel. He sensed the shift in her body, and reacted by pressing lightly with his weight to keep her moaning beneath him, before she slid craftily over him.

“My turn.” The whispered words were like an accelerant to flame, especially when matched with the movements of her body as she quickly straddled him. The light weight of her, pressed intimately over his hips, pushed his already aroused body another step toward the edge. When he reached up to cup her full breasts in his hands, her eyes grew darker, their depths so deep and rich he could drown in them.

Her delicate fingers gripped the hard length of his penis once more while her long hair fell against his torso, the thick strands tickling the muscles of his stomach. The warm, giving woman in his arms teased and tantalized, tortured and tormented. And she was his.

“Mayson.”

Before he could utter anything else, her mouth closed over him and he was lost. Heat, so much heat, consumed him. It battled with the intense pleasure that radiated from the core of his body, tightening his muscles and pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

He knew he was spellbound as she continued to work his flesh with her tongue. She managed his physical cues, movements he wasn’t even conscious of making, and adjusted so that each stroke of her tongue pushed him harder, drew him further on toward that place where nothing existed but the magic between the two of them.

“Mayson—” Her name ripped from his throat as he caught himself, nearly over the edge and well on his way to taking the moment. He dragged at her slender shoulder, tugging her toward his chest. “Together. We’ll go together.”

A wanton smile spread across her mouth, but she said nothing as she continued to weave her magic. With deft movements, she straddled his hips, taking him deep into her body. He was nearly blinded by the pleasure, but still forced himself to watch her, to keep his gaze on her face so he could look at her as she took her pleasure.

Movements generous, she lifted her body over him before coming back down, the sinuous flow of motion igniting another shockwave within him. He gripped her hips, desperate to manage the pace—desperate to gain some of the control he’d lost to her generous ministrations. He reminded himself to hold on as she rode him through another hard crest of pleasure, tried to tell himself to make the moment last, but as his gaze caught on hers, Holt saw the haze of her own pleasure reflected there.

And in that moment he was lost.

Chapter Nine

Mayson cuddled in Holt’s arms, satisfaction warming her body in easy relaxation. Had she ever felt anything like what was between them?

His arms tightened around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest as his breathing evened out, and she knew she’d never been anywhere close to what was between them. Had never known anything like this.

“I can hear you thinking.” Holt tickled her ribs lightly before opening his eyes on a smile. “How can you be thinking at all? I think I lost every last brain cell I possessed.”

“I guess that means I started with more.”

“Cheeky.”

She hesitated for a moment, the feeling not unlike the time she went skydiving. There was that moment, just before she jumped, where she wondered what she was possibly thinking.

And then she’d leapt.

“I was thinking about your merger offer.”

“Oh?”

“I’m beginning to think the idea may have some merit.”

“Most of my ideas usually do.” The cocky grin that accompanied the comment had her sitting up and dragging the covers over her body.

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m not?”

The playfulness was a new side to him, and she marveled at it. While she was loath to end the lighthearted conversation, marriage wasn’t a simple decision. “I’ve given the idea of marriage a lot of thought. I’m open to it, but I think we need an exit clause.”

“Why?”

She laid a hand on his arm. “For both of us, Holt. I watched my mother live in an untenable situation her whole life out of some misguided sense of duty.”

“Those were her choices.”

“I know that. I do. And I know I’m not being fair. To this day I don’t know why she stayed. Why she allowed her marriage to become such a farce when her own children thought she’d be better off divorced than staying where she was. But I need to know I have an exit strategy.”

“A golden parachute?”

“Exactly. And you should want the same.”

“Don’t assume you know what I want.” His voice was low, and not for the first time she had an image of him leading a business meeting or closing a major deal. The man was lethal, and a light shiver ran down her spine.

He’d be a formidable adversary.

She fought to maintain her cool. Her outburst that morning had been satisfying in the moment, but hardly productive. If she was going to make her point, she needed to do it in a way that he understood.

In business terms.

“It’s not an assumption when it’s practical.”

“Life isn’t practical. We’re not practical.” He pulled her close, the frustration in his words translating to the hard press of his lips, as if he could impress his thoughts upon her through their bodies. As always, that steady, ever-present attraction flared to life. Wasn’t that the very definition of their relationship? The immediate attraction between them. The meeting at the wedding, followed by their reintroduction at Keira and Nathan’s party. The last few weeks, full of the odd push-pull as they tried to get on firmer ground. Steadier footing.

It would be so easy to mistake that for something deeper and simply fall in love with him.

Love?

The thought caught her off-guard and she stilled in his arms. It was only when Holt shifted, burying his head in her neck as if to keep her close, that she moved once more, settling into his arms. She couldn’t be in love with Holt Turner, couldn’t even give it room to take root in her mind.

Love wasn’t a business meeting. It wasn’t a merger. It wasn’t rational.

What she had with Holt was all of those things, not love.

It couldn’t be.

…

The lights of the George Washington Bridge came into view as Holt navigated them home down the West Side Highway. Mayson hid a yawn behind her hand, marveling at how much help he’d been at the camp.

“You made a huge difference this weekend. Thank you for going with me. And thanks for driving. This ride has seemed light-years faster since I’m not doing it by myself.”

“The charity’s got a great foundation. They’ll get through their property mess, it’s just going to take time and patience.”

“Time is the one thing they don’t have.” Mayson tugged on the back of her ponytail. “They need to be able to make room for more children.”

“It’ll happen. The owners have a good growth plan and they’ll get there.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“I thought about our conversation. About the golden parachute.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not looking for an easy out.”

“Neither am I.”

“You suggested it.”

The urge to tug on her hair gripped her once more, so she diligently folded her hands in her lap. “I suggested we be smart about where we are and why we’re making decisions. There’s a difference.”

“Smart?”

Almost of its own accord, her hand slipped to rest over her still-flat stomach. “Smart and safe.”

“I usually avoid smart and safe like the plague.”

“And look where it’s gotten both of us.”

Holt reached for her hand and she slipped hers in his larger one, clasping his fingers so their palms met. “We’ll figure it out.”

She wanted to believe him—did believe him when he claimed this was what he wanted—but what would happen when he grew tired of her? Of them once it was her and the baby? The day would come when he’d feel trapped.

It would have to. No one got off to a start like theirs and ended up not feeling like they were forced into it at some point. Because no matter how he framed up a union between the two of them, nothing changed the fact that if it weren’t for the baby, they wouldn’t be discussing marriage at all. And no matter how she was coming to feel about him, that point didn’t sit well with her.

…

Mayson stared at the oversized fashion closet in the McBride Media building and sighed with ecstasy. “This was a great idea, Keira.”

Her sister had suggested it after they finished up their morning meetings, and it hadn’t taken either of them long to carve out some time in their schedules to make the unscheduled trip.

“Ooh. What about this one?” Keira held up a designer sheath, intricate beadwork filling the bodice before falling into a subtle train. “It’s gorgeous.”

Mayson patted her stomach. “And likely a bit too form-fitting.”

“Point taken.”

Keira busied herself with one long rack while Mayson indulged her love of shoes. “We need to come in here more often.”

“I make a weekly pilgrimage.” Her sister turned from the rack with a quick squeal of excitement. “Mayse. Come here and look at this one.”

She knew before Keira had the dress up on one of the elevated racks they used to display clothing that it was the one. “It’s beautiful.”

“And it’s going to look beautiful on you.”

In moments, she was buttoned up in the dress, the long waves of silk falling artfully away from her waist. The design was simple and elegant, reminding her of something from the twenties. Maybe it was the moment, seeing herself in white. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones that seemed to increase by the day. Maybe it was just the overwhelming sense that her life was on an out-of-control roller coaster. With flustered motions, she dragged at the sleeves. “Take it off. Get it off me, please.”

“Mayson?”

“Get it off!”

Keira made quick work of the dress, fetching a small robe for her to cover up with. After hanging the gown up once more, she took a seat on the small stool next to Mayson’s knee. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“I can’t tell you something I don’t know myself.”

“Try.”

“I’m scared.”

Keira gripped her hand. “Of course you are. Do you think that’s not normal somehow?”

“It’s the way it’s happening. All at once. Three months ago I didn’t know the man existed, and now I’m trying on wedding dresses and having his baby. It’s too much.”

“It’s life.”

The discomfort she tried to hide the night before in the car ride home rose up to swamp her once more, and she gave in and admitted the unanswerable question she was afraid to put to words. “What if we’re Mom and Dad?”

“You and Holt?”

“Yes.” She thought of the life growing inside of her. Thought of their obstacles to happiness. “If we weren’t having a baby, he wouldn’t have asked me to marry him.”

“True.” Keira nodded, her gaze warm and her grip firm. “But you are having a baby and he did ask you to marry him.”

“And getting married helps his business objectives.”

“Also true. You give him a legitimacy that does matter in the eyes of some.”

Phrased that way, she saw the truth in her sister’s words. While Teddy Craddick might be heavy-handed in his approach to the people he did business with, she wasn’t immune to the expectations others carried into business. While personal lives were meant to be kept separate, she’d seen the measure of respect that had increased toward Keira now that her sister had a wedding band on her left hand.

The shift was subtle, but distinct. Marriage meant you were an adult. It meant you’d embraced society’s expectations for you and took your rightful and responsible place.

Having a baby only solidified that expectation.

“He doesn’t love me and I don’t love him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Mayson knew her sister had opinions, but whatever they were, Keira kept them to herself. When she did finally speak, it was to point at the dress. “It’d be a shame to leave that in here and risk having it snapped up by someone else. You can keep it for a few days while you decide.”

“I’d like that.”

…

Holt glanced at the painting of the woman in the blue dress that hung on his office wall and smiled to himself. He’d done that often today, he knew, and couldn’t shake the good mood that had carried him straight through the weekend and on into Monday morning. The bold strokes of Annette’s painting weren’t that of a master, but they’d been applied lovingly, and there were few things in his life he knew he treasured more.

The buzz of his phone pulled him from his post-weekend musings, a direct reminder that he had work to do. “Yes, Gloria?”

“Teddy Craddick called to check your schedule. Are you free to meet him for lunch at noon?” Gloria named off a small Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. Small and quaint, the selection was meant to send a message. I don’t need sass and flash.

Where he’d have been disdainful of the choice even a few weeks ago, in a moment of clarity, Holt had to acknowledge the selection fit. “I’ll be there.”

He spent the next hour preparing his thoughts and working through his approach to the meeting. Despite his deep interest in doing the deal and ultimately making things right for what Teddy and his wife had lost at the hands of his mother, he also knew if the opportunity didn’t play out, he needed to let this one go.

…

The hostess led Holt to Teddy’s table, the subtle hum of lunch conversation and the scents of warm, fresh bread filling his senses. They exchanged the requisite pleasantries before he took his seat.

“My legal counsel and I have reviewed your proposal, and we’re all impressed.”

“That was my intention.”

“You’re aiming to turn back a significant number of profits to my company.”

Holt could recite the proposal from memory, and he leaped at the chance to make the deal. “By outsourcing some of the space, you stand to benefit from the overarching investment, while also sustaining tenant income. I’ve got prospective clients already lined up, very few questions asked. The Craddick Inc. reputation has a way of making people interested in signing on the dotted line.”

“And what do you get?”

A clear conscience. “Ample profits for brokering the property.”

“Anything else?”

“What else do I need?”

Teddy sat back, his assessing gaze sharp across the small able. “That’s what I can’t figure out. I meant what I said up in Rhode Island. Your reputation is one of cold indifference. So I keep asking myself why you’d make this project so lucrative for me?”

“You’re taking on the risk. Why shouldn’t you reap the reward?”

“Nope. Too easy. What else?”

Holt heard the questions layered under the questions and had to acknowledge Teddy Craddick was a lot sharper than he’d given him credit for. He’d done six of these deals to date, and not one of the recipients had questioned the benefits he offered.

“I consider this deal a loss leader. You want to know if I’m worthy of handling your business. I’ve increased the incentives for you to give me a trial run.”

“No one does that.”

“Well, I am.”

“So you’re devaluing your contribution to get my business?”

Holt shrugged, the cool indifference he was known for serving him well. “I have a long-term vision.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“Perhaps you and your wife would care to join Mayson and me for dinner? I can give you a better sense of my plans and my future direction then. Something small and informal.”

For the first time, he saw a crack in the other man’s careful veneer. “Dinner with you and Mayson?”

“You name the time and place.”

“I’ll talk to my wife and follow up.”

Holt tossed his napkin down a half hour later, still charged up from lunch. He’d lingered over another cup of coffee to handle a quick call after Craddick left, and could still taste the sweet moment of victory at the man’s change of heart. He knew how to close deals and that experience told him Teddy was close to signing on the dotted line.

And if he couldn’t shake the slight kernel of guilt at dropping Mayson’s name in the conversation, he could live with that. She’d basically agreed to the wedding over the weekend. Dinner with Teddy and his wife would be the perfect place to begin announcing their plans with old friends.

He took one last sip of his coffee and pocketed his phone as a familiar voice floated over his shoulder. “Busy lunch?”

Turning toward his mother, he put on his most humorless smile as he stood from his chair. “Eavesdrop much?”

“Just keeping an eye on my favorite son.” She pointed to the seat Teddy had vacated. “Join your mother for a cup of coffee.”

“I’ve got plans.”

“So do I.” She settled her hands in her lap, looking for all the world like a lady who lunched. “I think you might want to hear them.”

He took his seat, that wash of helplessness that had ridden him since childhood clamping around his ankles like steel bars. Even now, long after he’d escaped her influence, she was here. And she made him feel small. He gritted his teeth against the emotion, willing it to subside by sheer force of will.

He wasn’t that young boy any longer. He had options. And he had power of his own.

The hazel eyes, so like the ones he saw in the mirror each morning, shifted as she gazed around the room. “I had a lovely time in France.”

“I’m delighted.”

Their waiter brought fresh cups of coffee, and Eloisa drew out the moment as she doctored hers. “It’s a lovely villa, but it does need a woman’s touch.”

Warning bells clicked in the back of his mind, but he said nothing as he took a sip of his own coffee. The rich flavor was bitter on his tongue as he waited for his mother to speak.

“You know, Holt, when I came to you a few weeks ago, I had a rather lucrative business proposition to share with you.”

“I’ve already given you my opinions on doing business together.”

She took a delicate sip of her coffee. “I’m amazed at how many things you seem to feel are so beneath you. I’ve simply asked for a little help. You know I could stay out of your hair for what amounts to a rather paltry sum.”

“I won’t front your schemes.”

“Who said anything about a scheme?”

A hard, cold bark of laughter lodged in his throat. The sensation was so bleak, without any remnants of humor, that the depth of his bitterness surprised even him. “I think I made my feelings more than clear on your last visit.”

“You owe me this.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“You owe me everything.” Her voice was whip-quick and layered with a degree of frost that was a distinct change from years gone by. Even at her worst, his mother had always maintained an appearance of civility and good humor. As if “one more job” would be all she needed to be happy forever more.

The woman who faced him now carried the stench of desperation.

“Just what have you gotten yourself into?”

“Nothing.”

“If you have any hope I’ll help you, you’d be wise not to play me.”

“And you’d be wise to listen to your mother.” She leaned forward, and the same impression he’d had in his office at her last visit struck him once more. She’d aged. Although she wasn’t much past her mid-50s, her lifestyle choices were taking a toll. The ravages were hidden well by artful make-up and impeccable clothing, but they couldn’t fully cover the price she paid for her poor choices.

“You think I don’t know what this little meeting was all about?”

“I don’t care what you think, and I stopped caring long ago.”

“Teddy Craddick. He was a mark I played years ago. I nearly came up to say hello, curious to see if he would remember me, the poised and professional auction-house girl who lovingly priced his wife’s baubles for the insurance company.”

“He’s savvier than you give him credit for. I’ve no doubt he’d have made the connection.”

Eloisa’s features took on a calculating sheen, one he’d seen all too often throughout his life. “And what’s he going to do when he makes the connection between you and me?”

“There’s nothing to tie us together.”

“Of course there is.” She pulled out her phone, flipping to a selection of photographs. “I just stayed in your home for a week. I’ve got photos. I’ve made calls from the house phone. I even used your Internet connection to manage a bit of business. Our matching eyes are usually the giveaway for anyone who might be looking. But add on my latest visit and I’ve got all I need.”

The neat way she boxed him in had images of his childhood rising up in his memory in thick, choppy waves. A greasy roll of nausea gripped his stomach, turning the contents of his lunch over as a line of sweat rolled down his back. And just like that, he was ten again, helpless to fight the avarice and self-indulgence that fueled his mother’s life.

She had the power to ruin everything he’d worked for—and would take a greedy, selfish sort of joy while she was at it. “What do you want?”

…

Holt slammed the lid of his laptop closed and stood to pace his office, well aware that round two with his mother had turned sordid and nasty. The standard ebb and flow of daily email would have to wait until he calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts.

He’d dealt with his mother before and he’d deal with her again, the initial shock fading as he worked out a strategy. What he couldn’t erase was the very real concern that she’d hurt Mayson and their child in the process. He cared for her, more than he’d ever cared for anyone, but could he give her what she needed? Although she hadn’t come out and said it, he knew she longed for a marriage that was more than a business transaction, more than a convenience because life had gotten messy.

Could he make her happy?

His background was an embarrassment he’d spent his adult life attempting to correct, and he knew his mother would be ruthless in her quest for financial backing. He preferred to think he’d not gotten many traits from Eloisa Turner, but the one they shared in spades was determination and perseverance.

And he was determined not to expose Mayson or their child to that sordid past.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and Mayson breezed in, a bright, vivid counterpoint to the ugliness of his day. It was as if he’d conjured her up from his thoughts, and he crossed to her, pulling her into his arms. He had to assure himself she was real. Solid. As he pulled her close, he pressed his hand to her stomach, imagining the life growing there.

For the briefest moment, she sank into his arms, her acquiescence evident. And then she stiffened as if the moment had never been. “I got a call from Sarah Craddick a little while ago.”

He pulled back, keeping her in the circle of his arms, but she broke free. Her need for distance was more than evident as she stepped away from him. “What did she say?”

“That she and Teddy were delighted to join us for dinner and she wanted to set up a time that worked for all of us.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I needed to confirm your schedule. Then I spent a half hour asking questions about her daughter’s upcoming wedding and barely listened to a word.”

“Look—”

He broke off as she whirled on him, her movements full of barely restrained fury. “How dare you do that? Put us on display like that? And to close a damn deal.”

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Explain it to me.”

The moment was slipping away from him and he wasn’t sure how to bring it back on track. Yes, he’d used his relationship with Mayson to butter up Craddick, but he needed that deal. Needed to make things right. Add on the very real news that they were getting married and he saw no reason to pretend otherwise. “Teddy called me to have lunch. Wanted to go over my proposal and is practically sold on the idea. I suggested we go to dinner to iron out the last few details.”

“You can’t do that over a boardroom table?”

“He’s made a point of how he wants his business associates to be friends.”

“So you dangled me.”

“I didn’t dangle anything. As my wife, you’ll be expected to join me at events and functions. It’s how business gets done.”

She squared her shoulders and he saw determination in every line of her body. “I know how business works, and I’m well-aware that entertaining is a part of it. But I want you to admit that’s not why you invited Teddy to dinner.”

“It’s all the same.”

“No, it’s not. You used me as an asset to close the deal.”

“You’re my partner, Mayson. We’re going to be a team, and I need you to get on board with that.”

“No, I don’t need to get on board with anything. And I’m certainly not going to marry you. This merger idea is no longer on the table.”

“You have to marry me. We’re agreed this is the right path. The right choice for both of us and for our child.”

It was just like her parents all over again. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Why hadn’t she understood she was putting herself on the same path as her mother? Her father couldn’t be bothered to talk to her mother about his plans, but he damn sure expected she’d fall in line once he made them. Holt hadn’t really behaved any differently.

She wasn’t going to be the same, wasn’t going to live like that. Wasn’t going to wait for the day he woke up and decided he needed to start looking outside their marriage for his happiness. She wouldn’t consign herself to that.

“I’ll join you for dinner with the Craddick’s and I’ll play the dutiful wife. We don’t tell them about the baby and we don’t give any real sense of plans. I’m not marrying you, but they don’t need to know that.”

“You can’t lie to some of your oldest family friends.”

“Watch me.”

Chapter Ten

Mayson was still riled up three days later as she prepped for dinner with Teddy and his wife. The wedding dress Keira had suggested she hang on to mocked her from where it hung on her closet door, and she tried to avoid looking at it, the oversized garment bag a bleak reminder of what she and Holt would never have. He’d tried calling several times, but she kept their conversation minimal, unwilling to engage in anything beyond surface chatter. Or give him the opportunity to try and change her mind.

She’d do her duty and help Holt out—why, she still couldn’t quite understand—and then it was time to go their separate ways. They had nothing between them but heat and passion, and that wasn’t enough to make a life.

What about a baby?

Her conscience had clamored louder and louder about the life growing inside of her, but no matter how she twisted it, she couldn’t use her child as the reason to marry Holt.

The buzz of her phone indicated a call from her doorman and she answered it, confirming she’d be down to the lobby shortly. She hated putting Danny in the middle of her battle with Holt, but she didn’t want him in her home. Didn’t want to picture him on her furniture or standing in her hallway. She missed him already, and she still had the sparks of righteous anger fueling her fury.

Holt stood waiting for her a few minutes later as she stepped off the elevator. She took some small measure of comfort that he looked as confused and tired as she felt, but she opted for a simple hello as she walked up to him.

“I’ve missed you.” He leaned forward to brush her cheek with his lips, but she took a step back. “So it’s going to be like this all night?”

“I’ll play the part at the restaurant.”

“Mayson—” He broke off, her name hovering between them. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What do you want it to be like?” When he didn’t answer, she pointed toward the door and his car she could see idling out front. “We need to get going.”

He helped her into the car, his hand tight on hers, and she fought the urge to give in and turn into his arms. Her traitorous thoughts flitted back to the last time they were in the back of his car, the moments heated and sexual between them.

Get a grip, McBride.

He slid in next to her, the driver gently closing the door once he was settled in. “I almost forgot.”

“What—” The rest of her sentence faded off as she caught sight of the small, black velvet box in his hands. “Oh.”

“You need a ring.”

“No.” The protest welled up, along with two stubborn tears that ran matched tracks down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because it shouldn’t be like this.”

“What should it be like?”

“Not like this. A sham.”

“The motivations are our business.” He slid closer to her on the seat, opening the box as he moved. “It doesn’t negate the fact that you deserve something beautiful.”

Streetlights outside the car flashed into the interior of the limo, and she marveled at the many facets that glowed from where the ring perched in the small box. The stone was breathtaking, an emerald-cut diamond that sat nestled between two diamond trillions. The sting of more tears stuck in her throat and she swallowed hard, unwilling to let them mar the moment.

This was a charade, nothing more. Her mother had endured one for more than thirty years. As Holt slipped the ring on her finger, she thanked the heavens she’d only have to endure one for a few weeks. She simply didn’t have the heart to hold out any longer than that.

…

The darkened restaurant seemed to envelop them as Mayson and Holt walked through the interior. Teddy had reserved a private room at the back, and as they followed the maître d’, she couldn’t ignore the jingle of nerves that lit her up like a slot machine. Nor could she stop the surreptitious glances at the ring that winked on the third finger of her left hand.

How could the excitement and confidence she’d felt when they went up to Hands, Hearts and Hugs—and after, when they made love—just vanish so completely?

She knew he must think her moods mercurial and hormonal at best, but something had fractured when she stood in the fashion closet at the office. And then it had broken clean through when she got the call from Sarah, blithely discussing their plans for dinner.

He’d acted without consulting with her. Worse, he’d put her in a position of lying about their perfect romance to some of her family’s oldest friends, an act she was only exacerbating with their performance this evening.

That wasn’t love, or even genuine affection.

It was a business arrangement.

Holt leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You look like you’re walking to a firing squad, not a five-star dinner.” His voice—deep and reassuring in her ear—set off a sudden attack of nerves. Heat flooded her system, and her body betrayed her with its entirely inappropriate reaction to the man.

“I’m ready to have this over.”

A bleak glaze hovered in his eyes, their normally vivid irises dull and lifeless. “I’m sorry this evening feels like such a chore.”

“Don’t worry. I’m more than up for the task.” She took his hand in a tight grip and pasted a smile on her face. “I’m a better actress than my mother. They’ll never know I’m just here as window dressing.”

Holt pulled them up short, outside the doorway to the private dining room. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who set up dinner.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned in and vanquished. Despite the inappropriate location, he had his mouth fastened to hers and his hands on her waist, pulling her close, in less time than it took for her heart to take a beat.

The ire that had fueled her thoughts since their showdown in his office faded in the face of what she wanted so desperately to believe in. With that foremost in her mind, she lifted a hand to the back of his head and pulled him close. The kiss spun out, hard and fast, dragging them both to the edge of want, need, desire, and a whole host of emotions she knew there wasn’t time to dissect at the moment.

But later…

He lifted his head, and for the first time since he’d picked her up, she took an easy breath. Whether she liked it or not, they would do this.

Together.

…

Holt still struggled to get the taste of her off his tongue an hour later as they ate their salads. The uncomfortable need for her—a need that refused to be sated—had hit the flashover point, and he’d have given his eye-teeth to be anywhere but at this damn dinner.

For their part, Teddy and Sarah Craddick couldn’t be happier Mayson was there. She’d already been subject to wedding horror stories, grandbaby photos, and social gossip. To her credit, Mayson not only took it in stride, but she gave as good as she got. She suggested a florist and a seamstress to help fix some of the wedding drama, cooed sufficiently over photos, and smiled politely through the name-dropping. She was incredible. And she was an asset. Holt knew it was true, even as he knew it wasn’t the real reason he’d wanted her along.

He just wanted her.

“I want to hear all about how Holt proposed,” Sarah said, her gaze bright and her voice dreamy.

Mayson kept the details to a minimum, assuring Sarah it was a very new development. Holt peppered in his share of comments, explaining his impulsive need to be with her and how it just came over him to pop the question. He took the good-natured ribbing that he needed to get over impulse and plan something romantic, but since Sarah was already oohing and aahing over the engagement ring, they managed to skip over the most probing questions.

He couldn’t have scripted a more perfect evening.

Even if the slightest twinge lingered in his gut at the lie that was their engagement.

He’d lived by one credo in his professional life, and that was to deal in honesty. He knew Mayson’s impetuous suggestion in his office had been out of a need to help him see the deal through, but he wanted so much more. He wanted her and their baby and the life the three of them could make together.

Their waiter laid the next course on the table, and he used the moment to lean over and whisper in her ear. “I hope you realize I’m not giving up.”

“I hope you realize I’m not done fighting you.”

“Then clearly we need a bit more negotiation as part of our merger discussion.”

He watched her eyes widen and her mouth drop into a small “o,” and fought the temptation to reach up and rub his thumb over her lower lip.

God, how he wanted her.

Holt didn’t miss Sarah’s knowing smile before she focused on her plate. Nor did he miss the subtle shift at the table as Teddy took control of the evening, moving their conversation on to business. He was prepared and was more than ready to get the discussion over with.

“I sent over a counter proposal. What did you think of it?”

Holt nodded. “All your points were fair. I’m not sure why you’re refusing the tenant option. You can make the building far more profitable if you sublease it.”

“I don’t want others in my business.”

“They’re tenants, not others. And you contract them into the space, to your specifications. Add on the progress we already made on the suggested tax breaks, as well as the local agreement to refurbish the subway station that services the area. The build can accommodate the expansion of the station so tenants can access through the bottom levels of the building.”

“I saw that.”

“We’ve also addressed concerns about on-site security with that subway access.”

“Good, good.” The older man nodded. “You’ve thought of everything. Addressed anything I could have thought of and more.”

“Excellent.” Holt took a bite of his meal. They’d passed the most challenging part of the evening and the rest of the dinner would be smooth sailing, which would allow him and Mayson to get on their way and try to work through their relationship.

“I’ve got one more question.”

“Of course.”

“Who is Eloisa Westmoreland?”

…

Mayson watched the color drain from Holt’s face as a stoic mask came down over his features. Why was Teddy asking about Holt’s mother? How could he know? Whatever she thought about Holt’s overreaction to his mother’s possible motives, she knew full well he didn’t discuss her with others, which meant something had happened to either bring Eloisa into Teddy’s orbit or Teddy had done some less than savory digging into Holt’s past.

Holt’s features were stiff, but it was his voice—deadly quiet and full of frost—that had her dropping a hand to his knee. “She has nothing to do with this deal, Teddy.”

“She requested a meeting with me yesterday. Said she had some information I needed to hear.”

“And?”

“I’ve done some digging since talking to her.”

It was like a ping-pong match, each sending another round of volleys across the net. “Then you wasted your time.”

Mayson didn’t miss the fire that burned in Holt’s gaze. His gaze was bleak, but battle sparked clearly in the depths of his eyes.

“She’s suspected of fraud in three business deals. She’s also suspected of several high-profile thefts.”

“An unfortunate circumstance she brought on herself.”

“Circumstances you were well aware of.”

Mayson reached for his hand once more, prepared to give him support now and ask questions later, when he pulled his hand away. She struggled to ignore the hurt that welled quickly, but couldn’t shake the embarrassment of his rejection.

“My mother’s poor choices have nothing to do with me. They never have.”

“You can’t deny you keep in contact with her.”

“It’s long past time to deny anything, Teddy. It’s also long past time we end our discussion. I realize now I never should have pursued your business. My apologies for wasting your time.”

Mayson stood with Holt, their dinner coming to an abrupt end. She made her hasty good-byes to Sarah and sidestepped anything beyond a polite “thank you for dinner” to Teddy and followed Holt from the restaurant.

The ride to her apartment was quiet, the bright street lights streaming through the tinted windows turning Holt’s face into a garish mask of anger and what she could only believe was regret.

“Holt?”

“Not now.”

She wanted to reach out to him and touch him, but even that seemed forbidden. She wanted to ease the pain that was so clearly there, but each time she thought to reach for him, his stiff, stoic demeanor held her back. There’d be time enough for all of it once they were in the quiet privacy of her apartment. Time enough to work through whatever had gone so horribly wrong at dinner. Because whatever she’d deluded herself into believing all week, there was no way she was walking away. No way she could leave him when he was hurt like this.

Other than his request that they wait to talk, Holt stayed quiet for the duration of the ride. Only after the endlessly silent ride to her apartment did he finally speak as they stood before her door. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

“If you think you’re going to turn around and leave, guess again.”

“Look—”

“Oh no. I put up with the silent treatment in the car, but we’re going to discuss this.”

“Now’s not the time.”

“Now is the perfect time.” She finished with the third lock and swung the door wide open. “I’ve got some things I need to say.”

The darkened apartment beckoned them inside, and she moved through the room to turn on all the lights. It was a simple thing, but the need for brightness was almost palpable. Whatever they needed to say to each other, it needed to be out in the open. They were going to deal with it.

“Would you like a drink?”

“I’m fine.”

Mayson headed for the kitchen and snagged a few bottled waters. She wanted one, and she suspected that before their conversation was finished, he’d be glad she’d retrieved a second for him. When she rejoined him in the living room, she was touched by the figure he made as he stood by the darkened windows. It was so like the moment she’d come upon him at the beach, the first day they were reacquainted. He was so damned solitary.

“Talk to me. Share this with me.”

He turned from the window, his face blank. “Why? So it can taint you? So I can put you in a position where you have to sit across from a family friend and hear him make accusations about my background, and clearly my ethics? Ethics, by the way,” he reached for the water bottle she’d set on the coffee table and pulled off the cap with a harsh twist, “that we didn’t exactly honor by making up our little engagement.”

“It’s our business, and Teddy Craddick would do well to remember that. I don’t owe him my personal life and neither do you. If he doesn’t want to do business with you, that’s his choice, but let’s get over the worry that he’s got any say at all in what happens between us.”

“He does have a hell of a lot to say about my mother, and he’s hardly wrong.”

“She forced you to make choices. You can’t think you’re responsible for those things. Actions you were forced into as a child.”

“Situational ethics, Mayson, nothing more. None of it changes the fact I haven’t turned her in.”

“She’s your mother.”

“And she’s a criminal.”

“Have you helped her as an adult? Participated in anything that could be construed as illegal?”

“No.”

“Has she told you about what she’s doing?”

“There’s no reason to play back my actions as saintly.”

“And there’s no reason to play the martyr, either.”

He stood up to pace again, and she couldn’t tear her gaze from his large form as he crisscrossed the room. “It’s hardly that simple. I did talk to a detective years ago. Thought I could do something about the situation. Despite my input, they weren’t able to pin anything on her, and I had to ramp up my office security to avoid recrimination once she figured out the police were nosing around.”

“So you did right by the situation.”

“So right I shut down any further involvement. At that point, I had employees to worry about and their safety at the forefront of my thoughts. If the police couldn’t be bothered to take my input, there was no reason to keep barking up that tree and putting others in danger.”

“Again, I fail to see how that’s your fault.”

The bleak calm that rode his features dissolved in an instant as he turned on her. “Because she’s still out there. Still conning her way through life. It ebbs and flows depending on whether or not she’s snagged a rich partner, but she always ends up right back in the same place. I’ve spent my life trying to put distance between myself and that, and still it follows me like a stench I can’t remove no matter how hard I try.”

“I don’t know why you can’t see reason on this, Holt. You’re not her and you’re not responsible for her decisions. You run a good, honest business, and you’ve worked damn hard. That counts for something.”

A hard, bitter laugh rumbled up from his throat. “Until I sit in a business dinner, with my fake fiancée, unable to close a multi-million dollar business deal because my mother’s a thief and my opponent thinks the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Then he’s the idiot.”

“Easy words from a woman who’s accomplished every damn thing she’s set out to do, backed by a family with the entire town’s respect and admiration.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on!” Holt flung his arms wide as he turned to face her from across the room. “You can talk about how far above the wealth and the power you are, but it’s only because you have those things and have always had those things.”

Shock mixed with an increasing haze of red across her vision at his words. “My upbringing has absolutely nothing to do with how hard I work or how I see the purpose of wealth. It’s not a damn contest, Holt. No one wins at the end of their life because they’ve got the biggest pile.”

“You can’t deny you like the life you’ve got.” His gaze roamed the room. “You know as well as I do most people in this city don’t live in penthouse apartments overlooking the park.”

She knew this conversation wasn’t going to be easy, had known it the entire ride home from the restaurant, but nothing had prepared her for the vitriol that dripped from his every word. She knew he hadn’t built his empire because he sat back and refused to take action, but this was something else, something dark and dangerous. And deeply hurtful.

“Where is this coming from?”

“You don’t understand—and you can’t understand—the position I’m in.”

“And you refuse to let me try.” Hurt flared inside and she couldn’t stop the icy cold that spread through her limbs. Perhaps it was the lingering resentment of his attitude about her wealth. Or maybe it was the very real evidence that whatever had been tentatively built between them was crumbling. “Now, in this conversation. And even before at dinner, when I tried to take your hand in mine. When it’s on your terms, we have a relationship, but when I push for anything or attempt to offer comfort, you push me away.”

“We aren’t a match, no matter how hard we try to ignore that. You’re sunshine and flowers and weekends helping kids, and I’m the product of a thief. Oil and water at its best.”

“So how do you explain what we have when we’re together? When it’s nothing but the two of us?”

“Sexual attraction, nothing more.”

“I don’t believe that, and I know you don’t, either.”

“Oh no?”

Holt had her off her feet and in his arms in a matter of moments. Where the spontaneous kiss in the restaurant had been filled with unexpected passion, this was a kiss meant to make a point.

A kiss meant to bruise.

With a hard push, she shoved against his shoulders, dragging her mouth away from his. “You’re not a bully so quit the act.”

He dropped his hands to his sides, but she didn’t miss the icy chill that emanated off him in waves. “I’m a cold-hearted bastard. I tried to tell you that before, but you didn’t believe me. Hell.” He laughed, a cold, empty, mirthless echo that faded into the room. “I didn’t want to believe me, but it’s true. It’s always been true.”

He reached for the suit jacket he’d laid down when they came in. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

She said nothing as he dragged on the suit coat and walked out the door.

Chapter Eleven

“Honey, you have to tell us what’s wrong.”

Keira and Camryn hovered around her shoulders as the three of them sat in Keira’s office with the door closed. Mayson poured out everything that had happened at dinner the night before, stopping short of divulging the news of Holt’s mother.

“I can’t believe he threw out that bullshit about your upbringing.” Camryn punctuated the comment with a harsh snort. “It’s low, and it’s not even remotely true.”

“It’s a shield.”

Keira’s comment caught Mayson mid-snatch on a fresh tissue. “He said it, K. Right to my face. He used my background and how I’ve grown up with privilege as a reason we’re not meant for each other.”

It was Keira’s turn to snort. “Right. I hate to sound gauche, but that man has more money than our family ten times over. He’s a business maven, and he gives Nathan a run for his money. However impoverished his childhood, those days are long gone, and I doubt Holt Turner has spent too many days worrying about it.”

“He’s afraid of something,” Camryn said. “And he’s trying to bluff his way through the fear.”

“Men like Holt don’t get afraid.” Mayson shook her head as she reached for another tissue.

Keira’s sudden burst of laughter was so unexpected, Mayson could only stare at her. “Why are you laughing?”

“He’s a human being, sweetie. And a powerful one at that. Of course he gets scared.”

“Nathan doesn’t get scared,” Camryn was quick to point out. “He’s tough, and frankly, if he wasn’t my brother-in-law, I’d very likely think he was scary.”

“Oh God, please do not tell him that. He’ll be insufferable.” Keira’s expression was serious. “Don’t take away Holt’s humanity. Just because he refuses to show fear, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have any way down deep inside where we all keep ourselves hidden away.”

“I don’t know.” Mayson was prevented from saying anything by a knock on the door, and all three of them turned as their father’s voice boomed into the room.

“All my girls together.”

“Dad!” Mayson dragged the pads of her fingers over her tears, trying to hide the fact she’d been crying, but it was no use. He immediately zeroed in on the tears.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

Keira motioned Camryn with what appeared to be a “let’s get coffee” gesture, but Mayson knew it for what it was. The time had come to tell her dad about the baby.

Her father took the seat Camryn had vacated and leaned forward to wrap her in a hug. “What’s wrong?” For a moment, she simply allowed herself to be held. She took in the warmth and comfort of a parent and, without warning, the tears spilled out, like water over a dam. “There you go. Get it out.”

She tried to fill him in with fits and starts, before giving up and letting the tears flow until she was dry. He ran a fresh tissue over her cheeks before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. A gentleness she’d seen rarely filled his eyes. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

So she did.

…

“A baby? You’re going to be a mother?”

Mayson nodded a few minutes later. “I know it’s not the way I’d have imagined it, but I’m so excited about this baby.”

“I’m going to be a grandfather? When?”

“In about six and a half more months.”

He pulled her close once more before wiping at the corner of his own eyes. “Wow. My baby. You’re going to make an incredible mother. Just like your mom.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“You thought she was a good mom?”

“The best.”

While she didn’t want to ruin the moment, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ask the questions that had been hovering in her mind since the entire discussion of marriage had begun with Holt. “You and mom didn’t have a good marriage.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Yet you thought she was a great mother.”

“She was a great everything.” A hard slash of pain filled his features, and for the moment Mayson thought she’d overstepped. “I failed your mother, not the other way around.”

“Dad—” The truth of his words stopped her. They couldn’t go back. Couldn’t change what was. And in a very real sense, who she was as a person—and who she was professionally—was tied to his choices. “What if Holt and I end up in the same place?”

“That would be pretty hard to do since you’re different people than us. You see the world differently, you always have.”

“My eye in the sky.” He’d teased her with that moniker often enough in her youth Mayson had come to associate it with the dreamy state she often sunk into when she was designing something or focusing on a shoot.

“Don’t ever change it.” Her father leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can’t rewrite the past, and I don’t deserve to. But I want you to think about what you want. What makes you happy. It took me a long time to realize what you girls created, and I’m so proud of what you’ve done. What you’ve built.”

“Thanks.”

“Now it’s time to focus on building your family. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. And don’t let anything stand in the way of your happiness.”

Of all the places she had expected to find wisdom, it wasn’t at the hands of her father. Funny enough, it was exactly what she needed to hear.

…

Holt slammed around his apartment, unable to get the last image of Mayson out of his mind’s eye. She’d just stood there in the middle of her living room, watching him leave. And he’d been the stupid asshole who’d left.

He was on his fifth day without sleep and knew he was ragged and frayed, on the edge of losing everything he held dear. Everything in the world that really mattered.

Mayson and his child.

His phone line buzzed and he recognized the ring as his doorman, and wasn’t surprised to discover Nathan was in his lobby, interested in coming up. The brisk knock a few minutes later had a renewed wave of anger coursing through the pounding in his head. “What do you want?”

Nathan’s eyebrows shot up, but he avoided answering, instead tossing his own opening volley as he walked through the open door. “You look like hell.”

“And I’m sure you know why.”

“I do.”

Before he could say anything, could even come up with a thought, a heavy fist planted itself in his face and Holt staggered backward with the force of Nathan’s punch. “What the hell?”

Nathan bent down and shoved his face within inches of Holt’s. “That’s for my sister-in-law. The only reason I’m not adding one for my wife is because you look so damned pitiful.”

With an extended hand, Nathan pulled him up and walked him toward the living room. “Sit down and I’ll get you some coffee. Then you can give me your side of the story, which, I’ve got to tell you, doesn’t make you look like anything but a raging asshole.”

“Probably because I am a raging asshole.”

“I’ll reserve final judgment until I hear your side from you.”

Nathan walked back in a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee and handed him one. Holt took it and downed a first sip. Despite the heat, the hit of caffeine went a long way toward helping him focus his thoughts. “My mother is a thief. World-class.”

“I know.”

“What?” Holt’s gaze flew to his friend’s, the smug smile there nearly sending him out of his chair to throw a few punches of his own. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I know. I’ve known since our first deal.”

“You did a background check on me?”

“Likely from the same firm who ran the one on me that you commissioned, so you can get off that high horse.”

“I’ve covered it up. The part about my mother,” he said, still curious how Nathan could have known he’d checked him out all those years ago.

“Then maybe we didn’t use the same firm, because the one I secured was still able to dig it up.”

“She’s a train wreck I’ve carefully and meticulously distanced myself from.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Holt stared at his friend over the rim of his mug as he took another sip. “You really need to ask me that?”

Nathan leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “She’s not you, Holt. You’ve made something of yourself that’s good and strong and honest. What she chooses to do is her own path, and not acknowledging that undermines what you’ve worked on and built all on your own merits.”

Holt wanted to believe that, but he knew the reality was often different. “Craddick found out, and he has no interest in doing a deal.”

“Teddy Craddick is a blowhard who thinks he’s got way more influence than he does.”

“He’s not a trifle, Nathan.”

“He’s also not nearly the mover and shaker he once was. And he shouldn’t be. Hell, the man should be enjoying his damn retirement instead of poking his nose into deals. His sons are more than capable of running the company, and have been doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Craddick’s one of my mother’s cons.” Realization dawned in Nathan’s eyes and Holt couldn’t resist a jab. “Didn’t get that one out of your damn background check, huh?”

“So you want to incentivize him to assuage your conscience?”

“Something like that.” Holt took a sip of the coffee. “It’s worked with others.”

“She’s a poison, and she needs to be dealt with.”

“I know. And I have an idea if you want in.”

“Hell yeah I want in.”

Holt rubbed his chest as he took another sip of coffee. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s about as miserable as you.”

“I love her.” The words were so simple, so easy, he wondered why he’d run from them for so much of his life. Maybe because Mayson Elizabeth McBride had never been a part of his life. But now that she was here, nothing else mattered the way she did. “I screwed this up big time.”

“Yeah, you did. But you can fix it.” Nathan hesitated for the briefest moment before continuing. “I do need to know something.”

“What?”

“Are you happy about the baby?”

“I want both of them, Nathan. I want that so damn much I can’t see straight.”

“Then let’s get started.”

…

Holt stood outside Teddy Craddick’s office, still amazed at the irony of what he was about to do. He glanced down at the slim file in his hands and flipped through the already-memorized pages once more.

Damn, but the universe did have a sense of humor.

Teddy’s assistant waved him toward the door. “Please go on in, Mr. Turner.”

The inner sanctum of Teddy’s office was pretty much what he’d pictured, including the small putting green in the corner. Holt strode across it to shake the man’s extended hand. “Thanks for taking the time to see me.”

“I can’t deny I’m curious.”

“You willing to keep what we discuss in this room?”

Holt saw the interest flare in the old man’s eyes, and Nathan’s words came rushing back. He’s also not nearly the mover and shaker he once was. As Holt assessed Teddy through that new lens, he realized he’d been the one who had made the man larger than life. And he’d allowed his guilt to force his hand in ways it shouldn’t have.

On a deep breath, he dived in. “About twenty years ago, you and your wife lost some very valuable belongings. I can’t get them back for you, but I may have a way we can call it even.”

…

Holt settled into the conference room at Craddick Inc. The urge to check his watch was strong, but he put what was to come out of his mind. His mother would be taken care of and the Craddicks would be made whole. While he knew it didn’t fully absolve him of his silence, it went a long way toward making things right. What he cared about even more was phase two of his plans. Making everything up to Mayson.

If his emotions dealing with his mother were a blend of calm indifference and the dull relief things would finally be over, his anticipation at seeing Mayson again was sky-high. A light knock at the door indicated Teddy was ready for him and Holt stood, ready to do his part.

He and Nathan had coached the older man on exactly how he needed to play Eloisa, and as Holt walked down the hall toward Teddy’s office, he got a thumbs-up from Nathan where he hid with a team of NYPD detectives.

True to form, his mother was impeccably dressed, and Holt adopted a sneer as he walked into the room. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited.”

From that moment, he and Teddy played her like a pair of virtuosos. Craddick laid out the deal on the table. Holt sweetened the pot.

Teddy discussed incentives and his need for a business partner, suggesting Eloisa’s connections might be more than suitable. Holt cut down each of her suggestions, frustrating her into making a mistake. And finally Teddy went in for the kill, suggesting he’d remembered Eloisa from an earlier meeting. Holt watched, fascinated, as his mother shifted from one technique to the next, tactic after tactic as she tried to salvage the meeting.

It was only at the end, when Holt presented Teddy with a check for the lost items, that they finally broke her. The cracks he’d seen in her composure in their latest dealings had been the final piece that had convinced Holt they might have an advantage over her. He’d been proven correct when she went into one of her wild outbursts, her increasing sense of entitlement her ultimate downfall.

…

He stared at his mother where she sat handcuffed and awaiting a trip to police headquarters. Teddy had given them a few minutes alone in his office, time Holt didn’t want or need. After three decades of living with her choices hanging over his head, he thought it almost poetic her downfall had taken such a short amount of time. He felt no remorse for the set up, only a fierce sense of relief.

Her eyes blazed with a blend of anger and hatred as she stared at him across Craddick’s office. “You set me up.”

Holt shrugged. “You should have left me alone.”

“I gave you everything.”

“No, Eloisa. I gave me everything. You’ve done nothing but try to take it away.”

She waved her hands at him where they were bound at the wrist by handcuffs. “This is entrapment. Nothing’s going to stick.”

“It will when I testify to what you’ve done.”

“Things you took part in.”

“Well, then, it’s lucky for me I’ve spent the last decade working on cleaning up your messes and maintaining some rather detailed files of my own.”

It was Nathan who’d finally convinced him that he had nothing to hide from. His business practices were honest and above board, and he had made clearly concerted efforts to make reparation to those she’d stolen from.

The detective who helped arrange the sting knocked before opening the door, and raised Eloisa to her feet. Whatever façade she’d hidden behind in the past vanished, and her words were as dark as they were self-recriminating. “You’ve always thought you were above me. That your books and your education made you better than me.”

“I wanted something else. Something I earned.”

The detective led his mother from the room and Nathan walked in after they’d departed, slapping him on the back. “Time heals all wounds, buddy. You’re well rid of her.”

“You can gloat later.” Holt nudged his friend away from the door. “I’ve still got some groveling to do.”

“Go get her.”

…

Mayson stared down at the layout and tried to focus on the words that underpinned the various images in the piece. She stood over her light box with a series of alternative images and couldn’t seem to focus on any of them. She’d already read the accompanying text a half dozen times, but the words refused to sink in.

The art department had outdone themselves—one photo was more vibrant and vivid than the next—and she wanted to give the work the proper attention, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her head in the game.

And she couldn’t get Holt out of her mind.

With a soft sigh, she thought of the small photo she kept tucked in her top desk drawer. The image on the ultrasound was so tiny, but it was there all the same. Her baby. A warm flutter at the photographic evidence of her pregnancy filled her and she smiled. No matter how bad she’d bungled things with Holt, she had this. Their child. And she was determined to make the very best choices she could for this baby she loved more than she’d ever thought possible.

A hard knock echoed from her doorway and the breath caught in her throat as Holt filled the jamb.

“Hi.” He smiled, and she saw the tired lines that framed his eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve got a lot to tell you.” He glanced around the office. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure.”

“Mind if I close the door?”

“Should I mind?” Her fingers itched to touch him, to smooth out those lines she saw on his face and kiss his lips, but she stayed where she was, in front of her light box, her hands full of layouts.

“I had a big day.”

“What happened?”

“Well, in no particular order, I cut a deal with Teddy Craddick, scammed my mother, then had her arrested, and finally came to my senses.”

She knew there was something else in his words, but she couldn’t pull her attention off the news of his mother’s arrest. “What happened?”

“The short version is your brother-in-law is a genius who helped me figure out how to set her up and make it stick. A slightly longer version is that it was a long time coming and I should have done something a hell of a lot sooner. I’ll give you the Lifetime Movie of the Week version over dinner, if you’ll share it with me.”

“There’s nothing to share, Holt. I thought we both understood that clearly when you left my apartment the other night.”

“I’m a stupid asshole. That’s all that happened in your apartment the other night.”

“A stupid asshole who has stayed away for nearly a week.”

“I thought the term ‘stupid asshole’ was sort of self-evident?”

She didn’t want to laugh, but damn it if he couldn’t make her smile. “What else did you do today? Rule the boardroom? Manage a little world domination while you were at it?”

“I closed a deal with Teddy Craddick.” He took a few steps closer.

“Very nice.”

“And I came to my senses.” He took another few steps closer, enough so that he could reach out and touch her hand with his index finger.

She fought the shiver incited by that simple touch. “What did that involve?”

“Knowing that I love you. That I want to make a life with you and have babies with you.”

The ever-present tears that she couldn’t seem to get rid of pricked the backs of her eyes.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I can’t seem to stop lately.” She waved a hand. “Pregnancy hormones or something.”

“Can you always use that excuse when I act like a raging ass? You know, even when you’re not pregnant? Because I can’t promise I’m not going to mess up in the future.”

“According to you and all the babies you want to have, it sounds like I may be pregnant for a while.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not if you don’t mind sharing the load.”

Holt moved forward and lifted the layouts from her hand, setting them down on the table behind her back. “I want to share the load. If you’ll have me, I’ll share it with you every day.”

She tilted her head to stare up at him. So much had happened in such a short time and there were so many things she wanted to tell him. So many things she wanted to say. But in the end, only one thing really mattered. “I love you.”

His mouth came down over hers, full of warmth and passion, affection and understanding. And love. Underpinning it all was love.

He lifted his head from hers and gazed down into her eyes. The emotions she saw there were pure and so very, very full of promise. “I love you, Mayson Elizabeth McBride. And I want to marry you and make a family with you.”

“I want that, too.”

He smiled broadly before he stared down at her hand. “Where’s your ring?”

She felt the hot blush creep up her neck. “In my purse. You forgot it last week when you left and, well…”

“Go get it.”

She pulled her purse from the bottom drawer, her fingers closing over the ring. As she did so, she thought about the other things she kept in her desk and removed the sonogram photo. He captured her as she came around the desk. “Let me.”

She handed him the ring and watched, mesmerized, as he dropped to his knee before her. “Mayson Elizabeth McBride. Will you marry me?”

Love, strong and true, welled in her heart. They might not have had the most logical of starts, but what they had was pure and true. More than that, she was committed to making it work. To making a life with him.

She pulled the photo out from where she held it behind her back. “We will.”

With trembling fingers, she handed him the first photo of their child and watched as every dream she’d ever held, every truth she’d ever whispered in the depths of her heart, reflected back at her in his gaze. “This is our baby.”

“Yes.”

He exhaled on a heavy breath as his gaze returned to the photo. “Amazing.”

“And all ours in about six and a half months.”

A look of wonder rode his features as he pulled her close once more and slipped the ring on her finger. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her stomach before standing and pulling her close.

As she lifted her mouth to his, Mayson put every ounce of promise into the kiss, the truth of her love undeniable.

The promise of their future awaiting them both.

Epilogue

Keira had been right about the dress.

Why Mayson even spent one moment in doubt, she didn’t know, but she supposed it came with the territory as a soon-to-be bride. Thankfully, she’d only had to be one for two weeks.

The simple lines framed her body and accentuated her figure. Mayson smoothed her fingers over the delicate silk of the bodice and smiled to herself where her belly rounded slightly. The thought of the life that grew there filled her with wonder and a deep appreciation for what she had, as well as the future she and Holt were about to embark on.

“Mayson. It’s time.” Keira waved her from the hallway, and she didn’t miss the excitement that put bright color on her sister’s cheeks.

“You ready?” Camryn smiled at her as she handed over a small bouquet of white roses.

“Yes.” She was ready. Ready for her life with Holt to begin. Excited for the arrival of the child they both wanted and were so anxious to see. Equipped with the love she needed to see them through life’s ups and downs.

Camryn helped her with the train of the dress, folding it over her arm before handing over her bouquet. A sheen of tears covered her eyes before a few spilled out and over her cheeks.

Keira waved from the door. “No crying, Camryn! If you cry, you’ll make me cry. And that’ll make the bride cry, who, let’s face it, can’t stop crying lately.”

“Hey!” Mayson said in mock protest.

Keira ignored her and continued with her drill sergeant routine. “We still need to get her picture.”

Camryn added a jaunty salute before gesturing her down the long hallway, where Mayson met Holt at the doors of city hall. They’d decided on something quiet and private, and then would do something more formal after the baby arrived.

This was for them.

And the look of love shining from Holt’s eyes made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world. “You’re sure it’s not bad luck, you seeing me first?”

“You’re beautiful.” He bent down and pressed his lips to her ear. “And we make our own luck. Remember that.”

“I will.”

They waited their turn behind two other couples, and it was only as they were waiting to be called forward that Mayson remembered their earliest discussions about getting married. “Was this what you had in mind when we discussed a merger?”

“Are you still hung up on that whole idea? Because, baby, I don’t need an out clause. Or a golden parachute. And I’m certainly not looking for a business transaction.”

“What are you looking for?”

The smile in his eyes softened his features, the strong, formidable man she knew fading a bit as a lighter air seemed to hover around him. “A marriage. Something I can celebrate every single day with you.”

“Me, too.”

“It’s you, Mayson. I’ve been looking for you. Long before I even knew I was looking, my heart knew you. Knew I was waiting for you.”

She lifted on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“You’d better, because I’m keeping you. Merger to marriage, baby. That’s the deal.”

“And it’s the only deal I want.”

About the Author

Addison Fox can’t remember a time when words weren’t a part of her life. An avid reader, her love of the written word started at the tender age of 1 with “The Owl and the Pussycat” by Edward Lear (a poem she could recite by heart to any family member who would listen).

Shortly after college, Addison decided to try her hand at writing her own novel and it only took about eight pages until she was hooked. Several manuscripts followed and in 2008 she sold her first book. She enjoys writing across romance sub-genres, from contemporary to paranormal to romantic suspense.

Addison lives in Dallas. You can find her at her home on the web at www.addisonfox.com or on Facebook (facebook.com/addisonfoxauthor) and Twitter (@addisonfox).