“Is it?” His cheekbones had reddened and anger sparked in his eyes. How many people had he told this story to? She knew his mother had died in a car accident in Italy, but nothing more than that. “You can judge for yourself. She strapped the baby in her seat and took off. The car she took wasn’t safe. It had been recalled by the factory for brake problems but she didn’t know about that, or so Ronan recently told me. She went off a cliff and took the baby with her. They never found her body.”
“Oh, God.” She’d read the account, but not recalled as passionately by someone involved in the terrible story. “I’m so sorry. Yes, to take a baby because she knew it would hurt people, that makes her a bitch.”
“Glad you see it my way. There’s more, Scarlett.” He bit his lip. “Things hardly anyone knows yet, but I will tell you, I promise.” He glanced out of the window at the nose-to-tail traffic. “Just not here.”
Why was that? Was he afraid he’d lose it? Before he’d looked away, she’d caught an expression of agony in his eyes. She wouldn’t press him, not yet.
“So that’s why you don’t like your family?”
“Not just that. My father married four more times. This last marriage has stuck, but the three in between? Money-grabbing bitches, all three. One was a dancer, one was from an old New York family. Slumming it, she called it when she married my father. Then she tried to slum it with me. I was sixteen, and unfortunately for her, I said no. Even then I could spot a woman out for the main chance. I barely knew number four.”
He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. After that unfortunate scene, he’d made himself scarce. “What about the fifth?”
“He says he loves her. She doesn’t answer him back, and she’s given him children, which in his book counts as love. But he never showed any of that to me. After Evangeline left him, he gave me to the servants.” He closed his eyes. His whole body was tense.
“Who knows about this?” She hadn’t seen anything like this on the sites she’d checked.
“We’ve kept the details from the media.” The clipped words were pushed out in pain.
She reached out to touch him, to bring him some kind of comfort, but he grabbed her hand before it got to him. He glared at her, eyes fierce. “So don’t, whatever you do, make the mistake of thinking you’re in love with me. I’m not made for love. I never learned it and I don’t want to. What we have is fine. Great sex, friendship, and mutual interest. Got that?”
Her heart broke at his words. He was damaged, but he wasn’t impossibly broken, as he obviously thought. “You said you would love our child, if we have one.” In any case, she’d have love for them both.
“I did. But in a practical way. My kid will be secure. He or she will have two parents, and a great upbringing. I know I’m not made for love, so don’t do it. Don’t fall into the trap.”
“Love can be wonderful.” Although her mother had died years ago, she still remembered her with love. “Families are the bedrock of security and strength.” She’d been lucky enough to reconnect with her father, and discover the love they still shared.
“I wouldn’t know.” His expression was tight and unreadable. He was tucking himself away, going so far and no further. And it infuriated her.
“I want the truth,” she said. “I signed your contract. I’m your employee now and bound by all the confidentiality agreements you asked for, and I’m going to sign the prenup you want.”
She reached out and took his hand. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t respond either. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
He gave a harsh, mirthless laugh. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. And you are not my employee. What you are is my fiancée and future wife.”
“Would you have any family feeling? To make a family with our baby?”
An ominous silence fell, but it didn’t last long. “Family feeling?” He spoke quietly, but menace lurked in the back of his tones. Scarlett faced him boldly, refusing to back off. “How can you ask me about that? Hell, I have another brother I didn’t know about until a few months back!”
“What?” Stunned, she sat back, her mouth open in shock.
He stared at her, his mouth slightly open, stunned shock in his gaze. His eyes were very, very blue. “Oh, hell,” he said eventually, and ran his hand through his hair, disordering the expensive cut. “I didn’t want to tell you here, but you’d better have the rest of the story. Before she came to New York, my mother was Tracy Davis, a kid from Texas who lived in a run-down trailer with her abusive father. She married young, and I’m talking young. Then she had a baby, dumped the boy on his father and ran away to New York. The baby was put up for adoption.”
“Oh, God.”
“I have a brother three years older than I am. At least. But I don’t know where he is, or even if he’s still alive. I don’t know if he’s rich or living on the streets, happy or not.” He covered his eyes with his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And God knows why I’m telling you this because nothing you’ve signed so far binds you to keep my confidences. I meant to tell you after you’d signed the prenup, but what the hell? I don’t know why I’m telling you now. It’s a secret, a deadly secret. If the media digs it up, they’ll skin us alive. Evangeline made headlines back in the day, and she could make them all over again.” He dropped his hand. “She died last year in London.”
“Last year? I thought you said she died years ago?” Scarlett listened in horror.
He grimaced. “She didn’t die in the car accident. She got away with her lover, an Irishman. Last year, she died in London, poor and alone and calling herself Julie O’Connor.”
Scarlett found her voice. “Do they know it was her for sure?”
Wearily, he nodded. “They found papers in her flat that showed her original name, and her model name. Diaries, too, dozens of them, some nearly indecipherable. She never threw anything away. The authorities contacted me to see if I knew anything about this woman. Ronan wasn’t available at the time, so I donated DNA and they identified her from that. Her flat was full of papers, scrapbooks, some of it useless. Once the identification was made I applied to the court for possession of her belongings, and since nobody else cared, I got them. My people are working on them now. Now you know too.”
“How many people have you told?”
“Ronan, his wife Georgia, his father, my researchers, and now you. We know she had a lover, the shadowy O’Connor, and she went to Ireland with him. How she ended up in London we’re not sure.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
He jerked a nod. “Partly. I did want to view the London Noir, but yes, I came here to find out all I could as discreetly as possible.”
Someone important was missing from that story. “What about your father?”
“No. If I told him, he wouldn’t care, and he’d find a way to use it. When Evangeline left he cut everything to do with her from his life. Including me,” he concluded with no emotion she could see.
So, Dustin had hidden his son away, ignored him, and got on with life. If his other wives had given him children before this last one, Scarlett had no doubt he’d have cut his son completely, disowned and disinherited him.
But she was equally certain Ethan would have found a life for himself, built his career up if he wanted to. Look what he was doing with her hotel, and the others he’d bought.
He glanced out of the car window again and tsked. At this time of day traffic was at a standstill. Much of Oxford Street was for buses and taxis only, but that only meant that other traffic jammed the side streets.
Ahead of them, a traffic light turned green and the cars ahead began to move. Scarlett’s attention snapped back when the car door opened. “I’ll see you at the Noir,” he said. “I need some air.” He slammed the door behind him and waved to the driver to continue.
“Running away,” she muttered.
But okay, she’d give him his space. He was obviously overcome. She’d have loved him to turn to her, so
she could help him cope with his pain, but she couldn’t demand that of him. He’d told her his deepest secrets, and trusted her to keep them. Of course she would, but she hadn’t signed anything. That meant he trusted her for herself, not for any other reason.
She couldn’t help feeling smug about that.
Twenty minutes later, she arrived at the great hotel, the limo pulling right up to the front steps. A uniformed porter stepped up to open the door, and she got out, feeling decidedly shabby and overwhelmed by the sight of the frontage, white and glass, rearing up to glare at the people below.
Ethan was waiting for her in the lobby. He sat in an armchair, restlessly leafing through a magazine. Scarlett stared around in awe at the size, the black-and-white marble staircase, and the sheer opulence of the place.
When Ethan glanced up and saw her he got to his feet, tossing his magazine aside.
A lot of other people got to their feet, too, and they lifted their phones. Flashes sparkled, tracking his progress as he crossed the white marble floor to greet her. He bent to kiss her lips. Not a lingering, passionate caress, but a greeting. He took her hand.
The flashes doubled, making her blink. Nobody spoke to them until they passed a couple standing near the lifts. The man said, “Peter Strait, the Daily Courier. Is this your new girlfriend, Ethan?”
How dare they ask that? She glared at the man, while Ethan smiled pleasantly. “A little more than that, Peter. This is my fiancée.”
“What’s her name?” Strait turned to confront her while his companion stepped aside, deliberately blocking their way.
“You’ll have to find out for yourself,” Ethan said before Scarlett could answer. She’d have given her name without thinking.
“Have you known her long?” Strait asked, while the woman snapped away. Not with a phone, but a real camera.
“For a while.”
A flash blinded her and she winced. Ethan glanced at her and tugged her hand, drawing her away. He circumvented the photographer and took her to the bank of lifts. A member of staff had called one for them, and stood waiting. Ethan nodded his thanks and led her inside.
The lift was of brushed steel, with a gold cage masking it, the design geometric. At the back was a large mirror. Scarlett stared at herself. She’d thought she was quite well turned out this morning, but strands were escaping from her ponytail and her lipstick had worn off. She groaned.
“What is it?”
“They’ll see me like this. All those pictures will show you with a bag lady. You’re immaculate.”
She gazed up at him. Not a dark hair was out of place, his tie was beautifully knotted and precisely in place. Half an inch of pearl-gray cuff showed below the sleeves of his black suit jacket. He grinned.
“You look gorgeous. You’re about as far from a bag lady as I am.” Gently, he bent to kiss her lips. “They’ll see a beautiful, elegant woman.” He smiled. “It’s just the attention the press pays to you, it makes you think you’re a complete mess. But you’re not. You’ll get used to it, I promise.”
She took another cautious glance in the mirror. Maybe she didn’t look too bad at that. She just felt wrecked inside.
The lift halted at the top floor, and he led her out, tapping a card against the sensor. Of course he was staying in a penthouse. Inside, signs of occupation and his elusive scent infused the air.
Scarlett tried not to be impressed and failed. The huge living area led to a set of stairs at the end. Large windows opened out into a private terrace and a magnificent view over Hyde Park.
“They asked really intrusive questions down there. And what gave everyone the right to take your photo?”
“There’s always a photographer in the lobby, and at least one journalist. We cater for celebrities here. Guests have the option to go in through a private entrance, of course, but I wanted them to see you.” He crossed the room to a small kitchenette. “Drink?”
“Er, I can’t.” She patted her stomach. “Possible pregnancy, remember?” She would do nothing, absolutely nothing to endanger this baby. Even that slim possibility was worth nurturing.
“That reminds me. That’s our next step.” As he pulled out his phone, he motioned across the room to where a bar stood. “Not that kind of drink, although you look as if you could use one. The other kind. Tea, coffee, juice.”
“Juice,” she said promptly. He was right, she needed something.
He brought over two tall glasses of orange juice, ice tinkling on the sides. She accepted it with a word of thanks and took a long sip.
He called someone and nodded to her as he cut the call. “My PA will call up with an appointment. We’re getting this pregnancy problem sorted out.”
Regret filled her, because she wanted to keep that seed inside her. She couldn’t be pregnant, surely, but she had wanted the feeling, the expectation, to last a little longer. But, in all honesty, she couldn’t do that to him. So she’d let a doctor take a look.
“About downstairs,” he said. “I wanted you to see what you’re going to face,” he said. “It occurred to me that you hadn’t come across that kind of attention before. When you marry me, you can either play the game where you see a lot of kitchens and back doors, or you choose to face what’s coming. Normally, I can go about my business undisturbed, but in the places where they know me, that behavior is common.”
He sat next to her and stretched his arm over the back of the beige leather sofa. “I can assign you people who will keep unwanted attention away, or you can just have one bodyguard.”
“Why do I need anybody at all?” she demanded, horrified at the thought of having somebody following her around all day.
“Because you will be my wife,” he explained carefully. “And you could be carrying my child. Some people will see nothing but dollar signs when they look at you.”
She whipped her head around to stare at him. “What? Why?” Although she knew. But the reality came as a shock and she didn’t want to believe it.
“You know why,” he said. “They’ve seen you once. If you want to back out, we can do this another way.”
She’d watched the privileged step out of their limos and along the red carpet, but she’d never fully taken in the implications before. She wouldn’t be able to go shopping alone, or for that matter, sit in the back room of her hotel doing the accounts without someone else to ensure she was safe.
That was a horrible thought. But as his wife media attention would become part of her life. That was why she needed a bodyguard.
“What happens now?”
“You mean about the scene downstairs? Our pictures, separate and apart will appear in the papers, and online. People will speculate about you, and some will try to find out who you are. Some might actually manage it. It’s how you want to handle it that matters.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nobody knows that you’re pregnant.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m pregnant, come to that.”
“That’s true. We’ll find out soon. But I want you to remain with me until I’ve persuaded the board to agree to the renovations. My father was foolish enough to say it in the last board meeting. He won’t back down now.”
“Do we have to be married?” She felt as if she was being pulled along in the wake of a tidal wave, completely out of control. At least if she delayed the marriage for a while she might have a chance to catch up.
His gaze sharpened. “I want to marry you right away. But if you find you can’t take the lifestyle, I want at least a year.”
“That’s so cold.”
“That’s what I am. Cold.”
She begged to differ. He hadn’t been one bit cold when he’d put out the fire at the Woodward, and cold wasn’t the word that came to mind when she recalled their steamy sessions in bed. But at least she had a choice.
She sipped her drink and let the cool liquid flow down her throat. She made her decision. “Okay. But I want to wait to find out if I’m pregnant. I don�
�t want to rush off and consult a doctor.”
“Why?”
She didn’t want to tell him. He’d laugh. But Scarlett wanted the dream. Deep inside her soul she yearned to be a mother, but over the years she’d become convinced not all her dreams would come true. If she delayed finding out, she could hug the dream close, believe for a few short weeks.
“I don’t like being mauled by medical staff,” she said. “If you need me with you for a while, there’s no hurry to find out, is there?”
He narrowed his eyes. “We need to find out. You must know that. I’ll be with you all the way, I promise.”
She sighed, giving in. It would have to be a short dream, that was all. He was right, and it wasn’t fair to make him wait. “Okay, a doctor it is.”
But if she gave into that, she wanted something in return. “I want to learn from you. About the hotel business. I won’t get a better chance than this.”
“All right.” He got up, picked up their empty glasses and took them to the kitchen area.
She had a chance to learn. If she only stayed a short time with him, she’d learn masses about the hotel industry. Better than a university course. She’d be with the head of a huge hotel group, learning at his side.
More important to her was the thought that she would be with him. She shouldn’t be thinking that way, but she couldn’t help it. He made her helpless, not the media, or his wealth, or the speed of events. It was him.
His loved ones had hurt him terribly. He’d been ignored, hated, opposed, and treated as either disposable, or for what he could do for people, not for himself.
They had a chance. If she could prove to him he was a person worth knowing, worth having, he might have more faith in himself. That weekend had meant as much to him as it had to her, for different reasons. She’d accepted a man, not what he brought with him. She’d continue to do that, to hold firm and make sure he knew it.
Chapter Nine
Relief poured through Ethan. If he wasn’t so controlled he’d have sagged forward. She’d taken the challenge. He’d take care of her, make sure she was safe. And their child. He was sure she was pregnant. He felt it, the certainty rock-solid. Although he’d never considered becoming a father before, now he was eager to see it through. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his parents had made. Indeed, how could he? It took real skill to make that many mistakes in one life. He might not be able to love the baby, but he’d care for it, and give it everything he could. Affection and friendship and the conviction that the baby was the most important part of his life.
Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2) Page 10