Because of Them: Heartfelt Romance

by Melissa Macomb

  I need to figure out what to do when we get back to New York. I really can't see Bram just letting me walk away with the kids. He's made his intentions clear, hasn't he? He's going to fight me for sole custody of the twins. At least I think he is. Ever since we left the lawyer's office, he talks more and more about me living in New York. No matter how many times I tell him that's impossible, he keeps trying to steer my thinking in that direction. He can try, but I don't belong in New York. Especially not his version of the city, with paparazzi and private jets and intimate parties with billionaire heiresses. Honestly, I can't see Bram living in Oklahoma City, either.

  And there it all goes, around and around in my head like a carousel. I turn over and try in vain to think of something else. But Bram's hands on my breasts while we were kissing on the deck felt so good. He’s all I can think about. I punch my pillow into what I hope is a sleep-inducing shape and try again.

  I must have finally slept because I dreamed of Bram's kisses and hands all over me. Waking up to the reality that he and I are oil and water has made me grumpy.

  The twins are excited about the trip and impressed that Uncle Bram has his own plane. My head is pounding from another night without enough sleep, so I let Mrs. MacThomas take the lead with them. Bram is keeping to himself, lost in phone conversations with someone named Andrew most of the time. I overheard him once telling this Andrew to send flowers to someone named Kat. He wanted the card to say he's sorry he couldn't be there Friday, but he hopes they can reschedule. Seeing someone in New York didn’t stop him from kissing me on the deck. I’m right not to trust him. I don’t have time for another mistake.

  There's some satisfaction in being right, but I'm a little surprised that finding out for sure I really can't trust him makes me sad. And angry. The more I think about it, the grumpier I get. I don't talk all the way to the airport. Once there, we’re treated like royalty and a car on the tarmac takes us to a private hangar where a giant plane is being prepared.

  Arriving at the airport, I admit I’m impressed. When he said he had a private plane, I didn't realize he had a freaking flying palace.

  The jet must be jumbo. I don't know anything about planes, but I know this one is huge. It must've cost a small fortune to buy, and oh my, the carbon footprint it must leave. I shake my head in disgust, even as I admire it. I really should stand on my principles and insist we take a commercial flight back. At least that plane won't be using extra gas for us, because it's already going anyway. But I don't say a word. I’m too tired for standing on principles. There's a master suite on the plane, and Bram puts my suitcases in there, along with those of the twins. He gives the other bedroom cabin to the nanny.

  "But where will you sleep, Uncle Bram?" Leave it to little Abbie to be worried about everyone's comfort.

  "I'll be just fine on this couch right here, sweetheart."

  I love how his voice softens when he speaks to one of the children. Did I really just use the word love? Get a grip, Contessa.

  Mrs. MacThomas is making herself at home in the little kitchen area and I can already smell tea brewing. The twins are begging to be allowed to watch the television, and since there's not much else to do on a plane, I give in easily. I also don't argue when one of the two cabin crew members ask if I'd like a coffee. I don't mind a nice cup of tea on occasion, but like most Americans, my body is fueled by a strong cup of hot coffee.

  I'm not at all surprised to discover that the plane is equipped with an office, and that Bram goes straight there and remains for most of the remainder of the trip. It's a surprisingly pleasant flight. The kids watch an animated movie featuring a friendly green ogre of some sort for a while, then they settle at a table with their crayons and paper they found in Bram's office. I love being able to get up and stretch my legs whenever I want, without annoying other passengers or being told to sit down by the cabin crew. What a difference money makes. No wonder Bram thinks he can buy his way out of or into anything.

  Mid-afternoon I settle the twins in their bedroom for a nap. The excitement of the day is making them fuss with each other. Mrs. MacThomas suggested some quiet time would be good for them, and I completely agree. I know it would be good for me. After listening with wide eyes to a Cherokee story my mom told me and Roman when we were babies, they drift off to sleep.

  They are so precious. Roman and Mary did good. I risk stroking their silky black hair while I stare down at them with a heart full of love. Then the skin on the back of my neck prickles and I look up to see Bram standing in the doorway. This is the first time I've been alone with him since we almost made love last night. Just thinking about it makes my skin tingle. It sure doesn’t help that Bram is looking at me like he wants to eat me for lunch. And I think I'd probably let him.

  He steps into the room and moves closer to where I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. He's so close I can smell him. It's a mixture of a cologne I don't recognize and his natural male scent. I'm so aroused by his presence that I can feel myself getting wet. I stand up next to him and bend my head back, trying to look into his eyes. My heart is beating fast, and I can't breathe properly with him standing so close. There’s something about this man. He's so wrong for me, but I want him.

  God, do I want him.

  11

  Bram

  My head is killing me. Last night I couldn't sleep worth a damn. When I tried, the memory of Tessa's sweet body pressed against mine drove all thoughts of sleep away. Remembering when she kissed her way down my throat nearly did me in. Today isn't any better. Every time I get close enough to smell her honeysuckle scent, I have to consciously stop myself from reaching out to draw her close. I came into my office because I really do need to work, but how the hell am I supposed to do that knowing she's out there smelling so good and able to kiss like that? So, like a lovesick puppy I leave the safety of my office and go to find Tessa.

  Now I'm here, standing in what’s usually my bedroom, looking at this woman that I can't get out of my mind, sitting on my bed. My heart’s thumping loudly in my ears and my body is reacting to the sight of her lips parting. Her tongue, that same tongue that was intertwined with mine just last night, slides out slowly to lick her lips. It's all I can do to resist groaning my frustration at not being able to take her right here and now.

  I've never considered it sexy to look into a woman's eyes. This woman, though, gets to me in a way that no other has ever done. I feel like I'm drowning in those dark brown eyes. Staring down at her feels as intimate as a kiss. I find I can't pull my eyes away from hers. When she looks away first, I want to reach down and turn her back to face me, but I don't. I can't let myself get sucked into whatever weird spell she's putting on me. I need to get a grip and treat her the way I treat a business rival. No matter how sexy the woman, if I have to do business with her, she's off-limits. It's dangerous to mix business with pleasure. And right now, Tessa is business. But I’m starting to realize, she is also pure pleasure.

  "Do you want me for something?"

  Since my mind is on sex, her question conjures up all kinds of delicious scenarios. It takes me a second to get my mind out of the gutter. I step back to the doorway, putting some distance between us. "No, no, I just wanted to... check on the kids."

  "Well, as you can see, they're fine."

  "Yes. Okay, thanks." Real smooth, Bram.

  Back in my office, I make a determined effort to get something tangible accomplished. In the rush to get to Scotland last week I'd forgotten about the dinner party at Katrina's. For the millionth time, I thank my lucky stars I hired Andrew as my assistant. When I finally remembered and called him, he had already notified Kat of the death in my family, and I followed that up with a large bouquet of flowers and an apology. Now I just have to hope she doesn't take the flowers as a marriage proposal.

  The meeting with Thompson Davis is too important to risk turning Kat against me, though, so I have to run the risk of her reading more into it. I'm determined to expand BGC Industries into the European market
. I have enough money to do it myself, but if I can get Davis to invest, I'll not only have his money, but his contacts and international clout, as well. I suppose I should feel bad for using Kat this way, but I don't. I know damn well she's aware of it, and she's using Davis to spend more time with me.

  Right now, the only woman I want to spend time with is the one woman I have to keep at a distance. How I'm supposed to do that and co-parent two children, I don't have a clue. How the hell I'm supposed to convince her to move to New York City is something else I don't have a clue about. But I made a promise to Mary, so I'd better figure it out. I think I can at least convince her to stay in New York for a few days after we land. The kids will need some time to get over any jet lag, and I can plead business commitments that’ll keep me from immediately accompanying them to Oklahoma. Of course, I have no intention of ever stepping foot in that particular 'flyover state' but she doesn't need to know that. I just need to buy myself some time to talk to our family attorney and figure out how to get sole custody of my niece and nephew. Once I've done that, if she wants to be near them, she'll have no choice but to move to New York.

  With that end in mind, I send an email to Caleb Berners, the senior partner of the firm that’s taken care of the Carter family's legal matters for over fifty years. I’d already given him a heads up from Scotland, but I lay out the full situation in writing to him now so he can begin whatever preparations are necessary. The rest of the flight I'll spend making sure there aren't any holes in the proposal I'll present to Davis when I see him at Katrina's. Andrew messaged me that she rearranged the dinner party for Friday night. I have to be there, and my proposal can't have any mistakes. This may be my only shot.

  Somehow, though, my mind keeps wandering back to Tessa, and her long legs wrapped around my waist while her lips pull me in closer. Damn.

  12

  Tessa

  It's been nearly a week since we landed at JFK. I'm still not completely sure how I've ended up staying in New York with Bram, Mrs. MacThomas, and the twins. At first, we were all jet-lagged, even with having been able to sleep on the plane. Well, everyone except Bram was. It doesn't seem to affect him at all, and he went straight back to work pretty much immediately after making sure we were settled into his huge apartment in the iconic Dakota Apartments. It made sense at the time to not drag the children away on another journey, and Bram argued that he had some business to settle before he took off again.

  He keeps insisting he'll come with us to Oklahoma if I'll just give him some time to get things in order. I keep telling him I can take the kids back on a commercial flight, but he says we might as well all go back together. I'll give him a few more days, then I'm going to have to just get back however I can. I'm okay for the time off work. Between the fact that I never take time off unless I have to and the Family Leave Act, I'm covered. I just have to make sure we have the custody hearing in Oklahoma since the children are members of the Cherokee Nation, just as I am. There's no way the Nation will place the children with Bram, a white man, over another member of the tribe.

  A few years ago, there was a big court case involving a young Cherokee child who'd been fostered outside the Nation with a family who severely mistreated her. As a nurse on her case, I first noticed the abuse and reported it to the authorities. Testifying in her trial had been awful, but the lawyer representing her had really impressed me with not only his knowledge and presence but also with his empathy and understanding of the little girl and her situation. It was this lawyer, Jace Beavers, that I emailed while we were still in Scotland about representing me in obtaining custody of Abbie and Archie. I had expected to be back in Oklahoma City by now to make an appointment with him. Before I have the chance to forget, I send him an email requesting a telephone appointment.

  I can't lie, though. Spending a few days in New York has been fun. It's the first time I've ever been here. Yesterday I took the kids to Central Park and the Natural History Museum. Predictably, Archie was obsessed with the dinosaur bones and getting him to look at anything else had been hard work. Abbie seemed to enjoy everything, although she did mention a few times that she wished Uncle Bram was with us. I, for one, am glad he's not. I can't think straight when I'm around him. The first day I saw him dressed in a suit for a business meeting with his long brown hair tied up in a messy 'man bun' my knees literally went weak. I love his long hair and the careless beard he allowed to grow while we were in Scotland but seeing him clean-shaven and business-like is freaking sexy.

  I'm alone in the apartment today. Mrs. MacThomas is across the street with the children. She was horrified this morning to learn that the kids have no idea who The Beatles are and have never heard of John Lennon. I reminded her they’re only five, but she wasn't swayed in her determination to fill in the gap in their musical education. So, they left a few minutes ago to go to the John Lennon Memorial in Central Park, Strawberry Field. Listening to them trying to sing along to Yellow Submarine as they head out goes down as one of my favorite new memories.

  Thinking back to the children, I feel a little guilty when I think about how they'll be separated from their Uncle Bram once I get them back to Oklahoma City. He's made sure to make time for them every day, even with all the time he spends at work. In the early evenings before dinner, he plays with them in the family room. I give them their space, to give them a chance to have quality time without me hovering. They get plenty of time with me during the day. The sound of his laughter, deep and rumbling, mixed in with the children's squeals melts my heart and stirs feelings towards him that I don't want to have. But I can't help myself. I know the kids aren't the only ones who'll miss Bram when we're gone.

  I can't allow myself to let my guard down. Men like him will only take advantage. He'll use my feelings for him to get what he wants and then he'll move on. I can’t afford to fall in love with him.

  How ridiculous would that be? Contessa Stephenson, nurse from Oklahoma City, falling in love with a man recently labeled New York City's 'Most Eligible Bachelor'. The very idea is laughable, as is the idea that he would love me back. He clearly likes being a bachelor and is determined to stay that way. I don't need my heart broken again, thank you very much. I'm still not over the last one. Or am I? It strikes me now that I've not spent any time thinking about Mitch since the flight to Scotland. I've ignored his calls and deleted his voicemails and texts. Come to think of it, he's not tried to make any contact at all for a few days. I guess it was easy for him to move on, and honestly, I’m not bothered by the thought. Or maybe I wasn’t really in love with Mitch to begin with. I suspect that to be the truth. I wanted to be in love, and Mitch was there and ticked all the boxes for what I wanted in a lover and mate. Except he never made me feel as excited and breathless as I already feel around Bram Carter. This is not good. Getting my feelings tangled up with Bram will only bring me more heartache, and it will complicate the situation with the twins.

  I'm pacing around the empty apartment now. My thoughts racing all over the place. I’m starting to wonder if trying to make me fall in love with him is part of his plan to get me to stay here. Keeping us all here in his luxury apartment, playing house and luring me into a feeling of safety and security. Making it feel like we're a family. Then bam, he swoops in with the best lawyers money can buy, and before I know what hit me, he's got the kids and I'm back in Oklahoma, wondering where it all went wrong.

  My thoughts overwhelm me, and I have to sit down. The nearest piece of furniture is a large, overstuffed chaise in the large entryway to the apartment. I lean back and close my eyes, completely disgusted with how easy I've made it for him. Oh yes, Bram, I'll fly home in your private jet. Oh sure, Bram, I'll stay a few days in your home until you're ready. By all means, Bram, whatever you want. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Just then, the heavy old door to the apartment swings open and the jackass himself walks in.

  13

  Bram

  I'm exhausted and I can’t remember the last time I got a decent night'
s sleep. Thoughts of Tessa torture me around the clock. Sure, I think about that night we almost had sex on the deck in Scotland, but with her living here in my apartment, I find myself also obsessed with the oddest things. Like the little freckle she has right at the base of her throat. Her laugh. The way she smiles the second she sees someone, even a stranger on the street. That irresistible honeysuckle fragrance when she walks past. The hot pink polish on her toes and the blush that creeps up from her chest when she catches me looking at them. I don't know how I'm going to keep resisting the temptation to get closer to Tessa. Everything about her pulls me towards her, like a heat-seeking missile. Every day when I get home, I head straight for wherever she is, and if I'm at work, my brain keeps conjuring her image and I get nothing done all day.

  Speaking of not getting anything done today, Kat Rutherford paid me a surprise visit at the office and insisted I take her to lunch. I'm trying my best to stay on her good side without giving her any encouragement on the relationship front, but Kat is hard work. Lunch with her was as much fun as a stroll through a minefield. Nothing with Katrina is easy. Even lunch had to be at the Rainbow Room, where she knew the maximum number of people in her set would see us together. And she was dressed to slay, no doubt about it. But I wasn't even tempted. I took one look at her and wondered what the hell I'd seen in her in the first place. Her boobs are fake and just a little too much, and I doubt very seriously that face is the one she was born with. Her hair is platinum blond, but the drapes and curtains don't match, or whatever that saying is. Not like Tessa. She's naturally beautiful, and her body is perfectly proportioned. Her breasts are real, I can attest to that. And there I go again. Thinking about Tessa. I can't help myself, though, comparing her easy-going, natural self to Kat’s high-maintenance phoniness. I need to stay focused. The dinner party with Thompson Davis is still on for Friday, and that's the important thing.