Son of Scandal

by Dani Wade

  “How would he find out?” Ivy asked.

  Willow snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Who knows? Then again, you don’t really know Paxton very well outside of work, do you?”

  Ivy was ashamed to admit that she didn’t, although she had felt like she did. Day in and day out in each other’s company had given her a false sense of familiarity. But she’d kept it that way on purpose. While she’d fantasized about more, she’d never planned on getting closer to Paxton than watching him from across his desk. For this very reason. She’d needed a good paying job...and he was never supposed to know who she really was.

  “No, I don’t,” she mumbled. “I definitely can’t tell him anything until I know more about him and his family.”

  “Then focus on that,” Jasmine said. “Besides, connecting with him on a deeper level will be very valuable if his family disapproves later on.”

  Ivy really didn’t want to think about that. Paxton’s family had never been very friendly when she’d seen them in the office. They pretty much pretended she wasn’t there unless they needed something. It didn’t take a genius to realize that her past wouldn’t be the only problem with that crew. Her present circumstances would throw up just as strong of a roadblock.

  Willow added as they stood to go downstairs, “That will give me time to do my thing. I’ll see if I can find any more connections as we work on cleaning out the attic, too.”

  That would be good. The attic at Sabatini House had yielded the first answer the girls had looked for about their past. The sisters grinned at one another. Ivy’s stomach settled once more. Though she worked really hard to be independent, her family was the best support a woman could ever ask for.

  As she made her way downstairs with her sisters, she felt calm for the first time since she’d known Paxton was coming to stay with her.

  “See,” Willow went on. “I think this is a very solid contingency plan.”

  Paxton’s voice shot at them from the doorway at the other end of the hall. “And why would you need one of those?”

  * * *

  Paxton hadn’t been expecting a landing party when he’d shown up at the Harden place to take care of Ivy. The sea of people now crowded into the front parlor would have been intimidating for anyone not used to addressing groups like he was... In truth, he found himself energized by the challenge.

  He recognized Ivy’s sisters from the pictures that used to be on her desk at work, along with the sweet little toddler with dark curly hair in Jasmine’s arms. Ivy’s niece, Rosie.

  The sole man in the group he recognized for a completely different reason. His presence was a bit of a shock. Ivy had never mentioned Royce Brazier to him. He’d heard through the grapevine when he’d returned home that Royce had recently become engaged to his event planner, but he’d had no reason to look into the details.

  He’d only vaguely remembered Ivy’s sister was an event planner. She had never been very forthcoming about her family at work.

  As if drawn to the only other male in a sea of femininity, Paxton held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Royce.”

  “Long time, no see,” Royce agreed.

  His handshake was firm—firmer than usual. Though it had been almost a year since he’d interacted with him, Paxton didn’t remember Royce as the type to pull macho power plays. But the look that accompanied the move assured Paxton that Royce was the person in charge here.

  “All right,” he said as he released Paxton’s hand. “Let’s give the man some room to breathe.”

  Auntie waved her arms around in a shooing motion to disperse the crowd from the front room. Suddenly the rapt audience began fiddling with luggage and discussing itineraries. The noise faded as they finished their last-minute preparations.

  Only then did Paxton realize that Ivy wasn’t there. Had she not been in the room all along? Had she snuck out while the rest of the family was piling in?

  Nobody mentioned her absence as they rushed into last-minute preparations for their trip. In the sea of scurrying women, Paxton and Royce stood still.

  As he continued to watch the strangely coordinated movements, a tingle of panic rose inside Paxton. Where was Ivy? Was something wrong?

  Oblivious to the other man now, Paxton took a step toward the doorway, determined to find out where she’d gone. Only to have Royce move directly into his path.

  Paxton took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, not to let the other man see his hackles rise at the move.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “No,” Royce said, though his deliberate stance belied the casual denial. Arms crossed over his chest. Legs braced. Definitely in charge. “Not at all.”

  Paxton raised a brow in inquiry, waiting to see where Royce wanted this conversation to go. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “I just thought it would be a good idea to make sure we’re all on the same page before most of Ivy’s family travels across the country, leaving her alone with a man none of us know very well.”

  The suspicion in his voice was blatant. Not that Royce was attempting to hide it.

  “Royce, that’s not really necessary.” Paxton reminded himself he would probably issue his own warnings over his sisters and pushed down the rising need to fight for the alpha-male position. “You’ve met me before. You’re aware of my reputation. Do you really think I’d hurt her?”

  “This isn’t professional—it’s personal. And each of these women has come to mean a lot to me.” Royce’s gaze didn’t waver from his for a minute. “I think every woman deserves someone to look out for her, to back her up.”

  “I agree.”

  Royce continued to study him for a moment longer than was comfortable. “I see you do. Just don’t forget that Ivy’s not alone in this. She might not like the idea, but we are here for her nonetheless.”

  Regardless of that last cryptic sentence, Paxton totally got that Ivy now had the backing of not just any man, but one of the most powerful men in Savannah. As much as Paxton liked to think of his family as loving, they were also business people, who more often than not made decisions based on logic and profitability, rather than emotions.

  It was a reputation they’d carefully cultivated; it was also the truth. Looking at it in that light, Paxton saw clearly Royce’s need to protect Ivy.

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do,” Royce said, for the first time breaking into a grin. “But you will.” He patted Paxton’s shoulder as he urged him toward the hall. “Just remember—I’ve been there. The learning curve is steep, but oh so worth it.”

  Huh?

  As the two men headed into the hall that ran the length of the house, Paxton thought back to the swirling rumors he’d paid little attention to at the family dinner when his sisters had tried to catch him up on all he’d missed while he was out of town. The only reason he’d listened was because he never knew when a bit of gossip could lead to a business breakthrough.

  Had the stone-cold businessman finally grown a heart? From what Paxton could read, he had—at least for the Harden sisters.

  But Paxton had always had a heart, hadn’t he? Even when he chose to work strictly based on logic instead.

  “Where did Ivy go?” he asked as they moved into the long hallway that ran the length of the house.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s back here,” Royce said as he led the way to the kitchen.

  Sure enough, Ivy sat at the table, surrounded by women who chatted and filled the room with last-minute admonishments to take care of herself.

  Auntie beamed as they walked inside. “She ate some broth.”

  “Now, if I can keep it down,” Ivy said in a snarky tone that Paxton wasn’t used to hearing from her.

  But she seemed to shake it off as she stood up for hugs all around and an extra kiss for Rosie. “Y’all have a good time,” she
said.

  Though her expression was cheerful, Paxton suspected it was forced for their benefit. If he hadn’t been watching her instead of the mass exodus going on around them, he would have missed the momentary droop, the dropping of her guard that allowed him to briefly glimpse the exhaustion underneath the facade. Luckily her family didn’t seem to see it.

  He knew in that moment how very important it was to her that her family see her as strong. Capable. Had this ordeal been difficult for her? Forced her to concede a weakness she would rather have kept hidden? Required her to lean on them?

  Her discomfort about being dependent probably extended to him, too, considering the speed with which her mask reappeared. Almost before he could even blink, he faced a sphinx instead of the warm, professional woman he was more familiar with.

  He was even less prepared when she turned immediately back down the hall after closing the door behind her family. “I’m going to lie down now,” she said.

  Paxton trailed after her as she made her way slowly up the stairs. To his amusement, that seemed to make her pick up her pace.

  “Is there anything I can get you?” he asked, while doing his level best to ignore the firm curve beneath the soft pants she wore.

  She didn’t pause before opening a door about halfway down the hall. Paxton had a brief glimpse of silk and lace and a mixture of pastel and vibrant colors. No halfway for Ivy. He felt like it was a momentary glance of the woman behind the professional facade.

  Very quickly she turned back to him, pulling the door closed until he could only see her face. “I’ll catch you later,” she said, then shut the door almost on his nose.

  So much for reconnaissance.

  Five

  Ivy jumped at the sharp knock on her bedroom door.

  “Dinner.”

  Paxton’s tone brooked no argument. After Ivy had refused lunch, it wasn’t surprising. She’d been locked in her room all day—napping, reading and completely ignoring Paxton. Even if she did pause at every noise, her throat tightening as she wondered if he would try her door.

  Guess he reached his limit.

  So had she. Though worried it would make her nauseous, she knew she needed to eat.

  Just walking into the kitchen made her mouth water. She couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but the heavenly smell seemed to make her feel warm and cozy all by itself. Paxton looked up from the pot on the stove.

  “Hungry?”

  Her stomach growled as if it knew she wouldn’t answer honestly if left to her own devices.

  Paxton gave her a half grin that made her heart feel funny. “I’d say that’s a yes,” he said.

  Anxious for something to distract her from his golden good looks, Ivy moved toward the cabinets to get plates. Then she noticed bowls already sitting on the counter. “Soup?” she asked, awkwardness stiffening her movements.

  He nodded. “Have a seat.”

  “I can do—”

  He didn’t argue, but simply stepped into her path. “I said, sit.”

  She wanted to be angry, but he wasn’t being rude. Just firm. Her treacherous body complied, melting into the nearest chair.

  His busyness gave her the chance to admire his agile movements as he dished up the food and brought bowls to the table. Paxton had always moved with an almost languid lack of speed. He was never in a hurry, no matter how urgent the cause, but he always got the job done.

  Steam rose from the bowls that he set on each of their place mats, tempting her to inhale. They were joined by perfect slices of cornbread. Could this man do anything wrong? This meal couldn’t have been better designed to settle her stomach. Carbs and more carbs.

  Not that her admiration sat well with her. She wished she could ignore how capable he was, both in business and with people. Feeding her anger and resentment would make this situation a whole lot easier. Those emotions helped her keep him at arm’s length, whereas admiration just made her want him more.

  To hide her conflict, she leaned over the bowl and breathed deep. Potato. She remembered it as one of his favorite options this past winter from one of the local restaurants where she ordered his lunches. Paxton also set a tray on the table with little bowls of cheese, bacon, sour cream, ham and scallions.

  “This is very domestic,” she said. Almost immediately she winced, because she hadn’t meant to sound petulant.

  “Man cannot live by restaurant alone,” he joked, ignoring her tone and flashing that grin again. “Not even the single man.”

  Ivy knew her mouth had fallen open, and she struggled to close it even though the surprise remained. “You made this?” she asked, remembering all the lunches she’d provided to him over the last year and a half. Paxton didn’t believe in brown-bagging it.

  He raised a brow. “Your extreme surprise is not very flattering.”

  She met his expression with a lifted brow of her own. “I think I have a right to be surprised. I used to order all your takeout, remember?” She gestured toward the steaming food. “I just assumed this came from a restaurant.”

  “No restaurant. Just these two hands.” He raised them, palms facing her, as if that alone would prove the truth.

  She knew just how capable those hands were. In the office. With his family. In the bedroom. But she’d never guessed that they were also talented in the kitchen. Deep down inside, she was ashamed that she hadn’t known this about a man whom she felt so deeply for. What other things about him did she not know outside of work?

  For lunch, he ate at his restaurant of choice. Either there or had it delivered to the office. It never occurred to her that he was cooking like this at home. She stared down at the creamy concoction in her bowl.

  “Though I do admit,” he went on, as if conceding her point, “I had the groceries delivered.”

  Man, that grin was so hard to resist. As if sensing that she might be open to conversation now, he quickly changed the subject. “I’ve been looking around the house this afternoon.”

  There was a subtle accusation in his pointed glance that she chose to ignore. “This house has excellent craftsmanship. Have you always lived here?” he continued.

  Without thinking, Ivy answered, “Auntie’s family built it. Then she and her husband lived here during their marriage.”

  Paxton’s brow furrowed...the first sign of her mistake. “I’m confused,” he said.

  Shoot. How much could she say without saying too much? “Oh, Auntie isn’t really our aunt. She took us girls in when my parents died.”

  “Wow.” Paxton looked impressed. “She went from no children to three girls? That’s a very big sacrifice. I assume she knew your parents well?”

  Certainly Ivy was aware of the dangerous waters she was swimming in. Any discussion of her family or Auntie’s family could move into dangerous territory very quickly, so she’d keep her answers short and sweet. “She was my mother’s nanny.”

  She took a couple more bites as an excuse to not talk.

  “I didn’t know you were an orphan. How did your parents die?”

  Ivy’s stomach twisted. Her parents’ deaths were not something she was comfortable discussing, even after all these years. “It was a car accident,” she choked out.

  The flash of grief, memories of a young child devastated at the sudden loss, made her antsy. She found herself crumbling the last bite of cornbread on her plate between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Were y’all from here? Originally?” he asked.

  The questions seemed so innocent, but were they? Ivy’s emotions coalesced into a distinct unease. Until she found the right path, she had to protect her family.

  Oblivious, Paxton went on. “There definitely seems to be a sailing theme around here.” He pointed to some of the memorabilia in the china cabinet, a few ships in miniature that had been passed down to the girls. “Was your family in the shipping busine
ss?”

  Alarm sped through Ivy with the speed of a wildfire. She stared deep into her empty bowl, wishing she had more of the yummy goodness. Not because she was hungry, but just to have something to occupy her hands. “I’d really rather not talk about this right now,” she mumbled.

  Then she forced herself to her feet and carried her bowl across to the stove.

  “Let me do that,” Paxton insisted, rising from his seat.

  “I can do it.”

  It was ridiculous how often she had to repeat that these days. She was capable, though some days she needed to convince herself that she could do things, even if it was something as simple as fixing herself a bowl of soup.

  “I don’t mind,” he said. “Let me do it for you.”

  Helplessness washed over her, but she refused to give in. Stubborn. It’s what her family had always called her. Through clenched teeth, she repeated, “I can do it, Paxton. I’m not an invalid.”

  The strength of her emotions washed away any desire for more food. Embarrassment filtered into the mix. But she hated anyone thinking she was weak, hated how much she had to rely on other people these days.

  But most of all, she hated how out of control everything felt...

  * * *

  This reconnaissance mission is going nowhere.

  Frustration sharpened Paxton’s nerves as he stared out the window late that night. He couldn’t even focus on the laptop open before him. Concentrating on work had never been a problem. This situation was just unusual enough to cause a simmering mixture of unease and frustration that blocked his usual productivity.

  His purpose in coming here had been thwarted by one prickly blonde woman. Instead of hanging out together, or even sitting in the same room, Ivy had retreated to her bedroom not long after dinner—and he’d counted himself lucky that she’d hung around that long.

  Though they had technically been in the same room, she’d pretended to sleep between lunch and dinner. She might actually have slept for a bit in front of the television, which was tuned to a marathon of a crazy reality show she hadn’t seemed to be watching. He’d wondered more than once if she’d chosen it on purpose just to annoy him.