Son of Scandal

by Dani Wade

  “What?”

  “I never took you for being so gullible. Then again, pretty faces are your weakness. They always have been.”

  Anger shot straight through Paxton at the reference, pushing him to his feet. “I said, that’s enough.” The burn of regret flooded his chest. “Let’s go, Ivy.”

  As he helped Ivy up from her chair, Karen said, “So, you would disregard your family’s prudent warning in favor of a woman who will trick you into marrying her?”

  This time the gasp was more collective. Paxton was glad to see some of his family had sensibilities.

  “I have never demanded that Paxton marry me,” Ivy insisted.

  “But that baby gives you a pretty good meal ticket, at least for the next eighteen to twenty-two years, in my opinion.”

  Paxton froze for a moment. Ivy’s soft whimper seemed loud in the room. How his grandmother had found out about the baby, he wasn’t sure.

  “She’s pregnant?” his mother moaned.

  A quick glance showed each of his sisters eyeing each other with raised brows. The rest of the audience was frozen in place, not daring to interfere, though his father did shoot him a look of sympathy.

  He wanted to get Ivy out of there fast, but knew retreat would be seen as weakness by his family. He’d have to stick it out a little longer.

  “Though I don’t know how you know that, Ivy did not trick me into getting pregnant. I’m the one who provided the protection.” If the situation hadn’t been so tense, Paxton would have smiled as he remembered the illuminating conversation with Auntie.

  His mother’s face scrunched up. “Paxton!”

  “Grandmother brought it up. I’m simply stating the truth.”

  But the elder Mrs. McLemore wasn’t buying it. “I’m sure that’s what she let you think. Regardless the result is the same.” Karen folded her hands before her as if reinforcing her matriarch status. Her words were clear and even. “Despite how it came about, the first male grandchild will be a wonderful addition to our family.”

  “What?” Ivy said, confusion clouding her face. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

  Paxton reached out for her arm. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  “Regardless of whether we marry or not, Ivy and her baby will be a wonderful addition to the McLemore family,” he said.

  “Hardly, Paxton. I’m afraid we must maintain standards.” She eyed Ivy. “But that’s all right—everyone has a price.”

  Ivy’s entire body snapped to attention. Paxton could tell by the hard look on her face that she’d had enough. He had, too. Unfortunately his grandmother spoke before he could get them moving toward the door.

  “So, how much is it, my dear? I’m sure a lawyer will happily draw up an agreement for us to purchase your parental rights.”

  Ivy scoffed, even as her face went sheet white. “There isn’t enough money in the world to separate me from my child, lady. Especially not after all I’ve been through.”

  The pain on her face shook Paxton to his core. Time to end this.

  He stepped in close and secured her to his side with her arm through his; a look was all he could give her right now to assure her he understood. Then he escorted her to the head of the table, where he paused to look down at his grandmother, his body a barrier meant to protect Ivy.

  “All I asked for was a number, Paxton,” Karen said, an odd look of surprise in her amber eyes, so much like his own. How could she not know what she was doing was wrong?

  He’d happily set her straight. “Since you obviously haven’t realized this yet, let me make a few things clear. One. Ivy and I will make our own decisions in this situation. Not you. Not Mother or Father.”

  Then he leaned closer, dominating his grandmother’s space in a way he never had before. “And two, if you think I’m the type of man to separate any woman from her child, you never knew me at all.”

  Fifteen

  Concern for Ivy exploded in Paxton’s chest on the drive back to his house. When they got inside, defeat weighed her down, causing her to sag against the side table in the foyer, her head hanging forward. Paxton sympathized. She’d been through so much. His family’s behavior had to be a body blow.

  One he didn’t know how to soften...even for himself.

  Without hesitation he put his arms around her, pressing himself firmly against her back as if to protect her from another hit. “It will be okay, Ivy,” he whispered against her temple.

  Though he didn’t know how. He knew his grandmother well. If her decision about Ivy was this firm, she’d just keep coming. She didn’t back down. Weakness was a trait she’d never allowed to fester, not even at her advanced age.

  Could he possibly find a way to change her mind?

  Unbidden, he found himself swaying back and forth as if to music only he could hear. Slowly Ivy’s body softened, the tension leaching away. He drew her even closer against him, wishing they were skin to skin. But the lack of space in the foyer was almost symbolic to him—the two of them, together as one against the world. Most power struggles were simply a business game to him—a cat-and-mouse race to see who reached the prize first. Winning was a pleasure.

  Now it was a necessity. For him. For Ivy. For their child.

  “We’ll get through this together.”

  Together. They would, but right now there would be no fighting. Only love.

  Yes. That was what they needed.

  He lifted her into his arms, savoring her gasp of surprise. Then he carried her up the stairs to the master suite. His room. Their room.

  And he wanted nothing more than to have this princess in his bed.

  It was a little reminiscent of a fairy tale, he had to admit. The thought made him grin, a return of lightness. Though she didn’t come from an upper-class background, Ivy had always reminded him of a princess. It was just in the air about her and the way she held herself. As he laid her in the king-size bed, her golden hair spread across the burgundy-colored pillows, giving her a rich, royal air.

  The impression didn’t diminish as he removed her clothing, piece by piece. If anything, the white lace bra and panties gave her an even more noble air. How anyone could look at Ivy, with her classic bone structure and regal demeanor, and define her as something common was beyond him.

  He wanted to tell her how gorgeous, how perfect she was. Instead he determined to show her.

  Quickly Paxton stripped his tie and jacket, toeing off his shoes while he opened his shirt one button at a time. He held her gaze, letting the anticipation build.

  Ivy had been the adventure of a lifetime.

  Needing to be closer, he crawled up, letting the open sides of his shirt fall on either side of her naked body. His shadow overtook her. As the need to imprint himself on her grew, he made a place for himself between her thighs, resting the weight of his body on hers. He buried his hands in her hair, then leisurely tasted her lips, neck, down her collarbone to her breast. When this was over, he wanted Ivy to remember him with every part of her body. Never to forget his possession or the pleasure he made her feel.

  Her hands closed over his ribs, and he felt her growing urgency in the desperation of her grip. His body reveled in her urgency, letting it feed his own. She lifted her hips against him, silently begging him to take her. Every single part of his body, down to his smallest cell, gathered the energy he would need to meet this incredible challenge.

  He lifted up onto his knees. To his relief, she immediately unbuckled his dress pants. Slick skin greeted him as he pressed intimately against her. He savored the decadent feel of her naked beneath him, his still-covered legs rubbing against her delicate inner thighs. Bare chest to bare chest.

  Paxton’s drive, to take what he needed and leave her with even more, kicked into full gear. He pressed inside of her. Any logical thinking that remained at
this point imploded, leaving him a creature of instinct and emotions. His inner struggle mimicked the rise and fall of their bodies until he pushed them over the edge, into the ultimate oblivion.

  But in the quiet aftermath, when the only sound was their labored breathing and her whispered “I love you, Paxton,” he found the word still wouldn’t come in return. Instead he once again kissed her temple and whispered that everything would be okay. Then he wrapped his body around hers, and prayed he didn’t have to make the choice he could see coming.

  * * *

  “I wish to see Paxton, please,” Karen McLemore demanded as she approached Ivy’s desk.

  Without a word Ivy led her through, no longer feeling any need to bother with polite pleasantries. The elder Mrs. McLemore probably wouldn’t appreciate them anyway. And Ivy knew, without it being said, that her days here were numbered.

  There wasn’t any reason to buzz him first. She knew Paxton wasn’t in a meeting or on the phone. The last few days he’d spent most of his time staring out the window, trying to make decisions he didn’t share with her. Ironic, considering how many times he’d judged her for the same.

  She only knew he felt more distant every day, since the moment she’d made the mistake of saying I love you. Were the words too much pressure for a man like him? Was it only a matter of time before he decided to leave her? Decided that she wasn’t worth fighting his family for?

  Ivy wasn’t able to ignore professional courtesy, so she opened the door for his grandmother, but didn’t glance his way. Karen McLemore strode inside with the confidence of an imperial ruler surveying her domain.

  Just as Ivy began to retreat, the imperious command rang out. “Stay!” Then a quieter but no less stern, “This concerns you, too.”

  That couldn’t be good.

  Was she about to be fired? Karen McLemore was, after all, the owner of the family corporation. She had the power to do as she wished. And the right to do so.

  Even though Ivy had been anticipating this very thing, the thought of trying to find a job right now brought on a wave of nausea. She didn’t imagine Paxton’s grandmother would skimp on all the details she was sure to pass along to any potential employers who were looking for a reference. That would look good on Ivy’s track record...not.

  Would Ivy have to move away to be able to support herself and her child? Was history about to repeat itself?

  As she froze in quiet panic, Paxton rose from behind his desk. “Grandmother,” he said, acknowledging her in an overly-formal tone.

  “Paxton, you have not returned my phone calls.”

  He stayed silent, keeping his gaze trained on the older woman. His expression was more somber than Ivy had ever seen.

  Ivy wasn’t even aware his grandmother had tried to contact him. Then again they rarely spoke these days, except for business. Instead they spent every moment outside the office in bed, as if desperate to savor the connection while it lasted.

  “I can’t really imagine what we would have to say to each other,” he said.

  “Well, I can.”

  Karen strode forward, pulling a stuffed file folder from her leather portfolio. “The final report from our private detective came in.”

  Ivy swallowed hard. Our? Had Paxton been aware of this? Involved in this?

  He glanced her way, as if he could read her thoughts. “The company retains an investigator, but I’ve never used him to look into your background.”

  “You should have,” his grandmother said. “They found something you need to know.”

  “That Ivy’s family was involved in sinking our ship generations ago?”

  That took his grandmother by surprise, something Ivy imagined didn’t happen often. Karen stiffened. “You knew?”

  “Of course.” He shared a glance with Ivy. “We don’t have any secrets from one another.”

  Anymore...except how you really feel about me.

  His grandmother slammed the file down onto his desk. “Paxton, how could you consort with the enemy? We did not raise you to be led astray by good looks and a willing body.”

  His face hardened. “Ivy hadn’t even been born when that ship went down.”

  Karen glanced her way. “There’s murder in her blood.”

  “Really? The same way our family tried to kill an innocent woman and her child in retaliation?”

  Karen’s eyes narrowed. Ivy felt a moment of fear, even though the gaze wasn’t directed at her.

  But Paxton refused to back down. “We wanted revenge so badly, we would kill a child over something we had no proof of? You don’t usually include that part of the story, do you, Grams?”

  Karen raised her chin. “We did what was necessary.”

  “What was necessary was to find the real villain instead of victimizing the innocent.”

  She was already shaking her head in denial. “We did nothing of the sort.”

  “Really? I’ve seen the police reports. There was no evidence against her family.”

  Shock rippled through Ivy. Tate had spoken about police reports, but Ivy had never seen them. She’d imagined they’d been lost to time.

  “And I’ve seen proof that another party might be responsible.” Paxton crossed his arms over his chest. “Her family is innocent. But I guess your PI didn’t dig quite as deep as mine.”

  As if sensing she was losing her grip on this situation, Karen changed her tactics.

  “Paxton, we’ve always been close.” She studied him intently. Ivy would have been squirming by now, but Paxton stood solid. “Your outright rebellion is cause for great concern.”

  “Maybe I’m starting to see what my family is really like. And it’s not something I want to be a part of.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Ivy gasped as the words hit her square in the chest.

  Paxton leaned forward, bracing himself against his desk. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m assuring you that I will terminate your employment here if you do not end this relationship immediately.”

  No. No. Ivy had known this might get rocky, but this—to take Paxton from what he loved, what he was so good at...

  “I don’t need our family background or name to be successful in business.”

  “You might. When word gets out that you were sticking it to your secretary.”

  Ivy gasped at the crude language, but the battle of wills continued without her.

  “I’ve told you before, Grandmother. I will not separate Ivy from her child.”

  The words were a promise, one Paxton had given her many times, but still he offered no words of love.

  “Nor will I condemn her for something neither she nor her family did. They’ve suffered enough.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest as if to say, I can withstand anything you want to throw at me...

  “Clean out your desk.”

  Pain crossed his face, but his expression quickly smoothed out, hiding any further clues. Then he said, “Done.”

  “No.”

  Both of them looked her way. “Paxton, I know this isn’t what you want.”

  His grandmother smirked. “Neither does she. I’m eliminating her meal ticket.”

  “How can you be so cold?” Ivy demanded, the woman’s words crashing like a shock wave over her system. “He’s your grandson.”

  “He needs to be taught a lesson. As do you—we don’t need your kind in our family.”

  Ivy almost caved, but she couldn’t. Not after seeing that flash of pain on Paxton’s face. Besides, there was nothing to lose now.

  “I’m not doing any of this for money. I love Paxton. The last thing I would want would be to separate him from the family that means so much to him.”

  “Too late.”

  She looked at Paxton—a man too proud to give in, but with each of his
grandmother’s words, his hurt pushed to the surface of his cracking facade. This wasn’t what she wanted.

  “I will not do this to you, Paxton,” she said, surprised to see a touch of panic widen his amber eyes. “The last thing I want is to tear you away from the family you love. And we both know that’s where this is headed. It has been for a week now.”

  That’s why he’d been so quiet. And she understood. She truly did.

  “Goodbye, Paxton.”

  Nothing could’ve hurt more than saying those words. Even the fact that he didn’t make a move to stop her.

  Sixteen

  Ivy put the finishing touches on the table containing the items Tate had donated to the auction at Keller House. Then she stood back and looked over her handiwork.

  Not too bad, considering her heart wasn’t really in it.

  “Thank heaven for a busy week,” Willow said as she, too, surveyed the display for tonight’s auction. “It’s the best thing to take your mind off a man.”

  Ivy wished it were that easy, but the reminders of Paxton seemed to be everywhere. From trying to find her hair clip in the few boxes she’d hastily packed while Paxton was at work one day—at least one of them still had a job—to her difficulty finding a dress for tonight that would accommodate her thickening waistline.

  She couldn’t get away from him as easily as he seemed to ignore her.

  “Is Tate driving you crazy?”

  Willow rolled her eyes. “He’s near the end of a book. Nothing like it to make an author grumpy, hungry and reclusive. Kind of like a bear, from what I’ve heard.”

  Better to talk about her sister’s man problems than her own. Ivy made a noncommittal noise to keep Willow talking.

  “It was all I could do to drag him off the island for tonight’s auction.”

  Ivy could fully understand. Before Willow, Tate hadn’t had any kind of social life. His only trips off his island had been meetings with his editor. Now he came to family dinners and the occasional event. Not to mention rescuing future sisters-in-law when they needed it.