“You don’t have to do this tonight. Everyone will understand.”
“I want to. Besides, once all of this is wrapped up, my job will be finished and I can head home.”
His stomach tightened. “Maybe.”
She folded her arms across her chest, cocked her head and stared at him. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on with you?”
He came to her and sat down on the coffee table so they were knee to knee. “I know my timing is off, but this can’t wait. I’m in love with you, Frannie.”
She blinked. Shook her head firmly. “No. You’re not. You’re feeling guilty because I got hurt on SRO property. Don’t worry. I won’t sue you.”
Her flip response frustrated him, but he held his temper, because he probably deserved that. This moment was too important to let her sidetrack him. “Even before I saw you in that bed, unconscious, I understood.”
“Understood what?”
“That I loved you.”
She pursed her lips. “May I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“They told me you were the one who found me and called 911. How is that possible if you were on a plane?”
Thinking about that day made him shudder. “I was almost at the airport,” he said. “Suddenly, I had this overpowering feeling that you were in trouble. Like that night at Glenderry when those two boys had you cornered. I turned the car around and drove like hell to headquarters, but it was too late.”
She patted his hand. “Maybe not. The police think my attacker was probably still in the building. When he heard you, it must have scared him off and saved my life.”
“I thought you were dead,” he croaked, remembering. “There was so much blood, and you were unconscious.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” he shouted, jumping up and pacing.
Frannie sighed, seeming to deflate. “It’s all over, Zach. It’s all over. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Except it wasn’t. He had told Frannie he loved her, and she had brushed his declaration aside as if it were inconsequential. And he’d pushed her away when she had reached out to him, wanting to know and accept the real Zachary Stone. She had little reason to believe him now, given the way he had acted, but still.
Despite her protests to the contrary, Frannie was weak. She fell asleep after he fed her lunch, and she napped for almost two hours. While she rested, he paced.
He had to make her believe him. He loved her, and as scary as it was, he didn’t want to hide who he really was from her any longer. He sure as hell couldn’t let her leave Portland. If that happened, he might never see her again.
At five, his brothers and sisters-in-law arrived. Dolly was with a sitter. Katie and Ivy had prepared finger foods for the evening meal, perhaps understanding that Frannie wasn’t up to sitting at the dining room table for long periods of time.
While everyone ate, the conversation remained light and low-key. It was Frannie who finally broached the subject that had brought them all here.
She surveyed the group with a smile. “This wasn’t quite how I imagined making my report, but here goes.”
Farrell held up a hand. “Before you start, I think I speak for all of us when I say how glad we are that you have recovered so well. You had us scared, Frances.”
“Well, I’m fine,” she said briskly. “Unfortunately, your paranoia was well-founded, as I guess we all now know.”
Quin frowned. “And it really was Edward Cordell?”
Frannie never looked at Zachary. “Yes, but he had help. His twenty-four-year-old grandson was involved. The policy at SRO is no personal email on company computers. Edward abided by that rule...mostly. But twice, in the time before you began noticing irregularities and before the car accident, Edward slipped up and emailed his grandson from work. After I found that, I was able to hack into his personal email account, and it was all there.”
“But why?” Katie asked.
“From what I could tell,” Frannie said, “Mr. Cordell had been nursing a decades-long grudge. Mr. Stone Sr. was his best friend. But Edward felt like he had been cheated in some business venture the two of them were involved in back in the early ’70s. Edward began using his grandson as a sounding board. The grandson bought into the notion that Edward was owed something more than a pension, and between them, they hatched a plan to destroy Stone River Outdoors as revenge.”
Farrell was pale. “And the car accident?”
“Once I had the pieces, I spoke with the investigator you hired. We think the grandson paid a junkie to cause the accident, but it went too far. Perhaps it was only supposed to shake things up.”
“And my stolen designs?”
“I found digital photographs. Apparently, Edward was in your office at some point, saw a sketch pad and snapped a few pics with his phone. He gave them to the grandson, who floated them on half a dozen disreputable websites and found a buyer. As you probably know, the police have arrested both men. The grandson was defiant. He had been planning more mishaps for SRO. But in Edward’s statement, he apologized to all of you for letting his bitterness get out of control.”
Ivy shook her head slowly. “What a terrible sequence of events. You three brothers lost your father, and now two more men will likely spend their lives in prison. It’s like a Greek tragedy, only worse, because it affects the people I love.”
Zachary stood and paced, feeling jittery. In a Greek tragedy, there was never a happily-ever-after when it came to love and romance. He had to rewrite the ending of this damned play, but how?
Farrell stood. “I think it’s time for all of us to go home and let the patient rest.”
Frannie shook her head. “I’m fine. I love the company.”
Zachary heard the subtext loud and clear. She didn’t want to be alone with him. Thankfully for his agenda, the family went home anyway.
Frannie stretched. “I’m sleeping out here tonight, Zach. This sofa is super comfy, and I like being near the fireplace.”
He stared at her, feeling helpless. She was still fragile. He couldn’t push her too hard. He had to abide by her wishes. But how could he get through to her? How could he make her believe that his love was the real deal and that he realized his mistakes and was willing to change?
Maybe it was a moot point. Maybe she didn’t care.
“Okay.” He shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
* * *
Frannie was miserable. If she’d had her way, she would be staying at the hotel. But she knew without asking that neither Zachary nor any of his family would have allowed that. They all, to a one, felt responsible for her.
Their concern was touching, but Frannie desperately wanted to be alone. It was painful to remember how much she had put on the line and that Zach had rejected her love, even though she hadn’t technically spelled it out in words. His reciprocal confession was suspect. No matter how badly she wanted to believe him, she had to face the unpalatable truth that he was probably acting out of guilt and remorse.
Zachary lingered after his brothers and their wives left. “I’m going to my room now,” he said, the words oddly formal. “If you need anything at all, please call my cell.”
She stared at his expressionless face, her heart breaking. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then he was gone.
The powder room down the hall had a full bath. Even so, Frannie didn’t have the energy for a shower. The nurse had helped her take one before leaving the hospital. That would have to do for now.
After changing into her pajama pants and T-shirt, she brushed her teeth and swallowed a couple of headache tablets. She really was improving hour by hour, but late in the day, the back of her skull throbbed.
When she returned to the living room, all the lights were out, save for the one she could reach beside the sofa
. Zachary had tidied the area and brought out a soft bedsheet to cover the couch cushions, and also an extra pillow. Her blanket was folded back neatly.
On the coffee table, where she couldn’t miss it, lay a thick pile of manuscript pages. His book.
Her legs gave out. She sat down hard, picking up the first few bits of the chapter along with the small note on top. She set the note aside, unopened, and began the book.
Fifty pages in, she started crying. It was good. So good. Brilliant, in fact. He had laid the groundwork for a mystery so cleverly that she wanted to stay up all night reading.
But it was late, and her stores of energy were depleted.
Reluctantly, she picked up the folded scrap of paper that wasn’t part of the manuscript. Zach’s handwriting, the handwriting she remembered so well, was bold and dark and compelling. The words were few:
I do love you, Bug. You’re my potential.
Her heart constricted. Her chest hurt. She wanted so very badly to believe him. Why had he left his book for her to read? Was it a peace offering, or something more?
He’d said he loved her. But they had all been under tremendous pressure and stress. The situation was unprecedented.
For years, even in high school, Zachary had refused to reveal his true self. Or maybe he had never understood what he had to offer...had never believed or recognized his true strengths.
The thought that he might be expressing remorse or guilt or even another emotion he confused with love tore her apart.
There was only one way to find out, and it was risky.
On trembling legs, she made her way down the hall to his bedroom and stood quietly in the doorway. His bedside lamp burned with a soft, warm light. The rest of the room was shadowy. He wasn’t sleeping, or she didn’t think so. Instead, he lay on his back with one arm slung over his eyes. He was naked above the sheet he had pulled to his waist.
“Zach.” She clung to the door frame.
He sat straight up in bed, his hair askew, his expression wild. Maybe he had been sleeping after all.
She winced. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t asleep. I was thinking.”
Frannie took a few more steps toward the bed but stopped in the middle of the room. “Thinking about what?”
His face was grief stricken. There were no other words to describe the anguish she saw in him. “About failing you. In every way. As a friend, as a lover, as a human being.”
“You are who you are, Zach. And I love you...all of you.”
He tossed back the covers and stood, closing the distance between them with three long strides. “Thank God.” The way he dragged her against his warm body and buried his face in her hair made her want to weep. “I love you, too, Frannie,” he said, the gruff words stark. “I swear it on my mother’s grave.”
She stroked his back. “Love isn’t always enough. How could it work, Zach? You have two amazing homes here in Maine, a thriving company and a decades-long heritage. A family you care about. My job takes me all over the world. Besides, at the risk of sounding unbelievably selfish, I like what I do, and it gives me a great deal of fulfillment.”
He picked her up and carried her to the overlarge armchair by the fire, sitting down carefully and cuddling her in his lap. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, Bug. I’ve already spoken to my brothers, and they’ve each given me their blessing. I’m going to hire a suitable candidate to take over my position as CFO. There are plenty of trustworthy men and women out there who respect our company and would be a good fit.”
She searched his face. “But why?”
“Because being CFO is not my passion. I want to travel the world with my wife, if she’ll have me.” He kissed her softly. “What good is having a fortune if I can’t spend it doing something grand? We can visit Maine anytime, but my home will be where you are, Frannie. I adore you, sweetheart. And if you ever decide you want to try the mommy thing, I could be a kick-ass stay-at-home dad.”
“You’re serious...” She still couldn’t quite believe it.
“That’s why I left the book for you to read. So you would know for sure that I am whatever is way beyond serious. No one else has seen a word of that, Frannie. It’s deeply personal to me. From now on out, everything I have is yours. Body and soul. Heart and mind. Until death do us part.” His smile was lopsided, his gaze wary. “Will you marry me, Bug? I never did get a chance to teach you how to cook. And all that travel will give me a million ideas for new books to write.”
Frannie touched his chin, kissed his jaw. “I can’t believe this is happening. What if I’m dreaming?”
Zachary stroked her hair, twining a thick strand of it around his fingers. His brown eyes gleamed with happiness and mischief. “Then maybe we’ll never wake up, Frances Wickersham. It will be our own private fairy tale. Stone Man and the Bug. Together again.”
Tears wet her face, but they were happy tears, and Zach kissed them all away.
She rested her cheek over his heart. “Will you make love to me?”
He shook his head, looking pained. “The doc said no exertion for another week.”
“The doc isn’t here.” She pressed closer to his impressive erection.
Zachary stood and carried her to the bed. “I’ll hold you while you sleep, my love. But I’ll never hurt you again. You’re mine, Frances. Your gorgeous body, your generous, forgiving heart and your incredibly fascinating brain.” He settled her beneath the covers and scooted in beside her. “Sleep, sweet girl. Tomorrow is another day.”
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
Frannie stood in Quin and Katie’s beautifully decorated great room, wondering if she would ever stop smiling. The wound on the back of her head was completely healed but for the occasional little ache or pain. Katie had treated her this morning at a fancy salon, where the stylist carefully washed and dried Frannie’s long, thick hair and caught it up on the back of her head so that curls cascaded down her shoulders.
She was surrounded by beribboned garlands and swags of evergreens whose fresh, crisp scent reminded her of that first trip with Zachary to the northern coast. In the corner, a fabulous Christmas tree added a festive note.
In front of the fireplace stood a minister wearing a white robe. Ivy and Farrell were about to say their vows, flanked by Katie and Quin as their only attendants.
Frannie’s heart was so full, she thought it might burst.
She sneaked a quick glance at the man by her side. Zachary Stone in a tuxedo, holding a baby, was about the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His job was to pacify Dolly during the brief service, and then hand her over after the man and wife pronouncement.
Zachary caught Frannie staring at him and grinned.
I love you, she mouthed.
His quick nod and the way he reached for her hand and squeezed it told her more than words that her fiancé felt the same.
On the third finger of her left hand she wore the huge, flawless emerald he had given her to mark their formal engagement. The stone, set in a platinum band, was surrounded by tiny diamonds.
She and Zachary had discussed having a Valentine’s wedding after her big January assignment was finished, but really, she would be happy to show up at the courthouse one day. It didn’t matter.
The ceremony wound to a close, everyone cheering the new couple. Zach handed off the baby to her mom and her newly adoptive father.
While everyone else was occupied, Zachary pulled Frannie under the mistletoe and kissed her long and deep. When he lifted his head, his eyes were damp. “You’re my best friend, Frannie Wickersham. My lover. My forever wife. I adore you.”
She kissed him back, dizzy with everything the future held, stretching out before them.
“You were worth the wait, my dearest Stone Man. You were worth the wait.”
* * *
&n
bsp; Don’t miss a single Men of Stone River novel!
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Black Sheep Heir
by Yvonne Lindsay
One
“Vultures!”
Miles Wingate balled up the newspaper in his hand and tossed it across the dining room in a controlled burst of fury. The crumpled ball bounced on the polished wooden floor and skittered to rest against the molded baseboard. Even then, he could still see the glaring headline that had destroyed his appetite for anything remotely resembling breakfast.
WINJET FAILS SAFETY INSPECTION!
The syndicated article had cut far too close to the bone, exposing serious flaws in safety procedures at the WinJet aircraft manufacturing plant in Texas. At the very least, the fines would be massive. At the worst, the entire plant could be shut down. The fact that his late father’s cost cutting measures and often-underhanded tactics had come home to roost didn’t cause Miles much surprise. But when it meant his elder twin brothers, who headed Wingate Enterprises, and the rest of his family had to bear the brunt of it? That infuriated him in ways that he hadn’t experienced since long before he’d turned his back on the family business and moved to Chicago.
Still, his dad had been dead and buried for two years. Surely his brothers, Sebastian and Sutton, should have picked up on the discrepancies, which had led to the fiery disaster at the plant last month. Three workers had been seriously hurt. The lawsuit that had followed could easily be handled, but the subsequent internal investigation findings that had now led to a joint OSHA and FAA investigation becoming fodder for the media? That meant serious trouble for the company.
Secrets of a Playboy Page 17