His Heir, Her Secret (Highland Heroes Book 1)

by Janice Maynard

  “How may I help you, sir? Ma’am?”

  Brody lifted Cate’s left hand. “We need an engagement ring. It was a fast wedding, and this bride deserves a stone as special as she is.”

  “No, Brody,” Cate stuttered beneath her breath. A fake wedding didn’t require jewelry.

  He ignored her. “I’d like to see loose stones. Emeralds to match her eyes.”

  “Of course.” The man reached beneath the counter and opened a safe. Muttering to himself, he sorted through several small packets until he found the one he wanted. “Here we go,” he said triumphantly. He held out his hand, palm flat. The jewel he had selected was a deep, brilliant green. It caught the light and sparkled beautifully.

  Brody picked up the emerald and examined it under the nearby microscope. “Very nice,” he said.

  Freaking understatement of the year. “Brody,” she whispered. “I don’t need something that expensive. I’m fine with the wedding ring you gave me.”

  He frowned at her. “Well, I’m not.” He pinned the merchant with a sharp gaze. “Origin? Size?”

  “Colombian. Three carats. As fine a stone as I’ve seen in the past twenty years.”

  “We’ll want a setting to match the wedding ring. Something plain. I don’t want to detract from the stone.” He turned to Cate. “Do you like it, Catie girl? I can buy a diamond if you’d rather have that.”

  She gulped. “Um, no. No diamonds. The emerald is incredible. But seriously, Brody, I—”

  He had already turned away and was examining the tray of platinum settings. A moment later he selected a traditional six-prong style that would cradle the emerald. The salesman scribbled something on a small slip of paper. He showed it to Brody. Brody nodded.

  And it was done. Brody handed over his credit card.

  The man practically danced with joy. “Give me an hour,” he said. “And I’ll have it ready for you.”

  Outside, Cate fretted. “I know that ring costs a fortune, Brody. You want to provide for the baby, and I appreciate your help. But I don’t need an engagement ring, really I don’t.”

  “Too late,” he said blandly. “The deed is done.”

  “I’ll give it back when the marriage is over.”

  For a brief moment she quailed at the fire in his eyes. Fury blazed. But he brought himself under control rapidly. “Ye’re being rude, lass. It’s a gift between lovers. We agreed not to discuss other topics, remember?”

  He had his hands on her bare shoulders. Because of the press of people on the street, they were standing close, her rounded belly touching him. She stared into his eyes, trying to decide if she noted anything there other than male hunger. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not accustomed to having men give me extravagant presents.”

  His lips quirked in a wry smile. “This is verra new to me, as well, lass. Do ye want to go to the hotel while we wait for the ring?”

  She took a chance and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him square on the mouth. The shock on his face was worth any momentary discomfort at being the first one to make a move. The man needn’t think he was in charge all the time. “My doctor said walking is good for me. It’s a perfect evening. I’m up for a leisurely stroll.”

  Brody blinked. “Well, okay, then. Let’s walk.”

  For Cate, it was a night filled with magic. She might be a shotgun bride with a baby on the way, but romance was definitely in the air.

  All along Duvall Street, humanity ebbed and flowed, bracketed with tropical flowers and steel drum melodies. Music spilled from bars and restaurants. Laughter and chatter filled the air.

  Brody held her hand, his grip firm as if he was afraid she might disappear into the crowd. Cate shut her mind to the past and the future and concentrated on the present. No matter what happened down the road, she would have the memories of this night to sustain her.

  At last, they turned around and made their way back to the jewelry store. The salesman—whom they discovered was actually the owner—was ready for them. He held up a small black-and-gold bag. “All set, Mr. Stewart. I’ve put it in one of our very best boxes. Though I’m guessing the lady would like to wear it.”

  His arch smile was too much for Cate. She hung back.

  Brody took the bag. “I don’t know about the lady, but I want to see the emerald on her finger.”

  He opened the box, removed the ring and then tucked the packaging into his inside coat pocket. Going down on one knee, he took both of Cate’s hands in his. “I’ve mucked this up, Catie girl. But will you agree again to be my bride?” Without waiting for permission, he gently pushed the ring onto the appropriate finger of her left hand until it nestled against the wedding band.

  “Oh, Brody.”

  The ring was exquisite, perhaps the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen, much less owned. His big thumb caressed her knuckles. “I can’t get off this damned hard floor until you give me an answer.”

  Cate laughed softly. “Aye, Mr. Stewart. I’ll be your bride.”

  At last, he stood and kissed her, apparently unconcerned they were being observed.

  Cate’s stomach fell to her knees and whooshed upward again like the elevator at the Empire State Building. Too much excitement for one evening. She was dizzy with happiness.

  “Brody,” she whispered. “Let’s go back to our room.”

  His eyes darkened to navy. “I’m no’ an experienced groom, but I know a good offer when I hear one.”

  As they made their way to the hotel, all of Cate’s doubts returned a hundredfold. How could she make love to him and still protect herself? How terrible was it when one loved and the other did not?

  Once Brody unlocked the door to their suite and they stood in the elegant sitting room, everything became awkward. They had already eaten and showered. There was nothing left to do except for that thing newlyweds enjoy on their wedding night.

  Her heart was beating so fast and so hard she was afraid she might get sick again or faint.

  Brody was no fool. He cupped her face in warm hands. “You’re trembling, Catie girl. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she lied. “Not exactly. But I got married today, and things are different.” And I know now that I’m in love with you.

  He shook his head, folding her close against his chest and stroking her hair. “Not different at all, lass. We’re the same two people. We want each other, and we’re going to spend a long, wonderful night together. Nothing has changed, I swear. No need for nerves.”

  Brody was trying to comfort her, but every word he uttered underscored the bitter truth. For him, this was a marriage of convenience. For Cate, the mockery of what this relationship ought to be rubbed salt into a wound. Brody could brush aside the implications of the marriage license and the vows because they meant little to him. He wasn’t in love with her.

  But it was painfully different for Cate.

  Sixteen

  Brody knew something was wrong, but he hadn’t a clue how to fix it. Cate was almost rigid in his embrace. Her distress was palpable. He played with her hair and murmured to her in Gaelic until at last her body relaxed. Only then did he scoop her up in his arms and carry her into the bedroom.

  Though his instinct was to bend her over the lace-covered bed and take her wildly, he kept a tight leash on his hunger. Women put great stock in things like romantic wedding nights. He wouldn’t ruin the moment for Cate.

  He set her on her feet and played with the narrow straps at her shoulders. “Are ye wearing anything underneath this dress, Catie girl?”

  Finally, a small smile tilted her lips. “Not much. Feel free to explore.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The soft, gauzy fabric of Cate’s outfit had neither buttons nor zippers. After a few moments of study, he deduced that all he had to do was peel it carefully over her body in
order to remove it.

  To keep himself in check, he started slowly. He tugged the straps down her arms to her elbows. The bodice bunched up just above the tips of her breasts. His hands were clammy. Very deliberately, he tugged again and sighed as she was bared to him from what once was her waist all the way up.

  “I still can’t get used to these curves,” he said. He brushed her nipples with his thumbs and cupped the warm weight of her in his two hands.

  Cate stood unmoving, her gaze downcast.

  “Look at me, lass.”

  When she finally raised her head and her eyes met his, he realized with no little shock that his Cate was as aroused as he was. Her cat eyes sparkled, and her cheeks were flushed.

  Experimentally, he rolled the tips of her breasts between his fingers and tugged. Cate’s low groan went straight to his groin and hardened his erection to a painful degree.

  “Don’t move,” he said raggedly.

  He ripped his shirt from his pants and dragged at the buttons, popping loose at least two in the process. With his tie strangling him, he shrugged out of the shirt and finally managed to ditch the tie, as well.

  Cate’s eyes fastened on his chest. She laid a palm flat over the spot where his heart hammered wildly. “You’re a beautiful man, Brody Stewart,” she whispered, stroking him until he could barely breathe.

  “You keep stealing my lines,” he croaked. How far was it to the bed? He was losing control.

  Cate touched his belt buckle. “May I?”

  He couldn’t have answered either way if his life depended on it. His throat closed up entirely.

  Her small, deft hands dealt with button and zipper and fly. Soon, she grasped him and sighed.

  Brody steeled himself. Letting Cate play when he wanted to rush headlong to the main event was virtually impossible. Her fingers squeezed and measured and stroked with careful reverence that destroyed him.

  “Cate...” The single syllable was guttural.

  She looked up at him. “Too much?” Her eyes were huge.

  “Not enough.”

  He took the reins again and gently finished removing her dress. Now her only adornment was silver hoop earrings, strappy, high-heeled sandals and the rings he had placed on her finger.

  Her ripe, lush body was incredibly beautiful and alluring—like a Gauguin he had once seen in the Louvre during a school trip. As a teenage boy, he had understood the lust of male for female, but not the deep, wrenching need to please a woman.

  Feeling remarkably light-headed, he kicked off his shoes, removed his socks and stepped out of his trousers. His erection stood flat against his belly. Cate’s eyes rounded slightly as if she had never seen him like this before.

  Suddenly, he lost his nerve. This was Cate’s wedding night. He’d told her it didn’t matter, but he was wrong. It mattered a hell of a lot. He had given her his name and his ring, if not his heart. Tonight she deserved to be wooed and taken with every ounce of finesse he could muster.

  He took one of her hands in his. “Come with me.”

  The bed was tall and covered in pillows. He tossed them all aside but two and folded back the fancy duvet. The sheets were crisp and cool to the touch. Again, he lifted her, intending to lay her on the mattress. But this time she was naked. The feel of her in his arms fried his brain.

  He felt like a caveman faced with a glorious princess. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he muttered. “When I first set eyes on you last October, I knew you were going to be trouble.” He said it teasingly, but the truth of that statement resonated in his gut.

  Something about Cate Everett made him a little insane.

  Her hands were linked behind his neck. When she kicked her feet, both shoes went flying. “Are we going to talk all night?”

  Her little pout forced a choked laugh from his parched throat. “God, I hope not.”

  He dropped her on the bed and chuckled when she bounced and protested. Then he was down beside her, his hands roving her body like a blind man learning the curves and valleys of a perilous journey.

  Cate was larger now, and infinitely more lovely. He pressed his fingertips on either side of her navel and bowed his head when Baby Stewart kicked in protest. “Is the sex okay?” he asked. “Do we have to be careful?”

  “No more careful than usual,” she said.

  Suddenly, he wanted her on top more than any other position he could think of. “How about this for starters?” He sprawled on his back and helped her move astride him.

  She bit her lip, her expression anxious. “Are you sure, Brody? I must look like a cow from this angle.”

  He scowled. “Don’t be absurd. I want you so badly I’m shaking, Cate. Do I seem like I’m repulsed by you?”

  “Oh,” she said, chastened. “Okay. I thought maybe you were just being nice.”

  He took her fingers and wrapped them around his rigid sex. “There’s nothing nice about this, lass. I’m going to have ye now.”

  He grasped her hips and guided her down onto his erection. Her body took his eagerly, stretching to accommodate him, gloving him in warm, wet heat. Holy hell.

  He closed his eyes and tried to breathe as he tried not to come inside her. Not yet. Damn, not yet.

  Cate leaned forward, her hands on his chest. “Brody? Are you okay? Your face looks weird.”

  He started laughing and couldn’t stop. Each time he laughed, her body slid another millimeter down onto him. “Ye’re killin’ me, Catie girl. I’m like a green lad with his first woman. I’m about to embarrass myself and you haven’t even crossed the first gate yet.”

  His pregnant lover wriggled her hips and groaned. “I’m not as far behind as you think, stupid man. Do something. Move. Please.”

  For the first time it dawned on him that his beautiful Cate was as wildly reckless with lust as he was. “Aye.” That was all he could manage. One short word. He thrust his hips and found the mouth of her womb with the head of his sex.

  “Yes...” Cate was flushed all over, her face rosy-red. “More,” she demanded. “More, Brody.”

  He lost it. All thoughts of rings and babies and wedding-night romance flew out the window. Passion consumed him, that and the need to make Cate irrevocably his. He worked her up and down on his erection wildly, knowing her pale hips would bear the mark of his hands.

  “Cate. Ah, God, Cate.” His climax slammed into him, rendering him rigid in release for what seemed like eons, and then lax with pleasure. With his last vestige of sanity, he found her pleasure spot and rubbed it.

  She came apart and cried out his name.

  He rolled to his side and cuddled her.

  * * *

  Cate floated in a haze of contentment, blinking blearily as she realized that the pinks and golds of dawn had sneaked into the room. She and Brody had only slept in snatches all night long. The man was voracious. Not that she was complaining.

  With a smug smile, she turned her head and examined his now-familiar face. Her husband slept deeply, obviously worn out from his many hours of vigorous activity. Surely Brody felt something for her. He was so tender, so sweet. Even in the middle of the night when they were half-asleep, he played with her hair. She had lost most of the pins along the way.

  Though it pained her to leave him, nature called. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she washed up, donned one of the fancy hotel robes and tried to do something about the disaster that was her hair. She found the few remaining pins, removed them and brushed out what was left of her bridal hairstyle.

  Though it would be nice to spend all day in bed, it did seem a shame to miss seeing more of Key West. Maybe they could order room service and then head out...

  When she returned to the bedroom, Brody was awake and staring at his phone. Something about the rigid set of his jaw told her he wasn’t in quite as good a mood as she was. He was still nude
, but he had wrapped a coverlet from the foot of the bed around his waist.

  “Brody? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He shot her a glance. “There’s been an accident. In Scotland. One of our boats rammed another one in the Skye harbor. Multiple injuries. There may be fatalities.”

  She went to him and slid her arms around his from behind. “I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  He shrugged free of her light embrace, crossed the room to get his suitcase and began dressing with jerky motions. “I have to get back.”

  Her jaw dropped. “To Scotland? But we’re on our honeymoon. Can’t Duncan handle things?”

  Brody turned around and shot her an incredulous look. “We may be sued.”

  “Don’t you have insurance?”

  “Cate,” he said forcefully. “You aren’t listening. You don’t understand. If victims start suing my company, I could lose everything. Everything.”

  Perhaps she hadn’t understood the first time, but she did now. When Brody said the word everything, he clearly wasn’t including Cate and the baby. The everything he was so passionate about was all back in Scotland. His wife and his child were no more than inconvenient incidentals.

  From the beginning she had known that loving Brody and losing him was going to hurt. She just hadn’t expected it to end so soon.

  * * *

  The next hours passed in a haze of frustration and incredulity. Brody was on the phone constantly, wheeling and dealing and cajoling to change tickets and book new ones. By noon they had boarded a plane to Fort Lauderdale. When they landed, Brody quick-marched her to another terminal and another gate. He handed her a ticket. “I’ve booked you a first class seat to Asheville. And I arranged for a car to pick you up on the other end and take you to Candlewick.” He paused. “I’m sorry about Key West, Cate. We’ll go another time.”

  She hid every ounce of her hurt and despair. “Of course. When does your flight leave?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Four hours. But it’s from Miami. I’m renting a car. I’d better get over there.”