by Dani Wade
Christina wasn’t sure where the paranoia was coming from. She didn’t care. Right now, he needed calm and his medicine. But his next words halted her in her tracks.
“I should have known you weren’t good enough for this job. Convenient, yes, but those scheming genes of your mother’s had to show up sometime.”
Christina swayed as all the blood drained from her head.
“Enough.” Aiden’s voice echoed off the painted paneling. “Bateman asked to meet with us at the mill. We went. If you want a report, I’ll have it to you by this afternoon.”
James looked like he wanted to say more, but winced, instead. Christina rushed forward, pushing everything aside but her training. “James. We’ll get your doctor out here to look over you. Nolen!” she yelled.
James gasped, and panic spread across his face. “It’ll be okay,” she soothed. “Nolen, let’s get him to the study and call an ambulance.”
But James was having none of it. “No. Just take me back to my room. Dr. Markham can come.”
“But, James—”
“No. No hospitals. If I’m gonna die, I’ll do it at Blackstone Manor.”
Two hours later, his wish came true.
* * *
Aiden stared at the monstrosity of a monument James Blackstone had erected for himself before turning away in disgust. He walked away from the crypt and the bronze coffin, leaving Christina behind as she greeted those still lingering at the graveside. Practically the whole town had attended the funeral, which made sense. The Blackstones were known by all. James would have expected the town to pay homage to him in his death.
Aiden just wished he could ignore the twinges of guilt James’s death had given him. Those final words, spoken in anger, left him feeling lower than low. Which was just what James would have wanted. Aiden’s emotions made no logical sense, but his grandfather had left him with more than one unwanted legacy.
As Aiden walked up the hill to the far corner of the cemetery, he shed the fake gratitude for fake sympathy that had soaked the last few days. Some of the ungodly tension he’d felt since he first walked back through the door of Blackstone Manor drained away. By the time he joined his brothers at his father’s graveside, he felt marginally lighter.
James Blackstone was dead. For real, this time.
As much as he hated to celebrate a death, without James, Aiden would be free to do as he wanted, no interference allowed. Lily’s guardianship would pass to him or one of his brothers, so James’s instrument of punishment was removed. Aiden could legally start a trust and care for his mother, and find a stable management team for the mill. No one would be left hanging. Then he’d be free to return to New York and his business there.
If part of him cringed at the thought of never tasting Christina again, he refused to acknowledge it. Just like he wouldn’t think about the last lonely nights back in his own room. In the long run, this was better for both of them.
“You hangin’ in there, brother?” Luke asked as Aiden approached.
Aiden nodded, then turned to hug Luke’s twin, Jacob. He had flown in as soon as Aiden contacted him about James’s death. As the chief operating officer of a major manufacturing company in Philadelphia, he was as steady and by the books as his twin wasn’t. The two men stood facing each other, looking like mirror images with their blond hair and suits. But Aiden knew the similarities ended there. Each twin was an individual, with his own strengths and talents, his own weaknesses. Today, dressed alike, with Luke’s hair trimmed for the occasion, the differences didn’t show. But they were there.
Blackstone Manor hadn’t been home for him in a very long time. But anywhere his brothers were, he counted as his home. Despite living in separate cities, they came together for several days three to four times each year. Aiden and Jacob had dinner once a month or more, since they lived about two hours apart.
Aiden glimpsed his father’s tombstone over his brothers’ shoulders. How he wished he could talk to his dad one more time—get some guidance on where to go from here. His major instincts screamed at him to run, but he was more and more reluctant to do so. And that scared him.
He told himself he’d grown a soul. That leaving the people of Black Hills high and dry just wasn’t what his mother would have wanted. But he feared his real motivations were much more complicated than that.
“Luke has been catching me up on all the drama,” Jacob said. It wasn’t surprising that the task had been left to his younger brother. Aiden had been running like a chicken with his head cut off since James’s death. “Married, huh?”
Aiden nodded. “Not for long, I hope.”
“I thought the deal was for a year. Besides, Christina is a lovely woman,” Jacob said.
Luke snorted. “Damn straight.”
“The deal was for a year while James was alive.” Aiden mentally crossed his fingers, and refused to think about just how lovely Christina was—his brothers didn’t need to know how far things had gone between him and his wife. “I’m hoping now that he’s gone there’s some way to untangle this whole situation. We’ll meet with Canton tomorrow for the reading of the will, then I’ll get my lawyer on it.”
Jacob nodded slowly, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck like it did when he was thinking. He stared past Aiden at the gathering below them, but Aiden had a feeling he wasn’t seeing much. Jacob was the problem solver of this little group. He’d been the one to find ways around James’s rules when they were kids, and viewed a multimillion-dollar problem as a simple brainteaser. So many times over the past month Aiden had picked up the phone to call him, ask him to get him out of this mess, but had always hung up.
This wasn’t Jacob’s problem; it was his.
“And what’s the plan?” Jacob asked.
“I’m not sure about long-term care for Mom yet. The guardianship should transfer to one of us. I figured, when the time came, we could talk to Christina about options.” And pray she didn’t spit in his face when he walked away. As unsettling as the thought was, he was determined to go through with his plans. He didn’t belong here. And he was quickly realizing that Christina deserved a lot better than the deal she’d gotten with him. “Without James here, I can visit Mom often, check in on her just like you all do.”
He turned back to watch the remaining visitors clear the cemetery, leaving Christina standing with Nolen and the funeral director. A slight, warm breeze blew the silky black material of her dress against her legs, displaying an outline of full hips and thighs. “I’ll need help finding someone to put in charge of the mill. With all the questionable stuff going on, we need someone smart enough to get ahead of the problems and hard enough to tell Balcher we’ll never sell—and make him believe it. Someone who will work well with Bateman. Getting it done before someone gets hurt is my major priority at the moment.” He’d worry about the personal issues later.
“I think I might have the man for you.”
Aiden turned back to look at Jacob. “Already? Seriously, dude, you are scary sometimes.”
“Not really. I want the job.”
Aiden stared at his brother. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luke doing the same. “Why?”
“I’ve been thinking about moving back here for a while.”
“And leave a successful career where you’re making millions? Again I ask, why?”
Jacob shrugged. “It’s personal, okay? I just want us to talk about it, see if that’s an option.”
“Is it? Of course. But I want you to be very sure.” Aiden’s arms crossed protectively over his chest, where hope was starting to form. If Jacob came home, Aiden could return to New York without any worries. Everything would be taken care of. Everything. But what about Christina? “I don’t want anyone stuck where they don’t want to be.”
Luke pushed his way back into the conversation. “You mean like you?”
he asked, eyes narrowed in a way that made Aiden uncomfortable.
Again came that twinge of uneasiness. Aiden ignored it. He’d made his intentions very clear to Christina from day one. “Damn straight.”
Ten
Aiden pushed open the study door with anticipation sizzling through his veins. An older man stood at the far window. When Nolen had told him who was waiting, Aiden had been surprised. Leo Balcher’s background and business had been an obsession since the trip to the mill. His showing up at Blackstone Manor and asking specifically to see Aiden was a stroke of luck. Whether good or bad remained unclear.
But it could give Aiden a chance to face off with the competition on home turf. He observed Balcher for a moment. The man’s chubby hands curved around the carved wood borders of the shelves on each side as he surveyed the farmland as if he already owned it.
He was in for a rude awakening.
He turned as Aiden closed the door behind him, a too-jovial smile on his round face inviting Aiden to treat him like a good ol’ boy. Unfortunately for him, Aiden hadn’t bought into the old Southern traditions men had for interacting with each other before he left, and he wasn’t about to schmooze and pat backs with Balcher. Having fought to earn his own way in a precarious profession, Aiden judged other men by the same standard of effort.
Comparing Christina and her sacrifice to some of the socialites he’d left behind in New York had him extending that thought to women, too. They might be on uneasy footing at the moment, but she was a woman worth more than many of the men he’d met. Including this one.
But Aiden wasn’t above using Balcher’s expectations against him.
Balcher crossed the room with his hand extended, his too-tight navy suit in stark contrast to Aiden’s polo, khaki pants and hair still wet from the shower. Seeing Balcher eye his informal attire, Aiden barely suppressed a grin. Under normal circumstances, Aiden would never attend a business meeting dressed like this. But he was still more put together than the crew they’d met on the courthouse steps the other day. Wearing a lot less cologne, too. But Balcher probably counted on him being a pushover, someone who had no interest in professional behavior, when the truth was he’d been caught at an inconvenient time.
But Aiden wouldn’t disabuse Balcher of his misconceptions. He’d use whatever advantage he could get.
“Mr. Blackstone. Nice to meet you.”
“Please, call me Aiden,” he said, enduring the man’s hearty handshake. Not really working, old man.
“This is a beautiful place, Aiden,” Balcher said, once again surveying his surroundings with possessiveness, only this time focusing on the dark, oppressive interior of the room Aiden had taken over as his office since moving back.
Taking in the heavy wood, curtains and ornate mirror, Aiden realized he really should gut this place and start over.
His lack of response unnerved Balcher, whose flashy smile was a little strained, giving Aiden a glimpse of too many teeth. He finally broke the silence on his own. “I hope the family is faring well, given the circumstances.”
Aiden dropped into the creaky leather chair, leaning back to clasp his hands together over his stomach.
“Thank you,” Aiden said with cool politeness...as close to chummy as he could manage. “We’re doing our best. As you can imagine, there is a lot going on at the moment. Is there something I can do for you this morning?”
“I would have thought James mentioned me in some fashion, and my interest in Blackstone Mills.”
He hadn’t directly. Aiden had to find that out on his own. Bateman was right—Aiden’s research showed Balcher loved to take the competition apart, piece by piece.
“I assumed this had to do with the mill, though I’m surprised you’d be here to talk business this soon after my grandfather’s death.”
The other man plopped his corpulent figure into one of the curved leather chairs facing the desk, adjusting his tie as if it was suddenly too tight. “No need to be so blunt, my man. Business should have its niceties. I simply prefer to get the ball rolling before other interested parties start moving in.”
Aiden leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, and almost grinned as he echoed Christina’s words. “Blunt is the way I deal—take it or leave it.”
Regardless of his thwarted desire to settle the mill quickly and walk away, Aiden wouldn’t have ever sold it to this man. Balcher wasn’t being polite for manners. No, his attitude had a slickness and Boss Hog–style that spoke of greed, of consumption to the detriment of others. Besides, Aiden didn’t believe in handing the lives and livelihood of people depending on him to someone he disliked on sight.
“Well, then, I’m sure your grandfather informed you of our discussions over the purchase of the mill and everything connected to it—”
“Marie told me we had a visitor, so I thought I’d bring along some refreshments,” Christina said, easing sideways through the door. She carried an old-fashioned tea tray with a teapot, cups and some fancy-looking cakes. Aiden greeted her arrival with reluctant fascination.
He could look at her beauty all day, but he’d rarely seen her since the funeral. Every room he entered she was just leaving. She’d taken most of her meals in Lily’s suite, leaving him alone with his brothers. If she didn’t relent once Jacob and Luke were gone, he’d be stuck eating alone.
And whose fault was that?
Having her here with her gracious movements and flattering smile was only going to distract him from besting Balcher. “That won’t be necessary, Christina. Mr. Balcher won’t be here long.”
“Oh.” She looked at them with dark eyes so guileless he immediately knew she was up to something. “Are you sure you won’t have one of Marie’s petit fours? They’ll melt in your mouth, I swear.”
The look in Balcher’s eyes made Aiden wonder whether he was craving a cake, or Christina. Something dark and hungry rose in Aiden, taking him by surprise. He didn’t need her here. She was a distraction from his true purpose, both professionally and personally. Was he hard enough to send her away?
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the man said, clearing a spot on a side table so Christina could set down the laden tray. “I’m Leo Balcher, the owner of Crystal Cotton.”
Hands finally empty, she extended one to their guest with all the graciousness of an antebellum hostess. “Hello, I’m Christina. Aiden’s wife.”
Eyes widening, the man looked from one to the other. “I was under the impression that all the Blackstone boys were single. Where’d he snag a pretty filly like you?”
Aiden’s irritation kept growing, but he couldn’t decide if it was directed at Balcher or at her. Or himself. He’d been on edge since the moment he’d left his bed with her in it. The days of deprivation since then hadn’t helped.
What the hell was she up to? “Christina’s a local,” he said, watching her closely.
The man seemed to think the gracious Christina might prove to be an ally. “Oh, well, I was just discussing the purchase of the mill.”
She shot a quick glance in Aiden’s direction, finally clueing him in. The woman who had dedicated her life to taking care of Lily and Marie and Nolen was concerned enough to take the weight of an entire town on her shoulders. He’d told her they’d work together, but instead of calling for her, he’d walked into this meeting alone.
Leaving her shut out.
Boy, he just kept being a bastard, didn’t he?
“Balcher,” Aiden broke in. “My grandfather is barely in the ground, and you are coming around to talk business? What was that about observing the niceties?” Aiden asked with a sardonic twist.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Christina’s shoulders relax, as if she realized he wasn’t going to send her away anytime soon.
The man wiggled back into his chair, the joints creaking under his weight.
“Well, now, you haven’t been around these parts much,” he said, his eyes shifting away from the intensity of Aiden’s stare. “I heard there wasn’t any love lost between you two. No reason for you to take over such a huge burden. After all, I doubt after living in New York City you’d be interested in settling down in the back of beyond.” He smiled again, as if his rudeness made perfect sense.
“You’re right. There wasn’t any loyalty between my grandfather and I. Quite frankly, he was a sorry excuse for a dictator.”
Balcher’s facial muscles stiffened. Aiden hoped the other man was getting an idea of who he was dealing with now. Not an old man at the end of his life, but a young businessman at the top of his game. Though Aiden didn’t want to tip his hand too quickly.
Maybe Christina would play the game, as well. She had trained her wide eyes on Balcher and was blinking as if confused. “What in the world would you want another mill for? You should have more than enough by now.”
The little vixen! Digging for information on her own. He was perfectly capable of telling Balcher the deal would never happen and escorting him to the door. When the time was right.
She didn’t trust him to do that.
Not that he blamed her. She had a huge stake in this venture. This town was her home; the people here meant a lot to her. She was justified in her interest. He just hoped she didn’t steer the conversation away from where he wanted it to go.
“Well, my dear,” Balcher was saying, matching her tone. Aiden began to feel like a drama was playing out before him, only the subtext was more interesting than the dialogue. “Competition is competition. It’s a tough market, leading to tough decisions. Every mill can’t stay in operation.”
As Balcher’s gaze inventoried the room once more, Christina eased farther into the background. Aiden’s libido kicked into gear as he saw the emotions shift on her face. The same wave that had washed over her when she was defending his helpless mother. She was so passionate when it came to protecting others. Or when she was so pissed off that she forgot to be a polite little lady.