Pretty Broken Promises: An Unconventional Love Story
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“Don’t get all prickly with me,” Xavier said, affecting a wounded tone. “You agreed to this last year.”
“I did not.” Irritation sharpened my tone. I had nothing against giving back to the community, but I needed to find Dakota and get her away from Blackwood.
“No, no, you can’t back out!” Mimi’s lips formed an O. She pressed a hand to her breast. “It’s too late.”
I glared at Xavier. “Fine. I’ll do it, but I blame you for this.”
“Of course you do.” He smoothed the satin lapels of his jacket, features brightening, his tone placating. “And that’s why you’re giving me a raise.”
“Don’t count on it,” I replied, knowing full well that I would.
Mimi hooked her arm through my elbow and smiled brightly. “Great. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
“Find my wife,” I said to Xavier. “And have her meet me backstage. Pronto.”
As it turned out, Xavier didn’t have to find Dakota. She was already backstage. With Blackwood. My blood pressure leaped twenty points at the sight of the cheap-suit-wearing, butt-kissing, backstabber standing next to my wife. Most of the time, other men’s interest in Dakota amused me. But not this time. Not tonight. Our time together was precious, and I had the curious sensation that she was slipping away from me. Two long strides brought me to her side. I didn’t take the time to analyze the root cause of my irritation. I only sought to claim what was mine from his money-grubbing slimy fingers.
Blackwood caught my glare. “Seaforth, I was just telling your wife about some of our escapades in college.”
Dakota turned soft, liquid eyes to meet mine. An amused smile bowed her lips. My heart melted for the thousandth time. She embodied everything I ever wanted in life for myself and for our children. That smile belonged to me. Screw Blackwood.
“Whatever he’s telling you, you can’t believe it,” I said, only half joking. My college years had been a dark period. Fast women and excessive partying had provided a distraction from our divorce. Looking back on that time threatened to reopen the freshly healed wound of heartbreak, something I didn’t care to do. Not now, when we’d come so far, when life looked rosier than ever.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Dakota said. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”
I tried to dissect her tone, to determine if she was teasing or serious.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” Mimi wedged her body between us. Fran, pseudo date at her side, joined the group. Our eyes met above the others’ heads. Aside from Dakota, I trusted Fran more than anyone else in the room. Warning sparked in her gaze. I nodded in acknowledgment.
A dozen other victims clustered around the stage entrance, waiting for their turn at the auction block. Although I hated being put on display, the event would garner a pretty sum for my mother’s charity. Anticipation vibrated through the dimly lit room. Makeup artists flitted from person to person. One of them tried to powder my face. I brushed her hand away. Dakota laughed. My heart skipped a beat at the lilting sound.
“Mimi Barrett, this is my wife, Dakota.” Mimi continued to flutter at my elbow like a pesky fly.
Her posture stiffened. “Oh? Of course you are. I should have known from your dress. Everyone is talking about it.”
“And what are they saying?” The smile slipped from Dakota’s lips.
“Yes, what are they saying?” Fran insinuated herself into the conversation. “I’d be interested to know, since it’s one of mine.”
Mimi’s fair skin turned bright red. Blackwood laughed a little too loudly, while Dakota narrowed her eyes in my direction. Bitsy ended the situation by clapping her hands and calling the chaos to order. Before I could draw Dakota aside, Bitsy shooed them all out the door.
Chapter 12
DAKOTA
I FOUND a place on the edge of the room to watch the auction. When Sam took the stage, an electric thrill jolted through my womb. He embodied everything a man should be: strong, intelligent, and trustworthy. I bit my lower lip and listened to the bids climb higher for the first volunteer. I hadn’t known about the auction. Part of me felt annoyed. We’d barely spent a dozen waking hours together over the past month. Now his precious time would be sold to the highest bidder, and once again, I’d be forced to step into the shadows. Guilt nudged away the jealousy. This money would go to a fantastic cause, to someone who needed it, and we had the rest of our lives to spend together.
“He’s perfected the brooding look, hasn’t he?” the woman in front of me said to her female companion.
“I bet I could make him smile,” said the companion. Both women laughed.
“Are you forgetting he’s married?”
“Details, details.” The woman waved a dismissive hand through the air. “If he’s anything like his father, one woman won’t be enough for him.”
“Someone said he married the cook’s daughter. Can you believe it?”
“I know, right? That woman hit the jackpot.”
“I heard Maxwell was livid. Poor man. He’s knee deep in financial issues and now he has to worry about his son’s marriage to a gold digger.”
After all these years, I should’ve been accustomed to the negative perception of others about our marriage. However, the insult still hurt. Indignation flooded me with heat, followed in quick succession by the sting of tears and a rush of anger. I blamed the abrupt mood swing on pregnancy hormones. I opened my mouth to make a sharp retort but stopped at the touch of a hand to my back.
“Easy now.” Blackwood’s deep voice buzzed in my ear. He cleared his throat, and the two women swiveled to face us. “Ladies, have you met Dakota Seaforth? Sam’s wife?”
Their smiles disappeared.
“I’m the gold digger,” I said, my tolerance stretched to the limit.
“Um, how—how lovely to m-m-meet you,” stammered the first woman.
“It’s a pleasure,” replied the second woman. Her blush matched the rose color of her gown. “I’m so sorry if you overheard our comments. We didn’t mean—”
I cut her off. “I know exactly what you meant. And yes, I’m the cook’s daughter.”
“Please accept our deepest apologies.” The women backed away, fear in their eyes. I glared until they disappeared into the sea of people.
“Don’t let them get to you.” Blackwood’s lips curled in an amused smile. “They hate all of us commoners. If they think they’ve drawn blood, they’ll tear you to shreds.”
“I’d like to tear them to shreds,” I muttered.
He gazed down at me from his tall height, taking stock of my clenched fists and braced legs. “I believe you could, too.” The anger slipped away, and exhaustion replaced it. A vein began to throb between my temples. At this point, I’d grown weary of all the subterfuge. “You might be the cook’s daughter, but you are also one of the most powerful women in this room. And they hate that. You’ve done what none of them could do. You captured Samuel Seaforth.”
“I didn’t capture him. You make it sound like I hunted him down with a net or something.” A bit of my good humor began to return at this absurd concept. Like anyone could “capture” a man as elusive as Sam.
“Maybe not, but look at poor Mimi over there, bidding her entire trust fund for an hour with your husband. She’s been dying to get her claws into Sam ever since they fucked in the coat closet.” His shoulders shook with laughter. “He must have a magic dick or something.”
Jealousy licked at the edges of my self-control. I drew in a deep breath, hoping to clear my head, but the fire only burned hotter. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Blackwood’s eyes widened. “You didn’t know. I thought everyone knew. But of course you didn’t. I’m an idiot. Forget I mentioned it.”
“You can’t drop a bomb like that and leave me hanging. Spill it.”
Blackwood blinked. To his credit, he looked genuinely ashamed. “It was years ago. Maybe you should ask your husband.”
The
thought of my husband in a coat closet with anyone but me caused my hands to tremble. I drew my shoulders back and lifted my chin. Before I could ask Sam anything, I’d have to wrangle time alone with him. A plan formed in the back of my mind. I gave Blackwood a polite smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.”
Chapter 13
SAM
I BLINKED under the spotlights while the emcee rattled off a list of my accomplishments. Even to my own ears, I sounded like a stuffed shirt. Who in hell would want to spend an hour with a boring, uptight ass like me? Apparently quite a few people, because the bidding paddles began to flash right away. Not just women, but men, too, looking for an opportunity to bend my ear about their latest business venture, hoping to attach my name to their cause.
Once my eyes adjusted to the lights, I scanned the audience for Dakota. I found her on the edge of the dance floor beside Blackwood. He bent low to whisper in her ear, his gaze on me the entire time, taunting me. Dakota’s expression of tolerant amusement morphed into something entirely different. Her eyes narrowed, and a tiny dent formed between her brows. I’d seen that look before, and it usually meant I’d done something stupid. Again. Whatever he’d told her didn’t bode well for my marital status.
“Five thousand dollars from the young lady in the pink dress.” The auctioneer pointed to Mimi.
Christ. At the moment, I couldn’t think of anything worse than being trapped in a restaurant with Mimi Barrett. I turned to Xavier, who hovered at the edge of the velvet curtain. Do something, I mouthed to him. He shrugged and lifted his palms to face the ceiling.
“Come on, folks. Open up your wallets. You can do better than this.”
Ten thousand, fifteen thousand… The bid continued to rise with Mimi holding fast. Twenty thousand. The other contenders dropped out, leaving Mimi to battle against a telephone bidder.
“Sold for thirty thousand dollars to the anonymous caller.” The auctioneer banged his gavel on the podium.
A pout distorted Mimi’s features. She scowled and pushed her way through the crowd toward her mother.
“What an amazing start to the night,” the emcee exclaimed. He rushed forward to shake my hand. “The other participants are going to have a lot to live up to tonight.”
“Tell me that was you,” I said to Xavier as I strode off the stage.
“Not me.” He shook his head. A curl broke loose and fell over his left temple, reminiscent of an errant poodle.
“Find out who it is.” At least I had some time to mentally prepare myself for the luncheon. The door banged in my wake as I made haste toward the dance floor. Dakota avoided eye contact when I found her. Blackwood remained at her elbow. His lips smiled, while his eyes crackled with animosity. I wanted to snap him in half.
“Would you excuse me for a minute?” Dakota ducked her head. “I need to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”
Blackwood and I turned in unison to watch her walk away. He let out a low whistle. “You’ve got yourself a prize there, Seaforth.”
“Yes, I do.”
“If I had a woman like that, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave her alone in a place like this.” He swooped a champagne flute off the nearest waiter’s tray and downed it in one gulp then grabbed another.
“Dakota can hold her own.” His nonchalant shrug pissed me off even more, if that was possible.
“Don’t worry. I was looking out for her while you were chatting up your daddy.” He cocked his head, gaze assessing.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I kept my focus trained on the hall where Dakota had disappeared.
“I have every right to be here. I’m a major contributor to this charity. Bitsy might be a snob, but she’s dazzled by my checkbook, like every other woman.”
“Not every woman,” I said, thinking of Dakota.
“Okay. Most women.” He faced the opposite direction but remained close enough to carry on the conversation.
“What do you want, Blackwood?” I’d known him long enough to understand that like my father, he never did anything without an agenda.
Our eyes met, and I recognized the spark of naked ambition in his gaze. He smiled and nodded at the governor and his wife as they passed us. “That’s easy. I want what you’ve got.”
Dakota exited the hall and headed toward us. Strains of a jaunty waltz, heavy with strings and woodwinds, floated in the air. Couples moved onto the dance floor. Opportunity gleamed in Blackwood’s gaze as Dakota closed the distance between us. Mimi made a beeline in my direction. As her mouth opened to request a dance, I took her hand and placed it on Blackwood’s forearm at the same time he extended his hand toward Dakota.
“Mimi, have you met Cameron Blackwood? Blackwood, take her around the dance floor, would you?”
His eyes narrowed then he nodded. “I would love to,” Blackwood said before Mimi could speak. Even though he was a snake, he had too much good grace to embarrass Mimi by declining my invitation.
“Shall we?” I offered my arm to Dakota. She accepted, although her posture remained stiff. I moved her into position. My hand found its place on the small of her back.
“I thought you couldn’t dance,” she said.
“I never said I couldn’t dance. I said I don’t dance.” We drifted into an easy rhythm, our bodies accustomed to moving as one. She continued to avoid my gaze, watching some indefinable point in the distance above my shoulder. We made an entire lap of the dance floor before she spoke again.
“I’m surprised you passed up a chance to dance with Mimi,” Dakota said.
“Who?”
“You know who. Coat-Room-Mimi.” Her lips pressed into a tight line.
“Ah.” An icy finger of panic stroked up my spine. “I told you to stay away from Blackwood.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“There’s nothing to tell.” The music slowed to a romantic melody. I tightened my grip on her waist, pulling her against my chest.
“You had sex with her.” She struggled against my hold, but I remained firm.
“Once. A million years ago.”
“You should have told me, so I was prepared.”
“Really?” I arched an eyebrow. “Do you want a list of everyone I’ve had sex with?”
“Yes.” A pink glow of confusion lit her cheeks. For the first time, she met my eyes then glanced away. “No. No, definitely not.” She bit her lower lip before speaking again. “It caught me off guard. I just wish I’d had a little warning, that’s all.”
“If you had stayed away from Blackwood like I told you, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t left me alone all evening, I would have. In case you haven’t noticed, and I’m sure you haven’t, he was the only person besides Venetia and Fran who would talk to me.”
For the first time that evening, I noticed the defeated slump to her shoulders. I was accustomed to the venomous remarks and duplicitous behavior of these people, but Dakota wasn’t. I’d left her unprotected and unprepared for a night among the richest of the rich. It was my duty as her husband to shield her, and once again, I’d failed.
“Shit,” I muttered. My feet stopped moving. She glanced up, eyes wide with uncertainty. I held her tighter. “You’re right.”
Before I could apologize, she pulled out of my arms, hiked up her gown, and darted toward the nearest hall. I had no idea a woman in high heels could run that fast. I sprinted after her, following her into the ladies’ room to the detriment of the woman applying lipstick at the mirror. Dakota made it to the toilet in time to vomit up the contents of her stomach. I held her hair while she wretched three more times. With a damp towel, I gently wiped her mouth.
“Baby, are you okay?” Fear chilled my limbs. I’d never seen her sick in all the years I’d known her. I guided her to one of the velvet chairs in the waiting area and crouched in front of her.
“I—I think so.” She passed a shaking hand over her mouth. “Better now.”
“No. I’m fine. It’s been happening.” A sheepish smile twitched her lips. “Most people have morning sickness, but it seems I’ve got night sickness.”
“Oh.” A dozen emotions warred with each other inside my head: guilt, wonder, concern. I’d been gone too much to know about the sickness, and I had to wonder how many other details I’d missed. I traced a hand over her cheek then drew my thumb over her lower lip. “I’ll call Rockwell. We’re going home.”
I extended a hand and helped her to her feet. Chandler met us at the end of the hall, proving his worth. We circumvented the ballroom and went straight to the entrance. Maxwell and Rayna were waiting there as well. Good old Dad came straight for us.
“Everything alright?” he asked. His gaze flitted from Dakota’s pallid face to mine.
“We’re fine,” I said and curled an arm around Dakota’s waist, holding her closer. Our limo arrived, and Rockwell opened the door for us. Dakota slid inside.
“Good. Glad to hear it.” Maxwell straightened the knot in his tie. “I meant to ask you earlier—Rayna and I would like to invite you both to the house. To discuss the fate of Seaforth Industries. I’ve made some decisions about the business.”
The thought of returning to my childhood home put a knot in my gut. I hadn’t been home since my mother had passed away, and I had no intention of ever returning. Aside from the time I’d spent there with Dakota, the place held few fond memories. “That would be a no.”
“You don’t have to answer right now. Think about it.” Maxwell’s Bentley arrived, sleek and ostentatious. The liveried chauffeur opened the passenger door for Rayna and extended a hand to help her inside.
“Nothing to think about,” I replied and ducked into the car.
Chapter 14
SAM
DAKOTA THREW up twice in the limousine and once more when we reached home.