by Maisey Yates
“Okay,” she said, gasping for air, “we have to talk and not just have sex. The sex is fine between us. We, on the other hand, have problems.”
“True,” he said, breathing heavy.
“So why are you here?”
“Because I have spent the past month drunk and miserable. Because every time I think about never seeing our baby I want to die. And every time I think about never seeing you again...Rachel, I start praying for death to come quickly.”
“Why?” she asked, her throat tight.
“Because I love you. With every broken, miserable piece of myself. And I realized this weeks ago but I kept thinking it wasn’t fair to ask you to spend the rest of your life with a man like me. But...but I have to be selfish now and ask that you do. That you spend your life with me because if you don’t then I’m not sure what my life means at all.”
“Alex, why do you think you aren’t worthy of me?” she asked. “I am... I’m not perfect. And I’ve fought to get to the place where I could say that and just be okay with it. I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes. And I’ll make more mistakes. I don’t want a perfect man because I could never live up to those standards.”
“I would give you a better man,” he said.
“With all due respect,” she said, “you’re a jackass.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what I need. I know who I am. I don’t need better. There isn’t better for me. For me, there’s you. That’s it. Alex, the moment I saw you I fell in love with you. Is that crazy? I would have thought it was crazy until five months ago when I saw you standing there, on a yacht. And you made me want things I never knew I needed.”
He pulled her to him, crushed her against him, taking a sharp breath. “Me, too. Rachel, that was the moment for me, too. When you were standing there looking at me, so awkward and obviously attracted.”
“Hey.”
“It’s true. You were. But it’s okay, because that was the moment. When I knew that I needed you. I didn’t know then that I needed you forever. I thought an hour. A night. I didn’t know how much it would change me. But it did. And then you kept changing me these last few months. Even when you weren’t there. Even when all that was left of you was how much I missed you.”
“Why did it take you so long?” she asked. “Why did it take this long for you to know you loved me?”
“It was the one thing I’d never had before. I loved my mother, Rachel, but I didn’t know what it was like to have her love me back. Not really. I didn’t understand love as a living thing. As something that could give. She took. I gave. And in the end I was left devastated because...she ended herself rather than be with me, Rachel.”
“Alex...it wasn’t you. She had so many problems, honey, but they weren’t you.”
“I know,” he said. “I do now.”
“I’m glad. I’m so glad.”
“Ajax helped me with that. He...he made me see. I hated him for what he had, without trying to find out why he’d been able to get it. Love. And when he told me that...it all made sense. Love is different than I thought. The love I feel for you has demanded that I change, that I give, that I sacrifice. And it makes me burn. Makes me want. Makes me hurt. Makes me so happy I... It’s happiness like I never thought I could have. I had no idea what to call it, no idea what to do with it. It’s love. And it’s the most terrifying, wonderful thing I’ve ever felt before. And if you feel the same for me, if you want to do this—for the rest of our lives, knowing who I am, where I’ve been—then I can only be grateful. I can only try and become the man I think you deserve.”
“Just be the man you are, Alex. That’s the beginning and end of all I want from you. Because it’s the freedom you gave to me. And it might seem like a small thing but...Alex, don’t you see that you set me free? I feel like I was trapped in someone else’s body, desperately trying to live up to an ideal I didn’t even want to be and afraid I was failing miserably at it. You are... You are amazing. What you’ve given me is amazing. There is no better man to me than the man who simply wants me. As I am.”
“I am that man,” he said, kissing her cheek. “That I promise you. I want all that you are. All that you will be. We’ll both keep changing, but we’ll change together. Whatever life has in store for us, I think we can meet the challenge head on, as long as we’re together.”
“I think so, too.”
“So, when are we getting married?”
“Not for at least six months,” she said.
“What?”
“I need time to plan it. I love you and this is for life. And you love me. This is a real wedding. Also, I don’t dig the pregnant bride look, I’ve decided.”
“You’re going to make me wait, Rachel?”
She smiled, her heart swelling. “For some things, Alex. Not for others.”
* * *
A long time later they lay in her bed, limbs tangled, breathing hard. She was tracing his biceps with her fingertips, a smile on his lips. Yes, she loved this man, more than anything. Their start had been rocky at best, but they had forever ahead of them.
“You know, if we can make it through all of this, I think we can make it through anything,” she said.
“I agree.”
“Just as long as we’re honest, from now on.”
“In the interest of honesty then,” he said, “may I say, I think your breasts have gotten larger. I like it.”
“Wow. Romantic.”
“Maybe not. But honest.”
“Appreciated.”
Suddenly, she flashed back to that evening they’d eaten pizza in a fancy hotel in Cannes. When he’d talked about happy endings. “You got your happy ending,” she whispered.
He kissed her on the cheek and she could have sworn he left a teardrop behind. “It’s not over yet.”
“No,” she said, snuggling closer. “It’s not. And thank God for that.”
“Yes. I get a whole lifetime with you. With ups and downs, with every emotion. But it will be with you.”
She kissed his forearm and held his arms more tightly to her. “That’s much better than any old happy ending.”
He sighed, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I agree, agape. I agree.”
EPILOGUE
“IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING,” Leah said.
“And it happened,” Ajax added.
“You’re sensitive as a blunt instrument,” Leah said, beaming at her husband.
Ajax shrugged and turned to face Alex, who was standing there in a tux, his tie undone, his two-month-old son wrapped in a blanket and nestled in his arms. “Am I insensitive, little brother?”
Alex shrugged and looked down at his son. Liam didn’t care that his parents had just gotten married. He was at peace, as he always was, everything in his world right. Alex’s heart swelled with love, with pride. That his son had so much family to love him. That his life would be so much more beautiful than his or Ajax’s had ever been.
That he would never know the harsh criticism of a mother the way that Rachel had. Never feel like he had to rebel or close up completely, rather than being who he wanted. That he would never wonder if he was loved at all. They told him every day.
“Yes, but it’s part of your charm.”
“Don’t encourage him, Alex,” Leah said.
Rachel returned then, on her father’s arm. They had just finished their dance and Rachel was beaming. Her figure was still fuller than it had been before giving birth, her cheeks round. He loved it.
“How nice,” Joseph Holt said, “to have all my children, and my grandson together in one place.”
Alex’s heart tightened as he looked around at his family. “Yes, it is,” he said.
“Do you mind if I steal my grandson for a moment?” Joseph ask
ed. “I’ll trade you your bride for him.”
“A deal.”
He handed Liam to the older man, then took Rachel’s hand, leading her out to the lit dance floor. “This wedding was much more you, wasn’t it?” he asked, looking around at the simple décor. At the bright colors. It exuded joy. Just like his wife.
“Yes,” she said. “But then, with you, I am much more me.”
He kissed her nose. “I’m glad. I’m certainly a better me. It’s amazing what can happen inside you when you start to understand love. When you replace anger with it.”
“I’m glad you did, Alex, because you have so much love to give.”
“I’ve never been as happy as I am today,” he said, his wife in his arms, his son nearby.
“Then we have a new goal,” she said.
“What is that?”
“To find even greater happiness, every day. As long as we live.”
“With you, Rachel, that won’t be hard at all.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from SECRETS OF A RUTHLESS TYCOON by Cathy Williams.
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CHAPTER ONE
IN THE DIMINISHING light, Leo Spencer was beginning to question his decision to make this trip. He looked up briefly from the report blinking at him on his laptop and frowned at the sprawling acres of countryside reaching out on either side to distant horizons which had now been swallowed up by the gathering dusk.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his driver to put his foot down, but what would be the point? How much speed would Harry be able to pick up on these winding, unlit country roads, still hazardous from the recent bout of snow which was only now beginning to melt? The last thing he needed was to end up in a ditch somewhere. The last car they had passed had been several miles back. God only knew where the nearest town was.
He concluded that February was, possibly, the very worst month in which to have undertaken this trip to the outer reaches of Ireland. He had failed to foresee the length of time it would take to get to his destination and he now cursed the contorted reasoning that had made him reject the option of flying there on the company plane.
The flight to Dublin had been straightforward enough but, the minute he had met his driver outside the airport, the trip had evolved into a nightmare of traffic, diversions and, as they’d appeared to leave all traces of civilisation behind, a network of bleak, perilous roads made all the more threatening by the constant threat of snow. It hung in the air like a death shroud, biding its time for just the right unsuspecting mug to come along.
Giving up on all hope of getting anything useful done, Leo snapped shut his laptop and stared at the gloomy scenery.
The rolling hills were dark contours rising ominously up from flat fields in which lurked a honeycomb network of lakes, meandering streams and rivers, none of which was visible at this time of the late afternoon. Leo was accustomed to the almost constant artificial light of London. He had never had much time for the joys of the countryside and his indifference to it was rapidly being cemented with each passing mile.
But this was a trip that had to be undertaken.
When he reflected on the narrative of his life, he knew that it was an essential journey. The death of his mother eight months previously—following so shortly after his father’s own unexpected demise from a heart attack whilst, of all things, he had been playing golf with his friends—had left him with no excuses for avoidance. He had to find out where he really came from, who his real birth parents were. He would never have disrespected his adoptive parents when they were alive by searching out his birth family but the time had come.
He closed his eyes and the image of his own life flickered in front of him like an old-fashioned movie reel: adopted at birth by a successful and wealthy couple in their late thirties who had been unable to have children of their own; brought up with all the advantages a solid, middle-class background had to offer; private school and holidays abroad. A brilliant academic career followed by a stint at an investment bank which had been the springboard for a meteoric rise through the financial world until, at the ripe old age of thirty-two, he now had more money than he could ever hope to spend in a lifetime and the freedom to use it in the more creative arena of acquisitions.
He seemed to possess the golden touch. None of his acquisitions to date had failed. Additionally, he had been bequeathed a sizeable fortune by his parents. All told, the only grey area in a life that had been blessed with success was the murky blur of his true heritage. Like a pernicious weed, it had never been completely uprooted. Curiosity had always been there, hovering on the edges of his consciousness, and he knew that it would always be there unless he took active measures to put it to rest once and for all.
Not given to introspection of any sort, there were moments when he suspected that it had left a far-reaching legacy, despite all the advantages his wonderful adoptive parents had given him. His relationships with women had all been short-lived. He enjoyed a varied love life with some of the most beautiful and eligible women on the London scene, yet the thought of committing to any of them had always left him cold. He always used the excuse of being the kind of man whose commitment to work left little fertile ground on which a successful relationship could flourish. But there lurked the nagging suspicion that the notion of his own feckless parents dumping him on whatever passing strangers they could had fostered a deep-seated mistrust of any form of permanence, despite the sterling example his adoptive parents had set for him.
He had known for several years where he could locate his mother. He had no idea if his natural father was still on the scene—quite possibly not. The whereabouts of his mother was information that had sat, untouched, in his locked office drawer until now.
He had taken a week off work, informing his secretary that he would be contactable at all times by email or on his mobile phone. He would find his mother, make his own judgements and he would leave, putting to rest the curiosity that had plagued him over the years. He had a good idea of what he would find but it would be useful having his suspicions confirmed. He wasn’t looking for answers or touching reconciliations. He was looking for closure.
And, naturally, he had no intention of letting her know his identity. He was sinfully rich and there was nothing like money to engender all the wrong responses. There was no way he intended to have some irresponsible deadbeat who had given him up for adoption holding out a begging bowl and suddenly claiming parental love—not to mention whatever half-siblings he had who would feel free to board the gravy train.
His mouth curled derisively at the mere thought of it.
‘Any chance we could actually get this car into fifth gear?’ he asked Harry, who caught his eye in the rear-view mirror and raised his eyebrows.
‘Aren’t you appreciating the wonderful scenery, sir?’
‘You’ve been with me for eight years, Harry. Have I ever given any indication that I like the countryside?’ Harry, strangely, was the only one in whom Leo had confided. They shared an uncommonly strong bond. Leo would have trusted his driver with his life. He certainly trusted him with thoughts he never would have shared with another living soul.
‘There’s always a first, sir,’ Harry sugg
ested calmly. ‘And, no, there is no way I can drive any faster. Not on these roads. And have you noticed the sky?’
‘In passing.’
‘Snow’s on the way, sir.’
‘And I’m hoping that it will delay its arrival until I’m through...doing what I have to do.’ From where he was sitting, it was hard to see where the sky met the open land. It was all just a black, formless density around them. Aside from the sound of the powerful engine of the car, the silence was so complete that, with eyes closed, anyone could be forgiven for thinking that they were suffering sensory deprivation.
‘The weather is seldom obedient, sir. Even for a man like yourself who is accustomed to having his orders obeyed.’
Leo grinned. ‘You talk too much, Harry.’
‘So my better half often tells me, sir. Are you certain you don’t require my services when we reach Ballybay?’
‘Quite certain. You can get a cab driver to deliver the car back to London and the company plane will return you to your better half. I’ve alerted my secretary to have it on standby; she’ll text you where. Make sure you tell my people to have it ready and waiting for when I need to return to London. I have no intention of repeating this journey by car any time soon.’
‘Of course, sir.’
Leo flipped back open the laptop and consigned all wayward thoughts of what he would find when he finally arrived to the furthermost outer reaches of his mind. Losing yourself in pointless speculation was a waste of time.
It was two hours by the time he was informed that they were in Ballybay. Either he had missed the main part of the town or else there was nothing much to it. He could just about make out the vast stillness of a lake and then a scattering of houses and shops nestling amidst the hills and dales.
‘Is this it?’ he asked Harry, who tut-tutted in response.