Private Scandal

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  “Why? Are you afraid I’ll compare stories and find they don’t match?”

  He ran his hands through his hair, resisting the urge to pull it out. “What is it you want to hear? I’m trying to do what you want, what you’ve asked for. And it’s still not good enough.”

  “The only thing I want is for it to have never happened.” Emotion made her voice heavy and thick.

  “What you think happened didn’t.”

  “If that were true, you wouldn’t have tried to lie about it.” She lifted her gaze to his and the pain he saw there seared through him.

  “I am sorry it hurt you. But it wasn’t the kind of kiss you think it was. She asked me to marry her, and—”

  Megan swayed on her feet. “She proposed to you?”

  “It was a business proposal. She needs to get married without a pre-nup or her grandfather’s estate goes to some Antarctic exploration foundation.” Megan stared blankly at him, so he chose his words carefully. “I told her we couldn’t, that we were like brother and sister and she kissed me to prove me wrong. It was awkward and sad. There was nothing there to even warrant pushing her away. So I let her in and we talked over some options.”

  She plumped the pillow and set it back in place. “The best option you could come up with is pimping out your best friend?”

  Brandon held up his hands. “She’s trying to make sure the Alzheimer’s center at the family compound that her father and grandmother are in is safe. When I told her I was marrying someone else, she had to find an alternative. I think Danny has a thing for her, so it could be good for them both.”

  “But you’re not marrying anyone else. You can be her white knight. If you want to save someone, there’s your damsel.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Am I? You want to slay dragons and she’s the one in the tower, not me. I climbed down all by myself.”

  “There is nothing between me and Gemma. Never has been, never will be. What do I have to say to make you believe that?”

  “It’s a matter of too little, too late, I guess.”

  “There is nothing I could have done differently. I’ve thought about this from every angle. You disappeared as soon as it happened. I didn’t see you for months, and what happened with Gemma wasn’t even registering in my mind anymore. It meant that little to me.”

  Megan shrugged, the bored look she’d perfected masking her features. “Can I go now?”

  He couldn’t contain the growl of frustration. “I don’t know what to do or say anymore. We are completely deadlocked on this. What makes me so good at what I do is my ability to change perspective and see a way out of any situation. But with you, it’s all too personal for me to look at objectively. I’m too in love with you to risk anything happening to you. So, no, you can’t go. Anywhere.”

  Megan plopped onto the sofa, her eyes widening as she stared blankly across the room. “You don’t love me. You love having sex with me.”

  “I have loved you from long before I wanted to, and will for as long as I’m breathing. And stop minimizing our relationship. I get that you want to make me feel as bad as you did that day, but you can stop now. I feel like I’m in the middle of a tornado, my feet aren’t on the ground and there are things coming at me from all directions.

  “I invested in Carlton International for you, bought out the company for you, and forgave you for abandoning me without a word the moment I saw you were safe. I’ve done everything to try and keep you happy and safe, and it was all wrong. I just want to get back to where we were, how we were. But I don’t know how to get there while you’re seeing everything through a haze of green.”

  Megan put her elbows on her knees and brought her head to her hands. Her forehead rested in her palms, so he couldn’t see her expression. He watched her for a moment, raw and mesmerized.

  “Say something,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know if I actually believe you, or if I just want to,” she replied without looking up.

  His shoulders relaxed with the relief that for once, she’d listened long enough to hear what he had to say.

  How many times had her mother bought the same lines? Had a similar speech propelled her mother to abandon her life and her children?

  Megan wanted Brandon to be sincere more than she wanted her next breath, but she feared he’d just managed to find the right words to unlock her defenses once more.

  Her mind warned her not to be stupid, but she was so confused. She didn’t know if she’d be stupid to believe him after what she’d witnessed, or stupid not to after knowing him for so long. And loving him so desperately, she’d been willing to take only what he offered and ask for nothing more. She wasn’t that carefree girl anymore, and she worried he’d be disappointed to find the complicated woman that had taken her place.

  Megan pushed her fingers against her scalp, wanting there to be some way she could be sure either way. But she’d learned these last few months that there were no guarantees in life, no way of knowing if anything were as real as it felt.

  She’d have to trust again at some point, but she didn’t know if she wanted it to be now, to be Brandon. He had such power, not just over her financially, but the power to destroy her very soul by simply taking back those three words she’d waited years to hear him to say outside of the bedroom.

  The couch dipped beside her as he sat and an ache rolled through her body. Instincts warred in her confused mind. One part of her was so delighted by his words she wanted to reach for him, to take comfort in his touch the way she had so often before. But another part of her was absolutely terrified that now, even making love with him would be dangerous.

  He placed a hand on her knee and she drew in a shaky breath, willing away the tears prickling at her closed eyelids. Things were so much clearer when she could be angry at him, but now love and desire were washing away her anger, bringing her dangerously close to the shore she always washed up on when life got to be too much.

  It was always Brandon she turned to, he was always where she ran. And yet, when she’d needed him most he hadn’t been there for her. It was a lesson she’d learned, that she needed to depend more on herself and less on him. But was it a lesson that meant she could never again turn to him?

  Was what he’d done a mistake she could live with, or was it something that would stay between them forever?

  And would she even be sitting here considering it if he hadn’t said “I love you”.

  Brandon cleared his throat. “Why don’t we go take a bath? Maybe it will relax you enough to get some rest.”

  Megan pressed on her eyes to make sure no wetness betrayed her before looking over at Brandon. “Sex would only confuse me more, not less.”

  The muscles of his shoulders bunched as he shrugged. “We used to sit in the tub until the water was cold. I was thinking about that.”

  “We haven’t done that in years.” She wiped her fingers under her eyes, remembering that she’d put on makeup trying to make Brandon think she was going out. “Why don’t we sleep on it. Separately.”

  “Megan, we can share a bed and not have sex.”

  She swallowed a sad laugh. “We never have before.”

  “Sure we have.”

  She stood and brushed her hands on the skirt of her dress. “Only if we’d already worn ourselves out somewhere else.”

  “That can’t be true.” From the puzzled look on his face she saw he really believed it.

  “If you can give me one instance, I’ll follow you right now.” She met his gaze and held it, knowing the truth with full certainty.

  His brows knit together as she watched him try to think of a solitary time they’d managed to keep their hands and bodies to themselves. His face fell and his eyes closed as he realized there weren’t any.

  He shook his head as he looked up at her. “I’m an asshole.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “To be fair, I just didn’t show up if I wasn’t interested. And there were times it was the re
ason why I showed up. I think sex calmed my insecurities about me, about us.” His concerned expression showed she wasn’t lightening the mood as much as she’d hoped. “Cheer up. It’s not every day closet nymphomaniacs find each other.”

  “Megan, it’s not funny.”

  “Okay.” She drew out the word and twisted her hands in front of her. Brandon rose and wrapped her in his arms so quickly that she wouldn’t even have had time to squirm away if she’d wanted to.

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on like it did. I just took what you offered and never stopped to think about why. I was immature and selfish and wrong. Just wrong. I should have stopped the game years ago. I just thought that if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it, but that’s what broke us. It was my ideal situation and I never once stopped to think what it was doing to you. I took you for granted and I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

  Warning bells sounded in her head. He was saying everything, everything she’d ever wanted him to. And still she questioned why. She tried to break free of his hold, but he kept his arms around her. “You’re getting me sweaty and it will ruin my dress.”

  “You didn’t even remember you owned that dress two days ago.”

  She pushed firmly at his chest, and this time he let her step back. “Yeah, what’s with that? Have you been collecting my clothes?”

  He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “You leave your clothes on the floor, housekeeping has them cleaned, and my closet is full.”

  “My lingerie used to be in your closet. Was that the only thing you wanted me to wear?”

  “This is where I’m supposed to say no, right?” His dark eyes twinkled as he grinned.

  She returned his smile, relieved to have lifted the mood. “We agreed you were done lying to me, so best to play it straight. Besides, with as much money as you spend on lingerie, you either like it, or you wear it when I’m not around.”

  His laugh warmed her heart, but the way his stomach muscles rippled heated her body. Which was not a good idea because he would take any move in that direction as confirmation that she believed him and wanted to be with him, permanently.

  “You should go to bed. I’m sure you have a busy day scheduled. I need to email Ava an inventory of the handbags, but I’ll wait on the pictures for now. Can I use the computer up here?”

  She watched him stiffen at the question and ice once again clogged her veins. She’d been right to hold back. He obviously still didn’t trust her.

  “What do you think I’m going to do, Brandon? Email my father from your computer? Call up dear old dad with some tidbit I lift off your hard drive?”

  “That’s not it, Meg.” He looked like he had more to say, but she didn’t care to hear it.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, my parents don’t care what happens to any of their daughters. I know you can’t wrap your head around that, but they stopped paying attention to what we did a long time ago. My family isn’t like yours. There was never a whole lot of substance behind the public image. Neither of my parents have contacted any of us, and I doubt they will.”

  Fear niggled at her that she was speaking the truth. She could do without her father, but the idea of never hearing from her mother again made her jaw tremble, so she clenched her teeth together.

  He reached for her and she recoiled, not wanting to get sucked into believing things would ever be normal between them again. She crossed to his desk and snatched a few sheets of paper from the printer. Intent on finding a pen, she tugged on the desk drawer only to find it locked. She cursed and looked up at him.

  “Why do you even want me here if you feel the need to lock everything up? What was your plan when you leave for work? Do I get a babysitter to keep from stealing from you? I’m good enough to share your bed, but God forbid I might want some office supplies.”

  He cursed under his breath and clenched his jaw as he stalked towards her. Her shoulders tensed as he neared, but she didn’t want to run. She’d suspected he was hiding the truth for months, and now that she’d caught him again, she didn’t want to give him time to think up yet another alibi.

  “Are you just saying what you think I want to hear? Trying to get me to trust you so that you can use me as some kind of bait to lure out my father? Well, you’ve got the wrong daughter for that. I doubt he’d cross the street for me.”

  Brandon reached out and wrapped his hands around her upper arms. Her whole body clenched as she closed her eyes and held her breath, sure he was going to shake her like a rag doll. He forced her down and plopped her into the leather executive chair that rolled backwards under the force. She gripped the arms of the chair as it knocked back into the wall.

  “Not another word,” Brandon said through clenched teeth. He fired up the computer and then lifted the keyboard, pulling off a key that had been taped there. He jammed the key into the lock, turned it and jerked the drawer open so fast the pens and pencils inside shook. He plucked out two small robin-egg blue boxes and slammed them onto the desktop before banging the drawer shut.

  If she hadn’t been holding her breath, she would have gasped at the sight. Instead, she made a choking sound and closed the mouth she hadn’t realized had dropped open. Brandon cocked his hip against the desk and cut his gaze between her and the computer monitor and back again. The whir of the machine and the drumming of his fingers on the desktop sounded as loud to her ears as an airplane preparing for takeoff.

  Her picture lit up the screen as the desktop loaded. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a snapshot of her eyes peeking out from behind the duvet of his bed. The day they’d had a little too much fun with the camera flashed in her mind and heat flickered throughout her body.

  The confusion of the moment, of her life lately, crashed around her mind. Her fingernails dug into the arms of the chair, trying to find some way to center herself in the real world.

  “You said you deleted those pictures. I watched you do it.” Her pulse pounded in her ears, fear warring with excitement. They’d played with the camera, but it was never meant to be more than that, never supposed to be something either of them would look at later.

  “Oh, for God’s sake Megan.” He grabbed the camera she’d taken from the closet off the desk and turned it on. Icons popped up on the computer, freckling her photo but not blocking it completely.

  He held out the camera to her and she pulled back involuntarily. She didn’t need pictures to remember what they’d done.

  “Look for yourself. They’re all gone except that one. Not everyone would recognize you with most of your face covered, so I saved it. I get to be reminded of us and you get to keep your privacy.”

  She didn’t take the camera. “Other people have seen it?”

  He shrugged and set the camera down. “Probably not. I rarely hold meetings up here. Still, sometimes it’s called for and you never know who might walk behind you when you’re working, so I figured it was safer than these.” He leaned towards the computer and worked the mouse until a file popped up, displaying dozens of pictures of her.

  Megan closed her eyes, not wanting to see her former life in thumbnail shots. Her mind spun faster than a tilt-a-whirl and she was struggling to tell reality from illusion. She wasn’t strong enough to suffer another blow like she had on her birthday.

  With her entire soul, she wanted to believe he wasn’t playing her for a fool, but the risk of being wrong would shatter her. It might not technically be a fatal wound, but with as tenuous as her grip on her old self was, it would kill the girl she used to be.

  “There you go.” The keyboard clicked under Brandon’s fingers and she opened her eyes to see him staring down at her. He pursed his lips together and pushed a long breath through his nose. “If you don’t want it, don’t want me, you should go. You can take whatever you want, but do it quickly. I won’t follow you. I’m all in, Meg. I don’t have another hand to play.”

  He turned on his heel and bounded down the stairs, leaving her alone with two ring boxes and
a computer folder with her name on it. She leaned closer to the monitor, reading the names of the files until they ricocheted around in her head.

  Pictures.

  Gift ideas.

  Proposal.

  Wedding.

  Honeymoon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brandon braced his hands on the slick marble tile and hung his head, letting the spray of the showerheads pound his body. His throat ached, his eyes throbbed behind closed lids, and his chest was tight with anxiety.

  He’d lied to her. Again.

  He’d been so exposed, instinct had him trying to protect himself. He wouldn’t want to follow her if she fled, but he wouldn’t be able to let her go. He’d probably chase her for the rest of his miserable life. Nothing would ever be able to stop him, not even the embarrassing awareness that she knew exactly how much he wanted her, how much time and effort he’d spent planning a life with her. But of course, most of that had been done while he was oblivious to what an asshole he’d been to her for the last seven years.

  Until a few hours ago, he’d always thought he was good to her. Now he saw that he was good to himself, never thinking Megan might need more than fidelity and generosity to be happy. He’d taken her at her word that she wanted a fun, private affair, and in so doing he’d taken advantage of her. If he really knew her as well as he thought, if he truly loved her unselfishly, he should have seen that she needed more a long time ago.

  And now she wouldn’t even let him make it up to her. He’d hurt her so badly, so deeply that everything he did seemed to reopen the wound. He couldn’t see a way out of the mess that he’d made of both their lives unless she was able to forgive him. It was the only way he’d ever be able to forgive himself.

  The glass shower door clicked and adrenaline shot through his veins. He lifted his head to see Megan holding the door open, as bare to him as he was to her. Relief washed over him with the warm water and his heart went all hot and gooey like one of those molten chocolate cakes she liked so much.