The Right Bride: Book Three: The Hunted Series

by Jennifer Ryan

  Slow and gentle, he brushed his fingertips around the fullness and up over her shoulder. With a soft caress down her spine and over her hip, he cupped her bottom, squeezed the firm globe in his palm, and pressed her closer. He thrust deep and slowly retreated.

  He kissed her softly, nibbling at the line of her jaw and over her earlobe. He whispered sweet words in her ear about how beautiful she was, how soft she was, how much she pleased him.

  He moved his hand between them and found the soft, slick nub and slowly rubbed the pad of his finger in circles around and over it. She tightened around him in response to the soft caress. She called to him to jump over the edge and sail the wild sea of stars. Again, she shattered in his arms, and this time she took him with her.

  Every aftershock and contraction of her body shot through him, milking everything he had to give. He held her tight and pressed his lips to her forehead.

  At a complete loss after making love to her, he had nothing left inside him to put into words.

  He didn’t want the moment to pass because this was all they had, but it had to end. With a supreme act of will, he withdrew from her and rolled onto his back. Completely empty inside, he stared at the ceiling.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  * * *

  SHE TRACED THE outline of his body from his shoulder, over his chest, dented abs, and down his hip and thigh.

  “You are beautiful.”

  “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to say that.” He turned his head and stared at her lying beside him, right where he wanted her to stay forever.

  Lying on her side, her breasts full and round with pink nipples still hard and begging for his mouth. She had a flat stomach, her hips slightly flared from her tiny waist. Her long, strong legs were lean and tan. She had great legs. He remembered what it felt like to be buried inside her and have those legs wrapped around him. He’d never forget a moment of their time together.

  “You did tell me how beautiful you think I am.”

  “Not just me, any man with eyes.”

  Since she was lying on his arm, he cocked his elbow and ran his fingers through her hair. Soft and silky, a rich brown with strands of gold woven in between from the sun. He thought of how it looked spread on his pillow when he looked down on her.

  He needed to get out of bed. If he didn’t, he’d make love to her all day, and he couldn’t. Not because of his sated body, he had obligations and promises to keep.

  He couldn’t keep Marti. Their moment was up. His heart broke into a thousand shards. With his heart full of reluctance and sadness, he pulled his arm free and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. Eyes locked on his feet, he mourned the loss of her.

  “I have to check on Emma. Come and have cereal with us and watch cartoons.”

  She didn’t know what to say. It was like a light switch turned off in Cameron. His back to her, he stared at the floor.

  They’d made love just a minute ago. She thought everything had changed between them. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  He stood abruptly, pulled on a worn pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. He didn’t even turn back to her before walking out the bedroom door.

  CAMERON FOUND EMMA on the couch watching TV. Engrossed in the show, she didn’t notice him come out of the bedroom and sit in the chair beside her.

  “Feeling better, sweetheart?”

  “Oh, hi, Dad. Lots better. Marti took care of me.”

  “She always takes good care of you.”

  “You look sad, Daddy. What’s wrong?”

  “I want something, and I can’t have it because I was bad, and now I have to suffer the consequences.” And he was suffering. More so now he’d made love to Marti and knew exactly what he’d be missing the rest of his life.

  “You always tell me I have to fix whatever I did wrong. Say I’m sorry. Otherwise, you don’t let me have ice cream for dessert.”

  Marti was better than ice cream. He’d never get to have her again. Not just after dinner. Never.

  All of a sudden, forever seemed like a very long time.

  “Emma, I want to talk to you about something. Marti is going away. She won’t see you all the time like she does now.”

  “She already told me. She has to get back to work. She told me once you get married, she won’t be able to see me, because I’ll have a mother, and you won’t need her.”

  He wouldn’t need her. What a crock of shit. He’d need her the rest of his life. He needed her last night. He needed her two minutes ago. He needed her right now.

  “She promised if I ever need her, she’d be there for me. She doesn’t make promises she can’t keep, so I know she means it.”

  He was rubbing the back of his neck when she came out of the room. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail and dressed in a tight pair of dark jeans and a blue blouse that buttoned down the front. His gaze fell to the V of her shirt and the enticing swell of her breasts.

  Immediately responding, he shifted in the chair to accommodate his aroused body.

  He noted the small suitcase she carried and dropped in the entryway by his own bags. This was it. The end.

  Marti wasn’t sure what Cameron’s mood meant. She didn’t like this wall he’d built between them. She hoped he was just worried about talking to Shelly, since their making love had changed everything.

  “Sugar Bug, come here and let me check you out this morning.”

  Emma presented herself to Marti and stood in front of her for inspection.

  Marti leaned down and kissed the little girl’s forehead. No sign of fever. She whispered she loved her into her right ear and the left. Emma nodded each time. Her ears were clear and didn’t hurt anymore.

  “Open up.”

  Emma opened her mouth and Marti checked her throat. No redness. She tickled Emma and made her squeal with laughter.

  “All better. No fever, no earache, no sore throat. Your lungs are in perfect working order.” She scooped Emma up and plopped her down on Cameron’s lap. “Cameron, I present one healthy daughter to you.”

  Emma laughed and squealed as he continued to tickle her. He didn’t hear the knock at the door. When he looked up, Shelly stood in the entryway beside Marti. Again, that devastated look filled her face. He saw it every time he threw it in her face he and Shelly were together.

  He’d just made love to one woman, and the other he didn’t want to ever touch again.

  He looked at Shelly now and realized the resemblance to Caroline was just that, a resemblance. Never enough for him to mistake one for the other. His own mind overlaid Caroline’s image onto Shelly. Why he did that, he wasn’t sure anymore.

  “Cameron, darling, you’re home.”

  “What are you doing here, Shelly?” He hadn’t told her he was back. They had an agreement about her not coming to the penthouse until after they were married. He didn’t want to confuse Emma. That’s what he told himself. Truthfully, he’d never brought any woman to the penthouse. This was his and Emma’s place together. Now he’d not only had Marti stay over, he’d made love to her in his bed.

  He needed to find someplace else to live when he married Shelly. He couldn’t bring her here and spoil his memories. She was already doing that by showing up unannounced.

  “I heard Emma is sick, and I came to check on her.” She turned on Marti. “You can go now. Cameron is home to take care of his daughter. Your services are no longer required.”

  The words were spoken in such a normal tone, Marti didn’t get it at first. A second later it hit her. She was being dismissed like the hired help.

  Her gaze found Cameron’s. He sat staring at them both and never said a word. He didn’t defend her or tell Shelly to have some respect for a family friend. Nothing.

  “I’ll just get my shoes.”

  His eyes were drawn to her bare feet under the hem of her jeans. Her toes were painted a soft pink. He’d remember that, too, when he was missing her.

  He should ask Shelly to leave, or at least get her t
o apologize to Marti for the blatant dismissal. Unable to speak, the woman he wanted was leaving, and the one he didn’t want was staying.

  Marti was tying her tennis shoes when Cameron walked into the bedroom. “Marti, I want to thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I guess now that Shelly is here she can scratch your next itch.”

  Stunned, he couldn’t believe her words.

  “I’m not thanking you for making love with me,” he said under his breath, so no one heard them.

  “Well, that’s almost as rude as you allowing your fiancé to dismiss me like some servant. What are you going to do, Cameron, sleep with her tonight in this bed where we made love not even an hour ago?”

  “No. No one has slept in that bed, except Emma and me. I’ll burn the goddamn thing before I let another woman into that bed.”

  She stood and faced him. “The other woman is your fiancé. I want to hear you say it.”

  “What?”

  “After this morning, everything you said, making love to me, you’re still going to marry her. I want to hear you say the words.”

  No matter how determined she was to hear him say it, he didn’t want to do that to her. He’d hurt her so much already. He didn’t want to do it again. Not after what they’d shared.

  She waited, not willing to give in, let what they’d shared be enough. One day, one time with her would never be enough. He didn’t want to have to tell her it didn’t matter, he’d chosen another. It didn’t matter if the person he’d truly chosen wasn’t really Shelly.

  “I’m going to marry her.” The words held little conviction, but he bolstered his resolve by adding, “She’s carrying my child.”

  What if I’m carrying your child?

  She shook her head sadly. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. For him, the moment they’d shared was over. Nothing but a memory now, they would carry with them as they led their separate lives. It hit her hard, bit into her soul, and tore her to shreds. No matter what she said or did, he’d never change his mind.

  “I wonder what you’ll do after you marry her and discover she isn’t pregnant after all? Maybe she’ll lie and tell you she lost the baby. Maybe she’ll tell you the truth, finally—there never was a baby.”

  “If that happens, I’ll leave her and come after you.”

  “You can’t, because you already lost me.”

  “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You know, you never had me, because she’s been standing between us this whole time. I made a mistake this morning thinking you’d come to me because you changed your mind. When you said you wanted a moment, you didn’t mean a lifetime of moments. You just wanted the time it took to have one good memory. Something you can pull out and look at when you’re lonely and missing me. She’s ruined so many things between us. She’s even ruined this,” she said and threw her arms up over the bed. “All ruined over a lie.”

  “It’s not a lie. She’s pregnant with my baby.”

  “You want so much to believe she’s carrying your baby. I even understand why you want to believe it. The thought of your baby is a wonderful idea, but you’ve completely lost all reason about everything else, including me. I can’t be second anymore. I’m willing to be second to Emma, but not to her.”

  She pressed her fingertips to her mouth to hold back the sob, bit her lip, and tasted him. “I’ve made some promises to Emma. I’ll keep them. I won’t go back on my word to her. As for you, don’t call and ask me to do things for you because you want to see me. It ends now. You’ll see me when I come to fulfill my promises to Emma, but I want you to keep your distance. Be with Shelly if she’s your choice. Maybe you can train her how to be a good mother to Emma.”

  “Marti, please, don’t leave like this.”

  “You’ve left me no choice. I have no pieces left. You’ve taken them all.”

  She’d asked him before to leave her a few of the broken pieces of her heart. A heart he’d broken by not choosing her time and time again. This was the final piece. He’d made love to her, admitted to her how much he needed and wanted her, and he’d still chosen Shelly.

  She turned to the bed and ran her hand over the covers, still rumpled and pushed down by their lovemaking. She took a moment and closed her eyes and remembered how they were in bed together. She remembered how she’d felt close to him, connected, whole. They’d become one in that bed. Now an ocean stood between them. An ocean named Shelly.

  She turned from the bed with tears rolling down her cheeks. She headed out of the bedroom door wiping her tears away and left Cameron at her back.

  He walked down the hall and winced when he heard Shelly and Marti’s final exchange.

  “All done with Cameron?” Shelly asked with a frown and her arms crossed under her breasts.

  “He’s all yours,” Marti shot back and slammed the front door behind her.

  He pushed back the pain and felt his heart turn to ice. He’d never love anyone the way he loved her.

  Shelly smiled with what could only be described as triumph. A switch happened inside him and he faced his future with all the resignation of facing a firing squad. Everything in him wanted to go after Marti.

  Shelly dropped her arms and smoothed her blouse over her flat stomach. A gesture Caroline made often when her belly was round with their child. He reminded himself that his children needed him. They deserved a family and he’d do everything in his power to give them the family he always wanted for himself and them.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  * * *

  MARTI SPENT THE next ten days with George. His health deteriorated and his personal physician visited the house more and more often.

  She spent every possible moment with him. He liked sitting in the private garden and telling her stories. The tumor was robbing him of his memory. He often repeated himself and forgot things he’d told her. Some of his stories seemed to meld together.

  She didn’t mind. She enjoyed his company. Being with him distracted her from thinking about Cameron. The pain and hurt lived inside of her, but she tried to hide it so George’s final days were happy and unspoiled.

  They were having breakfast on the back patio when his son arrived with the family lawyer. She didn’t like the looks of this, but George was having a good day so far and she hoped he was up to the meeting. He’d had several meetings with the lawyer the first days she’d lived in the house. She hoped nothing was wrong.

  “Father, Mr. Spencer and I have come to speak with you about the changes you made to your will several weeks ago.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. I’m sure Mr. Spencer has set up everything I asked him to do. The will is finished and to my exact specification. Is that not the case, Mr. Spencer?”

  “It is, sir. Your son contacted me last night with concerns about your new will and has asked to see a copy. I’ve told him you wish for the contents to remain sealed until the time of your passing, sir.”

  “Those are my instructions. Walter, there is nothing you need to be aware of prior to my death. What’s mine is mine. I can do with it as I please.”

  “No, Father. You have a brain tumor, and I believe you’ve been unduly influenced by your mistress whore.”

  George’s face turned a dark red. Marti feared the stress might trigger a stroke or heart attack.

  Without a word, she pushed her chair back and rose to leave. George grabbed her hand and held it. A light tug prompted her to sit again. The other gentlemen joined them at the table. Now she knew why he wanted her there. To make sure his son didn’t try to make him do something he didn’t want to do. He’d said often she gave him strength and renewed his convictions. He needed her to stand against his son, who was only after one thing: as much of his father’s estate as he could get his hands on.

  “Marti is no such thing. She is a friend and like a daughter to me. More so than you’ve been a son these last several months. Your judgment and genuine concern are clouded by your greed. You and your sister don’t come here to
see about my welfare. You’re checking to see how long it’ll be before I kick the bucket, and I’m tired of it. I asked Marti to stay with me because she’s here to be with me. She cares about my well-being.”

  “I’m sure she cares about your well-being,” Walter said, dripping sarcasm. He knew just what Marti was taking care of and it wasn’t his father’s health. She was trying to get him to leave everything to her, if she hadn’t already. He wanted to see the will.

  “You know, Father, when you changed the will you were in your final weeks of illness. Whatever you’ve changed, I can have a judge fix based on your inability to think rationally with a tumor growing rapidly in your brain.”

  George just smiled at his son. He couldn’t believe he’d raised such a selfish, self-centered man.

  “You can try, but it will only be a waste of time. I had two well-respected physicians declare me mentally competent and lucid hours prior to the changes I made to the will. In addition, the changes I made were to include family members, not exclude them. You have nothing to worry about. I’ve taken care of your sister and you,” he said cryptically, for it could mean a number of things.

  He’d let Walter stew on it.

  “What do you mean, you’ve added family members? Who? Some of the distant cousins?”

  “My decisions are final. The document will remain sealed until my passing. Everything will be distributed forthwith. You’ll receive your inheritance within a matter of days. That’s all you need to know.”

  One of the servants stepped out on the patio to announce a delivery for Marti.

  George’s face lit with excitement. Marti, on the other hand, had no idea what the delivery could be. She hadn’t ordered anything and her publisher couldn’t have gotten the new books done so quickly.

  “Walter, excuse us. I have a surprise for Marti. Come along, dear.”

  She helped him to his feet. His motor skills had been failing quickly. A wheelchair waited in the house, but George didn’t want to use it until it was absolutely necessary.