by Goode, Ella
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Also by Ella Goode
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Jonas Willits has it all—the good looks, the prestigious name, and the massive international corporation. He could have any woman on the planet, but to his family’s dismay, he remains stubbornly single. They’ve tried to set him up and, when that doesn’t work, they’ve even resorted to trickery. Nothing is effective because Jonas has only loved one woman his entire life but she died years ago and he’ll never get over her.
With the help of strangers who grew into friends, Darby started a new life for herself and her child. For the most part, she’s content but there are times every day that she feels she’s missing an important piece of her life. Since she can’t remember the past, though, it remains a mystery. One day a man shows up, announces that she belongs to him, and drags her away. Darby’s scared—not only for her son, but also her heart.
Chapter 1
Jonas
My grandmother is ninety-two and sharper than ninety-nine percent of the people alive, which is why she is still the chairperson of Willits. My father tried to stage a coup when he was fifty and Gran was eighty-five. He lost and was banished to run a small conglomerate in Utah. We see each other only at Thanksgiving, which is a holiday Gran hates and so it is a date that does not exist in her world. My older sister has never wanted anything to do with the company, leaving me as the Willits heir. Everyone is waiting for Gran to die so I can take over and start running the company less like an imperial dictatorship and more like some kind of benevolent democracy. Little do they know—I hate Thanksgiving, too.
I hitch up my pants and take a seat at the breakfast table. It’s a fifty thousand dollar antique made of red lacquer and mother-of-pearl that once sat in the palace of the empress of China. It should be in a museum instead of sitting in front of a bank of windows overlooking a manmade pond that houses two black swans. I haven’t sat at the table for nearly two years.
A maid dressed in black comes up silently and pours me a cup of coffee. She steps aside and is replaced by another maid, who pours a tablespoon of cream into my coffee. I wave her hand away when she attempts to stir it. When Gran sees me, she presses her lips together in a sign of slight disappointment. The Willitses may not have been born into royalty, but we have made our own kingdom where our rule is absolute.
“You have staff for that,” she says when I place the small gold spoon on the side of the saucer.
“I also have hands.”
Her lips grow thinner. “Your hands exist to do important tasks and stirring your own coffee is not one of them.”
“If I don’t use them, they probably won’t be able to do any of those important tasks.” I sip my coffee and wait. She’s called me here for a purpose and it’s not to discuss whether I should be allowing someone to fix my coffee. This is an official state visit. It’s not as if the queen opens her doors and shares her breakfast table with just anyone—not even the heir to the throne. For the past two years, I’ve been in Hong Kong adding to the Willitses’ treasure chest. Gran called me home. It was time, she said. For what, though, I have some dread.
“You’re thirty-three.”
And there it is. I’m not surprised. What good is an heir without children? The name will die with me and then everything the old woman has worked for will be for nothing. “I am. You threw me a very classy birthday party last week.”
It was on a yacht, which she said was my present. She had it delivered to the Hong Kong harbor. All the locals were impressed but I already have a boat. It’s a small one with only one bedroom instead of three and only two decks instead of five and, most importantly, mine doesn’t have a helicopter pad. That was an intentional oversight because I get on my boat to escape from being a Willits. Distance does not make Gran happy. If you’re part of her inner circle, she wants you a finger’s length away. The fact that I have my own penthouse thirty minutes away is infuriating. The existence of my boat that has no satellite or landing space is unspeakable.
“I should have had more children so I would not have to rely on you.”
“I can’t help you with that, but I’m here. What can I do for you?”
“You know what you can do. You can find a bride and have some children. I think five is a good number.”
I place my now empty cup back onto the table. It’s full before I can tell the maid I’m done. “I’m not getting married,” I reply. “We’ve had this discussion every year for the past three years.”
“I cannot believe you are still mourning that Harris girl. She wasn’t worthy of you anyway.”
“I guess we’re done here.” I get to my feet. A sharp claw whips out to grasp my wrist.
“Wait.” It’s more of plea than a demand and the plaintive note in her voice makes me pause.
“What is it?”
“I’m very tired. I sense my time is near.” Her head lowers as if the weight of it is too much for her neck to bear. “I need to know that my empire is safe with you.”
“I’ve been the ostensible head since I was twenty-eight. Since then, I’ve doubled our revenues and our operating profit.” I try to gentle my tone because she is my gran and she is very old. “You know that it is safe with me.”
“It’s not secure unless you have heirs. Look at me. I had two sons and one turned out to be gay and had no children and the other turned out to be a faithless traitor with only one son. I know you don’t like me. You refuse to live in my home. You come only when I threaten you but like it or not, you are my blood and my only heir. I have to leave my empire to you. If you do not wish to turn out like me, then you must have many children and a large family so that you will have options. If you do not start now, it will be too late.”
I wrap my fingers around her frail digits and squeeze lightly before pulling out of her grip. “I told you three years ago that I would not marry. If you don’t like that, find a new heir.”
“Why?” she cries. “Why her? She’s gone and it’s time for you to move on.”
Three years ago, if she’d said the same things about Darby Harris, I would’ve upended the table—maybe thrown it through the windows. But time has dulled the pain. The loss of my fiancée is a daily ache that I’ve learned to live with, but that doesn’t mean I will ever replace her. “She has never been found and so there will be no moving on. And even if she was found and we had to bury her, I would still not move on. There is and always will be only one for me. If that’s a problem, then you should make other arrangements.”
There’s a tinkling sound of glass crashing against lacquer but I don’t turn around to see what she’s broken. Her temper tantrums are tiring. She should take her own advice and move on because I never will.
Chapter 2
Darby
I blow a raspberry on Jax’ cheek, making him giggle. “You’re getting too big for me to carry.” I sigh as I readjust him on my hip. He rests his little head on my shoulder. I know he’s sleepy. Time had gotten away from us at the park and I promised him a candy bar. At least it was our Friday. For most everyone else it is Tuesday. We’ll get to sleep in tomorrow and snuggle. I try to enjoy those days
with him, knowing he won’t stay young forever.
“I a big boy,” Jax agrees but doesn't make a move to get down. I have to admit that I’m a sucker for when he lifts his hands, asking for me to pick him up. I’m basically the worst at telling him no. He is such a good little boy though. We are already over the two year benchmark but I don’t see the terrible twos anywhere in sight. I know every parent thinks their kid is an angel, but Jax truly is.
“Not too big.” I kiss the top of his head. The past two years have gone by in a flash. When I was pregnant, it felt as though time was in slow motion. Then Jax came into my world and nothing seems slow anymore. Everything is always busy and moving. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have gotten him. I don’t know where he came from, but he is my angel. I may not remember my life before him but it doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine anything being as special as him. As long as I have him, we’ll always be okay. He is my life. We are a team.
“You going to pick one?” I motion to the candy in the checkout line as we wait for our turn. His head pops up from my shoulder to investigate the selection. He wiggles for me to let him down. I put him on his feet as his little fingers dance around which candy to get. “Pick one for Mommy, too.” Jax nods, letting me know that he can indeed do that for me. He studies the candy bars as though it’s the most important decision in the world. I smile, knowing that to him it probably is.
“We share.” He grabs a plain Hershey bar first. My eyes drift up to the magazines that are next to the candy bars. I check out the headlines like I’ve done many times. My eyes pause on a specific one when I see the same face I’ve seen a couple times before. Jonas Willits. I don’t know why my attention always focuses on him whenever he pops up, but it does.
There is something about him that catches my eye and piques my curiosity. This time it’s his birthday. I pick up the magazine to see he’s on a yacht in Hong Kong. One that doesn’t look too shabby, to say the least. They are speculating about when he’s going to finally settle down and get married.
I think it’s his eyes. That’s what always get me. They look so much like Jax’s. That’s what it has to be. That depth of blue isn't often seen, but they both have it. I set the magazine back on the rack, shaking myself out of the spell he has over me. This must be one of the celebrity crushes everyone is always talking about.
The kind where you become infatuated with someone you've never met. He isn’t a celebrity, though. He is just another rich man. I am used to those. I work for a very rich man. I tend to be around the wealthy often. If it wasn't for him and his family, I don’t know where I’d be. I wouldn't even know who I was. It’s bad enough I don’t remember anything before having Jax.
“This one?” I look back down to Jax, who is holding up a Twix bar. I smile, taking it from his hand. He doesn't even like Twix, but he knows it’s my favorite.
“Perfect angel.” I take the second candy from him, setting it on the belt. I don’t know what I did to deserve Jax, but it must have been something spectacular.
“Loyalty card?” the cashier asks. I find it on my keychain, giving it to her to scan. I dig through my bag to find some cash and to text Ben that we are ready to be picked up.
“Thanks,” I tell her as she gives me my change. I give Jax the bag with the two candy bars. He takes it before holding his hand out to take mine as we walk out of the store together. Ben pulls up in a black SUV.
“I got it,” I tell him but he’s already out of the car. Jax jumps for him. Ben catches him easily.
“You have fun at the park?”
I smile at both of them. Ben has been such a good influence on Jax.
“I got a candy bar!” Jax informs him.
“You going to share with me?” he asks Jax as he opens the back door to buckle him into the car seat. I hear him say yes as I slip into the passenger seat. I really need to learn to drive. I’ve been putting it off while I saved up for a car. Ben jumps into the driver's side.
“Thanks.” I sigh, leaning back in the seat.
“Anytime.” He gives me a warm smile before pulling off toward the Ward Estate, where we both work and live. I peek back at Jax who is already starting to fall asleep. The picture of Jonas flashes through my mind for a brief second as I stare at my sleeping angel. I shake off the lingering feeling I always get when I see him.
“You really have to teach me how to drive.”
Ben shrugs. “You know I will. Maybe you know how to drive and don’t remember?” he suggests.
I shake my head no. I don’t think I know how to drive. The idea of driving feels overwhelming.
“I don’t think so.” I shrug back. I hate thinking about the black spot in my mind. This emptiness that remembers nothing before waking up in a hospital. Alone. Or I’d thought I was alone until I was told I was pregnant. Not so alone after all. I steal another peek back at Jax.
“He’s out,” Ben says as he looks in the rearview mirror. I don’t know where I’d be without Ben and his wife Mary, who worked for the hospital I’d been transferred to when I couldn’t remember who I was. They had needed to run more intensive testing and said that facility was the best. Ben was the one that got me a job at the Ward estate. It really gave me everything I needed to get back on my feet. A roof over my head while I tried to remember what happened to me and who I was.
Three years later and I still have no idea. I’m not sure I want to know. Sometimes I think that it’s my body’s way of protecting me. As if whatever happened was bad and remembering could put me in danger. I’ve accepted the life I have now and as long as I have Jax, I have everything.
Still, even though my mind tells me this, deep down in my soul, I know I’m missing something.
Chapter 3
Jonas
“Unca Jonas, do the monsters get sad at night? Maybe you should leave the door open for them.” Veronica, my five-year-old niece, points to her closet with its double doors firmly closed. We just finished watching Monsters, Inc. and Ronnie is concerned that her new friends might not be able to get the laughter they need to power their little universe. I smooth a hand over her small forehead.
“They need to sleep like you. When you wake up, you can open the doors and let them in.”
“I can’t see them during the day, though. Maybe I should stay up.” She blinks her eyes, valiantly trying to stay awake.
“But then the monsters can’t sleep and they’ll be tired at work tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she says, her voice sad. “I don’t want them to be tired.”
“We don’t want you to be tired, either.” I lean down and press a kiss against her forehead. At five, Ronnie has lost that new baby smell, but now it’s little girl sweetness that makes a corner of my heart squeeze tight. I chase that feeling away with another kiss and give way to Ronnie’s mother.
“Almost time for lights out,” my sister announces. “Anything else you want to say to your Uncle?”
“Unca Jonas, do you like horses?”
“’Course I do.” Ronnie has recently developed an interest in them. My sister’s been calling around to see if five is too young for her to start lessons.
“Do you think a pony would like to live with me?”
I shoot a glance toward my sister to see where I should go with my answer. Melody only gives me a small shrug.
“Any pony would be lucky to live here.”
Ronnie flashes me her gummy, missing one front tooth smile. “Did you know that the best ponies live in a special farm not too far away? I saw it on TV.”
She must be talking about the Ward estate. There was a news special on their farm a couple of weeks ago. It’s been a long time since I saw the Wards. They’ve been breeding horses since the Mayflower landed. Problem is that the Wards are picky about who they sell their horses to, so I don’t want to promise anything to Ronnie. “There are lots of ponies around, not just at this one farm.”
“It’s not one farm, Unca Jonas. It’s a special farm,” she declares in a tone th
at suggests I’m stupid for not catching on. Before an argument can ensue, my sister makes us say goodnight.
While my sister finishes the bedtime process, I wander downstairs to the kitchen. My brother-in-law, Dean, is the head of security at the Galleria Shopping Center. One of the new guys flaked on him so he’s covering a night shift. He called earlier to ask me to stay the night and watch over his family.
Dean’s a great guy—normal, middle class, decent. I’ve offered him a job at Willits a hundred times and he’s turned every one down. He’s never said he wanted to support his family on his own, but I know that’s why he refuses to work for Willits. I admire that and his indulgence in expensive whiskey. I pour myself a good dose over a couple ice cubes. I need it after spending the evening with Ronnie curled up on my lap.
My sister comes down a few moments later. I raise my glass in her direction. “Want some?”
“No. I’m going to make myself some tea.” She fills a pot in the sink and sets it on the stove. “I don’t need the liquor to dull my pain as I have none.”
She doesn’t have to even look at me for the arrow to hit home.
“Ouch,” I say, clutching my chest dramatically. “What did I do to deserve that remark?”
She flicks the stove on before turning to me with a look of incredulity that she’s perfected in her five years as a mother. “You’re thirty-three, Jonas. You love children. You should have three of your own by now instead of coming over here once a week and pretending Ronnie is yours.”
“Not you, too.” I didn’t pour enough booze into my glass to withstand this topic with my sister.