The Billionaire's Colton Threat
Page 9
Maggie nodded in sympathy. “You told me his reaction wasn’t as bad as you expected. What exactly did he say?”
Halle put her fork down and took a gulp of water. “He wants to marry me.”
To her credit, Maggie didn’t react. Save for the flutter of her eyelashes. “Really? I have to say, that’s not a bad response.”
“Give me a break! You sound just like him.”
“You’ve let Alastair in and he’s doing the right thing, even if you don’t want to take it to a legal level for your relationship with him. You do need to figure out what you want for the baby, however.”
“I know. I know what I want for the baby, and that’s to marry Alastair as soon as possible. The woman I was before this happened is screaming inside my head that I’m nuts.” The delicious breakfast was starting to look not so good as thoughts of how much her life was going to change washed over her. “I’ve barely been able to land back on my feet since Dad died. And now this.”
“You’ve had some awful breaks, true. But having a baby doesn’t have to fall under the ‘catastrophe’ heading.”
“I agree. as scared as I am, I’m also excited in a very basic way that I didn’t expect.”
“Primal?”
“Yes! That’s it. But with all that’s gone on, it’s as if every good thing around Bluewood is destined to fail.”
Maggie reached across the table and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing about you having a baby is going to fail. Your dad’s passing was an awful tragedy caused by the wicked witch of Shadow Creek. I never thought I’d say it’s a good thing that someone died, but when she was killed it confirmed my belief that good can come out of the worst things.” Maggie had loved Chancellor Ford as much as her own family, as she and Halle had run around Bluewood together since the time they could walk.
“That means a lot to me, Maggie, especially since you married a Colton.”
“Livia Colton shared only the surname with her family. Especially her children. They suffered so much at her hands, before and after her death. I’m proud to have taken the Colton name, and not just because my son’s a Colton.”
“How’s Thorne doing?” Maggie hadn’t said much about her new husband.
Maggie’s eyes glazed over. “Wonderful.”
Halle held up a hand. “Stop. Right. There. That’s all I need to know. You have that starry-eyed look going on.”
Maggie’s smile turned into a Cheshire cat grin. “I’m very happy. Never more so.”
“And I’m happy for you.” It was her own life she was worried about. “Did you ever think something awful was going to happen—”
“Before I got to enjoy life to its fullest? Are you crazy?”
Halle put her fork down. “I’m sorry, Maggie, really I am. I don’t deserve your friendship. Here I’ve been going on and on about two good things—being pregnant and getting married, even if it is out of convenience, as if it’s the end of the world. I’ve been so totally self-centered, whining about my issues.” And she had.
Maggie shrugged. “We’re together the way we’re supposed to be. Which brings me right back to my original point.”
“Before you go any further, remember that you’ve known Thorne a heck of a lot longer than I have Alastair.”
Maggie shook her head. “It’s not the time. Seriously. It’s how he makes you feel. And how you make him feel must be pretty darn fantastic if he’s proposed to you.”
“No, I mean, yes, we have amazing chemistry. There’s that. But he’s a billionaire with solid ethics. He has the ability to do what he feels is right while also affording a way out of it.”
“Are you afraid he’s going to bankrupt you for some reason?” Incredulity rang in Maggie’s voice.
“Not exactly. He’s promised to help me get Bluewood back in the black, and I’m sure he assumes I won’t pay him back. But of course I will. I have to. For any of this to work, I can’t feel as if he gave me a handout or bought his way to the altar.”
“Well, he kind of is trying to buy your hand in marriage, but I can see his point of view. He’s the outsider here. Not only is he from out of town, he’s a different nationality than you and potentially his unborn child. He may be desperate to make sure he has a definite connection to the baby. And if your intention is to pay him back, why are you second guessing any of this? Just sign a prenup that’s beneficial to both of you—it’s done all the time.”
Prenup. Not something she’d thought about, but Alastair would be insane to marry her without one. For some reason, while her head totally understood the need for a contract of sorts, a tiny part of her heart died at the thought of it. Not that she had ever been the romantic type, or anything close to it. “It’s not a true prenup, and I’ve agreed to sign it. In fact, I already did. I guess it’s hard to see that I haven’t brought the ranch up to speed with my own resources. Add the fact that I allowed myself to get pregnant, and it’s left me wondering why I even came back here.”
“First off, what do you mean, ‘allow’ yourself to get pregnant? It can happen to anyone. No protection is one hundred percent. You’ve decided to keep the baby, so it’s a moot point anyhow. Second, you know why you came back to Shadow Creek, Halle. We all knew you would, someday. And when Chance died so unexpectedly, you absolutely did the right thing. If you’d waited, there wouldn’t have been a Bluewood to come back to.”
Maggie’s words were spot-on but more, her sentiment was in perfect harmony with Halle’s thoughts. “I’m so lucky to have you and Thorne to help me through all of this.”
“And now you have Alastair’s helping hands, too.” Maggie waggled her brows with innuendo. Halle couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up if she wanted to.
“You’re bad. You know that, right?” They laughed together and Halle wished she could freeze the moment. Her life was changing in ways she could have never imagined just a few months ago. Add in Chance Ford’s death not so long ago, and her life had been turned completely upside down inside of a year.
Alastair Buchanan’s involvement in her life was the last thing she needed, but that horse left the barn out on the trail when she’d given in to her desire and experienced the most erotic night of her life.
No matter how confused she was at the moment, she’d never felt more alive than she had in the hands of a near stranger. A man who was the father of her child and would in fact become her husband.
* * *
As Halle drove back to the ranch, she tried to see it all through Alastair’s eyes. The dilapidated buildings, the weathered siding on the ranch house, the lack of livestock that once filled every pasture. She had to blink to keep tears from falling. It wasn’t self-pity or despair at how far her father’s property had fallen over the past few years. It was facing her failure to see further than her big-city career aspirations. Why hadn’t she noticed that he hadn’t been able to keep up with the regular maintenance? If that Livia Colton hadn’t killed him, when would Halle have figured out that her father needed her help?
Guilt, familiar and deadly, pierced her as she recalled the years she’d spent at a high-powered yet meaningless job in the city. It wasn’t that the position or the company she worked for had been superfluous, but knowing her destiny was at Bluewood had always been there, simmering, in her deepest being. Not unlike how she felt about the baby she carried. It was as if her body, her soul, had come home to their fate.
Chapter 8
Halle couldn’t believe it. She’d agreed to Alastair’s crazy plan. It made sense on paper; she was going to be able to keep the ranch, and the baby would have it, too. She’d marry him in an hour, at the Shadow Creek courthouse. It’d been too easy, too simple to plan her wedding. A call to the town secretary yesterday, a quick run into town for the license, making an appointment with the judge today. They could even bring in their own mi
nister if they’d like. It was done every day. Well, at least a couple of times a month in the small enclave of Shadow Creek. That should reassure her. She wasn’t nuts. This was best for the baby’s future, and hers. Bluewood’s.
So why did her hands shake so much? No matter how deeply she breathed, how slowly, her erratic fingers smeared her mascara and eyeliner. At least she’d managed to paint her nails a sheer shade of pink. She looked at her bare hands. Did Alastair have a wedding ring for her? She had nothing for him, as she didn’t want to assume he’d want to wear a ring.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered in the privacy of her room. She’d spent last night alone, in her bed as usual. Alastair had been true to his word and slept in the tiny guest room.
A quick rap at her bedroom door increased the batting of angel wings in her stomach. “I’ll be out in a minute, Alastair.” She finished her makeup with a swipe of pale pink lipstick that matched her manicure. The corresponding blush made a good difference on her cheeks, pale from the morning sickness.
She left her room, ready to face her groom. Her groom.
Alastair stood in the family room, the sunlight illuminating him like some kind of Greek god as it spilled in from the skylights. He was taller, looking more powerful than ever in a close-tailored Italian suit of silver gray. She’d seen the tag when he’d unpacked, telling her about his trip here. The blue-gray tie matched his eyes and dark shadows under them. It appeared he hadn’t slept well in the guest room, but she didn’t have much compassion for him there. She hadn’t slept well, either. The agreement they’d reached could be construed as a deal with the devil, if she allowed herself to obsess over all the awful things he could do to her and the baby with the power his money brought.
Focus on the man Alastair. Not the billionaire.
“You’re lovely.” His rich voice rolled over and around her and made what they were doing feel almost normal. Right, even.
“And you’re quite handsome.” If they were a real bride and groom, would they be talking like this to one another? “We’re breaking a big American tradition. Normally the groom isn’t allowed to see the bride before the ceremony.”
“You don’t strike me as the superstitious type, Halle.”
“I’m not, not usually. It’s just that this isn’t about you and me, Alastair. It’s about the baby. I want it to be right for him or her. And you said you were superstitious.”
He walked to her and reached out his hands, palms up. And waited. She stared at his large hands, the deep lines in his palms—he wasn’t a man who solely worked behind a desk, on his computer. He was who he’d said he was—an outdoorsman who needed to put in desk hours so that he could continue his passion to live a full life. To give back. He hadn’t personally told her about all of the charities he not only financially supported but visited on a regular basis. It was all on his company’s website—photos showing Alastair in famine-struck nations, making a difference. Doing what was right.
She decided to trust him that this big step of her own was the right thing to do.
Halle placed her hands in his, and allowed him to hold hers, his thumbs caressing her. “We are doing the right thing, Halle. This will secure our baby’s future, and more important, his or her safety. And yours. You’re important to me, too. I told you, you’re the mother of my child.” She looked up at him and wanted desperately to believe him.
“I don’t doubt your intention, Alastair. But it’s not fair to either of us to count on more than providing for our child at this point, is it? We barely know one another.”
“Oh, but I think we’re off to a good start, don’t you?” His laugh rolled along her arms, up to her breasts, her heart. She felt him in the deepest parts of her, and couldn’t deny the heat he ignited each time he looked at her. He gently tugged on her arms. “Let’s put aside our concerns about not knowing each other too well, about what the next year will bring, about how we’ll separate and divorce. Let’s just enjoy today. Can you do that?”
“Agree to take today on today’s terms?” She hadn’t heard a better offer in a long while. “Sounds good to me.” She winked, actually winked, at him as she let go of his hands, and then bent to retrieve her small pearl beaded clutch.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a white dress, but I think this will do.” She motioned at her pale pink sleeveless dress, the fit-and-flare cut perfect as it was loose in the right place—her lower abdomen. Under the skirt her belly was beginning to bulge ever-so-slightly, and she swore her rib cage had grown, too, as the fitted part of the dress was far snugger than it had been off the rack. Alastair had offered to buy her a new dress, an entire wardrobe, but she wasn’t ready for that. There would be time enough for new clothes as her figure changed. “I bought it on sale, thinking it’d be great for a friend’s wedding or such. I never imagined I’d wear it to mine.”
“It’ll do quite nicely.” His voice was gruff, his expression enigmatic. God, Halle wondered if he felt the tension, too. She wrapped the sheer chiffon scarf around her shoulders and smiled at him. “Ready when you are.”
They walked to the front door, her iridescent silver beaded high heel sandals clicking next to the strong tap of his leather soled shoes. Also from an Italian designer, she had no doubt. Alastair was a man of good taste and she didn’t think it had so much to do with his fortune as with the man who’d shown her his most passionate side barely three months ago. She lifted her fluffy white winter coat and Alastair took it from her, helping her shrug into it.
Once in the drive he took the wheel of her pickup truck. “I take it you don’t have anything a little fancier?” The skin around his eyes crinkled and she answered with her own laugh. She was touched by the fact he’d not flashed his wealth around with an expensive car but instead had paid for a lift from the Austin airport, where his jet waited for his next trip.
“Do you mean like a Jaguar? This is very fancy for these parts, Alastair. It’s practical, and it even has Wi-Fi. I didn’t want to use Uber, like you did when you came from the airport. And a limo would be a bit much, considering our circumstances. We belong in a family car today.” She’d leased the truck as it was more affordable for her at the moment than purchasing a new or used vehicle. “There is my father’s old Chrysler, but it drives like a boat and the battery is iffy. It’s probably time I sold it, anyhow.” Another change she had to deal with.
“This is perfect. I was only teasing you, you know. And keep your father’s car—we’ll have it serviced. They don’t make classics like that anymore.” He maneuvered the truck as if he drove it regularly. Until he got to the first intersection leading into Shadow Creek and turned into the oncoming traffic the wrong way.
“Right side! We drive on the right!” She screamed and clutched the ceiling handle as Alastair veered away from two sedans and a minivan onto the grassy median, barely avoiding a collision. He brought the car to a stop and turned toward her.
“I’m so sorry, Halle. It’s wedding jitters.” His eyes were wide, his face slack with concern.
“I’d say it’s more like remembering you’re in the States. Do you want me to drive?” She couldn’t believe that was her shaky voice. Any other time she’d insist upon taking the wheel. Did she actually care about empowering Alastair’s driving confidence?
“No, I’ve got it. Won’t happen again.” He took a visibly deep breath before putting the truck back into gear and edging onto the right side of the highway. True to his word, he didn’t err again and they made it to the courthouse on time and in one piece.
“Wait for me to come around.” He flashed her a smile before he slid out of the driver’s seat. Halle watched his tall figure stride around the front of the truck, his shoulders broad in his perfectly tailored suit, hair ruffled by the Texas breeze. A swell of tenderness rose, a welcome change from the nausea of the past weeks. Alastair’s physical attractiveness was unsurpassed, but
her desire for him was based on far more than flat abs and his skilled lovemaking. Alastair listened to her and made her feel as if they were on the same team. A winning team.
He opened her door and reached up for her, his hands around her waist as he lifted her from the car.
“Whoa!” She laughed, her hands on his chest for balance. “That’s a little more gallant that I expected.”
“Anything for you on your wedding day, my lady.” He theatrically drew out the words in his Scottish brogue. The pure masculine gesture had her thinking about the possibility of a real wedding night. Complete with being naked against Alastair, making love until dawn broke.
“Shall we?” He had one arm around her waist and motioned at the county courthouse steps. The white stone blazed in the Texas sun, a bright omen, as far as Halle was concerned. She relished their walk up the steps and into the small rotunda, the vastness of the building enveloping them. Even the security checkpoint didn’t faze her as the guard searched her purse and had them each step through a metal detector.
As much as it seemed so sterile an environment compared to a lavish church or temple wedding, Halle found it no less sacred. She was making vows to her baby’s father. That meant something.
* * *
Alastair loved the feel of Halle’s hand in his. Holding hands was highly underrated as an erotic foreplay skill. Her palm was small compared to his, yet fit perfectly against his hand, her skin soft as a whisper.
“I should have insisted you come back to Scotland with me. My family would throw us a beautiful wedding. You deserve at least that much, Halle.” She deserved more than he could ever give her.
“Shh. This is perfect for us, right now. What more could we ask for?” She smiled and gestured at the historic architecture, her eyes appreciative. “This is charming, Alastair.”