Diablo Blanco Club 1, Unfair Advantage

by Qwillia Rain

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mattie grimaced as she opened her eyes. Hopefully the images flashing across her eyes were the dregs of some nightmare that had chased her through her dreams. The second she tried to use her right hand to lever herself up in bed, she hissed in pain and realized that the dreams of closets and screaming hadn’t been confined to her sleep. Even worse, as she rolled upward, she noticed Bryce seated next to the bed, dressed and ready for work, with a blue velvet jeweler’s case on the arm of his chair. She realized the pathetic pleas she’d made for his affections had netted her the one thing she’d wanted and now couldn’t accept.

  “Good morning,” Bryce greeted, rising from the chair and moving to sit beside her in the bed.

  Holding the covers close to her naked breasts, Mattie offered a quiet “good morning” in response.

  Placing the box in her lap, Bryce leaned down to kiss her.

  Mattie turned away, surprising both herself and Bryce with her refusal.

  “I’m sure you’re still a little upset over last night,” Bryce offered.

  She simply shrugged, her bandaged hand reluctantly smoothing over the case in her lap. “I’ll get over it.” Her assurance was couched in as cool a tone as she could muster, considering the heat his nearness stirred within her. Down, girl.

  “Well, I want you to stay home today. Rest up.” Placing his hand over the one on the case, he continued, “I’ve made an appointment with your doctor for tomorrow morning.”

  “Why? If you know I’m pregnant, why bother with confirming it again?”

  “To make sure you and the baby are okay. After last night—”

  “I was scared, okay. I admit it. That’s no reason to go running off to the doctor.” Sliding away from him, she ignored the blue velvet box she left behind as she rose from the bed. Tugging on her robe, she watched as Bryce picked up the box and held it out to her.

  “Aren’t you at least curious?”

  Hands gripping the belt of her robe tight, Mattie didn’t dare drop her gaze to the case he eased open. “I don’t want it.”

  Confusion mingled with frustration on Bryce’s face as he watched her. She could tell he didn’t understand why she’d suddenly change her tune after practically—hell, why not admit it?—groveling for his approval in the form of his collar last night.

  “Explain.”

  That tone, the one of her master, tugged at her need to please him. After weeks of ensuring his pleasure, Mattie balked at refusing him. But she did it. “No. I’ve said I don’t want it. That should be sufficient.”

  “Don’t push me, Lawrence.” Snapping the case closed, he tossed it back onto the bed. “Take a shower; get some rest. Dana knows you won’t be in, and I’ve asked Henrietta to check in on you during the day.”

  “I don’t need your housekeeper to babysit me, Bryce.”

  “Funny.” Bryce tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, the sides of his suit coat open and pushed back. “Just two days ago she was ‘our’ housekeeper.” Turning away, Bryce strode out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.

  Through a shower, dressing, and breakfast, Mattie held off the temptation to open the case, though she carried it with her as she moved from room to room. Wanting to go in to work, but still feeling a bit shaky, Mattie headed into the study to use the computer, the blue case tucked under her arm.

  “I’m going down to set lunch for my husband, Miss Mattie,” Etta called from the hall.

  Turning, Mattie smiled. “Thanks for everything. I’ll be fine the rest of the day, I’m sure.”

  Giving her a decidedly motherly look, Henrietta shook her head. “I’ll be back to check on you by two.”

  Chuckling, she gave in. “Okay, Mother Hen.” Mattie waved her off before settling into the chair behind the desk.

  The case taunted her from the corner of the desk blotter as she logged into the computer and connected to the company server. Through ten e-mails, she resisted until finally… “All right, all right.” Taking a deep breath, she pulled the case in front of her and snapped it open. Then immediately closed it.

  “Damn it.” She sniffed, holding her hands, fingers spread wide, on the desktop on either side of the box. Even squeezing her eyes shut didn’t dispel the memory of the gleaming platinum links he’d chosen for her.

  Determined to keep from opening the box again, Mattie tugged open the drawer and started to tuck it inside. Her name on a file folder stopped her.

  * * *

  “Dana, can you get Henrietta on the phone?” Bryce didn’t look up when he heard the door to his office open. Having just buzzed the receptionist, he assumed it was her entering the room. “I want to see how my wife is doing.”

  “I’m doing just fine, Bryce,” she informed him, dropping a file onto the pile of papers in front of him. “But maybe you can explain what the hell this is for?”

  Not bothering to open the folder, Bryce leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Exactly what it looks like.” His gaze drifted over her casual slacks and loose blouse, noting, with irritation, that the collar he’d given her this morning wasn’t around her neck.

  “It looks like you were investigating my sexual history,” Mattie snapped, her brown eyes flashing as she crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “I was.”

  “Why? Wanted a kinky little thrill or two? Or were you looking for the list of lovers so you could make sure I didn’t break rule number one?”

  “You were a virgin, Mattie.”

  “And did that make you feel like a big, strong man?”

  “You know I don't fuck virgins, Lawrence.” His laughter was derisive and cold. “They tend to put too much emotion into a situation that has nothing to do with emotion and everything to do with sensation.”

  “You sure as hell married one—”

  The memory of their wedding night brought a grin to his lips. “Yes, I did.”

  “Then why me? If you knew…” Mattie snapped.

  “Business.” He shrugged, the lie rolling easily off his lips. Better to have her pissed at something small than know the truth. “A means to an end, Lawrence. Plus, I was tired of waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “You to grow up. Get past the things that happened in your childhood and start acting like a grown woman.”

  “You mean stop panting after you like a bitch in heat.” She glared at him, her heart in shreds. “Don't you?”

  “If you want to put it like that.” Bryce fought the need to reassure her that those motivations hadn’t been it at all, but his pride refused to let him back down. She’d refused his collar when he offered it. “You're a born submissive, Lawrence, and a smart businesswoman.”

  “Don't try to placate me, Halsey.” Mattie pushed back the tears building behind her eyes. That little voice inside her head had been right. He didn't love her, and no matter how long she waited or how hard she tried, his collar would never grace her throat, and he'd never say the three words she needed most to hear.

  “We've worked too long together for you to pussyfoot around the subject,” she told him. “You're tired of my attention and my refusing to see the forest for the trees.”

  “Lawrence…” he started, but her words ran over his.

  Ignoring his attempts to speak, Mattie moved toward the door. “I understand now, Bryce.”

  “Where are you going?” Bryce demanded.

  “My office for right now.” She laughed, no humor in the sound, just as there was little amusement in her. “After that, we'll have to see.”

  “Don't do anything rash, Lawrence.”

  “Fuck you, Halsey.” She gave in to the need to vent. Turning what she hoped was a cool, emotionless face toward him, she added, “You don't own me anymore, so don't bother giving me orders.”

  The door slid shut without a sound, despite her need to rattle the walls.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After a week of silence between them, finding the blue velvet case on her
desk was the last thing she expected. She’d moved her things into the bedroom usually reserved for the mistress of the house. And despite the cool looks at the office, Bryce had remained friendly when they worked with the horses or prepared dinner at the Folly.

  The papers she’d just printed could change all that. Giving in to temptation, she reached for the case. Opening the box took more effort than she thought it would. Actually seeing the delicate links of the platinum collar had her hands trembling. Not daring to touch it, Mattie stared at the final sign of Bryce’s ownership and realized the offering had come too late. Much as she loved him, she’d realized in the last few days that she needed more than he was willing to offer.

  She couldn’t get past feeling numb. As if she were encased in ice, nothing seemed to penetrate the shell around her. She came to work, went home, talked to her sister, and carried on conversations with Bryce, but it was all a fog. Hell, she wasn’t even angry about the file she’d found and the realization that her childhood wasn’t as secret as she’d thought it was. Closing the case, she wondered if Lyssa wouldn’t mind company for dinner. She needed to do something, anything, so she could start rebuilding her life. Without Bryce.

  Absently, her hand drifted down to cover the curve of her belly. By now he had to have received the report from her doctor. Bryce was nothing if not thorough. He’d know she’d gone to the obstetrician her regular doctor had recommended, and following the blood test, an ultrasound had revealed she was not only pregnant, but carrying triplets. It was very likely Bryce would protest her transfer, especially with the babies, but she’d deal with that later.

  Drawing a deep breath, she rose, collected the papers and the necklace, and stepped into her husband’s office. He glanced up, a warm smile lifting his lips as she shut the door behind her. When he would have moved to stand up, she motioned him to stay seated, crossed the room, and placed the letters and case on the papers in front of him.

  His eyes shot to her throat, then back to the case. “I thought we went over this—”

  Mattie put her hand over the case. “We did. You weren’t listening.”

  The crease in his brow evidenced his frustration. “No?”

  “I don’t want it,” she clarified again. Ignoring the expression in his eyes, Mattie tapped one of the documents. “I wanted to get your approval on the necessary job description for my replacement.”

  “Replacement?”

  “I would offer it to Dana, but the amount of travel involved would keep her away from home.” She ignored his question.

  “Wait.” His firm tone stopped her practiced speech. “Why would you need replacing? The babies aren’t due—”

  “For six months,” she finished. “I know, but it’s going to take at least two months to get me moved, and I want to make sure whoever takes over for me—”

  “Moved?”

  “I want the marketing manager position at the Sydney office.”

  “No.” This time, Bryce shot to his feet, fisted hands planted on the desk as he leaned toward her.

  From the glint in his eye and the tension in his body, Mattie didn’t doubt for one second he wouldn’t hesitate to leap over the desk if she made a move to leave. She didn’t. Standing her ground, as she had in the many discussions they’d had before and after they’d married, she raised her chin and fought back. “Yes. I’m more than qualified for the position, and I think I’ve earned it.”

  “You’re my wife…”

  “I’m your cover story.”

  “You’re carrying my babies.”

  “No.” She shook her head. This was definitely where their opinions were going to collide. “I’m carrying my babies. You just happen to be the biological contributor.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?” This time he didn’t stop himself from striding around the desk and closing in on her.

  Mattie swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain where she stood. The urge to drop her gaze and beg his forgiveness pounded through her. Damn it, she loved him that much. It was killing her to know she had to leave, and the bastard was too blind to see it. It was that blindness, that wall of indifference, that made her realize she couldn’t remain. She didn’t know what it was, but something kept him from loving her, and no matter what she did, it would always be that way.

  The warmth of his palm settled over their…her babies. “These are my babies.” His other hand lifted her left hand to stroke his fingers over the platinum wedding band and engagement ring. “And you’re my wife. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Tell me you love me.” She held his gaze. “Say it, Bryce, and I’ll stay.”

  “You love me.” He avoided her demand by stating the obvious.

  “Yes. I’ve loved you for years,” she admitted. The heat of tears pressed against her eyelids. She couldn’t blame the hormones zipping through her body. Even if she weren’t pregnant, facing this uphill battle would have made her break down. “But you don’t love me.”

  He didn’t protest. There was no denial or argument in his clear green gaze.

  “And if you can’t love me, despite everything we’ve shared, how can I ever expect you to love our children?” Pulling free of his hold, she wiped at the tears wetting her cheeks. “Once you’ve approved the job description”—she forced her voice not to shake—“I’ll have Brenda in HR post it internally. There are a few candidates I’ve checked out that I think can handle the position.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the expression on his face resolute. “You can get this crazy scheme out of your head, Lawrence, because there’s no damned way I’m letting you leave. No damned way you’re traveling halfway around the world with my children.”

  “You don’t own me, Bryce.” Her finger shook as she pointed at the case on his desk. “Just because you’ve finally decided I’m worthy enough to wear your collar doesn’t mean I’m interested anymore.”

  “You love me,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

  “But I don’t want to,” she lied. “I’m done, Bryce. Finished. Tired. I may go to my grave loving you, but my babies and I deserve better than what you have to offer.” Ignoring the need to go to him and soothe the stunned look from his face, Mattie turned, walked to the door, and paused. Eyes focused on the polished mahogany and knuckles growing white as she gripped the knob, she added, “I can have my things out of your home by the end of the week.”

  * * *

  “Where the hell is your head, Halsey?” Richard demanded as he dropped into the chair facing Bryce’s desk.

  “What do you mean?” Bryce focused on his friend’s disgruntled expression and forced his thoughts away from the path they’d been wandering since Mattie’s departure an hour earlier.

  “What do I mean?” Richard shook his head and leaned forward. “I’ve had Mark Conlin bitching at me about not being able to get Mattie on the phone. Your dad griping at me about how you’re throwing away the board’s support. Dayton and David and Ben wondering why you and your wife haven’t been back to the Club.”

  “We’re working some things out,” Bryce hedged. The blue velvet box mocked him from the center of his desk.

  Richard noticed it. He shook his head and rubbed at his closed eyes. “You did something stupid, didn’t you?”

  “I have no idea what—”

  “Damn it, Bryce, I just had Ian King on the phone demanding to know why your wife is contacting him about the marketing department in Sydney.” His gray eyes reflected the frustration in his voice. “What reason would Mattie have to start looking at moving halfway around the world if you didn’t go and pull some boneheaded stunt? Not that Ian wouldn’t love to have Mattie working with him. He repeatedly assured me of that. But it would be like throwing a guppy in with a great white.”

  “What is it with you and Mike and the fucking shark analogies?” Bryce snapped. Shoving back his chair, he paced to the windows overlooking the warehouses. Farther toward the ocean, the hulls and skeletons of various shi
ps in different stages of construction dotted the landscape, while others rocked on thick anchor chains in the bay.

  “Probably because you’ve been circling around her like a shark around its prey for the last eight years,” Richard offered. “If anyone even hinted at getting close, you’d run ’em off. And now that you finally have her, you’re letting her go?”

  “I’m not doing anything. She is. She’s walking away, just like every damned woman walks away,” Bryce growled. He forced himself to ignore the pain centered in his chest. It had nothing to do with Mattie leaving him.

  “No, my friend, she isn’t walking away. You’re pushing her away.”

  Standing beside him at the window, Richard watched him. Bryce could feel his gaze on him, but he refused to turn. “I did everything I could think of to keep her, Rich. I married her. I showed her the pleasure in submission.” He shook his head and chuckled mirthlessly. “I even poked fucking holes in the condoms and her diaphragm to make sure she got pregnant.” Meeting Richard’s gaze, he asked, “How is that pushing her away?”

  “Did you tell her you love her?”

  “I don’t.” The pain in his chest made a liar of him.

  “She isn’t your mom or Miss Helen, Bryce.” Richard’s hand gripped his shoulder tight. “They didn’t choose to leave. They died. Mattie is still here. Don’t fuck it up, my friend, or another Dom will be more than happy to take care of her.”

  * * *

  It was all so familiar. The grave, his father in a dark suit, the dull thud of moist earth striking the coffin, but something was wrong. Gray threaded his father’s hair as he stood beside him, while Michael was grown, no longer a little boy, and taking up a position at his right shoulder. The soft weight of a child filled his arms.

  In his sleep, he twisted in the covers. No, it wasn’t right, Bryce thought as the dream continued. The mop of chocolate curls and bewildered green eyes looking up at him didn’t belong to his younger brother, but a little girl. His little girl.

  And Mattie was gone.

  His heart beat faster as he stared down into the grave, recognizing the white magnolias disappearing beneath the soil filling the pit. Lawrence loved magnolias, especially traditional white ones. But this wasn’t right… Across from him, he spotted Lyssa and Richard both focused on him with sad eyes filled with sympathy.