Storm Conquered

by Magda Alexander

  “Noble.”

  “Yes.”

  “So are you.”

  Confused, all I can do is stare at her.

  “You’ve fought for your country, been highly decorated. Stood by my daughter for eight years. Kept her out of more trouble than anyone should reasonably be expected to do, rescued a helpless child from a certain gruesome future. You’re honorable, courageous, and, unless I miss my guess, a deeply passionate man. You are the very best I could hope for my daughter.” She stands and puts her arms around me. “Don’t pass up this chance for happiness, Jake. You’ll regret it the rest of your life like I did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t tell Brianna, but her father proposed marriage when I told him I was pregnant. I said no. Neither of us owned the proverbial pot to piss in, never mind the funds necessary to maintain Winterleagh Castle and all the properties he inherited. If we’d married, he’d have lost everything. So I turned him down. Little did I know what the Countess would do in the future. The hell she would put Gabriel through. I could have stopped that.”

  “You didn’t know what she’d do.”

  “No. I didn’t. I can’t help but take part of the blame. And there hasn’t been one day I haven’t regretted my decision. So don’t you do the same. Don’t spend a lifetime of regret wishing for what could have been. Fly down to Brazil and tell her how much you care for her. I believe she cares just as much for you. Are you strong enough to take that chance?”

  Hours later on a flight to Natal, I’m asking myself the same question. Am I strong enough to risk Brianna turning me down? What if she does? Well, at least I would have tried. And I’ll still have some connection with her. Because I intend to share custody of our child, whatever I have to do. She won’t deny me that much. We touch down in Miami for an overnight stay. But next morning we’re back on the plane, flying south to where my future awaits, whatever it may be.

  Chapter 29

  ______________

  Brianna

  EXHAUSTED AFTER A FULL DAY of dealing with a myriad of project management issues, I walk into my bungalow wanting nothing more than a hot bath and an early bed. But as soon as I do, my heart lurches at the sight in front of me.

  Jake. Standing in the center of my living room. As bloody gorgeous as ever. I’ve missed him so much. Missed his warmth in my bed, his scent, his taste. Him. What is he doing here? He shouldn’t want anything to do with me, not after the way I broke things off. And yet here he is.

  Beyond tired, I drop my knapsack on the couch. “How did you get in?”

  He dangles a key from one of those long fingers of his. “I still have this. You should have changed the locks.”

  Am I ever going to feel like he’s not chastising me? But he’s right. I should have. With everything that’s happened, though, I never once thought about getting a new bolt. Another thought intrudes, and a lump grows in my throat. Was he sent as the bearer of bad news? “Is something wrong? Did someone get hurt?”

  “No. Everyone’s fine.”

  I breathe easy even while another question pops up in my head. “Then why are you here?”

  His mouth firms into a white line. “You’re pregnant. With my child.”

  My hand flies to my stomach. Damn it. How does he know? The only person aware of my pregnancy is ... my mother. “Lady Margaret spilled the beans.”

  “Yes.”

  Why would she do such a thing? I hadn’t told her I lied to Jake, but she knows he’s my baby’s father. Does she see this as a way to bring us together? Needing to put some distance between us, I walk to the kitchen and pour a glass of water from the pitcher I keep in the refrigerator. After drinking down half the glass, I ask. “What do you want, Jake?”

  He jams his right hand into his jeans pocket. “Answers. Why did you tell me you lost the babe?”

  I rub my shoulder to relieve the ache from carrying the knapsack. “You were very clear as to what you wanted. Cooper Security. A baby would interfere with your plans.”

  With that easy stride of his, he strolls to my side, pushes my hand away and takes over kneading duty. I almost moan from having his hands on me.

  “Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important than my child. And you.”

  I swivel and face him once more. “Jake, I’m nothing more than an assignment to you. Have been for quite some time.”

  “That’s not true. I mean ... Yes, you’ve always been my charge, my responsibility.” He rakes his hand through his hair which he’s cut short again. “I want you to marry me.”

  What? “You’re joking. Why would you want to do that?” I clamp the edge of the counter behind me, so hard my hands hurt.

  “I ... care for you.”

  Care. A strong word to be sure. But not nearly strong enough for a lifetime of lying by his side knowing the only reason he married me was because I’m pregnant with his child. I need more than that. “Caring is not enough, Jake.”

  He steps close to me until he’s standing a bare breath away. “I love you.” The words are delivered in his typical military style. Brief and to the point.

  My breath catches. Tears, now never far from the surface because of my pregnancy, roll down my cheeks. “How dare you say such a thing?” Unable to bear him near me, I push on his chest. Not that it makes any difference. He’s one big solid wall of steel.

  But he takes the hint and steps back. “You don’t want to hear I love you.”

  “Not when it’s a lie. You’d do anything, say anything, to ... gain custody of your child. Having 24/7 access to me is a bonus. After all, the sex is great. So you figure, why not?”

  “Damn it, Brianna. That’s not why I said it.”

  I turn my back to him and allow the tears to flow unchecked. “I want you to leave right now. Leave and don’t come back.” God, please don’t let me totally break down in front of him. I catch my breath, will back my pain.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Well you’re not staying here with me.” The exact words I said so many months ago.

  “Yes. I am.” His voice softens as he clasps my shoulders. Those big hands I love so much trail my skin from my shoulders to the tip of my fingers. “You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself. You’re too thin.”

  Such an unfair statement. I reel back to him. “Well, if you’d spent the last three months throwing up, you’d lost weight too. The morning sickness only stopped about a week ago.”

  “And what have you been eating since then?”

  “Food.”

  He wanders to the refrigerator and throws open the door. God help me. I know what he’ll find.

  He pulls out a box of smoked oysters and a jar of pickles and waves them at me. “This is what you’ve been eating?”

  “Those are the only things I could keep down. And some crackers in the morning.”

  Frowning, he yanks open every one of the empty cupboards.

  “What are you doing?”

  He slams shut the last door. “You don’t have anything to eat. Come.” He takes me by the hand. Outside he nods to Hamish as he drags me down the steps. When we reach the jeep, he picks me up, drops me into the seat, buckles my seatbelt. He climbs into the driver’s side and peels away from the curb.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the grocery store.”

  “I don’t cook.”

  “Yeah, but I do.” He swerves to avoid a pothole.

  “You’re not staying with me, Jake.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  After he spends a small fortune at the Storm Industries’ commissary, we return home where he tosses ingredients into a huge pot. Chicken, broth, brown rice. Soon the aroma of something delicious percolates through the space, and my stomach rumbles, surprisingly from hunger. When dinner lands on the table, I fall on the food like a starving pilgrim while he watches me eat with a self-satisfied grin. Finished, I collapse back against the dining chair, almost comatose from the huge meal and exha
ustion.

  “You want me to draw a bath for you?” His deep voice rumbles into my semi-conscious state.

  I open my eyes, catch the intent in his. He’s dead serious. A small smile flits across my lips. I could get used to this. “You don’t mind?”

  A deliciously slow grin rolls across his face, melting everything inside me. “Not at all.”

  After falling asleep in the tub, I’m barely conscious of him plucking me from the water, drying me and tucking me into bed. What seems like minutes later, he slides in next to me smelling of that masculine body wash I love. With a contented purr, I roll into him and lay my head on his chest. I fall asleep to the sound of his heart beating beneath me. In the morning, he makes love to me so sweetly all I want to do is cry. I emerge dressed and in a better frame of mind than I’ve been for weeks when the scent of cooking hits me. I gag and barely make it to the loo in time. While I spew my stomach contents into the porcelain bowl, he presses a wet cloth to the back of my neck.

  Feeling like death warmed over, I glare at him. “No food in the morning.”

  His worried expression tells me how sorry he is. “Got it.”

  An hour later I’m starving. “Want to try breakfast again?”

  The ‘Are you crazy?’ scrunched across his brow is priceless. “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  This time I gobble down the food and, miracle of miracles, it stays down.

  He carries my knapsack and holds my hand the entire walk to my office. On the way, we encounter several staff who wave, nod. Smiles pop up on every one of their faces as soon as they catch a hold of us. After bestowing a soft kiss on my lips, he goes off whistling, nodding to the couple he meets along the way. Izabel, who watched the whole thing through the venetian blinds in the trailer, grins as well. And so does everybody else around the compound every time they see us.

  During the next few days we settle into a routine. He walks me to my trailer in the morning. At lunchtime, we meet at the dining hall where we’re greeted by friendly faces and hardy hellos. Like clockwork, he shows up at the trailer right at five o’clock every day. At first, I resist knocking off so early, claiming I have more work to do. But he brushes aside my objection with one simple truth. I’m pregnant, and I need my rest, and nothing is more important than that. So after that first day, I make sure to wrap things up before he shows up. Rather than take our evening meals at the dining hall, he cooks dinner at our bungalow while regaling me with humorous stories from his Navy Seal days.

  A week into it, I can’t take it any more. “Why is everybody smiling?” I ask Izabel.

  “They’re happy for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, when you flew back from London you were pretty miserable. But now that Jake’s here, you’re glowing with happiness. They’re happy you’re happy.”

  She’s right. I haven’t been this contented since ... forever. Still, I can’t get comfortable with the state of things. “It’s not permanent.”

  She shrugs. “Looks awfully permanent to me. Wish I had a man that loved me as much as he loves you.”

  “It’s not love. He cares about me, cares about his child. That’s all.”

  She doesn’t respond, just gives me another one of those knowing smiles that everyone’s flashing at me. The whole thing’s getting on my nerves.

  That weekend, I send Jake to the store for more smoked oysters and call Elizabeth wanting her take on what’s going on. After we exchange news about Gabriel and Andrew, I blurt out the news about Jake’s proposal.

  “That’s great!” Her excitement clearly comes across the phone, but she doesn’t sound the least bit surprised. “Did you say yes?”

  Even though she’s thousand of miles away, she’s drinking the same happy juice as everyone in the compound. Honestly. “Of course not. He doesn’t love me. And I’m not about to marry a man who’s marrying me because of an overwhelming sense of duty and honor.”

  “Bri. You don’t really believe that’s the only reason he asked you to marry him, do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Honey, Jake’s carried a torch for you since ... forever.”

  “No, he hasn’t.”

  “It’s as plain as the nose on your face. That man has it bad for you. Why, I even noticed it, and I only have eyes for your brother.”

  Something inside me lurches. Have I been that blind all these years? “But he’s never said anything!”

  “Of course he didn’t. For one, he was your bodyguard. And for another, the way you went through men? He didn’t want to open himself up for that world of hurt.”

  Could she be right? Have I been that obtuse all this time? Through the window, I spot Jake climbing out of the jeep. I tell her to give Andrew a kiss from me and hang up as Jake strolls into the bungalow with a bag of food.

  “I only asked for smoked oysters.”

  “They also had those crackers you like, and I just had to buy this.” He digs around the grocery bag and emerges with a plush yellow bunny toy. “For the baby.” Like he needs to explain.

  That night while he cooks, I can’t keep my eyes from him. He’s whistling while he cuts up chicken, vegetables, throws them in the pot. I’ve never seen him this happy. Could everyone be right and I’ve been too stupid to see? A wave of emotion rolls over me, and my vision grows cloudy with tears. This man. This honorable, loving, caring man has done nothing but take care of me for the last eight years, almost died because of me, and I’m questioning his love for me. What a fool I’ve been.

  As if my anguish calls out to him, his gaze swivels toward me. I’m batting at my eyes, gulping back tears.

  He turns off whatever’s on the stove and races in my direction, drops to his haunches in front of me. “What’s wrong? Is this one of those pregnancy mood swings?”

  “No.” I stare into the face that’s haunted my dreams for the last year. “I’ve been a fool, an idiot.”

  “Hey. Stop that. You’re not allowed to talk that way about the woman I love.”

  I can no longer hold back the waterworks and bawl in earnest.

  He wraps a big, strong arm around me and cuddles me against one of those big shoulders of his. “Bright eyes, you’re scaring me. What’s the matter? Is it the baby?”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s—” I hiccup, catch my breath “—you love me!” I sound like I’m accusing him of being a serial murderer.

  He shakes his head as if he doesn’t understand. “That’s a problem for you?”

  “No. Not a problem. I ... just don’t understand why.” I sit up, gaze at him because I want to see this truth in his eyes. “I’ve been a brat, a royal pain in the arse.”

  His mouth quirks up in the corner as he threads a hand through my hair. “You most certainly were. Sneaking off to bondage clubs during college. Dropping your knickers in front of the Mayor of London. Making playthings of men.” His hand clenches on that last one.

  “I don’t understand how you could love me when I behaved so badly.”

  He cups my cheek. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you.”

  “You couldn’t have!”

  He places a finger against my lips. “I could and I did. You struck me dumb, deaf, and blind.”

  “I never knew.”

  “I had a job to do, watching over you. And I couldn’t risk you knowing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you would have done your damnest to get me into your bed. And once you were done, you would have tossed me to the curb, like you did every boy toy since you were eighteen.”

  “I wouldn’t have—”

  “Sweetheart, you’ve already done it. Twice.”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t.”

  He responds with an arch of his brow. “You left after Kurt shot me.”

  “That was different. I had to return to Brazil. Without either Kurt or me, the wind turbine couldn’t be installed. I left you a note.” I accuse him.

  “Thank you for ever
ything. Take care.” The note I left behind. He hadn’t forgotten the words.

  I jerk back into the chair. “What did you want me to say? You’d been shot. Twice. Once in Brazil and the second time in my apartment. You almost died. Because of me. Because of bloody me.”

  “I’d die for you, Brianna.”

  A hiccup of grief escapes me. I pound on his chest. “I don’t want you to die! I want you to live. When I saw you lying there on that hospital bed, so still, not knowing if you would live or die? Don’t you understand? I never wanted you to go through that again. And we Storms seem to have these madmen who come after us. Look at what that stalker did to Elizabeth and Andrew and Gabriel. We’re bad luck. Anyone who guards us winds up hurt. I didn’t want that for you.”

  He cups the hand that’s been pounding on him, brings it to his lips, kisses it. “So it was guilt that drove you to cut things off.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you shut me down the second time? Why did you lie about the baby?”

  “You are an honorable man, Jake. You always have been. And I knew you’d stick around because of the child. You were so eager to get Cooper Security off the ground. I wanted that for you.”

  “Sweetheart, I can do that here. London. Anywhere you are.”

  “You can’t possibly love me, Jake.”

  “I do. I love every inch of you, from your pink toenails to your platinum top curls. I adore your eyes, blue as the ocean, your silky, soft skin.”

  He breathes me in, and I shiver.

  “Your scent. And the taste of you. God almighty.” He throws his head back. “That alone brings me to my knees.”

  For the first time, hope blossoms in my heart. Hope and fear. “You’re only saying such things to get what you want, which I imagine is joint custody of our child. You don’t have to, you know. I’ll gladly share guardianship with you.”

  “It won’t be enough.” He thumbs away the tears from my face. “I want his mother as well. Marry me, Brianna.”

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll fuck other blokes?”

  He shakes his head. “You won’t.”

  A hiccup escapes me. “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve ruined you for all other men.” A devil-may-care grin pops up on his lips to go with that dimple in his left cheek.