by Floyd, Jacie
Proceeded by her sister and Regina and accompanied by her father, his bride looked radiant in a cream-colored dress that she had allowed Rosalie to custom order. Embroidered flowers in the exact lavender of Kara’s eyes bordered the neck and hem of the deceptively simple garment.
As they exchanged vows in the old-style Biblical language Wyatt found so lyrical, he was sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the vicinity—not even his—when Sean produced the gold rings for his parents to exchange.
Enjoying each moment of the ceremony and reception, Wyatt and Kara allowed his mother to play grande dame, while Izzy and Nina competed in housekeeping chores and Regina flirted outrageously with Dylan.
Everyone Wyatt and Kara loved was present, including Kara’s mother, still using a cane to help her walk. Wyatt had been moved by the toast presented by Kara’s father and the warmth with which her family welcomed him. The few guests mingled, talked, ate and drank freely.
When the last of the food had disappeared and the last good wishes had been expressed, Dylan and Ryan had hugged him and slapped him on the back. The three men who were more like brothers than friends had taken their annual vacation together the month before and Wyatt shared with them the whole story of his life with Kara. Shocked that he had kept the relationship from them, they ribbed him mercilessly about it, but accepted that at last one of them would be getting married and settling down.
“Kara’s a keeper,” Ryan said now. “Happy for you.”
“Happy it’s you and not me,” Dylan joked, but Wyatt thought he detected a note of envy, too. The constant social round wore thin after a while, as Wyatt was very much aware.
Waving good-bye as the guests climbed into the limos for the return trip to the hotel, he and Kara were headed to the cabin for the night and a privately chartered cruise after that.
“I don’t think he’s even going to miss us.” Wyatt gave Sean a final kiss and passed him to Allie. The child left with Allie, Xander, Maria, and Marco without a whimper.
“Oh, I know.” She snuggled against her new husband. “I’m not worried.”
“You’re not?”
“He’s in the hands of competent people who love him. If that isn’t enough to keep him safe, then there isn’t enough protection in the world.”
She had made great progress in the past few months. Even though he didn’t believe she was as blasé as she pretended, she did seem agreeable to letting Sean enjoy time with his grandparents while they honeymooned… which Wyatt was eager to begin. Tonight, a romantic evening under the stars. Tomorrow, a sailboat in the Virgin Islands.
As Nina climbed into her car with her husband, she had whispered in Wyatt’s ear that there was a late-night supper prepared and waiting for them at the cabin. But food could wait. As soon as they arrived at the cabin, Wyatt took Kara by the hand and led her to the chaise lounge.
“In case I forgot to say so, you look beautiful.” He ran a fingertip along the scoop neck of her dress. “Do you want to change out of this? I have plans that might wreck your dress.”
She put her arms around his shoulders, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “What kind of plans?”
He circled his hands around her waist. “Nothing the wedding vows don’t encourage.”
“Such as?”
“Having and holding.” He kissed her cheek.“Loving and cherishing.”
“What about ‘With my body I will worship thee’?”
“Definitely that, and then,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m going to plight thee my troth.”
“Is that your troth pressing against me?” She giggled in a very un-Kara-like way. “I know you wanted to use the old language, but have you noticed how those words have taken on a decidedly un-Biblical turn?”
“You just have a creative mind... but keep it up, I like it.” He nibbled down her neck to the rise of a breast and considered the most effective way of getting her out of her dress. He had a feeling something skimpy and sexy resided underneath. His fingers searched for the zipper at the back of her dress. “Can we take this off now? I have this uncontrollable urge to be fruitful and multiply.”
“Do you really?” She straightened up, clearly surprised.
She’d read a deeper meaning into his frivolous comment than he intended, but he paused. The topic did warrant discussion.
“Not at this moment, but eventually, yes. What about you?”
“I assumed you didn’t want more children. You seem so satisfied with Sean.”
“One thing we’re both going to have to learn,” he said, “is to communicate better, not to assume anything. If you’re uncertain about something, just ask.”
“Are you saying you would like to have another child? Sean’s a joy, I know, but except for the conception part, babies are not conducive to romance. Diapers and colic and midnight feedings... They’re a lot of work.”
“I wouldn’t mind experiencing all the things I missed with Sean. I want to see your stomach swell with my child inside it.” He paused to pat her tummy with his hand and stroke lower. “I want to witness the birth of a baby conceived in love and see you nurture our son or daughter at your breast.” He cupped her breasts in his palms and rubbed his thumbs across her nipples.
Kara hugged him. “I’m sorry I kept so much from you.”
“No, don’t feel that way. Sean is so much more than I ever expected to share with you. If we don’t have another child in a year or two, I won’t let regrets shadow the happiness we have.”
“No regrets. That was the original promise we made one another, but we’ve been through a lot. Are you sure you don’t have any?”
“Well...” He hesitated. “Maybe just one.”
“What do you regret?” She looked startled and he smiled. He really shouldn’t tease her.
“Nothing, except...Well, maybe the tattoos.”
She relaxed against him, and they laughed together as he returned his attention to her zipper. The dress slid from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. He was gratified to see he’d been right. Very sexy underwear. It would be a shame to remove it, but some things just had to be done. He unfastened the front clasp of her bra and pushed the lacy straps down her arms.
While he toyed with her breasts, she removed his tie, jacket, and shirt. He was more entranced than he had been the first time, when he’d had no expectations beyond the night. This time, his expectations included forever.
When they stood naked together, Kara glowed like a moon goddess. She reached up and traced the scar on his chin. “Thank you. For healing me, for loving me and giving me life.”
“No thanks are necessary.” He smiled in memory of the coincidence that had first united them. “It was my pleasure.”
“Let my thanks be your pleasure, too,” she whispered, repeating words she’d said that first night.
As the first shimmer of love began four years earlier on a deck under a starry night, so began their eternity.
Thank you!
Thank you for reading, Winning Wyatt, the first book in the Billionaire Brotherhood Series!
The best way of sharing your opinion is to write a review of the book at Amazon or other online reviewing sites. All reviews, good or bad, are encouraged and appreciated!
For information and notification about the details of these and other books by me will hit the virtual bookshelves, please visit www.jaciefloyd.com and sign up for my newsletter. Subscribing to the newsletter will enter you into a monthly drawing for an autographed copy of one my books or other fabulous prizes.
I’m always delighted to hear from readers. My Facebook author page can be found at https://www.facebook.com/JacieFloyd and you can follow me on Twitter at: @jaciefloyd
Books by Jacie Floyd
The Good Riders Series--Available now!
MEET YOUR MATE
CURSED BY LOVE
MEANT FOR ME
Boxed Set: SUMMER KISSES
Ten Full-length Novels by Golden Heart Authors, including Meet Your Mate
&
nbsp; Pre-order now, August 11 Release
The Billionaire Brotherhood
DARING DYLAN, October 2015 Release
REMAKING RYAN, January 2016 Release
Daring Dylan Excerpt
Chapter One
With his head down and his mouth clamped shut, Dylan Bradford plunged through the crowd of paparazzi snapping his picture and pelting questions at him outside his building.
“Dylan, where’s Maya?”
“Are you getting married?”
“How do you feel about your mother’s death?”
How did the vultures think he felt? He felt like planting a right hook in a reporter’s face. Instead, he plunged into the back of the limo as one of them asked, “What are you going to do now?” The chauffeur blocked out the paparazzi’s buzz with a slam of the door.
“What do they expect me to say?” he asked his sister and her husband. “That I’m going to Disney World?” He kissed Natalie’s cheek and reached across her to slap palms with Linc as the car eased into Manhattan’s gridlock traffic.
The asinine questions probably grated on him worse than usual because he didn’t have answers to some of them. Not to the ones about Maya. If he wanted his personal life to headline the next edition of the supermarket tabloids, he could have announced that the relationship—if it ever could have been called that—was toast.
But what the hell was he going to do now? More of the same, damn it, when what he needed was a diversion, or a challenge... Maybe, even a crusade. Some deserving or demanding outlet to channel all this pent up energy.
“There wasn’t a media circus outside our apartment.” Linc stretched his long legs out in front of him.
Natalie rubbed the baby bump that harbored her second child and made a theatrical grimace. “We just have to face it, honey. We aren’t blessed with my brother’s style, looks, or charisma.”
A stab of sorrow ambushed Dylan as their mother’s sense of mischief haunted him from his younger sister’s blue eyes.
Slouching down in the seat, he pushed the emotion away. God knew the day ahead would be long and difficult enough without breaking out the tissues just yet. “Some blessings carry a curse, you know.”
“It’s being named one of People Magazine’s ten most eligible bachelors that draws all the attention.” Her smile revealed her dimple. “If you really want the press to lose interest, you could marry Maya.”
“Don’t you start on me, too. It’s bad enough when they do it.” Dylan jerked a thumb toward the photographers keeping pace alongside the car.
He loved Natalie and Linc, but he was in no mood to be teased about his pseudo-celebrity status. Especially not by them.
It wasn’t their fault they had everything that eluded him. He was happy for them, really, with their successful careers, loving marriage, two-year old son, and baby girl on the way.
He’d set the same goals for himself once upon a time, but nepotism at its finest meant gaining a partnership in his maternal grandfather’s stock brokerage hadn’t taken much effort. His boredom with the dating scene had him doubting the right woman would ever come along. And that little detail left his hopes for marriage and fatherhood exactly nowhere.
When Bradfords marry, his grandfather used to say, they marry for keeps. Because there had never been a divorce in the long Bradford history, Dylan had always been encouraged to sow his wild oats, the way his father and grandfather had, before settling down.
But now, with his mother’s death weighing on him, Dylan felt trapped in a meaningless lifestyle. And critical of the self-centered women he dated—like supermodel Maya Griffin. He wouldn’t mind the idea of settling down with someone cool, confident, and capable. Smart, stylish, and sophisticated. Like his mother and sister.
But women like them were few and far between in his social circle.
He stared out the window as they left Manhattan, concerned that the all-show, no-substance women he dated reflected the kind of man he’d become. His gray mood darkened even more, like the stormy sky overhead.
“My cousin from Houston will be here next month.” Linc broke the silence with studied casualness. “Remember meeting Victoria last Christmas?”
Oh, God, save him from matchmaking friends and relatives. “I think so. Tall? Blonde? Interested in horses and...” He searched his memory. “Decorating?”
“Fashion design. That’s why she’s moving to New York.” Natalie exchanged a conspiratorial look with Linc. “And since we’ll have our hands full with a new baby, we’re hoping you might show her around.”
Dylan began a knee-jerk refusal, then stopped. Although Natalie had been trying to fix him up for years, it was unlike Linc to interfere. They must like this girl, and clearly, he wasn’t having any luck finding the right woman on his own. He sighed and slouched lower. “Let me know when she gets here.”
Linc reached around Natalie to pound Dylan’s shoulder. “You won’t regret it.”
“If I do, I’ll make sure you do, too,” he warned. “And don’t prepare the pre-nup just yet. I’m only agreeing to meet her, that’s all.”
Following an elbow to the ribs and a speaking look from Natalie, Linc backed off.
“I understand.”
Natalie snuggled closer to her husband and turned to Dylan. “Why do you think Lawrence wants to see us after the will’s read today?”
“Maybe he intends to advise us on investments or tax issues,” Dylan offered.
“You’re the financial whiz kid. He’s more likely to ask for your advice.” She rested her crossed her arms on her tummy and studied him. “You know more than you’re saying, don’t you? Tell me.”
“Go ahead,” Linc said. “You know she won’t let up until you do.”
“Mother warned me that Karen Hammonds—“
“Dad’s publicist, before he died,” Natalie explained for Linc’s benefit.
“—has penned an exposé of life on the campaign trail with Dad. You know how protective Mom was of his reputation.”
“That witch!” Natalie bit out. “Who cares what she has to say after all this time? Anything she knows about Dad is more than twenty years old and probably a lie.”
“If there was any dirty laundry lurking around out there, someone would have aired it a long time ago. So Lawrence’s request to meet with us may not have anything to do with Karen.” Noting the circles under Natalie’s eyes, he wished he hadn’t speculated. “How are you holding up? If you want to skip out on this appointment today, just say so. Lawrence will wait, if we ask him to.”
She crossed her eyes at him. “Dylan, I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”
He knew sympathy would fail beneath her hormonally rampant mood swings, but he gave it a shot. “Yesterday’s funeral has worn us all down, especially after the strain of Mother’s illness. Pregnancy must increase the pressure.”
Natalie pursed her lips. “Actually, the pregnancy soothes me, the way being with Josh does. It makes me feel a special bond with Mom and Dad. And kind of proud to know that I’m extending their legacy.” Tears welled. “Does that sound like the ultimate conceit?”
“Not at all, love.” Linc gave her his handkerchief along with a reassuring squeeze. “It’s sweet.”
And just like that, Dylan felt that pang again. The one he’d felt a lot lately. The one that made him feel so isolated and alone.
Elegant-as-a-maestro, attorney Lawrence Sutton arranged himself behind the Louis XIV desk that now belonged to Natalie—along with the rest of Margaret Bradford’s New Haven estate. Nat and Linc sat opposite Lawrence in matching Chippendale chairs. Dylan hovered behind them, too tense to sit.
All of the will’s bequeaths and legacies had been announced earlier. No big surprises, but now Dylan geared himself up for whatever bombshell Lawrence had saved just for them.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your mother’s death.” Lawrence removed his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his aristocratic nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I se
rved her interests to the best of my abilities and pledge to do the same for you.”
“Thank you,” Natalie said. “Mother appreciated your loyalty, and so do we.”
“I must tell you, your mother recently asked me to handle a couple of matters for her in a way that went against my advice.” He paused for a sip of coffee. “Shortly before her illness was diagnosed—about the time the four of you began sifting through the nominees for this year’s Foundation awards...” He delayed to sip again.
“Lawrence,” Dylan prodded.
The old man steepled his fingers together and drew a deep breath. “There are two final pieces of business your mother wanted me to share with you in private. One of them is regarding a holding she left for Dylan.”
“What else is there?” For tax purposes, she’d divvied up most of her personal property years ago. There was nothing else that he and Natalie needed or wanted. And the Matthew Bradford Foundation was well funded.
“The cabin in East Langden, Maine.” Lawrence drew the words out with all due gravity. “Where your father died.”
Gripping Linc’s hand with white knuckles, Natalie gasped. “That can’t be right. The cabin belonged to the Bradford side of the family.”
“I guess it belonged to Dad, and it went to her along with his other holdings.” Dylan’s thoughts raced full speed ahead, but only questions with no answers emerged from the chaos inside his brain. “But why didn’t she get rid of it at some point? It seems like it would have been more appropriate for Grandfather or Uncle Arthur to have maintained it all this time.”
Natalie frowned. “And why not tell us about it?”
“As far as I know, she’d only been there a handful of times, and that was before Dad’s death.” Dylan rubbed his temple where pulsing tension had developed into a sharp staccato.