“Yes. No. I don’t know.” This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life—or one of two—and she’d never felt so close to bursting into tears. She had no ring, no fiancé, no idea what to expect out of the evening except for some kind of surprise and everyone she’d ever known in attendance. She was pretty sure at least half of them had come to see what kind of a spectacle she’d make of herself, how far she’d fall now that she’d risen so high.
Not that she blamed them. She was rather curious on that subject herself.
“Oh, darling. Surely it’s not that confusing. Either he loves you or he doesn’t.”
“It’s not that easy, unfortunately. You have to understand how the Montgomery mind works. The people in this family don’t do things in half measures. There are times when I’m absolutely certain Jake means to propose tonight, and there are times when I get the feeling I’m just a project he’s putting the final touches on.”
“A project? Jake?”
“He thinks I’m his responsibility. He has from the start.”
“Then that’s your answer right there. Jake Montgomery has never been responsible for anything since the day he was born.”
Becca smiled and nodded, but she knew no amount of explaining would bring Livvie around to her point of view. Because the reality was that Jake was one of the most responsible people she’d ever met, second only to his father.
It was why he’d spent so much of his life avoiding any and all claims of adulthood. His subconscious mind knew, even if he didn’t, that when he took on a task—whether it was getting dressed in the morning or winning a bet or pretending to fall in love—he would see it through to completion. He couldn’t leave a loose thread any more than he could stop breathing, and rather than become like the man who’d sired him, a man who picked up every responsibility that came his way, he’d picked up none.
Until she came along.
“Well, I still say that’s not the right shade of pink for you, but you look delicious.” Livvie straightened the dress with a grin. “If he hasn’t popped the question yet, it’s only because he hasn’t caught a glimpse of the killer side boob you’ve got going on over there.”
Becca groaned. “No man is moved to commit to a life of monogamy because of side boob.”
“And it’s a good thing too,” Livvie said. “If every man who’s seen my tits felt the urge to propose marriage, I’d be in real trouble.”
* * *
“You look amazing.” Jake had to stop himself from grabbing the ring out of his pocket and falling to his knees right there at the base of the stairs. Becca made an entrance worthy of a woman used to the limelight, her steps smooth and confident, her dress a playful mixture of propriety and in-your-face scandal. She was every inch herself.
She was gorgeous.
“Why, thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
He’d taken considerable pains to get dressed for the engagement party, aware that he and Becca would be on the receiving end of a hundred dull, well-meaning compliments—as well as the flash of Greg’s camera, omnipresent and eager to catch them at either their best or their worst. And that was fine. Jake had taken his father’s words in the office the other day to heart. If he needed to make a highly public impression on the world in exchange for the right to direct his life the way he saw fit, then he’d pour himself into a tuxedo and do just that.
He only hoped Becca would consent to do it with him.
Alex and Ryan had been recruited to stand guard outside either door to the foyer where Becca was making her grand entrance, affording him a necessary few minutes of privacy to get this right. He couldn’t count the number of times his family and well-meaning guests had asked why Becca wasn’t wearing her engagement ring, but no amount of prodding on their part would get him to hurry. There would be no party unless she said yes, which meant getting her to say yes was going to happen if he had to take four days to get it right. The rest of them could drink champagne and wait.
He took her hand and helped her down the last step, refusing to give up his hold on that delicate assemblage of bones and muscle and skin. Her hand was small in his, but strong—something he’d failed to recognize when he first offered to take care of her. She was stronger than him in every possible way. It had been ridiculous to think she could ever need him the way he needed her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, when he took a moment to gain his bearings. His pulse leaped in ways that were entirely new to him, agonizing and exciting and scared all at once. This is what it feels like to put your life in someone else’s hands, he realized. This is what it means to truly let go.
“Nothing is wrong, Becca. Not anymore. Not after tonight.” He smiled as her eyes flew open, her mouth falling in surprise. She knew what was coming—how could she not know?—but he appreciated that she could still be as flustered by this as he was. This was new territory for them both. “That day in New York, the day we had the ring resized, I promised you there’d only be one more surprise, one more unfinished matter to take care of.”
Her breath caught, and he pulled her to him in a warm embrace. “I’m a control freak and I’m arrogant and I wait until other people make mistakes before I swoop in and show them up. I’ll never be good at punching a time clock or putting others first. In fact, the only thing I’ve been able to do with any success is take care of you. Which is why—”
He was interrupted when the door guarded by Ryan swung open to reveal a squat, powerful-looking man striding toward them with his hand thrust in his pocket. It took a second to recognize the figure as Dana Carstairs.
“I tried to stop him, but...” Ryan, also dressed for the evening’s events in a tux, wasn’t too far behind. “He insisted he had to talk to you. He said you’d want to see him.”
“There you are,” Dana said, not slowing down. “Why’s it so fucking hard to find you in your own house?”
Jake had no immediate reply. He’d been too focused on his proposal and the woman in his arms, and he was having a hard time switching his emotions over. He, the man who was never at a loss for words. He, the man who never let anything or anyone catch him off guard.
Becca was much quicker to pick up on the change in the room. Her face drained of all color as Dana approached, and she pulled away from him with a sharp cry. “Jake? What is this?”
“It’s...” The words died away. He had no idea what this was.
“Okay. I’m here.” Dana planted his feet in front of them, arms crossed over his chest. Like everyone else in attendance, he was dressed up for the night in a well-cut suit and red power tie, but no amount of polish would make him look like anything more than a thug.
Seeing him standing there, glaring mulishly, it was difficult for Jake to remember just what it was about this man that had once attracted him. Dana was amusing and wealthy—two qualities he used to think mattered—but a lifetime of self-indulgent dissipation had also rendered him cruel.
Jake wasn’t sure he cared to consider how far along that same path he must have been not to recognize it before.
“What now?” Dana barked. “Do you want me to apologize? Beg for forgiveness?”
Jake’s attention came back with a snap. The first thing he needed to do was get this man out of here. He didn’t care for the way his heartbeat was picking up in the other man’s presence, like iron fillings reacting to a magnet—and he really didn’t care for the way Becca had turned an unnaturally pale shade of white, setting off the color of her dress in stark contrast.
“I believe both of those things are in order, but not to me,” he said coolly, and gestured for Ryan to step closer. He knew the chauffeur’s stocky strength would come in handy someday. “I’m not the one you hurt.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Dana cast a look of loathing at Becca. “I didn’t get a detailed itinerary along with my invita
tion.”
“Itinerary? Invitation?” Becca wasn’t getting any of her color back, and she stepped away from Jake by a distance of several feet. It might as well have been miles. “You invited him to our engagement party? This is your surprise? The final hurrah?”
“Of course not. This isn’t the final anything.” It was the start. It was the beginning of their lives together.
“Look—I’m sorry, all right? Will that make you feel better? Will that get you off my back?” Dana’s voice rose to a dangerous level, and Jake could see that a few people were streaming in through the open doors to locate the source of the yelling. It was almost fitting, having an audience gathering for this. The people would always love a good Rebecca Clare scandal.
Jake shook his head in warning, but Dana either missed or chose not to see the dangerous gleam in his eyes.
“It’s not like I even did anything illegal. I was the last to see Sara that night, I admit, but I didn’t put the pills in her mouth. I didn’t hold the bottle to her lips. I’m sorry she took things hard, but you can’t hold me accountable for her actions. She was already messed up by the time I got my hands on her.”
It was the worst possible excuse Dana could have offered—tantamount to standing idly by and snapping photos while a teenager was harassed in the park—and Jake reacted the same way as he had that day with Greg. It wasn’t all right to ignore someone else’s suffering because it was convenient. It wasn’t all right to hurt the woman he loved.
With a firm step forward, he prepared to lay Dana flat and have Ryan drag him out by his heels, if that was what it would take to get him out of their lives for good. He’d get a restraining order. He’d hire someone to find Dana’s darkest secrets—have him locked away for tax evasion if he had to.
“Don’t you dare,” Becca said. He assumed she was talking to Dana, but when he looked over at her, her full anger was turned his way. He recoiled at the power of it—at the pain of it. The only other time he’d seen her like that was when she’d attacked first Dana and then Trish. This was the pain of when she’d been pushed to the brink. This was the pain he’d promised himself he’d spend the rest of his life trying to save her from.
And it was directed at him.
“I can’t believe this is what you thought I wanted. Revenge. Closure. An eye for an eye.” The pain turned to tears, and he found himself drowning in them, choking as he struggled for air. Why was it so difficult for him to find the words? He was good at words, at saying what people wanted to hear.
“Becca—” he pleaded.
But she shook her head, her expression brittle. “You have no idea, do you, Jake? I’m not some doll with a broken arm for you to tape back on or a closet you need to rearrange. I’m a person.” She lowered her voice so that only the two of them could hear. “I’m the person who trusted you. I’m the person who loved you.”
Jake didn’t know what to do. He was being pulled too many directions at once. He wanted to haul Dana out by the seat of his pants. Clear the room, telling everyone to get their kicks at someone else’s expense for a change. Take Becca into his arms and tell her how wholly and completely she was loved back.
Fuck this. Action, not reaction. He was going to do all three.
“All right, everyone. Show’s over.” He made eye contact with Alex and Ryan, and they took his hint almost immediately. They transformed into a pair of tuxedoed bouncers and began corralling the guests back into the ballroom. “Except you, Dana. You stay put.”
The man halted in the middle of beating a hasty retreat, unable to back down from the command in Jake’s voice. “You’ll stay here until we have a chance to chat,” he said. “Don’t you dare try to leave these grounds, or I’ll use the full capacity of my family’s resources to hunt you down. Nowhere is far enough for you, got it?”
Dana scowled but nodded, and Jake felt a sense of triumph fill his chest. He was beginning to see why his dad liked playing the hard-assed businessman so much. With two down and just one to go, he spun, prepared to pull Becca into his arms and whisk her out of here while she was still on two feet. If he wasn’t careful, she’d probably beat him to it and tear Dana down before he got a chance.
But as he spun again, his gaze skimming wildly over the glittering dresses departing through the open doors, he realized Becca was gone.
No. His heart stopped as he caught sight of her heading up the stairs. Not gone yet. Relief washed over him as he darted up after her. It was a moment almost worthy of thanks to deities of the northbound kind.
Becca knew the exact moment Jake flew up the stairs to follow her, his tread light and his tension high. It was about one minute too late, sixty seconds after he started cleaning up her messes again.
Given the way he was reacting, barking orders like a general, it was obvious he wanted her to stand there and wait while he adjusted the environment to his exact specifications. It was textbook Jake. Clear the room of onlookers and scandal. Force Dana to stay in place until he could wrest an apology from his lips. Try to cure Becca of her sorrow, just like everyone else, because the damaged girl inside would never be good enough.
He grabbed her roughly by the arm and twisted, forcing her to turn back and face him. “Becca—wait. I’m sorry it had to happen like this. This isn’t at all how tonight was supposed to go.”
“No? Imagine that.” She gave a bitter laugh. Poor baby. He’d probably been hoping to produce Dana all by himself, like pulling a rabbit out of his hat.
“No.” He frowned at her. “Of course it’s not. I understand that you’re upset with me, but you can’t just walk away like this. Hit me if you want to. Fly into a rage. Attack. Do something.”
“Would that make you feel better?” She’d never felt less like attacking anyone in her life—at least not anyone but herself. God, she was so stupid. Building this night up as something more. Pinning all her girlish dreams on a man like Jake. “Should I pull a Rebecca Clare for the cameras? Should I throw a tantrum in front of everyone and kick Dana in the balls? Would that work?”
The color drained from his face. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“I’m not so sure I do. From where I stand, that seems to be all you’ve ever wanted from me. As long as I’m fucking things up and overreacting, you’re perfectly happy. I think you could be happy forever that way—me breaking things, you fixing them.” She tried to tug her arm back but he held it firm. “It bothers you that I might not actually need you anymore, doesn’t it? That I might be okay without you?”
Except she wasn’t. She wasn’t okay at all. But he wouldn’t release her arm, and she didn’t know how else to get away.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you after all your careful planning, but I don’t hate Dana. I don’t feel anything as far as he’s concerned. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere between Max and Madame Pernaud and yes, even you, I figured out there were much better ways for me to expend my energies.”
“Good for you.”
“Don’t you dare patronize me.” She wouldn’t be talked down to. Not now. Not when everything else was falling apart. “Maybe this whole night is my fault for getting my hopes up, for not listening when all the signs warned me away from you, but I’m not going to act out just so you can feel like you have a purpose.”
His hand finally fell, though she felt the ghost of his fingers gripping her skin. “You aren’t even going to give me a chance to explain?”
“Explain what? I understand what you were trying to do, Jake—and a few weeks ago, I probably would have thanked you for it. You were holding up your end of the bargain, making sure I got the closure I needed.”
You were taking care of me. It was the only thing he’d ever offered, and she’d been a fool to see it as something more. A sad, pitiful fool. The type of girl she’d promised herself—promised the memory of Sara—she’d never be.
“And that’s it?” he asked, looking at her with a queer frown. “That’s all I get? Your gratitude?”
“What else do you want?” she cried, her voice tinged with desperation.
“I want you, Becca. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His frown didn’t lift. “But if this is the kind of man you think I am, then I understand why you might not want me back.”
She searched in vain for something to say, for some insight into the wild, almost frantic look in his eyes, but nothing came. All she could do as he turned and walked out of the room was watch him go, her breath suspended and her head pounding. She could have screamed or flown down the stairs after him, but what was the point?
Because you can only muffle the sound of a heart breaking for so long before it breaks everything else, a niggling voice said.
She did her best to ignore it. Her damnable intuition might be right on that score, but it didn’t take into account the fact that she was already broken to begin with. Rebecca Clare had learned a long time ago how to walk on unsteady legs. They would carry her anywhere she needed to go.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Becca quickly realized there was nowhere in this house full of hundreds of people she could go to be alone. Guests spilled out from the ballroom, taking up residence in hallways and drawing rooms. The staff area was a hub of activity tonight. And Jake’s room was of course out of the question.
The only place she might have been assured of some peace and quiet was the nursery, but Serena had a night nurse who seemed pretty vigilant in her care of the youngest Montgomerys.
She slid through a hallway on the first floor, bypassing the ballroom in hopes of a closet somewhere she could hide, but most of the doors were locked tight. How ironic that this giant manor, this fortress where she’d felt so protected a few days ago, had now become a house of mirrors.
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