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Honest Betrayal

Page 26

by Girard, Dara


  Brenna stepped back breathless, holding onto his shoulders to steady herself. “Well, it’s nice to have you home.”

  A dimple winked. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Did you kiss me to make sure I didn’t have the taste of any lovers on my lips?”

  His gaze darkened at her accuracy. “Would I have to worry?”

  “No. No current lovers.” An ex-lover perhaps, but she’d leave that for later.

  He kissed her again, surprised by how much he enjoyed it. Did other men enjoy coming home to their wives this much? He lifted her chin. “You look tired.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “I don’t want you doing any more commercials.”

  “But—”

  “This isn’t a discussion.”

  Brenna made a face. “If you’re going to be autocratic, perhaps I should send you away again.”

  Hunter smiled. “No, I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. How is Stephen?”

  “Out on bail. He’s got an attorney.”

  “Good. What’s his name?”

  She tugged on her earring. “It’s going to be a tough case to defend.”

  “I’m sure. What’s his name?”

  “Mom’s really worried, naturally. We’re doing our best to keep it together. We’ve never gone through anything like this before.”

  Hunter’s tone grew sharp. “What’s his name?”

  “Byron Suncliff,” she said in a rush. “Mother hired him. I probably would have strangled him if Miles hadn’t convinced me otherwise.”

  “Miles? Did he come by while I was away?”

  “A few times. He’s wonderful, I couldn’t have...” She trailed off as his expression grew more impassive. “Anyway I’m meeting with him tomorrow for lunch.”

  “I see,” he said quietly. Too quiet for her to read his tone.

  “He’s been so kind attending my speeches and encouraging me. He’s a good man.”

  Hunter drew away and stood by the window. He pulled back the drapery and stared out at the evening sky. “I’m glad.”

  Brenna bit her lip, watching him. Something was wrong. She wished she could figure out what. “Hunter?”

  He heard the sound of worry in her voice and turned. He’d heard that note of worry in Angie’s voice too. He had to remember not to scare her. He smiled, trying to allay her fears. “Everything’s fine, Brenna.” He rubbed his knuckles. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you trust me more than anyone else?”

  She felt he was asking her another question if only she knew what. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He nodded then said almost absently, “So you’re having lunch with Miles tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” He headed for the door. “I hope you enjoy yourself.”

  For some reason she didn’t believe him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Miles had no warning. One moment he was in his seat. The next he was up in the air hanging by his collar.

  Dark brown eyes pierced his own. “What do you think you’re doing?” Hunter asked.

  He gasped. “Release me and I’ll tell you.”

  Hunter considered the request then dropped him.

  Miles fell to the ground. He held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t want to fight.”

  “Shame,” Hunter said softly. “because I do.”

  Miles scrambled to his feet. “Is this about Brenna?”

  “No, this is about secrets. This is about lunch dates you’ve had with my wife.”

  “They weren’t a secret.”

  His tone hardened. “They were a secret to me.” He leaned against the desk. “Why didn’t you encourage her to call me?”

  “Why didn’t you call her?”

  “I didn’t know anything was wrong,” he said annoyed. “She was supposed to call me.”

  “How was she to know that?”

  “Because I’m her husband.”

  Miles straightened his collar. “Perhaps if you say it enough you’ll start acting like one.” He folded his arms. “Why are you here anyway?”

  “I wanted to get a few things clear.”

  “Or maybe you’re jealous?”

  Hunter sat on the desk and toyed with a ruler, his tone laced with steel. “You know I don’t like people who play games with me.”

  “I didn’t realize losing your wife was considered a game.”

  Hunter tapped the ruler against his knee. “That was a very bad move.”

  A smile tugged on Mile’s mouth. “I think it was very clever actually. You need to be aware of what you might lose. I’ve done you a great service by standing in the way of a more worthy opponent.”

  “Byron.”

  Miles raised a brow surprised. “So she told you. That’s a good sign.”

  He put the ruler down and swore with feeling. “I know.”

  “Still ready to snap my head off or can I come off the defensive?”

  Hunter began to pace, irritated that Doran’s words had gotten to him. He had always prided himself on acting reasonable. “I apologize.”

  Miles studied his friend then rested a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Byron’s a problem.”

  “You mean a threat?”

  “Could be.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “No, it’s more the situation than the people involved that pose the trouble.”

  He scowled. “The situation? What is this? A play?”

  Miles snapped his fingers. “That’s an excellent way to see it.” He held up his hands. “Now try to follow me. You’re the husband away in battle leaving the wife home alone in the castle. Her brother is charged with treason. She doesn’t know what to do then a knight comes to her rescue. A knight she’s loved before. Now it’s up to you how the story will end.”

  “What if the husband returns home and kills the knight?”

  Miles tried not to laugh, knowing his friend was serious. “Try for a less blood thirsty ending.”

  Hunter rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”

  ***

  Brenna scanned the contents of a new file, still confused by her lunch with Miles. He must have read a book on medieval life because he kept referring to castles and knights. She’d smiled with interest although none of it made sense to her. She would give him a book on the time period for his birthday.

  “You have a visitor,” Margaret said.

  “Send them in,” Brenna said absently. She glanced up when the door opened. Her eyes widened. “Dad!”

  Crampton shuffled into the office. “Hello, Brenna.”

  She came from behind the desk, smiling. “Come in. Sit down. It’s so nice to see you.”

  He hung his cane on the back of the chair then sat. He stared up at her.

  “So?” she asked.

  He glanced around. “Nice office.”

  “Thank you.” She sat behind her desk and waited.

  “I saw your commercial,” he said.

  Her heart began to race. Did he like it? Was he proud of her? “Oh really?”

  “It made things clear for me.”

  “What things?”

  “Why Randolph married you.”

  Her heart fell, dashing all hopes. She kept her voice light. “What are you suggesting?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.

  He folded his arms, his face pensive. “I couldn’t figure it out at first. I wanted to believe it was love, but something in me knew otherwise. Now I know the truth. I don’t blame you. I know you wanted to get married and you certainly found a way.” He pointed a finger at her. “However, I didn’t raise a daughter who exhibits herself for profit.”

  Her lips thinned. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t raise me at all.”

  “I’m your—”

  “I know who you are. However, I cannot believe you have the audacity to come in here and scold me.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Sc
old you? I’m here to warn you. You think it will stop with a commercial? No way. Soon they’ll want you to write a book and then go around the country

  parading your leg like a side show.”

  “The commercial was my idea, and I’m proud of my involvement. The Trandor cane is an excellent product and I recognized that I was the perfect candidate to market it. I’m not ashamed of who I am.”

  “Well, you should be! Heaven knows I am.”

  Brenna replied with silence. A cold silence that made Crampton shift awkwardly in his seat.

  “So that’s why you came?” she asked softly. “To make sure that I stayed as unhappy as you are? Everything was okay as long as I stayed behind my desk and kept quietly single. That’s all you expected of me. But my success is showing you all the things you didn’t do with your life.”

  His gaze fell.

  “Dad, can’t we get past this, please? Can’t you just accept me and be happy for me?”

  He met her eyes. “Does he love you?”

  “We’re not talking about my marriage we’re talking about us.”

  He sniffed scornful. “He doesn’t. I can tell by your voice. I agree that I compromised my life. I’m not proud of that. And your success does make me ashamed of the choices I’ve made.” He leaned forward smug. “But think of your own choices. Aren’t you doing the same? You’re settling because you don’t think you can get better.”

  “What I have is good enough for me,” she said in clipped tones. “And that’s all we’ll say on the topic.”

  “What about your brother?”

  There wasn’t a moment that went by that she didn’t think of him. Worry about him. “Things will work out.”

  “You’re optimistic.”

  “I don’t have the privilege to be otherwise.”

  “He’s got himself in quite a mess.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  He shrugged. “I have nothing to say.”

  Her lip curled. “Not even ‘Hello son’?”

  “I’m not good with words.”

  “You had plenty a few moments ago.”

  He fiddled with his cane. “I want you to be happy, just not this way.”

  She turned to her computer. “The door is behind you.”

  “It was just—”

  “I said the door is behind you,” she repeated firmly. “You can come back when you learn to be a father.”

  His voice shook with an anger she’d never heard before. “How can I be a father when you won’t treat me like one? You say you forgive me, but when I offer advice you keep reminding me that I was never around. You want me to be proud of you, but you’re ashamed of me. I am not perfect but by God I love my children to my bones. I left because I couldn’t be what I wanted to be for you. I don’t understand you Brenna and I don’t understand your brother but that doesn’t stop me from caring about you. I’m here because I don’t want to see you mistreated by anyone. I don’t care how much money he’s got, how much power they have. You deserve to be loved Brenna.” Tears fell down his face. “You’re my little girl and that’s the one lesson I want to teach you. So listen good. You deserve to be loved.”

  Brenna watched her father leave as she swallowed back tears.

  ***

  Stephen stared at Byron as he went over his notes. He hadn’t changed from the man who everyone had touted as Brenna’s savior. The family had been shocked when Byron had asked her out. But Stephen had never quite trusted his reasons for dating Brenna. Not that he was surprised anyone would be interested in his sister. Byron just didn’t seem the type. He appeared open and carefree, but Stephen always wondered if it was genuine. Even now he wondered about Byron’s reasons for taking the case.

  “Are you here because of Brenna?”

  Byron glanced up and flashed a grin. “That’s immaterial.”

  Stephen sent him a cool look. “Is that lawyer-speak for none of your business?”

  His smile fell. “Do you want to talk about something?”

  “Yea, why you’re here. You read about my case I know. Did you want to help me or impress Brenna?”

  “Both.”

  “Why? I’m sure before you came here you knew she was married.”

  “Yes. I was surprised.”

  “Why? Because you didn’t want to marry her?”

  He hesitated. “No.”

  “She told me she’d proposed.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why did you say no?”

  He shrugged. “I was young. I thought it was a risk.”

  “Thought what was a risk?”

  “A family.”

  Stephen’s face cleared in understanding. “You—”

  “I was being honest.”

  “Fortunately, Hunter’s a bigger man than that.”

  “Maybe or maybe he just knows how to use her to his advantage.”

  “He’s not using her.”

  Byron stroked his chin. “I’ve seen her commercials.”

  “That’s not why he married her.”

  Byron only smiled.

  ***

  Hunter had dreaded this moment for weeks. But he could no longer deny the facts in front of him. He shut off his computer and went to his father’s office.

  “Come in.” Curtis glanced up at him then back at his desk. “Yes?”

  He sat down. “I know what you’re doing with the inventory.”

  Curtis didn’t ask what, why or how he knew. He just stared at his son across the desk with a bored expression. “And why should that be a concern to me?”

  “Your little set up won’t be safe for long. This isn’t a threat, just a warning. I’ll give you a month to get things in order.”

  A cold smile spread over his face. “The fact that you’re here tells me that you don’t know anything. You disappoint me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Hunter frowned confused by the anger under his tone. “I’m trying to save you.”

  “I don’t need you to save me. Who are you going to tell? People already know. Even your beloved grandfather. So why don’t you do us all a favor and go back to your room and behave like the good little boy we’re paying you to be.”

  “But this is wrong.”

  “A matter of judgment. I consider what you’re doing wrong. You’ve forgotten your duty.”

  “I know my duty.”

  “And your duty is to protect the family.”

  “It’s my duty to make sure this company—”

  “Runs the way it’s always run. You’re not a company spy so go back and do your job. I’d hate to see you lose it.”

  “Would you?”

  Curtis merely blinked. Hunter nodded then left. Once he was gone, Curtis picked up the phone. “He came and made a threat.”

  “What will he do?” Orson said.

  “He didn’t say. I don’t need him breathing down my neck. Make him back off.”

  Orson laughed at his son’s uneasiness. “Don’t worry. I will.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Somehow Brenna always knew he would come. She never knew when just that he would. So Brenna was not surprised when Mrs. Symnthon found her in the library one Saturday morning to tell her she had a visitor. She doubted it was a coincidence that Hunter was at work that day and she was alone. She composed herself and entered the sitting room where Orson stood by the window. It was a large arc structure that framed the landscape. It now framed him like a portrait of a man of power. He was still a big man, despite the years, with the physical build of a much younger one.

  “This is a surprise,” Brenna said, taking a seat.

  He didn’t turn when she entered. He watched a passing robin.

  “Would you like anything to drink?”

  He lifted his glass. “I’ve been sufficiently refreshed thank you.” He fell quiet again. He was a man who knew the power of silence and used it well. After a few more moments she stood, determined not to play his game.

  “Hunter is at work,�
� he said when she reached the door.

  “I know.”

  “He will make an excellent company President one day.”

  She sat and smoothed out her skirt, knowing his statement didn’t require a reply.

  He abruptly turned. “Do you love him?”

  His question did not startle her as it was meant to. She merely stared back.

  “He doesn’t love you.”

  “I am fully aware of his feelings towards me.”

  He sniffed. “Or his lack of.”

  She met his piercing gaze straight on. “The truth doesn’t wound me so you may as well try another tactic.”

  Orson flashed a cool grin. “Full of iron, aren’t you? Like your cane?” His eyes trailed the length of her. “There’s no softness in you. You’ve spent too many years protecting yourself.”

  “Don’t waste my time with your analysis. Get to the point.”

  “I’m offering you a kindly warning. You’ve been asking about his mother. I want you to stop.”

  “You want me to stop. Is that your warning?” Brenna sighed with feigned disappointment. “I’d expected more.”

  “I’m a very powerful man.”

  “Yes,” she agreed with an unwavering stare. “And you wield your power well, but not over me.”

  “You don’t know that yet.”

  “You use his past against him. Why? What are you trying to protect?”

  “His past is best forgotten.”

  She drummed her fingers on the head of her cane. “Let’s try to come to an understanding. We’re two intelligent people I’m sure we can find some common ground.”

  “Then let’s understand that the common ground you stand on belongs to me.”

  Brenna let her gaze roam to the window. She knew it was best not to antagonize one’s enemy. Like staring a bear in the eye, it only invited more violence. “In a way I admire you. You’re a man who struggled. A Southern boy, whose father had been a man who’d come back from the war more as a commander than a family man. Your mother was little more than a shadow. You lived in a time when your limitations where sanctioned by a government. By the complacency of an entire nation.” She moved her gaze to a light in the corner and kept her voice free of pity. “You saw your father fight for a country that’d still shoot him in the street if they had the opportunity.”

 

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