Disguised with the Millionaire (Dangerous Millionaires Series Book 2)

by Debra Andrews

  A crewmember directed everyone to the dining room for dinner. Lobster, fish, and steak were on the main menu. Kate didn’t think she’d be able to eat much of anything.

  One member of the staff set a special diet plate before James. James picked up a carrot and wrinkled his nose at the rest of the healthy food. “Ah, this is what happens when you live to the ripe old age of seventy-eight. They conspire and feed you tasteless food.” He crunched on a carrot. “I should have been a rabbit.”

  “Now, James,” Eden said with a smirk, “I told the cook, no more steak. We want you around for a long time.”

  The elderly man sighed. “I may die of culinary boredom.”

  The rest of the conversation was mostly between James Farrington, Trent’s mother, Cecilia, and Frank Blake.

  To Kate, the dinner seemed to last forever as she picked at her food. When it was over, everyone returned to the tables outside on the deck. Decaffeinated coffee was served and the glasses of wine refilled.

  James Farrington said over his coffee cup, “I suppose you all are curious to know the real reason I brought you all here. We should get on with the meeting. Don’t you think so, Frank?”

  Blake sipped his wine before setting down the glass. “All right, James. Have you considered my offer to buy the company?”

  “Yes. It’s a little low. However, my health is not as good as it used to be. I’m willing to put the past behind us, Frank, and consider your offer.”

  Kate gasped, along with Mrs. Farrington. Cecilia’s and Roland’s mouths dropped open.

  “Are you serious?” Trent jumped to his feet, his eyes revealing his shock. “You can’t do that without consulting the rest of us.”

  “I own the company,” his grandfather pointed out.

  Trent pounded his fist on the table. “You’re willing to forget that generations of Farringtons built the company, not to mention when Blake quit he absconded with a fourth of our clients? And, now, who the hell knows what else he’s been up to. We’ve had problems lately on our sites.”

  Blake clenched his hands on the arms of his chair. “See here, Trent. I had nothing to do with your problems. Don’t blame me.”

  Trent jutted his face toward the man who he considered their enemy. “I’ve never been certain of anything where you are concerned, Blake.”

  Stunned, Kate couldn’t believe James would do this to Trent. Trent loved the company. She noticed Roland’s face reddened, but he didn’t offer any protest to the sale. Why wasn’t he just as upset as his cousin to be losing the company he thought he’d inherit?

  James narrowed his eyes. “Trent, I’m as serious as a man can be. You, of all people know where I stand on the issues with this family.” He folded his hands like a steeple on the table. “Frank, here are my concerns. If this deal were to go through, would you keep all of the employees? I want my grandsons assured of jobs as well.”

  Cold fury rose on Trent’s face. He seemed to have trouble containing his anger. “Work for, Blake?”

  Smiling, Blake raised his wine glass in a salute. “Why, yes, of course, Trent. You have particular talents, being an architect as well as an engineer with some good ideas.”

  “That means so much to me coming from you, Blake,” Trent ground out sarcastically.

  Eden cleared her throat. “Trent, I think we should be grateful Frank wants to take over the helm of the company. You don’t need the stress.”

  Roland stood, shoving his chair away. “I think Frank coming on board would be the best thing to happen to Farrington Construction. I won’t stand in the way of that decision.” Roland took his drink and strode out of the area.

  Kate flinched with shock that Roland didn’t care for, and love, the company as much as Trent did.

  Blake chuckled and winked at Trent. “Even Roland thinks I’ll be good for the company.”

  The look Trent returned was deadly. And Kate knew what that was like.

  Blake picked up Mrs. Farrington’s hand. “I’m so glad you like the idea, Eden. You think I’ll be good for the business?”

  She smiled at him. “Yes—in spite of being a shrewd cutthroat at times.”

  Blake gave her a sharp glance. “Eden, don’t think of me that way.”

  Eden’s lips curved. “I’m wise enough to know that Trent’s not ready for the responsibility. And, heavens, Roland couldn’t run a shoe store.”

  His face ablaze with anger, Trent rose from the table and pinned his grandfather with his ire. “I can’t believe you’d sell to Blake. You want some immoral cutthroat to take over Farrington Construction?”

  Trent strode to the bar and poured another glass straight from a bottle of liquor. He tossed the amber liquid down his throat. Then he poured himself another drink. He turned to the group again. “Mother, you would trust a man who used you years ago to get to our clients and then dropped you like you were nothing?”

  Blake’s face reddened. “I-I—”

  “It’s all right, Frank.” Eden leaned across the table and patted Blake’s hand. “You’ve explained to me that all those years ago you thought I hated you after you left me.”

  The man nodded. “I couldn’t face you.”

  “You believe him?” Trent asked in a low, angry voice. “He used you to get to us—then dumped you. Damn it. He doesn’t deserve Farrington Construction now. Sell, but I won’t work for Blake.”

  James Farrington held out his hands, palms up. “Don’t make this any harder. Trent, I’ve told you I won’t hand over the company to you or Roland, as you’ve not proven yourselves responsible. You know what I require from you, but year after year, you ignore me.”

  Trent tossed down his drink and deposited the empty glass on the table. “All right.” His gaze landed on Kate and his eyes hardened as he contemplated her. Then he turned and thrust his hand toward Cecilia. “Care to take a walk with me around the yacht?”

  Suddenly Kate couldn’t breathe.

  “I’d love to.” The pretty brunette glanced at Kate, giving her a haughty tilt of her nose. Trent didn’t glance Kate’s way again.

  He stopped by the bar, thrust a bottle of whiskey under one arm, and allowed Cecilia to cling to the other.

  Kate’s stomach knotted, while a flash of grief consumed her as she watched Trent leave with Cecilia.

  * * *

  Anger seeped from every pore Trent possessed as he guided Cecilia to the staterooms. He knew exactly what his grandfather had just blackmailed him to do—sell his soul to secure their dynasty, as if they were medieval aristocrats and he had to beget their heir.

  Farrington Construction had been the one sure thing in Trent’s life, but to marry someone he had no feelings for just to keep the company––could he do it?

  Even his great-great-grandfather, Joshua Farrington, had married an English, mail-order bride, not for love, but to secure his future and to have sons. Eventually, she had become the love of his life.

  Trent felt a headache coming on. His mother was right. When it came to women, his judgment was faulty, so what difference did it make who he married? He’d run out of chances to choose his own wife. And he had been brutally burned by the only woman he thought he cared for and could trust.

  This afternoon, when Kate had boarded the boat, he’d been freshly hit by her beauty––and her betrayal. And when his treacherous body had noticed her sexually, he was angered at himself even more. He still wanted her in his bed, his traitorous, beautiful Kate, even though her duplicity had cut him like the sharpest of blades.

  He shoved his hand through his hair. Hell, she had never really been his—in bed, yes, but not in heart. It had all been a horrible game on her part. What she did to him tore him up inside. Even his dreams wouldn’t let him forget her—but he couldn’t think about her now.

  On the walk through the yacht with Cecilia, he’d considered the idea of letting the company go, and the thought sent defeat rippling through him.

  “Is something bothering you, Trent?” Cecilia broke into his thoug
hts.

  “No.” Getting quite good at lying, he steered her by her elbow. “I wanted to find a quiet place for us to talk. Will my cabin be all right with you?”

  Her eyes lit up. “You never asked me to your cabin before.” She swayed. He suspected more from drinking than the rocking of the yacht. Both were under the influence of alcohol. Planning to ask her to make the most important decision of their lives, might not be the wisest thing to do at the moment.

  Perhaps they could come to an agreement and make a marriage work for both of them. He’d explain the marriage would be a business deal. They would sleep together to have children. He’d be upfront with her that he didn’t love her, and she couldn’t expect that he ever would.

  All the happiness he thought he might have had with Kate lay like trampled dirt on a construction site. He had to forget her. She had used him, tricked him, lied to him.

  “Actress,” he swore under his breath.

  “What did you say?” Cecilia asked.

  Trent shook his head. “Nothing.” He refused to think of Kate now. She had to be wiped from his life, his heart.

  He and Cecilia would have the children his grandfather and mother wanted so desperately. Then perhaps they could live separate lives. Would she go along with that arrangement? He didn’t think so as she seemed the clingy type. That would leave his entire family and her happy—everyone except him. If he downed more whiskey, would this sound more palatable?

  Trent stopped at the galley and said to Beasley, “Send champagne and two glasses to my cabin, plus another bottle of whiskey.”

  Beasley raised a gray eyebrow.

  Trent ignored the little man and led Cecilia to his large stateroom where a crewmember set up the champagne before departing.

  Trent offered Cecilia a chair at the table. After handing her a glass of champagne, he sat down on the bed. “Do you have any idea why I brought you here? I’ve been thinking it’s time I got married.”

  Cecilia giggled and acted a little too giddy for his tastes. “And you want me? Your mother said from the beginning that eventually you’d come around and would marry me.”

  Anger sizzled inside him at how much his family interfered in his life. He looked at Cecilia. She was attractive, but he realized he had not an ounce of desire for her.

  However, he needed to take control of his company. They’d all pushed him toward this. He felt like a bastard. Cecilia deserved better than this.

  His thoughts rushed back to Kate up on the deck, a woman who definitely deserved less. Damn. He hadn’t even decided what to do about Kate. Let her go after tonight without punishment? And if she had to be punished to learn a lesson, did he want to be the one to administer that punishment, strike back at her to make her feel a little of the pain that he felt? But if that involved getting too close could he keep his hands off her?

  Cecilia moved to the bed, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek. Not only did this not feel right, he hadn’t yet told Cecilia what type of marriage this would be. He pulled away.

  She laid her hand on his thigh. “We can stay together tonight. No need to wait. I love you.”

  He sobered. “Hold on. We’re still discussing this. Did you say love? If we do marry, you understand it’s for convenience—for both of us. I’d pay your family’s debts and you…” He looked down into Cecilia’s hopeful face and felt nothing for her, except compassion. She deserved a better marriage than the one he offered.

  “If we were to go through with this,” he said flatly. “You have to know up front—I don’t love you.” He felt a dull ache of foreboding. He wanted to tell her he was sorry—that this wasn’t going to work.

  She smiled rather brilliantly. “For now, I’m not worried about you loving me. I’ll be Mrs. Trenton Farrington. I want a huge diamond ring, and for the wedding dress, I know just the designer in Paris…”

  As she rattled off more demands, Trent felt the noose tightening around his neck. Holy hell, what was he getting himself into…?

  * * *

  The yacht glided down the Intracoastal Waterway on the way home. Kate’s hands clenched on the railing, she watched the sunset on the horizon and the rippling dark waves. The breeze was chilly now, so she had slipped on her light jacket. This had to be ‘up there’ as one of the worst days in her life. She loved Trent, but to maintain control of the company, he was going to appease his grandfather.

  Feeling wretched, Kate listened to James Farrington’s voice travel in the air as he told stories about the company, the Farrington family, and especially Trent. Trent had been loved and that was so far from her own experiences as a child, without her mother to protect her. Trent would never have understood what she had to deal with growing up with her stepfather, and that she hadn’t had a choice of parents.

  Kate bit her lip. She was tempted to find Trent and to beg him not to marry Cecilia, but she knew he wouldn’t care about her opinion now. Reluctantly, she turned from the railing. Trent’s grandfather, Mrs. Farrington, and Frank Blake relaxed close by in the outdoor lounge area.

  “James, I don’t like that particular part of your story,” Eden grumbled. “You make it sound like I deserted Trent.”

  “You are his mother.”

  “I knew Trent was in good hands with you, James. He needed a father figure.”

  Kate kept glancing toward the doorway to see if Trent and Cecilia were returning.

  Frank reached over and patted Eden’s hand as she sat beside him. “I’m sure Eden was a good mother to that boy, which is what I think of him, James. He doesn’t have the experience to control this company.”

  James raised a wrinkled brow. “Of course, he seems young from your age or mine, Frank, but Trent’s thirty-two, with enormous business sense. We’re proud of him. I was younger than him when I took over. Of course, I was married and settled down. I don’t go for all this carousing and living together that young people do these days. A man and a woman need to bond for life.” James glanced at Kate. “Why don’t you join us, dear? You seem restless.”

  Kate neared the table. “Mr. Farrington! Why would you sell? You know how much Trent loves the company,” she said, surprising herself as she blurted out the words.

  Just at that moment, Trent and Cecilia neared the entrance to the back deck. Kate’s face heated. If he had overheard her sticking up for him, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  Was he going to marry Cecilia? She didn’t get a chance to analyze the couple walking toward her when Mr. Farrington gasped. He flattened his hand on his chest and fell back in his chair.

  Kate rushed to him. “Mr. Farrington…?”

  “Pressure…here,” he gasped. He placed his hand over his heart.

  “Oh, dear,” Eden cried.

  Trent strode up to Kate’s side. “What’s going on?”

  Kate shook her head and leaned over the elderly man. “I don’t know. Perhaps a heart attack?” She loosened James’s collar. “Mr. Farrington, are you all right?”

  Clutching his heart, his grandfather managed to sit up. “Whew. I was a little lightheaded for a moment, but I… I’m better now.”

  “Lightheaded?” Trent growled. He turned and strode to the intercom. “Captain,” he barked, “return home—now.” He glanced at his grandfather. “Or should we dock somewhere else and get an ambulance?”

  “Stop. I’m fine, Trent. Don’t worry about your old, decrepit grandfather.” Under his breath, he muttered, “or the future of this family.” In a louder voice, he said, “It’s probably just indigestion.”

  “Indigestion, my ass,” Trent muttered.

  Frowning, Kate gave Mr. Farrington a sideways glance. Moments before, the elderly man had seemed perfectly fine. Only when Trent and Cecilia were heading their way—and James must have seen them—had he had his episode.

  “Trent,” Mr. Farrington said, “just get me home.”

  “If you think you’re all right…” Trent’s brow furrowed as he gave his grandfather a long, hard look. “
But tomorrow you’re seeing your doctor.”

  “I’ll do that.” James nodded. “Just for you, Trent. Now, don’t worry about me.”

  Kate noted that the elderly man’s lips curved slightly. Was he using his illness to manipulate his grandson? Perplexed, she stopped hovering over him and sat down at the table.

  “If everything is fine with James, Trent, why don’t you and Cecilia join us?” Eden asked. She looked radiant, probably because her son had spent time with her chosen daughter-in-law-to-be.

  Jealousy spiraled inside Kate. Would this evening ever end? She wanted to go home. She wanted to forget Trent and how much his pairing with Cecilia tore at her insides.

  “Well, grandson, do you have news to cheer up an old sick man?” James asked.

  “I do,” Trent said, while Cecilia clung to his elbow. He wasn’t slurring his words, but Kate thought he might have had too much to drink tonight. She hoped he wouldn’t make a stupid decision to pacify his grandfather.

  Trent extricated his arm from Cecilia’s tight grip. She obviously didn’t want to let him go. “And it might surprise you all.”

  Flicking a glance toward Kate, Trent strode to stand behind her chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders, sending a wary chill through her. Her eyes widened. What was he up to?

  “We spoke about this before, didn’t we Kate?” he said in a cool voice. “But we wanted to surprise you all. I can tell by all your faces that we have succeeded. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” Trent gave her shoulder a little pinch and smiled at everyone. “Kate and I are planning to be married.”

  Speechless, Kate gaped over her shoulder at him.

  “What are you saying?” Cecilia sputtered. “I thought…you and me.”

  Kate rose from her chair. What was he talking about? He couldn’t stand the sight of her. After having spent a weekend of making love with him, she knew he was not looking at her with tenderness or even kindness. There wasn’t any forgiveness in his face either.

  “Excuse us,” she said through tight lips.