Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2)

by Madison Michael

  BEHOLDEN

  By

  Madison Michael

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  BEHOLDEN

  Written by Madison Michael

  Kindle 2nd Edition 2017

  Copyright 2016 Madison Michael

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior permission of the author/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to individuals known or unknown to the author is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my unbelievable friends and family who jumped on the Madison Michael bandwagon and gave it life. And to my mom, who taught me to love books.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Books by Madison Michael

  “If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Pride and Prejudice

  by Jane Austen

  PROLOGUE – 18 Months Earlier

  Sloane was floating on air. The evening had been a perfect success. She had been a perfect success.

  Of course.

  Everyone declared she was the most beautiful woman in the room, and even if she was the modest type - which she wasn’t - she knew it was true. Oh, there were some pretty girls at the Howe Museum gala, some beautiful women, but none of them had her striking features – that alabaster skin, those lustrous sapphire eyes, the lush, kissable lips and that thick curtain of dark hair. She was just pulling the pins out of her hair now, shaking the heavy locks from a tight chignon that had been giving her a headache for the last two hours.

  Wyatt Howe IV, her soon-to-be fiancé and chair of the evening’s event, had been devastatingly handsome in his custom tuxedo. They had been a cover-model couple – a power couple – stunning, smart, successful, sought-after. They were leaders in that intimate club of Chicago’s most elite, the movers and shakers who dictated everything that happened in Chicago society. Anyone who was anyone had stopped by to say hello, to be photographed or, at a minimum, to be seen with them.

  Sloane slipped off her Jimmy Choos and reached her elegant arms behind her head to slide down the zipper of her Ellie Saab gown. The pale pink confection would have to go to the cleaners now. She kicked it off with frustration and left it piled on the floor like something she picked up last week at a garage sale, not the $8,000 designer showpiece she had ordered months ago. It would never be the same, she pouted. Not that she was planning to wear it again. Sloane Huyler wouldn’t be caught dead in the same dress twice – it just wasn’t done.

  Still, that stupid waitress had dropped a salad right down the back of her dress. What an incompetent. Sloane had pretended to laugh it off in front of the guests, acted as if it was nothing. She knew better than to embarrass Wyatt by making a scene in public. Her public persona would never draw that kind of negative attention. There was not a chance in hell she had been laughing. Once they were alone, Sloane had shown Wyatt the nasty temper for which she was famous, telling Wyatt to demand the catering company fire the incompetent, redheaded clutz immediately. The stupid cow was probably already looking for another job.

  Boo hoo.

  Now, after a few hours to reconsider, Sloane conceded that the server was probably quite capable. In fact, the service had been excellent before the salad disaster. Sloane suspected that the server wasn’t paying attention. It was likely Wyatt distracted her. He had that effect on women. After all, he was considered Chicago’s most eligible bachelor and he was undeniably scrumptious eye candy. Who was she kidding? The man was a serious hottie.

  Then again, maybe she was staring at me. I looked damn good tonight. Either way, now she was out on her ass where she belonged. Even if it was a singular slipup, getting fired would teach her not to covet that which she could never have.

  Although she demanded that he do it, Sloane was a bit disappointed when Wyatt went to speak to the caterers at the end of the night, abandoning her. She graciously rode home alone in the limousine and let him conclude the evening, but she knew she had just been played. Wyatt was up to something, had his eye on someone. Sloane was sure of it, although she couldn’t put her finger on who the woman might be.

  After years of on again, off again dating, she had learned to agree to Wyatt’s every request. She was there when he wanted her, didn’t whine when he wasn’t available, asked for little, offered much and turned a blind eye when he sowed some wild oats. She made sure she was the perfect girlfriend so he would realize that she would be the perfect wife. After the years she had invested in catching him, Sloane made sure he had nothing to complain about. She wouldn’t give him any excuse to walk away. Ever.

  She had played hostess at his fundraising event perfectly, charming people into opening their wallets wider while helping him promote his real estate business and his philanthropic goals. If things had gone her way, she would have ended the night with him pumping with adrenaline, pumping hard into her to unleash the force of it or proposing marriage. She would have been happy either way.

  Wyatt was a little unpredictable though, no matter how ready and willing she was. So here she was, alone again, when he should have been warming her bed. He did quite a good job of it, she had to admit, and so she was sincerely disappointed not to have him with her. She didn’t actually miss Wyatt, but she did miss the sex. She wanted to seal the deal already and get the big ring.

  Other that that, life was just about perfect.

  Sloane had a job she loved as an executive in her father’s consulting firm. She had parents she sincerely enjoyed spending time with who were still living in the gorgeous lakefront home in which she had grown up. Her weekends were filled with family visits, tennis games, and events at the country club hobnobbing with family friends.

  Sloane had anything and everything that money could buy. In addition, she was well educated, well connected and well heeled. She had the right friends, lived in the right neighborhood, volunteered with the right organizations and committees, dined at the right restaurants, had the best seats at th
e right plays and concerts and any day now, she would be engaged to the right man.

  Wyatt Lyons Howe IV was arguably Chicago’s most sought after bachelor. He was CTO of a huge real estate conglomerate. His father owned it currently, but it would all be his someday soon. He was gorgeous and hunky. She liked him, she liked most of his friends and all of his family. He was brilliant, if a bit geeky, talented with a hockey stick and with his other stick as well. Sloane considered their sex life adequate. Wyatt could be a lot of fun in bed, but the passion just wasn’t there. Both recognized that occasionally they were just going through the motions.

  Still, he was witty and even better connected than she was, so she could overlook anything that wasn’t perfect, including his slightly straying eye and unwillingness to commit – so far. He was old money, with all the cache and manners that construed. Their families were friends and everyone anticipated that soon they would marry. It was expected and although Wyatt had not yet presented her with the nine-carat ring she had been eyeing, he also didn’t refute their future together when anyone alluded to it. She could wait. After all, being his wife would open the few remaining doors where she desired entrée.

  At 29, Sloane knew that she would have to worry about tying him down in the next few years but she was in no hurry. He may be a catch, but he didn’t make her heart race. She could look at him dispassionately and patiently. The prize was worth it. Sloane understood that she would be the envy of everyone once she married him, making her half of the most prominent couple in Chicago.

  Scrubbing off her professionally applied makeup and running a brush through her lush mane of hair, Sloane slid into the short La Perla nightgown she had left out earlier. It was barely there, just a whisper of material, designed to arouse Wyatt. She thought about grabbing a tee shirt instead, but the nightgown felt so decadent against her skin that she wore it just to indulge herself.

  Catching a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror as she moved to slide between the sheets, Sloane knew she looked stunning and seductive enough to bring any man – even Wyatt – to his knees. She liked the image of him there before her, on his knees, making her feel incredible. She would go to bed slightly - not unbearably - dissatisfied. She was too tired to take care of things herself.

  Wyatt should only see what he is missing. I would have him eating out of my hand, or better yet, eating out of my….

  Sloane’s last thoughts as she fell into an undisturbed slumber were how lucky she was. She would marry Wyatt sooner, rather than later, and then she would have attained her every heart’s desire. She would have a handsome, sexy and dutiful husband, a challenging career, perfect children, influence, prestige and tons of money. She would go to the Alps and Aspen for the skiing, Saint Bart’s for warmth in winter, Milan and Paris for the fashion shows.

  Within a year, she prophesied, she would have everything she dreamed of – the perfect life she deserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “For our final piece of business,” the president of the Children’s Hospital board began quietly and seriously, “the board has determined that having Sloane Huyler head the benefit committee is no longer in the best interest of the hospital or the event. I am sorry, Sloane, but we are requesting that you step down and let Allyson chair the event going forward.”

  Her face burning with shame, Sloane made eye contact briefly with each board member present, some of whom returned the look, many of whom refused to meet her steely blue gaze. It didn’t matter. She knew she was defeated. In fact, she had actually expected this humiliation to come at last month’s meeting, or any of the prior meetings since August. She was surprised it hadn’t happened months ago. She supposed, she had run out of any remaining goodwill with the headlines earlier this month.

  “Of course, I want to do whatever is best for the hospital and the benefit,” Sloane choked out reluctantly.

  Sloane wondered if they were ousting her from the entire benefit committee or just the chair position, but she refused to give these blueblood wannabes the satisfaction of asking. She had busted her butt for this benefit already, so screw them if they didn’t want anymore of her hard work.

  “Sloane, of course we value your expertise and dedication, and appreciate the work you have already completed.”

  What? Did he read my mind?

  “You are very welcome on the committee,” the board president was quick to offer, “We welcome your continued help and input - just not as the gala chair.”

  “Please accept my resignation as chair of this year’s benefit, effective immediately.” Sloane spoke in a strong, sure voice, holding her back straight despite the proverbial knife they had just thrust in it. “While I am, of course, willing to help in any way I can, I find that I am no longer able to fulfill the responsibilities of chair. I will follow up with an email confirming this as well.”

  These people are not going to break me, damn it. I am Sloane Huyler. I used to eat people just like these for breakfast. How dare they turn their backs on me now? They are all just nasty hypocrites.

  The motion to replace her was made, seconded and voted upon quickly. That last, unsavory piece of business completed, the meeting adjourned. The board members who would normally have stayed around chatting with Sloane, suggesting they go grab a drink or dinner, instead were slinking from the room avoiding contact with her at all costs.

  Grabbing her Celine bag from the back of the chair, preparing to leave the room, Sloane was stopped by Allyson Riley, the new chair of “her” benefit.

  “I expect you to send me all your notes, Sloane,” she stated without emotion. “Also, I have already assigned you to work with the hotel on setup, catering and flowers. I will provide oversight and handle fundraising from now on.”

  “Sure, Al, I understand. Just send me your notes and we can swap roles. You will do well as Chair, I am sure.”

  As if that few sentences had not cost her dearly, Sloane offered a crisp nod to her replacement and exited the room. None of the anger and resentment simmering just below the surface showed on her flawless face.

  One more minute with her and I might have put a fist through her perfect little nose job. What a toad!

  Sloane had seen this coming but that didn’t soften the blow. It was just the next disaster in the nightmare that her life had become. For six months now, she could not step out her door without another shoe dropping.

  Really, is there anything left to go wrong? How on earth can it get any worse?

  Sloane was tough. She always had been. For 30 years, she had lived a privileged life, assured that she deserved every minute of it. She was whiplash smart, cover-model beautiful, came from a wealthy family and she was about to marry into an even wealthier one. Her future was bright. Nothing could stop her from attaining her hearts desire. Then, suddenly, all that had changed and for the last six months, nothing had gone right.

  And isn’t that the understatement of the century?

  First, her father was accused of doing a shady business transaction, stealing secrets from a client and selling them to the Chinese government. He needed to launder the payments so he tried to do it through the company of her soon-to-be-fiancé. When Wyatt discovered the scheme, Sloane’s father planned to keep it hush-hush by blackmailing Wyatt’s father, then sealing the deal by forcing the long overdue marriage of their children.

  How did that all turn out? First, Wyatt called off the engagement but she was tough. Sloane survived that indignity by telling people that she did the jilting. Everyone knew she never loved him, so she pulled that one off pretty well.

  The other problems were not so easily resolved. When the Feds arrested her father, Sloane thought he would be back home quickly, completely absolved of all wrongdoing. Instead, he was indicted, rapidly tried and just this month he pleaded guilty to theft, illegal transactions with a foreign government and money laundering. He was sentenced to eighteen years in federal prison.

  Sloane was sure he would appeal but instead he cut a deal for a sho
rter sentence. Since then, like the fall of dominoes, Sloane had suffered a barrage of events from which she was unable to recover. Huyler Industries was bleeding clients and money. The business was failing and she was wracking her brains for a way to keep it afloat. The family fortune, such as it had been, was gone, used to pay taxes and penalties and the exorbitant fees of fancy lawyers. Now her parents’ beautiful lakeside home would be sacrificed too.

  She couldn’t look for assistance from any of her influential and privileged friends and colleagues because they had all deserted her. She had lost her money, her reputation and her influence. With nothing to offer, she was a pariah. The city officials, the movers-and-shakers with whom she’d had great working and personal relationships were the first to desert her. Soon after, all her contacts at banks and investment firms wouldn’t return her calls. Other business people, her fellow Northwestern graduates, the group that helped each other out, stopped helping. Finally, she lost her friends. That was the bitterest pill to swallow.

  Until now.

  She had just very publicly lost the chair of the benefit committee. She had been chairing the benefit for the last four years. With her name and connections, badly needed donations flooded into the Children’s Hospital. She was able to charm everyone she knew into putting up items for the silent auction in addition to her accomplishments in gaining large, corporate sponsorship. She had a reputation for an enormous turnout, exciting and entertaining events and the ability to raise close to one million dollars year after year.

  Even Sloane recognized that a pariah could not get the business leaders of Chicago to open their deep pockets. A pariah could not even get them to take her calls. The board was correct in assuming that her name on the top of the committee list was more problematic than useful. For Sloane, the benefit was the last star to which she hitched her wagon. Losing it was particularly painful.