The Rented Bride (Highland Billionaires Book 1)

by KyAnn Waters

  She narrowed her eyes and shot Trent a dagger-filled look. With a huff, she turned as Henry opened the door. Lindsey hesitated, then straightened her back and walked out the door to the car. Sam waited with the back door open.

  “Whose idea was it to have a car ready in case someone needed a ride home?” Trent asked. He needed to thank them personally.

  “Ms. Adams,” Henry replied.

  He had to admit she knew how to throw a party. “Thanks, Henry.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  Trent headed upstairs and reached his grandfather’s room to find Celina standing outside the room. He recognized the worry in her furrowed brow.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded, as he reached for the doorknob.

  Celina grasped his arm. “He’s okay, but he had a little episode.”

  “Episode?”

  “Annie is with him,” Celina said. “She called Dr. Miller.”

  “Rebecca?” he blurted. Fear slammed into him. How bad was it that his private nurse had to call in a specialist?

  “Annie wants us to wait out here,” Celina said.

  Like hell he’d wait in the hallway while his grandfather—Trent shoved the door open, then stopped cold at sight of his grandfather in bed, his tie off, shirt open, and Annie listening to his heart with a stethoscope.

  She looked sharply in his direction. “You never were very good at taking orders, Trent.”

  “You’ve been here long enough to know that. What happened?”

  “What’s happened is that you did no’ keep your promise,” his grandfather cut in. “Was that woman your fiancé? Where is she?”

  Annie removed the stethoscope from her neck, set it on the nightstand and glared at James. “We talked about this,” she scolded.

  “I’m too old for mothering. Ye treat me like a lad in britches. I won’t have it.”

  Annie stood. “Stay calm, or I’ll give you something to calm you.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “You know I don’t bluff,” she replied evenly.

  He narrowed his gaze. “Do not talk to me, Nurse Ratchet. I can fire you.”

  “Just like you do every other day. Your grandson pays my salary and if you won’t behave, I’ll demand a raise. Now, I’m going to give you something to take the edge off.”

  He grumbled. “Forget the sedative.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to be knocked out like some big ape.”

  “You are a big baby is what you are,” Annie said as she located a syringe among her supplies.

  “I am warning ye,” he said.

  Trent stepped closer. “Granddad, I’m asking you to take it.”

  He looked from Trent to Annie. “Half dose.”

  “James—”

  “I am familiar with the drug. I don’t want to sleep. I think you put me out so you can take a break.” He smiled. “I know you are worried about lowering my blood pressure. Half dose will do.” They stared at one another for several seconds and he added. “It’s the best offer you will get all night.”

  “Lucky me,” she said in a dry tone, and nodded toward his sleeve.

  “How about we get you out of the shirt.” Celina brushed past Trent to the bed. She gently lifted his grandfather’s back and slipped the shirt from his shoulders, then his arms. Shirt in hand, she stepped away and Annie administered half the syringe.

  Annie patted his hand. “Now, I want to talk to Trent. Be good and relax.”

  “I want to talk to Trent, as well,” he said. She lifted a brow, and he added, “Aye, I will be a good lad. But don’t think that sedative will stop me from getting out of this bed if he makes me wait too long.”

  “I’ll remember that.” She rose, approached Trent, and placed a hand on his arm. “Will you step outside with me?”

  He hesitated.

  “Celina will watch after him while we talk.”

  Trent nodded and stepped from the room. She pulled the door closed, then faced him.

  “What happened?” he blurted. It was his fault for leaving his grandfather for so long.

  “It’s hard to say without tests. But it’s obvious he got overexcited. And from what Celina tells me, he was drinking.”

  “Damnit. I should have been there.”

  Annie shook her head. “If he wanted a drink, he was going to have one. Though why he would be so stupid is beyond me. Maybe it’s just age. Maybe we’re all like that.”

  Trent released a breath. “What do we do?” he asked.

  “He needs peace and quiet. No stress, no drama. He said you were getting married. Is that true? I know how much he’s wanted to see you married.”

  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” Trent said. “I want to get back to him.”

  “Whatever you’re going to do, keep it simple.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “All things good will do him good. Anything stressful, let’s just say you want life to be as happy and uncomplicated as possible for him right now.”

  Fear tightened his chest. “He’s that bad?”

  Annie smiled. “Stress isn’t good for anyone. It’s worse for some people. Do the best you can and he’ll stay around longer. His condition is serious. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

  He nodded. “I know. I need to be more aware of his needs.”

  She smiled. “We both want to see him enjoy the remainder of his life, however long that might be.”

  ***

  Cassie didn’t consider herself squeamish, but she had to admit the idea of coming face to face with a three-foot iguana had her hoping the search on the third floor turned up the damned thing. She’d searched two bedrooms and a study. As she inched open another door, her phone played a tune. She winced. That particular ring tone belonged to Maryanne.

  Cassie should have known that Maryanne would call now. She had an uncanny knack for knowing when some disaster was happening. Cassie considered ignoring the call. After all, she was on the hunt for Godzilla. Then she realized that if she found the lizard and averted a disaster, Trent Weston might reconsider not holding Daley Enterprises responsible for her mistakes. If she found the iguana she would be the hero. Fear stabbed. What if Maryann was calling because Trent Weston had already called her?

  Cassie stepped inside the room, probably the study Meg had mentioned, as she dug the phone from her back pocket. She clicked the door shut and tapped the screen. “Hey, M,” she said. “How’re the sun and surf? It’s cold and, if you can believe it, snowy here in Colorado.”

  “They can keep the snow. The baby shower was a success.” Cassie landed the Weston event and Maryanne played house to a hundred-thousand-dollar baby shower for twins.

  Cassie scanned the room. Another damned desk. “I heard the humidity this week in Miami was brutal,” she said into the phone.

  Maryanne scoffed. “Brutal doesn’t come close. The pink and blue buttercream melted. How are things there? Did Mr. Weston like the ice sculpture? That was a touch of genius.”

  She didn’t know. Doubtful he’d seen it out in the middle of the yard. Damn. It was a beautiful sculpture. A

  “It came late,” Cassie said as she approached the desk. “I cancelled, but they brought it anyway.”

  “Not good. But if that is our only issue, we’ll be fine.”

  Cassie grimaced. “Well, we’ve had a few problems. But we’re handling them.”

  “What else?” Maryanne’s voice went cold.

  “I’ll share all the details later. The party is in full swing so I really better let you go.”

  “I just wanted to check in, see how it’s going. I wish I was there with you.”

  And looking for an iguana? Cassie would keep this juicy tidbit to herself for now. She reached the desk and began a slow circuit. “But I should to give you a heads up.” She cringed as she said, “You might be getting a call from Mr. Weston.”

  “I assume you don’t mean for the typical accounting and appreciation for our excellent s
ervice.”

  Cassie grimaced. “Right.”

  “So are we talking Trent Weston or the Senior James Weston?”

  “Trent.”

  “Isn’t he a nice guy?”

  Cassie halted. “You know him?”

  “Well, yeah. He’s the one who set up the party.”

  “Him? I thought you said Mr. Weston—James Weston—set up the party.”

  “No, I said the party was for Mr. Weston. But it was his son who followed up with the phone call you got from his personal assistant. What about him?”

  “I didn’t know who he was, Maryanne.”

  “Oh no,” Maryann said before she could go on. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I mistook him for a deliveryman.”

  “Yikes,” Maryanne said, and Cassie could picture her grimace. “Well, it could be worse.”

  “It is.”

  “You’re not getting off the phone now. Spill it.”

  Cassie continued around the desk as she told her soon-to-be-ex-partner everything. Cassie finished her search of the room and ended her story with, “He fired me.”

  A moment of silence passed before Maryanne said, “Well, I haven’t received a call. That could be good.”

  “Or it could mean he just hasn’t had time.”

  “You’re still there. If you really were fired, he would have asked you to leave.”

  “He did.” But that was before the iguana sighting.

  “I’m sure I can explain the misunderstanding,” Maryanne said. “I’ll speak with his father, if I have to.”

  “No, don’t do that. The grandfather is in poor health.”

  “Well,” Maryanne began slowly, “don’t worry about it. We’ll deal with whatever he throws our way.”

  “I’ll try.” Cassie headed for the door. She opened the door, then stepped out into the hallway. “But there’s a tad bit more.”

  “Okay,” Maryanne said slowly.

  Cassie grasped the door to pull it shut, then noticed a strange wrinkle in the curtains on the far side of the room. She stepped back into the room and started toward the window. “And this problem wasn’t my fault.” She reached the window and pulled back the curtain. “Someone brought in an—” Her eyes locked onto the iguana crouched against the wall. “Iguana!”

  The animal shot forward. Cassie leapt back with a scream.

  “Cassie, what’s wrong?” Maryanne’s voice cut off as the phone sailed through the air.

  Cassie’s heart thundered. Behind the curtain. The iguana had been hiding behind the curtain. She hadn’t thought to look there. It could run fast. And it was headed straight for the open door! Cassie broke from her stupor and bolted forward. The animal picked up speed. It shot out the door and, an instant later, Cassie raced into the hallway. She glimpsed its tail as the iguana disappeared into an open door four rooms down.

  She sprinted after it and burst into the room. To her left, the door of a walk-in closet stood ajar. To the right—she froze. Trent Weston stood at the bedside of an elderly man.

  Chapter Six

  Trent told Celina to return to the party and to take Annie with her. They needed to eat, have a drink and enjoy a moment away from this room. Now he waited alone with his grandfather. James lay beneath the covers. Trent’s chest tightened. He looked ten years older than he had an hour ago.

  Trent pulled the chair from the small desk and sat next to the bed.

  “I enjoyed myself,” his grandfather said. “It’s was a fun birthday party…even if I was hoping for something more.”

  Trent wanted to laugh, but the feeling was bittersweet. “You promised me you would be good.”

  “And you promised to introduce me to your future wife.” He spoke in a tired whisper that frightened Trent

  Trent nodded. “I know. I need to talk to you about her. But you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  “It isna’ excitement I want, but to see you settled. I wouldn’t mind the sound of children in this big house again. Can’t blame a man for wanting a great-grandchild.”

  Fear rammed through Trent. How was he going to tell his grandfather the truth? Would it kill him? He had to stall, at least until after they’d seen the doctor. That meant he had to lie. His grandfather hadn’t built an empire without being able to spot a con job.

  “Granddad—”

  The door burst open and Trent twisted in his seat to find Ms. Adams standing just inside the doorway. She stood, back to them, staring into the walk-in closet. She started for the closet.

  “Is that her?” his grandfather said.

  Trent yanked his gaze onto his grandfather. The bare whisper was that of a man with barely the strength to speak.

  His grandfather lifted a hand and motioned her over. “Come here, lass.”

  Trent swung his attention onto her. She stared, eyes wide, but didn’t move.

  His grandfather gave a raspy laugh. “Tell her to come here, Trent. I want to meet her.”

  “I-I’m sorry for intruding,” she said.

  “Family never intrudes,” his grandfather said.

  She pointed a thumb toward the closet behind her. “I’ll just grab what I need from the closet. I’ll be out of here in just a moment.” She started to turn.

  “No need to worry, darling.” Trent pushed to his feet and hurried around the chair. He grasped her arm. “Granddad is anxious to meet you.”

  “I beg your—”

  Trent turned his back to his grandfather. “Play along, Ms. Adams, and I’ll forgive our earlier meeting.” Her brows dove downward, but Trent didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled her toward the bed. “Granddad is a bit tired, but I did promise to introduce you.” They reached the bed. “Granddad, this is Cassandra Adams.”

  His grandfather extended a hand. Ms. Adams glanced toward the door, and Trent thought she might bolt. To his relief, she accepted his grandfather’s hand. He tugged until she sat on the mattress beside him.

  “You are very pretty,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Weston.”

  “Call me Granddad, like Trent.”

  She glanced up at Trent, a question in her eyes.

  “He’s right,” Trent said. “He’ll soon be just as much your grandfather as mine.”

  Shock registered on her face, and he feared she would blow the lie.

  “We talked about this earlier, in the hallway,” he said. “Remember?”

  Confusion played across her face, then understanding melted into a narrow-eyed look. “I sure do remember,” she said. “But let’s not disagree like that again. You won’t win any better now than you did then.”

  His grandfather laughed a rusty laugh. “She beat you at an argument, lad? That’s no easy feat.” He coughed harder.

  “Granddad—” Trent began.

  Ms. Adams leaned forward and picked up the glass of water from the nightstand. “Here.”

  She placed the glass in his hand, but kept her fingers wrapped around his as she helped him lift the glass to his lips. He took a sip, coughed again, then took another sip. He coughed again, but not so violently. He took another sip of water, then nodded he’d finished. She set the glass on the nightstand.

  He relaxed back against the pillow. “Thank you, Cassandra.”

  She grimaced. “The only person who calls me Cassandra is my mother. Call me Cassie.”

  “Thank you, Cassie.”

  “I’d say you need some rest,” she said. “You’re looking tired.”

  He nodded, his eyes beginning to close. “I am very happy to finally meet you.” He looked at Trent. “You enjoy the party, Grandson,” he said, and closed his eyes so suddenly that Trent had to grasp his wrist and check for a pulse. Strong and even.

  Trent pulled back the blanket, gently laid his arm on the mattress, then pulled the covers up over him. “Ms. Adams,” he whispered, and motioned her to leave with him.

  She hurried past him, and Trent cast a final glance at his grandfather before following. They reached t
he door and she stopped.

  “Mr. Weston—”

  “In the hallway,” he said.

  She shook her head, and whispered, “You don’t understand, the closet.”

  “Please, Ms. Adams.”

  “The iguana,” she said. “We have to get it out of the closet.”

  Had he heard right? “Did you say iguana?”

  She nodded.

  “How the hell—” He broke off and cast a glance at his grandfather. He was sound asleep. Trent leaned close and said, “You’re telling me there is an iguana in my closet.”

  “I think so.”

  “What the hell are you doing bringing an iguana in here?”

  Her expression darkened. “Well I didn’t invite him, if that’s what you’re accusing.”

  Trent stared for two heartbeats, at a loss for words then said, “What makes you think it’s in my grandfather’s closet?”

  “I chased it in here.”

  A hundred questions ricocheted around his brain, but he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

  “Wait a minute,” she began.

  “Do you want to catch it?” he demanded.

  Her eyes flashed. “I can catch it.”

  “Stay put.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue, but stepped into the walk-in closet and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Trent flipped on the overhead light. He glimpsed a flash of green in the instant before the lizard disappeared behind the hanging clothes on the left. How the hell was he going to catch it without getting clawed, or worse, bitten? He glanced at the door and considered going for help, but ditched the idea. Ms. Adams wouldn’t let him forget that he didn’t want her help, then wimped out. He needed to keep the upper hand after introducing her as his fiancée.

  He looked around the closet for something to use on the iguana, but didn’t find a thing. Hell, what had he expected? How did a person catch an iguana? An idea struck. Trent pulled his phone from his breast pocket. He tapped the screen for google and typed in how to catch an iguana. Youtube pulled up three videos. He hit the first link and fumbled to turn down the sound as a man’s voice blared.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Weston?” Ms. Adams demanded in a loud whisper.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Just hang tight.”