by Dani Collins
Derek and Angelina were long gone. Diya and Richard had left for their honeymoon a couple of hours after Clare had left him. His older brother and sister and their boisterous families had left too. His family had all bid him goodbye with a wariness that he knew he was the cause of. Both his sisters had asked why Clare had left so abruptly.
When would he bring her back for a visit?
When was he going to let them throw a party for him and Clare to celebrate their marriage? Had he convinced Clare yet to move to California with him so that they would all be closer together?
As if he were a stranger they couldn’t communicate with without the bridge Clare had provided. As if she had...opened up something between him and them again.
As if she’d rekindled a spark in his cold heart.
There were a hundred things requiring his attention, tens of meetings he was missing with each day he didn’t leave. And yet he had stayed, a strange lethargy weighing him down.
Instead of that agitated energy he’d felt during the first few days after his return, Dev sensed something different within the house this time. The walls looked brighter. The sight of him in the family portrait above the giant fireplace—the one he’d tried to get out of being included in—suddenly didn’t feel like a joke of the worst kind.
As the hours and days passed, he felt as if the house gradually changed around him. As if for the first time in years, he could breathe here. Or was it him who had changed?
Or was it Clare who had made life so much better for him that the past no longer held such significance anymore?
As he sat down in the huge library with the vaulted ceilings and rows and rows of books that had always seemed like alien things forever out of his reach, Dev realized he didn’t feel the resentment that had been his childhood companion for so long. He didn’t feel caged anymore.
Because now, whichever wing he walked into, whatever nook or corner he looked into, he saw Clare.
He saw her laughing with Diya and Deedi.
He saw her turning bright pink as she tasted the spicy pakoda his nephew had popped into her mouth when she’d been laughing.
He saw her looking up from where she’d been sitting amid all his cousins and relatives on her knees, her lovely, warm gaze finding him wherever he was and smiling at him.
He saw her dragging him through room after room, laughing, asking questions, determined to know all the hijinks he’d gotten into as a mischievous boy. He saw her kissing him, needing him, telling him he was loved with her eyes, her kisses and her generous heart.
But her words...the very words he didn’t even know he’d needed to hear so desperately, the very words that were in his own heart...when she’d finally said those words to him out loud, he hadn’t been able to hear them.
He hadn’t been able to see what it had cost her to say them to him. How far she’d come to be able to trust him, and want him, and...love him.
His father was still there, Dev knew. The palatial mansion meant he and the old man didn’t have to cross paths even once during the day if they so pleased. While Papa had rarely approached Dev, he constantly sensed his father’s presence, in the weighty silence that seemed to follow him wherever he walked.
In the pregnant hope that filled the very air.
“The house is yours,” his father had declared, the one time Dev had come close enough to him for a conversation.
“I don’t want it.” The words had risen to Dev’s mouth and yet...something had arrested them. No, not something. Someone.
Clare.
“That wife of yours,” Papa had continued in his booming voice, “she will like the house, I think. She will want to raise a family here with you.”
Dev had looked up, stunned. For the first time in his life, it seemed his father and he had been thinking along the same lines. The picture of her, in this house, with him, was such a clear image that Dev hadn’t been capable of responding.
The two of them together in this house, building a family together...
And for the first time in years, Dev saw himself fitting into this house again. Fitting in with his family. Fitting in with who he’d wanted to be all his life—a man worthy of love.
And Clare had made it all possible by simply loving him.
By giving him what he wasn’t even sure he’d earned.
* * *
“Who the hell are you?”
If Dev didn’t feel as if his heart was lodged in his throat, if he hadn’t felt like a total idiot, he’d have laughed at the two women who blocked his way as he walked into the offices of The London Connection.
One tall and elegant, the other a little shorter, with strawberry blond hair—they looked like sentinels guarding the gate against him. Guarding their best friend.
A part of him found relief in the fact that Clare had these women to support her. That she wasn’t alone. That she...
“I’m here to see Clare,” he said, trying to hide the impatience he felt.
“We heard you the first time. Our question was who are you?” asked the blonde.
Dev pushed his hand through his hair. “You damn well know who I am. I’m your best friend’s husband.”
Shock seemed to quiet them for once. Until he heard one muttering away and the other one squealing. Something like, “Oh, my God, he’s here!”
“I don’t think you should be here,” the taller one said.
“Wait, Bea, we don’t know that. She might want to see him. You know what shape she’s been in since she returned. Also, he’s our biggest client right now.”
Before they drove Dev completely crazy, Clare appeared behind them. Peeking out of the back door, leading to a separate office.
“What’s going on...?”
Her words fell away as she straightened. Wariness shone in her eyes as she tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Hey, Dev.”
Dev swallowed, trying to dislodge the torrent of emotion that seemed to crawl upward from his chest into his throat. He didn’t say anything in the end. Just nodded at her. Stared at her hungrily.
She looked a little gaunt but elegant in a white blouse and black skirt. She looked lovely and fierce and his breath came back in a rush, as if he’d been merely functioning until now, instead of living.
“I didn’t know you were coming to London.” Her tone made it clear she’d have been three continents away if she had. “Did I miss something on the calendar? I thought we’d finished all the PR for Athleta.”
“No. That’s all wrapped up,” he finally said. “I’m sure you’ve seen the articles. I’m now being praised as a twenty-first-century model CEO.”
“With most of his female fans crying over the fact that he secretly married his English wife,” added the one called Bea.
Clare flushed. Her arms wound around herself in a gesture of defensiveness that tugged at Dev’s heart. “It’s okay, Bea. He’ll be back on the market soon enough.” Her blue gaze pinned him. “In fact, now that you’re here, maybe we can finalize—”
“No, I won’t,” Dev said loudly. Enough was enough!
“You won’t what, Mr. Kohli?” asked the blonde who must be Amy.
“I’m not going back on the market,” he snapped. “For anything.” And before she could shoot him down with another question, he caught up to her. “I want to talk to you in private.”
Her breath quickened as he neared her. “I don’t see what we have to say to each other. I’m not interested in playing Mr. Kohli’s adoring wife anymore.”
“No? I thought you were pretty damn good at it,” he said, grinning. Gaining a little of his confidence back. He’d have to beg, yes, but she’d forgive him. She loved him. And the one thing he knew about Clare was that she didn’t give her heart away easily.
And once she did, she was never going to take it back again. God, he’d been so fo
olish.
The woman he’d married was not the flaky type. She wasn’t going to kick him out of her life just because he’d been slow to see what was right in front of his eyes.
“Did you get the profile of that last magazine interview I sent you?”
Her blue eyes grew huge in her face. “I opened it just now... I...it’s a brave, big move publicizing your dyslexia like that.”
Dev smiled. “I didn’t do it to be brave or big. I did it because I realized you were right. I was still measuring myself by someone else’s standards. And failing. In truth, telling the world I’m dyslexic is a selfish act, Clare. Really, I’m doing it to prove to myself and to you that... I choose happiness. That I choose love. That I choose...you. I love you, sweetheart. I want a future with you, if you’ll still have me. I’ll even give up the monstrous, gigantic, oversized yacht if it means my tomorrows are filled with you...”
Tears filled her eyes and fell across her cheeks. She looked so stricken that Dev felt a flicker of fear.
“Do you still not trust me?” he muttered hoarsely.
She shook her head, and then she was throwing herself into his arms. “I trusted you from that first night. You gave me my heart back, Dev.” A world of joy filled her eyes. “You were just so determined to stay a bachelor.”
“But that was before you stormed into my life, Clare.” He kissed her temple and held her as she trembled in his arms.
Dev heard a couple of masculine voices behind him but ignored them. The only one who mattered to him, the only person he ever wanted to see was here in front of him.
“I love you. I think I fell in love with you when I found you sleeping in my closet. You’re so brave and sweet and I can’t imagine what my life would be like if you hadn’t come storming into it, Clare. Forgive me for being a foolish man. For not seeing what you were giving me, sweetheart.” He opened the top couple of buttons on his shirt and there lay the necklace she’d left behind on his nightstand.
“I want you to be my wife, Clare. Forever and ever. My father has been trying to give me the family home, but if you don’t like the idea, I want you to help me pick a house for us wherever you want to live. I want you to have a big family with me. Because I know that’s what you’ve always wanted. I want you to teach our children how to be strong and brave like you. I want you to give me a chance to love you like you’ve always deserved to be loved, darling. And I promise I’ll never again keep you waiting. Not another minute, not another second.”
And then she was burying her face in his neck and murmuring through her tears.
“I do love you, Dev. With all my heart. I...”
Dev kissed her quiet. “Shh...sweetheart, no more tears. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”
EPILOGUE
“DO WE HAVE to change the name of our company now that we have offices on two continents?”
Clare looked up to find her friend Bea considering the question thoughtfully, the way she did everything else. Her husband Ares was sitting by her, his arm around her on the couch. Amy and Luca, on the other hand, sat squashed up on the opposite recliner together, still arguing over where they were going to spend Christmas.
She smiled as strong arms came around her waist and she was pulled against a hard body. Warmth exploded in her blood as the familiar scent of her husband enveloped her.
“Are you going to answer Bea’s question or are you just going to grin like a fool?” Amy demanded, laughing at what Clare was sure was a blissful look on her face.
“Luca, please advise your wife not to call mine a fool.”
Luca grinned while Amy continued. “Well, your wife is the CEO of our company and since she’s made the executive decision of ditching us and moving to California to open the US branch of our business, Bea and I have been wondering.”
Clare straightened, hearing the hint of uncertainty in Amy’s voice. When she looked at Bea, she found the same.
Her friends weren’t worried about the business or their share of it. But The London Connection had brought them together when they had nothing else in the world. Nothing but each other.
“Of course, we’re not going to change the name,” Clare said, clearing her throat. “I’m just one flight away from you. And remember, ladies, we’re all about the modern woman.”
“What Clare means, Amy,” Bea chipped in, while smiling at Ares, “is that Ares and Luca and Dev know better than to expect that we’ll put them before the business.”
Amy laughed and Clare joined in. She couldn’t believe all three of them had met and fallen in love with such wonderful men.
With Dev by her side and her friends near enough to see regularly, she finally had everything she had ever wanted—love and a big family and a place to belong.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781488073540
The Playboy’s “I Do’’ Deal
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“A vicious concoction of half-truths and fictitious garbage was written by you and printed in a national newspaper for the world to see.”
Emma winced. It was true. She couldn’t deny it.
“You are lucky I didn’t personally sue you for slander.”
But she didn’t feel lucky. Not at all. At the time, losing her job had felt like the biggest calamity that could ever befall her. Now she knew it was just the start of her troubles.
A couple of seconds passed. Leo picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk.
“If that is all you came to say, I believe our business is concluded.”
“No.” Emma’s stomach tightened. If only it were that straightforward. “That is not all I came to say. There is another matter we need to discuss.”
“Go on.”
The weight of his gaze felt heavy enough to flatten her, every nerve-filled second dragging longer than the last. She took a brave breath.
“I am pregnant.�
�� The words felt like boulders in her mouth, too big, too unruly. “I am going to have a baby.”
Andie Brock started inventing imaginary friends around the age of four and is still doing that today—only now the sparkly fairies have made way for spirited heroines and sexy heroes. Thankfully, she now has some real friends, as well as a husband and three children, plus a grumpy but lovable cat. Andie lives in Bristol and when not actually writing might well be plotting her next passionate romance story.
Books by Andie Brock
Harlequin Presents
The Greek’s Pleasurable Revenge
Vieri’s Convenient Vows
Kidnapped for Her Secret Son
Reunited by the Greek’s Vows
One Night With Consequences
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Wedlocked!
Bound by His Desert Diamond
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Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
From Exposé to Expecting
Andie Brock
For anyone who has bought my books, read my books or supported my writing career in any way. It is much appreciated.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
THE ENORMOUS BUNCH of flowers wobbled through the air. Without thinking, Emma stepped forward, her arms outstretched, ready to catch it. Her fingers managed to grab hold of the twisted stems, but the weight took her by surprise and she had to clasp the bouquet to her chest to stop it from toppling forward. Only then did she wonder what on earth she thought she was doing.