by Maisey Yates
Well, no wonder Wren could barely even speak of it. She hated Creed Cooper more than anything else on earth. If the two of them ever touched...well, they would create an explosion of one kind or another, and Emerson didn’t know how she hadn’t realized that before.
Possibly because she had never before experienced the kind of intense clash she had experienced just a few nights ago with Holden.
“You do understand, then,” Emerson said. “That there is a difference between wanting and having. And having for a limited time.” She looked down. “Yes, I’m wildly attracted to this guy, and our chemistry is amazing. But it could never be more than that. Though, as someone who has experienced the temporary fun... You know you could.”
Wren affected a full-body shudder.
“I really couldn’t. I really, really couldn’t.”
“Suit yourself. But I’m going to go ahead and say that you’re not allowed to give me advice anymore, because you live in a big glass house.”
“I do not. It’s totally different. I’m not marrying someone I shouldn’t.”
“Well, I’m marrying someone Dad wants me to. I trust Dad. And at the end of the day, I guess that’s it. I’m trusting that it’s going to be okay because it’s what Dad wants me to do, and he’s never... He’s never steered me wrong. He’s never hurt me. All he’s ever done is support me.”
Her father wanted the best for her. And she knew it. She was just going to have to trust that in the end, like she trusted him.
“I know,” Wren said, putting her arm around Emerson. “At least you have some good memories now.”
Emerson smiled. “Really good.”
“I don’t want details,” Wren said, patting Emerson’s shoulder.
She flashed back to being tied up in bed with Holden. “I am not giving you details. Those are sacred.”
“As long as we’re on the same page.”
Emerson smiled and went back to the checklist she was supposed to be dealing with. “We are on the same page. Which is currently a checklist. Tonight’s party will go off without a hitch.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Wren said, knocking resolutely on one of the wooden tables.
“I’m not going to jinx it. It’s one of your parties. So you know it’s going to be absolutely perfect.”
Eight
The party was going off without a hitch.
Everyone was enjoying themselves, and Emerson was in visual heaven, finding any number of photo opportunities buried in the meticulous decorations that Wren had arranged. With the permission of the couple, she would even share photographs of them, and of the guests. This, at least, served to distract her mildly from the situation with Holden.
Except, there was no situation, that was the thing. But it was very difficult for her brain to let go of that truth.
She wanted there to be a situation. But like she had said to Wren earlier, there was really no point in entertaining that idea at all. Marriage was more than just the marriage bed.
And she and Holden might be compatible between the sheets—they were so compatible it made her pulse with desire even thinking about it—but that didn’t mean they would be able to make a relationship, much less a marriage.
They had nothing in common.
You’re assuming. You don’t actually know that.
Well, it was true. She didn’t know, but she could certainly look at the circumstances of his life and make some assumptions.
A passing waiter caught her eye, and she reached out to take hold of a glass of champagne. That was when a couple of things happened all at once. And because they happened so quickly, the reality took her longer to untangle than it might have otherwise.
The first thing she noticed was a man so stunning he took her breath away as he walked into the room.
The second realization was that she knew that man. Even though he looked so different in the sleekly cut black tux he had on his fit body that the name her brain wanted to apply to him couldn’t seem to stick.
The third thing that happened was her heart dropping into her feet.
And she didn’t even know why.
Because Holden had just walked in wearing a tux.
It might have taken a moment for her brain to link all those details up, but it had now.
She just couldn’t figure out what it meant.
That he looked like this. That he was here.
He took a glass of champagne from a tray, and scanned the room. He looked different. But also the same.
Because while he might be clothed in an extremely refined fashion, there was still a ruggedness about him.
Something wild and untamed, even though, on a surface level, he blended in with the people around them.
No, not blended in.
He could never blend in.
He was actually dressed much nicer than anyone else here.
That suit was clearly custom, and it looked horrendously expensive. As did his shoes. As did...everything about him. And could he really be the same man she had happened upon shirtless cutting wood the other day? The same man who had tied her up in his run-down little cabin? The same man who had done desperate, dirty things to her?
And then his eyes collided with hers.
And he smiled.
It made her shiver. It made her ache.
But even so, it was a stranger’s smile. It was not the man she knew, and she couldn’t make sense of that certainty, even to herself. He walked across the room, acknowledging no one except for her.
And she froze. Like a deer being stalked by a mountain lion. Her heart was pounding in her ears, the sound louder now than the din of chatter going on around her.
“Just the woman I was looking for,” he said.
Why did he sound different? He’d been confident in their every interaction. Had never seemed remotely cowed by her position or her money. And maybe that was the real thing she was seeing now.
Not a different man, but one who looked in his element rather than out of it.
“What are you doing here? And where did you get that suit?”
“Would you believe my fairy godmother visited?” The dark humor twisted his lips into a wry smile.
“No,” she said, her heart pounding more viciously in her temple.
“Then would you believe that a few of the mice that live in the cabin made the suit for me?”
“Even less likely to believe that. You don’t seem like a friend of mice.”
“Honey, I’m not really a friend of anyone. And I’m real sorry for what I’m about to do. But if you cooperate with me, things are going to go a whole lot better.”
She looked around. As if someone other than him might have answers. Of course, no one offered any if they did. “What do you mean?”
“You see, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“What?”
She couldn’t make any sense of this. She looked around the room to see if they were attracting attention, because surely they must be. Because she felt like what was happening between them was shining bright like a beacon on the hill. But somehow they weren’t attracting any attention at all.
“Why don’t we go outside. I have a meeting with your father in just a few minutes. Unless...unless you are willing to negotiate with me.”
“You have a meeting with my father? Negotiate what?”
The thoughts that rolled through her mind sent her into a panic.
He had obviously filmed what had happened between them. He was going to extort money from her family. He was a con man. No wonder he didn’t want his picture taken.
All those accusations hovered on the edge of her lips, but she couldn’t make them. Not here.
“What do you want?” she asked.
He said nothing. The man was a rock in a suit. No more sophisticated than h
e’d been in jeans. She’d thought he was different, but he wasn’t. This was the real man.
And he was harder, darker than the man she’d imagined he’d been.
Funny how dressing up made that clear.
“What do you want?” she asked again.
She refused to move. She felt like the biggest fool on the planet. How had she trusted this man with her body? He was so clearly not who he said, so clearly...
Of course he hadn’t actually wanted her. Of course the only man she wanted was actually just playing a game.
“Revenge,” he said. “Nothing more. I’m sorry that you’re caught in the middle of it.”
“Did you film us?” She looked around, trying to see if people had noticed him yet. They still hadn’t. “Did you film us together?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not posting anything up on the internet, least of all that.”
“Are you going to show my father?”
“No,” he said, his lip curling. “This isn’t about you, Emerson, whether you believe me or not. It isn’t. But what I do next is about you. So I need you to come outside with me.”
He turned, without waiting to see if she was with him, and walked back out of the barn. Emerson looked around and then darted after his retreating figure.
When they reached the outdoors, it was dim out, just like the first night they had met. And when he turned to face her, she had the most ridiculous flashback.
He had been in jeans then. With that cowboy hat. And here he was now in a tux. But it was that moment that brought the reality of the situation into focus.
This man was the same man she had been seduced by. Or had she seduced him? It didn’t even make sense anymore.
“Tell me what’s going on.” She looked him up and down. “You clearly aren’t actually a ranch hand.”
“Your father did hire me. Legitimately. So, I guess in total honesty, I do work for your father, and I am a ranch hand.”
“What else are you? Are you paparazzi?”
He looked appalled by that. “I’m not a bottom-feeder that makes his living on the misfortunes of others.”
“Then what are you? Why are you here?”
“I came here to destroy the winery.”
She drew back. The venom in his voice was so intense she could feel the poison sinking down beneath her skin.
He looked her up and down. “But whether or not I do that is up to you now.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your father. Your father had an affair with my sister.”
“Your sister? I don’t... My father did not have an affair. My father and mother have been married for...more than thirty years. And your sister would have to be...”
“She’s younger than you,” Holden said. “Younger than you, and incredibly naive about the ways of the world. And your father took advantage of her. When she got pregnant, he tried to pay her to get an abortion, and when she wouldn’t, he left. She miscarried, and she’s had nothing but health problems since. She’s attempted suicide twice and had to be hospitalized. Your father ruined her. Absolutely ruined her.”
“No,” Emerson said. “It’s a mistake. My father would never do that. He would never hurt...”
“I’m not here to argue semantics with you. You can come with me. I’m about to have a meeting with your father, though he doesn’t know why. He’ll tell you the whole story.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“It didn’t have anything to do with you. Until you came to the cabin the other day. I was happy to leave you alone, but you pursued it, and then... And then you told me something very interesting. About the winery. And who’d own it.”
Emerson felt like she might pass out. “The man I marry.”
“Exactly.” He looked at her, those dark eyes blazing. “So you have two choices, really. Let me have that meeting with your father, and you’re welcome to attend, where I’ll be explaining to him how I’ve found stacks of NDAs in his employee files. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”
“What?”
“Your father has engaged in many, many affairs with workers here on the property. Once I got ahold of the paperwork in his office, I got in touch with some of the women. Most of them wouldn’t talk, but enough did. Coercion. And so much of the money for your vineyard comes through all of your celebrity endorsements. Can you imagine the commercial fallout if your father is found to be yet another man who abuses his power? Manipulates women into bed?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not, Emerson. What matters is that I know I can make other people believe me. And when this is over, you won’t be able to give Maxfield wines away with a car wash.”
“I don’t understand what that gives you,” she said, horror coursing through her veins. She couldn’t even entertain the idea of this being true. But the truth of it wasn’t the thing, not now. The issue was what he could do.
“Revenge,” he said, his voice low and hard.
“Revenge isn’t a very lucrative business.”
“I don’t need the revenge to pay. But... I won’t lie to you, I find the idea of revenge and a payout very compelling. The idea of owning a piece of this place instead of simply destroying it. So tell me, how does it work? Your husband getting a stake in the business.”
“I get married, and then I just call the lawyers, and they’ll do the legal paperwork.”
His expression became decisive. “Then you and I are getting married.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll publicize the story. I will make sure to ruin the brand. However, if I marry you, what I’ll have is ownership of the brand. And you and I, with our united stakes, will have a hell of a lot of decision-making power.”
“But to what end?”
“I want your father to know that I ended up owning part of this. And what I do after that...that will depend on what he’s willing to do. But I want to make sure he has to contend with me for as long as I want. Yes, I could ruin the label. But that would destroy everything that you and your sister have worked so hard for, and I’m not necessarily here to hurt you. But gaining a piece of this... Making sure my sister gets something, making sure your father knows that I’m right there... That has value to me.”
“What about Donovan?”
“He’s not my problem. But it’s your call, Emerson. You can marry Donovan. And inherit the smoldering wreckage that I’ll leave behind. Or, you marry me.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Look up Soraya Jane on your favorite social media site.”
“I... Wait. I know who she is. She’s... She has millions of followers.”
“I know,” he said.
“She’s your sister.”
“Yes.”
“And...”
“My name is Holden. Holden McCall. I am not famous on the internet, or really anywhere. But I’m one of the wealthiest developers in the state. With my money, my sister gained some connections, got into modeling. Started traveling.”
“She’s built an empire online,” Emerson said.
“I know,” he said. “What she’s done is nothing short of incredible. But she’s lost herself. Your father devastated her. Destroyed her. And I can’t let that stand.”
“So I... If I don’t marry you...you destroy everything. And the reason for me marrying Donovan doesn’t even exist anymore.”
“That’s the size of it.”
“And we have to transfer everything before my father realizes what you’re doing.”
Emerson had no idea what to do. No idea what to think. Holden could be lying to her about all of this, but if he wasn’t, then he was going to destroy the winery, and there was really no way for her to be sure
about which one was true until it was too late.
“Well, what do we do, then?”
“I told you, that is up to you.”
“Okay. So say we get married. Then what?”
“You were already prepared to marry a man you didn’t love, might as well be me.”
Except... This was worse than marrying a man she didn’t love.
She had trusted Holden with something deep and real. Some part of her that she had never shown to anyone else. She had trusted him enough to let him tie her hands.
To let him inside her body.
And now she had to make a decision about marrying him. On the heels of discovering that she didn’t know him at all.
“I’ll marry you,” she said. “I’ll marry you.”
Nine
The roar of victory in Holden’s blood hadn’t quieted, not even by the time they boarded his private plane. They’d left the party and were now taking off from the regional airport, bound for Las Vegas, and he was amused by the fact that they both just so happened to be dressed for a wedding, though they hadn’t planned it.
“Twenty-four-hour wedding chapels and no waiting period,” he said, lifting a glass of champagne, and then extending his hand and offering it to her.
The plane was small, but nicely appointed, and fairly quiet.
He wasn’t extraordinarily attached to a great many of the creature comforts that had come with his wealth. But being able to go where he wanted, when he wanted, and without a plane full of people was certainly his favorite.
“You have your own plane,” she said, taking the glass of champagne and downing it quickly. “You are private-plane rich.”
She didn’t look impressed so much as pissed.
“Yep,” he said.
She shook her head, incredulous. “I... I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“I didn’t ask you to say anything.”
“No. You asked me to marry you.”
“I believe I demanded that you marry me or I’d ruin your family.”
“My mistake,” she said, her tone acerbic. “How could I be so silly?”