For the Sake of His Heir

by Joanne Rock

  “She sure did,” her grandmother replied. “And I made her return her keys, too.”

  “Would you like me to call the police?” Gabe seemed undisturbed by the racket, his attention fully focused on Brianne. “She’s causing a disturbance.”

  Unwilling to appear weak in front of a man who knew a completely different person from the scared kid she used to be, Brianne shook her head.

  “I’ll have to speak to my stepmother sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now.”

  Five

  Gabe pulled open the door during the next round of pounding. He couldn’t help but feel a bit gratified when the obnoxious guest stumbled forward a step at the sudden admittance and tripped on the thin braid rug. He steadied the woman enough to keep her upright, like a gentleman should. And that was going to be the extent of the chivalry he extended to the stepmother responsible for making Brianne’s early adolescence a traumatic time.

  The wiry woman with hair dyed bright crimson glared up at him as she shook off his hand. She wore a loose men’s T-shirt and a shrink-wrapped miniskirt, her hair sticking out at odd angles like she’d just woken up despite the massive amount of eye makeup. Her narrowed gaze swept the scene, dismissing him and skipping over Rose until she spotted Brianne.

  “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.” The woman straightened to her full height—which wasn’t saying much—and curled her lower lip in a sneer. “Should I be impressed you finally decided to show some loyalty to the family?” Brianne’s stepmother marched toward the medics still working on Brianne’s grandmother. “Just what the hell is going on here?”

  Brianne tracked her progress, but didn’t move to intervene. Gabe half expected her to collar the intruder and relocate her out the door the same way she would have done with a reptilian visitor to her garden. But she looked rattled. Gabe made a half step toward her grandmother before Rose spoke up.

  “Pipe down, Wendy,” Rose told her easily, swatting in her direction like the woman was little more than a pesky fly. “If you cared what was going on in here, you could have shown up last week when I could barely move,” Rose chided her. “Heaven forbid that spoiled brat of yours who lives next door come over here personally to check on me. Does she have a deal with you where she only calls when there might be some drama?”

  Brianne seemed to find her voice, stepping forward. “Who lives next door, Nana?”

  “None of your business,” her stepmother retorted, glaring at her as she wavered precariously on her spiky heels. Had she been drinking?

  Gabe wanted to get Brianne away from her ASAP. The woman certainly made no secret of her dislike.

  “Vanessa lives over there now,” Rose answered while the health-care workers wrapped her right arm in a splint. “Wendy’s oldest girl. I’ll bet she was outside on the stoop canoodling with that big lug she calls her boyfriend when you arrived, Brianne. Scrawny baggage couldn’t run to the phone fast enough is my guess.”

  Gabe liked Nana. He’d been prepared to respect and admire her even before they met, just knowing that she was responsible for sending Brianne to Martinique, for giving her a better life than she’d had in New York. But now, meeting her in person, he couldn’t help but smile. He heard some of Brianne’s toughness in this woman’s voice. Understood now where that came from.

  Wendy put her hands on her hips, angling between the health-care aides to fume at Rose. “You should be happy she’s keeping an eye on your apartment. She called me because she thought a gangster was after you when she saw a limo pull up.” She eased back a step when one of the medics put out a hand to keep her at bay. Wendy looked at Brianne again. “I never guessed Ms. Big Time would pay us a visit, and in a limousine, no less.”

  “I’m not here to see you,” Brianne retorted, arms folded. “I’m taking Nana home with me.”

  “You’re doing what now?” Rose asked, leaning forward to let one of the health-care workers put a coat around her thin shoulders.

  It was freezing in the apartment, making Gabe wonder if the lower temperature was for cost savings or if there was a problem with the heater. Either way, it was obvious that an injured elderly woman shouldn’t be staying here alone. Brianne had been wise to fly to New York as fast as possible.

  “Rose isn’t going anywhere,” Wendy informed her, chest thrust out like she was about to start a fistfight. “You can’t just waltz in here after all this and start making decisions that don’t concern you.”

  Gabe wondered why the woman cared one way or another if she wasn’t involved with her mother-in-law’s life. Or was it her former mother-in-law? He wasn’t even sure Wendy was still married to Brianne’s father. It brought Gabe no joy to learn that Brianne’s family life had been even more convoluted than his own. At least he’d had the stability of one parent, who’d tried her best to raise him, Jager and Damon the best she could.

  One of the health-care workers stood from where he’d been wrapping bandages around Rose’s arm. “It appears Miss Rose has a broken ulna bone, and possibly a couple of broken ribs. I’d like to get some X-rays as soon as possible.”

  Wendy sucked her teeth and made a skeptical sound but the announcement seemed to give Brianne new resolve. She darted past her stepmother to kneel beside Rose’s chair.

  “Nana, there is a medical van outside,” she explained softly. “We can go to the hospital tonight.”

  Gabe watched them, hoping Brianne would convince her. He knew his future bride wouldn’t rest until she’d made sure her grandmother was properly cared for. And because that meant everything to her, it meant a whole lot to him, too. Before he could hear Rose’s response, however, Brianne’s stepmother sidled in front of him.

  “So who are you if you’re not a thug?” she asked, eyeing him with open curiosity.

  “Brianne’s fiancé. Gabe McNeill.” He didn’t offer his hand.

  “McNeill?” The woman’s lips pursed tight. “Rose told me you were Brianne’s boss.”

  “Not anymore.” He tried to sidestep her, to rejoin Brianne.

  But Wendy proved shifty. She stayed right with him, her gaze narrowing. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

  “It’s being sized.” The truth was not her concern, for one thing. And for another, he didn’t trust the gleam of interest in her eyes. He wasn’t going to allow her to make any hassle for Brianne.

  Behind her, the medical workers helped Rose to her feet while Brianne found her some shoes.

  Wendy pointed a finger at him. “You’re the one who was married to the uppity wife.” She nodded, satisfied with herself. “I read about you in one of Brianne’s letters.”

  Brianne glanced up, shooting an apologetic look his way.

  “Those letters were to me, you snoop,” Rose called over. Her hearing had to be very good to key in on that. “And leave that man alone,” she scolded while she slid into a pair of scuffed boots.

  Gabe said nothing; he was finished with the conversation. He knew Brianne well enough to know she hadn’t spilled intimate details of his life to anyone. There was no positive spin to put on his divorce, after all. Then again, he wondered how much Brianne had shared if she thought her letters were only being read by her grandmother. Could her stepmother know anything about him or his family that could prove awkward down the road?

  He wasn’t worried for himself. But if Wendy tried to stir trouble for Brianne, or for his son, there would be hell to pay.

  Brianne scooped up her grandmother’s purse from a chair in the living room before she made her way closer to Gabe.

  “I’m going to the hospital with Nana. I need to ride in the van with her.”

  “Of course.” He heard the worry in her voice. “I’m going with you.”

  “You don’t need to do that.” She shook her head, her gaze tracking Rose’s slow progress across the kitchen as the older woman shuffled along with the help
of an arm from one of the health-care workers. “You’ll want to be with Jason if he has any trouble adjusting to a new environment.”

  “Nadine is completely in her element with any child-care crisis, and she has my number if she needs anything at all. Jason is in good hands. I’m going with you.”

  He wanted to help her. To spend more time with her. And yes, put that ring on her finger as soon as possible. He had enough problems of his own dealing with the aftermath of his divorce and being a good father to Jason. He didn’t need a bitter stepmother suspicious about the validity of his upcoming union.

  The sooner he married Brianne, the better.

  * * *

  “Shhh. We don’t want to wake her.” A man’s soft voice outside Brianne’s door drifted through her dreams the next morning.

  Blinking and disoriented, she stared at the moldings on the tall door of the unfamiliar room. Dull winter daylight filtered over her. Her new home for the foreseeable future, she remembered groggily. She’d arrived here at Gabe’s half brother’s vacant apartment after four in the morning. She’d been just awake enough to help Rose, who now had a cast on her arm, into a bedroom on the second floor before falling into the king-size bed that Gabe had directed her toward on the main level.

  “Gah!” A baby shout-squealed just outside of the door to her suite, making her smile. There was a soft scuffling noise and then a trailing echo of “Gah, gah, gah!” as the sound moved farther away.

  Clearly, father and son were up and about this morning. Envisioning the two of them playing together kept her smile in place.

  Her soon-to-be husband and temporary son.

  The smile faded.

  What on earth had she agreed to yesterday? Sitting up in the most exquisite sheets she’d ever felt, Brianne shoved her tangled hair behind her shoulder and glanced at the old-fashioned bedside clock, only to discover it was almost noon. Muted views of falling snow were visible through the half-drawn shades, and the sounds of the city on the street below were so different from the birds she normally heard in the morning. Here there was the dull rumble of traffic: brakes and horns punctuated with the occasional shrill whistle or shout. A siren in the distance.

  Slowly, reality sank into her foggy brain. She’d agreed to marry her boss in exchange for help with her grandmother. In the clear light of day, without the mesmerizing power of Gabe’s seductive blue eyes on her, Brianne realized how much was at stake now. Her pride? Too late to salvage that. Her heart? She’d have to watch it like a hawk to keep herself from getting too swoony over her sexy fiancé.

  But those costs were nothing compared to that precious baby boy of Gabe’s. Jason had already been semiabandoned by his mother. Gabe had been devastated when Theresa insisted he return to Martinique with the baby while she pursued her career alone. How was it any better for Brianne to form an attachment to the child and then walk away a year later? Jason wasn’t going to understand how important the temporary marriage was for his “legacy.” What would a toddler care about that?

  Throwing aside the covers, she hurried into the shower and rinsed off fast. She towel-dried her hair, brushed her teeth and threw on some wrinkled clothes from her suitcase before padding out into a library full of books about architecture and design. Beautiful prints of the New York skyline covered the walls in the few spots there were no books or windows.

  She followed the sounds of baby giggles and found Nadine with Jason in the kitchen. The boy whacked a wooden spoon against a silver mixing bowl on the floor.

  “Morning.” Nadine offered a cheery smile from her spot at the kitchen counter, where she sat with a map of the city and a highlighter. “I hope we weren’t too noisy.”

  Jason stared up at Brianne from his spot on the marble tiles, his shoulders bobbing as if he had a song in his heart. He shook the spoon at her. She bent to smooth his dark curls and helped him to tap his makeshift drum.

  “Goodness no. I should have gotten out of bed ages ago.” Straightening, she tried to glance into the next room, down the hall, but couldn’t see past a set of partially closed French doors. “Do you know if my grandmother is awake?”

  “It’s been quiet upstairs. Mr. McNeill said you got home really late.” Nadine folded the map, then slid her papers and phone to the far side of the stainless-steel countertop. “A nurse’s aide arrived about ten this morning, though, and she’s upstairs in the study outside of your grandmother’s bedroom in case she needs anything.”

  “Great.” That was a thoughtful gesture from Gabe, who’d arranged for rotating nursing staff the night before while they’d been waiting for Nana to get her X-rays. “I’ll go introduce myself in a minute. Is Gabe here?”

  She needed to see him. Speak to him. Explain that they must put Jason first and foremost before they went through with this marriage.

  “In the office.” Nadine pointed through the French doors. “It’s on the right through there.”

  “Thanks.” Brianne wouldn’t have thought twice about joining him in his workshop back in Martinique, but this place was a whole different world from the Birdsong Hotel.

  Views of Central Park blanketed in frosty white glittered through the windowpanes, with more flurries swirling in the air. She hadn’t seen snow since she was a kid and part of her still longed to run outside and play in it. But seeing her grandmother’s injuries and living conditions had made her more committed than ever to take more responsibility.

  But the snow wasn’t the only difference in the scenery. Here, there was no escaping the vast divide between the world she came from and the one Gabe moved in. She remembered the icy chill of a cheap studio apartment in winter like her grandmother’s. Gabe McNeill, on the other hand, was no stranger to homes like this one, a full-amenity hotel with a prestigious Fifth Avenue address. He’d introduced her to the wonders of concierge service and twenty-four-hour in-room dining the night before, explaining how she could order food from the hotel’s restaurants anytime.

  He traveled with a nanny for his son. Produced home health care for her grandmother at the snap of his fingers. Brianne owed him so much. And she was so out of her league with this man.

  “Gabe?” She tapped the back of her knuckles on the half-open office door. Brianne peeked inside to see him wave her forward.

  Cell phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, he pointed toward a silver tea cart with a coffee carafe and two small warming trays with domes. It was a breakfast invitation that her grumbling stomach answered before she’d made up her mind to stay. He was already wheeling the tea cart closer to the window, next to a couple of gray wingback chairs.

  “I came here to spend time with Malcolm and the rest of the family,” Gabe said into the phone, juggling it from one hand to the other. “I hope to spend time with him. So if he’s not going to be in New York, maybe I should head out to Wyoming see him.” He paused, listening. “Sure. Let me know either way, Ian. And thanks for the apartment.”

  He disconnected the call while Brianne stood in the middle of the office, watching him. She wouldn’t have guessed he’d been up until four in the morning with her and then out of bed before her to play with his son. He was dressed more casually today in a pair of jeans worn in all the right places. The black button-down he wore was another one of those custom-made pieces that fit him perfectly, his nipped-in waist and broad shoulders accentuated just enough to make a woman’s pulse leap a bit.

  “Morning.” He greeted her with a warm smile that made her remember how easy it had been to strike up a friendship with him. “Come join me for breakfast. I ordered the darkest roast coffee in the whole hotel, just the way you like.”

  She realized she’d been staring. Gawking, really. Apparently having a marriage proposal on the table was counterproductive to keeping her thoughts platonic. But damn it, they’d started as friends. Surely she could still have a reasonable conversation with him.

  “Thank you.�
� The fragrant scent had her moving toward the wingbacks. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I need to talk to you.”

  “You’re not interrupting anything.” He waited for her to sit and then pulled the domes off the breakfast trays. “I’ve been anxious to speak to you, too.” He poured her a cup of coffee and passed her the mug. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Like a rock, thank you.” Memories of waking up to his voice skated over her skin. “I was shocked at how long I was out.”

  “You needed it after yesterday.” He filled a white china plate with eggs and toast, then passed that to her, too. “You must be hungry.”

  Taking a second dish, he arranged more food on it for himself before sitting in the chair beside her. Brianne fixed her coffee, adding the cream, while she thought about how to raise the issue of their temporary marriage.

  “I feel like I dreamed half of what happened yesterday,” she admitted, taking a careful sip of her drink.

  He stilled for a moment, then set his breakfast on the end table nearby. “If you’re referring to the proposal, I hope it was a good dream.” He reached for a flat box under the tea cart and set the heavy wooden case on the ottoman in front of her. “Although this might make our arrangement feel more real.”

  Flicking open the metal clasp on the box, he lifted the lid to reveal an expanse of blue satin filled with diamonds.

  Wedding rings glittered and winked in the light. Her breath caught at the dazzling display, millions of dollars’ worth of jewels casually there for the taking. Perhaps he heard her small gasp because Gabe rose and came around to stand behind her chair, his hands suddenly on her shoulders. She felt a solid, steadying warmth. More than that, even.

  Affection. And yes, desire. Her heartbeat stuttered.

  Leaning closer, he kissed her temple and stared into the box with her.

  “I’d like you to choose a ring for our wedding, Brianne.”

  Six

  Anticipation firing through him, Gabe angled back to see her reaction.