For the Sake of His Heir

by Joanne Rock

  “No need.” Nana held up a weak hand and waved off the idea. “I hid all the best stuff where she’d never think to look.”

  “Where?” she pressed, fearful her grandmother would fall back into a drug-induced sleep before revealing her secret hiding place.

  Nana’s satisfied chuckle assured Brianne she wasn’t sleeping yet. “In the broom closet there’s a false wall behind the cleaning supplies. Ms. Wendy would never bother to pick up the ammonia, and that’s the truth.” She pointed an arthritic finger in Brianne’s direction. “Go get married, girlie, and have extra fun for your Nana who doesn’t have a man in her life right now.”

  “Okay.” Brianne hurried back toward the bed and gave her grandmother’s cheek a second kiss. “Feel better soon, Nana.”

  Backing away, she almost ran in to the nurse, who was hustling closer.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing, miss,” Adella said, drawing up a fresh needle to attach to the port in Nana’s arm. “Her vitals are strong and I’m going to take good care of her with the help of two respite workers. She’ll be much improved by the time you return.”

  “Thank you.” Brianne wanted to hug the woman for the tender way she nursed Nana. “I’m so grateful.”

  “Call me anytime you’re worried or want an update,” Adella urged before gesturing toward the door. “Now don’t make that handsome groom of yours wait any longer. Many blessings to you both on your wedding day.”

  Brianne’s chest tightened again at the reminder of all the people she was deceiving, and would continue to deceive all year long.

  “Thank you.” She tried to smile like any other bride, but the truth was, her delphinium petals were quivering even harder as she walked out of her grandmother’s room and headed toward the stairs.

  Now she was nervous not just about the wedding, but about her stepmother’s underhanded schemes to get her hands on Nana’s few belongings. As soon as the ceremony was over, Brianne would solicit Gabe’s help to secure that Brooklyn apartment and clear out the contents.

  Strains of classical music rose from the living room. A lone violinist played something festive. Not a traditional wedding song, but the sound was rich and beautiful.

  Would Gabe have gone to the trouble and expense of a violinist for their justice-of-the-peace vows? Her sling-back heel caught on the last step and she steadied herself on the banister.

  Of course he would. Just look at how much he’d spent on the selection of dresses—seven to choose from—and shoes. Then there was the pink rose-cut diamond and matching wedding band he would slide on her finger any moment. He was a good, thoughtful man, and he’d made it very clear he wanted her to be happy.

  If only he knew that’s what she was afraid of. What if he made her so happy she couldn’t walk away?

  Reaching the formal living room, Brianne spotted Nadine and Jason playing off to one side while two household staffers—a maid and Ian McNeill’s personal assistant—signed a book on the antique secretary. Gabe had hoped one of his half brothers might be able to attend—especially since one of them lived in the same building. But Ian, Quinn and Cameron were all out of town this week, leaving Gabe and Brianne to celebrate the wedding with the few people on staff.

  A female violinist wearing a long, velvet skirt sat in a straight-backed chair in the farthest corner of the room, her head bowed over her instrument as she glided over the strings to produce the exquisite Mozart melody filling the room.

  The most commanding presence, however, was Gabe himself. His dark jacket and silver-colored tie suited him, lending a formality to their day wedding. The clothes were perfectly pressed, and his hair, still damp from a shower, was sleeker than normal. It made her realize how starkly handsome his features were without any hair falling over his forehead in appealing disarray. Today, he looked every bit the billionaire, from his thin timepiece to his polished loafers.

  She was so busy gawking, Brianne almost forgot she was the bride until the whole room grew quiet.

  Every head turned to her as she hovered uncertainly at the archway leading into the gray, modern living area. She felt all the eyes upon her in a vague way since the only gaze that really mattered was Gabe’s. His blue eyes seemed to speak to her across the room, the slow simmer of appreciative heat giving her courage to lift her chin.

  Uphold her end of their hasty bargain.

  Almost as soon as she had the thought, the violinist began the recognizable strains of the “Wedding March.” It didn’t feel like a marriage in name only with that music playing, with the delphiniums wavering in her bouquet, the ivory-colored lace skimming her thighs as she stepped deeper into the room. Her pulse quickened and her gaze locked with Gabe’s.

  How many times had she sneaked hungry glances at him over the last year? How often had she reminded herself he was off-limits?

  Now he was all hers.

  For an entire year.

  As she drew even with him near the window overlooking Central Park, Brianne handed off her bouquet to Nadine and thought about her grandmother’s words.

  Make yourself happy first.

  It didn’t apply. Shouldn’t matter since she wasn’t marrying Gabe for real. But how could she not imagine making herself happy with this sexy and endlessly capable man looking at her like he might kiss her at any moment?

  She faced him when the violin music halted and the city clerk launched into the celebrant’s speech. They hadn’t written vows so they were using the simplest ceremony possible.

  Too nervous to hear any of it, Brianne tried to tell herself Gabriel McNeill was the same guy she’d worked for at Birdsong. The one she’d teased and shoulder-bumped. The one who could raise an old building from the dead with his woodworking prowess and—yes—talented hands. She trusted him to protect her grandmother’s things—and Nana herself—while they were on their honeymoon.

  “I do,” she blurted at what seemed to be the right time, although she had a moment’s horror that the clerk had asked Gabe to repeat the words and not her.

  But no, he was asking Gabe the same questions now.

  The rings slid onto her finger. She placed a platinum band on Gabe’s hand.

  Their fingers interlaced afterward. She didn’t know if she’d initiated that or Gabe had, but she didn’t want to let go. His nearness bolstered her when she was feeling nervous. Weird, because he was half the reason she felt nervous in the first place. But she couldn’t shake the comfort she took in his presence after the working relationship they’d developed. She hoped she didn’t mess up that friendship by marrying him.

  “You may kiss the bride.” The words intruded on her frenzy of worries. It was the first truly clear message that had gotten through to her brain in the past fifteen minutes.

  Kiss. The. Bride.

  Each word echoed in slow motion in Brianne’s mind. She watched Gabe’s response to them, seeing the way he smiled at the representative from the clerk’s office and then turned his full attention back to her.

  The heat in his midnight blue eyes burned away everything else: the quiet of the room as a handful of people watched them, Jason with his distinctive baby sounds squealing over something. All of it seemed to happen elsewhere as Gabe wrapped his strong hands around her waist.

  His touch warmed her right through two layers of lace and silk. Her senses swirled as he lowered his head toward hers, just the same way it had happened in countless forbidden fantasies. Her eyelids fluttered. She might have swayed on her feet.

  The man had her spellbound.

  Suspense killing her, she couldn’t wait another moment or she risked swooning in his arms like a starry-eyed teenager. She clutched the lapels of his dark gray suit, anchoring herself upright. Tilting her face, she brushed her mouth to his in the barest imitation of a kiss. But before she could ease away, Gabe’s fingers splayed wider on her back, spanning more of her spine as he drew her fully
against him.

  Heat scorched through her. His lips claimed hers, and he kissed her like he had all the time in the world to show her how rewarding being Mrs. Gabe McNeill could be.

  Seven

  The kiss was meant to seal the deal. As a bonus, Gabe thought the contact might awaken his bride to the idea that physical intimacy could be a source of tremendous pleasure for them both.

  What he hadn’t bargained on was how much the feel of her lips would sear straight through his carefully laid plans to set his own body on fire. Brianne’s fingers flexed against his chest, her nails lightly scoring his jacket before she pulled him tighter against her.

  For a moment, he ignored everything else. While the witnesses held their collective breaths, Gabe deepened the kiss, taking the full taste of Brianne that he’d secretly craved from the first time they’d met. He sipped and savored her, letting the minty hesitation of her tongue melt away beneath his. The flavor of her raced through his bloodstream like a direct injection.

  Off to Gabe’s side, he heard a discreet cough followed by the clearing of a throat. The celebrant, he realized dimly, giving him a cue.

  Reluctantly, Gabe pulled away from his new wife. His one consolation was watching her eyelids flutter open slowly, and her lips part in surprise.

  As Nadine and the rest of their witnesses applauded, Gabe wanted to whisk away his bride with a fierceness that surprised him. The attraction felt like a fire suddenly exposed to oxygen. It whooshed around him so fast he wondered if it had singed his eyebrows.

  “Congratulations, Mr. McNeill,” the official from the clerk’s office said as he packed up his book and paperwork. “I’ll leave a copy of the marriage certificate with you.”

  Gabe took another moment to pull away his eyes from Brianne’s dazed brown gaze.

  “Of course.” He passed the man a check and tried to run through his mental checklist of things to do before he and Brianne boarded their private flight to Cheyenne.

  “May I take a photo, Mr. McNeill?” one of the maids asked as she shook Brianne’s hand.

  The woman was already holding up her phone. In fact, Gabe had asked her to quietly submit a story to the tabloid of her choice to make a little extra money on the side. She’d only accepted once he convinced her she could give the fee to a charity of her choice. Apparently, Ian’s wife worked closely with a single mothers’ charity and the maid had agreed it would be a worthy place to contribute the funds.

  Beside him, Brianne reached for her bouquet for their photo, her eyes a little glazed and shell-shocked. He understood the feeling. Because even though they’d wed for practical purposes, they had still changed their lives forever. Nadine brought over Jason and handed the baby to him for the picture. His son wore a baby version of a tux, although the bow tie was simply sewn onto the cotton shirt.

  “I would be glad to have a copy of the photo,” Gabe told the maid, drawing Brianne closer for a picture he knew would be circulating online before they landed in Wyoming tonight.

  Automatically, Brianne kissed Jason’s head as she tipped her temple closer to the boy, reminding Gabe how connected the two of them had become these last ten months. Jason adored her. Was it so wrong of Gabe to want that strong feminine presence in the boy’s life? There was no denying Brianne had an ease with the child and she seemed as smitten with Jason as he was with her.

  “I need to speak to you privately,” Brianne whispered while the woman snapped a few photos of the three of them. “It’s urgent.”

  “Of course. I’ve already paid the clerk and we have the license. The violinist is packing up. We’re all finished here.” Gabe handed Jason back to Nadine so the boy could have his nap. Gabe was only too happy to have an excuse to disband the small group assembled to witness the wedding so he could speak to her alone. But her tone concerned him. “Is everything all right?” he asked as they strode out of the living room and into a small butler’s pantry nearby.

  “No.” She shook her head, her beautiful dark hair shimmering in the overhead lights as they stood in the tight space full of floor-to-ceiling gray cabinets. “I spoke to Nana just before the ceremony and she said Wendy has been stealing from her and that we need to take precautions before my stepmother empties the whole house.”

  Gabe resisted the urge to swear. Barely.

  “I’ll call the police.” He withdrew his phone from the pocket of his jacket.

  “No. Nana asked me not to.” Brianne put her hand over his to stop him, her touch reminding him how good she’d felt in his arms. “I wondered if we could have the place cleaned out and Nana’s things put into storage until we move to Martinique.”

  He took a moment to absorb Brianne’s words since the rest of him was all about the feel of her touch. Her gaze held his for a moment before she went to pull away her hand. He prevented her from moving too far, linking their fingers instead while that crackle of awareness fired through him.

  “If that’s really what you prefer.” He nodded, remembering a conversation he’d had with Damon earlier in the day. “When Damon was staying in New York, he had a couple of bodyguards from a security firm that specializes in privacy and protection.” They were based in Silicon Valley, close to where Damon lived these days, but Gabe was familiar with the group from his time out there working on their software start-up. And they had a branch in New York. “I can get a couple of guys over there today, I’m sure.”

  “Would you?” Her fingers brushed the back of his hand, her pink diamond wedding ring glinting. She swayed ever so slightly toward him.

  “I’ll make it my top priority and call now.” He was glad to do this for her, considering the way he was leaking the marriage news without telling her.

  “Thank you.” She squeezed his wrist. “So much.”

  “Of course. Brianne, we’re married now. I’ll do whatever I can to make your life easier and happier.” It wasn’t a declaration of love, but after the hellish experience he’d had with marriage, this was a vow that he meant. One he would keep. He already cared about Brianne deeply, so it was a pleasure to repay her for all the ways she’d been a good friend to him and to his son. “Do you think you can be ready to leave in another hour?”

  “Easily. I’ve got a bag packed. I just need to get out of this dress.” Letting go of him, she stared down at the close fitting minidress and the matching long jacket. “It’s only got a million buttons up the back.”

  He couldn’t imagine a better reason to delay their flight. Visions of helping Brianne out of her lace dress turned the air sultry in the narrow butler’s pantry.

  He lowered his voice, speaking close to her ear. “Once again, my services are at your disposal.”

  She glanced up fast. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  There was a hint of wariness in her tone. But there was something else, too. Awareness? Curiosity? Perhaps the kiss had sparked a new hunger in her, too. There’d always been the possibility of more simmering under the surface of their friendship.

  “And yet think how much time it will save you if I get the top few buttons started.” He reached around her and pushed some of her hair from the center of her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the layers of lace. “I can unfasten a few, and then you can put the jacket back on so no one will know they’re undone when you walk to your room. You can go through the kitchen, if you want, but I think the living room will be empty in another minute.”

  Lips pursed, she seemed to think it over.

  Then, slowly, she turned around, presenting him with her back. Shrugging the lace jacket partially off her shoulders, she let the fabric catch at her elbows so that the top of her dress was exposed.

  His heart rate accelerated.

  He could lock the doors on either end of the narrow pantry and have guaranteed privacy. Instead, he simply slid a finger beneath the collar of the white lace dress and lifted it away from her warm
skin. He used a thumb to push the first button back through the loop, freeing it. Then he repeated the action with another and another, revealing a narrow patch of bronzed skin between her shoulder blades.

  He leaned closer, breathing in the scent of her soap and floral shampoo while she couldn’t see him. Tucking his fingers deeper in the dress, he let his knuckles brush her skin for a moment. Then they grazed the silk of her undergarments—the stiff strap of the bra that kept her lush curves in place.

  “That’s good,” she said hastily, stepping forward so fast he nearly pulled off a button accidentally. “Thank you.”

  She kept her back turned for another moment as she shrugged into the matching lace jacket again.

  Gabe’s heart pounded so hard he was about to get light-headed in another minute. Touching her at all had been a bonus, he reminded himself.

  “The car will be here at three o’clock to take us to the airport,” he told her, his voice rough with unfulfilled want.

  “I’ll be ready.” She glanced over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

  He’d bet her heart was hammering, too. Knowing that made him all the more ready to start the honeymoon.

  * * *

  Four hours and sixteen hundred miles later, Brianne still couldn’t get Gabe’s touch off her mind.

  They disembarked in a private airfield north of Cheyenne, Wyoming, to a bitter wind that left her breathless. When they were in New York, she’d accepted a wool coat left behind by a guest of the McNeills, and now she clutched the long, dark cape tighter as Gabe guided her toward the hulking black SUV waiting nearby with its lights on. Because of the time difference, it was still daylight here. The airstrip was so deserted it looked like an open field except for the two lit runways and one small metal hangar. Snow swirled around her feet like a fluffy tornado, the white crystalline flakes glinting like the facets of her pink diamond as they swirled.

  And even in that shock of cold whipping off the nearby mountains, Brianne’s skin still warmed automatically when her husband touched her through heavy wool, the sensory memory of what had happened in the butler’s pantry heating a shivery path down her spine.