Bachelor's Bought Bride

by Jennifer Lewis

  “That’s okay, we’ve got forty-five minutes. I figured you’d want to freshen up. You’re such a stylish dresser.” His gray eyes drifted over the simple black pantsuit she’d worn.

  Bree Kincannon, a stylish dresser. She had been, lately. How funny.

  Panic snuck through her as she realized she needed him out of the house so she could pack her things and get the cats into their crates. “Gavin, would you do me a huge favor and pick up a box of prints from my dad’s house while I get changed?” That would take a good forty-five minutes, and he wouldn’t have time to come home. “Give me the address of the restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sure. Here it is.” He fished a sleek black matchbox out of his pocket, and handed it to her. She glanced at the address. Good, she could park in the public lot nearby.

  She drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves. “It’s a big blue plastic box to the left of my desk. I can’t believe I forgot it.” She didn’t really need the box—her collection of prints that didn’t quite make the cut—but this was her chance to get some time alone. To plan her escape. Heck, maybe he’d even run into her dad and they could have a nice round of congratulations….

  Right before she blew their nasty little plot out of the water.

  Gavin escorted her into the city’s most exclusive new restaurant. Well-heeled diners, many in elegant evening clothes, sat at tables decorated with fresh flowers. Golden light shone through a wall of windows with a lovely view over the water. His hand on her lower back guided her through the forest of floor length tablecloths to the table with the best view of all, on a tiny balcony jutting out toward the bay.

  “You must know people to get this table,” she whispered.

  “Only the best for my beautiful bride.”

  Bree’s stomach clenched. This atmosphere of hushed refinement was hardly the place to make a scene. Maybe she’d better wait until they got home before she confronted him.

  No, she had the whole thing planned. Her car was packed and her cats sitting quietly in their crates, with the windows cracked to give them air. She had a two-week supply of Ali’s medicine and Faith’s special food.

  Terror unfurled inside her. Could she really do this? Just take off?

  She drew in a deep, shaky breath, which caused her breasts to swell in the oh-so-stylish green dress she’d donned for the occasion. She wanted Gavin to remember her looking good, right before she brought the guillotine down on all his neat plans.

  Gavin pulled back her seat, the perfect gentleman as always. She eased herself into it and spread the fine linen napkin on her lap. The waiter poured champagne and described the creative dishes on special.

  “You were fantastic today.” Gavin rested a warm gaze on her face. If she hadn’t known better she’d think it was genuine admiration. “You had such an easy way with the clients. Some people are very nervous around them.”

  “I was trained from an early age.” The heiress thing. She’d learned to converse comfortably with everyone from royalty to the staff, while mastering the alphabet. “Comes in handy sometimes.”

  “And you were so calm, even though we all knew we had only one day for the shoot.”

  “I knew we’d get it done.”

  “I wish there were more photographers like you around.” He grinned and raised his glass. Why did he have to be so gorgeous? The smile sneaking across her mouth should be fake, but it wasn’t. She just couldn’t help it. Gavin was infuriatingly likeable.

  “Why, so you could hire them instead of me?” She raised a brow and winked.

  “Why do that, when I can keep it all in the family?” He reached across the table and she gave him her hand. “Isn’t it just too perfect?”

  “Yes, it’s just too perfect.” She struggled to keep emotion out of her voice.

  Gavin’s eyes sparkled with excitement about his new venture, not passion for her. Everything was too neat and pretty and nice to be real.

  Because, of course, it wasn’t.

  The waiter served the artfully prepared appetizers. Bree picked up her fork, but her stomach was not interested in food and anxiety boiled in her gut.

  Now. Tell him now.

  But how could she, when he beamed with such pure happiness? She was usually the one to smooth everything over and soothe the proverbial troubled waters. She preferred to ease hurt feelings and make everyone feel better—even at her own expense. She was good old Bree, who you could always count on in a crunch.

  Or at least she used to be.

  Before dreams she’d never known she had all came true—and then fell apart within a week in the most cruel and hurtful way possible. Pain stabbed her chest, goading her into action.

  She looked up from her sautéed shrimp. “Gavin, when exactly did you know you’d fallen in love with me?”

  A tiny frown appeared on his forehead. “Hmm, what an interesting question.”

  “Was it when you first saw me, in that frumpy gray dress with no makeup and my wild-haystack hair?” She maintained a pleasant expression. “When I was so nervous I could hardly speak?”

  He cocked his head. “No, I don’t think it was right then.”

  “So why did you ask me to dance?”

  “Why not?”

  “Well—” she swallowed “—it’s just that men usually only ask me to dance when they’re interested in my money.” She leveled a serious gaze at him. “I’m used to that. Somehow it all seemed different with you.”

  “Because it was different with me. I’m attracted to you, not your wealth.” He took a sip of champagne. For a split second she thought she saw a flicker of unease cross his chiseled features. “I’m attracted to you for who you are.”

  Hurt welled inside Bree. How could he maintain a pleasant expression while telling such outright lies?

  “But you were more attracted to me once I…changed my image.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” A cute, rueful grin tugged at his mouth. “Okay, maybe I would. You really are a knockout when you dress the part, Bree.”

  “I know that now. Though I really should give Elle all the credit. She’s the one who transformed me from a frizzy-haired wallflower into the belle of the ball. Quite the fairy godmother, really. And I even got the handsome prince in the end, too.”

  Gavin frowned. “Elle transformed you? What is she up to? Ever since Brock told me she’s the spy, I know there’s far more to her than meets the eye. You should be careful around her. Who knows what she was trying to get out of you. You didn’t give her any financial information, did you?”

  “Of course not.” No, we wouldn’t want her getting her hands on the money you want for yourself. Tears welled inside her, but she held them back. Not yet. There’d be plenty of time for crying later. “But I did like her. And trust her. I’m a trusting person, or at least I used to be.” Her voice cracked.

  “She’s broken your trust?”

  Bree drew in a slow, steady breath. “Not her. Someone else.”

  Gavin frowned. “Who?” He leaned forward. “Just tell me and I’ll go sort them out. I don’t want anyone hurting your feelings.” His gray eyes fixed on her face with probing intensity.

  “You.”

  The single word fell from her lips and hung in the air for a moment.

  Gavin’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”

  “No? Maybe you’d understand if I mentioned a certain number with six zeros.”

  He put his fork down on the tablecloth, still staring straight at her, and shoved a hand through his dark hair.

  “I overheard a message my father left on your machine, thanking you for taking me off his hands—for a sizeable price, of course, since obviously no one would want to be stuck with me for nothing.” Her voice rattled with the tears that wanted to come, but she forced herself to stay steady.

  “He offered to help me start my own business. It’s a simple investment on his part.” He had the decency to look alarmed.

  “Don’t lie to me.” She raised
her voice. “I heard what he said. He was surprised you managed to seduce me into it so quickly. Usually I’m more sensible than that.” She pulled her wedding and engagement rings from her finger, struggling to get them over her knuckle. “I’ve had plenty of men sniffing around my money and pretending to like me, so usually I can spot them a mile off. You were different, though. Far better looking, for one thing.”

  She took a final glance at his fine, handsome face. The kind of face she could have happily photographed and kissed for a lifetime—if it weren’t the face of a scheming traitor.

  “I am different. I’m not interested in your money.”

  “You took it, though, didn’t you?”

  “Your father’s money.” His voice was gruff. “Yes, I took it. Because I wanted to start my own business. I’d been waiting a long time and suffered some financial setbacks that made it impossible until your father offered me the chance—”

  “To take advantage of a going-out-of-business sale on his spinster daughter.” She blinked back tears. “Now I know why you were in such a rush to get married. Why you didn’t want a long engagement with an announcement in the papers, or even a real wedding. None of that was important to you because it wasn’t about our marriage—or us—at all. It was all about money. Well, I’m not here to be given away, even with a million dollars.” Her voice rang out, shattering the hushed refinement of the exclusive restaurant as she rose to her feet and threw the rings at him. They bounced across the tablecloth and disappeared as her chair crashed to the wood floor.

  She rushed for the door, bumping into a table on the way and almost dragging the tablecloth with her, unsteady in her high heels. Panting, tears now running down her cheeks, she shoved her way out the door and ran for the fire stairs, clattering down until she reached street level.

  Gavin wasn’t behind her. Had she hoped he’d rush after her, try to convince her it was all a big mistake? She should have known better.

  Their fairy-tale romance was a farce and the broken pieces of her dreams could never be put back together again.

  It was almost completely dark when she reached the street, and she stayed in the shadows away from the streetlamps until she got to her car, parked two blocks away. Her hands shook as she fumbled in her bag for the keys, but Ali and Faith greeted her with mewing and purrs. “I’m here, ladies. We’re making our escape together.”

  She settled into the cold leather seat and started the engine. Something tight gripped her heart as she pulled out into the late rush-hour traffic and headed for the freeway.

  It was over.

  With any luck, she’d never see Gavin again. Maybe one day she’d even forget him.

  No. She’d never forget him. How could she forget someone who had tricked her into pledging her whole life to him?

  How could she forget the firm warmth of his arms around her? The powerful touch of his fingers on her skin, or the soft enticement of his kiss?

  “Damn him!” She pounded her fist on the wheel. Why did he have to introduce her to pleasures she’d never dared hope for? He should pay for that.

  He would. She knew he would. Even if there wasn’t a big scandal.

  Her father would be sure to ask for the money back. He wasn’t going to pay a million dollars for a marriage that had lasted less than a month. Elliott Kincannon was far too shrewd an investor for that.

  No. Gavin would have to pay it all back, his business would fold and soon he’d be begging Brock Maddox to take him back.

  Guilt speared through her, and she cursed herself for it. Deep down she still wanted him to succeed and be happy. And why not? That’s the kind of sucker she was.

  She let out a howl of anguish, spilling her pain into the night air.

  What a fool she’d been, to think someone could love her for herself.

  Nine

  Gavin’s gaze followed the rings as they bounced across the tablecloth, onto the floor. Slightly dazed, he ducked down and groped on the floor to retrieve them. Bree’s angry words rattled in his skull.

  Yes—there it was—the triple diamond his grandmother had left him. He palmed it and sat up, relieved.

  “Bree—”

  She’d gone. He scanned the room, but she seemed to have vanished into the understated decor. He stood, ring still clutched in his hand.

  “Can I help you, sir?” A waiter hurried over.

  “Where did she go?”

  “Your companion?”

  “Yes!” Glancing about, he saw only the faces of strangers.

  “I’m afraid I didn’t see.” He leaned closer. “Perhaps she’s in the ladies’.”

  Gavin frowned. “I don’t think so. I’d better pay the check.” Urgency prickled under his skin.

  “The entrées won’t be a minute, sir.”

  “No, but…I have to go.” People were staring. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three fifties. Hopefully that would cover it.

  Damn, the other ring. He got down on the floor and peered around at the polished wood. The engraved gold band inscribed with both their initials sat quietly near a table leg. He snatched it up and pocketed it before climbing to his feet.

  “Is there a problem, sir?” The maître d’ approached, concern written on his dark brow.

  “No problem at all. Just that something’s come up.” He cleared his throat. He could feel the curious stares and hear the whispered innuendo of the guests around him. He slid the crisp bills into the hand of the maître d’ and murmured, “Keep the change.”

  Still stunned and not quite sure what was happening, he marched for the door. Out on the street he looked both ways. No sign of her. A cold fist of anxiety clenched in his gut. Why was she so upset? Was it really such a big deal that he’d accepted an…investment from her dad?

  He shoved a hand through his hair. Of course it was a big deal. She thought he’d married her just for the money.

  Guilt soaked through him, with a chaser of shame. It had seemed like a happy chain of events, leading to a favorable outcome for everyone involved. But he’d lost perspective on how it had all started.

  How would her dad react? Gavin wondered if Elliott Kincannon knew she’d found out. Maybe he could talk her out of causing a big scandal. That wouldn’t be good for any of them.

  And if she broke off the marriage, Kincannon might demand the one million dollars back.

  Gavin stopped dead still, right in the middle of the road. A car swerved around him and he leaped to the sidewalk. He’d already spent a good chunk of the money on the lease for the new offices. And given a deposit to the contractor renovating the conference room. The money wasn’t even his to give back anymore.

  He marched through the lamp-lit streets. The apartment wasn’t far, so he hadn’t bothered with the car. He and Bree enjoyed their evening strolls after they went out to dinner or a gallery opening. She knew a lot about the city’s architecture and history, and was always pointing out interesting nooks and crannies he’d never noticed before. The city had really come alive for him since he’d met Bree.

  A pang of regret stung his chest. How awful that she’d found out like this. He could just picture her overhearing that message. She must have been devastated. If only he could find her and explain that he really did care about her and not about the money.

  The elevator seemed to move like molasses on the way up to the apartment. What if she was already gone by the time he got there? He’d have to track her down at her father’s house and he didn’t relish seeing the old man’s face if there was a whiff of scandal in the air. Still, no need to panic, he’d find her, tell her he really loved her, and everything would be okay. He hoped.

  He knocked on the door. It was her home too, now. He didn’t want to barge in if she was crying.

  No answer. He slid his key in the lock and opened the door softly.

  “Bree?”

  The apartment was dark. He flicked on a light and waited for the sleek shadow of Bree’s friendlier cat to appear, but nothing moved. “Faith
? Where are you, Ali?”

  Dread settled over him like a cold morning fog. The cats were gone, too. She couldn’t possibly have had time to come back and get them already, so she must have taken them with her. He strode to her closet and flung it open. To his surprise, he found it still filled with her clothes, most of them new, some with the tags still hanging on them.

  So she wasn’t gone for good. Unless she had planned to abandon her new look along with him.

  A nasty feeling goaded him back out the door and into the parking garage. He needed to get to the Kincannon mansion and win her back. And he needed to get there before the old man heard about their public breakup from someone else.

  Usually a slow driver, Bree fought an urge to speed on the freeway. The lights of cars in the opposite lane danced like fireflies in the darkness, dazzling her and adding to her confused state of mind. She slowed down as a light mist of rain blurred the windshield and her phone rang.

  Probably Gavin. She wasn’t going to answer it. She let it ring and go to voice mail. Then it started ringing again. Again she let it go to voice mail. But the ringing continued and Ali started to mew in protest.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll pull over and I’ll tell that jerk to stop bothering us.” She pulled into a gas station and picked up the call, which was probably the sixth in succession.

  “Stop calling me, I don’t want to—”

  “Bree, it’s me, Elle.”

  She stiffened. “What do you want?” It came out just as rude as she intended. Now that she knew Elle was some kind of corporate traitor, she saw her new “friend” in an entirely different light. “Are you going to tell Gavin where I’m going?”

  She’d told Elle her escape plan after the party. Before she’d learned about Elle’s darker side.

  “I still think you should rethink this whole thing.” She heard Elle draw breath. “When are you planning to leave?”

  “I’m already gone.” She said it with grim satisfaction. “I’m on the road right now.”

  “Still going to Napa?”

  “I’m really regretting telling you my plans since I’ve learned you’re a spy.”