Chayton

by Danielle Bourdon

  Kate considered all of the things that had happened up to this point. Although Chayton wore a no nonsense expression, and indicated by his tone that he didn't want to go into depth about it, she wasn't satisfied with that answer. “So you put yourselves in dangerous situations, like with the trafficking ring you mentioned back in the beginning. How do you even find out about those kinds of things?”

  Chayton said nothing for several minutes. “Like I said. We like to be in the know.”

  Kate scoffed. “Chayton, I deserve a better answer than that.”

  “That's all the answer you're going to get.”

  She leaned back in the chair, a little surprised that he refused to give up any more information. Then again—what right did she have to demand answers of him? For all she knew, he planned to ship her home the second it was all right to do so. He'd said nothing of working things out, or even wanting to. It mattered to Kate that he put himself in dangerous situations, though, and she couldn't ignore the tension building in her shoulders. It wasn't just that she was pregnant with his child, and that she thought he shouldn't do that for the baby's sake, but she didn't want to see anything bad happen. He was a good man, with a big heart, and the thought of him injured—or worse—upset her more than she wanted to admit. Without telling him about the baby, he couldn't make the decision for himself whether or not to give up these extracurricular jaunts.

  What would she do if he insisted on doing them anyway?

  “What's on your mind, Kate?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “The things you're not saying. The things you won't say. It just makes me wonder, that's all.” She didn't press him for more information right then.

  “Don't worry about it. I'm still around, aren't I?” He smiled, a thin curve at the corners of his mouth. “I'll let you get some rest. When you're feeling up to it, when everything else gets worked out with the authorities, we'll see about taking you home.”

  . . .

  Chayton walked away from Kate's room, rolling his chin left and right to ease the tightness in his neck and shoulders. One hand lifted to rub at the muscles while he stalked the hallways to his suite. The look on Kate's face when he'd mentioned taking her home played over and over in his mind.

  She'd looked surprised. Almost stricken. Maybe disappointed. He wasn't sure if it was any of those or all of them combined.

  Pouring himself a drink from the sidebar, he lifted the glass to his mouth and went to the window. The potent liquor burned going down and gave his senses a jolt. He was doing far more drinking lately than was his preference.

  Staring out at the expansive scenery of his lands, Chayton considered his options. Taking Kate, who had said nothing about their marriage or their situation, back home seemed to be the right choice. Although relieved to know she had gone to Anton to offer him money in an effort to keep him safe, it didn't automatically fix things. There was a giant, awkward gap between them that he wasn't sure how to bridge.

  The biggest question, he supposed, was did he want to make things work? He'd thought so since discovering Kate had been taken against her will in Hawaii. His internal strife thinking Kate might have died in the car accident was more proof that he wasn't ready to end the marriage, fake as it was. Yet he'd offered to take her home when she was ready, because he'd felt he had no other choice.

  Maybe they both needed a day or two to come down from all the tension before they could discuss whatever future might wait in front of them.

  . . .

  Kate pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to five. Then, into the phone she held at her ear, she said, “All right, Shelby. Thank you. I understand, yes. Tomorrow at three.”

  Hanging up, Kate leaned her hip against the desk in her suite and fought down the urge to cry. Shelby, her trusted personal assistant and one of the few to escape Anton's wrath, had informed her that the business was doing well. Everything was running as smoothly as it ever had, and Kate didn't need to worry about any of it.

  What Kate did need to worry about were the funerals set for the next day. Funerals that Kate hadn't thought about until now. Many of her beloved staff would be laid to rest and Kate simply couldn't miss the ceremonies. Some she would have to miss by default, because she couldn't be everywhere at once. Others, those she'd been close to for years, were necessary.

  Glancing at the beside clock, Kate discovered it was just past nine. She hadn't heard from Chayton since his earlier departure, and had gently declined dinner when someone brought a tray to her door. Disappointed that Chayton hadn't come for her, hadn't wanted to eat with her, Kate instead took a nap then got down to the business of calling her employees. Shelby had been the last, and the only one to mention the funerals.

  Kate decided she needed to speak to Chayton. With her mother's jet currently in use halfway around the world, she thought to ask Chayton to lease his instead. Barring that, if his jet was already in use, Kate would get on the first commercial flight she could find.

  Departing her suite, she took the stairs to the first floor, glancing left and right along the empty corridors. No one was in sight. She tried the formal sitting room, parlor and downstairs library.

  Nothing.

  Taking another hallway, moving slow to accommodate her sore muscles, she glanced through tall archways, looking for Chayton or one of his staff members. Someone would know where he was.

  “Lost, Miss?”

  Startled, Kate spun around, hand over her heart. She hadn't heard the middle aged gentleman who had somehow appeared right behind her, apparently as silent on his feet as Chayton.

  “Not lost, just searching for Chayton. Have you seen him?” Something about the man reminded Kate of Chayton. It was the lines of his face and the dark hair, although Chayton's didn't have the same fine strands of silver at the temples. This gentleman had Chayton's quiet intensity and the same lean physique. He looked her over, a casual but brief examination.

  “He's in his upstairs office on the phone. Can I help you with something? Kate, am I right?” He extended a leathery hand.

  Kate stepped forward and placed her hand in his. He was tall, perhaps six feet or so, with the same confident bearing as Chayton. “Yes, I'm Kate. You have me at a disadvantage, Mister...”

  “Black. Waya Black. Chayton's father.”

  “Oh, yes. I figured you must be a relative. You both look a lot alike.” Kate shook Waya's hand, detecting a few callouses on the skin of his palm. This was a man used to work, used to doing things for himself. “It's nice to meet you.”

  “And you. Care to walk? I'll keep you company for another few minutes until he finishes his phone call.” Waya gently extracted his hand, then offered Kate his elbow.

  Kate slipped her fingers up and under the crook of the elder Black's arm, focused on his profile as he turned her back the other way. “Thanks. Do you live nearby?”

  “Yes. His mother and I have an estate not far from here. I understand your recent troubles have finally come to an end.” Waya looked straight ahead, rather than aside at Kate until they reached the first juncture in the hall. Then he met her eyes, a smile touching the corners of his mouth, and led her down another corridor.

  “For the most part. My assistant just informed me that several of my employees—my former employees—are having their funerals tomorrow. I really need to be there.” Kate found it easy to be up front with Waya. She had the desire to confide in him, which was odd considering he was all but a stranger.

  “Then you should be.”

  “I need to tell Chayton, so he doesn't think I've up and gone.” Again, Kate thought, but didn't say. “And I need a favor. I need to see if I can lease your private plane. Either that, or I'll need someone to drop me off at the airport.”

  Silent for several seconds, Waya finally said, “Are you going to ask him to go with you?”

  “I hadn't thought about it, actually. I mean—it would be nice to have the support. I just...” Kate trailed. What could she say? That she wasn't sure C
hayton wanted to go with her?

  “You just?” Waya asked, pressing for more.

  Kate met his eyes, then looked down at the floor. She'd seen no judgement in the older man's gaze. “I don't know if he'll want to go.”

  “Why wouldn't he? You're married, are you not?”

  Heat crawled through Kate's cheeks. Had Chayton not told his father the circumstances? Or had he let his family think the same thing that he'd allowed his staff to think? “Well, yes. We are.”

  “Then he should want to be with you. It will be a tough day.”

  “Yes, it will.” Kate couldn't deny that. Although Waya's gait slowed further, and though he took a roundabout route back toward the staircase, Kate didn't mind. Taking the bit between her teeth, Kate said, “You're aware that our marriage is only one of convenience, yes? That he only married me because it was an act of kindness on his part.”

  Waya glanced sidelong. “I'm aware.”

  “I haven't exactly been the best 'bride', Mister Black--”

  “Waya, please.”

  “Waya. Even before Chayton suggested the wedding, I treated him a little callously. Left the protection he offered and almost got myself killed. Chayton mentioned taking me home earlier tonight, once I'd recovered and could face it. So I think...I think he's probably through with his end of the 'deal'.”

  The more Kate said, the more she thought it through, the more depressed she became. Leaving Chayton would be a lot harder than she first anticipated.

  “Do you mind?” Waya gestured to the french doors that led out to the garden.

  The same garden where she and Chayton exchanged fake vows.

  “No, of course not.” Kate accompanied Waya outside to a set of chairs and sectionals under the covered section of the porch. Little lights decorated ivy twining up around the posts supporting the patio roof and potted plants added a dash of color along with hedges and other greenery beyond the balcony. Night had fallen, leaving the landscape beyond the garden doused in shadow.

  After taking a seat on a sectional, Kate half turned her body to see Waya better as he sat down next to her. He moved almost as smoothly as Chayton, Kate noted. Perhaps not with quite as much ease as his son, but still an impressive amount of leonine grace. Waya patted her hand and met her eyes.

  “Do you want him to be done with his end of the deal?” Waya asked.

  Kate squirmed a little. “...No. I mean—well. No. I don't.”

  “I don't know every single detail, Kate, but I do know you two didn't start off like most couples do. He's aware that things might be awkward.”

  “But what about him mentioning taking me home?” Kate searched Waya's face. She found kindness beneath the sharper exterior.

  “Perhaps he's not sure how you feel, either.”

  “Maybe not. It hasn't come up because of everything else that happened. And to be honest, I'm not sure how to start that discussion.”

  “Sometimes things will come of their own accord if you don't force it. I think you'll know when the time is right.”

  Kate had the sudden, startling thought that Waya knew she was pregnant. Which was impossible. She darted a look at Waya's eyes, then out to the manicured hedges of the garden. “What if the time is never right?”

  “Then you were not meant to be together. You should seek an annulment now that your threat is gone and go about your life.”

  The thought made Kate's insides ache. She frowned, picking at the hem of her shirt.

  “But you don't seem to want to take that course of action,” Waya said.

  “No, I don't. I haven't given all of this a lot of thought either, but thinking about leaving here and never seeing Chayton again is painful. Unexpectedly so. Part of me still feels overjoyed to know that he's not dead. I spent a month thinking he was gone, and it was devastating. Not just because of what he's sacrificed for me, but his kindness, his thoughtfulness and his willingness to be at my side in the hospital when he could have just left me there.”

  “It sounds to me like your heart knows what's going on. Your mind just needs time to catch up.”

  “Do you really think so?” Kate met Waya's gaze. She saw compassion there. True compassion, as if he knew exactly how she felt.

  “I really think so. Listen to yourself. You don't want to leave, don't want the marriage of convenience to end. It will bring you pain to be away from him for the rest of your life. I think you're making your discoveries by talking them out.”

  Kate smiled. “Maybe you're right. Maybe being able to have a few minutes to actually consider it all made everything clearer. I came here with the thought that I wanted to see where things went with Chayton, so the initial spark to make more of all this was there to begin with.”

  “Your heart knows. Trust it. And don't be afraid to talk to him. Chayton can be closed off and quiet most of the time, but he's reasonable and he feels deeply. Even if he didn't feel the same, he wouldn't make a break painful for you. More than he had to, anyway.”

  “After the funerals, then I'll talk to him. I need to get through that first. Then I can think about my future.”

  Waya draped an arm around her and gave her a fatherly squeeze. “There's no rush, Kate. He'll still be there in a few days. Whether he goes with you or not, he'll be waiting.”

  “You sound sure. Did he say something to you?” Kate asked.

  “It's just the kind of man Chayton is.”

  “What kind of man is that, father?” Chayton stepped out the french doors, closing them with a soft click.

  Chapter Eighteen

  That's just the kind of man Chayton is. What had they been talking about? Chayton regarded Kate after her guilty twitch, then his father, who tipped his chin defiantly. He wasn't sure what he felt watching the two sitting conspiratorially close to each other, apparently new acquaintances with a lot to talk about.

  “A patient, understanding kind of man,” Waya said. He winked aside to Kate, then got to his feet.

  Kate winked back, twisting her hands in her lap.

  Chayton grunted, unsure what to think when his father reached down to give Kate a hug. When had his father suddenly decided to trust Kate? To embrace her figuratively and literally? Upstairs before the phone call, Chayton had filled his father in on the newest developments. Most of them, anyway. Certainly not every specific detail. Something must have changed Waya's point of view. Knowing Kate wasn't a fortune seeker had likely gone a long way to ease the elder Black's mind.

  Kate returned the hug, then returned to wringing her hands in her lap.

  Chayton said nothing for the clap to his shoulder Waya put there on his way inside.

  “I see you've met my father,” Chayton said to Kate. He stepped away from the door and casually leaned his shoulder against one of the support posts.

  “Yes. He's a very nice man, Chayton.”

  “He can be. He can also be abrupt and short tempered and stubborn. I hope he was none of those things with you.” Chayton would have a word with his father if so.

  “Actually, he helped me discover a few things that have eluded me for days.” Kate patted the cushion next to her that Waya had just vacated.

  Chayton hesitated. After a moment, he pushed off from his lean, crossed to the sectional, and sat next to Kate. “What would that be?”

  “Oh, this and that.”

  Chayton caught himself before he could frown. He wished they could be done with all the evasiveness and things that went unsaid. Even as he thought it, he chided himself for all the things he still wasn't saying. It wasn't just Kate. He was guilty as well.

  “I see. I'm glad you two had a good conversation, then.” Chayton took care to keep his expression and voice neutral.

  “It was nice to meet him while I was here.” Kate paused, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. “I have a favor to ask. Shelby, my assistant, informed me that several funerals for my employees are tomorrow and I'd like to go. I need to go. Is there any way I can lease your jet for the day? My mother's—min
e—is halfway around the world and can't get here in time.”

  Chayton watched Kate's face as she spoke. He resisted the urge to reach over and smooth his knuckles across her clear, pretty skin. “You're welcome to it. I believe it's here in Montana right now, so if no one else is using it, we'll make arrangements. When would you like to fly out? Tonight?”

  “Shelby said that Jones's funeral is at ten tomorrow morning, so perhaps tonight would be best, yes. If we leave in the morning, we might be pushing it for time.” Kate paused, then tongued her lower lip.

  Chayton's gaze dropped to her mouth, taking note of her trembling chin. She was upset all of a sudden and he knew the talk of funerals was the cause. It had probably all hit her at once, the reality of their deaths. Throwing caution to the wind, Chayton extended a hand along the back of the sectional and curled his fingers around her opposite shoulder. Drawing her in, he absorbed her weight when she leaned over and buried her face in her hands.

  “Shhh. I know it's hard,” he whispered into her hair. It smelled clean and a little like strawberries.

  “I can't believe they're gone. I talk about going to funerals but it all feels so surreal, like I'm talking about someone I don't know,” Kate said through her sobs. “And I'm afraid to go back to my mother's house. To my house.”

  “We'll go together, if you'd like me to come along. I know the investigation is finished but I'm not sure what state the house is in.” Chayton hated bringing it up, but he wanted to prepare Kate in case she walked in and saw blood on the floor. Or the walls. That, he knew, might send her into shock. It was one thing to hear about death and another to see the visceral proof in person.

  “Yes. Please come with me.”

  The vulnerability in Kate almost broke Chayton's heart. He'd seen her fiery and feisty and hell bent for leather. He'd been at her side when she came face to face with someone she suspected had a hand in her mother's murder, watched as she battled back from a serious accident. This Kate was less familiar but no less enchanting. He rubbed her arm and her side, providing comfort and security in the only way he knew how.