Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  Of course I’m nervous, especially with the murderous hatred I’d seen in Eric’s eyes, but I can’t hide forever, and I have to trust that he’ll be apprehended.

  It’s also time for me to get on with my newly successful career and the prospect of planning a future for me and my baby. Eric Brennan can kiss my ass if he thinks I’ll allow him enough control to dictate my life.

  And so can Vincent.

  “Dove.”

  “No. You either get with the program or back the hell off, Vincent Blake. I’ve allowed others to rule my actions too much of late, and I won’t do it anymore.”

  With that last warning I rise and walk away, leaving him staring after me broodingly.

  This is my time.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thanksgiving passed in a hectic flurry of activity and preparations that allowed me to avoid Vincent and my mother’s probing glares easily enough.

  I’d even managed to avoid saying goodbye to him the morning of his departure by convincing Jeffrey to ferry me into town on a last minute gift shopping expedition.

  Christmas morning, though, had been a trial as I’d been forced to accept Bee’s gift, even though I couldn’t bring myself to get her anything. It had brought tears to my eyes and cracked my stony heart when she’d torn back the wrapping to reveal a print of the Sunflowers she’d been searching for.

  It was perfect, right down to the exact shading.

  It had taken every power of self-control I possessed not to break down and fling myself at her, but I couldn’t do it. For Bee to finally pull herself together and accept responsibility for the mess she’s made, she needs to suffer a little.

  Plus, I’m still a little pissed at her.

  So I’d thanked her stonily and retreated to my bedroom while everyone else went on to breakfast. Now, as I sit in the confines of Jeff’s luxury jet, making my way back to the city that is in my blood, I feel a sense of fearful excitement and a not too small amount of fear.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? Stay with me for a few weeks. Just till we’ve caught Brennan,” Jeff begs, his deep blue eyes pleading with me. “I won’t impose any restrictions on you other than to ask that you let my security guy shadow you. Please, Sis, I won’t be able to sleep a wink knowing you’re alone with that asshole on the loose.”

  I sigh heavily, acknowledging the fear that had been plaguing me since we’d taken off. Sure, I’d made that big speech to Vincent and then to my parents about not allowing Eric’s specter to rule the rest of my life, but I am all too human, and as the jet nears the city I have to admit that I am terrified of living alone. I still have nightmares about Eric creeping into my apartment while I sleep.

  I could take the risk with my life, but not now, not when my child’s life depends on my continued survival.

  “I-I think I’d be okay with that. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’m still a little shaky about his disappearance, and the thought of waking up with that madman in my apartment… Don’t tell Daddy?”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief when he nods and pulls me into his chest, his strong heartbeat and the heat of his arms erasing the panic that’s bubbling beneath the surface.

  Amazingly, since Vincent left, Jeff and I had spent enough time together that we’re now more friends than anything else. I’ve come to know him so much better than the controlling brother and autocrat that Bee had described.

  Underneath all that fire and bluster lies a sweet man still recovering from a broken heart and the pressures of running a multimillion dollar empire.

  “I wish I could have fallen for you before I met that harlot,” he sighs for the millionth time, stroking the hair back off my forehead as I snuggle closer.

  “You don’t think that would be weird? You’re like a big brother to me,” I laugh.

  “Yeah, but my offer still stands if you decide not to tell Blake about the baby. I’d be good to you and the kid.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not right, for either of us. I want a man who’ll love me completely, and you, you deserve a grand love. I refuse to let you settle for companionship, and furthermore, I will not stop harassing you if you continue to lock yourself away, only accepting one night stands with those gold digging hussies you’ve been doing. Seriously, Jeff, you’re better than that.”

  “Jesus, why did I ever think being your friend would be easy?”

  “I dunno. You have been drinking more lately,” I giggle, scowling mockingly when he tweaks my hair.

  “Only to get through Christmas without wringing Bianca’s neck.”

  Yeah, you and me both, buddy. I’d been determined not to spill the beans on Bee, for obvious reasons, but Jeff had noticed my freeze out attitude and harangued me mercilessly till I’d finally blurted it all out to him.

  Let’s just say that she’s lucky she’s his baby sister, or I really believe Jeff would have killed her for her stupidity.

  “You’re going to have to forgive her eventually, you know. I’m just waiting for her to regrow her spine before I let her back in. I suspect that won’t be too long in the making, if Justin has anything to say about it.”

  He snorts and presses a swift kiss to my hair.

  “More power to your brother. I just hope she can be sensible enough to fall for the guy and isn’t just using him as a crutch to get over this shit. I’d hate to see his heart get broken. Bianca is spoiled, Sis, and I hate to say it, but if she doesn’t love him there’s no way a city girl like her will be content as a rancher’s wife.”

  That’s my fear too, but I don’t say anything as the pilot activates the seatbelt light and we start our descent.

  “At the very least, you staying with me should drive Blake crazy,” he laughs suddenly, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “I don’t play games like that, Jeff,” I say, but I’m laughing too at the thought of the look on Vincent’s face if he should ever see us together.

  The man is just too much. He’s called me every night since the day he returned to New York and kept up a steady stream of communication despite my lackluster responses and my outright rudeness at times. What can I say? Pregnancy hormones coupled with my still-simmering bitterness over that stick insect model make for a real doozy of a grudge.

  “You won’t get anywhere with a guy like him if you don’t play your cards right, Sis. Trust me, I should know: I’m one of those controlling types. The only way to get a man like Blake to take you seriously is to play him at his own game. I’m in if you are,” he urges, wiggling his brows. “We can be the next hot couple. Just think, Sis, you’d have someone on your arm at all those exhibitions Vern’s scheduled, and you can rub it in his face.”

  I suspect Jeff also wants to rub it in Julia’s face—his ex is a huge force in the art world—but I refrain from pointing it out and shrug instead, enjoying his mischief and seriously considering his words. Maybe showing Vincent that he’s not the only fish in our small pond isn’t such a bad idea.

  I have to tell him soon, I know, but there’s no law against using his own tactics to stir up his well-ordered existence.

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  I can’t believe how many people have turned up for my first official showing. The gallery is packed to the rafters and so abuzz with positive reviews that I feel a glow of accomplishment settle deep within me.

  People actually like my work, are paying obscene prices to acquire it and have gone so far as to ask for first option when I complete my next series. I don’t know what has suddenly changed to make a once overlooked artist this popular, but I absolutely refuse to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  For once in my life, everything’s going right. I have enough money coming in to consider paying the obscene rent on the apartment my father has gotten me—still as yet unoccupied—and I can afford the baby.

  If I feel unsettled and somewhat guilty about my avoidance of the baby’s father the last three weeks, well, I’m consoling myself with the excuse that he de
serves it.

  “Congratulations on your success.”

  Every nerve ending in me stills as that husky voice washes over me, and I feel my heart skip a beat before it starts racing. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, fighting the urge to throw myself at him and blather my every thought and emotion.

  God, is it possible that I’ve missed the oaf this much?

  Steeling myself against the overwhelming rush of lust I know I’ll feel when I turn, I take a deep breath and face Vincent, almost swallowing my tongue when I see a blonde goddess hanging from his arm.

  “I believe you remember Clara?”

  To say that I feel like a volcanic eruption about to level the city is an understatement! Of course I remember Clara. I’m not likely to forget her giggling helpfulness that day at the museum when I’d tumbled over that rack and made a complete ass of myself.

  I want to hate the woman, really I do, but it’s way too hard when she grabs my hand and pumps it enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

  “Well, God help me, of course she remembers me. We women have to stick together and all that.”

  Ah, how could I forget that cultured accent and her glowing youth? She can’t be older than twenty or twenty-one, now that I’m taking the time to look at her properly, and now I just feel like a gross old hag. Which makes me so mad at him I can hardly swallow past the bile lining my throat.

  “Thanks,” I manage to grit out between my teeth, feeling my cheeks ache at the force of my smile. “And of course I remember you. I’m not likely to forget your help, especially when Mr Manners here couldn’t wait to get the heck outta dodge when he’d seen my panties. It’s good to finally meet you,” I say, rescuing my poor arm from her shaking by pulling away with a gentle smile. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Oh, obvious! Mummy heard that there was a hot new artist showing tonight and she demanded I cross the pond to come see. I’ve already made a purchase of that wonderful oak tree. Mummy’s going to bloody love it!”

  I nod, not knowing quite how to respond while steadfastly avoiding Vincent’s probing stare, when I feel a pair of arms wrap around me from behind.

  “There you are, sweet thing. Oh, Blake. Hey, man.”

  I wince and roll my eyes subtly, fighting a smile as Jeff throws an arm around me and starts laying it on thick. He’s not lying outright or even claiming me, but his body language is just comfortable enough that Vincent can’t fail to notice that we’re here together.

  I watch as they shake hands, Jeff smiling so broadly I worry his face is going to crack, and Vincent—well, I recognize that mask of fury as his eyes shutter and lose all expression.

  “Parker, good to see you. How is the family?”

  I’m left to make small talk with Clara while the two of them square off, pretending to give a damn what the other has to say. When a polite few minutes pass I excuse myself, throwing them both a withering glare, and go in search of Vern, ready to get this night over with so I can crawl into bed and go into a coma.

  “God, girl, you’re a hit. I told you so!”

  Really? I must have dreamed the months’ worth of soul crushing criticism you’ve been dishing like a feeder, I think, raising a brow.

  “Is this almost over? I’m tired,” I say, watching a blonde and her sugar daddy walk out, waving a purchase receipt like invading conquerors.

  “Yeah. Everything sold, and I have a few requests for anything that you bring me, so I think we’re good. Just stragglers and the hangers on left now. Go home and get some rest so you can start working bright and early,” he trills, making me curl my lip as he twirls and skips away.

  As I glance around I spot Vincent prowling my way, a hard and altogether frightening expression on his handsome face. Don’t judge too harshly when I admit that instead of standing my ground and facing him as I know I should have done weeks ago, I turn tail and run, melting into the crowd still milling about, and using the cover to find Jeff and drag him outside.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding only when we’re safely in his car and on the way back to his apartment.

  “You ready to tell me what’s got you so fired up?” he asks when we stop outside the building and he hands me out, his eyes scanning the street around us before he relaxes and ushers me inside.

  “What the heck did you say to him? He came my way looking like an avenging angel!”

  “Nothing, Sis! We spoke about the stock market and Brennan before he got a call. I excused myself and came looking for you,” he mutters, leading me into his penthouse with a growl of frustration when I pull away and stalk toward the refrigerator.

  “That’s it?” I ask, pouring us both some juice and kicking my shoes off to plonk onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

  “That’s it. He either knows we’re living together, or he got some bad news. Come on, Sis, you knew you had to confront him sooner or later.”

  “I know,” I say miserably, drawing circles around the rim of my glass to distract myself.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I…I guess I just hoped that I’d be over him and that model by now. And then to see him there with another woman…”

  “Whoa! You think he’s seeing that chick? No, Sis, they’re not together. I saw her talking to another guy who showed up late. They got real hot and heavy, and Vincent wasn’t even fazed. Definitely not together. Trust me on this.”

  That news eases the tight band around my heart, and I feel a little easier, though not totally mollified.

  “Well, you can’t argue about the model,” I point out, slugging a huge drink of juice to quench my thirst.

  “No,” he says, smiling so widely I narrow my eyes. “But I doubt they got between the sheets.”

  “Oh, and why is that?”

  “Because, dearest Sissy, I had one of my guys look into it, and that model was dropped at home the minute the cameras stopped flashing. Blake never touched her.”

  “But…”

  I stop talking and think about that night at the pool and the way Vincent had spoken. Never once had he admitted to having sex with the woman, only…he’d used sly innuendo and his clever deflection tactics to make my mind go onto a path that—

  “Goooood! He’s so frustrating. Why can’t he just—”

  “Because he’s a man, Sis. A man who is used to control and getting what he wants, on his own terms. And I suspect he’s in somewhat of a quandary now that he’s fallen for you,” he points out gently, shaking his head with a scowl. “We men, we aren’t too quick on the uptake. By the time we’ve realized what asses we’ve been, well, it’s usually too late to salvage the situation.”

  This doesn’t make me feel any better, because the Vincent I know is ten times more stubborn than the usual man.

  “What… I don’t know what to do.”

  He toasts me with his empty glass and winks wickedly, giving me his megawatt smile.

  “We play him at his own game.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  “Stop touching my ass!” I hiss at Jeff, swatting inconspicuously at his hand while we wait in line to get into Cavanaughs’ mansion for the fundraising benefit he’s dragging me to.

  “Stop being such a prude, Sis. How else are we supposed to make Blake jealous? He’s not going to respond to anything if we walk around like goddamn brother and sister,” he hisses back, running a hand over the curve of my ass before giving it a hard squeeze and settling his palm right where I don’t want it.

  How the heck am I supposed to tell my only guy friend that I’ve been having hot dreams lately, some of which star him as well… What? Don’t judge, it’s hard to stay on track when the only caring guy in my life is sleeping right next door to me.

  “You’re such an ass. This isn’t even gonna work.”

  I’ve had a lot of time to think about things in the last two days, and I’ve decided that Jeff is wrong. No way in hell does Vincent love me. I mean, the guy hasn’t so much as called me since that night at the exhibitio
n.

  Does that seem like a guy who is gaga for a girl? I think not. So I’ve decided that the only thing left to do is to just tell him my little secret and go from there.

  Hopefully by the time I work up enough courage something positive will have happened with the Eric situation, and I can start availing myself of that gorgeous apartment Daddy has gotten me.

  But first…

  “If that hand strays any farther, you’re losing it, Parker.”

  I feel him shake behind me and realize he’s laughing his ass off at my predicament. He’s determined to carry out this ‘player plan’ he has going for me, and if I publicly denounce him I won’t only alert the shark to my availability, something I’m not willing to do, but I’ll also cause a huge scene in the midst of a very exclusive set that has decided that I am currently the hot shit in the art world.

  Go figure my budding success would bite me in the ass.

  “Ah, Mr Parker, so good to see you this evening, sir,” the tall blonde hostess trills from her little podium at the top of the steps.

  “Hi, Gail. Mrs Cavanaugh has you working the crowds, I see.”

  They flirt a little, and I clench my back teeth so as not to spit a curse at the obviously single and ready for action woman. Can’t she see he’s not available? I mutter to myself, feeling like the third wheel on the bicycle. And anyway, he can’t flirt with another woman, not when I’ve totally decided to set him up with his ex, Julia Gustav, and see where things go.

  If I have to watch him go nuclear, or even worse, silent every time a Julia Jenkins fitness commercial comes on, I’m gonna scream. The guy is so obviously still crazy for the woman, and I can’t see why he can’t let the past go and take her back.

  With my mission firmly resolved, I pinch his hip brutally and smile sweetly at Gail, showing her enough teeth to scare a shark.

  “We’re holding up the line.”

  With that I drag him up the remaining steps and into the grand mansion, my mood so dark I hardly notice the décor or the art. Seriously, how the heck am I supposed to get through a night of groping and smug grins if the guy insists on getting his player card punched wherever we go?