Kitty: Bride of Hawaii (American Mail-Order Bride 50)

by Janelle Daniels

  Her lips quirked at the sudden use of her last name. “Shall I call you Mr. Castle?”

  His voice lowered as he glanced out the door. “Absolutely not. And I insist on calling you Kitty when we won’t be overheard.”

  A gleam entered his chocolate eyes, and all thoughts vanished. He was too close. Her mind jumped back to the ship right after the storm when those same eyes held her captive a moment before they’d kissed.

  She cleared her throat, ripping her eyes away from his. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes.” He studied her as if trying to puzzle out her thoughts before swiveling toward his desk. “I wanted to see how you’re faring in the new house. Does it meet with your approval?” He gestured for her to take a seat.

  She sat on the opposite side of the massive piece of furniture, feeling more nervous as she settled into the butter-soft leather chair. “It’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived. The largest by far.”

  “I’m glad to hear it’ll suffice,” he teased, passing a glass paperweight between his hands.

  She returned his smile, but doubts crept in. “Warren, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  “Yes?”

  “You told me your mother lives here. If that’s true, why do you need me? Shouldn’t she take over hosting duties?”

  He set the figurine down with a crack. “It’s complicated, but let’s just say that she can’t accomplish what I’m looking for. I need someone else.”

  Confusion marred her brow. What did that mean? But with a scowl on his face, she wasn’t going to ask for an in-depth explanation. “All right. I merely thought of it and was curious.”

  He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. My mother is a sensitive topic.”

  She could see that. She mentally made a note about never bringing up his mother again. “I also wanted to thank you for sending the seamstress.”

  “I hope you got everything you needed.”

  She blushed. It was strange discussing such personal needs with a man who wasn’t her husband. “She was quite insistent about furnishing me with an entire wardrobe. Thank you.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing to thank me for. This is just another part of our arrangement. You’ll be mingling in high society and will need to dress the part. Because of that, it is a business expense. Nothing more.”

  “I understand. And I still thank you.”

  He smiled then. “You’re welcome.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes.” He sifted through the papers on his desk, locating one in particular before handing it to her.

  She scanned the list of names. “What’s this?”

  “That’s the list of guests who will be attending a picnic on the plantation in two weeks.”

  Her eyes darted back to the list of at least one hundred names. None of the names were familiar to her, but she knew they would be before too long. It was her job to find out everything she could about each person—to uncover their likes and dislikes, how they preferred their tea, and other such preferences.

  “I’ll need you to arrange it all. Think of this as our test run. These aren’t business associates, but they’re members of high society and, as such, will need to be impressed. No expense should be spared.”

  “Two weeks?” She didn’t wait for his nod. Her mind already swirled with possibilities. He wouldn’t be disappointed.

  She rose from her chair. “I’ll get started right away.”

  Warren stood, taking her hand in his. As heat filled her body from his touch, her eyes slowly met his.

  “Warren—”

  “No.” He shook his head, lifting her hand to his lips. “I know you said we can’t be together, but that doesn’t mean the attraction will go away. Too much has happened to go back to being strangers.”

  He was right. They could never go back. “That might be true, but we can’t continue on when there’s no future for us.”

  As if refuting her words, he lifted her hand higher, scorching her wrist with a warm brush of his lips across her pulse.

  “Don’t,” she breathed, but her denial lacked force.

  “Don’t what?” His lips skimmed her skin again. “That?”

  Her eyes half shuddered as sensations stormed her body. How could one touch, one tiny caress, affect her so strongly? “Yes. I can’t think when you do that.”

  His thumb swirled over the skin he’d kissed as if sealing it in. “And is that bad? I think you do too much thinking.”

  “I have to. If not, I’ll make a mistake.”

  “And I’d be a mistake.”

  She drew in a ragged breath when he pulled her arm toward him, inching her closer.

  The study’s door crashed open, jolting Kitty out of the haze Warren’s touch had created.

  An older, pinched-faced woman with the same chocolate eyes as Warren trailed in.

  Kitty straightened her worn clothes, a guilty flush cresting her cheeks. By the woman’s impeccable dress, Kitty knew she’d practically been caught in Warren’s arms by his own mother. Heavens, what a terrible first impression. There had to be something she could say to smooth it over.

  “So, I see it’s true.” His mother looked down her nose at Kitty before dismissing her and giving Warren her full attention. “You’ve brought your mistress home with you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Rage fueled Warren’s blood. He should have known his mother, the bane of his existence, would do something like this. He expected her displeasure about hiring Kitty, but to openly attack her while she was here…

  Kitty gasped at his mother’s barb.

  “Mother,” he gritted his teeth around the word, “I’d like to introduce Miss Catherine Jones, my new social secretary.”

  Fire lit in the deep brown depths of the aging woman’s eyes. “How dare you bring her here! How dare you hire someone else to fulfill a position that is already mine.”

  “You were in charge of entertaining when Father was alive. You are not my wife, and I have no need of your help. I’ve hired Miss Jones for the task.”

  Red mottled his mother’s cheeks. If only there was some way to get Kitty away before she exploded. But because his mother blocked the only exit, that was impossible.

  He cursed. It was his own fault, really. Attacking was right up his mother’s alley. Dramatic, confrontational, and inconvenient.

  His mother’s eyes sharpened on Kitty, but she didn’t flinch. “So, you think you can do the job better than me?” A brittle laugh escaped her lips. “You? A common nobody my son picked up on his travels.”

  Kitty’s chin raised. “I am not a common nobody, as you put it. I came here to marry Timothy Banner, but after his demise, I was left floundering. Your son stepped in and offered me a job. While kind, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m qualified to take on the task.”

  “Qualified? My dear, have you looked in the mirror lately? Those society women will tear you to pieces the first chance they get. Let me give you some advice, quit now. Ruin will befall you if you take this on.”

  “Enough.” Warren’s words were calm, deadly. “Miss Jones is my secretary. I suggest you get used to it. She will host all gatherings, entertain any guests, and assist me in any other social needs for Castle & Snow Industries. Accept it. Embrace it. With Miss Jones here, you are free to do as you will, as long as you stay out of the way.”

  His mother gasped before false tears filled her eyes.

  Disgust filled him. If he thought, for even a moment, that he’d hurt her feelings, he would take back his words. But he’d watched her his whole life. She used tears and emotion to manipulate people. It wouldn’t work this time.

  “Now, Mother, if you would excuse us, Miss Jones and I are finishing up a meeting. If you’d like to discuss this further, we can set an appointment where I can answer your concerns.”

  “This isn’t over.” Her eyes narrowed on Kitty. “Don’t get too comfortable.” She stomped away in a mass of black taffeta and slammed
the door shut.

  Warren scrubbed his eyes. What must Kitty think? She’d only just met his mother and was already exposed to her viperous comments. He should’ve warned her. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head softly. “There’s no need to apologize for another’s behavior.”

  He searched her eyes, seeing only compassion there. “You’re not upset?”

  “I’m angry over what she said. I can see she has a difficult personality, and now that I’ve met her, I understand much more why you’ve hired me.”

  He swallowed hard. She didn’t know the half of it. That little display had been just that. Little. His mother flew off the handle, ranting for hours, days even, over the smallest things. She was selfish, untrustworthy, and as much in control as a toddler. “I’m sorry you were exposed to such remarks, but I’m grateful you understand.”

  “You needn’t apologize for family. My own… well, let’s just say I don’t associate with them for a reason.”

  He wanted to pry. To get her to confide in him. He’d been waiting as patiently as possible for her to trust him. He needed to know why she pushed him away, why she was in Hawaii, and what had happened to her.

  As if realizing what she’d said, she cleared her throat and straightened her skirts in a flurry of action. “I shall get started on preparations for the picnic immediately.”

  “Good. I’d like an update once you’ve sorted out the particulars.”

  “Of course.”

  In reality, he needed no such thing. He trusted Kitty and her judgments already when it came to these events. No matter her experience, she’d handle planning the event much more capably than he could have.

  After Kitty exited the room, Warren felt a void as he sunk back into his desk chair.

  Why was it that the more he was around her, the more he wanted to be with her? Each time she left, every time he knew he’d have to wait to see her again, the ache worsened.

  He feared what he’d turn into if she left. He didn’t want to find out. For some reason, he needed Kitty in his life. Everything had changed once he’d seen her on the ship, and he had no desire to go back to the work-driven existence he’d led before meeting her, completely devoid of affection.

  She would plan the picnic, spend more time with him, and with any luck, he’d persuade her to become his wife sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  “You wanted to see me?”

  Warren set his pen down and pushed the ledger aside. He’d weighed the options of where to have this conversation with his mother. Seated behind his desk, a place of power, had been the top choice.

  “Yes. Please have a seat.”

  Gliding into the room, she placed herself rigidly on a chair opposite him. She folded her hands in her lap, her chin tilted up in challenge.

  Oh, she knew what was coming. He didn’t doubt that for a second. His mother knew he wouldn’t let her little episode earlier go unchecked. “You know why I asked you here?”

  She sniffed and turned wide eyes on his. “I haven’t a clue.”

  So, this was how it would be. He leaned back in his chair, exhausted already. “I want to discuss your behavior with my new employee.”

  “It was an honest mistake, Warren.”

  His mouth fell open. “An honest mistake to barge in here and accuse her of being my mistress? Just saying those words could ruin her. Miss Jones came here under honorable circumstances, as Timothy Banner’s fiancée. If he hadn’t died, she’d be married to him right now. While I’m sorry for Timothy’s death, I appreciate that I now have Miss Jones to help me. Her services are highly useful at this time.”

  Bitterness curled his mother’s mouth. “I take it you refer to her event-planning abilities?”

  “You know what’s at stake.”

  “Of course I do. Do you think I did nothing while your father was alive? Do you think I sat around all day, eating sweets and wasting time?”

  His face hardened. That’s exactly what she’d done, at least when she wasn’t off having affairs or other such activities. His father had paid for his mistake in marrying her his whole life. “I don’t know what activities you’ve engaged in in the past, nor is it any of my concern. You are free to do as you please, as you’ve always done.”

  “Then get rid of her.”

  “And why would I do that? As I’ve said, I need her.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t need her. You need me,” she lashed out. “She’s stepped into a role that is rightfully mine. I’m not your wife, but I’m your mother, the former mistress of this house. It’s my duty to plan parties and entertain your guests. You’ve deprived me of this right. I won’t stand for it.”

  Torn between anger and laughter, he asked, “You won’t stand for it? And what exactly do you think can be done about it?”

  Her eyes hardened. “I demand that you get rid of her. Marry her off to someone else. She didn’t know Banner at all. She won’t be picky. There must be several men here that’ll take her as a bride.”

  Another man would never touch her. Not as long as he lived. Kitty was his. His voice lowered to a dangerous degree. “She has already accepted the position. She is staying at the plantation; she will handle any and all social occasions that arise. Should I hear of any problems from you, I will take action.”

  He hated to be so blunt. He’d never threatened a woman in his life, but so help him, if she ruined what was between him and Kitty, he would make her suffer.

  “And what consequences would I face?” she threw back, her eyebrows raised in challenge.

  “If anything happens to Miss Jones, if you interfere in any of her plans, I will be forced to move you from this residence and deposit you in another location. A dowager home, if you will.”

  She jumped from her chair. “You wouldn’t dare. I’ve lived here longer than you’ve been alive.”

  He’d never been completely comfortable taking over everything once his father passed away, but the house was tied to the plantation, and he’d inherited it all. “And yet, I own the plantation.”

  “He should’ve never left it to you. It’s mine by right.” Her fist balled.

  He looked pitifully at the woman who’d borne him. He didn’t know why she was the way she was. Her parents had spoiled her rotten. She’d had the opportunity to marry in the highest circles of society, and yet she’d chosen to marry his father. Granted, his father had done and accomplished much in his life. But his money was self-made. There had to be something between them for her to choose him. Unfortunately, Warren would never learn the answer to that.

  “I agree with you. However, what’s done is done. All we can do is move forward. I do not wish to make you leave if it’s your desire to stay, but so help me, if you interfere with Miss Jones, your bags will be packed faster than you can blink.”

  Her lips pressed together as color rose in her cheeks. She wanted to rail at him, berate him. He could see it plainly on her face.

  After a moment, she breathed deeply. “Of course I shall abide by your wishes, Warren.”

  She bowed her head in obedience, but he wasn’t fooled. His mother had plans. What those were, he wasn’t sure, but they couldn’t be good.

  “I am pleased with your decision, Mother.”

  “If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to your work.” She didn’t wait for his answer before breezing out.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t say that confrontation went as well as he’d hoped, but it had gone as expected. Why couldn’t his mother make his life a little easier? With juggling the plantation’s future, keeping up on contracts, and waging a battle for Kitty’s hand, couldn’t his mother give him a break?

  He didn’t relish the thought of what would happen when his mother made her move. But he’d be ready.

  He was always ready.

  * * *

  He hadn’t seen Kitty in a week. He thought he’d go mad. He’d kept his distance from her, forcing himself to keep busy when she’d whisk
into the house at all hours of the day, planning, conferring.

  Kitty had already won over his staff, from what he could tell. No doubt they wanted to impress someone so free with compliments and affection.

  Kitty praised the cook so thoroughly one day, the woman had blushed to the roots of her hair.

  Warren wouldn’t mind some of Kitty’s attention. His patience paid off though. He received a note from Kitty about meeting him for lunch—something about testing the menu for the picnic—and he couldn’t have been more pleased.

  Canceling his afternoon meetings, he penned her a quick note of acceptance before searching out the servants who’d assist her this afternoon.

  Kitty might have planned for him to test the menu, but they wouldn’t be doing so at his house.

  He’d waited too long for Kitty to include him. He wouldn’t be satisfied with a short tasting.

  When Kitty arrived an hour later, his plans were in place.

  He swallowed his tongue as she entered the house. The sea-foam muslin dress, decked with swaths of lace and impossible rows of buttons, fit to perfection, showcasing her form in splendid light.

  Catching glimpses of her throughout the week, he’d seen what the seamstress had made for her, each confection clenching his gut. She was gorgeous, more graceful than any woman he’d ever met.

  Each day he’d gone mad not holding her, touching her, tasting her. His restraint wore thin, but he reined it in like a spirited stallion.

  A smile crested her lips at seeing him before she glanced at Makano. “Mr. Castle, thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you.”

  He grinned. If she only knew the variety of meetings he’d canceled. “It was no trouble. My afternoon is rather free today.” Now, anyway.

  “Excellent. I don’t plan on this taking too long—”

  “Oh, but I do.” At her frown, he gestured for Makano to hand her back her gloves and hat. “I was informed you’d arranged everything in the dining room.”