Baby Bequest

by Robyn Grady

  Her attention remained on the blur of cards. “You’ve been playing solitaire, haven’t you? That was your favorite. They have that game on software, you know. You can install it on your laptop. You don’t need to play the old-fashioned way.”

  He swept aside a wave curling around her cheek. “I prefer the old-fashioned way.”

  Her hands stopped moving. Through her white T and fine lacy bra, her nipples visibly tightened. All those years ago, he’d lovingly caressed them. Once, only once, he’d run his tongue around their peaks, grazed his teeth over their ripened swell. Lord have mercy, he could feel their warmth pressed against him now.

  “Times have changed.” Her voice was uneven, a little breathless. “Don’t you think it’s only right that we try to change, too?”

  This time she let him take the cards and set them on the tabletop. “I don’t work that way. How about you?”

  Would you like to play, Jenna? The way we used to…Even if it’s just once…

  He leant forward, inviting her to read the intention in his eyes…to sense how strong that intention was.

  Her expression softened, even as her blue eyes grew darker, hotter. Her lips parted and she silently drew down some air. His gaze lingered on her mouth while his surroundings receded and the magnetic field urging them nearer wound up another sizzling degree. He tipped closer, ready to speak.

  Ready to kiss…

  Two palms met his chest, blocking his advance. “You said you wouldn’t take advantage of the situation.”

  The high-voltage buzz zipping through his veins screeched then fell suddenly quiet. He pulled away, focusing on her words. “If that’s what I’m doing—taking advantage of you—I apologize. But, Jenna, we really ought to talk about—”

  “You want to talk?”

  When her lips twitched with skepticism, Gage blinked twice then set his jaw. “After the week we’ve spent together, the way we’ve reconnected, I thought you might want to hear what I have to say.”

  Her gaze flicked over his face. Her expression eased, and for an instant her heart seemed to show in her eyes.

  She slowly nodded. “Go on.”

  He bunched his hands to keep from bringing her near and instead laid an arm behind her over the settee. She didn’t move away.

  “Like anyone else, I have regrets. I’ve thought about you, Jenna—about us—a lot over the years.”

  “It’s surprising that you found time to make your fortune.”

  He saw the flash of regret on her face over the barb, but she didn’t take it back.

  He conceded. “Guess I deserve that.”

  “Maybe. I really don’t know anymore. I suppose it depends on what you say next.”

  The strength Gage so admired radiated out, and he caught himself. But he could only be truthful about how he felt. About what he could offer and what he could not.

  He wanted to be with her, for her to share his bed, to know each other at last. “I want us to go back and claim what was denied us years ago.” By age and class structure, by Leeann and his own shortcomings. “I’m asking if you want to finally live out that experience too.”

  He paused to find the words that would bind their feelings of the last few days rather than unravel them. He was committed in their efforts regarding Meg; he would be there for her in all things, the very best way he knew how. The thorn in the side of that commitment?

  Making love with Jenna and helping her with Meg couldn’t transform him into something he was not. He’d been born to be exactly what he was—nothing less, nothing more. For everyone’s sake, he needed to remember that.

  Against his better judgment, once he’d tried the traditional way. It had ended in the worst kind of disaster.

  Rule number one: learn from your mistakes.

  He was about to speak when Jenna tipped forward and set her forehead in her hands. Gage shunted closer and his hand lowered from the back of the settee to settle on the warm curve of her back. Oh, hell.

  “Jenna…?”

  She shook her head fiercely. “I can’t do this. I want to, God help me, but I can’t.”

  His heartbeat stopped before thudding harder against his ribs. Her words were muffled but he’d heard her well enough.

  “I understand now why you left,” she went on, “but it still hurt. Gage, it hurt almost as much as anything I’ve ever had to face.”

  Anything she’d had to face? Like the accident.

  Christ.

  Like losing her mother.

  His hand came away.

  “I can’t risk that again,” she ground out. “Not when Meg is relying on me. You said it yourself. If we acted on…” She groaned softly and her voice lowered. “On what we’re feeling now, it would only complicate matters. The very last thing I want is more complications. I don’t need to be hurt again, especially now.”

  Gage’s fist dropped onto the settee with a soft thud.

  He’d arrived on his white charger, decked out in shining armor, promising to rescue her. Determined not to hurt her. His goal had been to make her happy. Set things right. Release the ghosts then get on with their lives.

  Yet here he was, putting tears back in her eyes. She might still be attracted to him, but she didn’t want to take that next critical step. More to the point, she didn’t want him to either.

  Which meant hands off.

  Get over it.

  Move the hell on.

  As she pushed to her feet, her knees in their fashionably tatty jeans bumped the coffee table. The cards, balanced on the timber’s edge, fell, spilling over the marble floor.

  She kept her eyes on her track shoes. “Which is my room?”

  Finding his feet, and his center—the solitary place he always fell back upon—he gestured toward the gold-handled double doors to their right.

  “Are my belongings in there?” she asked.

  He’d had the bellhop bring her case straight up. He nodded. “Yes.”

  She hugged herself, a gesture conveying a need for distance. “Then, if you don’t mind, it’s been a long day. I’d like to take a shower.”

  He blew out a breath.

  Make it a cold one and that’s not a bad idea.

  Forty minutes later Jenna emerged from her private suite, her hair damp, her creamy skin fresh and radiant. Dressed in a tank top and a pair of faded sweats, the years seemed to melt away. She didn’t look a day over twenty.

  Decked out in a crisp tuxedo, Gage came in from the balcony and unhooked her surprise, which he’d hung earlier on a curtain rod.

  Her expression opened—more disbelief than wonder. She stopped fluffing her hair with the towel. Those pink-polished toes edged another step closer. “What’s that?”

  “An evening gown.”

  The dress rustled as he laid it over his arm and moved forward to present it.

  “We have seats waiting at an exclusive special event,” he told her. “We’re going out.”

  Six

  “Mate, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  Amidst a room full of tinkling crystal and clinking silverware, Gage slid Nick Farraday a look.

  His friend, and second-in-charge in Sydney, pulled in his chin and put up both palms. “I take that back. Your personal life has always been just that—personal. Let me say, though, I feel privileged to be one of the first to meet your bride-to-be.” His boyish smile curved upwards. “Jenna and my fiancée seem to have hit it off.”

  Nick tipped his head toward the ladies who sat, deep in conversation, at the romantically lit table. Tonight’s event had been organized to raise funds for cancer research. Seating was intimate. Numbers restricted. Only the wealthiest or most influential in New South Wales had been invited.

  The band’s swing tune was subdued and pleasant. On a generous square of timber flooring, set beneath silver moonbeam lights, several couples swayed cheek-to-cheek. Which seemed like a rather good idea.

  Earlier Jenna had made herself clear. No sex. No way. However, she hadn’t rul
ed out dancing, which, aside from soothing his wound, would also add another convincing touch to their happy-couple front.

  Forcing his gaze away from the delicate curve of Jenna’s jaw, Gage focused on the advice he’d given as they’d entered the building’s foyer this evening.

  If we’re to succeed, we must pretend to everyone. No exceptions.

  “Jenna and I were meant to be,” he told Nick with a sincere smile. “We realized it when we met again after I flew in to pay my respects.”

  The younger man leant closer and lowered his voice more. “What a tragedy. Her sister, the brother-in-law and her father.” Elbow on the chair’s arm, he positioned a hand near his mouth and murmured, “Guess there’s no need for us to pursue Darley Realty. Your marriage will square that one away. Not that I’m suggesting this engagement has anything to do with that.”

  About to reply, Gage was interrupted by Nick’s fiancée, Summer Reynold. “I’m so excited for you both. Jenna will look like a princess on your wedding day.”

  She looked like a princess tonight.

  The woman he’d spoken with earlier today had said the gown was an original from a Brazilian designer’s collection. The sleeveless silk bodice was jewel-encrusted, the pleated chiffon skirt falling from high on the waist. In the exclusive boutique’s window, the gown appeared to be an ideal fit—long and busty. Guessing Jenna’s shoe size, he’d told the assistant to include matching heels. Both had arrived unexpectedly after Jenna had gone to shower.

  The gown hadn’t been meant for any specific occasion, however, given this afternoon’s awkward interaction, it had seemed wise to avoid confined spaces. Hence the last-minute decision to make use of the tickets he’d arranged for months back and join Nick and Summer this evening.

  “I mentioned to Summer that our wedding will be a private ceremony,” Jenna explained, her eyes reflecting the lilac folds of the gown. “Not too many guests.”

  Gage picked up the thread and carried it through. “There’ll be just the celebrant, Jenna, myself and two witnesses.”

  Summer’s hand found Nick’s on the white tablecloth. “Well, if you’re stuck for those two witnesses and we can help…”

  Gage smiled. He couldn’t be happier for Nick—Summer was a gem. An attractive woman, intelligent and apparently thoughtful. He understood why his friend was so clearly hooked.

  He and Nick had met at a convention on the Gold Coast six years ago. Gage had hired him a week later, and Nick had proven many times since then that loyalty was his middle name. On top of that, he and Nick were on the same wavelength, always saw the same picture, big or small, perhaps because they’d both started out with nothing. If Gage had envisaged a brother, Nick would have been him.

  Gage poured ice water into Jenna’s glass then his own. “As a matter of fact, I would be honored for Nick to be my best man.”

  Nick’s face broke into a wide smile. He stuck out his hand and Gage happily accepted. “With bells on, mate.” His grin turned curious. “Want me to arrange for a bachelor’s evening?”

  “Girls jumping out of cakes and a bawdy night on the town?” Gage grinned back. “You know that’s not my style.”

  Nick raised his glass in salute. “Just checking.”

  Jenna seemed to freeze for a moment before turning toward Summer. “And I’d love for you to be my maid of honor.”

  Gage’s chest squeezed. Jenna would be thinking of Amy—of how much she’d want her twin by her side on her wedding day, particularly given the reason for this marriage. But who could say that Amy wouldn’t be there? Love, and belief, were said to be powerful things.

  Summer beamed, took hold of Jenna’s hands and drew her up as she pushed to her feet as well. “I’ll make sure you look beyond beautiful.” They moved off toward the powder room, Summer explaining to Jenna, “I’ve never been a bridesmaid before. None of my friends are married yet, and I don’t have any sisters…”

  While Gage kept his eyes glued on Jenna’s profile, waiting for her reaction to Summer’s last comment, Nick picked up on his train of thought.

  “Don’t worry, mate. Knowing Summer, she brought up family to give Jenna a chance to mention the accident…or not. She won’t push.” He exhaled audibly and sat back. “One thing…Jenna’s fortunate to have you to look after her father’s business now.”

  Gage sucked air between his teeth. “Jenna wasn’t bequeathed Darley Realty.”

  Nick’s forehead creased before a look of comprehension dawned. “Darley’s widow?” Gage nodded and Nick’s palm slapped the table. “With mixed families, it can go either way.”

  Gage flexed his brows. “It went all the way with Leeann Darley.”

  “Will Jenna contest the will?”

  Gage gave a considered reply. “Not that aspect.”

  “Well, from the way you look at her, I doubt she’ll want for a thing, now or any time in the future.”

  While Nick sipped his wine and focused on the band, tapping his free hand to the tune, Gage wondered. He’d told Jenna the connection they shared was palpable, but did the tug he felt toward Jenna show that much?

  He would never enjoy that depth of feeling with anyone else. These past days that enjoyment had grown to such an extent that the sizzle of his early twenties glowed like a kid’s birthday candle compared to the twenty-story blaze he’d recently endured.

  Of course, now she’d held up the stop sign, and he had to douse the flames. Not easy, but doable.

  He downed three parts of his water.

  Definitely doable.

  Nick turned to him. “Guess I can come clean now, but I never thought I’d see you married. I know you’ve dated,” his eyebrows jumped, “some real beauties, if you don’t mind me saying. But you never commented on any of them, and now I know why. Your heart was already taken. Just goes to show. I never pegged you for a romantic.”

  Gage felt the smile of satisfaction move across his face then shook himself.

  Hell, he was believing his own publicity! Yes, Jenna had held a place in his heart no other woman could hope to fill, but that didn’t mean he was meant for marriage and a family of his own, not long term, anyway. Whether or not he wished it were different, he was a loner, of necessity living life by his terms and no one else’s. When a man married he had to compromise, give up a part of himself. Good luck if he could do that. But Gage knew himself too well. If he tried to pretend to either Jenna or himself that this coming marriage was anything other than pragmatic, someone would get hurt. Again. The whole idea of them being together was to make up for a wrong, not slip up and make matters worse.

  Baby Meg could steal anyone’s heart. And she deserved someone who could give his heart right back.

  Nick swiveled more toward Gage. “I know this probably isn’t the time, but did you get in contact with James today? He’s been on my case all afternoon.”

  Gage smothered a twinge of guilt. He’d known James, his right-hand man in Melbourne, had been trying to track him down. He’d turned off his cell phone but there’d been messages left on his hotel extension, on the fax, his email. He hadn’t listened to or returned any calls these past days unless they were related to Jenna’s situation. Not usual practice. In fact, highly unusual. And unacceptable. He mightn’t have had a vacation in too long to remember, but that was no excuse. People relied on him to give 110 percent.

  “I’ll check in with James tomorrow,” he said.

  “Just so you know…our Emirates business deal has hit the fan.”

  Gage’s fingers bunched up the tablecloth.

  Not possible. “Everything was set.”

  “Apparently not. I’ll let James explain, but he mentioned if you want to keep the deal, you’ll need to fly to Dubai ASAP and stay there until the negotiations with the government are settled and stamped.”

  Gage’s mind zeroed in on possible problems and solutions to the billion-dollar hotel contract he’d spent two years putting together. He would jump on his jet first thing tomorrow and—


  Laughter caught his ear and jerked that thought clear from his head. The ladies swept back over to the table, chatting like old friends. Gage’s fist, and the bunched cloth, relaxed.

  Jenna needed friends, people to connect with. And if she and Summer got along, there was every reason to believe they would continue the relationship after…

  Well, after he and Jenna had reached their goal and Meg was where, and with whom, she belonged. Where Jenna belonged too. Finally home.

  Before Jenna could sit, Gage thought of Dubai, of the limited time they had, and pushed back his chair.

  On his feet, he claimed her hand and began to move off. “We should dance.”

  She pulled back her weight. “Dessert’s just arrived.” A tilt of her chin indicated the uniformed waiter delivering passion-fruit cheesecake and chocolate torte drizzled with raspberry coulee.

  He circled her waist and ushered her away. “Dessert can wait.”

  Jenna quivered from her head down to her new high heels as Gage took her in his arms and, beneath a shower of smoky light, drew her near.

  His left hand rested against the dip in her back. Her mouth went dry when his thumb circled the silky fabric inches above her behind—then stopped. But there was still the smell of him…the raw and tangible heat. The entire package did sinfully sweet things to every dimension of her body. Though he kept his eyes straight ahead, she knew he felt it too.

  Question was: after this afternoon’s confrontation, could she trust him not to act on it?

  His thumb rubbed—stopped again—and Jenna trembled.

  Lord, oh, Lord, think of something else.

  “Nick’s lovely,” she blurted out. “I’d imagined a Jerry Maguire type but he’s more a Sir Galahad. And Summer’s so friendly.”

  “I’m glad you two get along well.”

  His chin grazed her temple as he spoke. Clearly he’d used a razor before donning that tux—which happened to fit his body like a Hollywood dream—yet already the shadow and rasp of his beard was evident…and very sexy.

  Jenna closed her eyes.

  How she yearned for a blank slate to give her peace. Instead pictures of his perfect forearm, from when she’d caught him earlier that day, swam in her mind. Another image followed of the coarse hair below the hollow of his throat. Today, directly after Gage’s admission, how dearly she’d wanted to reach out and rub those crisp strands against his hot, tanned skin. She almost had.