Protecting His Brother’s Babies

by Katie Knight

  She started to open her mouth and he winced, holding up a hand. “No. You were right at the hospital. I’m sorry. Those aren’t my babies and you and I aren’t—” He gestured between them. “Well, you know. Anyway, I can’t give you what you need. And I’m sorry about that, but that’s probably why we never should’ve gotten involved in the first place.”

  Hearing him say that, even though she’d been thinking the same earlier, hurt like a knife in her chest. She swallowed around the tightness in her throat and narrowed her gaze on him. “You regret sleeping with me.”

  It wasn’t a question, but he was quick to answer anyway. “What? No. Hell no. I don’t regret any of the time we’ve spent together, Lake. Truth is, I’ve loved every minute of it.” Those words should have made her feel better, but instead they only made the ache inside her worse. She’d loved spending time with him too. Loved him, period, even if she shouldn’t. Drake took a deep breath, then walked over to sit beside her on the bed, not touching her at all, his hands clasped between his knees. “Lake, you’re a wonderful woman. Fun, kind, generous. Dedicated to your job and to helping others. You love astronomy almost as much as I do.” At her snort, he amended, “Okay fine, just as much as I do.” He hung his head and gave a sad little laugh. “I wish we could’ve spent more time watching the stars together. If things were different, you’re exactly the type of person I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. But our lives are too complicated now for either of us to even think about a relationship.”

  Lake considered his words, wanted to argue with them, but couldn’t. He was right. She knew that deep inside, even if she hated it. She fiddled with the duvet and asked, “So, what now?”

  Drake cleared his throat and straightened, clapping his hands on his thighs. “So, we keep looking into this fiasco my brother created until we find out what really happened and why he was killed, then we make sure the people involved are brought to justice. We put them away for a long time to make sure you and the babies are safe, then we both get back to our normal lives.”

  “And us?” Her breath hitched a little, the corner of her eye twitching. “What do we do about this?”

  She’d moved her stuff into the master bedroom with his, but that wouldn’t work if they weren’t sleeping together anymore. The king-sized mattress was big enough to fit four comfortably, but it would be too weird sleeping together without sleeping together.

  Drake pushed to his feet and walked to the closet to grab his duffle bag. “You stay in here, I’ll move to the guest room.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said, standing too, then placing a hand on her side where the sore muscles pulled. Drake noticed, because of course he did, then pointed at the bed. She sat back down, her shoulders slumping. She was tired. More tired than she could ever remembering being, and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep for days—but not alone. Still, she couldn’t ask Drake to stay now, not after everything that had happened and what he’d just said. “You were here first. This whole place belongs to you. I should move back into the guest room.”

  “Hell. No.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, just continued to shove clothes into his bag without appearing to care that they were getting wrinkled. “You’re dealing with enough. You deserve the big bed and the luxury bathroom. I’m used to cots and pit toilet latrines. Just having indoor plumbing is like being at the Ritz for me.”

  Despite the crappy situation, Lake couldn’t help laughing. “I wish I’d met you first, before Devon.”

  He met her gaze, his own filled with heat and affection. “Me too.”

  They stared at each other across the span of a few feet, an ocean of yearning between them.

  Finally, Drake looked away again as he emptied the dresser drawers of his socks and undies. “But things are what they are, and we need to make the best of them.” Finished, he zipped up his duffle bag the slung it over his shoulder to head out the door. Halfway into the hall, he stopped and looked back at her. “We okay here?”

  Lake nodded, feeling very not okay inside, but hiding it well. She’d had years of practice. “We’re good.” She even forced a smile for his benefit. “See you in the morning.”

  “Night,” Drake said. “Sleep tight.”

  The door closed behind him and Lake lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how in the world things had gone from lovely to lonely so fast.

  Seventeen

  “Mr. Bexler. It’s great to hear from you,” Drake said the next morning in the office. The prospective buyer he’d met at the gala had called first thing today. Always a positive sign of interest. Drake was eager to move Shepperton, Inc. off his plate, that was true, but he didn’t want to lose his tactical advantage in negotiating too soon, so he played innocent. Maybe he’d learned more from his family about being a businessman than he’d given himself credit for. “What can I do for you today?”

  “What you can do is sell me your company,” the older man said, his Texas drawl as pronounced as it had been the previous evening. “You seemed amenable to an offer when we talked last night.”

  “Hmm.” Drake sat back in his seat, doing his best to keep his mind on the conversation at hand and not the attack that had happened with Lake in the parking lot. Each time he remembered the gala, the horror he’d felt in those awful moments pushed everything else aside. The abject fear of being too late, of being helpless. The searing adrenaline as he’d rushed to save her, overpowering everything he knew about combat and disarming your adversaries. The need to protect the woman he loved at all costs. His chest squeezed tight at the memory of their talk in the bedroom. Those words had been the hardest he’d ever had to say, telling Lake that they needed to end their tryst. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath, but sometimes wanting wasn’t enough. Ending the affair was the right decision—but that didn’t mean his body was on board with it. Now, each time he closed his eyes, he’d swear he could still feel her there, could still smell her sweet floral perfume, could still taste her on his lips when he licked them.

  Hell, she seemed to be closer to him now that he’d let her go than she’d ever been before when they were sleeping together, if that were possible.

  Just my luck. The ghost of her will haunt me for eternity.

  “Mr. Shepperton?” Bexler asked over the phone line, his tone concerned. “You still there?”

  “Yes. Sorry,” Drake said, straightening. Forcing his head back into the game and out of fantasies and fairy tales that could never be reality. He’d made his choice regarding Lake, and now he had to deal with it and move on with his life. And to accomplish that, he needed to deal with selling the company. Bexler was the best prospect he had so far, so why not him? Drake would need more information, of course. Financials and a formally drawn-up offer for him and the attorneys to go over, but that could come after a meeting between the two of them to hash out the details. “What’s your schedule look like? Can we set up a time to discuss this further, face-to-face, when we’ve got some hard numbers at hand?”

  “I’d like that,” Bexler said, then suggested times from his calendar. “Unfortunately, I’m headed out of town today and won’t be back until the end of next week. How about that Friday afternoon?”

  “Sounds good.” Drake pulled up his own calendar on his laptop and added in the time that they quickly agreed on. “See you then, Mr. Bexler.”

  After ending the call, he checked through his emails and saw a message from Jameson about an update. Rather than type out a response, Drake decided some exercise might do him good and headed downstairs himself to find out what it had been uncovered. He found Jameson in his office, mulling over more stacks of paperwork and files.

  Drake knocked, then entered and closed the door behind him. “Thought I’d come down myself.”

  “Right,” Jameson said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Mr. Shepperton. I did some digging into Carrie Bartlett, as you asked, and your hunches were right. She did
get instructions from your brother, Devon.” He shuffled through some files, then pulled one out to hand to Drake. “From what I can ascertain, there was a money laundering operation taking place through the Shepperton Foundation. Not of money from Shepperton, Inc., but funds from other sources. It looks like Devon tried to funnel the money into shell companies which he framed as charitable organizations. Following all of those money trails would be akin to going down a rabbit hole. It would take weeks, and might just lead in circles. So, since time is of the essence in our situation, instead, I scrutinized the data I had immediate access to—Shepperton Foundation’s incoming donations. Specifically, the ones that came in since your brother changed the foundation’s policy on accepting outside donations.”

  “We didn’t used to accept outside donations?” Drake asked.

  “No. Since the foundation is an arm of Shepperton, Inc., the money has always come directly from the company’s surplus revenue. Honestly, accepting outside donations is highly irregular for a company-affiliated charitable foundation, but your brother was able to convince the board that it was the right decision.”

  “So you think all of these donations are connected to the laundering scheme?”

  Jameson shook his head. “I’m sure they’re not. There’s no better place to hide dirty money than in a pile of clean money. I’d imagine most of the donations are perfectly legitimate—but I was able to pull a list of the ones that Devon handled personally.”

  “Him handling the donation personally is a red flag?”

  “A sizeable one,” Jameson agreed. “He was generally happy to leave those details to the foundation staff. These are the names I found.”

  He passed a piece of paper over to Drake. On it were written the names of five local Dallas companies. Drake scowled. He wanted to have this cleared up before he talked to Bexler, and a week and a half wasn’t a lot of time. “Okay. So, we need to speak with all these CEOs, then?”

  “Interestingly, sir, you don’t,” Jameson said. “My research showed there’s a common thread connecting all of them. Dowd & Associates. That law firm represents all of these companies.”

  “Damn.” Drake blinked at the older accountant, his lips parting. Maybe they were finally getting somewhere on this after all. “Good. Let’s make sure we have all of our documentation in order before we approach our legal counsel with this. I want them armed with everything to begin a full investigation into this mess.” He stood and handed the file back to Jameson. “Thanks for all your hard work on this.”

  “Anytime, sir,” the older accountant said. “I’ll make up formal reports now.”

  Eighteen

  Back in his office, Drake made the call he’d been putting off for a while. After Lake had turned up, telling him that she suspected his brother had been murdered, he’d thought dealing with the matter himself would save time. But now, after the meeting with Jameson and learning the names of the bigwigs involved, it was time to call in reinforcements.

  One of the many advantages to being a SEAL was the network of people you met on the job. After retiring, a lot of former team members went on to either work in law enforcement or form their own private security businesses. With their specialized knowledge of weapons and strategy, it was a good fit. Today though, knowing how deep this cover-up could run and the high-dollar amounts they were dealing with, he decided to go past the police and his buddies in private security and head straight for the FBI.

  A longtime friend and former teammate worked for the local office in Dallas. After looking his number up online, Drake dialed, then sat back in office chair while the call rang through.

  His friend answered on the second ring. “Agent Foster.”

  “Randy?” Drake said, hearing the Boston accent that brought back memories from being out on the battlefield with the guy. “It’s Drake Shepperton.”

  “Drake?” Foster chuckled. “Where the hell are you? The SEALs kick you out already?”

  “Nah. I’m here in Dallas, dealing with a death in the family.”

  “Oh.” His friend sobered up. “Of course—I’m sorry. I heard about that in the news; I just didn’t make the connection. My condolences.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Drake sat forward and exhaled slowly. “Listen, I was hoping you could help me out with something.”

  “Sure. Anything for a teammate. Hang on.” Foster put his hand over the mouthpiece and said something to someone, then came back to Drake. “Sorry. Busy day here today. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, my brother ran the family business, and since I’m the only Shepperton left, it’s up to me to figure out what to do with it now. I’ve been acting as CEO since I got back, and I’ve come across some things in the company’s accounts that appear…troubling.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then went on to tell Foster about what he’d found and the possible money laundering taking place through the Shepperton Foundation. “I would’ve contacted you sooner, but things have been nuts lately.”

  “I get it, man.” Agent Foster sighed. “And wow. That’s a lot of suspicious activity you got there. Have you contacted the police?”

  “Not about the laundering. I didn’t want to start a stink until I knew for sure that there was something there. In the meantime, I was trying to deal with it myself.”

  “Same old Shepperton,” Foster said with a snort. “You always were a lone wolf. Always had to be in control. Should’ve guessed you were related to the most ruthless business family in Texas. Funny how you never mentioned that to your fellow SEALs.”

  Drake hung his head. He didn’t like secrets any more than he liked being compared to his rotten family, but Foster did have a point. He did like being the one in control. “Look, I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to be treated differently. I’m not like the rest of my family. All they ever cared about was getting ahead and getting as much money as they could. Whoever got in the way of that got kicked aside or trampled.” His gut clenched when an image of Lake flashed into his head. She was the last victim of Devon’s machinations, but thanks to the twins, she’d carry the reminders with her for the rest of her life. He so wished he could have been the one to make things better for her. He missed her so much his chest ached with it, but he’d told her the truth. Things couldn’t work between them. Not if he wanted to keep her safe. “Anyway, I need this mess cleaned up before I can sell Shepperton Inc. and I’d like your help to do that. Are you in?”

  “Well, I’d like to help, Drake. But money laundering falls under the jurisdiction of the Treasury Department. If you want, I can pass you over to—”

  “No.” The word came out harsher than he’d intended. “I want the fewest people involved in this as possible. At least until I know exactly who’s involved and how deep the corruption goes. If you can’t help me, I’ll keep dealing with it myself.”

  Foster exhaled slowly. “Officially, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “What about unofficially?”

  A deep chuckle issued over the phone line. “Unofficially, I’ll look into it when I can. What are those names again?”

  He read them off, then set the reports aside. “If you can check the companies out and let me know what you find—any fines, indictments, rumors of wrongdoing—I’d appreciated it. I owe you one, buddy.”

  “Yes, you do,” Foster said. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

  Drake laughed again. It was kind of a running joke between them about favors owed. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be in touch when I know something. This number secure?”

  “Yep.” Drake thanked his friend again and ended the call. Okay. One problem tackled. Next, he needed to get with Lake about all this too. He’d put off seeing her as long as he could today, even though he could hear her bumping around in her office next door. Time to man up and get it over with.

  He took a deep breath and stood, grabbing the reports from the desktop and heading for the door as an old SEAL motto rattled through his head. He’d heard it mil
lions of times over the past few years, but it had never hit quite so close to home as it did now.

  The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday.

  And wasn’t that the truth. Every day with Lake up until yesterday had been easy. Or at least easier. Then he’d gone and fallen in love with her. Despite his wishes and intentions to the contrary. And now things were awkward as ass between them because of him and his speech in the bedroom last night. Dammit.

  He should’ve kept his hands to himself and his heart out of it, but where Lake was concerned that hadn’t been an option. She’d stormed his defenses and broken through all his barriers. Drake halted on the threshold of his office, the muted sounds of Lake’s voice as she spoke with someone on the phone in her office echoing into the hallway. His ribcage constricted, seizing the air in his lungs. If things were different, if he were different, maybe they’d have had a chance. As it was, once this was over, there’d be nothing left between them but goodbye.

  A few weeks ago, that would have made him feel happy. Now, it made him feel anything but.

  The knock on her office door made Lake glance up from her computer screen. “Yes?”

  Drake poked his head around the door and her heart sank. Her first instinct was to get up and walk over to him, throw her arms around him and kiss him silly. Except things weren’t like that between them anymore. He’d told her in no uncertain terms their affair was over, and the sooner she accepted that and moved on, the better.

  She gave him what she hoped was her most professional smile. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shepperton?”

  His expression tightened slightly at her use of the formal title, but he quickly covered it. He walked into her office and shut the door behind him, then handed her a sheet of paper. “I met with Jameson earlier and he gave me this.”