Chain of Title

  Sean’s jealous streak was deeper than she had realized, and now she understood it was about so much more than just Frank himself. It was about time lost. Time spent with another man creating the rich history, the bond, borne of a lasting relationship. All of the things she and Sean had yet to experience but someday would—she hoped.

  She loved him. Sometimes desperately so.

  She outlined his square jaw as he continued his slow, shallow strokes, her fire growing hotter, climbing higher.

  “Say it,” he growled. Her expression pinched in question. He took a couple of breaths. “Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, just say it,” he demanded gruffly.

  Shayna swallowed, lazily licked her lips and slowly dropped her lids, opening them to his hard, emotion-fraught eyes. She breathed in and out a couple of times and strung together words the best she could in her foggy state of drunken desire. “I’ve never,” she inhaled sharply at his deeper thrust, “wanted another man as much as I want you,” she whispered breathily, in a trailing moan. She could’ve sworn at that moment he swelled larger inside her.

  His strong hand gripped the nape of her neck possessively, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “And you never will,” he vowed huskily, claiming her mouth as he drove into the deepest part of her—where pleasure and pain merge into something deliciously sweet and sublime. She whimpered and groaned as he began pistoning into her like a madman, her nails clawing down his back and digging into his ass, urging him deeper still, and he delivered.

  Sean Parker always did.

  CHAPTER 21

  She was going to kill him. Absolutely. Kill. Him.

  Shayna angrily punched in the code at the gate. What do you know? It hadn’t changed in three years. Apparently, a lot hadn’t changed. The massive iron bars ground open, widening a path at a snail’s pace that Shayna furiously sped through the moment her Jag could squeeze through. She raced straight for the executive estate at the end of the cul-de-sac on Copper Hill Court, in the private estate community of Larkspur. The dense, tree-lined streets with the hidden mansions beyond were a blur.

  Swerving recklessly, tires squealing, Shayna whipped onto the paved driveway of her former home, bringing her car to a screeching halt under the porte-cochère. Reaching over to the passenger seat, she grabbed her purse and a folder. Making a quick exit from her car, she saw James, the butler, already standing at attention on the porch ready to greet her. She stomped up the steps toward him.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Chastain,” he remarked in the pretentious tone that Frank had always been so fond of.

  “Montgomery,” she spat out, as she pushed past him into the over-sized mudroom, leaving him blustering before he quickly chased behind her. “I was told he’s working from home today. Is he in his office, James?” she asked coolly, as she stormed through the expansive kitchen that would make any chef drool with envy. The kitchen staff watched nonplussed as James pursued Shayna out of their domain.

  “Mr. Chastain did not advise me that he was expecting any visitors today.”

  “I’ve become a big fan of the element of surprise, James.” she remarked bitterly.

  Then she stopped so abruptly that James almost couldn’t prevent himself from colliding against her back. She turned deliberately with a smirk marring her creamy complexion. Her steely gray eyes stared into his black ones.

  “Tell me, James. Did Mr. Chastain advise you in advance when his whores were stopping by?” He winced and then hardened like stone. “Or did the two of you have some special man code for that?” she hissed. Shayna had never liked James Clarke. During her marriage, she had always felt an undercurrent that told her that James’ loyalty was to Frank—and Frank alone. The day she had walked in on Frank and Brittany, James had been out of town for a funeral. The man rarely took time off, and she was convinced that he had been running interference for Frank and his infidelities prior to that infamous day. Turning on her heel, she headed for Frank’s office.

  “You can’t go in there, Ms. Montgomery. I need to check and make sure that he can see you now.” His cool demeanor was cracking, his voice rising at his loss of control over the situation.

  “Oh, he can see me now, James. But feel free to run ahead of me like the groveling little sycophant you are and warn him that his pissed off ex-wife is here to kick his—”

  Just then, Frank stepped into the corridor. “What the hell’s going on out here—” He stopped suddenly and his head snapped back in shock when he saw Shayna standing there, her chest heaving in anger, her face flushed with it.

  “I am very sorry, Mr. Chastain. She just barged in here, not giving me the chance to see—”

  Shayna’s head whipped around to face James. “A big strong man like you couldn’t stop little old me?” She snorted mockingly, and then glanced back to Frank. “It may be time for you to get a new guard dog, Frank. This one’s clearly past his prime.”

  James stifled an indignant grunt.

  Frank threw his hands up resignedly and motioned to the butler. “It’s all right, James. Just leave us.”

  Shayna cocked a brow and glanced sideways at the frustrated man next to her. “Told you so...Jimmy,” she teased with a sneer. Indignation rolled in palpable waves off James. With some reluctance, he pivoted crisply and made his way back down the wide, art-laden hallway.

  For a few moments, Frank and Shayna stood in place, sizing one another up. She could see in his face and body language that he was adjusting to her presence in his house again. It certainly felt to her like she had traveled back in time. Probably it did to him, too.

  Breathing out calmly, she said, “I certainly hope I’m not interrupting anything, Frank, but if I am,” she shrugged, “oh, well—I don’t give a damn.” She thrust her chin up at him and defiantly crossed her arms underneath her chest with a huff.

  He swallowed slowly as his eyes admiringly raked up and down her length. Then his melancholy eyes finally came to rest on hers. “What are you doing here, Shay?” he asked with a wobble in his voice, not the usual steady command she had become accustomed to over the years.

  “It seems that you’ve been a bad boy, Frank. Unless the top notch law firm you hired handed over our divorce file to a summer intern,” she hissed.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  Shayna moved closer and stabbed his chest with the file. “Take a look, Frank, and do your best to look surprised.”

  He glanced down at the file and then back to Shayna, taking the manila folder in his hand as she released it. He perched his reading glasses on his nose and began skimming the first page, then flipped through the others before turning, without looking up, and walked back into his office. He waited just inside the door for Shayna to join him before closing and discretely locking it behind him.

  As he sat behind his desk, perusing the paperwork in more detail, he sighed, rubbed at his eyes and pulled off his glasses, dropping them onto the open file and scattered documents. Propping his elbows on the heavy mahogany desk, he tented his hands and stared reflectively up at the hostile woman standing before him.

  “A park. I had no idea,” he said quietly.

  “There won’t be any park until the chain of title is cleared.” She stared down hard into his eyes. “Why wasn’t a mortgage release filed on my acreage, Frank? I saw the surveyors do the staked survey myself. I know that legal description is accurate, but there’s still a lien on it. Why?” He sat silently. “I find it difficult to believe your high-priced legal team overlooked this major detail. Either you take care of this now, or there will be a lawsuit,” she warned, punching her finger on his desk. She huffed at his lack of words and blank expression. “Do you really want to pay more legal fees, Frank?”

  He looked up at her wistfully, as if only a shell of a man was left of the one she’d once been married to. “I didn’t want to pay them in the first place,” he said, in a low monotone voice.

  Shayna dropped into the leather seat nearest to her
and stared disbelievingly across the massive desk at her ex-husband. Something seemed different about him. The energy, vitality, and command that had always made him seem bigger than life was missing, drained away, leaving him looking smaller, vulnerable.

  Like a dog scenting the air, Shayna’s wheels started spinning and the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. “What’s going on, Frank? Is it the business?” She caught the faintest hint of a flinch that someone who hadn’t lived with him and loved him for over two decades would surely have missed.

  She collapsed back against the chair. “Oh, my God, you purposely didn’t notify the bank. It would’ve required a review of the entire loan, refinancing, and all that messy paperwork that might raise red flags about...what? Your solvency?”

  She could tell from his stiff body language that she was on the right track. The words Sean spoke weeks earlier at the barbecue came back to her in stereo.

  “You didn’t think I’d do anything with that land. At least not, right away. You thought you’d have time later to fix this without me ever finding out. Of course, at some point I would’ve noticed that I wasn’t getting the tax bills for that property.” Shayna released a long, labored breath. “And now all I have is a worthless quitclaim deed—and potential liability.” Shayna closed her eyes and dropped her head, exhaling in frustration.

  “I can’t believe you’re really here,” he whispered roughly.

  Shayna slowly lifted and leveled her eyes with Frank’s. A shiver darted up her back. His hard focus unnerved and unsettled her.

  “Things must be bad for you to pull a stunt like this, Frank. What’s going on?”

  He sighed loudly and reclined in his executive chair, assessing Shayna guardedly. “Some of it’s bad investments. There’s also a lot of unoccupied office space, although that dive seems to be correcting itself.” He chuckled mockingly. “Because we’re leasing it below the profit margin,” he said harshly. “Then there are the contractors and their subs not finishing work on time for all kinds of inexplicable reasons,” he looked pointedly at Shayna, “and then the loans being called on those same properties.” He paused and wet his lips. “Someone—or some group—keeps coming in and pulling those same properties out from under me.” He gauged Shayna cautiously. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” he asked, cocking his head and narrowing his intense blue eyes.

  Shayna felt the hair rise on her skin. “You can’t really be serious. You think I’m involved? Why would I do that?” Shayna shook her head incredulously.

  “Maybe you’re not involved, not directly...just cozy with the person who is. Providing information unwittingly...or not,” Frank accused icily.

  Shayna’s chest tightened at the allegation. “I would never do that, Frank. I have no interest in seeing you fail, nor have I ever wished that you would. I can’t believe you’re implying that Sean has anything to do with this, either. He wouldn’t have the time or resources to do what you’re insinuating.”

  Frank smirked, fingers steepled and pressed against his lips, as he assessed his former wife. “Oh, lover boy’s involved. I just haven’t connected all of the dots yet—but I will. You can count on it,” he said, with steely determination.

  Shayna swallowed as a chill swept over her body. How could Sean possibly pull off what Frank was suggesting? After Sean’s comments at Jack’s, not to mention his warnings to her about things getting rocky, she had worried what it all meant, but she never suspected anything of this magnitude. He wouldn’t have the time or the money. Frank and Sean simply played in different arenas at vastly different levels. Not to mention, when he wasn’t at Gaetano’s he was with her, determined to fill all of her free time. He had even been delegating an increasing amount of responsibility to Johan, spending less and less time at the restaurant and much more with her. He had become a man possessed, obsessed with making up for lost time.

  Then Frank’s anguished voice interrupted her introspection. “You were the love of my life, Shay.” Their eyes locked on to one another, and Shayna’s breath hitched at the raw emotion exuding from him. “It never mattered to me that I wasn’t yours. I always knew I got you by default,” he whispered solemnly.

  Then his hand swept in a grand gesture across the files and papers strewn across his desktop. “None of this means anything. I could lose it all,” he inhaled deeply and then released a stuttered exhalation, shaking his head as visions from the past seemed to play out in front of him, “and it would never compare to losing you.”

  He pushed up from his seat, appearing no longer able to look at her, and turned to the picturesque view of the private golf course in the distance, hands sliding into his pockets. The room was silent for a few moments.

  “Do you love him, Shay?” he asked in a pained tone. “More than you loved me?”

  Shayna swallowed with difficulty, her mouth like cotton, heart tattooing her chest. She didn’t want to have this conversation—couldn’t have it. She fell involuntarily mute, feeling as if she was in a dream. The kind where you want, need, to scream and can’t. She shook her head, clearing away the heavy emotion threatening to smother her.

  “How do you plan to resolve the issue with my land, Frank?” she said, speaking quickly in a wavering voice, hoping she sounded steadier than she felt. That’s when she noticed it.

  Her picture positioned prominently on his desk.

  Her brow furrowed. Why would he still have that out? She began glancing around the room and her heart dropped to her stomach. He still had all of their pictures hanging on the wall—a lifetime of smiles, laughs, embraces and travels—a happy couple in a happier time. It looked like a shrine. The sudden impact jolted her. He really hadn’t expected her to go through with the divorce. He had really believed they would work it out. That she would be back.

  That she would forgive him.

  He remained quiet, eyes fixed in the distance. “Answer me, Shay. Do. You. Love. Him,” he demanded through clenched teeth. His tone was hard and uncompromising.

  That was it. The spell broken, Shayna stood to leave. This had been a mistake—a huge one. In her fury, after finding out about the legal issues with her parcel, she had failed to think this part through. She should’ve called him to discuss it or asked to meet in public.

  Before she had even covered half the distance to the door, Frank’s strong hands were on her, pulling her back, forcing and pressing her tightly against a wall with his body. Her heart accelerated and her breathing came in hot, short bursts as she worked to calm herself. The predatory gleam in his eyes and the heat from his erection, boldly pressed against her belly, triggered warning bells and a sense of near panic.

  Pressing her palms hard against his chest, Shayna looked him directly in the eyes. “Step away, Frank. You’re hurting me.” His eyes darkened and a chilling grin lifted one corner of his mouth slightly. His proximity, masculine scent, and cologne swirled around her, pulling her further back in time.

  “I saw the way you looked at me when we were at Jack’s. When are you going to stop punishing me, Shay? Huh?” he asked in an agitated tone. “Haven’t I paid enough yet? Watching you with him. Seeing his hands on you. Picturing...” he trailed off, closing his eyes and sighing. He tilted her chin up toward him. “You still love me. That means there’s still hope. Enough is enough, Shay. I’m done playing this game with you.” His thumb swept across her trembling lips.

  Swallowing and desperately trying to organize her thoughts, Shayna did her best to speak with a calm measure. “I love the memories, Frank. That’s what you saw—nothing more. Don’t confuse it. Don’t turn it into something it’s not.”

  She could hear and feel his hot, ragged breath on her skin. He seemed to be considering her words, then his hands unexpectedly circled her wrists, wrenching her arms down hard and wedging them between the wall and her body. One large hand firmly shackled her wrists, while the other glided smoothly up her bare arm, stroked her throat, and then firmly grasped her chin.

  “I am
the memories,” he said in a low menacing tone. “Don’t ever forget it.” He stared unapologetically into her eyes, and then softened his grip on her chin and stroked the side of her face, while his eyes outlined her features. “I was a fool to let this go on for so long. I should’ve done this a long time ago—made you face reality—made you face me!”

  Shayna felt a rush of panic squeeze her, but before she could speak, reason with him, his mouth clamped down on hers, devouring her and stealing her breath with the sheer force of his body and overwhelming emotion. She struggled hard against his kiss and strength, but he only held her tighter, becoming more emboldened, more aggressive. Her shoulders ached from the angle with which he was yanking her arms behind her, and her fingers tingled on the verge of numbness from his punishing grip around her wrists. Fighting him wasn’t working, and the situation was only getting worse by the second. Somehow, she had to relax and override her instincts to struggle, to fight. She needed him to hear her.

  When he came up for air, breathing heavily, he whispered roughly, against her ear, “We’re not finished. I’ve paid for what I did. You’ve punished me long enough.”

  He repositioned his face in front of hers, his eyes softening around the edges. “I think about you every goddamn day—and night, when you should be next to me in our bed.” Then his eyes hardened again. “Me! Not him!”

  “Frank, you’re really hurting me,” Shayna choked out, unable to suppress the fear in her voice. It was clear from his expression that he wasn’t listening.

  He gripped her face hard, the anger and regret clearly consuming him. “She meant nothing to me. Nothing! You mean everything.” Shayna’s tongue darted out to wet her lips and his eyes followed then lingered on her kiss swollen lips.

  “I will never forgive myself for hurting you. It’s my biggest regret,” he admitted sorrowfully. His thumb swept across her bottom lip and he pressed his forehead to hers.

  Shayna’s breathing was deep and ragged from still trying to calm her frantic nerves. Then her body stiffened and her mind froze as his hand traveled over her breast, cupping and squeezing, before winding its way along her waist and around to her backside. She squirmed against his touch and felt tears stinging at the back of her eyes.