Читать книгу The Billionaire’s Fake Engagement / Man from Stallion Country: The Billionaire’s Fake Engagement / Man from Stallion Country - Robyn Grady, Annette Broadrick - Страница 14

After returning to work for a couple of hours, she and Alex spent the night together. The next morning Natalie headed home.

Not that she liked referring to Constance Plains in those terms. But she’d grown up there, had built her first dreams there. Constance Plains was where her mother lived and where a piece of Natalie’s heart would always remain. Going back was hard, but also somehow cathartic.

In a strange, sad way, going home was sacred.

On the final isolated stretch of highway, zipping past the landscape of scattered gums and kangaroo grass, she selected a favourite CD. But even cranked up urban couldn’t drown out the concerns that had tumbled through her mind since the weekend’s astounding run of events.

Her gaze drifted to her left hand holding the wheel. The setting was dazzling, any girl’s dream engagement ring, a cushion-cut single white diamond of who knew how many carats. Alex had been so persuasive about her wearing it. In hindsight she’d never stood a chance of refusing him. His reserves of sex appeal and charm exceeded any man she’d met or was ever likely to meet in the future.

Truth was she was attached to Alexander, hopelessly drawn to his intensity, as much as air was sucked into a fire or rain was absorbed by the sea. More and more he consumed her, but he also made her feel…connected.

As a smile touched her lips, a ray of morning sun caught the rock and the diamond flashed, shooting a stab of light back from the steering wheel. Squinting, Natalie shielded her eyes at the same time a truck roared up out of nowhere, its monster horn blasting as it passed.

Instinctively she yanked the wheel. The car swerved, fishtailing and skidding to the shoulder of the road. Foot to the floor on the brake, she pictured her heart hammering in her chest as every speck of mortal strength rushed down her rubbery legs and the car jolted to a stop. Dumping a head-tingling breath, she dropped her forehead on the wheel.

Remarkably she didn’t think about her near collision. She could think only of the incredible moment Alex had slipped that ring on her finger.

Alex cared for her. He sincerely wanted her to be the mother of his children. But he didn’t know anything about her. Didn’t know she could never give him a legitimate heir. On top of that, his marriage proposal had a side agenda: publicly recanting the engagement might do his dealings with Mr. Zhang more harm than good.

Then again, she’d had a side agenda, too—a baby who might someday, in some measure, look upon her as a mother.

Dragging her brow off the wheel, she studied the stone on her third finger again. Today May Wilder would learn that her daughter had agreed to marry, and that her fiancé hadn’t the faintest idea about her past.

Was she leaving it too late to pull out?

Releasing a shaky breath, she rolled her tense shoulders and swung back onto the highway. Thirty minutes later her Rav 4 veered into her mother’s drive, on either side of which sat a sagging chain mail fence.

May must’ve heard the engine. By the time Natalie walked from the cracked cement drive to the house, May was standing on the porch, wiping her hands on a red-striped tea towel.

A heartfelt smile lighting her face, her mother flipped the towel over her shoulder and extended her arms. Relishing the comforting warmth, Natalie burrowed her face in her mother’s shoulder, wishing her father were here, too.

After a long moment, May pulled back, her grey eyes glistening with unbridled love and pride. “You look so well, Tallie.”

Natalie smiled. “So do you.”

But in truth her mother’s hair looked frizzy and her shoulders were slightly stooped. In her mother’s eyes Natalie recognized again what she’d seen last visit. She was lonely. When her father died, she’d asked May to come live with her but she’d stoutly refused. This is where her life with Jack had been, May had said. She wouldn’t leave, no matter what.

Now with her usual brave face, May linked an arm through her daughter’s and swung open the screen door. “I put a roast on for lunch. The potatoes are browning.”

Natalie stepped into the tidy living room. Fresh snapdragons fanned from a vase on the TV, the same washed out landscape paintings hung on the wall. The surroundings were reassuring yet unsettling, too.

Memories in every corner.

Bringing herself back, Natalie nodded. “A roast sounds great.” Smelled great, too.

“Was it an easy drive from Sydney?”

“A breeze,” Natalie fibbed as May crossed to flick on the air-cooler and she sank onto the couch.

“I have your room ready in case you’d like to stay over.”

“Sorry. Can’t. Work tomorrow.”

“Well, the invitation’s always there.”

Crossing back, her mother’s gaze landed on her daughter’s hand, on the ring, and she hesitated before folding down beside her. Natalie had purposely kept the ring on so she couldn’t back out of confessing. But now her stomach looped in guilty knots. She was not looking forward to this talk. It reminded her of a past conversation, only this time she wasn’t the girl who’d got in trouble.

Smoothing down her skirt, Natalie siphoned in a steadying breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“About Alexander Ramirez?”

Natalie’s brows hitched. “The story made the local paper?”

May’s smile was wry. “We do get the city paper way out here in the sticks.”

“As far as I remember, you weren’t interested in either.”

“My neighbors are.”

“Of course. I should’ve seen the smoke signals spreading the news when I drove in.”

Despite Natalie’s sarcasm, her mother smiled and held her hand. “He looks very handsome.”

“He’s…” Natalie swallowed the word nice, then decent. They didn’t seem to fit.

“He’s very good to me.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“He’s what’s known as a venture capitalist. They invest in other people’s ideas.”

“There was a small write-up about that, too.”

Natalie nodded, stalling, trying to find the right words. Her mother wouldn’t bring up the other information contained in that article, the claim that another woman was pregnant with Alexander’s baby.

May Wilder would stick by her daughter under any and every circumstance, but Natalie couldn’t bear to think about the added stares and whispers her mother would endure from this town’s population after this. Whispers about that Wilder girl getting herself into strife again.

Natalie rearranged her hands in her lap.

“You know it’s not certain that Alexander’s the father of that child,” she finally said, and her mother blinked several times.

“Oh? The reporter seemed sure.”

Natalie huffed. The reporter was a slimeball.

“Alex has a friend, a doctor, who says paternity can be determined quickly.”

May tipped closer. “I want you to remember, this isn’t your fault. You wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if you’d known.”

At a twinge of shame, Natalie dropped her eyes. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

But how could she explain? How would it sound?

I am wearing a man’s ring when he knows nothing about my past, that I can’t bear his children. I know I have to tell him and when I do that will be the end. But I can’t help thinking about that baby, about giving her the love I wasn’t able to give my own.

Natalie’s nose stung at the threat of tears at the same time May’s arms wrapped around her.

Her mother didn’t speak for the longest time, but when she did it was in a supportive tone that tugged at Tallie’s heart. “You don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to.”

She clamped her burning eyes shut. Her mother didn’t understand. Natalie wasn’t sure she understood.

Her mother’s voice lowered more. “Do you love him?”

She thought it through. She loved her parents, she’d loved her baby. After that horrible black day six years ago, she’d never wanted to love anyone again. She hadn’t thought she was capable.

“Alexander and I…we get on very well,” she murmured truthfully.

“That’s always a good sign.”

“He treats me like a lady.”

Her mother’s smile was reminiscent. “So he should.”

“He doesn’t know…doesn’t know about—”

She bit her lip, damming the sudden rush of emotion.

Her mother hugged her daughter tighter. “Tallie, you were always a good girl. Even good girls can take a wrong turn.”

But Natalie pulled away and growled. She was sick of feeling seventeen.

“I wish I could go back.” If only she hadn’t stumbled that day. If only her baby had lived. God, she’d felt so helpless. “I wish I could squeeze all the horrible memories from my mind. Sometimes I think I have. But I’ve only ever pushed them down.”

“It was God’s will.”

“Then why do I feel so responsible?”

“Because you’re a deeply caring person who has a wonderful heart. That’s why I believe in you. Why I’ve always believed.”

Wrung out, Natalie searched her mother’s gentle gaze. “If the baby is his, Alex should marry the mother of his child…shouldn’t he?”

Not me.

Not even when she could already feel that dear baby in her arms. Knew the lullabies she would sing.

Her mother’s mouth tightened. “Do you know what I really think?”

She shook her head. “Tell me.”

May held her daughter’s flaming cheek and Natalie saw that her mother’s eyes were edged with tears. But then May smiled and stood, urging Natalie to her feet as well.

“I think we need a strong cup of tea.” Bright again, May showed her only child to the kitchen. “After lunch, we’ll see darling Mrs. Heigle over the road. She loves your visits, too.”

The sun was a shimmering orange ball melting into the horizon by the time Natalie headed out of town.

After kissing her mother goodbye, she’d gone to spend an hour beneath the graceful umbrella of that poinciana tree. Following tradition, she replaced last month’s soft toy—a small pink bear—with a new toy, a purple poodle puppy. Then she’d sat on the grass, gazed at the headstone, saying nothing.

Only wishing.

Now, as she cruised by the faded sign that read, Visit Constance Plains Again Soon, a car passed her coming in and Natalie did an unconscious double take.

Nothing unusual about the vehicle—your everyday, run-of-the-mill four-wheel drive. It was the glimpse of the driver that niggled. She wasn’t sure why until ten miles out when the fleeting snapshot she’d caught gelled with the information knocking at her brain.

But then she laughed, shook her head.

That driver had ginger hair, yes. Didn’t mean he was the reporter from the other night. Even if he, or anyone else for that matter, had wanted information on her, Internet and phones would be far quicker than an eight-hour round-trip like the one she’d complete today.

Which reminded her.

Natalie selected a CD then, settling into her seat, stifled a yawn.

She wouldn’t reach Sydney until around nine. After a couple of restless nights, she couldn’t wait for her head to hit the pillow. Even thoughts of Alexander and their uncertain future wouldn’t ward off the Sandman tonight.

Her limbs were aching weights when, hours later, she steered into her apartment block’s driveway. With a heavy arm, she swiped her keycard and the automatic gates leading to the underground car park rumbled up. Then something in the shadows caught her eye. A car, and this time the model was highly distinctive.

Sleek black Audi R8s weren’t so run-of-the-mill.

Suddenly alert, she steered her car beneath the gate and swerved into her park. By the time she collected her bag off the passenger seat, Alexander stood by her door, reaching for the handle. A moment later, his warm hand gripped her elbow to help her out.

His face was dark and voice curiously gravelled. “It’s after nine. I was beginning to worry.”

A part of her was touched by his concern, but a bigger, thoroughly ragged part was slightly peeved.

“No need,” she said, winding casually out of his hold. She’d been doing that drive for six years and she’d continue to do it for another sixty.

Then, through her exhaustion and jolt of his unexpected appearance, the obvious question dawned.

She studied him more closely. “Alex, why are you here?”

Was something wrong with Bridget…with the baby?

“It’s been a crazy day,” he said, walking with her to the lift, his eyes cast down. “I’ve needed to make some decisions. Decisions that affect you.”

“Is Bridget all right?”

“I spoke with her briefly. Mateo said he’d fit her in anytime, but it was hard pinning her down to a day.” He stabbed the lift’s call button. “She said she wishes none of this had happened. She apologised for dragging me into it.”

Her heart dropped more. Bridget Davidson sounded sweet. Someone who deserved a good man as well as a nice life for herself and her baby. Natalie almost felt she knew her.

She found her voice over the stone stuck in her throat. “I’m sure you told her that you feel as responsible as she does.”

He slid over a look. “As I’ve said before, if I’m responsible, I’ll be there for them both, no question.”

After they stepped into the lift, Alex closed his eyes and rubbed his brow while Natalie pressed her floor’s button and a warning tingling stole up over the back of her scalp.

He looked so preoccupied. So drawn. Was she jumping to conclusions or was the decision he’d made today concerning her linked to his last statement? Was he here to tell her that he’d had a change of heart? Perhaps after his discussion with Bridget today he’d decided that, if the baby was his, he’d be there for them in more than a single-parent, part-time kind of way.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. Alex staying with the mother of his child was the morally right thing to do. She couldn’t forget how Chris Nagars had run out on his responsibilities. He’d turned his back, not only on her but also on the baby she’d carried.

She turned her face toward the wall.

Then again, she was no angel. She’d had her own reasons for kidding herself and accepting Alex’s ring. Fact was, Alex should focus on Bridget and that baby now, and they both knew it.

“I spoke with your boss today.”

She straightened and concentrated on his words. Alex had spoken to Phil? “About the Quinton house?”

“In part. Given you were unavailable, I asked him to arrange for the contract to accommodate rent before handover.”

“You plan to move in straightaway?”

“Yes, I do. With you.”

Her breath caught. One minute he was announcing he would be there for Bridget. Now he’d decided to move in with the other woman?

She raked a trembling hand through her hair. “I don’t suppose you considered asking me first?”

“Not after seeing the six o’clock news.”

She studied the hard edge to his mouth, the penny dropped and a withering feeling fell through her.

“I don’t believe it,” she murmured, cringing at the thought of having their private lives highlighted on prime-time TV. “Don’t they have better things to report on?”

“Apparently not. They even found some vision of my grandfather in his heyday.” His frown deepened. “A camera crew was waiting outside this building until thirty minutes before you pulled up. I thought they might’ve gone to hunt you down…” He gave a thankful grin. “Anyway, you’re safe. But you can bet they’ll be back and they won’t be gracious.”

Retrieving a key from her bag, Natalie crossed to her apartment’s front door. His protective instincts were laudable but clearly Alex hadn’t thought this through.

“Even if I move out of here, they could still corner me at work if they want to.”

“You don’t need to go to work.”

She stopped to slant her head at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re on vacation. I organised it with Phil.”

Dumbfounded, she coughed out a humourless laugh. “Phil, now, is it?”

“He agreed that it’s best you take time off.”

She set her jaw.

Not tired, not compassionate. Now she was angry.

“Do I get any say in this? I mean, has anyone heard of dialing a mobile phone? I think you have my number.”

“I didn’t want to upset you when you had such a long drive to get through. You have enough on your mind.”

“An understatement,” she mumbled, threading her key into its lock.

He followed her inside, his tall masculine build looking out of place in her single bedroom unit. “For the time being, it’s best.”

Says Alexander Ramirez.

She tossed her keys on the hallstand and, her back to Alex, pressed her clasped hands to her waist.

She was ticked off that Alex had spoken with Phil without her consent, but it had gone beyond that. Her boss thought having her lay low for a while was a good idea. Phil wasn’t a pushover. He wouldn’t have agreed if he hadn’t been certain. Perhaps he thought the initial boost the publicity had given Phil’s might ultimately turn sour.

These days people wanted heroes more than ever. Given the perceived moral dilemma here—a man marrying one woman while getting another pregnant—potential customers might take a stand and look elsewhere for their property needs.

She owed her boss a great deal. And she hadn’t had a vacation in…was it two years? This minute she was exhausted, mentally, physically, totally spent.

Leaning against the wall, she heeled off her shoes.

Hell, why fight it? Maybe a few days off wasn’t such a bad idea.

Not wanting to give in too easily, she headed for the kitchen. “How long have you men decided I should take off?”

“Phil said to take as long as you need.”

Feeling suddenly chilled, she crossed and rubbed her arms. “He wants me back, right?”

“With a huge sale like you made yesterday?” She heard him grunt. “I don’t think that’s in dispute.”

“That sale had nothing to do with my ability.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” He followed her to the corner of the kitchen where she reached for the kettle. “I was seriously in the market and you negotiated like a true pro. You’d be an asset on anyone’s team. Including mine.”

She looked over her shoulder. A lazy smile was tugging on his mouth. This man couldn’t help being sexy if he tried.

She cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not in the market for another job.”

“Oh, in my case, our affiliation would be purely personal.”

When his arms ravelled around her, urging her to fully face him, half her fatigue melted away, to be replaced by far more inviting, provocative feeling. Still, she tried to look sternly at him. He got away with too much too easily.

She set her palms against his chest. “You’re doing a charm job on me again.”

“Is it working?” He nipped the sensitive shell of her ear and his warm breath stirred her flesh to goose bumps.

She sighed and her head rocked back. She was all out of fight.

“So where is this vacation taking place?”

“It’s a surprise?”

“All right. So what do I need?”

“A few changes of clothing. Some after-five gear.”

She quizzed eyes. “I thought we were going underground.” Hiding from the press.

His grin was crooked. “There’s all kinds of ways to dodge a bullet.”