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“Then unmake it.”
He shut the door behind him and strode into the darkness, and her heart beat faster in response.
“I can’t unmake it,” she said, her voice raspy. Her throat was aching and she thought that the night of no sleep yesterday and the marathon to get everything set up today had just set her up to fall ill. “Look, I made up my mind. I can’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m unhappy, Garrett. I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and yet don’t. I make money for myself, I’ve got great friends, and Molly, and I’ve got you and your family...and I’m so unhappy.”
The mattress squeaked as he sat down, and suddenly she felt his hand patting the bed as though to find her. “Why are you unhappy?” he asked. He found her thigh over the covers, and when he squeezed, her stomach tightened, too.
She couldn’t remember ever being in a dark room with him, or maybe she could, decades ago, when he had been sick and she would help Eleanor nurse him and feed him soup. But now she was no longer a girl. Her body was a woman’s, and her responses to this man were purely feminine and decidedly discomforting. Her blood raced hot through her veins as her body turned the same consistency of her pillow behind her. Soft. Feathery. Weightless.
“Why are you unhappy?” he murmured. She felt the mattress squeak again when he edged closer. He seemed to be palpating the air until he felt her shoulder; then he slid his hand up her face. The touch of his fingers melted her, and she closed her eyes as he cupped her jaw and bent to her ear. “Tell me what makes you unhappy and I’ll fix it for you.”
He smelled of alcohol. And his unique scent.
She shook her head at his impossible proposition, almost amused, but not quite. More like unsettled. By his nearness, his touch.
She had promised herself, when she’d decided she had to move away, that she would forget this man. And now all she could think of was reaching up to touch his hair and draw his lips to hers. She couldn’t see him in the darkness, but she knew his face by memory. The sleek line of his dark eyebrows. The beautiful tips of his sooty eyelashes. The strikingly beautiful espresso shade of his eyes, dark brown from up close and coal-black from afar.
She knew his strong face, with that strong, proud forehead, as strong as his cheekbones and jaw, and she knew the perfect shape of his mouth. She might not have touched his face with her fingers in her life, but her eyes had run over those features more than they had touched any other thing on this earth.
“You can’t fix it. You’re not God,” she sadly whispered. Her throat now ached with emotion, too.
“You’re right. I’m a devil.” He cupped her face in both hands and stroked his thumb across the flesh of her lips, triggering a strange reaction in her body. “Why did you wear lipstick tonight? You look prettier bare.”
Her breath caught as she realized he was stroking her lips with his thumb like he wanted to kiss her. He’d called her pretty. When had he ever called her pretty? Decades ago, maybe by accident, he’d blurted it out. But it had been years since he’d ever complimented her. Or touched her.
He’d just done both.
And suddenly the only thing moving in the room was her heaving chest, and his thumb as it moved side to side, caressing her lips, filling her body with an ocean of longing. She swallowed back a moan.
“You’re right to want to leave here, Kate.” His voice thickened as he bent his head, and he smelled so good and exuded such body warmth and strength, she went light-headed. “You should run from here.”
It took every ounce of willpower for her to push at his hard shoulders. “You’re drunk, Garrett. Go away and get out of my bed.”
His hands tightened on her face as he nuzzled her nose with his, the timbre of his voice rough with torment. “Kate, there’s not a day I don’t remember what I took from you—”
“Garrett, we can talk about all this tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. You’re staying here. Here, Kate. Where I can take care of you and I know you’re safe. All right, Freckles?”
“Even if I’m miserable?”
He dropped his hands to her shoulders and squeezed. “Tell me what makes you miserable, Kate. I’ll take care of it. I’ll make it better for you.”
Kate wanted to push him away, needed to push him away. He was drunk and she didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight, not like this. But the instant she flattened her palms on his shirt, they stayed there. On his chest. Feeling his hard muscles through the fabric, his heart beating under her hands. Between her legs, she grew moist and hot.
When she was little, she’d wanted him because he was strong and protective, and her favorite boy of all the boys she’d ever met. But now she was older and a new kind of wanting tangled up inside her. Her breasts went heavy from the mere act of touching his chest through his shirt, and her nipples puckered against her nightshirt.
“Do me a favor, Kate?”
His voice slurring even more, Garrett sounded drunker by the second as he stroked her face with unsteady fingertips. Every pore in her body became aware of that whispery touch, causing shivers down her nerve endings.
“Stay with us. My mother loves you. Beth loves you, and so does her son.” He seemed to wrack his brain for more to say. “And Molly. Molly loves you, Kate. She needs you. Julian, Landon, hell, everyone.”
But not him?
She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry or hit him for excluding himself, but she already knew that she was a weight on him, a responsibility to him. That’s what she’d always been. Forcing her arms to return to her sides, she sighed. “Garrett...”
“What will that obsessed client of yours, Missy Something, do without your currant muffins? What will I do? Hmm, Kate? It’s a tragedy to think about it.”
“I don’t want to argue about this now, Garrett.” She rubbed her temple.
“All right, Katie.”
She blinked.
“All right?” she repeated.
Confused by his easy concession, which was not like Garrett at all, she suddenly heard him shift on the bed and spread his big body down the length beside her.
Eyes widening in horror, she heard him plump one of the two pillows.
“All right, Katie. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said in that deep, slurred voice.
She heard him shift once more, as if to get more comfortable. Sitting on the bed, frozen in disbelief, she managed to sputter, “You’re not planning to stay here the night, are you?”
He made a move with his head that she couldn’t see but rustled the pillow.
“Garrett, you moron, go to your room,” she said, shoving at his arm a little.
He caught her hand and squeezed it. “Relax, you little witch. I’ll go back to my room when I stop spinning. Come here and brace me down.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side, and Kate was too stunned to do anything but play rag doll.
Minutes passed as she remained utterly still, every part of her body excruciatingly aware of his powerful arm. Garrett was not the touchy-feely brother; that was Julian. In fact, Garrett seemed to do his best not to touch her. But his guard was down and he seemed not to want to let go this time.
She frowned when he tightened his hold and slid his fingers up beneath the fall of her hair. Cupping her scalp, he pressed her face down to his chest.
“Garrett,” Kate said, poking on his abs. They were hard as rocks under his shirt.
He breathed heavily. Oh, no. Seriously. Was he asleep?
“Garrett?”
She groaned when there was no response and wondered if she should move into Garrett’s room and leave him to sleep here, because she was certainly not dragging him to his own room. He must weigh double what she did, even if he was all muscle, judging from the hardness of the arm around her and the abs she’d just poked.
Instead, she grumbled and complained under her breath, and ended up using her pillow as a barrier between them. She eased his arm from around her, setting it on the pillow. His hand was enormous between her fingers, and for a moment, she seemed to be unable to let go, kept her hand over his just to feel that he was not a figment of her imagination. Then she realized what she was doing and that it was stupid and foolish, and she yanked her hand away.
Damn him.
He was going to do everything possible to keep her in Texas, she knew.
But he wasn’t going to take Florida away from her.
Oh, no, her life had stopped revolving around Garrett Gage ever since she’d decided she didn’t want him anymore, and now she’d be damned before she let him screw up her perfect plans, too.
Three
Monday morning, business at the San Antonio Daily was more intense than normal.
Usually Landon, the eldest Gage brother, would bark about the grammar mistakes in that day’s print edition. Julian John, the youngest, was no longer working at headquarters since he’d started his own PR firm, but he still occasionally dropped in and offered his services in weekly status meetings. Lately, Garrett had been focused on maneuvering their assets to make one of their greatest takeovers, one that would absorb Clarks Communications into the Daily and the rest of their holdings.
Which was why Cassandra Clarks was visiting today. She sat in Garrett’s office, quietly eating the remaining muffin from the batch Kate had sent to the office this morning.
It made Garrett grumpy to see that muffin go.
But he feigned indifference as he flipped to the next page of the current stock statistics for Clarks Communications. Still, he wasn’t really paying attention to their impressive growth numbers. Instead, he kept going back to Saturday night and Sunday morning.
He’d woken up alone, dressed in the most uncomfortable way possible, with a stiff back and the scent of Kate in bed, which had made him hard as marble.
Then he’d realized he was lying on Kate’s old, frilly pink bed. Which he’d apparently decided to take over during the night while on a semidrunken spree.
Damn.
He’d immediately texted her Sunday morning, and even now, he kept glancing at his phone, replaying their conversation.
Sorry for crashing in last night.
You mean that was you? That’s all right, at least u didn’t break anything.
But my pride. And my back.
Ouch. Ok, but it’s nothing my muffins won’t cure.
Holy hell. Was she flirting with him?
I’m going to savor every bite.
He wasn’t sure if he’d been flirting, too. Savor every bite. The alcohol had still been running through his system, clearly messing up his head. Thank God Kate hadn’t replied after that last one. But she’d sent a dozen muffins this morning and he had gobbled three up with barely a drink of coffee. His experience with Kate’s food was almost sexual.
He couldn’t help it; it had always been like this since the beginning.
The first time she’d made chocolate-chip cookies on her own, Garrett had been fresh out of bed on a Sunday in his randy teen years. He’d been scouring the kitchen for breakfast and had shoved a warm cookie into his mouth, nodding when she’d asked if it was good. Then Kate had laughingly stepped up and brushed a crumb from the side of his mouth, and he’d almost swallowed the cookie whole.
Sometimes he waited until he was alone to eat her stuff. And he imagined he was licking her fingers when he wrapped his tongue around her sugary frostings. And when they had little sprinkles, he pictured her freckles.
He really should look into therapy.
Suddenly he heard Landon sigh and slap his copy of the report shut, and he was jerked back to the present.
“So if your brother is still not aware of our plans,” he asked Cassandra, “why are you chickening out on selling?” The chair creaked as he leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.
Cassandra Clarks may have had the appearance of a blonde bombshell, but behind that “bimbo” facade, Garrett had learned, there was actually a brain. The woman was not only smart, but about as flexible on her terms as a damned wall.
Today she exuded casual confidence, slowly shaking her head as Landon explained his position.
“We’re supposed to keep buying the stock until we get over twenty percent,” Landon told her. “In a week, two at most, your brother’s company will be ours before he even realizes we’re in bed with him. No pun intended.”
“None taken,” Cassandra said, eyeing Landon judiciously as she finally stopped shaking her head and allowed him to continue.
“Once we secure your remaining thirty-two percent, it puts us in control, and it leaves you a very wealthy woman, Cassie.”
“That’s the problem. My brother will know I sold to you. He will destroy me and anything else I have,” she said, her entire countenance clouded with worry. “What I wanted to propose to Garrett on Saturday before he cut me short was a marriage of convenience. My brother has control of my stake in the company now, but if I marry, he won’t have control over financial decisions regarding my stake anymore. My husband can take over the shares and compensate me discreetly. It would be an easy arrangement, and over in six months, where we’ll both happily walk away with what we want. Me with my money, you with the stock.”
Garrett remained silent as he absorbed the proposal.
He met Cassandra’s gaze unflinchingly, the ambitious businessman in him wanting to say yes. But in his mind, he went back to waking up to Kate’s scent on the pillow, to the memory of somehow holding her in his arms.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt several times, aware that his frown was pinching into his face. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, Cassandra,” he said, signaling for his assistant to refill all their coffees.
Hell, he might even start drinking whiskey at this hour. Because marriage?
“Like Landon said, we’re willing to buy those shares up front. No need to get dramatic about it.”
“I’m afraid selling out front is not an option. My brother is... You don’t know him. Marriage is the only way I can free myself of his control. You take the shares, transfer the money to me, and then we walk six months later with irreconcilable differences. It’s a marriage in name only and we have nothing to lose. That’s the only way it’s happening: you marry me and by right take my thirty-two percent.”
Landon’s and Garrett’s eyes met across the conference table. Landon’s gray gaze almost looked silver in his concern.
“Look, Cassandra,” he started. “We’re almost at twenty percent already. We’ll buy your position outright at way above market price. At fifty-two percent, we’ll be in control and can get your brother out of there. He won’t have a say in the matter anymore.”
She shook her head, her eyes tearing up. “You don’t know him. He has a say in a lot of things in my life. I don’t get real financial independence until I marry—can’t you understand?”
She reached across the table and squeezed Garrett’s hand as if she were falling from a precipice and he’d been appointed the task of hauling her up.
“It’ll be a marriage in name only, but I can make it sweet for you. I can. I know I’m pretty. I think you’re an incredibly sexy man.”
His stomach turned, and he was amazed at how calmly he looked back at her. Several years ago, he’d probably have done it without thinking. He was a businessman, after all. She was an attractive woman offering something and he had nothing to lose. People got married and divorced for other reasons; why not for business?
He just didn’t have the energy for it right now. What he’d told Kate at his party had been the truth. All he wanted was for Kate to be home. He would dedicate every waking moment to making that happen. Life without Kate to him was...unimaginable.
He was selfish when it came to her.
He was stupid, unreasonable and stubborn when it came to her.
But Cassandra Clarks didn’t know this. She didn’t know that as he sat in this chair, and let her squeeze his hand, every cell in his body was burning with yearning for another woman. He’d burned for so many years, it was a miracle he hadn’t turned to ashes by now.
“We’ll talk about this during the week, see what we can come up with,” Landon finally said. In silence, the Gage brothers both stood up to dismiss her.
