Secrets Of The A-List

скачать книгу бесплатно


What else didn’t he know? The police were still investigating the accident. There were no fresh leads. It was likely to remain that way unless Harrison woke up from the coma. It occurred to Thom that maybe Gabe was responsible for Harrison’s accident. Out with the old...the perfect takeover. He certainly had the connections to orchestrate such a thing.

The idea left him cold. Elana would be devastated by that idea.

Besides, he had no proof. He’d only ever witnessed Gabe and Harrison as having a close relationship. Still, as he reached Elana, the notion lingered.

She was frowning as he approached, brushing off the woman at her side to take a few steps toward him. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her lovely face filled with irritation.

God, she was beautiful. And vivacious. And challenging. And everything any man could want or desire. He longed to truly want her. To truly need her. To truly love her the way she needed to be loved.

But even after so many years, it still tasted like a lie on his tongue.

Because, in his heart, he knew it wasn’t Elana that he wanted. Or needed. Or loved.

It was someone else.

It always had been.

“I’ve been out on the balcony with your mother and cousin,” he replied, trying to make his voice as light as possible. “Did you miss me?”

She was still frowning. “Your speech...”

“I know,” he said and touched her arm. “I’m sorry. Let’s go someone where we can talk.”

She glanced around. “And leave the party?”

“Only for a moment,” he assured her. “I need to speak with you, Elana...it’s important.”

Her expression became wary, but she finally nodded a little. “Okay.”

She led him toward the bar, and they huddled in a dark corner. Thom looked over his shoulder and saw Gabe striding toward them. The other man had the upper hand. The Fixer had him by the cojones, and he knew it. But he wasn’t about to be blackmailed, especially by someone as disagreeable and grim as Gabe Santiago. He knew he had to marry Elana. That’s all that mattered. He had to do something, and fast. “Marry me,” he said quickly.

Elana’s eyes widened, and she giggled. “What?”

“Marry me,” he said again.

“Um...we’re already engaged, Thom,” she reminded him. “You asked me that question already, months ago. I said yes. You gave me a ring, and now here we are.”

“Marry me now,” Thom said and moved closer. “Tonight. Let’s fly to Vegas and do it. Just you and me. No one else. Just us, Elana...like it should be.”

“But we—”

“Come on,” he insisted, whispering the words close to her ear. “It’ll be fun. Don’t tell me you’re not as over all this wedding preparation stuff as I am. The whole thing is turning into a circus. Let’s do it. Let’s say to hell with everyone and everything and just do it our own way.”

She laughed and pressed against him. “Since when have you been so impulsive? I mean, I like it...but we can’t possibly do it.”

“You can’t possibly do what?”

Gabe’s voice. Thom’s back straightened immediately. But it was Elana who spoke next.

“My gorgeous fiancé wants to elope,” she said with a shrill laugh. “Imagine that.”

He looked at the other man and raised a brow. “Really? This is all rather sudden.”

Thom shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really anyone’s business but ours.”

Elana jabbed him in the ribs. “Thom,” she chided. “Gabe didn’t mean anything by it, did you, cousin?”

Gabe shook his head. “Of course not. But Thom is just full of surprises tonight, isn’t he?”

Elana laughed again. “True enough, but I like it. Keep this up and I’ll make it worth your while later.”

The innuendo was obvious, and Thom felt his skin heat. Elana was a flirt, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t usually on the receiving end of her flirtation. Even if it was for show, it still made him uncomfortable. Thom glanced toward Gabe and saw a brief flash of skepticism in the other man’s expression. But Gabe hid it well. Occupational hazard, he thought, figuring that the Fixer spent his life hiding who he was and what he did.

And Thom wished that making love with Elana would fix everything. But it wouldn’t.

“Everything okay here?”

Mariella.

The older woman approached and moved beside her nephew. Uneasiness crept up Thom’s spine. He liked and respected Elana’s mother, but en masse, the family was formidable.

“Elana was just saying how Thom wants to elope,” Gabe supplied.

“Really?” Mariella said, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “And what do you say, Elana?”

“I was just about to say,” Elana purred the words and leaned in toward him, “that as exciting as that sounds, there’s no way we could possibly do that without upsetting you and Thom’s parents. And Daddy,” she added, her voice suddenly quiet, “I mean, if he was here...and awake and able to...you know what I mean.”

Guilt pressed down on Thom’s shoulders. He knew how much Elana adored her father and tried to offer a few consoling words. “I’m sure he’s here in spirit, honey.”

Elana’s eyes filled with tears, and she blinked quickly. “I know. I just wish—”

“The wedding will go ahead as planned,” Mariella said firmly, cutting her off. “Arrangements have been made, venues booked, invitations sent out. It’s what we all want. What we planned. And remember that you are heading to Paris next Friday. Dior is expecting you to choose from their spring collection.”

Paris. That’s right. Elana was going on a shopping trip. Harrison Marshall’s daughter had her pick from the best fashion houses in Europe. Mariella had taken great pride in assuring that Elana had her pick from the latest collection. And no doubt his fiancée would spend her time and money equally at Saint Laurent, Givenchy and Dior. Their wedding was the event of the year on the social calendar. Hundreds of guests, the best catering, gowns direct from Paris...so no expense spared. Yeah, circus just about covered it. But if he knew Elana, he suspected she’d be scouring some of the edgier, more modern fashion houses while she was in Paris. And her next words confirmed it.

“I was thinking about heading to a few of the newer places,” Elana said and smiled. “You know, in the Boho district. Some of the places you’re suggesting are so...so...old-school.”

Mariella waved an impatient hand. “It’s already organized.”

“But, Mom, I—”

“You can do both. Remember, we need this wedding to show the world that we are still a tight unit, a family,” Mariella stressed. “So forget all this nonsense about eloping and start mingling with your guests. This is your engagement party,” she reminded them and then smiled. “And you two are not going to deprive me of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of seeing my darling daughter get married. I won’t hear of it.” She moved between them, draping an arm around them both for a moment. “Okay?”

Elana nodded. “You’re right, Mom.”

Mariella stepped back, releasing them, looking very pleased with herself. Of course, she would be, Thom thought. She’d won the round, with her best trained attack dog at her side. He noticed that Gabe was still watching them with a kind of veiled skepticism.

Thom wrapped an arm around his fiancée’s slender waist and pulled her close. She smelled so good, like flowers and apples. Beneath the scent of the Creed tuberose fragrance she wore, her signature shampoo was as familiar to him as his own breath, and he inhaled deeply, feeling the comfort and warmth of her seep through to his bones like a tonic. To the world she was Harrison Marshall’s spoiled and indulged daughter, often considered a flake and ridiculed or referred to unkindly in the media. But to Thom, she was his Elana. His best freaking friend in the whole world.

He would marry her. And he’d be faithful. He’d make it work. For both of them. He had to.

He had no other choice.

Chapter Two (#u6b853970-b359-5a90-a7d9-2437676a36ab)

Elana was never going to admit to anyone that she had never really cared for Paris.

After all, it was Paris.

But she preferred the warmth and sunshine of California to the cool Parisian evenings. And she preferred her own room and the familiarity of her own things at Casa Cat. The truth was, she’d never been much of a traveler. But this trip was important to her mother, so she would make the best of it.

Besides, she had Rafe for company. Her brother had agreed to accompany her, and she was delighted to spend time with her favorite sibling. He wasn’t as serious and disapproving as Luc, or as brooding and mysterious as Gabe. Rafe understood her. And it went both ways. She knew their father disapproved of him, even though he feigned tolerance. But she’d always loved Rafe for who he was—a kind, compassionate and creative man who had so much to offer the world. They had the same sense of humor, enjoyed the same movies and music, and shared many of the same friends. Like Thom. She knew her brother supported her marriage and would always be her greatest ally in her family. And she loved him for always showing his support—even when he disagreed with her choices. Like Jarrod. But even if he scolded her, he would only ever do it in private. That was how it had always been between them.

And shopping at the best fashion houses on Boulevard Saint-Germain and Champs-Elysees wasn’t exactly a hardship. She’d been pampered and indulged for over two hours, selecting her trousseau with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Retail therapy always worked when she was in a funk. And Rafe had promised to accompany her to Montmartre later that afternoon so she could explore some of her favorite shops without their mother’s disapproval casting a shadow from across the ocean. Plus, the explicit texts she been getting from Jarrod all morning had lightened her mood. The man certainly knew which buttons to push. Even if it did make her miss him like crazy. And want him. She couldn’t wait to be in his bed again. She craved him so much it hurt having so many miles between them. Surely he understood why she had to marry Thom. It was for the family. To preserve their reputation. To give the appearance of unity and strength. And she had her role to play, as everyone else did.

“You know,” Rafe drawled, glass in hand, ankles crossed as he stretched out on the brocade chaise across from her, “your French is way better than your Spanish. Why is that, I wonder?”

Elana shrugged her slender shoulders and offered him a cheeky grin. “Not as many expectations, I suppose.”

“You mean, because Mariella isn’t breathing down your neck telling you to enunciate your vowels,” he said, mimicking their mother’s husky voice, and they both laughed loudly.

Elana got her laughter under control and quickly met her brother’s gaze. “Why do you and Luc refer to her as Mariella? You know she hates it. And since you’re her favorite child...”

As her words trailed off, Rafe shrugged and then smiled. “She only pretends to hate it.”

“Because you can do no wrong in her eyes?”

He laughed. “Are you serious? I’m like the family’s number-one disappointment.”

“You are not,” she said and shook her head, still smiling. “I am.”

“Nope,” Rafe said and grinned wider. “That’s my claim to fame. I mean, we all know that Luc is Mother’s favorite. She’s always treated him differently than the rest of us. And you’re the baby of the family, so you get a free pass. Although sometimes I think Gabe is her favorite.”

“That’s because he’s her nephew,” Elana explained and smirked. “You know, abandoned, fatherless child, et cetera...pity is a solid motivator.”

“So, now she pities Gabe. What about me...don’t I deserve some pity, too? I really think I’m this family’s number-one black sheep.”

“Oh, please,” Elana said dramatically. “I’m definitely this family’s biggest disappointment. I didn’t go to college. Let’s be honest, I barely made it through high school. I’m window dressing for the business, that’s all. So I won’t have you trying to steal that crown from me.”

Rafe stuck his chin out. “I think I could pull off a tiara as well as you, little sister.”

She laughed loudly. “Of course you could,” she said and reached across the small coffee table to grab the sparkly headpiece that matched the earrings she’d added to her trousseau. “Want to try this on for size?”

“You think I won’t?”

Elana loved that her brother was always up for a dare. “Be my guest.”

Rafe reached across and grabbed the small tiara, propping it on his head with a laugh. “See...perfect.”

“You look so pretty.”

Her brother quickly ditched the headpiece and laughed. “We all know that Luc is the pretty boy in the family. And he’s a doctor. And he has a perfectly beautiful and well-connected girlfriend. Even if Rachel is so cold you could freeze ice cubes on her ass. Yes, Luc’s the whole package.”

“But you’re nicer,” she assured him, chuckling. “Anyway, I always thought Gabe was the handsome one.”

“And Dad’s favorite,” he said and grinned.

“Don’t let Luc hear you say that. Besides, I think Gabe has taken Dad’s accident personally...like he feels he should have protected him, or something.”

Rafe frowned. “Protected him from what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know...it’s just a feeling. You know they work closely together. He’s Dad’s right-hand man.”

“The son he wished he always had,” Rafe said with a cynical smile.

But Elana wasn’t fooled. She knew her brother craved to be held in the same esteem as their cousin or Luc. “You know that Dad has always found it hard to show how he feels about things.”

“About me, you mean?” Rafe said and raised a dark brow. “It’s okay, Elana... I know he loves me. It’s just that sometimes...sometimes he acts as though he wishes he didn’t, if that makes sense. Anyway, let’s not get maudlin. Let’s talk about happy things. Like your wedding.”

Elana let out a long sigh. “Thom wanted to elope. He called the wedding a circus,” she said and sipped some champagne, looking around at the racks of gowns and the almost vulgar sense of wealth that surrounded them. The place reeked of opulence and entitlement. It really wasn’t her thing. Elana preferred a little more edge to her wardrobe. “I’m beginning to think he’s right.”

“Thom just wants to keep you safe.”

“Do you think?” she asked, thinking it seemed a strange thing for her brother to say. “Safe from what?”

“Overexposure,” he replied and shrugged. “Bad press. Particularly after that scuffle Luc and I got into recently.”

“Scuffle?” she echoed, one brow arched.

Rafe grinned. “Luc likes to think he can still beat me in a fight. Which he usually can,” he said and rubbed his jaw at the memory. “But I’ll never let him know that. Besides, you know the Scotts haven’t hogged the limelight like the Marshalls have for the past few decades. They might be wealthy, but they’re middle-class, suburban folk at their core.”

“Pompous snob,” she chided playfully. “I thought you adored Thom as much as I do.”

Something flashed across her brother’s face. Disappointment? Concern? Anguish? Was her caring, sensitive brother really convinced that she was doing the right thing?

“Of course I like Thom,” he said quietly. “And I’m not a snob. I just want you to be sure.”

“I am sure. I’m doing the right thing,” she said. “You’ve been friends with him for years, too. You know Thom is a good man. He’s just a lousy public speaker.”

Rafe made a sympathetic face. “No doubt he’s going to be reminded of his appalling speech at the engagement party for a while?”

“You know what the press is like,” she said and sighed. “But I’m sure he’s tough enough to take it. Although he did shut down his social media accounts as a precaution.”