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“I’m glad you’re going with me.” He glanced her way as he rolled to a stop at a quiet intersection.
The remark was a garden-variety, friendly thing to say. But ever since he’d held her earlier—even though it had been strictly for comfort—she’d been hyperaware of Gabe McNeill. Her throat went dry.
“That’s kind of you to say, but I can’t imagine it was easy wrapping up your business at the hotel in just a few hours.” She smiled over her shoulder at Nadine, needing a distraction from the warmth in Gabe’s blue eyes. “Nadine, you must have been surprised to get a call with so little notice.”
“I have been asking my mother daily when Monsieur McNeill would be ready to take this trip. I am anxious to see New York City.” She grinned widely, her smile so warm and open, like her mother’s. “I started packing two weeks ago when I first learned this might happen.”
“You see, Brianne?” Gabe downshifted as he turned into the private airfield, a little-used amenity for the island’s most privileged. “The trip was meant to be, and it was just as well you lit a fire to get us underway. I might have spent another week tweaking that archway molding.”
Grateful to speak about something besides the family problems waiting for her on the other end of their flight, Brianne seized on the topic with both hands.
“You do beautiful work.”
“It’s an indulgence. A hobby I invest too much time in.” His expression darkened as he parked the SUV beside an exotic black sports car in the small lot. “Now that I’m a father, I need to spend less time on personal pursuits and more time developing my business to provide for Jason’s future.”
In the back seat, Nadine unbuckled the baby, prattling to him about the great adventure they were going to have.
Brianne followed him to the back of the SUV to help with the bags. She’d never seen anyone restore historic woodwork with as much precision and commitment to craft as Gabe. “What you do is a gift few people have. It’s a dying art.”
She pulled out her bag and started to reach for a smaller suitcase when a uniformed attendant greeted them, a cart at the ready to wheel their luggage to the plane. A warm breeze blew strands of her ponytail around her neck to stick briefly on her lip balm. She peeled her hair aside, tossing it back behind her shoulder.
“And it’s dying for a reason,” Gabe replied as they followed the airfield staffer to a gleaming white Cessna with the stairs lowered and ready. “Not enough people care about those kinds of details when you can purchase a prefabricated piece for a fraction of the cost.”
He greeted the pilot while the ground attendant loaded their bags for them, leaving Brianne to consider his words. She would have never guessed he’d be so dismissive of the craft he’d spent years honing.
While the attendant ushered them on board the private plane, Brianne weighed what he’d said. Maybe she didn’t know him nearly as well as she thought she did. As if the sleek jet at his disposal didn’t already highlight that they came from different worlds, now she questioned how much value he placed on her chosen career field if he viewed his own as simply a “hobby.”
Bristling, she told herself not to let it bother her. She was worried about her grandmother and on edge to begin with. She buckled into the deluxe white leather seat as the attendant who saw them on to the plane briefly reviewed some of the amenities. There was a fully stocked bar, Wi-Fi access throughout the journey, global channels available and a simplified cold menu since there would be no server on board with them.
Gabe thanked her, then settled Nadine and Jason in a private compartment in the back. He returned to take the spot beside Brianne, his arm brushing hers briefly as he fastened his seat belt. The pilot pulled up the stairs and locked the exterior door before closing himself in the cockpit for the flight. Not long after, the engine rumbled as the aircraft taxied forward.
Now that they were settled, Brianne picked up the thread of their conversation. “I still can’t believe you’d put woodworking down like that. What about landscape design? Is that a dying art best left to wither?”
“Of course not—” he said.
But she wasn’t finished. Some of the agitation of the day came out now, her argument picking up momentum as the plane picked up speed.
“Because you can surely purchase a random tree or bush at your local nursery and throw it in the ground. Who needs beauty and refinement when there’s a buck to be made?”
As the plane left the ground and gained altitude, the view from the windows shifted from the scattered lights of buildings to a deeper darkness. The cabin lights dimmed automatically, casting them in deep shadow until Gabe switched on the reading lamp over the vacant seating across from them. Only then could she see the level look in those blue eyes as he studied her.
“You think I’m suggesting it’s all about money?” His voice gave nothing away.
“That’s how it sounds to me. Like your craftsmanship is less important than learning the art of moneymaking at the elbow of a business titan like Malcolm McNeill.” But some of the steam went out of her argument at his cool words, and she wondered if she’d misunderstood him.
He leaned forward in his seat and turned toward her, giving her his full attention.
“I have a son to think about. His future is more important to me than any job, passion or hobby.” The intensity in his expression was unmistakable. She used to see it, to some degree, when he worked on a restoration project. But this was different.
Powerful.
“I understand that.” Truly, she did. “I admire it tremendously given the careless way other people parent their children.” Drawing a breath, she ventured closer to her point. “But what if you teach your son that success can be found in things that make you happy?”
Air blew on her from the vents overhead, giving her a sudden chill. Or maybe it was caused by the look on Gabe’s face.
“Do I want to teach Jason that it’s okay to walk away from responsibilities to pursue any self-centered shot at happiness just because it’s shiny and different?” He smoothed the sleeve of his jacket, his forearm resting on the white leather chair between them. “His mother already turned her back on family for a chance at fame. I’ll be damned if I make the same selfish choices, too.”
Three (#u9945bf98-7f25-52d8-b020-e0731532b2bf)
Talk about a conversation fail.
Two hours into the flight to New York, Gabe cursed himself for allowing emotions he normally kept in check to bubble to the surface with Brianne. But her words had reopened a wound he’d been determined to ignore. He refused to let thoughts of his ex-wife ruin his relationships—not with Brianne, and most especially not with his son.
Brianne had slipped past his defenses in other ways, too, stirring to life an attraction he’d had on lockdown since they met. And that had given rise to an outrageous idea. Instead of arguing with her, he needed to use this flight to talk to her about working together to help further one another’s interests.
There was still time to reevaluate his strategy, of course. He could keep the scheme brewing in his head to himself and simply escort her to Brooklyn as they’d agreed. In light of the disconnect they had after boarding the plane, maybe that would be the best solution. Except his plan wasn’t just about helping himself. It would offer her a face-saving solution to aid her grandmother. It was a way around Brianne’s prickly pride to deliver assistance she would otherwise never accept.
He felt Brianne’s fingers brush the sleeve of his jacket—the barest of touches to capture his attention. Turning, he found her curled sideways in her seat, facing him. Shoes off, she had her feet tucked under her in the wide leather armchair. At some point during the flight, she had taken her hair down from its ponytail, and the silky dark waves spilled over the lightweight gray wrap she’d pulled around herself like a blanket. In the lamplight, he could see the spatter of golden freckles over the bridge of her nose.
“I’m sorry.” She let her fingers linger on his sleeve for just a moment, lightly rubbing back and forth across his wrist, before the touch fell away. “I have no business telling you what’s right or wrong to teach your son. I’m so wound up and worried about Nana, I’m not thinking straight.”
He set aside his phone, where he’d been scrolling through messages, including a text from Theresa’s personal assistant scheduling an “appointment” to have Jason at the photographer’s studio in Nashville for the Valentine’s Day photo shoot. As much as he wanted Jason to have time with his mother, a magazine spread wasn’t what he had in mind. And he worried about Jason’s future if Theresa decided to pop in and out of his life. Their son needed stability.
Shoving the troubling thoughts aside, he turned briefly to check the private compartment behind them. No sounds had come from Nadine or Jason in the last hour. Confirming that Jason was all settled, he turned back to Brianne to give her his undivided attention.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He tipped his head against the seat rest and stared up at the jet’s contoured ceiling. “You had no way of knowing my concerns for Jason’s future.” He debated how much more to say about it. But if he was going to propose his new plan to Brianne, he would need to share more with her about his personal life. “You couldn’t have possibly known how much time I spent trying to convince Jason’s mother to make room in her career so that she could be there for her family.”
The old resentment was still fresh.
Brianne tilted her head to one side. “So you want Jason to have more opportunities because Theresa saw only one for herself, and it cost her her family?”
“I don’t want my son to ever feel so locked in to one life choice that he can’t compromise for the sake of love. Family. Personal relationships.” Gabe had offered Theresa so many possible ways to make a family work while she pursued her dream, but she hadn’t seriously considered any of them. Stardom and family didn’t mix, apparently. She wanted to be “free” to travel as much as she chose without worrying about returning home to the needs of an infant.
He’d told Theresa he would always be there for her, no matter how far she traveled. But she seemed to check out on their marriage the moment something more interesting came along. He could have dealt with that. What killed him was that she’d checked out on motherhood before even giving birth, spending less than a week with Jason before pleading with Gabe to take him back to Martinique so she could concentrate.
Beside him, Brianne pulled the wrap more tightly around her. “I understand. I just hope you find time one day to do what makes you happiest, as well.”
“For now, I’m content to focus on Jason. There’s nothing more important to me than giving him stability. A sense of family.”
He had a lot to make up to the boy after being unable to keep his mother around.
“Tell me more about the McNeills who live in New York.” Brianne tilted forward to rest her chin on one knee. “Is your extended family large?”
“Besides my grandfather, Malcolm, I’ve got three half brothers—Cameron, Quinn and Ian. They all married in the last year.”
“Because of the terms of Malcolm’s will?” Idly, she spun one of her gold rings around her finger with her thumb. The topaz stone appeared and disappeared as she rotated it. Did he make her nervous?
She didn’t normally wear jewelry while working. Taking this trip together gave Gabe a different view of her; this was a softer, more vulnerable side of the woman he’d only known through their work. Or maybe he’d never allowed himself to see this aspect of her, knowing he would be drawn to her even more. There was something compelling about Brianne. And something very, very sexy.
He forced his thoughts back to her question. “I’m not close enough with that branch of the family to know their reasons, but it seems highly coincidental they all happened to find true love within months of discovering they wouldn’t inherit the family business if they weren’t married for at least a calendar year.” Then he considered his own brothers and their new marriages. “But both Damon and Jager are over the moon about their wives, so who knows?”
Brianne bit her lip as she considered what he said. Gabe’s gaze lingered on her mouth, on the straight, white teeth pressing into her full lower lip. A bolt of hunger pierced right through him.
“And your dad?” she asked tentatively.
He hissed out a heated breath even as he wondered how she would taste if he took a sip of that lush mouth.
“My biological father is out of the picture.” He knew that in no uncertain terms. “Apparently Malcolm put Liam at the helm of the company a few years ago and McNeill Resorts started to falter, which is some of what prompted all the new emphasis on the next generation and inspired the unorthodox terms of the will. Liam never placed any importance on family.”
“So Jason will be introduced to his great-grandfather, three new uncles, plus their wives.” Brianne ticked them off on her fingers, putting the size of the family into perspective. “Are there any cousins in the mix yet?”
Gabe noticed the rose-colored stone on her pinkie ring was facing the wrong way and couldn’t resist reaching over to rotate it a quarter turn, letting his fingers brush hers for a second longer than necessary. He wanted to touch her more.
And often.
The awareness between them wasn’t going away. If anything, it increased every hour they spent together.
“Cameron’s wife, Maresa, had a daughter coming into their marriage. And you heard that Damon and Caroline now have a son, Lucas?” He looked at her for confirmation. Damon lived in Silicon Valley these days, but he’d made an appearance at the family compound in Martinique a few weeks ago. Caroline hadn’t even known she was pregnant when she was kidnapped a year ago, so Damon had been shocked to discover they had a son when she returned from her captivity after a bout of amnesia. “Plus Jager and Delia are expecting their first child this summer.”
“Jason will be surrounded by cousins.” Smiling, Brianne reached up to adjust the vent near her seat. The cool air wafted a soft hint of her fragrance his way, a single fragrant note. “No wonder you’d like closer ties to the family.”
She understood. Family was important to her, and now she recognized how deeply significant it was for him. The knowledge eased the last of his worries about his plan even as the traces of her scent heightened the urge to get closer.
“I want to strengthen that bond.” He knew Brianne would appreciate directness. But he’d definitely never envisioned himself making this kind of appeal. “That’s why I’m second-guessing myself about my approach with Malcolm.” Sensing the time was drawing near to make his pitch, he retrieved the carafe from the small table in front of them. “More water?”
“Sure.” She lifted her cut crystal glass and held it out to him. “What do you mean? I thought you were going to try and convince him to remove the marriage stipulation from his will?”
Gabe’s hand touched hers briefly as she passed him the glass. He couldn’t deny that touching her more often was a definite benefit of his plan. Brianne fascinated him, from her down-to-earth beauty to her easy way around his son. She had values he shared. And yes, she was a sensual, appealing woman.
Just thinking about her made him remember the need to top off his own glass. A cool drink would be a wise idea right about now.
“It occurs to me I’m the odd man out when all of my brothers and half brothers have already fallen in line with Malcolm’s wishes.” But Gabe knew even that could change, since there was a whole other branch of the family that Malcolm had only revealed to them a few weeks ago. Liam’s older brother, Donovan, had disavowed his father long ago, and refused to acknowledge McNeill Resorts or any of the McNeill legacy. No doubt Donovan had started over again in Wyoming, making his own fortune, and no doubt there were potential heirs out there whom Malcolm would try to draw back into the fold. But considering the way Donovan had shunned the rest of the family, Gabe wasn’t sure any of those cousins would be interested.
“I thought that was one of your biggest reasons for going to New York?” Brianne’s dark eyebrows furrowed as she accepted the glass from him, the gray cashmere wrap sliding off her shoulder when she moved.
“No. My main focus is learning more about their business and strengthening ties with the McNeills for Jason’s sake.”
“Because you can’t allow Jason to be left out of the will. It’s not fair that he can’t inherit because Theresa chose to walk away.” She sipped her water, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. “No one could have foreseen that.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for being defensive on my son’s behalf.”
“He is your son,” she said simply. “He deserves all the privileges that come with the McNeill name.”
“I couldn’t agree more. But there may be a better way to secure those rights. One that won’t put me at odds with my grandfather as soon as I set foot in New York.” He set aside the water pitcher and his untouched glass. The jet would be initiating descent soon and he wanted to secure an answer from Brianne before they reached their destination.
“How?” She set her drink aside, too, curious.
Unsuspecting.
“I could do what the rest of my brothers have done.” He watched her carefully. “I could marry.”
Her eyes went wide, jaw dropping. “Seriously?” Then she shook her head, as if none of what he’d said made any sense. “I thought you said you would never marry again?”
That had been before he acknowledged the danger of Theresa deciding she wanted to revisit the custody terms they’d already settled upon legally. Yes, she’d been glad to give him full custody at the time of their divorce. Grateful, even. But if she suddenly decided it would be a marketing hook for her career to have a baby in tow, might she try to convince a judge to overturn the agreement? As much as Gabe wanted Jason to know his birth mother, he wouldn’t allow it to happen at the expense of a stable home. Being married could give Gabe an extra edge legally.
Not that he would complicate matters with Brianne by dragging all that up.
“This marriage would be very different,” he said instead. “A practical arrangement to serve a particular need.” He meant that. But damn. As soon as he’d spoken the words, his brain conjured very different practical needs that might be served if he wed in name only.
And had Brianne in his bed.
“A marriage of convenience?” The words came out on a horrified half whisper almost drowned out by the drone of the plane’s engines.
He’d managed to scandalize her. Not quite what he was going for. So he concentrated on laying out the terms the same way he’d sketch out a plan for a building, helping her to see the final product before she dressed it up with landscaping.
“A legal union for twelve months and a day. Just long enough to ensure Jason can inherit his share of the McNeill legacy.” He studied her, surprised she hadn’t made the connection yet about where this was headed. About her role in it. But he knew she felt the spark of attraction that he did, even if she ignored it as studiously as he had.
He needed to get past that careful facade now. Acknowledge the heat for what it was—a sensual connection that could make the next twelve months incredibly rewarding for both of them. Reaching across the leather armrest between them, Gabe took her hands in his. Her skin was cool to the touch. The pale pink paint on her short nails shone under the dome light.
“Brianne.” He slid his thumbs over the insides of her palms, stroking light circles there before he met her dark gaze again. “I want you to marry me.”
* * *
Breathless, Brianne felt mesmerized by the man and the moment. The proposal was so ludicrous, so impossible, it was like one of those delicious dreams where she knew she was dreaming but didn’t want to wake up. Because in a dream, a woman could explore forbidden things like a sexy attraction to her wealthy, gorgeous boss. In that moment between waking and sleeping, there was no harm in feeling that tingle of hot awareness down both thighs. Along the lower spine.
In her breasts.
The simple stroke of Gabe’s hands had that same effect on her. But unfortunately, Brianne was not dreaming. She needed to wake up and put a stop to all this right now before things ventured into even more forbidden territory.
She needed her job, now more than ever. Too much to risk a misstep with Gabe, no matter how much she wanted to run her lips along his whisker-rough jaw and inhale the woodsy cedar scent of him.
“Very funny.” She tugged her hands out from between his, tucking them between her knees. That way, she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him back. “I can see where marrying your gardener would be a nice, in-your-face gesture to your megarich grandfather, but I’m sure you’ll come up with something better than that.”
“I’m not joking.” Gabe’s voice was even, his expression grave. “My back’s against a wall with Malcolm’s will, and a marriage is the simplest way to ensure my son’s future.”
In that moment, she realized he hadn’t been joking. Which made the proposition all the more unsettling.
“So marry. Fine. I get it.” She knew how much value he placed on giving his son every advantage in life. She admired that about him, but she couldn’t possibly help him. “But you have to know I can’t take part in a scheme like that. There’s far too much for me to lose.”
His gaze narrowed slightly. “You haven’t let me outline the full extent of the plan or what you stand to gain.” He seemed to shift gears, appealing to her on a business level. “Half the reason I want to do this would be for your benefit. If you help me with the marriage, I will extend to you every advantage that comes from being a McNeill in return. That means no more worrying about your grandmother or where she’ll live. As my wife, you’ll have access to the best doctors and round-the-clock nurse aides, if you need help caring for her.”
The possibilities spun in front of her eyes, as she contemplated the way Gabe could wave the wand of his wealth and power over her life and fix things—just like that. It brought into sharp focus what he was offering.
Not just to her. To Nana.
“I couldn’t marry someone for the sake of money.” What kind of person did that make her? She shook her head. “It’s too...bloodless. Not that I have any great romantic plans for my future, but I also never pictured myself heading to the altar for the sake of a hospital bill.”
Shifting positions, she straightened in her seat and placed her feet back on the floor. No more cozy intimacies with this man. It was too risky. Too tempting.
