Black Widow Bride (14 page)

“Shh.” Damon was beside her in a flash. Pulling her into his arms, he leaned back against the padded headboard, cradling her.

“Aaron, James—both dead.”

She sounded utterly desolate.

“Hush,” he repeated, at a loss of how to resolve this. How could it be that a wealthy man, a man responsible for the livelihoods of thousands, a man who prided himself on his control and who was admired as a business leader, a negotiator, a solution maker, didn’t know how to deal with the grief of the woman in his arms?

“Aaron, then James and then Fliss, too. Everyone I love dies.” She shuddered. His body vibrated with the force of it. “Yesterday T.J. nearly died, too.”

She wanted him to believe she’d loved Aaron? And James? Perhaps in her own fashion she had. And what about Savvas? Perhaps she wasn’t a woman who could only have one great love, as his mother had.

He tried to tell himself none of it mattered. But it did. It mattered very much. He desired her—wanted her with an endless yearning—even if he had to slay the shadows of a whole slew of ghosts in her past. Rebecca was the woman she was today precisely because of the relationships that had shaped her. Relationships with other men. They were part of her. If he wanted to keep her, he’d have to live with that, accept it, or he’d have no peace. He’d be torn apart every time he held her, made love to her.

She was still weeping, great tearing sobs that pierced him to the soul. He held her tightly. Tried to think of something to say that might help her deal with the loss of this…James. The loss of her husband.

Suddenly he found it. “When my father died, I was furious with him for leaving us so suddenly. It hurt so much, too. I didn’t know what was worse—the pain or the rage.” It was true. He’d felt deserted by his father. The father who’d been like a god to him. All-powerful. Above death. Damon stroked Rebecca’s hair. “But the pain passes. And for you it will, too. You’re strong, the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

This time it was Rebecca who pulled away. He tried to hold her, but she wriggled until she’d put distance between them. Turning, she met his gaze, and he flinched at the bleak despair he saw there.

“James wasn’t my lover. He was my brother.”

The revelation struck him like a blow. His breath caught. “I didn’t know you had a brother.” But instantly the pressure that had been building inside him deflated.

James was not her lover.

“We were put in foster care but not together, not since I was ten. But we kept in touch. James grew wild, a real rebel. He went off the tracks for a while. Then later there was a girl…”

“There always is,” he said wryly.

“They fell in love. But she was scared, scared of the wildness in him. Insecurity and fear drove her away. James was devastated. He pulled himself together. They found each other. But then…he felt ill, tired. We thought he had the flu.” She fell silent and shot him an odd glance. Then she swallowed. “James was diagnosed with cancer.”

Damon had a funny feeling that hadn’t been what she had been about to say. But he wasn’t about to challenge her, not now. Not while her renewed pain was so fresh.

“Come. Let me hold you.”

She snuggled against him. “This is so weird. All my life I’d been the strong one. The rock Fliss clung to, the person who fought to get James help, the one who held them when they cried, hugged them when they got lonely. But there was no one to hug me.”

“What about Felicity?”

She shrugged. “Fliss was needy. I’m not going to say more. I loved her. She loved me.”

“But she was draining, too,” he said slowly.

“Yes.”

“What about James—he was your brother. Didn’t he look after you?”

She sighed. “I told you, we were separated. And he got in with the wrong crowd.”

Damon shook his head, wishing he was hearing something different.

“Drugs.” Rebecca sighed. “He got into drugs. He was in a downward spiral.”

“So he was needy, too.”

“Kind of. But his foster parents had a younger teen. They didn’t want him influenced by James.”

“And so…?” he prompted.

“I convinced his foster parents to get him help. It took two years, quite a bit of money—some of which I had to pay—and he cleaned up his act. I was working by then, for Aaron.”

She stared past him with unseeing eyes, the sorrow reflecting only the ghosts of the past. Damon’s throat tightened. He pressed a kiss meant to comfort on top of her head.

“So that’s how you met.”

She nodded. “He asked me out. I said no. After all, what would a wealthy guy like him want with me except for the obvious? I was young, not stupid.”

Damon couldn’t believe she’d placed such a low value on herself. But given her upbringing, he imagined her self-esteem would have been rock-bottom. “No, never only that. Aaron Grainger was a wise man.” Far wiser than he had been. “He saw a woman who was intelligent, funny, smart.”

She looked up at him, doubt in her face. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He swallowed. “Now tell me about Grainger.”

“Aaron wouldn’t take no for an answer. He kept asking.”

Of course Grainger had kept asking—she was beautiful…and young. How young? he wondered. “How old were you?”

“Eighteen.”

Eighteen. Grainger deserved to be shot; he’d been at least fifteen years older. “And then…?”

“Fliss wanted to become a chef. She’d done a couple of local cooking courses, but she wanted to train in France. And James was in trouble again—this was before he got his life back together.”

Damon closed his eyes, suspecting what was coming. He remembered how proud he’d been of his wife’s talents, her Cordon Bleu skills. Never had he realised how they’d been financed. And he’d had the gall to tell Rebecca on one occasion that she should take a leaf out of Fliss’s book, to stop trying to be the world’s greatest entrepreneur and get some skills. As Fliss had.

God, how arrogant he’d been!

He wished he could take every thoughtless, cruel comment back.

Rebecca hadn’t uttered a word in her own defence. Hadn’t pointed out she’d been getting things done while those around her clung to her for support. He couldn’t help wondering what else she’d failed to tell him.

“Okay, so you asked Grainger for the money to pay for all that, and he demanded you marry him in return,” he said flatly and he held her tight in his arms.

“No, no.” She gave him another of those strange, unfathomable looks. “I asked Aaron for a loan to pay for Fliss’s plane ticket and Cordon Bleu course. I found a fabulous therapist for James to see. Aaron was fantastic, refused to accept interest on the loan, said I worked hard. I started staying later each day to make up for the interest-free bit. He insisted on taking me to dinner a couple of times. I discovered I liked him.”

“I’m sure you did.” Damon remembered how personable Grainger had been and found himself resenting the manipulation the other man had used. What eighteen-year-old could have resisted that? Let alone one who was starved of attention. Rebecca would’ve had no social life, only debt to work off. She’d have been a pushover.

“It was so nice to have someone else to lean on for a change. I told him about my dream. I wanted to be independent. One day I wanted to start a business of my own. He encouraged me, offered me a loan.”

“Interest-free again?” Damon found he couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.

“No, this time the loan was done through the bank. But he arranged me a good deal with a low interest rate. The day I left his employ and started Dream Occasions he took me out to dinner, ordered champagne—the real French stuff—told me he’d already referred me to a whole lot of friends and colleagues.” She smiled. “I was a little horrified. Then he told me he loved me and asked me if I would marry him.”

She had felt obligated! The man had played Svengali to her Trilby.

“You didn’t have to marry him.”

“I know. But I was nineteen by then.” She shrugged, matter-of-fact. “What do you know at nineteen? I’d always wanted security and Aaron handed it to me. I thought my dreams had come true. It all happened so fast.”

And just as fast she’d been the manhunter of the year, snaring one of Auckland’s most elusive bachelors, establishing a successful business.

The piranhas had been circling.

“There were rumors,” he said slowly.

“About my lover? The drug addict? That was James.”

It made sense.

“And the others?”

“Others?”

“The other lovers?”

She stared at him, her dark eyes flat and unfathomable. “What about them?”

“Tell me about them.” His chest contracted at his demand.

Her face had lost all animation. “I’ve told you before. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“But what about my brother?” Pain like a knife twisted in Damon’s chest. “Surely I deserve to know about him?”

She struggled out of his arms. “I told you—he never was my lover.” Rebecca sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him, her hands hanging loose between her knees.

Damn, he didn’t want her so far away. He wanted her back in his arms. “When? When did you me tell that?”

She turned to look at him. “When you threw it at me that he was T.J.’s father.”

“No,” he said slowly, trying to remember back to the exact words she’d used. “You denied that he was T.J.’s father—you never denied sleeping with him.”

“Oh.”

He could see her thinking about it, myriad thoughts crossing her delicate face.

“Well, I haven’t,” she said finally.

Could he trust her on this?

His heart wanted to. Straightening, Damon caught her chin in his hand and searched her eyes. They were dark, filled with secrets. But she met his gaze without flinching. At last he released her chin.

“You believe me?”

He did. No, he was confused. Hell, he didn’t know what to think anymore.

And there was still the boy. “So who the devil is T.J.’s father?”

“Does it matter?”

Her secrets ate at him. She consumed him. He wanted to know everything about her. Of course it mattered! “I don’t want to one day walk into a room and be faced with the man who fathered your child. Not without warning.”

“Trust me,” she said. “That will never happen.”

Trust her.

Trust her? Just like that?

Damon couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to do just that. It was curiously liberating.

“Afraid?” Damon prompted, coming closer.

Rebecca forced herself to continue, not to run a million miles away. She stared at the strong features she loved so much. “Not long ago you said I’m the strongest woman you’ve ever known. But I must be the most fearful, too.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “So tell me,” he invited. “What are you afraid of?”

Damon was so confident, so sure of himself. Why had she ever thought that the truth she’d hidden so carefully might hurt him? “Well, there are lots of things. I’m afraid of losing those I love. You know that.”

His gaze softened. Wordlessly he covered her hand with his. His touch was warm and comforting. It gave her the courage to carry on. She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of hurting people, most of all I’m afraid of hurting you.”

“Don’t worry about that. You couldn’t hurt me. I’m tough.” But his eyes turned a shade darker as wariness crept in. “So why don’t you just spit out this big dark secret of yours?”

“Okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut, murmured a prayer and clutched his hand like a lifeline. “T.J. is Fliss’s son. Not mine. I adopted him.”

The silence was total.

Nothing moved. But his hand grew stiff in hers. Rebecca opened her eyes.

Damon dropped her hand and rose slowly to his feet, his face white. Finally his mouth moved. “T.J. is my son?”

“No.”

“I heard you, Rebecca,” Damon accused. Every last vestige of humour had fled. “You said he was Fliss’s son. You kept this from me?”

“I—”

“You what exactly?”

“I wanted to tell you that he’s Fliss’s son.”

“When?”

“I was trying to tell you…” She drew a quick, fortifying breath. “I wanted to tell you before—”

Before we made love. But she couldn’t speak of love. Not while he stood there so pale and angry. Rebecca shut her eyes in frustration.

“You—” He broke off. She flinched and opened her eyes, waiting for the invective to follow. “You robbed me of my son.”

“Stop it!” she yelled. “T.J. is not your son.”

“What?” The bones of his face stood out sharply under his tan. “What do you mean he’s not my son?” He was grappling, searching for words. “But I heard you…you said he was Fliss’s son.” But the massive self-confidence had dwindled. He looked shaken.

“I didn’t want to ever have to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?”

“Fliss…” Her voice trailed off.

“What? What about Felicity? Talk, dammit.”

“Fliss was in love with my brother. He asked her to marry him.”

“James.” His voice was colourless. “Your brother. He’d recovered from his addiction, hadn’t he? So why the hell didn’t she marry him if everything was so damned perfect in Eden?”

“Because she was insecure. You have to understand. Fliss lost her parents when she was nine. She was terrified of change. She wanted security above all else. James’s cancer horrified her. She couldn’t stand beside him and watch him die. And then she met you.”

He folded his arms, closing himself off from her. “You’re telling me I was her meal ticket?”

“Oh, no, no. It went much deeper than that. You’re more than simply a rich billionaire.” Was she getting through to him? Or was she wasting her time? “You’re strong, confident, respected. Fliss craved all that. Nothing was ever going to go wrong with you around.”

“But it did. She left me after barely six weeks of marriage. Without a word of explanation she upped and left with you. No sooner was the honeymoon over and the bride fled.”

He’d hated that, Rebecca realised. He must have thought himself the laughingstock of the city.

He was glaring down at her now. “Did you and Fliss laugh yourselves silly when you read the papers? Did you see what they said about me? They wondered what kind of monster I turned into after dark.”

“No,” she said slowly. “I didn’t know. We didn’t read the papers. James…the cancer was spreading. Losing Fliss had jolted him. He’d decided to try radiation. I came to tell Fliss. The only reason Fliss left you was because James wanted to see her before the radiation. He was terrified of the treatment. I think Fliss grew up very quickly right then. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand anymore. He loved her, he needed her.”

Damon had grown fuzzy in front of her. The whole room blurred. Rebecca blinked. A hot tear splashed down her cheek. Impatiently she smeared it away.

“And she went?”

“Yes. I only meant her to go for a day. James was here, in Auckland, for a final consultation before the treatment started. But once she saw him—” Rebecca broke off. How could she explain how Fliss had felt?

Fliss had felt terrible about abandoning James, about betraying him by marrying another man while she still loved him. There’d been guilt, too, that she hadn’t stood by James while he came to terms with his diagnosis. Fliss had faced the fact that she could no longer run, that she wanted to spend whatever time he had left at his side. Yes, James had cancer, but there was a slim chance that he might survive. This time she’d chosen to betray Damon and her marriage vows.

“In the days before the treatment she stayed with James in my apartment. After the radiation—” Rebecca swallowed “—they discovered she was pregnant. It was like a miracle.”

“But she was still my wife,” Damon growled.

“That was the only thing that put a damper on their happiness. They’d have to wait the legally required two years before Fliss could divorce you. James was scared he’d be dead by then. So they decided to live each day to the fullest. James was convinced the baby was a sign that he would make it. But six months later the cancer was back. This time the doctors weren’t as optimistic. But James and Fliss wouldn’t accept it. They thought James would pull through.”

Except they had both died. James had been having a good week. The baby was due soon. He’d agreed to attend a party in his honour, celebrating his temporary reprieve and their baby’s imminent birth. Fliss had been blooming and James had so desperately wanted to live. For Fliss. For the baby.

No one had foreseen a car accident. James had been killed instantly. Fliss had held on long enough to speak to Rebecca, to sign a will and an application for a birth certificate…to hold her baby and name him Tyler James. There had been a lot of blood loss, shock, multiple transfusions before she passed away.

Rebecca had walked away with a huge lump of a bruise where the seat belt had restrained her and a massive case of survivor’s guilt.

She started when Damon put his hands on her shoulders.

“And while she was pursuing her future happiness with your brother, she didn’t think to tell me why she’d left? To call? She owed me an explanation.”

She shrugged his hands away and stood. “Your wife was scared you’d be angry. She thought you’d come after her—she planned to tell you then.”

“I don’t think so,” he drawled. “I suspect she hoped you would explain it all for her when I finally turned up. Except I didn’t.”

“No, you served her with a separation agreement instead and washed your hands of her.”

“And gave her a healthy payoff. What happened to that?”

Rebecca raised her chin as a wave of anger swept her. “It formed part of Fliss’s estate. I invested it for T.J. He’ll get it when he turns twenty-five. Sue him then.”

“Laws of prescription aside, I wouldn’t do that to the boy. I don’t need that money.” He considered her, his head tipped to one side, inspecting her as though she were an unfamiliar species. “What really interests me is why Felicity thought she could marry me while she loved someone else.”

Rebecca sighed. “I’ve wondered that myself too many times to count. She didn’t think she and James would work out. Not with James refusing even to talk about his cancer, refusing to discuss radiation and pretending it didn’t exist. Fliss was terrified of being abandoned after his death, I think. I honestly believe she hoped she’d grow to love you.” Rebecca had clung to that hope. That Damon and Fliss’s marriage would work. Only that would make the pain she’d suffered worth it.

“And you?” He was curious, she saw. “What did you think about all this?”

She glanced away. “It wasn’t my decision to make.”

“But you didn’t approve.”

It was a statement, not a question. Surprised, she stared at him. He’d anticipated her reaction. “No. I told her she shouldn’t marry you.”

“You told me that, too.” His mouth twisted. “What else did you tell her?”

“That it wasn’t fair on you, that she was cheating you. But I couldn’t tell you that. Her relationship with my brother wasn’t my secret. So I tried to convince her that both of you would suffer if she didn’t break it off.” Did he finally believe her? It was hard to gauge.

“Pity that neither of us took your advice. Arrogant fool that I was, I thought your motives were suspect. Quite simply I thought you wanted me for yourself. How utterly conceited. I should’ve noticed that the moment I started courting Felicity you never once flirted with me again.”

“Not quite true.” She gave him a sad smile. “Remember the rehearsal, the night before the wedding?”

“When you begged me not to marry Fliss, told me she’d regret it? And when I refused to listen, you threw yourself at me, kissed me. How could I ever forget?”

It had been a life-defining moment for her. She’d told Damon that he couldn’t marry Fliss. He’d stared at her down his impressive nose without deigning to respond, looking at her as if she were trash. Something inside her had snapped. The next thing she knew, her arms had been wrapped around his neck, her body plastered against his. She’d stared at his beautiful, sensuous mouth. Then she’d kissed him. Open-mouthed, with all the passion she could muster. She’d put everything she felt for him into that kiss.

“You did kiss me back,” she said at last.

“Ah, God, how could I not? You were pure sin, pure delight. I couldn’t stop myself. I should have seen sense then. Instead I thought I’d gone mad, tempted by a woman—”

“You despised.”

“Yes,” he said very quietly. “But I lied to myself. Self-preservation. You terrified me.”

“So you pushed me away and told me never to come near Fliss again after the wedding.”

“I seem to remember I called you some vile names. Some of the anger you bore the brunt of was directed at myself. I couldn’t believe I’d kissed you back, that I’d been weak enough to betray Fliss. I’d always considered myself a man of principle.”

And for a heart-stopping second Rebecca wondered if he’d ever be able to forgive himself for that breach of honour. He’d hated the passion, the emotion she aroused in him. Now she could see his abhorrence for what he considered his weakness of character. Would that reckless kiss the night before his wedding come between them now, almost four years later, and drive them apart?

“You were arrogant. She was my best friend and I knew she would do whatever you wanted. I felt betrayed by both of you. You broke my heart. So I flirted with you shamelessly on the dance floor the next day.”

His face became sombre. “I’d wounded you, called you names, treated you like dirt. I deserved everything you dished out. But my question still stands. Apart from those two occasions, you never flirted with me after Fliss and I started to date. Nor were you ever hostile to her.” He paused. “Why was that?”

“I can’t say I didn’t hope that Fliss would come to her senses and remember James. Fliss was like a sister to me. I loved her. My brother loved her, too. How could I hate her or flirt with the man who was interested in her?”

“Even though she snaffled the man you desired? She did it under false pretences, yet you still loved her?”

“Yes, I still loved her.” Rebecca met his frowning gaze squarely. “Even though she married you when she should’ve known better.”

“I admire your loyalty. It’s a pity Felicity didn’t show you the same loyalty.”

“I don’t think she realised…quite what I felt for you.” It was painful to admit.

Damon looked disbelieving.

Rebecca flushed. “I was painfully obvious, wasn’t I? Must’ve been very amusing to you. But I’d never felt that kind of…response to any man. After Aaron, I never thought I’d marry again. Then poof—” she snapped her fingers “—there was this out-of-control yearning.” Her voice shook. “You and me, I thought it was meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.” He touched her cheek. “I was cruel.”

“Yes.” She ducked her head away.

His hand fell to his side. “I judged you.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t defend yourself.”

“If it had been meant to be, I wouldn’t have needed to defend myself.”

A silence followed her words.

He’d turned white under his tan again. “I deserved that. I listened to the rumour mongering of fools. I heard only what I wanted—” He broke off.

“I wasn’t prepared to stoop to counter the rumors.” Rebecca held her head high. “Some of them tried it on with me—”

“And you told them to go to hell?”