Mail Order Stepbrother (13 page)

Reluctantly, she climbed out of bed. Nash had undressed her, leaving her with just her panties. She pulled on a bathrobe, trying not to imagine his hands moving over her skin while she lay there asleep and vulnerable.

“Homemade chili,” Nash said as she walked into the living room.

“What time is it?”

He tugged his cellphone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “A little before ten.”

Melanie groaned as she grabbed her own cellphone and called the hospital to check on Eli. She could feel Nash’s eyes on her, but she turned away, needing to concentrate on something other than the fact that he was there, so dark, handsome and forbidden.

When she hung up, she stood at the counter and watched him season his boiling pot of deliciousness.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He set his spoon down and turned, leaning back against the counter in a casual stance that belied the emotion that darkened his eyes. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

“Nash—“

“It’s not like we’re related by blood.”

“No. But your dad is married to my mom.”

“And it’s not like we were raised together.”

“But you can’t change the reality—“

“My reality is that I love you, and I’m not willing to give you up, no matter what my father threatens to do.” Nash crossed the narrow kitchen and stole her hands before she could move them from the counter. “My father is an intensely ambitious man who sacrificed everything to build his personal empire. If it would have benefitted him in any way, I think he probably would have auctioned off my sister and me to the highest bidder.”

He squeezed her hands, his eyes moving from her palms to her face. “I’m not like him. I’m not going to let the media force me to abandon the one good thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“He has a point, though, Nash. His reputation becomes yours when he’s gone. What will you do when the press crucifies you for this, for our relationship?”

“I’ll survive.”

“And your relationship with your dad? Your sister?”

“I adore my sister, and I would do just about anything for her.” He looked at Melanie, anger playing over his features for a second. “I’ve already done more for her than she will ever know. But there has to come a time when I’m allowed to live my own life the way I want to live it.”

“She told me you took off when your mother died, but your dad tracked you down and talked you into coming home.”

He inclined his head. “He did. He told me if I didn’t come home and resume the helm of Merchand, he was going to fire Robert from his job at the production company. Robert is…he’s something of a never do-…well who lost more jobs than most people gain in a lifetime. Dad hired him to keep him from draining Alyssa’s trust fund when they got married. But he never liked Robert. I have no doubt he would have fired him and left him and Alyssa to their own devices…”

Nash shook his head as he again squeezed Melanie’s hand. “He likes to think he can control everyone around him. It’s not enough to tell his thousands of employees when they can take a break, when they can go on vacation, when they can earn a living wage. He has to control the people he’s supposed to care about. He dictated where Alyssa and I went to school, the friends we were allowed to bring home, the careers we were to pursue. He would have picked Alyssa’s husband if she would have let him. I think her choice of Robert was her way of rebelling against him.

“I won’t let him do that to me anymore.”

“Is that what I am, then?” Melanie asked. “Your rebellion against your father?”

“No.” He touched her face lightly. “You’re my safe place, my escape from that world. You are my muse, my inspiration, my courage. If you hadn’t come along, I might have spent the rest of my life bending to my father’s rule. But now…there is so much I need to tell you.”

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“I know I screwed up by lying to you for as long as I did,” Nash said softly. “Let me take you on this little trip we talked about before everything exploded. Let me show you everything I had planned, and then you decide what you want to do. If you want to walk away…” He brushed his lips against hers, his breath warm and spicy as it washed over her.

“I just hope you won’t.”

Chapter 9

A month later.

Melanie stared at the dual windows on the stick, waiting for the chemical reaction that would tell her if she was pregnant or not to finish. She knew she was supposed to calmly set it on the countertop and wait the prescribed ninety seconds but she couldn’t. She was beginning to realize that she’d never really been a patient woman.

“Hey,” Nash said, knocking on the closed door, “you okay in there?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a sec.”

She grabbed a wad of toilet paper to hide the stick in, biting her lip as she was finally able to read the results. Without pause, she dropped it into the wastebasket, making sure it was covered well enough that he wouldn’t notice.

She stepped out of the bathroom and was greeted by the magnificent sight of Nash standing by the floor to ceiling windows that graced the far side of their hotel room. He was dressed in a tuxedo, the shirt only partially buttoned and the tie hanging loose around his neck.

“How did you ever get ready for these things before me?” she asked as she crossed to him and began fastening the studs that held the front of his shirt closed.

“I usually had my assistant or sister come over and do it.”

“That’s real convenient.”

He shrugged even as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him. “No, this is convenient. That was just a nuisance.”

She smiled, but her hands were shaking and she was having trouble fixing his shirt. She dropped her hands after a minute and shook them out at her sides.

“What’s the matter?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, coming out at your father’s movie premiere…He’s going to hit the roof.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“But Nash—“

“The press will be so focused on the movie. They won’t even catch on until it’s old news.” He lifted her chin gently. “I did learn a few things from running Merchand the last ten years.”

She nodded again. “I just…my mom thinks we should do it one-on-one. And she’s been a therapist for a long time…”

“Trust me, Melanie. I know my father. And I know the media. This
will
work.”

He kissed her gently, whispering, “I love you,” against her lips.

“I love you, too. I just don’t want to be the reason why you and your father never speak to each other again.”

Nash groaned. “My father and I had a complicated relationship before you came along, darlin’, and we will continue to have one long into the future. This is just another blip on the radar, nothing more.” He pushed her back, his eyes moving appreciatively over the black gown she was wearing. “Or maybe we could just trash the whole thing and stay in for the night.”

Melanie smiled, a blush burning her cheeks despite their growing history together. “And you call me insatiable.”

“I’m addicted, babe.” He kissed her once more before pulling away and lifting his jacket off the back of the chair he had lain it over. “But I guess we better go.”

A limo was waiting for them in front of the hotel. Paparazzi waited across the street—held back, thank goodness, by hotel security—their screaming questions background noise as they climbed into the car. There was a bottle of champagne waiting in the small bar and a note from Burton that said “Enjoy”.

“Nice of him,” Nash said, filling two thin flutes.

Melanie waved it away when he offered her one. “I’m too nervous.”

“Maybe it’ll help with that.”

She shook her head, turning to stare out the side window. She had been to Los Angeles a few times, but she had never seen this side of it. The glamorous side. The number of luxury cars on the road around her were overwhelming. She even spotted multiple other limos speeding around them, headed to luxury hotels and five star restaurants. This world…it was hard to get used to the idea that it was now a part of her reality.

It made her miss her little apartment in Dallas.

Not that she lived there anymore.

Nash took her hand and slid closer to her. “Don’t be nervous. Just stay close to me and let me deal with the press.”

“Oh, I was planning on it.”

He chuckled even as he caressed her bare arm, causing a group of goose bumps to make an appearance.

They arrived at the theater sooner than Melanie would have liked. Thankfully there was a long line of cars ahead of them. They waited nearly twenty minutes, twenty minutes to allow the butterflies to grow bigger and stronger in her belly. It wasn’t really the press and the stars and the screaming fans that worried her. It was the announcement Nash planned to make that was essentially laughing in his father’s face.

She felt caught in the middle. Not only would this likely cause a rift between Nash and his father, but it could cause trouble between her mother and her new husband, especially when he learned that Amanda had known almost from the beginning. And it was all because of her.

She couldn’t shake the conviction that this was a mistake.

“Nash…”

But it was too late.

The side door of the limo was wrenched open and a hand reached inside to help her out. Melanie turned once she was on the red carpet and watched the flashes on the many, many cameras around them go off almost all at once as Nash stepped onto the carpet. He immediately reached for her, drawing her tight against his side and whispering, “Smile.”

She tried, plastering a smile on her face that she hoped looked more genuine than it felt. They made their way slowly, Alyssa and her husband, Robert, not far ahead of them who were, in turn, behind a well-known actor and his model girlfriend. Voices screamed out questions, but Melanie couldn’t really understand one from the other. Nash waved to the crowd held back by ropes and security guards, his name on more lips than Melanie would have imagined. As CEO of Merchand, he was something of a public figure. As the only son of Burton Collins and as handsome as he was, he was something of a celebrity. He had warned Melanie, but this was the first time she was able to witness the full reality

A reporter being followed around by a burly guy holding a large television camera approached them. “This is Burt Collins, son of the movie producer, Burton Collins. Mr. Collins, have you seen the film yet?”

Nash smiled at the pretty reporter. “No Susan, I haven’t. But I know from experience that it will likely be worth watching.”

“You’re not just saying that because your father made the film?” The reporter smiled, a little flirt in her voice.

“Of course not. I’m not biased in any way.”

Nash laughed and the reporter joined in. It was then that she seemed to notice Melanie, who was still clinging to Nash’s hand. She seemed a little confused, as though she recognized Melanie but couldn’t remember from where.

“Who’s your date, Mr. Collins?” she asked. “I’m sure America is dying to know.”

This was it. Melanie’s heart jumped into her throat even as Nash pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “It’s going to be okay.” Then he turned to the camera with a big smile and said, “This, Susan, is my beautiful wife, Dr. Melanie Collins.”

“Wife?” The woman’s eyebrows rose so high that they nearly disappeared in her low hairline. “You’re married?”

“Yes. For nearly a month now.”

“How did you manage to keep that secret? You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in the country—“

“Not anymore.”

The reporter laughed, but Melanie could see the wheels spinning in her head. But Nash didn’t give her a chance to ask any more questions. Instead, he pulled Melanie away, moving on to the next reporter with the next camera.

Word spread like wildfire. Melanie could see people pointing at them, leaning over to whisper in each other’s ears. Alyssa turned back several times, a question mark written in the lines on her face. By the time they got to the doors of the theater, word had reached Burton. He was waiting just inside the lobby.

“What the hell!” he growled as he gestured for them to follow him into a small, side room. Once the doors were closed and the noise of the reporters and the din of the premiere attendees had shut off, he spun on Nash. “What the hell are you doing? Why did you bring her here? And what are you telling those damn reporters?”

“The truth.”

“And that is?”

Nash studied his father’s face for a long moment. “Does it matter what the truth is? Are you going to hear it?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you never hear a damn thing I’ve ever said. It means that you’ve never cared about what I want, what I need. It means that I’m tired of letting you walk all over me.”

“This is not the time or the place for you to have a temper tantrum, Burt.”

“My name is Nash. My friends have always called me Nash. My wife calls me Nash.”

“Your wife?” Burton stared at Nash for a long second before his gaze shifted to Melanie. “Was this your idea?”

Melanie started to speak, but Nash moved between them, pointing a finger at his father’s chest. “This isn’t about her. This is about us.”

Burton focused on his son again. “Then explain it to me, Nash,” he said, drawing out the syllable of his name until it sounded like a slur. “Tell me what this is all about.”

“This about you and your narrow focus. It’s about you choosing your ambition over everything else. And it’s about you trying to run my damn life since I was old enough to speak.”

“I’m your father. I was only trying to protect you, to give you a good life.”

“By forcing me to watch my mother drink herself to death?”

A heavy silence fell between them. They stared at each other, neither moving, neither blinking. Burton was the first to turn away, distracted by the sound of Alyssa and Amanda walking into the room. He gestured to them to stay put, keeping them on the other side of the room.

“I know you’re angry with me,” Burton said slowly, his gaze coming back to Nash. “I know what happened with your mother…it was a difficult situation. And I ran from it for a long time. I thought…” Burton shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought. But your mother had a problem. Nothing I could have done would have changed that.”