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Authors: Susan Crosby

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The Groom's Revenge (6 page)

BOOK: The Groom's Revenge
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She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Don’t you? You seem like a
list
kind of person”
“I don’t shop.”
“Never?”
“I don’t grocery shop,” he clarified as they walked toward his car. “I lease the penthouse of a hotel in the Silicon Valley near my office. I’ve never used my kitchen except for cleaning up after eating takeout.”
He couldn’t decipher her expression. “What?” he asked.
“If I’d tried to imagine how you lived, I never would’ve come close. I figured you would have a mansion or something, with everything operated electronically by some lights-flashing, computer-brain nerve center. A few servants, maybe. Gardeners. You know, a life
style,
not just a life.”
“What would one person do with all that? The hotel takes care of the cleaning. I eat out most of the time or order room service. And except for a computer in my home office, I avoid computerizing anything. It’s too consuming.”
“Meaning, you like the simple life?” she asked as he unlocked the car.
“Well, my definition of simple may differ from yours. Or from anyone else’s, for that matter. But complications frustrate me. It’s enough running the company while still designing software. This week has been like a vacation, even though I’ve also worked.” He shut her door, then walked around the car and climbed in.
“If I didn’t like my job, I would quit.”
Gray slid the key into the ignition and started the engine. “It’s not that simple for me.”
“But it’s not impossible?”
Mollie waited as he considered the question. He seemed to forget the car was running. He seemed to forget
her.
After a minute she touched his arm. He jerked back, startling her.
“You left the planet. Is this how you get when you think hard about something?”
He backed the car out of the parking space. “If you’re looking for someone to pay attention to you all the time, I’m not your man.”
Cool words and an icy tone, as if he’d been accused all his life of not paying attention. Had he been? A nonconformist forced to conform?
“Actually, I admire the way you can concentrate like that. I’m always thinking about five things at once.” She watched him relax. “Which is why you’ll probably get totally exasperated teaching me the computer.”
“I haven’t yet.”
“Give it time.” She grinned at him. “I know myself. I have a short attention span.”
“You’ve done great, Mollie.”
Because you’re the one teaching me.
Heck, if he’d wanted to teach her how to scuba dive, she would have followed him, mask, flippers and tank into Lake Superior, even though she could barely swim, even though the dark, icy waters of the lake terrified her.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“I don’t know what cosmic phenomenon brought you into my life right now, but I’m grateful for it. I’ve been sad for too long. My mother wouldn’t have liked that.” She leaned across the console and kissed his cheek, wished she could snuggle against him. She needed him. Couldn’t he see that? “Thank you.”
“I wish I’d met her.”
“She was really something. She’d been married to a man who abused her. It took a lot for her to escape that life and start over. She had proof of him beating her, so he didn’t fight the divorce. I don’t think he ever learned where she moved. Their divorce was final right before I was born, and she took back her maiden name.”
“I see where you get your strength.”
“She had plenty of it I’m really proud of what she did with her life after that. It was an uphill battle for a long time, though, especially with a baby to provide for all by herself. We were closer than some mothers and daughters, probably, because of what she’d gone through.”
He glanced in her direction. “Are you wary of men because of it?”
“Not at all. One bad apple, you know.”
“She never remarried?”
“No. But she had men friends, relationships that lasted for years, even. And it was a little difficult finding single, compatible men at her age.”
“Yes, I imagine it would be.” Gray had his answer. Mollie believed her mother’s ex-husband was her father. Why hadn’t her mother told her the truth? Karen had been compensated well—
He gripped the steering wheel. Stuart had paid her off. Bought her silence. And Karen Shaw had been an honorable woman who’d kept her end of the bargain, while Stuart had gotten off scot-free.
Mollie watched Gray’s expression close up. She hoped she hadn’t caused it. “I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen tomorrow,” she said. “Do you think your parents will believe we’re having an—a...relationship?”
“Why not?”
“Don’t lovers—” she struggled getting that enormous word out “—act, I don’t know, loverlike?”
“Not in front of my parents.”
“Oh.” Disappointment surged through her. She wanted to show him what he was missing, keeping his distance. “You mean, it’s okay to
be
lovers, but we can’t
act
like we are?”
“Exactly. Displays of affection are reserved for moments of extreme privacy.”
Darn. She’d hoped to get in a little practice with him before they left tomorrow, so they would look right together.
Comfortable with each other. Practice makes perfect—
“Just be yourself,” he said as he parked in front of her shop. “No one can resist that.”
His offhanded compliments were treasured gifts. He’d told her she was beautiful—she could add a star to her nineteenth-birthday candle because of that She was a hard woman to resist, he’d said. Then there were the other gifts he gave without knowing it—her tenth-birthday wish, when she’d wished to take a trip—
anywhere!
—would come true this weekend.
She turned toward him. “Thank you for dinner and for taking me shopping.”
“My pleasure. Do you really think you’ll be ready by six-thirty?”
“That’s what time Tony will come by. If I shower afterward instead of before, I would need another half hour.”
“All right Why don’t I pick you up at seven, and we can stop for breakfast before we head to the airport. We’ll lose two hours going west I don’t want to get there too early in the morning.”
Mollie lifted her bag from the floorboard and into her arms. She set her hand on the door handle, but hesitated. “I don’t think you know just how big of an adventure this is for me, Gray. I can’t thank you enough.”
Gray resisted the how-about-a-good-night-kiss expression in her eyes. Anticipation played with his imagination as he visualized such a kiss. Warmth rushed through his veins, pooled low, then simmered. Attraction hadn’t been part of the plan, but he couldn’t deny it, either. Her wide mouth looked eminently kiss able, her sleek body exceptionally touchable. Only that huge Off-limits sign that was lit in neon above her head stopped him from acting on his desire. He was supposed to avenge her, proect her—not seduce her.
“Don’t stay up all night fretting, Mollie,” he said. “Everything will be fine.”
“You’re not coming up?”
He shook his head. “I need to finish a project.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
Gray waited until she was safely inside her shop, then drove o a small, tidy house on a tree-lined street not far from hers. After grabbing an envelope from the glove compartment, he approached the structure with a resolute stride
“Mr. McGuire,” the silver-haired man who opened the door said, a curious emphasis on the name.
“Mr. Swensen. May I come in?”
Gunnar Swensen shut the door behind Gray but didn’t invite him farther into the house. “You’ve come to a decision?” the nan asked.
Gray passed him the envelope. “Everything checked out.” The man withdrew the bank book from the envelope, then examined the amount written there. “This is more than we discussed.”
“Yes.”
He stared at Gray for a minute, his eyes cautious and weary. “What if you decide to do nothing?”
“That won’t happen.”
“If you are in an accident or become ill suddenly and die—”
“The money is still yours,” Gray interrupted, hearing the strain m his own voice. He headed for the door.
“You are nothing like your father,” Gunnar said.
Gray didn’t suffer from any illusions. He knew he wasn’t universally loved, as his father had been. Respect was the most he could hope for. Still, the knife-sharp words sliced Gray’s heart heatly in two for the second time in his life. “Lucky for you,” he said to the man just before the door shut. He’d needed proof of Mollie’s parentage. Now he had it, hoarded by Gunnar Swen sen all these years.
The unsettling business behind him, he drove out of the city and into the countryside trying to bury the memories surfacing like a meteor shower. In his mind he struggled once again to stuff them back into the dark place they lived.
When that task was done, he returned to his hotel, booted hi computer, then scanned the list of mail awaiting him. He ignored it all except the one from MollieS: “We can’t even hold hand in front of your parents?”
He stared at the screen. A smile pulled at his mouth. Mollie Mollie, Mollie. Picturing her earnest expression, he laughed. But the laughter soon faded, as did the smile. When the truth came out, would she be as irreversibly changed as he had been?
The phone rang. A few minutes later he hung up, satisfied Knight Star Systems had lost out in the bidding for a deal that would have been the biggest in their history, a bid they should have been awarded easily.
Stuart should be fitting the final pieces of the puzzle together Questioning his abilities. Anguishing over having to lay off em ployees. His character was about to be tested—failure tested : man.
Soon, everyone would know Stuart Fortune wasn’t perfect.
Tick-tock, Stuart. Tick...tock.
Six
M
ollie wondered if she was going to survive the roller coaster of a day—the exhilaration of her first plane flight followed by the stomach-plummeting anticipation of meeting Gray’s parents, which was imminent. They had just turned off the main road into a long, imposing driveway, bordered by flower beds and ees and shrubbery.
“Be fearless.”
She smiled at Gray’s quiet words, wishing he would kiss her or luck. She couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for.
“And be yourself,” he added.
“You wouldn’t know it to look at me now,” she said after lowing out a breath, “but I actually do enjoy meeting new people. It’s just that your parents aren’t people.”
He laughed.
“You know what I mean.” Her cheeks heated. Great. Just in me to meet his mother. “If I were coming here on business, s their party planner, I would know how to act. I would have list of questions. But since I’m pretending to be your girlfriend, or whatever you would call it, I’m working without a safet net.”
“My mother will discuss the weather and her garden, an perhaps her charity work. She won’t ask questions that are to personal, in case the answers might be unpleasant. She will be shocked that you live in Minneapolis, but you won’t know from her expression, which won’t change.”
“This all sounds so encouraging.” She could see the house now. Mansion. Whatever the old, beautiful, formal structure was called with its massive columns and interesting facades. “What about your father?”
“He won’t have much to say. He’ll probably take me off t his office to bring me up to speed on what happened while was gone. His position is chairman of the board, by the way McGuire Enterprises is his creation, although it’s changed tn mendously through the years. He started it before he marrie my mother.”
“And now you run it.”
“Right.” Gray parked in front of the house. “Here we are.
The house looked bigger and grander from up close.
No turning back
.
“Our luggage will be taken to our rooms,” he said as the climbed the wide stairs. The front door opened. “Good morning Endicott.”
Endicott? Mollie almost laughed. This was like something o of an old black-and-white movie.
“Mr. McGuire. Welcome home.”
“Thank you. This is Miss Shaw.”
“Miss.”
“Hi.” Mollie stuck out her hand. The man took a few ur settling moments, then shook her hand—once. His uniform looked more like a tuxedo. ,
“Your parents are in the morning room, sir.”
“Thank you.” Gray stepped back, letting Mollie precede him through the door, then directed her along a maze of hallways t the rear of the house. “Are you hyperventilating yet?” he aske quietly as they walked.
She was still contemplating her mistake with the butler, c whatever he was called. She’d figured out too late that shaking hands with a servant probably wasn’t acceptable behavior. “Not quite.”
A man rose from a yellow chintz chair when they entered the room, a tall, slender man with wavy black hair and eyes almost as dark. Mollie glanced at the woman seated beside him, her gaze fixed on Mollie, her neatly styled champagne-colored hair undisturbed by the overhead fan.
“Good morning,” Gray said to them. “This is Mollie Shaw. Mollie, may I present James and Gretchen McGuire.”
Mollie shook hands with each of them, then waited for her cue. When Gray motioned her to a chair, she gladly took a seat. Gray sat nearby without giving his parents a hug or kiss hello. No welcome home. No we’re-so-glad-you’re-back greeting.
“This is a beautiful room, Mrs. McGuire.” The yellow and green surroundings were warm and inviting, even if its occupants weren’t.
“Thank you, Miss Shaw.”
“Oh, please call me Mollie.”
Mrs. McGuire nodded. “Did you have a nice flight?”
“Oh, yes! It was just wonderful. I’ve never flown before. I think I had my nose pressed to the window the whole time. Everything looked so small! Then we could see into everyone’s yards as we came in for a landing. Does everyone have a swimming pool...” She noted the coolness in the air and stopped talking, knowing she’d been prattling out of nervousness.
“Many do, I’m sure. Where do you live?”
“Minneapolis.” Gray was right, Mollie thought. There hadn’t been even the tiniest change in his mother’s expression.
“Mollie owns a flower shop. She designed the basket I sent you.”
“Did you? It was lovely. I’ll give you a tour of my gardens later, if you’d like.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Mollie shifted in her chair.
“I imagine you would like to freshen up a bit after your flight,” Gretchen said. “James and I will be leaving for church shortly. Would you like to attend with us, darling?”
“We have plans, Mother.”
He stood, so Mollie did, as well. Apparently they’d been dismissed, after a conversation shorter than Mollie might have with a browsing customer. No one had even brought up the weather, which was glorious—warm and cloudless.
“We’ll see you at lunch,” Gray said.
“I’ll need to speak with you after,” James McGuire said.
“Of course.”
Mollie followed Gray silently out of the room, down a couple of halls then up some stairs. Everything gleamed, from the highly waxed, wood floors to the enormous chandelier in the entryway at the foot of the sweeping staircase. The place smelled of lemon oil, a soothing balm to Mollie’s frayed nerves, even if the house itself didn’t breathe warmth like Mac and Kelly’s big, beautiful home. Love went a long way toward filling up empty spaces, Mollie decided.
“They put you in the room adjoining mine,” Gray said, opening a door.
“Really? Why?”
“Because I requested it.”
She looked around at the four-poster bed with canopy, the spindly legged lady’s desk and the fine damask prints that curtained the windows and covered the bed. A bouquet of Queen Elizabeth, Peace and Sterling Silver roses welcomed her, the lovely crystal vase centered on a starched, crocheted doily.
“I’m in here.” Gray opened the door connecting their rooms.
She peeked in, discovering a room similar to hers, with fabrics a little more masculine and a sturdier desk. “This wasn’t your room when you were a boy?”
“I’m a guest now. I haven’t lived here for more than ten years.”
“Oh.”
Gray watched her take in everything, watched the light fade from her eyes. He’d tried to warn her, but she probably couldn’t have pictured how different his life had been from hers. Her disappointment was evident. He needed to change that. “I hope you brought shorts with you.”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because you’ll need them where we’re going. Unless you’d rather stay here and rest up from your exhausting journey?”
She smiled at his words, then looked around her room again. “I don’t see my suitcase anywhere.”
“It’s been unpacked for you.”
“Someone put my underwear away? Eeuw. That’s creepy. Not to mention the fact I’ll have to hunt down where everything is.”
He frowned. “I’m so used to people taking care of the details that I don’t think about it anymore.”
“And have those people become invisible to you?”
Which was a very good question—and one he didn’t care to answer. He believed he was more distracted than pretentious, but her chiding tone hit home. “Knock on my door when you’re ready.”
Her eyes gleamed with challenge. “You think it’ll take me longer than you to change?”
“Those are betting words, Mollie Shaw.”
She tugged her blouse free and started unbuttoning from the bottom. “Winner buys hot fudge sundaes.”
His attention was diverted by her fingers as they worked another button free, then another until only the top button remained, her blouse falling open slightly to reveal a hint of pale skin. “Ah, shouldn’t it be the loser who buys?”
“Think about it,” she said, giving him a little shove toward his room.
He didn’t want to think about anything but that sliver of flesh that made his mouth water. She unfastened the top button then, but held the blouse closed. He recalled the bra he’d seen hanging over an open dresser drawer in her apartment. White. Plain. Incredibly sexy. Was that what she wore now?
“You’d better get a move on,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and shimmied her panty hose down and off from under her skirt with her free hand, while holding her blouse shut with other. And there he stood, like a gawking teenager who was seeing a girl undress in front of him for the first time.
What did she think? That he was like a brother or something? A nonsexual human being? A man without needs?
He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “I think I’ll see just how far you’ll go while I’m standing here.”
That stopped her. “How far do you want me to go?”
Not the right answer, he thought, realizing she might accept the dare—although he doubted it. He shut the door in her face.
She made clucking sounds through the wood.
He smiled, because she couldn’t see.
“Ha!” she shouted less than thirty seconds later, following it with a staccato knock. “Hot fudge sundaes are on me!”
“That doesn’t make sense. Loser should pay.”
“I figured it was the only way I could pay for something on this trip.”
He pulled a T-shirt over his head, then intentionally slowed himself down. He’d been hurrying. Racing. “I invited you, Mollie. You’re my guest.”
“Which doesn’t mean that you get to pay for everything. Can I come in? Are you decent?”
“Sure.”
She seemed to burst in, bringing sunshine and laughter and energy. He caught her sweeping his body with an interested gaze, then she stretched out on her stomach on his bed. He debated between sneakers and a pair of soft, casual loafers he could wear without socks, which were probably more practical for where they were headed.
“I do earn a good living, you know,” she said, resting her chin on her folded arms.
Living hand to mouth was a good living? He could argue the point—except that for all his money, he wasn’t nearly as happy as she.
“I don’t think your mother likes me,” she said out of the blue.
A knock on the door saved him from answering. Mollie scampered out of his bedroom and into hers like a vapor trail. Only the quiet click of the latch indicated she’d gone. Shaking his head at her theatrical exit, he opened the hall door. “Mother. I thought you’d already left.”
Gretchen strode past him and into the room. “Is everything to your liking, darling?”
“Yes, of course.” He noticed she put her back to Mollie’s room and kept her voice low.
“And your.. friend? Is she comfortable?”
“I’m sure she is. Although she wouldn’t complain, regardless.”
“Yes, I could see that. She’s a lovely girl. Very fresh.”
Subtle emphasis on the word
girl
, Gray noted. “Yes, she is.”
“And you met in Minneapolis? How did that happen?”
“She was one of the sponsors of a charity ball I attended.” Which was just a little misleading. Mollie hadn’t been there in person, after all. But his mother could make her own assumpt ions from that bit of information.
“You seem to be spending a lot of time there these days.”
“Is there a point to this, Mother?”
Her last face-lift had left her with a permanently inquisitive expression, and looking younger, too, of course.
“Shouldn’t I be curious about the girl my son brings home For me to meet? You’ve never brought an overnight guest before. Why should you? You live barely twenty minutes away.”
“I wanted the two of you to spend some time together. This seemed the easiest way.”
Tension sparked between them. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of marrying that child?”
“Child?” An image popped into his head. Sleek, yet curvy. Long-legged. A fresh, flowery scent sometimes mixed with a hint of magic. Woman. She was all woman.
“You know what I mean.” Gretchen lowered her voice further. “She wouldn’t do.”
“Wouldn’t do what?”
“Don’t play word games with me. She wouldn’t do as wife to a man with your responsibilities. Your status.”
Gray angled closer to his mother so that Mollie couldn’t possibly overhear, even if she had her ear pressed to the door. “I expect you to treat her with respect, Mother. She’s a nice young woman who’s going through a hard time. Her mother died not too long ago, and she’s still grieving. I thought she would enjoy a trip to California. I thought the change of scenery would be good for her.”
“Are you saying you’re not considering marriage with her?
BOOK: The Groom's Revenge
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