“We have a wedding tomorrow, rehearsal dinner tonight, there’s so much work to get done.” She bent toward the floor and gathered up his T-shirt, then slipped it over her head, a gesture almost too familiar, and yet the scent of Justin that enveloped her made it worthwhile. She wanted to crawl back into bed, to rest her head in the crook of his arm, to feel him pull her tighter to him and have the morning to make love, but the spell seemed to have broken. The faded light behind the curtains grew brighter. Dad would be up already, and while they didn’t live in the same quarters, most likely he’d know she hadn’t slept at home. There would be no questions of course—she was a grown woman—but there would be looks from those stern eyes that always seemed to say the things to her that Dad rarely said out loud.
Her feet touched the cool floorboards and she pushed her body upward.
“Aubrey?” His voice was rough from sleep.
She turned toward him, hope in her heart that he would ask her to stay, that he would say that he forgave her and that last night wasn’t a fluke, hope that he would repeat all the words he’d wanted to say to her the morning after their night together fifteen years before. She held tight to the silence, learning from the past mistake of blurting out the words that she’d not meant fifteen years before. She’d wanted him, then, to tell her to stay, to be his, but he hadn’t. What a silly young girl she’d been.
“Yes?”
He pressed his lips into a firm line, and his head swiveled toward her. She pushed down a gasp at just how stunningly beautiful the man who lay in the bed beside her was. Shockingly handsome and completely male, entirely male, so very male that her shoulders trembled and her body feel like Jell-O.
“The documents should get here today. I’ll bring them by. For you to sign. Admission of Max’s paternity.”
Her heart fell. Not because she was giving him the piece of Max that was entirely his, but because she’d wanted different words to come from Justin’s lips.
“Of course.” She stood and gathered her hair into a ponytail and wrapped a loose tendril of hair into a circle to hold it back. “I’ll be in the my office most of the day. Or in the dining room preparing for tonight. Find me. I’ll sign them.”
After a swift nod from him, she turned and walked toward the bathroom. Yes, she had much to accomplish today, and one of the most important things was making certain she didn’t let herself get a broken heart.
*
“How goes business in Dubai?” Justin sat at the desk downstairs with his laptop open. He’d showered and shaved. There was fruit, a splendidly prepared frittata, and a fresh carafe of coffee waiting for him when he’d arrived on the first floor. No Aubrey. All traces of her were removed. Her dress, her shoes, even the remnants of the panties that he’d snapped from her body. His sex grew hard with the memory.
“They want more time before we close,” Leo said. It was late in the Arab Emirates, and his brother looked as though he hadn’t been sleeping.
“More time? What the hell for?”
“They say there’s one more vote from the board that needs to take place.”
“But you don’t believe them?”
Leo scrubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “I think they’re stalling. Either waiting for us to panic and offer more money or—”
“Or what?”
“Or there’s another bidder in the mix.”
“What the hell? How can there be another bidder? We have an oral agreement, a contract—”
“Things work a little differently over here, brother. We both know that from the past five deals. My sources are checking it out, but my gut tells me they’re wavering on numbers and then they’ll hit us with their best shot.”
What was a done deal a week ago was now tenuous? “This isn’t good,” Justin said. While Travati Financial was privately held, they still had debt, plus the credit they’d taken on to purchase the two smaller companies for this specific deal—companies with overhead that they’d thought would be immediately put to work once this “done deal” officially closed. “Damn. Thoughts?”
“Working it out, big brother, still working it out. Looks like you’re relaxed though. Is that a T-shirt I see you in? On a workday?”
“Casual Friday.”
Leo laughed.
There was very little casual about Justin. He believed in dressing for success and, to the chagrin of all employees in the New York offices of Travati Financial, had not ever agreed to institute a casual dress code, not even on Fridays.
“See you’re enjoying the luxuries of Kansas.”