Beauty and the Bachelor(37)

And it had consumed.

His childhood. His vision. His integrity.

His marriage.

The woman he loved.

He set the glass on the desk with a hard thunk and scrubbed his palms  over his face, stubble from his unshaven jaw scraping over his skin.

It'd been the seeds of love-planted when she'd kissed his scar, listened  to his ugly history and accepted it, gave her body so freely and  without inhibition to him-that had scared the hell out of him.

Son of a bitch. How could he have been such a fool?

So obsessed with revenge, he'd lied to her, betrayed her. So terrified  he'd end up like his father-weak and broken by love-he'd pushed her  away, rejected her. So blind to his own guilt and grief, he'd lashed  out, seeking to lay blame, and destroying her trust in the process.

And the entire time, he'd missed one important, blaring, obvious truth.

He and Sydney weren't his parents. She wasn't selfish or narcissistic,  concerned with her own pleasure and desires. He wasn't his father,  needy, defeated, also so self-centered that he abandoned the one person  who needed him most. He couldn't imagine inflicting such suffering on  someone he loved-and he couldn't imagine Sydney allowing him to sink to  that depth. She made him stronger. Wiser. Better.

And he didn't want to spend another day without her.

He rose from his chair and rounded his desk, mind churning.

"'Bout damn time." Aiden grinned, shooting from his seat as well. "What are you going to do?"

"Find my wife."

"Welcome back, Luke." Aiden clapped him on the shoulder. "Can I offer you one piece of advice, though?"

"What?" Lucas strode past him, headed for the door.

"Wash first."





Chapter Twenty-One


Sydney climbed the steps to her parents' Beacon Hill home, keeping her  head ducked as she wedged through the throng of reporters camped on the  sidewalk and street. Nearly a week had passed since the news about her  father's financial fraud broke, and the media frenzy hadn't abated in  the least.         

     



 

"Sydney, did you know your father was stealing from his company?"

"Sydney, over here! Over here!"

"Sydney, is it true Lucas Oliver left you once he found out about your father?"

She detested how the reporters used her first name with such  familiarity. As if they were friends. As if they had a right to her  answers and feelings. Especially regarding her family. And her husband.  The husband she hadn't seen in five days, two hours, and some-odd  minutes. She could ignore the reporters, but she couldn't dismiss the  hollow pit that had leased space inside her since then.

God, please don't let me walk into another ambush.

Her parents knew about her leaving Lucas's house-as, apparently, did the  media. She cringed, hating that her personal relationship and hurts  were fodder for the national news stations as well as the society  columns. If this request to visit Casa Blake entailed another round of  Operation Tyler, it would be a short visit. Yes, Lucas had hurt her with  his disbelief and accusations about Tyler, as well as his mistrust and  duplicity regarding her father. And yes, she'd been staying with  Yolanda, the youth center director willingly offering her guest bedroom  to Sydney while she figured everything out.

But one thing she didn't have to reconsider or puzzle over: she loved  Lucas. With every fiber of her being, with every bit of her soul. She  loved him. And since he'd appeared in her life, she'd grown stronger,  more self-confident. Sure of her worth and value. No one had ever fought  for him. Not his mother. Not his father. And she would have-would've  been willing and proud to be his champion-if he'd let her. If he'd  trusted her. If he'd been honest.

She loved Lucas-God, she loved him. But she wouldn't consign herself to  the same marriage she'd witnessed growing up. She deserved more than  that. He deserved more.

But with her father's arrest, she hadn't had time to see or talk to  Lucas in the days since she'd left. Her mother hadn't understood, hadn't  yet grasped that her husband had committed a crime and faced jail time  and stiff fines. He might be home now on a two-million-dollar bond, but  the chances were her father would serve time. Still, he was her father,  she loved him, and she would stand by him.

The front door opened as soon as she approached it. She smiled a  thank-you at Maddie and stripped off her coat. After handing it to the  housekeeper, she headed down the hall toward her father's study, where  he could usually be found when home. Rapping a perfunctory knock on the  door, she pushed it open.

"Hi, Dad. I'm sorry I was held up-"

She skidded to a halt just inside the room, shock stealing her breath and voice.

Lucas.

He rose from the couch, and she stared at him, hungry and aching. God,  she'd missed him. The silky sweep of his hair against his jaw. The lean  face with its patrician angles and planes. The vivid green-blue eyes and  the cherished survivor's scar. And the tall, rangy body that spooned  around her at night, powerful and protective. Her fingers itched with  the need to touch him, caress him. She clenched her fists, the nails  digging into her palms.

"Sydney," her father greeted, also standing from the chair flanking the  sofa and waving her farther inside the room. "Come sit down. We were  waiting for you."

Jerking her starved gaze from Lucas, she crossed the room and kissed her  father's cheek before settling on the other end of the couch.

Jason lowered to his chair, and after several silent moments, leaned  forward and sighed. "Sydney, this is one of the hardest things I have to  admit, especially to you, my daughter. What the news has been reporting  about me is true. What hasn't been said yet is I turned myself in."

Shock reverberated through her, the vibrations loud and discordant. He'd  turned himself in, not Lucas …  Oh, God. Her accusation and his denial  echoed in her head, rebounding off the sides of her skull, growing  louder with each pass. Yes, he'd lied about leaving her father's company  alone, but he hadn't gone to the authorities …

"The guilt had been weighing on me for two years," Jason continued,  breaking into her self-recriminations. "I could no longer go on living  as a fraud. It ate at me, coming home and facing you and your mother,  knowing I was basically a criminal. Still, the shame isn't what  ultimately made me go to the FBI." Jason glanced at Lucas, who hadn't  uttered a word since she'd entered the room, before he returned his  attention to her. Weariness etched lines in his face, and while only a  matter of days had passed since his confession, he seemed years older.  "Since I met Lucas, something about him had bothered me. Only after the  wedding did it click. He resembles his father, Robert Ellison."         

     



 

She risked a peek at Lucas, worried that just the mention of his  father's name on Jason's lips would send him into a fury. But Lucas  remained as still as a statue, his expression indecipherable.

"I'd always wondered what had happened to Robert's son," Jason murmured.  "And after the wedding, Terry and I did some digging-some really hard  digging. It took a while and a lot of hours from our investigator, but  we discovered he'd reinvented himself as Lucas Oliver, the man my  daughter decided to marry out of the blue after one date. The pieces  came together quickly after that. Your conversation with Terry about the  company, your sudden decision to marry. You did it for me. To protect  me."

Jason's face twisted in pain, corresponding with the wrench in her  chest. "Sydney, I've done things in my life that I'm not proud of. Many  regrettable things," he whispered, and she wondered if he was thinking  about the man he'd once called a best friend. "But it would have been  unforgivable if I had allowed you to pay for my crime, my sin. So I  turned myself in to the FBI so you could be free. We-this family,  you-have suffered so much loss. I won't have you endure one more moment  of it. And I'm sorry that you've had to do so for me, and from me, in  the past and now." He held his hands out, palms up, and stared down at  them before switching his tired, sad regard to her. "Honey, your  sacrifice made me realize I had to be better, to do better. But it also  made me acknowledge that I couldn't be all bad, because I managed to  raise a fine, selfless woman like you. Sydney, you deserve a life filled  with happiness. You deserve love."

Tears stung her eyes even as shock froze her to the couch cushion. He'd sacrificed for her. For her future.

"Dad, I-" She stuttered, shook her head. "Thank you," she finally said, voice hoarse.

"No, Sydney. Thank you. You, your brother. You two were and are the best  of your mother and me. I shouldn't have let my grief over losing Jay  make me forget what I still had in you. I wasted so much time. And now … "  Clearing his throat, Jason rose, clearly thinking about the inevitable  prison stint that would steal even more time away from his broken  family. "Now, if you two will excuse me," Jason murmured, then with a  long glance in Lucas's direction, exited the study, leaving her and  Lucas alone. Stunned, she stared at the closed door for several seconds  before returning to Lucas.