His Forever Family(25)

Dammit! She wanted to hear what Marcus was about to say. Scowling,  Liberty twisted in his arms to see Erik Jenner paddling toward them on a  surfboard.

Jenner waved and Liberty couldn't help but note that he looked relieved to see them. "Are you two hiding over here?"

Yes, Liberty thought, frowning at him. Why did it have to be Jenner-someone who knew that she was Marcus's assistant?

She was in no mood to have to tell one of the most powerful real estate  moguls in Chicago to shove off. But she would, dammit. Friend of  Marcus's or no.

"Jenner," Marcus said, his voice dropping in register. And just like  that, he was back to being Marcus Warren, Billionaire. "How are the  waves?"

"Lousy. This whole beach is pretty subpar," Jenner said. His casual  tone didn't match the way his eyes were darting between Marcus and  Liberty.

She was still in his arms. And he was in no hurry to set her down.

"I thought she was going to get married in Hawaii," Jenner went on  after a moment's pause. "Better beaches there." When Marcus didn't  reply, Jenner leaned forward and addressed Liberty. "I'm Erik Jenner.  We've met, right?"

"We have. Liberty Reese." Liberty reached over the surfboard to shake his hand.

Jenner's eyes went wide as he said, "Ah," in a long exhalation. "I  didn't recognize you out of your suit." He shot Marcus a knowing look.  "That certainly explains that."                       
       
           



       

Marcus's eyes narrowed in challenge. "Comments?"

"None," Jenner said quickly. "Who the hell am I to judge? But your mother-"

"No," Marcus interrupted. "Don't tell me. I'm sure she's having heart  palpitations or something melodramatic. Hence we're all the way over  here."

"Fair enough." Jenner looked from Liberty to Marcus again. "So."

"So," Marcus echoed.

Liberty floated in Marcus's arms. She didn't know what, if anything,  she was supposed to say right now. Lillibeth and all her vitriol she  could handle. But Jenner was a friend of Marcus's. Guy friendships were  not Liberty's specialty.

Marcus was the one who broke the silence. "Listen, Jenner-do you still need an assistant?"

"I might," he said hesitantly. "Why?"

Liberty looked up at Marcus in surprise. "Why?"

Marcus looked down at her, his eyes full of tenderness. "Things have changed."

"Marcus," she said in a low voice, "what are you doing?"

"Trying to make sure your boss isn't taking advantage of you," he whispered back.

"I thought you told me you couldn't survive without her," Jenner said, his tone cautious.

Marcus grinned at Liberty. "I can't."

She saw then what he was doing and she loved him for it. Anyone else  might have tried to keep her closer-keep her in his office and his bed.  Or anyone with as much money as Marcus had could have easily told her  she could quit her job and stay at home and he'd pay for everything. And  it would be tempting. To be his? To not have to worry about money,  about security?

But that would mean that Liberty would be a kept woman-as long as he  wanted to keep her. That would mean giving up everything she'd fought  for to hope and pray a man would marry her and take her away from her  life.

That would mean she would be no better than her mother, who refused to  save herself on the off chance a prince might do it for her.

That's not who Liberty was. And, God bless him, even though Marcus  didn't know about her mother and her princes and everything Liberty had  done-every lie she'd told-to get where she was today, he knew that she  would always need her job, always need the security it promised.

He didn't need to know about her past. He understood her anyway.

"I have a job open. It's not as an executive assistant, though. That  position was filled. I need an office manager. More responsibility, more  involvement in the business."

"I know someone," Marcus said, still grinning at her. "Great people  skills, amazing at organization. A quick learner." Her cheeks flushed,  but she couldn't help it. "She's got amazing recommendations, too. She's  worked for the best."

Jenner snorted. "Man, you are gone."

In the distance, a gong sounded. An honest-to-God gong. Talk about  pretentious wedding accessories. They all looked up the shoreline.

"Luau," Jenner said. "I guess that means we have to go back and eat a pig."

Hearing the note of resignation in his voice, Liberty looked at him.  Out here, in his swim trunks, sitting astride a surfboard, he didn't  look like the real estate mogul who'd tried to woo her away from Marcus.  He looked like a regular guy-attractive, yes, but there was something  about him that gave her the impression he didn't want to be here any  more than she or Marcus did.

"I guess we do," Marcus agreed. "Hey, can we borrow your board? I promised Liberty."

"I can't swim," she explained when Jenner looked at her. "I hope that's not a job requirement."

Both men laughed at that and some of the melancholy tension dissipated.  "Sure." Jenner slid off the side. "But after we suffer through this,  I'm coming back out. You guys are welcome to join me."

"You're not going to give me and Liberty any crap, are you?" Marcus asked, helping Liberty up onto the board.

Jenner let go and held up his hands in surrender, which made the board  shift underneath Liberty. "I'm not your mother, man." Jenner looked back  up the beach and added, "Someone in this crowd should get what they  actually want."

"We all should." He looked at Liberty. "Ready?"

Ready? For what? To go back and face a mostly hostile crowd who thought  of her as nothing more than a secretary who was trying to snag her boss  right out from under their noses?

No, that wasn't right. Was she ready to go back and stand by Marcus's  side, protecting his flank while he defended her right to exist? Was she  ready to do what it took to protect him-to protect them? Even if that  meant taking a position with Jenner's company?                       
       
           



       

"Yes," she said, trying to paddle without falling over the side of the board. "I am."





Fourteen

When they returned to shore, Lillibeth stayed well clear of them, which  suited Marcus just fine. He and Liberty ate enough of the roast pig to  be polite and then got boards of their own and headed back out into the  ocean. There weren't really any decent waves here but, given how Liberty  squealed as she rode out the smaller waves, Marcus knew this was all  she could handle. He stayed within easy reach of her at all times, but  she fell off her board only twice.

When dusk draped itself over them, he and Liberty sat on their boards,  holding hands as the golden sun dropped below the surface of the waters.  "And I thought sunrise over Lake Michigan was something," she said, her  voice reverential.

"It's beautiful out here," he agreed, stroking his thumb over her  knuckles. "I'm glad we came. It was worth it to share that with you."

She turned a smile back to him, but it faded with the last red streaks  of light as she turned to look at the beach behind them. "I suppose we  have to go in."

"We can stay out," he said because he really didn't want to go back in.  Out here, floating in the ocean with Liberty by his side, he didn't  have to deal with Lillibeth or his mother's guilt or anyone's side-eye  glances.

But he knew that, sooner or later, they'd have to face the reality waiting for him back on the beach.

"Marcus," she said in that teasing tone, "may I remind you for the  fortieth time today that I don't know how to swim? So being in the ocean  after dark seems like a particularly bad idea?"

"Fortieth? Is that all?" He tried to grin, but he knew she was right.

"I've made it through a whole day of not drowning," she quipped. "I'd  hate to ruin my streak at this point. Besides, it's getting colder."

Without realizing it, his gaze dropped to her chest. He could just make  out the stiff peaks of her nipples straining against the wet fabric of  her bikini top. Yeah, they could get out of the water-and skip the  bonfire entirely. "Come on," he replied. "But we don't need to hang out.  They're all just going to get drunk anyway. More drunk," he corrected  himself.

"I'd rather be in the hut with you," she said, catching his eye and giving him a sly smile.

He laughed. He wouldn't necessarily call it a hut. It was a cabin-a  rustic cabin. Three walls, a bed, a small bathroom and expansive views  of the ocean-and that was it. There wasn't even a shower-that was up at  the big house, where most of the wedding party and the less intrepid  guests were staying, including his parents. The estate had a few of  these small cabins scattered around, complete with thatched roofs and  open views of the ocean.