No Denying You(32)

“Oh my God,” Emma whispered. “She was pregnant? I had no idea. I didn’t . . . She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell anyone. She had lost other pregnancies, but she didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t want anyone to feel bad that she was having problems.” With those words, the tears that Ella had been holding back slid down her cheeks. Emma handed her a tissue. She remembered asking Suzy whether she had received the results yet and she had said no. Now Emma understood why she had seemed evasive. “I’m sorry for blubbering all over you; damn it, I never stop crying now.”

“I think it’s probably normal, and this is upsetting to me, too, so I understand how you feel.”

“Yeah, but at least you’re not over there leaking all over the place,” Ella sobbed. “I accidentally washed Declan’s white T-shirt with my red shirt and turned it pink last night. He laughed and I cried for an hour. He even insisted on wearing it to dinner afterward, which made me cry again because it was just so sweet of him.”

Again, Emma felt a flicker of jealousy at the relationship between Declan Stone and his wife. What was wrong with her today? One of her best friends was in the hospital after losing another baby and all she could do was feel jealous of their other friend’s good fortune? When had she ever been so petty? She couldn’t be happier for Ella and her heart was broken for Suzy.

Was this what love turned you into? Someone who could concentrate only on her own problems and didn’t care about anyone else? Geez, she was starting to feel like an emotional wreck. There was no need for Ella to feel bad about her own emotional displays. Emma was right there with her, only hers were manifested into something of the green variety. Where were all of the things that those damn Hallmark cards promised you? Instead of basking in her feelings, she had turned into an insecure, paranoid, jealous wreck. A shell of her former careful self, it seemed. Sure, Brant’s ex-fiancée moving in with him completely out of the blue was enough to push almost any woman to the edge, but poor Ella hadn’t committed any sins other than being happy. She really needed to get a grip. She had already been caught this week doing a drive-by of the object of her affection’s house—where did it end? Ugh.

She walked around the desk and gave Ella a hug. “I remember Beth not too long ago complaining about crying in McDonald’s when they brought the McRib back, so I think it’s normal. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Caring about people isn’t a crime, so you shouldn’t have to feel like it is.” Yeah, and I need to be more like Ella and stop thinking about myself.

Mark DeSanto, Brant’s ten o’clock appointment, walked in just ahead of Brant. Both she and Ella seemed to take a deep breath as the testosterone level in the room skyrocketed. She heard Ella make an appreciative sigh and she was right there with her. She was surprised when Mark walked over to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Ah, sweet Emma, it’s been too long.”

She laughed. “It’s been what . . . a day?” She saw Brant frowning at them and wanted to stick her tongue out in response.

Mark gave her a sexy grin. “Even a day without seeing your face is too long.” Mark had just turned to say hello to Ella when Brant motioned her impatiently into his office.

“I’m flying to Boston with Mark this morning. Gray is going to be out for a few weeks, so I’m taking over his obligations until then.” He kept his head down as he continued to pack his briefcase. “Things are going to be tight time wise. I’ll probably fly straight from Boston to Dallas instead of coming home for a day.”

Surprised, Emma asked, “When are you going to be back?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Probably the end of next week, but I don’t know for certain. Gray had a full schedule and added to mine, I’ll be traveling a lot in the next month.”

Emma felt her heart fall. “Could I . . . I mean, do you need me to come with you?”

He stopped what he was doing to look at her. “I wish you could, Em, but I need you here. Also, Mark will be with me on this first leg and I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Before she could say anything in response, Mark stepped in the doorway looking at his obviously expensive watch. “My pilot just texted to tell me that he’s ready.”

Impressed despite herself, Emma asked, “You have your own plane?”

Mark nodded. “I take a lot of last-minute trips and I like my privacy. I’d be happy to give you a ride sometime.”

Emma looked at him suspiciously, wondering if there was a double meaning in that offer. From the look on Brant’s face, she didn’t think she was the only one wondering. Brant motioned Mark out with a clipped “Let’s go.” He squeezed Emma’s hand as he passed. “I’ll call you later.” And then he was gone. She stared after him, disappointed. What had she expected really? A sweeping kiss in front of Mark?

Ella stood, jarring Emma from her trance. She felt bad that she had completely forgotten that the other woman was still there. “I’ve got to get back to my desk, but are you free tonight?”

Looking at the door again, Emma sighed and said, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Beth is coming over. Declan is taking Evan to a movie and out to dinner. Nick is taking Henry for dinner with his parents, so it would be just the girls.” Giving her a look full of sympathy, she added, “You look like you need to vent.”

Dropping her head, Emma said, “You have no idea.”





Chapter Twenty


Brant relaxed back in the leather captain’s chair in Mark’s private plane. He looked around the cabin, impressed as always by the excesses of the wealthy. Jason Danvers was a rich man but still flew commercial. Danvers could easily afford to have his own private jet on call, but that wasn’t how Jason operated and Brant respected him for it. The man might close a multimillion-dollar deal one morning and stop to get groceries for his wife on the way home that evening. Brant was wealthy in his own right as well but didn’t live a flashy lifestyle. If there were two things he knew, money made life easier, but it also brought about its share of problems. When you had it, someone else always wanted it. Brant dropped his jacket on the sofa behind him and tried not to imagine how many women had been given more than a plane ride on it.

Mark settled in to the seat across from him, dropping his briefcase on the table in front of him before swiveling around. The plane taxied smoothly down the runway and was soon airborne. No matter how often he flew, Brant never got used to the feeling of his stomach dropping to his feet as the plane climbed.

“So what’s happening with you and the luscious Emma?”

Brant scowled before he could stop himself. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, and I’d appreciate it if you would stop hitting on her.”

Mark grinned, completely unperturbed by his unfriendly tone. “Ah, come on, brother, it’s innocent enough.”

With a grimace, Brant admitted, “It’s . . . complicated right now.”

Mark swirled the liquid in the bottom of the crystal glass he was holding, looking pensive. “It always is when a woman’s involved. Just a word of friendly advice: If you like the girl, then claim her. The next man might not be as nice as I am.”

“Nice? Give me a break, Mark; you and I both know that’s not a word that describes you where women are concerned.”

Mark raised a brow. “And yet there is never a shortage of willing participants. Do you know why?”

Brant waved a hand. “Do tell.”

“It’s because all of the nice guys like you stay safely on the fence, ensuring that there’s never a shortage for bastards like me.”

Brant turned to face the other man, annoyed enough to take the gloves off. “If you can’t be with the one you love . . . get spanked by the one you’re with? Is that saying about accurate?”

“You have no idea,” Mark drawled.

“Oh, I think I do. You know, small towns, people talk. You’re practically a legend.” Brant knew he was taking things too far, but the stress of the last twenty-four hours, coupled with the threat of losing Emma to Mark, was more than he could take. His frustration was boiling over and Mark was an easy target.

“So how does someone get into that sort of thing? Not spanked enough as a child? Spanked too much? I’ve always been curious, so please enlighten me.”

If Brant was expecting an explosion from the other man, he was sorely disappointed. Far from looking angry, Mark seemed greatly amused. He should have remembered that the guy loved nothing better than a good debate. Mark moved his briefcase unhurriedly off the table before propping his legs on it, crossing his feet at the ankles. “It sounds like you’ve given a lot of thought to my . . . lifestyle. As to how it started, pick your cliché, buddy. I’ve got mommy and daddy issues. Fuck—I’ll even throw in some granddaddy issues just for good measure. I don’t know that that means a damn thing, though. I just love women.”

Brant couldn’t contain his smirk. “You mean, you love to tie up women and whip them, don’t you? That’s a little different from showing a girl a good time, isn’t it?”