Billionaires In Love (Vol. 2): 5 Books Billionaire Romance Bundle (16 page)

Harley

I had dreams about her even when I didn’t know who she was. Dreams that I knew now were a mixture of memory and something else, something angry inside of me.

As I came out of my coma, I dreamed I was in a dress shop with a dark-haired woman I didn’t know. I remembered thinking this woman had betrayed me—even though I couldn’t say if she’d been a friend or a foe. And then again, later, I had the same dream. But this time we were arguing about Xander, about the marriage I hadn’t learned about until the day Xander and I went to get our marriage license.

We did fight about it. Not in a bridal shop. My mind had mixed that up for some reason. But the words had been the same.

“I can’t believe you would betray me that way! Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that? I thought we were friends. You were supposed to be a part of my wedding, for God’s sakes!”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. Xander should have done it.”

“But we worked together all this time—”

“I thought he’d already told you. I thought you were okay with it.”

“Well, you thought too much.”

“It was a lifetime ago, Harley. It’s been over so long that it doesn’t even feel like it was part of this life.”

“But it was. And neither of you felt the need to tell me.”

I remember it clearly now. We were in the gym at the community center. Margaret had just found out about Xander and my separation, and she’d tried to apologize. But I attacked her, accused her of things I didn’t really feel, but thought someone in my position might feel. I was hurt she’d never mentioned it to me, but the blame rested with Xander, not her. I was just trying to keep up my end of the whole charade that Xander and I were performing for everyone.

But it stood out in my mind because, despite Margaret’s words, she didn’t seem all that heartbroken that I’d found out, or that I appeared to blame her for my ignorance.

That was…odd.

Margaret was never easy to figure out. She was complex, one of those people who always seemed calm and collected, but you could sense a whirlpool hidden just under the surface. She admired my work, telling me I could have gallery shows in places like New York and Paris if I wanted, but in the same breath suggesting I take a job at a local university in case my work didn’t stay on top as it should. She would tell me how happy she was that Xander and I were together, but then criticize the way I spoke to him or the things I did for him. She was a ball of contradictions. Either she was my best friend, or she hated me for stealing Xander’s attention from her. Or maybe a little of both. I don’t know.

But I never felt as though I were in danger around her until this very moment.

I was really hoping my memory of that day was just a figment of my imagination.

“Xander,” I said softly, “we need to go.”

He shook his head. “We’re not going anywhere until I know for sure that this isn’t some sort of set up.”

“What are you talking about?” Bonnie demanded.

“Don’t,” I said—even as Xander turned to his mother and grabbed her upper arms.

“We have to talk to Grant.”

“Xander!”

He looked over at me, the wheels spinning in his head. “It’s the only way,” he said finally. “We need all the cards on the table. We need to know who we can trust.”

“But Philip—”

“Who came to the house this morning, Harley?”

I glanced out the doors that opened onto the back porch. Clearly, he’d overheard us. I had suspected, but wasn’t quite sure. But he heard.

“You know someone’s spilling information to the wrong people. And if we keep going forward with this, we’re going to fall right into someone’s trap.” He looked at me again. “That reporter on the red carpet last night? He asked why you didn’t show that day. That suggests he didn’t know what happened to you. But then he called out the address of your accident to Grant to get a reaction out of him.”

“Are you sure it was the same reporter?”

“It would be too much of a coincidence if it wasn’t.”

He was right, of course.

It was my turn to pace the room. I wanted to drag my fingers through my hair, but it was gone, too short to even feel against my fingers—except in the rough bristle that felt like a man’s new beard. I leaned against the wall, thinking about last night, about that man’s words.

Bulbs immediately flashed in our faces as we got out of the car. Someone grabbed my arm and spun me nearly out of Xander’s grip.

“Harley Alistair! Where have you been hiding?”

He grabbed me even as Xander pulled me tight against his side and said, “We’re not answering questions right now.”

But the man pushed the issue.

“You’ve always been open with the press, Harley,” he said. “You promised me an exclusive on your falling out with Margaret Wallace. Did you change your mind?”

“I don’t…”

“Harley, where have you been these last few weeks? When did you get back with Xander Boggs? Weren’t you going home to Texas this month?”

“He said I’d had a falling out with Margaret. Why would he say that?”

Xander turned to me. “What do you mean?”

“Margaret and I fought once, weeks before the accident. But after that, we were civil with each other, even friendly at the few press junkets she asked me to attend. So why would he think we’d had a falling out?”

Xander shook his head, even as the incident played through my mind again, like a tape I could rewind and pause, focus on first this bit, then that.

“He also asked about you and I. Asked why we were back together. Doesn’t that seem like an odd question from someone working with Philip?”

“Maybe it was cover for the other reporters around us.”

“But none of them asked those questions. Someone asked if the wedding was back on, but that was it.”

“And he asked about you going back to Texas.”

Xander seemed worried now, too. More worried than he’d been.

There was clearly something not right here.

“I don’t know what the two of you are up to, but I don’t like it,” Bonnie said.

Xander turned to her and shook her lightly. “What the hell has Grant got us all wrapped up in?”

She just shook her head. She didn’t know any better than we did.

“We have to talk to Grant,” he repeated, as he stepped away from his mother and came to me. “And no more calls to Philip until we figure out who he’s leaking information to.”

“It’s not Philip.”

He touched the side of my face lightly. “How can you say that with everything that’s gone on?”

“Because…”

Because she told me.

But I’d promised I wouldn’t tell him. She wanted him to continue trusting him, and she didn’t think he would if the truth came out.

But wasn’t that the thing here? Wasn’t all of this the result of too many people keeping too many secrets for too long?

“Grant won’t talk to her.”

Bonnie’s voice was verging on hysterics. I almost felt sorry for her. She’d clearly been in love with Grant since she began working for him. And he treated her well, except when he didn’t, which was far too often. They were lovers. She admitted that to me once. Had been since before his divorce from Margaret’s mother. But he’d likely never marry her, and he wouldn’t stop dating the starlets that came and went from his life as if his bedroom door was a revolving one.

I couldn’t understand how she could put up with such a thing. But then I looked at Xander and wondered what I would do if that was all he was willing to share with me.

Who could really judge a woman in love?

“Grant has no choice,” Xander said. “Tell him to come here. Alone.”

Bonnie shook her head. But Xander had had his fill of all this. He charged over to her and shoved his own cellphone into her hand.

“Call him and tell him to come over.”

She only hesitated a moment longer.

Xander

Harley was hiding something from me. I wasn’t sure what it was, and I didn’t like it. But I told myself she wouldn’t do it if she didn’t think it was important.

I watched her pace the porch outside the back doors, the way that boot caused her just the slightest limp. Two months ago, the doctor said she would have a definitive limp if she ever woke up. Her recovery was remarkable, but everything about Harley had always been remarkable.

“How can you be with the woman who might send me to jail?”

“How can you be with the man who got us all into this position in the first place?”

My mom crossed her arms over her chest, a defiant look taking over the attractive features that once made her a very beautiful woman. Now she was tired. A very tired and broken woman.

“I trusted that Grant would do the right thing.”

“And I know that Harley’s only doing what she thinks will protect us all.”

“She almost went to the press with paperwork that shows Grant was working with terrorists. If it didn’t send him to jail, it would have ruined his reputation, his career, and everything he’s worked all his life to build.”

“Would you rather government officials came knocking on his front door and searched his house in front of reporters who had only their own imaginations to fill in the gaps?”

“At least then we could have formulated a way to deal with it.”

I groaned, frustration such a familiar feeling these days that I almost felt like I was welcoming an old friend home. “He’s going to jail, Mom. One way or the other, Grant is going to jail.”

“Do you really think I don’t know that? I do. I just…I’d rather you and Harley have nothing to do with it.”

I pulled her into my arms and held her for a long moment. And then I sighed.

“They came to me a year ago. Said that if I didn’t cooperate, if I didn’t get the information they needed, they would go after you, too.”

She stiffened as she jerked away from me. “You?”

“What was I supposed to do, Mom? They have your signature on dozens of incriminating papers. But they couldn’t get what they really wanted, the paperwork that would identify the men Grant was working with directly and the reason they were buying up all those buildings. They could have moved without my help, but they wanted those papers. And I had them, but then Harley got involved, and she wanted to do this in a way that would protect you and me.”

She shook her head, tears flowing again.

“She was trying to help, Mom. She was afraid Grant would figure out what I was up to—and he almost did!—and that he would do something to stop me, or he would give my name to his clients and let them deal with me. Instead, she stepped into the mess for me. And look what happened.”

“Grant didn’t hurt her.”

“Yeah? But he probably knows who did.”

She shook her head again, but she didn’t argue. She knew I was right.

“If not for Harley, we’d probably all be in jail right now. Or a graveyard.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is. She got her friend, Philip involved. His father is a United States Senator, and he put her in touch with the right federal agents, the people who know what’s going on and could help protect us. They put eyes on all of us and made sure Grant’s clients wouldn’t move against us until we could get the information I’d gotten out of Grant’s office into the right hands. And we were close. I gave her the papers I took from your office, and she managed to get those to the right people. But they wanted more, some dates, things I could pull off his computer with the spyware I put on it.”

“That was you?”

There was wonder in her voice, as though she hadn’t accused me of doing it just a few months ago.

“We had everything. Harley was going to speak to this reporter, show him all we had. He was supposed to be an undercover agent of some sort, someone new. It made me nervous because we’d worked with the same agent every time before. But Philip insisted everything was on the up and up. So I reluctantly agreed. And then Harley…”

“That was the day of her accident?”

“Yeah. It seemed like an accident. People get hit there more often than I like to think about. So I just thought it was a coincidence. But now it’s pretty obvious there was something else going on.”

“How do you know it wasn’t someone you’ve been working with?”

“I don’t. That’s why I’ve distanced us from all of this since the accident. But last night, that reporter—”

“You don’t think he was someone working with the government?”

“How much does Grant know? What’s he been telling his clients?”

My mom’s eyes narrowed. “You think that reporter is one of them, fishing for what you know.”

“And I think he was involved in her accident.”

My mom started to say something, but the doorbell chose that moment to scream from the front of the house.

Grant was here.

I let him in. I expected him to look confused, but he only looked tired. When he saw my mom, he went to her and drew her into his arms. It was the most affection I think I’ve ever seen pass between them in the entire thirty-plus years I’d known him.

“I got a call from a friend. The feds are going to raid the office first thing in the morning.”

“Who told you that?” I demanded.

Grant glanced at me, almost as though I were fly buzzing around his head.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. I need to know how much you know about this situation.”

Grant simply continued to hold my mom. Harley let herself in silently through the back door, stowing the throwaway cellphone in her back pocket. Her eyebrows rose slightly at me, as though she was asking what I thought of the scene unfolding in front of me. I wasn’t sure I had the right to an opinion anymore.

I grabbed her hand as she moved closer and tugged her out into the foyer.

“He says someone told him the feds are going to raid his office tomorrow.”

“That’s what Philip was just telling me.”

“Did you tell Philip about the reporter last night? Or that we’re not meeting with him today?”

Harley looked away and that made me nervous. She was a stubborn woman, and her stubbornness often meant that she wasn’t going to do what I wanted. And that scared the crap out of me since the last time she went against my opinion, she ended up in the hospital.

“Harley…?”

“I think we should go and sound this guy out.”

“But if he’s—”

“We don’t know for sure which side he’s on. And if he’s on ours, the information we have could help your mom.”

“But it they’re going to raid Grant’s office tomorrow, they’ll have most of that information.”

“Most, but not all. You do remember that some of it had been scrubbed of his computer. If you weren’t so brilliant with all this technology stuff…”

“Flattery isn’t going to help your argument.”

“Sure it will.” She reached up and kissed me gently. “I think we should talk to Grant, then go see what this guy has to say.”

“And if he tries to hurt you?”

“You’ll be there. And Philip’s friends are still around.”

I pulled her close to me, the idea of seeing her in another hospital bed made me wish we could go upstairs, lock the bedroom door, and never venture forth again. But I knew this had to happen. And I knew it had to go the way she wanted it to because it was the only thing that made sense. We would never know whom we could trust, so we had to trust ourselves.

And each other.

I pressed her up against the wall and kissed her, letting my lips linger before I slowly began to explore places that should have been so familiar, but weren’t. I don’t think they would ever become too familiar and that was what told me this was the woman I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. If anything happened to her because of all of this…someone would pay.