Chances Are (24 page)

When he opened it, she swept past him. Once inside, she whirled around. "Not this time, Brandon Rhodes!"

She'd read the paper, Brandon thought. And she was spitting mad. He said a silent prayer even as he coolly raised his eyebrows. "Not this time
what,
Veronique?"

She pushed her hair back from her face and pinned him with her furious gaze. "This time I turn down the dare. There will be no game and no peace. I want you to leave me alone."

"No." He took a step toward her, almost laughing out loud when her mouth dropped.

The man was impossible! "What do you mean, 'no'?"

He took another step, liking that he'd surprised her, liking even better that she was off balance. He would need every edge he could get. "Just what it sounds like—no, I won't leave you alone." Another step, and he was inches from her. "What are you going to do about it?"

Veronique lifted her chin. How dare he challenge her! "Slap an injunction on you, that's what. Or file a harrassment suit. I won't allow you to tell Sissy lies."

He tipped his head, his grin wicked. "I thought you didn't care about your reputation?"

"This is different. And you know it."

"Yeah?" Catching her off guard, Brandon tumbled her into his arms. "Refresh my memory."

Veronique gasped and squirmed against his embrace. "Let me go... what are you doing?"

"What do you think?"

Her heart flew to her throat; she had difficulty talking around it. "I won't stand for this. You think I'm so crazy about you that you can treat me any way you want and I'll forgive you? Or so in love with you that you can deceive me and I'll still fall into your arms, no questions, no explanations? Well, Brandon Rhodes, you have a lot to learn about—"

"Well,
are
you?" he interrupted, trailing his lips across her jaw. "Crazy in love with me?"

She steeled herself to remain stiff in his arms. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Trying to summon her haughtiest tone, she said, "You are the most egotistical man... I can't believe I ever got involved with you... what a fool I was to..." She choked back a sigh as he caught her earlobe between his teeth and nipped, then soothed the spot with his tongue. "Why are you doing this?" she cried, frustrated by his unwillingness to reason, pushed to the breaking point by his touch and her own need. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

"Because I can't." He caught her lips in a quick kiss, retreated, then caught them again. "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been able to leave you alone since our first meeting." Her throat was warm and white. He tasted it with the tip of his tongue. "You feel the same, Veronique. I can tell by the way you melt against me... by the way you shudder under my touch. We're meant to be in one another's arms."

Pain was a living thing inside her. Everything he said was true, but it wasn't enough. Not for her. She needed more—she needed forever. He loosened his arms and she stepped out of them. Eyes swimming with tears, she turned away, not wanting him to see them.

She might as well end it now, Veronique thought, looking at the floor. She would tell him how she felt, talk about marriage, then he would leave her alone. She wouldn't have to worry about Brandon Rhodes's attentions ever again. "What about love?" she asked, her voice husky with tears. "What about total commitment? I didn't have a real family as a child... I want one now. An affair—even a passionately caring one—isn't enough."

Brandon came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. They were tight with tension, and he began gently massaging them. "I planted the story about our engagement with Sissy because I knew you wouldn't let it pass. I had to talk to you... I couldn't believe what a fool I'd been, and—" he took a deep breath "—when I gave Sissy the story, I'd hoped we wouldn't be submitting a retraction."

Veronique turned. "What are you saying?"

He cupped her face in his hands and tenderly stroked her damp cheeks. "I'm asking you to marry me.... I'm saying..." His voice was suddenly rough with emotion. "I'm saying I love you."

Joy burgeoned in her chest. Brandon loved her! He wanted to marry—As suddenly as it had bloomed, the joy withered and died. Veronique almost cried out loud. The seed of doubt had been planted—she didn't wholly believe the thing she wanted most in the world to hear. Did he really love her, or was he protecting himself and the store from future lawsuits?

He saw the denial race into her eyes, and panic came upon him so quickly he was breathless with it. "There's more, I—"

"What about trust, Brandon?" she interrupted, her voice high and thin. "I want you, but I'd never be able to trust you. Even if I said I believed you were going to tell me about my father and Rhodes, there would always be some doubt. It would stand forever between us. I wouldn't be able to live with myself and my doubts, and you would become bitter because you would know that I didn't wholly believe in you."

Brandon pulled her back into his arms. She was stiff and unyielding; he held her anyway. "I had Sebastian draw up some papers," he said softly. "I asked myself how I could prove to you that I'd meant to tell you, that I was the honorable man my father was not. I realized there was only one way. You can have it all, Veronique. Because all I want is you."

Veronique stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You'd give the store away? Why? That's the most illogical thing I've ever heard. If anything, I'm only entitled to half. And even then—"

He placed a finger against her lips. "This isn't about logic, Veronique. It's about love. You make me happy, you make me whole. I want to marry you.... I want us to be together. And I want you to know I'll do anything to make that happen."

Hope ballooned inside her. He was offering to give her everything to prove his love. That which she said he would never do, he was doing. The things she'd thought most important to him—wealth, position, power—he was willing to live without to live with her.

Her heart began drumming in her chest. All those questions he'd asked her about her father, about her feelings... of course! He
had
been planning to tell her! She'd been too blinded by pride and past hurts to see the truth. And because of that, she could have lost him.

Reaching up, she cupped his face with trembling hands. Her lips curved into a tender smile. "How did you know I'd believe you?"

Relief washed over him. For the first time since losing her, he felt as if tomorrow would be filled with more than time. Brandon's smile mirrored hers. "I didn't, but I had to take a chance."

"I like a man who takes chances," she murmured, moving provocatively against him.

"Yeah?" His arms tightened around her.

"Ummm..." She caught his lower lip between her teeth and gently tugged. "But more, I like a man who takes liberties."

Brandon laughed against her lips. "Where have I heard that before?"

"Probably some hussy." Veronique began unbuttoning his shirt. When she reached his waistband, she tugged the shirt out and pushed it off his shoulders. "Probably some woman who did incredible things to your body." She ran her palms over his naked back and her tongue along his shoulders.

"I think you're right." He slipped his hands under her loose-fitting cotton shirt and stroked her satiny skin. "She was the most beautiful, most exciting woman I'd ever known." With one quick jerk, he had the shirt over her head. "I fell in love with her," he murmured, lowering his lips to hers. "There'll never be anyone else."

His mouth met hers—it was like coming home. Tremors raced along her spine; she sighed and deepened her kiss. He was all the adventure, all the fun and excitement she would ever need. Catching his tongue, she melted against him. "Make love to me, Brandon."

"Yes," he murmured. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her up the stairs. "But the slate floor's too cold... too hard."

"I don't care." Threading her fingers through his hair, she smiled up at him.

"But I do." His bedroom was cool and dark. He laid her on the bed, then sank down next to her. With a tenderness he wouldn't have thought himself capable of, he gazed down at her. "I never want you to be uncomfortable... or unhappy... or lonely."

"How could I be if I'm with you?" She held out her arms. "Come here..."

Soon words were no longer possible as they moved together, unable to deny or prolong their passion. As she reached the peak and crested it, Veronique cried out her love. The sweetest moment of her life came when he whispered it back.

Long, lazy moments passed. Flesh cooled, hearts slowed. Veronique sighed and stretched. "Brandon?"

He trailed a finger over her damp belly. "Hmm?"

"What possessed you to plant that first blurb in Sissy's column? How did you know I'd take the bait?"

"Has lovemaking made you light-headed?" he teased. "I didn't plant that, you did."

Veronique lifted on her elbow to stare down at him. "Are you saying that you didn't give Sissy that story?" When he nodded, she frowned thoughtfully. "If you didn't and I didn't,
who
did?"

Brandon laughed and rolled her on top of him. "Who cares?"

She laughed with him and nuzzled his throat. "Well, I for one would like to say thank you. Without that blurb, we might not be here."

Brandon tightened his arms possessively around her. "You're right. Thanks, whoever," he whispered a second before his lips covered hers.

Epilogue

Sunlight streamed through the cathedral's stained-glass windows, dappling the interior in warm, colored light. The strains of jazz drifted in from outside the church's massive doors and mixed with the murmured vows of the man and woman at the altar.

The old man stood alone at the back of the church. The light blue suit he wore looked as fresh and crisp as it had weeks ago. He looked down at the finely woven fabric and smiled—it
was
the suit he would have chosen to wear to Brandon's wedding.

Things were as they should be, he thought with satisfaction. Marie Delacroix once again believed in both dreaming and in love. Brandon was happy, in love, having it all. He would never be like his father was—consumed by regret, lonely and bitter.

And Veronique. His eyes filled with tears as he stared at the woman responsible for Brandon's bright future, the woman who would make Brandon himself a father. She was strong, giving, filled with life. And now she had what was rightfully hers—half of Rhodes and her proper place in New Orleans society. He laughed to himself. Not that she cared about either.

As the couple's lips met, his heart swelled with joy for Marie, Brandon and Veronique—but mostly for himself. For the first time in years he felt as if he could go on without feeling strangled by "if onlys," without constantly looking over his shoulder and wishing for another chance. He felt he could be at peace.

He'd started something he could be proud of, something good. Something that would bring new life into the world.

The couple turned, and laughing, started down the aisle. Yes, indeed, the man decided, watching as Brandon stopped in the middle of the church to pull his bride back into his arms for a long leisurely kiss, some things worked out after all. With a whispered goodbye, he turned and walked through the cathedral's massive, closed doors.

The End