The CEO's Accidental Bride (15 page)

Of course, that was ridiculous.

Luckily, that decision was months away.

He glanced at Kaitlin's profile, taking in her pert nose, those gorgeous green eyes, the spray of freckles that had come out in the sun. And, of course, her wild, coconut-scented auburn hair that he buried his face into every chance he got.

At the top of the driveway, he pressed the button to open the garage door, pulling the golf cart inside, unable to shake the feeling that something precious had just ended.

He stepped out and rounded the vehicle. Then he took Kaitlin's hand, leading her to the three steps and the doorway that would take them into the house and the party.

Unable to help himself, he stopped her there, cradled her face in his hands and kissed her thoroughly.

She responded, like she always did, soft lips parted, a light touch of her tongue meshing with his. Her breasts pressed up against his chest, and she came up on her toes to meet him partway. He loved that about her.

His arms tightened around her slender waist.

This wasn't goodbye, he told himself. She worked for him, with him. They'd both be in Manhattan. They would see each other at the office every day.

Hell, they were
married.
She couldn't just run off and disappear from his life. He'd find a way to keep her with him for a long time to come.

She pulled back. “You keep this up, and they're never going to believe we're business colleagues.”

“We're husband and wife,” he said gruffly.

She grinned and playfully swiped her index finger across the tip of his nose. “We're pretty much faking everything here, aren't we, Zach?”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she turned away, skipping up the stairs, opening the door and ending the moment.

He quickly trapped the door with his hand before it could swing shut. Music chimed from the sound system, while chattering voices spilled from the deck into the great room. All the
staff members were working, impeccably dressed and serving drinks or circulating with appetizers.

Zach knew the kitchen would be a hive of activity. He also knew Ginny would be in her element, visiting with guests into the evening until she gave in to exhaustion. He saw Kaitlin heading toward Lindsay on the deck and started after her.

“Zach,” came David's booming voice. “Great to see you at home, son.”

“Welcome back, sir.” Zach shook his hand.

“You remember Kevin O'Connor.” David gestured to a fiftyish gentleman with a three-olive martini in his hand.

“Swiss International Bank,” Zach acknowledged, shaking again, checking for Kaitlin out the corner of his eye.

“Kevin has a client,” David began. “He's out of Hong Kong, and he's got mining interests in Canada and South America.”

“I see,” Zach said, dutifully focusing his attention. Mining companies were massive shippers; ore was both heavy and voluminous. And a Hong Kong client likely had access to the mainland China market. Zach's personal life would have to go on hold for a moment.

The moment turned into half an hour. A drink was put into Zach's hand, and a third man joined them, a friend of Kevin's with an interest in manufacturing.

By the time the conversation wound down, Kaitlin was nowhere to be found. Neither was Lindsay.

He managed to track down Dylan, who was with Ginny, then he was rewarded when he heard Kaitlin's voice from behind him.

“You must be enjoying the party,” she offered breezily to Ginny, who was decked out in chiffon and diamonds, a folded, lace fan in her hand and her dogs at her feet in rhinestone collars.

“And who is this young lady?” Ginny asked in an imperious tone. She leaned toward Kaitlin. “Are you here with my grandson? He's a catch, you know.”

Zach turned in time to see Kaitlin's surprise morph into obvious disappointment.

“I'd stay away from this one,” said Ginny, tapping Zach's arm with the fan. “He's a reprobate and a heartbreaker.”

Kaitlin's eyes clouded to jade.

“Auntie—” Dylan stepped in “—this is Kaitlin Saville and Lindsay Rubin.”

“Pretty,” Ginny acknowledged with a gracious sweep of her fan.

“Kaitlin is my architect,” said Zach.

Ginny looked at him, eyes clouding with puzzlement. “Are you changing the castle? Does Sadie know?”

There was an instant and awkward silence.

Zack had been through this before, about a dozen times so far, but it never got any easier.

He gently took Ginny's hand and lowered his tone. “Aunt Ginny, do you remember that Sadie passed away?”

Ginny drew back warily. Then she gave herself a little shake. “Of
course
I remember. I meant…” Her voice trailed off.

Dylan stepped in again. “Auntie, would you like to dance?”

Ginny snapped him with her fan, seeming to recover. “I'm too old to dance. People my age are dropping like flies.” Her attention turned to Lindsay. “You should dance with my grandson. He has a lot of money.”

Darcie joined the circle, and Zach took the opportunity to whisk Kaitlin away.

“You okay?” he asked as they made their way out onto the deck. The sun had set, and the lights were coming on all over the grounds. The music seemed to swell louder, and the conversation grew more animated as the guests consumed martinis, wine and single malt.

“She didn't remember me at all.” Sadness was clear in Kaitlin's tone as they came to the rail.

“She will,” Zach promised, not sure if he was lying or not. Ginny's early memories were her best. Recent events often escaped her.

“She taught me to bake pie.” Kaitlin's voice was stilted. She leaned her arms on the railing and stared out at the ocean. “Nobody ever taught me to bake before. I was starting to think…”
She paused, then tried a lukewarm smile. “I'm being silly. She's old. Of course she forgets things. You were great.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“How many times have you had to tell her about your grandmother?”

“A few,” Zach admitted. And he was sure that previous one wouldn't be the last. He stared at the lights at his place, wishing they were down there right now.

“Kaitlin?” Ginny's voice surprised Zach. “There you are, dear.” She sidled up to Kaitlin, glancing warily around them, her voice becoming conspiratorial. “I've changed my mind.”

Kaitlin's smile was bright as she blinked away the telltale sheen in her eyes. “You have?”

“That nice girl, Lindsay?”

Kaitlin nodded, and Zach smiled in relief.

“I think she should sleep with Dylan.”

“What?”

Ginny placed a hand on Kaitlin's arm. “Hear me out.” Then she turned and gave Zach a censorious look. “Excuse us please, Zachary. The women would like to talk.”

Zach held his palms up in surrender and backed away.

He circulated through the party a little, and then Dylan caught up with him outside David's study and herded him inside to where they were alone.

Dylan seemed agitated. He crossed to the small bar and poured himself a scotch. “You okay to take Lindsay down with you tonight?”

“No problem.”

Dylan waggled a second, empty glass, raising his brow to Zach in question.

“Sure,” Zach answered, walking farther into the room, the noise of the party fading behind him through the open door.

“I haven't told her yet,” Dylan confessed, handing Zach a crystal tumbler of single malt then taking a sip from his own.

“You need my help?”

Dylan shook his head, moving to the bay window. “She'll be disappointed. At least, I hope she'll be disappointed. But she's
a trouper. She really is, Zach. She's quite the little trouper.” He took another sip.

Zach moved closer. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine. Why?”

Zach had never seen Dylan act this way, not over a woman, not over anything. “Something going on between you and Lindsay? I mean, other than the obvious?”

“What's the obvious?”

Treading on unfamiliar ground, Zach chose his words carefully. “A physical…connection?”

“Oh, yeah. That.”

“But there's more,” Zach guessed.

Dylan shot him a look that questioned his sanity, but Zach had no idea how to interpret it. Was there something serious going on between Dylan and Lindsay? Had he made her angry again?

“I should warn you,” said Zach, stepping into the silence. “Aunt Ginny is out there advising Lindsay to sleep with you.” Dylan stilled.
“What?”

“I assume it's to trap you into marriage. You might want to watch your back.”

“I don't think it's my back that needs watching,” Dylan muttered.

“You don't seem too worried.”

Dylan shrugged.

Zach watched his friend's expression carefully. “Seriously, Dylan. Is there something going on between you two?”

Dylan frowned. “I'm not saying there is.”

“Are you saying there's not?”

Dylan compressed his lips. “What about you and Kaitlin?” he asked, turning the tables.

“Nothing,” Zach lied, perching on the arm of an overstuffed leather chair. He wasn't ready to talk to anybody about his relationship with Kaitlin. He didn't even have it straight in his own mind yet.

“You're sleeping with her,” said Dylan.

Zach shot him a pointed look. “That's just…” In fact, Zach wasn't sure exactly what it was. Somehow his physical attraction
to Kaitlin, their renovation battle and their mock marriage had all meshed together in a way that was well past confusing.

“Sex?” Dylan asked bluntly.

“It's not relevant,” said Zach.

“What about the renovation? Is that relevant? You haven't forgotten why she's here, have you?”

“No, I haven't forgotten why she's here.”

Dylan took another drink. “So, the plan's working?”

“It's going great,” Zach admitted, trying to inject some enthusiasm for how well things were working out for him on that front. “She asked for the Hugo Rosche plans. She's been using them for the past few days. And, well, I think she's getting that Grandma Sadie wasn't progressive and flamboyant. And she's figuring it out for herself, which is exactly what we wanted.”

“So, your devious little scheme is coming together in spades,” Dylan summed up.

“It was
your
devious little scheme.”

“You approved it,” Dylan noted. “You implemented it. And it looks like you'll save yourself a bundle.”

“I did,” Zach agreed. Too bad saving a bundle didn't seem so important anymore. Too bad he'd started to wish he
could
give Kaitlin her dream project, unlimited funds, unfettered imagination.

“I think we've heard just about enough,” Lindsay's lawyer voice cut in.

Zach whirled, nearly spilling his drink.

In the study's open doorway stood Kaitlin, her face completely pale.

Lindsay's face was beet-red.

Dylan had turned to a statue.

“You—” Lindsay pointed to Dylan, anger quaking deep in her voice “—scheming little pirate-boy. You take us back to Manhattan, right this minute.”

T
he next afternoon, Kaitlin struggled to forget the entire weekend. If she chalked up her experience on Serenity Island to yet another childish fantasy where she found a family and lived happily ever after, she could cope with the way Zach had systematically and deliberately ripped her heart out.

It wasn't real.

It had never been real.

Working from her apartment, she'd gone back to her original renovation designs, ignoring the twinges of guilt when she thought about Ginny and Sadie and what they might think of what she was doing to the Harpers' Manhattan building.

This wasn't about Sadie, nor was it about the Harper and Gilby families. This was about Kaitlin, and her career, and her ability to stand on her own two feet and take care of herself every second of every day for the rest of her life.

So despite the knowledge that Sadie was unlikely to approve of the three extra floors, the five-story lobby, the saltwater aquarium and the palm trees, those features were staying, every single one
of them. And she'd added a helipad. Who knew when Dylan would want to drop in?

She'd even thought about replacing the fountains in the lobby with a two-story waterfall. In fact, she was still considering it.

It was halfway through the afternoon, and her legs were starting to cramp. She rose from her computer, crossing the living room to the kitchen, snagging her second Sugar Bob's doughnut. She knew they were becoming an addiction. But she promised herself she'd add an extra half hour at the gym every day, and she'd kick the habit completely just as soon as the Harper building renovation was complete.

A woman could only handle so many things at once. She took a big bite.

There was a rap on her door, so she ditched the doughnut in the box and tossed the box back into her cupboard, wiping the powdered sugar from her lips.

For a split second she wondered if it might be Zach. Then, just as quickly, she promised herself she wouldn't open the door if it was.

She wouldn't.

She had absolutely nothing left to say to the man.

But when she checked through the peephole, it was Lindsay standing in the hallway. Kaitlin opened the door to find her friend balancing a large Agapitos pizza box on one hand and holding a bottle of tequila in the other.

“Pepperoni and sausage,” Lindsay said without preamble, walking forward as Kaitlin opened the door up wide and shifted out of the way. “I hope you have limes.”

It was only three-thirty. Somewhat early to start in on margaritas, but the day was already a nutritional bust, so what the hell?

“How are you holding up?” asked Lindsay as she crossed to the small kitchen table while Kaitlin shut and latched the apartment door.

“I am absolutely fine,” said Kaitlin, her determination putting a spring in her step as she squared her shoulders.

“You are a terrible liar,” Lindsay countered.

That was true enough. But Kaitlin also knew that if she said something loud enough and often enough, sometimes it started to feel true.

Kaitlin headed for the fridge, reciting the words she'd rehearsed in her mind. “So it turned out to be a con. It wasn't like we didn't expect it to be one. Zach was fighting to save money. I was fighting for my career. Our positions were incompatible from the get-go.” She paused, taking a moment to regroup her emotions. “Though I have to admit, I didn't expect him to be quite so good.”

She tugged open the fridge door, fighting to keep her voice even, but not doing a particularly good job. “Still, I was colossally stupid to have fallen for his act. I mean, didn't you and I call it almost to the detail before we left?”

“I never thought he'd take it as far as he did,” Lindsay ventured from behind her.

“I did,” said Kaitlin with a decisive nod as she bent to scoop a couple of limes from the crisper drawer. “He was trying to use sex as an advantage all along.”

She'd known that. And she had no idea why she'd let herself sink so far into a ridiculous fantasy. She'd figured it out, yet in four short days he had her convinced to do exactly what he'd wanted with the renovations, and she was romping wantonly in his bed every night to boot.

Stupid move.

She snagged the limes.

Yesterday she'd been angry.

This morning she'd been heartbroken.

Right now, she was more embarrassed than anything.

“What about you?” she asked Lindsay, making up her mind to quit talking about it as she closed the fridge.

“What about me?” Lindsay had perched herself on one of the stools at the small breakfast bar with the pizza box in front of her.

Kaitlin set the limes down on the countertop and pulled a long, sharp knife out of the wooden block. “What about you and Dylan?”

“There is no me and Dylan.”

“There was yesterday.”

Lindsay gave her blond hair a quick toss. “He's dead to me.”

“I like that,” Kaitlin said defiantly, slicing into a lime. It sounded so unemotional and final.

“Have you heard anything from Zach?” Lindsay asked.

Kaitlin squeezed half a lime into the blender as she shook her head. “If I see his number, I'll hang up. And if he drops by, I won't answer the door.”

“What about the renovation?”

Kaitlin emphasized her words by pointing the knife tip to her computer on the dining table. “I am doing my full-blown design. I'm adding a helipad and a waterfall. It'll be fabulous. I'll probably win an award.”

Lindsay flipped open the cardboard box, folding it back to reveal the gooey, fragrant pizza. “I can't believe they turned out to be such rats.”

“Dead-to-us rats,” Kaitlin stated, fighting to keep her emotions in check over the thought of never seeing Zach again.

Why had she let herself trust him? Did she think he'd love her, really marry her, have babies with her and turn her life into some fantasy?

She was Kaitlin Saville, penniless orphan. Things like that didn't happen to her.

Lindsay tore a bite from one of the pizza slices and popped it into her mouth. “You thought he was the one?” she ventured softly.

Suddenly exhausted, Kaitlin set down the knife. “Stupid of me, I know.”

“It's not your fault.”

“It's all my fault.”

“He played you.”

“And I let him. I encouraged him. I helped him. And now all I have left is revenge.”

“Revenge can be satisfying,” said Lindsay. “Especially when it's going to save your career.”

“I don't want revenge,” Kaitlin responded with blunt honesty, turning to squeeze the other half of the lime into the blender. “I hate revenge. I feel like I'm getting revenge against Sadie instead of Zach.” She dropped the lime peel and braced herself against the countertop.

She knew she couldn't do it.

She couldn't spend Harper money on a design she knew Sadie would hate. Her laugh sounded more like a cry.

“Katie?” Lindsay was up and rounding the breakfast bar.

“I'm fine,” Kaitlin sniffed. But she wasn't fine. She was about to give up her career and her future for a family that wasn't even hers.

 

“Don't you love it when you know you've been a jerk?” Dylan asked, cupping his hands behind his head and stretching back in the padded chair next to Zach's office window.

Zach was standing, too restless to sit down while his mind struggled to settle on a course of action.

“I mean,” Dylan continued, “sometimes you're not sure. But other times, like this, you're positive you've been a complete ass.”

Zach folded his arms across his chest, watching the clouds streak across the sky far away over the Jersey shore. “Are you talking about me or you?”

“I'm talking about both of us.”

Zach turned. He didn't know about Dylan's behavior, but he maintained that he'd been put in an untenable position. He never set out to hurt anyone. He was only trying to do right by his company and his family.

“And what should I have done differently?” he demanded.

Dylan grinned at Zach's upset. “I don't know. Maybe you shouldn't have pretended you were married.”

“I
am
married.”

“I'm guessing not for long.”

Zach shook his head. “She's not going to divorce me. It's her leverage.”

At least he hoped Kaitlin wasn't going to divorce him yet. He wasn't ready for that.

Dylan crossed an ankle over one knee. “Conning her into scaling back the renovation was one thing. But you're not a heartless bastard, Zach. Why'd you mess with her emotions like that?”

Zach felt his anger rise. What he'd done with Kaitlin was none of Dylan's business. It was between him and Kaitlin. It was… They were…

“And what about you?” he queried, deflecting the question. “You slept with Lindsay.”

“That was a simple fling.”

“And what do you think I had?”

Dylan sat up straight. “I don't know, Zach. You tell me.” His gaze moved meaningfully to the package of papers on the table between them.

“That's nothing,” Zach denied. That was simply him being a decent human being, something which Dylan didn't seem to believe was possible.

“You put nine private investigators on the case.”

“So?” Zach had wanted something fast. More men, better speed.

“So how did that benefit you?”

“It wasn't supposed to benefit me.” It was meant to benefit Kaitlin, to put a smile on her face, to banish the haunted look that came into her eyes every time the subject of his family came up, which was nearly every second they were on Serenity Island.

But the effort had pretty much been a failure. Despite the high-end manpower, all he'd found of Kaitlin's heritage was a grainy old newspaper photo showing her grandparents and her mother as a young girl. The family home had burned down, killing the grandparents and destroying all of the family possessions when Kaitlin's mother was sixteen, two years before Kaitlin was born.

The picture, two names and a gravesite were all Zach had turned up.

“You still going to give them to her?” asked Dylan.

“Sure,” said Zach, with a shrug, pretending it was no big deal. “Maybe I'll mail them over.”

“Mail them?”

“Mail them.”

“You don't want to see her in person?”

Zach bristled. “To do what? To say what? To let her yell at me again?” Truth was, he'd give anything to see Kaitlin again, even if it was only to hear her yell. But what was the point? He'd chewed up her trust and spit it out, over and over again.

“You could tell her you sold the ship.”

“Big deal.” So Zach had come up with seventy-five million dollars. It wasn't as if he had a choice. Kaitlin would be full steam ahead on the renovation again, and the only way he was going to get his company back was to give her the carte blanche she'd demanded. The only way to do that was to sell an asset. So he'd sold an asset. She wouldn't give him brownie points for doing that. “You think an old newspaper photo and money I had to give her all along are going to make a difference?”

“You gotta try, Zach.”

“No, I don't.”

“You're in love with her.”

“No, I'm not.”

Dylan coughed out a cold laugh and came to his feet. “You sorry son-of-a—”

“I am not in love with Kaitlin.”

He liked Kaitlin. Sure, he liked Kaitlin. What was not to like?

And, yeah, he'd have stayed with her for the foreseeable future. He'd have woken up next to her for as long as she'd let him. And maybe for a few days there he'd entertained fantasies about what could happen between them long term.

But those were just fantasies. They had nothing to do with the real world.

In the real world, he and Kaitlin were adversaries. She'd wanted to save her career, and he'd wanted to keep his company intact. She'd won. He'd lost. Nothing to be done about it now but mop up after the fallout.

“I saw your face when she walked out,” Dylan offered. “I've known you your whole life, Zach.”

Zach turned on him. “You know
nothing.
”

“You're going to lie to me? That's your next big plan?”

“I don't have a next big plan.”

“Well, you'd better come up with one. Or you're going to lose Kaitlin forever.”

The words felt like a stake in Zach's heart.

He didn't love Kaitlin. He couldn't love Kaitlin. It would be a disaster to love Kaitlin.

He swallowed.

“What about you?” he asked Dylan.

“I already have a plan,” Dylan stated with smug satisfaction. “And I don't even love Lindsay. I'm just not ready to let her go yet.”

“That's how it starts,” said Zach.

Dylan's brows shot up. “And you know this because…?”

“What's your plan?” Zach countered.

Okay, maybe he did love Kaitlin just a little bit. But he'd get over it.

“I'm kidnapping Lindsay. She wanted a pirate, she's getting a pirate. Can I borrow your yacht?”

“You can't kidnap her.”

“Watch me.”

Zach took in the determination in Dylan's eyes. And for a second there, he wished he could simply kidnap Kaitlin. If he could get her on board his yacht, he could probably keep her there for a few days, maybe even a few weeks. By the end of it, like Lyndall, he might be able to win her over.

On the other hand, she might have him arrested. Or she might throw him overboard. Or she might decide the Harper building needed to be a hundred stories high and truly bankrupt him.

Kidnapping was not a real option.

Instead, he'd give her the money. He'd give her the news clipping and the photo. Then, like the gentleman he'd once been, he'd step out of her life forever.

 

Three margaritas later, Kaitlin splashed cold water on her face in the small bathroom of her apartment. She and Lindsay had started to giggle about half an hour back, but now she found herself fighting tears.