prams now—or would have been if that bitch had allowed them to be born.
“Nothing against the baby,” Callum assured. “But I couldn’t possibly have fathered that insane woman’s child.”
He turned back to his younger brother, brow raised. “So you’re telling me you didn’t sleep with her?”
Callum paused, giving Oliver precisely the answer he’d expected.
With a shake of his head, he stared out the window again, refusing to look at his brother. The rage grew, and he needed to find an outlet to release it. He’d been a perpetual volcano set to explode ever since he’d realized Yasmin had betrayed him and he’d learned his whole life was a lie. “You have a flat worth millions. Why can’t you stay there?”
“Because she knows where I live and keeps popping ’round,” Callum admitted. “She’s mental, I tell you.”
“Maybe you should have figured that out before you shagged her,” a familiar feminine voice offered.
Oliver turned slightly to find Rory and their sister, Claire, entering the room. The entire family was now here. Hurrah for him. Younger than Callum and older than Rory, Claire tended to be the voice of wisdom. Most of the time that was a good thing, but on the days when pent-up violence nipped at his gut, Oliver didn’t want to hear reason.
“Then again, he’s always liked the crazy ones,” Claire went on.
Oliver glanced back out the window. Below, a yellow umbrella caught his eye. He was fooling himself if he thought for an instant that he stared out the window because he couldn’t stand to look at Callum. He was staring because he was waiting for her.
It seemed that everyone else in London carried a black umbrella. Tori looked like a bright canary amongst all the crows. She disappeared as she walked into the building. Only then did Oliver turn to the others and step into the middle of the room to join them.
She was safe now. He could focus on the meeting at hand.
Oliver had no idea what he would do when she returned to the States and her fiancé. Watching Tori Glen had become his favorite pastime. After his last brawl, he’d come away with a black eye and split lip. He’d told Tori he had gotten pissed at a pub and started a fight. Oliver still wondered if he should admit that he’d beaten the holy hell out of a bloke who’d been stalking her. When she’d gone down the wrong alley, the bastard had whipped out a big knife and followed.
Tori had never noticed that he’d put her would-be attacker in the hospital. Instead, she’d just blithely gone her way. The following day, she’d told him about her misadventure, laughing that she still sometimes got lost in London.
She was going to be the death of him, and he wasn’t so sure he minded.
Only two things kept him from taking her bright light for himself: One was James Fenway of Texas, her loving and endlessly patient fiancé. The second was the fact that he was a black hole, which tended to consume and destroy all light in its path.
“I didn’t know she was cray cray before I slept with her. Also, I might have had a wee bit to drink. However, I can assure you that the baby is not mine,” Callum said.
“Cray cray? What is that nonsense you’re spouting?” Oliver glared at his younger brother.
Callum waved him off. “It’s an expression Tori uses. I very much like the way she talks. In fact, I appreciate the way she does everything. We need to discuss her.”
“First, explain how this can’t be your child,” Claire demanded.
“I’d like to hear this as well.” Rory took a seat beside Callum. “You know condoms break. Did she tell you she was on the pill? I know you think no one would ever lie to their favorite footballer, but really... Do you even watch telly?”
Callum groaned. “Yes, Mummy and Daddy, I did use a condom, and I know how it feels when one breaks. This one stayed solid. But I know this baby isn’t mine because I haven’t had sex with the woman in almost a year. If fact, I haven’t slept with anyone since the injury.”
Oliver felt his jaw drop. “You’ve been celibate all this time? Impossible. Unless something is wrong. Anything we don’t know? Has the medication adversely affected your…sex drive?”
Callum chuckled, his expression open, happy even. Oliver didn’t understand how his brother had survived such a backbiting, throat-slitting profession with his ability to smile like that still intact but he appreciated it.
“No. Little Cal is in perfect working order, thank you. I’ll admit that at first I was somewhat depressed, but I’ve come out the other side of that. I haven’t shagged anyone because I’m only interested in one woman, and until very recently, she was off limits. But did you note that I couldn’t possibly have fathered whatever beast is in Thea’s womb? She claims she’s two months pregnant. I will admit to seeing her at a party at Reggie’s a couple of months back. She started the creepy stalker stuff then. But my willy stayed firmly behind my zip all night.”
Oliver sighed with relief and sat behind his desk. That was one worry out of his way. His younger brother might make a hash of his life on a regular basis, but he was honest about it. The tabloids would calm down once the results of the DNA test were in. Directly after, they could ensure the woman stayed away from Callum. “All right, then. You can stay at the Heights. There’s a vacant one-bedroom, I believe.”
He couldn’t miss the way Callum’s whole face lit up as though being told he could go from his posh digs in Chelsea to a nondescript building that temporarily housed visiting workers was a godsend. “Brilliant. I’ll take my suitcases over there tonight. You have no idea how grateful I am, Oliver. I promise once this is all over, you’ll see I’m a changed man.”
“Happy to hear you’re in proper working order…” Rory stared at Callum with narrowed eyes. “But who are you interested in? It best not be the woman I told you to stay the bloody hell away from.”
Wearing a calming expression, Claire stood, stepping between them. “Stop it, both of you. Sit down and work this out like brothers.”
“Have you touched her?” Rory ignored his sister, leaping to his feet, fists at his sides.
“Not yet,” Cal admitted. “But I intend to very soon.”
Rory looked ready to kill. “Don’t you dare.”
Oliver held up a hand. “I’m a bit confused. Who are you two arguing over?” He frowned at Rory. “I thought you were seeing some actress.”
“I was,” his youngest brother admitted. “I broke it off. It was never serious.”
“I’ll touch her if I want to.” Callum ignored him to warn Rory, then turned to Oliver. “He’s seeing at least three different women. Or rather, he’s seen at least three so far this week.”
Claire scowled. “I always thought Cal was the walking venereal disease.”
“Not at all,” Callum assured their sister. “I’m perfectly clean. All the doctors’ reports say I’m STI free. Perhaps I should have a button announcing that fact made for my lapel.”
“Being disease free for the moment hardly makes you prime relationship material,” Oliver shot back.
“At the very least, it should be on every girl’s checklist. I know it’s on mine.” Claire sat once more, obviously hoping she’d seen the last of her brothers’ theatrics for now.
Oliver tsked. “Rory, we pay Tori for a reason. Have you heard a word our publicist has said? You’re supposed to be discreet.”
“I assure you, I am. You won’t find any YouTube videos of me drunkenly dropping my trousers at a bar in Brazil to shag a girl on a stool.”
“That was nearly two years ago,” Callum objected. “I’ve matured since then.”
Rory shot him a skeptical glance.
Oliver wanted to punch them both now. “This isn’t about Cal, and you know perfectly well that dating three women in a week isn’t discreet.” Rory needed to grasp the bloody concept. “Our stock is still unstable. If we’re not careful, the stockholders will soon ask for my head. Do you want to watch the company our family spent decades building crumble around us?”
Rory
and Callum both backed down.
“You know I don’t.” Rory sank into his seat. “I’m not indiscriminately dating women, just escorting a few girls around as a favor. One is an old schoolmate’s sister who’s working on a movie here. He asked if I would take her to a few dinners. For her, the publicity is helpful.”
“And for you, it’s toxic. For all of us, in fact.” Oliver pressed his thumb to his forehead, massaging between his eyes, though he knew it wouldn’t stave off the inevitable headache. “I understand that I’m more than a bit to blame. I started this cycle.”
All three of his siblings went on the attack then. Or rather in defense of him, all talking loudly over one another. Oliver managed a grim smile. It was good to know they didn’t believe him at fault for the Yasmin incident. Unfortunately, they were wrong.
“Stop,” he insisted. “I married her even knowing that I didn’t love her. I didn’t want to deal with her, so I turned a blind eye to her behavior. And in doing so, I landed our family in every known tabloid. Now we’re synonymous with bad behavior. It needs to stop. This is precisely the reason we hired a publicist in the first place. We need to listen to her.”
And that meant he couldn’t pop in at the pub ’round the corner and pick a fight whenever the whim grabbed him by the balls. He couldn’t