Marriage by Mistake

  The way she stared made him fear she was going to have the moxie to object. But she only pressed her lips together and turned to look out the window.

  Dean managed to busy himself with the phone all the way out past the suburbs. But when they arrived at the wrought iron gates of the family estate, he found himself perversely curious about her reaction. What would she think of the home he was providing her? He pocketed his cell phone as they drove through. Fortunately, she was too intent on the twisting drive to notice his attention. He could see her strain to see the lines of the house in the distance.

  When the place finally appeared through a break in the trees, her brows shot way up. She turned to him. "This is your house?"

  Dean stared at her. He could swear she was implying the place was deficient. With fifteen bedrooms, twenty bathrooms, and thirty thousand square feet of premium interior decoration, the house was hardly deficient in any way. At least, that's what Kirk's third wife had said, the one who'd needled Dean's father into tearing down the ancestral manse to build the place. "It's supposed to resemble a Roman villa," Dean informed Kelly stiffly.

  "Well, it doesn't."

  Dean was at a loss. Every one of his father's brides had gushed over the house. But Kelly looked at him with a trace of...pity?

  Dean's brows dove. Oh no, he wasn't going to take pity from the likes of her — Then a glance out the window told him it didn't matter what Kelly thought. Jackson was pulling into the circular drive before the front entrance. Dean was about to see the back of her, at least for the time being. Yes, in just a few minutes, with some well-placed commands to his staff, he would be quit of her.

  Dean was sure he'd regain his customary equilibrium once out of her presence.

  But as soon as he stepped out of the car, Dean knew it wasn't going to happen the way he'd planned. He squinted. "Where is everybody?"

  Jackson cleared his throat. Dean turned around, still squinting.

  "Ahem," Jackson said. "I was instructed not to alarm you, sir, before you got back home, but the child is missing. Again."

  Dean said nothing. He was too completely dismayed. It wasn't that Robby had taken off; the kid did that too often for panic. But he wasn't going to be able to deliver his set of well-thought-out orders. He wasn't going to be able to sink back into the car and depart from the woman now standing by his side, her hands on her hips.

  "Who?" she asked. "Who's missing?"

  Dean kept his gaze on Jackson. "Troy," he snapped. "Where is he?"

  Jackson coughed into his fist. "Uh, where you would expect, sir."

  "Who is missing?" Kelly asked again. But Dean wasn't paying any attention to her. Of course not. He'd barely addressed a word to her since they'd lifted off from Vegas. He'd kept his nose buried in his papers or his ear to his cell phone. Now he turned on his heel and started for the monster double doors set in the center of the monster house.

  Truly, it was the most hideous house Kelly had ever seen. Big, square, and blocky, it looked like a mausoleum. She couldn't believe he chose to live in this pile, but there he was making for the building. It must really be his. She spent half a second thinking about it, then hustled after him.

  What child was missing?

  As soon as she stepped in the front door, she had to stop. Open-mouthed, she turned in a circle. There was marble from here to everywhere and a rainforest of crystal falling from at least three stories above. Just like the limo: nice, if you were in a casino in Vegas, but a bit much for home sweet home. Kelly shook her head and looked around for Dean. He was moving fast down a carpeted hallway. She hurried after.

  Looking stern, Dean pushed open one of the many heavily paneled doors lining the hall. Kelly caught the edge of the door and slipped in after him.

  They were in a study, the furnishings heavy and dark. There was a huge desk at one end of the room, and a bar at the other. It was at the bar that an athletic-looking young man lounged. Dark hair fell onto his forehead and a highball rolled between his palms. To his credit, he didn't appear to have been drinking. The glass looked more a prop against anxiety.

  Dean came to a dead stop. Kelly nearly bumped into him. The young man looked up. "Ah," he drawled, "I see you've heard."

  Kelly could tell Dean was holding on to his control with the greatest of difficulty. But he was holding. When he spoke, his voice was calm.

  "One thing, Troy. I asked you to do one thing."

  The other man's nonchalance dimmed. "Don't blame me. Kid's a regular escape artist."

  "You said he was dogging your steps."

  "He was." Troy's gaze flitted to Kelly. "Which is how he must have heard you were on your way home — with wife, after all."

  Dean didn't glance around, which told Kelly he'd been aware of her behind him the whole time. "I told him that it wasn't his fault."

  Troy swished his drink. "Guess he didn't believe you."

  "Who?" Kelly had the temerity to ask yet again. "Who is missing?"

  "Robby," Troy said. "Didn't Dean warn you about his little demon?"

  "Yours?" Kelly's eyes widened as she turned to Dean. "You have a son?" Not even her Dean had told her that!

  Dean's gaze flicked to Kelly. "Not my son. My brother. Half-brother, actually."

  "Oh." But her Dean hadn't told her that, either. "How old is he?"

  "Nine." Dean pressed his lips together.

  "Nine." Kelly knew her eyes were widening again. "And you're how — ?"

  "Credit a very active, very healthy sire," Dean said dryly. "Too active and too healthy, in fact, to come home and deal with his troublesome progeny." Turning back to Troy, Dean sighed. "If you've already tried all the usual places, then we'll have to try some unusual ones."

  Troy set down his highball. "Whatever you say. I'm ready to call the cops."

  "I doubt that will be necessary." As Dean spoke, he went toward a set of French doors and opened them wide. A lot of trees were revealed. "Robby never goes all that far."

  Kelly wasn't officially invited on the expedition that then charged into the woods, but she went anyway. A nine-year-old boy was missing. And besides, she was curious about Dean, watching him as they tramped over the pine carpet floor of the forest that grew behind his house.

  Just exactly who was he? For all they'd shared during their two-day courtship, he'd not told her anything substantial about his life. She hadn't heard about the building with his name on it, the huge house, his trouble-making cousin — and certainly not a word about a nine-year-old half-brother. It all seemed to confirm her hypothesis. This was not the man she'd married.

  But at the same time...he was no longer the block of stone she'd been sitting next to on the airplane. He stalked through the forest with his brows drawn in real concern. There was an outside chance he might be human.

  Sunlight filtered through the branches overhead and rustling noises sounded in the undergrowth. Kelly heard the gentle burbling of a brook. "Some backyard," she muttered. Huge, like everything else about the place, though she had to admit the hugeness of the outdoors was beautiful, a tamed slice of nature.

  They'd gone quite a ways before Kelly saw the tree house. A platform of plywood supported scrappy two-by-fours. A dingy canvas stretched above this collection as a roof.

  "What the — ?" Troy stuttered. "Where did that come from?"

  "Robby made it last summer," Dean replied. "He thinks no one knows about it."

  But Dean had known, Kelly thought, and glanced toward him.

  Dean came to a stop at the foot of the tree. "Robby! If you're up there, come out!"

  The canvas roof flapped in a passing breeze. Dean's gaze concentrated on the makeshift structure. Kelly's gaze concentrated on Dean. He was looking more and more human with each passing minute; concerned and frustrated. He shrugged out of one sleeve of his suit jacket. "I'm going up to take a look."

  Troy's mouth twisted. "Of course you are."

  Dean peeled out of the rest of his jacket and tossed it to Troy, who
caught it with a sigh. Loosening his tie, Dean stalked toward the pegged-in ladder nailed to the tree trunk.

  Kelly bit her lower lip. Mr. Chill and Correct had taken off his jacket. He was going to climb a tree. Who was he?

  With spare efficiency, Dean climbed the ladder. At the platform, he lifted the dingy canvas and crawled in.

  Down beside Kelly, Troy released another sigh. "Trumped again."

  Kelly switched her gaze to Troy. "Excuse me?"

  Troy nodded toward the tree house. "I've been looking for Robby for hours, but it took Dean to find him. Yup, saving failed corporations, finding lost kids. Whatever the task, old Dean-o can do it."

  Kelly frowned. "But we don't even know if Robby is up there."

  "He is. Dean never makes mistakes. Ah — " Troy glanced at her. "Present company excepted."

  Kelly blinked. "Present comp — But I'm your mistake."

  "Mine?" Troy looked genuinely baffled.

  Kelly was getting baffled, herself. "Yes, you were the one who gave Dean the 'amusing suggestions.'"

  Troy regarded her through narrowing eyes. His mouth opened, but before he could say a word, the flap of the canvas lifted. Dean emerged, looking disgusted.

  "He's not there," Kelly guessed.

  "Oh, he's here." Dean dusted his hands, then reached for the tree-trunk ladder. "But he won't come down."

  Kelly's lips parted. Troy had been right. Dean had known where to find Robby.

  "Oh, come on," Troy expostulated. "He won't come down?"

  Dean spoke toward the tree trunk as he descended the ladder. "Claims he wants to talk to Kelly first."

  Kelly choked. "Me?"

  "You." Dean turned at the base of the tree and reached for the suit jacket Troy was handing him.

  Kelly opened and closed her mouth. "But — Robby doesn't even know me."

  "I know." Dean shook out his jacket. "And I'm sure you have no intention of climbing any trees. I told him that. Never mind. He'll come down when he's hungry enough."

  "It has nothing to do with climbing the tree. I just don't understand what I have to do with it."

  "Nothing." Dean shoved an arm into his jacket. "Don't worry about it."

  She wasn't supposed to worry about it? He could find lost kids and, reportedly, save failing corporations, but she wasn't supposed to 'worry about it?' "All right," Kelly proclaimed. "Robby wants to talk to me, he can talk to me."

  Dean froze with his jacket hunched over his neck. "What?"

  Kelly marched toward the tree. Noting the well-worn polish on the pegged-in ladder, she kicked off her sandals and began to climb.

  "Miss Williams — !"

  She paid no heed. In fact, Kelly enjoyed the note of panic in Dean's voice. She wasn't supposed to worry about it. At the top of the ladder, she stepped onto the platform and shoved inside the canvas door. In the sudden dimness, she squinted.

  "Oh, God," a small voice breathed.

  It took a few seconds for Kelly's eyes to adjust enough to spot him, a pudgy boy sitting cross-legged at the far end of the platform. His brown hair was uncombed and his clothes were dirty. With a pug nose and freckles, he looked like every misfit, un-cool kid she'd ever taught in her father's Sunday school. Kelly's heart immediately melted.

  "Hey." She lowered to sit on her heels. "Heard you wanted to talk to me."

  Maybe he had once, but he didn't look like he wanted anything of the sort now. "You're her," he breathed.

  "Um, if you mean your brother's wife, well then yes, I'm the one. Kelly Williams — er, well yeah, Williams — at your service." Kelly smiled and held out her hand.

  The boy didn't make a move toward it. "Troy was right," he said hoarsely. "You are a dish."

  Kelly kept on smiling, though she wondered where Troy could have gotten such an idea.

  The boy swallowed. "So, what are you going to do to me?"

  "Do to you?" Kelly lowered her outstretched hand.

  "You're really mad, aren't you?"

  "Mad?" Kelly blinked. "At you?"

  Solemn, the child nodded.

  "But why would I be mad at you?" Kelly hadn't even known he existed half an hour ago.

  "You know. The hypnosis. Because of the hypnosis." Robby's gaze went from vulnerable to suspicious.

  Kelly stared. "What?"

  Robby spoke clearly. "Because I hypnotized Dean."

  Feeling like an idiot, Kelly closed her hung-open jaw. "You," she said. "You did it. I — I thought it was Troy."

  "Oh, no. Troy just gave Dean a suggestion, once he'd gone under. I was the one who hypnotized him." Robby sounded, briefly, proud. Then his eyes narrowed. "Didn't you know?"

  Kelly shook her head.

  "Oh, great." Robby slapped his forehead. "She didn't even know, and I had to go and tell her."

  "It's all right. I'm not mad at you, even so," Kelly rushed to say. But she was floored. Dean had been hypnotized — by a nine-year-old boy?

  One look at this nine-year-old boy, however, and Kelly knew she couldn't ask how he'd managed it. He needed reassurance, not interrogating.

  "Why should I be mad?" She lifted a shoulder. "It wasn't your fault Dean married me. The hypnosis couldn't force him to do anything he didn't want to do." Hadn't Dean spouted such a sentiment to her the day before?

  But the boy looked unconvinced by the argument. "He's still mad about it," he claimed.

  "Yes, but not at you. I think...he's mad at himself."

  "Huh. That doesn't make any sense."

  It did, but Kelly didn't belabor the point. "The thing is I'm not mad at you," she told him, and waved a hand. "Anyway, the whole thing was just an accident."

  It was another limp contention of Dean's from the day before, but this one put a light of hope into Robby's soft eyes. He shifted weight. "Really?"

  "Really." Kelly paused a beat, then gestured toward the canvas flap door. "It must be breakfast time, or past it. I'm pretty hungry, and I don't even know where the kitchen is in that great, big house. How about you? Wanna come down and eat?"

  He hesitated, searching her face for sincerity.

  Kelly made sure to relax her expression, letting it show what she was truly feeling: liking, interest, the desire to make a connection. She'd grown up learning that every human being had something unique and worthwhile to offer. She had a feeling Robby hadn't discovered this was true of himself yet.

  But he did appear to conclude she wasn't angry at him. "Oh, we don't eat in the kitchen," he said.

  "No?"

  "There should be a meal laid out in the morning room." Robby started on all fours toward her. "I'll show you."

  Feeling awfully pleased with the situation, Kelly moved aside for the boy, but Robby waited for her to precede him down the ladder. High-bred manners. And breakfast in the 'morning room.' Excuse me. She smiled to herself as she moved out the canvas door.

  Dean's eyes hit her as she emerged first. They narrowed. Then he saw Robby come out of the tree house behind her. He couldn't hide his surprise. Surprise and, Kelly saw, relief.

  But of course he was relieved. He'd been worried. He cared.

  He was human.

  She felt a little light-headed as she hopped to the ground. This was stupid. So, Dean was human. Most people were. Nothing to get excited about. Then she turned and found him looking straight at her.

  "Thank you," he said.

  That was when, for an instant, just a split-second, Kelly saw something she'd never expected to see.

  Her Dean.

  As if alarmed he could have been anything of the sort, he threw the mask back up. Abruptly, he turned to Robby. Scanning the boy, and apparently finding him undamaged, he declared, "You're filthy."

  "I'm hungry," was Robby's retort.

  Kelly started shivering. Her Dean! Not any more, but he had been there; in the eyes, the tone of voice...the vulnerability.

  "You'll bathe before you get anything to eat," Dean told his half-brother sternly. "And then we'll talk abo
ut this habit of running away."

  Robby's brown-eyed gaze went to Kelly. "I promised her I'd show her where the morning room is. I have to do that first."

  Dean stilled. He seemed transfixed by something Robby had just done. Kelly, meanwhile, was transfixed by a startling, new idea. Had her husband been telling the truth back in that conference room in Las Vegas? Was at least a part of him 'her' Dean?

  Could it be true?

  "Ahem, well." Dean seemed to come out of his brief distraction. He went stern again. "Fine. If you promised, then you have to fulfill your word. But then you bathe." Dean made this very clear. "No eating anything yourself until you're presentable."

  "Okay." Robby sounded like he would have agreed to anything right then. Completely trusting now, he grabbed Kelly's hand. "Come on, this way."

  "Wait. My shoes." Kelly leaned the other way to slip into her sandals. Furtively, she glanced toward Dean as Robby pulled her in the other direction.

  Dean was not furtive at all about the way he was looking at Kelly. He wasn't a rock now, but a glacier, cold enough to freeze lava. His eyes focused on her like twin lasers of ice. If Kelly hadn't just retrieved Robby for him — and he hadn't admitted gratitude — she'd have said he was angry.

  Enraged, even.

  "Enjoy your meal," he told Kelly, in tones of frost. Before she could reply, he turned and stalked swiftly away.

  "Well, I'll be a monkey's..." Kelly murmured. It was as if that other man, the human one, had never been.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dean swept through the open French doors and into his study. He paced the Aubusson rug, his hands clenched into fists. If only an expenditure of energy would release some of the fury he felt.

  Being nice, ingratiating herself. To Robby! Who did she think she was? Who the hell did that Kelly female think she was?

  Dean whirled toward a rustling sound by the French doors. Troy halted on the threshold, his hands raised. "Hey," he mock-begged, "don't shoot."

  Dean exhaled slowly. "What?" He made it cool. "Not joining the happy party?"

  "Oh, why do that when I can enjoy your cheery company?" Troy sauntered into the room.

  Dean tried to even out his breathing and stalked over to his desk. He made a show of looking for something on its surface. "Pardon me very much if I don't believe you. You want something, I presume?" His cousin, like every other male of the family, had no visible means of support. He had plenty of invisible means, however. Not that Troy didn't run into financial trouble every couple of months, anyway.