Rebel Heart

  Copyright © 2018 by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  REBEL HEART

  Editor & Formatter: Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC

  Cover model: Micah Truitt

  Photographer: Leonardo Corredor

  Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

  Proofreading: Eda Price

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Dear Readers

  Acknowledgements

  Other Books by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

  Other Books by Penelope Ward

  Other Books by Vi Keeland

  I thought I might pass out. The room started to spin, and I had to grab onto Rush’s arm to steady myself.

  “Gia? You okay?”

  When I opened my mouth to speak, a burn traveled up through my throat, a prelude to what I feared might be vomit following behind. I slapped my hand over my mouth, and somehow managed to mumble a coherent word. “Bathroom.”

  Rush guided me to a bathroom down a long hallway and tried to come in with me. He looked as nervous as I felt. I put my hand on his chest, stopping him from crowding into the little room with me. “I’m fine. Just give me a few minutes alone. It’s just the morning sickness and my nerves.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded and forced a half-assed smile before locking myself into the bathroom. Sliding down the closed door, I sat on the floor with my head in my hands and started to hyperventilate.

  It isn’t possible.

  My eyes are playing tricks on me.

  Hormones. It’s definitely the hormones.

  I’d only seen Harlan that one night—months ago now.

  But Rush’s brother looked so much like him.

  Those green eyes.

  Perfectly tanned skin.

  Square jaw.

  Impeccably coiffed hair parted to the side.

  But he wouldn’t have been at The Heights.

  Rush and his brother despise each other.

  There is no way that he came to hang out in the Hamptons.

  And…the guy I’d been with was named Harlan, not Elliott.

  Although…

  I’d always felt like it was a distinct possibility the guy had lied about his name. Something about the way he’d said Harlan struck me as off for some odd reason—like it hadn’t rolled off his tongue as it should have. His speech pattern had been smooth, just like his lines, when he’d walked over and sat down beside me at the bar. But when he’d said his name, it came out with almost a bit of a stutter.

  I suppose Elliott could have come out to the Hamptons to speak to his brother that night. Although there was definitely no sign of Rush when I’d met my one-night stand. And Rush is not the type of man I’d forget seeing.

  The longer I sat on the floor, the more I made my head spin. I flipped back and forth from of course it’s him to it can’t possibly be him two dozen times in the span of five minutes.

  A soft knock made me jump and hit my head back against the door.

  “Gia. You okay, babe?”

  The tenderness in Rush’s voice made the tears start to flow. God, what the fuck? This couldn’t be happening to me. It was bad enough that I got myself pregnant with a one-night stand—it couldn’t be that man.

  Thirty seconds passed, and he knocked louder. “Gia?”

  I had no doubt he would break down the door if I didn’t answer immediately. “I’m good,” I squeaked out. “Just a little nauseous. I’ll be out in a few.”

  Over the next five minutes, I talked myself into believing that I had been wrong. Elliott wasn’t Harlan. That would be ludicrous. I’d had a drink or two that night. It was someone who looked like him—from across the span of a wide room. Once I got up close, I’d realize he looked nothing like the man I’d slept with.

  There were no other options to believe in here.

  Eventually, after two more check-ins from Rush, a silent cry, and washing my face, I opened the door. Rush’s hair told me he’d been yanking at the strands with worry. I reached out and patted the pieces down that stuck up.

  “I’m okay. Sorry. That…just sort of came out of nowhere.”

  Rush breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m going to be fucking useless in the delivery room. I can’t even handle that you feel sick because I’m so worried that something is wrong.”

  My heart twisted in my chest. “You…you want to be in the delivery room with me?”

  Rush’s brows drew down. “Of course. I guess I just assumed I would be.”

  I looked back and forth between his eyes and felt myself getting choked up again. This time for a totally different reason. The man standing before me was truly amazing. He said the most beautiful things without even knowing it. Rush didn’t give his heart easily, but when he did—he gave a hundred and ten percent. He really was in this with me.

  The pad of his thumb gently wiped away a tear that slipped down my cheek. “I don’t have to be if you don’t want me to be. Don’t cry.”

  I threw my arms around his neck. “No. No. I want you there! I want you everywhere I am. I want you next to me through this entire thing. I just…I love you so much, and I guess I just realized for the first time that when you said you wanted to be with me…you really meant it. With me, with me…not just with me.”

  Rush’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of his lips twitched. “With you, with you. Glad I cleared that up. I hadn’t realized we weren’t on the same page.”

  I kissed him. “Shut up. Just kiss me.”

  He licked my bottom lip. “I’m not gonna find any puke chunks in here, am I?”

  I laughed. “You’re so gross.”

  He licked my top lip. “What did you have for lunch…I am sort of hungry?”

  For a few minutes, while the two of us hid in the corner outside of the bathroom, I completely forgot the panic of just a few minutes ago. Denial and self-protection tinted everything a rosy shade of pink.

  “I heard a rumor that you were here.” A man’s booming voice popped the bubble of security I was enjoying so much.

  Rush stiffened in my arms, and his grip on my hip tightened as he looked up and gave a curt nod. “Edward.”

  Rush’s father had the exact same startlingly green eyes as his son and matched him in height and width, but the similarities ended there. Rush’s eyes were filled with warmth while this man’s were icy cold and distant. That might have been the reason goosebumps rose along my arms.

  “Ar
en’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?” his father asked.

  Rush spoke through gritted teeth. “Gia, this is Edward Vanderhaus. My sperm donor.”

  The man laughed. It was hearty and practiced. And also completely phony. It took less than thirty seconds to see firsthand why Rush didn’t like him.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Gia.” Edward extended his hand to me.

  I got the feeling that Rush might crack a tooth with how hard his jaw clenched when I hesitantly placed my hand in his father’s. “Likewise.”

  Releasing me, Edward gripped one of Rush’s shoulders. “Come join the party. There’re a few investors here whom I’d like you to meet. Always good to show them that a family of shareholders has a united front.”

  Surprising me, Rush didn’t make a scene. He nodded, laced his fingers with mine, and together we walked back out to the party with his father. Although some of my fingers might’ve turned white from the tight clasp he held my hand in.

  I stood dutifully by his side while Edward introduced us to a few people, trying not to make it appear obvious that I was looking around for his brother. I needed a closer look, but he seemed to have disappeared.

  Maybe the entire thing had been a figment of my imagination.

  Hormones. The hormones are screwing with me.

  I’d actually started to relax a bit again, lulling myself into believing that my mind had played a trick on me, when I suddenly caught sight of Harlan again across the room.

  Or Elliott.

  Jesus. He looked a lot like Harlan.

  I couldn’t stop staring.

  I’d thought Rush had been engrossed in the conversation with his father and another man and hadn’t noticed where my attention fixated, but I should’ve known he wouldn’t miss a beat. He excused himself from the discussion and walked us over to one of the bistro-style tables that were set up around the massive apartment.

  “Sir, would you care for a tartlet?” A gloved waiter presented a tray of what looked like mini pastries.

  Rush lifted his chin. “What are they made of?”

  “Caviar and crème fraiche”

  Rush held up one hand. “Got any little hot dogs in the back? You know, for the non-asshole crowd?”

  The waiter smirked and relaxed his rigid posture. “I’ll see what I can rustle up.”

  I still couldn’t take my eyes off Rush’s brother across the room. God…maybe it wasn’t him. From this angle, he looked different than I remembered. But his posture…his laugh…

  “You know…” Rush leaned in and whispered. “…if you keep checking out my brother, I’m going to start to get jealous.”

  Shit.

  I’d thought I was being discreet. Caught red-handed, I felt the need to make up an excuse. Of course, at the moment, a simple excuse such as I was looking for a similarity between the brothers, completely escaped me. Instead, I babbled.

  “I can’t help but think how much your brother reminds me of how I pictured a character in my book.”

  “Oh yeah? I hope you’re talking about a villain, and not the hero who gets the girl in the end.”

  “Ummm…yeah. The character is sort of a jerk. He acts like a nice guy, but he’s a phony.”

  Rush nodded. “Well, then you seem to have nailed that character in your book if he looks like my brother. Come on…let me show you the phony live and in person. We haven’t said Happy Birthday to the guest of honor yet.” Rush put his hand on my back and started to walk, but I stayed rooted firmly in place.

  Panic set in.

  “I don’t think we should go over there.”

  Rush’s brows furrowed. “Don’t worry. He’ll be polite to you. Big brother puts on a good show. He’ll even act happy that I’m here…in front of people.”

  “It’s not that…I just…”

  “What?”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Rush’s brother looking our way. He put a hand on the shoulder of the man he had been talking to and then shook hands as if he was wrapping up their conversation. When he took the first step toward us, I thought I really might be sick this time.

  Elliott took a few more strides in our direction, and Rush caught him in his peripheral. “Looks like we don’t have to decide to say hello. Your villain is heading right toward us.”

  I must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights. Even though I had a naturally tan complexion and soaked up the sun this summer, I felt the color drain from my face. I had to be as white as a ghost.

  “Well, isn’t this a wonderful surprise,” the blond Ken doll said as he approached with his hand extended toward Rush. “Lauren told me she invited you, but I figured you’d be too busy out east to stop by.”

  I couldn’t help but stare. Did Harlan have so many teeth? Rush’s brother’s smile was so broad, it seemed like his mouth was crammed with pearly whites.

  “Elliott,” Rush nodded. “We were just going to come over and ask you how it felt to be an old man in your thirties.”

  Still frozen, I held my breath as the two men shook hands and then his brother turned his attention to me. The plastic smile on his face stayed firmly in place. “Elliott Vanderhaus…” He extended his hand and our eyes locked. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  Somehow I managed to raise my hand to meet his. Elliott’s eyes were the same beautiful green color as Rush’s, but lacked his brother’s warmth and sparkle. Unlike Rush, whose eyes were a window to his soul, Elliott and Edward viewed the world through cold eyes that were shuttered and unreadable.

  I wasn’t sure if my hand was cold or his was particularly hot, but when he clasped his long fingers around my little hand, the heat made my palm start to sweat. When I didn’t say anything for an unusually long period of time, Elliott prompted me. “And you are?”

  I cleared my throat, and yet my voice still croaked. “Gia. Gia Mirabelli.”

  If my name rang a bell to him, Elliott hid it well. “Nice to meet you, Gia. My brother so rarely brings anyone from his personal life to meet his family. You must be someone very special to him.”

  Rush squeezed my hip. “She is. Which makes me realize maybe I was a little crazy for bringing her with me.”

  Elliott threw his head back with a deep chuckle. It must’ve been a Vanderhaus move that Rush luckily hadn’t inherited. It struck me as an exaggerated response—one that was done more for show than an expression of true amusement.

  “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Gia. And we’re not half as bad as my brother will make us out to be. I promise.”

  He turned his attention to Rush. “Carl Hammond is here from England. He’s on our board at Sterling Financial. I’d like to introduce you to him when you have a chance.”

  “Sure,” Rush said.

  Elliott reached out and squeezed Rush’s shoulder offering a plastic smile. “I really am glad you came, little brother.”

  And just like that, Elliott turned and was gone. Seeing him up close, I would’ve sworn it was Harlan. But apparently I was wrong. He hadn’t recognized me, nor did my name even ring a bell with him. Obviously, I was losing my mind.

  I felt out of breath, and my heart pounded in my chest like I’d run a marathon, even though I hadn’t moved. Just like what had happened that time I’d gotten in between two patrons fighting at The Heights, my adrenaline started to spike after the incident.

  I had been wrong.

  Harlan was not Elliott.

  So why did I still feel so anxious?

  “So…what did you think?” Rush grabbed two potato puffs from a passing waiter and handed me one. “Looks like every other annoying douche from The Heights who walks in with a whale or horse on his pastel polo, right?”

  “Yeah. He definitely has a familiar feel.” I wondered if someday I’d think what had just transpired in my head was funny and tell Rush all about it. Somehow I doubted it.

  My brain was still a jumbled mess from the scare of my life, and I needed another minute to myself in order to get my emotions back i
n order. Not to mention, the extra water that I’d been trying to drink every day had my bladder feeling full. “I’m sorry. I need to use the ladies’ room again.”

  Rush pulled me close. “Want me to come with you? I’d give my left nut to make your moan sing out over the expensive audio system they have blowing elevator music through this place.”

  I smiled. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

  Rush walked me back to the bathroom. “You have your phone, right?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Pick it up when I call you. Just listen. I’ll give you some new material for your phony book character.”

  I squinted. “What are you talking about?”

  He kissed my forehead. “You’ll see.”

  Inside the bathroom, I actually did need to go this time. I relieved myself and started to wash my hands, when my cell rang from my purse. I dug it out, and automatically said hello, even though Rush had told me just to listen.

  “Which one is Carl Hammond? The guy you wanted me to meet?” Rush’s voice was a bit distant. He wasn’t talking into the phone, just holding it to pick up the interaction with his brother. I turned up the volume to eavesdrop, which is apparently what he wanted me to do.

  “Pretend you have some class when I introduce you. Maybe start a conversation about the weather or the stock market rather than tattoos and trailer parks.” The tone of the voice was filled with disdain, but there was no mistaking it belonged to Elliott. A very different Elliott than I’d just been introduced to.

  “Since Hammond’s British,” Rush said. “I figured I’d ask him if he knew Maribel Stewart. You know, the woman whose throat you had your tongue down last month at the board meeting. I saw you in the hall with her before the vote.”

  “My tongue isn’t the only thing that Maribel likes to have down her throat.”

  “You’re a pig. I have no idea how you look your wife in the eyes.”

  “Speaking of women…” Elliott trailed off. “Gia looks familiar. Have I met her before?”

  My eyes widened.

  “No. And don’t plan on meeting her a second time. She’s too good for you, and I never should have brought her here in the first place.”

  The sound of a third man’s voice interrupted the heated conversation between Rush and Elliott—a man with a British accent. I listened for a minute more while Elliott seamlessly changed back to the gracious host and introduced Rush to the man. My head started to spin again.