Magnus interjected, “You had reason to be concerned for your grandson.”
“Exactly,” Delinda said. “Rachelle, your arrival in London might well have saved his life. I wanted to do my part.”
Reggie sighed dramatically. “But you didn’t stop there.”
“No.” If there was anything Delinda hated, it was admitting she was wrong. She’d grown up in a household where weakness was not tolerated. “I found out he was seeing a woman of questionable morals and got involved when perhaps I shouldn’t have.”
“Grandmother,” Brett asked, “this woman you’re referring to . . . Eric spoke to me about her. He cares for her.”
“He shouldn’t. She’s after his money.”
Reggie shook his head. “No.”
“I have it on good authority that she targets rich clients, then fleeces them. She does it all under the guise of being able to communicate with plants,” Delinda said.
Reggie folded his arms across his chest. “Your authority is an idiot. I followed this woman before and after Eric asked me to. Everyone likes her. Her old clients have nothing but good to say about her. Trust me, I’ve spoken to several of them. Tops, they paid her a couple hundred dollars, and in return they say she filled their lives with plants and happiness. I don’t know what the hell she tells these people, but they all say they were at a low point before they ran into her. You tell me if that isn’t worth a couple hundred bucks.”
“Her mother is a horrible, grasping social climber,” Delinda snarked.
Reggie shrugged. “We can’t choose our family, can we?”
The room was dead silent.
Michael stepped into the room and went to stand beside Delinda. “Sometimes we can and we’re better for it.”
Delinda’s heart swelled. If she were the type to hug, she would have embraced him then. He was very much a part of her family, and she was grateful to have him. That conversation, however, would wait for another day.
Reggie stubbornly held to his opinion. “I don’t care who her parents are. I like Sage and who Eric is becoming since he met her. She’s good for him.”
Delinda searched the faces of her grandchildren and saw only disappointment. She saw the same in Alessandro. The battle went out of her. “I was wrong.” When no one jumped up to assure her that she hadn’t been, she snapped, “So intervene already. I threatened her, her parents, and told Eric she was after his money, just like Jasmine was. How do I fix this?”
In the stunned silence that followed, Magnus asked, “She is joking, isn’t she?”
Rachelle shook her head. “No, she is not. Grandmother, how could you?”
On legs that suddenly felt unsteady, Delinda moved to sit in a chair. “I was afraid I would lose him the way I lost my Oliver. I wanted to protect him.”
“Who was Oliver?” Reggie asked.
“Our grandfather. He killed himself,” Brett said quietly.
“Oh.” Reggie went to sit on the arm of Delinda’s chair. “Well, no wonder you’re all fucked-up. I get it now.” He gave her shoulder a pat.
Delinda almost told him to remove his hand from her, but she felt another hand on her other shoulder. She looked up to see Michael standing beside her. Reggie had become Eric’s family just as surely as Michael had become hers. She would learn to love him. She gave each of their hands a pat.
Tears filled her eyes. “All I ever wanted was for my family to have better than I did. Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but I never meant to hurt any of you.” She dabbed at her tears. “I tried to keep Rachelle safe in Vandorra, and I failed her as well.”
“I’m still here,” Rachelle said. “You didn’t fail me.”
“We’ve all made mistakes,” Brett said. “Not one of us is perfect.”
“Nope, not one of you is. I’ve never seen a more messed-up family,” Reggie said, then smiled. “No offense.”
Hailey added, “Everyone here knows you mean well, Grandmother. It’s just sometimes the methods you employ that—”
“I know. I know.” Delinda waved a hand in the air. “I go too far. Let’s move past that, on to something helpful like suggestions.”
Spencer jumped in. “Delinda Westerly, my wife is attempting to make you feel better.”
Hailey countered kindly, “She’s not upset with me. She’s upset with herself.”
Alessandro cleared his throat loudly. “If you want my opinion, and since I’m here I’m guessing you do, you should start by apologizing to this Sage woman.”
Delinda glanced up at Reggie. “You really think she’s good for Eric?”
He nodded. “She’s his odd duck.”
Delinda blinked a few times. “I don’t know what that means, but I’ll take that as a yes.”
Alisha chimed in, “I think what he means is that she’s different, but she’s Eric’s kind of different.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Reggie said.
Delinda took a moment to consider her options. “I could host an event and arrange for her—”
“No,” they all said in unison.
“Or I could”—she looked at each of them again and resigned herself to her fate—“apologize to her and promise Eric that I won’t get involved in his personal business again.” She sniffed loudly. “He said I was dead to him.”
“He didn’t mean that. He was angry, Delinda,” Alessandro said gently. “He had a right to be.”
“I wouldn’t have actually had her arrested or ruined her father’s business,” Delinda said.
“Now she’s kidding,” Magnus said with confidence.
“No,” the others said in unison again.
Delinda rose to her feet. “Thank you all for meeting with me. I now know what I must do.”
Brett said, “Grandmother, would you like to see Linda before you go?”
A smile instantly spread across Delinda’s face, and she stood. “Is she awake? I would love to.”
Brett held his young daughter up to the camera, and Delinda cooed to her. She said, “Dee Dee,” and smiled, reaching her hands out in request for Delinda to pick her up.
Hailey added, “Skye will be sad she missed talking to you. We’d love to sign back on again this evening. Perhaps you could read her a story?”
Tears filled Delinda’s eyes once again. “I would love that.”
“Do you think now is the time to share our news?” Rachelle asked.
Magnus nodded.
“We’re having twins.”
Overcome with gratitude and love for her family, Delinda placed a hand over her heart. “We may not be your average family, but I wouldn’t change a single one of you.”
She waited for them to say the same. When they didn’t, she waved them off and ended the connection.
“That’s my cue to go,” Reggie said.
“Reggie,” Delinda said, “thank you for all you do for Eric, and for coming here today.”
Reggie nodded. “I hope you sort this out. Family’s important.”
“Yes, it is.” Delinda smiled at Michael. “And I’m very lucky to have the one I do—both the ones by blood and the ones by choice.”
Michael flushed, then cleared his throat. “I’ll walk you to the door, Mr. Pines.”
Chapter Twelve
Sage was gathering up her purse and phone when she heard a horn blaring from the street below. Rolling her eyes at the lack of consideration some people had for others, she almost ignored it, but it was so insistent that she went to her window. She half expected to see a car pileup or a street altercation in progress.
Her jaw dropped when she realized what the honking was for. The street was at a complete stop. People had gotten out of their vehicles to take pictures of Eric Westerly, standing half out of a long white limo with a bouquet of red roses in one hand. It looked like the final scene of a romantic comedy, and not one Sage ever imagined herself starring in. She stepped back from the window.
Was this his idea of an apology? A public spectacle? She didn’t wa
nt this—she wanted answers. Unable to leave through the front of the building, she decided to slip out the back. She made it as far as the alley before realizing that that, too, was blocked. Eric was at the entrance of it looking up at the fire escape as if he were about to scale it. The crowd surged and ebbed against a small army of security.
He sensed her presence, and the attention of the crowd turned to her. Instantly she was surrounded by people with cameras asking her if she was the reason Eric Westerly was there.
She shook her head while holding his gaze and shouted, “I’m sorry. You have the wrong woman. I don’t know him.”
He walked toward her with the arrogance and confidence she’d glimpsed in Wayne but without the softer side. “I’m here to rectify that.”
She didn’t want to have this or any conversation in front of a crowd of his fans. Without his scar, his Hollywood-perfect face looked alien to her. “I’m sorry. As I’ve said, you have the wrong woman.”
He held the flowers out to her. When she made no move to accept them, he threw them over his head toward the crowd. A wild dash was followed by one woman holding the red roses above her head with the triumph of some rabid bridesmaid.
They stood locked in silence while the crowd strained to hear. Several people were desperately trying to get close enough to record it on their phones. “I don’t want to do this here,” Sage said, breaking the quiet tension.
“Then come away with me. We can go anywhere, do anything. Do you want to talk about this over dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower? How about while dipping our toes in the water in Fiji? You name the place, and that’s where we’ll go.”
Her heart broke a little as she searched for but found no sign of the man she’d thought he was. “What are you doing here? What is this? I don’t understand.”
He reached for her hand, but she evaded his touch. “I’m showing you what we could have together. I’m sorry I wasn’t up front with you about my real name, but surely you can forgive me for needing to be careful. This is my life, Sage, and you could be part of it. Say yes, and you’ll never have to work another day in your life. You’ll never want for anything. You and I will travel the world together.”
Sage started shaking her head as he spoke. Nothing about the scene rang true. It wasn’t a declaration of love, and it didn’t feel like an apology. There was something burning in his eyes, but it wasn’t the desire she’d seen so many times in the past; it was—anger?
What have I done for you to be angry with me? I’m not the one who lied about who I was. I didn’t act like I cared one moment only to ditch you the next.
If she were a vindictive person, she would have thrown her questions at him right then, but even though he was breaking her heart, she didn’t want to hurt him. She’d known he wasn’t happy from the first time she’d seen him. She’d thought she could help him, but the man standing before her didn’t want help—he was there to prove something.
What?
What does he want from me?
She stepped closer and lowered her tone. This wasn’t the place or the situation in which she’d imagined them having this conversation, but he wasn’t leaving her much choice. “I don’t want flowers or gifts. I like my job and my life, so I don’t need to be rescued from either. I wanted the truth, but now I’m not even sure I want that. I don’t know you—not this you. I don’t understand what you’re doing here today. All I am sure of is that if you think I want what you’re offering, you don’t know me, and that’s the part that hurts the most.”
“I’m offering you everything, Sage.”
“Too bad it’s nothing I want,” she countered. “I’m sorry. Goodbye, Eric.”
She rushed away from him and the crowd before either could stop her. Sage ran inside, up four flights of stairs, and into her apartment. Only once she was safely inside, with her back against the door, did she give in to the emotions and questions swirling within her.
He had come to her, and she’d turned him away. Had it been the right choice?
She was still trying to catch her breath when she felt as well as heard a loud knock on her door. “Sage, open up. We need to talk,” Eric said.
She counted to ten, took several deep calming breaths, then turned and opened the door. “Wasn’t that what we just did in front of all of London?”
Still looking very much like a slick, groomed movie star, Eric walked past her. “Is that why you said no? Because there was an audience?”
She closed the door and hugged herself, trying to make sense of this new side of a man she’d thought she knew. “You lied to me.”
“You lie every day. Isn’t that what your career is all about?”
She gasped. “I didn’t lie to you. I let you in.”
“I don’t know how much of you is real and how much is a fabrication. It doesn’t matter, though. I want you in my life.”
“Doesn’t matter? What are you talking about? Who are you? Where’s the man I went to Stonehenge with?”
His hands fisted at his sides. “Wayne Easton doesn’t exist. Take a good look—this is the real me. But before you refuse me again, think about everything I could offer you. I’m not looking for a one-night stand. I want to make this work. If that means putting marriage on the table, I’ll do it.”
She shook her head again. “You don’t even sound like you like me.”
“But I want you.” He reached for her, hauling her against him. She wanted to resist, but her body came alive for him. Every single place their bodies touched sent fire licking through her. She’d dreamed of being his so many times. Sweet and tender sex . . . or rough and angry . . . it all sounded good to her right then. He leaned down and growled in her ear, “You want me just as badly.” He trailed kisses down her neck while cupping her ass and lifting her off the floor.
Sage’s legs naturally went around his waist even as she told herself not to give in to the desire rushing through her. He carried her through her apartment to her bedroom and tossed her down on the bed. The air sizzled with sexual tension.
“Tell me to go and I’ll go.” His eyes burned with need. “Or ask me to stay and I will.” He stood over her like a conquering pirate from every fantasy she’d ever had—impossible to resist, even though she knew she should.
Her brain argued that there were things they should discuss before going any further. It pleaded with her to slow down. Her body revved louder than those thoughts.
She’d wanted him, had wanted him for long enough that the promise of finally having him outweighed every reason she shouldn’t. No one had ever made her feel so out of control. No one might ever again. She was a woman who followed her heart, and it was saying it was willing to risk getting broken if it meant having this. They did have a lot to talk out, but couldn’t that happen after she visited heaven?
She sat up on the bed, struggling to maintain control of both herself and the situation. “I—we—” She met his eyes and desire won. “Stay.”
He stripped off his shirt, revealing a powerful chest and six-pack abs. He didn’t hesitate. In a few efficient movements, he discarded his clothing and tossed a condom on the bed beside her. “Come here.”
Her gaze dropped to his cock, fully erect and irresistibly large. If this was a mistake in the making, she couldn’t imagine regretting it. She moved to a kneeling position and began to unbutton her shirt. “Why don’t you come here?” With him she felt bolder, sexually playful in a way she’d previously lacked the confidence to be. She slipped her shirt off and dropped it beside the bed, then undid her bra and tossed it aside as well.
With a growl, he helped her stand, then removed her shoes and eased her out of her pants and undies. He crawled up onto the bed in front of her and caressed her breasts gently. “So beautiful.”
She couldn’t resist running her hands down his flat stomach to his eager shaft. “You’re not so bad yourself.” His throbbing cock jerked at her touch.
When his mouth claimed hers, she gave herself over to the pleasu
re of it. He took her mouth boldly, as if it were his to have. His touch was just as confident and proprietorial. And she loved it.
There was no holding back for either of them. She hungrily dug her fingers into his muscular back when he moved his mouth down to her breasts. He circled one nub with his tongue, nipped at it gently, then moved his attention to her other. She alternated from caressing his rock-hard cock to running her hands over every inch of him she could reach. It was all equally good.
He lowered her to the bed and ordered her not to move. She could have protested, but she was eager for whatever pleasure he wanted to bring her. He kissed his way down her chest, across her stomach, and settled himself between her legs.
She closed her eyes and gripped the bedsheets as he parted her sex and dipped his tongue into her. She was drowning in the sensations, mewing for him not to stop. He circled her clit, teased it, did a mind-shattering combination of sucking and flicking that had her arching off the bed. Just when she was thinking it couldn’t get better, he thrust a finger inside her and worked it at just the right angle to send heat flooding through her. There was no reprieve from the pleasure, though. His mouth was relentless, and he moved his finger in and out of her with increasing speed until the first wave of heat gave way to another, stronger flood of release.
She cried out mindlessly.
He withdrew. She was too dazed to either move or protest. A moment later, he was back and sheathed in a condom. He kissed her again deeply. She opened her mouth and her legs wide for him. He raised his head and dipped the tip of his cock inside her. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation and held his gaze.
“You’re mine now, Sage,” he growled, and thrust powerfully into her.
She gasped with pleasure and clenched herself around him.
There was no tenderness in this mating. He pounded down into her. She met him thrust for thrust. Her frustration with him, her confusion and heartache, surfaced and added a wildness to her own movements. She pulled his head down and kissed him angrily. How dare he call her his?
Nothing she’d ever shared with a man prepared her for how good and how equally bad being with him felt. Even as she felt her body begin to flush in preparation for another climax, she hit his chest with a clenched fist. This wasn’t love—this was something else—and it felt wrong to enjoy it.