His Most Suitable Bride (4 page)

He hesitated, seeming to rethink what he’d been about to say.

“Since when?”

“Since Miranda’s accident.”

Reese’s stomach took a hard roll. They never spoke of Miranda, or the accident that had taken her away from him. Now, after last night at the opera, Reese couldn’t stop thinking of her, or how he’d sat at her bedside, willing her to stay alive, begging her to come back to him, praying for God to intervene.

She’d woken but briefly, said his name in a soft, wheezing whisper and then died in his arms.

She’d been eighteen years old. He the same age. They’d had only one month of happiness together. Thirty days.

Not enough.

And yet, far too much. He knew exactly what happiness looked like, felt like and, more important, how quickly it could be taken away.

“I don’t wish to speak of Miranda.”

“You can’t run from the past.”

He had every intention of trying. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me? Something important?”

“This is important.”

Reese said nothing.

His father came to stand next to him. “You need to get married again. I think it will help you.”

Was the man in collusion with Beatrix Singletary? Impossible. Though they were polite with one another on most occasions, the two rarely saw eye-to-eye on most subjects. “I attempted to marry again, but—”

“You chose the wrong girl.”

Although he’d come to realize that himself, his father’s quick response gave Reese pause. “I believed you liked Fanny. You’ve been friends with her parents for years. If I remember correctly, which I do, you said you would welcome a match between myself and Cyrus Mitchell’s daughter.”

“I meant the other one. There is substance to Callie Mitchell, something far more interesting than most see when they first meet her. I thought you agreed.”

His heart gave a few thick beats in his chest. Oh, Reese agreed there was much lurking beneath Callie’s sensible exterior—a wild, perhaps even passionate streak that, if unleashed, could possibly lead to a life of recklessness.

He knew far too well how that ended.

A tap on the doorjamb heralded Reese’s law clerk. A thin young man with regular features and an eager smile, Julian Summers was detail-oriented and thus invaluable to the firm. “Mrs. Singletary’s companion is here to see you, Mr. Bennett.”

His father lifted an ironic eyebrow.

Ignoring this, Reese stood and circled around his desk. “Send her in, Julian.”

“Yes, sir.”

A handful of seconds after the clerk disappeared in the hallway, Callie appeared, head high, spine ramrod-stiff, chin at a perfect ninety-degree angle with the floor. At the sight of her, Reese went hot all over, the inexplicable sensation similar to a burst of anger.

She was the same woman she’d always been. Yet, not. The past few hours had produced a remarkable transformation. Her cheeks had gained color. Her eyes sparkled.

Her skin glowed.

Simply because she no longer wore that gray shapeless garment from this morning but a blue silk dress that complemented her lean, lithe figure and brought out the green in her eyes.

The effect was devastating. Disconcerting.

Any words of greeting vanished from his mind.

There was something unreal about Callie now, something vulnerable and highly appealing. The impact of her beauty nearly flattened him.

Confounded by his reaction to a simple change of clothes, he blinked at her. “Miss Mitchell, I...” His brain emptied of all thought. Why was she here, looking like a fairy-tale princess? “That is, I wasn’t expecting you.”

She shifted from one foot to the other, then snapped her shoulders back. Ah, there she was. The Callie Mitchell he knew. “Mrs. Singletary sent me to pick up a package you were to have ready for her this afternoon.”

He couldn’t think of what package she meant. He remained silent so long his father cleared his throat.

Still, Reese couldn’t make his mind work properly.

“Well, if it isn’t Callie Mitchell.” His father shoved around him. “How are you, my dear?”

“Mr. Bennett.” She hurried to him, reaching out her hands to clasp his in greeting. “What a wonderful surprise to see you here today.”

He smiled broadly. “You are utterly captivating.”

Her face brightened at the compliment. “What a sweet thing to say.”

“Only the truth, my dear. Only the truth.”

Until this moment, Reese had forgotten how well his father and Callie got along. Watching the two interact so easily, their heads bent at similar angles, he found himself stewing in an unpleasant rush of...

Jealousy?

Absurd. Reese couldn’t be jealous of his own father.

And yet, he had to take slow, measured breaths to prevent himself from walking over to the pair, shoving his father aside and insisting Callie pay attention to him. Only him. As if he was some sort of spoiled, selfish child with no manners or common sense.

He managed to avoid stooping quite that low. “Callie.” He barked out her name. “A word, please, in private.”

One stilted sentence and Reese had crossed several unimaginable lines.

His father’s responding grin spoke volumes. As did Callie’s reaction. Had she stiffened at the familiar use of her name? Or because of the inappropriate request itself?

Reese wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. But he made no attempt to retract his words. This conversation had been coming on for some time.

No turning back now.

Chapter Four

Y
ears of practiced restraint kept Callie from gasping at Reese’s request. But...but...
glory.
He’d just asked to speak with her. Alone.

She couldn’t think why.

And that, Callie decided, was the primary source of her distress. Her shoulders wanted to bunch. Her knees threatened to give way beneath her. But she remained perfectly still.

Perfectly.

Still.

No easy task. Not with Reese looking at her with all that intensity. He was so focused on her she had a sudden, irrational urge to rush out of his office without a backward glance.

Callie had never been one to run from a difficult conversation. She would not start now.

Still, Reese’s command, spoken so abruptly, was out of character. Why would he wish to speak with her,
alone?

Seeking a clue—any would do—she slid a covert glance over his face. His chin jerked, very faintly, a sure sign that he’d shocked even himself with his words.

“Well, then.” A corner of the elder Mr. Bennett’s mouth curled upward. “I believe that’s my cue to depart.”

Callie started. She’d forgotten Reese’s father still held her hands. Had he noticed the faint tremor in her fingers?

“There’s no need to leave so soon,” she said on an exhale. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded exceptionally calm, almost detached, with the emotional depth of a stone.
Perfect.
“I’m sure whatever your son has to say can be expressed in front of you.”

She hoped.

“Perhaps. But alas, I have another appointment calling me away.” With a fatherly smile, he gave her hands a quick squeeze before releasing her. “It was a pleasure running in to you, my dear. We must make this a more common occurrence.”

The kindness in his voice, as much as the sentiment itself, calmed her nerves considerably.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Bennett.” She managed to get both sides of her mouth to lift in a responding smile. “That would be lovely, indeed.”

She’d always felt comfortable around this man, as though he was a second father. Callie desperately wanted him to stay but couldn’t think of a reason why he should, other than to beg him to serve as a shield between her and his son.

Callie Mitchell was made of sterner stuff.

“Reese.” Mr. Bennett gave his son a short nod. “We will continue our discussion another time.”

A muscle knotted in Reese’s jaw as he returned his father’s nod with one of his own.

Another smile in Callie’s direction and the elder Mr. Bennett quit the room.

She remained precisely where she stood, twisting the handle of her reticule between her fingers. She hated this anxious, almost panicky sensation spreading through her. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be helped. Simply standing in the same room with Reese caused her anxiety.

She should not be here, alone with him.

She wanted to be nowhere else.

Time slowed. The moment grew thick with tension, the silence between them so heavy that Callie could hear their individual breathing.

“I don’t think this is a wise idea, Mr. Bennett,” she said, mostly to herself, and meaning it with all her heart.

“Callie.” His lips flattened in a grim line. “At this juncture in our acquaintance, perhaps it’s time you called me Reese.”

She looked at him blankly, absently noting the way sunlight from the window emphasized the dark, rich brown of his eyes, the color of freshly brewed coffee. “Oh. But I—”

“I insist.” His tone was both gentle and firm.

A dangerous pang snatched at her heart and the rebellious part of her thought,
Well, why not, we’ve known one another for years?

“If you insist.” She lifted her chin a fraction higher. “Then, yes, I should very much like to call you Reese.”

His name came from low in her throat, and sounded really quite wonderful, as if she’d been meant to say his name, just that way, all her life.

She sighed. “Was that all you wished to say to me?”

“No.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Forgive me for not getting to the point sooner. I’ve spent the majority of the afternoon pouring over legal briefs and my mind is still half on the pages.”

His confession softened her guard and Callie found herself feeling a moment of deep affection for this man. “My brother is much the same way,” she said. “After a long day of pouring over contracts, Garrett is the worst conversationalist imaginable.”

Reese visibly relaxed at this. “Then you understand my abruptness earlier.”

“Indeed I do.”

A shadow of a smile played across his lips.

Callie responded in kind.

For that one moment, everything felt right between them, comfortable even, a solidarity that went beyond words.

But then...

Reese’s brow creased in thought. His brow often creased in thought, she realized, rather liking the result. The studious look made him appear half as stern as usual, twice as appealing. And so very, very handsome.

“You mentioned that Mrs. Singletary sent you over to retrieve a package from me.” His brows pulled tighter together, making him appear more confused than thoughtful. “Do you know what package she meant?”

“She didn’t give me any details.” Callie tried to shrug off her own bafflement. “She merely said that you would be expecting me before the end of business today.”

Frowning now, he glanced at his desk.

Callie followed the direction of his gaze, but saw no package, only several piles of papers, a cup of writing utensils, countless ledgers of assorted sizes and an ink pot.

“She must have meant the revised contracts.” Making a sound deep in his throat, Reese moved around to the other side of his desk. Instead of reaching for one of the larger stacks, he placed his hand over a single piece of paper. Folded from top to bottom, it looked more like a letter than a legal brief.

Shaking his head, he muttered something under his breath. Callie didn’t catch all of what he said, but she thought she might have heard something about
meddlesome, interfering woman.

“Mr. Bennett...I mean, Reese,” she amended when he looked up sharply. “Is something the matter?”

He drummed his fingers atop the letter. “No.” He drew in a slow, careful breath. “Everything is in order.”

His tone said otherwise.

“You are certain?”

For a span of three breaths, he said nothing, merely held her gaze. Then, he gave a single nod of his head. “Yes.”

He looked back down at his desk, reached out and stuffed one of the smaller stacks into a leather satchel.

He started to flip over the lid then paused.

His gaze shifted to where the folded piece of paper still sat. A moment’s hesitation and, with a swift move, he picked up the letter and placed that inside the satchel, as well.

His lips were twisted at a wry angle as he came back around his desk. “Here you are. The
package
Mrs. Singletary sent you to retrieve.”

“Thank you.”

Their fingers briefly touched as he transferred the satchel into her care. Callie smothered a gasp as her heartbeat picked up speed. Her mouth went dry.

Every muscle in her body tensed.

Her strong, inexplicable, tangible reaction over a light brush of their hands mortified her.

Hiding her reaction beneath lowered lashes, she turned to go.

Reese’s voice stopped her at the threshold of his office. “Callie.”

She paused, looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“I still have more to say to you.”

Glory. That sounded ominous.

His footsteps struck the wood floor as he approached her from behind. Closer. Closer. He reached around her, grabbed the door as if to shut it, then quickly dropped his hand and stepped back.

Callie felt a cold rush of air sweep over her.

“I prefer not to speak to your back.”

She turned around to face him.

He leaned toward her, a mere fraction closer. “I wanted to tell you...” His words trailed off as he considered her through slightly narrowed eyes. “That is, have a nice day.”

Have a nice day? Reese had asked her to face him so he could tell her to
have a nice day?

Perplexed, she gave up all pretense of control and gaped at the confounding man. If she was wise, she would turn around again and walk out the door. After, of course, she issued the same nonsensical platitude he’d just given her.

Or...

She could be a little more daring. She could tap in to the woman she’d been long ago, before a secret scandal had nearly ruined her.

“No, Reese.” She took a step toward him. “I will not have a nice day.”

A single, winged eyebrow lifted in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“I have five brothers,” she said in way of explanation. “Three older and two younger.”

Now both eyebrows rose.

It was a very intimidating look. Dark, brooding, slightly dangerous. Most women would be cowed. Callie was not. “I know precisely when a man is skirting around the truth.”

“Did you just call me out for lying?”

At the sound of his masculine outrage, mutiny swept through her, making her bolder than she’d been in a very long time.

“Take it however you will. But I’m not leaving this office until you tell me exactly why you really asked to speak with me—” she closed the distance between them and pinned him with her gaze “—and why you requested to do so in private.”

* * *

Reese’s chest felt odd. His pulse quickened in his veins. His throat tightened. All because this woman, a woman he’d known for years, had morphed into a completely different creature than the docile, overly polite, levelheaded wallflower she presented to the world.

The transformation had nothing to do with the clothes she wore. And everything to do with the woman herself.

Proud and defiant now, her unwavering gaze locked with his. She was clearly waiting for him to explain himself, to tell her why he’d requested a private word with her.

He couldn’t remember why. He could barely organize his thoughts beyond the shocked realization that the woman leaning toward him with a fierce scowl on her face was a total stranger.

Callie Mitchell usually drifted along the edges of most rooms, never drawing attention to herself, never making waves. At the moment, that woman was nowhere to be found.

On the surface, she’d changed nothing but her dress. Yet now, Reese saw the woman beneath the dull facade. A little wilder, a tad more dangerous, exciting and—

“Reese?”

He’d been staring too long.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again as several voices rang out from the hallway. Not wanting an audience, Reese reached to take Callie’s arm. He dropped his hand before making contact. Touching her would be a terrible idea.

The worst of all terrible ideas.

He motioned her deeper into the office with a nod of his head. He did not, however, close the door behind her.

There was privacy. And then there was
privacy.

“Please, Callie, take a seat.” He indicated the set of chairs facing his desk.

She nodded, moving through the room with exaggerated dignity, her steps graceful yet carefully monitored.

Always so controlled,
he thought, always hiding behind a veil of self-possession and restraint.

How well he understood.

The realization they had that in common left him vaguely disturbed.

Her posture perfectly precise, she lowered into the burgundy wing-back chair facing his desk and placed the leather satchel upon her lap.

After a moment of consideration, Reese chose to sit in the empty chair beside her.

She twisted her hands together. With all emotion stripped from her face, she nearly fooled him into thinking she was completely self-possessed. But her gaze didn’t quite meet his, landing instead on a spot just above his right eye.

She was nervous.

Good to know he wasn’t the only one feeling uneasy.

Now that he had Callie alone—mostly—Reese wasn’t sure how to broach the subject that had been nagging at him for some time now. The direct approach was always best. “We need to discuss the changing nature of our relationship.”

Her gaze whipped to his and he noted, somewhat inappropriately, that her eyelashes were long, utterly enchanting and several shades darker than her blond hair.

“I wasn’t aware we had a relationship.”

He frowned at her stiff tone, oddly irritated. “Of course we do.” It was awkward and uncomfortable, to be sure, but existed all the same. “Now that you are Mrs. Singletary’s companion and I’m once again in charge of her business affairs, our paths will cross often.”

“Mrs. Singletary said the same thing just this morning.” She lowered her gaze. “My brother taking that job in St. Louis has brought changes to all our lives.”

Before now, Reese hadn’t considered what the attorney’s departure meant to Callie. “You miss him.”

“Very much.” She worked her hands together in her lap. “I also miss his wife, Molly.”

“You two were close?”

“Oh, yes, but not as close as—” She broke off, drew her bottom lip between her teeth, looked everywhere but at him.

“Not as close as you and Fanny,” he finished for her.

She nodded. “I miss her most of all.”

“That’s understandable. You are sisters. And the only two girls in a large family of boys.” As an only child he couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up with that many siblings.

“Fanny has always been my best friend.” She met his gaze. “We are only eleven months apart in age.”

Reese tried not to show his surprise, even as he did a mental calculation. He’d always thought Callie far older than her sister. Her maturity, her outer calm and, of course, her ability to control her emotions were qualities he attributed to a woman far older than twenty-three.

“Have you heard from your sister recently?”

“No.” She shook her head. “She has not answered any of my letters.”

“None of them?”

“Not one.”

That didn’t sound like Fanny. Then again, Reese was quickly discovering how little he knew the woman he’d once asked to marry him. How could she not respond to her only sister’s letters?