Passion and Surrender (The Billionaire's Temptation Book 6) (16 page)

“Marshall…please…” She sobbed out her words, but he didn’t care. “I still love you. There might not be a baby, but we could try to make our marriage work again…we could try to start a family. I swear I’ll be different this time. And I only did those things because I wanted to get you back. I got desperate when you kept pushing me away, so I lied…I thought we could make it work if you thought there was a baby. But then that stupid whore got in the way.”

Claire was clearly delusional, though none of that mattered. The only thing he cared about was Harper—and getting her back. Claire had been manipulating him from the start, and though he might not have the evidence needed to prove Claire was behind the thefts, he knew it in his gut, now more than ever.

Not wanting to hear another word, another lie, he hung up on Claire, and then dialed Keane’s number. “Look into Claire. Into her financials, into her having any sort of contact with any of the employees at Clio. She’s behind this, okay? Just get the evidence we need to nail her.”

“Is there any chance Claire could be working with Harper?” Keane still sounded doubtful, but Marshall knew his brother was just looking out for him.

“Not a chance in hell. Claire hates her, and I have proof it wasn’t Harper. She was with me when one of the log-ins occurred on her computer. And there’s more… The baby? Yeah…it never existed. Claire was lying the whole time.”

“Fucking hell, Marshall…I can’t believe that bitch would go to such lengths. But this is good, right? And…I’m glad it’s not Harper. She seemed nice—and you seemed happy. I’m just sorry it got messed up.” Marshall could hear the regret in his brother’s voice, though it was a small consolation. “I’ll keep you updated. We’ll get to the bottom of this. You have my word.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Harper tried to distract herself from the ache in her heart, but to no avail. It’d been over a week since she last saw Marshall, and though he continued to call and leave messages, she couldn’t bring herself to listen to them. Whatever he had to say no longer mattered, since it was clear he didn’t trust her or have any faith in what they’d felt for each other.

And why should he? They may have known each other for close to a year, but they’d only been dating a short while—if you could even call it dating. More like falling in love while fucking. Because there was no denying that she had indeed fallen in love with him, even if it proved to be a huge mistake.

Harper glanced over at Hawke as he walked into the room with Guinness, who raced past him to sit at her side, his tail wagging furiously as if he was seeing her for the first time in days. She gave the big black dog a scratch on the head, appreciating how the simple act of petting him always seemed to calm her. “Are you two heading out?”

“I am—and you’re coming with us. Guinness wants to run on the shore and it’ll do you some good to get out of the house. You’re starting to look like a sea captain’s wife, constantly sitting by the window, looking forlorn as you wait for your love to return to you on the tide.” As an artist—and a well accomplished one at that—Hawke always had a way of painting a picture, even if it was with his words. It was as if he could somehow see the story in every scene, and it was just waiting for him to bring it to life with a stroke of his brush.

The depression that kept threatening to take her since London loomed around her like a poisonous fog, clinging to her very soul, and she knew firsthand how easy it’d be to let it take hold of her, just like it had after her breakup with Josh. So when her cousin took her hand in his and pulled her to her feet, she let him.

Though it was a bright and sunny day in early May, they were in Maine, and with the wind blowing in off the ocean, it was still blustery and cold. She snuggled deeper into her jacket as she walked the beach with Hawke, who was certainly the quieter of the twins, though they never really discussed his past. They may have grown up in a wealthy family, but it hadn’t spared them a decade of heartache and abuse.

She couldn’t even fathom what the twins had been through, and was well aware that she didn’t know the whole story. But what she did know was that Hawke…he’d taken the brunt of the abuse to spare his brother, and it had changed him forever.

“What will you do, pumpkin?” She loved that they still used their nickname for her from when they were kids. “Although you know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I’m sure we could even put you on the payroll if you’d like, since Archer has more than he can handle on his plate trying to handle the media, sales, and gallery showings.”

“I appreciate it, Hawke.” She didn’t know what she’d have done if she’d been left to deal with her nightmare of a life in Portmore. “You and Archer mean the world to me, though my dad will eventually be getting out of rehab and I want to be there for him when he gets back. That won’t be for some time, though, so I can stay a bit longer.”

“What about this guy—Marshall? I’d like to say he doesn’t deserve you, but…you’ve been downright miserable.” Hawke picked up the stick that Guinness dropped at his feet and tossed it as far as he could, so the big black mutt went tearing across the beach. “Will you give him another chance?”

“I just don’t know, Hawke.”

“Well, I hate to say it, but you might need to make a decision sooner rather than later, though I’m not sure Archer will put the bridge down to let him pass. And then there’s the little matter of him getting past the shotgun.” He tilted his head towards the bridge that linked the island with the mainland and the car driving over it.

Clearly, the sign stating that the bridge and island were private property hadn’t been much of a deterrent to Marshall. Not that he’d be getting far with part of the bridge up.

“I don’t think I can bear to see him, Hawke.” She already sounded panicky.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Harper. You know that.” He shifted towards her, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he gave her a shrug, his broad shoulders sheltering her from the wind. “But…miserable as you’ve been, I think you should at least hear him out. If for no other reason than to get some closure so you can move past this.”

“I know you’re right…I just don’t know if I can bear to see him again.” Her gut was already in knots. Yet, despite the heartache, despite the hurt he’d caused, she found herself drawn to Marshall, her pulse skittering away at the mere thought of him.

“Did you truly love him, Harper?” Hawke tilted his head as if catching every nuance of light and color in her face.

“Yeah…I did. Still do, I’m afraid.” It’d be a hell of a lot easier if she didn’t. “But that doesn’t excuse what he did.”

“No, pumpkin. It doesn’t. But you never know what he might have to say for himself. And this way it’ll keep you from questioning whether or not you made the right decision.” He whistled to the dog, and started heading back to the house, slowing his long stride so she could easily keep up with him. “Just remember…you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. It’s been great having you around, since it’s just Archer and me most days.”

She knew that was an understatement. Hawke’s abuse had left him withdrawn from the world, putting Archer in charge of selling Hawke’s art and going to gallery showings, although they certainly didn’t need the money. She supposed that as an artist, there was an element of wanting to share the beauty he’d created, even if Hawke never got to see the reactions to his work firsthand.

Given that they were identical, she knew that the outside world didn’t realize that Hawke was a twin, especially since he was so reclusive. As an added measure of privacy, he also sold his paintings under a different name entirely, one Archer also adopted when dealing with the outside world. The twins were essentially one person, as far as the outside world was concerned.

Slipping her hand around Hawke’s arm, she looked up at her cousin, thinking he was so handsome, talented, and kind—and thinking it such a waste that so much of his childhood and innocence had been stolen from him. “I wish you’d get out more, Hawke. There’s so much to see and do.”

“Maybe someday.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Marshall had to give Harper credit. If her plan had been to get away from him and make it nearly impossible for him to find her, then she’d certainly done one hell of a job. Not only were her cousins and everything they owned well off the radar, they also lived nearly four hours from Portmore on a private island off the coast of Maine. He was just lucky that Hadley was damn good at her job, and somehow managed to find them.

He didn’t know what Harper’s cousins did for a living, but if the old Victorian mansion and private island were anything to go by, money wasn’t an issue. No wonder she said she had other options than stealing Clio’s designs for money if she got desperate. The fact that he’d thought her capable of such things…he was such a fucking ass.

Halfway across the bridge, he came to a section of it that was raised like a drawbridge, preventing him going any farther. He threw his car in park, but before he could get out to deal with the intercom that would have him pleading his case to a metal box, the bridge started to lower.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he tried to wrangle his thoughts. There was so much to tell Harper—and he’d do everything he could to get her back. He’d been a miserable wreck since she left, and not having her in his life just wasn’t an option.

By the time he pulled up in front of the massive home, which was reminiscent of the Newport mansions both in style and age, there was a man already standing at the front door, a shotgun at his side. And though he didn’t feel like getting shot, there was no fucking way he was leaving without Harper.

“You have some balls showing up here after what you put Harper through.” The man was tall with a muscular build, in his late twenties, with dark hair and fiercely blue eyes, though whether this was Archer or Hawke, Marshall hadn’t a clue. Nor did he know how to get past the shotgun if Harper didn’t want to come out to speak to him.

“I’m just asking her to hear me out—and I’m not leaving until she’s done just that.”
Fuck
…they were multiplying. The other twin came out and stood by his brother’s side so Marshall now had two of them to deal with. “I don’t care how many of you there are—
I’m not going
.”

“Are you sure about that?” The shotgun got cocked, but Marshall held his ground.

“Harper!”
He called out as loud as he could, hoping she could hear him through the massive oak doors. “For fuck’s sake—just talk to me.
Please.
”

The second twin stepped forward, tension in his every move as if he was ready to pounce—not that Marshall cared. He could take care of himself, and he wasn’t going anywhere without Harper. “What exactly are your intentions? Because you’ve put her through more than enough already, and if you’re here just to stir up trouble, you can take your sorry ass and your accusations the fuck out of here.”

“It was never my intention to hurt her, but this discussion is between me and her—not the two of you.” He didn’t care if he pissed them off. But before things could escalate and get ugly, the door opened and Harper stepped out, the wind catching her dark hair and streaking it across her pale skin.

His heart pounded inside his chest at the mere sight of her, his body moving towards her as if drawn by an invisible force—and
fuck
…she wouldn’t even look at him, as if it was too much to bear. “There’s nothing to say, Marshall.”

He took several more steps towards her, doing his best to shrug past the twins, needing to be with her, needing to hold her in his arms again. “That’s where you’re wrong. Just hear me out, sunshine…please. And then if you still want me to go, I will.”

“Fine…I’ll hear you out since you came all this way, but then you’re leaving.” Harper reassured her cousins and though they stepped aside, neither of them was looking all that happy about it.

When she started walking towards one of the gardens, he stepped to her side and followed her, forcing him to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until all their problems dissipated in the heat between them. Once they rounded the house and had a bit of privacy, she slowed to a stop and turned to face him.

Tears shimmered in her eyes—but only for a moment, as if the wind were at fault rather than the small fact that he’d been a complete jerk to her. Or maybe it was because she was done with him and she wouldn’t be wasting any more tears on what they once had together. “Why did you come here, Marshall? Because if you think there’s anything left between us, let me just stop you right there.”

“You know that’s a lie, Harper. We might be the two most miserable people on the planet right about now, but the reason we’re miserable is because we’re apart when we should be together.” She could deny it all she wanted but they both knew it was nothing but the truth.

She scoffed at him with a shake of her head. “If that was the case, then you’d think you might actually trust me—which you don’t. And don’t get me wrong—I get it. There’s a mole at Clio and you’ve been desperately trying to get to the bottom of it.”

“There
was
a mole, or rather, moles, Harper. We caught them. That’s the other reason I’m here. I wanted you to know that Claire was behind it all. She had several of my employees on her payroll—Todd included.” Yet again, Claire had somehow managed to get people he worked with to betray him, for money this time instead of sex, though whether they were also sleeping together, he didn’t know—nor did he care.

“
Todd?
No…I can’t believe it.” Any walls she’d put up came crashing down, her emotions written all of her face.

“I’m sorry, Harper, I really am. But he confessed to all of it. It was how Claire was able to plant the evidence that would make us suspect you. It was also why the evidence only recently started pointing in your direction, though Todd may have been planning to use you as a scapegoat all along, since he knew Ben worked for Titan and you were friends. And then once Claire realized we were together, she knew she could come between us and hurt me further by making me think it was you.” Marshall felt horrible that he’d put Harper through this—and he felt like an ass for letting Claire manipulate him yet again and allowing her to come between them.

“I guess she did a damn good job of it.” This time, her tears spilled over, as if it was finally all too much to hold together.

Hating to see her upset, he pulled her into his arms as she wept, ignoring her struggles to get free. She finally gave up and settled in his arms as he held her tight, doing his best to soothe her until her tears finally slowed. “Harper…I was a fucking idiot, and I swear I’ll do everything I can to make this up to you, to fix what I screwed up. And I know I screwed up. I know I should have never doubted you…never doubted what was between us.”

She pounded his chest in frustration. “How could you, Marshall? Do you know how hard it was for me to open up to you, to let you into my heart? I trusted you not to hurt me, and you betrayed that trust in practically the same breath as the one you used to tell me you loved me.”

“I didn’t want to believe it, Harper—and I wasn’t looking for evidence to incriminate you, but to prove to Keane that you were innocent. But…I had been so incredibly wrong about Claire, and I didn’t trust my judgment anymore.” He let out a deep sigh, still hating himself that he’d let Claire manipulate him all this time. “My issues got in the way of what I knew to be the truth. And I never should have let you go. But Harper…being apart just isn’t an option. I love you more than anything—and I want you to come home with me.”

“I don’t know that I can, Marshall.” She shrugged out of his embrace and took a step back, distancing herself from him.

He snagged her hand, refusing to let her go. He couldn’t. Not when she was the only thing that mattered. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”

She glared at him, her blue eyes fierce. “Damn it, Marshall. You know I did.”

“Then I’m asking for one more chance. Come back to Portmore. Because what we have hasn’t been given a fair chance, and there’s no fucking way I’m giving up on us. I fucking love you, Harper.” And then he was closing the distance between them, cupping her face in his hands and catching her mouth in a kiss as he hauled her body to his.

Her struggles ceased as she softened in his arms, their kiss deepening until she planted her hands on his chest and pushed him away, though he managed to keep his hold on her. “Kissing me doesn’t change the fact that you thought I’d betrayed you—and you let me walk away. You knew how upset I was, knew how difficult it was for me to get on that plane, and you still let me go. You continued to think that I was behind the thefts.”

“I fucked up, Harper—I know I did. And maybe I don’t deserve another chance. But you know what? I’m going to ask for it anyway because I’m fucking miserable without you. I can’t think straight, and I can’t get you out of my head…out of my heart.” Now wasn’t the time to hold anything back. Not if he had any hope of her giving him another chance. “I swear, I’ve never felt this way about anyone—not even close. I love you, Harper—just like you love me—and I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to you, making you happy. You’re my everything, and leaving here without you isn’t an option—even if your cousins will likely blow a hole through me for attempting to take you home.”

“They are just a little protective of me.” The slightest smile slipped onto her lips, and he swore he could feel her resolve softening just a little. “I suppose I’d rather not get my cousins tossed in jail for murder, though I suspect they could do a pretty good job of burying your body or feeding it to the fishes.”

“I know I fucked up, Harper. That’s not even a question. But I need you to give me—
give us
—another chance. Because if you truly love me, then you know that being apart will do nothing but destroy us both.” He cupped her cheek, and bent his head to hers, breathing in deep so her familiar scent filled his head. “I love you, Harper…more than anything, I love you.”

“You know I love you, Marshall—but you questioned it, questioned me and my integrity—and that fucking hurt.” The pain in her voice killed him…yet, when he nuzzled her, she didn’t pull away but rather leaned into him, as if she too couldn’t resist the pull between them.

“Come on, Harper…you have to head home sometime. And I swear I’ll do everything I can to make things right between us.” It might be a reach, but they’d been flirting over coffee and donuts since he first met her, and it just might be enough of a sentimental excuse to get her to agree to come with him. “And just in case you’re on the fence, I know of this amazing donut shop on the way home.”

Her eyes narrowed as if mulling things over—or just to ensure he suffered just a little while longer. “Do they have Boston Cream?”

“You bet, sunshine.”

“Not that this means you’re forgiven.”