The Millionaire's Unexpected Proposal (Entangled Indulgence) (11 page)

Chapter Eleven

Camilla woke up alone in the wide expanse of bed the next morning. She didn’t know where Sam had slept the night before, but it hadn’t been with her. The sheets on his side of the bed were cool and smooth, in contrast to the tangled sheets and rumpled pillow she’d wrestled with during a fitful night.

At every turn, Sam found out some new piece of information and used it to think the worst of her. Did he bother to ask
why
Olivia had gone away to school? No, he just assumed Camilla hadn’t wanted her around when nothing could have been further from the truth. At first, it really hadn’t mattered what he thought, as long as he married her and kept the Winthrops from taking JD. But the more time he spent with JD and Olivia, the more comfortable he seemed to be in the role of father and big brother. Beneath the arrogant manner, there was a kindness in him she hadn’t expected and that she found very appealing. She’d hoped that once he saw how close the bond was between her and JD and Olivia, he’d stop judging her so harshly. The more she began to like and respect the person he’d become, the more it hurt that he seemed incapable of seeing the person she really was inside.

She looked at the clock on the nightstand and was surprised that it was already after 7:00 a.m. She’d gotten used to waking up when she heard Sam getting ready for work. She’d even slipped into the shower with him a few times. The thought of her own body, soapy and slick while those talented hands moved over her, touching and teasing, sent a quick shiver through her.

He could take cold showers from now on, as far as she was concerned. By himself.

She stepped into the shower herself, turned on the double jets, let the steamy water run over her, and tried to push away any thoughts of ever again sharing the intimate space with Sam.

She’d actually started to think there might be a connection building between them, not just physically but emotionally. They shared a child, and that was a strong bond. They didn’t love each other, but neither had she and Danny when they got married. With Danny, it had been a business proposition, pure and simple. The consummate playboy she’d known in college had become a bitter prisoner not only of his wheelchair, but of his controlling and disapproving parents. They’d cut him off from any serious money, and confined him to a reclusive life in their country estate, never missing an opportunity to remind him that his own reckless lifestyle and bad judgment were the reasons he ended up in this condition. An impulse to race a friend in his new Lamborghini had shattered his spinal cord—and his future—in a horrific clash of twisted metal, causing the damage to his lungs that eventually led to his death. He’d had the best possible care, and no freedom.

But he did have a very substantial trust fund. Complete control of which reverted to him automatically the day he turned thirty years old or married, whichever occurred first. At the age of twenty-three, the years until he turned thirty must have stretched ahead of him like an eternity.

So when Danny learned about the tragedy that struck Camilla’s family—and her futile efforts to raise the money for Olivia’s medical procedures and rehabilitation—he’d called her out of the blue and asked her to come see him.

She remembered the iron gates to his family estate swinging open, the long drive to the front door, the austere and hushed surroundings, and the antiseptic feel of the third-floor wing that had been converted to a suite suited more to an aging invalid than the cocky, daredevil playboy she’d known in college. She’d never dated him—his arrogance, his caustic wit, and his enormous ego had never appealed to her. But a few of her friends had been in the long line of flavor-of-the-month girls who had benefited from his lavish gifts, extravagant spending, and reputed prowess in bed.

The man who had greeted her from his wheelchair, dismissing with a wave of his hand the servant who had escorted her up in the elevator, seemed every bit as high-handed as the guy she’d known. But that was where the resemblance ended. His rakishly handsome face was etched with faint lines, his eyes seemed dulled from too many painkillers, his once-tanned complexion was sallow, and his athletic body was shrunken.

Then his eyes had met hers and she’d realized they weren’t dulled at all. The spark was still there.

He hadn’t bothered with pleasantries. He’d shifted forward slightly in his state-of-the-art wheelchair, leaning on his thin arms. “I understand you need cash, Camilla. A lot of it. Let me tell you what we’re going to do.”

And that had been that. Danny would have access to the money right after they were married. Olivia would get the best care available, and funds would be set aside in an irrevocable trust for her future, whatever the prognosis. Enough money to either pay for an Ivy League college or keep her in a long-term care facility for the rest of her life, he’d said bluntly.

In the end, there was no choice. Her sister had suffered massive head trauma, and had broken more bones than Camilla had thought a person could possibly break and still survive. She had internal injuries that were downright terrifying.

The doctors had put Olivia into a medically induced coma to reduce swelling in her brain and spare her unthinkable pain during the early stages of recovery. They told Camilla that it was nothing short of a miracle that she was still alive. Health insurance didn’t even make a dent in the projected costs, and whatever assets Camilla’s stepfather had left when he died had been frozen.

The only thing Camilla had balked at was Danny’s plan to send her off to some spa in Las Vegas while he made the arrangements. He wasn’t taking any chances that his parents would find a way to stop him, and had no intention of informing them until his marriage to Camilla was a done deal.

Camilla told him she couldn’t possible go away for two weeks. She was only able to see Olivia through a glass partition, but she spent as much time as she could at the hospital every day anyway. It didn’t matter that her sister didn’t know she was there. Livvy looked so much smaller than her ten years, surrounded by all those tubes and machines. Infection was a horrible risk. She would be kept in sedation until at least another month after the wedding. Camilla was emotionally and physically exhausted. Danny told her if she wore herself down any more and landed in the hospital herself, the deal was off.

If Camilla had disliked the playboy he was in college, she disliked the sarcastic, self-deprecatingly bitter person he’d become since his accident even more. Camilla Billington, straight-A student and all-around campus good girl, was the last person devil-may-care Danny would have spent an evening with, much less married in his former life. The new Danny made it clear he didn’t like her any better than before. So she shouldn’t get any fancy ideas about outlasting the prenup and staying his wife any longer than absolutely necessary.
As if,
she’d retorted, and he’d actually laughed, and she’d caught just a glimpse of the old Danny when he said,
Darling, if I wanted to, I could make you fall in love with me
.

Then he’d made some snide comment about how a couple weeks at the spa would do her good since all those sleepless nights worrying about Olivia had left her looking like crap. He expected a trophy wife on the arm of his wheelchair, he said with a smirk, and when she asked him why he didn’t just hire some bimbo to marry him, he said,
Because you’re the most irritatingly honest girl I’ve ever met so I know I can trust you.
Then he’d spoiled the moment again by adding,
Besides, you have way too much at risk here to ever cross me.

And she got on a plane and headed for Vegas while Danny put together the wedding arrangements. He’d arrived by limo with a caregiver who looked more like a bodyguard, and they’d been married in a Las Vegas wedding chapel. A few phone calls, faxes, and FedEx packages later, and the lawyers and bankers had fallen neatly into line. Camilla Billington was now Camilla Winthrop, wife of the
very
wealthy Daniel Stanford Winthrop III.

Danny’s parents were outraged. Camilla was far beneath them in social standing, with a stepfather who was the disgrace of the financial community and a mother rumored to have been a former showgirl. But most importantly, they were no longer in control of their wayward son’s life.

They showed up as Danny was signing the lease to a sprawling penthouse overlooking New York City’s Central Park. The temperature dropped about ten degrees when they stepped into the foyer.

Danny’s mother spoke with a clenched jaw and never looked directly at Camilla. His father stood silent and stoic.
You’ve proved your point, Daniel,
she said.
I’ll write this… young woman…a check if I must, but you will have this marriage annulled at once, or we wash our hands of you.

Danny flipped them off, told them to have a nice life, and shut the inner door to the penthouse in their face. Moments later Camilla heard the elevator chime.

It was the first time Camilla met her in-laws. The next and only other time she would ever see them would be at Danny’s funeral.

She and Danny had been two people, strangers really, brought together by desperation, their life as husband and wife an unfortunate by-product of the most expedient solution to both their problems. From such an inauspicious beginning, something absolutely wonderful had blossomed.

But she’d been a fool to think that lightning might strike twice.

Camilla stepped out of the shower, toweled herself dry, and prepared to face the day.

Somehow she and Sam had managed to barely speak to each other for most of the week, without either Olivia or JD appearing to notice. Of course, Olivia was all caught up in her work at Sam’s office and JD’s attention was focused on the plans for redecorating his room. A mural artist was supposed to come later that afternoon and begin turning his wall into a pirate’s paradise. His new furniture—including the pirate ship bed—was on standby to be delivered, and the installers were there at the moment putting in the wide plank flooring that approximated the wooden decking on a pirate ship.

Tonight, JD was planning to camp out in the master suite with her and Sam. She wondered how Sam would deal with that, since he’d spent every night this week working late in his study and falling asleep on the couch.

The day flew by as she and JD went from store to store, searching for anything pirate-themed. It would have been easier if she’d gone with Sam’s suggestion and hired an interior designer. But she thought it was more important to let JD take an active role in decorating his room. Sam had a lot to learn about the things that mattered to a little boy. Camilla smiled just thinking about JD’s excitement when they stumbled across a framed poster from a swashbuckling movie in the vintage memorabilia store, equaled only by his joy when he found another set of action figures to add to his collection. All these little trips and discoveries would go a long way toward making JD feel at home in his new room.

Even though her marriage would end in a year or so, JD would always be Sam’s son, and he’d be coming back to this house for visits. She wanted him to feel like he belonged, and she was determined not to let the angry emotions that always seemed to erupt between her and Sam spill over and affect JD’s relationship with his father. They got back home just after six, and she was surprised to see Sam’s car already in the driveway.

Sam was out on the terrace, grilling thick pieces of salmon. Olivia was in the kitchen, getting out plates and silverware to take onto the terrace. A container of potato salad sat on the counter, and there were ears of corn cooking on a huge pot on the stove. There was a large box with the name of her favorite local pastry company on the counter as well.

“Are we celebrating?” Camilla asked as JD barreled out into the back, looking for Sam.

“Sam settled a big case today, so we came home early. You guys didn’t eat yet, did you?”

“No.” Camilla shook her head. The scent of grilled salmon came wafting in from the terrace and she realized she was starved. It would be the first time the four of them had sat down to a meal together all week, and she could only hope that JD would keep up a running patter so she wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward silences between her and her husband.

JD was standing beside Sam at the grill, and it struck her again what a perfect miniature replica he was of his father. But it was the inside that mattered, she reminded herself. JD’s sweetness and innocence made his personality worlds apart from his arrogant, cynical, and distrustful father. She’d seen his gentler side with JD and Olivia. But qualities like compassion and forgiveness clearly weren’t anything he was willing to share with her.

Still, it didn’t turn out to be the awkward evening Camilla had anticipated, and by the time they were finishing up the salmon and starting to think about dessert, she found herself relaxing. Sam’s good mood after settling his case that afternoon seemed to extend even to Camilla. She passed the box of cookies and pastries to him and for once when he smiled at her the warmth in his expression actually seemed to reach his eyes. When JD pointed to a blob of whipped cream on Camilla’s chin and giggled, Sam actually laughed and reached over with a napkin to gently brush it away. For just that moment the connection between them was palpable, and she held her breath. Then Sam leaned back into his chair, pulled JD up onto his lap to tickle him, and Camilla wondered if she had imagined the lessening of the tension between them.

Setting those thoughts aside, she let herself be caught up in the celebration again. Olivia’s excitement over the day’s events was contagious.

“Sam was on the phone with the other lawyer and they kept making offers and he kept saying no, he wouldn’t settle for a penny less than policy limits, and they caved. They paid every penny.” She looked at Sam with something akin to hero worship, and Camilla thought, oh great. It was bad enough that JD would suffer when she and Sam got divorced. Now it looked like Olivia would be hurt as well. She’d already been making noises about maybe not returning to her school in the fall—she’d been looking at websites for some high schools in the Miami area that offered a music concentration. It wasn’t that Camilla wouldn’t be thrilled to have Olivia with her all year round, but enrolling her in a new school and then having to tear her away from her friends a year later when she and Sam split just didn’t make any sense. And there was simply no way Camilla was going to remain in Miami as Sam’s ex-wife. She was desperate to finally have a fresh start, somewhere where she could build a life for Olivia, JD, and herself, one that would last. Where they would never again be the objects of stares and whispered comments about her stepfather’s financial improprieties and possible suicide, her mother’s emotional instability, gossip about her
own
marriages.