The Rented Bride (Highland Billionaires Book 1) (7 page)

She opened her mouth to reply, then her eyes suddenly shimmered with moisture. “You’re going to fault me for wanting to be successful in my chosen field?” She shrugged. “You’re a wealthy man. But that doesn’t mean I expected a free ride for the rest of my life.”

“Free ride?” His cell phone rang, but he ignored it and said, “Is that what you call having a baby and staying home for two years?”

“I can do that
and
run
Blood Silk
.”

He nodded. “But you can’t be a mother—a good mother—and make three movies, the first of which starts immediately, according to the
Wall Street Journal
. You didn’t have to make promises, Lindsey. My marriage proposal wasn’t conditional upon you getting pregnant right away. If you recall, that was your idea.”

His cell phone rang again. He reached into his pocket, then paused when Lindsey said, “All you did was talk about your grandfather and how much family meant to him—especially a great grandchild.”

The cell rang a third time. “You’re right,” Trent said, as he pulled the phone from his pocket. “Granddad is the only real family I have, and I’m about to lose him.” His chest tightened at the admission. “I did consider him when thinking about our future. But I never deceived you.”

She stepped toward him. “I didn’t deceive you either, don’t you see? The negotiations with
Blood Silk
was business. You don’t tell me all your business deals.”

“Business deals that don’t conflict with our relationship.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “Trent, baby—”

He backed away. “It’s over, Lindsey.”

“You don’t mean that. You’re hurt. You’ll get over this when you see how well we work together. You can help me build
Blood Silk
. One day, we’ll take over
Horizon
. We’ll produce the biggest blockbusters to hit the big screen. Imagine what we can do together. Your resources and my connections.”

Fury hit like a tsunami. “We’re done.”

His cell phone cut in with a bugle tone playing taps. Trent jarred. The second line was strictly for emergencies. He tapped the screen, then pressed the phone to his ear.

“This is Trent. What’s wrong?”

“Forgive the intrusion,” Doris O’Brien said. “We didn’t want to alarm you, sir, but we couldn’t locate you in the ballroom and we couldn’t reach you on the regular line. Your grandfather is asking for you, and I wanted to let you know that he’s looking a bit overtired.”

Fear rammed through Trent. “I’m on my way.” He ended the call then pushed past Lindsey.

“Is he okay?” Lindsey took two steps to follow him.

“That is no longer any of your concern.”

Cassie sat across from Blakely at her desk off the kitchen. She glanced to the clock. Eight-forty. Hopefully the lobster tails and sea bass were being served. Chef Ace Raines was more than competent, but she preferred to oversee every task during an event. Not this time. Nothing about this job had gone as planned. And the sooner she could leave, the better she’d feel. Nightmare over.

“Look. It’s best if I just go,” she told Blakely. “Mr. Weston fired me. I accept that. Let’s just end this before there’s any more drama.” Emotion welled within her. She hadn’t cried since her aunt’s death five years ago, and she’d never cried on the job. At twenty-seven, she was well-educated, financially comfortable, despite a hefty student loan and the hundred and fifty thousand dollars she owned Maryanne as a buy-in for Daley Enterprises. But she wasn’t sure she could halt the flood of tears that pressed against her eyelids like a dam about to break.

How had she mistaken one of the richest men in the world for a deliveryman—and a waiter? She choked back anger. She was sure he’d had a good laugh at her expense. Then he’d fired her. She couldn’t get the picture out of her head of him lying on the carpet. His eyes had remained closed for several seconds, then he’d opened them and stared up at her. He hadn’t expected her to kick his ass when she threw him over her shoulder in a sukui nage Judo move.

What if he decided to bring suit against her? Damn, if he’d just been reasonable and let her explain, she would have been able to finish the job. They could pretend as if nothing had happened. Hell, she was even willing to beg, so long as Mr. Weston didn’t hold her mistakes against Daley Enterprises.

But no, he’d fired her and sent her with a security escort. Now she waited…for what?

The door burst open. “Cassie?” Meg glanced around the room. “Thank God I found you.” She closed the door and hurried across the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“You are not going to believe this.” She grabbed Cassie’s arm. “Come with me.”

“Wait a minute,” Blakely said. “Mr. Weston instructed me to remain with her.”

“Sorry. I’ll take responsibility. Come on,” she said to Cassie. “Hurry.”

Cassie followed Meg from the room. They rushed into the corridor. The two-way radio strapped to Meg’s belt crackled, and a voice said, “Another limo just drove through the gate.”

Meg twisted the knob on the radio and squelched the sound, then said, “Cassie, we’re in real trouble. One of the maids claims she saw an iguana on the second floor.”

Cassie blinked. “What?”

Meg nodded. “You heard right. An iguana.”

Cassie couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Does Mr. Weston own an iguana?”

Meg shook her head so vigorously that she looked like a cartoon character. “No.”

“Then what is an iguana doing here?”

“What do you think?” Meg said.

Cassie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I am not a conspiracy theorist, but it has to be Gallagher.”

She halted. “Gallagher set an iguana loose in Brettonwood?”

“Who else would do it?”

Cassie started laughing.

Meg stared. “Are you crazy? This is bad.”

Cassie nodded. It was bad. Even worse—maybe—than her laying Trent Weston out flat on the floor.

Cassie couldn’t stop laughing.

Meg frowned. “Don’t you care that this might ruin your party?”

“I-I care a lot,” she managed to get out. “But you—” she shook her head in an attempt to control her laughter “—you must admit it’s funny. An iguana. Who would have thought of that?”

Cassie laughed harder and Meg’s mouth twitched.

“It’s not funny,” Meg said, but a laugh escaped her lips.

Cassie nodded. “You’re right. This is serious.”

“We have to deal with it. Can you imagine what will happen if it gets into the ballroom? We’ll have pandemonium.”

“I agree.” Cassie cleared her throat. “But Meg, how do you plan to catch it? I’m not touching an iguana.”

“
Cassie
,” Meg recriminated, “it’s
our
job to make sure things go right.”

This would be a good moment to tell Meg that she’d already managed to get fired. The iguana wasn’t technically her problem anymore. But fired or not, she felt an obligation to do her best by Mr. Weston whether he recognized her efforts or not, and she wasn’t about to leave Meg in a lurch.

“I know,” she said. “But who could have anticipated this?” Cassie felt more laughter bubbling up and mashed her lips together.

“No more of that,” Meg said. “We really do have to find it. Think how bad it would be if someone got hurt.”

Cassie sobered. “You’re right.”

“Come on.” Meg grasped her arm and started at a fast walk down the corridor.

“Where did the maid see it?” Cassie asked.

“The library.”

“Oh boy,” Cassie said as they reached the stairs and started up. “How big is it?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing bigger than a gecko and smaller than a kimono dragon.” Meg broke, and a little chuckle bubbled out. “Before I went looking for you I used the radios to alert everyone on staff to be on the lookout. I wasn’t able to get a hold of Blakely, then I discovered why.”

“So you know what happened with Mr. Weston and I?”

“Yep, but I promise not to laugh, even though I would have loved to see you lay him out. Not because I don’t love my boss, but because that man doesn’t ever laugh. I would’ve made him see the humor in it. At least he’d know I thought it was hilarious. I can’t believe you threw him over your shoulder.”

Cassie groaned inwardly. “Don’t say anything. I’m horrified enough as it is.”

“Don’t worry. Trent’s a reasonable man. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know him. Under the circumstances, I think anyone could have made the mistake.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “He didn’t look like a billionaire. He looked like hired help.” Attractive hired help. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t known. She’d have tripped over her own tongue.

They reached the second floor and Cassie asked, “Is someone going to help us?”

“That’s a good question.”

Meg pulled the radio from her belt, switched it on, then said into the mic, “This is Meg. Where is everyone? We’re here at the second floor library. I’m not catching this thing with my bare hands. Send up some of the grounds men. And please, keep this quiet. I don’t want some tropical lizard ruining the party. Over.”

“Hang tight, Meg,” a male voice replied. Henry, Cassie realized. “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “We ran into something on our end. Help is on the way. Over.”

“What do you mean, something on your end?” Meg said into the radio.

“Nothing serious,” Henry replied. “Talk to Mr. Trent. Over.”

“Damnit,” Meg muttered, then said into the radio. “Thanks. Over.” She clasped the radio to her belt. “What else can go wrong?”

“Don’t jinx us. Come on,” Cassie said. “We can do this. Do you have a blanket or something to catch it with?”

“I can round something up.” Meg nodded at the library and took two paces to the door. “This is where it was last seen.”

“Have you searched the room?” Cassie asked.

“No. I’m not going in alone.” She shrugged. “We’ll see it if it’s in there. How many places can a big lizard like that hide?”

Cassie’s stomach took a queasy turn as she walked a few paces, and surveyed the other closed doors. “Have these doors been closed all along?” 

“As far as I know.” Meg replied. “They’re guestrooms, but Trent doesn’t have any quests staying with us right now.”

A tremor rippled through Cassie’s stomach at the mention of Trent Weston.  “It sounds like we have to search pretty much every room on this floor,” she said.

Worry creased Meg’s brow. “I suppose so.” 

Cassie grasped the library door and inched it open, then peeked inside. Nothing. She opened the door wider and entered with Meg close behind. She closed the door behind her.

“How would someone have smuggled an iguana into the castle?” Cassie asked as she scanned the desk and couch, which looked like the only places an iguana could hide.

“I guess with three hundred people it’s possible. It’s not like we frisk them.”

“Doesn’t someone meet them at the door and escort them into the ballroom?”

“Sure,” Meg said. “But some of these women wear huge fur coats.”

“This really does go too far,” Cassie said. The five minutes it had taken them to reach the library had sobered her up and she’d gotten angry.

“Where do we begin looking?” Meg asked.

“You take that side.” Cassie pointed left. “I’ll take this side.” She hurried to the desk, then paused at the edge and peered around the corner. No iguana.

She walked around the desk and tilted her head to look beneath it. Empty. Cassie took three steps around the desk, then surveyed the room. Meg knelt beside the couch, bent low, looking beneath the couch.

“Anything?” Cassie asked.

Meg pushed to her knees. “No.”

“Do you think it could get behind that sideboard?” Cassie pointed to the piece of furniture in the far left corner.

Meg rose. “No. The sideboard is flush against the wall.”

“Shoot,” Cassie muttered. “We’re going to have to do a room by room search.” She strode to the door and stepped into the hallway. “How did it get onto the second floor? Can iguanas climb stairs?”

Meg went to the doorway. “You got me.”

“If they can’t, that means someone carried it up here. Would one of the guests staying here do that?”

“I don’t know them well,” Meg said. “But Trent is very particular about whom he calls friends and, in my experience, he wouldn’t let someone he didn’t know well stay at Brettonwood. And, of course, some of the staff live on site.”

Cassie looked left, then right. The rear stairway they’d climbed was the one to the right. “The thing didn’t come down the stairs we came up. At least not while we were on them.” She looked at the other stairs. “Where do those stairs lead?”

“Third floor. The family’s private bedrooms, study, a private parlor.”

“We need someone to watch the stairs we came up,” Cassie said. “I’ll head upstairs. Can you get someone to start searching the lower level?”

“How many people do you want to pull off the party?” Meg asked. “I have Henry and Doris looking. All the temporary help is serving dinner. Celina, I doubt you’ve met her, but she’s searching the ground floor without bringing too much attention to herself.”

“Well, it’s up to us then.” Cassie hurried past her. She turned, but kept walking backwards. “Do you know what to do with an iguana if you catch it?”

“I used to stroke the belly of the little garden lizards I caught as a kid. Puts ‘em right to sleep. Think that’ll work?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Cassie would clobber it with the first thing she could get her hands on. “I draw the line at stroking a reptile.”

***

Trent reached his grandfather in the ballroom to find him sitting on a chair at the bar. A glass of what he knew was scotch sat on the counter in front of the older man. Celina stood to his right.

“What happened?” Trent demanded in a low voice when he reached them.

“Nothing, lad,” his grandfather said.

“Have you been drinking?” Trent demanded.

“A wee bit. Nothing more. It’s my birthday after all. Let me have some fun. I promise, just a little longer.”

“You know a little longer might be all it takes, Granddad. Come on, we’re going upstairs.”

“Is this your girl?” his grandfather asked.

Trent looked over shoulder to see Lindsey standing beside him. Damn her. He faced his grandfather. “She’s an acquaintance.” He glanced to Celina. “We should get him upstairs.”

“I will not go upstairs until I meet your special lass.”

Lindsey stepped closer.

“Not now,” Trent said in a consoling voice. “Please. I’m worried about you. I’ll…I’ll come upstairs in a few minutes. You’re overdoing it.” Trent looked at Celina. “Will you go with him, please?”

She nodded. “Sure, but maybe we shouldn’t. We have a little issue.”

“Whatever it is, I have bigger issues. Please, just take him upstairs.”

“Trent,” his grandfather growled, but Trent gripped Lindsey’s arm and started away so quickly she nearly ran to keep up.

“Trent,” she cried, “slow down.”

He ignored her and exited through the door into the corridor leading to the kitchen. They passed through the kitchen and entered the hallway where Ms. Adams had flipped him over her shoulder. This had been one shitty day. The party and everything it represented was a mistake.

Lindsey jerked her arm from his grasp. “Trent, stop it. You’re going to hurt me.”

“I’m not remotely close to hurting you, Lindsey.” He led her through the labyrinth of hallways to the courtyard entrance where she’d entered. “Where is your driver?” he demanded.