The Rented Bride (Highland Billionaires Book 1) (9 page)

She sprinted after it and burst into the room. To her left, the door of a walk-in closet stood ajar. To the right—she froze. Trent Weston stood at the bedside of an elderly man.

Trent told Celina to return to the party and to take Annie with her. They needed to eat, have a drink and enjoy a moment away from this room. Now he waited alone with his grandfather. James lay beneath the covers. Trent’s chest tightened. He looked ten years older than he had an hour ago.

Trent pulled the chair from the small desk and sat next to the bed.

“I enjoyed myself,” his grandfather said. “It’s was a fun birthday party…even if I was hoping for something more.”

Trent wanted to laugh, but the feeling was bittersweet. “You promised me you would be good.”

“And you promised to introduce me to your future wife.” He spoke in a tired whisper that frightened Trent

Trent nodded. “I know. I need to talk to you about her. But you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“It isna’ excitement I want, but to see you settled. I wouldn’t mind the sound of children in this big house again. Can’t blame a man for wanting a great-grandchild.”

Fear rammed through Trent. How was he going to tell his grandfather the truth? Would it kill him? He had to stall, at least until after they’d seen the doctor. That meant he had to lie. His grandfather hadn’t built an empire without being able to spot a con job.

“Granddad—”

The door burst open and Trent twisted in his seat to find Ms. Adams standing just inside the doorway. She stood, back to them, staring into the walk-in closet. She started for the closet.

“Is that her?” his grandfather said.

Trent yanked his gaze onto his grandfather. The bare whisper was that of a man with barely the strength to speak.

His grandfather lifted a hand and motioned her over. “Come here, lass.”

Trent swung his attention onto her. She stared, eyes wide, but didn’t move.

His grandfather gave a raspy laugh. “Tell her to come here, Trent. I want to meet her.”

“I-I’m sorry for intruding,” she said.

“Family never intrudes,” his grandfather said.

She pointed a thumb toward the closet behind her. “I’ll just grab what I need from the closet. I’ll be out of here in just a moment.” She started to turn.

“No need to worry, darling.” Trent pushed to his feet and hurried around the chair. He grasped her arm. “Granddad is anxious to meet you.”

“I beg your—”

Trent turned his back to his grandfather. “Play along, Ms. Adams, and I’ll forgive our earlier meeting.” Her brows dove downward, but Trent didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled her toward the bed. “Granddad is a bit tired, but I did promise to introduce you.” They reached the bed. “Granddad, this is Cassandra Adams.”

His grandfather extended a hand. Ms. Adams glanced toward the door, and Trent thought she might bolt. To his relief, she accepted his grandfather’s hand. He tugged until she sat on the mattress beside him.

“You are very pretty,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Weston.”

“Call me Granddad, like Trent.”

She glanced up at Trent, a question in her eyes.

“He’s right,” Trent said. “He’ll soon be just as much your grandfather as mine.”

Shock registered on her face, and he feared she would blow the lie.

“We talked about this earlier, in the hallway,” he said. “Remember?”

Confusion played across her face, then understanding melted into a narrow-eyed look. “I sure do remember,” she said. “But let’s not disagree like that again. You won’t win any better now than you did then.”

His grandfather laughed a rusty laugh. “She beat you at an argument, lad? That’s no easy feat.” He coughed harder.

“Granddad—” Trent began.

Ms. Adams leaned forward and picked up the glass of water from the nightstand. “Here.”

She placed the glass in his hand, but kept her fingers wrapped around his as she helped him lift the glass to his lips. He took a sip, coughed again, then took another sip. He coughed again, but not so violently. He took another sip of water, then nodded he’d finished. She set the glass on the nightstand.

He relaxed back against the pillow. “Thank you, Cassandra.”

She grimaced. “The only person who calls me Cassandra is my mother. Call me Cassie.”

“Thank you, Cassie.”

“I’d say you need some rest,” she said. “You’re looking tired.”

He nodded, his eyes beginning to close. “I am very happy to finally meet you.” He looked at Trent. “You enjoy the party, Grandson,” he said, and closed his eyes so suddenly that Trent had to grasp his wrist and check for a pulse. Strong and even.

Trent pulled back the blanket, gently laid his arm on the mattress, then pulled the covers up over him. “Ms. Adams,” he whispered, and motioned her to leave with him.

She hurried past him, and Trent cast a final glance at his grandfather before following. They reached the door and she stopped.

“Mr. Weston—”

“In the hallway,” he said.

She shook her head, and whispered, “You don’t understand, the closet.”

“Please, Ms. Adams.”

“The iguana,” she said. “We have to get it out of the closet.”

Had he heard right? “Did you say iguana?”

She nodded.

“How the hell—” He broke off and cast a glance at his grandfather. He was sound asleep. Trent leaned close and said, “You’re telling me there is an iguana in my closet.”

“I think so.”

“What the hell are you doing bringing an iguana in here?”

Her expression darkened. “Well I didn’t invite him, if that’s what you’re accusing.”

Trent stared for two heartbeats, at a loss for words then said, “What makes you think it’s in my grandfather’s closet?”

“I chased it in here.”

A hundred questions ricocheted around his brain, but he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

“Wait a minute,” she began.

“Do you want to catch it?” he demanded.

Her eyes flashed. “I can catch it.”

“Stay put.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue, but stepped into the walk-in closet and pulled the door closed behind him.

Trent flipped on the overhead light. He glimpsed a flash of green in the instant before the lizard disappeared behind the hanging clothes on the left. How the hell was he going to catch it without getting clawed, or worse, bitten? He glanced at the door and considered going for help, but ditched the idea. Ms. Adams wouldn’t let him forget that he didn’t want her help, then wimped out. He needed to keep the upper hand after introducing her as his fiancée.

He looked around the closet for something to use on the iguana, but didn’t find a thing. Hell, what had he expected? How did a person catch an iguana? An idea struck. Trent pulled his phone from his breast pocket. He tapped the screen for google and typed in
how to catch an iguana
. Youtube pulled up three videos. He hit the first link and fumbled to turn down the sound as a man’s voice blared.

“Are you all right, Mr. Weston?” Ms. Adams demanded in a loud whisper.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just hang tight.”

Trent watched the video as a guy wearing latex kitchen gloves crept up on an iguana. The iguana remained still as the guy slowly reached down, then suddenly grabbed the lizard behind its jaw and behind its hind legs. The creature spread its mouth as if hissing, but didn’t struggle.

Trent closed the app and slipped the phone into his pocket. Carefully, he slid the clothes aside until he could see the iguana. The animal didn’t move, and Trent edged closer until he was able to bend down close enough to reach it. He seized the animal as the guy had in the video, then didn’t move. The iguana hissed, but didn’t struggle. Trent rose and went to the door.

“Open the door, Ms. Adams.”

The door opened and she took two steps backwards as Trent hurried from the room, holding the iguana. She followed.

“Close my grandfather’s door, please, then come with me,” he said.

She did as he asked, and he led her down the hallway to the rear stairs. They passed the library and she said, “Hold up a second,” then hurried into the room. She emerged a minute later, and lifted a cell phone for him to see. “I dropped it when the iguana ran out from behind the curtain.”

More questions leapt to mind, but Trent said nothing until they reached the rear delivery entrance. They stopped at a storage room.

“If you will.” Trent nodded at the door.

She opened the door. He took a few steps inside, set the iguana down then quickly backed out and closed the door. Then he faced Cassandra Adams. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

She met his gaze squarely. “You first. I think whatever happened up there in your grandfather’s room trumps an iguana invasion.”

He thought hard, trying to come up with some way to put her off, but there really was none. One way or another, he had to tell her something.

“My grandfather mistook you for my fiancée.”

“And you didn’t correct him,” she said.

“I…I didn’t want to upset him. He had an episode during the party—”

“An episode?” she cut in. “Is he all right? Of course he is,” she said. “We were just talking with him. I’m so sorry.”

Trent regarded her. “Thank you. I appreciate you going along with the ruse. Annie gave him a heavy sedative. I doubt he’ll remember anything tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I hope he’s on the mend.”

Trent smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his heart. “So do I. Now, can you enlighten me about the iguana?”

“Sure.”

Trent listened as she explained about a string of incidents she was certain were due to Gallagher trying to sabotage the party. The iguana was the final damning evidence. Still…

“That explains why you became so aggressive when you found me in the hallway. You thought I was up to no good.”

She nodded. “I have never encountered problems like I have here.”

“So I gather,” he said. “But I’ve used Gallagher Events for nearly ten years. The unfortunate situation with Teri was disappointing. I know she regrets her conduct, but sabotage?” He shook his head. “Just doesn’t seem plausible. She values her reputation.”

Cassie snorted. “Her reputation. If the rumors I heard are true, it was her reputation she put on the line.”

He shrugged. “There has to be another explanation.”

“No, Teri wants revenge, and is damaging my reputation in the process,” she said. “I mean, come on. I’m even wondering if she had anything to do with the mix up with the lobster tails.”

“I’ll admit, it’s strange,” he said. “But I’m not going to convict anyone yet.” He softened his gaze. “Including you.”

“It’s your party, Mr. Weston.”

“Yes, and it’s past time I rejoined the festivities.” He glanced toward the ballroom. “I need to find Annie, my grandfather’s nurse. I don’t want him left alone for long.”

“I’ll find her. Go to your guests while I wrap up this party, hopefully without further incidents.”

“Thank you for handing everything so well. I appreciate it.”

The first blush of embarrassment showed in her expression. “Even when I laid you out on the hallway carpet?”

“My fault. I should’ve corrected your mistake the first time. I admit, it was a bit of fun not being recognized in my own home. I’m not usually on the receiving end of orders,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to my guests.”

She nodded. “Of course. I will make arrangements for someone to take care of our friend in there.”

“Thank you,” he said, and headed toward the ballroom.

The hour grew late. The iguana was safely stored in a duffel bag, which Henry had taken to one of the garages until animal control could pick it up in the morning. Annie, Mr. Weston’s nurse, was upstairs with her charge, and Trent Weston had moved through the guests as if he were performing a dance. Cassie took clean wine glasses from a tray she’d brought to the bar and stacked them on the rear counter. She couldn’t resist a glance in Trent’s direction. He sat, his back to her, in conversation with a small group of people seated on a leather couch to the right of the bar. Laughter spilled from his lips in an intoxicating timber. He sipped a glass of scotch. Cassie swallowed hard as the crystal glass brushed his slightly parted lips.

Earlier he’d been clean shaven, but now a hint of shadow darkened his angular jaw as it had when she’d mistaken him for the deliveryman. The man had a dangerous edge that startled her. She pictured wealthy billionaires as older men who sat at desks all day ruling their empire from a high-powered computer. Even Trent’s grandfather didn’t fit the image she’d had. If Trent hadn’t told her how ill James was, Cassie would have thought him fitter than most men his age.

As for Trent, the only thing about him that fit her mental picture was the close cut of his hair at the sides. The dark locks were a bit longer on top, however. She’d touched just enough of his body when they’d nearly taken a tumble together to know that beneath the fitted slacks, starched white shirt and tailored jacket, he was solid muscle. Not at all what she expected of a man who spent his time in the office. But he definitely moved like a man who had mastered his body in the bedroom. Her cheeks warmed. Those were the kinds of thoughts that would get her booted faster than Teri Gallagher had been. She started when Trent rose. His gaze shifted and she focused so hard on the glasses she stacked that her neck tensed.