The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel) (32 page)

Shane Donovan would do anything for her. Anything. If it was in his power to give it to her, he would. No matter the cost. It gleamed there, bright and true. He’d move heaven and earth for her.

And for the first time she felt accepted. Cared for.

Neither of them had spoken the word, but it hung there between them. A silent promise, still too soon to say out loud.

She reached up and ran a finger over his jaw. “Who takes care of you, Shane?”

He blinked, confusion clouding his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You take care of everyone else, but who takes care of you?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, frowned.

Before he could collect his thoughts, she stood on tiptoes and brushed her mouth over his. And made a promise of her own. “I will.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cecilia practically danced on air the following morning as she slathered lavender body lotion over her legs and mooned over Shane.

Last night had been the best night of her life. He’d lavished her body with attention, making love to her over and over again, their joining all the sweeter for the time in between. Long, wet kisses. Soft exploration. And talking. Low, intimate conversations until he was wrapped tightly around her heart. Interwoven into the fabric of her skin.

Her phone beeped but she ignored it. The only people calling were the people she didn’t wish to talk to at the moment.

But she wouldn’t ignore them for long. She was telling her father she wouldn’t marry Miles.

As for her future plans? She liked the idea of starting something of her own. Something she was responsible for and that allowed her to have control over her destiny. She’d even opened her laptop and done some research. Started making a list of people to talk to.

She smoothed lotion over her legs. She’d figure out the details. What mattered now was she felt excited and alive. She intended to cling to that crystal clear vision of her future from yesterday.

Her phone beeped again.

And again.

And then again.

She frowned and walked over to the desk where her cell lay abandoned, to see fifteen missed calls from her father and five text messages. Since he wasn’t a man who resorted to texting, curiosity got the better of her and she opened her messaging app.

We need to talk. It’s urgent.

Cecilia, it’s imperative we speak.

Two more messages of equal urgency and then the last one raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

We need to talk about Shane Donovan and your future.

Her heart started to pound. She took a deep breath and blew it out. Her time was up. She’d have to tell her father the truth and call off her faux engagement.

She pressed his contact number. It rang once before he picked up.

“I see I finally have your attention.” He used the cold, stern tone that had always turned her into a mess when she was younger.

But it didn’t work. Not this time. “What do you want, Father?”

“We have a problem on our hands. I flew into Chicago yesterday to deal with it and now it’s time to clean up your mess. I need you back in the city in five hours for a meeting with Miles.”

Dread crawled up her throat. She’d lived in fear of his disapproval for so long, it was a hard habit to break. But she ripped the Band-Aid off because Shane deserved it, and she intended to keep the promises she’d made to him last night. “Dad, that’s not going to happen. I know we need to talk, but I can’t marry Miles. I’m not marrying him.”

“Based on your behavior at the benefit I assumed you’d say that, so I suggest you read my last e-mail. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

Panic beat wildly in her chest. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She clicked the e-mail icon and opened the last message from her father.

Subject: We’re prepared to release this at five o’clock today.

She opened the PDF document. Everything inside her stilled, became cold and dead, like she’d been frozen into a statue. She quickly skimmed the article, a detailed account that claimed Shane was contributing to slush funds in order to obtain city contracts.

Bile churned like battery acid in her stomach. A wave of nausea swept through her and threatened to bring her to her knees. Her voice shook when she put the phone back up to her ear. “But this isn’t true.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true,” he said, his voice ruthless. “I happen to know the new city planner isn’t too fond of Donovan and is looking for any excuse to pull the plug.”

She felt sick. She knew about the troubles Shane had been having with the planner. His worries about his staff if the contract was pulled. “You’re blackmailing me?”

A long pause. “Think of it as motivation.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shook her head. “Why do you even care if I run for congress?”

He laughed, and she hated him. “Do you really think this is about you?”

Tears pricked in her eyes and she sat on the bed. All her happiness evaporated into thin air like a desert mirage. Of course, she’d forgotten, it never had anything to do with her. “I’m your daughter. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

“I’m doing this for your own good. What? You’re going to blow your whole future for an affair with a construction worker?”

She didn’t bother arguing that Shane was so much more. “Yeah, that was the plan.”

“You’re smarter than that. I trust I’ll see you in five hours.”

More than anything in the world she wanted to throw his threats in his face, but she couldn’t. She could not let Shane suffer because of her.

She wanted to run to him and tell him everything. But she couldn’t. He could never find out. She knew him now, knew the lengths he’d go to for the people he cared about. She’d seen it in his eyes. In every move he’d made the night before.

If he found out, he’d refuse to be intimidated. He’d sacrifice that contract for her.

Last night she’d promised to take care of him, and that’s what she needed to do. Even though he’d hate her for it. She closed her eyes. “I’ll be there.”

Shane went to find Cecilia when she hadn’t shown up for breakfast. When he’d left she’d been about to take a shower, but it had been over an hour and he still hadn’t seen her.

At breakfast on the patio, the conversation had swirled around him, but he hadn’t paid any attention because all he could think about was her. After last night he could no longer ignore the truth. He loved her. And he was pretty sure she loved him too.

In the darkness, they’d told each other in a million silent ways.

It was too fast. Too quick. But it knocked him over the second she put her hand on his cheek and said she wanted to take care of him. He’d never believed he’d needed that, or even wanted it. Taking care of his family, that was his job and he’d done it willingly. But Cecilia was a woman who could shoulder the weight with him.

It wouldn’t crush her.

She was too strong for that. Too stubborn. Just like him.

He knocked on the door then pushed it open. The room was empty, the bed neatly made, lace curtains blowing in the springtime breeze.

But she wasn’t there.

He frowned, a trickle of unease sliding irrationally down his spine. A paper rustled on the desk, under the old-fashioned telephone. He walked over and picked it up.

Shane, I had to run into the city for an emergency meeting, but I’ll be back tonight. C.

The note didn’t make him feel better.

Why wouldn’t she have talked to him? Called him? Hell, texted him?

She left a note?

What the fuck did that mean?

He ran down the stairs and flew out onto the front porch, but her car was already gone.

She’d slunk off to Chicago? Without one word?

From his pocket, he fished out his cell. There were no messages. He dialed Cecilia’s number and it went straight to voice mail.

Something had happened; he was sure of it.

With the note clutched in his fist, he walked back inside, down the hallway, through the kitchen door and straight out to the back, zeroing in on Charlotte Riley. “She’s gone.”

Charlotte’s fork paused midway to her mouth before she lowered it slowly back to her plate with hardly a clang. “Pardon?”

Anger and panic churned inside him, seeping out of his pores as aggression. “Cecilia. Your daughter. She’s gone.”

The older woman’s golden eyes darkened. “She left?”

Shane threw the crumpled note on the table. “She said she had an emergency meeting and would be back tonight.”

Her expression cleared and the rest of the table seemed to let out a collective sigh.

Charlotte picked up her fork again. “Oh well, she’ll be back.”

Shane shook his head. “Something is wrong.”

Maddie’s mouth turned down. “Shane, she had a meeting.”

“Bullshit.” It was all bullshit. They didn’t know her like he did. Every instinct he had was on rapid-fire alert and he was never wrong.

Mitch put his hand on the back of Maddie’s chair. “I’m sure everything is fine. My father probably had a problem she needed to fix.”

Shane’s hands clenched into fists. “She’s not even speaking to your father.”

“But she still has a job to do,” Mitch said rationally, making Shane want to punch him.

“She would have said something to me; she wouldn’t just leave.”

Mitch glanced pointedly at the paper on the table. “She left a note.”

“You don’t know shit.”

James cleared his throat. “She’ll be back tonight and you can talk to her then.”

Charlotte’s expression turned distressed, and she fiddled with her napkin in her lap. “I have to agree with Mitchell. Cecilia’s always been single-minded when it comes to work.”

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get them to see reason. “She currently has about twenty voice mails and a hundred e-mails she hasn’t looked at in days. Her laptop is still sitting in her bedroom in the case. She couldn’t give a fuck about work.”

“Shane!” Maddie jerked her head toward Charlotte and scowled.

“It’s okay, dear.” The older woman patted his sister’s hand.

James pursed his lips. “What do you want us to do?”

Shane looked at them, sitting there relaxed at the table. They all thought he was being irrational. Acting crazy. Even though he knew he was right.

But what could he do? Chicago was a big city, she wasn’t answering her phone, and she’d be back tonight. He shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it.” He swiveled on his heel and walked back into the kitchen to collect himself.

A minute later the back door opened and he turned around to find Cecilia’s mother standing there, her hands wringing. Her gaze shifted uneasily around the room, then it settled back on him. “I—” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize you were so involved with Cecilia.”

His jaw hardened and he nodded sharply. Damned if he was going to deny it. She was his.

Charlotte looked past him. “I knew there was some tension between you, but I didn’t know it moved past attraction.”

What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t about to admit they were sleeping together. Although clearly she was the last to know, since they hadn’t exactly been discreet. He shrugged and said noncommittally, “I care about Cecilia.”

“That’s clear,” she said, a small smile lifting her lips. “But that’s what worries me.”

“Don’t be.” Shane didn’t quite get where Charlotte was going, but he was 100 percent certain he didn’t want to know. “Everything’s fine.”

“Do you know? About her plans?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other, neither inclined to provide the details of said plans. Finally, Charlotte nodded. “When Cecilia was four years old, she put on a musical talent show for me and her father.”

The subject change was abrupt and Shane frowned. That sense of foreboding knotted in his gut, but he said nothing.

The older woman took a deep breath then slowly exhaled. “She banged away on our grand piano and her father laughed and made an offhanded comment that we didn’t have to worry about her being a great concert pianist.”

If Shane needed any further incentive to dislike Nathaniel Riley, his wife had just handed it to him. “He sounds like a real stand-up dad.”

Charlotte’s expression darkened. “I know how it looks, and you can judge another time, but that’s not the point.”

Shane was instantly contrite. “I apologize. My mom raised me better than that, I’m just . . .” He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Concerned,” she said.

He nodded. An understatement, but it would do.

Charlotte continued, “The next day she came to me and said she wanted piano lessons. She pestered me for a week until I relented. She took lessons until she was eighteen, practicing sometimes hours a day until she was given all the best solos.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Shane said. “She’s very tenacious.”

Charlotte twisted a strand of pearls around her slim neck. “But here’s what most people don’t know.”

He raised a brow.

“Cecilia hates piano. Hates it.”

The point now crystal clear, his stomach dropped.

Charlotte frowned, twisting the necklace tighter. “All those years, all that practice on something she didn’t even like, just so she could prove she could do it. So she could hear him say he was proud of her. That’s the only reason.”

His throat felt like dirt. “And you think this is one of those times?”

She nodded. “I do.”

The doubt crept in, and he hated Charlotte for it. He shrugged, as though unconcerned. “I’ll consider myself warned.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cecilia walked into her father’s reception area, her head held high, her heart breaking. She smoothed down her hair, stretched too tight in a severe ponytail that matched the severe cut of her black business suit. She’d had fifteen minutes to go home and change. By the time she’d left her place, summer Cecilia was nowhere in sight.

She’d had to leave her behind to deal with what was to come.