Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (14 page)

He
kept his tone so studiously flat that she had to wonder what he was leaving
out. And of course, Kara had to pursue the subject. “What was her name?”

“Chloe
Ashford.”

Kara
groaned and covered her eyes. “Even her name sounds gorgeous.”

Wyatt
turned from his study of the ceiling and smiled ruefully. “Ugly wasn’t the
problem.”

She
frowned. “What was?”

He
shrugged her off again. “We developed other interests.”

As
his fingers brushed from the tender spot below her ear down to the swell of her
breast, she attempted one more question. “Is she the reason you’re so cynical?”

“Am
I cynical? I would have described it more as being—” he searched for the
appropriate word while his fingers teased her nipple “—wary. It’s been the
despair of my mother for years, so she likes to check out any woman I spend
time with for warts. Don’t take the interrogation too personally.”

“Seeing
as I’m relatively wart-free,” Kara said, giving into the distraction his
fingers provided, “I’m not worried.”

Brave
words, he thought later as they pulled into the circular driveway of the family
home. Wyatt watched Kara out of the corner of his eye. Her mood since leaving
the hotel had been too subdued, even for Kara.

The
stirrings of an emotion very similar to love fluttered, but that didn’t worry
him. He’d flirted with love before and knew the feeling wouldn't last. Just
because he enjoyed her company, lusted after her body, missed her like the
devil when she wasn’t around, and didn’t want to see her ripped apart at the
hands of his mother… Well, those weren’t necessarily enduring emotions.

He
stopped the car in front of the house and looked at her to gage her reaction.
To him, the calumniated showplace with covered porches, sloping rooflines, and
widespread wings was nothing more than the prison he’d grown up in. But guests
usually responded to their first glimpse with either admiration or envy. Kara
seemed more dismayed than anything else.

He
picked up her slender hand. It took grazing his lips over her knuckles to get
her attention. “It’s just a house.”

“Like
Winchester Cathedral is just a church.” Her voice rose several octaves higher
than normal.

He
drew her into his arms for a bracing hug. “Just remember, my mother likes to
think she’s the queen of ‘Lanta, but she's not. Only mortals live in this
house.”

“Can
I imagine them naked?” Kara’s arms clung to him.

“My
mother and my uncle, yes.” He chuckled and kissed her temple. “But my cousin
Chase, no. He’ll be looking for an opportunity to move in on you anyway. Watch
out for him.” Opening the car door, he pulled her out with him. “Let’s get this
over with.”

Kara
smoothed the front of her dress. “If you don’t want to be here, and I don’t
want to be here, then why are we here?”

“If
I refused, she’d find some other way to meet you.” She’d probably been having
them discreetly followed all week. “This way, at least, we know what we’re
walking into.” He led the way up the steps to the massive front doors. With his
hand on the doorknob, he paused and looked her in the eye. “We can leave if you
want to. It’s your call.”

She
donned a brave smile. “I don’t mind going in, really.”

“Look
on the bright side. She hardly ever takes prisoners, and you’ll have the best
meal of your life. If Izzy’s made her lemon meringue pie, you’ll think you’ve
died and gone to Heaven.”

“As
in, the condemned woman ate a hearty last meal?” Kara joked as Wyatt squeezed
her hand.

“Mr.
Wyatt, right on time.” Jonah welcomed them with a wide smile. “And Ms.
Enderley, how nice to see you again. My Izzy's been looking forward to meeting
you if you have time to stop in and see her later.”

“Yes,
I’d love to.”

“Let’s
go see her now.” Wyatt decided to buy Kara a few more minutes to prepare
herself for meeting the dragon lady.

“No.”
Jonah guided Wyatt into the behavior expected of him. “Your mamma’s waiting on
you, and Izzy’s bound to be in a tizzy putting the finishing touches on the
dinner.”

Wyatt
shrugged and steered Kara across the foyer to the formal sitting room where his
mother preferred to receive guests. He winced as he took in the group his
mother had assembled for the inspection of Kara. And the gang's all here.

The
exterior of the house had been intimidating enough. If the football
stadium-sized room in front of Kara rivaled the Louvre in terms of original
art, then she must be part of the main exhibit. None of the assembled guests
bothered to disguise their curiosity about her. But she could handle all of
them. However, Rosalie Wyatt Maitland’s icy demeanor inspired Kara to cower
behind the grand piano.

Normally,
Kara would rush to examine the paintings and other masterpieces that adorned
the room, but the woman holding court commanded everyone’s attention. With one
glance at her regal bearing, Kara would have known of the Wyatt family’s
celebrated ancestry even if Wyatt hadn’t filled her in on it that afternoon.
The Maitland matriarch sat upon her rosewood brocade chair like a throne, her
faithful minions gathered about. With Kara and Wyatt’s entrance into the room,
Rosalie extended her right hand.

“Come
in, dear.” She smiled with the satisfaction of a tiger. “We’re anxious to meet
your guest.”

Wyatt
led Kara forward and formally presented her. His mother placed her smooth,
aristocratic fingers into Kara’s for a condescending shake of fingertips. Kara
controlled her urge to curtsy.

Cool
green eyes looked Kara over with the distaste of a gourmand who has just been
served inferior meat. As Kara was judged, she rediscovered her backbone and
returned the calculating appraisal. Rosalie was an indisputable beauty with the
means and desire to take the very best care of herself. The coloring to her
highlighted hair had been skillfully applied. Her mint-green dinner suit
complimented her peaches-and-cream complexion as well as her eyes. The pearl
buttons along the front looked like the real thing.

“How
do you do?” The voice emerged as sweet, slow, and chilly as refrigerated syrup.
“I hope you’re enjoying your stay in Atlanta, Ms. Enderley.”

In
the car on the way over, Kara had decided to hide behind the ‘less is better’
approach to conversation. She instituted it now. “Yes, ma’am, very much.”

“I
wish Wyatt—” Before her wish was completed, voices interrupted from the foyer.

“Why
did I have to come tonight anyway?” said a young male in a sullen tone.

“Grandmother
asked you to,” a woman calmly replied.

“I’d
rather eat in the kitchen with Izzy and Jonah,” the younger voice complained.

Kara
watched Mrs. Maitland’s smooth expression tighten. Otherwise, the woman
displayed no reaction to the exchange. All eyes turned toward the door as the
pair entered the room. The boy dragged his feet. His mother blushed, but put a
protective hand on his shoulder as they approached Rosalie.

“Good
evening, Mother.”

“Hello,
dear,” Rosalie returned in the same possessive tone she’d used on Wyatt. “And
Alexander, how nice of you to join us. I was afraid you’d have other plans for
the evening.”

“No,
ma’am.” He adjusted his collar as if it were a size too small. He looked up
from his study of the Aubusson carpet and met his grandmother's eyes. “But the
Braves are on TV and I wanted to watch the game.”

“Ah.”
She nodded. “We’ll see what we can do. Mind your manners. It’s possible you may
be excused from dinner.”

His
frown disappeared as his grandmother dangled the partial pardon. Jonah came and
spoke quietly in Rosalie’s ear. The youngster turned to his grandmother’s
right.

“Hi,
Uncle Wyatt.”

Other
muted conversations resumed as Wyatt responded to his nephew. “Hey, Xander.
How’s it going?”

“Fine,
thank you, sir.”

Wyatt
gave his sister a hug. “I’d like to introduce you both to Kara Enderley. Kara,
this is my sister, Allison Spencer, and her son, Maitland Alexander Spencer.”
He poked Kara in the side. “Allie probably has some ID with her if you want to
see it.”

Darting
him a speaking glance, she shook hands with them both. “I’ve heard a lot about
you, Allison.”

“Call
me, Allie, please. And don’t mind Wyatt, he’s a terrible tease.” The woman’s
brown and gold eyes twinkled like her brother’s, and Kara felt an immediate
friendliness toward her. “Wyatt, why don’t you get us a drink?”

“I
haven’t finished introducing Kara around yet.”

His
sister shooed him away. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Come
help me carry the drinks, Xander.” Wyatt and his nephew headed toward the bar.

As
promised, Allison took Kara around the room, presenting her to Rosalie’s
brother Jackson Wyatt, his wife Martha, and their son Chase, Wyatt’s smoothly
good-looking cousin.

Wyatt
and Xander returned with drinks while a young uniformed maid circulated with a
tray of canapés. Just as she finished serving, a strikingly chic couple entered
the room with an energetic burst of apologies to Rosalie for being late. Beside
Kara, Allie choked slightly on a crab puff.

Wyatt’s
reaction to the slinky blonde and her tall, dark partner wasn’t quite so
pronounced. But Kara noticed he focused more attention than necessary on his
next sip of bourbon.

“Did
you know about this?” Allie said to him in an undertone.

“No.”
He looked at her carefully. “Are you feeling all right? It would be more than
acceptable for you to come down with something contagious right about now if
you want to.”

“I
can do this if you can.”

“Why
should it be a problem for me? I’ve been immune to this particular virus for a
long time.”

“Oh,
right.” Her tone remained light but crossed her eyes at him. “I forgot. You’re
invincible.”

Rosalie
didn’t quite raise her voice as she called for Wyatt and Allie to come and
greet the newly arrived guests. Her request floated to their corner with the
kind of resonance developed by a seasoned stage actress. Wyatt gripped Kara’s
elbow, moving her with him and Allie to Rosalie’s side.

“Thank
you for inviting me this evening, Mrs. Maitland,” the ethereal female with the
fashion-model looks drawled. “Wasn’t it fortunate I ran into y’all this
morning? Mother and Father send their regrets.”

“I’m
so sorry they couldn’t join us.” Rosalie allowed the vision in pink to kiss the
air beside her cheek. “That’s the problem with these little impromptu
gatherings. So many of our friends already have other commitments.”

“You
said to bring a guest, and I know how close Wyatt and Buck used to be. When he
happened to call me this afternoon...” The blonde let her comment trail off and
gave a helpless shrug. From the taut reaction of the others, Kara didn’t think
the gesture was as artless as it seemed.

The
older woman turned chilly eyes toward the male newcomer. “Buck Cooper.” She pursed
her lips like she’d just bit into a persimmon. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too
long, Mrs. Maitland.” He arched his brows in a challenge as he bowed over her
hand. Straightening, he greeted Wyatt and Allie with warmth and affection, but
Kara could have plucked the tension that existed among the three of them like a
banjo.

“And
who is this beautiful stranger?” Buck asked Wyatt.

Wyatt
drew her to his side with a possessive arm around her waist. “Kara, this is
Buck Cooper, one of my oldest and most disreputable friends.”

Buck
clasped her hand a second too long, but Kara didn’t mind. The man had the
brooding sort of good looks that spelled trouble for the unwary, but she didn’t
sense a lick of true danger in him. Rather than menacing, Kara thought he
looked more ill at ease in this uber-rich setting than she did.

“Aren’t
you going to introduce me, too, Wyatt?” The blonde pressed the side of her
breast against his bicep while linking her skinny arm through his. Kara felt an
intense desire to spill red wine down the front of the vixen’s sinfully sheer
blush-pink sheath.

“Yes,
dear. Don't be embarrassed,” Wyatt's mother instructed. “The fact that Chloe's
your former fiancée shouldn’t matter to your new friend. It was all so long ago
after all.”

Damn
his mother.

At
the dinner table, Wyatt sliced into Izzy’s delicious roast duck with
unnecessary force. Mother had planned for this evening to be awkward, and he
resented her scheming. He looked down the long table, over the glittering ocean
of Waterford and Limoges toward Allie to exchange a moment of silent
communication with her. He knew she must resent it, too, but she made a
practice of pretending she didn’t mind their mother’s constant string-pulling.

To
be fair, his mother had gotten her just desserts with Buck Cooper’s arrival,
thanks to Chloe. The conniving little witch. If it weren’t for Kara and Allie,
Wyatt would have found his mother’s manipulations amusing. But he hated for
other people to get hurt when she was trying to get to him.

Luckily,
the scheme to throw the cat among the pigeons hadn’t seemed to faze Kara. She’d
taken the meeting with Chloe in stride and was more than holding her own as
everyone present tried to worm personal information out of her.

Chloe’s
phony lilting laughter trilled through the air and drew every eye. Although
Buck was her escort, the bulk of her attention bounced back and forth between
Wyatt and Chase, leaving Buck free to concentrate on Allie. If Chloe
represented the closest Wyatt had ever come to fulfilling his mother's
expectations, then Allie’s college fling with Buck was the closest she had ever
been to defying them.

Wyatt
tuned back into the conversation. “You want me to go to the Charlotte store
with you on Monday, Mother? I should be free to do that.”

“There’s
a situation I hoped you’d take care of for me on Monday, too, Wyatt,” Uncle
Jackson said from across the table.

“If
I can.” He swallowed a sigh. The month he spent in Atlanta every fall was only
a vacation in the sense that it occurred during his teaching break. In reality,
for the four weeks in September and a long weekend every month, he was at the
beck and call of Wyatt Enterprises.

“Perhaps
that problem would best be discussed later,” Rosalie suggested.

One
long-standing family rule prohibited them from discussing business in front of
outsiders. Although he didn’t think the precaution necessary in Kara’s case,
Buck always seemed to be on the lookout for privileged information

“Mother,
did you hear about the exhibit of Faberge eggs that will be in Atlanta next
month?”

“Yes,
dear.” She nodded for Jonah to refill her water glass. “I’ve made arrangements
for the family to attend a private showing.”

“Kara
saw the exhibit when it was in New York.”

Kara
smiled at him. “The history and craftsmanship are equally fascinating”.

“Rosalie
should show you her egg,” Uncle Jackson said.

Eyes
wide with surprise, Kara turned to Wyatt. “Your mother has a Faberge egg?”

“It’s
been in my family for years,” his mother volunteered. “My grandfather bought
the egg for his bride during their honeymoon trip to Europe. I’ll be happy to
show it to you after dinner if you’d like.”

“I’d
love to see it.” Kara’s eyes twinkled. “Was that one of the grandfathers who
was christened with his mother's maiden name?”

“Yes,
Winslow Wyatt, and his wife, Ruth Ann Mercer. Their son, Mercer, was our
father,” Jackson answered. “Wyatt’s told you about our peculiarity for family
names, has he?”

“Yes,
it’s an interesting custom fairly common in the south, isn’t it?”

“Kara
worries that not every surname would adapt well.” Wyatt remembered her
reference to Frumkins and Pifflemeisters.

“I
always thought Ashford would work beautifully as a first name,” Chloe supplied
with a pout.

“Are
you worried that Enderley doesn’t live up to the tradition?” Rosalie inquired
of Kara.

Wyatt
frowned at the turn the discussion had taken. Ready to guide the table into
safer conversational waters, he found it unnecessary when Uncle Jackson jumped
in.

“Enderley.”
He squinted at the ceiling as though something there would spark his memory.
“That name sounds familiar. Have you ever worked for Wyatt Enterprises, Kara?”