Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (28 page)

“Is
that enough for you? Is that what you want? If you don’t say something soon,
I’ll start feeling very foolish. And very distraught.”

Her
heart filled with joy, and her love for him spilled out. Before she allowed
herself to throw herself into his embrace, she felt compelled to ask one
question. “If you feel this way, why did you say you wanted to get married for
Sean’s sake?”

“I
thought it was the best chance I had of getting you to say yes.” He used a
knuckle to caress her cheek. “Was I wrong?”

She
laughed and threw her arms around him. “Wrong, wrong, gloriously wrong.”

He
lifted her up, swinging her around in a dizzying whirl. “I definitely love you.
Never doubt that.”

Before
the whirling ended, his mouth found hers. The heat and power of his kiss reinforced
his words, underscoring his devotion with the forces of passion and truth. His
lips molded to hers, coaxing, stroking, and encouraging. When they were both
breathless and weak with desire, he asked, “What about you?”

“Mmmm,”
she said as he nuzzled her neck. “I don’t have your way with words, but I love
you very much.”

He
lifted his head and grinned. “It’s about time you admitted it.”

She
gave the hair at the nape of his neck a playful tug. “I don’t know why it took
me so long to realize it.”

“The
love was always there, that’s why we could never make our good-byes stick. Even
after I knew how I felt, I wasn’t sure you’d ever be ready to take a chance on
me.”

“I’m
ready now.” With the simple declaration, she reflected his certainty, finally
free of her past, her guilt, her fear. “Whenever you are.”

He
crushed her to him, capturing her mouth and body, and making her head swim.
Kara dimly heard a moan and a whimper. At first, she thought it came from
Wyatt. Then the sound turned into a definable word.

“Mommy?”

They
sprang apart. Wyatt groaned in frustration as he withdrew his hand from Kara’s
breast.

“Mommy?”
Sean repeated and then, “Daddy?”

“Just
a minute, honey,” Kara called and helped herself to one last kiss before
straightening her clothing. She looked at Wyatt warily, trying to judge his
reaction to the interruption. Being a parent could play hell with one’s love
life. She hoped he realized it. “Sorry.”

“Don’t
be sorry. He’s my son, too.” Wyatt helped her with her buttons then pulled out
the tail of his shirt before they turned to join Sean. Together. “Later we can
pick up where we left off.”

“But
Sean—” She cut herself off and remembered. The future would start now. “Will be
fine without us for a little while, won’t he?”

Standing
in front of the panoramic window of The Hansett Museum where Wyatt and Kara had
first met, he held Sean and waited with Dylan and Ryan in front of the small
group of guests. When the harpist began to play, he drew in a breath as Kara
stepped forward. Nothing fancy, she had decreed, over his mother’s protests.
Kara had wanted their wedding to be simple, meaningful, and soon. He wanted
whatever she wanted as long as her wish list included a honeymoon.

Proceeded
by her sister and Regina and accompanied by her father, his bride looked
radiant in a cream-colored dress that she had allowed Rosalie to custom order.
Embroidered flowers in the exact lavender of Kara’s eyes bordered the neck and
hem of the deceptively simple garment.

As
they exchanged vows in the old-style Biblical language Wyatt found so lyrical,
he was sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the vicinity—not even his—when Sean
produced the gold rings for his parents to exchange.

Enjoying
each moment of the ceremony and reception, Wyatt and Kara allowed his mother to
play grande dame, while Izzy and Nina competed in housekeeping chores and
Regina flirted outrageously with Dylan.

Everyone
Wyatt and Kara loved was present, including Kara’s mother, still using a cane
to help her walk. Wyatt had been moved by the toast presented by Kara’s father
and the warmth with which her family welcomed him. The few guests mingled,
talked, ate and drank freely.

When
the last of the food had disappeared and the last good wishes had been
expressed, Dylan and Ryan had hugged him and slapped him on the back. The three
men who were more like brothers than friends had taken their annual vacation
together the month before and Wyatt shared with them the whole story of his
life with Kara. Shocked that he had kept the relationship from them, they
ribbed him mercilessly about it, but accepted that at last one of them would be
getting married and settling down.

“Kara’s
a keeper,” Ryan said now. “Happy for you.”

“Happy
it’s you and not me,” Dylan joked, but Wyatt thought he detected a note of
envy, too. The constant social round wore thin after a while, as Wyatt was very
much aware.

Waving
good-bye as the guests climbed into the limos for the return trip to the hotel,
he and Kara were headed to the cabin for the night and a privately chartered
cruise after that.

“I
don’t think he’s even going to miss us.” Wyatt gave Sean a final kiss and
passed him to Allie. The child left with Allie, Xander, Maria, and Marco
without a whimper.

“Oh,
I know.” She snuggled against her new husband. “I’m not worried.”

“You’re
not?”

“He’s
in the hands of competent people who love him. If that isn’t enough to keep him
safe, then there isn’t enough protection in the world.”

She
had made great progress in the past few months. Even though he didn’t believe
she was as blasé as she pretended, she did seem agreeable to letting Sean enjoy
time with his grandparents while they honeymooned… which Wyatt was eager to
begin. Tonight, a romantic evening under the stars. Tomorrow, a sailboat in the
Virgin Islands.

As
Nina climbed into her car with her husband, she had whispered in Wyatt’s ear
that there was a late-night supper prepared and waiting for them at the cabin.
But food could wait. As soon as they arrived at the cabin, Wyatt took Kara by
the hand and led her to the chaise lounge.

“In
case I forgot to say so, you look beautiful.” He ran a fingertip along the
scoop neck of her dress. “Do you want to change out of this? I have plans that
might wreck your dress.”

She
put her arms around his shoulders, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “What kind
of plans?”

He
circled his hands around her waist. “Nothing the wedding vows don’t encourage.”

“Such
as?”

“Having
and holding.” He kissed her cheek.“Loving and cherishing.”

“What
about ‘With my body I will worship thee’?”

“Definitely
that, and then,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m going to plight thee my
troth.”

“Is
that your troth pressing against me?” She giggled in a very un-Kara-like way.
“I know you wanted to use the old language, but have you noticed how those
words have taken on a decidedly un-Biblical turn?”

“You
just have a creative mind... but keep it up, I like it.” He nibbled down her
neck to the rise of a breast and considered the most effective way of getting
her out of her dress. He had a feeling something skimpy and sexy resided
underneath. His fingers searched for the zipper at the back of her dress. “Can
we take this off now? I have this uncontrollable urge to be fruitful and
multiply.”

“Do
you really?” She straightened up, clearly surprised.

She’d
read a deeper meaning into his frivolous comment than he intended, but he
paused. The topic did warrant discussion.

“Not
at this moment, but eventually, yes. What about you?”

“I
assumed you didn’t want more children. You seem so satisfied with Sean.”

“One
thing we’re both going to have to learn,” he said, “is to communicate better,
not to assume anything. If you’re uncertain about something, just ask.”

“Are
you saying you would like to have another child? Sean’s a joy, I know, but
except for the conception part, babies are not conducive to romance. Diapers
and colic and midnight feedings... They’re a lot of work.”

“I
wouldn’t mind experiencing all the things I missed with Sean. I want to see
your stomach swell with my child inside it.” He paused to pat her tummy with
his hand and stroke lower. “I want to witness the birth of a baby conceived in
love and see you nurture our son or daughter at your breast.” He cupped her
breasts in his palms and rubbed his thumbs across her nipples.

Kara
hugged him. “I’m sorry I kept so much from you.”

“No,
don’t feel that way. Sean is so much more than I ever expected to share with
you. If we don’t have another child in a year or two, I won’t let regrets
shadow the happiness we have.”

“No
regrets. That was the original promise we made one another, but we’ve been
through a lot. Are you sure you don’t have any?”

“Well...”
He hesitated. “Maybe just one.”

“What
do you regret?” She looked startled and he smiled. He really shouldn’t tease
her.

“Nothing,
except...Well, maybe the tattoos.”

She
relaxed against him, and they laughed together as he returned his attention to
her zipper. The dress slid from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. He was gratified
to see he’d been right. Very sexy underwear. It would be a shame to remove it,
but some things just had to be done. He unfastened the front clasp of her bra
and pushed the lacy straps down her arms.

While
he toyed with her breasts, she removed his tie, jacket, and shirt. He was more
entranced than he had been the first time, when he’d had no expectations beyond
the night. This time, his expectations included forever.

When
they stood naked together, Kara glowed like a moon goddess. She reached up and
traced the scar on his chin. “Thank you. For healing me, for loving me and
giving me life.”

“No
thanks are necessary.” He smiled in memory of the coincidence that had first
united them. “It was my pleasure.”

“Let
my thanks be your pleasure, too,” she whispered, repeating words she’d said
that first night.

As
the first shimmer of love began four years earlier on a deck under a starry
night, so began their eternity.

Thank you for
reading, Winning Wyatt, the first book in the Billionaire Brotherhood Series!

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MEET
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CURSED
BY LOVE

MEANT
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The Billionaire Brotherhood

DARING DYLAN,
October 2015 Release

REMAKING RYAN,
January 2016 Release

Chapter One

With
his head down and his mouth clamped shut, Dylan Bradford plunged through the
crowd of paparazzi snapping his picture and pelting questions at him outside
his building.

“Dylan,
where’s Maya?”

“Are
you getting married?”

“How
do you feel about your mother’s death?”

How did the vultures think he felt?
He felt like planting a right hook in a
reporter’s face.
 
Instead, he plunged
into the back of the limo as one of them asked, “What are you going to do now?”
The chauffeur blocked out the
paparazzi’s
buzz with a
slam of the door.

“What
do they expect me to say?” he asked his sister and her husband. “That I’m going
to Disney World?” He kissed Natalie’s cheek and reached across her to slap
palms with
Linc
as the car eased into Manhattan’s
gridlock traffic.

The
asinine questions probably grated on him worse than usual because he didn’t
have answers to some of them. Not to the ones about Maya. If he wanted his
personal life to headline the next edition of the supermarket tabloids, he
could have announced that the relationship—if it ever could have been called
that—was toast.

But
what the hell
was
he going to do now?
More of the same, damn it, when what he needed was a diversion, or a
challenge... Maybe, even a crusade. Some deserving or demanding outlet to
channel all this pent up energy.

“There
wasn’t a media circus outside our apartment.”
Linc
stretched his long legs out in front of him.

Natalie
rubbed the baby bump that harbored her second child and made a theatrical
grimace. “We just have to face it, honey. We aren’t blessed with my brother’s
style, looks, or charisma.”

A
stab of sorrow ambushed Dylan as their mother’s sense of mischief haunted him
from his younger sister’s blue eyes.
 

Slouching
down in the seat, he pushed the emotion away. God knew the day ahead would be
long and difficult enough without breaking out the tissues just yet. “Some
blessings carry a curse, you know.”

“It’s
being named one of
People Magazine’s
ten most eligible bachelors that draws all the attention.” Her smile revealed
her dimple. “If you really want the press to lose interest, you could marry
Maya.”

“Don’t
you start on me, too. It’s bad enough when
they
do it.” Dylan jerked a thumb toward the photographers keeping pace
alongside the car.

He
loved Natalie and
Linc
, but he was in no mood to be
teased about his pseudo-celebrity status. Especially not by them.

It
wasn’t their fault they had everything that eluded him. He was happy for them,
really, with their successful careers, loving marriage, two-year old son, and
baby girl on the way.

He’d
set the same goals for himself once upon a time, but nepotism at its finest
meant gaining a partnership in his maternal grandfather’s stock brokerage
hadn’t taken much effort. His boredom with the dating scene had him doubting
the right woman would ever come along. And that little detail left his hopes
for marriage and fatherhood exactly nowhere.

When
Bradfords
marry, his grandfather used to say, they
marry for keeps. Because there had never been a divorce in the long Bradford
history, Dylan had always been encouraged to sow his wild oats, the way his
father and grandfather had, before settling down.

But
now, with his mother’s death weighing on him, Dylan felt trapped in a
meaningless lifestyle. And critical of the self-centered women he dated—like
supermodel Maya Griffin. He wouldn’t mind the idea of settling down with
someone cool, confident, and capable. Smart, stylish, and sophisticated. Like
his mother and sister.

But
women like them were few and far between in his social circle.

He
stared out the window as they left Manhattan, concerned that the all-show,
no-substance women he dated reflected the kind of man he’d become. His gray
mood darkened even more, like the stormy sky overhead.

“My
cousin from Houston will be here next month.”
Linc
broke the silence with studied casualness. “Remember meeting Victoria last
Christmas?”

Oh,
God, save him from matchmaking friends and relatives. “I think so. Tall?
Blonde? Interested in horses and...” He searched his memory. “Decorating?”

“Fashion
design. That’s why she’s moving to New York.” Natalie exchanged a
conspiratorial look with
Linc
. “And since we’ll have
our hands full with a new baby, we’re hoping you might show her around.”

Dylan
began a knee-jerk refusal, then stopped. Although Natalie had been trying to
fix him up for years, it was unlike
Linc
to
interfere. They must like this girl, and clearly, he wasn’t having any luck
finding the right woman on his own. He sighed and slouched lower. “Let me know
when she gets here.”

Linc
reached around Natalie to pound Dylan’s
shoulder. “You won’t regret it.”

“If
I do, I’ll make sure you do, too,” he warned. “And don’t prepare the pre-
nup
just yet. I’m only agreeing to meet her, that’s all.”

Following
an elbow to the ribs and a speaking look from Natalie,
Linc
backed off.

“I
understand.”

Natalie
snuggled closer to her husband and turned to Dylan. “Why do you think Lawrence
wants to see us after the will’s read today?”

“Maybe
he intends to advise us on investments or tax issues,” Dylan offered.

“You’re
the financial whiz kid. He’s more likely to ask for your advice.” She rested
her crossed her arms on her tummy and studied him. “You know more than you’re
saying, don’t you? Tell me.”

 
“Go ahead,”
Linc
said.
“You know she won’t let up until you do.”

“Mother
warned me that Karen Hammonds—“

“Dad’s
publicist, before he died,” Natalie explained for
Linc’s
benefit.

“—has
penned an exposé of life on the campaign trail with Dad. You know how
protective Mom was of his reputation.”

“That
witch!” Natalie bit out. “Who cares what she has to say after all this time?
Anything she knows about Dad is more than twenty years old and probably a lie.”

“If
there was any dirty laundry lurking around out there, someone would have aired
it a long time ago. So Lawrence’s request to meet with us may not have anything
to do with Karen.” Noting the circles under Natalie’s eyes, he wished he hadn’t
speculated. “How are you holding up? If you want to skip out on this
appointment today, just say so. Lawrence will wait, if we ask him to.”

She
crossed her eyes at him. “Dylan, I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”

He
knew sympathy would fail beneath her hormonally rampant mood swings, but he
gave it a shot. “Yesterday’s funeral has worn us all down, especially after the
strain of Mother’s illness. Pregnancy must increase the pressure.”

Natalie
pursed her lips. “Actually, the pregnancy soothes me, the way being with Josh
does. It makes me feel a special bond with Mom and Dad. And kind of proud to know
that I’m extending their legacy.” Tears welled. “Does that sound like the
ultimate conceit?”

“Not
at all, love.”
Linc
gave her his handkerchief along
with a reassuring squeeze.
 
“It’s sweet.”

And
just like that, Dylan felt that pang again. The one he’d felt a lot lately. The
one that made him feel so isolated and alone.

Elegant-as-a-maestro,
attorney Lawrence Sutton arranged himself behind the Louis XIV desk that now
belonged to Natalie—along with the rest of Margaret Bradford’s New Haven
estate. Nat and
Linc
sat opposite Lawrence in
matching Chippendale chairs. Dylan hovered behind them, too tense to sit.

All
of the will’s bequeaths and legacies had been announced earlier. No big surprises,
but now Dylan geared himself up for whatever bombshell Lawrence had saved just
for them.
 

“I
can’t tell you how sorry I am about your mother’s death.” Lawrence removed his
reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his aristocratic nose between his
thumb and forefinger. “I served her interests to the best of my abilities and
pledge to do the same for you.”

“Thank
you,” Natalie said. “Mother appreciated your loyalty, and so do we.”

“I
must tell you, your mother recently asked me to handle a couple of matters for
her in a way that went against my advice.” He paused for a sip of coffee.
“Shortly before her illness was diagnosed—about the time the four of you began
sifting through the nominees for this year’s Foundation awards...” He delayed
to sip again.

“Lawrence,”
Dylan prodded.

The
old man
steepled
his fingers together and drew a deep
breath. “There are two final pieces of business your mother wanted me to share
with you in private. One of them is regarding a holding she left for Dylan.”

“What
else is there?” For tax purposes, she’d divvied up most of her personal
property years ago. There was nothing else that he and Natalie needed or
wanted. And the Matthew Bradford Foundation was well funded.

“The
cabin in East
Langden
, Maine.” Lawrence drew the
words out with all due gravity.
 
“Where
your father died.”

Gripping
Linc’s
hand with white knuckles, Natalie gasped.
“That can’t be right. The cabin belonged to the Bradford side of the family.”

“I
guess it belonged to Dad, and it went to her along with his other holdings.”
Dylan’s thoughts raced full speed ahead, but only questions with no answers
emerged from the chaos inside his brain. “But why didn’t she get rid of it at
some point? It seems like it would have been more appropriate for Grandfather or
Uncle Arthur to have maintained it all this time.”

Natalie
frowned. “And why not tell us about it?”

 
“As far as I know, she’d only been there a
handful of times, and that was before Dad’s death.”
 
Dylan rubbed his temple where pulsing tension
had developed into a sharp staccato.

“Can’t
you picture Mother dressed in Versace and cooking a gourmet meal in a kitchen
that hadn’t been remodeled since the Truman administration?” Natalie threw him
a nostalgic grin.

Propping
his shoulder against an eighteenth century armoire, Dylan turned back to
Lawrence. “What more do you know about this?”

“Not
much, but I believe it ties in with this other business.” The lawyer squared
his shoulders. “Last year, your mother received a letter of inquiry from a
young man claiming to be your father’s son.”

“That’s
impossible.” Dylan looked to his sister for agreement.

Natalie
and
Linc
wore matching expressions of disbelief.
Linc
slipped his arm around her and pulled her against him.

Natalie
echoed Dylan’s opinion. “Impossible.”

Dylan
turned back to Lawrence. “What type of ‘inquiry’?”

“Yes,
and by whom?”
Linc
asked.

“What
does the claimant want?” Natalie finished. “Money?”

Lawrence
opened a file on the desk. “His name is Clayton Harris. He said he’d simply
like to have the matter of his paternity confirmed. Apparently he bears a
marked similarity in appearance to the Bradford men. And it’s long been the
rumor in the town where he was raised.”

“Rumor!”
The word exploded from Dylan’s mouth like a curse. “Why the hell would you
allow Mother to be distressed during her last months over a bloody rumor?”

Lawrence
stiffened at the criticism. “She corresponded with the young man without
immediately taking me into her confidence.”