Текст книги "The Billionaire's Forgotten Fiancée"

Автор книги: Nadia Lee

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ginger stared at the ceiling. The TV was playing a Korean drama. She didn’t understand a word without the subtitles, but reading seemed like too much trouble to bother with. A woman and a man were talking in complete gibberish, and occasionally hooting with laughter.

Romantic comedy. Always a fun genre. And hey, if she couldn’t have real romance, she could at least live vicariously through others who did.

Until her control would suddenly break down and she’d start sobbing.

She’d gotten better though. The intervals between her crying jags were getting longer. At this rate, she would be functional in about three months. Maybe four.

Somebody knocked on her door. “Hey, Ginger. It’s me—Debbie.”

“It’s unlocked!” Ginger yelled.

Debbie came inside, carrying a big purple and yellow tote bag that matched her dress. She’d been stopping by every day, ostensibly to bring food. Ginger knew better, but played along anyway. “So what delicious thing did you bring this time?”

“Just some bacon wrapped scallops. Oh, and cheesecake.”

“That sounds good. Does your housekeeper know you’ve been filching food?”

“She does, even though she pretends like she doesn’t see it. She thinks I need to eat more.”

No kidding. Debbie was thin enough to blow away in a stiff breeze.

“Let me put the scallops in the fridge,” Debbie continued. “I want to eat the cheesecake first.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Ginger said. She needed the sugar and fat.

Debbie puttered around in the kitchen, then brought out two small plates. “You know,” she said, as she placed a slice in front of Ginger, “I should get you something for your birthday.”

“It’s not until next month.”

“Still. An early birthday present is never a bad thing.”

Ginger put a forkful of cheesecake in her mouth. It tasted sinfully good. “What are you thinking of?”

“Um. Don’t get mad…” Debbie flushed.

“Did you order me a custom dildo or something?”

“No!” Debbie giggled. “I bought you some housekeeping.” She sobered. “Please don’t take it the wrong way, but you haven’t even finished unpacking your bags from Thailand. I just thought it’d be nice if you had a couple professionals to help you clean up. And maybe it’ll make you feel better, too.”

Ginger took a look at her place. Two of her suitcases still stood in a corner between the kitchen and the living room. A thick layer of dust had settled over her shelves and framed photos, and even her TV showed the lack of care, where her fingerprints had smudged up the dust. Clean laundry sat in two baskets, and she’d been picking things out of there to wear, not giving a fig about the wrinkles. The only reason why the place wasn’t overflowing with garbage was that Debbie generally took it out when she left.

When had she turned into such a pathetic, dependent pig? Ginger had never been neat, but this was horrific even for her.

Was this her way of getting over Shane? If so, it was a dumb, dumb way. If they ran into each other in the future, what would she look like? Some wild, unkempt woman with wrinkled clothes and hag-hair, while he was masculine perfection?

“You know what? You’re right,” Ginger said. “It’s about time I did something about my place.” She got up. “Don’t bother with housekeeping. I’ll take care of it.”

“But—”

She hugged Debbie. “You’re the best friend ever. I’m sorry I made you feel like you have to mother me. I won’t make you worry again. It’s about time I get out and make myself busy. It’s better than sitting here and pining over what can’t be.”

Debbie smiled. “I’ll help with the cleaning. Because god knows you need some.”

They picked up every piece of trash off the floor. Ginger dumped all the dirty clothes from her suitcases into the bathroom to be laundered. It was too bad about the clean, but wrinkled clothes, but she hated ironing. She’d have to find some other way to make them look more respectable. She also tossed every expired item and stuff that looked wilted and gross into the black plastic bag Debbie held open. Debbie wiped things down, while Ginger cleaned the windows and vacuumed.

Three hours later, the apartment finally looked presentable. “Ta-da!” Debbie said, spreading her arms wide. “We do good work, don’t we?”

“Yes!” Ginger did a small fist pump. “I’m ready to face the world.”

Debbie has great instincts, Ginger thought. Somehow, getting the apartment straightened up had cleared her head, revitalizing her. “Maybe I should hire professional housekeeping after all,” Ginger said. “I’ve always been horrible about cleaning up after myself.”

“I know people who can do it for cheap,” Debbie said. “And they’re very good. My mom has them come in twice a month.”

Somebody knocked on the door. Ginger took a peek, and her mouth dried. It was Shane.

“Who is it?” Debbie asked from behind her.

Ginger moved a few steps away from the door. “Shane,” she whispered. “He knows I’m in here,” she added almost numbly. Why had she just thought she would be ready to face the world? Shane was that world. The wound was still too fresh for her to pretend it didn’t hurt anymore.

“So? If you don’t want to talk to him, ignore him. This is your home.”

“Ginger, I know you’re in there!” shouted Shane.

Debbie narrowed her eyes. “Wow, he’s noisy. You know what, let me get rid of him.” She pushed Ginger out of view and yanked the door open. “Hey, keep it down before we call the pol… Trevor?”

Ginger blinked. Trevor?

“Don’t try to tell me Ginger’s asleep. It’s too early,” Shane said.

For once Debbie stepped aside without arguing. Ginger stepped in front of the door.

Shane looked like…Shane. She didn’t know how else to describe his confidence, the way his broad shoulders seemed to invite her to rest her head there, or the warmth he elicited in her. It wasn’t just sexual, but emotional and deep, like in his arms was exactly where she belonged—her cocoon, her safe and sheltered world.

But stress had etched lines in his forehead and brackets around his mouth. His cheekbones stood out more prominently than before, and the skin under his eyes was a few shades darker. She wanted to reach out and cradle his head gently against her heart, but instead she clenched her hands at her sides.

The two men stepped inside. Dark stubble covered Trevor’s square jaw, and his hair stood up like it hadn’t been combed in weeks. He’d lost his usual swagger. Shockingly, he was wearing a dress shirt and slacks. She’d never seen him in anything nice, not even for his college graduation, so it took her a while to accept that it wasn’t some kind of doppelganger. What convinced her was the bloody shirt. And the wadded tissue stuck in one nostril. His upper lip had swollen to the point that it looked like a sausage.

“What happened to your face?” she asked, focusing on her brother. He was easier to deal with than Shane. “Or is that classified?”

Trevor inclined his head sideways. “He punched me out.”

“What?” Her gaze darted to Shane, who looked fine, not a speck of blood on him. It didn’t make sense. Trevor was deadly with his fists, and he wasn’t the type to let another guy hit him and get away with it. “Did you two…fight?”

“If you can call it that,” Shane said, his voice cold. He jerked his chin at Trevor. “Tell her.”

Trevor dragged his huge hands through his hair. He breathed out hard—not quite a sigh but not quite a sound of exasperation either—and swallowed a few times.

Ginger’s heart began to race. She’d seen Trevor do that a few times, and inevitably the news was bad—once, when she was in high school, he’d had to tell her somebody had run over their dog. “What is it, Trevor? Did something happen to Mom and Dad?”

He shook his head. “They’re fine.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. If they were okay, whatever Trevor had to say was probably not a big deal. “Just spit it out.”

“The photos you were talking about.”

Every cell in her body stilled. “What about them?”

Trevor broke eye contact and looked down. “I was the one behind them.”

She blinked a few times, then laughed a little tremulously. “What?” He’d always wanted to be a comedian, except none of his jokes were funny. Maybe he’d gotten tired of doing whatever he’d been doing and decided to try his hand at stand-up comedy again.

“The pictures…” He sighed. “I didn’t mean anything bad to happen.”

A giant claw seemed to squeeze her neck and chest. “You didn’t mean—? What did you think would happen when you sent pictures like that?”

“I just thought it was shitty that he”—Trevor gestured at Shane—“didn’t appreciate you. You guys had been together for so long, and…well, he kept dragging his feet about proposing and, you know, doing the right thing. So I thought I’d show him that you had other options. I wanted to let him know if he didn’t act soon, he was going to lose you.”

“That was your plan? Make me look loose so Shane would try to chain me down?” Her voice started to rise. “You wrecked over a year of our lives!”

Trevor shook his head sorrowfully. “I didn’t know the pictures were like that. I had a guy make them and mail them, but I hadn’t seen them until now. They were just supposed to show you having a good time and men looking at you, checking you out with, you know, admiration and all, to demonstrate you had other options. Not like you hanging all over them.”

“You have no idea what you did. I told you to stay away from our relationship.” Trevor had always been too protective, but this crossed the line. “I thought the man I love didn’t want me anymore—wouldn’t want our baby either.”

“Well, if you had been pregnant, I would never ha—”

“I was pregnant!”

Trevor paled. “What?”

She pointed a trembling finger at him. “I was pregnant, and I lost the baby on my way back from South Africa. That was why I missed my connection in Amsterdam and stayed there for so long.”

“Oh my god, Ginger. I didn’t know…”

“I didn’t tell you—or Mom, or Dad—because what would be the point? By the time I came back, I was finished with my medical treatment, and the doctors said I was fine—physically. But you…you wrecked so much.”

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

She looked away. She felt…hollow. How could her brother have done this? “Me, too.”

“Ginger—”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d just leave now. Unless you have any more confessions about how you destroyed something that’s important to me.”

Trevor reached out, but she scooted back like his hand was a viper. His face crumpled, now a complete ruin. Debbie took one glance at Ginger, stepped around her and escorted him outside.

The door shut behind them, leaving Ginger and Shane alone.

* * *

Debbie sat next to Trevor in the stairwell. She didn’t trust him to be on his own without doing something stupid—men could be hot-headed and dumb at the best of times, much less when they’d received a blow as nasty as the one Trevor had just gotten.

He buried his face in his hands and sobbed, the sound pulling deep from his gut. She’d never heard a grown man cry like this. She looked up at the ceiling, blinking away her own tears. All that pain and hurt, and all because Trevor was overprotective of his sister. She couldn’t even kick his ass for Ginger.

“Did she suffer a lot? Her baby…” Trevor asked, his voice thick. “Jesus, what the fuc—what am I saying? Of course she suffered.”

“She had some pain, but she also had an excellent team of medical professionals who did everything they could to make her comfortable.”

He shook his head. “I killed her baby. If she hadn’t been flying, it would’ve been okay.”

“Maybe, and maybe not. Sometimes things just…happen, and it’s nobody’s fault.” It was such a comforting mantra, such a good guiding principle, for easing one’s shattered soul.

He wept some more, then finally said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being there for my sister. Now I know why you went to Amsterdam and took her on that ‘shopping spree.’”

Debbie gave him a lopsided smile. “It was nothing.”

“I should pay you for that.”

“Shut the fuck up. I did what any good friend would’ve done. The sightseeing cheered her up, so that’s more than enough for me.”

“I’m glad she had you there.” He sniffed hard and stared at a spot straight in front of him. “She’ll never forgive me, will she?”

Debbie shook her head. “If you really think that, you don’t know your sister very well. She’ll forgive you soon enough. The girl’s just not capable of holding a grudge.” She put a hand on his back. “But you gotta do something here, okay? You have to make up your mind that you’ll never, ever meddle in her life like this again.”

“Jesus, never.” He looked at her, then clutched her free hand. “I swear it.”

Debbie nodded. “I believe you. Now let’s give our couple some time to work things out.”

They stood up slowly, like a pair of old people. “They’re going to get back together, right?” Trevor said.

“I don’t know.” She frowned. What Trevor had done was so big, she wasn’t sure exactly how Shane and Ginger would deal with it. “Let’s hope so.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ginger’s legs quivered, then folded beneath her. She extended an arm to catch herself, but Shane wrapped his arms around her before she could hit the floor.

She closed her eyes at the sweet sensation of having his body pressed so tightly against hers. Nobody else could make her feel so protected and wanted and cherished.

Except…she wasn’t sure about what he felt anymore. Her brother had done incalculable damage to them both, but especially to Shane. If he hadn’t sent the fake photos, Shane would’ve never left the States or had the accident or lost his memory. He’d missed out on so much in the past year—his brothers’ engagements and his sister’s marriage.

And then there was their baby. Shane had always wanted children. He adored them.

He ran a thumb over her cheek. “Stop crying, Ginger. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“Already feel sick.” She squeezed her eyes shut as more tears flowed, and pressed a fist against her heart. “It hurts.”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead, then swung her up and carried her into the bedroom. He put her down on the bed and curled around her, warming her cool skin. His shirt was soaked now, but she couldn’t stop crying.

“You must be so angry,” she said through the lump in her throat.

He merely sighed and rubbed her back. Ginger clenched her hands. He was probably too angry to even talk about it. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if their positions had been reversed.

She buried her face in his warm chest and inhaled his familiar, comforting scent. For now this was more than what she’d expected. She’d think about the rest later.

* * *

Shane rubbed Ginger’s back. She slowly calmed as time passed, and eventually fell asleep.

Did she have any idea her tears were like acid eating into his soul? He touched her face gently. If she had, she would’ve swallowed them, done her best not to hurt him. But that was why he loved her so much, and why he was so scared of being with her. She made him feel everything so intensely, all the way to the center of his heart. When she wasn’t around, it was like he wasn’t truly alive. He would go through all the right motions, do what was expected…but he wouldn’t feel anything.

After a time, he carefully disentangled himself and stood up. He hated to leave her side, but there were things to do. She probably didn’t have anything edible in the fridge—she was terrible about grocery shopping—and he didn’t want her hungry. They had an important thing or two to discuss. The sharp object in his pocket kept pricking his thigh.

Moving quietly, he went to the living room. There, he called the family concierge. “The dinner I requested some weeks ago on my return from Thailand.”

“The one you didn’t show for?” No rebuke, just confirmation.

“That’s right. I want it now.” He gave her Ginger’s address. “It’s a small apartment, and you have to be absolutely quiet because there’s a woman sleeping.”

The concierge didn’t miss a beat. “Anything else, sir?”

“That’s all.”

“Consider it done.”

* * *

The light coming into the bedroom was quite slanted. Ginger blinked, then rubbed her raw and gritty eyes. It didn’t help much.

She looked at the clock. A little after five…

Gasping, she got to her feet. Her skin felt tight from dried tears, and she splashed some cold water over her face. The fleshy parts under her eyes were puffy, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

“Shane?” she called out as she emerged from the master bedroom.

Some classical music was playing softly on a stereo—not hers, since she listened to music on her iPod and didn’t own an external speaker. With a small frown, she walked down the short hall and stopped dead at the entrance to her living room. Small, fragrant candles were everywhere, their tiny flames giving her apartment a soft buttery glow. Thai orchid blossoms were scattered all over the floor, and a thick, white cloth covered her humble dining table, which was set for two. A couple of covered silver trays sat in the center. Stiff ivory covers embroidered with silver and gold upgraded her two chairs into something that looked like they could fit right in at a restaurant as fancy as Éternité. A bottle of rose champagne was chilling in a shiny bucket full of ice.

“Hi,” he said from the balcony. He came inside, leaving the door open.

“Hi,” she said, suddenly shy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thank you.” She tucked her hair behind an ear. “I wasn’t sure if you were still here or not.” Wasn’t sure if you’d walk out of my life forever.

“One day you’ll never wonder about that.” He put an index finger under her chin and tilted it upward. “I’ll never leave you again.”

Her mouth parted. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Hope stirred, but she didn’t dare… The moment felt too fragile and fleeting—a dream. If it’s a dream, I never want to wake up.

“We should eat,” he said. “I haven’t eaten anything since brunch.”

“I didn’t eat anything all day.”

He pulled out a chair. “You should take better care of yourself.”

She sat down and spread the thick cotton napkin over her lap.

He settled to her left and uncovered the platters on the table. “I didn’t know when you’d be up, so I arranged for cold soup and cold meat. Along with some salad and bread and cheesecake.”

“Wow.” Shane ate well, and he almost always got what he wanted, but this was an amazing setup on such a short notice. “This is incredible.”

He smiled and discreetly popped the champagne. They clinked glasses without a toast. Her brain was too sluggish after that emotional wringer—plus the unplanned nap—to come up with something snappy, and Shane didn’t seem interested in coming up with anything either.

The cool pink bubbly tickled her throat. Despite her nerves, she hummed appreciatively at the perfect blend of berries and oak. It was difficult to feel tense while drinking champagne this amazing.

He plucked two bowls of soup sitting on a bed of ice and placed one in front of her. It was refreshing and flavorful. She licked her lips. She couldn’t believe how hungry she was.

They ate in silence, but it didn’t make her uncomfortable. There was something very companionable and lovely about just being with him.

After she polished off two slices of cheesecake, he poured her the last of the champagne. “You don’t want any more?” she asked, glancing at his empty glass.

“Probably better if you have it.” He placed the bottle by the clean platters. “I debated the wisdom of bringing Trevor here and having him tell you everything. I thought it might help you to know, but I should’ve thought about how you would feel, hearing that your brother did it.”

She took a big sip. The food and alcohol seemed to have somehow blunted her reaction to that. It still hurt, but not enough to make her cry all over again. “How did you find out?”

“He tracked me down at La Mer to tell me.”

Stunned, she almost dropped her glass.

Shane gave her a small, ironic smile. “I was looking into who’d masterminded the whole thing, but none of the investigators were able to find anything. Then voilà, he confessed to it.”

“Why were you looking into it?”

“Honestly? I was planning to bring you their head on a silver platter.”

She bit her lip. “I spoke to him a few days ago and told him that the photos messed up everything. I guess he felt guilty. I don’t even know what to say, except that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why? Trevor’s a big boy. It has nothing to do with you.”

“But he’s my brother.”

“Ginger.” Shane held her hand in his and squeezed. “If we had to pay for all our family’s sins, we’d spend our lives apologizing. For example, I know Dane forced you into going to Thailand. And Vanessa wasn’t very nice to you after you came back. My parents were never gracious to you—”

“That’s not true.”

“Fake smiles don’t count.” Shane put a finger over her mouth. “Do you realize how much time we lost because of those damn photos? Let’s not let them take more, okay? Every moment with you is too precious to waste.”

Something hot and sweet blossomed in her chest. This man always knew what to say and do to make her heart flutter. You would think that after being together for over ten years, she would be immune.

She kissed his finger. “Okay.”

He slanted his mouth over hers, his hands cradling her face with infinite care. She opened up to him in every way, her heart and soul bared to him. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of, everything that made her life brighter and worth living for. He groaned deeply in his throat, and carried her to the bedroom.

There he put her down in the center of the bed. His knuckle grazed her skin as he pulled her shirt and shorts away with infinite care. She trembled at the feathery sensation. Goosebumps rose, and he traced the same path with his hot mouth as he disposed of his own clothes.

As her body grew tight and slick with anticipation, her heart raced, swelling with emotion. She’d never imagined she’d have this again with Shane. It was a miracle.

“No, baby, you’re the miracle,” he whispered against her lips, and her eyes widened as she realized she’d spoken aloud. “You have no idea how precious you are.”

He claimed her mouth, hungry, hot and wet. She kissed him back eagerly, putting her hand behind his neck and caressing his beloved face. Her blood heated at the throaty moan he made, and she wanted him inside her, connecting them in the most intimate way a man and a woman could be.

Instead he took his time kissing her. When he finally pulled back from her mouth, he gently pinched her nipples, licking the path between her breasts. “When I lost my memory, I sometimes dreamed of a sanctuary. I just knew it was out there somewhere for me, but I thought it was a place. But now I know it’s you I was searching for all along.”

“Shane,” she sobbed. “Make love to me.”

Desire suffused his face. He linked their hands together, one on each side of her head. “I love you, Ginger,” he said, filling her with one smooth stroke. His darkened eyes bore down on hers as he set a sweet rhythm. “I love you. I love you.”

Pleasure unfurled in her belly, and she felt like her heart would explode with tenderness. “I love you,” she said. “I love you, love you, love—”

He swallowed the rest with his mouth. She arched into him, wanting him to feel how fast her heart was beating for him. She’d never been this exposed and vulnerable, but she felt safe and secure in his arms. He adjusted his angle, turning every thrust into an unbearable jolt of pleasure. Ecstasy sizzled through her veins, and she tightened her fingers around his as she came apart.

“You’re the only one, Ginger,” he groaned into her neck then exploded inside her.

She squeezed his hands. She knew.

* * *

“You need to move in with me,” Shane said with a small groan. “This bed’s too damn small.”

She giggled. “I think it was designed for cuddling.”

“We can cuddle in my bed more comfortably.” Shane’s was a California king.

“Okay.”

“Oh, and I almost forgot…” He reached back and picked up his slacks off the floor.

“I’m not doing your laundry,” she half-joked. Unless it was cotton, she was afraid to wash anything in his closet given most of his clothes cost more than what she made in a month.

“Don’t worry. I’m not marrying you for your housekeeping.”

She started to laugh, and then froze. Her heart pounded as he pulled out the engagement ring. He kissed her knuckles, his mouth lingering over her sensitive skin, then slid the ring back on her hand. “There. Now it’s back exactly where it belongs.”

“Shane…”

“Third time’s the charm.” He smiled. “What do you say?”

“You’re right.” She smiled back. “And, yes.”

His smile turned into a huge grin. “Oh, and we’re getting married ASAP.”

“We are?”

“Yep. Don’t want Trevor to get any ideas.”

“I don’t think he will.” She paused. “Are you ever going to be able to forgive him?”

“Probably. At some point. Because you love him and you’re going to forgive him…and he’s your brother,” Shane said, then kissed her on the mouth again.

When he pulled back, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed and her body tingling with need again. “So how soon is ASAP?”

“In a week or two?”

“We should wait until Mark’s wedding at least.”

“That late?” Shane scowled. “I need to cement my future”—his fingertips traced the curve of her breast—“make sure the best thing that’s ever happened to me doesn’t get away.”

She laughed. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a throaty moan as his lips glided down her belly.