Текст книги "The Billionaire's Forgotten Fiancée"

Автор книги: Nadia Lee

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

Shane pounded on Ginger’s door. He’d considered calling, but he didn’t want to give her time to get her defenses up. No more walls, he thought. He was going to talk to her and they were going to get everything sorted out that night.

Finally the door opened, and a petite Asian woman glared up at him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Her arms were crossed and her jaw jutted out, but the tough routine was ruined by her yellow Winnie the Pooh pajamas. “Do you know what time it is?”

“As a matter of fa—”

“That’s right, it’s after one. Ginger just fell asleep, so I say you get the hell out of here before I call the cops for harassment and public disturbance. And I’m sure they’ll think of some other charges to tack on if I ask nicely.”

He squinted. “Are you Debbie?”

“The one and only. And you’re Shane, the world’s biggest jackass. So nice to meet you and good-bye. Don’t ever darken Ginger’s doorstep again. I’m going to get her a Rottweiler as soon as the pet shops open tomorrow. An early Christmas present.” She bared her teeth.

“I don’t think pet shops sell Rottweilers.”

“For the right price they’ll get one.”

He sighed impatiently. “Look, I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Oh, but I am sooo here to fight with you. I don’t want you anywhere near Ginger.”

“Can we not talk in the hallway? The neighbors are going to hear everything.”

“When did you start caring so much about Ginger anyway?” But Debbie came out with keys jangling in her hand and locked the door. “Come on.”

She flip-flopped her way down the hall and past a heavy metal door that let out onto the emergency stairwell. After Shane had walked past her, she shut it and spun around to face him. The smooth steel platform was just big enough for two people.

“Now nobody’ll hear us,” she said, her voice echoing slightly.

“You know about the pictures, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for a response. “What are they?”

“Oh, that’s funny coming from you. Are you saying you have no idea?”

Shane was starting to get tired of the woman’s sarcasm. “Would I be here if I did?”

Debbie laughed nastily. “I honestly can’t say. You haven’t done anything to prove that you’re a sane individual. The only reason I’m standing here with you alone is because I’ve studied Shaolin wushu since I was eight.” She looked at him cockily. “I’m the stereotypical bad-ass Asian chick, so don’t try anything, buddy.”

“Just tell me!” Shane bit out between clenched teeth.

She crossed her arms. “Last May some photos were mailed to you from Ohio. They were somewhat incriminating, and they featured Ginger. Of course she didn’t actually do any of those things. But whoever photoshopped them is really good because Ginger said they looked totally legit.

“So okay, they explain why you disappeared and cut all communication with her. I guess you were so pissed off and felt betrayed that you felt like you couldn’t talk to her. I get that, I really do. Given, you know, how fucked up your family is and all.” The woman stepped forward and put a finger in his chest, jabbing him for emphasis. “But Ginger should’ve been given a chance to explain herself before you just cut her out like that. Seriously, how many years had you guys been dating? You should’ve known she would never do anything to hurt you.”

Shane stared at Debbie. Her words were like blows to his gut, but he’d had no idea. He still couldn’t remember anything about the pictures she was talking about. “Is that why she’s been avoiding me? She found out about the photos?”

“No, it’s much worse. I’ll tell you the whole story since you’re supposedly all amnesiac and everything.” The cynical twist of her lips said she didn’t believe that. “She tried to figure out who would do such a hateful thing to the two of you. When she couldn’t trace it herself, she hired a pro. And he discovered that the person who mailed the photos to you was…”

Source confirmed. Shane Pryce. “Me,” he whispered.

“Ding ding ding!” She stepped back and spread her arms wide. “You get the grand prize for being the biggest jerk in the world!”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Oh, but how can you be so sure? You can’t remember, can you?”

Bitterness surged inside him. “Okay, fine, I don’t remember. But what motive would I have for doing something like that? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Why do assholes do assholey things? Because they’re assholes.” Debbie put her hands on her hips. “I’m warning you, Shane. Stay away from Ginger. You’ve already done enough.”

“Debbie, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with the photos—”

“It’s not just the stupid photos, okay? You know why she went all the way to South Africa to see you face-to-face? Did you ever wonder?”

As a matter of fact, he hadn’t. But now he realized that maybe… “She said she couldn’t get in touch with me over the phone or email,” he said almost numbly as dread spread in his belly like cancer.

“She had work here. She had to cancel bookings to go see you. What do you think could have been so urgent that she had to go halfway around the world to see you in person?”

“I don’t—”

“She was pregnant!”

He clenched his hands, feeling like the floor under him had suddenly turned into quicksand. Ginger had never said a word about that. Neither had his family. There had been no sign of an infant at her parents’ farm, or in her apartment. “What happened to the baby?” he whispered.

“She lost it on her flight back to the States.” Red rimmed Debbie’s eyes, and she sniffled. “Thankfully the plane landed soon after she started hemorrhaging. They rushed her to the hospital, so she was okay, but was too late for the baby.”

No, no, no. His mind emptied of everything but that one word: no.

“She was in shock, in pain, and she couldn’t call the one person who should’ve been with her. So she called me instead. She didn’t even tell her family because she was so worried about how they’d react. And it goes without saying your family never found out. I pretended like I went to meet her in Amsterdam for a shopping spree.” She breathed out harshly.

Shane doubled over, raising a hand. He couldn’t listen to any more. God, the pain… What the hell had he done?

But Debbie wasn’t finished. “Ginger’s a good person, get it? She’s one of the sweetest and gentlest people out there, always worried about others, and you don’t even begin to appreciate her. You’ve got no idea what you have because you’re so stuck being worried about whatever you think is more important than making her happy. If I were in your shoes, I’d kiss the ground she walks on every day.

“You don’t deserve her,” she said. “You never did, and I can’t believe she’s even given you a second chance. I sure as hell wouldn’t have.”

“Stop,” he croaked. Self-loathing closed around his throat, and he couldn’t breathe. How could he have hurt Ginger like that? What the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped his head as he fell slowly to his knees.

Ginger gave him a coy smile while taking his picture.

“What picture did you take?”

“Your funny face?” she said with an embarrassed giggle.

“Don’t think so.” He reached over and grabbed her camera before she could stop him. It was the best digital camera on the market—his present for her birthday. He viewed the shot. “My lips?”

“You do have lovely lips,” she said primly, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I do, don’t I?” He grinned. “But then so do you.” He leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers.

The shape—the wide, Cupid-bow upper lip sitting over a perfectly curved bottom one. The texture—soft, plump and yielding. Then the taste—sweet fruit and cream with a hint of spice.

He licked the seam between her lips with the tip of his tongue, teasing and coaxing. She opened up with a sigh, then suddenly flicked his tongue with hers playfully. Her mouth curved into a smile as he deepened their contact and wrapped his arms around her. It was a kind of miracle—a simple kiss that made him feel like the king of the world.

Their first kiss…

The stairwell spun, or maybe it was him that was spiraling down. Shane couldn’t tell—darkness filled his vision like spilled ink. Something hard and unyielding pummeled his body, and he welcomed the physical pain. He deserved it. He deserved much worse.

Ginger… Their baby… She should’ve beaten the shit out of him when she’d come to Thailand.

A muffled scream. A small pinprick of light.

Then all black.

Chapter Twenty-One

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Lines. So many damn lines and beeps and machines and people and hands.

The faces were hazy, like they were shrouded in white. There was a pervading smell of bleach.

His head hurt, and his body felt like it had been pummeled with a meat tenderizer. A woman murmured something to the people around him, and stuck a needle into the IV. Soon a pleasant fog spread around him and the pain faded. He tried to figure out what was going on. He’d been at Ginger’s apartment…

Ginger… The baby…

He gasped as the pain twisted in his heart. He clutched at his chest, his hand shaking.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?” a woman cried out. “Is he having a heart attack?”

“No,” came an uncertain voice. “I’ll get the doctor.”

Somebody disappeared, and the people around him rearranged themselves.

“Shane, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?”

He stared at the person. The haze started to clear. “Mom.”

She put a hand over her mouth. Her skin was thin and dull. Deep lines revealed her age, and there was hardly any makeup on her face. “Yes, my baby,” she said, her voice shaky. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Ginger…?”

“Not here,” Dane said, his face expressionless. “What were you doing at her place?”

“Needed…to talk to her.”

“Did she push you down the stairs?” Vanessa had her arms wrapped around herself like she was cold, but there was fire in her eyes.

“What?”

“They found you at the bottom of a stairwell. I don’t know why you’d use the stairs when they have an elevator in the building.”

“I decided to work off some excess energy and use the stairs. Then I slipped.”

“The dispatch said a woman called,” Vanessa insisted.

“A good Samaritan. We should give her a reward.” He made a weak waving motion. “Stop badgering me. I’m tired.”

Vanessa immediately backed down. “I’m sorry.”

Shane looked at the anxious faces of his family—minus Salazar.

Naturally. “What time is it?”

“Around five a.m.,” Mark answered.

“Jeez. Go home and get some rest. I’m fine. Just conked my head. I’ve done it before and survived. I’m sure I’ll survive this time.” He swallowed. He had to get them out of there. Immediately. “Please.”

Dane shrugged. “Let’s go. It’s not like we have the medical expertise to do anything.”

“He has a concussion. He needs us with him,” Vanessa said.

Dane looked at her, then at Shane, then back at her. “What does Barron think about you being out at this hour?”

“Barron? Who cares? Just because he’s Justin’s great uncle doesn’t mean he gets to tell me what to do.”

“And the fact that you’re carrying his heir in your belly right now…”

“Has nothing to do with anything!”

Dane cocked an eyebrow and pulled out his phone. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

“Argh! You are such a jerk!” Vanessa stormed out.

“Everyone, out. Let him rest in peace,” Dane said, herding everyone away from the bed and toward the door.

When he was alone, Shane closed his eyes and placed a hand over them. Everything had come back to him. How he and Ginger had met. All their amazing firsts. And the engagement…

He’d hesitated for so long before proposing. He hadn’t been sure if he could be the kind of man who deserved a woman like Ginger. But he hadn’t been able to give her up either. He’d told himself he could just improve. Become a man worthy of her by making her the happiest woman in the world because there was no way he would ever fall out of love with her.

“I couldn’t love you more if my life depended on it,” he’d told her, opening the ring box.

Instead, he’d hurt her.

Those fucking photos…

Shane tapped his fingers on the table as an expert studied each picture with care. He hadn’t seen anything that hinted that they were fake, but he’d probably missed something. Some people were just that damn good at Photoshop.

“If these were photoshopped, it’s a very good job,” the expert said, scratching his jaw. “I’m not saying they’re one hundred percent authentic either, but…” He pushed all the pictures back across the table. “I’d consider them authentic.”

Shane’s hand tightened into a fist. The man had to be mistaken. Even doctors screwed up now and then. “Thanks for your time,” he said tautly and paid the man. Shane slipped the pictures into his jacket pocket and got up. He’d prove that man wrong. Then come back and tell him so.

A second opinion…then a third…fourth…fifth…sixth…

Everyone said the same thing the first man did: the photos were authentic. And they all added a caveat to cover their asses in case they were wrong—“there’s a small chance…”—but it always came with a but.

But they were authentic.

Well maybe they were. And maybe there were good reasons why she was draped all over those other men. She might have been dizzy at that time. Or tired. Women did that all the time, right?

Ginger had no idea about the photos. Shane considered talking to her about them, just get the whole confrontation out of the way. But he couldn’t. Every time he tried to talk about the matter, his throat would close up. If he showed the photos to her…maybe she’d tell him the same thing all those damned experts had told him—they were real.

He had to leave for a while. Go somewhere far, far away so he could be alone and get some perspective. Staying in L.A. was torture—and he wasn’t as good an actor as his father. He couldn’t put his arms around his fiancée and fake a smile while wondering about the damned pictures.

Tears trickled down from under his hand. He was the biggest fucking failure in the world.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ginger got up at around nine, feeling incredibly well-rested. There was a scent of coffee in the air. She stretched, grinning, and went to the kitchen. “Hey, early bird. Mind if I steal some?”

“Go ahead,” Debbie said from the couch, her voice listless.

Ginger brought her coffee to the living room and sat next to her best friend. Debbie had a blanket wrapped around her, and she was staring into the middle distance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. I know something’s up. Tell me.”

She sighed. “It’s Shane.”

Ginger almost spat out her coffee. Crap. Debbie had been threatening to confront him and beat him up for a while now. “What happened?”

“He came over.”

When she didn’t continue, Ginger said, “When?” Sometimes it required two mules and a wagon hitch to pull information out of Debbie, especially when she was in a funk.

“Last night after you went to sleep.” Debbie sighed again.

Ginger rolled her wrist. “Annnnd?”

“I spoke to him in the stairwell.”

“About what?” she said, when her friend didn’t continue.

“The photos.” Debbie blinked away tears. “Please don’t be mad, but it just infuriated me when he showed up and acted all normal. Like he didn’t destroy you with the things he did. So I set him straight. Told him everything.”

Ginger licked her dry lips. “Including my…” She couldn’t say the word. “The thing that happened in Amsterdam?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god…” Ginger put her hands on her cheeks. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Why shouldn’t he know? It was his baby too, and he should suffer—assuming he’s even capable.”

“There was no point in hurting him, Debbie,” she said. “It’s in the past. What could I accomplish by letting him know now?”

“I wanted him to suffer, too. It’s not fair that you’re the only one who had to deal with the whole thing.”

Ginger hugged her friend, touched by Debbie’s fierce protectiveness. Guilt pricked her heart—she’d burdened her friend with so much.

“Anyway.” Debbie cleared her throat. “I told him. I’m sorry if you didn’t want him to know.”

“Okay, well… How did he react?”

“He, um, sort of sank to his knees and fell over.”

“What? Did he fall down or something?”

“Uh, yeah.” Debbie bit her lower lip. “All the way down the stairs. One full flight.”

“Oh my god.” At least her unit was on the second floor. Shane would be bruised, but he should be all right.

“I totally panicked.” Debbie twisted her hands in front of her.

Debbie talked big and cocky, but she’d grown up in a moneyed, privileged environment. Seeing something like that would’ve been traumatizing. “Are you all right?”

“I’m not the one who fell down the stairs.” Debbie sighed. “There was blood.”

Ginger’s heart stopped. “What?”

“He… I think he hit his head. It was matted with blood by the time I reached him.”

“No!” Ginger jumped to her feet. Her mind blanked except for the image of Shane lying in his own blood. “Do you know which hospital they took him to?”

“Yeah, but Gin—”

“He’s my fiancé.” She threw on a shirt and shorts, then pulled her hair into a ponytail. “I want to make sure he’s okay. You should’ve woken me up.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You were so tired you slept through the siren.”

Ginger shook her head. She’d been suffering from insomnia for the last few days, but that didn’t mean she was okay finding out about Shane just now. “Which hospital?”

Debbie told her. Ginger grabbed her keys and rushed out.

* * *

Shane was in a private wing. Ginger hurried along the antiseptic corridors until Vanessa abruptly stepped in front of her.

“What are you doing here?”

Being in her second trimester hadn’t seemed to slow her down. Shane’s younger sister was immaculately dressed in a sleek black and red dress and a pair of fashionable stilettos—the baby bump barely showing. “I’m here to see Shane, of course.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“Um… I’m sorry?”

“I just find it strange he was injured in your apartment building. He doesn’t have any friends there.”

“He came by to see me, but I was asleep.”

“Oh really?” Vanessa folded her arms. “So how did you find out?”

“A friend told me. She happened to be staying at my place last night.”

“She?” Vanessa arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Ginger clenched her hands. “What are you implying?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I can’t make any sense out of what’s going on between the two of you. What I know for certain is that you hurt him, Ginger. I’ve never seen him like this before. If this is supposed to be true love, why are you causing him this pain?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ginger said. “Please. I need to talk to him.”

“No way.”

A familiar-looking man came into the corridor and put an arm around Vanessa’s stiff shoulder. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going to get some snacks for the junior.” He put a hand on her belly.

Ginger’s eyes widened as it clicked—this was Justin, Vanessa’s husband.

“I was, until I saw her.”

Justin gave Ginger a warm smile. “Shane’s inside, but you might not want to visit for too long. He hasn’t been resting well, and he’s moody and irritable.”

“Thank you.” She dashed past as Vanessa was opening her mouth to protest. She had to see Shane.

* * *

“Why are you so confrontational?” Justin asked, handing Vanessa a cup of low-fat yogurt and a spoon at the hospital cafeteria.

“She just makes me mad.” Vanessa devoured the yogurt. She was starving…again. Even though she was snacking all the time, she hadn’t gained much weight yet. Some of her friends had said she would blow up like a blimp after she had the baby. It was apparently known to happen.

“But she’s Shane’s fiancée. I don’t know if their relationship is something you want to get involved in too much. You remember how mad you were when Barron got heavy-handed?”

“Well…yeah. But this is different. Think about it—nothing about her and Shane adds up! Mom thinks it’s strange too, but she’s too busy with the divorce.” Vanessa had been against it at first, but now she agreed with her mother’s decision. She’d never seen Ceinlys so relaxed. On the other hand, Salazar had turned into a brittle shell of his former self. “If my parents can go their separate ways and be happier for it after decades of marriage, I think Shane and Ginger can do the same thing now, rather than later after the ceremony. I’d hate to see them stay together just out of stubbornness, or because they’re, you know, used to being a couple, not because that’s what they truly want.”

“Shane’s a pretty smart guy. I’m sure he’ll do the right thing.”

“But Ginger?” Vanessa sighed. “I tried to view everything positively. No really, I tried. Stress isn’t good for the baby, right? And I might have been wrong about what we saw back in winter. But to somebody like her, Shane’s a great catch. Rich, handsome, smart—like you said. And the same age, so she can get the money without having to put up with some rich old geezer. I just feel a little cynical.” She pursed her lips. “And now I feel bad for being cynical.”

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re protective of the people you love, and the pregnancy hormones are just making everything seem worse than it is.”

She put her spoon down next to the now empty cup, which Justin tossed into the trash. “I saw Shane cry.”

“When?”

“Last night. I went back because I forgot my phone in his room. I tiptoed in, thinking he was asleep, but he was crying.”

“Did he see you?”

She shook her head. “He had a hand over his eyes. He looked so hurt, I started to tear up too, and left before he noticed me. I didn’t want to injure his pride on top of everything else.” She blinked rapidly.

Justin put a comforting hand on her arm. “Hey, you did the right thing.”

“I just can’t help but think it’s got something to do with Ginger.”

“Listen,” he said. “If she’s really that bad for Shane, then I will personally see to it that she never bothers him again. Would that put your mind at ease?”

Vanessa stood up, ready to go back to Shane’s room. “You’d really do that for me?”

“That’s the least of what I’d do for you.” Rising to his feet, Justin kissed her gently. “Now, can I get you to wear some sensible shoes? Those heels look great, but they also make me nervous with you pregnant and tottering around like that.”

She scoffed. “Tottering? Whatever. I can still outrun you, four months pregnant and in heels.”

He bent and swept her up off the floor, eliciting an eek! He kissed her on the mouth and started carrying her toward Shane’s room. “Go ahead and try.”