LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) (28 page)

Shaw

For some reason the thought of knowing everything makes me more nervous than the thought of someone really being in the kitchen with me.

“Okay,” I say after a deep breath to fortify myself.

It takes a while for him to collect his thoughts, and I lie there quietly, waiting patiently, sensing his fear and almost determined need to reveal it all.

“We did not meet and fall in love. You met…you met my brother Robert, over a year ago in a club in New York City. You were celebrating just completing your degree early and being in line for a massive internship. From what you told me, Rob spent the next week courting you before the two of you fell into bed together.”

I try to jerk away, horrified, disbelieving, terrified that what he’s saying is true, but he tightens his hold and soothes me with gentle caresses that somehow manage to quiet my racing heart and stuttered breaths.

“You fell pregnant. Rob was already long gone by then, his usual bloody M.O., and you were ill, without a job or a home…you managed to find us, and you rang Mum and then me.”

“I don’t think I want to know this,” I whisper raggedly, clinging to him as my mind starts whirling.

Ignorance is bliss right? Maybe it would be best not to know any of this. What he’s saying is that—?

“Angelica isn’t yours?” I whimper, near tears.

That sets him off, and I’m on my back, his frame caging me in, his expression so fierce it almost hurts to see it.

“She is! I claimed her as my own the moment I realized I wanted you and no one will ever say differently. Angelica is my daughter, my first child. Ours. Understand?”

I nod and smile tremulously. Yes, I understand. He’s an honorable, possessive man, who will never let another take what is his. That means Angelica and I will always be safe and cared for.

Any wonder I love him?

“Good.” He settles down again and pulls me back into place over his beating heart, taking care to avoid jostling my ankle. “I found you in a shelter for abused women. God, you looked so terrible; I wanted to fucking kill someone. I strong-armed you onto my private jet and brought you here.”

“You wanted me even then?”

He lets out a rueful laugh and pulls my chin up so I see his face.

“I was a right arse even then. I blamed you for what I was feeling and convinced myself you were nothing more than a gold digger intent on shafting my grieving family. No, love, listen before you unman me. But even with that filling my head I could not resist you.”

I snort again and purse my lips, resisting the urge to slap him when he grins.

“We were drawn to each other and eventually, ahem, I fooled you into accepting my ring. My aunt Millie arranged a massive house party to celebrate our engagement, as well as Kent and Molly’s, so we went and…would you believe me if I tell you I realized minutes before you were pushed that I no longer believed the worst of you?”

Another snort, this one more amused than disbelieving.

Leave it to fate to finally cut me some slack minutes before I took a header down stairs and almost croaked
, I think. “So you decided to trick me?”

“No, I…I was as surprised as anyone was that you’d lost your memory, and the doctors were adamant that we should try to let your memory return by itself. They speculated that the shock and the thought of miscarrying must have traumatized you to the point that you retreated from the memory of anything to do with the baby.”

Makes sense, and yet I can’t help but think that it was the shock of seeing the man, the alleged father of my baby, and one who was supposed to be very much dead that had sealed the deal.

“Then why the ruse, Cameron? Why let me believe that we were this magical, loving couple? Do you know what sort of nonsense I made up in my mind to replace what I’d lost? God, I am such a sap.”

“No, Ducky, you are simply a very kindhearted, trusting woman towards whom I have…done wrong. I spent the last months trying to get you to fall for me, and ahem, get you pregnant so that I could keep you should your memory return.”

If I snort anymore I’m going to turn into a freaking pig, but there’s nothing to say to any of this, not if I want to keep hearing the truth.

“Go on.”

He’s squirming and looking very uncomfortable now, as if what he’s revealed isn’t the half of it. God, what more could there be?

“I behaved appallingly when you told me about Rob, and the thing is, I’m not sure I don’t believe you. If what you saw was real and not your mind drumming up a villain, then I need to ensure that you, Angel, and my parents are safe. Dougal and the lads think that the news of our engagement is the reason for your fall, and I have to agree.”

I sit up at this and get comfortable, slinging my injured leg over his torso and facing him.

“That actually makes sense. I’ve been wracking my brain for the last few days, trying to think about why he would push me, and I couldn’t get at a reason. But that makes sense, Cam. What if he
is
alive? No, just hear me out. Can you think of any reason why he’d let everyone think he’s dead and then…”

I turn my head and stare out of the window, taking in the jagged forks of lightning and the rolls of thunder beyond, thinking that it’s so apt to be learning everything on such a tempestuous night.

“Why would a man who is obviously privileged and loved give up his life this way? Unless I really am crazy. Gosh, you know I’ve been so peeved at you I haven’t even considered that you may be right, Cam. Maybe I’m just imagining this.” I finally sigh, feeling my shoulders slump.

“No, baby, I don’t think you are. Dougal and Kent think it’s someone who resembles Rob, so they’re going back over the security tapes and re-questioning Millie’s security. We’ll find out what happened so that we can be at ease.”

I nod, not saying anything because even though I’d vacillated, mostly to ease his mind, I know what I know…and it gives me the creeps. My personal opinion? Dear old Rob must have gotten into hot water and tried to disappear.

Why did he come back and target me? I can’t say, but that bastard tried to kill his own flesh and blood, and for that, I will never forgive him. Nah, for that I will peel him raw when I get my hands on him and get him I will.

“I should be bait.”

“What!”

I squeal and fall back when he vaults to his feet, all semblance or relaxation gone, his face going hard and intense. Good Lord, if he’s reacting this way about one simple suggestion, I hate to think what he’s going to do when I get done.

“Think about it, Cam! If you’re right, and this happened because we got engaged, which we are so talking about later since I’m not having another child out of wedlock! Then it stands to reason that if we announce our wedding and actually get things rolling, we should be able to lure…er…the person.”

He pauses, and I think,
yes, I have him now
. My super logic and altogether too smart brain are genius. So genius he can’t help but see how crazy, sick smart I am.

When he practically dives at me and starts kissing me senseless, I get the impression—fleeting though it is since I can’t think with him all over me—that he’s not so bowled over by my brain but more interested in my body.

An age later, when my lips are puffy and slick and I’m trying to climb into his skin, he pulls back and grins down at me with wicked glee.

“You just proposed to me, Ducky!”

“What! No, I did not. No. Nope. Nahah. I refuse!”

This is so not the story I want to tell my children and grandchildren one day. No way! I can hear it now,
Oh, by the way kids, your father was telling me about what a douche he was and me being the ass I am, I proposed.
Sooo romantic!

Not in this freaking lifetime.

“Yes. Yes, you did! You said—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s tiny ass what you
think
you heard, buddy, but I will not accept this. You will propose in a heartfelt, totally sentimental display of sappy perfection, or I will neuter you while you’re sleeping. I may have lost my memory and part of my mind by falling for your stupid ass, but I will not lose my story because you’re smug. I expect a lot more than this, and I won’t settle.”

That gets me a lot more kissing and some full-body rubbing before he pulls away with a frown.

“You never told me what scared you, baby.”

“Oh, uh.” I blush and twist my lips, a little uncertain about admitting that I’m now a big believer in ghosts. “I heard someone whisper my name. I think your house is haunted, Cam,” I whisper, pushing closer when a renewed shiver of fear trembles through me.

“Ghost?”

“Yup. I heard it calling me, and I swear I did not imagine it. I gave up a chocolate cupcake hauling ass up here.”

That’s how seriously creepy it was.

No more kissing after that, to my utter dismay, but I do fall asleep with a smile, only to wake later to see Cameron locking the doors, the connecting one as well and jamming a chair under the handle.

I guess he’s taking this seriously then.

Good, because I meant what I said. I am going to be bait because I refuse to spend any more time worrying about this.

I have a sick engagement to get ready for and a family to start loving.

Cam

“Do you mean to tell me that Mum got a fake text from Millie?”

I’m about ready to pick myself bald at this point with nothing more than a few well-placed fingers and a frustration that’s killing me. Seems someone lured Mum and Dad away from the house on the pretext of seeing Angelica.

With them out of the house and that bloody maid taking advantage of Shaw’s good nature, my very soon-to-be wife had been left alone and vulnerable.

Because I believe her. Someone had been skulking around, moaning her name to scare her. Chances of her falling the way she’d bolted were high, and that thought just infuriates me even more than anything else does.

If I hadn’t come home and stayed in the city as I’d planned, she would have been on the floor all fucking night!

“Cam—?”

“I need this to stop. Now Griff. You weren’t there; you didn’t see how terrified she was. Can you believe the poor darling thinks the house is haunted by my dead brother?!”

Shaw has been scuttling around, peeking around corners as if she expects something to appear and jump out at her. She won’t even go upstairs alone anymore and waits for me before even venturing forth to the bloody loo.

I will not tolerate this a moment longer. My woman is afraid, and I will slay that dragon come hell or high water. I just need to figure out what the hell is going on first, which is apparently bloody impossible because there are no clues to follow.

I hear a chuckle over the line and roll my eyes when Dougal comes over the speaker in Griff’s place.

“I know, mate, bloody hilarious that. I caught the poor dear burning a bunch of bloody twigs the other day. Told me it was sage and that she’s not barmy, just hedging her bets in case she’s wrong and a ghoul is indeed floating about.”

“Stop laughing, you stupid git! It’s not bloody funny. I’m about at my wits end here. She keeps insisting that the only way to get things sorted, if we’re not dealing with the supernatural”—I roll my eyes at that for the hundredth time—“is if she stands as bait.”

Dead silence to that before someone coughs, and I hear whispering.

“Oh bloody no. I will not allow my pregnant fiancée to get caught up in this.”

“But she already is, Cam. She is at the center of this all, and nothing will happen if we don’t make it happen. I think you should arrange a garden wedding for the weekend. Like you so nicely said, we can kill two birds with one stone. You can finally get married, put Aunt Marge out of her misery, and maybe if we’re lucky, we can catch a ghost,” Griff says, sounding too bloody logical for my liking.

Truth is, I’ve been thinking this very same thing, no matter how much I want to ignore it. I’m a businessman, and I think in the most analytical, straightforward terms. This is possibly the only way around a problem that is now plaguing me.

I’ve told Dad, of course, he’s still the patriarch of our family after all, and now that he’s on board—let’s not say what he said when I brought up Rob. Turns out, Dad has his own opinion of my brother’s actions—and we are now loaded down with security.

All hidden, of course, but in such a way that I know my family’s every move without appearing as if I’m loading my guns for bloody bear. I am of course. Whomever I’m hunting, blood or not, I will no longer tolerate any threat to those I love.

But the bloody idea of having her in the line of fire is killing me.

“Look, mate, we all love Ducky, and now that we know she’s with child again, well, we understand your hesitance, but you need to make a move soon or things will be out of your control.”

Buggering Dougal.
How is it that the family jester has turned out to be the one person who makes more sense than the lot of us put together?
Un-fucking-believable.

“Fine, but I swear to God, if anything happens to her, I will kill everyone in my path. You included.” I warn, pinching at my nose to waylay the headache I feel building there. “I’ll get the arrangements made. Get Kent in on the plans and drop in tonight. Dad wants to be in on the meetings.”

“Righto, mate.”

“Cam?”

“Griff.”

“Congratulations, man. You deserve this, really you do.”

“No, I really don’t, but I will earn them if it is the last thing I ever do on this earth.” I swear, closing my eyes on that vow.

“And I have no doubt that you will. And I’m sorry about all this, cuz. I know it can’t be easy for you to have to consider that your wanker of a brother may not be dead and is still alive and apparently a psycho.”

A bitter laugh escapes my clenched lips, and I grind my teeth in an effort to stem the tide of curses trying to escape the cauldron of rage brewing beneath my surface. I’ve thought about his from every conceivable angle, and still, the only thing I see is Robert’s face the day I caught him with Letitia.

Smug. Satisfied. Cruel.

We’d never really gotten along, not even as small boys. Robert was a spoiled brat, adored for his mischief and golden good looks. At the age of sixteen, he’d been a bloody bully and a snob, not to mention a serial womanizer who didn’t hesitate to seduce many an innocent, no matter the consequence.

I’d seen girls ostracized and humiliated when they’d given him their purity, only to be cast aside and ridiculed. He himself was never cruel, but he never stopped the “friends” he was surrounded with when the blighters would laugh and goad the girls.

I on the other hand always knew my duty. Family. Business. Responsibility. When we’d each received our trust funds on our twenty-first birthdays, I’d paid Dad outright for the sale of the company and sunk the rest into expansion, diversification, and a few very well-placed investments, quadrupling my net worth in less than a year.

Rob, on the other hand, had set out to become a playboy of legends, spreading his wild oats and partying his life away as if that’s all there was to life.

Nothing had slowed him down, not even Mum and Dad’s pleas. Not my threats. Most certainly not when news of his fooling around with my fiancée had hit the gossip pages.

While it had driven a wedge between our already rocky relationship, I would have looked past it for family’s sake. Not Rob, no the bugger had actually laughed and delighted at the scandal, all but rubbing it in my face and crowing that he’d saved me from her avaricious claws and done me a favor.

Was I sad to learn of the accident? Yes. He’s my brother, and I will always love him, but I will never forgive him for what he did to Shaw and Angelica, and if it turns out something sinister is going on and he is or was in any way involved, I will destroy him.

“Cam? You still there, mate?”

“Yeah, Griff, uh, sorry. Thanks, man. And thank you for the help.”

“Always, cuz. We’re brothers in every sense, and I will always be here. Just never to get Letitia out of your hair again. The woman is a freak in bed, and while I like some things, others are just…”

I hear him shudder dramatically and chuckle.

“Understood. You ever need anything else you let me know.”

“Will do, mate. Definitely. About that Bugatti.”

I put the phone down before he can get any further, my lips tipping in a smile. No bloody way is he getting his paws on my baby, deal or no deal.

There are just some things a man can’t do—and that includes letting a Mario Andretti wannabe wreck a car I love more than a good business deal.

“You still busy?”

I look up from my musings to see Shaw peeping around the door, her gaze darting before she smiles and settles on me.

“No, baby. Come in.”

She shuts the door and pounces across the room, landing on my lap with a thud and a glorious smile.

“What brings you this way so close to lunch?”

I ask only because I know that she knows that there will be brownies, and she’s been haunting the kitchen half the morning anticipating them.

“I called Alec, now Cam, calm down. I’m not leaving you or listening to Alec. I needed to put his mind at ease. He wants to come over for a visit. Finally meet his niece. And he is my twin so you can’t say no.”

Bloody he—

“Fine. He should come. He can walk you down the aisle on Saturday.”

Her eyes widen before narrowing so intently I can’t believe she actually sees me anymore.

“Cameron—?”

“Now, Ducky, you said you wanted to be bait.” I point out, stifling a grin when she twitches and finally smiles that smile that tells me she thinks she’s won.

Fat chance that.

“Really? Oh, Cameron! This is so exciting!”

“I think you just blew out my eardrum.”

She leaps to her feet and starts pacing excitedly, her mouth going a mile a minute while I just smirk, not hearing a word she’s chattering so fast. It doesn’t matter anyway since I’m planning this to the last detail, and she won’t have one word of a say in it.

Poor dear thinks she’s got a choice in all this.

“You knoooow, I’ll need a dress. And a carriage. And possibly doves,” she muses, not sparing me a glance. “Ooooh, and there’s this wedding cake that I saw in one of Molly’s magazines. It’s shaped like Big Ben; it was so super-realistic I almost thought it was a photograph of the real thing…”

I tune her out and start planning my play, satisfied when every piece falls seamlessly into place in my mind.

“And I need a chocolate fountain.”

Say what now?

“You realize this will probably end up in a magazine?”

Please let that make a difference
, I think, envisioning the tackiest wedding ever should she not get my meaning.

“Go big or go home, right?”

Oh hell.