One Night Stand (New Yorker III) (13 page)

“Please
don’t ask me how that shirt looks on you. I have a mother and a sister and I
was never good at that game.”

Catalella’s
head shot back as she let out a hearty laugh. This was what she needed.
If it had been Rich, he would have retreated without a word or
walked around her like she was invisible—anything to avoid the ‘do I look fat
in this’ question.

“Come
help me up at least.” Catalella wiggled her fat fingers at him. She’d been
disappointed that morning when she had to take off her engagement ring a day
after getting it because her porky finger was turning blue.

“Where
is papa Rich? I thought he was never going to let you out of his sight?” DJ
asked as he put his hands under Catalella’s armpits and heaved as she pushed up
and onto her feet. DJ grunted then let out a groan.

“What’s
that supposed to mean?” Catalella asked, her eyes slicing through him.

“I was just
wondering where Rich is.”

“No,
the groan…what does the groan mean?”

“Nothing,”
he said nervously. “I hurt my back unloading boxes. I got a new apartment.”

“Oh
really, that’s awesome DJ,” Catalella said with a smile.

“I
thought you said you would be ready to go when I got here?”

“I
tried to be. But I can’t find anything to fit me,” Catalella said, her pouty
lip quivering.

“Don’t
cry…please don’t cry,” DJ muttered as he rubbed her back.

Catalella
didn’t mean to but she felt so emotional. The smallest thing had her in tears.
Yesterday the yogurt bottle wouldn’t open and Rich found her in a crying heap
on the kitchen floor as the nurse looked on with an irritated scowl on her
face. Today it was because nothing she owned fit her—she had even taken up
wearing Rich’s tidy whiteys.

“Why
don’t you wear this?” DJ retrieved a pair of sweat pants from a chair in the
room.

“That’s
Rich’s ‘go’ clothes,” Catalella said. “He’s laid out everything just in case I
go into labor. Look,” she said, pointing around the room. “His car keys are on
the bedside table, plus his wallet, my bag is next to the door and the car is
parked next to the entrance.”

“Was he
ever a scout?”

“He
was. He believes in the ‘be prepared’ motto. But I think he’s scared something
might happen. He wants to be ready to do his part. He knows when the ball
starts rolling he won’t be able to do anything but watch.” Her shoulders
slumped uncharacteristically. “This is what he can do and I let him obsess over
it for a few minutes before going to sleep.”

Catalella
wanted to choke the life out of DJ to get that pitying expression off his face.
And the guilt—the guilt she didn’t understand was starting to get to her. “I’ll
wear something of his.”

Catalella
went back into the closet and walked to Rich’s left side of it. She went
through his shirts, hoping there might be one that could fit her monstrous body.
Once she had changed, she took a look at herself in the mirror. Her hips filled
Rich’s pinstriped black slacks, his black shirt was tucked in and his
pinstriped vest finished the look, holding everything together. Catalella then
pulled back her hair, recruiting DJ to help with the taming of its wildness.
They had managed to hold it back and it didn’t look like it would snap away
from its restraint anytime soon. A little makeup and Catalella was ready for
the office.

“Where
are you going?”

Catalella
frowned when her nurses’ husky voice made her nerves stiffen. “I’m going to
work.”

“No,
you are not.” The nurse marched into Catalella’s room, invading her space. “I
was told to watch you. You need bed rest.”

“I have
been on my ass for four days. I need to get out of here before I lose my mind.”
Catalella groaned. “All right, let’s both calm down.”

“I am
calm,” the nurse shot back.

“Why
don’t you come with me? I bet you’re bored here.”

“Mr.
McCrery doesn’t pay me to entertain myself.”

Catalella’s
teeth gnashed against each other as she groaned inwardly. “I’ll pay you to come
with me. I will be perfectly safe, right, DJ?”

“Right!”
DJ said enthusiastically.

“How
much?”

“How
much for what?”
Catalella asked then answered herself.
“A thousand for you to
let me out of here.”

“Fine,
I’ll get my purse.”

“Whew!”
DJ snorted a laugh. “I have never seen anyone beat you in an argument.”

“She
didn’t beat me. I just wasn’t going to waste my breath arguing with her. I
can’t believe I had to bribe her.”

“You
should fire her,” DJ offered.

“I
would, but Rich would bring someone else. This one is already house-broken and
I couldn’t bear to have to get used to another one.”

* * *
*

Rich
was angry. He was livid to the point that he could feel the blood boil in his
veins as he sat in the back of his car while his driver took him to Ross and
Kent. He had tried calling Catalella again after Darcy had left a message with
his assistant, but she wouldn’t pick up. He knew why—she was afraid that he
would give her a tongue lashing. But she would get one in person, Rich decided as
he made his way to her office after being summoned.

“Where
is she?” he growled at Darcy as he walked out of the elevator and into her
office. He snarled at the nurse he found in there, comfortably reading the new
issue of Cosmopolitan.

“She’s
on her way,” Darcy stammered.

Rich
heard Catalella’s laughter and he turned in the direction from which it came.
He saw her as she walked beside DJ, her arm locked through his as they shared a
joke. But when she looked up at him she froze, and for a second he thought she
was about to turn around and run in the other direction. Rich didn’t exactly
expect Catalella to cower in front of him, but when she seemed to have regained
her courage her beautiful jaw stuck out in disobedience as she marched toward
him with a stubborn stride.

“I will
not be held prisoner in my own home,” she said in defiance.

Rich
smiled. He couldn’t help it. Everything his little minx did seemed to amuse
him. His gaze trailed to her bulging center where his two children grew, and
love and warmth filled his heart. His hand went up and rested on his chest as
he sighed. And then something else caught his eye. His woman’s body was clothed
in his designer shirt, vest and trousers. He gazed at her, curious and amused.

Bringing
her face forward she glared at him. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything? Aren’t
you even going to kiss me?”

“I
should put you over my knee and spank you.”

“Don’t
be ridiculous. I’m too big for that. And I might just enjoy it.” Catalella
winked mischievously at him.

His
lips lifted into a smile as he lowered his lips to hers, biting on her full,
thick,
bottom
lip before pulling it into his mouth.
Rich pulled away then whispered against her lips, “You never have to demand a
kiss, my little orchid.
But I want
you to remember that you are my dearest responsibility and those are my babies
growing inside you. You cannot fault me for trying to protect all of you. My
methods may be extreme, but locking you in the house is all I can do to stop
myself from being useless.”

“You’re
never useless.” Catalella quickly kissed his nose. “All right, I’ll concede to
your methods but I don’t have to like it or you.”

“But
you have to love me.”

“Even
if I don’t say it, you know that I do. I just need—”

“—time.
I know, sweetheart. Let’s go home,” Rich said as he tried to move her toward
the elevator.

“No,
not yet, I have a surprise for you,” Catalella said, casting a cheerful look at
him.

“Where
is this surprise?”

“In
the conference room.”
Catalella took his hand and tugged him along. But, as they got to the
conference room doors, he leaned in next to her ear then asked, “What are you
wearing?”

“Nothing
would fit me. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“You
remember what I told you the first time we made love and you wore my shirt?” He
would never forget that night for the rest of his existence. He and Catalella
had spent the better part of that night in each other’s arms fulfilling their
desires. He remembered when she put on his T-shirt and he said
you look sexy in my shirt.
Rich saw the
color rise in her cheeks and he knew she remembered too.

“You
remember what I promised to be when you signed the contract with Ross and
Kent?”

Rich
chuckled at the memory. “You said you could be my bulldog.”

“You
remember what you told me after you signed the contract?” Rich’s face frowned
with regret. “Look—I fetched for you.”

Rich
walked into the conference room and his heart was a lump in his throat as his
anger ran away with him. He took three massive steps towards Michael Mathews,
but DJ stopped him in his tracks.

“Why
are you here?” he growled.

“It
seems like the Ross girls can’t get enough of me.
First
Lisette, then the little, frail Catalella.”

“There’s
time for that later, Rich,” DJ said in a firm voice.

Rich
took a step back, his shoulders heaving as quick, short breaths escaped his
lips. With a growl he let it be known that he didn’t appreciate Michael Mathews'
presence and neither did he like that Ava’s French perfume was masking his
little orchid’s
scent. Rich moved
back to Catalella and stood protectively by her side.

“You
don’t have to fight over me, Ethan.” Ava’s French voice echoed through the
room.

“DJ,
please open a window,” Catalella said, seemingly out of breath.

“Are
you all right?” Rich ushered Catalella to a chair, worried as she turned green.

* * *
*

Catalella
felt like her head was swimming around in nothingness. A bout of nausea came
over her but she tried her best not to look weak in front of the enemy. She
took the glass of water DJ offered her and soon she was fit to continue.

“Her
perfume is making me nauseous.” Catalella turned to Ava and fixed her with a
hard look. “The sooner you sign this, the sooner you get out, the better our
chances of surviving that biochemical waste you call a scent,” Catalella said
in an authoritative tone.

“Sign
what?” Michael took his seat, a wary eye cast at Rich.

Catalella
wanted to laugh. Michael didn’t look so big and strong with Rich beside her.
For a second she wanted Rich to pummel the idiot to the ground, but when DJ
intervened sensibility returned to her. That would be bad for them. They didn’t
need assault charges to muddle today’s feat.

“You’re
going to sign these annulment papers or my client is going to file a case
against you for bigamy.” Catalella watched as the life drained out of the
porcelain French doll.

“What
are you talking about?” Michael asked worriedly.

Catalella
cast a glance at Rich. She had expected him to be concerned or to want some
more information, but he sat back, his business mask on, and he watched from
the sidelines. Either he trusted her or he was pissed off about the ambush.
Catalella hoped it was the former.

“I’m
sure Duchess Delacroix can explain that. Isn’t that what they called you in
Monte Carlo before you returned to the states?”

“That’s
exactly what they called her, Catalella,” DJ chipped in.

“We
could also call the other two business men you married fraudulently. I’m sure
they would want back the fifty percent of their properties you took away from
them.” Catalella pushed the call button on the conference phone and Darcy
answered. “Have we got Ava’s ex-husbands’ numbers?”

“On
speed dial, Miss Ross.”

“On
speed dial.
Darcy is so efficient,” DJ said in a dramatic tone.

“Too
efficient.”
Catalella turned towards Rich when she heard him try to mask a chuckle with a
cough. Catalella pushed the annulment papers at Ava then shouted, “Sign…now!”

“You
can’t do this,” Michael yelled as shock left his system and rage began to
settle in.

“It’s
my client’s right to be free of this serial bride. This is the thing—she could
stand trial here and go to prison, then have the French government deal with
her when we are done.
Or she could sign these papers and
disappear from our lives,” Catalella summarized.

“DJ,
will you let her do that?” Ava pleaded.

Catalella
shot DJ a questioning glance. She noticed how he shifted nervously in his
chair. Was there something going on between Ava and DJ? Was that the reason he
always looked guilty whenever he was in her or Rich’s presence? What the hell
was going on?