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She hesitated, and for a moment I was terrified she was going to refuse, but then she smiled again and nodded, the sweet blush returning to her cheeks.
One night in a hotel turned into a weekend and I was starting to realize that I would almost surely never have enough of her. Then a cold bucket of reality was thrown at me.
She’d mentioned in passing that she was an artist and I assumed it was a hobby. I casually asked what had brought her to the gallery, too busy focusing on how I wanted to have her next to care about the question.
“I’ve turned in a portfolio and I’m hoping they’ll choose me for their next show,” she chattered excitedly.
I froze as the fog of lust receded, replaced by disappointment and rage. “So, this was an attempt to up your chances? Fuck the owner so he’ll be too enamored with your”—I ran my eyes down her body—“charms to pick anyone else? I’ve got to say, Jade,” I spit her name, “even if you do take your clothes off for a living, I didn’t think you were the kind of girl to sell your body.”
She gasped in fake indignation, but she wasn’t fooling me anymore.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t done that—sold my—how could you think—?” she sputtered. “Wait, you’re the owner?”
I rolled my eyes and got out of bed, starting to dress. “Drop the act, Jade. It’s the St. James Gallery, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way you didn’t know it was my gallery.”
Dressed, I grabbed my keys and wallet and stormed to the door. I couldn’t help glancing back and saw her sitting on the bed, her eyes wide in supposed shock, her mouth forming a little O. For half a heartbeat, I wondered if I was wrong and she was being genuine. But, experience had taught me better, so I walked out and slammed the door shut.
3
Jade
At first glance, it appeared as though Lucas’s full attention was on Mr. Wilkinson while he slit open a sealed envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. But I felt the weight of his scrutiny on me as I sipped on the glass of water I’d been given and popped a piece of gum into my mouth. The hair rose on my arms the same way it had when I felt him looking at me the night we’d met. My gaze darted up quickly, only to find him sending me a sidelong glance before I tilted my head to stare down at my hands. The brief moment of eye contact was enough to send shivers down my spine while I remembered how his eyes darkened with lust until it was virtually impossible to discern the difference between his pupils and the dark brown of his irises. How it felt to dig my nails into the taut skin of his back as he hammered into me.
Crap! I shook my head when the clearing of Mr. Wilkinson’s throat penetrated through the sensual fog that seemed to wrap around me anytime Lucas was near. It was the same effect which had me agreeing to sleep with him within minutes of our first meeting. And it was distracting me from the important matters at hand—finding out what my mom’s husband of one day had left me in his will and finding a stick to pee on at the first opportunity. Finding out if I was pregnant had moved from a niggling doubt in my mind to a screaming alert of urgency. Right after I got the lawyer to repeat what he’d just said while I was shaking off my Lucas induced daze. Because clearly it had been important based on Lucas’s reaction.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he roared. “There’s no way in hell my father was stupid enough to do this.”
“Do what?” I repeated, shifting my attention away from Lucas and back to Mr. Wilkinson. “I’m sorry, could you repeat what you said?”
“Jonathan made arrangements for you to inherit half of his personal estate in the event of his and your mother’s deaths. Had she survived, she would have inherited it in your place. A smaller settlement would have been made upon you, since she would have been alive to provide assistance should you need it. All of his shares in the company will go to Lucas, of course, and the other half of the personal estate as well.”
“He did?” I gasped, feeling stunned by this turn of events. I hadn’t even ever met him. Why had he thought to include me in his will? And why in the world did he think my mom would have helped me if I needed it? I’d been supporting myself while trying to make it as an artist without any help from her, using the money from the life insurance policy my father had left me when he passed away four years ago.
“Don’t sit there, pretending to look innocent,” Lucas growled. “You had to have known what your mom was up to; convincing my dad to change his will like this.”
“It was actually my doing,” Mr. Wilkinson interjected. “Jonathan stopped into my office a couple days before his marriage. He said he wanted to talk to me about the prenuptial agreement he’d asked me to draw up while Di was out dress shopping. He let me know it was no longer necessary, a decision I advised him against, considering the vastness of his estate. He was adamant and I had no choice but to abide by his decision.”
“That doesn’t explain the change in my dad’s will.”
“I asked him if he wanted to make any changes to it with the upcoming nuptials. I didn’t want to run the risk of having assets frozen if Di ever had reason to contest it in probate court, not with the company as part of his estate.”
“And at no point during this visit did it cross your mind to ask him if he’d lost his mind?” Lucas’s question was thick with sarcasm.
Mr. Wilkinson leveled him with a glare. “You and I both know your father was of sound mind and body. If making decisions based on love was grounds to overturn a will, then our legal system would be in serious trouble.”
“He wasn’t thinking with his heart,” Lucas argued. “It was his little head making the decisions for him.”
“You don’t know that,” I snapped, knowing darn well it was entirely possible he was right but not caring in the least. Someone had to defend my mom, as she was no longer able to do it herself.
“Enough,” Mr. Wilkinson grunted. “Let me get through the rest of this and then the two of you can squabble like children without my having to listen to it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest defensively, only to drop them when I noticed Lucas doing the same as we both listened intently.
“Jonathan also made arrangements for any children Lucas might have, with specified amounts for trust funds to be set aside and such.”
“Not like that’s going to happen any time soon.”
My hand drifted to my stomach, the very place where his baby might already rest. I hoped like hell he was right and I was suffering from some strange, lingering illness instead of pregnancy. I’d take just about any kind of sickness as an explanation right about now.
“The final stipulation is that in order to inherit, you’re both expected to reside in the family home for the next year.”
The room was suddenly filled with absolute silence. You literally could have heard a pin drop. I must have heard him wrong.
“My father set his will up so she,” his nose wrinkled in distaste, “and I have no choice but to live together for a year?”
“Yes,” the lawyer confirmed. “He said if anything happened to him and Di, he wanted to be sure you both had family near.”
“She’s not my family,” Lucas growled.
“But she is,” Mr. Wilkinson insisted. “She’s your step-sister.”
“Get out,” Lucas rasped.
I levered up and out of my chair, wanting nothing more than to get away and think.
“Not you,” he hissed, wrapping a hand around my upper arm and holding me in place.
“Are you kicking me out of my own office?” Mr. Wilkinson asked.
