Page 39 of Whispers


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“What?” Had she heard him right?

“Get pregnant.”

Her lips pursed. “I would never—”

“Sure you would,” he cut in, looking suddenly bored. “I overheard your last conversation with him. You’ve got him on the ropes, now finish it.” He hoisted himself onto the rail, back to the ocean, and stared at her. “Don’t tell me you don’t have the guts Kendall, because I don’t believe it. I think you’re a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it.”

She bit her lip and considered. “What—what if there’s no baby.”

“Then make one.”

She’d never thought Weston was an idiot, but he acted as if all she had to do was wave a magic wand and . . . “I can’t just pretend.”

“I didn’t say to pretend. I said make a baby.”

“I think I’ll need Harley for that.”

Weston stared at her as if she were incredibly dense. “Come on, Kendall. Harley’s weak. Everyone knows it. All you’ve got to do is seduce him.”

“Seduce him? Just like that?”

“Trust me, he won’t be able to say no.”

She considered his proposal. It had merit, true, but she didn’t want to take any advice from Weston. He never did anything without a purpose—his own purpose. Eyeing him as she adjusted the umbrella sprouting from an outdoor table, she asked, “Why do you care?”

He glanced over his shoulder to the ocean, as if weighing his answer. “Don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said that I was doing it because I cared about my brother.”

“Nope. Try again. What’s in it for you?”

“Okay. Harley’s a pain in the butt. Now he’s mooning around about Claire Holland, talking about marrying her—”

Kendall gasped, a pain sharp in her heart. Never once had he mentioned marriage to her.

“—and that would be a disaster.”

“For you?”

“Yeah, and the whole damned family. Dad’s so worked up about it, he can hardly concentrate on running the business. Going to give himself a heart attack or a stroke. Paige is upset, and I’ll bet my eyeteeth old Dutch doesn’t like it any better than the rest of us. This whole feud thing will start up again, and it will probably kill Dad.”

His argument didn’t ring true. Weston had never cared about anyone in his family. He’d always been out for number one, and there had never been a number two or three in his life. “There’s more to this, isn’t there? This is personal.”

A muscle worked in Weston’s square jaw. “Harley can’t have a Holland,” he said bluntly.

“Why not?”

His gaze narrowed as it slid back to her. “Because he doesn’t deserve any one of them—even Claire.”

“But he does deserve me?” Had he come here just to insult her?

“Look, I’m offering you a way to get what you want, that’s all.”

“So that Harley doesn’t marry Claire and mess up whatever plans you’ve got.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“What if he won’t be seduced?”

“Get a phony pregnancy test result, marry him, and get pregnant on the wedding night. Figure it out, Kendall, this isn’t exactly brain surgery.”

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