Liar (71 page)

Oh, aaaawkwaaard!

A pin could drop at the neighbors’ place and we’d still hear it, it’s gone that quiet in the room. As introductions and first meetings go, this one hasn’t been so bad.

Of course, it could have been worse, considering the kids’ behavior and my own brand of charm, but I have to give this lady credit: she’s a mine of patience and disdainful sufferance.

What I don’t get is how that bag of rotten ever gestated anything alive, never mind giving birth to Cammy.

But back to the matter at hand.

I peep over at her from beneath my lashes and see the outward flinch she can’t manage to hide before looking down the table at Lucian’s father, Lord Jasper the Disinterested, and I gape.

He’s looking at his wife. No, that can’t be simply described as a look. He’s
fuming
over at his wife, his face having gone so cold and dead I suddenly know where Lucian gets the skill.

This dude is one hundred percent pissed off and all kinds of mad. If I were sour lips, I’d be outta here as fast as my legs could carry me. But this woman…she’s a whole ‘nother breed, apparently, because she just calmly sits there, schooling her features under that molten stare.

And then he stands, coming to his feet—so deceptive, he’d looked, because this dude must be at least six three if not more—and planting his fists into the table.

“Tell me.”

“Well, honestly, I have no idea what the child is saying.”

Lie!

“Listen to me, and listen very carefully, Cynthia. If I find out that this is true, that my son had a child that you hid away or got rid of…if your name is in any way linked with any of this, I will make you regret the day you ever met me. Understood?”

She can do nothing but nod, her thin veneer of disdain cracking beneath one of the worst stares I have ever seen on a human being’s face.

“Lucian, my study. Now.”

I wanna go with, just in case my guy needs help against Mr Coldness, but one look and shake of the head lets me off the hook, leaving me alone with the kiddies, the dragon, and a smiling Cammy and Brody.

Phew. Seems wrong, but right now I’m thinking this chick is most definitely the lesser of two evils.

“Daaamn, Mother, that was one hell of a cracker you just told Pops, huh?” she continues, smiling broadly enough I’m worried her cheeks will rip.

“You little upstart—”

“Oh, good grief, don’t do a nutter. Your face might split if you show too much emotion.”

That gets me chuckling loud enough that Lady Lemons throws me a glare and looks down her snooty nose at me.

“Uh, Cam, lay off the juice till I get the…” I roll my eyes at the kids. “Outta here.”

“Oh goodness, you’re right. Brody darling, do us a solid and take the little dears outside, would you? We have a few things to discuss with mummy dearest.”

Brody, being the irascible darling that he is, corrals the kids before blowing his future mother-in-law an air kiss.

“Good luck. She’s in a damn fine mood today!”

And then it’s just us, all three Jasper woman engaged in a silent showdown.

“You’ve caused more than enough trouble. I want you all out of my home before the end of the day.”

Oh ho! Somehow, now that the lord of the manor knows that the little girl he’d barely paid attention to is his granddaughter, I have a feeling it’s
her
old ass that’ll be hitting the curb.

I hold my tongue only because I’m enjoying her discomfort as we continue staring at her.

“I’ve done nothing—”

“But you have, Mother. I just need to prove it. Which I will. Now be a good dear and give us a clue as to how you found out about the baby in the first place. It’ll make things so much easier.”

“You’ll never prove a thing.”

That snide, totally confident statement is exactly the wrong thing to say. Not because Cammy the Ravager is here and looking like she’s ready to go ten rounds with Ali himself, but because I am now more than confident that this woman has been messing with my guy for years.

That shit just won’t fly.

Instead of ripping her bobble head right off and shoving it down her neck, I go one worse and pick up my phone, keeping my eyes on her as the line rings and then gets picked up.

“We need you.”

It’s all I need to say.

I disconnect with a cold smirk and nod at Cam, giving her the thumbs up.

“Lady, you’re about to be schooled.”

Luc

I have officially entered the Twilight Zone, or the bloody circus. My father, a man who has hardly said two words to me besides a put-down or outright cursing, has turned into a man I don’t recognize.

He’s spent his every waking hour with the children, actually playing with them and taking them out to tour the grounds—water guns and all—and refuses to call Benjamin anything but his ‘little lad’.

I’m flabbergasted, to say the least, since one: the lad isn’t even his grandson by blood, and two: the little bugger is even naughtier now than he ever was.

Just this morning he’d told me, “Gramps said I can have ice cream whenever I want as long as I’m under his roof.” Bloody brilliant.

And I can’t even explain the way the old codger looks at Maddy. It’s as if his every dream has come true since he’d bothered to take a closer look and seen the Jasper eyes on the little mite.

According to him she’s a chip off the old block, something I hadn’t heard from him once the whole time I’d been under his roof.

Like I said, weird.

And then, to top it all off, the place has been overrun by three of the strangest women I have ever encountered.

The Goldens, according to Ashley, are her secret weapon against my dastardly mother. She says that if there’s anything to find about what really happened seven years ago, Viv will find it.

The other two are only here to keep Mother in line, something they’re particularly good at, since Nat is Chicago royalty and knows how to elegantly keep the old bat occupied without ripping her head off.

Now it’s just a waiting game as my father’s people ferret out the truth of what actually happened. If Viv will let them get there before her rabid arse does. The woman, and I say that lightly, because I’m sure she’s a supernatural being, is dogged and ruthless.

To hear her tell it, she’s going to bat for me just because she doesn’t like Ash being upset because I was royally screwed by these bitches who’d stolen my kid.

Her husband, Jack, a man I know well, since we do business together from time to time, has told me to let her at it and just relax. He says his ‘little tornado’ won’t be tamed and that she’d be likely to rip my throat out if I stood in the way of ‘justice’.

Whatever.

Truth be told, now that my father’s come around and I don’t have the luxury of finding the truth myself, I’m more focused on how to get my wife to let me touch her again.

I go to bed hard and wake up in the same condition, thanks to her veto on sex.

Apparently she needs to rebuild the trust before she lets me anywhere near her body. I can honestly say I’ve never been this bloody frustrated before in my entire life.

And this is where I stop everything and take my balls back.

Yes, I just said it. No need to start burning bras or some shit. I’m a man, a man who needs his woman, and the fact that she’s trying to lead me around by the nut sack has gone too far.

I’ve never said I was a nice man, and for some reason, reminding myself that I’ve never lied to her about who I am gives me the notion that what I’m about to do to my pregnant wife is completely within my rights.

***

Ash

“Lucian, what is this? I don’t feel comfortable leaving the kids with your wicked witch roaming the halls,” I huff out, taking in the spectacular penthouse suite in one of London’s most expensive hotels.

Okay, so maybe it is great that we’re finally alone and out of that mausoleum, and maybe I’m doing a lot more than covertly checking him out as he shuffles around the room and starts uncovering room service.

Oh, yum, roast chicken.

“Let’s eat.”

His voice is clipped, short, the same tone he uses with me whenever his patience is at an end. I know this is the case, since he’d all but told me this morning, ‘Ashley, I’m getting tired of this shit’ when I’d woken with his fingers in my cooch and all but screamed bloody murder.

Now we’re all alone, and I get the distinct impression that when he’d said he was loaded for bear, what he was saying was he’s about to screw me into next week.

Good thing for him I’d decided, after his hissy fit and tantrum in the bathroom, that I want him just as badly. I’d planned to seduce him and ride his ass all night, but it seems my guy is back in take-charge mode.

So I sit down and eat, throwing him the occasional glare just to keep things spicy and maintain the illusion that he’s in charge of things.

“I’m done,” I say later, when my stomach can’t possibly handle one more crumb, and he nods, taking my hand to lead me over to the huge bed.

“You need a nap.”

I snort but allow him to tuck me in before going out to the seating area. He probably has some work to catch up on before he lays into me about everything that’s going on and my no sex rule.

I fall asleep smiling, only to wake an hour later with my wrists tied to the bed and my husband leaning over me, a wicked smile on his face.

“Luc?”

This is so not something I’d ever have anticipated because, well, Lucian is one of those guys who doesn’t cotton to using kink and stuff in the bedroom.

His viewpoint states that if we’re passionate enough about each other, sex in its most basic forms should be just as wild as using ‘accessories’ to amp up the heat.

I agree, since I have trouble keeping up with his insatiable ass on a good day—believe me, the man knows what to do with his hands, tongue, and other parts.

Bondage, however, is not something I would have taken a shine to, but it seems—

“Ah, good, you’re awake. Now open your mouth, please, and keep it open.”

I don’t even get a chance to obey before his fingers are pinching around my jaw, opening me for the thrust of his tongue. He consumes me in one lick, attacking my mouth as if he’s starved and feasting for the first time in years instead of a few measly weeks.

My vagina is ecstatic, and tells me so by clenching and letting off a stream of moisture that’s screaming for friction.

How Luc kisses this way has me on the brink with nothing more than his wide open mouth and licking tongue… I don’t even have to participate, which, strangely, is exactly what he demands when I try to suck his tongue deep into my mouth.

“Stay still. I’m eating.”

And boy, golly does he do just that. By the time he’s ready to release my mouth I’m nothing but a puddle of melting goo beneath him. At this point I’m so turned on by nothing more than his mouth touching mine that I’ll do anything he wants if he’ll just do me. Hard.

“Please, Luc,” I whimper, undulating and lifting my hips when he all but rips my clothes off and sits back to take in my body.

I’m only a little over three months pregnant—yeah, I’ve been knocked up since basically our first go round—but my bump is pronounced and bigger than I think it should be.

“I’ve had chocolate cravings lately,” I titter when his eyes go dark and he lays hands on my naked tummy. “And ice cream and cookies. And marshmallows.”

I chortle happily at my own confessions before looking up at him only to stop mid-giggle. His eyes are so hard I can’t help but shiver with trepidation, and his mouth is set in a way I’ve never seen.

“Uh, Luc?”

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are right now? I can’t wait to see you grow bigger with my son,” he growls, bending down to plant a hard kiss beneath my navel.

I swallow loudly and shake my head, not knowing quite what to say to that. I mean, I know my guy’s a possessive ass and that he’s basically obsessed with my body—score for me—but this is a new level of want I see in him, and I can’t rightly say I’m too displeased with it.

“You are, love. You’re bloody gorgeous.”

I wanna tell you the rest of this sex part, really I do, but it seems the long weeks of going without have done something to my man, because after going down on me for an eternity, he really brings his A game and does some seriously nasty shit to me that I can’t talk about. Unless you sign an NDA.

Luc

“Lucian, no! Stop it, Luc!”

Stop it? She wants me to just stand here and not do anything? Is this woman out of her goddamned mind?

“When I’m done with you…!”

I’m so pissed I want to rip into something and keep going till my hands are wrapped around that throat. I want vengeance and blood and every fucking thing I can think of.

“Baby, please! Please just calm down. Pops is gonna take care of it,” she pleads, wrapping her small arms around me and hanging on for dear life.

She’s a smart one, this. She knows that with her and my child hanging onto me I have no choice but to calm down lest I hurt them, something I would rip my own hands off before doing.

But it’s damned close, and every single bastard in this room knows it as I look at that waste of skin and oxygen noisily crying on the sofa.

“You are dead to me. Do you understand me.”

Not a bloody question, but a statement of fact.

The moment Viv had come to me and handed me that folder detailing this woman’s involvement in the stealing of my daughter, I’d been ready to commit an unspeakable act of violence.

If not for the fact that Viv had told Ash before giving me the info, I would already now be throttling the life out of that leech and watching her eyes dim to lifelessness.

What that file had shown was my poor baby being cared for by a crotchety old woman who’d cared less for her than a dog cares for its whelps. She’s that thin because she’d been lucky to be fed by the young woman, Carrie Elms, who’d come in three times a week to clean the old woman’s hovel of a cottage.

According to what Viv had dug up, and what Carrie had said when Viv had finally tracked her down, she’d gone searching through the old lady’s things and eventually found my name and looked me up.

Of course, after seeing my picture she’d been savvy enough to know that the child was mine. Plus she’d heard a few conversations between the old lady and Maddy’s mum—seems the troll hadn’t abandoned the child altogether and still went to see her every fortnight—and surmised that I was a safer bet.

She’d spent all her savings bringing the child to America and then left her to get to me, not wanting to be blamed for what had happened or was going to happen once Maddy reached me.

The long and short is that if not for the actions of one twenty-two-year old woman, who’s poor as a bloody church-mouse, I would have never known my own flesh and blood.

Suffice it to say that I’ve ensured that she is now set up for life, and plan to have her over to visit Mad when everything settles.

For now I have some people to maim and kill, starting with this cyst on humanity’s arse.

“You don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand! That filth sold my daughter to you, and then you threw her at an old woman whose only interest in life is alcohol and living the easy life!” I yell, willing myself to calm down when I see my love flinch and her eyes tear up with fear.

This is a side of me I’d never wanted her to see. The side where I let go of my steely control and ruin everything in my path. I could have still maintained that mask and watched silently as my father ripped her a new one, but that had been before my love had started crying—okay, given that had been from anger—but the end results are still the same.

My love had cried when she’d seen what her daughter had been raised in, and that shit is just not going to fly.

No one makes love cry. No one. And if they do, they’re fucking finished.

“My kid spent the first years of her life being neglected and ignored. I’d like nothing more than to—”

“Lucian. Take your wife and her friends and go have a drink, lad. Let me take care of this,” I hear from the doorway.

“Father—”

“Leave her to me, lad. I know what to do with trash,” he mutters, growling low in his throat.

I turn and look at him and feel a slow, evil smile twitch at my lips. If they thought that she would suffer with me, they don’t understand the things that my father is capable of.

“Edward—”

“Keep your mouth shut, Cynthia.”

When she stops her pleading and crying instantly and stiffens her spine, I know that everything I could have done to this person will pale in comparison to what she will now face, and I bloody revel in it.

Don’t get me wrong: I am in no way mending bridges with the old man, but for the sake of the children I’m willing to ignore that in favor of them feeling loved and wanted by their only grandparent.

Plus, I really just enjoy having an ally as ruthless and heartless as I am. Makes for a better killing when you’re sharing with one of your ilk.

“Ash, love, run along and go have a drink with the girls,” I murmur, kissing her reddened nose as I lead her to the door and nod to Cammy.

“No. Lucian—”

“No, love, Father and I will take care of this. Please. Go.”

I turn back and smile coldly only when she’s stopped fretting and being led away by the bevy of females.

“Now then,” I say sweetly, closing the door with a snick. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what I want to know. And you can stop those tears. I could care less about your histrionics.”

As before, she loses the act and sits staring at us stonily, her disdainful demeanor back in full force.

“She was a little nobody. She would have ruined all of our plans for you once you found out about the baby. I simply did what any mother would do and took care of the problem.”

“Problem?” I snarl, throttling back on the rage coursing through me with an iron will.

“Lucian, you weren’t even out of school yet. You still had university, and your father wanted to take you into the company early… It would have ruined everything—”

“You stole my fucking kid and left her to that piece of shit—”

“Calm down, lad. She’s trying to provoke you.”

I hear what he’s saying and just barely manage not to lunge at her where she sits, trying to explain away her actions as if what’s she’s done means nothing.

I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet I am. Even having known this whole time that she was behind this…the hope that she wasn’t had still been strong enough for me to sit through dinner with this…thing.

Now I just want to hurt her. If they’d let me I’d take a pound of flesh for every year I’d missed with my daughter.

“That excuse doesn’t fly, woman, and you know it. We’re old money. We could have taken care of the child while he did what needed doing. Hell, I’d have taken her myself if I’d known,” he snarls, letting her know how truly angry he really is.

“So we will ask you again, once only, why you saw fit to rob this family of their flesh and blood.”

That’s Father, always calm and to the point. That’s when he’s at his most dangerous, because then you know he’s not just violently angry, but he’s making plans to cut you down.

The bitch finally gets it and starts crying again, her thin shoulders heaving as she covers her face and sobs into her hands.

“I knew that he was getting ready to leave. The little shit had been telling me for weeks. With him gone Camille would have been first to inherit the businesses, and…I knew that if you got a whiff of a grandchild you would never let him go.”

Ah, greed. The stupid arse had been eyeing the business for Cammy, no doubt intending to use the poor girl to get what she wanted, which is and has always been more money and power.

She comes from a long line of aristos, the type that know nothing about hard work and look down at others just because they think their blood is blue.

She must have wanted to die when she’d married a second brother thanks to the marriage contract my grandfather had worked out after my own mother had died on giving birth to me.

“You wanted the money, huh? I don’t give you enough to satisfy your greed?”

“You’re too soft to take this family where it needs to go, Edward! We could be so much farther if you’d just stop feeling sorry for everyone and push the business the way you need to.”

“You mean you’d like me to retrench half the workforce and sell the company so we can live like your freeloading relatives? Sorry, dear, but a Jasper man does not spend his life lounging around while others do the hard work. Fortunately for you, the ghastly sight of your husband going off to do a hard day’s toil will no longer have to be borne.”

The moment her piddly mind grasps his meaning is a bittersweet one for me, and I relish the cry of anguish and bare my teeth at her pleas for mercy.

“Edward, please, you cannot—”

“You have exactly thirty minutes to collect whatever you can carry and get your arse out of my house before I call security to drag you out.”

“Edward, I’m begging you—”

“Your pleas won’t work on me. Now get the fuck out of my house before my grandchildren see your pathetic carcass again. Come, Lucian, we have funds to freeze and accounts to close. The bloody leech has a list of the things as long as my bleeding arm!”

We leave her there, sobbing so dreadfully she doesn’t make a sound, and I feel the tight band of tension in my chest ease. Sure, wringing her bloody neck would have been satisfying, but he’s just given me more in the way of revenge than I could have ever hoped for.

I now get to see the monster I’d spent years fearing and hating slink away defeated and broken, something that is so much more than what I could have dreamed.

“Now then, what say we have a drink and watch her slink away from the library windows? I have a need to watch my burden disappear.”