He turned the page, nearly ripping it from the magazine, and wondered if Elise knew she was the first person to ever give him the words and mean it. Probably not. As his watch ticked through another minute, a bitter knot lodged in his stomach and he stared at an ad for camping gear, thinking back to the day his mother had lost her temper and explained a couple of hard facts to him—hard facts such as his father divorcing her because Luc was born. And that Luellen Masters blamed Luc for ruining her happiness.
It wasn’t his fault
, Luc thought bitterly. He hadn’t asked to be born. His mother should have bought stock in condoms instead of shoe stores if she hadn’t wanted to have a son.
His mother had her chance—as Luc’s father had explained in the first fifteen minutes of their first meeting. Luellen had loved her husband, but not enough to relinquish her daddy’s money. When push came to shove and Luc’s father had given his ultimatum, Luc’s mother chose the money.
Luc snorted to himself. That still didn’t explain or justify why his father had subscribed to absentee parenting weekly. That unforgivable truth had done more damage to Luc’s sisters than he could ever forgive his father for. Add that to the emotional baggage his mother carried and tried to pass off to her daughters… hell, it was a wonder he and his sisters had any sort of normalcy in their life at all.
Flipping another page in the magazine, he wondered if his mother had forgiven him yet for inviting his father to the wedding. It’d been a calculated risk, but one he knew had to happen. Not for his sake, but his mother’s. She needed closure. To finally open her eyes and look beyond her own bitterness towards her past mistakes and accept the truth. Then maybe she’d practice some ‘live and learn’ philosophy, get over it, and stop letting her fears of repeating the past from poisoning his sisters’ outlook on life.
The burden of keeping the dream alive for his sisters was heavy enough without having to continually fight his mother’s demons. But the battle would be waged. Not for him, but for Lucy, Cindi, and Eleanor. It was—as his grandfather continually reminded and occasionally used to blackmail him—Luc’s duty to see to his sisters’ health, welfare, and happiness. Something that unfortunately included preventing them from running from every man who dared tempt their fragile romantic hearts with a perfectly good happily ever after.
Just the thought of that daunting task was enough to make him put alcoholism on his daily to do list. Which reminded him. He was overdue for a call in to Eleanor to find out how Lucy and Cindi were handling the subconscious grenade he’d lobbed at them with during the wedding. Luc smirked to himself. Knowing the two groomsmen he’s convinced to give Lucy and Cindi another chance—Rafe Winters and Michael Brand—he fully expected there to be another round of weddings in the Masters clan by the year’s end.
Which left him with only one more sister to deal with. Eleanor and the target of her obsession, Ben. Hell, thinking back on all the misery he’d endured watching Ben and Eleanor dance their way through skirmish after skirmish only to end up alone should be enough to make Luc hate his mother for her irrational need to make sure her daughters didn’t repeat her mistakes.
But he couldn’t hate her. She was his mother. He was alive because of her. She’d given him life and in a bizarre way… a purpose for his life. Granted, she’d hugged him a total of twelve times in his life and he’d never quite understood why in her opinion he was to blame for something he’d had no control over. And God knew he’d spent plenty of time going out of his way to make her so proud of him that she would say the words or give him some affection, but… for crying out loud, he was thirty years old and she still hadn’t told him.
But Elise had. Repeatedly. And with much vigor.
Luc closed the magazine and tossed it on the table to his right, then leaned his head back and, closing his eyes, faced the truth. All he had to do was think of his sweet wife and the weight of duty to his sisters faded into oblivion.
No doubt about it. He’d made the right choice marrying Elise. She meant more to him than he could fathom. If he had his way, he’d keep his wife behind closed doors and naked all day, every day, for the rest of their lives. He was addicted to everything about her—smile, laugh, touch, taste. He stifled a groan and adjusted his shrinking trousers. He wanted her again. He always wanted her. No wonder there was a good chance she might be pregnant. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. He’d never experienced—in his entire life—the kind of obsession he felt for his wife. It was like he was afraid to let her out of his sight or reach for fear that she might disappear or leave him.
He couldn’t lose her. She was everything to him. She was the light to his days and nights. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her and—
“Luc?”
He opened his eyes and Elise stood in front of him, her hands clasped in front of her. She glowed with happiness, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. One glimpse at her smile of pure joy and he knew.
Holy hell, I’m gonna be a daddy.
Right on the heels of that whopper came the answer to why he’d fought like hell against telling her everything in his grandfather’s ultimatum.
Holy hell, I’m in love with my wife. And I’m gonna be a daddy.
That was promptly followed by another more sobering thought.
Holy hell, I need to tell her about the broodmare clause.
And how the hell was he going to accomplish that feat such that it wouldn’t drive a wedge between them, cause her to doubt his feelings for her, and make her regret
ever
deeming his sorry ass worthy?
Later that afternoon and still struggling to answer the question burning a hole through his conscience, Luc sat across from Ben in a conference room.
He’d spent the last hour listening and watching Ben debate the pros and cons on sealing the deal to stroke a check for the company. He understood Ben’s conflicted stance. Better than he suspected his best friend did.
On one hand… if Ben bought the company, then he’d be forced to move to Texas and away from Eleanor’s sphere of torture. For a couple of years at the least.
If he didn’t buy the company, then he’d miss out on the rare opportunity to snatch up the perfect vehicle that’d propel Ben straight to the top of the Forbes list.
Luc leaned back in his chair and wondered if he should tell Ben about Eleanor’s desire to get a job. Oh yeah, he fully admitted that he’d been too shocked stupid at the time she’d asked to question his twin’s motives. But he got it now.
Eleanor wasn’t about to let Ben escape her sphere of torture and she’d do whatever was necessary—including getting a job—to make it happen.
Which meant that—to help his best friend and sister—Luc needed to dig deep into his bag of tricks to find a solution that’d work for all interested parties. Something that—courtesy of Elise and her oh-so-efficient ways and means—Luc didn’t have to dig very far to find.
The solution was simple, wholly unethical, and would require Ben’s full cooperation.
Luc nodded at the amended purchase contract sitting between them on the table. “All the money is accounted for, but I don’t recommend buying.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Ben said. “I need those designs.”
“Then negotiate for the designs and forget the company.”
“Tried that before we came down here. Bingley wouldn’t go for it. He’s got the rights to the prototypes locked up in iron tight contracts. If I don’t buy the company lock-stock-and-barrel, then I’ll lose my shot at the defense contracts lined up at Raine Corp.”
Luc acknowledged Ben’s words with a nod. “True, but that was
before
you found incriminating pictures of Bingley and his secretary.”
“Before I… well, I’ll be damned. Brother Luc, are you suggesting that I blackmail Bingley to get what I want without having to buy the whole company?” When Luc just smiled, Ben drummed his fingers on the table and started thinking. From where he sat, Luc could smell smoke from the wheels churning in his best friend’s devious mind. “That would be evil.” A pause and then Ben grinned. “But I’m so gonna do it.”
“Good, because it’s a damn sight nicer than what I crave to do to those bastards for having harassed my wife while we’ve been here.”
Ben muttered a
True that
under his breath, then asked, “Speaking of your wife… have you told her, yet?”
Luc was about to answer when his mind—already entrenched in unethical evil business mode—laid out a wholly unethical and evil strategy to achieve his goal. One that—he did a quick calculation—had more than a prayer’s chance in hell of killing two birds with one stone. Of course it’d require him to play his best friend like a fine fiddle, but… aw, what the hell. All’s fair in love and whatnot. “No and I’m not going to.”
“Luc, I love ya like a brother, but you’re an idiot. Man up and tell her already.”
“Let it go, Ben.”
“No can do. I’m morally obligated to prevent you from making the biggest mistake of your life. It’s the unspoken creed of the bro-code.”
Luc sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “The bro-code also says not to covet thy best friend’s wife.”
Ben shrugged. “What can I say? I’m weak and have a thing for fairy tale princesses. Now, back to you telling Elise about the brood mare clause.”
“I’m not telling her.”
“Wrong. You have to tell her.”
“Give me one good reason why I should,” Luc said.
“Because it’d be better for her to hear from you than someone else. And trust me, after having watched more than my fair share of chick flicks with the ladies, if you don’t tell her, she
will
hear it from someone else. They always do. Then she’ll leave you.”
Both of them knew exactly who that someone would be. His grandfather and the old man’s desire to make sure Luc’s bride was in it for more than the money. Given that, maybe it was time to stop thinking of it as a broodmare condition, but instead as an anti-gold digger clause. Something that Elise would never be—recognizing that left Luc feeling more comfortable telling Ben, “She won’t leave me.”
Ben gave him a pitying look. “She will. It’s the way of the chick flick.”
“Care to place a bet on that?”
“On her leaving you?”
Luc nodded.
“You’ll lose,” Ben told him in a certain voice.
Not likely given how well Luc knew his wife. “Name your terms.”
Ben tapped his pen against the table. “If I’m right, then Elise comes to work for me as my personal assistant and you pay her salary.”
Luc paused more for effect than anything else. As he counted to ten, he wondered how long it would take Ben to figure out he’d been played. Because he didn’t doubt for a minute that after the shock of what Luc was about to say wore off that Ben would figure it out. And hopefully before Ben did the one thing that Luc knew he didn’t want to do. Hurt Elise and ruin Luc’s chance at a real future. “And if I’m right, I keep Elise and you have to hire Eleanor as your
personal
assistant. For a minimum of twelve months.”
Ben stared at Luc and wondered if he’d lost his frickin’ mind. Did he have any idea what would happen if he hired Eleanor as his
personal
assistant. For twelve months. Good God, not even a blind, deaf saint who’d lost his sense of touch and smell could withstand that sort of torture.
No, he couldn’t do it. Well, he could, but… he damn sure shouldn’t knowing how Luc was about his sisters. And if Eleanor wound up being Ben’s
personal
assistant, then there’d be hell to pay considering Luc and his tendency to be an overprotective growly bear of a brother who threatened death and dismemberment to anyone who dared defile his precious sisters. And if Ben had to spend twelve months with Eleanor, there’d definitely be some de-filing activities on her list of job duties. Especially if Ben suddenly had unspoken permission to indulge in a few explicitly detailed fantasies that’d been plaguing his sorry ass since Eleanor had caught him staring at her entirely too curvaceous body ensconced in a skimpy bikini during that summer of adolescent hell.
Hell
? Yeah right, the summer of wood was more like it.