SOAR (The Indigo Lounge Series Book 4) (4 page)

Her
face crumpled.

His
eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about starting with the fake water works. You
created this fucking circus all on your own. For the sake of the child you’re
supposedly carrying, I’m not going to toss you out. You can use this condo
until I verify your lies. But your presence here has tainted this place for me.
So congratulations, you got yourself a roof over your head after all.”

“You
really hate me, don’t you?” she asked, her voice curiously hushed.

 
Noah noticed her trembling hand when she
set the glass down. Needing to hammer home his point, he looked into her eyes,
to make sure she didn’t mistake his next words. “Yes. I really do.” Jerking his
chin at the half-empty bottle of water, he sent her a grim smile. “Now drink
up.”

 

***

 

 
An hour later, Noah dumped his overnight
and laptop cases in the suite one floor above his office. He’d only needed the
essentials from his condo.

Crossing
to the well-stocked bar, he poured himself a shot of whiskey. He downed it in
one go, welcoming the temporary warmth that burned its way into his gut.

The
glass tumbled from his fingers onto the counter and rolled to a stop.

He
was going to be a father…

Despite
knowing in his gut that Ashley was telling the truth, a part of him had held
out the belief that it was all one huge fucking joke. But five tests - done in
his presence because he didn’t trust Ashley one iota - had made reality
impossible to dismiss.

He
was going to be a father.

He
clamped shaky fingers in his hair and paced the living room. Walking past the
bar, he considered having another drink. But he needed to remain sharp, or as
sharp as he could be, considering the punch to his system every time the word
father
rolled through his brain.

Turning
away from the temptation to drown himself in alcohol, he went down to his
office. At his desk, he dialed the private number.

After
a few minutes, an incredulous laugh echoed down the line. “Ah, I know you’re
not into practical jokes but I have to ask if you’re serious. Did you just
say—?”

“Yes,
I did. Trust me, Sam. I wish I were joking.”

Sam
Ferranti, his attorney and a partner at one of the most prestigious law firms
in Miami, cleared his throat. “I have to look up case law on this, Noah. If
you’d been married and then divorced, it wouldn’t have been clear-cut, but it
would’ve been easier because there’s precedent. This is slightly more uncharted
territory.”

“Then
here’s your chance to make history. But make it quickly.”

“I
understand,” Sam responded immediately. The bone-deep bewilderment and anger in
Noah’s voice had clearly transmitted, “I’m assuming she would’ve needed you to
accompany her to the clinic in order to get the embryos,” Sam continued. “Since
you didn’t, do you know how she acquired the embryos on her own?”

Noah’s
skin crawled at the memory of Ashley’s answer when he’d asked the same
question. “She talked her twin brother into posing as me.” The scale of
Ashley’s duplicity chilled Noah’s blood.

“Will
her brother testify to this?” Sam asked.

“He
died of cancer two months ago.”

“Christ.
Okay, send me everything you have, including the name of the clinic and doctor
who took your samples. I’ll drop everything and work on it. You’ll hear from me
as soon as I have something.” He paused. “I just need to ask…how hard do you
want to go on this considering she’s already pregnant?”

It
was a question Noah had been avoiding since Ashley had walked out of his
bathroom with five blue lines on five sticks sealing his fate. A couple of
hours later, he still didn’t have an answer.

“Go
do your research, Sam. Give me all the options and I’ll take it from there.”

“And
I assume you’re going to have a pre-natal DNA test done, just to be sure the
baby’s yours?”

Noah
exhaled. “Yes,” he said.

“Good.
If you need the name of a clinic, just let me know.”

“Yeah,
sure. Thanks, Sam.”

Noah
tossed his phone onto his desk and scrubbed a hand down his face. A million
questions crowded his mind, none of them taking enough shape to demand an
answer.

When
he heard a noise outside his door, he sprang up, for one intensely hot second
hoping it was Leia. The ridiculous idea dissolved in the next moment. Even if
she knew where his office was, why the hell would she seek him out mere hours
after making it abundantly clear they were over?

His
gut clenched in disappointment when Maddie knocked and popped her head around
the door.

“The
movers will be done packing your things from the condo in the next hour.”

He
nodded. “Thanks, Maddie.” After delivering the pregnancy test kits, she’d
offered to sort out removing his stuff. He knew she was desperate to make up
for being tricked by Ashley into telling her Noah’s whereabouts a few days
before. He’d welcomed the chance to remove himself from Ashley’s presence,
ignoring her pleas for him to stay.

“You
also have an email from Mr. Hartford with some property details. I’ll print
them out and make up a file for you.” She left after he declined her offer of
coffee.

He
fired up his computer. Since he was here, he might as well get some work done.
Ten minutes later, his cursor was still blinking in anticipation of his
password.

The
stone, which had lodged itself in his gut when Leia walked away from him, had
eased a little. Enough for him to see he’d been slightly irrational about the
whole thing. She needed time. He was prepared to give her time. Not long,
because the idea of not seeing her again
soon
drove him more than a
little nuts. But fuck if he was letting her walk away. He needed her more than
he needed to breathe. It was as simple as that. The rest would work itself out.

He
was about to reach for his phone to call her, when his cell buzzed to life.

He
stared at the number on the screen and cursed. “Hey,” he answered.

“Just
about to have my third drink. Thought I better check in before I got too
hammered to remember your phone number. I can keep going if you’re running
late?” his PI drawled. From past experience, Noah knew the guy would remain
sharp even after several neat bourbons.

“Listen,
something’s come up. Can we reschedule?”

“Sure,
it’s your dime. But I thought you’d want to know what I found out sooner rather
than later.”

Noah’s
temple throbbed as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. “What did you find?”

“Your
girl wasn’t his first victim. Also someone dedicated a lot of time and money to
cover it up.”

Noah
stumbled to his feet, his instincts screaming at him. He didn’t bother to tell
him to elaborate because his PI was paranoid about revealing too much over the
phone. “Stay put. I’m on my way.”

 
 
 
 
 

FOUR

 
 

“I’ve
made reservations at
Pietro’s
for eight this evening.”

Leia
didn’t want to pull herself out of the fog surrounding her. The fog numbed her.
Made her not have to think about the next second, the next minute. Thinking
meant remembering. Remembering brought sharp, blistering pain to her chest. Fog
was good. She snuggled in deeper.

“Leia.”

That
tone again. The one that made her feel like a disobedient subordinate. One he
owned through and through and enjoyed controlling.

Snyder
looks at you like you’re his private possession.

Leia
froze, Noah’s words clanging through her head. She’d rejected the observation
at the time. Now, it imbedded in her consciousness, and she couldn’t dismiss
the remark. She shivered, despite the sun blazing down on the lounger she’d
spread out on in her private solarium, the farthest point from Warren’s wing of
the mansion. Had someone ramped up the air-conditioning?

She
grabbed the remote, lowered the jazz funk she’d been using to drown out her
thoughts and faced Warren. Even though it was the weekend, he was dressed in
his customary
Savile
Row suit, complete with waistcoat,
pinstriped tie, cufflinks and polished brogues. His hair was combed neatly
enough to pass a military dress code test. She looked away and inwardly
grimaced at the calm perfection she’d once aspired to.

“I’d
rather not go out tonight, Warren.”

He
took another step forward and she caught a hint of his expensive cologne. It
was chilling and impersonal, nowhere near Noah’s potent, intoxicating scent.

Noah…

God,
it hurt just thinking his name.

“We
don’t always get to choose life’s experiences. I’m hoping the idea of dinner
with me isn’t one of the less pleasant ones? Especially as it’s at your
favorite restaurant?”

She
turned the music off. “Is this some sort of life lesson?”

“If
you want it to be.” He strolled forward in that controlled, calculated way of his
and paused at the foot of the lounger.

Slowly,
his gaze raked over her, and she shivered again. She still wore Noah’s college
T-shirt but had changed into a pair of dark blue leggings after a hundred-lap
swim this morning. She saw Warren’s eyes linger on the Vassar logo before they
rose to hers.

“If
it’s any consolation, I think you made the right decision, my dear. Now you
need to move on quickly. Excise the wound before the infection sets in.” His
eyes dropped back to the logo. When she realized they lingered on her breasts,
she folded her arms.

“Why
did you come to Noah’s place with
her
?”

The
question had swirled through her mind since yesterday. Once they’d arrived
home, all she’d wanted to do was retreat to a dark corner, away from the
harrowing reality of what she’d done. Despite knowing she was only prolonging
the agony, she’d slept in Noah’s shirt. She was nowhere near ready to let it go
yet.

But
in the clear light of day she had questions. Ones she couldn’t shy away from
any longer. “Did you know who she was before the airport yesterday?”

“No.
She came to see me yesterday morning. When I became aware of the brevity of
Miss Maitland’s news, I concluded that you shouldn’t be left to face it on your
own. I came because you needed my protection.”

“You
mean you didn’t trust me to deal with this my own way.”

“You
dealt with it your way. I just wanted to make sure you were presented with the
unsullied facts.”

“Well,
you certainly did that.”

His
eyes gleamed. “You know sarcasm isn’t a trait I admire, my dear. It’s a poor defense
mechanism used by the uncouth. If you want me to think you’re in control of
your emotions, do better.”

“Maybe
I’ve discovered that giving my emotions free reign isn’t a bad thing after all.
Did you stop to think about that?”

“Of
course. I factored that in, which is why I gave you twenty-four hours
to…wallow. But you need to get yourself together. We have another board meeting
early tomorrow. And the unresolved subject of your stepfather still requires
our attention. Had you returned home on Friday night, we would have made progress.”
Again that chiding tone but coupled with something else.
A hint
of possessiveness.
Recognizable now because it was amplified a thousand
times with a single glance or word when it came from Noah.

This
time her shiver engulfed her whole body. “I haven’t forgotten what’s at stake.”

“Good.”
He tugged at the expertly pressed cloth of his trousers and sat down beside
her. “Besides the…emotional aspects of all this, I wanted to remind you of your
corporate responsibility. Nothing can jeopardize what we’ve spent years
building, Leia. We’re so close. It would be a shame to do something foolish and
risk everything.” He gave a single shake of his head. The move was so alien to
the Warren she knew that her sharp reply froze in her throat. “I’m beginning to
think I shouldn’t have allowed you to go on this trip.”

She
jerked away from him. “
Allowed
me? I’m twenty-three years old, Warren.”

He
barely blinked at her outburst. “But in some aspects you’re still a child, a
novice at certain things.”

“You
really believe that, don’t you? Or do you just want me to remain a child?
Frozen and helpless at seventeen?”

A
look curled through his eyes, but his eyelids descended, shielding it from
view. A chill whispered over her. She whipped her legs off the lounger and
turned sideways.

“I
would never wish you helpless.” There was a thread of hurt in his voice that
made her feel bad. But it wasn’t enough to wash away the anger at what his
description of her made her feel.

“Then
don’t treat me like a child. I’m no longer the broken person you brought home
five years ago.”

 
Warren turned toward her, his spine
straight and his face somber. “I couldn’t be more proud of the progress we’ve
made if I tried. But I wish
you
to not lose sight of that.”

“I
won’t.”

“So
will you accompany me to dinner?
Pietro
is holding
our usual table.”

 
Leia wanted to refuse. But she didn’t want
to give Warren the satisfaction of thinking she would be spending another
evening wallowing. And if she didn’t go out, she knew she would do exactly
that. Besides, the idea of not having to think about Noah constantly as she had
been the last twenty-four
hours,
was a welcome
thought.

 
Left on her own, she would wonder if
Ashley had managed to talk her way back into his life. If they were, even now,
considering names for their child. Another arrow pierced her heart. Over and
over that look on Noah’s face, when Ashley made her announcement, flashed into
her mind.

He
may not have planned it, but the idea of a child meant something to him. It was
that look on his face, which had gutted her most of all.

He’d
been ripped away from her before she’d had time to absorb the fact that she’d
fallen in love with him. Drowning in tears in the middle of the night, she’d
consoled herself by thinking what she’d done was for the best. She’d never have
to face the tough discussion of whether he wanted a family at some distant
point in the future. It was better this way. The burn might be too much to bear
right now, but eventually she would forget him.

She
had to.

“Yes,
I’ll come to dinner,” she replied to Warren.

“Good.”
About to rise, he paused, leaned in close and pressed his lips against her
temple. Again, his chilling scent engulfed her.

Long
after he’d left the solarium, she sat, wishing the scent
was
a different one.

And contemplating the possibility that it was time to move
out of Warren’s house.

 

***

 

“If
we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for our reservation.”

“I’ll
be right there.” She slid her platform heels on and glanced at herself one last
time in the hallway mirror. She would need to decide soon whether to shave that
patch of hair again or let it grow. She resisted the urge to caress that part
of her head the way Noah did, and faced Warren. “I can’t find my phone. Have
you seen it?”

Warren
glanced at his watch. “I haven’t. If you need to make a call you can use mine.”

She
refrained from telling him that wasn’t the point and smoothed a hand over her
forest green sleeveless dress.

Her
firm resolve had wobbled many times before she got dressed. As she stood in the
shower, indulging in another crying jag,
wallowing
had seemed a far
better alternative to making meaningless conversation with Warren just to prove
a point. But she knew her former guardian wouldn’t let her off that easily.

 
In the car, he shrewdly engaged in
conversation that would demand more of an effort than monosyllabic answers from
her.

All
the same, by the time they pulled up to the restaurant in West Palm Beach, she
was a heartbeat away from instructing the driver to take her back home. She
gritted her teeth and stepped out of the car. The urge to prove she was strong
enough not to fall apart from a relationship that had lasted less than a week,
battled with the need to bawl her eyes out. Strength won. Her sole aim for
indulging in the IL trip had been to have a no-strings-attached fling. She’d
fucked that up spectacularly of course, had fallen in love before they’d barely
exchanged more than a few pertinent details about each other.

But
that didn’t mean her life was over.

She
sucked in a breath and let Warren walk her into the Michelin-star restaurant.

Pietro’s
greeting was loud and effusive. Discretion had never been the portly Italian’s
strong point, but the food here was great enough to make his customers overlook
his boisterous mannerisms.

“A
bottle of your favorite Grand Cru to start the evening off,
bellissima
?”
Pietro
asked, once
they were seated
by the window
.

Leia
started to shake her head and changed her mind. Getting drunk might be one way
to numb the relentless pain. “Sure. Red, please.”

She
ignored Warren’s microscopic frown.


Va
bene
.
And for you, Mr. Snyder?
Your usual sparkling water?”
Pietro
enquired with a slightly more restrained smile.

Warren
nodded and the Italian left them, returning moments later with their drinks.
She took a healthy sip and saw another frown
cross Warren
’s
face.

“I
really wish you wouldn’t drink, my dear.”

“I
really wish you would. Maybe then you’d get off my case every once in a while,”
she snapped before she could stop herself. Not that she wanted to. “Look,
you’ve done your concerned guardian thing. Just…let me deal with what’s
happening to me in my own way, okay?”

“Drinking
is not the answer. Need I remind you of how indulging in alcohol changed your
life?”

The
stem of the wineglass she’d been slowly twirling trembled and a drop splashed
onto the white linen tablecloth. Before she could stop them, tears sprang into
her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Angrily, she wiped them away. “Tough
love, Warren? Is that what this is supposed to be?”

“I
will not watch you regress into destructive behavior because of him.” For the
first time in her life she saw animated emotion in Warren’s eyes. Emotion that looked
very much
like
anger.

The
shock of it held her speechless for several seconds.


Him
?”
her voice trembled. She clenched her fist on the table. “You can say his name,
Warren. And
Noah
isn’t the reason I’m drinking,” she half-lied and
drained half her glass in one hefty gulp.

Warren
remained silent for several minutes, his disquieting gaze resting on her.
“Forgive me, my dear. It temporarily slipped my mind that there is another
subject in this whole misjudged situation that must be painful for—

“I
don’t want to talk about that. And the situation wasn’t misjudged. I entered it
with my eyes wide open. I don’t regret anything.” The hell she was suffering
now might be unbearable, but the four days she’d spent with Noah had been the
best of her life.

Warren
was stopped from replying when the headwaiter approached. Leia chose a random
dish that she had no intention of eating and drank more wine.

Warren
turned the conversation to business, and she participated enough to keep him
from sending her those narrow-eyed looks. They were at the coffee stage, or
rather Warren was, while she finished the bottle, when his phone vibrated.
Knowing he was about to ignore it because he never answered his phone at the
table, she waved him away. “Answer it. There’s hardly anyone left in here. And
I’m heading to the ladies’ room.”

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