The Tycoon's Socialite Bride (Entangled Indulgence) (15 page)

“That’s why you want to buy it, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. The moment it’s mine, when he can’t get it back? That moment will be for my mom.”

“What are you going to do with it after it’s yours?”

“Tear it down. Burn it. Who the hell knows? Whatever I do, it won’t be the Holcombe anymore.”

She finally had the missing piece of the puzzle. It explained a lot about him.

“I’m pretty sure your mom never expected you to do this for her. No matter what she went through with Holcombe, she would want you to be happy, to go on with your life.”

“I
promised
her. It’s what has motivated me all these years. Everything I’ve done—the schools I attended, the business I’ve gone into—has been chosen with care, to get me to this point. I can’t stop now.” He smoothed the hair from her face and stared into her eyes. “I just didn’t count on meeting you.”

She blinked, surprised by the reveal of emotion.

“I know how our marriage started, but it’s more than that now. At least for me. Who knows what will happen or how much time we’ll have together. But I want to be with you. Can we see where this goes? It doesn’t have to end.”

She buried her face in his chest, tears falling from her eyes. It was what she’d wanted to hear.

Almost.

He wasn’t promising her forever, but he cared about her. He’d told her about his mother and David Holcombe. It hadn’t been easy for him to go digging through his past. He’d done it so she would understand why the Holcombe was important to him and why he needed to protect her.

He cared about her.

It was enough.

For now.

Chapter Fifteen

Marcus looked up as Pamela entered his office, radiant in tan shorts that showed off miles of legs and a black-and-tan lacy top. His heart hammered in his chest and he smiled, laying his iPad down and standing up to meet her.

She walked straight into his arms and they kissed. He loved that she did it automatically, without thinking about it. When she pulled away, he hauled her back and deepened the kiss, not ready for the embrace to end. Laughing, she rubbed her nose against his and gave him a quick kiss before pushing him away.

“I got here as soon as I could. What’s going on? Is it the Holcombe?”

His pleasure diminished slightly by what he knew would happen next.

“The company received a letter today from the Rising Heights Neighborhood Association.”

“Who?”

“According to the letter, they’re a recently formed neighborhood association.”

She played with the solitaire diamond on the necklace she wore. “What do they want?”

“To close the shelter.”

She turned away from him and placed her palms on his desk, her shoulders drooping.

Her distress was tangible and he wanted to comfort her any way he could. Fitting his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs massaged small circles on either side of her spine. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” The words burst from her and she shrugged him off. “We finally get a deal with you and a handle on the lease situation and now this? Why?”

He handed her the letter. “They reference the incident last Monday at the shelter, when you got hurt. They say the shelter is a danger to the neighborhood and needs to be shut down.”

“The shelter was there first. Back when this area was just group homes and low-income housing.”

“There’s more.”

He grabbed his iPad and called up the website.

“They have a Facebook page?”

The association’s recent status update claimed that the shelter’s negligence had led to the injuring of Pamela Harrington, a prominent DC citizen and the daughter of Senator Warren Harrington.

“They’re claiming more innocent people will be hurt,” he added.

“Innocent people, but not me. What about the women and children who need these services? Who were abused and sought safety outside of their home? Does their innocence not count?”

“Safety is a convenient excuse. What they’re really worried about is property values. The shelter is in a hot, desirable area. It’s the reason PE bought the building. Areas zoned for planned urban development are very attractive to developers.”

“They should care about safety, but not only their own. It’s rare that a woman leaves the first time she’s abused. In fact, leaving is the most dangerous time for a woman.”

“You don’t have to convince me.”

“Since when?”

Ouch.
She was really angry. That last remark left a bruise.

“Since I married you.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’m on your side, remember?”

“I know.”

“It’s the public we have to convince. Good thing you know a thing or two about that.”

He squeezed her waist. “You’ve got this.”

“I do, don’t I.” Her face fell. “The Senator will be furious. Using the Harrington name for the shelter.”

“Worrying about your father’s anger didn’t stop you the last time the shelter was in danger. And you’re not using the Harrington name. You’re a Pearson now.”

She slid her hands up his arms and encircled them around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at his nape.

“You’re right.”

“And between the two of us, we’ll charm this city into seeing things our way.”

…

A week later, the conference room at Pearson Enterprises was filled with members of the local media. When Pamela had sent out the press release that she and Marcus would be holding a press conference, they’d been flooded with requests to attend. She peeked through the door at the buzzing throng.

Marcus came up behind her and placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Are you ready?”

A fluttery feeling skittered in her belly, and she turned in his embrace. “I’ve done these before, but this feels like my very first one.”

“This time you’re personally involved.”

“Where are Shelly and Carter?”

“In the back, on guard if we need them.”

She adjusted his navy-blue tie and smoothed it against his shirt. He was gorgeous, smart, and strong. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips and wiped away the smudge left behind by her lipstick. “Now I’m ready.”

He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, that feeling of rightness stealing over her again.

When they entered the room, the only sound audible over the beating of her heart was the click of camera shutters. Alongside Marcus, she stepped up onto the platform housing the wooden lectern and remained still as flashes exploded in their faces. She knew the best way to handle the near-blinding lights was to stand still and let her eyes adjust to the glare. Marcus stood next to her, the hard length of his body lending her additional strength and support.

“Good morning, and thank you for coming,” she said, addressing the media.

They’d decided to start with questions, and figured if the topic of the shelter didn’t come up, they’d make a brief statement before ending the press conference. Most of the outlets present thought this was about their marriage. She and Marcus planned to use that curiosity to their advantage.

“We’ll take questions,” Marcus announced.

Immediately, queries came at them from all angles. Pamela called on the first reporter.

“I must say I’m surprised you’re giving this press conference. Everyone in town had given up on being granted an interview.”

There were a few laughs and murmurs of agreement.

Pamela smiled. “We wanted some time to ourselves, to enjoy our first few months as husband and wife. But you guys were persistent, so here we all are.”

“How do you like being Pamela Pearson?”

“I’m not complaining. It comes with great benefits.”

“There are numerous rumors going around for your quick nuptials. Anything you want to announce?”

Pamela laughed. “No. I am not pregnant.”

“We barely knew you were dating before your surprise engagement and walk down the aisle. How did you meet? When did you fall in love?”

Pamela worked hard not to fidget or squirm, but she needn’t have worried. Marcus grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I can’t speak for my wife, but I was blown away the first moment I saw her.”

Her heart froze, and then began pounding in her chest. She stared at him, brows raised. She knew this was for the sake of the reporters, but his words vibrated with sincerity. With effort, she pulled her gaze from his and called on the next reporter.

“You were recently spotted at a Nats game. Are you a fan?”

Pamela widened her eyes and shook her head. The room broke into laughter and Marcus fielded the question. “I’m the fan in the family. A huge fan. When I left the area years ago, the city didn’t have a baseball team. I’m excited they’re here now.”

“There were reports that Mrs. Pearson had been involved in an altercation at the G Street Women’s Shelter. Would you care to comment?”

Here it was. The moment they’d been waiting for. She sucked in a breath, but Marcus gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and addressed the reporter’s question. “I’m so glad you brought that up. A week ago, someone attempted to cause trouble at the shelter where my wife volunteers. Fortunately, none of the residents or their children were injured and the assailant was apprehended. Pamela sustained a few bruises, but she was very brave, and as you can see, she’s fine.”

Pamela chimed in. “We believe in giving back to our community. That’s why I was deeply disturbed to learn there was a group using this incident in an attempt to close the shelter’s doors. The shelter has been here for eight years, fulfilling a vital need in our community. There’s already a shortage of available beds for the women and children who need them. We can’t allow anyone to make the situation worse.”

She glanced in the back and saw Shelly giving her two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Marcus placed an arm around her shoulder. “If anyone should be afraid of going back, it would be Pamela. But she didn’t hesitate to resume her shifts. She is the most dedicated person I know.”

Tears burned her eyes and her lips trembled into a smile. His eyes were bright and intense as he stared at her. He turned back to the bank of microphones thrust in his direction to capture every word.

“The women the shelter services are courageous. Leaving an abuser is one of the most dangerous things they can do, but they do it, positively impacting themselves and their children, which in turn will impact this community. We have a chance to save not only their lives but also the lives of the next generation. Please, show them your support.”

Pamela leaned forward, closer to the microphone, and said, “At the table by the door, we’ve included a press packet with information on the G Street Women’s Shelter and all it does for the community, as well as contact information if you have any questions. Thank you.”

They ended the press conference and watched as the reporters jockeyed for the information and hurried out, each presumably hoping to be the first to get their interview on the air or on the web.

It was crazy, but even in the midst of the drama with the shelter, there was a lightness in her heart. And she owed a lot of that to Marcus. She would never forget hearing those words of support for the shelter coming from his mouth. It meant so much that he was willing to do this for her and for the women and children who sought safety and shelter.

“Do you think that’ll work?” she asked.

“It’s a good start.”

“I hope so. It’d be a shame for the shelter to finally own the building only to have it shut down by the city.”

Especially after what each of them had sacrificed. But could marrying Marcus, and sharing his life—the conversations between them, the fun times they spent together, the nights spent in his arms—really be considered a sacrifice?

Or a reward?

…

The luxurious fantasy of the Inn at Little Washington was a five-star foodie delight. It was a visual feast for the eyes, from the rose-colored lampshades that hung over each table to the heavy patterned draperies that offered its diners privacy. Pamela thought it was well worth driving an hour into the Blue Ridge Mountains.

“What looks good?” she asked Marcus.

“You.”

Pamela smiled, lowering her lashes over her eyes. “I’m not on the menu.”

“Not theirs.” Marcus winked at her before turning his attention to the dinner options.

“Is that all you think about?”

“When it comes to you, absolutely.”

She looked at him, heartbreakingly handsome in a slim-fitting charcoal-gray suit and sky-blue shirt that intensified the color of his eyes. She couldn’t believe he was all hers.

For now.

It was easy to forget there was no promise of forever, despite what he said two weeks ago about not having to end their relationship. Still, it was obvious he was enjoying the change in their arrangement. There was a chance a relationship beyond their agreement could work. But they needed to get the Holcombe deal behind them.

“I’m glad we did this,” she said, admiring the tapestries on the wall. “Can you believe we’re together in public and the social microscope is nowhere in sight?”

He took her hand and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles. The electricity from his touch traveled the length of her arm, arrowed across her midsection, and plummeted to the sensitive spot between her thighs.

“I’ve been selfish. When we weren’t scheduled to be at a social event, I liked having you to myself at home.” He smiled, sweeping his gaze up and down her form. “But you’re much too beautiful not to share with others. Especially tonight.”

So he liked the pantsuit. She was glad. It was one of her favorites. The cream color was a warm complement to her skin tone and the slim fit was the perfect showcase for her curves. More of her was covered than in her usual cocktail attire, but she was in the mood to tempt him.

“You don’t want to keep me all to yourself?” she teased.

“I can share a little bit of you,” he said, “since I’ll get all of you when we go home later.”

Her nipples tightened against the thin silk of her coral top. He was playing dirty. He smiled at her, the gleam in his eye adding to the overall impression of wickedness. He turned his attention back to the menu.

She took a sip of water. “I checked the Rising Heights Neighborhood Association Facebook page. They’ve lost a lot of momentum since the press conference last week.”

All of the local TV stations had run small pieces on the shelter, along with a couple of the local newspapers. Of course, she and Marcus couldn’t avoid the stories about their marriage, but they’d expected that, and had considered it a reasonable price to pay.

“Thanks to you,” he said quietly.

“Thanks to
us
. We make a great team.”

“As I was leaving the office, I got a call from Carter.”

“Let me guess. He’s broken up with stick figure number four and moved on to number five?”

“Meow,” he said, his lips tipping up in a half smile.

“I know, I know, but he could do much better. Does he enjoy being a playboy?”

Marcus arched an eyebrow. “If he didn’t, he would stop.”

“DC is full of smart, interesting women. I don’t get why he’s so intrigued by the vacuous ones.”

“I know you don’t, sweetheart, because you’re an admirable woman. But he didn’t call to discuss his sex life.” He closed his menu and placed it on the table. “We’ve agreed to terms on the Holcombe.”

“Marcus, that’s wonderful!”