A Bride's Tangled Vows

“Yes, he had a will, but that’s not really helpful since he isn’t dead.”

A single bout of silence from Trisha was a surprise. Twice in one conversation—a miracle. But she came back with her usual snarky humor.

“So are you trying to talk me into moving to the wilds of South Carolina? Marty wouldn’t care much for that.”

Just the thought of Italian-born-and-bred Antonio Martinelli in Black Hills was enough to brighten Aiden’s day. “No, as amusing as that would be, I was thinking more along the lines of giving you an assistant and a raise.”

Make that three spells of silence, although the pause was much shorter this time. “Don’t tease me, Aiden.”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, feeling as if he should raise his hand in a scout-style salute. “You’ve worked hard, sharpened your own sales skills. I’m gonna need help to pull this off. We can do a lot by conference call and video chats, and I’ll make a trip up there when necessary. But the majority of first contact and sales will fall on you.”

Aiden ignored the surge of misery at the thought of being away from his business for long. But he wouldn’t be out of contact. And he would not lose the gem it had cost him years of his life to build.

“It’s only temporary,” he assured his assistant and himself. “Just until I can get legal custody of Mother.” But watching until Christina disappeared from sight, Aiden knew his motives weren’t nearly that noble.

Turning away, he gave Trisha a brief rundown of his grandfather’s demands.

“Whoa,” she said. “And I thought Italian-American grandparents were demanding. That’s crazy. Why would you go through with that?”

“At least a wife will give me a weapon against Ellen,” he said, making light of his current struggle. Shivers erupted just thinking about the barracuda with whom he’d mildly enjoyed his customary night, only to have her decide once wasn’t enough. She’d spent the last month making his life miserable. “How often has she called the office?” Aiden had blocked her from his cell phone.

“Oh, every afternoon like clockwork. She doesn’t believe that you aren’t here. I’m just waiting for her to show up in person and force me to pull out my pepper spray.”

There was way too much glee in his assistant’s voice. “Don’t get arrested.”

“I won’t...if she behaves herself—”

Doubtful. But Trisha handled most situations with tact—even if she talked tough. “Do whatever you have to do. Maybe me being out of town for several months will help. In the meantime, you can forward client calls to my cell.”

They talked a few more logistics, and Aiden promised to be in touch daily. Balancing two businesses in two different states would not be a walk in the park, but he was determined to hold on to whatever he could in New York.

His grandfather might take his freedom, but he would not destroy everything Aiden had worked so hard to build.

Three (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

Aiden’s uncharacteristic urge to curse like a sailor was starting to irritate him. As he snatched one of the cookies Marie had left cooling on the kitchen counter, he contemplated the grim facts. His lawyer hadn’t found a way around the legal knots James had tied. There wasn’t evidence to have him declared mentally unstable. He was, but then he’d always been. If jackassery could be considered a mental condition. And any legal proceedings to steal guardianship of his mother would take too long. Aiden wasn’t willing to chance his mother’s health and well-being. He owed her too much.

So his bad mood was justified, but when he found himself stomping up the narrow back staircase from the kitchen, the taste of chocolate chip cookie lingering on his tongue, he knew it was time to get himself under control. After all, he wasn’t a schoolboy or angst-ridden teen. He was a man capable of engineering million-dollar art deals. He could handle one obstinate grandfather and a soon-to-be bride—but only with a cool head.

As a distraction, his mind drifted to other days blessed with warm cookies, spent playing hide-and-seek or sword-wielding pirates on these dark stairs. The perfect atmosphere for little-boy secrets and make-believe. He and his brothers had also used them to disappear when their grandfather came looking for them. He’d often been on a terror about something or other. They’d sneak down and out the kitchen door for a quick escape.

Aiden stretched his mouth into a grim smile as he rounded a particularly tight bend. Escape was something he’d always excelled at. Except with Ellen Zabinski.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until too late. He’d barely looked up before colliding with someone coming down the stairs. A soft someone who emitted a little squeal as she stumbled. Certain they’d fall, Aiden surged forward to keep from losing his balance. Christina tried to pull back, but her momentum worked against her. Hands flailed, finding purchase on his shoulders. Her front crushed to his. Their weight pressed dead against each other, stabilizing as two became one.

Everything froze for Aiden, as if his very cells locked down. He managed one strangled breath, filled with the fresh scent of her hair, before his body sprang to life. Her soft curves and sexy smell urged him to pull her closer, so much so that his fingers tightened against the rounded curves of her denim-covered hips. The soft flesh gave beneath his grip.

He’d been without a woman for far too long. That had to be why he was so off balance. His strict adherence to his “no attachments” rule had led to a lifetime of brief encounters. His last choice had been a wrong one, a woman who wasn’t happy when he walked out the door the next morning. It had soured him on any woman since.

Darkness permeated the staircase, heightening the illusion of intimacy. His and Christina’s accelerated breaths were the only sound between them. They were so close, he felt the slight tremor that raced over her echo throughout his entire body. It took more minutes than Aiden cared to admit for his mind to kick into gear.

“Dreamed up more ways to invade my territory, Christina?”

He felt her stiffen against his palms, tension replacing that delicious softness. Just as he’d intended.

Before he could regret anything, she retreated, stabilizing herself with a hand against the wall. “Aiden,” she said, prim disapproval not hiding a hint of breathlessness, “I’m sorry for not seeing you.”

I’m not.

“And for the record, I’m not invading anything. So I’d thank you to never call me by that stupid nickname.”

It was a sign of his own childhood needs that he’d resented the attention she’d received here at Blackstone Manor when they were kids, enough to tease her with his invader tag. There had been times he’d felt as if she had invaded their chaotic life, garnering what little positive attention there was to go around. How he’d resented that. To the point that, one hot summer afternoon, he’d spoken harsh words he’d always regret.

“I’m trying to help, Aiden. I really am.” Her voice came out low, intensifying the sense of intimacy.

He had to clear his own throat before he spoke again. “Why? I’m nothing to you.”

“And I realize I’m nothing to you, but I care very much for Lily.”

He could feel his suspicious nature, the one that served him so well in business negotiations, kick in. “So what’s he have on you, sweetheart?”

Christina didn’t pretend not to understand. “Lily.”

“Why? There are other jobs, other people in need of a nurse.”

Her glare was almost visible in the dim light. He should feel lucky he wasn’t smoldering under that fire. Instead, a cool brush of air drifted over him as she shifted back on the steps. “If you had hung around over the past ten years, you’d know that Lily has been like a mother to me. Ever since we were kids.” Pausing to swallow, she looked down for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was once more firm and devoid of emotion. “I understand what’s being required of me.”

Somehow that monotone didn’t make him any happier than her anger, and he couldn’t resist the urge to shake her out of it. “You’d sell yourself to a stranger for what, money? Hoping ol’ Granddad will give you a piece of the pie if you work hard enough for it?”

“No,” she insisted. “I’m not selling myself, but I will sacrifice myself to do what I think is right for Lily.” She reached out in a pleading gesture, but jerked back as her fingertips brushed his chest. A deep breath seemed to stabilize her control. The professional was back. “It’s my belief as a nurse, and as Lily’s friend, that she’s conscious of where she is. This house has been her sanctuary since her car accident. I can guarantee that removing her from here will negatively affect her physical and emotional condition. Especially if he puts her in—” a shudder worked its way over her “—that place. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep Lily out of there.... Will you?”

Aiden shifted his legs, wishing he could pace despite the confinement of his surroundings. “Would he really do that to her, you think?”

An unladylike snort sounded in the air, surprising him. But Christina obviously wasn’t in the mood to pull her punches. “Have you forgotten that much already? He’s only become more pigheaded through the years.”

“You seem to handle him pretty well,” he said, remembering how she’d stared James down over the medicine.

Her brow lifted in disbelief. “He only concedes to my medical expertise because he’s afraid of dying.”

“He’s not afraid of anything.”

“Actually, Aiden, deep down we’re all afraid of something.” Her shaky breath told him she was afraid of something, too, but she wasn’t revealing any secrets. “Death is the only thing James can’t outwit, outsmart or bully into getting his way.”

Though he didn’t understand why, Aiden felt a strange kinship tingle at the edge of his consciousness. She might look delicate, but Christina was racking up evidence of being one smart cookie. On top of that, a common bond tightened between them: Lily. He knew the source of his guilt—his obligation to his mother. Despite her words, he knew Christina’s devotion to Lily wasn’t just friendship; something else lurked beneath that fierce dedication. Was it just how good Lily had been to her? Or something more? He’d find out what was going on there. She could bet on it.

The sudden silence must have become too much for her, because Christina moved forward as if to continue down the stairs. The polite thing would have been to step aside, but the ache to feel that body against his once more kept him perversely still. She slowed within a hairbreadth, tension mounting once more. “Aiden?”

“So you’re really willing to do this?” he asked, almost holding his breath as he awaited her answer. What delicious torture to spend the next year with this woman and keep his hands to himself. Could he? This was a huge mistake.