The Wade Dynasty

Nathan shrugged dismissively. ‘I believe he said his name was Nick.'

Brenna shot him a resentful glance, hating him more than ever for his assumption. ‘Carolyn happens to be my friend,’ she bit out precisely. ‘Nick Bancroft is her fiancé.'

‘That's very liberal of her,’ he rasped.

‘You—–'

‘Let's not get into an argument here,’ he told her patronisingly. ‘I would hate one—or both—of us, to go over the side of this cliff.'

It didn't surprise her that he had known that was just what she would like to do to him. ‘Then don't make assumptions,’ she ground out angrily.

‘I'll try not to,’ he drawled. ‘But when a young man answers the door of the cottage I've been told you're a guest at, what else was I supposed to think?'

Ever since she had reached sixteen years of age she had had to contend with Nathan's over-protectiveness where boys were concerned, when, after years of taking no notice of her, he had suddenly decided to offer her a big brother's protection, a protection she hadn't wanted then and deeply resented now. Even if Nick had been her lover instead of Carolyn's it was none of this man's business—she was twenty-two, not sixteen! Besides, it was protection from him she had needed—and not received.

‘Maybe you should have asked.’ Her eyes flashed her resentment.

Grey eyes warred with green for several seconds, until finally Nathan sighed heavily, running an impatient hand through the overlong hair he was somehow always forgetting to have cut. But the longer style suited the harshness of his face, slightly softening those intimidating features, the lines that indicated that he had lived a hard thirty-six years for all his wealth. ‘I didn't come here to discuss your lovers—or lack of them,’ he added at her rebellious expression.

Somehow even that sounded like an insult. ‘Then why are you here?’ she asked impatiently, taking her leather pouch from him to begin walking up the hill to the cottage Carolyn had rented for the month.

‘Lesli has walked out on Grant and I have reason to think she's coming to you.'

If Nathan, a man who lashed with his tongue rather than his hands, had struck her hard across the face she couldn't have been more stunned, coming to an abrupt halt before she whipped around to face him. He hadn't moved, silhouetted against the grey-green sea now. ‘Lesli has left Grant?’ she repeated disbelievingly; Lesli had always worshipped the ground Grant walked over.

Nathan gave an abrupt inclination of his head. ‘Three days ago. You obviously knew nothing about it,’ he sighed at the realisation.

Lesli had left Grant? It was unthinkable. Her sister adored the man, had given up the idea of law school as soon as he had asked her to marry him, and had never seemed to regret that decision, becoming the perfect rancher's wife only three months before their parents were killed in a light aeroplane crash only five miles from the ranch. She had continued that way for the last four years.

‘I don't believe it,’ Brenna shook her head. ‘Lesli would never leave Grant.'

‘Believe me, she has,’ Nathan drawled.

‘But why?’ she groaned.

He shrugged. ‘They had an argument—and don't ask me what about, Grant told me to stay out of it when I asked him,’ he revealed drily.

Brenna could believe that; Grant was as arrogant as his brother. ‘You said you believe she was coming here?’ she prompted faintly.

‘She was booked on the flight that should have landed two days ago.'

‘Then she's in London,’ Brenna groaned.

‘All I know is that she was booked on the flight, the airline wouldn't tell me whether or not she actually got on it,’ he explained grimly.

‘Wouldn't or couldn't?’ she scorned.

‘Wouldn't,’ he repeated softly, dangerously. ‘The dictates of security. Do you really think now is the time for an argument about what the Wade money can or cannot buy?'

Colour darkened her cheeks as he correctly guessed the reason for her derision. She had learnt early in life what power the Wade name and money wielded, and even ten years later she hadn't been able to bury her bitterness. In fact, it had increased.

She swallowed hard. ‘If Grant wanted you to stay out of it why didn't he come after her himself?’ she demanded resentfully.

‘I told you, we aren't sure she actually got on that flight, and if she didn't then whoever came here was going to have a wasted journey. If she changed her mind and went home Grant wanted to be there.'

‘Waiting for her,’ she rasped.

Anger flared in the silver-grey eyes. ‘You make it sound as if he intends beating her as soon as he gets his hands on her,’ Nathan snapped harshly.

‘For daring to leave him?’ Brenna questioned tautly. ‘It's a possibility.'

Nathan's mouth tightened. ‘Don't be so damned stupid!’ he said caustically. ‘I don't believe anything can be solved by running away,’ his tone was accusing. ‘But even I would hesitate to hit a woman seven months pregnant with my child!'

The cutting rejoinder she had been about to make in retaliation to his ‘running away’ remark fled her mind at the mention of Lesli's pregnancy. ‘Heavens, I'd forgotten for a moment,’ she moaned. ‘Where could she have gone?’ Worry darkened her eyes.

‘Well, it's obvious that if she did come in on that plane she wasn't able to persuade your landlady to tell her where you were.'

‘As you were,’ she put in drily.

‘Brenna—–'

‘I'm sorry,’ she grimaced. ‘Force of habit.'

‘I'm aware of that,’ he rasped.

‘I said I was sorry,’ she glared.

‘And that makes everything all right?’ Nathan demanded tersely.

Brenna was aware that he had seen a double meaning to her apology—and taken it. ‘You said you were over that,’ she avoided the piercing ice of his eyes, knowing how he must have hated being thwarted a year ago when she hadn't returned to Canada as she was expected to.

‘That?’ he gave a harsh snort. ‘What's the matter, Brenna, can't you even use the word love?'

Her chin rose challengingly. ‘Not in connection with you, no!'

A dangerous glitter narrowed his eyes. ‘Then it's as well I am “over that”, isn't it?’ he bit out harshly. ‘Otherwise you just might have hurt my feelings, mightn't you?'

The idea of anyone or anything being able to pierce this man's heart and actually find any softer emotions that could be hurt was as laughable as his derisive tone implied.

‘Did you try the hotels in town?’ Brenna returned to the subject of Lesli, not willing to get into an argument with Nathan about what had happened sixteen months ago, and the fact that she hadn't returned to Calgary when college finished that summer as she had told Nathan she would.

‘All the major ones,’ he nodded. ‘None of them had a Mrs Wade or a Miss Jordan registered, which means that if she is in London she has no intention of being found until she's good and ready. Which leaves you,’ he reasoned. ‘Wherever she is, here or still in Canada, she'll be in touch with you some time in the near future; the Jordan sisters always stick together,’ he added derisively.

She knew he was referring to the fact that although she hadn't been back to Canada the last year, she had telephoned her sister regularly once a month just to let her know she was all right, had even written a couple of times. She had made no such contact with Nathan, and Lesli had promised not to give him her address. Her eyes widened as she realised that.

‘Grant and I searched out a few of those letters from you that Lesli has been hoarding the last year,’ Nathan drawled as he guessed the reason for her accusing look.

‘You read my letters to Lesli?’ she gasped, desperately trying to remember all that she had said in them; little about Nathan, she was sure.