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  Elle looked down at the arrangement of white lilies and blood-red roses, and couldn’t help thinking of all the bad blood that had flowed between her family and Brock’s. Could their marriage sew together the jagged, bitter edges of competition?

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. One step at a time. The hostess opened the door and Elle stepped outside.

  Brock watched as the door to the cottage opened and Elle appeared. The wind lifted tendrils of her hair and the hem of her lacy dress fluttered against her shapely upper calves. She had an ethereal look to her, almost angelic, but he knew different in every way. She’d been a sensual goddess in his bed, fulfilling his every need. At work, she had seemed like the perfect assistant, but the truth was she’d been tricking him every day, deceiving him.

  He felt a stab of bitterness in his throat and swallowed it. There were more important things, he reminded himself. The baby. His baby. If there was anything his father had taught him, it was duty to the company and duty to his family.

  His mother had been a dutiful but passionless wife and mother. Brock knew Elle would be different. He’d already experienced her passion and he knew, deep down in his bones, that she would love their child. Their child wouldn’t be regarded as an obligation. Elle would receive their child as a precious gift and responsibility. As for their relationship, they would work that out along the way.

  She met his gaze and though he couldn’t see her eyes from where he stood, he guessed they were probably turbulent with conflicting emotions. She looked like a prized princess, her head held high, walking tall, only the smallest bump showing when the wind flattened her dress against her abdomen.

  Brock couldn’t tear his gaze from her. She’d been the lover who’d both comforted him and turned him upside down. And betrayed him.

  Despite that last fact, he still craved her. He should have hated himself for it, but he knew that once she bore his name, he would be her first priority. There would be no more division of loyalties. Her loyalty would be to him.

  She took the last few steps and stood next to him, searching his gaze. Just as he’d anticipated, her eyes were full of emotion. He took her hand in his and watched her inhale quickly. It gave him pleasure to know that he still got past her reserve.

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, all the while looking into her eyes. “We’re ready,” he said in a low voice to the officiant, and the ceremony began. He repeated the vows he’d never made before and watched as she did the same.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister said. “You may kiss the bride.”

  The sun came out from behind a cloud and Brock pulled Elle into his arms. She felt both strong and delicate against him. He lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a kiss of promise. He felt her tremble. “It will be okay,” he whispered against her ear.

  “It will,” she whispered, but didn’t look at all convinced.

  Elle felt numb. The steak dinner arranged for her wedding celebration may as well have been sawdust in her mouth. Her hands were freezing, but she forced herself to nod and smile at Flynn and his wife, Renee.

  “You look beautiful,” Renee said.

  “Thank you,” Elle replied, feeling a stab of guilt for betraying the woman by using their friendship to get more secrets for her grandfather to use against Maddox. Renee had been a friend to her. She was surprised Renee was willing to speak to her, let alone extend her good wishes.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see my brother get married,” Flynn said. “He’s been married to the company for so long, I was starting to wonder…”

  “No need to wonder anymore,” Brock said, lifting his glass of wine. “Thanks for being here,” he said to Flynn. Then he turned to Elle. “To my wife—may our love grow, our commitment deepen and our joy overflow.”

  “I can only hope,” Elle whispered under her breath, lifting her glass of sparkling water. The passion she glimpsed in his laser-blue eyes reminded her why she’d fallen for Brock. His passion for work, for life and, in the dark of night in his office apartment, for her.

  Her mother and Brock’s brother and sister-in-law clapped in approval.

  “Honeymoon plans?” Flynn asked.

  In one heartbeat, Brock’s eyes turned to ice. He looked away. “Later,” he said. “I have to dig the company out of its current crisis.”

  Elle felt her stomach sink to her knees and was glad she was sitting down. She knew she was the reason for the “current crisis.”

  An hour later, after their guests had departed, Elle left the cottage in Brock’s limo. It was so silent she could barely breathe.

  “You look beautiful,” Brock said, but didn’t meet her gaze.

  She tried without success to take a deep breath. This was a huge mistake, she thought. Was there any way she could go back? Was an annulment possible? “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “The flowers and harp were very nice.”

  He nodded. “Every woman deserves something special at her wedding.”

  “Who told you that?”

  He paused. “Renee.”

  “That was generous of her.”

  “I thought so,” he said.

  She bit her lip. “I don’t blame everyone for being angry with me, and I don’t blame you for resenting me—”

  “I don’t,” he cut in. “Your loyalty was with your grand father. Now it’s with me.”

  It was so much more complicated than that, she thought. As the limo pulled up in front of Brock’s grand home, he got out of the car and escorted Elle through the front door. His combination of good manners and primal strength had captivated her from the beginning. He could appear so smooth and civilized, but if necessary, he had the instincts of a street fighter and would go for the jugular to protect what was his.

  She wondered how far his possessiveness toward her extended. Was it just for the baby?

  The housekeeper approached them with a beaming smile. “Congratulations, both of you. I’m so happy for you. And you just look lovely, Miss Linton.” She covered her mouth. “Oh, I should have said Mrs. Maddox.”

  Elle’s heart skipped at the sound of her new name. Pushing aside her conflicting feelings, she took the woman’s hands in hers. “Thank you, Anna. You’re very kind.”

  “Please have Roger move Elle’s things into my suite,” Brock said.

  “Right away. We’ll have it done in no time,” the housekeeper said and walked down the hallway.

  Elle struggled with a surge of panic. “Your suite,” she echoed, meeting his gaze.

  “My suite has two bedrooms, two baths, a study, den and small exercise room. At some point my mother will return here, hopefully for a brief period,” he said in a dry voice. “The less she knows about my private life, the better—she’s been known to cause trouble. There won’t be as many questions if you’re living in my suite. Now, I need to go back to the office, but I’ll be home later tonight. Roger will be on hand for you to move the rest of your things here during the next few days, but I don’t want you to overdo it. You’ve had a busy day.”

  He looked deep into her eyes and she saw a glimpse of the passion they’d shared. But just as quickly, the fire was gone. “I’ll see you later,” he said, leaving her alone on their wedding night.

  Most of Maddox’s employees had left by the time Brock invited Logan Emerson into his office after hours. He’d hired the private investigator a short while back when it had become clear that someone was leaking company secrets. Brock’s gut sank again as he remembered the exact moment he’d learned Elle had been the one. Elle, his uncorrupted island, had been twisting the knife at the same time she’d made love to him.

  Logan sat across from Brock. “I just heard about your marriage. I was surprised.”

  “She’s pregnant with my child,” Brock said.

  Logan, usually reserved, gave a low whistle of surprise. “I’m assuming that means you won’t be prosecuting her.”

  “You assume correctly,” Brock said.
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br />   “I understand. Well, it appears as if my job here is done,” Logan said.

  Brock frowned. “Perhaps not. Maddox is still at a critical point. There are several possibilities I want to explore. Quickly, of course. I’d like to keep you on longer until we see how things shake out.”

  “No problem,” he said. “Just let me know what you need.”

  “Good,” Brock said and stood. “That’s all for now.”

  Logan extended his hand. “Best wishes on your marriage. It’s not my place to say, really, but I don’t believe Elle enjoyed the deception.”

  Brock just nodded. He was still coming to grips with how his life had been turned upside down in such a short time. “Thank you.”

  Brock reviewed his plans for the rest of the week, but it took longer than usual because he kept thinking about Elle’s deception. He clenched his hands, then released them. The only thing that helped him was the fact that he would have done the same for his father. And he’d do anything for the sake of the company. It was his duty, his destiny, his heritage.

  Hours later, after he left work, he climbed the stairs to his suite. He noticed one of the bedroom doors was closed but the one to the master bedroom was left open. The lamp on his bedside table was on, and the covers on his king-size bed were turned back. Walking through the doorway, he studied the room, catching the whiff of a sweet scent. His gaze caught on a small, clear vase on the bedside table. Inside stood one ruby-red rose. From Elle’s bouquet. He saw a piece of paper sitting next to the vase.

  Thank you. Elle.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d thanked him for giving her flowers, but still, he was touched. The rose reminded him of the passion they’d shared before everything had come to light. He lifted it and inhaled the fragrance, wondering if they would ever feel that sweetness they’d shared again.

  Four

  Elle set her alarm so she could join Brock for breakfast. She wasn’t at all sure how to make their marriage work, but she knew that avoiding him wouldn’t help. Shaking off her sleepiness, she beat him to the sunroom by a minute and a half.

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise as he entered the room.

  She felt a tiny surge of gratification and smiled. “Good morning.” She lifted the hot pot of coffee. “Ready for your first cup?”

  “Yes, thank you,” he said, and she poured for him.

  She felt his gaze skim over her as he took a sip. “Where’s yours?”

  She shook her head. “Coffee’s not on my list these days.”

  “Why not?”

  “Caffeine’s a no-no during pregnancy,” she said. “It helps that I’ve temporarily lost my taste for it.”

  Brock’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ooh. That’s tough. How does that affect your sleepiness?”

  She laughed. “I’m still in the sleepy stage.”

  “Sleepy stage?”

  “I want to take naps constantly. I’ve actually felt like this for several weeks and was hoping I wasn’t coming down with something. But I guess in a way, I did. The nine-month flu,” she said, chuckling to herself.

  Brock smiled as he lifted his cup for another sip.

  “The good news is any day now I’m supposed to start feeling a burst of energy and I’ll be incredibly productive.”

  “As long as you don’t plan on running a marathon,” he said. “Your main job is to take care of yourself and the baby.”

  “At some point, I’ll need to make some plans for a nursery,” she ventured, watching his expression carefully.

  He nodded and met her gaze. “Eventually, the child can be moved into his or her own room. My suite was originally designed for my wife and me to share the master bedroom, and the infant to sleep where you are currently.”

  Elle felt a jolt of heat as sensual memories flooded her mind. Did Brock want her in his bed again? What would be different between them? “Is that what you want?”

  “We don’t need to make that decision right now. You’ve been through a lot during the last couple of weeks. Make sure you don’t do too much today when you’re packing and unpacking your belongings. That’s what Roger is for.”

  She nodded and a silence fell between them. How she longed for the easy conversation they’d once shared.

  He glanced at his watch. “Time for me to go.”

  “So early?” The words popped out before she knew it.

  “Breakfast meeting with—” He stopped as if he remembered he couldn’t share that information with her. She’d shown him she couldn’t be trusted. Elle hated that. She wondered if it would always be this way between them—oh-so-careful with edited information.

  “Have a good day,” she managed.

  “You, too,” he said and walked away.

  Her stomach twisted and she forced herself to take a quick breath. Give it time, she told herself. You haven’t even been married twenty-four hours.

  Later that day, Elle’s mother helped her pack. “This is the sad part,” her mother said. “As happy as I am for you that you’re married and moving to live with your husband, I’ll miss you terribly.”

  Her mother’s tone tugged at her heart and Elle gave her a hug. “It’s not like I’m moving very far. We can see each other as often as we like. And you know you can call me for anything,” Elle said firmly.

  “I’m glad I finally joined that support group last year,” Suzanne said. “We really do help take care of each other, and heaven knows I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

  Elle held up her hand. “Stop that craziness. You know you’re no burden. I just don’t want you to push yourself too much, especially now that you’ve gone back to work part-time.”

  “Look who’s talking,” her mother said. “You’re the one who’s been working double time lately, preparing for the wedding and moving. Thank goodness Brock won’t let you overdo any longer. I can tell he’s a strong man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Elle murmured, thinking Brock wouldn’t let her within a mile of the office at this point.

  “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell him about the baby as soon as you knew,” her mother said, her brows knitting in a furrow.

  “Aside from the fact that it was an office affair?” Elle said, even though it had been far more than that to her. She smiled and gave her mother another squeeze. “You know, things just get complicated sometimes.”

  Later that evening, Elle tried to help Roger carry a box upstairs but was brushed aside. He shot her an appalled glance. “Absolutely not, Mrs. Maddox. Mr. Maddox would have my head. I would have my head,” the older man said.

  “Okay, okay,” Elle said, stepping aside. “At least let me get you something to drink.”

  Roger gave a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”

  Elle checked out the small refrigerator in the mini-kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water. She walked back to the smaller bedroom where Roger was stacking the last of the boxes.

  “Now, you know not to lift these,” he said, shooting her a warning gaze with iron-gray eyebrows over dark gray eyes.

  “Maybe we should spread them out a little,” she suggested.

  He lifted his hand as she approached to help. “I’ll do it, but only with the agreement that you leave a light on at night so you won’t trip on your way to the bathroom.”

  “Excellent idea,” she said, clapping her hands. “I see why Brock relies on you.”

  Roger’s lips lifted in a half grin. “Thank you. I’m honored by the compliment.”

  A few moments later, she thrust the bottle of water into his hands and impulsively hugged the cranky man.

  He gave a low chuckle of surprise. “Now, promise you won’t try to do too much this evening. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know?”

  During the next hour, Elle emptied four boxes into drawers and the generous walk-in closet. Glancing up, she noticed the late hour and decided to take a break with a hot shower. She wondered where Brock was. Was he staying at his office apartment tonight? In the bed they had shared so many
times after work?

  The notion twisted something inside her and she tried not to think about it as the water spilled over her. She tried to visualize the warmth washing away all her worries as she rubbed her belly. Elle couldn’t overthink the future right now. Dealing with today was enough.

  She dried off and pulled a comfy cotton nightshirt over her head. She combed through her wet hair and slid her arms into a long terry-cloth robe that tied at her waist. Her stomach growled, surprising her. It was late and she needed to sleep. What had she read recently about foods one should eat at bedtime? A banana. She’d seen a bunch downstairs. She would eat half of one, she decided, and headed for the stairs.

  She took the first step, then the next. Her foot caught in the hem of her robe and she grabbed at the banister but she was too late. She fell headfirst down the stairs and felt the impact of the wooden steps against her chest and belly. A scream escaped her. She grabbed and clutched for anything to stop her. She screamed again.

  Anna and Roger appeared at the bottom of the steps, their faces filled with horror.

  Elle closed her eyes at their expressions. Oh, god, help her. The baby. The baby.

  Roger rushed to her side. “Miss, are you okay? Are you awake?”

  Elle took a deep breath, trying to take stock of her body. She felt sore in places she couldn’t identify. “I’m conscious,” she said, opening her eyes again. “But I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I want to make sure the baby is okay.”

  Roger’s eyebrows drew together. “We’ll take you to the hospital immediately,” he said.

  Brock marched into the emergency room, his heart pounding against his chest. He stopped at the desk. “Brock Maddox. My wife is here,” he said in a curt voice.

  The receptionist nodded. “Please come this way,” she said and led him down a hallway to a room. She opened the door and he spotted Elle reclining on a table with Anna and Roger by her side. The atmosphere in the room was grim.

  All three of them looked at him.

  “Mr. Maddox—” Roger and Anna said in unison.