The C.O.O. Must Marry Read online

  And she was terrified her mother would call and put pressure on her to give her father more time, or to beg her to change her mind. She didn’t want the stress of even talking to her mother right now and certainly not in front of Nick.

  An idea occurred to her.

  “I think I’ve got cabin fever, Nick. Let’s go out for a drink somewhere.”

  He blinked in mild surprise and put aside some paperwork. “Will one of the local pubs do?”

  “Yes, there’s some lovely pubs around here. And can we turn our cell phones off, please? Let’s not have any interruptions.”

  He shot her an odd look. “If that’s what you want.”

  Half an hour later they were sitting in the corner at a local pub, sipping their drinks. The hotel was on the heritage listing as were many buildings in the Hawkesbury district.

  “Any special reason for the cabin fever?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his eyes watchful.

  It sounded a ridiculous thing for her to say now. They’d been out of the house a lot lately and cabin fever was the last thing she’d have.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I guess it’s more that we haven’t had much time to ourselves.”

  He nodded. “And all that with your father didn’t help either, does it?”

  She gave a silent gasp. “Wh-what?”

  “With Porter being in hospital.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed. “Yes.”

  His look sharpened. “You’ve been tense all night. Are you sure you’re telling me everything? He’s not taken a turn for the worse, has he?”

  “No, he’s fine.” Panic bounced inside her. She had to get thoughts of her father out of Nick’s mind and onto something else. Otherwise she might give herself way. “Brenda called me, you know.”

  He straightened in his chair. “What? When?”

  “Sunday morning after you went to your father’s place. She said she was returning your call.”

  The look in his eyes turned hard and dangerous. He would be a formidable enemy. “She did, did she?”

  “So you didn’t call her?”

  “No.” His gaze focused back on her. “Did you think I had? Is that why you didn’t tell me before now? You’ve been worrying yourself sick about it.”

  “No, that’s not it at all. I figured you just wanted to tell her to stay away from you.”

  “I’d already told her. And she knows the score. She was just trying to cause trouble.” He stared at her. “And succeeded.”

  “No, she didn’t.” Brenda had tried to make her doubt Nick, but in the end she hadn’t succeeded.

  Nick’s eyes were razor-sharp. “You’ve been upset all evening. In fact, you haven’t been yourself since Sunday at the party.”

  Somehow she held it together. Sunday was when she’d learned what her father had done.

  “I told you it’s because of everything else.” She swallowed past her dry throat. “I believe you, Nick. I swear I believe you.”

  He studied her face, taking his time to measure her words. Finally a gentle look came into his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Her heart tilted inside her chest.

  In the end they stayed for over two hours, talking about nothing much in particular and listening to a folk singer. Sasha could feel the tension easing out of her as the wine took hold.

  “I think that did us both good,” Nick said on the drive home.

  She leaned her head back against the leather seat and smiled sideways at him. “We should do it more often.”

  He chuckled. “I believe you’re slightly drunk, Mrs. Valente.”

  “Enough to take the edge off my pain,” she said without thinking.

  His scowl was instant. “You’re in pain?”

  She bit her lip and thanked heaven he had to concentrate on the road. “I had a headache before,” she lied. “I thought it was going to turn into a migraine.”

  He darted a look at her. “Do you often get migraines?”

  “No.” But she had the feeling she may well start after all this.

  Without warning, he gave a crooked grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll kiss you better if it returns.”

  “Then it’ll be worth it.”

  “Don’t say things like that when I’m driving,” he pretended to growl.

  She just smiled.

  They arrived home and he parked the car in the sweeping driveway, but something happened inside her as she watched him come round to open the passenger door. A sense of impending doom centered in her chest. Suddenly she had the feeling this was all coming to an end.

  “Come on, milady,” he drawled, holding his hand out.

  She vaguely heard him. This moment was far more important than joking or teasing or anything else in this world. God, she loved this man. How could she ever tell him the truth?

  She stood up and cupped his face with her hands. “Make love to me, Nick. Make me forget all my headaches.”

  He looked down at her, his brows drawing together. “What’s all this about?”

  “Nick, don’t talk. I need you tonight. Make me yours.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, then must have thought better of it. He released his breath and lowered his head.

  After that it seemed like they kissed all the way to the bedroom. And in the bedroom…dear God, in the bedroom…their lovemaking took on a poignancy she was sure Nick felt, too. There was a deeper focus in his eyes as he looked at her. A longer than usual pause as he entered her.

  And when he made her his—perhaps for the last time—her heart hurt.

  Eleven

  S asha’s pace quickened as she stepped from the elevator and walked toward Nick’s office in the House of Valente building just before noon. Her sense of impending doom from last night had alleviated by the time she woke this morning, making her realize it had mostly been the wine.

  But not all.

  There was still a heavy feeling inside her that she’d been trying to push aside all morning, and it hadn’t helped that the hours had dragged until it was time to come into the city for the harbor cruise. She’d needed to keep busy.

  And she’d needed to see Nick again. Hopefully being with the man she loved would help push away those demons and doubts riding on her shoulder.

  “He’s in the conference room,” Nick’s personal assistant said. “I’ll just let him know you’re here.” She went to press the intercom.

  “That’s okay, Joyce. I can wait in his office.”

  “No, he said to tell him when you arrived. It’s only the family in there anyway.”

  Knowing he was waiting for her filled Sasha with pleasure, more so when Joyce said to go straight into the conference room.

  “Thank you.” Sasha’s steps were lighter as she continued along to the end of the corridor. The view of the harbor through the panel of windows called out to her and she was really beginning to look forward to the cruise today. The harbor breeze could be just what she needed right now, especially if she was sharing it with Nick.

  “Come in,” Cesare called out in response to her knock.

  Sasha opened the door with a smile. She had to admit she really liked being a part of the Valente family. Growing up, she’d often been a little wary of Cesare but he was a good man and so were the others.

  “Well, well,” the older man in question said as she came toward three of the Valente men sitting at the conference table. Nick was standing at the window looking out, his back to her. “You’re just in time.”

  Sasha’s steps faltered at his tone. “I…am?”

  Why hadn’t Nick turned to face her?

  “In time for what, Cesare?”

  “For me to have your father arrested for fraud.”

  Sasha’s heart dropped to her toes.

  “We’ve found out what he’s been up to. Did you think we wouldn’t?”

  Sasha couldn’t find her voice.

  “I can’t believe Porter thought he could get away with it,” Cesare continued. “Does he think the
Valentes are stupid? And you were in on it, too, weren’t you, girl?”

  She gasped at the accusation, aware of three sets of eyes upon her, but the eyes that mattered—Nick’s eyes—were still turned away from her.

  “And I, fool that I am, wanted Nick to marry you. I thought you were perfect for my son.” He gave a harsh laugh. “No wonder Porter wanted you to marry Nick, and no wonder you agreed to the marriage. If it was all in the family he’d get that contract, no questions asked. Of course you had to say no first, didn’t you? That way you could dangle yourself as bait in front of Nick and—”

  “Enough!” Nick spun around, his face taut as he glared at his father. “You’re accusing Sasha without any evidence. You don’t know she was involved in any of this.”

  “Then ask her, figlio mio,” Cesare said. “Ask her, and then we will know.”

  She watched Nick hesitate, and felt like she’d been slapped in the face.

  He doubted her.

  Then he straightened his shoulders and walked toward her. “Sasha,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, his eyes with a hint of pleading in them. “Please tell me you didn’t know about any of this.”

  A moment crept by. The others receded into the background. There was her and Nick.

  Only her and Nick.

  And soon….

  She trembled. “I…I…can’t.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Nick, I—”

  His glare silenced her. “No excuses.”

  “But—”

  “This was your sick way of getting revenge, wasn’t it?” Disgust filled his eyes now. “Very clever, Sasha.”

  “Revenge? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Remember that kiss in the gazebo? Remember how you thought I’d rejected you? You wanted to pay me back for that, didn’t you? You wanted your revenge.”

  “No!” she whispered, her voice threadbare.

  “Yes.”

  At that moment, she knew it was over. He wasn’t prepared to let her explain any of this. He wasn’t even prepared to ask if there were extenuating circumstances, nor give her the benefit of the doubt.

  And could she really blame him?

  Giving a small cry, she spun away and ran from the room. It was over.

  “I’m sorry, figlio mio,” Cesare said, coming up behind Nick and putting his hand on his shoulder.

  “Not as sorry as I am, Dad.” Nick’s gut was one big knot of pain. He’d trusted Sasha. Trusted her like he’d trusted no other woman.

  He should have known she’d let him down.

  Cesare’s mouth tightened. “Santo cielo, I’m going to see Porter myself!”

  Alex jumped to his feet. “No, Dad. We can handle this.”

  Cesare clenched and unclenched his hands. “I want to see his face. He was my friend, and now he’s a traitor.”

  “You’re getting upset, and that’s not good for you. Matt and I will go see Porter. Let Nick take you home.”

  “No,” Nick growled. “I’m going to see Porter.” He had more than a vested interest in all this.

  Alex nodded. “Then Matt can take Dad home.”

  Cesare complained but he was shaken and obviously realized it was best he not be there to confront his now ex-friend. He left with Matt, and Nick and Alex took off for the Blakes’ house.

  Sally turned white when she opened the door to them. It was evident she knew why they were here.

  Porter was eating dinner, and he went white, too, as Nick and Alex strode into the dining room.

  Alex spoke first. “Porter, I’ve come to tell you that we’re filing charges for fraud against you.”

  Sally gave a wailing cry behind them, but they ignored her.

  The older man’s face screwed up. “So Sasha told, did she? I should have known not to trust that daughter of mine. She finds out a couple of days ago and threatens to blow the whistle unless I—”

  Nick stiffened. “What did you say?”

  Porter made a harsh sound. “I said my daughter was going to blow the whistle on her old man. Can you believe it?”

  Nick looked at Porter. “Yes, I can.” Then he looked at Alex, who nodded in understanding.

  “Take my car,” his brother said, tossing the keys at him. “I’ve got a lot more to say to Mr. Blake.”

  Somehow Sasha managed to find some semblance of control by the time Leo dropped her off at home. She’d never been more grateful for the dark glass panel between them as she huddled in the corner of the back seat, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

  Iris took one look at her face and was full of concern. “Mrs. Valente, is there something wrong?”

  Sasha almost laughed out loud. Everything was wrong. And nothing could make it right.

  Not ever.

  “Are you ill? Would you like me to call a doctor?”

  Sasha headed for the stairs. “I’d just like to be alone, Iris.”

  The housekeeper was clearly reluctant to accept that, but inclined her head. “If you wish, Mrs. Valente.”

  “I do.”

  Sasha made her way to the bedroom, sick with anguish. She threw some water on her face, hoping the coldness would take away her inner pain, but knowing it was a losing battle. She was burning up inside, her despair like a flame inside her, growing higher and more intense. An iceberg could not put it out.

  She knew what she had to do. Nick would no longer want her in his house or in his life and she wouldn’t wait around for him to kick her out. He would be glad to see her gone. No doubt he would even get someone else in to oversee the redecorating.

  Her throat tightening, she began to throw some of her things in a suitcase. She would get the rest later. Or better still, leave them for charity. She wouldn’t want any reminders of her marriage.

  Just then there was a tap at the door and she swallowed a moan. “Come in.”

  The housekeeper’s eyes widened when she saw the suitcase on the bed. “Um…your mother’s on the phone, Mrs. Valente.”

  Sasha’s nerves tensed. “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, Iris.”

  “She says it’s urgent.”

  Sasha winced, then realized it was best to take the call. She felt too raw to give her mother the support she needed right now, but once she pulled herself together, she’d manage it in the future.

  Somehow.

  She picked up the phone. “Mum, I—”

  “Sasha, how could you! You said you would give your father until Friday and now you’ve gone and told the Valentes. You’ve betrayed your own family.”

  She then went into a tirade about Porter going to jail and that her daughter had sent him there, and at that moment Sasha finally understood something. No matter what her father did, her mother would always make excuses for him.

  And her daughter would come a poor second.

  Sasha quietly hung up. Her mother was welcome to do what she wanted with her life, but she wasn’t about to help her do that any longer.

  It was over.

  Just like her marriage to Nick.

  There was only one place where she’d found a measure of peace before. She would go back to London. There was nothing for her here.

  Nick drove home as fast as he dared. Last night when Sasha had begged him to make love to her, she must have known something was about to happen. She should have told him the truth. She should have said something.

  Anything.

  Then he remembered how she’d tried to tell him the truth back in the conference room, only he hadn’t wanted to listen. He’d accused her of revenge.

  Dammit all to hell.

  He took the stairs two at a time, not believing Iris’s words that Sasha had packed her things and gone. Then he saw some of her clothes missing from the wardrobe and the dresser now empty of her possessions.

  And he felt empty deep inside.

  So empty he wasn’t sure if he could live without her.

  Not when she’d taken his heart with her.

  He sucked in a
lungful of air. He hadn’t seen it coming, but he loved her. It hit him fair and square between the eyes. He could not deny it.

  And now he couldn’t even tell her. He had no idea where she’d gone, except that he knew she wouldn’t go home. After what he’d seen, her parents wouldn’t want her.

  Well, he did.

  He strode to the telephone beside the bed and called Joyce. He’d turn this city over until he found the woman he loved.

  Twelve

  S asha tightened the belt of her bathrobe, then began toweling her hair dry as she walked into the bedroom. She probably should order something to eat except that she didn’t have an appetite. It was going to be a long time before—

  “Sasha.”

  Her head shot up, her heart slamming against her ribs at the sight of her husband standing in her hotel room. “Nick!”

  Their eyes locked, but she could tell nothing from his expression.

  “Yes, Sasha. It’s me.”

  Her mind tried to take it in. He was here. Oh God, Nick was really here. But how? Why? She dare not hope. No, not even the tiniest bit.

  Placing the towel on the table, she pushed back her wet hair and faced him. “How did you find me?”

  “You used your credit card to book the hotel, and then again for your flight to London tomorrow.”

  She hadn’t thought he’d be looking so she hadn’t given it a second thought. Then she realized why he’d come looking for her. The disappointment was immense.

  She thrust back her shoulders. “Look, if you want more details about my father, you’ve had a wasted journey.”

  “I already know the details.”

  Her forehead creased. Was he playing some sort of game with her? “Then there’s nothing to say.”

  “There’s plenty to say.” He paused and suddenly regret seemed to cut through him. “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

  “S-sorry?”

  “For not trusting you.”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”

  “I shouldn’t have been so quick to believe you’d have anything to do with what your father did.”

  She searched his eyes. “You believe me?”

  “Now I do. But it wasn’t until Porter inadvertently told us your involvement that I realized I’d misjudged you.” He took in a lungful of air. “I’m sorry, Sasha. I’ll say I’m sorry every day for the rest of our lives if that’s what it takes.”