The Wade Dynasty Page 6

  ‘Believe it or not,’ he drawled hardly, ‘I like the lady. I wasn’t being critical just now.’

  ‘It just sounded that way,’ she retorted harshly.

  ‘Only if you’re biased,’ he grated. ‘Why don’t you date, Brenna?’

  She stiffened at the unexpectedness of the question; she had thought he had let Carolyn’s comments about her social life pass by. She should have known better! ‘I date,’ she told him calmly. ‘When I choose to.’

  ‘But nothing serious?’ he persisted.

  ‘As Carolyn said, I had a nasty experience early on in life,’ she looked at him pointedly.

  His eyes narrowed to icy slits. ‘There was nothing nasty about that night. In fact, I’ve wanted to repeat it ever since,’ he added softly.

  Brenna’s expression froze. ‘I’m sure there’ve been plenty of other women to fill your bed since then!’

  ‘A few,’ he conceded drily. ‘But that doesn’t mean they have,’ he added harshly at the contemptuous curve of her lips.

  ‘My friends used to find you a fascinating topic of conversation, Nathan,’ she dismissed. ‘I think they worked it out that the longest you’d gone without a woman was two months; and that was only because you’d broken your leg skiing!’

  ‘Six weeks,’ he ground out. ‘One of the nurses was very obliging.’

  ‘Even more reason for me to know you haven’t been alone the last sixteen months.’

  ‘Didn’t Lesli tell you?’ he scorned. ‘As I recall, you used to tell each other everything.’

  ‘I made it clear I wasn’t interested in knowing!’

  Nathan released his breath in a ragged sigh. ‘Maybe we should start this conversation all over again?’ he muttered. ‘How was your father?’

  ‘You don’t really want to know,’ she said crossly.

  ‘I am interested, damn you,’ he said intently.

  ‘Do the Wades need the satisfaction of knowing how their victim fared after a savaging from them?’

  ‘Brenna, you’re under a misapprehension concerning our involvement with your father’s—’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she rasped, turning away. ‘And he’s well, very well.’

  She wasn’t aware how vulnerable the taut set of her shoulders was at that moment, but the man watching her was, and he reached for her instinctively.

  ‘No!’ He held her firm as she would have escaped him, turning her to press her face against his chest, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek as it rested against her. ‘I need this,’ he groaned into her hair. ‘I think we both do!’

  ‘Nathan, don’t!’ choked Brenna just before the firmness of his mouth moved softly over hers and the protests melted away as her body responded to a demand of its own too long denied.

  Drugging kisses, ever deeper and deeper, put her mind awash, as the force of Nathan’s desire pressed against the flatness of her stomach, the softness of her breasts flattened against his chest as his hands cupped her face and he drank from her mouth, sipping, thirsting, taking his fill.

  A doorbell can be a shrill intruder to lovers long denied each other, and Brenna murmured protestingly at its insistent ringing, nuzzling demandingly against Nathan’s mouth.

  Finally he raised his eyes. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’

  ‘No one. Except—Lesli!’ she realised desperately, pulling out of Nathan’s arms to run and open the door.

  Lesli, poor unhappy, very pregnant Lesli, threw herself into Brenna’s arms. ‘I can’t go back there,’ she sobbed. ‘I can’t!’

  Brenna let her cry in her arms, too relieved to at last have her sister here to notice when Nathan appeared in the doorway behind them. Lesli’s natural beauty had begun to glow during her pregnancy, her shoulder-length black hair was thick and shining, the hazel of her eyes clear and glowing with health, and she did not seem to have put on any weight other than the gentle swell that was her baby. But the ravages of the last few days showed in the unhappy droop to her mouth, her pale cheeks and the shadows in the depths of her eyes.

  Finally Lesli was the one to see Nathan as he watched them with narrowed eyes. ‘Nathan—!’ she gasped accusingly, stepping back from Brenna, looking poised for flight. ‘What’s he doing here?’ she demanded.

  Brenna felt a sharp stab of pain at her sister’s mistrust. So much for Nathan’s claim that Lesli liked him; she looked as if she wanted to run from both of them at the moment!

  ‘That’s a silly question,’ Nathan scolded firmly, moving to take Lesli’s arm and direct her away from the open doorway and through to the lounge. ‘We’ve all been concerned about you,’ he reproved once he had sat her down on the sofa.

  ‘Even Grant?’ she said harshly, her eyes rebellious, her mouth quivering emotionally.

  ‘Especially Grant,’ he told her firmly.

  ‘I suppose that’s why you’re here and he isn’t?’ she said bitterly.

  Nathan glanced at Brenna for help, their own conflicts forgotten, even that lightning passion they had shared in each other’s arms minutes ago, in the need to reassure Lesli that they all loved her and wanted to help her.

  Brenna moved down on to her knees in front of her sister, taking her chilled hands into her own. ‘I’ve spoken to Grant, Lesli,’ she told her softly. ‘He’s very worried.’

  ‘About me or his child?’ Lesli rasped.

  Brenna looked up at Nathan as she heard his sharp intake of breath, guessing the reason his eyes glazed over coldly as he returned her gaze; Lesli had almost repeated word for word her own scorned comment of yesterday! Surely he couldn’t really think she… Who gave a damn what he thought, she dismissed hardly; Lesli was the important one.

  ‘Lesli, you know Grant loves you.’

  ‘No,’ Lesli cut in coldly. ‘I thought he loved me. I was wrong.’

  ‘Lesli, whatever he’s done—’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Lesli answered Nathan in a hard voice.

  ‘Darling, you have to—’

  ‘No,’ Lesli shook her head dully. ‘I don’t even want to think about it.’

  Brenna turned helplessly to Nathan; she had never seen her sister like this before, so uncaring, so hardened. She didn’t know how to deal with it.

  ‘Lesli, I’m going to telephone Grant now,’ Nathan told her briskly.

  She stiffened. ‘I don’t want to speak to him,’ she quivered.

  ‘No one is asking you to do that,’ he rasped. ‘But since he’s your husband I think he at least deserves to be told that you’re safe. No one even knows where you’ve been the last four days.’

  ‘I went to Oxford. I… we used to live there, when we were children,’ Lesli revealed abruptly.

  It hadn’t even occurred to Brenna that her sister would go there, and she gave Nathan a look of apology for not thinking of it. Lesli had always liked Oxfordshire; she should have realised she might go there.

  ‘We have to call Grant now,’ she squeezed Lesli’s hand reassuringly. ‘But you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Lesli shook her head in jerky movements.

  Brenna shrugged in Nathan’s direction as he made the call, concern for her sister etched into her face as she watched her anxiously. Whatever had gone wrong between Lesli and Grant was much more serious than she had thought, and she half believed the claim she had made to her father about pregnant women being over-emotional. Lesli was calm—too calm.

  She could hear Nathan’s half of the conversation with his brother, guessed that Grant wanted to talk to Lesli from the glances Nathan kept shooting their way as he refused the request. For all the notice Lesli took of the exchange it might not have been taking place.

  Nathan put his hand over the mouthpiece as Grant must have insisted he speak with his wife. ‘Lesli?’ he frowned.

  She shook her head firmly, her mouth set mutinously as she didn’t even glance at him.

  ‘He says if you won’t come back to Canada, he’s coming here,’ Nathan told
her softly.

  Panic filled Lesli’s eyes. ‘I don’t want him here!’

  ‘That doesn’t seem to be bothering him at the moment,’ Nathan drawled.

  ‘No,’ she acknowledged bitterly. ‘Brenna?’ she questioned sharply.

  Compassion softened Brenna’s eyes, and she felt far older than her sister at that moment than two years younger. ‘I think you should go back,’ she encouraged softly.

  Lesli’s fingers clutched painfully at her hands. ‘Only if you’ll come with me!’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Brenna!’ Nathan rasped warningly.

  He didn’t know what he was asking, neither of them did. But Lesli needed her, and her own feelings about returning to Canada had to come far second to that. She wordlessly nodded her head in agreement, wishing she hadn’t seen that blaze of triumph in Nathan’s eyes before he turned away to assure Grant that the three of them would be returning to Canada.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CALGARY looked like most of the other western Canadian cities, as if it had been built with the sweat and hard labour of many men, a long sprawling city in the foothills of Alberta, with skyscrapers surrounding the tower in the centre of the city that owed most of its wealth and prosperity to the oil that had been found in the province, and reaching out in pretty housing complexes towards the distant Rockies themselves. It was a city that always seemed alive and humming. The usual local garb of denims and casual shirts, often worn with the customary slouched hat, for men, gave a deceptive impression of naïveté. The people of Calgary and its surrounding small towns just liked it that way.

  The Wade ranch was about fifteen miles from town, the house itself being built on top of the hill, comprised mainly of windows, so that whatever way you looked you were confronted by the towering Rockies and Calgary itself.

  Cattle grazed as far as the eye could see, a dozen or so horses exercising in a field neighbouring the house. It all looked very much as it had a year ago, and yet Brenna could feel her tension rising as Nathan stopped the Camaro in front of the house, having advised Grant to wait at the ranch before confronting Lesli. Which was perhaps as well, as her sister was tired and irritable and would probably have caused a scene if Grant had been waiting in the airport when they got through Customs.

  Nathan came round to the front of the car to help Lesli out of the low vehicle, pushing the seat forward so that Brenna could climb out of the back. The sky was a still calm blue in early evening, the air crisp and warm, and she breathed it in deeply before they all entered the house to confront Grant.

  He came out into the reception area to meet them. Lesli took one look at him, burst into tears, and ran down the hallway of the bungalow house to her bedroom, the door closing firmly.

  ‘That was a good start,’ Grant said shakily. The last few days had been a strain on him too, by the look of the tautness of the skin across his high cheekbones, his eyes dull with pain. ‘Should I go to her, do you think?’ He looked uncertainly at Brenna.

  It was testimony to how much Lesli’s leaving had shaken him that he should voice such a question; ordinarily he had as much self-assurance and arrogance as Nathan. ‘Maybe not just yet,’ Brenna advised gently; Lesli hadn’t told her what had happened to make her leave her husband of four years, not during the long night hours when they had shared her bed, nor during the long flight back here, and she didn’t believe Lesli was ready to talk to Grant just yet either. ‘I’ll take her some dinner on a tray, and then maybe tomorrow…’

  ‘Yeah, maybe tomorrow.’ Grant turned away defeatedly, and the study door closed behind him.

  ‘Nathan?’ Brenna turned to him in confusion, her expression pained.

  His mouth twisted into the semblance of a smile. ‘Not much of a homecoming for you.’

  She knew what he meant, and he wasn’t being his usual sarcastic self. In the past there had been arguments and disputes, usually with her in the thick of them, but it had never been like this the family, what was left of it, was falling apart.

  ‘We’ll survive,’ she said softly. ‘I—Mindy!’ she greeted warmly as the housekeeper came into the hallway. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’

  ‘Brenna.’ The elderly woman stiffly accepted her hug. ‘Your old room has been prepared—unless you would prefer a different one?’

  ‘No—no, that will be fine.’ Brenna frowned at the other woman’s hardness. Because of Christine Wade’s long and finally fatal illness, Mindy Fletcher had taken the two Wade boys under her wing and become like a second mother to them, and when Lesli and Brenna had arrived looking like a couple of confused birds who had fallen out of their nest, she had extended that same warmth to them; that warmth was no longer there, Mindy treating her like a guest rather than part of the family. It really wasn’t much of a homecoming!

  ‘Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, if you would like to wash up,’ Mindy instructed.

  ‘I thought I’d take a tray to Lesli.’

  ‘I can do that,’ Mindy told her abruptly. ‘There’s no need to trouble yourself.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Unless you don’t think Lesli would like to see me?’ The elderly woman arched greying brows. Her dark curly hair had a similar peppered effect, and her weathered face was kind, but stern. And if she ever wore anything else but trousers and a blouse beneath a blue or brown smock Brenna had never seen it.

  ‘I’m sure she would,’ she assured the housekeeper gently. ‘I just—’

  Mindy turned away to return to the kitchen, where she could be heard muttering something about ‘flighty young girls who didn’t know when they had it good’!

  Nathan grinned at Brenna as she turned to look at him with questioning eyes. ‘Mindy has never forgiven you for not coming home to live last year,’ he drawled, starting to walk up the stairs with her cases to the attic room that had always been Brenna’s, while Brenna trailed halfheartedly behind him. ‘And I’m afraid Lesli leaving Grant has put the Jordan women right out of favour!’ he added drily.

  ‘I gathered,’ she grimaced, following him into the room at the top of the stairs. The windows extended to the sloping roof in this one room. She had always loved to draw, and before she arrived ten years ago Patrick Wade had ordered that this room be made into a bedroom-studio for her. Everything looked the same as it always had, the pretty rose and cream of the decor not in the least detracted from by the easels and work-benches in the other section of the room.

  She had a little difficulty looking at the bed, considering what had happened the last time she had lain beneath the pink lace canopy. But Nathan didn’t seem to be bothered by the same memory as he stacked her cases on the ottoman at the foot of her bed, so Brenna forced them from her mind too.

  ‘I have a few phone calls to make before dinner,’ he told her tersely. ‘But as Mindy is on the warpath I wouldn’t be late down.’

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I think I’ll just freshen up and then go and see Lesli anyway; she might feel like talking now she’s back home.’

  Nathan’s mouth twisted. ‘That wasn’t the impression I got.’

  ‘Nor me,’ she frowned. ‘I’m sure all this can’t be good for the baby.’

  ‘I’ll see about getting her an appointment to see the doctor as soon as possible,’ he nodded grimly. ‘She didn’t look too well to me on the flight over.’

  She hadn’t to Brenna either, seeming to sleep too much for her sister’s peace of mind. And if Lesli’s mad flight to England had harmed the baby in any way, Brenna knew her sister would never forgive herself; she badly wanted the baby she had waited so long to conceive.

  ‘Don’t look so worried.’ Nathan gently touched her cheek with a calloused hand. ‘I’m sure everything is going to work out.’

  It was evidence of how weary she was herself that Brenna pressed weakly against that hand, offering no resistance when Nathan put a hand beneath her chin to lift her face up to his and claim her mouth with his own.

  Like a moth to a flame, sh
e thought bitterly, as her mouth tingled from the caress and her body caught fire. Nathan growled low in his throat at her lack of resistance, his arms about her like steel bands as he moulded her body into his.

  ‘I’ve brought you up a tray of coffee.’ Mindy banged the tray down on the dressing-table, and Brenna and Nathan instantly pulled apart.

  Brenna turned to the older woman with burning cheeks. ‘Thank you. I… Please don’t misunderstand—’

  ‘It’s none of my business if Nathan chooses to make a fool of himself,’ Mindy snapped disapprovingly. ‘Again,’ she added disgustedly, before closing the door behind her with a firm thud.

  Brenna frowned her embarrassed confusion. That she had allowed the kiss to happen was bad enough, but that Mindy should witness it somehow made it worse, her harshly spoken comments barbed if not understood.

  ‘She’s better than a cold shower,’ Nathan said ruefully. ‘Much more effective.’

  ‘Nathan—’

  ‘I know,’ he sighed. ‘The kiss should never have happened. You don’t know why it did. Let’s forget the whole thing,’ he added derisively.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed simply.

  ‘It’s already forgotten,’ he dismissed hardly, striding to the door. ‘Drink your coffee before it gets cold,’ he instructed coldly.

  It was easy, much too easy, to say the kiss should never have happened, and to forget it! It had happened, and after all her certainty that she had despised Nathan. She did despise him, but the desire she had feared, in herself and in him, was still there. And it could rage out of control at any time.

  But this time she couldn’t run away from it; she had to think of Lesli and the baby. She had told her father she was going to Canada to spend a few weeks with Lesli before the baby was born, and because of the fraught situation between Grant and Lesli she knew she had no choice but to go through with that. She would just have to make the best of the situation and ignore Nathan when she could. Which was virtually impossible.

  She showered and changed while she drank down several cups of the coffee—the Wades had never been a family to dress for dinner, and her black trousers and dark green blouse were casually comfortable, her height added to by high-heeled sandals, her hair secured in a loose knot on top of her head; it was cooler that way.