The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire Page 11

  At least financially.

  A few minutes later, Jackie clutched the book to her chest and got up from the table. “I’m going to go call Paul, and tell him I have a…” She glanced at Kane. “What did you call it?”

  “Roadmap for your financial future.”

  “A roadmap for our financial future.” She beamed. “Maybe if he hears that, he’ll see that I’m serious about money, and he won’t be so worried about the wedding.”

  “I know Paul, and I know he’ll feel better if you’re both on the same page with budgets and finances,” Kane said. “I think it will all work out splendidly, as long as you stick to that plan.”

  Jackie leaned down and gave Kane a tight, quick hug, and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. You really are the best man.” Then she bounded off to her room, so fast, she didn’t see the look of surprise on Kane’s face.

  “You’re a miracle worker,” Susannah said.

  “It was nothing.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been lecturing my sister about money for eight years, and yet she still spent and spent like she had an unlimited supply. It’s been a constant source of friction between me and her, and her and Paul. And yet, here you come along, and in five minutes you’ve transformed her.”

  He laughed. “All I did was get her attention. Doesn’t mean it’ll stick, but I think once she gets married, and she and Paul have some serious discussions, things will turn around.”

  “If they could even turn thirty degrees, I’d be happy.” Susannah rose, depositing the dishes into the sink. She ran the water over them, washed the few cups and plates, and loaded them into the strainer.

  She sensed Kane behind her before she saw him. His presence, his cologne, the warmth of his body. She stilled, holding her breath, waiting for what would come next. So very aware of how alone they were now. Would he touch her? Would he kiss her? Or would he simply walk away?

  He reached up and trailed a finger down her neck, a slow, easy touch that—oh, God—set every nerve ending on fire, igniting parts of Susannah’s body that she didn’t even know could come alive. She gripped the countertop and closed her eyes, then tipped her head to one side as Kane leaned forward, brushed the hair away from her neck and pressed his lips to the tender hollow of skin.

  All thoughts of her sister, money and anything resembling reality disappeared. She forgot every reason she had for not getting involved with him. Couldn’t have come up with a single sentence about why walking away from Kane before she got in any deeper would be a good idea. Because—oh, oh—he was here and he was there, and sensations were exploding in her head, along her skin.

  Everywhere.

  A mewl escaped her. Kane trailed the kisses down along her jaw, turning her as he did, brushing up against her lips, but not touching them. Not yet. Anticipation boiled inside her, and Susannah arched against him, her mouth open, waiting, wanting. Needing him.

  His hands cupped her chin, and those eyes—those penetrating blue eyes—captured hers for a long, quiet moment. Then he leaned forward, and kissed her, slowly, sweetly, as if savoring every inch of her.

  He kissed her like a composer writing a symphony. Every nerve ending sang, every touch created a concert. Susannah’s arms reached around his back, held him close, as close as she could, and yet, still, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  Kane drew back, an easy smile on his lips. “What do you say we get back to what we were doing earlier?”

  “I thought we just did.”

  He chuckled. “If I remember right, I bought and paid for your services. And now that the crisis is averted, you’re all mine again.”

  Those four words sent a tempting thrill through Susannah. “And what would you like me to teach you now?”

  He closed the gap between them, his lips a breath away from hers. “To start a fire.”

  Then he kissed her again. And started one of his own.

  CHAPTER NINE

  STONES spit in a wave behind the tires of the rental car as Kane skidded to a stop in front of the cabin. Damn. He saw the guest standing on his porch and the item in her hands, both shadowed by the wooden overhang, and his instincts told him one thing.

  The vacation was over.

  “Wait here a second, will you?” Kane said.

  “Sure.” But Susannah’s face showed her confusion at being left behind.

  What could he say? Sorry to tell you one thing about who I was, but the truth is about to come out? Everything I’ve said has been a lie, but hold on a second before you hate me, I had really great reasons for keeping my identity a secret?

  Instead he didn’t say anything at all.

  The dread in Kane’s stomach grew as he got out of the car, Rover scrambling behind him before he could leave the dog in the car. Kane crossed to the porch of the cabin and greeted Mrs. Maxwell. He watched her face, to see if she recognized him as the Kane Lennox. Had she read the paper? Had she put the pieces together?

  Had she, most of all, called his father? Or had his father finally found him?

  “Mrs. Maxwell. Nice to see you again.”

  The gray-haired woman bent down and greeted the spaniel, who had yet to meet a person he didn’t slobber over with a friendly greeting. Rover swished against her, his tail beating a hello into Mrs. Maxwell’s floral-print housedress. “I see you made a friend with your stray. Did you give him a name?”

  “I’m not keeping him. I’d hoped you might have heard about a missing dog.”

  “Not yet. Or at least, no one has said a word to me. I checked the Chapel Ridge Post, too, and there hasn’t been a single lost dog ad in there all week. Pity, too. He’s such a cute little booger. Someone must be heartbroken.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they are.” So heartbroken they hadn’t even noticed the dog had disappeared. “I’ll hang a sign up downtown or something, then.” Get to the point, he wanted to shout, but he didn’t. Clearly, Mrs. Maxwell hadn’t figured out who he was. To her, he was still another vacationer.

  “Good idea.” She straightened, her gray curls bouncing with the movement, then held out the envelope he’d seen earlier. Even from the car, Kane had recognized the distinctive white envelope and bright colors marking an overnight delivery. “This is for you. It came to the rental office, which is where all the mail for the cabins is delivered. I figured it must be important, which is why I drove it out here myself. What a lucky thing that you came home just after I got here. I was going to leave it by the door if you didn’t come by, but—”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Maxwell.” Kane gave her a pointed look, and took the envelope.

  “Oh, you’re welcome.” She remained standing on the porch, arms crossed. Then she looked at him, at the envelope and back at him. “Aren’t you going to open it? It’s probably pretty important, being one of those overnight things and all. I never get those. I can’t even remember the last time a renter got one.”

  “I know what’s in it,” Kane said. “I’ve been expecting this.” He’d known his father would find him eventually. Elliott Lennox got what he wanted. Every time.

  And what he wanted—what he always wanted—was control over everyone in his life. Especially Kane.

  The sharp edges of the envelope only added to Kane’s resentment. When would his father see his son as a son, not a commodity? Notice him as a blood relative, instead of another stone in the Lennox family necklace?

  Mrs. Maxwell pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Well, I suppose I better get back to the office. I have…” Her voice trailed off, then she cupped a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun. “Oh my. Is that Susannah Wilson in your car?”

  He had never been in such a nosy town. In New York, people walked by and looked right through him. Sure, there was espionage and spying, but it was of the corporate kind. Not the personal kind. “Uh, yeah. She’s…helping me with the dog.”

  “She’s single, you know.” Mrs. Maxwell gave him a knowing nod. “One of our most eligible bachelorettes.”

 
“Thank you again for coming by, Mrs. Maxwell,” Kane said, withdrawing a bill from his pocket and handing it to the woman.

  “What’s this? A tip? Oh, goodness. I don’t expect a tip.” She pushed the money back at him. “This isn’t some big city. We don’t take money for simple things like delivering someone’s mail.” Mrs. Maxwell shook her head and laughed. “This is Chapel Ridge, Mr. Lennox. People here do things just because.”

  Then she headed down his porch toward her car, sending Susannah a friendly wave and a hello as she did.

  Kane marveled at Mrs. Maxwell’s comment. Just because.

  How unlike his world. He’d been wrong. This wasn’t nosiness. It was more…concern. Interest. The beginnings of relationships.

  What Kane had found in Chapel Ridge hadn’t been simply a vacation from his job, a host of new experiences, but also a community of people who embraced each other, supported each other and welcomed strangers as if they were their own family.

  Susannah got out of the car, carrying the takeout they’d picked up at the Corner Kitchen on the way over, and met him on the stoop. “All set?”

  “Yes. Thank you for waiting. Just a little…business to conduct.”

  “For your job?”

  “Yes.”

  “The jewelry store you work for sent you an overnight package?” Susannah cast a dubious glance at the envelope. “You must be pretty important to them if they’re bothering you on vacation.”

  She gave him a suspicious look. Damn. Once again he had said too much, let too many details out. Twisted his cover story a little too many times. “How about an early dinner? I’m starving. And if we can get a fire started, we can break this chill.”

  “Sure. Do you have kindling? Matches?”

  “Check and check.”

  “Then let me show you how to make fire. By the end of the day, you’ll feel like a real caveman.” Susannah grinned, then brushed past him and into the cabin.

  Kane glanced down at the envelope, noting the return address in New York. No matter what happened today, he’d already been reminded that he was still more of a prisoner of his life than ever.

  A shadow had dropped over Kane’s face, and had yet to disappear. Susannah watched the flames flicker across his features, and knew that envelope he’d received earlier had something to do with the change.

  But what? And why?

  She’d heard him tell Mrs. Maxwell he’d been expecting the delivery. Was the arrival of some work during a vacation such an annoyance? Or could the package contain bad news? Even in the close quarters of the cabin, Kane had managed to put distance between them, as if he didn’t want to talk about whatever sat heavy on his mind. Susannah had thought she and Kane had drawn closer over the last few days. Close enough, at least, for him to tell her about something monumental.

  Apparently, she’d been wrong.

  “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked, disrupting her thoughts.

  “Tonight?”

  “The rehearsal. Paul is as nervous as a cat about to take a bath.” Kane chuckled, lightening the tension in his face and shoulders. He slipped into his old self, or at least a closer facsimile. “When I spoke to him about it, he was as antsy as he used to be back in college before a big exam.”

  “Paul got antsy? He’s one of the calmest guys I know—unless of course he’s talking to Jackie about money.”

  Kane rose, hung the fireplace poker back on the rack and crossed to the small efficiency kitchen. He began unpacking the takeout bags from the Corner Kitchen, loading the packages onto the tiny wooden kitchen table. “You didn’t know Paul in college. He was a little…wilder.”

  “And you?” Susannah asked, approaching Kane. “What were you like in college?”

  “Most of the time, I was…subdued and sedate. Well mannered.”

  She scoffed. “Right. Show me a guy who acts like that in college. Especially when there are pretty coeds and beer around? Paul told me a few stories about his years at Northwestern. The edited versions, I’m sure, but I got the impression he went to more than a few parties.” Susannah retrieved some paper plates and plastic silverware from inside one of the cabinets and brought them back to the table, then pulled up one of the two chairs and took a seat.

  Kane settled into the opposite chair, and the two of them began passing the Corner Kitchen dishes back and forth, heaping mashed potatoes, homemade meat loaf, gravy and green beans baked with bacon bits onto their plates. “Paul has stories. Me, not so many.”

  She cocked her head and studied him. “You roomed next door to Paul. Hung out together. How could that be?”

  “I…” Kane pulled a biscuit out of the paper bag, followed by a butter packet, then hesitated before opening it. “I had a chaperone, of sorts.”

  “You? Were you some kind of troublemaker or something?”

  He scoffed. “Not at all. My father just felt like I needed a keeper.”

  “A keeper?” Susannah blinked. Parents still did that kind of thing in the twentieth century? It seemed impossible to believe, yet, it explained a lot about Kane. His inexperience at the simplest of life events. What kind of childhood had the man had? And why? “I can’t imagine having such a strict upbringing.”

  “There were a lot of expectations on my shoulders.” He toyed with the edge of the envelope, still unopened. “There still are, to be honest.”

  “Are some of them in there?”

  He jerked to attention, as if he’d just realized he’d said too much. Then his gaze broke from hers and tension poured like steel into his frame.

  What was with Kane? And for that matter, what was he hiding? Every time she tried to get close, tried to ask more than a few questions, he clammed up and changed the subject.

  She was tired of this “Just Kane,” “Just Susannah” game. She wanted more—a real connection. Even if it was only for a few days, she wanted something more satisfying than a taste of whipped cream. She wanted the whole cake.

  She knew so little about him. A snippet here. A snippet there. As if he was showing her the photo album of his life, but with all the identifying details removed from the images.

  Why?

  Didn’t he trust her? Or was he that intent on leaving at the end of his trip—and leaving all ties to Chapel Ridge behind? “This food is great,” Kane said. “Have you tried the meat loaf? Do you think the owners will sell me the recipe?”

  Now they were talking meat loaf? She wanted to know him, not his preferences in the baked ground beef department. Suddenly, the past days rose to the surface, the frustration threatening to explode.

  “Did you grow up in a bubble or something? Honestly, who has never had meat loaf? It was like a staple in my house, and virtually everyone else’s I knew, too. Every Friday night, like it or not. When I grew up and started making my own dinners, I refused to cook it because I was so tired of eating meat loaf. Now I crave it every once in a while, oddly enough.”

  Kane shook his head. “My mother wasn’t the meat loaf kind.”

  “Whoa, there’s a whole lot of information.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I know almost nothing about you,” she said. “I feel like I’m dealing with a crossword puzzle every time I try to have a conversation with you, Kane. I know you’ve never walked barefoot on grass. Had a keeper in college. Had a dad who ruled your life, and wow, here’s a clue, your mom didn’t make meat loaf. What the heck am I supposed to figure from that?” She rose and spun away from the table, placing her plate on the countertop. “You know almost everything about me and I…” She looked down at the dog sleeping at his feet. “I know more about this stray than I do you.”

  Kane shifted in his chair. Outside, birds called to each other, the breeze sent a branch scraping against the cabin window. Rover raised his head, then went back to sleep. Kane took in a breath, let it out. “You’re right. I have been rather guarded about my life. And I owe you an apology for that.” He ran a hand through his hair, displacing
the dark waves. “If I tell you something, will you keep it between us?”

  She sensed an opening in the wall, a chink about to be removed. “Of course.”

  “My family had a lot of money when I was growing up. So I’m not used to—” he waved around the room “—this. Any of this, especially not meat loaf. Or cheese that comes in packages, or fishing with live worms.” He smiled. “I got a taste of real life, of what could be something close to it, in college when I met Paul and had brief moments of freedom. That’s why I’m here. I’m far too old to keep going through life never really experiencing it. When Paul asked me to be his best man, I seized the opportunity to see the world from the other side of the fence. Carpe diem, and all that.”

  “Then, after the wedding, you plan on going back to New York, to your regular world.”

  “Right.”

  “No strings, no attachments.”

  His gaze met hers. Direct. Honest. “Exactly.”

  Whatever part of Susannah might have hoped for otherwise—if there had been a part—knew now there would be nothing more than these kisses. The dance by the lake. And whatever came of the wedding tomorrow. She should be happy, because she was leaving town herself on Saturday and knew how foolish it would be to hold on to any romantic notices of being whisked away to some hideaway chapel at the end of this week, but nevertheless, a whisper of disappointment ran through her, then settled heavy in her gut.

  He wanted nothing more than these few days.

  He didn’t want her. And that was exactly what she’d thought she wanted, too—

  Until she got it.

  “So,” she said, working a smile to her face, telling herself this was perfect, that people who focused on romance and dreams left themselves open to being hurt, “what else did you want to experience while you’re here?”