Chapter 6

"He knows everything," she told her aunt quietly. She had stopped by on her way from the magazine when she was summoned. Camelia knew better than to ignore the demand to drop by, and frankly, the idea of being alone in her dreary little home was not appealing.

It was fast approaching fall, and the weather had changed. Rain had dispelled the last of the summer heat, and it had turned cold enough to drive them indoors.

Angela DeWinter was used to the finer things in life. She had not been as visible as her brother, but she had established herself as a patron of the arts and was comfortably wealthy. She had been married three times and decided firmly that it was three times too much for her.

She was also childless, something she did not regret. She loved her niece and had disdained the choice her brother had made when he married her mother. She had seen the destruction heading his way and had warned him against the nuptials, but he had not listened.

"How?" Waving her niece into the chair in front of the silk sofa she was reclining on, she waited for the explanation.

"We- we were together two nights ago." Camelia could not stay seated. She got up from the chair and went to the tray to select a few sandwiches, even though her appetite was not there. "And I know what you are going to say."

"Do you?" Angela pulled the throw rug over her aching knees and wondered if she should perhaps go and pay a visit to her doctor. Getting old was so damn inconvenient, she thought. "And you allowed him to make love to you, igniting the flames already simmering. In doing so, you confessed."

"Yes. He thought I aborted the baby."

Her eyes flared. "How could he think that of you?"

"I don't know, maybe because I left without a word." Balancing the plate on her knees, she picked at the thin bread. "He wants to start back up again. He is insisting on it. His mother told him of her part in the entire thing, and he is upset."

"Of course he is." Angela's dark brown eyes studied the younger woman's face. "And you? What do you want?"

"I love him," she admitted whimsically. "I never stopped loving him. But I cannot be with him, knowing that I would not be able to give him a child. I told him that."

"And it did not make a difference."

"No. I told him I needed time. Several weeks. He gave me one week. I know him, he is stubborn and determined to have his own way. He resents the fact that I took the decision away from him and is determined not to allow it to happen again. He said if I leave, he will come after me."

"Sounds like a man head over heels in love. He surprises me."

She stared at her aunt with a frown. "Why?"

"The boy was gorgeous, an overachiever, one with oodles of money and a family well-placed in society. He could have anyone he wanted, and he became fixated on you. I have to tell you, darling, I don't have a lot of faith in the male population, but I think he might be an exception." Angela stirred her tea.

"Your father was weak–" She shook her head when her niece opened her mouth to protest.

"We are going to talk about it, darling, I insist. Carlton was weak and selfish. He had extreme talent, but he allowed himself to be led by a greedy and selfish woman who flaunted her beauty and talent shamelessly. Fortunately, you took her looks, your beauty surpassed hers and that did not sit well with her.

Even at a very young age, you displayed very fine characteristics; you are strong and honest and the complete opposite of what she and my brother were. She knew it and hated it, so she kept you away from you. In his own self-absorbed way, he loved you, and she could not bear the competition."

"That's an awful thing to say about the dead who are not here to defend themselves. And in spite of their many faults, they were my parents."

"You know what I say is the truth," Angela told her bluntly. "They destroyed your life as if they had turned the gun on you. But you are very strong, as I said, and I admire your ability to bounce back." Taking a sip of the tea, she eyed her niece over the cup. "You should go and be with him."

"What?"

"Hayes Marsden loves you. I doubted that before, thinking that a man like him would not–" She shook her head. "But you are an exquisitely beautiful woman and not shallow like your mother was. You have excellent qualities, which makes it easy for men to be drawn to you. More importantly, he loves you and you love him," she smiled slightly.

"You suffered for years after the miscarriage. I watched you become withdrawn, and the sparkle of life that had been so much a part of you disappeared. Even when you started going out, there was nothing there and it's because of him. You love him, darling, and for love to outlast those awful things in your past, I'd say it has stood the test of time."

"I cannot be with him!" she said forcefully, hating her aunt for giving her hope. "I will not be able to give him a child."

"You don't know that."

"The doctors could be wrong."

"I cannot take that chance."

Her aunt gave her a shrewd glance. "You are afraid. I recalled how broken up you were about the loss of the baby and how you found it very difficult to get out of bed. You are afraid to hope because your dream is to have a child to love—his child."

"Yes," she whispered. "When I discovered that I was pregnant, the first thought was that I wanted this baby; the second was that our lives would be ruined. But the very first thought was that of excitement. I did not care about putting aside our dreams to carry that baby into the world.

When it happened with Mom and Dad, I was scared, I still am, that I would be like them, that I was tainted, had inherited their genes. But yes, I wanted that baby so much, I could taste it. And now I am afraid to hope. I cannot take the risk."

"Then what are you going to do, hon?"

"I have no idea," she admitted with a breathless laugh. "He is determined to do this and I- I am not strong enough to resist. I will take the week and sort things out inside my head."

*****

"You obviously made an impression, my dear." Celeste swept into her office without knocking.

"What do you mean?"

"The article you wrote about the acquisition of Southern Airlines by Marsden was well received. I suspect that's why you were issued an invitation to their celebration party, which will be held on Saturday at the Plaza Hotel."

"I did not receive an invitation," Camelia pointed out. She had not heard from Hayes since he warned her of his intention.

"It was sent to me personally." With a flourish, Celeste handed her the pale yellow envelope. "It's a formal event and I received one as well. I am looking forward to seeing you there and I was thinking that we could do a follow-up story." With a wave, she was gone.

Taking out the invitation, she studied the raised embossed letters and the glossy print. She would not go, of course. This was Hayes' way of forcing her hand. She still had three days left of the week he had given her, and she was not going to be forced into doing something she did not want to do.

With a militant look on her face, she reached for her phone and called his private number.

"Camelia."

"I will not be attending your little soiree, and I am just calling to let you know," she told him firmly.

"It's far from little. Acquiring Southern is a major coup, and the party has been arranged as a celebration. Your presence there will be a pleasure."

"I have done my part, and it's over. I know what you are doing."

"And what is that?"

She glared at the opposite wall in frustration. "Hayes, I need time–"

"I am giving you time. I have not called and demanded to see you, have I?"

"Yet here I am with an invitation in my hand, sent to Celeste instead of me. Won't your girlfriend be there?"

"She will be," he responded calmly. "She was invited several weeks ago, and I cannot change it. I am still with her because of you."

"Don't you dare put that on me! You are with her because you want to hedge your bet. Have you slept with her? I am sorry—that's none of my business." A headache was brewing, and she felt as if she had lost what little control she had of her life.

"I have not seen Simone since you and I were together. And I am not doing this to 'hedge my bet' as you so eloquently put it. I meant what I said, Cammy. I intend to be with you, and that's final. Get it through your brain that I am not going to stand back and allow you or anyone else to keep us apart. Wear something sexy. I have to go."

He hung up before she could blast him. Damn him! she thought furiously. Hayes Marsden was like a damn boulder, and whenever he made up his mind, there was no moving him.

Putting away the invitation, she tried to get back to work.

*****

Putting aside his personal feelings, Hayes sat across from the man and nodded to the hovering waiter. "I took the liberty of ordering the roast."

"Thanks." Bart Silver unfolded his napkin slowly, making a production out of the simple movement, and therefore, showing his nerves.

"You seem unsettled, Bart. Is there a reason?" Reaching for his glass of water, Hayes took a sip, keeping his eyes on the man across from him. "It wouldn't have anything to do with what my investigators discovered, would it?"

"I don't know what you think I did–"

"Not think. Know." Hayes waited until the meal had been placed in front of them before resuming the conversation. "You were the one who fed the information to the press, therefore causing unrest. You were also the one seen meeting with Gaston Blackwood, and I am guessing it was not to ask him to tea."

"We are friends–"

"I know that now. Eat." Hayes waved a hand at the untouched food in front of him. "How long have you been employed at Marsden?"

The man swallowed the lump inside his throat and took a swallow of the water in his glass. "Twenty years."

"My dad gave you a chance when you were kicked out of the company you were working for. Frankly, I think he did himself a disservice. But he always had a very good heart."

"Gaston did not deserve–"

"He deserved every damn thing he got and more, but I must have inherited some of dad's big heart because I offered him leniency. You, on the other hand–" Hayes deliberately left the sentence unfinished, watching as fear filled the man's face.

"What is going to happen to me?" he whispered. "All I was loyal to was a friend."

"At the peril of a company that puts food on your table and pays for the expensive schools your children attend. We were there when your wife was diagnosed with cancer, and support was offered.

Mother found the best oncologist and insisted the company stands the cost for the treatments. Was that not enough? What more could you expect from us? A seat on the board perhaps?"

"Yes," the man hissed, "You promoted Michael Grant to that of senior vice president, and I have been there longer."

"I see." Putting his utensils down, Hayes faced him squarely. "So now we get to the crux of the matter. You feel slighted. You want to know why you were not promoted? You show a lack of initiative.

You did the bare minimum, and you demanded a lot. You did not deserve the position, which was not based on seniority but rather on performance, mostly on performance.

You have been falling short over the years, Bart, and we have been watching you." He paused to allow that to sink in. "There is also the question of your drinking and gambling."

The man actually blanched and turned white. "I- I- I am attending meetings."

"You are in an enormous amount of debt, and you have attended meetings only twice."

Bart blinked, his chest swelling, his hands trembling with fear. "You have been watching me."

"Of course," Hayes offered mildly. "We do that whenever we detect suspicious behavior with an employee. Not to mention the fact that you are a senior employee and in a key position, which leaves the company open and vulnerable to rival companies getting information from you."

"I am trying to do better." His lips trembled, light green eyes pleading. "I have no way to support my family–"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to throw your life away." Hayes studied the man for a moment before making a decision. "Your wife and children certainly do not deserve your spectacular failure in life.

We will speak to the people holding your debt, and you will go into therapy for this addiction of yours. We will also give your children scholarships in order for them to finish their education. But your services are no longer required."

"I promise to do better–"

"I am sure you believe that. My decision is final. Take it or leave it."

*****

Camelia took the glass of wine with her into the living room. It had rained earlier, and the weather had dropped drastically. It was almost Thanksgiving, a holiday she was not looking forward to. It reminded her of happier times.

Pulling the lapels of the robe around her, she settled back against the cushions and folded her legs beneath her. She was working on a piece and did not have the heart to finish it. The story was not coming together, and she knew why.

The earlier conversation with Hayes had unsettled her and was making her restless. And she missed him. There was no denying it. Ever since he made love to her in his office, she could not stop yearning for his touch.

The feel of his lips on her nipples, the very thought of it, had the buds tightening. "Oh, for God's sake!" she whispered. Finishing the wine, she was about to go up to bed when she heard the heavy pounding on the door.

She did not have friends, and her aunt would not just pop over; it was not her style. So, it was a religious fanatic wanting to impart the good news at ten p.m. at night—her heart started pounding inside her chest as the obvious possibility presented itself. The increase in her heart rate was almost suffocating her.

Putting the glass down, she made her way to the door and did not have to use the peep hole to know who was standing there.

Unlocking the door, she opened it and felt her knees going weak. His hair was damp from the drizzle still coming down. He had on a light cashmere jacket that fluttered in the wind and he was so scrumptious she wanted to devour him whole.

"Well?" he cocked an amused brow at her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Stepping back, she allowed him entry before closing and securing the door. Sweeping past him, she went into the living room to stand in the center of the room. "What are you doing here, Hayes? I still have three more days–"

"About that." Shrugging out of his coat, he slung it carelessly over the arm of the rocking chair and took off his suit jacket. She watched as he loosened his tie and took that off too. When he started unbuttoning his shirt, she stiffened in alarm.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he asked her mildly as he finished undoing the buttons. Taking off the shirt, he added it to the pile of clothing before sitting down and taking off his shoes.

"I spent an hour just driving around and telling myself that it was reasonable to wait for the next three days. I said to myself that I owed her that after what went on between us."

He rose, and she watched spellbound as he unhooked his belt and eased down his zipper. "She has been through so much; she needs time to adjust to the new reality of me being back in her life. I had the argument down pat and was about to drive home when it struck me."

"What?" Her throat was dry, and heat was already invading her body. He had taken off his dark blue dress pants and slung them over the chair. And he was aroused, fully engorged from the looks of it.

"It was ridiculous." He took off the underwear, his magnificent body in full display. "All of it, and I was a fool to agree in the first place. Come here, sweetheart."

"Hayes, we need to talk–"

"There has been way too much talking going on. Come here," he repeated hoarsely. "I have been denied the pleasure of having you for twelve years, and the other night, you gave me a taste, and I am addicted. I have been addicted for years. I cannot and will not deny myself any longer."

"Do I have a say in any of it?" she asked faintly.

"You do. Tell me where to touch you, where to kiss you, where to—Let me show you."

She went. How could she not? The entire time she had been here thinking about him, about being with him. It was as if she had conjured him up. Walking into his arms, she closed her eyes as he wrapped his hands around her with stunning force.

At first, they just stood there, savoring each other, the scents, and the feel of his flesh seeping through the material of the robe.

Then suddenly, the robe was pooling around her feet, her bare flesh pressed against his.

"Cammy," he groaned. Lifting her chin up, he gazed into her eyes, his body reacting to the passion on her exquisite face. "How the hell did I survive without you all those years?" Without waiting for a response, he bent his head and kissed her until she was melting against him. Her arms came around his neck as she surrendered completely.

*****

His head was resting on her left breast, his fingers circling the indentation of her navel. The lovemaking had been rough, and they were still trying to catch their breaths.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," she murmured, combing her fingers through the thickness of his blonde hair. She was not used to seeing it like this, groomed and stylishly cut, but she supposed with his position, he had to make a change.

"Noted," he murmured, completely content and sated for the moment.

"Hayes, we have to think this through."

"Absolutely." He was trailing a fascinating path from her navel to the hairs covering her sex and making it difficult for her to concentrate, which was probably his intention.

"The first time I went down on you, you cried."

"That's because I thought it was nasty."

"And you were ashamed of your reaction." Lifting his head, he shifted so that he could see her eyes. "You begged me not to do it again."

"And you demanded to know why," she remembered with a whimsical smile.

"You lied to me and said you didn't like it. As if I couldn't see the result on your face, the way you reacted and how you screamed out my name." He trailed a finger down her cheek, his touch gentle.

Everything about her intrigued him. He marveled that she was so unlike her parents. Being the child of celebrity parents had not corrupted her one bit. She was open and honest and kind and that was what had attracted him in the first place.

Not even the obvious sign that her mother had been jealous of her had not left a negative impression on her. Camelia had a big heart, and nothing had dented it. Turning her to face him, he kissed her on the lips gently. "Marry me."