Dane - Book 2: A Foster Family Saga Page 2

  Hanna had come from a loving family, grown up in a supportive, if sheltered, environment. She came from money. She wouldn’t really understand the places I had come from, the things I had seen. Even worse, I was embarrassed she might judge me. What if, after hearing the truth about my past, she felt like she was too good for me? It seemed no matter how much money I made, how many fancy cars I owned, how many countries I flew over, there was an inner seed of self-doubt planted by being Sissy and Darien’s son. “Just don’t ask.”

  I directed my eyes at Hanna as she climbed out of the bed and walked across the carpeted floor wearing nothing but her panties. She slid into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. Her body was warm and soft and smelled seductively enticing. “Do you feel I could love you any less if I know?” She smiled. Her eyes studied my face, and I studied hers. Was she telling me she loved me? It was a confession I wasn’t ready to hear spoken out loud.

  I leaned back in the chair, slouching down and allowing my hardness to brush against her inner thighs. She looked down between our bodies at my erection and grinned mischievously. “Don’t try to distract me, Mr. Foster.” She traced along my jaw and ran her fingers around my lips. “You’re afraid that if I get to know you, you won’t live up to my expectations.”

  “I’ve always said my reputation exceeds me.”

  “I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give me. I’ll never beg.”

  My mouth parted as her fingers slid past my lips, and I bit the tip of her thumb. “I’m not asking you to beg. I’m telling you not to ask.”

  “My father was an alcoholic. My mother once posed for a very risqué magazine. We’ve all got a past.”

  I sighed. She was persistent. I wondered if I could truly bare my soul to her. Looking into her green eyes, I felt safer than I had ever felt with any woman. She might use me, discard me eventually. Such was the nature of relationships. But, for now, I imagined I could trust her. What would she say if I told her?

  “Darien Griess was a con artist who lied to me about being my father until I was fifteen years old, and my mother never even stopped him. He stole from people, sold drugs, any scam he could run that might put a little change in his pockets. He was the laziest son of a bitch I’ve ever met in my life, and for most of my childhood I was terrified that I would grow up and be just like him. From the drugs to the schemes to the multiple different women he paraded around in front of my mother. My biggest fear was that I had his genes. Even when I found out it wasn’t true, I still worried. I still worry…that he might have rubbed off on me.”

  I swallowed after the mouthful of ugly words. I closed my eyes and tried to bar the memories. There, I had said it. Deep down inside of me was the monster I could become as a result of being raised by such terrible people. My mother was a weak woman who I grew to be ashamed to call family. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just leave, why she would suffer the humiliation of being abused and treated like shit, letting me get treated like shit. I just didn’t understand.

  “So you see,” I said, “I don’t want to talk about those people. Those people are a part of the old Dane. I’m trying to be somebody new. I know I can do it. All I have to do is forget about the past.”

  She swiped at a tear that trickled down her face, and then kissed my stiff lips. I tasted salt as more tears began to flow. “You’re not like that. You’re not a user. You wouldn’t hurt someone for your benefit, Dane. I know you. I haven’t known you for very long, but I know you.”

  She wrapped me in my arms and cried on my behalf, something no one had ever done. Her words should have been a salve, but they only made me feel worse. I felt her shudder with silent sobs as I held her tighter, not wanting to let her go. If she only really knew…her words made me feel exactly like Darien. I was using her. I was hurting her, and she didn’t even know the knife was poised at her throat.

  I wanted to tell her that I was sorry. I wanted to tell her she was right, that I wasn’t like Griess. On the other hand, Hanna probably wasn’t any different than any other woman out there. Her emotional display of tears was a ploy to appear to care when she couldn’t possibly. She had no idea who I was.

  Our relationship had started off as a ploy to satisfy Lamont with my media relations team. He needed me to have a “good girl” in the public eye. It had been my choice to not only take Hanna out when the cameras were flashing. Though I had promised her aunt that I wouldn’t defile her, I had eventually fucked her of my own free will, too tempting to keep resisting. But I had built up the perfect relationship because I needed to seem like a changed man. I realized that part of me was exactly what I was running away from—I was becoming Darien Griess. How could I not? My life demanded the charade.

  I bit back the words of comfort that almost escaped my lips, because anything I said could tip the balance of our comfortable companionship. I didn’t want to make Hanna promises I couldn’t keep, nor push her away by being too cold, but there was a chance I could fix this. Hanna didn’t need to know what role she was playing in helping my public image. We were leaving Paris in another day. I could take her back to New York and break things off. She’d be none the wiser and never face the truth; I’d be just another guy who turned out not to be the one.

  There couldn’t be a real connection founded on so many lies, and I wondered if the phone call from the woman claiming to be my mother that had chased me all the way to Paris was really the past coming to wreak havoc on my future. I couldn’t take the chance of dragging Hanna into the fray. If it had been my mother that called, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me she’d only be calling for money. Maybe Darien had hit a wall in his usual scams and needed a little fallback cash until he could proceed to the next unsuspecting town. It was always that way with Sissy, standing by her man and doing whatever it took to make sure Darien got what he wanted.

  I pushed Hanna from my lap and wiped my face. “Let’s get out, get some fresh air. Are you up for it?”

  She slid her fingers down into my shirt and laid her hand against my pounding heart. “I think you should know that I can see your weakness and still find you strong.”

  For a second I stopped breathing. How could she be so scripted? A fresh wave of distrust washed over me. All women were the same. I had to be careful with this one, though. She was trying to wriggle her way under my skin. “Thank you,” I mumbled, removing her hand and patting it politely as I retreated back behind the barriers that needed to stay in place for both our protection. This was all a show, a sham. I didn’t want to be, but I was the con man now. I’d learned a trick or two from Darien, though I hated to know I was so skilled at lying to someone like Hanna. “It’s all behind me now, petit. Get dressed and let’s go have some fun.”

  I was mentally preoccupied with how to get out of the faux relationship, but I knew how to keep my smile in place. This week was for kinky sex and living up to my reputation for fucking a woman senseless. I’d deal with what came next when we got to it.

  CHAPTER 2

  Gervais paced around my home office at the manor in Rhinebeck. He was rattling off pertinent business information that I was supposed to be paying rapt attention to, but I was barely present. I stared blankly at the wall behind him, my face resting on two fingers as my elbow leaned on my desk. “And I sent the wedding gift for Simon. Box full of shit, like you requested.”

  I didn’t even blink, didn’t even hear him.

  “Exactly as I thought. You’re not even listening. Sir, you’re more in a fog than I’ve ever seen you. We’ve got some pretty big projects going on right now. I need to know you’re engaged.”

  I snorted and shook my head, finally out of my reverie. “I hear you. What is it?”

  “I sent a wedding gift for Simon and Lynn. I think they’ll be happy with it. It was a vase.”

  “That’s suitable. What was it about the Enfield development, again?”

  “They’re trying to change the terms of the contract. They might po
ssibly have a loophole. Legal is on it.”

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see with that, then.”

  “Excellent, sir. Okay, the last thing: I talked to Tom, and he wants you to start thinking about expansion.”

  “He knows that’s up to Cornelius.”

  “He’s got some lofty ideas.”

  “He’s a conceited prick. He’s good at his job, but he’s trying to step into shoes he can’t fit. Tell Tom I said if he’s so confident about expansion, he needs to take it up with Cornelius. And keep an eye on Tom for me. I hate disloyalty.”

  “Right, right.”

  Gervais took notes in his electronic tablet. I sighed, rose from my desk, and marched across my office to the fully stocked bar. “Care for a drink?”

  He politely declined and sat on the leather sofa. “To be honest, I’m still stumped by that phone call. If your mother really wanted to talk to you, why wouldn’t she call back?”

  I rolled my eyes heavenward and took a swallow of the bracing bourbon. Shaking my head and smacking my lips, I turned to Gervais. “You’re never going to drop this, are you?”

  “Well, aren’t you the least bit curious? It’s your mother, for goodness’ sake.”

  “As I told you before, Gervais, I hired a private investigator years ago. He came up dry. I don’t know what else you expect me to do.”

  Gervais threw his hands up and said, “Try again.”

  I glared at him. I poured another finger of whiskey and took it back with me to the desk. It had been forever since I had had a drink in the middle of the day, but I had a million things on my mind, and I desperately wanted the racing thoughts to slow down. “Fine, Gervais. Here.”

  I dug through my desk and slapped a card on the desktop. It was the information to the PI. I had kept it in the top drawer of my desk, thinking to get rid of it and never quite doing so. I slid it across to him as Gervais moved over to see what I had. “You can call him. Track him down. Talk to him yourself. Get whatever information you want to get out of him, whatever makes you feel like I’ve done my due diligence. And then, when he tells you the same nothing that he told me, maybe we can all rest easier knowing that Sissy and Darien Griess don’t want to be found.”

  I crossed my arms. There was a headache throbbing at my temples. I massaged my forehead and waved Gervais back to work. There were forms that needed to be signed and documents to look over. I had a videoconference to make. I didn’t have time to be sidetracked.

  “I’ll get right on it, sir,” said Gervais.

  ###

  I anticipated it would take my executive assistant quite some time to track down the private investigator and get anything from him, but Gervais was wilier than I had imagined, and a few days later he called me up to tell me he had set up a meeting.

  “He’ll be coming to the manor on Friday morning. I told him my employer was looking to hire the best of the best, to stroke his ego. When I found his office, I was appalled, sir. Really, you need to do a little better research on the people who work for you. The guy worked in the same shopping center as a check-cashing place and a drive-thru funeral parlor!”

  “Yes, I remember,” I said, feeling a touch embarrassed. “I hired him years ago, before I really got pulled into the family business. I had to get what I could afford.”

  Gervais cleared his throat. “Yes, well. I convinced him to meet us at your address, where we can maybe put a little pressure on him and get some answers?”

  “Why, Gervais, you wouldn’t be suggesting I strong-arm him, would you?” I smiled, surprised. I wouldn’t sanction anything of the sort, but it was funny hearing Gervais allude to using such tactics.

  “I’m merely suggesting we make him feel like it’s in his best interest to give you details.”

  “I can work with that. What time is the meeting exactly?”

  “I told him ten o’clock. I’ll be there no later than eight. We’ve got some paperwork you need to look over.”

  “Gervais, what would I ever do without you?”

  “What can I say? You need me.”

  “Eh, don’t get to feeling too irreplaceable,” I teased.

  ###

  I walked into the restaurant in the city where I was meeting Hanna for dinner. We opted to get out of the manor and spend a weekend at my penthouse. But I discovered she wasn’t at our customary table. She waved at me from across the room where she was sitting with a charming-looking couple that I didn’t recognize. I frowned in surprise but joined her and the other young people.

  “What’s this, love?” I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

  She touched my hand and made room for me to pull up a chair. She explained, “I ran into an old boarding school friend. Imagine that! Dane, this is Tempest Bergeron and her partner, Charis Henderson.”

  I smiled at the dark-haired woman and blonde male sitting across from me, but I immediately felt tense. I wasn’t one for double dates, and I certainly didn’t want to share Hanna tonight. I hadn’t seen her in days, since our trip to France. There were things we needed to talk about that couldn’t be discussed in the company of others. Yet I didn’t want to seem rude. Hanna was in good spirits, laughing gaily and chattering with the girl, Tempest. Charis and I shared uninterested looks. I noticed his stylish cravat and finely crafted timepiece.

  “Dane, was it?” he asked. I inclined my head and let him draw me into a conversation while the girls chatted. “So, what do you do? Are you from here or just traveling like us?”

  “I’m from New York. I’m the CEO of Excelsis, handling corporate real estate. What about you?”

  “Tech startup. We’re from Norway. Tempest and I are getting married in a few months, and she wanted a dress from this American designer. Dragged me halfway around the world, so here I am.”

  “Ha! Cheers to the both of you. Congratulations.” Awkward silence descended, or mutually understood silence. We didn’t have a damn thing to talk about, while our girls seemed to be full of things to say to each other. I glanced around the restaurant, feeling oddly like Hanna’s accessory and not really all that comfortable with it. Was this what it was like to be a real couple? I’d heard horror stories from male friends about being forced to make nice with the spouses of their partners’ friends, but I’d never experienced it. Even Lynn’s friends had seemed like extras in a movie starring us. With Hanna, I felt like I was supposed to engage.

  I imagined for a second that the roles were reversed, that Hanna and I were sitting here chatting it up with our close friends. Hanna would announce we were getting married and Charis and Tempest would be so happy for us! And suddenly, a toddler two tables over burst into a loud tantrum that drew everyone’s attention, decidedly out of place in the fine-dining restaurant. The fantasy immediately popped like a soapy bubble too full of hot air. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was about to be getting married and having babies. Not even in my wildest dreams did it seem like something I wanted to do.

  I sat back in my chair and sighed, wishing we could wrap up the dinner date so I could sneak Hanna off to my place.

  “You like sports?” asked Charis.

  “I used to play football. Eh, not soccer.”

  “Ah, well…what about rugby? Lacrosse?”

  “I know a bit about them.”

  “Favorite team?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t really get time to keep up with things like that. Um, do you watch American football?”

  “Dane, Hanna has been telling me all about you. I’m fascinated with your love story,” Tempest cut in. “Where’d you guys meet?”

  I smiled at Hanna, whose hand was on my knee. “We met at a fundraiser at her aunt’s house, actually. Hanna convinced me to run away with her. I thought she was stark raving mad.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to be hearing more about how you two progress,” Tempest replied pointedly.

  My smile tightened, and I figured it was time to convince Hanna we had to leave before anyone else had any crazy ideas a
bout love and marriage. I glanced at the time and drew Hanna’s attention to the late hour. She demurely said her goodbyes, promising Tempest she would keep in touch, and Charis and I shook hands. Hanna and I left them to their meal and exited the restaurant.

  We took a stroll the short distance from the restaurant to my place, rather than calling back my car. Hanna tucked her hand in the crook of my elbow and leaned her head on my shoulder.

  “You looked happy to see your friend,” I said.

  “It was lovely. I’ll have to tell Aunt Ettie. Speaking of my aunt, she asked after you. She said she wants to see you soon. Nothing formal. It seems to me like she looks at you as part of the family now.”

  I eased away from Hanna, feeling the sudden need to put some distance between us. All the talk about being family and seeing how we “progress” had me skittish. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. But, astute as usual, Hanna picked up on my discomfort and laughed in my face. “You silly, silly boy!”

  “What?” I asked sheepishly.

  “At some point you should realize I say what I mean and mean what I say. Didn’t I tell you I was trying to escape the cage? Why on earth would I leap into something as serious as marriage?” She swatted my arm, and I had to laugh.

  “Was it that obvious?”

  “Written all over your face. You looked like you were ready to hightail it down the block away from me. I can’t believe you, Dane Foster.” She giggled and stuck her hand in mine, rubbing her thumb against my palm. “I’ve got a very lucrative job waiting for me in Washington DC. I’m only dallying with you while it’s convenient for me.”