Fortune's Mergers

As if sensing her increasing need, he cupped a hand behind her knee and drew her leg over his. “I won’t hurt you,” he said again, shifting his hips against hers.

Closing her eyes against the heat that threatened to consume her, she nodded.

She felt the nudge of his sex at her opening, and her breath snagged in her lungs.

“Breathe,” he urged against her lips. “Just breathe. Let yourself go.”

The pressure of his hips against hers increased as he pushed slowly inside. Gasping, desperate to escape this ache that thrummed so deeply inside her, she arched, and he slid a little deeper. One of his hands fanned her buttocks, holding her against him, the other cupped her face. She could feel his breath against her lips, hear the huskiness in his voice, as he murmured words of encouragement.

He inched deeper and met resistance.

“Trust me, baby,” he whispered as he clasped her buttocks between his hands. Holding her in place, he pushed his hips forward. She gasped, as pain, red hot and searing, shot through her. A split second later it was gone, giving way to the most incredible flood of sensations.

This is what it means to become one, she thought in wonder, as she struggled to absorb what was happening to her. The most intimate of joinings. Awed by the experience, she opened her eyes, needing to create a visual connection with Case, as well as the physical one they shared, and found him watching her. His face was taut with restraint, his eyes dark with passion. A fine sheen of perspiration beaded his upper lip and his chest. She knew without asking what his self-control was costing him.

Her heart melted at the sacrifice he was willing to make for her, the gentleness with which he had handled her. Looping her arms around his neck, she drew his mouth to hers. “Don’t hold back,” she whispered against his lips. “Give me everything.”

With a groan, he rolled her to her back and surged deeper, his hips pumping against hers in a rhythmic dance Gina found easy to follow. Pressure slowly built inside her, squeezing the breath from her lungs, closing her throat. She felt Case tense, his body going as rigid as steel, the tremble in the legs clamped against hers, the quiver of arms he’d braced at either side of her face.

Eyes now open wide in wonder, she watched the passion build on his face, felt the shudder of release that shook him from head to toe, heard the low growl he emitted and absorbed the sound as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Like a sail that had lost its wind, he sank slowly down over her, with a sigh, and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

Touched by his concern, it took her a moment to find her voice.

“Yes,” she whispered, then wrapped her arms around him and held him close, knowing how inadequate the word was, how incredibly short it fell of describing her true feelings.

With their hearts beating in rhythm, she closed her eyes and slept.

Gina decided she much preferred being awakened by a man than an alarm clock. Butterfly kisses on her eyelids, light strokes of his hands over her belly, whispered words that both seduced and intrigued. Snuggled close against Case’s side, she was more than willing to spend the entire day like this.

“Well, well, well.”

Gina was so relaxed, so content, it took her a moment to realize that a third person had joined her and Case in her bedroom. When she did, she popped up like a jack-in-a-box to find Zoie standing at the foot of her bed. Mortified that she’d been caught naked in bed with Case, she grabbed the covers and clutched them to her chin.

Case didn’t seem to suffer the same embarrassment. He sat up, stretching like a cat.

“Good morning, Zoie.”

“Yes it is,” she agreed, then dropped her gaze to the point where the covers gathered loosely at his waist and smiled. “And it’s getting better by the minute.”

Pursing her lips in annoyance, Gina snatched the covers to hold up high on Case’s chest. “You might’ve knocked first,” she snapped irritably.

“I did,” Zoie replied, then shrugged. “Guess you couldn’t hear it over all the heavy breathing.”

Irritated that her friend seemed to be enjoying her discomfort, Gina narrowed an eye at her. “What do you want?”

“Just dropped by to see if it was true,” Zoie replied, then grinned. “But I can see that it is.”

“What’s true?” Gina asked impatiently.

Zoie tossed the newspaper she held onto the bed. “See for yourself,” she said, then turned for the door with a casual, “Call me later,” tossed over her shoulder.

Her modesty forgotten, Gina snatched up the paper and flipped it open to find the headline Merger Of Fortunes and beneath it read, Author of children’s books pens her own fairy-tale ending. A stock photo of Case from the newspaper’s files was pictured alongside a publicity photo of her. The publicity pic was one her publisher had requested, in which she held a stuffed Timothy Toad at arm length’s, her lips puckered, as if she was about to kiss him.

Sickened by the sensationalistic slant to the announcement of their engagement, she shifted her gaze back to the headline. How could Case do this to her? she asked in disbelief. Had he been so sure of her answer, himself, that he would release the news to the paper before he’d even proposed?

“Why?” she cried softly, then turned to him, tears blurring her vision. “How could you do this to me?”

“Do what?” he asked in confusion.

She shoved the paper at him and pushed from the bed. “How could you do such a thing?” she cried. “Is your ego so big you never doubted for a minute that I’d say yes? That no woman would ever say no to the mighty Case Fortune?”

Frowning, Case dragged the paper onto his lap. He swore under his breath as he read the headline, then slapped the back of his hand against the paper. “Do you really think I’m responsible for this?” he asked angrily.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me who leaked the news to the paper! I had no idea you intended to propose last night.”

He glared at her a long moment, his jaw clenched, then he heaved a sigh and stretched out a hand. “Come here.”

She hesitated a moment, not sure she wanted to touch him. Not after he’d turned their engagement into a media circus.

“Gina,” he said firmly.

Though reluctant, she put her hand in his and allowed him to draw her back to bed.

He draped an arm around her and pressed his lips to her hair. “I’m sorry, darling. I know this isn’t the way you probably dreamed of having your engagement announced to the world. What woman would? But I didn’t leak the news to the paper. I swear, it wasn’t me.” Sighing wearily, he rested his forehead against her head. “We need to go and see your father. I’m sure he’s seen this by now and is probably furious with me for not coming to him first and asking for your hand.”

She jerked from his side, her eyes wide in alarm. “No. I don’t want to see him.”

“But, Gina—”

“No! I don’t need his permission to marry. Whatever rights he had in my life he sacrificed a long time ago.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, and drew her back to his side. “We don’t have to go and see him.”

Blinking back tears, she sat huddled at his side, wishing desperately that she could roll the clock back an hour. Before she’d seen the headlines in the paper, she had been deliriously happy, her heart brimming with her love for Case.

She started at the unexpected thought. Love? She slowly relaxed, realizing it was true. She had fallen in love with Case. She didn’t know the precise moment when her feelings for him had grown to that point, but she knew without a doubt that she loved him.

But did he love her?

“Case?” she asked hesitantly.

“Hmm?”

“Do you love me?”

He drew back to look at her in puzzlement. “Where did that come from?”

Though as frightened to hear his answer as she had been embarrassed to ask the question, she had to know. “You’ve never said it. I just wondered.”

He stared at her a long moment, then smiled and hugged her to his side again. “I’d never marry a woman I didn’t love.”

Case punched in the security code to his penthouse and strode inside.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

He stopped short when he saw Creed stretched out on his sofa, then scowled. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on you, big brother. Since you didn’t return to the estate last night, I thought you might have stayed here.” He gave Case’s rumpled clothing a pointed look. “But seeing as how you’re wearing the same clothes you had on last night, I assume you spent the night with your new fianceé.”

His scowl deepening, Case peeled off his dinner jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. “So what if I did?”

Creed folded his hands behind his head. “That was quite a bomb you dropped on us last night.”

“Yeah. I imagine it was.”

“I knew you were determined to close the deal with Reynolds, but I never dreamed you’d go so far as marry his daughter in order to gain control of Reynolds Refining.”

Snorting a laugh, Case stripped off his shirt. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“You did. I heard the proposal myself.”

Case dropped his shirt and headed for his bedroom and the bathroom beyond. “There’s a mighty big gap between engagement and marriage.”

“What?” Creed bolted from the sofa and hurried after him. “Are you saying you don’t intend to marry Gina?”

Case twisted on the faucet in the shower. “I won’t have to.”

Scowling, Creed braced a shoulder against the doorframe. “Maybe you better explain.”

“Once Reynolds hears of the engagement—which I assume he has by now, thanks to whoever leaked the story to the newspaper—he’ll go along with the merger.”

“Why would he do that? He’s already told you he’s changed his mind.”

“His only objection was his desire to leave his daughter a legacy. Since Gina and I are now engaged, there’s no reason for him to delay any longer. He gets the money and, by marrying me, his daughter gets the company and the legacy he wanted for her … or so Curtis will think.”

Creed held up a hand. “Wait a minute. In order for Reynolds’ daughter to obtain partial ownership, the two of you would have to marry.”

His smile smug, Case unzipped his fly. “Which is the beauty of my little plan. I don’t have to marry her. I just have to make Reynolds think that I am. Once the merger is complete, I’ll break the engagement. Dakota Fortunes will own Reynolds Refining and I’ll still be a single man.”

Creed wagged his head sadly. “Brother, that’s low. Even for you.”

“Really? I think it’s rather magnanimous.” Case let his slacks drop and stepped out of them and into the shower. “Gina doesn’t want the company. Never has.”

“But you proposed to her,” Creed reminded him. “I doubt she’ll thank you for breaking the engagement.”

Case caught the shower curtain in his hand. “Not at first, maybe, but she will eventually. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said and jerked the curtain into place, blocking his brother, as well as the guilt he was trying to heap on him. “I prefer to shower alone.”

He waited until the bathroom closed behind Creed, then snatched up the bar of soap and began to lather his chest.

Gina would thank him, he told himself. She’d never be happy married to a man like him. She was much too sensitive, too … fragile a woman to survive marriage to a man like Case. She needed someone who would dote on her, someone less selfish, less ambitious. Someone who would love her for who she was, not for what she brought to the bargaining table.

Do you love me?

With a groan, he slumped forward, bracing his hands against the tiled wall, hearing again the uncertainty in her voice, the hope, the need, when she’d posed the question. And how had he responded?

He hadn’t. He’d cleverly dodged her question, using the evasive tactics he’d honed razor sharp in the business world.

Creed was right, he thought miserably. His treatment of Gina was low, even for him.

While Case was dealing with his guilt, Curtis Reynolds sat at the head of the table in his spacious dining room, reading the morning paper. As usual, he was alone, a fact that had begun to bother him of late.

When he’d first read the morning’s headline, he was shocked to discover that his daughter and Case were engaged. But his shock had quickly given way to satisfaction.

About time his daughter married, he told himself, as he sipped his coffee—though, sadly, it was too late for him to gain anything from the union. He would’ve liked to have had grandchildren. Preferably a boy, but at this point in his life, he would’ve welcomed a girl.

Reminded of the disease that was quickly eating away at his body and his life, he sat his coffee cup down and sank back in his chair with a weary sigh. Odd how mortality changed a man, he thought glumly. A year ago he wouldn’t have given grandchildren a thought. Now that he was facing death, the things he’d once considered so important had lost some of their shine. More and more often he found himself thinking about his wife, his daughter, and the mistakes he’d made with both, rather than the business he’d dedicated his life to building.

Stretching out a hand, he dragged the newspaper from the table and to his lap, the picture of his daughter in full view. She’d developed into a beautiful woman, he thought with a smidgen of pride … and more than a little regret. Not the beauty her mother had been, but an attractive young woman, none the less.

How long had it been since he’d seen her last? he wondered. Ten years? Probably closer to twelve. The summer before she began college, she’d made a brief visit home. He remembered the visit well. The flash of temper she’d displayed when he’d told her he was leaving on a business trip the day after her arrival. But he’d seen hurt in her eyes, as well. The disappointment. And that’s the memory that haunted him now.

It hadn’t at the time, he thought sadly. He’d dismissed the guilt, just as he had each time he’d witnessed similar reactions from his wife. He’d done so by telling himself that his business was important, that all the time he spent building Reynolds Refining was for his family, his wife and daughter. Hadn’t he provided them a cushy life? A regal home, a respected place in society, the finest of everything money could buy?

But now that he was facing his mortality, he realized the mistakes he’d made, all that he’d lost, just as his wife had tried to tell him so many times in the past. He was fifty-seven years old, still young really, but alone in the world. He’d driven his wife to suicide by allowing his ambition to supercede her needs and destroyed whatever chance he might’ve had at a relationship with his daughter.

And for what? he asked himself in frustration. A damn company. Earlier that week, he’d heard a Country Western song on the radio that pretty well capsulized the lesson he’d learned. The guy had been singing something about there not being any luggage racks on a hearse.

How true, he acknowledged sadly. He’d dedicated his life to building and collecting things. And now that he was facing the end of his life, he realized the mistakes he’d made, the lives he’d damaged, all he’d lost. In chasing the illusive rainbow of success, he’d sacrificed what was most important.

Family.

He dropped his head back against the chair with a sigh. For a man who’d spent the majority of his life alone, he’d never once suffered loneliness.

But now that he was facing death, it seemed loneliness was his constant companion.

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