A Bride's Tangled Vows. Dani Wade
She wasnât buying that. âHow long can it take to get the ball rolling on the estate? He had a will, right? Why would that require you to be on-site?â
âYes, he had a will, but thatâs not really helpful since he isnât dead.â
A single bout of silence from Trisha was a surprise. Twice in one conversationâa miracle. But she came back with her usual snarky humor.
âSo are you trying to talk me into moving to the wilds of South Carolina? Marty wouldnât care much for that.â
Just the thought of Italian-born-and-bred Antonio Martinelli in Black Hills was enough to brighten Aidenâs day. âNo, as amusing as that would be, I was thinking more along the lines of giving you an assistant and a raise.â
Make that three spells of silence, although the pause was much shorter this time. âDonât tease me, Aiden.â
âIâm not kidding,â he said, feeling as if he should raise his hand in a scout-style salute. âYouâve worked hard, sharpened your own sales skills. Iâm gonna need help to pull this off. We can do a lot by conference call and video chats, and Iâll make a trip up there when necessary. But the majority of first contact and sales will fall on you.â
Aiden ignored the surge of misery at the thought of being away from his business for long. But he wouldnât be out of contact. And he would not lose the gem it had cost him years of his life to build.
âItâs only temporary,â he assured his assistant and himself. âJust until I can get legal custody of Mother.â But watching until Christina disappeared from sight, Aiden knew his motives werenât nearly that noble.
Turning away, he gave Trisha a brief rundown of his grandfatherâs demands.
âWhoa,â she said. âAnd I thought Italian-American grandparents were demanding. Thatâs crazy. Why would you go through with that?â
âAt least a wife will give me a weapon against Ellen,â he said, making light of his current struggle. Shivers erupted just thinking about the barracuda with whom heâd mildly enjoyed his customary night, only to have her decide once wasnât enough. Sheâd spent the last month making his life miserable. âHow often has she called the office?â Aiden had blocked her from his cell phone.
âOh, every afternoon like clockwork. She doesnât believe that you arenât here. Iâm just waiting for her to show up in person and force me to pull out my pepper spray.â
There was way too much glee in his assistantâs voice. âDonât get arrested.â
âI wonât...if she behaves herselfââ
Doubtful. But Trisha handled most situations with tactâeven if she talked tough. âDo whatever you have to do. Maybe me being out of town for several months will help. In the meantime, you can forward client calls to my cell.â
They talked a few more logistics, and Aiden promised to be in touch daily. Balancing two businesses in two different states would not be a walk in the park, but he was determined to hold on to whatever he could in New York.
His grandfather might take his freedom, but he would not destroy everything Aiden had worked so hard to build.
Aidenâs uncharacteristic urge to curse like a sailor was starting to irritate him. As he snatched one of the cookies Marie had left cooling on the kitchen counter, he contemplated the grim facts. His lawyer hadnât found a way around the legal knots James had tied. There wasnât evidence to have him declared mentally unstable. He was, but then heâd always been. If jackassery could be considered a mental condition. And any legal proceedings to steal guardianship of his mother would take too long. Aiden wasnât willing to chance his motherâs health and well-being. He owed her too much.
So his bad mood was justified, but when he found himself stomping up the narrow back staircase from the kitchen, the taste of chocolate chip cookie lingering on his tongue, he knew it was time to get himself under control. After all, he wasnât a schoolboy or angst-ridden teen. He was a man capable of engineering million-dollar art deals. He could handle one obstinate grandfather and a soon-to-be brideâbut only with a cool head.
As a distraction, his mind drifted to other days blessed with warm cookies, spent playing hide-and-seek or sword-wielding pirates on these dark stairs. The perfect atmosphere for little-boy secrets and make-believe. He and his brothers had also used them to disappear when their grandfather came looking for them. Heâd often been on a terror about something or other. Theyâd sneak down and out the kitchen door for a quick escape.
Aiden stretched his mouth into a grim smile as he rounded a particularly tight bend. Escape was something heâd always excelled at. Except with Ellen Zabinski.
He didnât hear the footsteps until too late. Heâd barely looked up before colliding with someone coming down the stairs. A soft someone who emitted a little squeal as she stumbled. Certain theyâd fall, Aiden surged forward to keep from losing his balance. Christina tried to pull back, but her momentum worked against her. Hands flailed, finding purchase on his shoulders. Her front crushed to his. Their weight pressed dead against each other, stabilizing as two became one.
Everything froze for Aiden, as if his very cells locked down. He managed one strangled breath, filled with the fresh scent of her hair, before his body sprang to life. Her soft curves and sexy smell urged him to pull her closer, so much so that his fingers tightened against the rounded curves of her denim-covered hips. The soft flesh gave beneath his grip.
Heâd been without a woman for far too long. That had to be why he was so off balance. His strict adherence to his âno attachmentsâ rule had led to a lifetime of brief encounters. His last choice had been a wrong one, a woman who wasnât happy when he walked out the door the next morning. It had soured him on any woman since.
Darkness permeated the staircase, heightening the illusion of intimacy. His and Christinaâs accelerated breaths were the only sound between them. They were so close, he felt the slight tremor that raced over her echo throughout his entire body. It took more minutes than Aiden cared to admit for his mind to kick into gear.
âDreamed up more ways to invade my territory, Christina?â
He felt her stiffen against his palms, tension replacing that delicious softness. Just as heâd intended.
Before he could regret anything, she retreated, stabilizing herself with a hand against the wall. âAiden,â she said, prim disapproval not hiding a hint of breathlessness, âIâm sorry for not seeing you.â
Iâm not.
âAnd for the record, Iâm not invading anything. So Iâd thank you to never call me by that stupid nickname.â
It was a sign of his own childhood needs that heâd resented the attention sheâd received here at Blackstone Manor when they were kids, enough to tease her with his invader tag. There had been times heâd felt as if she had invaded their chaotic life, garnering what little positive attention there was to go around. How heâd resented that. To the point that, one hot summer afternoon, heâd spoken harsh words heâd always regret.
âIâm trying to help, Aiden. I really am.â Her voice came out low, intensifying the sense of intimacy.
He had to clear his own throat before he spoke again. âWhy? Iâm nothing to you.â
âAnd I realize Iâm nothing to you, but I care very much for Lily.â
He could feel his suspicious