Fortune's Mergers. Bronwyn Jameson
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changes. His probing questions were what had finally unleashed her creative block and helped her find the images and emotions she’d needed to complete the task. And it was his supportive presence that had given her the ability to stick with the task throughout the long night until she’d finished the last one.
The telephone rang and she glanced at the extension on her bedside table, somehow knowing it was Case. After the second ring, she picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Good morning.”
A shiver chased down her spine at the sound of his voice and she sank back against her pillow, hugging the receiver to her ear. “It’s afternoon,” she reminded him.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I was awake.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Like the dead. How about you?”
“The same. I had no idea drawing was so exhausting.”
She hid a smile. “I don’t remember you holding a pencil.”
“Didn’t I?” His chuckle rumbled across the airwaves to her ear. “Then explain why my fingers are cramped?”
“That was probably from holding me on your lap all night.”
A lusty sigh crossed the airwaves. “Yeah. That must’ve been it.” There was a stretch of silence, then he asked, “Do you have plans for dinner?”
She blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic. “Well, no. I haven’t even thought about food.”
“Then have dinner with me. My parents just returned from Australia and all the family is gathering at the estate to welcome them home.”
She clutched the phone tighter to her ear, panic tightening her chest at the thought of meeting his family. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family celebration.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding. It’s nothing fancy. Just a chance to welcome them home. Besides, they’ll love having you join us.”
“I don’t know, Case,” she said doubtfully. “I’m an only child. I don’t have much experience with big families.”
“Tell you what,” he offered. “Dinner isn’t scheduled until seven. I’ll pick you up at six. Give you the grand tour of the estate. That way you can meet some of the family prior to dinner and won’t feel so overwhelmed.”
Despite Case’s assurance, Gina was overwhelmed. From the moment he’d turned onto the drive that wound its way through the Fortunes’ one-hundred and seventy-five acre estate until he came to a stop in front of his family’s home, she was struck dumb by the majesty of it all. Gothic in design, the mansion stood like a fortress against a gun-metal gray sky. Three stories of dark gray stone and scrolled ironwork made up the center portion of the house, with one-story wings jutting left and right. Gina counted a minimum of four chimneys rising from the black roof before she gave up and simply stared.
Case covered her hand with his. “Don’t worry,” he teased. “It may look haunted, but no ghosts live within those walls.”
She released an uneasy breath. “That’s good to know.”
He climbed out and circled the hood to open her door.
“We’ll save the outdoor tour for a warmer day,” he told her, leading the way to the front door.
One step inside and Gina released the breath she’d been holding, as well as her fears of bumping into a ghost. While the outside of the mansion appeared cold and gloomy, the inside was filled with warmth and color.
Before she could take it all in, Case caught her hand and tugged her toward the split staircase, taking the set of stairs to the right. “First stop, my bedroom.”
She jerked to a halt, pulling him to a standstill, as well. “You live here?” she asked in amazement.
“Along with my parents, brother Creed, half-brother Blake, and sister Eliza. Skylar, my half-sister, has a cottage on the estate, so I guess you’d say she lives here, too.”
“Doesn’t it get a little crowded? I mean, it’s a huge house, but I’d think you’d want some privacy once in a while.”
“When I do, I head for my penthouse on the top floor of the Dakota Fortunes’ building. Creed has a penthouse there, too, but the units are totally separate. Even when we’re there at the same time, we seldom see each other, unless we make a point to do so.”
He gave her hand a tug. “Come on. There’s lots to show you.”
When they reached the second floor, he opened a door and bowed slightly. “My humble abode, madame.”
Amused by his butler-like manner, she stepped inside and looked around, her eyes rounding, as her amusement gave way to shock. “Holy cow. You could drop my entire loft in here and have room left over.”
He shrugged off his coat and draped it over a chair, then helped Gina remove hers. “It serves its purpose.” He headed for the wet bar built into a corner of the room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Just water for me, thanks.”
While he poured their drinks, she looked around. Though beautifully decorated, it was obvious the suite belonged to a bachelor. A king-size platform bed dominated one wall. Draped neatly over it’s top was a navy velvet duvet with a burned-out F monogrammed in its center. A sitting area held two overstuffed chairs upholstered in burgundy arranged for easy viewing of the plasma TV on the opposite wall. Framed paintings were arranged gallery-style to the left of the TV. Gina moved closer to study them.
“Here you go.”
She accepted the glass Case offered her, then turned to peer at the portraits again. “Who is this?” she asked curiously, pointing to an oil of a woman dressed in a long evening gown and posed in a garden.
“My mother.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yes, she was.”
Puzzled by his use of past tense, she glanced at him in confusion. “Was?”
“She died when I was about six,” he explained.
“But I thought you said your parents just returned from Australia?”
“My father and step-mother.”
“Does that bother you?” she asked, unable to resist asking. “I mean, you obviously loved your mother very much. I would think it would be difficult for you to accept your father remarrying and bringing his new wife into the home he once shared with your mother.”
“Yes and no,” he said. “Actually, my father has married twice since my mother’s death. I despised my first step-mother and still do. Trina Watters is a conniving witch, which my father finally realized and divorced her. They had two children together, Blake and Skylar. After he divorced Trina, he hired Patricia, my current step-mother, as a nanny and later married her.”
He held up a hand. “I know what you’re probably thinking, and if you are, you’re wrong. Patricia isn’t a gold-digger like Trina. In fact, it took Dad a long time to convince Patricia to marry him.”
Gina was blown-away by the twists and turns in Case’s family tree. “How on earth do you keep them all straight?”
“Actually, there’s one more. Maya Blackstone. She’s Patricia’s daughter, which makes her my stepsister.” He nodded toward her drink. “Are you finished? If you are, I want to show you the solarium.”
After putting away their glasses, Case guided her toward the door. “There’s a pond and fountain there,” he told her, then shot her a wink. “I’ll bet if you look closely enough, you might even find a toad or two hiding among the ferns.”