Carole Mortimer - The Wade Dynasty

‘Brenna?'

She flinched as he would have touched her, moving as far away from him as she could.

‘What the hell!’ Nathan's face darkened like a thunder-cloud as he turned to look at her. ‘Brenna, what is it?’ He frowned at how pale she had become.

‘What is it?’ she repeated haltingly, still very disturbed. ‘It isn't every day I'm accused of being a whore!'

‘I never called you that!’ he rasped.

‘As good as.’ She flushed in her anger.

He gave a deep, ragged sigh. ‘Okay, what was your relationship to those two?'

‘I told you, Carolyn writes the books, and I illustrate them.'

‘And Nick Bancroft?'

‘Shares Carolyn's room,’ she told him resentfully. ‘The two of them go everywhere together.'

‘That wasn't the impression I got,’ Nathan bit out contemptuously.

‘Appearances can be deceptive.’ Although Carolyn had been very sexually active before meeting and falling in love with Nick, to her knowledge, for all her friend's talk, Carolyn had been faithful to him since they first fell in love. The habit of flirting with every man she met was obviously a hard one for Carolyn to break. ‘Carolyn writes children's books, not sex manuals!'

‘Okay,’ Nathan sighed. ‘If I was wrong, I'm sorry.'

The words were so quietly spoken Brenna couldn't help wondering if she had imagined them; Nathan never apologised for anything, none of the Wade men did. But this time Nathan had, she could tell that by the angry set of his mouth, the stiff way he sat behind the wheel of the car, as if he deeply resented having to apologise. And Brenna was sure that he did.

She neither accepted nor denied the apology, turning so that she was looking out of the side window, her face stiffly averted all the way back to London.

It was late afternoon by the time they reached London and the top floor of the Victorian building which Brenna occupied, one of the rooms having been converted into a studio for her, the light up there being excellent for her work. She had lived in the flat only a year, moving from the one she had shared with two other girls through college, so that Nathan shouldn't find her if he came looking. It seemed she could have saved herself the trouble, she thought ruefully; Nathan didn't give a damn about reading other people's personal mail to obtain what he wanted.

He carried her two suitcases up the six flights of stairs, putting them down outside her door while Brenna searched for her key in her bag.

She turned to him. ‘If you tell me the name of your hotel I'll call you if I hear from Lesli—–'

‘I booked out of my hotel this morning.’ Nathan took the key out of her hand and deftly turned it in the lock. ‘If Lesli calls or comes here, I'll be waiting for her.’ He gently urged Brenna inside the flat before he followed with the two suitcases.

‘Here?’ Brenna finally managed to gasp. ‘You mean here ?’ She came to an abrupt halt just inside the lounge when she saw the brown suitcase standing in the middle of the room. ‘Yours?’ she squeaked at Nathan.

His mouth quirked. ‘When I explained to your landlady that I'm your brother, and flashed Lesli's and Grant's wedding photograph at her with the four of us standing together, she was kind enough to unlock your door and let me leave my case here. So you see, Brenna, I'm here for the duration.'

BRENNA’S eyes shot sparks at Nathan's arrogance, his downright nerve in daring to assume he could do such a thing. ‘I don't care what you told Mrs Marlow, you are not staying here!’ she told him furiously. ‘You had no right to have your case put here under false pretences. I ought to telephone the police.'

‘And tell them what? I am your brother—–'

‘Like hell you are! You—–'

‘Brenna,’ Nathan's voice was soft, dangerously so, ‘what did I do the last time you swore at me?'

An embarrassed blush darkened her cheeks as she remembered how painful a certain part of her anatomy had been the time she had called him an arrogant bastard. She hadn't been able to sit down comfortably for a week!

‘I'm glad the memory is still with you,’ he drawled, carrying her cases through to her bedroom without the least sign of hesitation. His mouth quirked in amusement as he came back to find her glaring at him accusingly. ‘I had a look round this morning,’ he mocked.

‘Checking to see if I had a live-in lover?’ she snapped resentfully.

He shrugged. ‘I was just curious about where you had been living since you left college. I wasn't aware that an illustrator was paid enough to afford a place like this.’ He sat down uninvited in an armchair, stretching his long legs out in front of him as he turned to arch one eyebrow questioningly at her.

Brenna's mouth firmed. Although this was an attic flat she did occupy the whole floor, three smaller flats on each of the two lower floors, and he was right in his assumption; the rent on this place each month cost her a small fortune.

‘Don't tell me,’ he drawled mockingly, ‘that you've forgotten all your avowals to the contrary and spent some of the Wade money?'

She drew in a shaky breath, hating to have to make the admission. When their parents had died she had been shocked to learn that Patrick had left everything equally among the four children, had been stunned that he hadn't made the distinction between his own children and his second wife's. But neither Nathan or Grant had questioned it, and Brenna had known why; she had known that the money, and Lesli's and her own share of the Wade ranch, was just a pay-off for a guilty conscience from a man who had believed money could atone for all sins. Brenna had known exactly what it was, and refused to accept any of it. But last year when she left college she had had no choice. But as soon as she began to earn money on her illustrating she was going to pay the money back she had borrowed with interest, and had no intention of taking anything from the Wades.

‘I'm going to pay it back,’ she snapped.

‘For God's sake, Brenna—–'

‘You can't stay here, Nathan.’ She turned away.

‘Then you do have a live-in lover?’ he taunted.

‘No—and I don't want one either!’ she glared at him pointedly.

‘Pity,’ he drawled. ‘Still, I did notice a cot-bed in the studio when I looked around this morning, I'm sure I'll be comfortable on that.'

‘There are no curtains at the windows!’ she protested.

‘Then I guess I'll have to go out and buy some pyjamas, won't I?’ he reasoned.

‘Nathan—–'

‘Brenna?’ He arched forbidding black brows.

‘Nathan, you know it wouldn't be right for you to stay here,’ she choked almost pleadingly, knowing she was going to hate herself for the weakness later but not caring at that moment.

His eyes became icy. ‘As you so rightly said earlier, Brenna, that's over,’ he dismissed harshly. ‘I'm here to find Lesli; I'm not going to attempt to touch you. You can trust me, Brenna,’ he sighed at her apprehensive expression.