Dani Wade - A Bride's Tangled Vows

She’d promised herself when she’d turned eighteen that she’d never go back to that kind of situation; never again have no value outside of what she could do for another.

So was she truly willing to become James Blackstone’s pawn?

* * *

“When are you heading back? That Zabinski woman is killing me.”

He didn’t want to think about Ellen Zabinski right now. He had enough problems on his hands. After a solid twenty-four hours of thinking, Aiden knew what he had to do. He still didn’t want to, but this choice was inevitable.

“I’m not.”

The dead silence would have been amusing if Aiden wasn’t in such a bind. His assistant Trisha’s silence was as rare as some of the art he imported. While he waited for her to recover, he paced across his bedroom to gaze out the back window. He compared the view of the lush country yard, the gentle sway of the grass and tree branches in the breeze, with the constant motion of the city. The very sereneness made him want to fall asleep. Not in a good way. Why would he consider uprooting his busy life, even if it was only for a few months?

A myriad of reasons not to do this rambled through his mind—work, taking a stand against his grandfather’s high-handedness, a lack of interest in the mill and a whole host of other things. Then his gaze fell on the chestnut-haired beauty strolling across the lawn to talk to the gardener. Christina smiled, stealing his breath. Her stride was sure, and those hips... As she spoke, her hands gestured with elegant grace to illustrate her words.

He should be worried about his mom—not her nurse. But as Christina looked up into the fifty-year-old weeping willow in the backyard, exposing the vulnerable skin of her throat, Aiden’s mouth watered.

When Trisha finally spoke again, her words were slow and measured. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s just say, I will be stuck cleaning up family business for a while.”

She wasn’t buying that. “How 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?”

“Yes, he had a will, but that’s not really helpful since he isn’t dead.”

A single bout of silence from Trisha was a surprise. Twice in one conversation—a miracle. But she came back with her usual snarky humor.

“So are you trying to talk me into moving to the wilds of South Carolina? Marty wouldn’t care much for that.”

Just the thought of Italian-born-and-bred Antonio Martinelli in Black Hills was enough to brighten Aiden’s day. “No, as amusing as that would be, I was thinking more along the lines of giving you an assistant and a raise.”

Make that three spells of silence, although the pause was much shorter this time. “Don’t tease me, Aiden.”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, feeling as if he should raise his hand in a scout-style salute. “You’ve worked hard, sharpened your own sales skills. I’m gonna need help to pull this off. We can do a lot by conference call and video chats, and I’ll make a trip up there when necessary. But the majority of first contact and sales will fall on you.”

Aiden ignored the surge of misery at the thought of being away from his business for long. But he wouldn’t be out of contact. And he would not lose the gem it had cost him years of his life to build.

“It’s only temporary,” he assured his assistant and himself. “Just until I can get legal custody of Mother.” But watching until Christina disappeared from sight, Aiden knew his motives weren’t nearly that noble.

Turning away, he gave Trisha a brief rundown of his grandfather’s demands.

“Whoa,” she said. “And I thought Italian-American grandparents were demanding. That’s crazy. Why would you go through with that?”

“At least a wife will give me a weapon against Ellen,” he said, making light of his current struggle. Shivers erupted just thinking about the barracuda with whom he’d mildly enjoyed his customary night, only to have her decide once wasn’t enough. She’d spent the last month making his life miserable. “How often has she called the office?” Aiden had blocked her from his cell phone.

“Oh, every afternoon like clockwork. She doesn’t believe that you aren’t here. I’m just waiting for her to show up in person and force me to pull out my pepper spray.”

There was way too much glee in his assistant’s voice. “Don’t get arrested.”

“I won’t...if she behaves herself—”

Doubtful. But Trisha handled most situations with tact—even if she talked tough. “Do 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.”

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.

Three

Aiden’s 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 hadn’t found a way around the legal knots James had tied. There wasn’t evidence to have him declared mentally unstable. He was, but then he’d 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 wasn’t willing to chance his mother’s 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 wasn’t 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 bride—but 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. He’d often been on a terror about something or other. They’d 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 he’d always excelled at. Except with Ellen Zabinski.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until too late. He’d barely looked up before colliding with someone coming down the stairs. A soft someone who emitted a little squeal as she stumbled. Certain they’d 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.