The Tycoon's Rebel Bride
Page 12Not to mention he had a different woman on his arm every week.
“You are to keep a close watch on her,” Theron ordered. “I don’t trust this man she’s going out with. Under no circumstances are they to be left alone.”
“Yes, sir,” Reynolds replied.
Theron hung up the phone, his lips compressed into a tight line. Was she just trying to drive him insane? She had to know he wouldn’t approve of her spending time with Marcus after what had happened the previous night.
And maybe she could care less what he approved of. She hadn’t exactly paid him any heed in any other area.
He leaned back in his chair and opened his desk drawer, reaching for the small black box that nestled in the corner. His fingers touched it, and then he picked it up and opened it.
The diamond ring sparkled in the light as he studied it. Tonight he’d put it on Alannis’s finger. So why wasn’t he more enthused? Why wasn’t he looking forward to his future?
This time next year he could even have a child, a family. He’d be settled. And yet he felt decidedly unsettled about her—about everything.
His intercom buzzed again, and Madeline announced that he had another important call. She cut the connection before he could ask who. Shaking his head, he picked up the phone.
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Piers’s demand made Theron frown.
“Give him a chance,” Chrysander said dryly. “Then we’ll ascertain whether he’s lost his sanity.”
“You told Madeline not to tell me it was you two calling, didn’t you?” Theron accused.
“Damn right,” Piers said. “You wouldn’t have answered if you’d known. Coward.”
“There’s nothing to say I won’t hang up,” Theron said idly.
“Your sister-in-law wants to know why you didn’t tell her you were thinking of getting married,” Chrysander said.
Theron winced. “It’s not fair of you to use Marley to make me feel guilty, and you know it.”
“What are you doing?” Piers asked impatiently, cutting through the banter. “What could you possibly be thinking?”
“What our brother is trying to say is that we were caught by surprise, and we’d like to offer you our congratulations, just as soon as we understand why we’re only just now finding out,” Chrysander said diplomatically.
Piers made a rude noise. “Not me. If he tells me he’s really doing this, I can only offer my condolences.”
“What’s wrong with me getting married?” Theron asked, surprised by Piers’s reaction.
“Besides the fact that I think anyone willingly entering the institution of matrimony has a few screws loose, there is the fact that you’re marrying Alannis Gianopolous. She’s so wrong for you,” Piers said bluntly.
Theron frowned. “Alannis is a perfectly acceptable choice.”
There was a long silence, and then Chrysander cleared his throat. “Acceptable choice? That’s an odd way of putting it.”
“I’m more interested as to why you believe she’s so wrong for me,” Theron said, ignoring Chrysander’s remark.
“Hell, Theron, apart from the fact that her father has been angling for her to marry one of us for years, she’s…she’s…”
“Just tell us why the sudden urge to get married,” Chrysander said calmly. “And why you felt the need to include such momentous news in an e-mail.”
“Probably because of the reaction I’m getting now,” Theron said pointedly.
“Since when did you become so worried about what we thought?” Piers asked.
“Does anyone find it ironic that not so long ago, it was me and Piers having this talk with Chrysander about Marley? We were wrong about her, and you two are wrong about Alannis.”
Chrysander sighed, and Theron knew he had him. What could he say when it was the truth? Theron and Piers had been quite vocal in their opposition of Marley. They’d also been dead wrong.
“Just be sure this is what you want,” Chrysander said in resignation. “And keep us apprised of your plans. Marley will want to make it for the wedding.”
Piers wasn’t quite so ready to throw in the towel. “Think about what you’re doing, Theron. This is the rest of your life you’re talking about here.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Theron said dryly. “I am capable of making my own decisions.”
“Tell me how things are going with Isabella,” Chrysander broke in, an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Did you get her off to Europe?”
Again, there was a long silence. Theron wiped a hand through his hair wishing he’d pressed Madeline harder about who was on the phone.
“She didn’t go to Europe,” he said.
“Who is Isabella?” Piers demanded. “Are we talking about little Isabella Caplan?”
“I’ll fill you in later,” Chrysander said. “Why didn’t she go to Europe? Where is she then?”
“She’s here. She’s decided to stay in New York,” Theron said. “And she’s not so little anymore,” he added, though he was unsure why he felt the need to make that point.
Chrysander chuckled. “Poor Theron. Saddled with women on all sides. I imagine you’re cursing me about now.”
If he only knew.
“I’ve seen to Isabella’s needs, and gotten her settled in. Everything is fine. I’m fine. You two can get off my back now.”
“He sounds a little defensive, does he not?” Piers said smugly. “I smell something here. Something rotten. I only wish I was in New York to see for myself.”
“You just stay the hell where you are,” Theron muttered. “You have a hotel to build.”
Piers’s laughter flooded the line.
“I’m hanging up now,” Theron said before lowering the receiver.
Now he knew how Chrysander had felt when he and Piers had given him such a hard time about Marley. Well-meaning relatives were always the worst.
Eleven
“H ave any idea what you’re going to say yet?” Marcus asked Isabella as he picked up his wineglass and brought it to his lips.
When she looked up, she saw sympathy in Marcus’s dark eyes.
“Put yourself in his shoes,” she murmured. “You’re about to ask a woman to marry you. You’ve kissed another woman twice, and you’re fighting the attraction hard. What could this other woman say to you to convince you not to marry someone else?”
Marcus set his glass down, leaned back and blew out his breath. “Boy, you don’t ask the hard ones, do you? I guess it would depend on whether I truly loved the woman I was about to marry, but then I wouldn’t propose unless I was certain of that. And if I was certain, and I intended to propose, then nothing would sway me.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Isabella muttered.
“All you can do is try,” he said gently. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and all that jazz.”
A smile cracked through her lips. “Between you and me, we have all the trite clichés wrapped up.”
He reached over and took her hand. “Are you sure this is what you truly want, Bella? I hate to see you hurt or disappointed.”
“You’re sweet,” she began.
“Lord, but a man hates to hear those words from a woman’s lips,” he said with a groan. “It’s as bad as hearing you’re just like a brother to me.”
She laughed and relaxed her shoulders. Tension had crept into her muscles until her entire body had gone stiff with it. Marcus was right about one thing. All she could do was try. Whatever happened afterward was out of her control.
“You look fantastic tonight,” he said as he relinquished her hands.
“Thank you. You really are too sweet.”
She glanced down at the royal blue evening gown she’d chosen on her whirlwind shopping trip she’d dragged her bodyguards on earlier that day. She was dressed to kill, or to do battle at the very least. Without false modesty, she knew she looked her best.
High-class, posh, a far cry from her preferred jeans and flip-flops and brightly polished toes. Tonight, she fit into Theron’s world. Her world too, for that matter, just one that she’d never fully embraced. She had the money and pedigree, just not the desire to fit in.
“What time should we leave?” she asked anxiously.
She couldn’t help the surge in her pulse when she imagined making it to the party too late. It made her want to break into a cold sweat that she’d arrive only to see the happy couple already engaged.
Marcus smiled reassuringly. “The opera has only just begun. We have quite awhile yet. Not to worry, I’ll have you there in plenty of time. Try to relax and enjoy your dinner. It would be a terrible thing if you got to the party and promptly fainted at Theron’s feet from hunger.”
“Then again, it might be just the thing to stop the show,” she said mischievously.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m almost sorry I agreed to help you, Bella. I would have rather pursued you myself.”
“And if my heart weren’t already lost to Theron, I would most gladly lead you on a very merry chase,” she said with a grin.
“Then let me say this, and I won’t broach the subject again,” he said. “Should things not go the way you’d like…I ask only that you remember me.”
She reached over to take his hand this time. “Thank you, Marcus. You’ve been a wonderful friend in the short time of our acquaintance. I hope you’ll remain my friend no matter what. This is a lonely city when you know no one.”
“I’d be honored. Now eat. I insist. They have the most wonderful desserts here.”
Theron sat broodingly in his chair as the performance yawned on before him. Beside him, Alannis watched the stage with rapt attention, her face aglow with delight. Sophia was less enthused, but she still focused her attention forward.
He was tempted to send a message to Reynolds from his BlackBerry, but he wasn’t sure that Alannis was so ensconced in the performance that she wouldn’t notice, and he’d promised that no business would interfere tonight.
Still, he’d requested periodic updates from Isabella’s security team, and he’d find a way to check his messages even if it meant a trip to the bathroom.
For the entire next hour, he fidgeted, ready to be done. It irritated him that on a night he should be relaxed, that he was forced to think about Isabella’s well-being. She was seeping into his life in a manner that didn’t sit well with him. What did it say when he couldn’t enjoy an evening with his future wife for thinking about Isabella Caplan?
Alannis touched his arm, and he was jerked from his thoughts.
“Theron, it’s over,” she whispered.
He glanced quickly to see the curtain drawn. Had he missed the encore entirely? Another nudge from Alannis had him rising to his feet. He offered her his arm and filed out of his box, Sophia and two of his security team following behind.
“And how did you enjoy the show?” he asked as they made their way to the waiting limousine.
“It was wonderful,” Alannis gushed. “I do so love the opera. There was a time…”
She ducked her head, but not before he saw a bright blush form on her cheeks.
“There was a time, what?” he prompted.
“Oh, there was a time that I wanted to be an opera singer,” she said self-consciously.
“And why didn’t you pursue it?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I wasn’t good enough. Besides, father wouldn’t have had it. He thinks it’s a vulgar career.”
Theron raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have thought such talent could be considered vulgar.”
“Oh, he thinks any career that lands you on stage is inappropriate for a young girl. He’d much prefer that I marry well and give him grandbabies.”
Something flashed in her eyes before it quickly vanished into blandness.
“And what do you want?” Theron asked curiously.
“I like children,” she said simply before turning to her mother.
Theron ushered them into the car and settled in himself as they started for the hotel. His hands were clammy, and he shook his head in disgust over his apparent nervousness. He prided himself on his control and his calm. Nothing about this situation should cause him any anxiety. He had his future mapped out, and everything was proceeding exactly as planned.
After that reminder, he relaxed in his seat. He felt in his pocket for the ring then let his hand fall when he reassured himself that it was there.
Traffic moved quickly, and a half hour later, they arrived at the hotel. Alannis yawned as Theron helped her out of the car.
He smiled and took her hand. “I hope you aren’t too tired for the party.”
“What party?” she asked in surprise.