He vowed to love and cherish her...

It was like something out of a fairy tale: being swept off her feet, then eloping with her one true love, Houston oil tycoon Brice Kingsley. Then a devastating diagnosis and a threat from her past forced Brooke Smith Kingsley to leave the man she loved. Now she has a chance to make things right, but only if she can keep her secret—and her distance—from her irresistible husband.

Though he couldn’t accept Brooke’s reasons for running away, Brice never gave up on her or their marriage. And with the beautiful tax attorney back in his life, reigniting passion stronger than before, he can’t bear to let her go ever again. Even as a revenge-seeking blackmailer schemes to bring down the Kingsley empire, Brice will fight for their future—a love that’s for now and forever.

MARTHA KENNERSON’s love of reading and writing is a significant part of who she is, and she uses both to create the kinds of stories that touch your heart. Martha lives with her family in League City, Texas, and believes her current blessings are only matched by the struggle it took to achieve such happiness. To find out more about Martha and her journey, check out her website at www.marthakennerson.com.

Also By Martha Kennerson

Protecting the Heiress

Seducing the Heiress

Tempting the Heiress

Always My Baby

An Unexpected Holiday Gift

Be My Forever Bride

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Be My Forever Bride

Martha Kennerson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08073-6

BE MY FOREVER BRIDE

© 2018 Martha Kennerson

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Brooke stood in front of Brice’s office door, pushed out a quick breath and raised her balled fist to knock, only she couldn’t do it. She was suddenly hit with the memory of the first time she’d met Brice, in this very office.

She walked into the office to find the most handsome man she’d ever seen wearing an expensive-looking gray suit and wireless headphones staring at his computer. “Excuse me,” Brooke said as she walked up to his desk, waving to try to get his attention.

Brice removed his headphones and quickly got to his feet. “May I help you?” His eyes roamed her body. Brooke fought the urge to look down to make sure her black pencil skirt, matching jacket and white blouse didn’t have a stain or something on them. She was extremely happy she’d worn her five-inch heels to raise her five-foot-seven-inch frame, because she just knew he had to be over six feet tall.

Brooke looked up at the handsome man with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile, hoping her nervousness wasn’t showing.

Dear Reader,

If you have read any of my work, you know how much I love showcasing unique family dynamics in a great sexy romance. The Kingsleys of Texas offers that and so much more.

In Be My Forever Bride, soon-to-be divorced couple Brice and Brooke Kingsley are forced to work together to ensure their company’s financial standing with the IRS remains positive. In the process, secrets and lies are exposed, forcing this couple to reevaluate all their previous beliefs.

Please let me know how you liked Brice and Brooke’s story. I love interacting with my readers. You can contact me on Facebook or Twitter, @kennersonbooks.

You’ve seen glimpses of Morgan Kingsley throughout the series. Coming soon is his full story.

Until then,

Martha

As a writer, it is very important to me that my stories come from a place of real love and are based in some truths. I’d like to dedicate this story to my friend and muse, Danielle. Thank you for allowing me to share parts of your truth and journey. You have been a real inspiration.

Acknowledgments

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my online resources AboveMS.com and NationalMSSociety.org for all their valuable information.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Extract

Extract

Chapter 1

Brice Kingsley stood, flexing every muscle in his body to ensure he remained upright. Thanks to the news he’d just received, Brice was like a volcano ready to explode. The most conservative in his opinions and dress of the Kingsley brothers—CFO of his family’s multi-billion-dollar oil and gas corporation—had traded in his usual business attire for a more casual look: blue jeans, a black button-down shirt and black leather loafers. He’d finally decided to take his brothers’ advice to move on with his life and get past the fact that he’d be divorced soon. His first step was drinks with a few good friends and a couple of very beautiful women.

Brice flew out of his chair, which slid backward when he leaned forward and gripped the table with both hands as if he was holding back his desire to attack. The internal battle he was fighting between disbelief and rage had marred his features.

“What the hell did you say?” The words were out of Brice’s mouth before he could stop them.

There were audible sighs from those sitting down and squeaking from chairs moving before the room fell silent. Brice looked down the long mahogany oval table, past the surprised faces of his eldest brother and two cousins. They sat wide-eyed in the large wingback chairs, staring at the target of his question.

The fair-skinned, wrinkle-free woman pushed her chair back and rose slowly. The shimmery gold gown she wore showcased an immaculate figure of a woman that didn’t look anywhere near her fifty-four years. Victoria Kingsley, the matriarch of the family and CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas, glared back at her third son.

Remembering whom he was speaking to, Brice straightened, returning to his full height of six feet, his hands fisting at his side. “What I meant to ask, was how could you make such a decision without discussing it with me first?” Brice knew better than to ask such a ridiculous question, but in his current state of shock and disbelief he really didn’t know what else to say.

“Victoria, maybe I should—”

Victoria presented the palm of her right hand, stopping her sister, Elizabeth Kingsley, the more reasonable of the two when it came to handling their respective children by most accounts, from interfering and offering up what she knew would be a more sedated explanation for her decision.

Victoria exhaled noisily, collapsed her hands together and held them in front of her. “Let me see. The last time I checked, I was the CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas and one of two—” she wiggled two fingers “—majority stakeholders. My decisions aren’t up for discussion unless I say they are. This is a notification period. Brooke starts tomorrow!”

Brice knew how his mother ran her company, but he still couldn’t understand how she could do something that she knew would be hard for him to handle. “I understand that, Mother, but this is my life we’re talking about.”

Victoria moved to the glass bar that sat in the corner of the room and poured herself a shot of Macallan whiskey. “No, what I made was a business decision. You’re making it personal, son.”

“So, your bringing Brooke back to work here isn’t personal?” he asked, his tone hard. Twenty-seven-year-old Brooke Kingsley was a tax attorney, finance wizard and Brice’s soon-to-be ex-wife.

Victoria took a sip of her drink. “Of course not. You know I don’t do personal when it comes to business.” Her eyes zeroed in on her sister. “Not anymore, anyway. Brooke is excellent at what she does and she knows our company. There are too many people coming after us. The IRS is just the latest. With Keylan going back on the road with the team and taking Mia, another one of our valued employees, with him—”

“Of course he’ll want his wife...his new family by his side. How many times did Alexander ever take a trip without you?” Elizabeth interjected, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

“I can remember one time in particular and so should you.” Victoria looked down at her bare ring finger and tossed back the rest of her drink.

Elizabeth turned away and muttered, “I do. Sorry, Victoria.”

Victoria poured herself another whiskey and her sister a glass of wine. “The point is we need people we can trust, helping with this fight.” She smiled down at her sister and handed her the wine.

“Are you sure you can trust her?” Brice knew his question was coming from a place of hurt and anger, but it was the only ammunition he had left.

Victoria returned to her seat. “May I?” Elizabeth asked.

“Please.” Victoria raised her glass.

“Brice, darling, I understand that you might be a little apprehensive about having Brooke around again, but we need her help. Maybe you two can work out your issues,” she replied, her smile faint.

Brice loved his aunt’s sweet spirit and he appreciated her glass-half-full approach when it came to most things, but this time he had to stand firm. Working with Brooke would be more difficult than anyone seemed to understand. Brice puffed out his chest and went stone-faced.

“If she comes back, I won’t work with her,” he announced.

Victoria sat forward, placed her drink on the table and leered at her son. The room’s temperature seemed to drop several degrees. “What does that mean exactly? Are you resigning from your role as CFO?”

“What?” Brice’s forehead creased. He didn’t know what he meant, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Of course not, Mother,” COO Alexander quickly said, scowling at Brice, who stood in silence with his hands in his pockets. “Everyone just needs to calm down and take a breather.”

Victoria’s cell phone rang. She removed the phone from her Hermès bag and answered it with the brief statement, “I’ll be down in a moment.” Victoria rose from her seat and this time everyone followed suit, except her sister, who remained in her chair. Victoria returned her phone to her purse, leaned over and kissed her sister on the cheek.

“Have a nice evening, Victoria,” Elizabeth said with a half-smile.

“I always do. I trust you can—”

“I’ll take care of everything here,” Elizabeth promised.

Victoria offered Alexander her cheek, which he kissed before saying, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Victoria moved to Kristen Kingsley, Elizabeth’s only daughter and their company’s vice president of general operations. “I expect those files on my desk first thing in the morning,” she instructed before giving her a hug.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kristen eagerly replied.

Victoria sent Travis, Kristen’s twin brother and one of two Kingsley heirs that didn’t work for the company, an air-kiss across the table. “See your mother home safely before you head back to that ranch of yours.”

“Always,” he promised.

When Victoria finally made her way to the door where Brice was now standing, she placed her right hand on his chest and stared up at him. Brice’s eyes scanned her face for any signs of what was coming but she stood stone-faced.

“The next time you threaten me with not doing your job, you had better have a letter of resignation to offer—otherwise, I will fire you, son. Understand?” Brice gave a quick nod. “Good.” Victoria dropped her hand, offered her cheek, which he kissed, and left the room.

“Dammit, Brice, what the hell’s wrong with you? You’re twenty-eight, not a goddamn impulsive eighteen-year-old,” Alexander scolded his brother, making his way over to the bar.

“Language,” Elizabeth stated, taking a sip of her wine.

“Pour me one too, Alexander,” Travis requested, taking his seat. “Aunt Victoria is an OG and she doesn’t play. I think she really would’ve fired you,” he concluded.

“I would have,” Kristen offered, collecting her things.

“Of course you would have, sis. You’re just like her.”

Elizabeth gave the evil eye to her bickering children. “That’s enough, you two.”

Brice leaned forward against the chair he’d long ago abandoned and dropped his head. He knew his brother was right; he was being impulsive. Brice couldn’t believe how quickly things had turned with his mother, all because of the emotions Brooke invoked that he still couldn’t control. How was he going to handle working day-in and day-out with her?

“Mother, I’ll take you home,” Kristen offered. “Let these two see if they can talk some sense into Brice.”

Elizabeth rose from her chair and smoothed out her green flower-print dress. “That’s a great idea, darling, and maybe on our way home I can convince you to add a little more color to your wardrobe.” She scrunched up her face at the black pantsuit Kristen wore.

“Black is a color, Mother.”

“No, it’s not. Black is a statement.”

“It’s in the coloring box,” Kristen said sarcastically. “What about Travis? He’s wearing black jeans and a black shirt. I don’t hear you threatening him with a lesson on the coloring wheel.”

“We’re not talking about your brother,” she declared, hugging and kissing her son and nephew before walking out of the conference room with her daughter on her heels.

Brice dropped down in his chair and accepted the glass his brother offered. “Thanks, A.”

“You okay?” Alexander stood, swirling his drink in his glass.

“Not really,” Brice admitted.

“Well, you need to do whatever you have to so you can get okay. You have got to pull it together. Another performance like that one and I’ll fire you myself,” he said, tossing back his drink.

Brice mirrored his brother’s actions, allowing the gold liquid to slide down his throat, hoping it would burn some sense into him. “I will. I guess it was just the shock of knowing no matter what I did or said, I couldn’t get my wife to even talk to me, yet my mother was able to convince her to come back to work for us. It’s as if nothing ever happened between us, let alone a marriage.”

“You know I understand how you feel, but you have to rise above it. You have a job to do,” Alexander reminded Brice.

“You know what you need.” Travis smiled like he had a secret he was dying to spill.

“What’s that?” Brice knew he shouldn’t ask, but at this point, he needed all the help he could get.

“You should find a bar and look for something soft and sweet to spend the night with. Lose yourself in someone for a while before you have to see Brooke again.” Travis shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt.”

The mere idea of being with another woman sexually was making his stomach hurt. He had just given himself permission to have drinks with another woman. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“Let’s go, Travis. He needs a minute,” Alexander observed.

Brice leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His mind flashed back to the last time he had seen Brooke: after he’d returned home from getting her favorite meal, only to find that she’d left him via a short note. It had taken Brice nearly two months to convince Eddie, the husband of Brooke’s best friend, to help him in his efforts to find his wife. When he found out she was in Paris, he flew over to try and figure out what was really going on. He hadn’t bought her explanation that they had gotten married too fast and that she wasn’t ready to settle down. Brooke’s actions during their six-month marriage told him the very opposite. They had even started having discussions about starting a family.

Brice remembered exactly how he’d felt the day he walked into the restaurant of the Hôtel Barrière Le Fouque along the Champs-élysées, one of Paris’s most historic locations. The café was decorated with studio style portraits of popular actors and directors from several decades. The tables, accompanied by red velvet chairs, were dressed in fine white linen, expensive porcelain china and crystal. The room screamed romance and he knew Brooke would have loved it.

When Brice had spotted Brooke sitting at a table, holding up her head with her left hand, gazing into the eyes of another man he hadn’t recognized who was caressing her wrist, his blood boiled as he stood out of her view watching and he knew his marriage was over. The pain of that memory jolted him forward. “No, she wasn’t ready to settle down. It’s time to move on.”

Chapter 2

Brooke sat on the balcony of her suite at Houston’s Hotel ZaZa, located in the heart of the museum district. She smiled in spite of the ache in her heart at the memories of all the times she and Brice had enjoyed their weekends getting lost in the cultural experiences there. Brooke still couldn’t believe she had found a man who enjoyed what some found to be geeky activities—exploring museums and enjoying live performances in the park—as much as she did. She sipped her coffee and nibbled on different pastries as she watched the sunrise spread its rays over the city when she heard her door lock turn.

She heaved a sigh because she knew the silence of her morning was now over. “Good morning, Lori,” she called out. Lori Murphy was Brooke’s executive assistant and one of the few people she actually called a friend. Growing up in the foster care system made it difficult for Brooke to get close to people.

“Good morning. It’s seven o’clock—why aren’t you dressed yet?” Lori questioned as she walked out onto the balcony in a gray suit and matching heels, her sandy blond hair in a tight bun.

“You look nice,” Brooke complimented.

“Thanks. Shouldn’t you get a move on?” Lori encouraged.

“I just needed a little more time with my friends calm and quiet before we have to take on the Kingsleys again. You know how daunting it can be, working for that family,” she teased.

“I still don’t understand why you accepted this assignment. May I?” she asked, admiring the many types of bread and fruits Brooke had to offer.

“Yes, of course.” Brooke pushed the room service cart toward Lori. “I had no choice. We’re still under contract with Kingsley Oil and Gas. A fact she reminded me of when she called me in Paris. Victoria’s not the type of businesswoman to let someone walk away from a commitment because the situation may be a little uncomfortable.”

“You’re right about that, but she did set you up in a nice place. This balcony with a two-person tub and bed-like lounge seating is fantastic and awfully romantic. I’d kill to have those black-and-white chandeliers,” she proclaimed, looking over her shoulder into the living room. Lori started eating her food as she walked back into the suite.

Brooke rose from her seat and followed after her. “Yes, she did. This place screams Victoria. It’s pure over-the-top luxury.”

“Don’t forget about that beautiful black ceiling,” she reminded Brooke, looking up.

“How could I?” She tightened her robe.

Lori popped a piece of fruit in her mouth. “Why’d she put you up in a hotel, anyway? And why here when there’s a chain hotel right across from their building?”

“This is one of the Kingsleys’ investment properties and providing accommodations is part of the contract.”

“I know but I think you should go back to your house.”

“That’s Brice’s house now. I left, remember?”

“I realize that,” Lori said, shaking her head. “You could’ve stayed with me, you know.”

“I know, but we see enough of each other working together. Speaking of work, is everything ready?”

“Everything but you,” Lori answered, checking her watch.

“I’ll go change.” Brooke walked into the bedroom and looked down at the navy blue St. John long sleeve notched-collar suit jacket and its matching short sleeve dress and moaned. Over the last few months, Brooke had begun to dress more casually since she’d taken on a smaller less public role within the company. “This outfit is conservative and professional, just the way Victoria prefers it.”

Brooke removed her robe and pulled her dress over a lace La Perla bra and underwear set. They gave her an added level of confidence and it was her sexy secret...a secret that used to be hers and Brice’s. The thought sent a wave of sadness through her body that she had to immediately shake off before it took root. She slipped her feet into a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes and twirled in the mirror and said, “Welcome back... Some things never change.”

She moved to the bathroom where she pulled her hair up into a tight bun and lightly made up her face. Brooke looked down at the three medicine bottles that sat next to her multi-vitamins and birth control pill and released an audible sigh. “Well, almost...”

“Knock-knock,” Lori called out before she entered the room.

“I’m ready,” Brooke replied, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Wow, you look great.”

“Thanks. Good thing you insisted on the new wardrobe. My old business clothes would have never fit thanks to those fifteen pounds I never intended to lose,” she confessed, walking back into the living room where she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

“Too bad Victoria won’t adopt a more business casual approach at the office.”

“Yeah, too bad.” Brooke tossed back her handful of meds and washed them down with the orange juice.

“The car is here and Damon is already at the office,” Lori advised. Damon Watts was a tax specialist and associate at Brooke’s consulting firm. “That should go over well with Brice.” Brooke grabbed her purse and briefcase. “Let’s go.”

The short ride from Brooke’s hotel to the Kingsley offices was over in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Brooke exited the town car and stood in front of the office, looking up at the fifty-story glass building. “This place makes me feel so small,” she said to herself. In more ways than one.

“I know. You can’t even see the top floors for the clouds,” Lori observed.

“Let’s get this over with.” Both women walked into the lobby with their heels clicking on the black-and-white marble floors, announcing their presence to the guards.

“This place isn’t nearly as busy as I remembered,” Lori stated, as they approached the guard station that sat in front of a giant water wall.

“Of course not—it’s nearly nine. Everyone here starts work between seven and eight,” Brooke explained.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kingsley,” the guard greeted.

Brooke had the urge to turn to see if Victoria or Elizabeth was standing behind her but she knew better. She knew exactly whom the guard was addressing as he smiled down at her. If that wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the tingling that ran down her spine to her private parts most certainly was. “Good morning.”

“Here are your credentials and security pass,” he explained, handing them to Brooke.

“Thank you.”

The guard turned to Lori. “Miss Murphy, I assume?”

“Yes, I’m Lori Murphy.”

“These are for you. Mr. Watt has arrived already.”

“Thank you,” Lori replied, clipping her badge to her jacket.

“Please follow me to the elevators.” The guard swiped his pass in front of the keypad and the elevator door opened. “As a reminder, Mrs. Kingsley, please enter the elevator one at a time.”

Brooke thanked him before they entered. Lori followed her in and when the doors closed, she asked, “What was that all about?”

“Additional security. The doors activate the body-scanning device. That’s why there’s a slight pause before we start moving,” she explained, hitting the buttons to the forty-eighth and fiftieth floor.

“Wow, they take their security around here very seriously.”

“Yes they do. The Kingsleys have a lot to protect,” she mumbled.

“How do you feel?”

Brooke could see the concern written all over Lori’s face. “I’m fine. We’ll be in and out of here in a few weeks and then it’s back to Paris.”

“I still can’t believe you’re moving your base to Paris.”

Brooke shrugged. “With the success of my business, I can work anywhere, so why not France?”

The elevator came to a stop on the forty-eighth floor. Brooke handed her things to Lori. “You not coming?” Lori asked with a deep frown.

“I can’t put this off any longer. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Lori stepped out of the elevator and Brooke plastered on a fake smile, hoping to calm her friend’s fears while she stood and watched the doors close. Brooke knew how worried Lori would be at the thought of her being alone with Brice. Lori understood how Brooke’s unresolved feelings for him could induce a negative physical reaction. However, Brooke also knew that if she didn’t address the very large elephant in the building first thing this morning, her time there would be even more difficult.

* * *

Brice stood in front of his vertical desk that sat on the left side of his traditional mahogany one in front of the wall of windows. He was trying to concentrate on the documents before him but failing measurably. He’d barely gotten four hours of sleep the night before, anticipating seeing Brooke again. It had been three months since she left him and a month since he’d seen her in Paris. Brice was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions, none of which he could seem to bring under control.

“Excuse me, boss,” his beautiful and curvy research assistant interrupted, standing in his doorway.

Brice smiled at the tall and lovely sight before him. A fact that others had pointed out in hopes that he would consider dating her and move on from Brooke. Most people couldn’t see past her beauty to her brilliant mind. “Come in, Amy.”

“Everything’s set up for Mrs. Kingsley and her team’s arrival.”

Amy’s words were like a shot to the gut. He used to love it when people addressed his wife by his last name. Now, hearing it was like nails on a chalkboard. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Yes, actually.” Brice handed her a list of cases he needed researched. “Those are all relevant to the new pipeline. We need to make sure we cover our bases with the affected communities. We don’t want the EPA back in our lives.”

Amy smiled. “Really? I thought you wanted to handle that project on your own.”

Brice moved to his stationary desk, sat down and fired up his computer. “Yeah, well, I’m a little distracted,” he admitted, which was an understatement. “Also, can you call my cousin Kristen and tell her I’ll need to take a rain check on dinner tonight?”

“Sure thing, and I’ll be down the hall in the law library if you need me.”

“Thanks and close the door behind you, please.” Brice only wished he could stay hidden in his office during Brooke’s short stay.

* * *

Brooke stood in front of Brice’s office door, pushed out a quick breath and raised her balled fist to knock—only she couldn’t do it. She was suddenly hit with the memory of the first time she’d met Brice in that very office nearly three years earlier.

* * *

She walked into the office to find the most handsome man she’d ever seen wearing an expensive-looking gray suit and wireless headphones while he stared at his computer. Brooke had never found herself at a loss for words, yet the man before her, with his light-colored skin, dark, curly hair and full, sexy lips, were wreaking havoc on her system. “Excuse me,” Brooke said, walking up to his desk and waving, trying to get his attention.

Brice removed his headphones and quickly got to his feet. “May I help you?” His eyes roamed her body. Brooke fought the urge to look down to make sure her black pencil skirt, matching jacket and white blouse didn’t have a stain or something on it. She was extremely happy she’d worn her five-inch heels to raise her five-foot seven-inch frame because she just knew he had to be at least six-feet tall.

Brooke looked up at the handsome man with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips, hoping her nervousness wasn’t showing. After all, this was her first major client for her new firm. “I apologize if I’m intruding. They sent me up from downstairs but no one’s out front. My name is Brooke Smith and I’m looking for Mr. Brice Kingsley.”

“I’m Brice Kingsley,” he replied, smiling and showing off a beautiful set of white teeth.

Brooke extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Brice gave it a small shake. “Likewise, but it’s six fifteen in the morning. Why are you here so early?”

“I like to get started early while it’s still quiet. It’s usually the only time I can enjoy my jazz at full blast before others get in and I have to wear my headphones,” she explained.

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “You like jazz?”

Surprise was written all over his face. “I love it,” she assured him.

“I do too. Please have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”

“Yes, cream and sugar, please,” Brooke replied, taking a seat in one of the large round chairs in front of his desk.

Brice walked over to a small table next to his desk where a vintage coffee station had been set up. He poured her a cup, pulled a vanilla-flavored creamer from the desk drawer along with several packets of sugar. He handed her the cup and placed the cream, sugar and a stirrer straw in front of her.

“Please.” He directed her attention to the condiments. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you.” Brooke added the sugar and creamer to her coffee and took a sip. “Very good.”

“You sound surprised.” His brows were standing at attention.

“Honestly, I am.” Brooke smiled over her cup at the amused look on his face. “But I’m also impressed. A lot of men can’t make a good cup of coffee.”

“You have to have the right mixture of water to bean,” Brice explained.

“Now I’m really impressed,” she admitted. “Most men don’t know that.”

Brice took a seat behind his desk. “I’m the one impressed. Your catch saved us millions of dollars. I still can't believe our former tax accountants had been using several incorrect forms and overlooking valuable deductions. I can’t imagine your bosses at the IRS are very happy with you.”

“Not at all. They fired me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, frowning.

“Don’t be. If they hadn’t fired me, Victoria wouldn’t have convinced me to come work for her.”

“But only as a consultant. I understand you wouldn’t come on board full-time.” He gave her a quizzical look.

“No offense, but I want to be my own boss. I don’t want to be tied down to one company. Thankfully, your mother understood that and hired me anyway. Kingsley is my first client.”

Brice raised his coffee cup. “Here’s to a long and fruitful relationship.”

Brooke smiled and raised her cup. “Shall we get started?”

* * *

Brooke broke away from the past, pushed her shoulders back, raised her hand and knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Chapter 3

Brooke opened the door and walked into the office to find Brice seated behind his desk, signing several documents. “Did you forget something, Amy?”

The sound of his voice sent waves of desire throughout her body, just like they had from the first moment they met. She’d missed it... She’d missed him. “It’s not Amy, Brice,” Brooke replied, closing the door behind her, knowing this conversation wasn’t for the public.

Brice dropped his pen, raised his head and sat back in his seat. “Brooke,” he said, his face expressionless.

“Do you have a moment for a quick chat?” She tried to project confidence when in reality she was a nervous wreck inside. Her heart was beating so fast she just knew the whole building could hear it.

Brice tilted his head slightly to the right and his forehead crinkled. “You tell me after six months of what I thought was a wonderful marriage that you want out. I convince you to give us time to work things out, at least I thought I had, and go out for your favorite seafood only to come back to find that you’ve left me with a note.” He leaned forward slightly. “You disappear for three months, only communicating through your lawyer, and now you want to chat.” His tone was hard but even.

“I... I—”

“Sure, please, have a seat.” His words were laced with disdain and sarcasm.

Brooke moved forward on unsteady legs, reaching for the support of a chair. She swallowed hard. “You make it sound so—”

“So what? Honest? Is that not what happened?”

“I didn’t want to fight. Not then and certainly not now,” she explained, trying to hold his angry glare.

“What do you want, Brooke?” Brice asked, sitting back in his chair.

“It’s simple. I’d like to get through these next several weeks as painlessly as possible. We’re both professionals with a job to do.”

Brice sat up in his chair. “That we are.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a manila envelope. “We can start by you signing the settlement papers so the lawyers can move forward with the divorce.”

He slid the envelope to Brooke. “I told you I don’t want your money. I just want to keep my name.”

“You mean my name, and I’m sure you do. It’s not like Brooke Smith would bring in the big clients.”

Brooke could nearly see the anger radiating from his body and he had every right to be furious with her, especially with the cowardly way she’d handled things but she felt she had no choice. Brooke thought her past, specifically the things she had done to put herself through school, and her present health issues would be too much to ask anyone to handle. Brooke knew how bad her request sounded, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason she wanted to remain a Kingsley—it was the only way she’d always have a connection to him and his family. They were the two things she never had before and didn’t think she ever would again.

“The only way you get to keep my name is if you take the settlement.”

“I don’t want or need your money. I can take care of myself,” she reiterated.

“I don’t give a damn if you want the money or not. It’s a few million dollars—give it to a charity if you like. I won’t ever be accused of not taking care of you,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Fine!” Brooke opened the envelope and pulled out the documents. “Got a pen I can borrow?”

“Sure.” Brice handed her the Montblanc she’d given him last year for his birthday. He handed her the pen and their eyes met, and for a brief moment, Brooke thought they’d softened until he broke contact and reached for his buzzing phone. Brooke signed in all the highlighted spots. She returned the documents to the envelope, handed it and his pen back to him. “Happy?”

“Hardly. Just one more thing. We’d appreciate it if any extracurricular activity you may have going on is kept under wraps.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows stood at attention.

“Just continue to be discreet and so will I.”

Brooke’s heart sank when she caught on to what he was talking about. Although, Brooke wasn’t entirely sure what he meant about her activities, she wanted to kick herself for being hurt by the idea of Brice moving on with his life. It’s what she wanted...what she thought was best. Brooke couldn’t get passed the lump in her throat to speak so she simply nodded.

“I’ll get the papers to the lawyers right away. In sixty days, you’ll be several million dollars richer and free of me. All just in time for our first anniversary.”

“Can you not do that?” Brooke looked down at her intertwined hands lying in her lap, hoping to hide the slight tremor.

“Do what?”

Brooke raised her head and met his leer. “Act like a petulant child.”

Brice raised his chin and narrowed his eyes but quickly relaxed his face. “Absolutely. We will keep things professional and limit our interactions.”

“Fine. Maybe we can get through this almost painlessly,” Brooke said, rising slowly from her chair. The last thing she wanted was for her legs to give out from under her. Brice stood, walked around his desk and came to stand in front of her. “We both know in our business...the world of finance...a world of precision, ‘almost’ doesn’t count.”

Brooke looked up into Brice’s eyes and they were no longer devoid of emotion; they had softened. She actually had a sliver of hope that maybe they could salvage some type of friendship from the mess she’d made. They had been close before anything else and she missed him.

“Excuse me, Brice,” a familiar voice interrupted. Brooke turned toward the door and saw Amy standing there, smiling at Brice with an excited look on her face as if she couldn’t wait to see him or something.

Before Brooke knew it, her old insecurities about Amy resurfaced. Their old arguments that Brice had dismissed as ridiculous and a growing friendship that the two shared annoyed Brooke to no end. Without warning all types of nonsense came flying out of her mouth. “Amy, you’re still here? Shouldn’t your internship be up by now? Don’t tell me you didn’t pass your class.” So much for not acting like a child. Brooke could feel Brice’s eyes on her, but she kept her own on Amy.

“No, I passed and graduated magna cum laude, in fact.” Amy frowned at Brice.

“Amy works for me now,” Brice explained with a confused look on his face.

“Does she now?” Brooke murmured.

“Do you need anything, Amy?” Brice asked.

“It can wait. I just needed to talk to you about the dinner—”

“We’re still on, right?” His eyes jumped between her and Brooke.

“Yes...of course,” she replied, her smile widening.

Brooke felt sick and needed to escape. “Don’t let me interrupt. I have to get to work, anyway.” She turned and walked out the door.

* * *

“What was that all about?” Amy asked, bug-eyed.

“Sorry about that. It’s just...” Brice ran his hand through his hair. He felt awful for using Amy in such a way and misleading Brooke. But the hurt and anger he tried to suppress surfaced at the thought of Brooke moving on with someone else, especially while he'd been pining after her, and made him want to strike back.

“I get it. You wanted a little payback for something she did. It’s not my business, but if you want to talk, I’m here,” she offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good. About what I said...” Brice rubbed the back of his neck.

Amy held up both hands. “No worries. You’re fine and all, but you’re not my type.”

Brice laughed and went to sit behind his desk. “I’m not?”

“Nope, but your cousin Travis on the other hand...” she informed him, smiling.

“Yeah, well, I hate to burst your bubble but you’re a bit young for him.”

“I’m only four years younger than you,” she reminded him.

“Yes, and six years younger than Travis. Trust me, you’re too young.”

Amy sat in one of the chairs that faced his desk. “I know. He already told me.”

Brice frowned. “He did? When?”

“When I asked him out,” she stated nonchalantly.

Brice chuckled and shook his head. “Fearless...”

“No disrespect, boss, but why was your ex being such a B toward me, anyway?”

“She’s always thought you had a crush on me,” he explained.

“Hardly...”

Brice checked his buzzing phone. “What did you want to tell me about Kristen’s dinner?”

“She needed to cancel. Something came up.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

“How about I take you to dinner? That way, what you told your wife won’t be a lie. Besides, you really do need to loosen up a bit. I know this great place downtown, so I’m not taking no for an answer,” she insisted.

“I thought I was the boss.”

Amy stood. “In this building you are, but at six, I’m in charge.” She left the office laughing.

Brice was thankful for the distraction Amy brought. He enjoyed her youthful energy and the enthusiasm she had for their work. Brice could never understand why Brooke had felt threatened by Amy, who was more like a sister to him than anything. He knew making Brooke think he was seeing Amy socially was petty, but given the way Brooke had reacted toward Amy, Brice saw an opening to seek a little revenge for everything she’d put him through, especially since he chose not to confront her and the man she was with in Paris. Walking away was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Only now, he felt horrible. Brice didn’t want to see Brooke hurt, because no matter how hard he tried not to, he still cared about his wife.

* * *

Brooke entered the office that had been hers for over a year and found that it hadn’t changed. The mahogany desk, which was a twin to the one in Brice’s office, was still in the same spot where she’d left it on the left side of the room in front of her wall of bookshelves. Brooke hadn’t wanted her desk placed in front of her windows, blocking her view of downtown Houston. Instead, she’d placed a small sofa and two chairs in the middle of the office—creating a small living room—so the views could be enjoyed by everyone visiting her. A ten-seater conference table had been placed across from the desk and living area and was adorned with six laptops, two printers and several boxes of documents that needed to be reviewed and audited.

“They didn’t change a thing,” Brooke announced, walking into the room.

“Nope, they didn’t,” Lori agreed, giving her friend the once-over. “Are you okay?”

“Yes... No, but I will be.” Brooke took a seat at the table.

“We’ve organized things by quarter,” Damon explained from his seat at the opposite end of the table.

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk about whatever just happened between you and Brice?” Lori’s jaw clenched and she crossed her arms at her chest.

“Not really,” she said, breaking eye contact with her friend.

“If you change your mind—”

“He’s actually dating Amy. Can you believe that?”

“Seriously?”

“Yep, but hey—” she shrugged “—if he wants to date a teenager, who am I to care? We’re nearly divorced.”

“What?” Lori’s mouth flew open but quickly closed.

“Oh, yeah, I signed the papers, including the settlement.”

“Good for you. Now you’ll have plenty of money for whatever you might need and you get to keep the name too, I assume. What a good business move.”

“I do and Brice agrees, but, you know that’s not why I’m keeping his name,” Brooke said defensively.

“I know.” Lori’s mouth twisted sideways.

Brooke could see the concern on her friend’s face “Seriously, it’s fine... I’m fine.”

“If you say so. By the way, Peter is picking you up after work.”

“What?”

Dr. Peter Schultz, a renowned neurologist from a family of physicians, was Brooke’s doctor and foster brother. “You can’t keep putting the man off, especially after he flew all the way to Paris to see you,” Lori explained, taking a seat at the table across from Brooke.

“I can’t deal with Peter right now. I need to focus on getting through this project.” Brooke reached for several files.

“Peter wanted to meet you for lunch. He was prepared to send a car for you. I told him you already had lunch plans, which you do. I know how you like to work through lunch on the first day of a new project. I ordered Chinese for us and pizza for Damon.”

“Good. Meat lovers, I hope?” Damon asked Lori.

“What else would I order for a carnivore like you?”

“Lori—”

“Peter needs to examine you.”

Brooke presented her hands. “See, Mother, no tremors. I’m not tired and no muscle spasms.”

“Good, now be sure to tell all that to Peter when he picks you up tonight. It's bad enough that only a handful of us know that you have multiple sclerosis and all you have to endure.”

“You even said the only reason you told your foster brother is because he happens to be a neurologist and you needed a doctor you ‘kind of’ trusted,” Damon added, using air quotes to emphasize his point. “Didn’t you swear him to secrecy too? Making sure he didn’t tell the rest of his family.”

“Yes, she did.” Lori nodded slowly. “I don’t get it either. You were diagnosed nearly four months ago with a positive prognosis.”

Yeah but for how long? With my luck, everything could change in a blink of an eye. “Guys, we’ve talked about this already. Growing up in the foster care system, you learn four major lessons.” Brooke used the fingers of her right hand to count them off. “One, keep your material possessions close at all times. Two, keep all bed and bathroom doors locked when you’re in the room. Three, expect the worst and consider yourself lucky if nothing bad happens. Four, the only person you can depend on is you. It took years for me to feel safe enough to open up even a little bit to people. Working day to day with you two made that easy.”

“And we love and appreciate you for it too. We’re here for you and always will be.” Lori looked over at Damon, who offered his agreement in the form of a wide smile. “But you need to expand your circle of trust, my friend...at least by one.”

Brooke knew exactly who she was referring to. She dropped her hands and released an audible sigh. “Remind me again why I keep you around.”

“I’d like to know that myself,” Damon interjected, clearly trying to bring more levity to the room.

Lori turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “Because I’m a brilliant assistant and a better friend.”

“At least she didn’t claim it was her legal expertise.” Damon returned his eyes to the papers he was holding.

“That too,” she countered, blinking her eyes dramatically.

“That’s enough, children. Let’s get to work,” Brooke ordered.

The trio spent the next several hours going through the first month of all the Kingsley financial transactions and IRS filings. The hours seemed to fly by and before Brooke knew it, the sun had set. She raised her arms out and stretched. “Wow, it’s after seven,” she announced.

“Oh, no, I have to go.” Lori started packing up her things. “John’s going to kill me. We’re supposed to meet with the wedding planner at seven-thirty.”

“You better go, you too, Damon. Call it a night.”

“You sure? I can stay until Dr. Schultz gets here,” Damon offered.

Brooke gave a nonchalant wave. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. I’m going to finish going through these bank statements and I’ll call Peter.”

“Are you sure?” Lori asked, standing by the door.

“I’m sure. Good work today, you two. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Brooke stood and watched as they both walked out the door. She kicked off her shoes and flexed her feet. Brooke pulled her phone out of her purse and placed the call she’d been avoiding since she’d landed back in Texas.

“Good evening, Brooke. Is everything all right?” the sweet baritone voice asked.

“Yes, Doctor, everything is fine. I understand you’re my ride back to the hotel tonight,” Brooke replied sarcastically as she stood in front of the window, enjoying the sparkling lights of the city.

“I am. Are you ready?” Peter asked, laughing; Broke knew he was responding to the annoyance in her voice.

“Not yet. I have about another hour’s worth of work left. Can you be here at eight-thirty?”

“Absolutely.”

“Call me when you arrive,” she advised before hanging up.

Brooke returned to her seat, where she picked up a bank statement and the highlighter and got back to her audit. She got through the last set faster than she’d expected. Brooke stood and started stacking all the files and papers when she heard the door open. She swirled around so fast she made herself dizzy. “Whoa...” She gripped the table to stay up right.

Brice was standing in the doorway and smirking. “You okay?”

“Yes. What are you doing here?” Brooke checked her watch. “It’s nearly eight—is it past Amy’s curfew?” Dammit...

Chapter 4

The corners of Brice’s mouth turned up. He always loved her quick wit and the way Brooke’s cheeks turned pink whenever she said something she wished she hadn’t. Brooke had removed her jacket, her arms exposed, and she stood in her bare feet. Brice’s eyes took their fill. Her naturally slim build was unusually thin, but he still thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Funny. No, her choice of restaurant was not really my taste.”

Brooke shrugged. “That’s what you get for dating a toddler.”

Brice leaned into the door frame. “Amy’s no toddler.”

Brooke turned her back to him, saying, “I bet.”

“Excuse me.”

Brooke slid her feet back into her shoes, walked around the table and started gathering up her things. “It’s none of my business, and who am I to question who you choose to spend your personal time with?”

“No, it’s not. You lost that right the night you left.”

Brooke raised her head and met his stormy gaze. “You’re right, my apologies.”

Brice pushed off the door frame and walked into the office. “No problem—”

“I just don’t see what you two could possibly have in common.”

“You’d be surprised.” Brice didn’t want to continue this line of questioning. His exaggeration was making him uncomfortable. It was time to change the subject. “So how was your first day back? I trust you have everything you need.”

“I do.” Their eyes collided at the familiar phrase they’d recited not so long ago. “I mean, everyone’s been very helpful.”

“So we should meet our established three-month timeframe?” he questioned, trying to keep his business persona intact when his traitorous body was responding to Brooke on a more personal level.

“Barring any surprises, yes, we should,” she reassured him confidently.

“Good. Have you eaten yet? There’s no reason we can’t be civil.”

“Actually—” Brooke’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.”

Brice saw a face he’d hoped he would never have to see again pop up on Brooke’s phone.

“You here?” Brooke answered.

“Yes,” Peter replied. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to leave without me.”

Brooke laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll be right down.” She ended the call and returned the phone to her purse.

“Sounds like you have other plans.” Brice pressed his lips together, preventing himself from asking questions he didn’t really want the answers to.

Brooke nodded. “But thanks for the offer... Rain check?”

“Sure.” Brice placed both hands in his pocket as he tried to keep a straight face, attempting to hide the disappointment that he wanted to kick himself for even feeling. “I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s really not necessary, but thank you.” Brooke reached for her jacket, only Brice beat her to it. He held it out and Brooke slipped both arms through each sleeve. Brice’s hands briefly rested on the small of her back as his senses were attacked by the scent of jasmine wafting from Brooke’s hair. Brooke looked over her shoulder, gazed up at him and whispered, “Thank you, Brice,” before stepping away.

Brice knew she was thanking him for more than helping with her coat. They’d rarely had disagreements, but when they did it usually ended quickly. Her kind heart just wouldn’t let things fester, which was another reason why he’d found her actions so unbelievable. Citing that their marriage was an impulse, she’d requested it be annulled, a request he flatly refused. Brooke's desire to keep his name was the only leverage he had to slow things down so he could try and find out what was really going on between them.

“You’re welcome.”

They walked out of the office and made their way to the elevator where they descended in silence. They exited the elevator and walked through the nearly empty lobby. Brice eyed the tall olive-skinned man leaning against a black town car with his arms crossed.

“Your ride?” Brice asked, setting his mouth in a tight line.

“Yes.”

Brice stopped short of the exit. “Have a good evening.”

“You too,” Brooke replied as she walked out the door.

The last thing Brice wanted was to stand there and watch as his rival greeted Brooke with an extended hand and helped her into his car. But Brice’s feet were glued to that spot. He knew he should walk away but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to get his feet to work.

* * *

After assisting Brooke into her seat, Peter walked around to the other side of the car and slid behind the wheel. “Are you okay?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.

“Yes, and I really wish everyone would stop asking me that question,” Brooke snapped back, staring out the car window.

Peter pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to Brooke’s hotel in silence. He parked in front and cut the engine. Peter shifted his body toward Brooke. “You ready to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Brooke frowned.

“Whatever it is that’s got you so upset.”

“I thought you were my neurologist, not my therapist,” she replied, collapsing her hands together in her lap.

“Right now, I’m prepared to be both.”

Brooke cleared her throat. “It was just a lot harder than I expected. Seeing Brice again, I mean.”

“Have you given any more thought to telling him the truth?”

“All the time, but the end result is always the same. Can we go upstairs and get this over with, Doctor?”

Brooke walked through the lobby of the hotel with Peter at her side. When she heard her name being called, Brooke turned toward the sound.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Kingsley,” the concierge called as he approached, holding a large manila envelope.

“Yes?” she replied.

“This was delivered this afternoon. I was instructed to hand it to you personally.”

Brooke’s heart sank as she guessed it held her copy of the divorce agreement. “Thank you,” she whispered, accepting the package. “Let me...” Brooke fumbled with her purse as tears burnt the back of her eyes. Her whole body went numb and it had nothing to do with her multiple sclerosis.

Brooke’s mind jumped back in time to the day she’d attended her sister-in-law China’s baby shower. It was the day that changed the course of her life. China looked especially beautiful; she was glowing like the moon on a clear night and if Brooke could have disappeared, she would have. She had just received her MS diagnosis and had been informed that pregnancy for her might not be possible, depending on her therapy. Her doctors explained that she could have a small window should she want to try and have a baby of her own, but they needed to determine her therapy as soon as possible. Brooke’s difficult childhood and pessimistic attitude toward having her own happily ever after only allowed her to believe the worst.

After receiving such devastating news, Brooke had been in no mood to celebrate but she had to show her support for China and Alexander. After all, they were her family now. Brooke smiled through the games and forced down delicious food and champagne. She held back tears when everyone asked when she and Brice were going to start having babies. It was only after people started taking bets on when that might happen that she found a reason to excuse herself.

It was that day—along with a not-so-veiled threat to expose her past to her new family—that Brooke had decided to leave Brice. She thought he deserved someone better than her. In her mind, her diagnosis just confirmed what she’d always known: She’d never be truly happy. Brooke hadn’t had a happy childhood, so how could she have a happy adult life?

“I got it.” Peter opened his leather bag, pulled out his wallet and handed the concierge a generous tip. Brooke stood, staring down at the envelope. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

Peter took Brooke by the elbow and led her to the elevator. She held the envelope to her chest as tears welled in her eyes. They rode up in silence, exited the elevator and walked the short distance to her door. Brooke crossed the threshold, wandered into the living room and gingerly sat on the sofa.

Peter went into the kitchen, removed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap and came back into the main room, handing the bottle to Brooke. “Drink.”

Brooke took several sips. “Thanks.” She set the envelope on the coffee table.

“Do you need a minute?”

Brooke took a deep breath and released it slowly. “No, let’s get this exam done.”

Peter removed a penlight and reflex hammer from his bag and placed them on the table. He stood and moved to the middle of the room. “You know the drill.”

Brooke kicked off her shoes, then went and stood in front of Peter. She presented her hands palms down. “No tremors.”

“Good.”

She extended her arms out to her side and brought her right index fingers to her nose. “I feel like I’m taking a sobriety test.”

“You say that every time,” he reminded Brooke. “Left hand, please.”

Brooke complied. “What’s next?”

“You know, walk the line. Heel to toe, please.”

Brooke released a loud moan. “Here goes nothing.” Brooke completed the task, but it took her longer than normal because she was tired and her muscles were reminding her of that fact.

“Not bad. Take a seat,” he instructed.

Brooke returned to the sofa and took several sips from her water bottle. She felt like she’d just run a mile full out. Peter checked her reflexes and responses to light. “Everything looks good,” he announced as he made notes on his tablet.

“I told you when you came to Paris that I was fine and symptom-free.” Peter gave her the side-eye. “Well, mostly symptom-free.”

“We talked about this. You're fortunate that you don't have the more common symptoms of motor problems, cognitive issues, severe pain and sexual dysfunction, to name a few, but that can change over time. While your symptoms aren’t chronic, flare-ups can be triggered by stress. The fatigue, muscle pain, numbness and tingling in your limbs can be hard on your system.”

“I know all of this, Peter.” Brooke reached for her room-service menu.

Peter continued as though she hadn’t said a word. “And while your symptoms will disappear and remain repressed when you remove the triggers, let’s try to avoid them altogether, shall we? Otherwise, you'll keep repeating the cycle.”

Brooke gave Peter a two-fingered salute. “Yes, sir.”

Peter packed his bag. “One more thing. I know you think you’re doing what’s best for your husband, but if I were him, I’d want to know the truth. MS isn’t a death sentence.”

“I know that, Doctor, but it can be a long and difficult journey.” Not to mention having to deal with my colorful past. That's too much to ask of anyone, no matter how much they love you.

“Yes, it can, but it can also be filled with lots of love and even children.”

“I don’t want to talk about this. I’m ordering food. Care for anything?” Brooke picked up the menu and started browsing through it.

“No, thank you, and I think we should,” he said, taking the menu from Brooke. “Having MS shouldn’t stop you from getting pregnant or having a healthy pregnancy. Now, if you were in the middle of a specialized treatment plan, that would be a different story and even then, we’d just suspend the treatments until you delivered. You’re nowhere near that, either.”

Not with my luck. A successful career is about as close as I'm going to get to having a family. “I understand you’re trying to help, but I’ve made my decision. I’m not dragging Brice into this mess of a life I have. He’s better off finding someone without so much baggage,” she declared, reaching for the menu.

“Fine, but don’t you think that’s a decision your husband has a right to make?”

“No! Now if you’re done—”

“Actually—”

“With your role as my medical doctor, I’d like to call it a night. I need to eat and get my rest. Doctor’s orders,” she reminded him, rising from her spot on the sofa.

Peter exhaled loudly. “Fine. I may be your doctor, Brooke, but you’re also my family. I just want you to be happy and it’s obvious you’re not happy about losing the only man you’ve ever loved.”

“I know you do, and I’ll always be grateful to you and your family for taking me in that last year I was in high school. Yours was the only foster home I ever felt safe in.”

“Just think about what I said.”

“Okay. You know, you really need to find a life of your own and stop worrying about mine.”

“So my mother keeps telling me.” He picked up his bag and walked to the door. “See you in a couple of months, unless you need me before then.”

“I won’t. Thanks, Peter.”

Brooke closed the door and suddenly she wasn’t hungry, but she knew she had to put some food in her stomach before she took her medicine. She went to the phone and ordered something light. After placing the request, she went to the bedroom, undressed and took a quick shower. Brooke was standing in the middle of the bathroom, her body wrapped in a large towel, squeezing the excess water from her hair with another, when she heard her cell phone ring. She walked back into the bedroom, picked up her phone on the dresser and looked at the screen. The name read unknown. “Hello.”

“I found you,” a muffled voice replied.

“Who is this?” Brooke asked before the line went dead. “Kids.” Brooke wrapped her hair in the towel, dried herself off and changed into a long nightshirt and shorts. She walked back into the living room and there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?”

“Room service,” a soft voice replied.

Brooke opened the door and stood back as the waitress rolled in a small table. She lifted the lid from the plate and said, “Chicken salad sandwich on a croissant. Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She handed Brooke the bill to sign and took her exit. Brooke picked up the plate, sat on the sofa and stared down at the envelope that would change everything. She forced herself to eat half her sandwich until she started to feel anxious, so she placed the plate back on the table and wheeled it outside the door.

Brooke walked out onto the balcony and took a couple of deep breaths. She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to contain her tremors. Her heart was racing and no matter how hard she fought, the dam broke and her tears fell. Brooke cried for the end of her marriage, for the fact that—as far as she was concerned and regardless of what the facts might have been—she’d never have children, but most of all, she cried because she knew she’d never stop loving Brice and somehow had to find a way to live with that realization.

Chapter 5

Brice circled and jabbed at the punching bag he had placed in the man cave he established in the lower level of the three-story house in the Houston Museum District he’d bought Brooke as a wedding present. It was a lovely starter home in the perfect location. He just recently turned the open concept lower level into the perfect getaway spot for a much-needed escape. Every time he walked upstairs, it was like the ghost of Christmas past, assaulting him with memories of the brief time he’d had there with Brooke.

He punched and kicked the freestanding bag until his arms, shoulders and legs screamed for surrender. Brice wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel as he walked to the small kitchenette and pulled out a large bottle from the refrigerator. He twisted off the cap and was gulping down water when he heard a knock on his door. What now?

“Who is it?” he called out harshly, not in the mood for visitors.

“It’s me, Brice.”

“Alexander?”

“Yeah, open up.”

Brice moved past the large sectional sofa sitting in front of two medium-size ottomans that doubled as coffee tables and a fifty-inch screen television mounted to the wall as he made his way to the door. “What’s up, A?” he asked, stepping aside, allowing his brother to enter.

“What’s up with you?” Alexander asked.

When Alexander walked through the door, still wearing the same suit he’d had on at the office, Brice knew this wasn’t a social call; something was definitely wrong. And if that wasn’t enough, the twitching muscles in his brother’s jaw certainly did.

“I’m good,” Brice lied. “Want a beer?”

“No, thanks. Look, Brice, I can only imagine how hard this must be...working with Brooke, I mean.”

“I know what you mean, man, and it’s fine.” He moved to his sofa and took a seat.

“You sure? Because we have a lot riding on making sure we’re cool with the IRS and Brooke is the one person that can ensure that happens. Her IRS experience and history with our company aside, she's family.”

“I’m sure. Damn, you sound more and more like Mother every day.”

“Well, in this instance, she’s right,” he stated.

“I guess. KJ will be on in a few—want to stay and watch the game?”

“Not this time. I’ll catch it at home, but first I have to pick up dinner and ice cream for China.”

Brice smirked. “Lucky you.”

“That I am,” Alexander acknowledged, taking a seat next to his brother. “So, today was good?”

Brice saw the doubtful look on his brother’s face. “Yes, it was. Brooke even signed the divorce agreement. I offered to take her to dinner but she had other plans...with another man.”

“Ouch...”

“But in fairness I did make it seem like I was seeing Amy, so I guess we’re even...kind of, anyway.”

Alexander’s eyebrows came to attention. “Amy, your research assistant?” Brice nodded. “And why would you do that?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Brice stood, walked to his refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He popped off the cap and took one long pull. Brice stood with his back to his brother. “I didn’t know just how much I missed her until I saw her again, but I can’t seem to get past my anger.”

Alexander rose and turned toward Brice. “Look at me, man.” Brice’s shoulders dropped and he turned and met his brother’s inquisitive gaze. “Look, if you want another shot with Brooke, you should just go for it. Remember the advice you gave me about China?”

“Yeah, but that was different.” He took another pull from his bottle.

“How so?”

“You two have always had something special. It just took several years before you figured out what it was,” Brice explained.

“You don’t think what you and Brooke had was special?”

“I thought so...”

“Look, I can’t tell you what to do, but I wouldn’t be so quick to walk away if there’s even the slightest chance she’s your One.”

“It’s not just up to me, A. Besides, she’s already moved on.”

“You sure about that?”

“She left me, remember?” Brice finished off his beer, tossed the bottle in the recycling bin and flopped back down on the couch.

“I remember. I also remember the BS ‘you two got married too soon...too young’ excuse she gave you too. I can’t believe you’re not digging deeper into that.” His eyebrows snapped together.

Brice reached for the TV remote and placed his feet up on the ottoman. “She signed the papers. It’s done.”

“You’re right. You are an idiot.” Alexander moved toward the door. “Just be sure to keep it professional at the office.”

“I’m over the shock. You know me, A. I’m a Kingsley and we’re all about our business.” Brice turned on the game.

“And that’s what I’m afraid of, little brother. Later.” Alexander walked out the door.

Brice hit the mute button. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift back to a time when he’d tried to watch his brother KJ’s game but Brooke had had something else planned...

* * *

Brice was in the living room sitting on the blue suede extra-long sofa that Brooke had insisted they needed, with his legs stretched out before him. In a gray T-shirt and a pair of long shorts, he was ready to coach his brother’s team to victory from his new sofa. He sat back, watching the TV, when Brooke shouted down from upstairs, “Honey, you ready?”

“For what?” he replied. Hearing no response, he said, “Sure, call in whatever you want to eat, as long as they deliver.”

Brooke laughed. The sound made him happy. Her laugh was one of the many things he loved about his new wife. “Cute,” she said as she descended the steps, stopping halfway down. “What are you doing?”

Hearing the surprise in her voice but oblivious to her appearance, Brice called out, “Watching the NBA’s preshow. KJ’s game starts in thirty minutes.”

Brooke reached the bottom of the stairs and stood staring at him in silence. Brice’s eyes shifted from the TV to his wife, who was standing there wearing a short black cocktail dress, strappy heels that showed off her sexy legs, and her hair and face made up like she was ready for a night of partying.

Brice’s mind raced. He was trying to figure out what he’d missed. It’s not date night. Brice’s body responded to the gorgeous sight before him and he quickly got to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“I thought we were going dancing.”

“Tonight? KJ’s playing.”

Brooke placed her hands on her hips. “You made these plans, remember?”

Brice quickly searched his mind and recollection of their brief conversation reared its ugly and badly timed head. “Oh, baby, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” He picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “Give me fifteen minutes to change.”

“Never mind.” She walked farther into the living room.

“Sweetheart, you’re all dressed up and ready to go. You look beautiful too.” He started to move toward her.

“Thank you, but please sit back down.”

Brice complied, expecting an argument would soon follow, only to receive the most pleasant surprise. “It’s no big deal,” she started to explain as she kicked off her shoes. She gifted Brice with a sexy smile. “I really wasn’t in the mood to go out. However, I’d like something else from you.”

Brice smiled up at his wife, waiting for the request that his body already knew; the front of his pants had tented. Brooke’s eyes dropped to his crotch and she bit her lip. “Exactly.”

Brice reached for Brooke, but she stepped back out of his reach. “I’m in control,” she stated emphatically.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Brooke reached behind her and lowered her zipper. It was a feat Brice always found fascinating to watch when all she had to do was ask for his help. The dress fell to the floor, revealing the black lace bra and panty set she wore beneath it. “When does the game start again?”

“Wh-what?” Brice had lost his ability to think. He’d seen Brooke in similar things but this was different. Her erect nipples were peeking out through two holes in the bra that were clearly made for that purpose. From his vantage point, he could see the panties were crotchless.

Brice was harder than he’d ever been and it took everything in his power not to take her where she stood. “My goodness, baby.”

“When does the game start?” she repeated. Brice could hear the humor in her voice.

“What game?”

“Good answer. Take off your shirt,” she ordered, and he quickly obliged. “Shorts next, please. I want to see it.”

Brice held her desire-filled gaze as he followed her instructions. He lowered his shorts to his thighs while he remained seated and his shaft made its grand entrance. A slow wicked smile spread across Brooke’s face and the anticipation for what was about to happen had Brice silently praying for a less horny teenager-like response and a more controlled man-type one. He soon found that that wasn’t at all what Brooke wanted.

Brooke dropped to her knees, gripped his thighs with both hands and parted his knees. “Oh damn...”

Brooke used her nose and closed mouth to play with his substantial erection. Brice’s mind was racing; she was driving him crazy. While Brice loved what she was doing, he wanted to be inside of her mouth. He reached for her head, only to have his hands swatted away. “I’m in control.”

“But, baby...”

“But what?” Brooke asked before her tongue began circling his shaft from the base to the tip. After several passes, Brice moaned Brooke’s name and he knew how desperate he must’ve sounded but he didn’t care. It must have been some type of trigger because Brooke took him in her mouth. She sucked and pulled on him as if she was determined to relieve him of some sweet elixir.

Brice was lost in the moment. He buried his hands in her hair and his hips matched her stroke. All he could think about was how much he loved and needed her. Brooke lifted her eyes as she caught him staring down at her. She released him, kissed her way up his stomach to his chest, following the fine line of hair. Brooke straddled Brice, lowering herself onto his sex until he was deep inside of her. Brice was thankful Brooke was on the Pill because if he had to stop and go find a condom he just knew his head would explode.

Brooke gazed into his eyes, whispering how much she loved him. She brought her knees in slightly, gripped the back of the sofa and rode him like she was on a horse in the Kentucky Derby. Brice’s hands cupped Brooke’s behind and he took her nipples into his mouth. He sucked and pulled on them hard just the way he knew she liked it. Her moans of satisfaction, orgasms and declarations of love ignited uncontrollable passion.

When Brooke’s walls started to grip him with each thrust, Brice found himself thinking about math equations, chess moves, anything he could think of to keep him from reaching completion before Brooke. The two orgasms she’d already experienced were clearly the appetizers for the meal she was after. Soon, he could no longer distract himself.

“Brooke...baby...” Brice yelled as he exploded.

“Yes...baby...yes,” she screamed, having reached completion with him, collapsing into his arms.

* * *

Brice’s eyes popped open and he sprang forward, releasing a string of profanity. He saw that the game had started but he looked down at his erection that needed to be handled first. “Damn, so much for not acting like a horny teenager. Back in a little bit, bro. Right after a long cold-ass shower,” he explained to the TV.

He walked into the small three-quarter bathroom, stripped and walked under the overhead spray, hoping the cool water would calm his raging desire that thoughts of Brooke had invoked. Unfortunately, it only suppressed his passion, not quelling it. He decided there was only one way to do that; only he had no idea how he was going to make that happen.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.