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Page 3


  “Fuck,” he groaned as he collapsed against her, his breath heavy in her ear. They lay like that for long moments as their breathing slowed into a matching rhythm. “You’re mine, Allie. All mine.”

  Exhausted, she ran her fingers lazily down his spine. “Yours,” she replied, though neither of them needed the reassurance. Nothing could come between them, not time nor distance. Not even tragedy, blackmail, or betrayal. After ten years they were finally getting their happily ever after and nothing was going to stand in their way.

  Chapter Three

  Allie spun her chair around to face the wall of windows that framed her desk. It was April, but in Chicago that was far from Spring and though the sun reflected off the river below, the wind that howled past Ingram Media still carried winter’s bite. Even indoors she could feel the chill, and for the hundredth time that day her thoughts shifted to her upcoming honeymoon. Hudson had kept the details of the trip top secret but she’d managed to convince him to at least tell her what type of climate to expect. Nothing like threatening to pack one of everything to get even the most tight-lipped control freak to crack. Still, all she knew was that their destination was tropical.

  Her eyes drifted shut and an image of Hudson filled her mind. He was relaxing on a white, sandy beach. A balmy breeze was giving his dark, unruly hair that freshly fucked look she loved creating with her questing fingers, and the crystal-clear water was turning his eyes the most amazing shade of turquoise. But it was the smile on his face that caused a warmth to spread through her belly. It was a mix of love and lust that made it clear he was about to prove she was his and his alone, thoroughly and repeatedly.

  A tap at the door pulled Allie from her daydream. “Come in,” she called out, straightening in her chair and turning it back toward her desk.

  The door opened and her assistant poked his head around the frame, his light brown hair falling in a perfectly disheveled mess over his bright green eyes. With his boyband hair and cover model looks, Colin James was a far cry from the matronly assistant her father had employed when he was CEO of Ingram. But it was his razor-sharp mind and degree from the nation’s top journalism school that had made him truly stand out from the many applicants she’d considered. On top of that he had a love of classical music that might have trumped even Allie’s. During his interview Colin had explained how he wanted to gain practical experience—not to mention earn some much-needed tuition money—before pursuing his MBA, and after reading the glowing letters of recommendation from his professors at Medill, Allie was more than happy to give him that chance. It didn’t take long for her to realize her instincts had been right. Colin had proved to be not only a valuable asset, but he was quickly becoming a trusted friend.

  “Your three o’clock is here,” he said.

  Allie frowned. She had intentionally left the rest of the day free. Between her responsibilities at Ingram and her new position on the board of Chase Industries, she’d fallen behind on . . . well, just about everything. The afternoon was supposed to be her chance to catch up on e-mails, check in on the progress of the new women’s shelter the foundation was opening next month, and maybe, just maybe, sneak away early and surprise her husband at work—sans panties. A three o’clock appointment would definitely put a wrinkle in those plans. Perhaps she could cancel. “Can you reschedule?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Nope?” Her voice shot up, along with her eyebrows. Colin wasn’t usually so unyielding. Whoever this meeting was with must have been some piece of work. “Who’s this meeting with anyways?”

  “Me,” he said, flashing a megawatt grin.

  “My three o’clock is with you?”

  “Yes, we need to go over a few wedding details.”

  Allie’s shoulders sagged. Despite his incredible efficiency and enthusiasm, even Colin couldn’t make planning a wedding tolerable. Allie had barely survived the process once; twice was more than anyone should have to endure.

  “Before you say anything . . .” He pushed the door open and stepped into the room. His iPad and a large rolled-up paper were tucked under his arm, and in his hands he held two pints of Haagen Daz Chocolate Chocolate Chip. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Allie narrowed her eyes but she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Don’t you mean bribes?”

  He laughed. “Whatever it takes.”

  “How bad is it?”

  Colin set the ice cream on her desk and handed her one of the plastic spoons. “Well, I didn’t bother with a bowl, so that should tell you something.”

  “It’s eat-straight-from-the-carton bad?”

  He nodded gravely. “I’m afraid so, Boss Lady.”

  Allie reached for the small tub, then slumped back into her leather chair. “Okay, but let me get a few bites before you hit me with the heavy stuff.” She was kidding—mostly—but Colin still waited until she’d pried the lid off and peeled the plastic back before firing up his tablet.

  “Think of it as a game show. Wedding Jeopardy!”

  She dragged the spoon across the top of the tub, gathering as many chocolate chips as she could. “That sounds daunting.”

  “Pick your category: catering, flowers, gown fittings, or cake?”

  Allie groaned around a mouthful of ice cream. “I’ll take ‘None of the Above’ for one hundred, Alex.”

  Colin swiped his finger across the screen. “How about ‘Guest List and Seating Chart’ for five hundred instead?”

  “Oh no, that’s a Double Jeopardy question for sure. And besides, we finalized that weeks ago.”

  “Mr. Wentworth called earlier.” Colin unrolled the now all-too-familiar diagram of round tables. “He really thinks you should include several of the key shareholders.”

  “Oh, does he?” Allie shouldn’t have been surprised. Wentworth wasn’t just an Ingram Board member, he was one of her late mother’s oldest friends. Like Victoria Ingram Sinclair, Duncan Wentworth put a premium not only on social status but the appearances created to that end. The man had never worked a day in his life, but thanks to money older than most anyone else in the city, he wielded a ridiculous amount of influence. Whenever possible, Allie placated the veteran board member, but this was where she drew the line. She and Hudson had wanted a small, intimate gathering, but somewhere over the past few weeks things had started to spin out of control. Suggesting the guest list be affected by stock transactions was taking things one step too far. It was time to pull in the reigns.

  “The answer is no. Absolutely no more guests.” It had only been the two of them when they’d exchanged vows standing in a candlelit barn dressed in faded jeans. It had been the perfect wedding, and in truth was the only one they needed. But despite the perfection of that night, both of them felt badly about not being able to celebrate with their close family and friends. For her part, Allie had always envisioned Harper as her maid of honor and she knew Hudson would have liked to have had his brother at his side. This second wedding was supposed to be a chance for the two of them to reaffirm their vows with the people who mattered most to them in attendance. It wasn’t a society event and it certainly wasn’t an Ingram Media board meeting.

  Allie rubbed her temples, trying to quell the frustration brewing inside her before she inadvertently took it out on Colin.

  “Maybe I should give you a minute,” he said. The guy wasn’t just good at his job, he was good at reading her. He knew exactly when to push and exactly when she’d reached the end of her rope.

  “Yeah, I think maybe that’s a good idea.” Allie waited until Colin had closed the door behind him then kicked off her shoes. Taking the pint of ice cream with her, she made her way over to the windows, flexing her toes in the soft carpet as she shoveled a heaping scoop of ice cream into her mouth. Below her the Michigan Avenue Bridge was being raised to allow boat traffic to pass. As she watched the steel structure rise in some sort of maritime salute,
it occurred to her that the river was finally back to normal after having been dyed an almost fluorescent green in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day.

  Normal.

  The word rolled around inside her head. There was a time not that long ago when Allie thought nothing in her world would ever feel normal again. After her parents were murdered in cold blood in their Lake Forest home it felt like the entire world had stopped spinning, then reversed. But with the help of her best friend and the man she loved—not to mention her nearly clairvoyant assistant—life had slowly begun to fall back into place. In fact, in many ways life was better than ever and her relationship with Hudson topped that list. So why was she pacing her office with a tub of ice cream in her hand?

  Allie was about to reload her spoon when her hand paused in midair. He’d made no sound, but all at once she knew he was there. She could feel his commanding presence caress her like a lover’s touch. Her lover. Her husband. Her Hudson.

  She turned to meet his piercing stare. His gaze washed over her heated skin, sending a rush of pleasure through her core. This was the effect he had on her. No matter her mood, the mere sight of him both aroused and calmed her like no other. Despite being the late afternoon of what had no doubt been a hectic day at Chase Industries, Hudson looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine ad for designer suits. The one he’d selected that morning was black with a subtle pinstripe and the silver blue tie he’d paired it with not only did crazy things to his eyes, it was making Allie want to do crazy things to him. Right there in her office. On her desk. Oh hell, who was she kidding—the floor would do just fine.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he asked.

  When she spoke her voice was breathy. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m your three thirty. Colin called me this morning to schedule, thought you might need it after he hit you with all the wedding decisions.” Hudson chuckled. “I believe he referred to me as a ‘little pick- me-up’.”

  Allie’s gaze dropped to the seating chart Colin had left spread out on her desk. “I don’t want to do this,” she whispered.

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for cold feet, Mrs. Chase.” He held up his left hand and the platinum band she’d slid on his finger three months prior caught the light. “You’re already hitched.”

  She set the tub of ice cream on the corner of her desk and made her way toward her husband. As always, he was waiting for her with open arms. When she reached him he stepped forward, closing the distance between them until it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.

  “Marrying you was the single best decision I’ve ever made,” she said, snuggling against him. “And one I will never take back. Face it, Chase, you’re stuck with me.”

  His lips brushed her temple then her hair. “Excellent. So what’s the problem?”

  “Everything else.”

  Hudson slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that her eyes met his. “Talk to me.” Reluctantly Allie began to recount the many wedding-related issues that had arisen in the last several weeks. When she finished, a crease marred Hudson’s dark brow. “Why didn’t you tell me things had gotten so out of control?”

  “You have enough on your plate. The last thing I wanted was to burden you with all this.” She shook her head. “But it’s too much. This isn’t what we wanted, it’s not us, it’s, it’s . . .” Realization hit her and she exhaled a heavy sigh. “It’s my mother. This is exactly the wedding she envisioned for me and Julian and I don’t want any part of it, Hudson. Nothing about this rings true anymore.”

  “Then we’ll call it off,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “We can’t do that.”

  “The hell we can’t, Alessandra. It’s our wedding. We can damn well cancel it if we want to.”

  “Okay, let me rephrase: we can’t do that to Nick and Harper.” Allie ran her fingers through Hudson’s wavy hair. Instinctively, he leaned into her touch. “They were happy for us when they found out we’d eloped,” she said. “But we were in the emergency room in a life or death situation.” Her chest tightened at the mere mention of that horrible night. She couldn’t bear to think how close she came to losing her husband before their life together had even officially begun. “Not exactly the time or place to complain about not being invited to our wedding.”

  “I’m sure my brother and the redhead will survive.”

  “You know they were disappointed that they couldn’t have been with us.” The corners of her mouth turned down ever so slightly. “And we felt the same way, Hudson. That night was perfect, but I know you would have liked to have had Nick standing next to you.”

  “Searching his pockets for the ring, no doubt.”

  Allie smiled up at him. “And if Harper misses out on another wedding cake, she will never forgive me.”

  Hudson’s eyes searched hers for a few moments before a look of total resolve formed on his face. Allie knew that look well. She’d seen it countless times in the boardroom, and quite a few in the bedroom as well.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “How?”

  “Leave that to me.” He placed a kiss on her nose. “I’ll take care of you as well, Mrs. Chase.”

  “Of me?”

  His eyes were lit with amusement. “Hmm, your tells are quite obvious.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Do you really think I missed the way your weight shifted as you pressed your thighs together just now, or the fact that your nipples hardened against the fabric of your dress, or how—”

  Allie flushed. “All right, all right, you’ve made your point.”

  “Not quite, but I will.” The amusement in his blue eyes had faded, and in its place was a dark, smoldering look that made her toes curl. “Let’s go.”

  “Now? It’s not even four o’clock.”

  “Perks of being the boss.”

  “Hudson, seriously, I’m a big girl. I can keep it together for a few hours if you have things to wrap up at Chase. We can just meet at the penthouse at six like we planned.”

  “And waste a perfectly good limo ride home?”

  She laughed. “It’s five blocks.”

  “I’ll tell Max to drive slowly. Now let’s go. My wife has that ‘fuck me’ look in her eyes and I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  Chapter Four

  Soft moans shattered through Hudson’s deep sleep. Busting up off the pillows, Allie gasped in a deep breath that seemed to be biting down on a scream.

  Hudson shot up with her. “What’s the matter?” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and he could feel the cold sweat that had dampened every inch of her skin. The penthouse heater was blowing on full blast—not to mention she was sleeping next to him, a living furnace as Allie frequently pointed out—yet she was ice-cold and shivering.

  “Are you okay?” He gently swept her blond hair away from her face.

  “I’m fine.” Allie wiped at her eyes before meeting his concerned gaze. Her words were meant to reassure, but what he was seeing didn’t jive with what she was selling.

  Hudson lifted a brow and scrutinized every nuance of her face.

  “Really, I am,” she said again. But this time she didn’t look at him, focusing her attention instead on the bedding. She smoothed out the blankets and rolled them back in a thick fold. Yeah, he wasn’t buying this bullshit. His beautiful, perfect, and downright brilliant woman didn’t sound right. In fact, the tone in her voice was all wrong.

  “Talk to me, Allie.”

  Allie closed her eyes and sagged as she blew out a breath. He’d been through the sleep-time PTSDs and knew from experience that she was trying to shake off the remnants of whatever images had been playing on repeat in her head. And he’d bet a million to one that it wasn’t some far-flung nightmare conjured from fantasy. Not when reality had been so much worse than any horror movie. So ma
ny times after pulling himself out of the night terrors, he’d wished it had all just been a bad dream and not segments of his reality burping its way through his psyche. Because that’s the shit that stayed with you. Like a bad stain on your favorite shirt.

  “It’s just sometimes . . .”

  Hudson dipped his head to catch her eye. “Sometimes?”

  “Really, it’s nothing. Just a dream.” Allie gave him a half-assed smile. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

  She tried to pull away but Hudson wasn’t having it. “Alessandra, you’re evading. And if I recall, that crap didn’t fly when I attempted to pull the same routine with you.”

  Allie refocused on him, then hesitated. Sadness from one hell of the nightmare was in her eyes. He pulled her against his chest and leaned back against the pillows. Holding her tight, he felt her finally relax into him.

  “Take your time, baby. What was it about?”

  She swallowed hard as if the blackness was still closing in on her and retelling the horror of it all was grabbing at her throat.

  “Mostly images from that night.” Allie paused and drew a deep breath through her nose. “I close my eyes and I see it all over again.” She didn’t specify which night and she didn’t have to. Hudson knew she was referring to the evening she’d arrived at her childhood home to find her parents lying in pools of their own blood. “You know, when I was little I used to sneak down that hall to my dad’s office. He’d be in there most nights and nearly every weekend, but when I would peek my head around the door he’d smile and wave me in.” She was looking at him but her gaze was distant. “I’d sit in one of those big leather chairs, swinging my feet back and forth while he talked on the phone, and when he was done he’d ask me about school or my dolls or dance class.” The corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. “And he’d always have a butterscotch candy for me when I left.”

  Allie looked down at her hands. Her fingers were clutching a section of the bed sheet. “I used to hate the way my mom obsessed over every detail of that gaudy dining room. But she loved it. Her own mini Versailles, she used to say. Then Julian’s shooter riddled those mirrors with bullet holes. Now whenever I think of either of them, all I can picture is the . . .”