A Bride for the Black Sheep Brother

Fourteen


He gazed at her through narrowed eyes, like he was just waiting to be sucker punched.

“I hired a P.I.,” she said without ceremony.

She had wanted this conversation to go very differently. She had wanted to tell him after the exhibition as sort of a celebration. But then she’d met the snowboarders and now she had doubts about the lodge. Suddenly, she knew she had to tell him this now, while there was still a chance he’d listen.

“A P.I.?”

“His name is Jack Harding. I know Hollister said it was ‘against the rules.’” She added air quotes in case he couldn’t read her low opinion of Hollister’s rules from just her tone. “But the way I see it, those rules are for you, Dalton and Griffin. I’m not competing for the money. I’m not technically in the game. So I figure I’m exempt. Which means I can hire anyone I want to find the heiress.”

Cooper had crossed his arms over his chest and was watching her with an inscrutable expression.

She crossed to the kitchen counter, grabbed her tote bag and pulled out the few pages of emails from Jack that she’d printed out at the hotel business center. “I had him start looking for Ginger at the hotel where we held the Children’s Hope Foundation gala.” She flipped through the papers. “They had no idea who Ginger was, which seemed odd at first. But then the catering manager admitted that it wasn’t unusual for them to hire temp waitstaff for events like that.” She held out one of the papers to Cooper. “Here’s the email from the temp agency. They don’t have an employee named Ginger, either. Which made me think she must have given me a false name.”

She paused, half expecting him to ask why Ginger would have done that. Portia looked at him expectantly, but he said nothing. Instead, he just stared at the page in front of him almost as if he wasn’t even seeing it.

Then she continued, trying to recapture her previous interest in the search, but floundering a bit. When she and Jack had discussed all this, it had seemed like such a revelation. It had seemed important. “After all, when I talked with her, she’d just tipped a drink down my mother’s back. She probably thought she was in trouble with her boss. So I asked Jack to go to the hotel and ask the other employees, which he did. And here’s where it gets weird.”

She paused again. This time, Cooper looked up at her, eyebrows raised infinitesimally.

“He talked to twenty-one employees and twelve of them remember a waitress matching her description, but no one remembers hiring her. Or paying her. And of those twelve employees, five of them remember different names. She’s a phantom.”

Cooper pushed the printouts back across the table toward her, some of the tension in his expression fading. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything. You found nothing.”

She pushed the papers back defiantly. “This isn’t nothing!”

“You didn’t find her.”

“No. I didn’t find her real identity, but I definitely found her.”

He tapped a finger in the center of the top page. “There’s nothing here to indicate this is the woman at all.”

“I found a woman who is trying very hard to hide her identity from us.”

“Why on earth would she do that?”

“I think she knows we’re looking for her. I think she knows she’s Hollister’s daughter.” She was sure she was right. So sure about it that her heart was racing, slamming into her ribcage. “Everyone in Houston knows the Cains attend the Children’s Hope gala. If she found out she was a Cain and just wanted to scope out the situation, that would be the perfect opportunity. She could walk in disguised as one of the waitstaff and watch the family members and see how they interact, all without revealing her identity to us.”

“Your logic there is faulty,” he said with a sneer. “You assume she’s trying to hide her identity from us. When in fact, she may have no idea we exist. All we know for sure is that she’s trying to hide her identity.”

“What other reason could she have for showing up at the gala and working without getting paid?”

“She could be a pickpocket or a thief.”

“Right. Your long-lost sister is a character in a Dickens novel.” Why didn’t he see it? Why was he so damn determined to make this complicated? “Or we could figure that maybe since the Cains have been searching for her for over a year that maybe somebody did something to tip their hand.” She waited, heart still pounding, for some glimmer of interest from him. “Why are you so determined to downplay this? This is a clue about the identity of your sister.”

He whirled on her. “No, it’s not. You haven’t discovered anything about her. This is just more information about a woman we’re not even sure exists. What is it you expect me to feel here?”

She threw up her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t even care. I just want you to feel something.”

“Why?” He stalked a step closer to her. “Why should I feel anything about this? Even if you actually found Hollister’s daughter, even if she was standing right outside the door, why should I feel anything about her?”

“Because she’s your sister.”

“No. She’s not. I don’t have a sister. This woman, whoever she is, is just another one of Hollister’s bastards. For all we know, there are dozens of women just like her. Hell, there are probably hundreds. So why the hell are we all so hot to find this one woman?”

“Because she’s your sister,” Portia repeated, softly this time, because she almost couldn’t speak past the lump of emotion clogging her throat.

“I have nothing in common with this woman. Shared genetic code does not make her my family.”

“Is that how you feel about Griffin and Dalton, too?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you spent summers with them since you were ten.”

“Yes.”

“Even though you lived with them after your mom died? Even though Caro took you in?”

“The fact that I lived in the same house with them never made me part of the family.”

Her frustration burst out. “You know what, you’re right. It didn’t.” Now it was her turn to stalk closer to him. “You know what makes someone part of the family? Spending time with them. If you’d wanted to be part of the Cain family, then you damn well should have made an effort. For years, I invited you to visit. I invited you for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Every time we had any kind of family gathering, I invited you. You almost never showed up. Half the time you didn’t even bother to reply, so don’t bitch now about not being part of the family.”


He tipped his head back and laughed. “That’s great. Just great.”

She blinked, startled by his mercurial mood shift. “What?”

“You. Giving me a hard time about not coming to family functions.”

“Why is that funny?” He was still laughing and it unnerved her. What didn’t she know?

“It’s not funny so much as ironic.” The laughter settled into a grin tinged with bitterness. “You ever think about why I didn’t attend all those warm family gatherings?”

“You were busy. You had work and travel.” She parroted the excuse he’d always given her. And then, so she wasn’t the only one thrown off-balance, she added, “And I assume plenty of Swedish models to keep you occupied.”

“Right. The Swedish models. Haven’t you ever wondered why all those Swedish models bother you so much?”

He was clearly baiting her, so she bumped her chin up and narrowed her gaze. “As a feminist I don’t like to see any woman devalue herself so much that she’ll sleep with a guy merely because he has an Olympic medal.”

He smirked. “Nice try, but no. The Swedish models bother you for the same reason I never came to Cain holiday functions.”

She frowned. “There’s no connection—”

“I stayed away all those years because I knew I was attracted to you. I stayed away because I knew you felt it, too.”

She wanted to protest, but all her words were encased in shock. And he didn’t give her a chance to say anything anyway.

He closed the distance between them in a few quick steps and cupped her jaw in his hands. His touch was gentle, but firm, unrelenting, so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“There’s been an attraction between us since that day in the church. I’ve wanted you. I stayed away because it was easier than being around seeing you married to my brother.”

She shook her head. “I would never have—”

“I know that. You’re a good person, maybe the best person I know. Decent in a way that Dalton didn’t even deserve. And I know you never would have acted on that attraction. But that wouldn’t have stopped me from being the jerk who tried to tempt you. So I stayed away.”

She just stood there, staring into his amazing blue eyes, watching the emotions flicker in his gaze. A horrible pain spread through her chest, crushing her lungs, breaking her heart.

Because until now, she hadn’t been ready to face the real reason they couldn’t be together—her relationship with Dalton. Sure, they’d talked about Dalton and about her marriage, but neither of them had gone so far as to admit that this attraction had been simmering for years.

As long as this was just a fling, it didn’t matter. It was just between the two of them and neither of them had to face the reality of what a relationship would mean.

“You’re right,” she said numbly.

“I am.”

“I mean, yes, there always has been something between us. Neither of us ever would have acted on it, but it was there. And as long as this was just a mindless fling, I could pretend that none of this—what’s happening now—had any connection to my real life. But I don’t think I can pretend that anymore.”

He just stared at her blankly. “So then we’re over,” he finally said.

His words made her heart break a little more, even though she had no idea why, because their relationship had always had a sell-by date. They were never going to last forever, so why did it hurt so much to end it?

“Yes.”

He strode over to her and grabbed her arms, pulling her toward him just a little, searching her expression. “I’m not okay with this.”

“I’m not, either,” she admitted. “But what’s the alternative? That we start dating? That I take you home to meet my parents? That we tell your brother that we’re sleeping together? For what? All because we happen to enjoy each other’s company in bed? Look, I know that’s not how this works. Women are like accessories to you. The naughty models and Olympic scandal were for the rebellious stage of your life. But now that you want respectability, you’re going for the nice rich girl and the high-end hotel. This has been fun, but I never expected it to last forever.”

She purposely threw his words back at him. It was petty of her, the way she wanted to hurt him just a little bit because he’d hurt her so much, but she did it anyway.

He dropped her arms and stepped back. “No. I guess neither of us wants that.” He shook his head, letting out a bitter little laugh. “But I’m still not okay with it.”

“Well, if you don’t like that, then you’re really not going to like this. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You and I?” he asked grimly. “I think we just covered this territory.”

“Not you and I. This. Turning Bear Creek Lodge into a luxury resort.”

His gaze narrowed. “You’ve gotten too attached to it, haven’t you? You got caught up in the romanticism of the history and—”

“That’s not it.” He started to say something else, but she held up her hands to cut him off. “Stop interrupting me and let me get this out. It’s not that I don’t want you messing up the lodge. It’s that I think anything you do to this place is getting in your own way.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yes, it does. You’re so sure that there’s a market for a high-end resort for snowboarders, and I’m sure you’re right. But would you actually want to hang out with the snowboarder who would come here? I’ve met your friends. They would come here because you’re here, but they wouldn’t come here just for the resort.”

“You think Drew and Stevey and those guys are my friends?”

“They came here to help you, didn’t they?”

“They came here for the snow.”

“No. They came here for you. Because they think you’re great. You weren’t out there when they were building the jump. You didn’t hear the things they said about you. I know you think they were just hitting on me, but you’re wrong. It never even crossed their minds, because they all assumed we were together. They all talked you up to me. They may enjoy the powder, but they came here for you. Because you’re their friend.”

For a second, he just stared at her, like he couldn’t quite wrap his brain around her words. Then his gaze dropped and he gave a little nod. “Maybe.”

“And if I had to guess, I’d say you genuinely like them, too. That you admire them more than you do some jerk like Robertson or your father.”

His lips twisted into a smile. “That’s obvious.”

“So then why are you so desperate to prove yourself to Robertson and Hollister? Why do you give a damn what they think? Why not do whatever the hell you want to with this lodge? Why not market it to people whose opinion matters to you?”

When he looked back up at her, his expression was flat. “I’m marketing it to people like you.”

She felt a stab of pain near her heart. “Exactly. You’re marketing to people like me.”

People who he thought cared about luxury and style more than substance.

“Don’t you get it?” she asked. “You’re marketing this hotel to people you don’t really like. People you wouldn’t want to spend time with. I think it’s a mistake.”


He just looked at her. “After all this work we’ve both put into this, now you’re telling me? What’s the point?”

“The point is, I’m not going to be around to tell you these things next week or the week after. If I think you’re making a mistake, I have to tell you now. Now is all I have.”

That had seemed so simple just a few weeks ago. But in this moment, it broke her heart to admit it aloud.

She waited to see if he would acknowledge her words, if he would admit that she was right. But instead, he just shook his head.

“You’re wrong. Beck’s Lodge is going to be amazing. It’s the best thing I can do with Flight+Risk.”

She wanted to keep arguing with him, but what else could she say? In the end, it was his decision. Maybe Bear Creek Lodge would be his downfall after all. It had certainly been hers.