The Owner of His Heart

CHAPTER TWENTY





THE MORNING of the Sinclair Ball, Nathan could be found in his office, staring out of his panoramic window, still trying to figure out how to get Layla to sign the pre-nup. So far, he’d cajoled her, threatened her—he’d even offered to double the amount of her pay out in case of a divorce. But she just kept denying him, insisting he let her stay in Pittsburgh, so their relationship could progress naturally. Like a natural progression was even possible given their history.

The problem with Layla was she truly believed everything between them could be solved with love and trust. However, before she’d lost her memory, she’d come to the conclusion Andrew was a much better choice for her. And even if she had been serious about loving Nathan, as she now insisted she must have been, she had obviously loved Andrew more.

And though he’d harbored a great bitterness against her all of these years, he couldn’t say he didn’t understand her logic. Andrew was the good guy, even-keel and intelligent. Why wouldn’t she want to be with him as opposed to Nathan?

Nathan understood Layla couldn’t stay with him and be faithful to him without a legal document like the one he’d put forward. He was insisting on the contract for her own good. If they weren’t married, if and when she and Andrew met again, then she’d fall for him. She’d feel guilty about it, but she wouldn’t be able to deny how well they fit together, how little they argued compared to her and Nathan, and eventually she’d choose Andrew.

But if she signed the contract, if she formally promised to stay with Nathan, her out-of-whack honor code wouldn’t allow her to switch brothers. He knew Layla, and he knew she’d ask for a divorce and leave town on her own before she ever violated her marriage vows. If she signed the contract, she might hurt him again, but it wouldn’t be with Andrew.

However, Layla didn’t get that. She wanted him to trust her, but she didn’t understand she couldn’t be trusted when it came to Andrew.

“Brooding again?”

He looked up to see Kate standing in the doorway. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“She still won’t sign the contract, huh?”

Nathan ground his teeth. “No.”

Another strange side effect of his relationship with Layla had been a warming of his working relationship with Kate. Over the weeks, he’d asked his assistant to do so many things in regards to Layla, eventually she’d come to know more about the inner workings of their strange affair than anyone else.

She came in and sat down in one of his guest chairs. “I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “How exactly did you ask her to marry you?”

“I didn’t ask her to marry me,” Nathan answered. “I explained to her what the pre-nup entailed and then she spent the next two weeks refusing to sign it.”

Kate nodded. “That’s what I thought. Do you think you might catch more flies with honey?”

Nathan shook his head. “I’m not catching your meaning.”

“Well, Layla’s a sweet girl. And though your contract terms are very generous, maybe what she needs is a romantic proposal. For example, if instead of saying, ‘Hey, Layla, sign this pre-nup,’ you presented her with a ring and actually said, ‘Layla, I love you, will you marry me’ then maybe she’d say yes to the rest of it as well.”

Nathan sat forward, liking where Kate was going with this, but...“I can’t tell her I love her until she agrees to marry me.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re not in high school, Mr. Sinclair. There’s nothing wrong with telling her how you feel.”

“There’s also nothing wrong with playing my cards close to the chest until I’m sure I’m in control of the game.”

His secretary actually rolled her eyes at him. Two months ago, she wouldn’t have dared. “Fine, then. How about just ‘Layla, will you marry me?’ Women really do like to hear the words.”

Nathan nodded, warming up to the idea. “I could do it at the Sinclair Ball. Make it romantic.”

“Exactly.” Kate pulled out her smartphone. “Would you like me to pick out a ring for the proposal and let your sister-in-law know it will be taking place so we can schedule it into the program?”

“Sure, let Diana know, but you don’t have to pick out the ring. Find a jeweler, and I’ll go and pick it out myself.”

Kate hesitated. “With all due respect, Mr. Sinclair, I know her taste. I think it’s best if I pick out the ring.”

Nathan smiled.

“What?”

“She’s gotten to you, too. Three months ago you called security on her, and now you’re insisting on picking out the ring and coordinating the proposal to make sure it meets Layla’s romantic standards.”

Kate rather uncharacteristically blushed. “Well, part of my job is to make you look as good as possible. And like I said, she’s a very sweet girl. I really don’t think you could ask for a better wife. Especially if she has the right ring on her finger.”

He smiled again. “Fine, you can come along. How about that?”

Less than thirty minutes later he stood inside Henne Jewelers, an upscale jewelry store in Shadyside, listening to Kate give the dapper man behind the counter instructions for the kind of ring they wanted. “Understated with a little flash. Maybe something that looks vintage but has some great detail like an emerald or a yellow diamond or maybe even a sapphire. But we’ll need it within the next few hours, so it will have to already be in her size.”

Kate’s phone rang, interrupting her detailed list. She checked the caller ID. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s the movers I contracted for Layla’s apartment.”

She took the call and said, “This is Kate. Please hold” and hit the mute button, before turning to Nathan. “By the way, should I have them just move her things into a storage locker until we get her answer?”

“Good idea,” Nathan said.

The jeweler started to set out a few engagement rings that matched Kate’s requirements while Kate walked away to take the call. As Nathan surveyed the rings, he tried to imagine how each one would look on Layla’s finger. Would it complement or overpower her scrubs and her soft casual weekend looks? He picked up a sapphire with a square setting and thought about the children they might have if they managed to stay together.

He smiled to himself thinking of a little girl with Layla’s smile, or a boy with her bright eyes. The thought of being connected to Layla through their children warmed his heart and made him start thinking of that night’s proposal not just as a means to get her to sign the pre-nup, but also as a possible step toward their future happiness. He had never thought of himself as the marrying kind, or the fatherly kind, or even the happily ever after kind, but looking at these rings, he saw it clearly. If Layla accepted his proposal, they would be happy together. Andrew or no Andrew. It almost made him wonder if he shouldn’t let her out of the contract. If she married him, then maybe he’d be able to come to trust her without it.


Kate’s return interrupted his thoughts. He immediately noted her face was pale and she held her phone in a white-knuckled death grip.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Could you give us a moment alone?” she asked the jeweler.

“Of course.” The jeweler faded back into the woodwork, leaving them to their private conversation.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.

“The movers just opened up Layla’s apartment and they found something disturbing.”

Nathan stood up straighter, anger already working its way into his gut. “It was another threat wasn’t it?”

Kate nodded. “This time spray painted across her living room wall.”

“What did it say?”

Kate grimaced as if it physically pained her to have to repeat the words out loud. “Leave Pittsburgh, or I’ll kill you.”

***



That was exactly what it said as Nathan found out for himself fifteen minutes later. He stood in front of the large, spray painted message with the movers and Spencer Greeley, the private investigator he’d hired back in August looking on.

“I checked the security camera we had installed in the lobby, but the guy was good. Wore a hoodie and kept his face down,” Greeley told him. “Other than that, the case has gone pretty cold. I’m doing extensive background checks on everyone who signed in at Ms. Matthews physical therapy center the day of the first incident, but so far no hits. No one who ever came into contact with Layla in a non-patient way and no one who’d wish her any harm. I’m almost done.”

Fear for Layla’s well-being fueled the hot anger in Nathan’s gut. “Almost isn’t good enough,” he said. “I want full reports on everybody who came into the center by tomorrow morning. This maniac broke into her apartment. What if she had been here?”

Not waiting for an answer, he started walking back out to his car, his need to see that Layla was safe with his own eyes sudden and great. “I understand you’re upset, Mr. Sinclair,” Greeley said, running to catch up with him outside the building. “I’m doing the best I can, but there just aren’t many leads here.”

“I don’t need your empathy,” Nathan said. “I need you to do your job.”

He turned to step into his car. He was about to call Layla when a call from Diana came through.

He picked it up, even though talking to his soon-to-be-former sister-in-law was the last thing he wanted to do right now. “What?”

Diana could barely speak, she was crying so hard. “Andrew’s back in town,” she said.

Nathan gripped the steering wheel. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, because the bastard just served me with divorce papers himself,” she wailed. “And he said he knew Layla was back.”