Calamity Rayne Knocked Up (Calamity Rayne #4)

14. Gold diggers, gowns, and saggy balls, oh my!

Gold diggers, gowns, and saggy balls, oh my!

“ I have to pee.”

“We’re about ten miles from our exit,” the driver commented not fully understanding the severity of the situation.

“Um…” I looked at Hale and whispered, “I have to pee.”

He frowned. “Can’t you hold it?”

Did no one understand how these things worked? “There’s a human on my bladder, and I haven’t peed since we were on the jet. No, I can’t hold it.”

He glanced at the barren highway rushing by. “Rayne, there’s nothing for at least six miles.”

“I see trees and grass. ”

He looked appalled. “You want us to pull over?”

“That’d be great.”

Hale cleared his throat. “Pull over up ahead, please.”

“Sir, I’d much rather wait until we’re on a safer road.”

He looked at me, and I shook my head. I wasn’t going to make it.

“I’m afraid it’s an emergency.”

As the driver eased onto the shoulder, I dug through my purse for some tissues. At least New England was woodsy.

Elara roused from her nap as soon as the car stopped. Hale handed her Meep Meep, but she tossed the sheep on the floor to her left and moaned to get out of her car seat.

“Not yet,” Hale said. “I have to help Mommy.”

This wasn’t a group activity, so I scooted past him and darted for the trees. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I’ll block you.”

I had to pee so bad I didn’t care who saw, but Hale was the proper type. As soon as I was away from the car and out of the driver’s view, I hiked up my dress and squatted .

“Whoa.” Hale rushed to stand before me, opening his suit jacket so the driver didn’t get a show.

“It’s freaking freezing here!” My teeth chattered.

“Watch my shoes.”

“Then back up. I can’t stop once I’ve started.” My knees ached from sitting for too long and I wabbled. “Shit.”

Hale quickly grabbed my elbow for balance but it was too late. “Sorry!”

“Momma?”

“I’m going potty, Peanut! I’ll be right there.”

“I wanna potty!”

Hale looked down at his leather Berluti shoes and grimaced.

I quickly wiped and righted my clothes. “We should let her go.”

“She can wait to use the bathroom at the house.”

“Hale, the books say we shouldn’t ignore her requests for a toilet.”

“A tree is not a toilet, Rayne. This will just confuse her.”

“If she was a boy you’d let her pee.”

He ushered me back to the car, too smart to get bated into a debate about gender biases. Once we were back on the road the driver avoided all eye contact. I stuffed my trash into a plastic bag and handed Hale a tissue for his shoe. He didn’t complain about the marks on the leather, but I knew he wasn’t happy.

“Guess you’re not a golden shower sort of guy,” I joked.

He scowled.

“Well, I feel better.” That was really all that mattered.

When Hale’s family showed up for a holiday, they really moved in. It was like watching an episode of The Crown .

Servants I didn’t know the names of bustled about the estate, unloading ice-packed delicacies and filling liquor cabinets with favored labels. Remington arranged for a butler, a housekeeper, and a chauffeur in addition to his usual staff.

Hale and I preferred a more intimate setting, so we gave Andrew the week off. If we needed extra help, we could rely on our moms. They didn’t get to see Elara as often as Remington, so they usually were a big help.

It was always interesting watching Hale’s mom, Naomi, interact with Remington. She called him Remy, and the man turned into a teenager around her. It was adorable. I was curious to see how Odette took their subtle flirting.

Being pregnant and past the morning sickness stage, I had many requests for the Thanksgiving menu. Remington protested my requests, informing me that Hugo, the Belgian chef he’d hired, was the best of the best and not to be micromanaged.

“Dad, leave her be,” Hale argued.

“It’s handled Hale. Don’t be difficult, Meyers.”

“I’m not being difficult. I’m pregnant.”

“Honestly, Remy, show a little compassion. She’s giving us a grandchild,” Naomi chimed in, earning some extra mother-in-law points. “If Rayne wants something different, she should have it.”

I looked at Marta, who was standing by the door, wringing her hands. “Mr. Davenport, denying a pregnant woman a craving is bad luck. You will get a stye.”

“Christ,” Remington muttered. “Fine. God forbid we adhere to tradition and turn our nose at superstition.”

I smiled victoriously. “ Thank you, Remy.”

He growled. Only Naomi was allowed to call him that.

My second trimester unleashed a whole new level of cravings. I wanted my food salty, sweet, and hot enough to cause a raging inferno in my mouth. Temperature had never been so important to me before, but now I needed my food piping hot and spicier than a habanero.

Marta’s Mediterranean roots were precisely what the doctor ordered. The woman knew how to throw down some fiery food when it came to cooking, and I hovered around her like a mesmerized vulture waiting for any chance to taste what she concocted.

While the others anticipated traditional dishes like turkey and potatoes, I was seduced by Marta’s descriptions of callos a la madrile?a, pimientos de padrón, and crema catalana, a sweet custard dessert she made with citrus, cinnamon, and chili powder.

“Just make me a list of ingredients,” I told her. “I’ll see that everything gets here.”

The estate was walkable, but the weather was a little too chilly for me, so I used one of Remington's many cars to navigate the grounds. When I returned to our house, Hale was out front chopping wood .

“Well, this is a new look.” The man was a steaming, flannel-clad stick of eye candy. “How did you learn to handle an ax like that?”

“Frank, the groundskeeper, taught me when I was ten.”

“My, oh my.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of him in those designer jeans. I didn’t even know Hale owned denim. “Momma likey.”

He chuckled. “If wood impresses you, I can show you some other varieties.”

I glanced at the house, knowing full well my mother was inside. There were several little outbuildings around the historic property—lots of hiding spots. Feeling like a teenager about to slip a hand under a blanket during movie time, I glanced at the closest stone shed and twirled my hair around my finger. “What’s in there?”

“That’s the old smokehouse.” Most outbuildings had shutters and glass windows so old they were marbleized by time, but this one didn’t have windows. Hale set down the ax and brushed off his hands. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

I followed him into the old shed, and he closed the door. “Eh! Dark.”

“Hold on.” He lit a candle, and shadows danced across the wood-planked walls. A wooden counter crossed the back wall. The entire space was no larger than ten feet in any direction. “Here.” He removed his flannel and draped it on the counter, then lifted me to sit on the edge.

Pulling him into the space between my knees, I giggled. My hands crawled over his T-shirt. “This Paul Bunyan look suits you.” Hale looked great in a suit, but it was pure novelty whenever he wore casual clothes. “You’re really scratching an itch with my lumberjack fantasies.”

“You’ve been fantasizing about lumberjacks?”

“Since my first Brawny commercial.” I reached for his belt buckle.

“Is that so?” He tugged my knees closer and caught the back of my neck. “Give me that mouth.”

His tongue stole past my lips as my cool fingers curled around his length. He thrust into my grip, his other hand working its way under my skirt. I moaned as he shoved my panties aside.

He tugged at my jacket, pulling it down my arms. “Lie back.” He guided me down on the wooden bench, pushing my dress up then he stilled. “Holy shit.”

I glanced down awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”

He stared down at my stomach, unblinking. “You look so…different.”

I bit my lip. It had been some time since he saw me like this, lying on my back, exposed. My stomach had definitely popped. “Sorry.”

“God, don’t apologize.” He framed my belly and bent to kiss it. “Look at you.”

“It so noticeable now, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t expecting to find your stomach so…sexy.”

“Really?” I didn’t feel sexy, but I also didn’t feel fat. If anything, I felt sort of magical, growing life and all.

“Fuck yeah. That’s my kid in there.”

“Shh. No cursing in front of the bean,” I teased and we both laughed.

He shook his head in awe, then pushed my dress up higher to see my breasts, which had gotten substantially fuller. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to look so different so fast.”

“Good different?”

“Baby, you’re always stunning.” He caressed my breast, pulling down the lace of my bra to gently pinch the tip of my nipple.

A sharp gasp slipped past my lips.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m just really sensitive there.”

“Really?” He bent to replace his fingers with his mouth and wet heat engulfed my nipple.

My body arched as he sucked, and his fingers returned to between my legs. Everything was feeling incredible. That familiar heaviness tightened in my core as my body pulsed under his touch. Building and stretching, like the waxing and waning of moon until I felt incredibly full and ready to burst. Then something mortifying happened.

“What the fuck?” Chin to my chest, I bolted into an upright position and looked down in horror. “What the fucking fuck is that?” I was leaking.

Hale stared at my body with wide eyes. “Is that supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know!”

I covered my boobs and searched for a rag as Hale Googled from his phone.

The shed was severely understocked for leaky tits, so I used my dress to wipe up the trickle of liquid dripping from my nipples— all sexy feelings gone. “I thought milk didn’t come in until after the baby was born!”

“It’s not milk. This says it’s something called colostrum.” He read from his phone as I tried to hide from any light. “It says oxytocin, the same hormone that triggers the let-down reflex during breastfeeding, can occur from orgasm.” He read directly from the article, “Breast milk may leak or spray during sex.”

“I’m sorry, did you say spray ?”

He pocketed his phone. “That’s what it says.” He bent to my chest, and I grabbed him by the hair, jerking him back.

“Hale! What the hell are you doing?”

“What? You think I’m not going not to touch your boobs for the next four months because of a little milk?”

I stared, wide-eyed, as he pinned my hands at my hips and licked the liquid from my nipple.

He shrugged. “It’s sweet.”

“I cannot believe you just did that.”

“Rayne, there’s no part of you that could disgust me. Who cares? We drink breast milk from cows.”

“Well, you’re not drinking mine.” I pushed my dress back in place. “The baby needs it.” I protectively covered my chest.

“You’re being a prude. It’s not like I was going to nurse from you. I tasted it. So what? Aren’t you a little curious what it tastes like?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Fine.” He chuckled in the same way he did the first time he tried to go down on me. Hale was always much more daring than me when it came to bed sport. “I’ll just have to fill up on the rest of you.” He yanked open my legs and went to town.

“Ah!” I dropped back and let it happen.

Three minutes later, I was howling and coming again, boobs dribbling like leaky old faucets. “This is terrible!”

“You’re too in your head. Don’t let it bother you.”

This, coming from a guy who couldn’t stand a smudge of anything on his body.

It didn’t get any better when he was inside of me. They just kept leaking. I was mortified, but Hale—the pervert—loved it. The harder I came, the more they leaked. I should have known a man who loved to make me squirt would get a kick out of this. Give him enough time, and he’d have me operating like a full-fledged waterpark.

I left the smokehouse damp, shivering, and needing a shower. Hale arrogantly whistled his way back to the woodpile and swung the ax with more pluck and vigor then he had when I found him.

Slinking into the house like a mangey coyote, I tried to sneak upstairs unnoticed.

“Momma!” Elara called, racing over to show me her scribbled drawing of what looked like it might be a pumpkin. It was round and orange.

“Nice work, Peanut.”

“You look flushed, Rayne,” my mother said as she crocheted a blanket she’d been working on for the new baby. “I remember when I was pregnant with you. Your father and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

“ Mom! Ew!”

“What? That shed might not have windows, but I have ears.”

My humiliation was complete. “I’m going to shower and erase my memories from the last hour.” I skulked up the stairs.

The following day, everyone was settled in. Remington was sneaking work, which meant he was calling me every five minutes, which frustrated Hale to no end. I received more than enough impatient looks but he said nothing. My mother made things worse by always asking who was calling me. I ignored her, because everyone else knew it was Remington every time.

Naomi commented repeatedly about how needy Remy could be, which also didn’t help matters. But to be fair, they didn’t realize this was a hot-button issue between me and Hale.

As long as I played down the situation and didn’t appear stressed by my bossy father-in-law’s neediness, the situation was managed. But Hale still got frustrated.

“Just go over there,” Hale eventually said. “But be back by five. We have that dinner tonight, and we’re leaving at six.”

Shock of shock, Hale was very persnickety about being on time. “It’s fine. I can just—” My phone buzzed again.

“Just go, Rayne.”

I hesitated, not wanting to make this a thing, but going over there would put an end to the incessant calls sooner so we could get on with our peaceful holiday. “Are you sure?”

When my phone buzzed yet again, he narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

With Miles out of the office visiting his own family and most of the staff gone at headquarters, there was only me, so it made sense that Remington would hit me up more than usual. As soon as I arrived at Remington’s, Odette greeted me with a smile and a cocktail in her bejeweled hand.

“Rayne, I wasn’t expecting you. I was just making a salad for lunch. Do you want to eat with us?”

“Sure.” Odette was always sweet and stayed quietly in the background. When Remington paid attention to her, their chemistry was adorable.

As soon as Remington saw me, he looked befuddled. He was clearly surprised by my presence since he hadn’t instructed me to come to him. Yet, there I was, ready to serve his needs for the sake of peace. He also overlooked that I was giving up a day with my family to help him—on a day that I had clearly scheduled for personal time.

“Meyers, we need to go through the proposal from Landry and compare it with the rundown we received from PCK. I want you to dig up everything you can find on both CEOs. Everything . Figure out their wives’ names, who their mistresses are, how they voted in the last election, what allergies their children have, where they golf, and anything else of use. Leave no stone unturned.”

This was the drill whenever Remington prepared a buyout. Most times, his victims didn’t even foresee selling their companies. But Remington had a way of zeroing in on people’s pressure points until they viewed him as an ally and confidant. In the end, he always looked like a savior and got exactly what he wanted.

“Sure.”

I was elbow-deep in notes when Odette brought my salad to the dim study.

“You know,” she said, setting my plate beside the open laptop. “It might not be my place to say this, but you could tell him no.”

I laughed. “Have you tried that?”

“I do every day. At least twice. He’s a demanding man, but it’s good for him to feel challenged. The more he gets his way, the more demanding he becomes. It’s healthy for him to face denial from time to time.”

“Well, he only has me for another hour because I have my own demanding man waiting at home.”

She patted my shoulder and left me to my work.

One of the men I researched was expected to attend tonight’s dinner party, so I supposed this was a time-sensitive issue. When I finally had all the information organized, I delivered it to the dining room where Remington had set up shop.

“Here. This is everything I could find.”

He glanced up from his work and took the print out I prepared. His gaze moved over the information quickly. “What about the PCK fellow?”

“He’ll have to wait. I need to get back to the house to get ready.”

“I asked for reports on both.”

“That’s funny, Remington because I asked for a personal day.” Our eyes met, and I dared him to say another word, especially when he had not even thanked me for giving him a few hours on my day off.

“Success doesn’t take a holiday, Meyers.”

“Well, I do. Hale’s waiting for me.”

He sighed and set the papers aside, realizing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I hired a car for tonight.”

I paused, hating the position I frequently found myself in whenever Remington tried to micromanage the minor details of our life. Sometimes, it was like navigating a minefield between the two of them.

Initially, I found Remington’s gestures thoughtful. But over the years, I learned how much these little helpful moves irritated Hale. He saw his father’s thoughtfulness as heavy-handedness. And Remington saw his son’s reluctance to accept help as stubbornness. As far as I was concerned, they were both stubborn jackasses.

When I returned to the house, I fixed my hair. Hale was already dressed in his tux, and I was dreading my dress. Elegance was always a challenge for me, but being pregnant made it more so.

The pre-Thanksgiving dinner party was a tradition that the Davenports attended every year. No one really got excited about them, but skipping the affair was out of the question.

“Oh, I remember those old, dusty dinner parties,” Naomi commented when she popped into our room to ask where Elara’s extra bibs were. “The food’s usually good.”

I had somehow escaped this social obligation during my prior Thanksgivings with the Davenports, but I was running out of excuses and Hale was insistent that I attend with him this year.

“I look ridiculous in this dress.” The Di Lorenzo gown fell to the floor in soft chiffon ripples as I moved to the mirror. The low-cut neckline was black velvet and hung off one shoulder. I chewed my lip, considering what other options I had. “I should change.”

“What? No.” Naomi crossed the room and turned me slowly. “You look stunning.”

I scrunched my nose. The skirt of the dress was intentionally sheer. The taupe layers were dotted with velvet, providing slight camouflage, but my bodysuit underneath was completely visible to anyone looking hard enough.

“I look like an eggplant.” My boobs were bursting past the neckline, my belly was protruding, and I never knew what to do with my hair.

“You look lovely. Here, let me try something.” Naomi set down the bibs and ushered me to the vanity chair. “You forget I owned a salon for half my life.”

It wasn’t that I forgot. It was that I never wanted to impose.

“And for the record, your decolletage looks sexy. It’ll be a show stopper, for sure.”

“Shows can stop for disasters, too, you know.”

“Stop that.” She unwound my hair and heated a curling iron to add waves. Ten minutes later, she had me looking ready for a photoshoot. “You need something for your neck. Let me see your phone.”

I handed it to her, unsure how my phone might help us.

She pressed a button and brought it to her ear. “Remy, do you still have your mother’s jewels here?”

I frowned and waved for her to forget it, but she turned away.

“Yes, in the old chest. It’s for Rayne. The black diamonds, I think. Perfect. Thank you.” She ended the call. “He’s having Alphonse run them over.”

“Naomi, I can’t wear Remington’s mother’s jewels.”

“Of course you can. She left them to the kids. They’re family heirlooms, and you’re family.”

Her presumptuousness was at complete odds with my typical fade into the background and impose on no one philosophy, but things were already in motion. “Okay, but just for tonight.”

Getting down the steps in a floor-length gown with a protruding stomach that made it impossible to see my feet slowed me down. Hale stood at the foot of the stairs, smiling appreciatively at me as he held out his hand. “You look incredible.”

“So do you.” The tuxedo was created for men like Hale.

Once I made it to the foyer, he lifted a coiled lock of hair from my shoulder. “Your hair’s different.”

“Do you like it? Your mom did it.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

The door opened, and Alphonse stepped in, holding a slender jewelry box. “I have something for Rayne.”

Hale looked at the box and frowned. Naomi intercepted, collecting the necklace before I could explain. “Perfect. Thank you, Alphonse.”

“You’re welcome. Mr. Davenport and Ms. Crawford are waiting in the limo out front.”

“You can go ahead without us,” Hale said. “Rayne and I will drive separately.”

I knew that would happen, but I still smiled apologetically at Alphonse. “Thank you for bringing the necklace.”

Hale came to see what his mother had. “Are those Grandmother’s jewels?”

“Yes. Do you remember them?”

“Vaguely. Let me do this, Mom.” He swept my hair to one side, and I lifted it off my shoulders.

The cool weight of the black diamonds closed around my neck, draping heavily just over my collarbones. He latched the clasp, kissed my shoulder, and righted my hair. When he turned me to face him again, he looked down at my chest and smiled. “Perfect.”

I don’t think he realized that the dress was partially see-through, which was probably good since Hale could get a bit territorial around his peers. He wrapped me in a cashmere shawl and we were on our way.

The tradition of the formal pre-Thanksgiving dinner party dated back several decades. It was an opulent affair, with every detail meticulously planned to impress the guests, who ranged from various powerful positions.

When we arrived, a helicopter was landing in the back yard. “Oh, this is just like the cookouts we used to have in Oregon,” I joked. “I hope someone brought potato salad.”

Hale chuckled and rubbed his thumb along my fingers, something he did to calm me down when he sensed I was nervous. I usually wasn’t at anything fancier than a McDonald’s drive-thru.

We were greeted by white-gloved servants who took our coats and led us to the main ballroom for cocktails. Hale used to order champagne as soon as we arrived at formal affairs, but that was currently off the menu for me, so he requested the waiter find sparkling water.

Women, ranging in age from twenty to eighty, were dressed in pristine floor-length gowns, and men wore tuxedos. A small orchestra played soft, tasteful classics in the corner of the main ballroom.

I relaxed the moment I spotted Remington and Odette. But as I took a step in their direction, Hale held me back.

“There’s Phina.”

I followed his gaze and spotted his sister holding the rapt attention of several well-dressed men. How that woman remained single was beyond me. Of course, Hale would prefer to mingle with his sister over his father, so we walked that way.

When we approached the cluster of men, they all chuckled at something Seraphina had said. She clutched a flute of champagne and cocked her head, appearing confused by their laughter.

“I wasn’t saying it for a laugh. The soy crops are destroying the world’s ecosystems.”

Poor Phina. She had a philanthropic heart that went beyond the ordinary charitable acts wealthy people tended to do for show and tax breaks. The girl actually cared about something other than herself, and some people had a hard time comprehending that, including her brother.

Hale mirrored their amusement. “Pardon my sister, gentlemen. She brings a soapbox with her everywhere she goes.”

I drew back at precisely the same time Phina frowned at Hale. She was very passionate about environmental issues and animal rights, and maybe this wasn’t the best place to talk about the agricultural deforestation issue, but Hale shouldn’t make fun of her.

“I would love to hear more about your thoughts,” a man twice Phina’s age remarked. “Care to find a quiet place to talk?”

I tried not to react to the impression that the old Dust Bowl relic wanted to do more than talk with Hale’s little sister. I quickly tried to think of ways to bail Phina out, but before I thought up a rescue call, she laced her arm with the old geezer’s and smiled sweetly into his cloudy eyes.

“Of course, Carlisle.”

What the?

I glanced up at Hale, silently horrified, but he appeared completely unaffected by the bicentennial age gap.

The group of men dispersed and I clutched his arm. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned that the captain of the Love Boat just kidnapped your sister?”

“Seraphina’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”

“But…” I looked up at him in confusion. “She wasn’t flirting with that old dude, right?”

“Rayne, my sister’s dating life is not something I care to examine closely.”

I scrunched my nose. Her dating life? Gross. That man was too old to be her dentist let alone her lover. I inwardly gagged as I thought about saggy balls and days of the week pill packs.

Phina was still in her twenties and beautiful. She could have her pick of any single guy in any room. Probably even some of the married ones. This had to be about charity.

Lights flashed across the large bay window as another helicopter landed in the lawn. Several women—mostly the younger ones—crossed the room and posed casually by the French doors. A moment later, Barrett walked in and I understood why they were acting like a bunch of horny jackals.

Hale escorted me across the room to the huddle of females surrounding his brother. A very tall, very beautiful woman with fiery red hair clung to his arm.

“Hale. Rayne,” he politely disentangled himself from the hoard and brought his date forward. After shaking his brother’s hand, he turned to kiss me on the cheek. “Holy shit, look at you!” His gaze dropped to my stomach. “You’re so… huge .”

“Watch it,” Hale warned under his breath.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. Huge is exactly what a girl wants to hear when a man’s looking at her body.”

“Relax,” he teased. “You’re only huge in the stomach.”

“Not making it better.” I turned to his date. “You must be McKinsley. Hi. I’m Rayne, Hale’s wife.”

She glanced down at my stomach, and her gaze skated away. “Barrett, what is that smell?”

O—kay. I put my hand away.

Berrett hardly acknowledged her question. “So, how are you feeling? Do you still have morning sickness?”

“Nothing like I did in the beginning.” I watched his date place an order with the butler for something other than champagne. “Where’d you find this one, Barrett?”

“We met Saturday.”

That seemed about right. Sex with a stranger…bring her to meet the entire family for Thanksgiving. Nothing weird there. “Right.”

It occurred to me that Phina and Barrett’s mothers weren’t spending the holiday with us. “Where does your mom spend Thanksgiving, Barret?”

“I think she’s in Rome at the moment.”

I tried to lip read what his date was explaining to the wait staff. “McKinsley seems a little high maintenance.” The girl hadn’t stopped talking since they arrived. In all the time I’d been around the Davenports I’d never ordered people around the way she was. “Does she ever stop talking?”

“There are ways to quiet her down. She has a very talented mouth.”

“Gross.” I glanced up at Hale. “My feet are starting to hurt. When do we get to sit?”

“Let’s say hello to the host. Then we can find our seats in the dining room.”

The meal was an extravagant multi-course feast prepared by a team of talented chefs. The white-gloved staff delivered the luxurious dishes in an endless rotation that included lobster bisque, foie gras, and truffle risotto with wild salmon over a bed of tiny mushrooms.

Everything was presented with such flair. If the intention was to impress, they succeeded, but the company was too stuffy and pretentious to truly make the night enjoyable. However, the chocolate soufflés and crème br?lée at the end made it all worthwhile.

Each course had been expertly paired with a selected fine wine, which I couldn’t taste. A local sommelier visited each table to describe the vintage. When I declined a taste, people looked at me questioningly. Did the rich not follow the no drinking while pregnant rules or did they just not realize my situation?

“Rayne’s pregnant,” Hale eventually announced .

The table responded with a tepid round of golf applause. It felt strangely like an old Victorian novel where pregnancy wasn’t en vogue. But I had never been in style with these people anyway.

After dinner, rumors of my condition got out and men flocked to Hale to praise his virility. Hale possessively kept a hand on my back at all times. I felt a little like a cupcake in one of Chef Dubois’ display cases as the men ogled my baby bump. Thankfully, no one tried to touch me.

Diamonds and crystal flutes sparkled under the chandeliers as the women in designer dresses moved about the ballroom, mingling with other females. It all seemed very segregated, with the men taking their after-dinner drinks in the atrium while the wives and girlfriends waited around, serving as much purpose as the floral centerpieces.

I was getting bored. “Why aren’t people dancing?”

“It’s not that sort of event,” Hale explained as he sipped his brandy.

“Why not?”

Hale traced a finger down my spine. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

I shivered under his touch. “It’s a little boring. No one’s doing anything.” Maybe this was what sobriety felt like. I’d never attended a function like this without a minimal buzz. It was like watching paint dry.

He glanced at the group of men playing instruments in the corner. The atmosphere screamed elegance and sophistication, but the vibe was more along the lines of a somber royal funeral. Despite the lavish welcome, exquisite decor, crystal stemware, polished silver, and meticulous attention to detail, these people didn’t seem to like each other very much.

The women watched each other with judgmental stares, and the men competitively tried to outdo each other by casually mentioning yacht size and acreage. The old geezers circled young females like dirty vultures, and the mothers encouraged their barely legal daughters to fawn over men old enough to be their grandfathers.

It was like an auction for gold diggers and daddies. Speaking of which, my gaze scanned the crowd for Remington. I spotted Odette talking to a woman in her seventies, but no Remington.

“Where’s your father? ”

Hale briefly glanced about the ballroom. “I haven’t seen him since dinner.”

I searched the crowd for him, and spotted McKinsley. She seemed to be blending in fine with the socialites.

I decided it was an excellent time to use the restroom. “If a server comes around, can you order me a water? I’ll be right back.”

Hale stood and took my arm. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

I wandered toward the quieter wing of the house, certain there must be at least fifteen bathrooms in this place. The further I drifted from the ballroom, the more peaceful the house became. When I found an empty library with vaulted ceilings and ancient books lining the walls, I went inside.

A slender door in the corner led to a small powder room. I took my time freshening up, not expecting a line for the bathroom this far off the beaten path.

When I exited the bathroom, I stilled, startled that I wasn’t alone. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The man had jet-black hair and eyes dark as coal. “I’m afraid I don’t know you.”

“I’m Rayne, Hale Davenport’ s wife.”

“Ah. My apologies. The New York wedding.”

“Yes. Were you there?” I winced. Was that a rude question? “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name and…it was a big guestlist. Mostly Hale’s friends. And now I’m rambling.”

“I’m Xander. And I’m sorry to say I missed the wedding. Scheduling conflict.”

“Xander. That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s short for Alexander. Alexander Landry.”

My breath hitched as I recognized his name. This was Remington’s target.

His gaze dropped to my bodice. “I see Hale’s been busy since the wedding.”

My neck warmed, my blush crawling to my chest as he stared. “Speaking of Hale, I should probably get back to my husband.”

“There’s no rush. These dinner parties can be so tedious. Just once, I’d love to see a cat fight or something slightly amusing happen.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone here would do that.”

“You think those women out there are without venom? They all hate each other.” He chuckled then rubbed his jaw. “But not you, right? You look… There’s something di fferent about you. Something…wholesome.”

Being analyzed by a complete stranger was extremely off-putting—especially in a nearly see-through dress. Talk about direct. Remington would have his work cut out for him with this guy.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d call myself wholesome, but I’m not vicious or venomous. I’m just Rayne.”

“Just Rayne.” He grinned. “What a curious name.”

Okay, we talked for too long and now I was getting a weird vibe. It was time to wrap this up. “We’re actually scheduled to meet next week.”

He cocked his head. “Are we?”

“On the fifth. I work for Remington.”

His brows lifted. “Maybe you should work for me. This is the first I’m hearing of this. I should fire the half-whit in charge of my schedule and hire you. Whatever Davenport’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

I laughed nervously and edged toward the door. “Well, I’m not sure how my boss would like that.” Another nervous smile. “He’s also my father-in-law,” I reminded, in case he was seriously suggesting I do something disloyal toward my Davenports. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Xander.”

“Are you really in such a rush to get back to him? As Remington’s right hand, shouldn’t you take the opportunity to work the client?”

I did a double-take. Talk about being forward. “Excuse me?”

“He’s had you research me, right? Find out where my stockholdings are, where I like to eat, who I like to fuck?”

My smile fell.

“Relax. It’s an old game he’s been playing at for years. You seem nice, so I’ll save you some time. He’s not getting my company.”

This was getting uncomfortable. “I don’t have the details of his plans.”

“Let’s not pollute this peaceful introduction with lies, Rayne.” He rubbed his jaw and studied me. “You struck me as someone…honest. Am I wrong?”

The alternative was to call myself a liar. “Being honest doesn’t mean I know my boss’s intentions. He’s a very complicated man with a very busy schedule.”

“So am I.” He grinned, flashing a line of pearly white teeth. “It’s cute how you defend him. I’d bet there isn’t another person at this party—including his children—who would think to protect a man like Remington Davenport. He must pay you damn well for that sort of loyalty.”

“I’m just a loyal person. It has nothing to do with my paycheck.”

A dimple formed in the dark stubble beside his mouth. “I’m beginning to see why Hale married you.” His gaze moved over me. “I bet every man out there knows who you are.”

“That’s two bets in under a minute.”

“What can I say? I can’t resist a gamble. How am I doing so far?”

“Well, up until five minutes ago, you had no idea who I was. So I guess you're not always right.” But he was doing better than I wanted to admit.

“Touché. But I know who you are now, and you’re not easily forgotten.”

I was too tired to unravel his innuendos. “If people know who I am, it’s because I’m the only pregnant woman here.”

“Exactly.”

Okay, this was getting weird. Where was Hale when I needed him? “I have to get back. My husband’s waiting for me.”

“I bet he is.” He cupped a hand at the side of his mouth and whispered, “In case you lost count, that’s three.”

I laughed nervously. “It was, uh, nice meeting you.”

“The pleasure was mine. Rayne.”

As soon as I opened the door, I abruptly stopped. “Remington?”

He untangled himself from the arms of some young brunette. “Meyers? What are you doing down here? The party’s that way.”

I scoffed. Was he going to play this off like he wasn’t just making out with some chick that had to be his daughter’s age? And to think I was just defending him.

“What am I doing?” I looked at the girl, her lipstick smeared off her lips and her dress slightly disheveled. He was unbelievable. Odette was in the ballroom waiting for him. “I’m leaving.”

I wanted to find Hale and go home. Leaving him and that slice of veal he was pawing in the hall, I went to find my husband.

Hale was getting his ear chewed off by Barrett’s date. He appeared immediately relieved to see me. “Hey,” I interrupted. “I’m ready to go home. ”

He frowned, surprised by my bluntness. “It’s still early?—”

“No, Hale. I’m ready now.”

He excused himself from McKinsey and pulled me aside. “I arranged a surprise for you.”

I had enough surprises for one night. Very aware of Odette’s location in the ballroom, I averted my stare, afraid of what might happen if I looked her in the eye. “I want to leave.”

Just then, the band changed from a traditional classical ballad to a more modern tune. Hale laced his fingers with mine and pulled me toward the center of the ballroom. “May I have this dance?”

My eyes widened. “What’s happening?”

“You said you wanted to dance.”

“No, I said no one was dancing. And they still aren’t.” The last thing I wanted was to become more of a spectacle.

He pulled me to his chest and planted a hand on my lower back. “Do you recognize the song?”

The familiar notes of Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time registered . It was the song we danced to at our wedding. Guests formed a circle around us and watched as Hale twirled me in a slow circle.

Remington appeared with a scowl, disrupting Hale’s romantic moment. “Meyers, I need a word.”

“Not now, Dad.”

“Yes, now. It’s important.”

I glared at him, because even I had reached the end of my patience with him. “Not now, Remington.”

Hale twirled us away from his father. “You’re the prettiest woman in the room tonight, Rayne.”

I was fuming. “That’s great, Hale, but I just saw your dad making out with some chick in the hall.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He had his tongue down some woman’s throat.” I gagged. “What the hell is he thinking? Odette’s right there.” Why were bathroom visits always so complicated at these fancy functions? “Oh, and I met that Landry guy. He’s creepy.”

Hale’s silver eyes darkened. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because he followed me into the library and made me super uncomfortable.”

His focus was no longer on me as he scanned the crowd. “What did he say to you? ”

“It wasn’t what he said. It was how he said it. Like being pregnant was some sort of testament to your virility.”

“I’ll kill him.”

I grabbed him by the lapels. “Hey, can we not do the whole Neanderthal thing tonight? You’ve marked your territory and I could do without the whole let’s pee a circle around Rayne spectacle.” I pointed to my belly. “Everyone knows I’m yours.”

“Exactly. So why would he say something to make you uncomfortable.”

“Probably because he sensed your father closing in to buy out his company, and he knows I work for Remington. I think he was just trying to disarm the opposition.”

“There he is.”

“Hale—”

I was suddenly standing alone like a pregnant fool in the center of the ballroom. A plastic smile formed on my face as Hale made a B-line to Xander. Women whispered behind manicured nails.

Remington met my stare then his gaze moved to Hale and Xander Landry.

I was done.

Shoving through the crowd, I disappeared into the foyer and requested my shawl from the coat check. I gave the valet Alphonse’s name and they called for the car.

The limo appeared a moment later, and Alphonse looked at me, confused and concerned. “Rayne?”

“Can you take me back to the estate?”

“Where is Mr. Davenport?”

“He’s getting a ride home with the other Mr. Davenport.” They could call an Uber for all I cared.

Alphonse opened the door and helped me into the vehicle. “Are you okay?”

I sighed. He was the only man to ask me that all night. “I am now. Thank you.”

“I’ll get you home.” He shut the door and I sank into the seat, relieved to be alone.