Donovan Dynasty: Bind Part 41

The request had been sent late yesterday afternoon. Unsurprisingly, her father hadn't responded.

That continued to weigh on her.

To her knowledge, he hadn't been in the office since Tuesday. Even though Venessa had said he was absent, yesterday Lara had gone to see for herself. His inbox had grown by at least an inch and pink pieces of paper bearing phone messages littered his desktop. He still hadn't answered his phone or returned any of her messages.

Following her intuition, Lara asked April to drive to his house. "Do you have enough time to do that before you need to return for Connor?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, Ms. Bertrand."

Even though his car wasn't in the driveway, she still took the chance and went and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she tried the k.n.o.b to find it locked.

"Ready, ma'am?" April asked.

"Thanks, yes," she said, getting back in the car. She felt relieved to know that he wasn't at home brooding. More likely, he was at his golf club.

Traffic was still light when she reached her office building, and she made a stop at the coffee kiosk in the lobby before heading upstairs.

A little after eleven, there was a knock on her door.

"Come in." She pushed aside the revised marketing budget and looked up.

Pernell entered.

Shock kept her in her seat for a few seconds before she jolted herself and stood. "Dad," she said.

"Mind if I have a seat?"

She considered going over to the less formal area but changed her mind, opting to keep the desk between them. "Please come in," she said.

Uncertainty kept her on guard, but she forced herself to sit back in her chair rather than on its edge. Again taking a cue from Connor, she waited rather than fill the silence with nervous chatter.

"I've had some time for thinking," he said. "I despise your attempt to take over my board."

She wanted to correct him, to tell him it was the BHI board. Then she realized that his words helped identify the problem. He thought of himself and the corporation as the same ent.i.ty.

In his place, perhaps she would have, too.

As a young man, he'd started working as a stockbroker. He'd done well enough that he'd left the large firm and started his own company, taking a number of clients with him. She'd heard that the beginning had been b.u.mpy, but he'd had the love and support of Helene. She'd worked a full-time job in addition to being his secretary, and they'd lived in a small, suburban one-bedroom apartment while he'd built his empire. He'd owned ten rental houses and two commercial properties, all of which had produced a nice income, before he and Helene had even considered buying themselves a modest place to live.

They'd continued to work hard and invest, and it hadn't been until he'd made his first two million dollars that they'd even discussed the possibility of starting a family.

"I've never considered that you wouldn't want to take over as CEO." He held up his hand when she might have spoken. "I know. You've said it a hundred times. I haven't listened."

She nodded.

"You know, Lara, since your mother left, my heart hasn't been in it."

Suddenly she saw him in a different light. Stubborn, yes. Curmudgeonly, even. But until now, she hadn't seen him as a lonely man. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Helene has a certain amount of energy. I had no idea how much I fed on it. Over the years, she wasn't as involved in the day-to-day, but every night, we talked about the business. I bounced every idea off her. But about seven years ago, she started talking about spending more time together, traveling, maybe buying a second home in Europe. She said I could run the business just as easily from Tuscany as Houston. I was still wanting to build and she wanted to start paring back."

It occurred to her that her mother hadn't told her this much. But it explained a lot.

"The truth is, as your mother stepped back, I was looking for you to replace that enthusiasm for growth."

For a paralyzing moment, Lara wondered if he was going to fire her. Technically that would be within his rights and his power, but it was an outcome she'd never considered.

"You're not focused on expansion or acquisitions. You don't have the risk tolerance I have. But you bring a steadiness that we need. It could be that both you and your mother are right. That it's time to look at the changing business landscape. There are times for growth, particularly into emerging markets, but there are also times to consolidate so that sustainable growth can occur."

"And that provides the capital to invest elsewhere." There was silence for a moment, then she continued, "You know, Mother is right about other things, too. You can focus your energies where you want, maybe go play a round of golf in Scotland like you've always wanted. And technology can be taught. You can work from Tuscany-"

He shuddered.

"Or the UK. Or your club."

He looked around. "I'm not ready to step down as chairman of the board."

"No one else wants that, either."

"I'm clear on one thing, Lara. I can't allow you to sacrifice yourself for this company."

She shook her head.

"Donovan," he explained. "The man's shrewd. Smart. And you're wrong about his communications offer. It was insulting."

"It was a starting point. And if you look at it as part of the whole, as a chance to have cash to put into our global capitalization efforts, into energy, it's well-worth considering."

"He stands to make millions."

"And so do we," she countered. "Frankly, I wish them well. It's a compet.i.tive marketplace, and it's not in our sweet spot. We don't have the cash to execute on some of our patents. And we've lost some of our key talent to compet.i.tors. This is the time to divest ourselves."

"It's not how I do business."

"No. It's not," she agreed.

"I'll agree to let you negotiate the sale."

She nodded, not betraying the way her inner executive was jumping up and down. She realized what the decision had cost her father.

"But I won't have you marrying Donovan."

Her shoulders sagged. "I beg your pardon?"

"I had a lot of good years with your mother. It's my fault the marriage ended. But marriage is hard enough when you love someone. I appreciate the sacrifice you were willing to make. But it won't be necessary. We'll begin the search for a president, maybe a CEO. I lost your mother, Lara. I won't lose you. Marry him and I'll show up to fight you every step." His jaw was set in determination.

"It's not like you think," she said, her thoughts fracturing.

"Did he get down on one knee and propose to you? Tell you he would love you forever? Then it's exactly as I think. I didn't work my entire life for you to give up yours. Not having the support of someone you love makes life a f.u.c.king quagmire." With that he stood and showed himself out.

As if frozen, she remained in place.

The idea that she didn't have to marry Connor shot relief through her, but the feeling was shrouded in grief. Already, being with him every day and knowing he would never love her was debilitating. A future of it might have destroyed her.

She knew she should be rejoicing. But she couldn't.

Lara pressed her trembling hands to her face as she sorted through her options, not that there were many. Sanity and saving her relations.h.i.+p with her father versus two years with a man who would never love her? Even she wasn't that strong.

This morning, she'd woken up knowing she'd end the day as Mrs. Donovan. The course for the next couple of years had been plotted, and her strategy had been in place. Now that the ground had s.h.i.+fted, she felt uncertain. And she still had an agreement with Connor.

She paced to the window and stared out, unseeing.

If she didn't love him, she wouldn't feel this conflicted. She could simply tell him she'd worked out her issues and thank him for his willingness to help.

But she did love him.

And that made this one of the most difficult things she'd ever had to do. She told herself better now than later, but that meant she'd miss out on two years of memories and experiences.

Her heart raced.

Wis.h.i.+ng her hands would stop shaking, Lara went back to her desk. For a cowardly few minutes, she considered the idea of calling him or sending a text message. But he deserved better than that, even if seeing him made it more difficult for her. Thinking it would be bad taste to contact April, she instead telephoned a cab to take her to Connor's office.

On her way out of the door, she purposefully ignored the garment bag containing the dress she had planned to wear for their wedding.

The cab ride seemed to last forever, even though it had probably taken less than ten minutes.

All too soon, she was in Connor's reception area, and Thompson looked up.

He grinned. "h.e.l.lo, Ms. Bertrand. I don't think he's expecting you. He was planning to leave in a couple of hours to pick you up."

She tried to smile at him, but failed. "My visit will be a surprise."

"Go right in."

"He doesn't have company?" she asked, remembering that Nathan had been with him last time she'd dropped by unexpectedly.

"No, ma'am."

After thanking him, she walked toward the door.

"Can I get you a coffee? And I hid some biscotti for you."

"I'd love to take you up on that, but I've had more than I should have today." And she wanted to get this over with.

She knocked on Connor's door then entered without waiting for an invitation.

On her way over, she'd focused on him and all the reasons he had to be relieved by her father's change of heart. He'd get the communications division, and he wouldn't have to go through with the marriage. He could have his loft to himself, not have to share his workout s.p.a.ce, return the ring and get his money back.

All in all, it was the ideal solution.

He glanced up, and their eyes met.

His smile was slow and sure, and it beckoned her forward. "If it isn't my beautiful bride." He stood and rounded his desk to rest his hips against the corner.

She drank him in, and he stole the rest of her breath.

His s.h.i.+rtsleeves were rolled back, showing the sinew of his forearms, reminding her of the way he wielded a single tail. And a belt.

The knot in his silver tie had been yanked low. He was the picture of studiousness and determination. He was the picture of the man she wanted to love her.

She closed the door and walked toward him, her feet feeling as if they were as heavy as bricks.

His smile faded as she drew closer, then it became a frown. "Everything okay, Lara?"

It was one thing to be certain about her course of action when she was alone, but now that she was near him, resolve wavered. She pulled back a chair and sat, afraid to go close to him. She'd never want to leave his arms otherwise. "I had a meeting with my father," she began.

"You could have called. I would have been there."

She should have guessed he would say that. He'd warned her from the start that he was a protector. It wasn't hard to picture him in armor, slaying a maiden's dragons. "He stopped by my office. And it seems you're off the hook."

"I'm not sure I follow."

She gave him a small smile, it was as much false cheer as she could summon. "We'll get the communications deal done. And he's willing to allow me to start looking for someone to replace him as president, perhaps even CEO. All this means..." She paused to swallow the knot that had lodged in her throat. "What I'm trying to say is... There's no longer a need for us to get married."

He waited, his body still.

"Say something," she implored. "Anything."

Seconds later, when he hadn't, she went on, "I... Thank you." She stood. "I am more grateful than you'll ever know that you were willing to help me out. When I look back, I realize what I'd asked from you. You really are remarkable." And unbearably handsome. "I'll never forget it."

"Let me get this straight," he said, his voice so chilled that an icicle seemed to slide down her spine. "You left our place this morning as my bride-to-be, and now you're saying thanks, but no thanks?"

"That's not..." It was. Exactly. "Yes."

"And you're planning on... What? Collecting your stuff after work? Walking away? Pretending it didn't happen? Not asking for my thoughts? Seeking my council?"

She rose to her feet, pus.h.i.+ng her chair back. "What's the point? Neither of us wanted the marriage."

"You certainly did when you benefitted." His words had the precision of one of his whips.

"I deserve that." She folded her arms to protect herself. "But that's not the point. Two years from today, we were going to amicably end it. This saves us some attorney fees, court costs, any legal maneuvering that might have come up. Our lives would have gotten more complicated, too, I'm sure. I'd like to keep this amicable since we'll be working together on the communications deal."

He looked at her for long seconds before finally speaking, "What the h.e.l.l is this really about?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I would have expected you to come in here and tell me that you and Pernell had spoken then ask my advice. We could have talked it through as a team, had a strategic meeting. But you didn't. You never gave me a chance. You came in here with one purpose, to cancel our wedding."

She went to the window, as far away from him as she could get. "Okay, Connor. You want the truth?" She twisted her hands together. "Here it is. Just remember, you asked for it. You're right. I came here to cancel our wedding. When we made the arrangement"-what seems like a lifetime ago-"you were really clear about one thing. Love wasn't going to be a part of this."