the plane of the desk. She’d sat in front of the massive piece of furniture, but she’d never gone around it.
Today she did. Maybe it was the hormones again, maybe it was the way Chadwick had spoken to her yesterday in that low voice—promising to take care of her.
She saw the tension ripple through his back as she stepped closer. The day before, she’d been upset and he’d touched her. Today, the roles were reversed.
She put her hand on his shoulder. Through the shirt, she felt the warmth of his body. That’s all. She didn’t even try to turn him as he’d turned her. She just let him know she was there.
He shifted and, pulling his opposite hand away from his face, reached back to grab hers. Yesterday, he’d had all the control. But today? Today she felt they were on equal footing.
She laced their fingers together, but that was as far as it went. She couldn’t make the same kinds of promises he had—she couldn’t take care of him when she wasn’t even sure how she was going to take care of her baby. But she could let him know she was there, if he needed her.
She chose not to think about exactly what that might mean.
“Serena,” Chadwick said, his voice raw as his fingers tightened around hers.
She swallowed. But before she could come up with a response, there was a knock on the door and in walked Matthew Beaumont, Vice President of Public Relations for the Beaumont Brewery. He looked a little like Chadwick—commanding build, the Beaumont nose—but where Chadwick and Phillip were lighter, sandier blondes, Matthew had more auburn coloring.
Serena tried to pull her hand free, but Chadwick wouldn’t let her go. It was almost as if he wanted Matthew to see them touching. Holding hands.
It was one thing to stick a toe over the business-professional line when it was just her and Chadwick in the office—no witnesses meant it hadn’t really happened, right? But Matthew was no idiot.
“Am I interrupting?” Matthew asked, his eyes darting between Serena’s face, Chadwick’s face, and their interlaced hands.
Of course, Serena would rather take her chances with Matthew than with Phillip Beaumont. Phillip was a professional playboy who flaunted his wealth and went to a lot of parties. As far as Serena could tell, Phillip might be the kind of guy who wouldn’t have stopped at a simple touch the day before. Of course, with his gorgeous looks, he probably had plenty of invitations to keep going.
Matthew was radically different from either of his brothers. Serena guessed that was because his mother was Hardwick’s second wife, but Matthew was always working hard, as if he were trying to prove he belonged at the brewery. But he did so without the intimidation that Chadwick could wear like a second skin.
With a quick squeeze, Chadwick released her hand and she took a small step back. “No,” Chadwick said. “We’re done here.”
For some inexplicable reason, the words hurt. She didn’t know why. She had no good reason for him to defend their touch to his half brother. She had absolutely no reason why she would want Chadwick to defend their relationship—because they didn’t have one outside of boss and trusted employee.
She gave a small nod of her head that she wasn’t sure either of them saw, and walked out of his office.
* * *
Minutes passed. Chadwick knew that Matthew was sitting on the other side of the desk, no doubt waiting for something, but he wasn’t up for that just yet.
Helen was out to ruin him. If he knew why, he’d try to make it up to her. But hadn’t that pretty much described their marriage? She got her nose bent out of shape, Chadwick had no idea why, but he did his damnedest to make it up to her? He bought her diamonds. She liked diamonds. Then he added rubies to the mix. He’d thought it made things better.
It hadn’t. And he was more the fool for thinking it had.
He replayed the conversation with Serena. He hadn’t talked much about his divorce to anyone, beyond informing his brothers that it was a problem that would be taking up some measure of his time. He didn’t know why he’d told Serena it was his fault that negotiations had gotten to this point.
All he knew was that he’d had to tell someone. The burden of knowing that this whole thing was a problem he’d created all by himself was more than he could bear.
And she’d touched him. Not like he’d touched her, no, but not like she’d ever touched him before. More than a handshake, that was for damn sure.
When was the last time a woman had touched him aside from the business handshakes that went with the job? Helen had moved out of the master bedroom almost two years before. Not since before then, if he was being honest with himself.
Matthew cleared his throat, which made Chadwick look up. “Yes?”
“If I thought you were anything like our father,” Matthew began, his voice walking the fine line between sympathetic and snarky, “I’d assume you were working on wife number two.”
Chadwick glared at the man. Matthew was only six months younger than Chadwick’s younger brother, Phillip. It had taken several more years before Hardwick’s and Eliza’s marriage had crumbled, and Hardwick had married Matthew’s mother, Jeannie, but once Chadwick’s mother knew about Jeannie, the end was just a matter of time.
Matthew was living proof that Hardwick Beaumont had been working on wife number two long before he’d left wife number one.
“I haven’t gotten rid of wife number one yet.” Even as he said it, though, Chadwick flinched. That was something his father would have said. He detested sounding like his father. He detested being like his father.
“Which only goes to illustrate how you are not like our father,” Matthew replied with an easy-going grin, the same grin that all the Beaumont men had. A lingering gift from their father. “Hardwick wouldn’t have cared. Marriage vows meant nothing to him.”
Chadwick nodded. Matthew spoke the truth and Chadwick should have taken comfort in that. Funny how he didn’t.
“I take it Helen is not going quietly into the night?”
Chadwick hated his half brother right then. True, Phillip—Chadwick’s full brother, the only person who knew what it was like to have both Hardwick and Eliza Beaumont as parents—wouldn’t have understood either. But Chadwick hated sitting across from the living symbol of his father’s betrayal of both his wife and his family.
It was a damn shame that Matthew had such a good head for public relations. Any other half relative would have found himself on the street long ago, and then Chadwick wouldn’t have had to face his father’s failings as a man and a husband on a daily basis.
He wouldn’t have had to face his own failings on a daily basis.
“Buy her out,” Matthew said simply.
“She doesn’t want money. She wants to hurt me.” There had to be something wrong with him, he decided. Since when did he air his dirty laundry to anyone—including his executive assistant, including his half brother?
He didn’t. His personal affairs were just that, personal.
Matthew’s
