Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire #2) by Rosalind James Read Free Book Online Page B

“Auckland.”
    “Property settlement?” he asked.
    “That’s handled separately from the divorce here, and anyway, neither of us had anything while we were married. Nothing to settle.”
    “Got it. Send me that scan, and I’ll be back with you with more as soon as I know. Is there a reason this is coming up now?”
    Walter knew I operated on a need-to-know basis. Unfortunately, there were heaps of things an attorney needed to know, and if he was asking, there was a reason.
    “Yes,” I said. “I’m getting married on Saturday.”
    “Right,” he said. “Then there are a number of things you probably need in addition to that documentation. A prenuptial agreement, for a start. An alteration to your trust, maybe, depending on the prenup. By Saturday? Could be tricky. Will you be back before then, or are we doing this remotely?”
    “Remotely,” I said. “Get me that documentation, and we’ll discuss the rest later.”
    Walter started to say something, checked himself, said, “Will do,” and rang off, and I rolled my head on my neck a couple times, lifted and lowered my shoulders, took another deep breath, set the matter into the “Delegated” pile, and rang Violet Renfrow in Auckland. And then I went home, collected Hope and Karen, and took them to visit Violet.

Hope

    Hemi was weird.
    He’d made love to me so tenderly the night before, exactly as sweetly as he’d been fierce earlier in the day. He’d held me tight and showed me how well he knew how to please me, and how willing he was to make the effort. And when he’d whispered those Maori words in my ear, I’d breathed in his scent, run my hands over his warrior’s body, ached with love for him, and had known I was getting the man behind the mask, the vulnerable, caring, fiercely tender man he showed to nobody but me.
    He’d been the same when we’d woken this morning. His mood had seemed so loving, so…lighthearted, even. But now? He’d been his most brooding, reserved self all the way to Auckland, and I didn’t know why. I wanted to ask him if he were having second thoughts after all, or if it was something else—bad news from work, maybe—but how could I, with Karen in the car?
    When he’d come back to his grandfather’s house a couple hours ago, he’d stalked straight through the kitchen, picked me up out of my chair, kissed me hard, and held me so tightly, it had almost hurt. I’d heard Karen exclaim, “Whoa,” but I hadn’t cared about that. I’d held Hemi and whispered, “It’s all right. It’s all right.” I’d thought he’d been overcome by the step he’d taken, and I’d wanted him to know I understood.
    Then he’d stood back, his hands gripping my arms, looked into my eyes, and said, “Want to go buy a wedding dress?”
    “Yes,” I’d said, trying to smile at him, but off-balance at the intensity I still saw in his eyes. “I do.”
    His expression had finally softened. “Practicing saying that, eh.”
    “Could be.” I’d smiled some more, but he hadn’t smiled back. “Did you get the license?”
    “Collecting it tomorrow. It’ll be done. Let’s go.”
    He’d grown quieter and quieter once we’d climbed into the car for the two-hour journey to Auckland, resisting all my attempts to draw him out to the point where I eventually asked him, “Do you mind if we listen to some music?”
    “No worries.” He punched a button on the dash to connect the Bluetooth so that the playlist he’d made for me had filled the silence. And I told myself that a man who asked you what music you liked, then made sure it was playing for you…that was a man who loved you, no matter how silent and preoccupied he was. Which probably had nothing to do with me.
    It’s not all about you, I scolded myself. He’s an incredibly busy man with a lot on his mind.
    We drove through Auckland on the motorway, finally exiting at someplace called Penrose, which wouldn’t be featuring on any list of “Auckland’s Most Glamorous