Nine Months To Claim Her by Natalie Anderson

CHAPTER FOUR

Two months later

‘I’MAFRIEND of his mother’s. Of course he’ll see me.’

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea.’ Rosanna hurried alongside her mother, trying once more to change her mind. ‘Ash isn’t in charge of Castle Holdings, it’s Leo Castle you need to speak to.’

‘Him?’Her mother blanched. ‘After all our years of loyalty, he won’t even take our call.’

Rosanna’s headache worsened and a horrible taste burned the back of her throat—a sense of impending doom making her physically ill.

She’d decided on the spur of the moment to come to Sydney to check on her parents. She’d been down a couple of times since their accident the weekend of the Kingston Towers party because neither had seemed themselves. Now she had unpalatable news she figured it was best to give it to them face to face. This morning she’d been informed that she’d not got the junior lecturer job she’d applied for last month. She’d really only applied because she knew she ‘ought’ to progress in her career at the university and at least then the stories her parents spun would almost be true. But she’d not got it—apparently she was ‘valuable’ where she was. Honestly, she was ignoring the part of her that actually felt relieved she’d not been successful and the fact that she didn’t really want to teach those large classes. She’d planned to tell her parents first thing and get it over with, but she’d arrived to find her mother in a rage because Gold Style hadn’t won the tender for Castle Holdings’ new apartment building in Melbourne and, worse, their current contracts had been cancelled. So now her mother had a battle light in her eyes that put Rosanna on edge.

‘Why do you need me with you?’ she asked her.

But she knew why. Ordinarily, her parents were a formidable, forceful pair. Striking-looking, confident, consummate professionals at the art of mingling and making connections to sell their service. But they’d left her father in a slump at home—it was so unlike him not to want to fight for this. Rosanna hoped it was just him taking time to recover from the accident, but he had a pallor that worried her. He’d not been himself in weeks.

‘You saw Ash recently,’ her mother snapped as she stalked along the pavement.

‘Oh.’ Rosanna gulped.

During their interrogation after the Kingston Towers party, Rosanna had made the mistake of admitting to her parents that she’d caught up with Ash Castle. She’d been clutching at straws—desperately thinking of anything to avoid admitting that instead of ‘schmoozing’ possible clients and being seen by Leo Castle, she’d been upstairs having hot sex with a stranger, a security guard.

She still couldn’t believe that had happened. Couldn’t forget it either.

But truthfully her conversation with Ash had lasted all of twenty seconds before she’d pulled her ‘just got to speak to someone’ card to escape the awkwardness. Initially her embarrassment had resurged when he’d brought up what had happened between them all those years ago at school but, now she mentally revisited that brief conversation, it only confirmed her feeling at the time that Ash hadn’t been his usual carelessly charming self. He’d been subdued and concerned enough to speak up, something he’d not done at the time. Perhaps he’d changed? She frowned, because she wasn’t sure people could fundamentally change like that.

‘You finally have an “in” with him again,’ her mother said. ‘He’ll listen to you.’

No one had an ‘in’ with Ash Castle. The guy was reckless in both his business and personal life. He invested heavily in start-ups then pulled the pin the moment he maximised his profits. Plus, he slept with anything with a pulse before rapidly moving on to the next woman. Except for Rosanna, of course. He hadn’t slept with her. He’d only asked her out because his dying mother had told him to ‘be kind to her’. That truth still made her wince.

Ash Castle had been the glittering mirage of possibility. The ‘ideal catch’. Back then Rosanna had wanted to emulate her parents’ success—to show she could be the daughter they wanted her to be. That was through acquiring useful contacts, right? Ash Castle had been the ultimate useful contact. So even though she’d not been particularly keen on him personally, she’d cultivated a relationship in the way her parents encouraged and said yes to his invitation to the dance. Worst idea ever.

Because the video of him ‘cheating’ on her at the school senior dance had caused Rosanna’s public humiliation. But it had been the berating, ongoing disapproval from her mortified parents that had wrecked what self-confidence she’d had left by then. It had been her ‘fault’ for not being a ‘good enough’ girlfriend to keep him. Nothing about her had reached their standards—she’d been too shy and awkward, too crooked—even post-surgery—and now she’d been a public ‘failure’ socially speaking. For her parents, where image was literally everything, it was the worst—especially in that ‘crowd’.

And maybe she hadn’t been a great girlfriend. She’d been flattered that he’d paid her attention and she’d tried, in Gold Style, to make it ‘work’ for her. But she hadn’t fallen for him. Yes, her pride had been crushed, of course. But she’d realised that, not only could she never be as socially acquisitive as her parents, she could never be who or what they wanted. And that was what had really hurt. And while there was little she could do about that, she had decided that never again would she attempt any kind of arranged relationship, or put business considerations at the forefront of personal choices. Call her a fool, but she wanted someone to sweep her off her feet...rather as that security guard had.

It was weeks since she’d given that complete stranger her virginity and she still thought about it too often. Late at night when she ought to be asleep, parts of her body burned so badly she’d had to take cold showers. Which was probably how she’d got this niggly flu. And she’d actually caught herself daydreaming when she should have been concentrating in the lab—wishing a tall, muscular man would stalk into work and whisk her away with silence and a lopsided smile. As if that were ever going to happen. It was an embarrassing fantasy she could never admit to.

But that was irrelevant. What mattered was appeasing her mother and Rosanna was certain there was no point in talking to Ash about Castle Holdings business. It was Leo—the man in charge—who was determinedly shaking things up, who’d refused to award them the contract and cancelled all their other outstanding ones. From all she’d heard the half-brothers were fiercely independent and loyal only to each other. Which meant Ash would refuse to interfere.

‘It’s just one contract, Mum,’ Rosanna tried to reassure her. ‘You’ll get another. You’ll get way more.’

Her mother halted so suddenly that Rosanna had to backtrack three paces.

‘I didn’t want to tell you, but your reluctance leaves me no choice,’ she snapped. ‘In an attempt to leverage what we’d saved, your father invested everything into a different apartment complex. Not one of Castle’s. The deal’s fallen over already.’

‘What?’ Rosanna blinked. ‘What do you mean everything?’

‘Every last cent. While he was laid up with that broken ankle he had too much time to think. He borrowed against the business and our personal home.’

‘He what?’ Rosanna gaped. Her father had put everything they had on the line?

‘We’ve been on the edge for a while. That latest redevelopment we did at home went over budget.’

Her parents were always redesigning their own home. They were renowned for never living more than a season or two with the same style, or even the same home. It was part of their ‘brand’. Everything was staged to look perfect and up to the minute. As a child Rosanna had hated the constant change. She’d never been allowed to keep any of the things she actually liked—not even a favourite cushion. Then they’d sell the house and move on to another to start the process over again. They rarely stayed within budget, always picking the best, most eclectic, most luxurious of fittings and furnishings, making the ultimate show home for their design flair. They’d moved from one place to the next in the most coveted suburbs, chasing glittering prizes and awards—masters of reinvention. They refreshed, revitalised, made their homes and themselves perfect all over again. Home—like everything and everyone within—had to be the best of the best.

Rosanna was meant to be the best of the best too. They’d pushed for success at all costs—even down to using their only child. They’d only wanted one because more children would have interfered too much with their creative careers. They’d pushed her ahead of her years at school because they’d wanted her to be bright. They’d straightened, not just her teeth, but her whole spine in an attempt to perfect her scoliosis and been disappointed when it hadn’t worked as well as they’d wanted. It was better, but not perfect. Not enough for them. She needed to be an accomplishment. Their accomplishment. And when she wasn’t good enough as she was, they embellished the truth. They’d always had to do that with her...

The reality was she was awkward and didn’t want to get involved with some suitable society guy in a mutually advantageous arrangement or basically a business deal. The one time she’d attempted it, it had blown up in her face. But it was what her parents had done. They had a business merger more than a love match. They’d pitted their acumen together and forged identity with activity. But Rosanna had decided, after the Ash Castle debacle, that if ever she were to marry, it would only be for love. Maybe it was naive or romantic, but she wanted to be wanted—for all that she was, and for all that she wasn’t. Because she wasn’t ever being a disappointment to her partner as well.

But now...had her parents’ tendency to blow the budget finally caught up with them? Rosanna finally realised that not even the heavy make-up could conceal the stress in her mother’s eyes. Their livelihood was in peril. It explained her father’s dejection.

‘So now you know why this is vital and I need you by my side,’ her mother added. ‘You’re friends with Ash. All that money we spent on that school for you has to mean something. We’re counting on you.’

Her mother’s plan was preposterous. Apparently they would say they were ‘just walking past’ Ash’s office...as if that were ever going to be believable. They had no chance of succeeding. Ash had wanted nothing to do with his father’s business. But her mother was so fired up, her father a shadow of his usual self, and Rosanna still loved them and wanted them to be proud of her. She wasn’t the son her father had wanted, not the beauty her mother had; she was never going to be some society princess or talented interior designer who could take over the family business. She had hoped her job would work out and even that had failed. So, this one last chance? She couldn’t say no.

‘Okay.’ Rosanna nodded. ‘Let’s go.’

She tried to hold her head high as they walked into the tall building but she was wearing an appallingly pink vintage Chanel suit that was her mother’s—as the jeans she’d travelled in weren’t smart enough. So she who ‘should never wear pink because of her red hair’, she who also ‘shouldn’t wear anything too fitting’ because it would highlight the irregular curves of her waist thanks to the wonkiness of her spine, was now wearing both. The imperfect things she was supposed to hide were glaringly on show today. But to Rosanna it didn’t matter whether she hid her physical imperfections or not. She was imperfect. Yet she’d worked hard to be happy within herself—honestly? She’d been happy when she’d first seen the results of her surgery. It had been enough for her. But not them. Never them.

She sucked in a breath, trying to revitalise her low spirits. But she’d not got the job. She wasn’t going to see the security guard again. Her parents were on the verge of losing everything. And now she had to face the source of her teenage humiliation for the second time in as many months.

Could her day get any worse?

Ash Castle’s offices were in an ultra-modern building in the heart of Sydney. Taking a breath, Rosanna followed her mother and another couple of people into the elevator and pressed the button to take them to the top. It was going to be mortifying but Rosanna had been through worse; she’d survive.

‘Hold that, please!’

A peremptory tone made her spine tingle. She obeyed without even thinking, pushing the ‘doors open’ button down while the man strode in. Not a man—a muscle mountain. Rosanna stared, horrified. It was him. Indigo eyes, smouldering sensuality, her secret. Her blood began to sizzle but at the same time, she was melting with embarrassment. He was looking down at his phone, frowning again, the way he had that night just after they’d been together. She could only hope he’d keep staring at it for the duration of the elevator ride.

Of course, he didn’t. He glanced up and around as the doors slid shut, his blue gaze landing on her after the briefest of seconds. His eyes widened, the pupils surging so quickly they all but swallowed those striking irises. But he said nothing. Rosanna turned to stare straight ahead but her wretched skin burned and she felt herself beginning to sweat. She held her breath but the elevator seemed to be moving stupidly slowly. One person stepped out on the third floor. The other on the fifth. That left just him and her mother. Was he heading to the top floor too?

From her peripheral vision she knew he now leaned against the wall at the side. She felt his gaze on her—burning through her like some horrible powerful ray-gun. Doubtless he was puzzling over why she was here. The real question was why was he? This wasn’t Kingston Towers. This was Ash Castle’s company headquarters.

Her headache was blasted away by a jolt of adrenalin and astonishment. She was acutely aware of her mother beside her. Nervously she shot her a glance only to be hit by another wave of astonishment. Why was her mother suddenly so pale?

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open but none of them moved. It was as if they were all frozen.

‘After you, ladies,’ he eventually said.

It should’ve been the epitome of polite, yet there was a drawling sarcasm about the way he said ‘ladies’. It was unfathomable. Her mother hesitated then walked out onto the landing. But then she turned to face the man who’d followed them both out.

‘You’ve not met my daughter, Rose.’

Rosanna’s jaw dropped. Did her mother know him? But her mother didn’t do the helpful thing and introduce him to her. He was the security specialist, wasn’t he?

He glanced at Rosanna. His eyes narrowed and there was a stiffness in his stance that made her even more wary. He looked like a predator about to attack. There was no reason to attack. No reason to embarrass her—surely?

‘Actually, Danielle, I have met your daughter. We met at the Kingston Towers opening. Didn’t we, Rose?’

Time stopped completely. All Rosanna could hear was the rush of her own blood pulsing too fast.

‘You did? Rose?’ Her mother sounded startled and expectant for more information.

But Rosanna couldn’t take her gaze off the man before her. How did he know her mother’s name? Why did he look so grim? There was no sign of that dimple now, only cold anger. Suddenly she was afraid of what he might reveal.

‘Briefly,’ she said faintly.

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

That burning nauseous feeling returned. But he was still watching her and something raw flickered in his face before the rigid lethality in his gaze intensified.

‘Is there anything I can help you with today?’ he asked coolly. His glance flickered from her to her mother and back again.

Rosanna had lost all power of speech. Why would he be able to help them?

‘No.’ Her mother pushed the elevator button. It hadn’t had time to go anywhere so the doors immediately reopened. ‘I’ve just realised we need to be elsewhere. I’ve got my meetings muddled. My apologies.’

Why was her mother apologising? Why was she so flustered and in such a hurry to leave?

‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a few minutes to catch up with Rose again. Just briefly.’ He stressed the word lightly but that lethal look in his eyes didn’t lessen as he stepped nearer to her. ‘That’s if you can spare her, Danielle?’

‘Oh?’ Her mother sounded shocked and then shot Rosanna a sharp look. ‘Then I’ll see you at home later, Rose.’

Rosanna was too stunned to move but the moment the elevator doors shut—blocking her mother from view—the security guard grabbed her arm and marched her away from the weirdly absorbed attention of the two women staffing reception.

‘What’s going on?’ she hissed as he opened a door.

He didn’t answer. He guided her into a room and closed the door behind them both. Rosanna’s uneasiness grew. Worse, so did the awareness within her body.

Who on earth was he and what on earth did he want?