The Ex Upstairs by Maureen Child

Six

While he looked at her, seeing past the clumsy disguise, Henry had an idea. “Do you want to see the reason I bought this house?”

Her eyes held questions and a little doubt, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I guess so.”

“I’ll take that answer,” he said. “Follow me.”

He walked out of his bedroom and down the hall to a closed door that he opened to reveal a staircase lit from above, with the sun shining down through a heavy pane of glass.

“I was expecting another bedroom behind that door,” she admitted, looking up the stairs to the closed door above.

“So was I when I first saw this place,” he admitted, and started up, with Amanda close on his heels. He opened the door to a wash of sunlight and the wide scope of a deep blue sky studded with white clouds. Stepping back, he made way for her to join him and when she had, he closed the door behind them.

“This is—” she did a slow turn, taking it all in “—fantastic.”

“Just my reaction,” he agreed and looked at the rooftop patio, seeing it again as if for the first time.

Cool blue tiles on the floor that almost made it seem as though you were walking on water. A pergola covered by flowering jasmine vines that grew from terra-cotta pots at the base of all four posts and filled the air with an almost too-sweet fragrance. A hot tub, covered now, but ready for relaxing beneath a star-splashed sky some evening soon. There were raised beds filled with more flowers that spilled bright colors over the edges and waved in the breeze sliding in from the ocean. There were chairs drawn up to a round chrome-and-glass table and a small wet bar, complete with refrigerator.

Amanda walked toward a gathering of chaises left behind by the former owner. There were thick navy blue cushions with white piping on several chairs as well as the chaises, and the whole setting looked like an oasis.

“This really is amazing,” she said, walking around the gathered furniture to look out at the view over the vinyl railing.

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, though he wasn’t admiring the same view she was. Having her here, he knew, was asking for yet more memories to taunt him, but it would be worth it.

“You can see for miles from up here,” she whispered as if more to herself than him.

“Yeah, it was the selling point,” he admitted, joining her at the rail. “After leaving LA, I realized I wanted something less...closed in, I guess. When I stepped out onto this roof, I knew I’d found it.”

“Understandable.”

“Have you ever had a moment like that?” he asked. “Seeing something. Knowing you had to have it?”

It took her a moment to answer. “Yes. Once.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

She tipped her head up to look at him and swept some of that fake black hair out of her eyes at the same time. “Not well. Just because you have something you want, doesn’t mean you get to keep it.”

He knew she was talking about the two of them. Because he’d damn well felt the same when he first met Amanda. The moment he saw her, when she was just eighteen and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen before, Henry had wanted her. Even the thought of her had become everything to him. Not just the woman who made him want, but almost a symbol of everything that had been lacking in his life.

After his mother died, he’d been alone more often than not. And even when his father was there, Henry had been on his own because Michael Porter had been more mentor than father.

Then suddenly, there was a gorgeous, funny, kind woman looking at him as if he were all she could see and Henry had felt his world shift. Settle.

“Well,” he said, his voice firm as he pushed away the memories, “I’m planning on keeping this.”

“Don’t blame you,” she said, pushing away from the rail. “I’d better get back to work.”

“Sure.” He watched her walk toward the door but he couldn’t let her leave. Not yet. “I like you with your own blond hair better, Amanda.”

She stopped dead.

The sun streamed down onto the roof, glancing off the sapphire tiles and dazzling Amanda in a glow that made Henry’s heart clutch in his chest. He couldn’t look away from her as she slowly turned to face him. There was irritation and acceptance stamped on her features and he enjoyed knowing he’d caught her off guard.

She sighed. “How long have you known?”

“You think you fooled me?” he countered and took a few steps closer to her. “I knew right away. That wig and the glasses? Not much of a disguise.”

She actually looked embarrassed. “Fooled everyone else.”

“Not me,” he said and closed the last of the distance between them. Locking his gaze on hers, he shook his head. “You think I wouldn’t know your eyes? Wouldn’t see past the short black hair to you?”

“Honestly?” Her mouth twisted. “I didn’t expect you to be around as much as you were.”

He laughed shortly, but he believed her. “So you were planning what? To sneak around and look for information on me?”

She bristled. “Strange to hear you sound so insulted. Isn’t that what you do, Henry?”

Confused, he asked, “What’re you talking about?”

She folded her arms over her chest and hitched one hip higher than the other. Tipping her head to one side, she studied him. “Somehow, you’re getting inside info on me, on my family and what we’re doing.”

He had been. He wouldn’t deny it. But he hadn’t had to don a disguise and sneak around to do it. “I’m not admitting to anything, but if I were, could you blame me? Ten years ago, your brother accused me of all kinds of crap, then set out to destroy my father’s company.”

“How?”

“By doing just what you’re accusing me of,” Henry said. “He paid for information, undercut offers, snatched up real estate that we were after. Sound familiar?”

She shifted uncomfortably and he had the satisfaction of knowing that at least he’d given her something to think about. Hell, Bennett had gotten this ball rolling. All Henry had done was keep it going. “Is it really so surprising that I’d do the same?”

“No,” she said after thinking about it for a moment. “I suppose not. So it shouldn’t surprise you any to find me here, doing what I thought I had to.”

“No, I’m not surprised.” In fact, he’d enjoyed it. “So you’re here for what? Payback?”

She pushed one hand through the hair of her wig and scowled as if the motion wasn’t satisfying at all. “Can you blame me?”

“Answer my question first,” he said, never taking his gaze from hers.

“Fine,” she blurted out, throwing both hands high in exasperation. “Yes, I came here for a reason. I want to know how you’re getting your information, Henry.” She set her hands on her hips. “Happy now?”

“Sure,” he countered wryly. “Nothing like finding out your ex is snooping through your house to put a smile on your face.”

She ignored that statement. “I need to know who’s talking to you.”

“Why would I tell you that, Amanda?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding sharply. “And that is why I’m wearing this ridiculous wig and the glasses. I knew if I confronted you and just asked outright, you’d never tell me.” She pulled the glasses off while she talked and he was looking into her summer-blue eyes.

“I’ll say it again. It was your family that came after mine ten years ago, Amanda. Did you think I’d forget about that?”

She laughed and turned her face into the wind. “No.”

“At least you know me that well.”

“Damn it, Henry...”

“Did it work?” he asked aloud. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did not. And you know it.” Disgusted, she twirled the glasses in her right hand. “Do you keep everything in your mind, or just on your computer? Not a single piece of paper or a Post-it note with any clues. Nothing. It’s been a frustrating couple of days.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, amused in spite of himself.

“You don’t have to enjoy it so much,” she snapped.

What did it say about him that he enjoyed even the bristle of her temper? “Can’t help myself. You’ve been working as my maid for two days. How’d it feel?”

“Like a misery,” she admitted, huffing out a breath. “You’ll be happy to know that Martha should have been a drill sergeant or a general or something. The woman has no off switch. Work, work, work.”

He had to admit, he almost felt sorry for Amanda because he did know what a stickler for work Martha was. They’d had more than one maid quit because they simply couldn’t perform up to the older woman’s standards. “You must have kept up or she would have gotten rid of you.”

“I’m so proud,” she mumbled.

Henry wanted to reach for her. His hands burned to touch her, but he knew she’d pull away, so he controlled that urge.

“Well,” she said, “the upside to being discovered is that I can lose this wig. Hold these for me.” She handed him the pair of glasses, then reached up to pull off the black wig. “God, that feels good,” she whispered, running her fingers through her own hair as it tumbled down to hang free around her shoulders. She shook her head and the wind lifted that golden-blond mass into a glorious tangle that only made him want to spear his fingers through it.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But even more than that beauty, he admired the quickness of her mind, the stubborn streak that pushed her into doing things like being a maid/spy, and her ability to laugh at herself. As she was now.

“If I’d thought you’d be at the house so much, I never would have tried this,” she admitted, holding up the wig and glaring at it as if it were a misbehaving pet. “Who knew you weren’t chained to your company as Bennett and my dad are to ours?”

“I used to be,” he said, handing her back the pair of glasses. “When I was scrambling to keep Bennett from killing us off, I spent most of my time at the office, listening to my father rage about ‘those damn Careys.’”

“Charming,” she said. “But my father and Bennett were no fonder of the Porters.”

“I can see that.” Hell, their families had been in an undeclared war for years. Both sides had battled blindly, neither of them willing to quit, scattering the wounded along the sidelines as they went. Until it had become, as Candace Carey said only the night before, ridiculous. He hadn’t been able to admit that to himself before, but he could see it now.

Henry’s company had long ago passed Bennett and the Careys. Porter Enterprises was bigger than he’d ever imagined it would be. And the need to prove himself—to anyone—well, Henry had grown out of that years ago.

So he’d continued this mutual-destruction pact merely out of habit. And maybe for the amusement it brought him to know that he was driving Bennett insane. Also part of it, though, was knowing that even if they were at war, it meant that Amanda was thinking about him, too.

How was it possible that he wanted her more than he had ten years ago? Back then, she’d been all he could see. All he could think about. Now, his world was much bigger, but so was his desire for her.

She folded and unfolded the glasses in her hands and blew out a breath. “Since I’m leaving without the information I came for, the least you can do is tell me something else.”

Henry laughed shortly. “The least I can do? Who’s the spy here?”

She waved that away and he thought that, at the moment, he might have been tempted to tell her everything.

“Fine,” he said. “Ask.”

“Okay, then.” She pushed her hair back with one hand, and took a deep breath before speaking. “Why did you really come to the audition last night?”

He looked deeply into her eyes and said the simple truth. Henry didn’t bother with the glib answer—annoying Bennett, or trying to interrupt whatever the Carey family had going. Instead, he told her the real reason. The only reason he’d been there.

“To see you. The real you.” Her eyes widened just a bit and if he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he might not have noticed the tiny reaction.

“And it was worth it. You were beautiful. You always are,” he amended, “but last night, you seemed...more. And I really liked that dress.”

Just thinking of how she’d looked in the sapphire dress, with that luscious hair falling around her shoulders, brushing against her neck, made him want to reach for her. And he wondered if she’d allow it. If she’d slide against him like she used to. If she’d welcome his touch as he craved hers.

To answer his own questions, Henry reached out for her, took her upper arms in a firm but gentle hold and pulled her in close.

Her head tipped back, her eyes locked on his. She didn’t say no. Didn’t pull away. He took that as an invitation that he was going to accept. Keeping his eyes open, on hers, he bent his head to claim her lips in a kiss that started off tender. Damn near hesitant. But she leaned into him, and Henry deepened that kiss, tasting her as he’d wanted to for far too long.

He pulled her in close, pinning her to his body, and he felt her hook her arms around his neck, and he heard the wig and glasses hit the floor behind him. She opened her mouth under his, and the first sweep of his tongue sent both of them over the edge of hunger into quickening desire.

She moaned, tangled her tongue with his, and Henry fought to breathe. Stars burst behind his now-closed eyes as the feel, the scent, the taste of her filled him. She was everything. She was all. Always had been. He’d tried to forget her. Tried to lose the memory of her in other women. Had even married someone in a vain attempt to move the hell on. None of it had worked.

He craved her now more than he ever had before. Had to have her. He broke the kiss and stared down at her as he struggled for air, fought to speak past the pain of need clutching at him.

“Over here,” he said and took her hand, tugging her toward one of the thick cushioned chaises on the roof.

“No.” She dug in her heels and pulled back when he would have drawn her closer. A harsh laugh shot from her throat as she shook her head. “Wow. I’m saying no, Henry. I’m not sleeping with you. Not now, especially.”

He gave her a quick half smile. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

“Point,” she acknowledged wryly, but pulled her hand from his.

Amazing, Henry thought, how empty he could feel at the simple loss of her touch.

“But I’m not a pushover anymore, Henry.”

“You never were,” he corrected and remembered the time when they were together. “There was nothing easy about you, Amanda.”

Nodding slightly, she shifted her gaze to the view beyond the roof where they stood in the wash of sunlight. They were so close, he thought, and yet they might as well have been miles apart. He could still taste her. His heartbeat was hammering in his chest and his body ached for more—even knowing he wasn’t going to get it. Maybe because.

“I’ve been without you for ten years, Henry,” she finally said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

“Now you don’t have to be,” he said.

She turned her head to look at him and her eyes were almost wistful. Was she wishing things were different? And if she was, why didn’t she make them so?

“Sex wouldn’t solve anything.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to.”

“There’s a male reaction,” she said on a short laugh.

“Guilty,” he admitted, holding one hand up as if taking a pledge. Then he moved closer, ran one hand up and down her arm just to watch a flash of desire spark in her eyes. “I want you.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I want you, too.”

“Then...”

“Sex with you complicates things that are already so muddled and twisted up, I’m not sure I could navigate those waters.” It cost her to admit that; he could see it in her eyes.

“Besides,” she added, lightening her tone as if she felt as cool and casual as she was sounding, “sex on a chaise on the roof in broad daylight with a houseful of movers and workers just two floors below us?”

“Could be exciting,” he murmured and she shivered, letting him know without words that she was feeling the same no matter what she was saying.

“Yeah, thanks for the offer,” she said, but shook her head. “Now. Since my subterfuge is outed, I’m leaving. You can tell Martha that ‘Amelia’ quit.”

“Too scared to stay?” Would that challenge push her into changing her mind?

“Scared? No. Too tired to try to please your drill sergeant housekeeper for another day? Yes.” Still, she smiled at him, though it was too brief to Henry’s mind.

“She’s tough. You’re tougher,” he said.

“Maybe I’m not feeling so tough right now,” she said. “So it’s definitely time to go.”

“If you’re going to leave, then let’s say goodbye properly.” Henry swooped in on her, pulled her up close again and, just for a minute, luxuriated in the feel of her body pressed to his. He’d missed just this, Henry thought. Having her heart beat against his, her breath dusting his face, her eyes staring up at him with so many questions written deep inside.

Having this moment wasn’t enough, though. He didn’t know what the hell was going on between them now any more than he had ten years ago. All he was sure of was that he had to touch her, taste her, have her or he wasn’t sure he’d live through the torment of doing without much longer.

He kissed her then and poured more into it than he had the first time. He took and gave and allowed the sensations crowding inside him to take him over. Just the touch of her mouth to his sent him racing toward a completion he needed more than his next breath. And though he couldn’t have that... Yet, he still showed her in that kiss what it meant to have her in his arms again.

She went limp against him even as her mouth fused to his. Her tongue took what he offered and he knew she felt what he did. Wanted what he did. Needed, as he did.

And because he was so sure of that simple fact, he was able to let her go, though it cost him, tearing at his guts, twisting his heart.

He lifted his head and looked down at her features, softened and blissful, and he wondered if his face carried the same stamp. Rubbing his hands up and down her arms, he set her back from him and struggled to find his balance. Hell, struggled to breathe.

He watched her slowly gather herself, and when she was steady, Henry bent down and picked up the ugly black wig and discarded glasses. Holding them out to her, he felt the brush of her hand when she took them from him.

She whipped her now-wind-tossed blond hair back behind her shoulder, then tipped her head back to look up at him. “I’m not going to try to lie and say I didn’t enjoy that because what would be the point?”

He only nodded.

“But Henry,” she said, “it doesn’t change anything that happened ten years ago. Doesn’t make the war going on between you and my family suddenly end.”

“What will?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

She blew out a breath. “Honestly, I don’t know if anything can. Goodbye, Henry.”

He watched her leave and didn’t follow. As she said, what would be the point? And when the door closed behind her, Henry moved to the railing and looked out at that expansive view. Alone.

After a long, dream-filled night, Amanda was tired, crabby and so churned up, she could hardly concentrate. Late morning, she was at her assistant’s desk, when her youngest brother strode in. She heard the reaction first, then watched as a ripple of awareness spread from desk to desk as he walked through. Like waves on the ocean, whispers followed him, women pushed their chairs out into the aisle to get a better look and Amanda could only smile as he got closer.

Justin Carey was six feet two inches tall, with light brown hair that fell across his collar and managed to look rebellious without being tacky. His square jaw carried a perpetual shadow of whiskers and his sharp blue eyes missed nothing. As the youngest, he’d spent most of his life observing his siblings and parents and the world around him while managing to keep himself apart.

Even today, in the Carey world, men wore custom-made suits and power ties—but Justin gravitated to black jeans, Doc Martens and a black leather Armani jacket. And women practically drooled when he walked by.

To Amanda’s eyes, he looked just what he was: the rebel in the family and he was damned proud of it. She’d come to understand that Justin enjoyed the role of outsider in the family and played it up whenever possible.

He walked right up to her, grinned, then hooked one arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on top of her head. Amanda laughed, then gave him a playful shove that didn’t move him back an inch.

“To what do we owe the honor of a visit?” she asked wryly. “And first, let me say that I notice you showed up on a day a family meeting is not scheduled.”

“Not an accident,” he replied, still grinning. “Actually, I came to talk to you, Mandy. Got a minute?”

Curiosity roared to life inside her as she looked at her younger brother. “For you? Sure.”

She led him into her office and, instead of taking the chair behind her desk, sat down on the forest green couch. Patting the cushion beside her, she said, “Take a seat. Or do you want something to drink?” She waved one hand at the small fridge against the wall behind her desk. “I’ve got some sodas, water and juices...”

He laughed. “Yeah, no thanks. Now, if you had a beer...”

“Sit down, Justin,” she said with another shake of her head. “And tell me what’s going on.”

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it at the end of the couch. He wore a black T-shirt beneath that jacket, and though it felt weird to notice, Amanda had to admit that her baby brother was ripped. Of course, if he didn’t want people to notice, the T-shirt wouldn’t be so tight.

“Okay, here’s the deal.” Justin propped one booted foot on his knee. “I’ve been avoiding coming back here—”

“Yeah, not earth-shattering news,” she said.

He shrugged. “Not really in the mood to have Dad tell me that I should be taking my place in the family dynasty again.”

Amanda winced. True. Their father had never understood Justin’s reluctance to fall in line with the other Careys. It wasn’t so much that he was angry about the situation. More like Justin completely befuddled Martin. Their father simply didn’t understand his youngest son. Bennett had been the perfect Hereditary Corporate King, she thought, capitalizing the title even in her mind.

The difference was, Bennett actually enjoyed the ins and outs of running a hugely diversified company. He was excited by the challenges and always looking for ways to expand the family’s holdings. Serena hadn’t wanted the business world, but when her marriage dissolved, she came in and gave it her best anyway.

As for Amanda? Well, she’d always wanted to be a part of things. On her own terms, of course. She wasn’t interested in burying herself in business as Bennett did. Or in only doing enough to get by, like Serena. Amanda relished the organizational nightmare of scheduling performers for the center. And she’d had a plan to build on the center’s reputation—but that had ended when Henry snatched the hall right out from under her.

Funny, but when she was talking to him the day before, when he was kissing her, she’d forgotten all about how he’d submarined her. Now though, it came back to niggle at her even while she tried to focus on her brother.

Justin had never fit in at the company. He’d avoided interning there by getting a job at a local surf shop when he was sixteen. He had gotten a master’s in business like the rest of them, but he’d also taken classes that had baffled their father. He couldn’t understand studying something that wasn’t going to benefit the family. The legacy he had built and wanted to leave to his children.

Amanda shifted on the couch, kicked off her high-heeled sandals and curled one leg up beneath her. Smoothing her slacks with the palms of her hands, she looked at Justin and asked, “What’s going on? You never just show up out of nowhere unless something’s wrong, so spill it.”

He laughed shortly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, not nice.”

“But accurate,” she countered, smiling. “So talk.”

“Fine.” He shifted, too, laying one arm along the back of the sofa as he turned to face Amanda. “There is something going on and before I talk about it, I want to know where Dad’s standing on the whole retirement thing.”

“On shifting sands.” Amanda propped her elbow on the back of the couch and rested one fist against the side of her head. “Mom’s irritated because Dad can’t let go. And Bennett’s wound even tighter than usual for the same reason.”

“Great,” Justin muttered and scrubbed one hand across his jaw.

“What’s this about, Justin?” She watched him and the first tiny curl of worry began to unwind through her. “Do you need help? Are you in trouble?”

He laughed shortly and pushed off the couch. Staring down at her, he said, “You don’t have to look so stricken, Mandy. I’m fine.” Shaking his head, he stalked across the width of her office before spinning around and heading right back. Looking down at her again, he said, “It’s just that I’ve got some things going on and I’m looking for the right time to lay it all out to the family.”

Now her curiosity really kicked up a notch. Justin showing up out of nowhere was a sure sign that something was happening with him. And now he tells her there’s something to say but wasn’t telling her what it was?

Amanda fought down her frustration because at the moment, her youngest brother looked torn between confessing all and locking his secrets up tight. Hammering at him wouldn’t get him to tell her anything. She knew that from experience. He was just hardheaded enough to keep everything to himself even if he wanted to tell her. Instead, she’d have to finesse it out of him.

“Well, okay,” she admitted, “now’s not the best time to spring something on Bennett or Dad. But when is?”

“You’ve got me there,” he admitted and shoved both hands into his jeans pockets. He shifted his gaze to the wide windows displaying a view of the green spaces and the other office buildings spearing up nearby.

“So really, you don’t have much to lose by doing it now, since the timing will never be perfect.”

He glanced at her and she could see him considering his options. “Yeah, but if I wait until Dad officially retires and actually leaves the building, then I only deal with Bennett.”

“If Mom can’t get him to—and she can’t—no one can.” Amanda stood up and walked barefoot to stand in front of him. She still couldn’t get over how tall he was. Younger than her by two years, Justin was no longer just her little brother. He was a man who obviously had his own plans and designs that he was keeping entirely to himself. Very un-Carey-like. Although, she told herself, she’d kept the hall and her plans for it a secret. Or so she’d thought.

She still wanted to know how Henry had found out about it in time to steal it from her.

But today’s problem was Justin and the frustration in his eyes.

“Can you at least tell me?” she asked.

Looking down at her, he gave her a wry smile. “Of course I could tell you,” he said. “but I’m not going to.”

“Well, why the hell not?” So much for finessing, Amanda.

He laughed, leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Because I’d rather do it all at once. If I can’t tell everyone yet, then I’ll just hold on to it for a while longer.”

She slapped his chest with the back of her hand and he pretended to be hurt. “That’s not fair. First you tell me there’s something to know and then you say you’re not telling me what it is. Why did you come here today again? Just to torture me?”

“Would I do that?” He grinned at her. “Just thought I’d come see my favorite sister.”

Scowling a bit, she muttered, “I’m going to tell Serena you said that.”

“I’ll call you a liar,” he said on a laugh, then pulled her in for a quick hug. “Now, put your shoes on and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Amanda sighed, slipped her shoes on and poked one finger at her brother. “Okay, but for this, it’s going to be a very expensive lunch.”

“I expected no less.” They walked out together, Justin’s arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist. Whatever reason had brought him back to Carey country, Amanda was glad to have him.

If nothing else, he’d almost managed to take her mind off Henry.