Chapter Twenty-three

Gwen awoke on Sunday morning in Carter’s bed. He was sleeping, his golden hair mussed and soft against his pillow. If it was possible, he was more beautiful than ever. Like an angel. But he was real. And he was naked.

Memories from the night before flooded back, filling her with warmth. He was so tender and loving, holding her throughout the night. She never wanted to leave his arms. Not ever. But nature called so she needed to get up. After slipping out from under the covers, she tiptoed across the thick carpet. She scooped up his tuxedo shirt and put it on, then found her discarded green satin panties. As comfortable as she’d been in the dark, she wasn’t exactly up to walking around his place bare and pregnant. She found the master bathroom just off the bedroom. When she was finished, she located a tube of toothpaste and squeezed it out on her finger, then scrubbed her teeth the best she could. The last thing she wanted was to encounter Carter with morning breath. Though she did hope to encounter him again this morning. Maybe even twice.

Glancing in the mirror, she giggled at the crumpled mess that was her hair. She’d been perfectly coiffed last night, but obviously in Carter’s exuberance, he’d pulled much of it loose, leaving only half still up. Carefully, she removed all the pins, dropping a few occasionally due to her pregnancy-induce fumbling, then molded her still hair-spray laden mane into shape. To her surprise it looked good, big and kind of like a Sixties bouffant, and definitely sexy. Exactly how she wanted to greet Carter when he woke up.

Shutting off the light, she left the bathroom and though she intended to creep back into bed, her stomach gurgled. The baby was hungry. Maybe if she went exploring she could find something to make them both for breakfast. Plus, since she’d never been in the east wing before, she wanted to sneak a peek.

Gwen left the bedroom and eased down the hall past a guest bedroom, and encountered a room with a nearly shut door. She caught a whiff of oil paint. Was it a studio? Pushing open the door, she gasped. A large canvas hung on an easel, an exact replica of the Potomac River painted on it. Next to it were several miniature studies on the canvas boards she’d given him, taken from different points of view, at different times of day with varying degree of light. Her heart swelled. Carter was truly gifted. He had to paint. To do otherwise was tantamount to a sin.

Slipping out of his studio, she padded down the hall, looking for the kitchen. On her way, she passed another room and peeked, being nosy. It was an office. Normally, she would have kept going, but a large green accordion folder marked Walk It Patent Application in giant, bold italics caught her eye. Glancing toward his room, she didn’t hear a sound. Should she pop in and have a look? She’d never seen a patent application before and wondered what it looked like, especially since her name would be listed alongside Carter’s. Giddy, her pulse quickened, eager to see their names next to each other, tangible proof of their new partnership.

Sure he wouldn’t mind his partner having a look at the paperwork, she reached for the thick folder, but a second one beside it caught her eye. It was marked, Proxy Agreement for Anderson Baby Corporate Shares.

Cocking her head, she flipped open the cover and scanned the pages inside. Pulse charging, she worked to understand their meaning, but it was like trying to translate a foreign language.

A few things made sense. Her name. A mention of her child, referred to as “the unborn Anderson heir.” Something about corporate shares and giving Carter sole control of her baby’s voting rights in Work It Gear’s corporate dealings until the child came of age.

Then, something caught her eye. There at the bottom of the last page was Carter’s signature dated more than two months before, right next to a blank space for her own name.

Months? Evidently he’d been planning this for a long time.

Just then, she heard Carter clear his throat. “I see you found the proxy agreement.”

She startled, then whipped around to see him in the doorway, wearing nothing but a faded pair of jeans. Ignoring the glorious angelic body before her, she asked, “What is this?”

He padded across the carpet in his bare feet, stopping across the desk from her. “Work It Gear is a family business.”

She nodded. “I know that. But that doesn’t explain this document.” She lifted the signature sheet from the folder.

“My father structured the corporation to ensure that only family members could run it. The baby…complicates things.”

Anger spiked in her gut. Her baby wasn’t a complication. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What does she have to do with Work It Gear? She’s not even born yet.”

“But she will be soon and then she’ll inherit a third of the company. As her guardian, you’ll control her shares until she turns twenty-one. I’m sure you can understand that’s simply unacceptable. That’s why I need you to sign over her voting rights. So I can continue to run the company unimpeded.”

Though she understood his sentiment, his cold, dispassionate words stung. Who was this man before her? Surely not the warm, tender person she’d spent the night loving. She shook her head. “I don’t want anything to do with the company.”

Carter’s brow hitched. “Are you sure? There are billions of dollars at stake, not to mention global corporate power. That can be pretty hard to walk away from.”

Gwen’s knees buckled. After all they’d been through, was that—still—what he thought of her? Were his twisted suspicions so deeply ingrained he couldn’t glimpse the real her?

Her hands went numb. She dropped the page on the desk and shrunk back a step. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never wanted any part of your family’s wealth and that includes a company I know nothing about.”

His eyes softened. “Hey, this isn’t personal. It’s business.” Carter’s voice was suddenly gentle, as if he could switch gears between work and pleasure, and he expected her to do the same.

The hell she could. She wasn’t a hard-hearted capitalist who went for the throat and thrilled at the kill. She was upfront and honest, loyal and steadfast. Things he apparently wasn’t.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “If anything, I’m relieved you found it. Now that it’s out in the open, we can get back to the personal stuff. It’s so much more pleasurable.” Smiling, he reached for her.

She wrapped her arms around her burgeoning midsection. Her eyes fixed on the empty signature line. “Why didn’t you ask me to sign this months ago?” Her voice quivered with anger.

“I didn’t think you would. At least not at first. But then I spent time with you, getting to know you, and hoped you’d come to understand how important the future of Work It Gear is to me.”

“But you never asked. After all this time, you never once brought up the subject.”

“I wanted to, but the timing was never quite right. I wanted to wait until I knew for sure you’d be receptive.”

Her stomach twisted as a chill zipped up her spine. So is that what the gala and last night were about? Making sure she’d be receptive? Clearly, with the folder on his desk, ready to go, it had to be on his agenda.

Rage flowed through her veins. And the fact that she’d cared for him made it so much more appalling. She’d allowed herself to be taken in, duped by Carter’s charisma and gorgeous looks. Well, no more.

Gwen swallowed the bile that crept up her throat. “You needn’t have gone to all the effort. I would have been receptive,” the word came out with a hiss, “without all the wining and dining. And you certainly didn’t have to lower yourself to bed me last night.”

Carter’s brow creased. “Gwen, honey, you don’t understand—”

The term of endearment stung like salt in a gash. “Oh, I understand all too well, believe me. Funny, if you’d taken just one second to actually believe my words, you could have saved yourself the sacrifice. I know it’s hard to believe, but not everyone cares about money. There are more important things in life.”

His face turned to stone. “I wish that were true. I just haven’t seen it very often.”

“Really? Well, guess what. Today’s your lucky day.” Gwen stepped toward the desk and snatched a pen from the holder. Grabbing the signature page from the top of the folder, she scrawled her name across the line and jotted the date.

“Here, partner, I hope this makes you feel better.” She thrust it at him. “You have your votes and sole control of your precious company.”

“But we are partners.” Carter neatly tucked her signature page into the proxy folder then shuffled through the other papers on his desk until he found the patent application. “I promised to name you as the Walk It co-inventor and split the royalties. All I need is your signature to make it official.” He pulled out a copy and handed it to her.

Gwen’s vision flashed crimson. “I wouldn’t take a dime from Work It Gear, not for anything in the world. Least of all to assuage your guilt.” Snatching the pages from his grasp, she railed, “This is what I think of your fifty percent.” She tore the sheets in half, then half again letting the fragments flutter to the desk.

He grunted. “Don’t be unreasonable. That’s an exceptionally generous offer.”

She scoffed. “Coming from a billionaire, I suppose I should be impressed.”

He mashed his lips. “Fine. Sixty percent but not a point more. But only because I’m sorry for waiting so long to ask about the proxy shares. It’s a good deal, Gwen. One that won’t be offered again. I advise you to take it.”

She laughed. “There’s not enough money in the world to buy me.” She stormed toward the door.

“So the truth finally emerges,” Carter sneered, drawing her up short. “I guess you won’t be happy until you get it all, one hundred percent of everything I have. The irony is I was hoping to take things to the next level with you, but you had to pull this shit.” His lips curled with disgust. “I’ve got to hand it to you. That sweet and generous act of yours almost had me fooled. But I guess that’s the only way foster kids manage to survive.”

Gwen spun around, her limbs thrumming with fury. “What did you just say?”

He shrugged. “No matter what you have, you never quite feel secure, do you? You always want more and manipulation is the only way to get it. Free rent wasn’t enough, you got my mother to buy you enough baby supplies to start up your own black market. Nice touch, by the way. I’ve gotta give you kudos on that. You play a great damsel in distress. Let me guess. I bet you’re planning to sell all that stuff on Ebay, aren’t you?”

He might as well have sliced her with a sword. Determined not to let him see how deeply his words had cut, she backed away, repulsed by his twisted words. “You’re deluded.” Nausea churned her stomach. She could tell him just how wrong he was, about everything, but there wasn’t any point. Based on the withheld proxy papers, his sickening accusations, and revolting words, he wasn’t worth her time or energy. There was one thing, however that was worth saying. “You’re an asshole.”