My Secret Fantasies

At least she’d taken the driver with her. Bill had texted a few minutes ago to say they were on the way to Joelle’s hotel, the Sea Wind.

“I had no choice in that one, brother.” Damien scraped a hand through his hair, wondering where Miranda would go in the morning. “She just plowed into my life and made herself...indispensable.”

At least Joelle would be with her in case Barrow showed up. Damien was glad he’d gotten the SUV fixed and the broken lock taken care of today.

“I know a thing or two about indispensable women.” On the other end of the video call, Trey sat on the patio of his fiancée’s Mar Vista house, the turquoise pool glowing with pink floating candles behind him.

It was a change from the stark existence he’d led up until he met Courtney Masterson, his soon-to-be wife, but he seemed happier and more at peace these days. Then again, he’d need to be at peace to go back into business with their father. Damien had no idea how they’d mended that broken fence, but more power to them for figuring it out.

“So you understand that I can’t just...let her go, to face this idiot ex-boyfriend of hers who is looking for her.” Damien double-checked his most recent text to a friend in the local cop shop. After talking to the police tonight about the slew of camera-wielding trespassers, he’d given his buddy on the force a heads-up about the possibility of Rick Barrow being in the area.

Didn’t matter that the guy had never threatened her. The truth was, Miranda didn’t want to be anywhere near him, so Damien would do everything in his power to make sure she stayed safe. If he couldn’t have her at his side, he would do whatever he could from afar.

“I’ve got a great security company. They can have a team up there—” Trey checked his watch, a fancy-ass Breitling that was the kind of thing Damien never wore anymore except to meet with possible Thoroughbred buyers “ —just before dawn. In fact, I’ll shoot my guy a note right now.”

Trey was already at work on his cell phone.

“Whatever it costs.” Damien wouldn’t let photographers or Nina’s smarmy ex-husband within fifty feet of Miranda.

“This one is on Pops, Damien.” Trey grinned over the video feed. “The old man needs concrete ways to make it up to us for all the ways he screwed us over as kids.”

Damien held up his hands. “Not happening. You know I don’t accept anything from Dad. I’ll take care of the bill.”

“Do what you like, but I’m telling you, Dad has changed. He has a tough time getting past the ego to smooth things over with other people, but he wants to make things right with his sons. It’s been...” Trey nodded thoughtfully for a moment, looking off into the distance while that pool water shimmered blue-pink behind him “...eye-opening to understand Dad better. And it’s been even more of a wake-up call to realize he may have given us equal parts of his stubbornness. At least, it was for me.”

Damien couldn’t think through that mess of sticky family politics right now. Not with Miranda gone and potentially facing Rick Barrow alone. What the hell did that guy want from her?

“Let’s wait and see on that one. For now, thanks for the extra security. I can’t stand the idea of those vultures near her or near this place.”

“Done. The bigger question is this—why haven’t you gone after her yet?”

Damien pounded his fist on the granite in slow, rhythmic thunks, willing the right answer to come into his head. His eyes went to the refrigerator, where he knew the quiches she’d made were still stacked. He felt like a sap for wanting to open the appliance and stare at a bunch of tinfoil.

“I want to.” It was killing him not to get in the truck and meet her at that hotel himself. “But I already told her I wanted her to stay. What can I say this time that’s any different?”

“You can’t think of anything you’d say differently? Any way you missed the point or didn’t give her what she needed?” Trey leaned forward on the wide, cushioned pool lounger, staring into the webcam intently. “I’m telling you, dude, we were not raised with the kind of emotional sensitivity you might need in this situation.”

“A week ago, I would have laughed my ass off at you for using phrases like ‘emotional sensitivity.’” Damien wasn’t laughing now. In fact, he prayed hard Trey had the answers he lacked. “But right now, I’m inclined to agree. I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t know how to get her back.”

“And that’s what you want?”

More than any damn thing in the world. His chest ached as if someone had taken a baseball bat to it.