The Playboy (Chandler Brothers 2)

His hard footsteps pounded down the long flight of stairs to the finished basement, a room that had served as a playroom when the boys were young, and a large TV room as time went on.

He crossed the room and stopped in front of the couch. “Hi there.”

She let her gaze travel over her son. Marriage definitely agreed with him, she thought, pleased. “Hello, Roman. Where’s your lovely bride?”

His blue eyes sparkled at the mention of his wife. “She’s having breakfast with Kendall.”

“And you came to see your mother.” She clapped her hands together. “You’re such a good son.”

“Why would you walk down the steps just so you could lie down in the basement? There’s a perfectly good television in the den on the main floor of the house,” he said, ignoring her compliment. “It can’t be good for your heart to go up and down the steps for no good reason.”

“Well . . .” She hadn’t anticipated or thought through an answer to that particular question. Her sons believed she’d been told to take it easy. They believed she walked the stairs from her bedroom to the main level with the kitchen just once a day. The basement should be off-limits for someone with a weak heart.

He reached out a hand to her forehead, his own brow crinkling with what she thought was concern, but his next words canceled out that emotion.

“You’re flushed and out of breath. I wonder why that is?” Roman lowered himself to the couch until he shared a cushion with her. “You’re also sweating like you’ve run a marathon, Mom.”

His journalistic instincts had obviously found something amiss and kicked in. Darn her youngest for being so perceptive.

“I’m perspiring, women don’t sweat,” she shot back, then caught herself and realized she’d agreed with his assessment. Not a good idea when she couldn’t afford to condemn herself in any way. She needed to get herself out of this predicament.

Then when she and her boys were together in one room, she had to confess. She couldn’t keep this up. It wasn’t good for her heart, she thought wryly. “Nonsense, Roman. I’m not sweating, I’m just warm under this blanket, that’s all.”

“I’d be warm too if I’d been running on the treadmill, then dove off and covered myself with a wool blanket so I wouldn’t get caught.” His lips turned upward in a semigrin.

She didn’t care if he seemed amused, she didn’t like his accusation and her heart picked up rhythm. “Caught doing what?”

“Cornered and you still won’t give up on your own.” He patted her hand. “Okay, I’ll spell it out for you. You’ve been faking your heart condition so you can manipulate Chase, Rick, and myself to do your bidding and get you grandchildren. All you need to do now is admit I’m right.”

She sucked in a startled breath. Not that she thought she was such a master manipulator—though she believed she’d done a darn good acting job so far. But she’d obviously been too overconfident. She’d never once considered that her sons might catch on.

“I’ll take it your silence means yes? I’m right?” He squeezed her hand lightly.

Raina sighed. “Yes,” she admitted, unable to meet his gaze. “How did you figure it out?”

He rolled his eyes as if the answer were obvious. “I’m a journalist. I know how to spot signs most people would ignore. Add to that I lived with you a few months back, when this supposed condition started. Tea, Maalox, and prescription antacids—a sure sign of indigestion. Plus you hit the stairs like a sprinter when you thought I wasn’t around. It wasn’t hard to put things together. Especially once I found your exercise clothes in the washing machine.”

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “You don’t sound angry.” Although his eyes, his father’s eyes, condemned her.

“Let’s just say I’ve had a while to get used to the truth.”

“But you haven’t told your brothers.” He couldn’t have since they were still tiptoeing around her like she might break at any second, whispering in concern when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.

“Not yet.”

She heard the definitive tone of that word yet and knew her charade days were numbered. “Why haven’t you filled them in?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Stupidity?”

She covered his arm with her palm. “You have to understand my reasons—and know I’m sorry I went to such extremes.”

“You didn’t feel bad enough to have come clean on your own. Dammit, Mom.” He shook his head, his frustration and anger finally coming through. “And the hell of it is I know you’d do it again if you had to, right? For some reason you just can’t let us live our own lives.”

A lump rose to her throat, the guilt she’d been suffering from for so long overcoming any justification she might have offered. “If you’re so angry, why haven’t you told Rick and Chase? Tell them and be done with it already.”