Page 6 of The Rented Bride

Chapter Three

Trent ducked into the rear stairs and climbed to the third floor to Brettonwood’s private wing, and strode down the hallway to his grandfather’s room. Carefully, he opened the door and slipped inside. The heavy curtains had been drawn back. Sheer curtains filtered the bright sunlight.

Instead of sleeping as Trent had expected, his grandfather lay in bed reading. Annie, his private nurse, sat facing a small television in the corner, the sound low. Trent didn’t need to ask what she was watching. Two thirty. Her favorite soap.

James Weston looked up from the book. Despite his illness, his grandfather’s blue eyes remained lucid and intelligent. In the two months since he’d been diagnosed with stage IV heart failure, he’d spent more and more time in bed, but Trent couldn’t accept that the vigorous man who’d raised him since his parents’ death when he was four was the weak man who now spent most of his time resting.

“People just get old,” his grandfather had told him, but even now, his shoulders were as straight as they’d always been. His dark hair had long ago turned gray, but like all the men in their family, the gray only added to the Weston charm.

Tomorrow night, they would celebrate his seventy-fourth birthday. Young by twenty-first century standards. When he’d been diagnosed with heart failure, a piece of Trent died along with the dream of his own son going on a world cruise with his great-grandfather just as Trent had done with his grandfather when he was seventeen. His chest tightened. He’d spent too much time in the boardroom and not enough time in the bedroom.

His grandfather glanced at the clock. “It’s only 2:30. I don’t usually see you this early.”

Even after fifty years living in the U.S., a hint of his grandfather’s Highland brogue slipped through. You sounded like yeou.

Trent crossed to the wing-backed chair near the window and carried it to the bedside. He sat down and stretched out his legs. “The house is abuzz with preparations for the party. My head isn’t in the game today.”

Truthfully, he was nervous as hell. Tomorrow, he would introduce his grandfather to Lindsey. Trent and Lindsey had managed to keep their relationship out of the media for eight months. After the party, that would change, but not because of his wealth or status. Few people actually knew the identities of the world’s billionaires. They could, however, name the top movie stars, along with their birthdates, astrological signs, and even what they liked to eat. Actress Lindsey Fremont was tabloid gold.

Trent would have a bit of hell to pay, and probably a case of tequila, for not giving his best friend, Tomas Fierros, the scoop on his relationship with Lindsey. Along with owning Broken Leg media, Tomas slummed it by as the owner of After Hours, a Hollywood rag.

The paparazzi had nearly caught he and Lindsey on film a month ago when they’d met in the Caribbean after she slipped away from the film she was working on in Miami.

Trent fully expected to return home to discover his grandfather had seen the picture and had already called Lindsey to set a wedding date. Instead, he’d arrived home to find a home nurse attending to his grandfather.

Now, Trent regretted the childish impulse that had prompted him to hide his relationship with Lindsey from his grandfather. Maybe he hadn’t been ready for marriage, but time had run out. He knew himself well enough to know that he might never truly feel ready. So why was he dragging his feet? Cold feet wasn’t the problem. Lindsey was everything he wanted in a life partner. Of course, she was beautiful. But she was sweet and sexy. They enjoyed the same leisure time activities. He had to admit, he found her success a turn on. She was driven, yet she had made it clear that love and family would always come first. She was ready for both. And wasn’t he?

He met his grandfather’s gaze. He had to be ready. As it was, he’d be lucky if his grandfather lived long enough to attend the wedding, much less see the birth of their first child. Just thinking the words wife and family sent a shiver of uncertainty down his spine. He didn’t like unknown scenarios. This was something he couldn’t plan, couldn’t control. He released a breath and crossed ankle over ankle. Always a first for everything.

“I thought you’d thrown away those old tennis shoes,” his grandfather said.

Trent glanced at the shoes. “They fit me better than the shoes I wear in the office.”

His grandfather’s intense gaze bore into him. “You look like a man with something on his mind.”

“I’m tired. Looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be a big night,” Trent said.

“I get to meet your sweetheart. You sure you don’t want to give me a hint who she is?”

Trent laughed. “You’ll meet her at the party. Don’t worry, Granddad, you’re going to love her.”

“You’ve been damned close-mouthed about her identity. She’s got to be someone important.”

“She is,” he replied. “She’s the woman I’m going to marry.”

His grandfather nodded. “Yeah, that makes her pretty damned special. So, who is she?”

“No way, we both know you can’t keep a secret.”

“You wouldn’t be running one of the most successful companies in the world if I didn’t know how to keep a secret.”

Trent angled his head. “True. In business, you’re the soul of discretion. But we both know that in a case like this you’d start with Meg and work your way through the staff until everyone knew. No way.” He shook his head. “Unless you think the anticipation is too much for your heart.” He regarded his grandfather. “Are you sure you’re up to this party? We can have our own private get together here while the rest of the guests do their thing downstairs.”

His grandfather shook his head. “You’re not getting out of this one.”

“Granddad—”

“Lad, I stand when a lady enters the room, and so long as I can get out of this bed, I will continue to do so. I plan to be downstairs when you introduce me to your future wife. Not to mention, I want to make the first toast when you announce your engagement.” He regarded Trent. “You really sure she’s the one?”