[Kate's Boys 02] - The Bride With No Name Read online

  The name meant nothing to her. And neither did the man saying it. He meant nothing to her, but he was the cause of the uneasy, eerie feeling that filled her. It wasn’t fear, it was dread. She couldn’t tell if it was there because of her reluctance to give up the happiness she’d found for herself, or if something else was at the root of it. All she knew was that it made her exceedingly uncomfortable.

  “We have to leave,” Baylor insisted, repeating the sentence through clenched teeth.

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” Trevor said firmly, physically blocking access to the front door. “She’s staying here.”

  Again Kate stepped in. She knew what Trevor had to be going through, but this wasn’t about him. It was about Venus. “She needs to go back, Trevor. To be in familiar surroundings. Maybe that’ll trigger her memory.”

  Trevor wanted to protest, to say the hell with it all and just grab Venus and run, but in his heart, he knew his stepmother was right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Doing his best to steel himself, Trevor watched the woman he’d been calling Venus, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The woman he might not be able to spend the rest of his life with, now that her past had found her.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked her. It was, after all, her call, not his.

  Venus took a breath, stalling. Two months ago, she knew what her answer would have been. She would have wanted to go with this man sitting in the Marlowes’ living room, go with him to find out the truth and discover who she was. Half an hour ago, her answer would have been the opposite. She would have wanted to remain comfortably cocooned in her new world. A world where she felt protected, loved.

  Safe.

  Emotionally, she still didn’t want to go. But intellectually, she knew she had to. If only to walk away from it in the end.

  Squaring her shoulders, she gazed up at Trevor. The only man she’d ever loved, as far as she was concerned. The other world, in which she was engaged to this man who’d come to claim her, really didn’t exist for her. When she looked at him, nothing came to mind. Baylor Evans was a stranger to her. Maybe he always would be.

  But there were loose ends that needed tying and doors that needed closing. Besides, she had an uneasy feeling that not knowing would somehow come back to haunt her.

  So she tried to sound as positive as possible when she told Trevor, “I want to find out who I am.” To underscore their bond, she squeezed his hand.

  Baylor took hold of her other hand, staking his claim. “You’re Gemma King Burnett, soon to be Evans,” Baylor told her impatiently. “Now can we go?”

  She turned to the man who had thrown her life on its ear. Very firmly, she withdrew her hand from his. “I want to find out who I am,” she repeated, emphasizing her own positive role in the search. “Your calling me by a different name doesn’t do it. I have to see where I lived, who I interacted with, touch the things I owned—”

  Baylor sighed. It was obvious that patience was not among his more highly prized virtues. “Well, can’t do that here now, can you?”

  Venus slanted a glance full of regret toward Trevor before answering. “No, I can’t.”

  Her expression slashed deep into his soul. The soul he has just begun to share. The soul that was now so vulnerable.

  He couldn’t just let her walk away like this.

  It took everything he had not to grab her hand and run, like a scene out of an old movie. Stepping in front of her before she could make a move, he asked, “Where can I reach you?”

  She had no address to give him, no phone number to rattle off. That part was still very much a blank to her. Venus was forced to look toward the man on her right for answers.

  Baylor seemed relieved and smug that he was in a position to break any ties Gemma had with this other man. “We’ll get in contact with you once her memory comes back and she settles in.”

  In other words, Trevor thought, never. He couldn’t just lose her now that he’d found a woman he could love the way his father loved Kate. He took his appeal to Venus. “Venus?”

  “I’ll call,” she promised, even as Baylor hooked his arm through hers and led her away.

  The detective who’d brought Baylor was on his feet, as well. It was obvious the man felt somewhat ill at ease about the way things were turning out. “Thanks for all your help.” The words were addressed to the senior Marlowes. The man avoided eye contact with Trevor as he left.

  Trevor turned to go, ready to follow Venus and Evans out the door, ready to mount some kind of a last-ditch protest to keep Venus from going anywhere with a man she didn’t know. A man who, after all, might not be who he said he was.

  But Bryan caught him by the arm, stopping him. His voice was the soul of compassion as he said, “Let her go, Trevor. She has to do this.”

  The agony Trevor experienced was evident in his eyes as he looked at his father. “I don’t want to let her go, Dad.”

  Kate interceded, slipping in between her son and her husband. Her heart ached over what Trevor was going through.

  “You have to, Trevor,” she told him softly. “You have to let her go so she can come back.”

  He thought of his mother. Of promises made and broken. “What if she doesn’t come back?”

  It took everything she had within her for Kate to say, “Then she wasn’t the woman you thought she was and she doesn’t belong with you.”

  Trevor pressed his lips together, staving off an overflow of emotion. All very nice, neatly worded sentiments, he thought, looking at Kate. But all the words in the world didn’t alleviate the kick-in-the-gut feeling he struggled with. Didn’t quell the panic that rose inside him.

  His temper raged, but there was no use venting. It wouldn’t change anything. He heard the car pulling away outside. Venting wouldn’t make her come back, he thought as his heart sank.

  Trevor shoved his hands deep into his pockets, struggling to keep from smashing something. “Well, it looks like I’m going to need a salad girl again,” he muttered.

  Kate never hesitated. “If you’re shorthanded, I can come in,” she offered.

  Trevor noticed the light blue-gray suit she had on. On her days off, Kate favored jeans and crisp blouses or pullovers. This was not one of her days off. “You’ve got work.”

  “I’ve got a son who needs me. That’s far more important. I’ll reschedule my appointments,” she told him, taking out her cell phone.

  Trevor caught her wrist, stopping her from placing the call to her assistant. “No offense, Mom, but it’s not you I need right now.”

  Work, he had to focus on work. The restaurant would be there long after this ache in his gut and heart would be gone. “I’ve got a retirement party coming in at seven. There’s an awful lot I still have to do between now and seven.”

  Kate stopped him as he turned to leave using the back entrance. She cupped his cheek. “Are you all right, Trevor?”

  At this point he was so far from all right, he doubted if he could ever navigate his way back to that state. But why tell her that? It would only upset her and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing any of them could do about it—unless he acted crazy and followed the detective’s car. He could kidnap Venus when she got out at the station. No doubt Baylor’s car was parked there—and it was probably some pricey thing or even a limousine. His vintage Mustang could hardly compare to anything Evans drove.

  His life of economy could hardly compare to Baylor’s life, either, Trevor thought. In the end, if he truly wanted what was best for Venus, or Gemma, he silently corrected himself, then he would want her to stay with this Evans character. Because Baylor Evans could give her anything she wanted.

  Unlike him.

  “Yeah, I’m all right,” he told Kate and tried to force a smile to his lips. He really did appreciate her concern. “Thanks for asking.”

  “You don’t have to thank family, Trevor,” she said. It wasn’t the first time she’d told him that. Family came through
for one another, no matter what. “I’m only a phone call away.” She straightened his collar, lightly brushing her fingertips over it. “Remember that,” she emphasized, looking up into his eyes. Remembering the shy boy he’d once been. Wishing she could take his pain on for him.

  Trevor smiled at her, although it seemed like a sad smile to her. “I’ll remember that. But like I said, I’m going to be busy for the rest of the day.”

  She nodded, accepting his excuse, but not giving up. “Why don’t you come home for dinner afterward?” she suggested.

  Picking up his briefcase, Bryan rolled his eyes. “Kate, he’s around food all day—”

  “Food he’s cooked,” Kate pointed out. “Come over and I’ll cook for you, like old times,” she promised. “Or we can just talk if you don’t want to eat.”

  Trevor knew she meant well, but he still wanted to be alone. “We’ll see,” he answered, walking out.

  That, both his parents knew, was Trevor-speak for “no.”

  Bryan kissed his wife quickly. He was running more than a little late and even senior partners needed to stick by the rules and set a good example. That meant getting to the office on time, or some reasonable facsimile thereof.

  “He’ll be fine,” Bryan told her.

  Kate nodded, wishing it were true. But she knew better.

  “Hey, Trevor, wait up,” Bryan called out to his son once he’d made it across the back-door threshold.

  Impatience danced through Trevor. He really needed and wanted to be alone, to get away from everything before he said something he would regret later.

  “I’m really not feeling very sociable right now, Dad,” he warned.

  Bryan had never been touchy-feely, although life with Kate had made him somewhat more open to that than before. But in his own way, he loved all his sons and his daughter, and wanted them to know he’d be there for them.

  “You’ve got every right to feel that way. I just want you to know that if you need to talk, man-to-man, call me. Anytime. On my private cell,” he added, underscoring his concern.

  Trevor knew that his father kept two cell phones on him at all times, one for business and one in case his wife needed him. He’d taken to carrying it when Kelsey was due to be born so that Kate could reach him in time to get to the hospital. Afterward, when Kelsey was so sick as a little girl, he decided that keeping the extra phone was definitely a good idea.

  “I know a little about what you’re going through,” Bryan added as he opened the driver’s-side door to his vehicle.

  His father was referring to the separation that had come just before his mother—Jill—had died in the airplane crash, Trevor thought.

  “I know you do, Dad. And thanks for the concern, but I really am going to be pretty busy today.”

  “Then tomorrow,” Bryan qualified. “Or late tonight. Anytime,” he said again. With a sigh, he placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You can get through this, Trevor.”

  He was glad his father thought so, Trevor thought darkly as he drove to his restaurant. Because he sure as hell didn’t.

  Somehow, Trevor got through the day. Putting one foot in front of the other and working on automatic pilot, he managed to hold himself together and pull off the retirement party. Several people came up to him afterward to ask about his rates and to hire him for a function.

  Ordinarily, that sort of thing went a long way toward making him happy. He had carefully crafted his reputation, building it up step by step, and the heady accolades he received during the evening certainly added to it. But rather than promoting a sense of triumph and joy, the compliments and promise of future business left him completely numb.

  Remembering to smile, Trevor hardly heard any of the words.

  All he heard was her voice in his head.

  Venus laughing, talking, teasing him. Her voice was louder than anything he heard around him until it drowned everything else out.

  It was slowly, steadily driving him crazy.

  “Hey, boss man,” Emilio called out for the second time, trying to snare his attention, “is Venus going to be in tomorrow?” As he asked the casual question, Emilio stripped off the apron he had wrapped around his middle. Set to toss it aside, he hesitated, then neatly folded it over the back of a chair.

  Although such a stickler for efficiency, for neatness, for logic, Trevor let his emotions rip. The answer came out on a wave of molten lava before he could stop himself. “No,” Trevor barked.

  No excuse had been given for Venus’s conspicuous absence. She was just “out.” Everyone naturally assumed she was under Trevor’s protective wing and asked no questions. Still, there were those who wouldn’t hold their tongues—like Emilio—and had a desire to know the whereabouts of their newest staff member.

  Trevor had made himself deliberately unavailable to Emilio for no other reason than because he didn’t want to answer any questions about Venus’s situation. But now it was unavoidable.

  “Is she sick?” Emilio cajoled.

  Trevor curbed the urge to walk away. “She’s gone,” he snapped.

  “Gone?” His dark eyebrows formed one concerned line. “What do you mean, ‘she’s gone’?”

  “Gone,” Trevor repeated, raising his voice. “As in not here. Gone, as in not coming back.” He gritted his teeth together. Even his teeth ached, he thought. Everything ached, as if he’d been skewered. “Gone as in gone.”

  Emilio shook his head, obviously not happy about the news. “What d’you say to her to get her ticked off at you?”

  He liked Emilio, relied on Emilio, but right now, he just wanted the man out of his face and out of his business. “You’re crossing that line again,” Trevor growled at him.

  “With all due respect, Trevor, the hell with that line of yours. I’m trying to get down to the bottom of something way more important than lines here.” His eyes held Trevor’s. “Why isn’t Venus coming back?”

  Taking hold of his arm, Trevor pulled the smaller man over to a far less populated side of the kitchen. “You want to know? Okay, I’ll tell you.

  “Because some guy,” he continued with more than a little loathing, “in a suit that cost more than that exclusive espresso machine we imported from Italy showed up at my parents’ house and said she was his fiancée.”

  Surprise, concern and then suspicion washed over Emilio’s expressive face. He winced. “Ouch. And you believed him?”

  It wasn’t as if he wanted to, Trevor thought. But he wasn’t about to share that with anyone. The only one he shared thoughts like that with were his brothers—and Venus. “Didn’t see a reason not to.”

  “Did Venus know this guy?”

  That was what made it twice as difficult to deal with. “No.”

  Again Emilio shook his head, this time in disbelief. “Seems to me that when the former love of your life comes walking back into it, there should have been some kind of nudge toward remembering. Is that what happened?” he asked. “Did she show any signs that things were coming back to her?”

  “No,” Trevor rasped. The words all tasted appallingly stale in his mouth and it was enough to make him want to gag. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore and he knew that Emilio could go on for hours on nothing. How much more could he talk when there was an actual topic of dissent?

  Trevor tried to distance himself from what he was saying and found that he couldn’t. “She’s a big girl. She can look out for herself. Besides, she knows where I live. She knows my number. She can get in contact with me if she wants to.”

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the phone in his pocket rang.

  Trevor all but jumped out of his skin.

  His fingers wrapped around the phone and he yanked it out of his pocket, flipping it open with his thumb as he pulled.

  “Hello?”

  There was no one on the other end, just a dial tone. He glanced down at the caller ID screen, but it identified the caller as simply Private.

  A wrong number, he thought, d
isappointment floating through him. He flipped the phone closed so hard, the shell threatened to break.

  Emilio began to tread on eggshells. “Want me to lock up?” he offered.

  Trevor definitely didn’t like the pity he saw in the other man’s dark brown eyes. The last thing he wanted was to be anyone’s object of pity.

  “No. Go home, Emilio,” he ordered.

  “You’ve got my number if you want to talk,” the assistant chef called back as he walked away.

  Why did everyone think he wanted to talk? Trevor thought darkly. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to hit something. Anything.

  To hit someone.

  To hit that sleek, every-hair-in-place buffoon who’d trespassed, uninvited, into his life and taken Venus out of it.

  Taken the sun out of it.

  But he couldn’t hit the man, not without undoubtedly incurring an arrest and, most likely, a lawsuit. The man seemed like the type to indulge in petty lawsuits.

  So, in order to survive, he’d focused on one of the few things he could do: putting the kitchen to bed.

  He did it slowly because he figured it was going to be a long, long night. And he no longer had a place to be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emilio cleared his throat. When Trevor looked at him absently, Emilio nodded toward the large jar that he was holding. “That’s the honey.”

  His mind admittedly in a fog, as it had been these last few days, Trevor blinked, trying to focus. It didn’t work. “What?”

  “In your hand.” Emilio tapped the jar in Trevor’s hand. “You’re holding a jar of honey.” He did his best to treat lightly the situation that had everyone in the kitchen concerned. Nobody wanted to insult the boss. “Have you changed the recipe for the spaghetti sauce without telling me?”

  Trevor glanced down at his hand as if to verify what Emilio had just pointed out. With a sigh, he returned the half-filled jar to the counter, putting it down with a thud. His mind had drifted off. Again. Just the way it had for the last six days. He needed to shake it off. This daze that had him sleepwalking through his life.

  “No, I did not change the recipe,” he answered tersely.

  “That’s good to know because the thought of honey in spaghetti sauce—” Emilio didn’t complete the sentence. The shiver he gave conveyed his thoughts on the matter. And then, because he’d never been one to hold his tongue for long, Emilio asked, “How long are you going to let this go on?”