Chapter 1 #2
"I would rather hear what you have to say and be done with it," Craig told him stiffly. "I have no intention of spending an extra minute in this fortress."
Cecil stared at him with raised brows.
"Your rooms have been prepared. You're staying here."
"Absolutely not! You may have carted me here against my will, but you cannot force me to stay. I'll just stay at one of the apartments-"
"I see you've inherited more than my looks. The stubborn pride as well. Your daddy would have done well with even a little of it."
Craig's eyes blazed. "You dare speak of my father in that tone?"
"I speak of my son as I please. He was weak and malleable, much to my disappointment. You, on the other hand, are too much like me."
Craig felt the rage erupting and had to tamp it down.
"He was a good man, honest and human. If that's what you call weak, you don't know a damn thing."
"Craig-"
Cecil lifted an imperious hand to stop the lawyer. "I did not bring you here to start an argument."
"Then you should have let me be."
Cecil nodded. "You're the only remaining family I have left, and very soon, I will be no more."
He glanced at his lawyer. "Give us a minute."
The man gathered up his briefcase and, giving Craig a warning look, left the room, closing the door behind him.
"I'm surprised you didn't make him stay."
"William is a damn good lawyer, but he's not family." Cecil shrugged.
"Besides, what I have to say to you, he already knows." Cecil stared at him levelly.
"I'm dying. The doctors gave me two months to live."
Craig felt a twinge and told himself it was not regret. He felt nothing for this man.
"I see that's breaking your heart." Cecil's tone was dry.
"We all have to die sometime."
"You're right. But it so happens that I have complete control of the assets, everything, including your trust fund."
"I have some money-"
"From your mother, yes, I know. A few million dollars."
Cecil smiled grimly. "Which is certainly not enough to fund the project you're interested in."
It took some doing, but Craig managed to wipe his expression clean. "What project?"
His grandfather smiled at that. "Your poker face is excellent."
Picking up a paperweight, he balanced it in his palm, his eyes unwavering. "You see, I've been keeping tabs on you."
"Why am I not surprised?" Craig asked caustically.
"So?"
"I know what you want to do. What you hope to achieve. You need your inheritance to make it happen."
Giving up, Craig rose jerkily and went to the cabinet to pour himself a finger of scotch. "What do you want?"
"You to take your rightful place at the company and settle down."
Craig went as still as a stone before turning around slowly. "Settle down?"
"Married."
"Not a chance in hell, and you cannot make me. Like you said, I'm the only living family, which means I will inherit everything after you die."
Craig felt the tension squeezing his heart at the smile on the man's lips.
"In another few minutes, I will have William come in with the revised will. But I will lay it down for you. Either you get married before I cock up my toes, or the entire thing goes to one or two of my favorite charities. And I mean everything."
Craig stared at the old man and wondered if it was possible to feel such hatred. Putting the glass down slowly on the antique cherrywood table, he faced the man who persisted in making his life miserable.
"You're bluffing."
Cecil inclined his head slightly.
"Like I said before, in a minute I will have William come back in. He has the documents, the new will and the old one. It will depend on you which one remains."
Craig felt his throat closing off and barely stopped his hands from shaking. He was determined not to show an ounce of weakness.
He wasn't going to show the old man an inch of vulnerability. He would rather die first.
"Why?" he asked hoarsely.
"I want you settled and focused. The company has been in my family for more than a hundred years; I'll be damned if I'll sit by and watch you dismantle it.
There are clauses in the will, one of which is that you and your wife live here.
I don't care who you choose, but that you make a choice, and you have a month to tie the knot. "
"Are we to produce a child as well?" Craig asked caustically.
Cecil spread his arms. "I won't be around to see it."
He gave the young man a quizzical glance. "You're going to thank me for this later on."
"Oh, I strongly doubt that. What if I tell you to piss off with your ultimatum?"
A grim smile touched his mouth.
"You won't. You have plans for the money, big plans, and you won't allow pride or sheer obstinance to interfere."
He pressed a hand to his chest and closed his eyes briefly. For one fleeting second, Craig almost rushed over to him.
Then he opened his eyes and waved a hand.
"Don't look so hopeful. I'm determined to hang on until you find your bride and get married. Ah, here's the refreshment."
Craig managed to choke down the thinly sliced cucumber sandwiches and tiny frosted cakes as well as drink the coffee. The tray had been wheeled in by a maid he did not recognize.
William, of course, joined them and handed him the wordy document that was the new will. Craig did not need to consult a lawyer, because he had a double major in law and finance.
He read the document thoroughly, noting the ironclad clauses. It was there in plain language.
Everything would be his, only if he were married. On the day of the wedding, the entire fortune would be signed over to him.
He had read the document in the privacy of the lofty library while seated on the worn ruby-red sofa overlooking the rose garden. It had been his mother's pride and joy.
She had been happiest while puttering around and making magic with her green thumb. They had loved each other, Craig thought with a pang as nostalgia rose up to overwhelm him.
Despite the ruthless tyranny of his grandfather, his parents' love had flourished.
Craig recalled asking his father why he put up with being ordered around by the man. His father had simply smiled and responded in his calm and reasonable manner.
"Pops is set in his ways. We're very different, and he's not pleased that I'm not as driven as he is. My family tends to come first, and the company comes second. That does not sit well with him."
The grief, which he had believed had dulled over the years, threatened to engulf him. He had no one to turn to, and that much was obvious.
And he was trapped. He could sit here and read the document from cover to cover again, but it was perfectly obvious that he had no choice.
He had even called the doctor with the hope of being told that it was all a ploy to get him to play ball. But the man had been grave in his report.
"He has stage-four prostate cancer and refuses to consider a clinical trial. At the most, he has three months to live."
So that's that. Craig wished he could tell him to go to hell and just turn his back.
But he couldn't and wouldn't. The smart play was to do as he was told and bide his time.
And he knew just who to ask to play along with him. His mouth twisted grimly as he thought about her.
She was the only obvious choice. Anyone else would demand a real marriage, and that was not an option.
He wanted his freedom, to do as he pleased. He would go along with the old man and wait until he surrendered to his illness.
Three months wasn't a long time. He could deal with toeing the line and living in this pile of rocks for three months.
Surging to his feet, he walked over to the glass doors and shoved them open. The scent of roses and daffodils hit him full on, almost staggering him.
He could envision his mother seated at the beautiful wrought-iron table, sipping her lemonade and gazing at what she had created. She would often be seen out in the gardens whenever she had some free time.
"She was a wonderful woman."
The quiet voice behind him made him start. He had been so deep in thought that he had not heard the woman's approach.
"She was." His voice was thick with sorrow, his eyes mirroring his grief.
Forcing a smile, he turned to look at the housekeeper. "She always said you were the first one to welcome her when she came here."
Millicent moved her shoulders slightly and folded her hands at her ample waist. "He tried to make their lives miserable, but didn't quite succeed."
Her eyes lifted to his, a smile touching her lips.
"You've always been strong. Don't allow him to get to you."
"Too late," Craig muttered. "I guess I'll be staying after all."
Millicent's smile beamed even brighter. "I had them clean up the east wing for you."
She moved forward to embrace him.
"I always believe that things have a way of working out. You just have to hang in there."
Craig gave in to the need to feel comforted and returned her embrace before stepping back. "I'll believe that when I see it."