head sadly. “And they say romance is dead.”
For once Tomas was in complete agreement with Rafe. Sure, his eldest brother kept a brutal work schedule. Susannah, too, ran her own business. But, still…
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Alex asked.
“Only if you can manage to look slightly happy about it,” Rafe replied at the same time as Tomas said, “You’re only marrying because of the will.”
And in his opinion, that just sucked cane toads. A marriage wasn’t a business transaction. It was about love and partnership and commitment.
Till death us do part.
“Ah, hell.” He didn’t realize he’d been screwing up his napkin until he threw the tightly wadded missile onto the table and rolled the crystal salt shaker. “You don’t have to marry her, Alex.”
“Yes. I do.” Alex folded his napkin in half and half again. Placed it neatly on the table. “That’s the only way I’ll do this.”
“When’s the wedding?” Rafe asked.
“There’s the mandatory thirty-day wait, but as soon as possible. We haven’t decided where.”
“Not at home?” Rafe asked “Mau will want to be there.” By home he meant Kameruka Downs, where they’d all grown up and where Tomas still lived. Their mother, too, in her own place built after his marriage. She rarely left her remote outback home these days. Since intense media scrutiny had led to a breakdown after she’d lost her fourth child to SIDS, she despised the city, crowds, photographers.
“We’re negotiating,” Alex said. “Susannah has family interstate.”
“Not wanting to get personal,” Rafe said carefully. “But does Susannah know she’s expected to, um, produce an heir right off the bat?”
“She knows.” Alex checked his watch, frowned. “I have a meeting to get to, but I wanted you both to know I’ve got this covered.”
Rafe and Tomas exchanged a look.
“You’ve got your part of the deal covered,” Rafe corrected.
“We’ll look after ours,” Tomas added. “One in, all in.” He got to his feet at the same time as his brothers, and offered his hand. “Congratulations, Alex. I hope it works out for you.”
There was a moment, a connection that extended far beyond the firm handshake, the quick slap on the back, even the strong meeting of sky-blue eyes. It was the bond of brothers, the knowledge that a pact made would never be broken. They were all in this together, and, come hell or high water, they would make it work.
Then Alex was striding off between the tables with his trademark sense of purpose. Standing side by side, his brothers watched him out the door before Rafe shook his head. “Do you suppose he proposed by text or e-mail or intercompany memo?”
“Wondered the same thing myself.” Tomas scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not that I don’t like Susannah, it’s just that she’s…Susannah.”
Not Susie, like Angelina was Angie, but always the whole three syllables. Always so formal and cool and dispassionate. So absolutely unlike Angie.
“The whole deal’s too cold-blooded and impersonal,” he said, and he felt Rafe’s gaze switch and focus on his face.
“As cold-blooded and impersonal as artificial conception?”
“That’s different.”
“I won’t dignify that with a response.” Rafe shook his head and indicated the door. “You ready to go?”
Nothing more was said—and that surprised the hell out of Tomas—until they were out in the lobby and about to part ways. “Did you know Ange is working here?” Rafe asked conversationally.
Tomas tensed, then covered quickly by casting a casual glance back at the restaurant. “Waitressing?”
“I meant here as in the Carlisle Grande, in my office.She asked if I had any jobs going last week, flying home from your place, after—”
Rafe made an expansive gesture and Tomas thought, Yeah, after. That about summed it up.
“I gather you’re not even considering her offer?”
No longer casual, Tomas’s gaze cut back to his
For once Tomas was in complete agreement with Rafe. Sure, his eldest brother kept a brutal work schedule. Susannah, too, ran her own business. But, still…
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Alex asked.
“Only if you can manage to look slightly happy about it,” Rafe replied at the same time as Tomas said, “You’re only marrying because of the will.”
And in his opinion, that just sucked cane toads. A marriage wasn’t a business transaction. It was about love and partnership and commitment.
Till death us do part.
“Ah, hell.” He didn’t realize he’d been screwing up his napkin until he threw the tightly wadded missile onto the table and rolled the crystal salt shaker. “You don’t have to marry her, Alex.”
“Yes. I do.” Alex folded his napkin in half and half again. Placed it neatly on the table. “That’s the only way I’ll do this.”
“When’s the wedding?” Rafe asked.
“There’s the mandatory thirty-day wait, but as soon as possible. We haven’t decided where.”
“Not at home?” Rafe asked “Mau will want to be there.” By home he meant Kameruka Downs, where they’d all grown up and where Tomas still lived. Their mother, too, in her own place built after his marriage. She rarely left her remote outback home these days. Since intense media scrutiny had led to a breakdown after she’d lost her fourth child to SIDS, she despised the city, crowds, photographers.
“We’re negotiating,” Alex said. “Susannah has family interstate.”
“Not wanting to get personal,” Rafe said carefully. “But does Susannah know she’s expected to, um, produce an heir right off the bat?”
“She knows.” Alex checked his watch, frowned. “I have a meeting to get to, but I wanted you both to know I’ve got this covered.”
Rafe and Tomas exchanged a look.
“You’ve got your part of the deal covered,” Rafe corrected.
“We’ll look after ours,” Tomas added. “One in, all in.” He got to his feet at the same time as his brothers, and offered his hand. “Congratulations, Alex. I hope it works out for you.”
There was a moment, a connection that extended far beyond the firm handshake, the quick slap on the back, even the strong meeting of sky-blue eyes. It was the bond of brothers, the knowledge that a pact made would never be broken. They were all in this together, and, come hell or high water, they would make it work.
Then Alex was striding off between the tables with his trademark sense of purpose. Standing side by side, his brothers watched him out the door before Rafe shook his head. “Do you suppose he proposed by text or e-mail or intercompany memo?”
“Wondered the same thing myself.” Tomas scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not that I don’t like Susannah, it’s just that she’s…Susannah.”
Not Susie, like Angelina was Angie, but always the whole three syllables. Always so formal and cool and dispassionate. So absolutely unlike Angie.
“The whole deal’s too cold-blooded and impersonal,” he said, and he felt Rafe’s gaze switch and focus on his face.
“As cold-blooded and impersonal as artificial conception?”
“That’s different.”
“I won’t dignify that with a response.” Rafe shook his head and indicated the door. “You ready to go?”
Nothing more was said—and that surprised the hell out of Tomas—until they were out in the lobby and about to part ways. “Did you know Ange is working here?” Rafe asked conversationally.
Tomas tensed, then covered quickly by casting a casual glance back at the restaurant. “Waitressing?”
“I meant here as in the Carlisle Grande, in my office.She asked if I had any jobs going last week, flying home from your place, after—”
Rafe made an expansive gesture and Tomas thought, Yeah, after. That about summed it up.
“I gather you’re not even considering her offer?”
No longer casual, Tomas’s gaze cut back to his
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