Page 22 of Stranded with the SEAL

Acero smirked. “Semantics.”

“You are nothing but a common thief!”

The intercom in the middle of the conference table beeped. “Bella Grayson’s on the phone, sir.”

His lips tightened into a firm line.

“You can put it through, Helen. Mr. Alvarez and I are finished.” He waited while the older man left the room, then stared at the phone, wondering what Bella could want. If there were a way to find out without speaking to the bitch, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Once he and Brooke were married, he planned to push Bella out of his wife’s life completely. His eyes went to a high shelf, three gold statuettes glittering back at him. For now, he would put on a show worthy of Brooke’s Emmy Awards. He pressed the button on the phone.

“Hello, Bella! Did you see your sister’s fine performance on Saturday Night Live this weekend?”

“I caught part of it.”

“The ratings are through the roof. Everyone tuned in to find out who Brooke Barrons will be marrying.”

“Let me guess. She didn’t tell them.”

“You keep the public’s interest by withholding the information they want.”

“Riiighht. Listen, Olivia was supposed to pick me up at the airport in Denver yesterday, but she didn’t come. I keep calling her, but I just get her voice mail.”

Denver?He narrowed his eyes. “So call Gallant.”

“I did. He said she sent him home Saturday night after the show. Told him his services weren’t required.”

He swore colorfully in Spanish. “She said she wouldn’t do that again.”

And Gallant should fucking know better, but that’s another conversation.

“But my sister doesn’t belong to you, and she doesn’t always want your goons following her around.”

“My employees keep her safe.”

“Your employees smother her independence.”

He looked at the golden clock on his desk. “Why did you wait so long to contact me?”

“Because I don’t like you, and if she took some time off to reconsider becoming your wife, then that seemed like a good thing. But now I’m worried.”

“So it’s me you turn to, because you know I will find her. You say I don’t care for her, but I am the only one taking care of her.”

“Bullshit…”

Marco hung up the phone and brought his finger to his mouth, biting down hard on the nail. He’d given Brooke everything she ever wanted and then some. He’d facilitated her fame and hired the staff who created the incomparable Brooke Barrons out of a tomboy named Olivia Grayson, who wore dirty sneakers and cut-off jeans.

That was the easy part. Making her fall in love with him had been more of a challenge. But Brooke had a weakness, an insecurity he had twisted to his advantage.

The woman hated to be alone.

He’d simply taken away the people she loved, and she had come running to him like a hungry puppy.

She was his now.

Bella hadn’t taken care of her sister! If she had, Brooke never would have agreed to marry him. He stopped biting his nails and dialed the phone. He had too much invested in Brooke to loose her now.

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