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Fordham made an exasperated sound. “The truth is I have no more idea than anyone else why you do what you do. But thanks for letting me know what you think of me after all these years.”

Bran hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. He groaned in frustration. “You know better. You’re family to me, more than my own father.”

“Then explain it to me. Why’ve you kept Stephanie away from your friends for two years?”

Bran squirmed, not finding a ready answer. Then he remembered. “Liam met her,” he said, his tone triumphant. Liam Bennett ran their Biomedical Engineering Division. Though he wasn’t one of the four partners, he still counted as a friend.

“Indeed he did,” Fordham said. “But only because you needed to go somewhere and you refuse to leave the premises without your overworked PA.”

“When you announced your engagement to Carina Parker, it blew away my longstanding theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you were secretly in love with Stephanie Caldwell.”

Bran’s chest tightened. Though he originally chose Stephanie from fifteen other candidates because he’d discovered her child had cystic fibrosis, his feelings for her now were confusing at best. Yet he knew he was incapable of love, just as he knew no one would ever love him. Women didn’t see him as a man. They saw him as someone to be pitied. And used. His value lay, not in who he was, but what he had. Money.

“You know I picked Stephanie because she needed my help.”

“Because of the medical bills. Yes, I know what you said.”

“And I’ve tried to talk her into moving to the estate, but she won’t do it. I can’t understand why.”

“I imagine your reputation for firing your assistants preceded you. Or perhaps she simply resented your attempts to control every aspect of her life.”

Bran grunted. “I’m not that bad.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Fordham needled. “But only last week, she approached me about the possibility of moving in. She might be changing her mind.”

Hope bloomed in his chest. “Really? She didn’t say anything to me about it. I mentioned it again last night.”

“Last night? Was that before or after your engagement announcement?”

“My engagement has nothing to do with this.”

“Whatever you say, Master Knight.”

Fordham’s voice drizzled even more sarcasm than usual, and Bran decided to change the subject. He hoped he could persuade her to move to the complex. Because I like order in my life. It’s not that I have feelings for her.

“You’re really not going to bring me my socks and shoes, are you?” Without waiting for an answer, Bran padded his way to his closet, the plush carpet making his progress silent. Emerging with his running shoes and a pair of athletic socks, he went back to the bench to put them on.

“How did Carina’s father respond when you announced your engagement?”

“With enthusiasm. I got a pat on the back and a hearty handshake. My fingers are still numb.” He worked to tie his shoe, his nimble fingers having no difficulty with the task.

“Sounds like he’s glad to be rid of her,” Fordham remarked.

“Ha! You may be right.” Carina could certainly be a handful. “I’d call the party a success. After I announced the merger, Kingsley and Johnson pulled me aside to talk about investing. Soon, our resorts will be the largest chain in the world.” Larger than dad’s. He’ll be furious. The thought brought a grin to his face.

“Bully for you. You’ve done an excellent job fitting into the group. You’re more like your father every day.”

Bran knew the last remark was meant as an insult. “I don’t try to fit into the group, as you call them, but I keep them happy and well-fed.”

“Like pets?”

“No. More like livestock.”

“I see.”

“That’s why I need Carina. She speaks their language.”

“You don’t need another goat to take care of your goats. You need a goatherd.”

“Carina’s not like the others. She’s smarter than you think.”

“No doubt that woman is smarter than you think. Mark my words, you will not control her. She will as soon cut your throat as the steak on your plate.”

Bran finished tying his shoes before responding. “Then I better not give her anything sharper than a table knife.”

A creak of the chair indicated Fordham’s rise to his feet, and Bran wasn’t surprised when his voice moved. “Having one’s carotid sawed open with a dull blade hardly sounds more pleasant than a quick slice with a razor.”

Bran reached up and clasped the hand he knew was offered, though he didn’t need help standing. He paused, turning his face square to Fordham’s. “You think she hates me that much?”

“On the contrary, I believe she loves you a great deal… as one loves a trust fund.”

Bran strode into the hallway, snatching his cane where it leaned against the door jamb without breaking stride. “I have my reasons.”

“I don’t trust her.” Fordham kept pace with him.

Are sens

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