“Not when you’re carrying my baby,” he threw back.
Anger fueled Mia. “The baby may have brought us together, but this baby is not the reason I want to be with you or the reason I love you. And you cannot tell me you aren’t in love with me, Bronson.”
“I’m not.”
“Now who’s lying?” she whispered through tears. “You make love to me like I’m the most important thing in your life. You whisk me away to a castle for a week when I know you never take that much time off work. You surprise me with all of my favorite things and you take me shopping for custom-made, Italian furniture. Don’t even deny those are signs of love.”
That gaze bore into her, but Mia held her ground. Her future, their baby’s future, was at stake.
“Leave if you want,” she told him, praying he’d come to his senses. “But know that no one will ever love you as much as I do. No one will ever be as faithful and loyal to you as I will. And know that you are throwing away a family that would’ve made you a lifetime of memories.”
The muscle in Bronson’s jaw ticked as he stared her in the eyes. Tension-filled silence enveloped Mia, but she hadn’t come so far in her own life by backing down from getting what she wanted.
“‘Throwing away’ implies I had something to begin with.” Bronson stepped away from the windows and crossed the wood floor to stand before her. “Yes, we have a baby, but that’s all. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing else between us. There never was, and there never will be.”
He brushed past her, careful to turn his shoulder so he didn’t even come in contact with her. Mia stood stone-still as his shoes clicked on the tile in the foyer. She didn’t even move when he opened the door and closed it.
It wasn’t until the roar of his engine died that she sank back onto the couch. Tears slid down her cheeks, one chasing after the other. But Mia didn’t feel defeated. She hadn’t lost this fight yet, and she certainly didn’t intend to.
Bronson just needed time to think. He needed time to adjust to all that had been thrown at him in one day. Mia couldn’t expect him to deal with her when she had no doubt the relationship with his mother was probably now strained.
Mia’s heart ached for Olivia. Protectively, she slid a hand around her baby. Mia couldn’t fathom giving this baby away, even if it meant a better life for the child. Olivia’s courage forty years ago astounded Mia, and she only hoped Bronson saw how his mother had always put her children’s welfare first.
Because if Bronson didn’t make peace with his mother and Anthony, there was no hope for her and the baby.
For the last hour Bronson had stared at his computer screen. Actually, at the title page of the script he and his mother had worked on, to be exact.
Everything had changed since they began working on writing their own film over a year ago. The script had been very loosely based on his mother’s life in the movie industry. She’d been adamant about keeping her personal life from the script. At first he’d assumed it was simply because she wanted to keep their personal family life to herself.
Now he knew she didn’t want to get into the fact that she’d given up her first child for adoption.
Bronson closed the script and came to his feet. His life had changed dramatically in the last three weeks, and he still hadn’t figured out what steps to take next. Who the hell did he trust? Victoria had certainly taken the news better than he had, but Victoria had always had a heart of gold and gave everyone a chance. One of these days she was going to get her heart broken.
There was nowhere for him to direct his anger. The emotion seemed to shoot out in so many different directions. He wanted to hate his mother for keeping something like this from him, but at the same time he knew she lived her own hell by not being with a child she’d given birth to and then by seeing her two sons turn into rivals in the public eye.
As for his feelings for Anthony, Bronson honestly didn’t know what to feel. Anger crept up from any emotion he battled with lately, but it wasn’t Anthony’s fault. He’d been given up for adoption and just recently discovered his mother was Hollywood’s most beloved star. As much as Bronson hated to admit it, Anthony was a victim of fate, too.
But Mia, the woman who carried his child and claimed to love him, had known for months. In all that time, she’d worked her way into his life with that innocent smile and loving nature. She’d simply glowed whenever talking about the baby.
Bronson ran a hand through his hair, turning to look out the wide window behind his desk. And now he was back to doubting the baby’s paternity. How could he trust her with anything? Did loyalty mean nothing to people anymore? How could he be so naive as to fall for another woman’s lies?
Dammit. How many times had he lectured himself not to get too attached to another child? He’d known going in that Mia’s past working relationship with Anthony made her questionable.
But he’d gone and fallen in love with the child anyway, and he knew, looking back, there was no way around it. The first time he’d seen the baby on the screen, the little heartbeat thump that resounded through the tiny exam room, there was no way anyone could avoid falling in love with that moment, that baby.
Bronson hated this helpless feeling that had plagued him since he’d come back from Italy and discovered the truth. Hated that control had been taken from his life and he’d had no way to stop it.
But he intended to get his life back in order, and the only way he knew to start was to confront each of the key players: his mother, Anthony and Mia.
The war raged within him, but he knew the person he needed to start with was the one who’d had the shock of his life, too.
Bronson didn’t call, didn’t want to think about his plan. He ran down to the kitchen, grabbed the keys to his two-door sports car and headed toward Anthony’s house before he could talk himself out of confronting him.
If Anthony wasn’t home, then Bronson would go to his mother. But right now he was too angry, and he didn’t want to talk to his mother when there was a good chance he’d say something he regretted. As far as offending Anthony, Bronson didn’t care. There was no love lost there to begin with.
In less than twenty minutes Bronson arrived in front of Anthony’s gated home. He pulled next to the guard’s post and rolled down his window.
“Is Mr. Price in?”
The guard’s eyes widened in recognition and he nodded. “Is Mr. Price expecting you, Mr. Dane?”
Bronson shook his head. “No, but if you tell him I’m here, I’m sure he’ll see me.”
The guard disappeared into the small post and within seconds the long, black wrought-iron gate slid open, allowing him access.
Bronson hadn’t even come up with a course of action, but he had a feeling once he was in the same room with Anthony their conversation would take on a life of its own.
The palm-lined drive led Bronson to the light brick, three-story home—a place where Bronson had never envisioned himself.
Anthony stood in the doorway and something clenched in Bronson’s gut as he stepped from his car. This man was his brother. There was no escaping the truth, no matter how much he wanted to. So now he had to deal with this information as best he could and not make this any more uncomfortable for his mother.
Besides, this would eventually leak to the press, and he wanted them all to appear as a united front. No need to make things more difficult on everyone.
“I wondered if you’d be by,” Anthony said as Bronson approached. “Come on in.”
Anthony led him into a formal sitting room just off the open foyer. Two large leather sofas faced each other for an intimate conversation setting, but Bronson hoped he wouldn’t be here long enough to get that cozy. This was already way beyond his comfort zone, but he had to step outside the box if he wanted to get his life back on stable ground.
Anthony motioned to the wet bar in the corner. “Need a drink?”
“No, thanks.”
Bronson took a seat on one of the sofas and leaned forward on his knees. “How did you find out?”
Taking a seat opposite him, Anthony sighed. “I’ve always known I was adopted. My parents were upfront about that from as far back as I can remember. But it wasn’t until about a year and a half ago, when my own parents passed away, that I just wanted to know where I came from. Now that my adoptive parents are gone, it’s just me and my sister. I didn’t want to disrupt a family, but I wanted to know.”
Bronson listened as Anthony poured out his past, his heart. A little bit of that hatred that had built up for years started to ebb. He’d come here ready for war, but seeing Anthony, listening to how much he wanted to find out where he came from, Bronson couldn’t get angry. This was just a man looking for some answers, and the answers happened to weave around Bronson’s life.
“When my investigators came up with Olivia’s name, I made them check again,” Anthony went on. “I mean, I just didn’t believe it. She’d done a very thorough job of keeping things under wraps.”
Bronson’s heart clenched. His mother had secretly watched over her son, and she’d shared that grief, that love, with no one but Bronson’s father. When he died, she’d had no confidant at all.
“So why didn’t you confront her months ago when you discovered the truth?”
Anthony’s gaze faltered before coming back up to meet Bronson’s. “It’s no secret that my personal life is falling apart. My marriage is a disaster, and I was trying to get my feet under me before I approached Olivia. Unfortunately, that’s not happening any time soon. I had to take back control in some part of my life. I wanted one-on-one time with her so we could decide where to go.”
Damn. He hated the burst of jealousy that speared through him. Because of all the people on this earth, his sworn rival turned out to be the brother he never knew he had. And if Bronson were in Anthony’s shoes, he’d be doing the exact same thing. Trying to regain control and determined to find some answers.
“And what did you two decide?”
Anthony shrugged. “Right now we’re taking it one day at a time. Mostly phone calls, though, because we don’t want the press to question why we’re talking. Nobody needs that right now, with my marriage on the rocks, you and Mia expecting a baby.”
Bronson sat straight up. “I wondered how long it would take you to weave Mia into the mix.”
“There’s no weaving her,” Anthony said, eyes narrowing. “She’s in it thanks to you.”
“Me? I’m not the one who sent her to work for my biological mother all the while knowing about this secret.”
Anthony shook his head. “No, you’re the one who got her pregnant and probably broke her heart. Have you already confronted her about the fact that she knew?”
Bronson gritted his teeth. “What Mia and I discuss is none of your concern.”
“She’s too good for you,” Anthony threw back. “I told her that when she told me who she was going to work for. I told her you’d try to sink your playboy claws into her, and I tried to warn her.”
“And what were you warning her for? Because you wanted her for yourself? Because your wife wasn’t enough—you had to get Mia, too?”
Anthony came to his feet. “I’ve never, ever cheated on my wife, and I’m damn sick of being accused of it. I love Mia like a sister, and I know these rumors are killing her, especially now that she’s pregnant.”
Bronson didn’t know what to believe. A few weeks ago he did, but now…did the truth matter anymore? Another supposed “truth” would just come along later and void the previous one.
So what the hell was he supposed to do?
“I know your mind is turning a hundred miles an hour,” Anthony went on. “And I know we’ve never gotten along, but I assure you I never, ever laid a hand on Mia in a personal, intimate way. She was like my assistant, best friend and sister all rolled into one and I hated to see her go. She chose to leave because of the strain the rumors were putting on my marriage. In my opinion, that’s a hell of a woman to put others’ needs first.”
Bronson came to his feet and paced around the room. “It was Mia’s idea to come work for my mother—not yours?”
“Mine?” Anthony laughed. “I begged her to stay. I never wanted to lose her.”
Balls of tension built in Bronson’s neck. He twisted it to the right, to the left, trying to relieve the pressure. God help him, he was starting to believe Anthony. Either he was a fool or he’d finally opened his eyes.
Bronson turned to face Anthony. “You’ve never cheated on your wife?”