“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?”
“Never. Not with Mia, not with anyone.”
“Not with Jennifer?”
Anthony jerked his head back. “Heavens, no. Why would you ask that?”
He was telling the truth. The stunned reaction, the shock in his tone told Bronson all he needed to know. Jennifer had played him.
“No reason.”
No way did Anthony need to know what Bronson’s ex-fiancée had accused him of. Which meant either she’d slept with someone else … or that baby had been his.
Dammit, why did his life keep circling back to lies and confusion, hurt and betrayal?
“I know there’s no love lost between us,” Anthony said, resting a hip on the edge of the sofa. “But whatever happens with Mia, be careful with her. She tries to be tough, but she’s not. She has a tender heart and she truly has no one she can rely on.”
Bronson ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t talk about Mia’s heart with you, Anthony.”
“Fine, but know that she means a lot to me.”
Bronson swallowed and nodded. She meant a lot to him, too. Damn if he wasn’t in the same scandalous situation he’d