His Weekend Wife (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 2) Read online

  RHONDA LEE CARVER

  His Weekend Wife

  2016 Rhonda Lee Carver

  Copyright 2016 Rhonda Lee Carver

  All rights reserved

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without permission from the author, Rhonda Lee Carver—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages written in a review. For information, please contact Rhonda Lee Carver @ [email protected].

  This work is fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue in this work are from the author’s imagination and creation. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, dead or alive, is completely coincidental.

  This book is for your personal pleasure. Ebooks are not transferrable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. If you have enjoyed this book and wish to share with another reader(s) please purchase another copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, purchase a copy. Thank you for appreciating the hard work the author invested into this book.

  This book contains material that isn’t suitable for anyone under the age of 17.

  To read more books by Rhonda Lee Carver check out the list of her books at the end of this book.

  DEDICATION:

  To Love.

  Table of Contents

  Front Matter

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Back Matter

  Bonus – Letting Go (Chapter One)

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Well, well, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening, Lucy?” Declan Knight folded his arms over his chest as he stared back at the glowering face of his aunt.

  “Can’t I just stop in to visit now and again? Must there always be a reason? Since when did the younger generation stop respecting their elders?”

  “Where did you park your broom, auntie?” He smiled.

  “Is that any way to treat family, Declan?” Lucy braced her hand on her wide hip and shook her head in irritation, sending dangling earrings clanking. “You should be happy to see me.” She pressed her hand into the center of his chest and pushed him aside as she stepped inside of his high-rise luxury apartment where he’d lived for the last two years.

  “Yes, do please come in.” He shoved the door closed with his foot. There went his plans of de-stressing after a long day at the office. He’d sat in on what should have been a fifteen-minute meeting that turned into three hours—or rather turned into a migraine. He certainly wasn’t in the mood to listen to Lucy go on and on about the latest social gossip among her friends—term used loosely.

  It wasn’t that he disliked his aunt. She did have her good points, although few and far between. He learned long ago, though, that she prided herself on rubbing people the wrong way, liked how it made her feel powerful. She was keen at business and that he could respect. Since his father, Theobald, died and left her a share of the family business, Knight Corporation—the same company that Declan was now CEO of—the sixty-something woman made it her weekly goal to bust his balls for one bullshit thing or another. She singled him out among his brothers because she ‘favored’ him, but he knew she bestowed her attention on him simply because he was the only family living close enough for her to reach out and touch. He sure wished she’d learn the modern communication of texting.

  They were neck-deep in a lucrative business deal, a million-dollar merger that would change the future of Knight Corp, specifically Knight Sporting Goods, an elite supplier for professional sports leagues. The company had grown by threefold in the last two years, and to see the rest of his plans unfold, he had no choice but to plaster a friendly smile on his face and tolerate Lucy for the time being. Lucky me.

  Declan had often wondered why Theobald Knight had left his sister a part of the company. They never did see eye-to-eye, or so it seemed. She had always given her older brother a hard time about his choices and his so-called mistakes. Maybe he’d felt sorry for her? Could be that Theobald just wanted Lucy to concentrate on something else besides snaring another rich husband. She rotated marriages like they were a business transaction.

  The woman was on her fourth marriage and never seemed happy—never was satisfied no matter how many digits were in the current Mr. Right’s bank account balance. Undeniably, she was a Knight and had the same love for success and shrewd business practices as the rest of them. Yet everyone else was happy to work for their accomplishments instead of marrying into it.

  His aunt had a long list of jetsetters she rubbed elbows with who, in turn, networked with other prominent leaders—the same social circle he ran in. Everyone was always looking for the next ‘big opportunity’ and searching for the next top dog who could help them get the prize. That was the process of corporate business, or at least what his father had tried to instill in him.

  Lucy’s socializing tactics and schmoozing skills did come in handy quite often. She’d brought in business for Knight Corp on several occasions. Just like the current project that he’d been working on night and day for the last year—A.K.A. his baby. She’d played an important role in getting the owner of Hannigan Sports, Mick Hannigan, to place Knight Corp on top of the list for a takeover to merge the two sporting goods supply companies—Knight and Hannigan. The deal would bring in millions.

  Lucy’s heels tapped the polished hardwood floor, echoing off the tall, angled ceilings, making his temples throb even more. After a sixteen-hour day at the office, he’d hoped to come home and watch a game. Have a beer. Take another ibuprofen.

  He followed her from the foyer, down the long hall through a set of glass doors and into the great room. She went straight to the mini bar, dropped cubes of ice into glasses, then poured two fingers worth of expensive scotch into each, handing him one. He took the offering, but didn’t partake. “Is there a problem?”

  “One of many,” she groaned, pursing her full, crimson lips that looked abnormally large for her otherwise thin, crinkled features. “Let’s stop this noise, shall we?” Her gaze darted across the room as if she were searching for something and, when she found the target, a sound of pleasure escaped her. She reached for the remote and clicked off the TV.

  “I was watching the game.”

  “What we need to discuss is much more important than men running around in tight pants, although I never thought I’d say such a thing.” Lucy sighed and dropped the remote back onto the glass table. “I just heard that your sister left her Virginia house—her mother’s house—to one of her charities. How is that possible? Why aren’t you and your brothers doing something about this? With renovations, the place would be worth its weight in gold.”

  “It was Angelina’s choice.” He squinted when a familiar sadness crawled through his chest. His sister had only been gone for a short time now after losing her battle with cancer. He wasn’t sure when he’d stop feeling as though someone had stabbed him in the heart, but two months wasn’t even close in helping to ease the pain.

  Certainly, there wasn�
�t a timeline for grieving, but he was an impatient man, always expecting things to happen fast for immediate satisfaction. This was different. He was still overcome with the same magnitude of emotion when he thought about her. She’d been the glue that held the Knight family together, and now she was no longer here to give words of encouragement, offer advice, even putting her unwanted two-cents in on his fucked-up love life. Angelina had considered herself cupid’s anonymous assistant, although her matchmaking skills weren’t worth a damn. He smiled and swallowed against the constriction in his throat, forcing his brain back on track. Business as usual. When the heart was aching, it was best to jump eyeballs deep in something he could control like work, or fuck until his cock hurt. He was his father’s son.

  “She wasn’t thinking clearly,” Lucy whined. “We all know she was under the influence of strong pain medication at the end. That attorney of hers should be ashamed of himself for allowing her to change her will under such circumstances. I’m certain his bank account blossomed after her death.” She sniffed loudly.

  Declan’s jaw involuntarily tightened. “And how would you know what Angelina was under the influence of during her last days? Did you visit her in the last months after she was diagnosed?”

  “Don’t make me feel guilty.” She waved a hand as if she could simply erase his words.

  “No one can make you feel anything. Angelina was still as sharp as she’d always been, even in the last part of her life.” His own guilt washed through his body. He’d talked with his sister and she seemed…well…okay. He had no clue that her health had been declining. She’d kept the return of the cancer a secret. “Damn, even I let her down on so many levels. I thought I had more time.” He tore a hand through his hair.

  “You’re running a million-dollar business, Declan. Your sister understood.”

  He gave his head a quick shake. “Yeah, I’m sure she did. Anyway, why are you here? The hubby out with his golfing buddies?”

  Lifting her left hand, she wiggled her fingers, flashing her bare ring finger. “Norman is gone.”

  How had he overlooked that she was missing the ice rink from her hand? The diamond was usually the first thing he saw because it reflected so much light that it temporarily blinded him. “He left?”

  “Not exactly. He had become such a thorn in my ass, I couldn’t possibly stay married to the wretched creature a second longer. Out with the old, and in with the new.”

  “Poor bastard.” Probably ran, not walked, when you gave him the news.

  “No worries. One, I wasn’t stupid, yet poor Norman was. Very much so. There were so many holes in the prenup I had signed that my attorney says I will be a pleased woman when this horrible situation is all through. Another thing. I’ve met someone else. I think our relationship will go far. Yet no fear. I’ll still be focused on the company, as usual.”

  “Great. I’m feeling much better now.” He scraped his jaw and rolled his eyes.

  “He’s fabulous—the new beau.” She pressed her palms together as if she was readying herself to pray.

  “In other words, he is rich and available, or at least what you consider to be available.”

  “He’s getting a divorce, too, but it’s taking forever. It’s messy. Young kids and all.”

  “A ring on a man’s finger never stopped you before. Why would it now? Wasn’t Norman married when you met him? As long as you’re happy I guess.” He winked. “But please tell me this new fellow is old enough to legally drink.”

  One corner of her mouth dropped and she feigned hurt. “I’m not sure why you take that attitude with me when I’ve done nothing but help you and your siblings in times of need.”

  Declan laughed. He noticed that she didn’t answer his question on the man’s age. He could easily remind Lucy that after their mother died and their father caged himself in his office, their aunt was too busy with husband two to spend any time with her niece and nephews. She did, however, find a decent nanny that was, thankfully, a great influence and cared for their best interest. He realized they were probably better off without Lucy playing an important role in their care, so he didn’t bother correcting her discrepancy. “I’m sorry to hear about Norman.” Declan meant every word. Although Norman was passive and no match for Lucy, Declan respected the fact that the other man stuck it out in the marriage to her for almost ten years. That could be compared to a life sentence at Riker’s Island. “When is the divorce final?”

  “Next week.” She grinned and fluffed her platinum blonde hair. He wondered if there was anything about her that wasn’t artificial or enhanced. She was a collagen junkie, clinging to the last bit of youth that each injection promised. Someone should tell her there was a line no person should cross, but he wouldn’t dare. He’d once asked her how she’d gotten two black eyes, and she’d been angry for days after. How the hell was he supposed to know that she had just undergone eye surgery.

  Unfortunately, he glimpsed moments of sadness in her and, although undeserving, he did feel sorry for her at times. She’d never had any kids so she was alone. Theobald said that Lucy had loved her first husband, and had been loyal and dedicated to a fault, until he ran away with his young secretary. From then on, Lucy had changed, turning bitter and forever looking out for number one no matter who she had to walk on. Each husband after the first had seemed like an opportunity to make a man miserable. “Norman was in a hurry to sign the papers. I guess the twenty-something model he’s been fucking wants to hurry and marry him before his wrinkled balls shrivel even more.” Her nose crinkled and her chuckle was cold. “If she’s thinking of having a baby with that old man, she’d better invest in Viagra stock.”

  “TMI.” Declan emptied the scotch and placed the empty glass on the table.

  “How dare the son-of-a-bitch warm his bed with another woman, a child of all people. I’ve attended all his boring social gatherings, speeches, plastering a smile on my face, helping him make his way up the ladder of success. He’d never be where he is today if it wasn’t for me.” She moaned, “Even giving him the obligatory once-a-week special in bed was a lot to ask. It makes me sick now to think that I had to tolerate his disgusting grunts and five pumps before he rolled over and snored like a freight train.”

  “Way too much information. Don’t you have friends you can talk to, divulge your secrets with?” He felt a little woozy.

  “Why do men do this? Why do they always trade women in for newer models?” For the first time in a long time, he saw a sliver of regret in her grey eyes. “Like we’re vehicles and once we lose our shine or, heaven forbid, get a rust spot, we are exchanged for the shiny, bright, sleeker model. Do men realize how hard it is for a woman in today’s society? We’re expected to stay a size two, give good blowjobs, and smile like we’re actually enjoying the sex.”

  “Are you trying to kill me?” he groaned.

  “I’m only stating the facts. I’m hoping that you can help me understand why. I’m a decent woman—sometimes. I’m not as firm as I once was, but the tits cost a fortune. They have an operation for everything now and I never wasted one penny. I have the body of a woman twenty years younger than me.”

  He wouldn’t deny that his aunt was indeed a beautiful woman, stayed in shape with the help of a personal trainer and stylist. She never missed her plastic surgeon appointments, which did make her look younger. However, somewhere along the way, the altering of her physical body had become as plastic as her personality. And her bitterness trumped everything else.

  “No answer? Please, offer me some wisdom.” She lifted a thin brow.

  “I can, but you might not like what you hear.”

  “Test the theory, hun.”

  “Lucy, have you ever thought it might be the men you’re choosing? After all, your history is becoming a reckless pattern. Could be that you love the challenge of nailing them, but lose interest once you’ve settled. You said yourself that there’s already another replacement on the horizon for poor ol’ Norman. This new guy didn’t just
pop in at the most opportune time, no, you chose him. All new relationships have the thing called wanderlust. Sex is fantastic until the first argument.”

  He inwardly moaned. He knew the truth of those words all too well.

  “We haven’t slept together, the new man and me!” She smoothed her palms down her tailored, designer jacket. “Mark my word, they’re all princes until they turn into a toad—and believe you me, they all turn into toads eventually.”

  “I take offense to that.”

  “Just be glad you signed a prenup before you waltzed down the aisle with that one woman, what’s her name? Why can’t I ever remember? She looked a lot like that one actress…hmm…” Lucy tapped her chin. “Oh, I know. Kate Beckensale. No matter how sweet and tight she may have seemed at the time, it sure went south fast. You’re worth a fortune and all a woman will ever see is your bank account, dearest. You must protect yourself.”

  Declan smoothed his hand down his cheek. An image of Ashley with her long, dark hair, azure eyes, and pale skin filled his mind. Damn, he’d made a mistake, but shouldn’t he feel regret? Instead, his chest burst with a familiar ache that visited him quite often. At times, it came as a suffocating, unbearable nagging pain that felt a lot like he was having a heart attack. Other times it struck him with a mystical gratification that the only time in his life he’d ever really known satisfaction was in the arms of Ash, his wife.

  They’d married on impulse and when she’d left him after a silly argument, she never came back.

  Pushing the thought aside, he forced his voice to work. “Wow, you’re full of inspiration this evening.” As much as he hated to agree with Lucy, he feared as much himself that every woman outside of Ash would only see his wealth. Therefore, keeping every woman at arm’s length had been his goal. If he didn’t open himself up to anyone, then he didn’t have to worry that he’d wake up one day realizing he’d bought himself a wife. He guessed somewhere deep inside, he believed that love did exist, after all, he had experienced it, or at least thought he had, but many of the women he’d met since were unapologetic in their outward attempts to land a man who could adorn her with jewels, fancy shoes, and exotic getaways. Hell, he wouldn’t mind doing those things for any woman. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to. He hoped one day to find someone who wanted more from him—love maybe. “Her name was Ashley and I didn’t have her sign a prenup.” The words fell out.