Blackwell stared at the wreck of a car that drove off the estate with Donna inside. His heart nearly stopped. The past five minutes replayed like a horrible nightmare. The worst part was realizing that Donna had left without listening to his explanation.

His gut knotted. They’d talked about trust and now he’d have to spend his life making up for another man’s mistakes—if they went through with the ceremony.

He went back inside the house and saw Chelsea tucking in her shirt. His entire body felt cold as he said, “Chelsea, I’ll be speaking to your father about this stunt.”

Her lips pouted and she seemed like she was a toddler instead of an adult. “He won’t believe you.”

The last person he could ever marry was Chelsea—the woman was devious and calculating. Remington left his grandmother’s sick room and walked toward them in the sitting room—the door was wide open.

Blackwell lifted his chin, looking at Remington while talking to Chelsea. “He’s not getting a dime more from me. Now, I have to go.”

Remington tapped him on the back. “Lord Bright is coming over to see my grandmother now. It would be best if we could clear up any and all business as a group, Blackwell.”

Tingles went down his spine, but Remington was right. It was best to wash his hands of this and move on. With luck, Donna would realize that she’d reacted and made a mistake and wait for him at Woodbridge Hall. “Are you going to ask for Chelsea now?”

He couldn’t let that happen without telling his friend how conniving she was and that she’d thrown him for a loop with that stunt in there.

Remington shook his head. “Absolutely not. My contract is for Cassidy.”

Chelsea’s lips parted in shock. “My sister? Are you serious? She’s awful.”

Remington crossed his arms. “And she’s about to be Lady Sky as she’s already agreed. Your family needs the money, clearly.”

At least they both understood what was happening with the Bright family.

Chelsea crossed her arms and stared at them both like they were evil. “What happened right here cannot be discussed with anyone else, ever. I need to marry fast.”

“You don’t get to dictate terms after trying to destroy my engagement,” Blackwell said, but Remington tapped him on the arm, getting his attention.

A knock sounded at the front door and Remington opened it before his servant arrived.

Remington ushered Lord Paston into the sitting room and Chelsea’s tears began to fall. “Father! These men are not nobles.”

Her tears did not affect him at all. Blackwell adjusted his collar. “Lord Paston. Please send your daughter home. We have business to discuss.”

Lord Bright hugged his youngest daughter. “Where is Cassidy?”

Chelsea even spoke like a child. “She went to work already, Daddy. Lord Sky wishes to marry her but she doesn’t want to.”

Lord Paston looked past him and toward Remington. “I will speak to Cassidy about your proposal this evening Lord Sky. Chelsea, please go home now. I’m here to speak to Gigi and His Grace, the Duke of Oakley.”

She hugged her waist and said, “But-”

“Go.” Her father repeated and opened the door for her.

Chelsea walked like she was a little girl about to throw a tantrum. Her father closed the door behind her the moment she crossed the threshold. He then took off his gray driving cap. “First, Lord Sky, what is this about marrying Cassidy?”

Remington folded his hands in front of him and bowed. “It’s my grandmother’s dying wish.”

“I understand. I’ve hoped one day Cassidy would stop working and accept her position as a lady. She’ll be more agreeable once her mother and I speak to her.” Lord Paston spoke like it was a fact.

Donna might ask Cassidy to move in with them if she thought for a moment she’d been coerced. Donna was very clearly American in her thinking, and part of him understood why. At least his own mother gave him a choice on who to marry.

Right now, Blackwell needed to be clear. He widened his stance. “I am withdrawing my contract for Chelsea’s hand, Lord Bright. Your daughter did not take the news well.”

The older man’s eyes softened. “Was that why she was crying?”

Blackwell felt his cheeks heat so he looked down. “She tried to show she was the better choice and disrobed herself and my fiancée walked in.”

“Ahh.” Lord Bright said and Blackwell looked up. Bright cleared his throat and continued, “I will go see Gigi now. It sounds like you have somewhere else to be as well, Your Grace.”

Perfect. His business with the Brights was completed, though he might be best man at his friend’s wedding to another, if Remington asked. For now, he needed to see Donna. He nodded his goodbye to both men. “I’ll have my courier send over the check. Thanks again.”

He left and his shoulders felt lighter.

Donna needed to understand. He’d not hurt her by choosing another.

He drove his Ferrari home without obeying the speed limit. A few minutes later he parked in front of his estate and ran inside faster than he intended. She wasn’t in the living room. “Donna!”

Her friend, Beth, popped out of the chair behind the stairs with a book in her hand. “She doesn’t wish to talk to you. Where were you?”

Donna had trust issues, but she trusted Beth, perhaps more than him. He took a breath that went deep into his chest and said, “Discussing the contract withdrawal with Chelsea’s father. I’m now free to marry Donna within the hour, if she’ll have me.”

She put the book on the side table and stared at him. “She said you cheated on her.”

This was stupid. He’d never hurt her. Just last night, he’d promised to cherish her by kissing every inch of her skin. He stepped toward the stairs. “I need to talk to her. Now.”

“Did you?” Beth asked.

He turned and stared over his shoulders. The last thing he needed was accusations all his life. For now, he stood firm. “No.”

She pointed toward the stairs. “Then she’s in your bedroom, packing.”

He rushed up the stairs. They needed to talk. This had to end as he felt like he spun in circles by her lack of trust. He threw open the door and saw her zipping a black suitcase. He went beside her and lifted her chin so they were eye to eye. “Donna, I need you to start trusting in me.”

She jutted her chin out like he was being an idiot. “Chelsea didn’t have her shirt on. If I gave you another five minutes, she’d have been naked.”

True, but he’d have thrown her off before she ever went that far. Chelsea had taken him by surprise. He stood with his feet wider. “I didn’t expect her to strip when I told her I intended to marry you.”

“Ugh.” She stepped away from him. “She was in your arms.”

No. He puffed his chest—he had a clear memory of what had happened. “My arms were at my side.”

“Don’t use semantics.” She waved her hand in front of her, like she didn’t want to hear him.

He reached out and brushed her arm gently as he stared down at her. “Donna, please start trusting me. I don’t know how to handle you running away or using Harry’s mistakes against me.”

Her face blushed and she trembled. “I’m not running and not blaming you. She was in her bra. Black lace.”

Her doubts weren’t healthy for him either. He took his hand back but leaned forward. “And I didn’t touch her; I didn’t ask her to do that. I didn’t even know she was going to attack me to show me what I was missing because I chose you.” He stepped back. “But I can’t spend my life defending myself to you.”

Silence hung in the air. He’d rather move his mother back to Colorado than deal with his integrity being questioned for the rest of his life.

He turned to leave when Donna asked in a small voice, “That’s what really happened?”

He flipped around, angry and uncertain. “Yeah. You walked in.”

She stared at him though her gaze began to water.

He steeled his spine against more tears, though hers always affected him. He loved her.

She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I judged you.”

He nodded, relieved that she’d listened to him. “I’m sorry too—I didn’t realize what was going on.”

Neither one of them moved. Blackwell remained wary. She hurt him by doubting him every time something happened. She’d shared her past, and he’d met that idiot Harry.

She stepped forward and touched his arm. “If I promise not to overreact again can we kiss and make up? It’s just that I care about you so much.”

Donna was still in his heart. He felt like he deflated once he let his own anger go. He took her hand in his. “You swear you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt?”

She nodded, clearly eager to start again. “I will.” She brushed his cheek. “Seeing another woman in your arms made me angry.”

“If the situation was in reverse, I’d be jealous.” He leaned closer, and rested his forehead against hers. Donna was everything he’d ever hoped to find in a woman. He held her in his arms. “Okay, Donna. I love you.”

“And I love you too.”

He didn’t need anything else. He claimed her lips as his own and led her toward the bed. He needed her and she accepted easily. Soon, they’d plan the wedding and he’d have her every day and every night in his bed. Perhaps then he’d have enough.