JAMIE (The Hartwell Brothers Book 3) Read online

  Jamie

  The Hartwell Brothers Book 3

  M. S. Parker

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Contents

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  The Hartwell Brothers

  1. Matthias

  2. Jameson

  3. Olivia

  4. Jameson

  5. Olivia

  6. Jameson

  7. Olivia

  8. Jameson

  9. Olivia

  10. Jameson

  11. Olivia

  12. Jameson

  13. Olivia

  14. Jameson

  15. Olivia

  16. Jamie

  17. Olivia

  18. Jameson

  19. Olivia

  20. Jameson

  21. Olivia

  22. Jamie

  23. Olivia

  24. Jameson

  25. Olivia

  26. Jamie

  27. Olivia

  28. Jamie

  29. Olivia

  30. Jameson

  31. Olivia

  32. Jameson

  33. Olivia

  34. Jameson

  35. Alice

  His Inspiration: Preview

  1. Joshua

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  Office romances by M. S. Parker

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  The Hartwell Brothers

  Thank you for reading JAMIE, the third book in my new billionaire series: The Hartwell Brothers. Each book is about a different brother and can be read stand-alone, however, I highly recommend reading the books in this order:

  Book 1: KEITH (Hartwell 1)

  Book 2: MATT (Hartwell 2)

  Book 3: JAMIE (This Book)

  Book 4: SHAWN (Mar 2020)

  One

  Matthias

  December 1951

  That look on her face made me want to tear and break things—no, not things. People, several specific people. Lewis Van Horne was always at the top of the list, but I had a feeling another person was about to join him as Alice gave me a forced smile that had become too familiar.

  Instead of giving in to the fury, I returned the smile and pulled Alice into my arms. “I’m going to assume by that expression that the lunch with your mother didn’t go well.”

  She dropped her head against my chest and reached for me, her hands coming around my waist and gripping tight. “You’re a master of understatement, Matt. Have I ever told you?”

  “Damn. And here I was thinking I could finally prove to my mother that I was still the dramatic child I used to be.”

  Her shoulders hitched, and a sound torn between a sob and a laugh escaped her. “Stop it,” she choked out, jabbing her finger into my unprotected side.

  I flinched instinctively and caught her wrist, forcing a teasing tone into my voice. “None of that.”

  “Why not?” She tipped her head back and smiled up at me. “You’re always teasing. I should have some sort of fallback. It’s only fair.”

  “I tease because it always makes you smile.” Dipping my head, I pressed my mouth to hers. “And Alice? Your smile enslaves me.”

  Her breath hitched, and that came with the lovely side benefit of her lips parting, something I took shameless advantage of, sliding one hand up to cup her cheek as I kissed her more deeply.

  She shivered as I tangled my tongue with hers, a moan shimmering through the air.

  Hunger wrenched at me, vicious and intense.

  Soon, I told myself. Soon.

  These past months had been hell on my self-control, but the waiting was almost over.

  Still, the throbbing, pulsing ache of my cock was painful in its intensity, and I broke the kiss when she started to rock against me. I could only take so much, and the self-service in the morning—and some evenings—was starting to prove useless because, the second I saw her, the second I smelled her, I wanted her with a pained, vicious desperation.

  She groaned as I broke the kiss, and despite myself, satisfaction burned inside.

  Alice wanted me as much as I wanted her.

  Soon…

  It had become my mantra.

  Soon…

  She licked her lips, still staring at my mouth, and I averted my gaze before I gave in to the urge to kiss her again. “Come with me, darling. Tell me about your lunch with your mother.”

  “Do I have to?” Her tone was sulky, drawing my attention to her. When our eyes met, she scowled. “She brought Papa along. She said he wouldn’t be there, and he was. I know it’s likely he just decided to come along once he found out, but I didn’t want to see him. We can’t talk without him making me feel like I betrayed my family and decided to go live the high life like some…some…doxy!”

  Her cheeks went a hot red, and she pressed her lips together as if scandalized by her own speech.

  I might have laughed at her expression if I wasn’t so furious.

  Gently, I kissed her temple then disengaged our hands, pacing over to the window to glare outside. We’d recently signed a lease for an apartment along the harbor, although we still weren’t sharing a bedroom. Not yet. The third floor of our home offered a beautiful view, but I didn’t see their blue depths or the ships out on the water at the moment.

  I saw Alice as she’d been that night, her dress torn, her skin bruised while tears glittered in her eyes.

  “You’re no doxy, Alice,” I said quietly.

  “I know that.” She spoke from just behind me. But even when she put a hand on my back, I didn’t turn to face her. “But it still hurts, listening to it come from my father. The judge…”

  Her voice caught on a sob.

  With that small sound, I turned and folded my arms over my chest, waiting for her to go on, to share everything she’d been holding inside.

  Her cheeks were still a hot pink, but she wouldn’t look at me. Staring out the window instead, she took a deep, careful breath. “The judge is hassling my parents, Matt. A cop gave my mother a ticket at a red light. She was stopped, according to my father. Hadn’t tried to run it, wasn’t speeding. Heavens, my mother wouldn’t ever speed. She’s the most conscientious driver in Boston. I’d put money on it.”

  I cursed under my breath. “I’m guessing the cop cited her for speeding?”

  Alice nodded. “Yes, and she had to go to court. She was fined and told she might lose her license if it happens again. On her way out of the courthouse, she saw the judge and he…well. No need to go into detail, but he made it clear he was behind it. My father was told the family business was getting audited, and he ran into the judge a day later. I know that bastard is behind it. So does my father. And my father blames me.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Pulling her back into my arms, I stared out over the water, fury tearing into me. “I’ll take care of this, Alice.”

  “Matt…”

  “No.” Kissing her temple, I eased back and met her eyes. “I told you before. I’ll take care of you. And by extension, that means your family. You don’t have to be afraid, darling. Not ever again.”

  Claudel Cormier had deep blue eyes.

  That was the only resemblance to Alice that I could see.

  He stood rigidly by the desk, his posture so pristi
ne it was like somebody had welded a metal pole to his spine. Or maybe a metal pole was his spine, because it certainly seemed like the bastard had no backbone.

  Blue eyes glittering as he looked me up and down, he didn’t offer a hand.

  “Hartwell,” he said in a cutting voice. “I have meetings this morning, so you’ll need to make this quick. Perhaps if you’d made an appointment, I could—”

  “Does a man need an appointment to talk to his father-in-law?” I asked, keeping my voice light as I settled in the chair in front of him with practiced, casual ease. Crossing one leg over the other, I smiled at him. “It seems we should take some time to chat, man to man. After all, we both love Alice. Don’t we?”

  I didn’t ask the last part as a question. Rather, I stated it and waited for his response.

  Claudel’s eyes went an icier shade of blue as he inclined his head. “You didn’t come to discuss my love of my daughter.”

  “No.” He remained standing even as I smirked at him, and I saw the way his expression tightened, how his shoulders went rigid. In the scheme of things, he might be older than me, but we both knew who held power here. And it wasn’t Cormier. “We’re here to discuss my love of her.”

  A flicker crossed his eyes, a sign of…something. I didn’t know just what it might mean, however.

  “I have a question for you.” Giving him a narrow-eyed gaze, I paused for a long moment, just to let him wonder. “Are you so greedy for power, so desperate to improve your own standing in the community that you’d sell out the well-being of your daughter?”

  “What the hell?” He shoved away from his desk, outrage stamped on his features.

  I’d expected this reaction. While Claudel Cormier did seek to advance his standing in Boston society, there was no doubt that he loved his wife and daughter. He had, in fact, sacrificed for them, fought for them. I had little question that, if it came down to it, he’d sacrifice everything he had for their sake.

  He simply wasn’t aware of certain specifics.

  “Lewis Van Horne is a deviant who preys on those who cannot or will not fight back,” I said coolly, watching his face and waiting, just waiting for the sign that he understood.

  It came almost immediately. Features going pale as his body tightened, he stared me down. “What, exactly, do you speak of?” he demanded.

  I wouldn’t reveal Alice’s secrets…at least, not all of them. However, there were certain things I knew I’d want to know had Alice been my child.

  “Lewis Van Horne is a man who told you he wanted to woo and then wed your daughter,” I said calmly, evenly, watching his expression with great care. “You strike me as a man who holds women as precious…as a gift. What, exactly, would you think if a man took such a gift and left her marred and bruised because she dared to tell him no?”

  His response was immediate.

  It was written on every cold, harsh line of his face.

  When I left the Cormier estate, I knew the two of us had reached an understanding.

  While I wasn’t surprised that Claudel and I had come to a mutual agreement, I wasn’t expecting anything similar from that evening’s…meeting.

  Judge Willis Van Horne was everything I’d expected him to be. In short, he was vain, arrogant, and drunk on his own power, sitting in a lavishly appointed booth in the so-called gentlemen’s club. He’d bought his way in.

  My father and I had both been invited. Until that night, I had never bothered to visit that particular den of sin, and after I left, I knew I’d never have any reason to return. But for now, for this particular purpose, this den of sin suited my needs.

  Van Horne, much like his repugnant son, was everything I loathed in the wealthy elite I’d come to know as I grew older. There might have been a time in my life when I’d viewed the world through rose-colored glasses, but that time had passed long ago, even before I met Alice.

  I’d heard of Van Horne’s predilections well before Alice even came into my life, even before I’d attended that party. In a way, I was far more…worldly, perhaps, than my mother would ever want to know. While she didn’t have rose-colored glasses on, she preferred to see the world as capable of being better, rather than how it truly was.

  Because of that, she was often unaware of some of the darker whispers of things in our society. My father wasn’t unaware, but he wasn’t tuned in to the pulse of society, either. He was too keyed in on the foundation and everything required of him to manage the family’s sizeable fortune.

  Some day, I knew that would be me.

  But for now, I still had the freedom to listen to what I heard…and to act.

  When I slid into the seat across from Willis Van Horne, he barely glanced at me, so focused on the woman he’d hauled onto his lap with cruel hands. All ready, bruises marred the soft gold of her skin, and I knew it would be worse within an hour. But she smiled, because what else was she to do when a prestigious client of the club showed her favor?

  “Go away, son,” Willis said, voice clear despite the four brandies he’d tossed back in quick succession. His face, however, was buried in her cleavage and the hand he had on her upper arm gripped her so tightly, I knew there would be even more bruises before this was over.

  “I don’t think so…Willis.”

  He stilled at the use of his given name, slowly lifting his head from the woman’s rather impressive breasts. Cold brown eyes studied me for a long moment.

  He knew who I was. The moment he’d truly looked at me, he’d known.

  Because I wasn’t one to be impressed or fooled by his games, I let the knowledge show when I smiled at him.

  It was the type of smile he’d understand…cold, cunning, and full of an arrogant knowledge only the powerful possess.

  Flicking a look at the woman, I nudged a few bills her way. I’d prepared them earlier, once I’d decided on this course of action.

  “You can go,” I said softly, nodding to the door.

  Her wide brown eyes slid between us, weighing, measuring, deciding.

  I knew she’d recognized me once she shot out a hand to take the bills, grabbing them so quickly the judge couldn’t have stopped her even if he’d tried.

  As it was, he seemed a bit too surprised to even bother.

  She was long gone by the time he managed to stir himself to any sort of reaction.

  “Well, well, well,” Willis said, lifting his glass to his lips. “I must say, I’d wondered if we’d ever meet, but I hadn’t imagined it happening quite like this.”

  “No?” Lifting the brandy I’d procured before approaching, I took a sip. Eyes still on him, I let a cold smile come to my face. “You know who I am, clearly. So you must know who matters to me. How did you think we’d meet?”

  Perhaps Willis Van Horne’s arrogance had gotten the better of him, because he just stared at me, clearly having no true response. Moments passed as he started to reply, only to stop and start again.

  “Enough,” I said, cutting him off after he tried yet a fourth time to explain. “I know what kind of man your son is, Willis.”

  Face going florid, Van Horne narrowed his eyes.

  “You seem to have a problem with that.” Slumping lazily in my chair, I smiled at him. “Have I insulted you? Are you more concerned about what I might say than the fact that your son abuses women? Enjoys causing them harm?”

  While he sputtered for a response, I glanced in the direction the girl had gone. “Although given your treatment of the gentler sex, it’s no wonder he’s such a disgusting piece of shit.”

  “Show some respect,” he spat at me.

  I snorted. “When have you or your son ever bothered to do the same?”

  Outrage painted his features an ugly, stark pallor, and he leaned forward to glare at me. “You stupid boy—”

  “Shut up,” I said calmly.

  Outrage rendered him mute, but only for a few seconds. Just as he started to swear at me, I spoke again. In a flat tone, I recited the names for the justices of the State S
upreme Court, the state attorney general, the governor, each of Massachusetts’ congressmen, offering their numbers as I went.

  The last number, however, I didn’t offer a name for.

  He’d paled as I spoke, maybe understanding that, while he had some power in the state, it was nothing compared to the Hartwells.

  “Who the fuck is the last number? Santa Claus?”

  “No.” Tapping a finger on my glass of brandy, I said, “He lives in a big white house on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC. As a matter of fact, my father plays golf with him quite often. Weather permitting, of course. And we’ll be attending the annual Christmas party in Washington, D.C…my parents and my new wife.”

  His nostrils flared.

  Van Horne was no idiot, despite his arrogance and profound vanity. Jaw bunched, he stared me down. The need to do violence was writ large on his features. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Would you like me to ask the maître d' for a phone so we can call him?”

  Willis’s face went red.

  “I think I have your attention now, don’t I, Judge?”

  “What do you want?” He glared at me, eyes full of such rage and malice I was surprised there was room for anything else.

  Instead of responding directly, I reached into the inner pocket of my suit coat and withdrew a stack of pictures. “I want several things, of course. The first being that you bring Lewis under control. He doesn’t go near Alice ever again.”