Pride & Pleasure (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 1)
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Authors: Rhonda Lee Carver
RHONDA LEE CARVER
PRIDE & PLEASURE
2016 Rhonda Lee Carver
Copyright 2016 Rhonda Lee Carver
All rights reserved
Pride & Pleasure (Book 1, The KNIGHT Brothers)
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 @
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.
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.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
“Oh no, Victor.” Angelina squealed.
“What is it?” Victor Knight’s heart skipped a beat as he looked at his sister who was sitting across from him in the lobby at the hospital.
“It’s all over social media that Avary Pine was attacked last night as she was coming out of the theater after her solo performance.”
He settled back into the cracked vinyl seat. “Avary Pine?”
“Don’t pretend you haven’t heard me gush over her for the last year. She’s the up and coming cellist that I went to see play several months back, and wow…just wow!”
Victor sighed at his sister’s exuberance. She would have seen his irritation if she didn’t have her phone inches from her face, scrolling like a mad woman. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about your well-being than anyone else’s?”
She looked at him over her cell, then one corner of her mouth twisted. “Why should I worry about myself?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re getting ready to have your first treatment and you need to stay focused on getting better.”
“I’ll have plenty of time for self-pity when I’m back in that chair.” She sniffed.
“It’s not self-pity to be concerned about healing, Angelina. By the way, when should we tell our brothers?” He had danced around the question since she’d been diagnosed four weeks ago.
“That Avary Pine was attacked?”
He growled under his breath. “No, that you have breast cancer. They’d want to know and if I don’t tell them each one will kick my ass.”
She chuckled. “Vic, when were you ever worried about getting your ass kicked from our brothers or anyone else? You’re the tough guy, remember?”
“Yeah, I’m real tough.” What his sister didn’t realize was that he needed someone to talk to. Someone that would share in the pain that she had the same form of cancer their mother died from eighteen years before. The loss of Rose Knight had been devastating and had destroyed their father, Theobald. The damage had eventually seeped into the close bond the siblings once shared. Now they were scattered from place to place, barely seeing one another, not even on holidays that had meant so much to their mother when she was alive.
Theobald had recently passed away. He had been sitting at his desk when his secretary found him slumped over, not breathing. He’d died where he’d spent most of his days. Victor couldn’t blame his father for his interminable dedication. After all, the drive of success was in the Knight blood.
“It says that her hand was hurt badly and she had to have emergency surgery,” Angelina’s words crashed through his thoughts.
“What?” He dragged his mind back on track.
“Avary. She may never play the cello again.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Stop changing the subject. We need to discuss telling our family. Although distance separates us, they still care. They’ll know something’s wrong.”
She shrugged. “We’ll tell them. Tonight. Feel better?”
“Honestly, no.” His throat was thick.
Concern etched lines around her green/silver eyes. She was too young, at thirty-five, to have cancer, and yet the disease had no prejudice. She was strong and her positive nature amazed him—she flipped off the illness that gave her a chance of survival of less than fifty percent. Once she learned of the diagnosis, she’d said, “If I’m going down, it’ll be on my own terms.”
Angelina reached across the short space and patted his hand. “You promised not to be sad. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“I think you should know that I can’t keep that promise.” He shifted. “You’re going to beat this. A lot has changed in the medical field since Mom…”
“Come on, brother. Finish that sentence. Since Mom died of cancer. Not saying the words aloud doesn’t make the past go away. Father was a perfect example. He had his head in the sand more than anybody.”
When Rose died, their father had drowned himself in work and they were lucky to see him. Angelina, being the oldest, had stepped up and became the motherly figure, although only five years separated her and Victor.
Living in a luxurious home on a private estate, several lake-front and secluded vacation houses, and attending the finest private schools made everyone believe the Knight siblings had it all. No one saw how confused and sad the six children were. Once upon a time they were a family who ate breakfast together every morning while their father entertained them with stories of superheroes, miracles and success. They celebrated holidays at their lake house, watched movies and opened presents on Christmas morning. They even attended Sunday service at church.
Their mother was diagnosed and Theobald had bought a vineyard on the Virginian eastern coast, which had been in financial ruin because of harsh weather conditions and bad soil. He’d said that he wanted his family away from the city, but Victor had a suspicion that Theobald had actually needed a project to take his attention away from the fact that he couldn’t help his wife. Rose loved the estate, located close to where she grew up. She’d take long walks on the property until she’d become too weak, and then they would take turns in chauffeuring her around like tour guides showing her the achievements Theobald had made to the vineyard.
Eventually, she was sentenced to admire the beauty through her bedside window.
Rose Marie Jenson Knight had fought an admirable fight, but eventually her body grew tired and a year after they’d moved to the estate, she passed.
Victor wasn’t sure if it’d been more difficult watching his mother slowly succumb to death or his father crawling into a miserable shell where nothing was welcome but grief. Theobald had dedicated himself into making the vineyard what it was today… a successful winery.
Knowing the only way to get his father’s attention was to share in his interests, Victor learned the process of growing grapes, preparing healthy soil and controlling disease in the crop. Working alongside his father in the business, what had started out as a hobby for Victor turned into a career. He’d come back home from college and his father started spending most of his time at the ranch in Montana and didn’t seem to have a stake in the wine business any longer. So when Victor inherited the Knight Estate Vineyard and Winery, the transition had been smooth considering he’d been at the helm for a while.
“The stories say she was brought
here
after the attack.” Angelina sat up, dropping her phone into her jacket pocket. “You have to buy her flowers.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You have to go to the gift shop and buy Avary flowers—something colorful.”
“If I was attacked and didn’t have use of my hand to ever play again, the last thing I’d want is flowers,” he said.
“You’re cynical.”
“Stop trying to help everyone.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You’re never going to find anyone to love or to love you until you stop being so disparaging.”
“What makes you think I want to find someone?” He picked the top magazine up from the stack on the table next to him and thumbed through the pages, pretending interest in a salon ad.
“Go buy the flowers. Do this for me,” she said.
“I’m busy reading.” He kept his gaze lowered.
“Since when do you read
Cosmopolitan?
If you see any Kama Sutra articles, let me know. I’d like to read them too.”
He blew out a long breath and tossed the magazine back on the table. “Fine. I’ll do this for you, once you’re back to the room.”
“Go now,” she demanded.
“Don’t trust me that I’ll do it?” He lifted one brow.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve promised something just to appease me.”
He knew there was no use in arguing. Going to get the flowers would be much easier than trying to convince her how this idea was insane. He didn’t know one person who wanted flowers while they were in the hospital. A bottle of whiskey maybe. Or even chocolate. But who wanted to watch something so beautiful slowly die? He stood, grabbed his jacket from the arm of the chair and pulled it on. “Okay. You won. Something colorful.”
“And make sure you give them to her personally.” Angelina pulled her phone back from her pocket.
“You know you’re pushing it, right?”
“You know that I love you, right?” She smiled, but it didn’t take away the dark smears under her eyes or the pale color of her cheeks.
He jerked a shoulder up and let it fall. “Sometimes I wonder. Meet you here when you’re done.”
Victor left the lobby and headed toward the elevator, stabbing the down button. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to buy flowers for a stranger. He’d never bought flowers for any woman that wasn’t his relative. Then again, he would do anything to make his sister happy.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was a reminder that he had an evening meeting with the accountant for the vineyard. Sometimes Victor wondered how his father had juggled so many different businesses, financial opportunities and households. Then again, once Theobald’s sons graduated college, their father had expected them to take a leadership role in the family businesses, which gave him more freedom. After all, the Knight children were raised to be leaders.
Victor and his siblings had sat in the lawyer’s office as the will of Theobald Knight was read. None of them had understood until that moment just how carefully their father had planned the future of his children. It seemed as if he’d molded them to take over where he’d left off. Of course, Victor inherited the vineyard and the estate. Declan, the sports equipment manufacturing company in Atlanta, that was worth millions. Christian, the lakeside home in a small secluded town just outside of Savannah, Georgia where he was a popular veterinarian—which had something to do with his dimpled smile that had all of the women bringing in their pets, sick or not. The family had spent many vacations there on the water and the memories overflowed. Quentin was left the ranch in Montana because he’d always been a cowboy at heart. Seth had inherited property with a number of cabins on wide open land surrounded by mountains in Tennessee. It satisfied his need for solitude. After serving in the military and suffering a few heartbreaks, he wasn’t the same man who used to always wear a smile and have a joke to tell. Angelina had inherited their mother’s house in Virginia and a small rental house on the property next to Christian’s.
The Knights had been sent to the best schools and had received the best education. They’d inherited their father’s business skills—touch anything and it’d turn to gold. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the same luck when it came to relationships.
When Angelina was diagnosed Victor’s life had turned upside down. She’d shown up at his house late one evening and blurted out the details over a bowl of rum raisin ice cream. She could have gone anywhere, to any treatment center in the world, but she’d wanted to stay in Virginia at the family estate. This was where she felt closest to their mother.
The mere thought that he could lose Angelina weighed heavily on Victor’s already slumping shoulders. He wondered how his brothers would take the news. That was, if his sister would tell them. She didn’t want them to worry.
Here lately Angelina had been talking relentlessly to Victor about finding love, marrying a special someone. A relationship was the last thing he wanted, or needed, at this time in his life. No woman would want a man who was eyeball deep in running a business, not to mention he had serious character flaws. Admitting those faults was the first step, or so he’d heard. Unfortunately, he was too much like his dad, and, unless Victor could somehow eradicate his gene pool, this was a misfortune he couldn’t change.
The doors to the elevator opened and he stepped in along with a man and woman who were holding hands. Once the doors closed, the couple snuggled closer, rubbing noses and giggling over the news of her pregnancy. Victor cringed. What was it about elevators that brought out the romantic side in people? Or sexual raw need? He’d been struck with it a few times and had pressed a willing female against a cubicle wall, pounding her right up until the very
ding
of the bell announced that they’d reached their floor. His cock twitched at the thought, reminding him that he hadn’t held a woman in weeks.
There were times that he was lonely. That was the only caveat of not being in a relationship. He didn’t get to hold a warm, soft body on those nights when he needed it most. And it was likely tonight would be one of those nights.
Sure, there was a woman he met on occasion and they would tear up the sheets, but their meetings had gotten further and further apart. Since he’d taken over the business, he’d been on a different schedule than what pleased her. She’d given up on waiting for him, especially after he’d stood her up the last time. Hell, how was he supposed to know an emergency at the vineyard would arise? He should have called her, but he didn’t.
In truth, he didn’t have much time for sex, not since he had responsibility now. His days repeated themselves. He’d leave his office, come home and drop into bed, asleep the second his head hit the pillow. Up early, work out in his home gym, then back at the grind. Hell, he shouldn’t complain. He was fairly young, in good health, and Knight Vineyard and Winery was doing the best it had done in years—ever. His chest puffed out. His dreams of one day turning the house into a bed and breakfast were possible. Then he could own a small house on the water, spend some time fishing, sailing, grilling out, and enjoying life.