The Renegade (The Rockwell Legacy Book 3)

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Yes. The dream was saying that I’ve been living the life Mom wanted to have but didn’t. Or actually, the life I thought she wanted to have, but didn’t.”

  He cocked his head at her, replaying her words in the hopes they’d make sense. They didn’t. “Could you maybe repeat that?”

  “Probably not,” she admitted. “It was a little convoluted. Basically, I was trying to make her happy in a very ass-backwards kind of way. I was living my mother’s other life. I can see that now. I was afraid of making the same choices she made. But I was wrong. And that means there’s no way this is going to work between us.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. That was fast. And what was her logic? Jesus, this was ridiculous. As if she was trying to find a way to end this.

  “Isabelle, what the hell—”

  She swung her legs onto the edge of the hot tub and stood up. His heart pounded in a kind of panic. What was happening right now? Was she in the midst of disappearing from his life? How could he stop this?

  “You’re overreacting. We’re supposed to be making love in the hot tub right now, not arguing. Come on, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not arguing. And don’t you dare say I’m overreacting. That’s exactly what Dad used to say to Mom when she got upset about something.”

  Lyle hauled himself out of the hot tub, which no longer felt one bit relaxing. “Then walk me through this. What went wrong? One minute it’s hot tub o’clock, the next you’re telling me it’s never going to work. I’m getting whiplash.”

  They stared at each other, the only sound the drip-drip of water droplets onto the tiled floor.

  “You don’t want children,” she said.

  “No, I don’t.” The words had the same finality as those drops of water. “I told you why. Because I don’t know what I’d be passing on.”

  “Are you sure that’s why? Or is it because you like your lifestyle as it is? All that bowing and scraping. You snap a finger and get whatever you wish for.”

  “Not everything,” he muttered, grabbing a towel to cover up. “Clearly. This is definitely not what I had in mind.”

  She didn’t laugh at his attempt at lightness. “What do you want from me, Lyle Guero?”

  He stared at her, his entire body clenched tight as if he was playing defense in the boxing ring. “I want—” He broke off. The answer was ‘everything.’

  Everything except children.

  He reverted to his lifelong fallback position—behind the wall. Calm, controlled and expressionless. “I’m a little confused here. Do you want me to propose to you again? Or promise to never propose to you again? Maybe you could make up your mind and send me a memo.”

  Bright spots of color burned in her cheeks. “Very facetious. Great. Just what this situation calls for.”

  “Exactly what is this situation?” He tucked the towel around his waist and strolled to the hotel bar. “Other than a tragic waste of a luxury penthouse suite?”

  “Nothing. You’re right. It means nothing. Never has. What’s a bubble after it’s been popped? Do you know, Lyle?”

  “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  “Air and slime. That’s it.”

  Leaning against the bar, he squinted at her. “So we’re air and slime now? Let me guess, I’m the slime because I don’t want children and you suddenly do after ranting about how much your work means to you?”

  She shot him a look that could have burned a hole through his head, then stalked to her rollaway suitcase, which she’d left open on the floor. “I think we’re done here. Technically this is my suite, booked under my name, so I am within my rights to tell you to leave.”

  “You want me to leave?”

  With a fierce tug, she zipped the suitcase closed. “No. I’m going to leave. Because this is your world, not mine. I’d just as soon ski through plain old Rocky Peak backcountry. I don’t need all these extras. But you should definitely stay and enjoy the rest of the weekend. I’ll let the front desk know.”

  She jerked up the handle of her suitcase and headed for the front door.

  “Isabelle.”

  She didn’t answer as she marched across the room.

  “Isabelle!”

  Finally he got her attention. “Is there really anything more to say?”

  “Yes. You sure you want to walk out there in your underwear?”

  Casting him another of those scathing looks, she stalked to her clothes and jammed her still-damp legs into her snow pants and grabbed her parka. “Thank you for the heads up. Goodbye, Lyle.”

  29

  He didn’t say anything as she stalked out of the suite, dragging her suitcase along with her. He was still struggling to understand what had just happened. This was a breakup. She broke up with you, jackass. Isn’t it obvious?

  But it had come out of nowhere, like a squall on a sunny day. Or had it? Should he have seen this coming? Should they have been more honest and realistic about what exactly they were doing with each other? What they wanted their futures to look like?

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair. What the fuck? Children? Why did they suddenly have to talk about children?

  His pride screamed at him to let her go. If she didn’t want him, why chase after her? He’d been alone all his life up until now. Why should anything change, just because he met someone who’d rocked his whole world? He’d forge ahead the way he always had. Alone. Master of his destiny.

  He toweled himself off and paced around the suite trying to work off all the nervous energy coursing through his system. Fuck. He didn’t want to be alone. Or more accurately—he didn’t want to be without Isabelle. An Isabelle-free life felt…hollow. Flat.

  You can go after her, his conscience whispered. You were kind of an ass. Why didn’t you just tell her how you feel? Tell her that you love her? You’ve never told her that.

  Would she laugh in his face?

  If she did, so what? Wouldn’t it still be better than never telling her how he felt?

  He wasn’t really sure if that was the case, since he’d never bared his entire heart to anyone in his life. What would that feel like? He honestly couldn’t really say.

  But maybe it was time to find out.

  He pulled on his pants just as his phone rang. He dashed for it, hoping that it was Isabelle telling him to forget their “fight” and strap on some skis so they could get back to their fun weekend.

  It was Amira. “I have some bad news and some more bad news, dearest boss.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

  “Oh, I am. I happen to be occupying a chaise lounge on a pink sand beach that really sets off my skin.”

  “Is that why you chose it?” It was good to hear her voice; it anchored him back to his real life. Just get this whole CEO battle behind him, and life would return to normal. Normal wasn’t so bad, after all. The perks were good. All that bowing and scraping and being able to do whatever you wanted.

  Except win the heart of the woman he loved.

  “You always taught me to pay attention to detail, boss.”

  “Yes, but I had no idea you were listening to me.”

  She laughed lightly. “Only when I chose to, so don’t get a big head.”

  “Right now, the chance of that is basically zero.”

  “Trouble in your mountain paradise? Look, I have no time for your love life at the moment. I need to deliver the news.”

  “Hit me.”

  “I have found out what Drew Clayton has on you. He tracked down your parents and plans to present that information to the board to prove you’re far too controversial to lead the company in this day and age. It’s absolute bullshit if you ask me, but that’s coming from another immigrant, and you know how risk-averse the board members can be so—”

  “Back up. He found my parents?” His head was spinning; he had to grab the back of the couch to stay upright.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? I guess that’s good news after all. Silly me.”

  “Do you know anything—”


  “No. No specifics. Just that they were both here illegally.”

  He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Shit.”

  “You never wanted to know about your parents, is that right?”

  He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him over the phone. “Still don’t.”

  “Sorry, boss. The board’s going to meet right after New Year’s, so I wanted to let you know.”

  “Thank you,” he managed, still reeling from this bombshell.

  “You’re welcome. So now, are you ready for the other bad news?”

  “Christ, I forgot there was more.” He walked to the window and scanned the grounds for Isabelle’s puffy chocolate brown parka. Had she made it out of the lodge yet? Where was she going? They’d driven here together in one of the Rocky Peak vehicles, so if she left he’d be stranded.

  But not really. Jim Draper could pick him up in the chopper. Or he could call Rocky Peak’s only taxi, an old Chevy Malibu with mountains painted on the side. Jake could come and get him—the guy owed him.

  His heart split apart at the thought of Jake picking him up, looking so much like Isabelle, saying nothing because he and Isabelle were over.

  Damn.

  “Seems the guy you hired to keep an eye on Drew has lost track of him a few days ago,” Amira was saying. “He’s trying to locate him, but so far without success.”

  “Is he worried?”

  “Well, he did say Drew was drinking a lot. Gin martinis, which are always a cause for worry. He’d drink and rant about you. Just—keep your eyes open in case he comes looking for you.”

  “Why would he? Sounds like he’s going to win.”

  “To gloat, perhaps?”

  “Hey, if he wants to go face to face with me, bring it on. I’m not afraid of Drew.”

  “But—“

  “I can still beat his ass. But I’ll place a call to Rocky Peak to give them a heads up.”

  “Good. That is all, then. My work is done and my virgin margarita awaits. And my virgin, but that’s another story. Happy New Year!”

  Barely managing to return the courtesy, he hung up with Amira, then right away dialed Kai at Rocky Peak. He filled him in on Amira’s warning, emphasizing that the man would be looking for him, specifically, and that no one should engage with him. “I’ll deal with Drew. This is between him and me and I don’t want anyone else getting in the middle.”

  “I hear you. But just so you know, you have backup. Even Max has an old shotgun he can pull out if he needs to.”

  “Good lord, no. Please don’t let him do that. Drew’s problem is with me. Just let me know if he shows up, that’s all.”

  “How’s Majestic? Are you and my sis having fun?”

  “Oh yeah.” The last thing he wanted right now was to get into details about their disastrous trip. “Happy New Year.”

  “Back atcha.”

  They hung up and Lyle pulled on the rest of his clothes. He had to warn Isabelle too. If Drew found out they were involved, he might decide to mess with her just to make a point.

  He shot off a quick text to Isabelle in case she had her phone on, but got no response.

  Lacing up his boots, he cursed her stubbornness. Why did he have to fall for someone so determined to be independent? Someone who always went her own way and refused to be crammed into a role she didn’t want?

  Stupid question. He’d fallen for her because she was Isabelle, and all those characteristics were part of why he loved her so much. He couldn’t separate out the qualities that were inconvenient. He had to embrace them all.

  He jogged out to the elevator, which whisked him to the ground floor. How long had Isabelle been gone? He calculated the minutes he’d spent on the phone with Amira, and the quick check in with Kai. With any luck, she hadn’t gotten far. Maybe she’d stopped to chat with some Rocky Peak resident who worked here. Maybe someone had had a medical crisis. Or maybe she was quizzing the bartender about the frat boys involved in Amanda’s accident.

  Or maybe she was having second thoughts about storming out on him.

  Hey, he could dream. And there was a good chance that was all he could do when it came to Isabelle.

  Pushing open the front door, he leaned into the blast of cold air that came at him like an icy grenade. It had chilled down now that evening was coming. The spot where they’d parked was to the right of the lodge, and he could see already that the Tacoma was still where they’d left it. So where was Isabelle?

  “Looking for your companion, Mr. Guero?” The sycophantic manager slid next to him. At least the man could be useful this time.

  “Yes. Have you seen her?”

  “She left her bag here and went off on her skis.”

  “Ah.” Of course. No matter how badly they’d fought, Isabelle would never pass up a chance for a ski. “Did she take the chairlift?”

  “No, she didn’t think there was time before dark. She said she was going to do a little cross-country through the woods there.” He waved at the snowy trees beyond the snowbound front lawn. “Not many people bring cross-country skis here, but she was prepared.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Guero. If I may, she did look a tad upset—”

  “You may not,” he said firmly. “Thank you for your help, but I’ll take it from here.”

  The man nodded and turned away, but then Lyle stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Uh…actually, any chance you might have a spare set of cross-country skis hanging around? I’m not as well-prepared as Isabelle. I only brought my downhills.”

  “Of course, Mr. Guero.”

  And that was when he heard a crack echoing from the direction of the woods. He knew exactly what that sound was.

  Gunshot.

  He didn’t wait for the skis, just ran onto the vast unplowed snowfield toward the woods where Isabelle—the only woman he’d ever loved—might be in danger.

  30

  Isabelle stopped in mid-glide and listened closely. Even though it was past hunting season, it wasn’t unusual to hear rifles fired during the winter. But not this close to one of the lodges; that was just dangerous. She glanced down at her brown parka and the white snow pants she’d dragged on over her long underwear in the lobby restroom.

  Great, she looked just like a tree in the snow. Not a hint of orange anywhere on her. She wasn’t even wearing a hat, just a simple black fleece headband. Her hair probably blended right in with the dark color of the surrounding tree trunks.

  “Hey,” she shouted. “No guns this close to the lodge!”

  Her voice echoed through the woods, but got no answer.

  She still had a lot of thinking to do out here, but decided that it wasn’t worth the risk of running into a clueless hunter. She turned around, picking up one ski then the other like an ungainly duck, and pushed into a glide that would take her toward the lodge.

  Where Lyle was probably sitting in the hot tub right now, being sexy and irresistible and all wrong for her.

  You idiot. Why did you have to fall in love with someone guaranteed to break your heart?

  There was never any chance for them anyway, even before Tigger opened her eyes to how much she wanted kids.

  Lyle led a completely different life than she did, and he always would. “Billionaires gonna billionaire,” she muttered. Just look at how the staff at the lodge had treated him. That was his world.

  But not always. He’d grown up a desperate orphan, not a spoiled rich boy. And with her, he’d always been just … Lyle. Guarded but generous, with so much heart hiding behind his severe facade.

  Maybe you could make up your mind and send me a memo. His face had closed up as he said those words, one corner of his mouth curling with disdain.

  But it wasn’t really disdain, was it? She knew how to read his expressions now. He might look impassive, but that was just a mask for the intensity underneath. He used that “arrogant” face to hide his deeper feelings. He wasn’t coldhearted, he nev
er had been. He had a passionate heart, and he’d opened it up to her.

  I came here for you. Only for you.

  And she’d tossed it away by comparing their relationship to a bubble.

  She’d hurt him.

  And honestly, she’d kind of ambushed him by mentioning children. He didn’t want to pass on his genes, but did that mean he didn’t like kids? He loved kids. Maybe he’d want to adopt. She had no idea because they hadn’t even talked it over. She’d gone right to “this won’t work out.”

  What was wrong with her?

  She skied across a bump in the trail, almost a mogul, causing her to go airborne for a moment. “If only Mom was here so I could talk to her about all this.”

  She swished past a tree branch that sent a scattering of snow across her face. It felt like a gentle touch, cool fingers against her cheek.

  A chill shot through her, as if her mother had reached out in her own otherworldly way. Don’t be ridiculous. I believe in science, not superstition.

  A gray jay, one of the few birds who stayed all winter, squawked as it flapped into a treetop.

  Isabelle nearly tripped over her skis, just as startled as the jay. “Mom?” She whispered.

  Then felt ridiculous because nothing followed but silence.

  “Okay, let’s just pretend you’re here,” she said. “I have a problem. I’ve fallen in love. I know I’ve fallen in love. But that’s bad, right? You fell in love and your entire life changed. I mean, lucky for me since I wouldn’t exist otherwise. But I know you weren’t always happy. I know you dreamed about being footloose and carefree. You dreamed about being everything that I am. So what do I do about Lyle?”

  A sob ripped out of her chest—a total shock and surprise. The look on his face when she left kept coming back to her.

  She’d wounded him. Badly.

  A warm tear splashed onto her face. “Mom, I think I made a huge mistake. I don’t know what’s going to happen, how we’re going to make it work, but I feel things for Lyle that…” Her breath caught in her chest. “I love him. I love Lyle. And I trust him. He cares about me, even though he hasn’t exactly said that he loves me. I don’t want to lose him. I need to go back and work things out. If he doesn’t love me yet, I’ll make him. That’s what you’d say, isn’t it? Live your life like a dog with a bone. It’s your life, don’t ever let anyone take it over. Even your dead mother.”