by Faye Avalon
“Ruthless and beautiful,” Treat observed, continuing to swivel in his chair. “That’s a pretty volatile combination. Still, ratting on a colleague got you noticed. Remind me not to cross you.”
“We’re not talking about me. All I wanted to ask you is for some professional courtesy. There’s no story to pursue. Caleb McLeod has served his country and hounding a decorated war hero is not going to help your cause or that of your paper. If you decide to persist, I’ll have no option but to challenge you and the source of your so-called information at every turn. You won’t come out of it well and those broadsheets won’t look too kindly on a reporter who pursues bad leads.”
She paused, letting her words sink in. Almost all local reporters had an eye on the nationals, and by the steely look in Treat’s eye, Talia knew her hunch had been right, and he was one of them.
“If I keep refuting what you write and make a mockery of what you report,” she went on conversationally, “it’ll make you lose any credibility you may have been building for yourself. Believe me, I can do it.”
“I’ve got no doubt of that.” Treat sucked in a breath and nudged the copy on his desk. “Look, how about we make a deal? You give me the lowdown on your brother-in-law, a human interest kind of thing, and the whole thing drops.”
Talia’s first instinct was to tell him to go to hell, but she wondered if this was the best way to deal with the problem. It would keep Caleb out of the line of fire. He wouldn’t have to talk to anyone about his ordeal, and the whole thing would blow over. All she had to do was feed Treat an insipid version of what he wanted to hear. A hero in the wrong place, wrong time kind of deal. Perhaps that Caleb had been on a trekking holiday in South America and things had gone horribly wrong for him when he’d stumbled into the path of rebels, et cetera, et cetera.
“Let me give it some thought.” Talia stood, intent on contacting Caleb first and getting his take on her doing what Treat had asked. “There’d need to be some reciprocity involved, such as letting me run the piece too.”
That way, it really would put an end to further speculation, especially in the local area.
“Maybe. After my paper has run the story, of course.”
“We can negotiate that part.” Talia hoisted her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”
In his office, Caleb paced the floor. He’d asked that the rest of his morning meetings be postponed while he tried to sort the fucking mess that had scrambled his brain and sent ice through his veins.
He’d looked at it from all angles. Considered every possibility. He hadn’t gotten to this stage of his life without making enemies, but when he factored in the people who knew the truth about South America, one name stood out. Joshua. He hated Caleb enough to pull a stunt like this. The only question mark was that his brother would never put the pack at risk.
Which led him back to the only other possibility. Talia. Pain tore at his chest, the thought of her duplicity tunneling through to his core and providing a sharp reminder that this was exactly what he’d feared all along. Her betrayal.
Yet it seemed she’d panicked as soon as the story hit the newsstands and the shit hit the fan. Having finished his meeting to discuss the pack’s current financial health—which, thank God, was sound—he’d checked his cell and noticed the missed calls from Talia. Before he could call her back, Nathan had called alerting him to the report.
While he didn’t want to believe Talia was behind it, the facts stared him right in the face. Despite his having warned Joshua to stay away, his brother had obviously contacted her and told her of Caleb’s plans for the couple to divorce. She hadn’t liked the idea, and had realized that exposing him would give her a bargaining chip. Providing he agreed to let her and Joshua remain married, she would stop having him hounded for additional information about what had happened to him, and the reasons for his trip to South America. If not, she’d threaten to leak the juicier stuff.
The timing stank. He couldn’t get past the fact that the story appeared just one day after their conversation on the moor when she’d questioned him about his experience.
She’d been clever. Not running the story under her own name, with her own paper, but leaking it to a rival. That way she’d kept herself two steps removed from the incendiary potential, ensuring she could swear black was blue that she had no idea about any of it.
While he couldn’t deny the facts, neither could he reconcile the Talia he’d come to know with the calculating banshee who would betray him so cruelly. The woman who had come apart in his arms was far removed from the one who could deceive him in such a fashion. The woman who had held him so tenderly, who had been patient and understanding with his stepmother, who had spoken so fervently about her wish to be accepted by the pack.
But what of her vehemence toward Joshua when she’d discovered he’d lied to her about his reasons for supporting her marriage to Caleb?
He wanted to believe she wasn’t behind the story. But unless the time he’d spent held captive in the jungle had stolen his ability to reason, along with his pride, it was hard to buy.
Deep in thought, Caleb looked up when the tap on his door alerted him to the presence of his personal assistant.
“Jenny, I said I didn’t want to be disturbed…” His voice trailed off as Talia bustled through the doorway. Since he didn’t want to cause a scene for his employee, and add fuel to a no doubt already-simmering fire about him, he nodded to Jenny, who closed the door on her way out.
Talia hurried toward him, the grip on the strap of her shoulder bag so tight her knuckles were white. “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.”
Caleb remained seated behind his desk, mortified to discover that he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him steady right then. The sight of her never failed to cause his breath to hitch, or his blood to heat.
“I’ve been busy.” He kept his gaze locked on hers. “Seems I’m not the only one.”
He saw the exact moment she clicked into his meaning. Her stricken eyes flashed with heat and a little blood found its way to her cheeks, which colored further under his close scrutiny. “You can’t possibly believe I had anything to do with this?”
He ached from wanting to believe her, to believe his own reasoning in her defense, but he’d been played once before and he damn well wasn’t going to chance that happening again.
Memories flashed. Of a dark-haired beauty who had welcomed him between her legs mere hours before she had sacrificed him for a handful of coin. He’d taken his eye off the ball in the jungle. He wasn’t planning on repeating the experience back in civilization.
“Timing seems suspect, considering our recent conversation on the moor.” He leaned back in his chair, relieved that his voice sounded unaffected by the conflict churning around in his gut. “I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.”
Her chin shot up. “You really think I’m capable of doing this?”
Caleb didn’t respond. His heart was stuck in his throat.
“Exactly when did I get the time to write up a story on you?” she demanded. “Was I taking notes while we were making love last night? Or perhaps I was dictating into a machine while I did Pilates with Naomi. And seeing as we both drank wine at her place and talked until well past midnight, I would certainly have missed the deadline for the morning edition.”
Shit. He hadn’t even worked that through. He’d been too quick to judge her, to find her guilty.
“I went to the Star offices this morning,” Talia went on stiffly. “I tried to find out who the source was.”
“I’m guessing they wouldn’t tell you.”
“No.” She hesitated, just briefly. “But there’s a way we can make this all go away.”
Clammy fingers inched down his spine. Despite his reflection, had he called it right after all? Was she intending to blackmail him, to use the threat of what she knew to convince
him into letting her and Joshua remained married? While she might not have had time to write the article herself, a quick phone call to her buddy at the Star would have been enough to get things rolling.
Fuck. His head was starting to pound. “The answer is no.”
“You haven’t even heard my suggestion.”
“It won’t change anything.”
“Look, I tried to make Treat—the reporter responsible for the story—realize that there was nothing to investigate.” She frowned when he folded his arms and remained silent, willing her to say just one thing that would confirm that she really did have nothing to do with it. “I think I got through to him, but he wants a human interest story, something about your time in the jungle and the reasons for it. I thought we could make up something.”
“You people already do that on your own. Why the fuck should I help?”
Hurt flashed in her eyes, but she shook her head. “We need to make this whole thing blow over. If we get some sort of story out there, Treat will back off. I know it. I’ve already told him there’s nothing meaty to be found. Let’s just plan a way to make this disappear.”
He tried not to be swayed by her earnest protestation and by the way she’d obviously reasoned all this out. More than anything he wanted to believe her, to believe the voice inside his head, his heart, that told him she would never sell him out. But he couldn’t think of another explanation for the newspaper article. Nobody outside the pack knew what had happened to him, and he couldn’t think of a damn person who would have anything to gain by telling the story even if they knew of it.
Despite that he wanted to believe Talia, he had to remember what was at stake. The safety and security of his pack. Because if Talia was to blame, and she was willing to leak this story, then she would be willing to leak others. There was no end to the danger it could bring to the pack. Until he could get his thoughts straight, and so ensure his people were safe, he’d be wise to keep his head together. Use his brain, rather than his heart.
“What happens if I don’t play ball?” He took a deliberately relaxed posture, leaning back in his chair and popping one ankle onto the opposite knee. “The paper discloses another little tidbit that might make me reconsider, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing for you to reconsider. All we need to do right now is make this focus on you go away.” Obviously inspired by his silence, she moved to the visitor chair across from his desk. “Treat doesn’t know anything more than he’s already reported. We can take advantage of that and put together something along the lines of you being on a trekking expedition, or taking a sabbatical to discover the Inca trail. Something like that.”
A fantasy version probably all ready for release if he agreed to drop his demand that she and Joshua divorce? And if he refused, she’d arrange for him to have it full blast by swapping that fantasy version for the real one. The one he’d told her that afternoon on the moor.
After all Joshua’s lies and deception, it seemed Talia was still in love with the bastard. Considering the lengths she was prepared to go to protect her marriage, Caleb could no longer doubt that his assumptions about her, and her feelings for Joshua, were correct.
The realization cut him in two.
Talia leaned forward, her eyes huge in her treacherous face. “Maybe we could say you were visiting an old friend,” she continued. “An army buddy, perhaps.”
Caleb remained silent. He felt numb, strangely disconnected to the gist of what Talia was saying. He wondered if every one of her questions had been rehearsed, picked apart, then rehearsed all over again with the aim of getting even more information from him. Well, fuck that.
“Here’s the thing,” Caleb began watching her carefully. “There’ll be no additional story. No further contact with this reporter. We will remain silent on the matter.”
Talia shook her head. “That won’t work. Treat will keep digging.”
And so would she, Caleb thought. Despite the fact that he’d been expecting this, his chest squeezed painfully and he needed a moment to recover. While he’d been prepared for her to be upset when Joshua rang and told her about the divorce, Caleb had been confident in his own abilities to convince her that he, Caleb, was the only man for her.
He’d never had to fight to get a woman. There’d never been any shortage of females prepared to share his bed. So why on God’s earth would he continue to want a woman who didn’t want him? Who was prepared to go to such lengths to stay with another man?
Knowing that, reasoning it out, didn’t stop the wanting. And he’d wanted Talia from the moment he’d seen her, from the moment he’d looked into her stricken blue eyes. Now he had mated with her, knew how she felt in his arms, and that wanting hadn’t diminished. He feared it never would.
“Caleb, please don’t do this.”
He didn’t want to listen. Couldn’t take it any more. “Joshua will divorce you. My mind won’t be changed on this. Any plans you have to convince me otherwise will prove fruitless.”
Genuine surprise lit her face. “Divorce me?” She shot back in the chair, her hand flying to her chest. “What are you talking about?”
Was she really that good an actress? Was this feigned innocence all part of her plan?
“Why don’t we stop wasting time? It’s apparent Joshua told you about the divorce.”
“I… I…” She swallowed, her eyes stark as they met his. “He never said anything about a divorce when I spoke to him this morning.”
“You’ll remain my mate,” Caleb went on. “My wife in the eyes of the pack. Once your divorce is finalized, you will become my wife in the eyes of the law.”
Her expression dazed, she raised her chin. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“You don’t need to understand. You’re the pack leader’s wife. It’s done. There’s nothing more to discuss on the subject.”
“You can’t just make decisions like this. It’s up to me whether—” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Oh God. I can’t think straight. I don’t know what’s happening here.”
After a few moments, during which she took long, slow breaths, she dropped her hands. Defiance shone bright in her eyes. “Joshua told me a bunch of lies about his mother being involved in your kidnapping. Pulled out all the stops to make me feel bad enough for him that I’d agree to marry you.” She pushed out of her chair so fast it toppled back and clanged to the floor. “I can’t believe I’m so gullible, that I’m such an idiot. God.” She pushed her hands through her hair and tugged at it. “If anyone should have trust issues, it should damn well be me.”
Caleb stood and came around the desk. The urge to touch her, to pull her close, was almost uncontrollable. Thankfully, she stepped back before he could do something he’d regret.
“But now, I realize that I can’t trust you any more than I can trust Joshua. You’re both out for your own agenda, and I’m the pawn crushed between you. Well, I’ve had enough. I won’t be subjected to your bullying anymore, Caleb. No way will I stay with someone who believes I’d sink so low as to sell him out. Ever since I came to Bodmin, I’ve been lied to, treated like an outsider, had my integrity questioned…and I haven’t done a thing to deserve it. All I ever wanted was to fit in, to find my place. To love and be loved. Well, it seems I made a huge mistake, but it’s one I fully intend to rectify.”
About to give in to the need to reach for her, he froze. Her last words hit home, arrowing straight to his heart. He braced, waiting for the axe to fall. Now she would tell him that if he didn’t allow her to remain married to Joshua, she would release more of his secrets to her colleague. He narrowed his eyes, about to challenge her as to how exactly she planned to rectify the situation, when she jabbed her fingers into his chest.
“All you’ve ever done is make demands. Treated me like I’m something to be fought over, bargained for. Making statemen
ts like I belong to you, I’m yours. That it’s going to be just you and me. Never once have you considered what I want, never have you actually asked me. You seem determined to make Joshua leave, to get him to divorce me. Did you ask me if that’s what I wanted? No. You just went ahead and plotted and planned what you wanted.” She shook her head. “I’m sick of this. So sick of trying to prove myself to you.”
She spun around and headed for the door, but once there, she turned to face him. “You know what? You’re on your own with the story. If Treat decides to hound you, then he can go ahead. I’m done with it. Done with you.”
The door slammed behind her and he stared at it. He could barely feel his legs, or any other part of his body. Everything was numb now. Except his head, which thudded mercilessly while he tried to make sense of the maelstrom of thoughts invading his mind.
She’d been adamant that she hadn’t had time to put together an article on him, and he couldn’t deny the truth of her reasoning. It had been close to seven o’clock when she’d left home last night, long past closing time for the local rags unless it was a breaking news story. What had been reported about him was human interest, hardly the kind that would hold all the presses.
Talia also said that she hadn’t spoken with Joshua until that morning. If that were the case, how could she have known about the divorce?
Her comment about rectifying the situation had nothing to do with releasing another story, but everything to do with walking out on him. She wasn’t planning to blackmail him to get what she wanted—she was washing her hands of the whole thing.
Of him.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair, trying in vain to ease the pain there and find some release. Not that he deserved it. She’d been right. He’d treated her like an outsider, questioned her integrity. And did he have any proof on which to base his allegations that she wasn’t to be trusted? Had she ever done a thing to deserve his suspicions?