And then there was…the backyard. Wrought-iron fences enclosed the tennis and basketball courts, their packed clay surfaces so perfect, they were either newly laid or rarely used. Surrounded by shrubbery, stone and splashing waterfalls, the pool looked like something out of a Tarzan movie, and the top-of-the-line outdoor kitchen was equally ostentatious. Any hope Rhys might have had of connecting with the owner disappeared once he saw the ten-foot naked statue of Adonis plopped in the middle of the lawn, with a dozen stone maidens gazing up at him adoringly.
In keeping with the theme, most of the guests were female, the average age being twenty. Barely clad, drinking Cristal Champagne from the bottle, they’d be at home at any party at the Playboy mansion.
Rhys made the rounds anyway, trying to strike up a productive conversation, feeling out of place in his sedate dark-gray suit. The women—no, girls—giggled at his questions, and the males stopped him before he could complete a sentence. They were here to “chill, man,” not to talk business.
The more Rhys tried to picture Lucie in this place, the more he hoped she hadn’t come here in the first place. If he felt out of his element, he could just imagine how lost she’d be among these champagne-guzzling groupies.
Trae, on the other hand, seemed quite at home. She had a crowd gathered around her, he noticed resentfully, all listening avidly as she made broad, sweeping gestures with her hands.
As the group erupted into laughter, he remembered Lucie telling him why she liked her former roommate so much. Trae was just plain fun, she’d said. Not in a who-cares-about-tomorrow way, but more as an everything-now-feels-better way. When Trae smiled, it was like the sun coming out after a long hibernation. Her laughter called to you, and you knew it was time to go outside and play.
Watching Trae charm her audience, he had to admit she had a certain Pied Piper ability. She sure seemed to be leading that horny young surfer by the nose. Was she joking? The kid had to be young enough to be…well, her younger brother.
Rhys wondered if she noticed the lust in the boy’s eyes as he handed her a glass of champagne. Apparently not, for the next thing Rhys knew, Trae was tugging his hand, leading him out to a makeshift dance floor. The kid was pathetic, but Trae swayed with the sinuous grace of a serpent led by the snake charmer’s flute. Holding her glass with one hand, resting the other on her hip as she undulated in perfect harmony to the Latin beat, she had her poor partner mesmerized.
Rhys as well, apparently. Realizing that he was gaping, he snapped out of his trance and stepped up to her. “That’s enough,” he said, taking the glass from her hand and dumping its contents on the ground.
“Someone sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.” Still dancing, she leaned closer to the kid. “I think he might need a nap, Josh. He’s getting kinda cranky.”
“Forget him, Red. You keep dancing and I’ll get you another glass.”
Watching Josh scramble off, Rhys couldn’t contain his irritation. “I thought the object was to find Lucie. Not get wasted.”
“I had one glass. Maybe it’s no big deal to you, but sipping Cristal Champagne happens to be a real treat for me. Know how often I get to drink that stuff on my budget?”
“And how can you resist the temptation when you have your boy toy to run and fetch it for you?”
She didn’t seem to appreciate his sarcasm. “Jealous, Paxton?”
“No, I’m fed up. Stop playing spring break, and let’s get out of here.”
“Oh, really? And who died and left you boss?”
“You’re making a scene,” he told her, conscious of the many heads turning their way. “Let’s go.”
He reached for her arm, hoping to minimize any further unpleasantness, but before Trae could acquiesce—or, more likely, argue—they heard a shout from behind.
“Back off, dude,” Josh cried out. “The lady’s with me.”
Coming up from behind, he shoved Rhys as if to move him out of the way, not realizing how close to the pool he was standing. Rhys had time to register this fact, and feel the ground disappear beneath him, before he landed in the water with a loud, painful thwack.
As he surfaced, gasping for breath, he heard a vigorous chorus of, “Banzai!” Within seconds, bodies began flying, flailing, hitting the pool like boulders from the sky.
Treading water in the resulting waves, Rhys glanced up to find Trae grinning down at him. “Sorry,” she said, not looking contrite in the least safe and dry on the deck. “Here, let me help.”
She leaned over and extended her hand. Rhys could have taken her offer of help and that would have been the end of it, but for some unknown reason, he had an inexplicable urge to give her hand a tug. He had an instant to acknowledge her stunned expression before she, too, dropped in the pool beside him with a resounding splash.
A little surprised himself by his action, Rhys reached down to pull her up, treading water for both of them. As she broke the surface, he expected her to sputter and spit out every bad name in the book, but trust Trae to remain unpredictable. “Touché,” she said, laughing as she flipped the hair off her face. “You know, Paxton, there might just be hope for you yet.”
Her eyes actually twinkle, he thought in bemusement as he gazed down at her. Her entire face seemed to sparkle with laughter. How happy she seemed, how alive. He had a sudden strange urge to pull her closer yet.
“It’s cold,” she said suddenly, breaking away to swim to the side.
Funny, he thought as he watched Trae climb out of the pool—that was the warmest he’d felt in years.
Not that it lasted. By the time he reached the top step of the ladder, he could feel the chill in the afternoon breeze. He’d have to get out of his jacket, and he’d definitely have to lose the shoes. Second ruined pair this week, courtesy of that woman.
Trae was standing at a nearby table, holding out a towel. “Look at you.” He took the towel from her and she reached for another. “You look like a drowned rat.”
“And what do you suggest I do about it? I can’t change. As you’ll remember, my stuff is somewhere between here and Kansas.”
“Oh, yeah, right.”
Her gaze went to the pool, brightening when it settled on Josh. The way the girls around him were squealing, lord only knew what the kid’s hands were doing under the water.
“Hey, Josh,” Trae snapped her fingers in his direction. “Get up here. I need your help.”
And just like that, Josh gave up playing lecher to hop out of the pool. “Hey, doll,” he said with a beaming grin as he sidled up to Trae, hormones surging, wet skin and all. “What’s up?”
“I need you to help Rhys.”
Josh’s grin died at her request.
She looked from one to the other of them. “Okay, I guess you two have had a bit of a rocky start. Let’s remedy that by starting all over. Josh Carino, I’d like you to meet Rhys Paxton. Rhys is from Connecticut. He owns and runs the Paxton Corporation. Josh is a student, Rhys. He’ll be starting out as an art major at the University of Arizona this fall.”
“Yeah, but me and my buds are all majoring in surfing this summer.”
Josh chuckled at his own joke, but Trae was not to be sidetracked. “Rhys needs something dry to wear,” she explained patiently. “C’mon, be a sport,” she coaxed when Josh showed no signs of budging. “It’s the least you can do after pushing him in.”
Rhys watched the kid struggle with indecision until the need for Trae’s approval won out. “For you, Red, only for you. Come upstairs, man, and we’ll see what we can find you.”
“You own this house?” Rhys asked, unable to believe this could be the “rich dude” they’d been looking for.
Josh made a face. “I’m in high school, man. Where would I get the money for a house like this? It’s my old man’s place.”
His old man? Even better. Finally, someone who could provide useful information. “Where is your father?” Rhys asked brusquely. “I need to talk to him.”
“What for?” Eve
ry freckle on Josh’s face paled as he vehemently shook his head. “No way, dude, I’m not giving you his number. He’ll freak if he hears I’m having a party while he’s away. I’ll get grounded for a month.”
So much for appealing to a sane, responsible adult.
“Look, I’m sorry I pushed you in.” The kid was reduced to pleading. “Forget my old man and I swear, you can have anything in my closet.”
Rhys shuddered as he considered the probable wardrobe choices. Still, Trae was right, he couldn’t go traipsing around looking like a drowned rat. “Fine, lead on,” he told Josh, sparing a backward glance at Trae as they headed toward the house.
She was grinning. “Pick out something sexy,” she called after them.
Rhys didn’t bother to grace that one with an answer.
Not exactly sexy, Trae thought when Rhys later returned in baggy board shorts, a pale-blue Surfrider T-shirt and flip-flops, but somehow, the casual clothes seemed to soften him, make him more approachable. As if they could sit down and talk, and maybe even find something on which they could finally agree.She flashed back to the moment he’d held her in the pool. He’d surprised her by pulling her in, then caught her doubly off guard by the strength with which he’d not only yanked her out of the water but kept them both afloat. Gazing into his intense blue eyes, she’d been struck by the uncomfortable possibility that there could be a good deal more to this man than she’d ever suspected.
Staring at him now as he walked up to her, she found herself wondering if the guy might indeed have some potential.
Until he opened his mouth.
“I feel ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. “Hook me up with a surfboard and a Twinkie, and I, too, can get grounded for a month.”
“Careful, he’ll hear you.” Dimpling at his words, she nodded behind her to where Josh was turning on the charm for a bevy of lovely young ladies. “Want him taking back his clothes?”
He scowled at Lucie’s pink running suit. “You certainly look warm enough. How many outfits do you have stuffed in that backpack?”
Ignoring him, she held up the black plastic trash bag Josh had given her. “Here, put your damp stuff in this.”
He started to put his suit in the bag, then hesitated.
“If you’re reluctant to mix your stuff with mine, it’s too late. I already put your jacket and shoes in first.”
“No, that’s not it,” he said distractedly as he dug through the pockets of his pants. “I wanted to pay your pal for his clothes but I can’t find my wallet.” He dug in the bag, pulling out the jacket and searching it as well. “It’s not in here.”
“It has to be.” Men. If she had a nickel for every time her brothers couldn’t find something that was staring them in the face, she could die a rich woman. “Here, let me check,” she said, grabbing the clothes from him.
But after turning every pocket inside out, she had to agree. “It’s not here.”
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“Don’t get smart. Go back upstairs and look around the room where you changed. It must be there. And just in case it’s not, I’ll check the pool.”
“Who died and left you boss?”
Hearing him use her own taunt against her, she had a sudden, infantile urge to stick out her tongue. “Fine, I’ll go upstairs then.”
“I’m on it, okay?” he snapped, heading back into the house.
How like Paxton, she thought as she watched him head back to the house. Everything always had to be his decision.
“Hey, Red, wanna dance?”
Trae forced a smile as Josh ambled over to her. He was a cute kid, but too young, and way too blatantly on the prowl. “I’m busy looking for Rhys’s wallet,” she explained. “He lost it.”
“So? Let him look for it.” He hooked an arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, you and me should go have some fun. I don’t get what you see in that guy, anyway.”
“I don’t see anything in him,” she snapped, dodging free of his grasp. “I told you. We’re working together to find my friend and until we do, I’m stuck with him. That’s all there is to it.”
“Yeah? So if I can tell you where she is, you’ll ditch him and hook up with me?”
Trae felt a spurt of excitement. “You know where Lucie went?”
“Me? Nah, I just got home this morning. But my old man has these guys, Rico and Johnny. They look out for the place. They’re cool. Never rat me out about my parties, as long as I slip them a hundred and clean up after. They see everything, if you know what I mean. Bet they’d know where your friend went.”
“Let’s go talk to them then.”
Josh shook his head. “They won’t talk to the guests. Not allowed.”
Following his gaze to the back of the yard, Trae understood his hesitation. Two supersized gentlemen stood at attention, legs akimbo, watching the proceedings with stony expressions. At first glance, you might think they were Secret Service agents, but Trae knew they were a far cry from government issue. You didn’t grow up in the neighborhoods of Brooklyn without recognizing the slick designer suits, the telltale bulges under the silk jacket lining. These guys were muscle, with a capital M.
All at once, Josh’s last name took on new significance. “By any chance, is your father’s name Lou? Did he move here from Brooklyn?”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head, surprised by the question. “Why?”
She shrugged, half to appear nonchalant, half to shake off her growing uneasiness. “I once knew a guy who worked for him back in New York.”
Ray DeLucca had not been one of her finer moments. In a spurt of independence, she’d tried to prove her family wrong by dating the neighborhood “wiseguy.” Three months was all it had taken to recognize that her parents were right, that she had better ways to ruin her life. Last she heard, Ray was doing serious time up in Attica.
And now here was Lucie, hanging out with the same, dangerous people. How on earth had she ended up getting involved with the mob?
But that was obvious. Bobby, the mooch, who apparently saw only the ultimate cash cow, not the price you’d pay once you milked it.
“Your dad, where did he go?” she asked, silently hoping it wasn’t Las Vegas. Lou had a casino there, she remembered from Ray, a place called the Snake Pit. She didn’t enjoy imagining sweet, innocent Lucie anywhere near it.
“Dunno,” Josh said with a shrug. “S’ppose I could ask Johnny and Rico.”
“Do that. Please.”
As Josh wandered off, she decided she had better look for the wallet before Rhys came back. Walking over to the pool, she peered into the shimmering blue water but could see nothing. She even asked two girls to dive down and double-check, but they merely confirmed her suspicion—the wallet was not in the pool.
She was searching the yard with less and less hope when Rhys stormed out of the house and marched right past her. “Any luck?” she asked as she fell into step beside him.
His dark expression said it all. “It’s not in the house. It’s not anywhere. Someone must have stolen it.”
“Sure, Rhys. Because the people here clearly need the money,” she said sarcastically.
He ignored her, grabbing the plastic bag with their clothing and reaching inside. He whipped out his BlackBerry with a grim expression. “I’m calling the police.”
Conscious of the two thugs watching every movement in the yard, Trae put a hand on his arm. “Don’t. Let’s just get out of here.”
Busy punching buttons, he looked at her, incredulous. “Now, you’re suddenly in a hurry to leave?”
Glancing over her shoulder, Trae saw Josh headed back their way. Once he arrived with the information, they could go. Had to go, before Rhys said or did something to make a scene.
“This is useless,” Rhys said angrily, tossing the cell phone into the bag. “The water must have shorted the circuits. I’m going inside to find a phone that doesn’t leak.”
“No,” she said when he turned to go. “Let’s just find
a pay phone on the way.”
He eyed her as if she’d just suggested standing on their heads. “Forget it. I’m not going anywhere without my wallet. I’ve got five major credit cards inside it. Not to mention my identification.”
“You can replace credit cards. Your license, too.”
He tilted his head to study her. “What’s going on, Trae? Why this sudden urgency to leave?”
Uneasily, she looked back at the bodyguards, glaring like a pair of pit bulls from the rear corner of the yard. “I know about Josh’s father from my old neighborhood. Let’s just say he doesn’t act like the polite folks you hang with in Connecticut.”
“If you’re trying to protect that kid so he doesn’t get punished…”
“No, it’s you I’m worried about. Trust me, you don’t want to make a fuss here. Unless you want to replace your fancy wing tips with cement shoes.”
“You can’t be referring to the mob?” At her nod, he looked incredulous. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Jeez, Trae, we’re all adults here. Well, most of us,” he added, looking behind them at the girls still giggling in the pool. “I’m sure if I talk to this guy like a civilized…”
“No.” Trae shuddered at the thought of Rhys pontificating at Lou, or worse, at Rico and Johnny. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with. Unless I miss my guess, those two are packing.”
He glanced over at Josh’s bodyguards, his expression going taut.
“Besides,” she went on, “if you bring the police here, Lou Carino won’t be the only one facing public scrutiny. After the debacle at the church, do you really want to leave yourself open to more adverse publicity?”
“Lucie’s more important than…”
“Yes, she is. So think about this. While you’re busy pursuing justice, she’s out there somewhere with Bobby. And given the mob connection, lord knows who else.”
The Tycoon Meets His Match Page 6