by Joanna Wayne
“She won’t have to commute. That’s the beauty of this arrangement. She and Tommy can live here on the ranch. You said yourself that she only has a small, crowded apartment in the city, so she should be thrilled for the chance to move from there.”
As difficult as it had been to get Alexis to agree to spending one night on the ranch, he seriously doubted she’d choose to move out here. But even if the job and living arrangement worked for Alexis, they would not work for him.
Alexis wasn’t the kind of woman he could be around every day and ignore. The temptation would be rabid.
“Her moving here is not a good idea, Mother.”
“It’s not as if I expect her to live in the guest suite.”
“The horse barn would be a little smelly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tague. You can have the old foreman’s cabin fixed up for her and Tommy. It’s the perfect size. It just needs some paint and new carpet and some of the kitchen appliances replaced.”
“It would be easier to build a new cabin than to repair that old place.”
“That’s an excellent idea. And she won’t need child care because she can bring Tommy to work with her. I’m sure he won’t be in the way.”
Tague pushed back from the table and stood. “Do you hear yourself? You’re planning the life of a woman you barely know. And how much help can she really be to you if she’s taking care of Tommy? That in itself appears to be pretty much a full-time job to me.”
Disappointment tugged at his mother’s mouth. “I guess that could be a problem.”
“Call Durk, Mother. If she wants to work for him, she can hire a babysitter just like every other working mother in Dallas.”
“It almost sounds as if you’re afraid to have her around.”
“Yeah. Call me smart. Moving Alexis and Tommy in here would be asking for trouble. Besides, I’m sure she’s not interested. How many single women do you know who are just dying to move from the city to a ranch?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Damn straight. He definitely didn’t need a seductive temptress living in his backyard.
“Now that we have that settled, I’d better go take Tommy out to see the horses. I figure it’s near bedtime for him.”
Tague walked to the guest suite and tapped on the door.
“Come in.” The invitation was low and a bit breathy, almost as if Alexis had been crying.
He opened the door and stepped inside. Alexis was standing next to the window in a pair of soft pink pajamas. Her hair was damp from the shower. The bruise beneath her right eye had deepened to a blend of blue and dark purple. Both her eyes were red and slightly swollen.
His chest constricted painfully and his insides felt as if someone had reached inside him and turned them inside out. Maybe it was just her vulnerability, but it was all he could do not to walk across the room and take her in his arms.
“You don’t look as if you’re ready to go see the horses,” he said.
“Tommy fell asleep. I don’t want to wake him.”
“That’s okay. He can see the horses in the morning.”
“I don’t think so, Tague. I’d like to leave as early as possible. I’ll call for a taxi so I think we should just say our goodbyes tonight.”
His stomach knotted. “Where will you go?”
“I haven’t decided, but somewhere far away from Dallas. I’d been thinking about it even before today. The carjacking just provided the impetus. And now that I have most of my belongings out of the apartment, there’s
really no reason to go back.”
So unless he did or said something to change her mind, this would be the final goodbye. His mind said to let her go. His heart and body weren’t buying it.
His brains lost the battle.
“Forget about leaving, Alexis. I have a proposition for you that’s too good to refuse.”
Chapter Six
Alexis was shocked by the offer to work for Carolina Lambert. A day ago she would have jumped for joy at a way to make some much-needed money and not have to leave Tommy with a sitter all day. Now it was a pipe dream. Once again, Scott had twisted her life into an impossible situation.
She brushed her damp hair behind her ears and dropped to one of the upholstered chairs. “Your mother doesn’t even know me. Why would she want me to work for her?”
“Snap decisions are not unusual for Mother, especially when it comes to people. She seems to think the two of you would make a good team.”
“Did you explain about the kidnapper and that hiring me might be inviting danger to the ranch?”
“I seriously doubt that would affect her decision.”
“Why?”
“In the first place she’d consider danger all the more reason for you to stay here. It’s extremely unlikely the carjacker would be foolish enough to show up here. We have an alarm system and cameras at the gate.”
“Couldn’t he avoid the gate and the cameras altogether by just breaking through the fence?”
“He could,” Tague agreed. “But then he’d still have me and a dozen wranglers to deal with. The odds would not be in his favor.”
That might all be true if it was the carjacker she was worried about. But in spite of what she’d told Tague, the call hadn’t been from the carjacker. All the alarms and cameras in Texas wouldn’t deter Scott. He’d show up with an army if need be.
No matter how persuasive Tague’s argument, no matter how much she’d like to say yes to Carolina’s offer, she didn’t dare take her up on it.
“It’s a lovely offer, Tague. Tell your mother how much I appreciate it. But I have to say no. It’s not the best solution for Tommy and me or for her.”
“Mother will be disappointed.” He stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “So will I.”
His touch triggered a surge of awareness and a swell of regret. There was undeniable chemistry between them, an attraction that shouldn’t be there, but persisted anyway.
Given time, they might have shared something great. Now she’d never know.
“I guess I should go and let you get some rest,” he said. “But don’t bother with the taxi. I’ll drive you into town and make certain you’re able to rent a vehicle.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Maybe not, but it’s sensible. The better idea might be for me to go with you to a car dealer so that you could go ahead and replace the Honda. I have friends who could give you a great deal.”
Naturally, he would. But the offers wouldn’t be for anything she could afford. “I’m not quite ready to purchase yet.”
“If money’s an issue, I could front you the insurance money and you could pay me back when you get their check,” he offered.
“Are you even for real, cowboy?”
He tugged her to her feet and pulled her into his arms. “I’m as real as it gets.”
She knew he was going to kiss her. Knew she should stop him. Instead she melted into the thrill and the taste of him. Passion claimed her so completely that she literally lost her breath.
When Tague pulled away, she felt a burning in her lungs and a hunger deep inside her that she had little chance of ever satisfying.
Tague walked to the door. “If you change your mind, the job offer still stands.”
“I’ll think about it.”
She’d no doubt think of little else except for the kiss that had just blown her mind. But nothing would change.
She dropped back into the chair as his footsteps receded down the hallway, tucking her feet beside her and pulling a cashmere throw over her legs.
Her fingertips trailed her lips, and she could swear she still felt the heat from his kiss.
At one time she’d been almost as enamored of Scott. Not physica
lly, the way she was with Tague. She’d never felt anything that compelling and sensual for Scott.
But she’d been awed by Scott’s reputation and acclaimed genius. Practically every actress and actor in Hollywood had been. Alexis had been so nervous about meeting him the first time she’d auditioned for a role in one of his movies that she’d forgotten her lines.
She was certain she’d blown her big chance. She’d been devastated. But she’d gotten a call back. And then she’d received the coveted invitation to the Hayden Malibu mansion.
What she hadn’t realized was that the visit would be an audition, as well.
That time she’d gotten the role. One month later Tommy had been growing inside her.
* * *
SCOTT JEFFERY HAYDEN was thoroughly pissed. He’s spent two weeks setting this up and then the carjacking had flopped like his latest production was threatening to do. None of it had been his fault.
“I guess I should have come down there and taken care of things myself instead of trusting it to some bungling, inept private detective.”
“You called the shots, sir. I did exactly as you directed.”
“If you’d done things right, my son and my wife would be on their way back to California.”
“Your wife is a hellcat. But we’re back on track. She split within an hour after you called her.”
“Perfect. Did you go though her apartment as I instructed?”
“Yes, but she didn’t leave much behind except the furniture and some overripe bananas.”
“Then it appears she’s left for good?”
“Looked that way to me. Not a stitch of her clothes left in the apartment. I found some kid’s clothing, but it looked like stuff Tommy might have outgrown. Your son’s getting big, Mr. Hayden. Looks like a boy now instead of a baby.”
“Did you take pictures of the apartment?”
“I did. I followed all your instructions to the letter.”
“Then you know where my wife is now?”
“Not exactly.”
“Explain that comment.”
“She left here with that same man who was with her this morning at the scene of the wreck.”
“The cowboy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t tell me they rode off into the sunset on a couple of palominos.”
“They left in his pickup truck, but he’s not just a cowboy. He’s one of the richest ranchers in Texas.”
“What’s his name?”
“Tague Lambert.”
So his wife had taken up with a cowboy. That surprised him almost as much as her giving up on Hollywood had. Not that she could act, but she looked great on the big screen. A lot of actresses had made it big on less.
“Locate my ex-wife or heads will roll, starting with yours.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you find her, call me. I’ll take over from there. It’s time to let the dogs out.”
When he was through with her, she’d beg to come home. Right up to her dying breath.
* * *
NIGHT WAS AT its blackest when Tague roused from a restless sleep. No silvery moon rays angled across his bed, and thunder rumbled like discordant drums. But thunderstorms were common in July and wouldn’t explain the vague apprehension that had crept into his subconscious and forced him awake.
He’d been dreaming. Remnants skulked into his consciousness. Alexis had been in the dream. Only she’d had dark hair. She’d been running along the muddy banks of a bayou with alligators nipping at her heels like attack dogs.
He’d tried to catch up with her, but no matter how fast he ran, the distance between them increased.
The dream fragments continued to coalesce. And then the truth slammed into him and Tague knew exactly who Alexis Beranger reminded him of.
She’d been in a movie he’d watched a few weeks ago when he couldn’t get to sleep. Most of the movie had been shot in a swamp. The acting was shoddy, the plot convoluted, the ending contrived.
But the female lead had been spellbinding. Beautiful. Seductive. Hypnotic eyes.
Other than their hair, the star and Alexis looked enough alike to be twins.
Wide-awake now, Tague threw his bare legs over the side of the bed, walked to his desk in his boxers and clicked the mouse. The monitor lit up displaying his home page.
Within minutes he’d discovered the name of the starlet from the movie.
Melinda Ryan.
He scrolled the entries quickly, then double-clicked on one that created a knot in the pit of his stomach.
Melinda Ryan, wife of famed movie director Scott Jeffery Hayden, suspected in the disappearance of her eighteen-month-old stepson, Jeffery Thomas Hayden.
The report was dated December 12 of last year. Seven months ago.
Once he started reading, he had a vague recollection of hearing this story mentioned on the nightly news. He’d figured it was just a publicity stunt at the time or an argument between a couple of Hollywood types.
Apparently, it had been much more.
With each new detail, Tague grew more alarmed.
Melinda Ryan Hayden. Age 25.
Actress and fourth wife of Scott Jeffery Hayden.
Suspected of kidnapping her stepson from their Southern California home after setting their home on fire.
Scott Hayden and the servants barely escaped with their lives. Melinda had been previously hospitalized for an emotional breakdown after going after her husband with a saber.
Mr. Hayden had gone on nationwide TV to plead for his wife to come home with the child or at least let him know the baby was safe.
There was no mention that the famed director had ever been reported for abusing anyone.
Tague finished that article and went on to others, interspersing the updates with sites showing photos of Melinda. The pictures spanned her short acting career and her life as the wife of the Scott Jeffery Hayden.
One photo was of Melinda, Scott and his late wife Lena Fox frolicking at the beach behind his Malibu estate. Melinda had her arm around Lena’s neck as if they were fast friends. There was another of Melinda and Lena taken mere days before Lena died from an overdose of sleeping medication and antidepressants. Lena looked pale and reed thin. Melinda was holding Tommy.
Tense and trying hard not to jump to the obvious conclusion that he was harboring a fugitive, Tague scrutinized each photo. There was a striking resemblance between Melinda and the woman who called herself Alexis Beranger. But there were notable dissimilarities, too.
Melinda Ryan’s hair was coal-black and curly. Alexis’s was blond and straight. A little peroxide and a hair-straightening product could have produced that change.
In most—but not all—of the photos, Melinda’s lips seemed fuller and more pronounced. Airbrushing or a cosmetic treatment could explain that.
Melinda’s eyes were black as onyx. Alexis’s were a bluish-orchid. Both were mesmerizing. A pair of contacts could provide instant change in eye color.
A bolt of lightning zigzagged across the room and the electric current blinked off and then back on again. Tague paced the room while the computer rebooted, unplugging it to rely on battery power as the storm intensified.
Nothing he’d seen or read proved that Melinda Ryan and Alexis Beranger were one and the same. But nothing contradicted it, either.
If they were, it explained a lot of things that had made no sense before.
Like Alexis’s desire to leave the scene of the wreck today without talking to the cops. Like her concern over exactly how long it would take to identify the fingerprints in her car.
Like the speed with which she’d cleared everything out of her apartment and the fact that she had no intention of hanging around the Dallas area.
But the fear when the carjacker had Tommy and again when she’d gotten that phone call tonight had been real. He’d stake his best branding iron on that.
She loved Tommy, and he wasn’t in danger from her—at least not at the moment. But Tague didn’t know much about mental illness, and he’d been around Alexis for less than a day. Who was he to say she was harmless?
But he just could not see Alexis setting a house on fire with her husband and her servants inside.
Rain was pelting the window by the time his computer was back up and running. He didn’t bother to touch the mouse. He’d read and seen enough. Now it was time for answers from a woman who may have been playing him like a fiddle in a Texas dance band.
She’d have to do some pretty strong convincing to keep him from calling Sheriff Garcia to check out Tague’s suspicions.
If Alexis was Melinda Ryan, then she’d go to jail and Tommy would be returned to his father.
Conflicting emotions banged around inside Tague like short-wick firecrackers on the Fourth of July. He pulled on his jeans and started the long walk to the guest suite. This was one discussion that couldn’t wait until daybreak.
Lightning created a fireworks show and a clap of thunder rattled the shutters. Tague figured that was only a preview of the explosion about to shake this house.
This time when he reached Alexis’s room, he didn’t bother to knock. He turned the knob, swung open the door and stepped inside.
In spite of the raging storm, she was fast asleep. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic, her arms hugging a pillow to her chest. Her hair was dry now and it spread over the pillow beneath her head like a golden halo.
His resolve twisted inside him like a gnarled rope. If she was Melinda Ryan, how could she possibly look so beguiling and so damn innocent?
A bolt of lightning lit the room with streaks of neonlike illumination. Alexis jerked awake as the accompanying blast of thunder struck.
When she saw Tague, she jerked to a sitting position and pulled the covers to her neck. “What do you want?” she demanded, as she flicked on the lamp by her bed. “Why are you here?”
“That’s exactly what I was about to ask you, Mrs. Scott Jeffery Hayden.”