by Kate Pearce
She was shaking so hard with the desire to smack John in his stupid smiling face. He wasn’t the first person to make the same assumptions, and he probably wouldn’t be the last. She’d learned to smile and ignore such people, but sometimes it was hard. It was a good thing they hadn’t been in her kitchen within reach of her favorite cast-iron pans and knives....
She and Priscilla led the way into the kitchen, where she hoped her team was working away. She held open the door to let Priscilla go past her and turned just in time to see Rio nose to nose with John, his finger jabbing the other guy in the chest as he shoved him up against the wall.
“You want to talk about someone’s heritage? Why don’t you show what a complete asshole you are, and ask about mine?”
“Rio . . .” Yvonne took a step toward him.
Rio gave John one last icy glare. “Keep your outdated opinions to yourself in future, okay?”
John put his hands up as if he was surrendering. “Sure . . . I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I was just making a suggestion.”
“Then don’t.” Rio looked over at Yvonne, his expression like granite. “Do you want to call this whole thing off? I’ll back you one hundred percent if you do.”
“It’s okay.” She offered him a smile. “It’s not exactly the first time I’ve heard it.”
“Me neither, but that isn’t an excuse.” Rio motioned for John to follow Priscilla into the kitchen, and lingered beside Yvonne. “You okay?”
“Yes, thanks for standing up for me.”
He brushed his thumb over her lips. “You’re welcome.”
John would probably return to his employer and immediately pull the plug on any reality show ever involving her. In fact, she was surprised he hadn’t walked out already. Yvonne was at peace with it. Being asked to falsify her heritage just to increase ratings wasn’t her thing. Her only surprise was that John hadn’t gotten back in Rio’s face. He’d capitulated really easily, but then he would have the pleasure of nixing the show.
He must really love the PBR. . . .
“Yeah, so the kitchen is great, lots of light and space in here,” John was saying heartily. “I just wish you could expand the front-end.”
“You and me both,” Yvonne said.
John turned to Rio. “Have you considered investing in this?”
Yvonne hastened to intervene. “Why would he? He’s just my business adviser. He doesn’t take a share of my profit or anything.”
“Er . . . okay.” John looked confused, his gaze sliding from her to Rio. Yvonne wondered exactly what Priscilla had told him about their relationship.
“Shall we go back to the café?” Yvonne suggested. “We still haven’t had our coffee.”
John was typing notes into his phone. “I think I’m good, actually. If Rio is okay with this venture, then I’m hardly going to argue with him, am I?”
“Why not?” Yvonne paused by the kitchen door to look back at him.
“Disagree with the boss’s son?” John laughed rather unconvincingly. “Not happening. I like my job too much.”
“I don’t understand.” Yvonne noticed that Rio had gone very still. “Who owns Howatch International?”
“Graham Howatch.” John looked from her to Priscilla as he continued to walk through to the front of the café. “You said she’d met him in San Francisco?”
Priscilla frowned. “It was certainly mentioned in the latest notes.”
John smiled. “Thought I was right. I’m going to liaise with Mr. Howatch at the hotel after this meeting, so I’ll give him your best.” He nodded warily at Rio, and then shook Yvonne’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
She didn’t say anything as he shook her hand, and departed with Priscilla, who gave one longing look back at the pastries in the glass cabinet.
Yvonne let them leave and then pointed at Rio. “May I speak to you for a moment, please?”
She walked back into the hallway that separated the kitchen from the outer door, and made sure both doors were closed.
“Your father owns Howatch International?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the company he wants you to take over?”
Rio nodded.
“He must be a fricking billionaire! Why didn’t you tell me?”
A crease appeared on his brow. “Which part?”
“That your father not only owns Tasty Treats, but is contemplating financing Paul’s restaurants!”
“One, that’s the first I’ve heard about him owning a controlling share of Tasty Treats. He oversees over five hundred business interests worldwide. I doubt he knows all of them by name. Two, I only just found out myself that he’s behind Paul’s potential empire.”
“I thought John was overawed by you because he was into the PBR!”
Rio’s mouth quirked up at the corner and he quickly suppressed it. “Really?”
Yvonne pushed a hand through her now-disheveled hair and briefly considered screaming like a banshee.
“I know this is all messed up, but I genuinely didn’t know that my father had any involvement in Tasty Treats until now,” Rio said softly.
“Okay.”
“There’s something else I need to talk to you about,” Rio continued.
She forced herself to focus on his face.
“Before I lost my temper with you the other night, I should have let you explain.”
“Explain what?”
“Your current relationship with Paul. Whatever it is, it’s your own business and has nothing to do with me. Infidelity is a bit of an issue for me.” He took his hat off and twirled the brim through his fingers. “And I was . . . hurt that you hadn’t confided in me.”
“Even though we’d both agreed we’d just have sex with none of the unnecessary entanglements?”
“Yes, even though.” He met her gaze, his brown eyes steady.
“I don’t owe you an explanation for anything,” Yvonne said.
“You’re right, you don’t, and I’m not asking you for one.”
A curious sense of disappointment flooded through her. Here she was, offering him all kinds of opportunities to disagree with her, and tell her how he really felt, and he kept failing them.
“Okay, then.”
“Is that all you have to say?” Rio asked cautiously.
“What would you like me to say?”
“That you at least forgive me for getting mad?”
“Of course, I forgive you.” She finally found a smile. “We’re friends, aren’t we? And thanks for helping me out in there.”
She half turned away so that he wouldn’t see how close she was to crying. Nothing had changed. He was still leaving, and it would be better for both of them if he went away not knowing how close she’d come to trying to make him stay. It hadn’t worked with Paul, and she wasn’t going to break her heart again trying to make a man stay when he’d just resent her for it.
“You’d better go find Josie,” she said brightly. “She’ll be wondering where you’ve gotten to by now.”
He caught her elbow. “Yvonne . . .”
“Did John say your father is at the Hayes Hotel? How on earth did he end up there?”
Was she babbling now? Was she too much of a coward to risk looking at him for too long in case she blurted out something pathetic like don’t leave me?
“He arrived last night by helicopter at Morgan Ranch. I didn’t know he’d hung around until now either. Look—”
“Paul’s there as well.”
“So?”
“If Paul works out whom your father is—and knowing how chatty the Hayes family are, he probably will—then Paul will be sucking up to him like crazy.”
“You’ve met my father. He’s not going to fall for Paul’s brand of suck-upage.”
“Suck-upage? Did you just make that up?”
“It seemed appropriate.” Rio shrugged. He was still holding on to her. “Are you going to keep this up?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talkin
g about.” Yvonne stared hard at the kitchen door.
“Not looking at me, not—letting me in.”
“I’m just being practical.”
“Then why are you still so upset?”
“Because everything in my world is upside-down crazy at the moment, okay?”
His face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m not helping much, am I?” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “How about we wait until my father and Paul have gone back to wherever hellholes they came from, and then sort out our stuff, okay?”
“What stuff?” she whispered.
“This.”
He bent his head and kissed her until she kissed him back. She balled her hands into fists at her sides to stop her grabbing hold of him and never letting go.
When he finally lifted his head, all she could do was stare helplessly into his eyes.
“See?” He smiled down at her. “We can both say anything we want to deny it, but there’s something between us. Something neither of us can ignore.” He kissed her again. “I know things are a mess, and that we both have issues to sort out, querida, but I’m not giving up on this, or on you, just yet.”
“Okay.”
He stepped back and put his hat back on. “Stay strong.” He blew her a kiss and went back through to the café.
Yvonne rolled her eyes at his departing form. She was strong. She’d let him walk away from her. She’d keep doing it until he went back to defend his stupid championship and forgot all about her.
Which would be much easier if he would just stop kissing her, and telling her everything was going to be all right....
She risked a glance into both the kitchen and the café to check everything was going well and then went upstairs. She had a shrewd idea what querida meant, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t Google it anyway.
Chapter Nineteen
Yvonne rolled over onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling. She had a sense that she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight—what with worrying about Paul, and the TV show, and Rio . . .
Rio hadn’t walked away from her yet. In fact, he’d indicated that he still had things to say that would wait until she’d sorted out her other problems. Did she want to hear what he had to say? She has a sneaking suspicion that, despite everything, she did.
What if he saw a future for them together?
She tried to imagine that, and ended up smiling foolishly in the darkness before sitting bolt upright in bed. She was way too into him. Not just because he was a hot and sexy man who made her see stars in bed, but also because he was a good person. A man who tried to stay true to what he believed in. A man who loved his mother and sister and was loyal to a fault.
And the son of a billionaire.
Yvonne groaned. She was never going to get back to sleep now. She picked up her cell phone and noticed a text message from Chase Morgan.
Attached: confirmation that your divorce petition has cleared the French courts.Asked my international lawyers to hasten it along for you.
Best. Chase.
Her divorce settlement?
Yvonne clicked on the attachment. In all the recent excitement, she’d forgotten to check back with Chase to see what he could find out from the French authorities about the status of the divorce petition. She read through the document and then sent it to print, jumping out of bed for a quick wash while it whirred through her old printer. Paul had to have known about this . . .
Fueled by rage, she pulled on a pair of leggings, and a long sweater, and slid her bare feet into the first pair of sandals she came across in her closet. It was only nine-thirty in the evening. She reckoned her prey would still be awake, and hopefully not expecting her.
* * *
Rio closed his bedroom door and crossed over to the open window. The old barn was a grey silhouette in the gathering darkness, and the sweet scents of lavender, and the other herbs January grew in the yard, danced and perfumed the slight breeze. It was too early to sleep, and he’d done all the chores he could find—including putting the chickens away for the night—which Chase hated doing.
He let out his breath. Had he made any headway with Yvonne, or had all the revelations about his father’s business interests driven her even further away from him? At least she was still talking to him. . . .
And she’d kissed him back and hadn’t told him to take a hike when he’d suggested they weren’t done....
There still remained the small matter of Paul and her potential TV show. He knew in his soul that the chance of her staying with the Frenchman was nonexistent. She’d gotten over the idiot, which was good because he didn’t think anyone else could love her the way he would.
He banged his head against the old glass-paned window. Yeah. There was no point denying it any longer. Any woman who could tie him up in knots, make him lose his temper, and still make him want to fall at her feet and worship her was definitely the one.
Now all he had to do was find a way to tell her that. He had a sense that all the other issues—her work, his current profession, and all the other everyday stuff—were doable and fixable if they were both in it together. He was going to have to be brave, step up, and tell her how he felt.
He checked the time and realized it was almost nine, about when Yvonne went to bed. He didn’t want to rush down there and disturb her sleep. Getting it right, saying what he meant needed time and space. He could wait another day. His father and Paul were supposedly leaving tomorrow as well.
After that, he and Yvonne would talk. He closed the window and drew the drapes. Now all he had to do was find a way to sleep through the night. His gaze fell on the folder his father had given him about Paul’s business venture. If anything would put him to sleep, that would probably be it.
He kicked off his boots and lay down on his bed, the folder by his side, and started to read. Five minutes in, he stopped and carefully reread the last few paragraphs of the private investigator’s report.
“Filho da puta,” Rio cursed softly. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and hurried to put on his boots again. His night was about to get a lot more exciting than he had envisioned.
* * *
Yvonne arrived at the reception desk of the Hayes Hotel brandishing her printout and possibly, judging from Marley’s startled expression, breathing actual fire.
“I need to speak to Paul Giresse.”
Marley tapped away at her keyboard. “Is he expecting you?”
“I damn well hope not.”
“Then I should probably call, and let him know you’re in the lobby, okay?” Marley said brightly and looked hopefully at Yvonne.
“Sure, whatever you need to do. I’ll wait.”
Yvonne turned away and paced the polished wooden floor of the lobby from the bar and back to the entrance of the dining room, which was also open to the public for lunch and dinner. The smell of roast beef and stewed apples flavored the air, making her stomach gurgle.
As she made her third circle past the bar, an all-too-familiar laugh rang out, and she tensed.
“Yvonne?” Marley called out. “Mr. Giresse isn’t answering his phone. He might be in the dining room, or he’s gone out somewhere for the evening.”
“Don’t worry.” Yvonne smiled through her teeth. Paul wouldn’t be laughing for much longer. “I think I’ve found him.”
She marched into the bar, nodded at Mr. Hayes, who always worked the evening shift, and kept moving until she discovered Paul sitting in a booth opposite another familiar face.
“Paul.” She fixed him with her best intimidating stare. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”
He half rose to his feet, his fair skin flushing. “Bonsoir, Yvonne. Have you met Mr. Graham Howatch?”
“Yes, we’ve met.” Yvonne offered Rio’s father a polite smile. “What brings you to Morgantown, Graham? Protecting your investments?”
“I actually stopped off to deliver some information to my son.” Graham didn’t look at all fazed by her sudden appearance. “Have you seen
him today?”
“I saw him.” Yvonne nodded. “I didn’t realize he’d taken his mother’s last name instead of yours.”
“Come on, Yvonne,” Paul interjected with a laugh. “You must have known who ‘Rio’ was. It took me a couple of seconds on the web to work it out.”
“Only because I gave you a honking great clue where to start.” She took a quick breath. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, Paul. I’m sure Graham won’t mind if I borrow you for a few minutes.”
“And I’d like to talk to both of them.” Rio’s voice sounded behind her and she jumped. How come he got to turn up like the cavalry just at the right moment? Not that she wasn’t extremely glad to see him. . . . “Maybe we can find somewhere more private?”
“Good evening, Aurelio.” Graham rose slowly to his feet. “I’m so glad you decided to join us.”
“You might change your mind about that shortly,” Rio said as he squeezed Yvonne’s shoulder. “Let’s check in with Marley, and find a usable space.”
Yvonne hesitated as Paul slid out of his seat, and docilely followed Rio out the door. He wasn’t going to make a fuss as long as the billionaire who could further his career was in his orbit. Graham paused as he came out of the booth, stumbled, and hung on to the back of the seat. On impulse Yvonne offered him her arm, and to her surprise, he took it.
“Thank you, my dear.”
He actually had to lean on her to make any progress. She slowed her pace and followed Rio and Paul down to one of the offices through the back hallway. The only sound was her companion’s labored breathing. Rio hadn’t mentioned that his father was ill. It was possible he hadn’t even noticed.
Inside the room, she guided Graham into the nearest chair and closed the door behind them.
She and Rio both started talking at the same time, and Graham held up his hand.
“Aurelio, where are your manners? Perhaps you might allow Yvonne to speak first?”
Yvonne glanced over at Rio, who was grim faced and practically vibrating.
“What I have to say concerns Yvonne,” Rio snapped. “She might wish to hear it.”