by Heidi Betts
He hadn’t exactly helped alleviate that stress, either, had he? No, he’d added to it in every possible way from the moment she’d walked into his home.
With good reason, he’d thought at the time. But not such good reason now that he knew she wasn’t quite the conniving witch he’d made her out to be.
“At the very least,” he intoned, “I’d say you owe me one.”
She stared at him with eyes gone dull with wariness. “Owe you one…what?”
Rather than answer that question directly, he shrugged a shoulder and finally reached out to take her hand. “I’ve got something in mind. In the meantime I think we should get out of here. The jet is waiting, and your parents will probably be back soon.”
With more familiarity than he thought she realized she was showing, she grabbed his wrist and turned it to glance at the face of his watch.
“You’re right, we should go.”
She didn’t look any happier about leaving than she had when they’d arrived.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find what we came here for,” she muttered softly as they headed for the garage’s service door.
“That’s okay.” He let her pass first, then followed, closing and locking the door behind them. “I know just how you’ll make it up to me.”
Thirteen
Though she asked a handful of times on the flight home exactly how Alex expected her to “make it up to him,” he wouldn’t give her so much as a hint of his plans. Rather than put her out of her misery, he merely smiled a cruel and wicked smile and let her squirm.
Hmph. He was probably enjoying her suffering. He probably didn’t have a single clue yet what he was going to ask of her as so-called “repayment”—he just liked having her dangle like a little worm at the end of his hook.
And there was nothing she could do about it. She was at his mercy.
Hunched in the plush leather window seat, the sound of engines roaring in the background, she tried to hold on to her indignation and put on a full pout. The only problem was, she’d never been much of the pouting type. She also knew she deserved a bit of payback for what she’d done to Alex, both the intentional and the unintentional.
That didn’t mean she was going to let him walk all over her. If he said he wanted her to assassinate the president or be his sex slave for a month, she’d know he was a crazy person and wasn’t as interested in compensation as simply using and abusing her. But if he just wanted her to eat a little crow, she would do her best to sprinkle it with seasoning and choke it down.
Twenty minutes later the plane landed, and Alex accompanied her onto the tarmac and straight to the shiny black Lexus waiting for them. A private airstrip employee opened the passenger-side door, waiting for her to slide inside before rounding the hood and handing the keys to Alex.
They rode in silence until Jessica realized they weren’t headed for Alex’s estate. At first she thought she just wasn’t familiar enough with the area. And then that he was taking a shortcut…except that it turned out to be a long cut. She remembered the route they’d taken from the house to the airport, and this wasn’t the reverse of that.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked, finding her voice for the first time in more than an hour.
“You’ll see,” was all he said, strong fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.
She didn’t sigh, at least not aloud. But she did sit up straighter, fiddling with the safety strap crossing her chest while she studied each of the street signs and storefronts as they passed.
Before long, he slowed, easing effortlessly into a parking space in front of a shop called Hot Couture. Sliding out of the car, he came around, opened her door and pulled her up by the hand.
She began to ask again where they were going, but bit down on her tongue before she started to sound like a broken record. He led her across the wide sidewalk and inside the upscale boutique.
Okay, she had to say something. “What are we doing here?”
Everywhere she looked, headless size-zero mannequins were draped in costly bolts of silk, satin, sequins and a dozen other expensive materials she couldn’t begin to identify. She’d been away from this sort of extravagance for too long…and hadn’t cared for it all that much when she’d been expected to wear gowns like these on a regular basis.
“This is Step One of your penance,” he told her as they were approached by a saleswoman who looked as though she’d had her facial features lifted one too many times. Her eyes were a tad too wide, her brows a tad too high, her lips a tad too pursed.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted them, focusing her attention much more firmly on Alex than on Jessica. With good reason—Alex looked like every one of the million-plus dollars he was worth, while Jessica was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a stylish but nondesigner top. They were Daddy Warbucks and Little Orphan Annie…Richard Gere and Julia Roberts…the Prince and the Pauperette.
She rubbed her palms nervously on the legs of her jeans. “This isn’t necessary, Alex,” she murmured so that only he could hear.
At full volume, he replied, “Yes, it is.” Then to the other woman, “We need a gown for a very important gala fundraiser. Shoes and handbag, as well.”
The woman looked positively giddy at the prospect of a large commission.
“Alex…” Jessica began.
“I’ll take care of the jewelry,” he said over the beginning of her protests.
“What kind of fundraiser?” she asked, wanting to know at least that much before she began trying on a year’s worth of dresses in the next couple of hours.
“Sparkling Diamonds,” he said, naming the well-known charitable organization founded and run by Washington State’s most notable jewelers. Since its inception only a few years ago, Sparkling Diamonds had raised hundreds of thousands of dollars to support a variety of worthwhile causes, from childhood cancer to local animal shelters.
“Tuesday night’s benefit is being sponsored solely by Bajoran Designs. Some of Seattle’s deepest pockets will be there, and we want to rake in as much as possible for this year’s literacy campaign. I was planning to go stag, but now that you’re here and—as we established—owe me one,” he tacked on with an uncharacteristic wink, “you can be my plus-one.”
Jessica wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. Getting dressed up and going to a swanky party with Alex? Hanging on his arm all night with a smile on her face while they mingled with people who might recognize her as a Taylor Fine Jewels Taylor? Oh, the rumor mills would be rife with chatter after that. Word might even get back to her parents.
She thought she might prefer to undergo an extra hot bikini wax. But then, she didn’t have much of a choice, did she? And after her conversation with Erin, the cat was pretty much out of the bag, anyway.
“Literacy is important,” she said by way of answer.
“Yes,” he agreed, rare amusement glittering in his too-blue eyes, “it is. The event is also a chance to show off a few of the company’s latest designs. Ones we’ve been unveiling instead of the Princess Line.”
There it was. Knife inserted and twisted forty degrees clockwise. It pinched, just as he’d known it would.
“You’ll be wearing the most significant pieces. Yellow gold and diamonds, so they’ll go with almost anything.”
Turning his attention back to the saleslady, he said, “I want her to look absolutely stunning. Find a dress that showcases her natural beauty.”
Inside her chest, Jessica’s heart fluttered, heat unfurling just below the surface of her skin. If she weren’t fully aware of the situation and where each of them stood, it would be all too easy to be flattered by that comment. After all, Alex was a very charming man. Isn’t that how she’d ended up in bed with him in the first place?
But he wasn’t trying to be charming. He wanted her dressed up and pretty to impress donors at his charity event. She was sorely out of practice, but that was something she could definitely do.
“Yes, sir,” the woman re
plied, money signs glowing in her eyes along with her wide smile.
Jessica followed her silently to the rear of the store, listening with only half an ear to the older woman’s cheerful chatter. Leaving Jessica in the changing room to strip, she went in search of gowns that would meet Alex’s high standards.
An hour later, Jessica felt like a quick-change artist. She was tired and out of sorts, and just wanted to get home to see Henry.
She’d tried on so many dresses, she couldn’t remember them all. After viewing the first few, even Alex had seemed to lose interest. He’d made low, noncommittal noises, then told her he trusted her to make a final decision before wandering off to talk on his cell phone.
Another six or eight gowns later, Jessica was pretty sure she’d found one that would pass muster. It was hard to be sure how anything would look with the jewelry he had in mind, since she hadn’t actually seen the pieces for herself, but he’d described them briefly and she did her best to imagine them with each of the gowns she modeled.
She needed just the right color, just the right neckline. Just enough sparkle to shine, but not outshine the jewelry itself.
She’d forgotten how stressful the whole socialite thing could be. There was a reason she hadn’t missed it. Much.
It didn’t help, either, that her performance needed to be perfect this time. It wasn’t just a public appearance or a high-priced fundraiser. It was one of her only options for redemption with Alex and getting into his good graces. There was still so much he could hold against her. So many ways he could punish her, if he so desired.
Licking her dry lips, she finished putting on her street clothes, then carried the gown she’d decided on—albeit uncertainly—out of the dressing room.
“We’ll take this one,” she told the sales lady.
“Excellent choice,” the woman agreed, taking the gown and carrying it to the counter.
Jessica was pretty sure she’d have said the same thing about a gunny sack, as long as Alex was willing to pay a high four figures for it.
A few minutes, later she had shoes and a matching clutch, all of it wrapped up with tissue paper in pretty boutique boxes, ready to go. When the sales woman recited the total, Jessica’s eyes just about bugged out of her head and her throat started to close.
It was almost as though she was having an allergic reaction to spending so much money for one night out on the town. She had half a notion to tell Alex that if everybody who planned to attend the fundraiser would simply donate the amount they would have spent on getting dressed up for the evening, they wouldn’t need to hold the event at all.
It had been a long time since she’d poured money like that into anything that couldn’t be eaten, driven or lived in, but the outrageous total wouldn’t make a man like Alex so much as blink.
As though to prove her point, he seemed to appear out of nowhere, passing his platinum card to the clerk over her shoulder.
The sales woman flashed a delighted grin. Thirty seconds later, Alex and Jessica were headed back to the car, expensive packages in tow.
“You found something you like, I take it?” he said once they were on the road again, finally on their way to his estate.
A knot of eager anticipation tightened in her stomach. She couldn’t wait to get there and see her baby. They’d only been gone a day—not even a full day, really—but she wasn’t used to being away from him. She’d missed him and wanted to see how he’d fared with the nanny Alex had hired—possibly on a permanent basis.
“Yes,” she responded, trying to keep her mind focused on the conversation rather than the fact that Alex was driving the speed limit. He could have gone a few miles over without risking a ticket, for heaven’s sake.
“I hope it’s all right. It was hard to pick something to go with the jewelry you have in mind when I couldn’t actually try them on together.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. The fundraiser starts at eight. Dinner will be served around nine-fifteen. Can you be ready to leave by seven?”
“Of course.” It wasn’t as though she had anything else to do or anywhere else to be aside from wandering around Alex’s enormous house and spending time with Henry. She could be ready by seven o’clock tonight, if he needed her to be.
And in a way, she wished they were attending the charity function tonight. At least then it would be over and she wouldn’t have to spend the next day and a half dreading the evening to come.
* * *
Alex stood in his den, one hand braced against the mantle of the carved marble fireplace, the other slowly swirling the ice cubes in his glass of scotch. He studied the empty hearth, lost in thought.
Jessica would be down soon to leave for the Sparkling Diamonds fundraiser. How the evening would proceed wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, but Jessica certainly was.
After discovering that she wasn’t the mastermind behind the theft of the Princess Line designs, he’d begun to wonder what else he might have been wrong about where she was concerned. Could she be telling the truth about everything?
She wasn’t one hundred percent innocent, that was for sure. But for each wrongdoing he knew about or had accused her of, she’d come clean.
So what if she was also telling the truth about Henry being his son? He hoped she was, actually. It was a can of worms just waiting to be opened, but having Jessica and the baby under his roof had turned out to be a unique and surprisingly enjoyable experience.
He was just as attracted to Jessica now as he had been the first time he saw her. No matter what had happened in the year since, he still wanted her. His mouth still went dry the minute she walked into the room. His fingers still itched to stroke her skin and peel the clothes off her warm, pliant body.
And the baby…well, he’d been more than a little put off at first, but now he had to admit he was quite smitten. It was hard as hell to wear a mask of indifference, waiting to find out for sure whether or not Henry was his son. Not when he spent every day wanting to shed his suit and get down on the floor to tickle the baby’s belly, dangle brightly colored plastic keys or play hide-and-seek behind his own hands just to hear the little boy giggle.
Then at night he lay in his big king-size bed imagining Jessica down the hall, sleeping alone. More than once he’d nearly tossed back the covers and marched over to join her…or drag her back to sleep with him. Not that he had any intention of letting her fall asleep.
Pushing away from the fireplace, he crossed to his desk, setting aside his drink to flip open the file he’d read once before. He needed time to digest the information inside, figure out exactly what to do about it. But even as he rolled it over in his head, he looked the papers over again and was just as stunned and sickened as he’d been when he’d first seen them.
Jessica had mentioned that her cousin blamed him for the Taylors being driven out of business with Bajoran Designs. To his knowledge the decision had been mutually arrived at by the individual heads of each company. At the time that had been Jessica’s father as CEO and her uncle—Erin’s father, as it turned out—as CFO on the Taylor Fine Jewels side, and Alex’s father as CEO and Alex’s uncle as CFO on the Bajoran Designs side.
Both companies had been started separately by brothers—Alex’s and Jessica’s grandfathers and great-uncles. Then they’d joined together because all four brothers had met, formed a strong bond of friendship and thought Fate was trying to tell them something. And it had been a wonderful, very lucrative partnership for many years.
As far as Alex knew, the Taylors had simply decided to go back to being a separate business. His father had assured him the split was amicable and that everything had been taken care of before he’d retired and Alex had taken his place.
Of course what Alex and his family had learned only after his father had stepped down, and a few months before his death, was that the elder Bajoran’s memory had started to slip. From the moment Alex had taken over the role of CEO, he’d been putting out small fires that his father had unintentionall
y set ablaze.
This, though…this wasn’t a small fire, it was a damn inferno.
Oh, nothing that would harm Bajoran Designs. On the contrary, Bajoran Designs had come out miles upon miles above Taylor Fine Jewels.
But that made Alex far from happy. The bottom line was not more important to him than honor, integrity and proper business ethics. He didn’t feel good about the fact that they’d apparently forced the Taylors out of the partnership and probably screwed them out of millions in profits.
The question now became who was responsible for that turn of events. It wasn’t his father. The man might not be here to defend himself or even question, but Alex knew in his bones that his father would never have done something like that. Not to a business partner, and especially not to one he also considered a friend.
He highly doubted it had been his uncle, either. The two brothers were cut from the same cloth—honest and trustworthy to a fault.
The company investigators he’d put on the case had turned up these initial records fairly quickly, but they hadn’t yet tracked down the name of the person who had put this ball in motion. He expected the information to come through any day now, and then he would have to deal with it.
But that was business. Jessica was personal, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about her or the way this information impacted her, as well as the rest of her family.
At the very least an apology was in order, even though he’d awakened that morning thinking she still owed him one.
A soft tap at his office door had him straightening up, closing the file and slipping it into one of the desk drawers for safekeeping. Then, clearing his throat, he called, “Come in.”
Mrs. Sheppard poked her head in and said, “Miss Taylor asked me to tell you she’s ready and waiting in the foyer.”
“Thank you.”
The nanny—who was turning out to be an excellent choice, despite Jessica’s original protests—was already upstairs with Henry, and his driver had been sitting outside in the limo for the past half hour. Grabbing the jewelry box he’d brought home with him that afternoon and the lightweight camel hair coat he’d had special ordered for Jessica for this evening, he headed toward the front of the house, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous emptiness.