by Ginna Gray
Evan looked him over as though he were a particularly repulsive form of vermin, but he did not deign to answer. Instead be took a step forward, only to be brought to an abrupt halt when Travis shifted and grasped the door frame. The other man glanced pointedly at the arm stretched across the doorway, barring his entrance. "Do you mind?" he said with the cold hauteur of one who is accustomed to being obeyed.
"Me? Naw, I don't mind," Travis drawled, but Rebecca heard the steel in his voice. "But then, it's not up to me, is it?" He looked over his shoulder, one blond eyebrow cocked. "Rebecca?"
Yes! Yes, I mind!
Her every instinct screamed the answer. She had only to say the word and Travis would send him away. Evan wouldn't accept the decision gracefully—there might even be a physical clash—but she had every confidence that Travis would prevail. She pressed her lips together to stop them from quivering. Temptation clawed at her.
In her heart, though, she knew that that was the coward's way out. In any event, it would solve nothing. From the beginning she had known that she would eventually have to face Evan. But, heaven help her, she had hoped for more time.
The words almost choked her, but in an unsteady voice she finally managed to reply, "Th-That's all right, Travis. You may let him in."
With obvious reluctance, Travis removed his hand from the door frame and stepped inside.
Evan shot him a contemptuous look and walked past him into the living room. "How kind of you, darling. Seeing as how I've come all this way just to see you, I would have been... hurt... had you turned me away.''
"Now there's a pity," Travis muttered.
Rebecca's heart skipped a beat. Subtle as it had been, she caught the threat in his words.
Despite the island breezes, not a strand of Evan's dark brown hair was out of place, nor did so much as a grain of sand cling to his handmade Italian shoes or his tailored suit. His silk tie, knotted to perfection, lay in precision alignment between the crisp collar points of his Egyptian cotton shirt. He appeared calm and unruffled, the picture of urban sophistication.
Rebecca shivered. She wasn't fooled; she knew that he was furious. Just as she knew what that cold smite and ul-trapolite tone always presaged.
"I must say, though, I am surprised. I didn't expect to find you with another man. Surely this...this...person isn't the reason you left me so precipitously?"
"You know perfectly well why I left, Evan. And why I divorced you," she added in a shaky but determined voice.
She would not allow him to conveniently ignore that fact. "It had nothing to do with anyone else, so don't try to shift the blame."
"I don't mind," Travis interjected cheerfully, earning himself an irritated glance. Otherwise Evan ignored him.
"Oh, don't worry, my dear. I know precisely who is responsible for this unpleasant episode."
The words sent a trickle of ice down Rebecca's spine. "Why are you here, Evan?"
"If you don't mind, I'd rather discuss that in private," he said, glancing pointedly at Travis.
"Hey. Don't mind me."
"Tell him to leave, Rebecca."
Travis did not budge. He had taken up a position a few feet from Rebecca, propped negligently against the back of a sofa, his arms folded over his chest. Keeping his gaze fixed on her ex-husband, he said, "You don't have to be alone with this guy, sweetheart. I'll stay if you want me to."
"This doesn't concern you," Evan stated, addressing Travis directly for the first time since entering the house. His voice now had a definite edge to it, his controlled facade beginning to show the first signs of fraying.
"I think that's for Rebecca to decide."
Evan's irate gaze swung to her. "Who is this man?"
"My name is McCall. Travis McCall. I'm a friend of Rebecca's."
"One she's picked up in the last few months, I assume, since I don't recall ever having met you. Honestly, Rebecca. Have you sunk to associating with a degenerate beach bum?"
"Actually, I've known Rebecca since she was five years old. We grew up together."
"You're from Crockett?" Surprised, Evan looked Travis over, taking in the disreputable sneakers, the holey jeans, the faded chambray shirt that had never seen an iron, and lastly, the long hair and the dangling saber earring. "Amazing. And I thought that hick town only produced country bumpkins."
It was not a compliment, but Travis grinned. "Thanks. I've been working out of state since college. I guess I've picked up some polish during my travels."
Anger replaced cool condescension. Evan stabbed Rebecca with a sharp look. "We have to talk, Rebecca. Privately."
She looked at Travis and caught her lower lip between her teeth.
"Do you want me to stay, sweetheart?'' he asked gently.
Yes! Oh, Lord, yes! Please don't leave me alone with him. The plea hovered on the tip of Rebecca's tongue, but she held it back. As much as she wanted Travis to stay, it wasn't fair or right to involve him in her problems. "Thank you, Travis, but I, uh... perhaps it would be best if I talked to Evan alone."
"You sure?"
No, I'm not sure. I'm not sure at all. But I have to do this. "Yes. I'll be fine. Don't worry."
Travis did not looked convinced. If anything, he looked disappointed—briefly, even a bit hurt—but he nodded and headed for the door. "I'll be down at the boathouse if you need me."
Through the glass panes of the French doors, Evan watched him cross the deck and lope down the steps. When he disappeared into the darkness, Rebecca's ex-husband turned back to her with a cold smile. "Very touching."
The quaking deep inside worsened. She felt as though she were about to fly apart at any second. Rebecca folded her arms across her midriff, holding herself tightly to control the trembling. She regretted the defensive posture, but she could not let Evan see how much he frightened her.
That was one of the things they had stressed at the crisis center. Never cower. Stand up for your rights. Refuse to be a victim. Bullies pick on those they think are weaker than they.
Swallowing the knot of fear in her throat, Rebecca lifted her chin. "How did you find me?''
"It wasn't easy." Evan's eyes narrowed, and she realized, too late, that it had been unwise to remind him of the trouble to which she had undoubtedly put him. "Your friends were most uncooperative. However, the detective I hired is the best in the business. From the beginning I knew you would turn to Erin and Elise for help when you got low on funds. It took my man a while, but he eventually learned about this place. I knew then that I'd find you here."
"Why did you bother? As I explained in my letter, the divorce is final, and I'm not asking anything from you, even though we both know that I could, since Texas is a community property state. All I want is my freedom, and the divorce granted me that. I can't see that we have anything to discuss."
"I didn't come here to talk. I came to take you home, where you belong."
Rebecca's eyes widened. The calm statement sent a fresh shaft of fear stabbing through her. She hugged her arms tighter and tried to battle against it.
Stay calm. Don't let him panic you. He has no power over you anymore.
"I'm not going anywhere with you, Evan. Didn't you hear a word I just said? The divorce is final. It's over between us. The marriage has ended."
He smiled and walked toward her. It took every ounce of will Rebecca- possessed to quell the urge to back away. Fear shimmered through her like shards of ice. Her shaking was visible now, but she managed, somehow, to hold her ground.
"That can and will be remedied by a quick ceremony as soon as we return to the States. Though I must say, I find the necessity of doing so exceedingly annoying." He stopped in front of her and smiled cruelly. "You didn't honestly think I would let a piece of paper stand in my way, did you? You are my wife, and you will remain my wife."
"Why?" Rebecca asked desperately. "Why would you want a woman who doesn't want you? You don't even love me, so what possible reason could you have?"
"Because you're mine. And
I hold on to what belongs to me. If our marriage ever ends it will be because I decide to end it, not you,'' he said in a feral snarl that made her jump.
Her reaction pleased him, and his cold smite returned. His tone became matter-of-fact, almost pleasant. "As it happens, at the moment the appearance of a stable marriage is important to my plans. You see, I've decided to run for Congress in the next election. A wife, particularly a beautiful, classy wife, is an asset when it comes to garnering votes. And make no mistake about it, I do intend to be the next Senator from Texas."
Every cell in Rebecca's body quivered. She was so frightened she could barely stand. As little as a year ago she would have crumbled under that veiled warning and hastened to agree with whatever he wanted. Anything to avert a violent explosion. The cowardly part of her was tempted to do so now, but she refused to give in to it.
Stand your ground. You 're free of him. He can't make you return.
Her heart was beating so hard it was almost suffocating her. Her breathing was shallow and painful. "Whatever your political ambitions are, you'll have to manage them without me," she said with quavery determination. "I'm not coming back.''
Evan's eyes narrowed. They glittered with rage. "Go pack you bags, Rebecca. Now!"
She jumped again. For an instant she thought she might faint, so great was her fright. Instead she drew a deep breath and did what a year ago would have been unthinkable; she defied him openly.
"No. No, I won't."
"You'll do as I say!"
Too late, Rebecca saw the blow coming. He raised his arm for a backhanded swing and brought it down with all his might. His hand struck the side of her face, the heavy diamond ring he wore smashed into the tender flesh at the corner of her eye. Pain exploded in her head.
The force of the powerful clout knocked her head to the side and sent her staggering backward. She slammed against the counter that divided the living room and kitchen, catching the edge in her ribs, but she didn't even feel the agonizing impact.
Whimpering, she put one hand over her injured face and clutched the edge of the counter with the other, hunching over the surface. Red-hot fingers of pain streaked through her skull. Her eye stung and her head reeled. Blood trickled warmly down her face. Already she could feel her cheek swelling. She felt sick to her stomach.
Shock and humiliation washed through her. For all her uneasiness and fear, she had not really believed that Evan would strike her—not there, with Travis so close by. Oh, God, she felt like such a fool.
She cried out as a rough hand grabbed her arm and jerked her around. Evan snatched her close and brought his nose down to within an inch of hers. The handsome, debonair man was gone. His eyes glittered viciously and his face was contorted and ugly with rage. "Maybe that will teach you to do as I say," he snarled. "You've got exactly ten minutes to get your things together. Otherwise, you'll get more of the same."
He shoved her away, sending her slamming back into the counter again. He looked coldly at her shattered expression, his own radiating cruelty and utter confidence.
Breathing hard, Rebecca steadied herself against the bar, and stared back at him. She thought of the nightmare that her six-year marriage had been. She thought of the courage and effort and careful planning it had, taken to escape and end it. She thought of the counseling she'd received from the doctors at the crisis center, the support from the other women there who were struggling to regain their dignity and put their lives back together. Had it all been for nothing?
No! Fight back! Don't let him do this to you anymore! You don't have to take it! ,
Her head moved slowly from side to side. "No, I won't."
Black fury screwed up Evan's face again, but before he could move, Rebecca darted around the end of the counter and into the kitchen. He was after her in a flash, but she snatched a wicked-looking butcher knife from a drawer and whirled to face him. "Stay back, Evan! Stay back! Or so help me, I'll use this."
He pulled up short, his expression shocked. It would have been almost comical had the situation not been so serious.
Recovering himself quickly, he sneered. "Oh, please. You don't actually expect me to believe you'd use that on me. You wouldn't dare." He took another step, but stopped abruptly when she jabbed the knife toward him.
"Oh-yes-I-would," she said between gritted teeth, in a voice that left not one doubt that she meant it. "You can count on it." She stood slightly crouched, tensed and ready, the knife gripped tightly in her hand and held in front of her, the picture of a desperate woman who had been pushed too far.
"For years I've taken your abuse, but no more. No more! Do you hear me? I am no longer your wife. You have no hold over me. No right to even touch me. I promise you, if you try to hurt me again I'm going to hurt you back. So help me I will. Now, get out of here, Evan. And don't you ever, ever, come near me again."
She knew the exact moment when he decided to try a different tack. His expression softened, and he smiled beguilingly and extended his hand to her.
"Come on, darling. You know that I don't enjoy hurting you," he said in his most coaxing voice, but when he moved toward her she made another feint with the knife, slashing it through the air on a level with his belly.
"I said get out! Now!"
Evan sucked in his stomach and jumped back. "All right! All right, I'm going," he yelped, all trace of tenderness vanishing from his face. "Just take it easy with that thing." Holding his hands out in front of him, he backed away until the counter was between them, then he whirled around and strode for the door.
Rebecca remained where she was and watched him every step of the way, her braced posture never easing.
He paused by the open French door to glare-back at her. "This isn't the end of it, you know. You're going to pay for this little stunt."
"I've already paid. For six years I've paid. But all that's behind me now. If you come near me again I'll charge you with assault. We'll see what kind of effect that has on your] political chances. Now, get out, Evan. And don't come back."
After one last enraged glare, he stomped out.
No sooner had he disappeared from sight than her nerve deserted her. The adrenaline that had carried her that far] suddenly dissipated like smoke in the wind, leaving her weak. She began to shake violently.
The knife clattered against the surface of the counter. With a soft cry, she sagged against the cabinet and covered her face with both hands.
* * *
Standing on the deck of the Juanita, thumbs hooked in his front pockets, feet crossed at the ankles, Travis leaned back against the rail and pretended interest in the tale that Raphael Gomez was spinning. The tough little Mexican, one] of Fepe's many cousins, was a commercial fisherman working out of San Cristobal on Alhaja Verde. Being an enterprising soul, however, he was not averse to earning an extra peso or two, and had gladly agreed to ferry Evan Hall to Rincon... for a price. Travis fervently hoped that he'd soaked the arrogant jerk good.
He was still upset and chagrined that he had not noticed the boat docked at the end of the pier earlier, when he and j Rebecca returned. Some hotshot FBI agent you are, he told himself scathingly, while giving a sage nod to something Raphael said. If you'd been on a case, a mistake like that could have cost you your life.
His only excuse was that it had been dusk, and difficult to see. That... and his mind had been occupied with thoughts of Rebecca and the uncomfortable constraint that had developed between them after that kiss in the mountain pool.
"...and the marlin there! Ai yi yi!" Raphael laid his hand over his heart. " I tell you Senor, they were gigante.''
"Mmm. Sounds great, Raphael. Rebecca and I will have to take David's boat out tomorrow and give that area a try."
That is, if she was still there.
Travis frowned. Dammit, what had brought Evan Hall to Rincon? The divorce was final, so the property settlement had already been hammered out. They had no children to form a common bond between them or to squabble over. He couldn't think of
a single reason why the guy had sought her out. Unless he wants her back.
Shifting uneasily, Travis glared at the house. Light spilled from the double set of French doors in the living room and illuminated the deck, but from where he was, he couldn't see what was going on inside. Surely Rebecca wouldn't go back to that cold bastard.
She had sidestepped all his attempts to find out what had gone wrong in the marriage, but it stood to reason that things must have been pretty bad for her to divorce Evan. She'd claimed that he hadn't been unfaithful, but that could have been face-saving on her part.
Pursing his lips, Travis mulled the thought over. Naw. It was more likely, given what a cold fish the guy was, that he'd neglected her. For someone like Rebecca, who had been starved for love all of her life, that would have been devastating.
He was probably worrying for nothing. Rebecca was a smart woman. Hall could sweet-talk her all he wanted to, but she had to know that nothing had changed.
Jerking his thumbs out of his pockets, Travis gripped the rail on either side of his hips. His hands squeezed the cold metal, relaxed, then squeezed again. Why the devil should it matter to him, anyway? Hell, just a little over two weeks ago, he would've been happy to be rid of her.
If she went back to the guy, so what? It was no skin off his nose. He'd just finish out the summer alone, as he'd planned. That way he'd have plenty of time to think over his options and come to a decision about his future. He probably wouldn't even miss her.
Yeah. Sure. Travis sighed. Who the hell was he kidding? He'd miss her all right, and for more than just her cooking. He'd miss her laughter and her soft smiles, her gentleness and patience, her sweet, undemanding companionship. Hell, the plain truth was, he liked being with her. He liked her.