Casey’s trained eye hastily scanned the story and pictures to assess their power and possible damage. Brandy was right. She too was shocked and disillusioned. “Why, Brandy? Is he still at your ranch? What did he have to say about this vile story?”
“He was at the ranch. In fact, we’ve been having a wonderful time, or so I stupidly thought. The bloody coward left this morning before I was up. No thanks or good-bye! He told Zack he was coming back here. As to why he did it, I have no idea. You know what he thought and how he acted after we met in Las Vegas, but I honestly believed he was being sincere. Somehow I’ve annoyed him to the point of ruthless revenge, but I don’t know why or how to stop it. Do you know that he once offered me that story in exchange for the manuscript for Valley?”
“I know. He also offered Webster Books a million dollars for it. Naturally they refused; he upped it to one and a half million. Webster told him no amount could purchase one of your manuscripts,” she informed the stunned Brandy. She went on to fill her friend and client in on her other findings and suspicions.
Brandy just sat there shocked. “Why?” she finally managed to ask.
“Would you believe I was convinced the snake was in love with you? What happened at your ranch?” Casey softly entreated.
Her mind spinning and nothing to gain by a refusal, Brandy glossed over Steven’s traitorous visit, leaving little untold. “I must be the biggest fool born, Casey. I love him.”
Casey felt this wasn’t the time for advice on a broken heart. Her anger mounting against this vicious man, she declared, “We’ll just go and see what Mr. Steven Winngate has to say about this and his deceitful methods. You coming along?”
“I’ll never face that monster again! I’m leaving for the beach house right now. Don’t call me unless there’s an emergency. And please don’t tell Nigel or anyone where I am. I need to be alone. I’ve got some mighty heavy thinking to do.”
“Will you be all right?” Sympathy and concern filled Casey and flowed out to Brandy.
“I’ll have to be, won’t I? I might head on up to the Northwest until this story blows over; I have all my notes with me. That cold climate and juicy story should take my mind off this tragic mess. I’ll call you before I head out.” She paused at the door and glanced back at her friend and agent. “I’m truly sorry, Casey. I did my best. In fact, I did more than my best. Bye.”
Casey smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of this story and Steven Winngate,” she vowed angrily. Both departed in opposite directions for different purposes.
“Show Miss Treavers in,” Steven stated over his intercom, wondering why Brandy’s agent and friend had demanded to see him, calling it an emergency. Surely Brandy wasn’t upset about that letter he left on her dresser? Had she sent Casey here with her response, a refusal? Did she know about Valley?
Casey stormed into his masculine office of earthtones and fearlessly approached his massive oak desk. She contemptuously threw the offensive magazine in front of him. She shouted, “You filthy bastard! How dare you do that to Brandy? You’re the lowest form of life around. Worse than that, you lied to her and tricked her. You led her to believe you had canceled that piece of trash by McGavin. There’s no way to excuse or explain such treachery!”
Bewildered, he asked, “What are you talking about, woman? I told her I wouldn’t print that story. There won’t be an old one or a new one printed in my magazine. I just got back this morning.”
“Oh, I know what you told her. But I also know what my own eyes see before them. How can you stand there and continue this charade? The proof is right there!” She emphatically tapped the front cover with its bold print and color photo.
His eyes followed her erratic movements. He gasped in stunned fury. “Who the hell printed this lie?” he exploded as his volatile temper was unleashed. He scanned the story.
Steven yanked up his phone and placed a call to the publisher. He snarled at the man who had blatantly disregarded his orders. “You’re fired, Thompson. How dare you go against my orders! I’m going to marry that girl if she’ll even speak to me after this.”
They argued for a while, then Steven demanded he call the warehouse and halt any deliveries of that issue. “You’d better pray they haven’t sent out a single copy. If so, I’ll tear you limb from limb and burn down that place!”
Steven halted to ask Casey how she got her advance copy. When she answered him, his anger and dismay increased. There was a lengthy silence as Steven listened to Thompson’s incredible explanation. “You’re crazy! I didn’t send you any such order. I told you not to run a story on her.” He listened again. When Thompson said he had the order in his hand, suspicion began to eat into his mind. “See if McGavin knows anything about this order. Also have a Camille Blanchard checked out. From now on, no orders other than by phone or in person. Understand? I’ll be in my office. Do what you have to do, but I want every single copy shredded today.”
After a brief silence, he shouted, “I don’t care what it costs! If one copy hits the market, I’ll have your head. I’ll cover any expense necessary. While you’re at it, burn every scrap of information on Brandy Alexander. Put a note in the files, no more stories about that woman unless I write them. Call when you can account for every copy.” He slammed down the phone and muttered curses beneath his breath.
Suddenly recalling how Casey had gotten her copy, he whirled to face her. “Where’s Brandy now? I have to explain this mess to her, if she’ll believe a word I say now . . .”
“Needless to say, she’s crushed by this deceit. She’s canceled all of her publicity tours. Says she can’t face anyone until this blows over. She left before I came over here. She refused to come along. Said she didn’t ever want to see you again.”
“Was she headed back to the ranch?”
“No. That would be the first place anyone would hound her once this story hit the market. Let her alone, Mr. Winngate. I think you’ve hurt her enough. She won’t even see Nigel.”
“I have to see her, Casey! She’s in love with me, or didn’t she tell you that? Where is she?” he demanded.
“Yes, I know it. She has been since Vegas. It was written all over her face every time she mentioned your name. It just took her awhile to realize what that strange, new feeling was all about.”
“Then tell me where to find her, please . . .”
“I can’t. I promised not to tell anyone, especially you. Don’t you think I know how you’ve treated her since Vegas? I also told her all about your devious investigation.”
“Did she discuss me with you?”
“Nigel dropped numerous hints when I asked him to protect her from you. Why else do you think he was there? He was going to cancel his visit when he learned you were going. I begged him to be there. I didn’t trust you, Winngate, and now I see why. He loves Brandy like a real sister. He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her, including you. When he learns of this story . . .”
Before Casey could finish, the phone signaled a call. Steven quickly snatched it up, praying it was Brandy. He sighed loudly in relief as he listened to the news from the other end. “You’re certain? Every copy?” He waited. “Excellent, Thompson.” They talked for a few more minutes.
Casey wandered around his plush office. She halted by the leather sofa. She leaned over and picked up the galley of Valley of Fire from where he had been reading it. She whirled to confront him as he came up behind her, “How did you get this?”
“I have a friend at Webster who owed me a favor. I was told Brandy used me for the prototype for the hero. Naturally, I wanted to see it before it hit print,” he admitted honestly.
“Where would you get a crazy idea like that? Valley was written last year, long before Brandy even met you. It isn’t even about the Valley of Fire in Vegas.”
“I know that now. I’ve already scanned the gall
ey. She’s good, isn’t she? From her style and vivid descriptions, I could almost see and hear her characters and settings. No wonder she makes the bestseller lists every time. I’ve been reading every one of her books I could obtain. As for Valley, I was mistaken, or maliciously misled.”
“Is that why you’ve been harassing her? You thought she was using you for that story? That’s why you wanted it!”
“Correct. When Derrick called last night to say I could have a peek at it this morning, I caught the first flight here. As for my deceptive visit to her ranch, I had to be certain about her before I proposed.”
“Before you what?” she exclaimed in amazement.
“Proposed to her. Didn’t she mention my offer of marriage? Seems I researched her a little too deeply and fully. I love her, Casey. There won’t be another story about her, unless it’s coverage of our wedding.”
“What wedding, Mr. Winngate? She said she didn’t want to ever see you again.” It wouldn’t hurt him to have some doubt inserted into that arrogant, smug attitude. Let him crawl to Brandy and beg her forgiveness for all he had put her through! He always got his way and his wishes. Let him fret about this one very costly triumph.
“Where is she, Casey? I know you want to punish me, but don’t torment her with the lack of the truth about me and this mix-up. While I stew, her heart is needlessly breaking.”
“Mix-up? Somebody sent that telegram.”
“I think I know who that was. I promise you I’ll deal severely with her just as soon as I straighten out things with Brandy. Please, where is she?” he pleaded earnestly.
“How do I know this isn’t some new deceit? Another trick?”
He pulled a black velvet box from his pocket. He opened it and stuck it under her nose. “Does this look like a trick? I bought it this morning. I also have a return ticket on the afternoon flight to Kentucky. Would you care to see it?” he boldly sneered, impatient to find his tormented love.
Casey’s eyes stared at the three-carat solitaire engagement ring which was snuggled into the crevice in the midnight velvet box. “You’re actually serious. You do want to marry her!”
“If and when I can find her and clear up this mess,” he replied, trying to curb his hot temper and to convince her to release the vital information about Brandy’s hideout.
Casey laughed happily and boldly stated, “I’ll take care of this galley for you. I’ll write down her address at Kiawah Island. I’ll also send her a note that you can be trusted, if you’d like,” she generously offered, convinced of Steven’s past mistakes and future intentions.
She went to his desk and did just that. “Make sure you explain why I betrayed her confidence and location.”
They talked as they planned his coming trip. Casey picked up the galley and headed for the door. She turned and vowed, “You’re a fortunate man, Mr. Winngate. You couldn’t find a better woman than Brandy. She loves you, but she’s hurt and confused, so go easy on her. Just get there before she heads out for the Northwest. It would take months to locate her there.”
Steven squirmed in the cushiony seat of the private jet which was speeding him to Brandy’s side. He couldn’t relax; he couldn’t arrive soon enough to please him. He fretted over her hasty flight. Why hadn’t she given him the chance to explain? What about his letter? His declaration of love? His proposal? After reading his letter, how could she believe he would be responsible for doing this vile thing, for betraying her and their love? How could she just run off like this?
He withdrew the velvet box and opened it, gazing at the ring, recalling how he had traced her size on a piece of paper using her dinner ring. He loved her; he needed her; he wanted her. There was a big stack of evidence against him. Could he convince her it was all a terrible mistake? She had spoken the truth—Valley had nothing to do with them. If she truly loved him, why desert him? What if Casey was wrong? What if Brandy didn’t love him? What if she was too proud or stubborn to listen, to forgive him? After witnessing and sharing her life-style, maybe she didn’t want to change it, even for him . . .
Marriage, a husband, children—those were drastic changes. Children, the word and idea rifled through his troubled mind like staggering bullets. Neither he nor his naïve Brandy had used or discussed birth control. What if—He beamed, a daring and persuasive argument dancing across his ecstatic mind.
Chapter Thirteen
In Brandy’s troubled mood, the warm sun seemed to blaze down unmercifully upon her tawny head as she walked along the sandy beach. The lapping waves which normally played happily at her bare feet only annoyed her today. The azure sky seemed too blue and too clear while her mood was dark and cloudy. The air should feel tingly and fresh, but it seemed to stifle and to irritate her instead. Today, when she was seeking to comprehend and to forget Steven Winngate, the elements joined to torment her, just as they had done on the first day she had met him.
Brandy could not seem to shake her anguish and loneliness, this agonizing feeling of betrayal of something rare and beautiful. Today had been the longest and most difficult day of her entire life. She did not even want to eat or to sleep. All she wanted was Lance Reynolds, and that was utterly impossible. He had made it impossible forever. She didn’t even want to observe the splendid, colorful sunset which was in progress. It, too, reminded her of that first meeting.
She couldn’t even cry anymore. Surely she had already used up her lifetime supply of that soothing treatment. For the first time, she had totally surrendered her heart and soul to a man . . . but one who did not want her. It was too late to take them back, for that demon had no doubt devoured them, bit by bit.
She slowly sank down to her knees upon the ecru sands. What did she care about the lovely scenery? What did she care about the expensive, crepe de chine dress she was still wearing? Nothing mattered now, nothing except somehow easing this terrible pain. She had walked for hours. She sighed wearily and dejectedly.
“Brandy . . .” a voice from the innermost reaches of her heart called out softly.
Thinking it was her traitorous mind taunting her, she cried out, “My God, is there no place to escape you? Everything reminds me of you. Damn you, Lance! Stop tormenting me.”
“Brandy love, how can I ever make you understand? I’m so sorry, angel,” the deep voice murmured sadly beside her, an alerting shadow falling across her lap.
She whirled around, tossing sand onto the legs of his white deck pants and onto his bare feet. Her wide, doubting eyes slowly traveled upward. They went past his navy oxford shirt which was unbuttoned to his waist. They helplessly lingered upon the dark, curling hair upon that virile chest where she had rested her head many times. They briefly slipped over the gold rope chain with its noble lion’s head. They halted hungrily upon his sensual lips. They roamed his striking face for a few moments, then settled on his vivid sea-blue eyes.
“Steven! What are you doing here? How did you find me? Did you come to gloat over your stunning, crafty victory? Or perhaps only boast of your cunning conquest of a naïve girl?” she hotly accused, as tears began to ease down her cheeks. There was such pain and sadness within her eyes and voice. “You filthy bastard! Get out of my sight and life.” She jumped up and raced down the deserted beach.
Steven quickly and agilely pursued her. It was past time for a final understanding between them. His hand snaked out and seized the hand flying beside her in her hasty flight. He pulled her to a stop and caught her by the shoulders. Brandy struggled against his strength and flung curses at him, words she had only used till then in her novels. He turned her around and clutched her against him. She pounded upon his hard chest; she screamed at him; she threatened him; she cried in frustration and pain. When she was too exhausted to fight anymore, he loosened his steel grip only slightly.
“You’re going to hear me out, woman,” he vowed in determination. “Shut up and listen!” he shouted over he
r tirade.
“Never!” she screamed at him.
As a crazed tigress, Brandy fought him wildly with her meager strength. Steven hooked his right leg behind hers and sent her to the sandy ground on her rear. They thrashed in the sand as he confined her legs between his and pinned her hands to the sides of her head. Still she desperately struggled for freedom.
“You’re getting sand all over me. It’s in my hair!” she shrieked foolishly at the resolved Steven. “Let me up!”
Brandy’s order had no effect on Steven. “Look at me, Brandy,” he stated firmly.
“No!” she refused, twisting her head to one side. Brandy did halt her wiggling which was dangerously hiking up her dress towards her writhing hips.
Steven dragged her hands through the sand until he touched her head and imprisoned it with his thumbs and forefingers, burying them in tumbling silk. When she struggled to pull free, he refused to release her. “I know this might sound incredible, but I love you, Brandy.”
“Love me!” she shouted at him. “How can you say that after what you’ve done to me? I trusted you. You lived in my own home. You slept in my bed. I entertained and befriended you while you were conniving to destroy me. How dare you come here with such malicious lies! Wasn’t that last story juicy enough for you and your readers? My God, Steven, you knew it wasn’t true! Why?”
“Listen to me, Brandy. I can explain ev—” he began.
“I just bet you can. More lies, Steven? More torment and betrayal? I won’t listen to anything more you have to say. I won’t be fooled or lied to again. Stay away from me. I never want to see you again. Never!”
Valley of Fire Page 24