by Day Leclaire
“Not yet. But the guys are meeting so Darius can update them about the arson investigation. And if he hasn’t gotten wind of this yet, he will the minute he steps foot through the front doors.”
Rebecca shot to her feet. “Where’s my father?”
“He’s just finishing lunch at the café.”
She left the library without another word and caught up with her father just as he was exiting the restaurant. Grabbing his arm, she drew him away from the avid gaze of the other patrons. “Kate just told me you announced to everyone that I’m engaged to Alex. Where did you hear such a thing, Dad? It’s not true and you have to tell everyone it’s not.”
“It will be,” her father retorted calmly. “Montoya can’t very well back out now that it’s public information, not without looking like a total bastard.”
“You set us up? Deliberately?” Rebecca demanded in an appalled undertone. “How could you do such a thing?”
His jaw assumed a stubborn slant. “I’ve only told everyone what I had to in order for us to continue holding our heads up in this town.”
“Have you lost your mind? After everything Alex has done for us—”
“What he’s done for us?” her father repeated in an irate undertone. “What he’s done is turn you into a laughingstock. He’s forced you to become both his housekeeper and his mistress.”
“In case you failed to notice, I’ve chosen my own path in life, Dad, just as you have. Alex didn’t force me to do anything. I went to him and told him I’d be his housekeeper until I paid off your debt. He didn’t want me working for him and for good reason. I’m a terrible housekeeper. And if I ended up in his bed, it was because that’s where I wanted to be.”
He waved her comments aside as though they didn’t matter. “You’re a fool, Rebecca. You could work for that man for the rest of your life and never come close to putting a dent in that debt.”
“What are you talking about? Three hundred thousand is a lot, granted, but I’ve already paid down a decent portion of that.”
“It’s not three hundred thousand. It’s one-point-three million. My debt to Rodriquez? It’s a million dollars, Rebecca.”
Her mouth dropped open and she could only stare, stricken. To her horror, Alex chose that moment to appear, his expression one of unmitigated fury. He could barely bring himself to look at her.
Focusing on her father, he said, “I’ll deal with you in the morning when I’m not tempted to put an end to your miserable life. And in case you’ve forgotten, your membership was suspended. I suggest you leave before I have you thrown out.” He still refused to so much as glance her way, even when he addressed her. “Rebecca, we’re leaving. Let’s go.”
He didn’t bother to see whether she followed. Before going after him, she addressed her father in a harsh undertone. “Fair warning, Dad. When Alex is done with you, I intend to have a go at whatever he hasn’t chewed up and spat out.”
“It was for your own good.”
Rebecca refused to let him get away with that one. “No, Dad. It was for yours.”
She caught up with Alex just as he exited the club and addressed him in a breathless voice. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll straighten it out. I had no idea he planned to do that.”
“We’ll discuss it back at the ranch.”
They covered the miles in a painful silence. His anger was so great he practically vibrated with it. She could only hope the time it took to reach El Diablo allowed his infamous temper to cool somewhat. It was a forlorn hope. She joined him as he pounded up the steps of the porch and entered the house. He made a beeline for his office where he poured several fingers of whiskey into a tumbler and downed it in a single swallow.
“Madre de Dios!” he swore. “I have had about as much as I can stomach.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I promise I’ll take care of it.”
He poured two drinks this time, then rounded on her. “How do you intend to do that?” He handed her one of the glasses. “‘My mistake, everyone. Alex didn’t propose. My father just claimed he did because he couldn’t bear the idea that I’ve become both his housekeeper and mistress.’ Is that what you plan to say?”
“Something like that.” She took a gulp of the whiskey and winced. The potent liquor burned her throat and caused tears to fill her eyes. She much preferred whiskey when it was disguised as Irish coffee. “I may leave out the housekeeper and mistress part of the explanation,” she managed to gasp.
“Do not attempt to humor me. I don’t find any part of this the least bit amusing.”
She released a tired sigh. “I don’t, either, Alex. But considering all that’s happened over the past few weeks, a sense of humor is just about the only thing left to me.” He started to speak, but she waved him silent. “What does it matter what I tell people or what they think of me? They can’t think much worse than they already do.”
“But they can think worse of me.”
It took her a moment to puzzle through that one. And then it hit her. “And they’d think worse of you if you married the daughter of a thief and arsonist, wouldn’t they, Alex?”
She must have hit pretty close to the truth because he swore again, this time a virulent string of words in Spanish. All the while Rebecca fought to breathe. To pretend that his attitude toward her and her father hadn’t wounded her to the very depths of her being. To her relief, fury came to her rescue.
“Let me make sure I understand this,” she said with impressive calm. “You’re not upset because of what my father did, but because you’re—” she struggled to find the most appropriate word “—because you’re disgusted at the idea of being romantically linked to a Huntington? Your business would be harmed? Your precious reputation? Your honor?”
His head jerked up as though scenting danger. Took him long enough, she thought. “Rebecca—”
“Just answer the question, Alex.” She tossed back the whiskey, this time ignoring the alcoholic burn, and slammed the glass onto his desk so hard she couldn’t believe it didn’t shatter. “On second thought, never mind. You’ve already made your feelings crystal clear.”
He studied her without expression. “It’s not you. You understand that, don’t you? It’s your father.”
“No, I got it. I’m good enough to bed, so long as no one finds out. But you wouldn’t dream of marrying me.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that what you were hoping would happen? I’d take you to bed and fall in love with you again? We’d marry and your father’s debts would be miraculously forgiven?”
“In other words, did I seduce you as some sort of nefarious plot so you’d pay off our debts and save my father from jail? Sure, Alex. Have it your way.” She closed the distance between them. “Now let me ask you a question. When I approached you about taking over as your housekeeper in order to pay off our debt, why didn’t you tell me it was an impossibility? A one-point-three-million-dollar impossibility? Or would that have spoiled your fun at having the opportunity to turn the tables on the Huntingtons and get a little payback after all?”
“Your father told you?” At her nod, he sighed. “Interesting, considering I promised him I would remain silent on the issue. I did warn you the debt couldn’t be settled anytime soon.”
“There were alternatives to telling me, Alex. If you’d flat-out refused to hire me, there’s not much I could have done to force your agreement.”
He shrugged. “I thought having you stay at El Diablo might protect you from Rodriquez.”
It made a hideous sort of sense. “So it had nothing to do with wanting me back in your bed?”
He didn’t answer that, but she could see the truth in his eyes. He wanted her. He’d always wanted her, just as she’d always wanted him. What a sad pair they were. Exhaustion swamped her.
“I’ll pack my things and be out of your life first thing in the morning.” A bit melodramatic, but maybe he’d put that down to the amount of whiskey she’d consumed. She paused by the door, bu
t couldn’t bring herself to look at him again in case she burst into tears. “You know…I find it interesting that you’ve always held my father in such contempt when you’ve spent your entire life turning yourself into an exact replica of him. And just in case you were wondering, tonight you completed the transformation. You’re just as much a snob as he ever was.”
And with that, she walked out.
Ten
T he ringing of her cell phone woke Rebecca from a groggy sleep. Sitting up in bed, she looked around her room in a daze while the events of the previous night crashed down on her. At some point in the midst of her packing frenzy she must have fallen asleep, leaving the evidence of those crazed hours strewn around her. Clothing was piled half in and half out of suitcases. Dresser drawers hung open. And the closet door stood agape, with the hangers stripped bare.
The cell phone continued its annoying chirp and she cleared her throat as she fumbled to answer it, praying it was Alex calling with a change of heart. Though why he would call instead of simply joining her in bed…
“Yes, hello?”
“Good morning, señorita. I trust you slept well last night?”
She hesitated for a full ten seconds before moistening her lips and replying. “Paulo?”
“Very good,” he responded with warm approval. “You’ve come to recognize my voice. An excellent step forward in our relationship. Soon you’ll learn to listen to my every word, and of course, always do exactly as I tell you.”
Was he kidding? “That’s not likely.”
“Really?” His laughter sent a chill of dread coursing through her. “I think it’s not only likely, but inevitable. Why don’t we test my theory and see. Are you listening, muñequita?”
She vaguely recalled that meant little doll, but suspected it had a slightly different connotation the way he chose to use it. “I’m listening.”
“See, already part of my prediction has come true.” His voice lowered, became more sinister. “Let’s see if I can’t make the rest come true, as well. Shall we try?”
Her palms grew damp, making it difficult to hold the cell phone. “What do you want?”
“I want you to come to Huntington Manor. Alone. When you get here, you will join your father and me for a little…conversation.”
Her heart leaped. “My father?” she repeated.
“Is right here with me. Shall I put him on?”
“Yes. Yes, I want to speak to him.”
“Very well. I will allow it. This time.”
There was a momentary pause and she could hear men’s voices conversing in the background. Then her father came on the line. “Gentry’s here! Find Alex. Tell him—”
Her father broke off with a groan and then Rodriquez spoke again. “If you are very wise, you won’t listen to your father. He’s an old man. He can’t handle pressure well. Such pressure could do him serious harm. Do we understand one another?”
Terror filled her. What had he already done to her father to cause him to groan like that? What more was he willing to do if she didn’t follow his instructions? Injecting a docile tone into her voice that was only partially feigned, she said, “Don’t hurt him. Please, Paulo.”
To her relief, it worked. “Much better. I like how you ask so nicely.” He paused a beat before continuing. “It’s time for you to come home. Get into your car and drive over here. Then the three of us—”
“Don’t you mean four?”
He chuckled. “Very well. The four of us will have a brief conversation while we determine the future direction of our relationship.” The amusement faded from his voice. “Under no circumstances will you call Alex. Besides, I’ve arranged for him to be well occupied at his office with strict instructions not to be disturbed. He won’t be able to help you, even if he were so inclined. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. See? I told you that you’d listen and obey me. I’m very pleased at how quickly you’ve learned. You won’t keep your future husband waiting, will you, Rebecca?”
She gritted her teeth. “No, Paulo,” she answered dutifully.
“See that you don’t.”
The instant he disconnected the call, she began to punch in Alex’s number, then hesitated. She’d never been a good liar and doubted she could fool Paulo if he asked her whether or not she’d disobeyed him. But she hadn’t promised she wouldn’t call someone else. Unfortunately, this time she doubted anyone could save her from what Paulo had planned.
Again, she started to use her cell, but thought better of it. Allowing instinct to drive her, she called Kate using Alex’s landline. Precious moments passed while she argued with her best friend, finally hanging up in a panic when she realized how much time was passing. Running flat-out for the pickup truck she’d purchased to replace her Cabriolet, she turned the key in the ignition and prayed that the stubborn engine would turn over. To her relief, it caught on the first try. Grinding it into gear, she bumped her way down Alex’s gravel entryway.
The drive from El Diablo to Huntington Manor seemed interminable. When she finally arrived everything looked perfectly normal, with the exception of a powerful black vehicle squatting on the grass in front of the house like some predatory cockroach. No doubt cutting across the lawn was Rodriquez’s quaint manner of marking the territory he intended to claim. Gathering her self-control, she climbed the steps and entered the house.
She suspected she’d find her father entertaining their “guests” in the library. Her guess proved accurate. She entered to find her father seated at a desk with his ex-foreman and Paulo Rodriquez standing over him while he scratched his signature on a piece of paper.
Rodriquez looked up at her entrance and offered her a look of cool approval. “Join the party, muñequita. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“What’s going on?” She focused her attention on the wad of papers in front of her father. “What is my father signing?”
“Just a few unimportant documents.”
Right. Sure they were. “Let me guess. Unimportant documents that transfer ownership of Huntington Manor over to you?”
He grinned and shook his finger at her. “I can’t fool you, can I?” His smile faded and he approached, holding out his hand. “Your cell phone, if you don’t mind.”
Her fingers tightened on the strap of her purse. “I do mind.”
“Do not attempt to play with me, señorita. I am most displeased with you right now.”
She attempted to swallow her fear, but her throat had gone bone dry. Removing the phone from her purse, she passed it into Rodriquez’s keeping. “Why do you need my cell?”
He flipped it open and pressed a series of buttons. “I wish to see who you’ve phoned since we last spoke.” He nodded in approval. “Very good. No calls were placed after mine.”
“Satisfied?”
“Not yet. But soon. Come.” He waved a hand toward the couch as though he were the host and she his guest. “Make yourself comfortable. You won’t be going anywhere for a very long time. You and I…Let’s just say we have plans to discuss.”
Her sense of dread increased and she forced herself to bury it beneath an air of casual inquisitiveness. “What sort of plans?”
He deliberately waited a beat, no doubt in an effort to increase the apprehension she’d failed to conceal from him. “Why, wedding plans, of course.”
“I’m going in there and nothing any of you say or do is going to stop me,” Alex stated implacably.
“Don’t be more of an idiot than you can help, Montoya,” Lance Brody argued. “That’s precisely what Rodriquez is counting on. Then he’ll have all of you.”
Alex stared at Huntington Manor, standing tall and stately in the distance while he remained tucked out of sight like some timid mouse cowering before a hungry cat. “I’m not going to allow Rebecca to remain in there unprotected.”
“Will he be armed?” Darius cut in.
“Without question.”
Darius lifted an eyebrow.
“So, what? You’re just going to stroll in and tell him to let your woman go? Once he has the two of you together, he’ll use you against each other.”
Lance took up the argument. “I know Becca as well as anyone. You would put yourself in harm’s way to protect her—she’ll do the same on your behalf. And you damn well know it. Think. You can’t give Rodriquez that sort of leverage.”
“I have to.”
“You’re not in this alone,” Lance maintained. He nodded toward the rest of the men grouped around them. His brother, Mitch, had his back. Alex’s future brother-in-law, Justin Dupree, had positioned himself on one side, while Kevin Novak had taken up the other. “We’re all here for you. Every last man.”
Alex found it difficult to reply. He’d been alone for so long, it was hard to accept that was no longer the case. “Thank you,” he said simply.
“Here’s the deal,” Darius said, laying it out. “If we storm the place, chances are someone will get hurt. Or Rodriquez will claim he was there at Huntington’s invitation. We don’t have any evidence to prove differently. We sure as hell don’t have any evidence that he’s guilty of any crime. There’s no proof that he scammed Huntington. No proof that he intends anyone any harm. He’ll walk.”
“Then what am I—are we—supposed to do?” Alex demanded in frustration.
Darius grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Rebecca glared at Rodriquez. “You can’t honestly believe I’ll agree to marry you?”
“You will unless you want to see your father put in jail as an arsonist.”
She switched her gaze to Gentry. “He can’t testify against my father without implicating himself.”
Rodriquez waved that aside. “Cornelius is about to take a long, restful trip. But before he goes, he’ll leave behind more than enough evidence to convict your father of the charges.” He approached the couch and ran a finger along the curve of her cheek, his mouth tightening at her involuntary flinch. “Soon you will not just welcome my touch, but beg for it.”
“Take your hands off her,” Sebastian roared from where he sat behind his desk. He half rose, but Gentry shoved him back into the chair.