Those habits were hard to overcome, Candice discovered when she reached the bedroom. She hesitated in the hall, telling herself she wasn’t snooping. Mrs. Merryweather wouldn’t think twice about barging in and gathering his laundry.
Armed with this stout reminder, Candice pushed open the door and stepped inside. Her heart fluttered just thinking about Austin striding around in here in all his naked glory.
With a nervous laugh, she began scooping up his scattered clothing. She dutifully checked each pocket, smiling at the odd assortment of items she found: a key she recognized as belonging to the apartment over the garage, an old, tar-coated buffalo-head nickel, a few sticks of gum, two crumpled dollar bills. Mrs. Merryweather hadn’t been exaggerating.
Stacking the items on top of the dresser, Candice sorted through a pile of his shirts, mostly faded cotton in stripes and solids. She found a folded receipt in one pocket and a checkbook in the other.
The sight of the checkbook gave her pause. Austin had gone to buy a ton of dog food; hopefully he carried cash. She should have given him the money, since he’d gotten the dog for her, she mused, mentally kicking herself for the oversight. He probably didn’t have much money to speak of, and it certainly wasn’t his place to feed her dog. Why, on the salary she paid him he could hardly afford to…
Candice bit her bottom lip, recalling the doghouse he’d built to surprise her. He’d obviously purchased the materials out of his own pocket, and he hadn’t given her any receipts for reimbursement. And then there was the day they’d gone shopping and he’d bought her that garish pink sweat suit and the tennis shoes. He’d also paid for their lunch. Small purchases that could add up quickly for someone on a tight budget.
How thoughtless she’d been for not once considering that he might be low on funds. He was an aspiring artist, and everyone knew that artists were poor. Not that Austin seemed to mind. In fact, he would probably be insulted if she did mention it.
Candice tapped the checkbook thoughtfully against her cheek. It wouldn’t be right for her to look, of course. Just the thought made her face flame. She’d be snooping, pure and simple.
But it might give her an idea of just how poor he was. If she looked and it was as bad as she imagined, she would definitely find a way to reimburse him for everything he’d done. And if it turned out he wasn’t, then she wouldn’t take the chance of hurting his pride by offering him money. He wouldn’t have to know about her snooping either way.
Before she could reconsider, Candice flipped open the checkbook and skimmed down the column of hastily written accounts to the ending balance.
The amount at the bottom sent her staggering backward.
She dropped the checkbook as if it were on fire, staring at it in horror. The amount flashed before her eyes like a gaudy neon sign outside a motel. Fifty-two thousand, four hundred and ten dollars. She pressed a hand to her mouth. Why would Austin take a handyman job with that kind of money in the bank? Granted, it was a drop in the bucket compared to the Vanausdale estate, but it was nothing to sneeze at!
Unless… A horrible thought came to her, one that made her feel immediately ashamed. But not so ashamed that it stopped her from reaching down and retrieving the checkbook.
Her fingers trembled badly as she once again turned to the last entry and checked the date.
Yesterday. Yesterday Austin Hyde had become fifty thousand dollars richer.
And today he’d brought her roses and a dog, which reminded her of her earlier suspicions about a guilty conscience. She felt physically ill. If Austin had sold a painting, he would have told her. She couldn’t imagine his keeping such wonderful news to himself. No, this time there was no denying it.
He’d been paid, either by the media or by her in-laws.
Candice came out of her stunned daze to the sound of footsteps approaching down the hall. She quickly pitched the checkbook onto the dresser among the pile of items she’d dug from his pockets. She didn’t want Mrs. Merryweather to know, not yet. The poor housekeeper would be as heartbroken as she was.
Heartbroken, humiliated, devastated, betrayed. Candice didn’t need a thesaurus to describe how she felt. She should have trusted her brain instead of her heart.
Now it was too late.
Forcing a bright smile to her lips, Candice turned to assure the housekeeper she was nearly finished. Her smile froze. It wasn’t Mrs. Merryweather.
It was Austin.
He seemed as surprised to find her in his room as she was to find him in the doorway. Oblivious to the frost warning in effect, he flashed her a boyish smile. “I came back for my checkbook.” He slapped at his empty pockets. “No cash.”
Candice hardened her heart against his endearing smile. She found it disgusting to realize that he still held the power to weaken her knees.
“Tell me, Austin,” she began in a tone so icy it seemed to chill the air between them. “Are you planning to include my sexual preferences when you give the media the interview? Or perhaps it was my in-laws who made you fifty thousand dollars richer. My guess is you played the field until the price was right.”
Despite the trembling that began to shake her entire body, she ignored his dumbfounded expression and raked him with a contemptuous glance. He was good. Oh, he was very good. If she had not seen evidence of his bank deposit with her own two eyes, she might be convinced he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Bitterly, she continued, “If it was money you wanted, you should have come to me. I would have doubled what they offered to protect my baby’s future.” Thank God she hadn’t gotten around to telling him that the money just didn’t seem to matter anymore, that she loved him beyond belief.
Austin’s puzzled expression faded. His jaw hardened, and the perpetual twinkle in his eyes dimmed into obscurity. “If you had questions, why didn’t you just ask me, instead of snooping through my things?”
So he thought to put her on the defensive, did he? Candice wasn’t falling for his tricks so easily anymore. “So you’re admitting it?”
“Not on your life.” He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him with an ominous click that made her heart beat faster. “I’d be admitting to a lie.”
Candice didn’t have to force a disbelieving laugh; it came quite naturally. “You expect me to believe you?”
“I expect you to trust me.” He walked slowly toward her, holding her gaze, a blue flame burning in his eyes. “The money was left to me by my father. For reasons I don’t care to mention at the moment, I haven’t touched it until yesterday.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Have I given you reason not to trust me?” he countered softly.
A few more steps and he would reach her, touch her. The wall was behind her. She had nowhere to go, and if he touched her, she feared her resolve would desert her. She searched his eyes for signs of guilt or deception, but the only thing she found was disappointment. Why would he be disappointed if he wasn’t telling the truth? And he had a point; he’d given her no reason not to trust him. Still… “What—what made you decide to use it now?”
A faint smile tilted one corner of his mouth, but Candice saw something dark and violent flicker in his eyes.
“Does it matter?”
Did it? she asked herself. That is, if she believed him. If she did, then it really wasn’t any of her business what he did with his own inheritance. Still, it hurt to know he didn’t feel as if he could confide in her. Unless it meant he no longer wanted or needed the job. Then it would matter plenty.
“I would never sell you out.”
His hands closed over her arms, and the anger slipped out of her just as she’d feared it would. Would she ever get used to how easily he could arouse her?
“I guess I owe you an apology,” she whispered, her voice noticeably husky.
Austin slid his hands to her waist and pulled her tightly against him. His voice matched hers. “Apology accepted. Now, I have another surprise for you.”
Candice nearly groane
d at Austin’s announcement. “How big is this surprise?” After the Great Dane, she was almost afraid to ask.
He laughed at her wary expression. “Big. Very big. Come on.”
He pulled her out of the room and downstairs at a speed that left her breathless by the time they stumbled into the kitchen. She laughed at Mrs. Merry weather’s startled expression.
“Brace yourself,” Candice told the housekeeper as Austin tugged her relentlessly in the direction of the back door. “He’s got another surprise.”
“Oh, my Lord!” Mrs. Merryweather exclaimed, throwing aside her apron and following them.
They didn’t have to go far to see the surprise; it was parked in the driveway leading to the garage, and it was taking up a lot of space. Not an elephant, but as Candice eyed the ancient-looking silver motor home, she had the niggling feeling it was an apt description for it.
“Isn’t she a beaut?” Austin asked, watching her expectantly. “Got it cheap, too. It has a fully functional kitchen, a bathroom—the works. Just like being at home.” When Candice remained speechless, Austin prompted, “Well? What do you think?”
Candice licked her lips, searching for something neutral to say about his latest surprise. She had to admit, he’d definitely topped the two-hundred-pound dog. “It’s a surprise, all right, but what do you plan to do with it?”
“I’m taking you camping. We’ve got this beauty for a whole week before she has to go back to the rental place.”
Candice scrambled for an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of spending time alone with Austin, but the RV didn’t look very reliable. “We can’t just leave Mrs. Merryweather, Austin.”
“She can come with us.”
“And what about Tiny and Lucy?”
Austin shrugged. “We can board them. If you don’t want to do that, I’m sure Jack wouldn’t mind house-sitting.” He grunted. “I’d say Jack owes us.”
“Well,” Mrs. Merryweather announced without regret, “I can’t go. I’m terribly allergic to poison ivy.” Candice caught the calculating gleam in the housekeeper’s eyes just seconds before she added, “But I think you should go with him, Mrs. Dale. The fresh air will be good for you.”
“And for the baby,” Austin added, unwittingly resurrecting in Candice that old, nearly forgotten flame of jealousy.
She stared at the monstrosity sitting in her driveway for a long, considering moment.
What the heck. If it wasn’t for Austin and his rather wild ideas, she would never get out of the house.
Austin draped an arm over her shoulder, his voice persuasive. “Just think—fresh air, a cozy campfire, hot dogs, roasted marshmallows, and best of all, my company. You can have it all.”
Relaxing in the circle of his arm, she tilted her head to look into his innocent-looking face. “Mosquitos?”
“Not where we’re going.”
“Snakes?”
“Not the poisonous kind.”
Mrs. Merryweather decided to join the game. “What about bears?”
Austin remained serene. “They don’t bother you if you don’t bother them.” He cocked an eyebrow in challenge. “Anything else?”
Warming to the game, Mrs. Merryweather waved a hand at the RV. “What if you break down?” Her dubious tone indicated she thought it a distinct possibility.
“I’ve repaired the engine in my truck more times than I care to remember.”
When Candice cast him a questioning look about this revelation, he bent his head and whispered in her ear, “We don’t usually get around to talking much when we’re together.” His low, teasing reminder made her blush. He was right. Their midnight meeting had ended in frenzied lovemaking that involved the kitchen counter and an ice cube.
The ice cube hadn’t lasted long in the heat they’d generated.
“Well, if you’re set on going camping, I’d better start packing the food.” Mrs. Merryweather fixed a stern eye on Austin. “I won’t have Mrs. Dale living on hot dogs and marshmallows for a week, so don’t you even think it.”
“I’ll help you,” Candice offered, following the housekeeper inside.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Merryweather began to pull a large assortment of Tupperware from the cabinets. “Where do you suppose he got the money to rent that motor home? They don’t come cheap, I’m sure of that.”
“This one must have,” Candice muttered dryly, smiling when Mrs. Merryweather lifted a graying eyebrow in agreement. “As to where he got the money, he says he inherited it from his father. For reasons he didn’t care to explain, he hasn’t touched it until now.”
The housekeeper nodded. “That would explain the article, then.”
“What article?”
“This one.” Mrs. Merryweather opened a drawer and pulled out a yellowed newspaper. She handed it to Candice, then tapped a blunt finger against the article on the front page.
“Drummond Hyde. From what I read, he’s not the kind of father a boy could be proud of.”
Candice lifted her startled gaze to the housekeeper’s. “You think Drummond Hyde was Austins father?”
Mrs. Merryweather shrugged, a troubled frown deepening the lines in her face. “I found a pile of newspapers in the back seat of the Cadillac, this one among them. Read the article and see for yourself.”
Chapter Seventeen
Mrs. Merryweather prepared and packed enough food for an entire Boy Scout troop, which didn’t seem to surprise Candice but boggled Austin.
The next morning, before the dew had time to disappear beneath a warm sun, he and Candice said their good-byes to the tearful housekeeper.
Or at least they attempted to.
Austin recognized Mrs. Merry weather’s stalling techniques and tried to be patient. He took the time to look his fill at Candice while the two women talked.
Candice looked fresh and sexy in a pair of loose-fitting denim shorts and a plain cotton T-shirt. His gaze lingered appreciatively on her breasts, where the material stretched tight. He guessed she’d been caught off guard by her increasing bustline. Tearing his gaze from the delectable sight, he forced himself to tune in to the conversation.
Maybe he’d see an opportunity to cut it short.
“Austin says the RV is equipped with a cell phone,” Candice reassured Mrs. Merryweather. “When we get to where we’re going,’ we’ll call and let you know that we made it. Won’t we, Austin?”
Austin nodded dutifully. He saw no need to mention the cell phone didn’t work. After all, he hadn’t exactly lied. It was equipped with one.
Mrs. Merryweather continued to fret. “What if those reporters are waiting? What if they follow you?”
“I’ll lose them,” Austin informed her in a tone he hoped would pacify the housekeeper. “If that doesn’t work, I have a few friends on the police force who would be more than happy to intervene.”
After another fifteen minutes of what seemed like senseless talk, Austin managed to tug Candice into the passenger seat of the RV. He closed the door and stepped around the hovering housekeeper.
Mrs. Merryweather followed him to the driver’s side, relentless in her quest for reassurance. “You’ll take good care of her?”
“Of course.” He climbed behind the wheel and started to pull the door shut. Mrs. Merryweather caught the edge and stopped him. Austin was finding it hard to believe the housekeeper had been gung ho for the trip yesterday. He hated to admit it, but it irked his pride that she obviously didn’t trust him.
“You promise to call the moment you’re there safely?”
Austin hesitated. Surely they would be able to find a pay phone. “I promise.” Finally, he was allowed to shut the door and start the engine. He carefully turned the RV around and headed for the gates.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Candice asked anxiously as he maneuvered the cumbersome motor home onto the road.
“You’re worried about the fire-breathing dragon? A woman who can make a grown man tremble in his boots?”
&nb
sp; “She’s not that bad!” Candice protested, but he saw her lips twitching.
“Don’t worry.” Austin was silent for a moment as he concentrated on coaxing the sluggish vehicle along the uphill ramp and onto the freeway. “She’s got her pellet gun, and now she’s got Tiny.”
“But—”
“And I’ve asked Jack to check in on her every day.”
“Oh, good. She trusts Dr. Jack.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Austin mumbled beneath his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He checked his mirrors and glanced from side to side for suspicious-looking vehicles or news vans. When he was satisfied they weren’t being followed, he finally relaxed, enjoying the warm wind gushing in through his open window.
He could hardly believe his luck. This was his chance to show Candice the time of her life, to prove to her just how much he cherished her, how much he loved her. Oh, he wasn’t going to tell her, not yet, but he wasn’t going to show her that there was much more between them than physical attraction. Instead of making love, they were going to talk, spend quality time finding out about each other.
Sliding a quick glance at her slim, curvy legs, Austin chuckled to himself. His decision to ban sex from the camping trip might just prove to be not only painful but impossible.
It would be worth the agony, however, if together they created timeless memories that later she would remember warmly—later being the time when she hated him for deceiving her.
Austin winced inwardly, recalling how close he had come to blowing it by leaving his checkbook lying around. Well, hell, he hadn’t expected her to actually look inside and see he had deposited fifty thousand dollars. In fact, he had deliberately put the entire tasteless exchange from his mind after writing Pete Clancy his check.
He snuck a glance at Candice, smiling as she fought to keep her windblown hair out of her face. She was definitely worth it, and more, he mused. He would have paid Clancy whatever he asked to gain time to spend with Candice and to postpone the shock. At this stage of her pregnancy, he felt it best to avoid any and all forms of stress.
Mr. Hyde’s Assets Page 20