His mouth shifted over hers, firm and experienced, with more assurance than ever. Where before he’d coax her lips apart, this time he demanded. She didn’t want to resist, it seemed so pointless. So she didn’t. Her mouth parted beneath his and she shuddered in the taking, the clever parry of tongue and nip of teeth, combined with the sweet, sweet flavor of him.
The sofa cushions caught her as Rebecca fell backward. Alex followed her down, settling angles over the soft give of her body, angles that had grown sharper and more defined with the passage of the years. While his hands coasted along her sides and swept upward beneath the flowing cotton blouse she wore, hers made short work of the buttons hindering her own path. At long last, she yanked apart the edges of his shirt and found the warmth beneath, reacquainting herself with every muscular knot and burl.
He followed suit and she shuddered at the sweep of the calloused ridges of his fingers and palms. He might be one of the wealthiest businessmen in the state, but at heart he was, and always would be, one with the land. El Diablo wasn’t just a rich man’s toy. It was a working ranch, and based on the calluses on his hands and the lean, sculpted expanse beneath her fingers, he worked it himself.
His hands stroked upward until they closed over her unfettered breasts, cupping the weight of them in his palms. “I could never get over the softness of your skin. It feels like velvet. But when I look at it… I swear, it’s paler than moonbeams.”
His thumbs drifted across the tips of her breasts in a tantalizing circle and the softest of moans escaped her. She couldn’t help herself. She cupped his face, tracing the elegant contours. Sweeping cheekbones above shallow hollows. A wide mouth that begged to be kissed, framed by deep brackets of painful experience. A squared jaw with just the shadow of an indent, one she’d traced with her index finger on countless occasions.
She slid her hands into his hair to anchor him in place, taking private delight in gaining control of the embrace. Lifting upward, she nibbled at his lips, teasing at them until he groaned and sank back against her. She parted her legs to give him more room, running her bare foot along his calf, secretly amused as she pressed a series of wrinkles into the crisp material of his trouser leg. She wanted to take the urbane businessman and strip away the outer layer of sophistication, to reduce him to that elemental core that made him so unique and distinctive. To find again the pure masculine essence of the man she’d fallen in love with.
It was a moment out of time. A moment of indulgence. A moment that came to a shocking end when the door to the library slammed open against the wall.
“What the hell is going on?” Sebastian Huntington demanded.
Her father’s arrival snapped her out of her sensual haze as effectively as a hypnotist snapping his subject out of a trance. She knew there was no point in trying to shove Alex off her. For one thing, he was far too heavy and strong, particularly if he had no intention of getting off—which she suspected was true in this case. Plus, the damage had been done.
Alex glanced across the room at her father and bared his teeth in a wolfish smile. “You’re interrupting a private moment,” he said. “Next time, you might consider knocking before you barge in.”
Sebastian stared, stunned. “It…it’s my house,” he sputtered in protest. “I don’t have to knock to enter a room in my own house.”
“You do if you want to avoid scenes like this.” Alex levered himself off Rebecca and shoved his hands through the hair she’d taken such delight in rumpling. Then he held out his hand and helped her escape the embrace of the sofa cushions. He took his time buttoning his shirt and tucking it into his trousers. He didn’t bother to adjust his tie, but left it dangling. “I see you’re still as arrogant as ever, Huntington. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
“Alex,” Rebecca attempted to intercede.
He simply shook his head. “This doesn’t involve you, Becca.”
“But—”
He shot her a single look and she fell silent. Unfortunately, he was right. This was none of her business, other than the fact that her father was somehow involved. She wasn’t privy to whatever information he had about the missing money, or what mistakes might have occurred that led Alex to believe her father had committed the crime. But she could stand beside her father and support him while he cleared up the misunderstanding.
“What are you doing here?” Sebastian demanded. He shot Rebecca a look of intense rebuke. “Other than attacking my daughter.”
“Is that how it looked to you?” A genuine grin broke across Alex’s face. “Well, whatever allows you to sleep at night.”
Dull color crept up the older man’s cheekbones. “I repeat. Why are you here?”
“I’ve been asked to come. The board of the TCC requested it.”
To Rebecca’s horror, every scrap of color drained from her father’s face. His jaw worked for a moment before he managed to say, “I don’t believe you.”
“Discrepancies have been discovered in the club’s financial accounts. Checks have been paid out to at least one bogus company.” His mouth took on a taunting slant. “Checks you endorsed.”
Sebastian’s hands clenched into fists. “The only checks I’ve written have been in response to legitimate billing statements.”
Alex folded his arms across his chest. “Like to Helping Hearts?”
Rebecca frowned. “Don’t you mean Helping Hands?” she asked. “That’s the women’s shelter where Summer works. Aren’t they part of an outreach program that the Texas Cattleman’s Club funds?”
“Helping Hands is the outreach program we assist. I couldn’t tell you what Helping Hearts is,” Alex replied. Though he addressed Rebecca, his gaze remained fixed on Sebastian. “But since your father cut several generous checks to them, I’m hoping he can tell me. Especially considering all of them were cashed at the same bank by none other than the president of that fine, upstanding institution—who, coincidentally enough, joined TCC shortly before the first check was cashed.” He allowed that information to sink in. “So explain it to your daughter, Sebastian. What exactly is Helping Hearts?”
To Rebecca’s shock, beads of sweat broke out across her father’s forehead. “I’d have to check the records, examine the invoices, assuming they can be found.”
“That’s easy enough. I have a copy of the checks in question, all signed by you and approved by your banker friend, Rhymes. But the invoices are conveniently missing.”
Sebastian’s chin lifted. “Then I don’t see how I can help you.”
“All of the invoices for Helping Hearts are missing,” Alex repeated softly. “Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
“It happens. They were probably misfiled.”
“Or shredded, assuming they ever existed.”
Sebastian shrugged. “If that’s all…?”
“Not even close. There’s going to be an audit, Huntington. And when it’s done, you will be, as well. How much will they find missing? From what little we’ve been able to dig up, it’s in the neighborhood of three hundred grand.”
“Dad!”
Sebastian flinched. “You have no right—”
Alex stepped forward, his voice low and hard. “We have every right, you son of a bitch. You sit in your fine mansion and act as though you’re somehow superior to everyone else.”
“I can trace my birthright back to—”
Alex cut him off. “Who cares? You think that will matter to the board? Save it for your cellmates. Maybe they’ll give a damn who your ancestors were and what they accomplished. Personally, I don’t see a pedigree when I look at you. All I see is a thief.”
Sebastian pulled at his tie as though it were choking him. “You have no proof!”
“How long do you think it’ll take for me to get it? Do you think Rhymes will stand by you when we trace those checks back to him and accuse him of fraud? Where do you think he’ll point the finger, especially if he’s offered a deal?” Sebastian’s breath quickened and he wiped his brow with a hand t
hat trembled, but it was clear that Alex wasn’t finished. “Just like Gentry is going to point the finger at you as the instigator when we pin him for torching Brody Oil and Gas and my barn.”
“What?”
Sebastian stumbled and Rebecca darted to his side, helping him to the nearest chair. Then she hurried across the room and splashed a generous finger of whiskey into a tumbler. Returning to her father’s side, she pressed the glass into his hands.
“Easy, Dad. Drink this.”
“I swear to you, Rebecca,” he said in an undertone. “I had nothing to do with those fires. I have no idea what Montoya is talking about.”
She believed him. “Why would my father ask his foreman to set those fires?” she demanded of Alex. “What possible motive could he have?”
“We wondered the same thing,” he admitted. “But considering how everyone’s been running around like a bunch of crazed ants when their anthill has been kicked over, the motive became clear enough. Your father needed to keep the Brodys, me and several other key members of the TCC too busy to look at the accounts. To keep us fighting among ourselves while he covered his tracks.”
“You’re insane,” Sebastian whispered. Then his eyes widened. “My God! You think I don’t see what’s going on here? You’re behind the arson fires—assuming it really was arson.”
Alex laughed in genuine amusement. “Why would I burn my own barn?”
“To implicate me.” Her father’s voice grew more assertive. “You’re a fool, Montoya, if you think anyone will believe me capable of such an act. They’ll all see this for what it really is—your petty stab at revenge for my having fired your mother all those years ago. I had nothing to do with those fires. Nothing.”
She couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t deny dipping into TCC funds and her heart sank. “The money?” she asked tentatively.
He tossed back the whiskey, then closed his eyes and nodded his head. For a full thirty seconds, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t seem to process the truth. Then it all came crashing down on her. No. Oh, please, no. How could her father have done such a thing? Why would he?
Aware of Alex’s intent gaze, she slowly straightened and faced him. “If—and I stress the word if—my father did contribute to some sort of accounting error—”
“So gently put.” Alex’s expression hardened. “It’s called embezzlement, Becca. He stole the money.”
She pressed her lips together to keep them from betraying her panic. “If he stole the money, will you give him an opportunity to return it?”
“I don’t have it,” Sebastian said wearily. “I invested it and the investment hasn’t come through yet.”
A small cry of distress escaped, despite her best efforts to control it. “Why? Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because he’s arrogant.” Alex answered the question before Sebastian had the opportunity. “Because he feels he’s entitled.”
“Because I’m on the verge of bankruptcy and thought this investment would turn everything around. Rodriquez swore it would.”
Rebecca could literally feel the change in the atmosphere, the way it stilled and thickened. “Rodriquez?” Alex repeated. “Paulo?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Paulo. El Gato. Your old friend from the barrio. I didn’t realize he was behind the investment opportunities until it was too late to pull out. The first few ventures went well enough. We both made a modest amount of money. But then, it all went to hell. I realized I was in far deeper than I’d planned.”
“How?” Alex demanded.
“He offered to let me pay a mere pittance of my actual stake, and foolishly I went along. When the deal went south, I had to come up with the balance of the money, fast. That’s when I found out the identity of my new partner.” He gave Alex a pained look. “I don’t have to tell you that Rodriquez plays for keeps.”
“So you stole the money from TCC.”
“Yes. The plan was to replace it as soon as I received my return on our final investment.”
“Only it didn’t work out quite that way. That investment went sour, as well.”
Sebastian’s mouth twisted. “I see you know how it works. I should have figured it out long before I did and cut my losses. Instead, I borrowed—”
“Stole,” Alex cut in.
Sebastian’s head jerked up and he glared across the room. “You want your pound of flesh, don’t you, boy?”
Alex took a single step in Sebastian’s direction, but it was enough to make the older man shrink into his chair. “First, Huntington, I’m no longer a boy. I haven’t been since the day you destroyed my family.”
“You destroyed them yourself!” Sebastian fought back. “If you’d kept your hands off my daughter, none of this would have happened.”
Alex continued as though he’d never been interrupted. “And second, you’re right. I intend to have my pound of flesh. Every last ounce of it. I appreciate your making it so easy for me.”
Sebastian rose to his feet, trembling with the effort. “Fine. I stole. Does that make you happy? I stole money from TCC and gave it to Rodriquez. He swore this last deal would finish the matter between us.” He laughed without humor. “He was right. It has. I have no more money to give him—hell, I still owe him a bloody fortune—and I don’t doubt that I’ll soon hear that our investment met with tragic results.”
“Count on it.” Alex folded his arms across his chest. “So, if you’re on the verge of bankruptcy, how do you plan to pay back the money?” He glanced around. “I suppose you could always sell your home, and the land that’s been in your family for countless generations. Move to more modest accommodations.”
A hideous silence settled over them, one that Rebecca finally broke. “I’ll sell Sweet Nothings,” she said quietly. “I own the building, as well as the business. There should be more than enough to cover what my father owes the club, and possibly El Gato, too.”
“No,” Sebastian and Alex said in unison.
If circumstances had been different, she’d have smiled at their unusual accord. But right now, she didn’t find anything about the situation even remotely amusing. “Neither of you has any say in this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Alex corrected her. “This is your father’s debt and he’ll pay it, not you.”
“You can’t stop me, Alex,” she argued. “If I choose to liquidate Sweet Nothings, that’s my business.”
“And when word gets out about the reason for liquidating your shop?” Alex shot back. “Somerset’s a small town. Do you really think your father will be able to hold his head up when everyone learns that he’s a thief? That he allowed his daughter to bail him out? It won’t be long before he sells, if only because he can no longer handle the whispers and looks of disgust. The sheer humiliation of it all. Who will welcome the Huntingtons into their homes?” He allowed that to sink in. “No one. You will be outcasts.”
“You have a better suggestion?” Rebecca demanded.
“He sells his homestead to me. The money is replaced quietly, with no scandal. I’ll handle Rodriquez. And then your father leaves Maverick County. I’ll see to it that he has sufficient funds to keep him in comfort for the rest of his days—assuming he’s careful and doesn’t make any more risky business ventures. But Huntington Manor will become Montoya property from this point forward.”
Three
“Get out!” Sebastian snarled. “Get out of my home, you vulture. I’ll find my own solution to this mess. This land will never bear your name. Never, do you hear me?”
Alex just smiled. “You have three days to return the money to TCC or the board will be contacting the authorities. They’ve also relieved you as treasurer and appointed Mitch Brody in your place. Consider your membership officially suspended.” He picked up his suit jacket from the back of the chair where he’d left it and shrugged it on. “I’ll see myself out.”
Rebecca spared a brief, anguished glance at her father, and followed Alex. She caught up with him in the foy
er. “Wait.”
He paused by the front door and turned to confront her. “You’d be wise to stay out of this, Rebecca.”
So formal. So cold. Even so, she couldn’t let him go. Not without doing everything within her power to stop events from moving any further along this path of destruction. It didn’t matter if she had to swallow every last ounce of pride. If it meant a quiet and reasonable solution to her father’s dilemma, she’d do it. “Please, Alex. There must be another way of resolving this.”
He turned on her. “I’ve never met a woman who possesses even a tenth of the loyalty you display toward your father,” he marveled. “It doesn’t matter what he does to you, to the people dependent on him for a living, to casual bystanders who get in his way. You still defend him.”
She shook her head in instant denial. “I’m not defending him. If he stole the money—”
Alex lifted an eyebrow. “If?” he repeated softly.
She hovered between crazed laughter and tears. “I know he stole the money.” The wound was so new and raw, she couldn’t even fully feel the hurt. But she didn’t doubt for a minute that would change. And soon. “I guess I haven’t digested it yet.”
“I suggest you start. As of tomorrow, your life will take a dramatic change.”
“My life?” She stared at him, not understanding. “It’s my father—”
He simply shook his head. “You’ve lived in Somerset all your life and still you don’t know how things work?” he said with disbelief. “How many of your so-called friends will stand beside you when it’s discovered that your father is a thief?”
It took her an instant to comprehend his words. “But they’re my friends,” she replied. “Why wouldn’t they—”
He gave a short, hard laugh. “Grow up, Becca. Your father is already teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. He earns—earned—his living investing other people’s money. Who do you think will invest their money with him after this? Do you think they won’t wonder whether he somehow scammed them during one of their past associations? That they won’t make accusations, if only to one another?”
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