Beauty and the Beastmaster (The Masterson Series Book 1)

by Carol Devine

  "Spare me, okay?" Amanda retorted, but the candid plea stayed with her. Damn him. Confession might be good for his soul, but she didn't like how his admission cut into hers. What percentage of his pay went into caring for those big cats? Could their welfare really be at risk?

  "My attorney says if you win, I'm personally liable for any damages. I could lose my family’s ranch because of your lawsuit. My great-great grand daddy homesteaded that land in the 1860’s. It's been in my family for five generations."

  He wasn’t just laying it on thick, he was shoveling it in her face. She resented the heavy-handed tactics, trotted out to prey on her sympathy. "What do I have to do? Draw a picture? I'm not going to change my mind."

  "Yes, you are. The question is when."

  Rather than fall for that old line, she rolled her eyes.

  "I've told you my story, Mandy. When are you going to do the same and come clean?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "I keep thinking there has to be an explanation. What's motivating you? You don't need the money. Your family is loaded and I've since discovered you have a tidy sum of your own."

  "How dare you invade my privacy!"

  "Don't be coy. I'm sure your private investigator's as thorough as mine. You moved out to Colorado after graduating from Yale Law School. You've been with the D.A.'s office for almost five years. You live in a high-rise apartment house along Cherry Creek."

  "You got that out of the newspapers. It's all common knowledge."

  "How about this? Not many people remember you were only twelve years old when your father died. Since then, you've been relentless in molding yourself into a perfect reflection of him. Rumor says you hope to finish the work your father started, first as a prosecutor, then as a politician."

  "Pure speculation," she sniffed and studied her toes, not wanting him to know how close he'd hit the mark.

  "You're discreet in all relationships, especially sexual ones. The investigator uncovered only two former lovers, both long-term. You've got plenty of acquaintances but few close friends. You have enemies, but the consensus is they're jealous of your looks, smarts and family connections, in that order. You're loyal, stubborn and a pain in the ass to work with because of your high standards. You never give up and never give in."

  "You got that much right."

  "Funny how we have so much in common. I don't give up either. We may stay stuck in this elevator all night."

  She eyed the stop button. "Speak for yourself. I've got better things to do with my time."

  "I don't."

  "Somehow," she snapped, "that doesn't surprise me."

  She slipped past him and punched the button. To her amazement, he made no move to stop her. The elevator doors opened, revealing the parking garage. "This is your last chance," she warned. "Get out."

  "No need to lose your temper, Mandy. A gentleman always respects a lady's request." He stepped from the elevator, surprising her yet again. She half expected him to argue forever. "See you around," he added.

  He walked away, the heels of his boots echoing off the bare cement walls. The doors closed, cutting off the lonely sound. She stood for several seconds, turning his parting shot over in her mind. The last thing she needed was to have him pop up when she least expected. She was tired, tired of worrying about the animals and tired of spending so much of her life thinking about him. She hit the open door button. He'd almost reached her car. "How far is this ranch of yours?" she called.

  He did a slow pivot. "About forty miles."

  "Forty miles! By the time I get home, it'll be after midnight.” She walked forward, calculating. "I don't want to continue this fight any more than you do. Here's my final offer. Get Natasha out of my car and I'll schedule time to visit your ranch."

  "When?"

  "The weekend after next."

  "Too late."

  "Look, my time is very precious."

  "Amanda, if you don't have time to come to the ranch, it's very simple. Drop the suit."

  “I can’t. Not in good conscience."

  "Then we’ll be here all night. I’ve got nothing left to lose."

  Amanda rubbed her temples, trying to think of a compromise she could live with. There wasn’t much room to maneuver. If he was as desperate as he said he was, he wouldn't care what happened to him. What he cared about was his precious ranch and the animals that lived on it. Right now she was about to drop from weariness and the weekend was already shot. Natasha and the other cats were the only mitigating factors. Amanda had to admit she wouldn't mind checking on their living conditions firsthand. And the sooner, the better. She had to get this thing resolved in order to get on with her life.

  "If I go with you, I wouldn't be very good company. It's been a long week and I've been up since five o'clock this morning."

  "Understood." He herded her to the car as though she'd agreed and the negotiating was over.

  She halted. "Wait a minute."

  "Now what?"

  "I didn't say I would go. I said, IF I go."

  "Dammit, Mandy! Are you coming or not?"

  Amanda snorted. She must be more exhausted than she thought to even consider going with him. Never mind the tiger or her car. She should phone for a taxi. She might have to wait a few minutes but she could be safe at home within the hour.

  "Miz Tarkenton!"

  Tom lumbered up the ramp from the street level of the garage. Masterson stepped in front of her as if to greet Tom first. Amanda caught the hem of his jacket and tugged before he could open his mouth. If Tom got a look at Tasha, he'd demand an explanation, wasting more valuable time.

  She skirted around Masterson and waved at Tom. "Let me do the talking," she warned in a quick aside, sparing a glance toward her car. Natasha stuck her head out the window, watching the new arrival with great interest. "Hi, there, Tom" she said, praying the tiger wouldn't let loose with another noisy greeting. "What are you doing here?"

  "Heard voices," he puffed and halted. "Didn't find anyone on the street, so I'm making a sweep of the garage." His gaze slid to Masterson. "Hey, I know you. You're the Beastmaster guy."

  Bram offered a handshake. "You must be Tom. Glad to meet you."

  Tom pumped the hand. "Ain't you two suing each other?"

  "Mandy is the one doing all the suing. But that's a hell of an idea.”

  Amanda could have kicked him. "Tom Gray, meet Abraham Masterson. Mr. Masterson, let me introduce you to our night security guard."

  "Call me Bram. Everyone but Mandy does."

  "Hey, could I get your autograph? My wife and I are big fans."

  "Sure."

  Amanda seethed while Tom patted his pockets and produced a pen and memo pad. "Mildred's in front of the TV every Friday night for the weekly Superstud Event. She especially likes it when you choose a woman out of the audience. One of these days, when you find the right one, she says you'll settle down and turn your evil ways into good."

  "I don't know," Bram replied, winking at Amanda. "Most folks tell me I'm beyond redemption."

  Amanda stepped to the fore, hoping Masterson would take the hint and keep his mouth shut. "Mr. Masterson and I met to discuss the lawsuit. I should have told you he would be here. It slipped my mind when I heard that loud noise. Did you find out what it was?"

  "Firecrackers." Tom shook his gray head in disgust. "Set all around the building."

  "You're kidding," said Bram. "How inconsiderate, right, Mandy? I hope you find the adolescent prankster who set them."

  Tom perked up. "Did you see a teenager hanging around?"

  Bram nodded. "As a matter of fact,--"

  Amanda dug an elbow into his cotton-covered stomach.

  "No," Bram finished, coughing. "Did you, Mandy?" His hand cupped her elbow, enfolding it in the inescapable hollow of his broad palm.

  "Maybe someone threw them from a car," Amanda said, hoping to cut the conversation short before she was tempted to bop Masterson another one. "At any rate, I--"
r />   "Or from this building," Bram suggested. "This parking garage is wide open."

  "Could be." Tom cast a considering eye at Bram. "That reminds me. I don't remember signing you in tonight."

  Bram shrugged. "Bet I got here before your shift started. I've been hanging around awhile since I forgot to ask Mandy what time she got off work. For some reason I thought she'd be the first one out the door at five o'clock."

  "You've been waiting since when?" Amanda asked.

  "About four-thirty actually."

  "Miz Tarkenton never leaves before nine."

  "A regular workaholic, huh? Mandy, you're just chock full of surprises."

  "I'm not the only one," she retorted. "The truth is, Tom, those firecrackers were probably set by some kids out doing their usual stupid stuff on a Friday night. Nothing to worry about."

  Bram clamped a friendly hand on Tom’s back. “I don’t know about that, Tom. Could be they were deliberately set to draw you out of the garage."

  "Are you sure neither one of you saw anyone on the premises?"

  "No," said Amanda.

  "Yes," said Bram.

  Two pairs of eyes turned to him, one dismayed, the other eager.

  Tom retrieved his cell phone and began inputting notes. "Can you give me a description?"

  "Big guy, dark hair. Nabbing him will be like trying to catch a tiger by the tail."

  That did it. Amanda stepped back and placed the heel of her shoe squarely on the toe of Masterson's boot .

  "Ow!"

  "Oh, Bram, I am sorry. Are you alright?"

  Bram hopped on one foot, his leg drawn up so he could cradle it. "Ever thought about classifying those heels as lethal weapons?"

  "About that description ... " Tom prodded.

  Bram shrugged, nursing his foot. "The guy was running away. I didn't get a good look at him.”

  Amanda clamped a hand on Bram's arm and flashed a brilliant smile at Tom. "Mr. Masterson promised to take me to dinner, so if you don't mind, we better get going."

  The security guard nodded. "I'll walk you both back to the car."

  "Oh, Tom, don't be silly. That's not necessary. You've been away from your post long enough." Amanda indicated the elevator with one hand while holding onto Masterson with the other. He, of course, was no help whatsoever. Beyond him, Tasha sat watching, inscrutable and unexplainable .

  "Ms. Tarkenton, I can't go until you do. You know that. Policy is policy."

  Bram tucked her hand through his arm. "Two strong men as escorts, Mandy. What more could you ask for?"

  Amanda cast a murderous glare at Masterson. He winked. She wanted to hit him. Explaining Tasha would be impossible. The security guard was already suspicious. Coupled with his chivalrous nature and protective attitude and Amanda knew that once he saw the tiger, Tom would call the police no matter what she said. That might serve Masterson right, but then she'd be stuck here for hours, giving statements. Not to mention what it might do to Tasha. The resultant publicity would make the last month look like a vacation.

  Amanda dropped Masterson's arm. "Tom? You're such a dear," she gushed, steering the security guard toward the car in brisk fashion. If she rushed and kept him talking, she might get lucky. "I'll have to be sure and put in a good word about you to my boss. No job is too small for someone of your experience and dedication. I guess that's why you've been here so long."

  "Fourteen years next month," he admitted.

  "Imagine, fourteen years guarding the cradle of Denver's law enforcement community.” While Amanda made sure her body shielded Tom's view of the car, she saw Natasha's head sink out of sight. Thank God for small favors. "What a great story you'll be able to share with Mildred tonight."

  "Aw, this is minor. Them firecrackers were probably thrown by some teenagers out on a joyride. Happens every weekend."

  "I'm sure when they saw you were on the job, they, what’s the word? Skedaddled."

  Tom opened the driver's side door for her. Amanda situated herself on his right so he couldn't get a clear view of the inside of the car and see the tawny spread of fur laid out on the back seat. If she could just keep his attention for a few seconds longer.

  Firecrackers exploded.

  "There he is!" Masterson yelled and ran by them.

  Tom hurried to Masterson’s side and peered over the open balcony.

  Amanda did her part and ran over to investigate, too. All the while, she cursed inwardly, knowing it was a ruse. Another stupid diversionary tactic.

  "I'll go check it out," Tom said.

  Amanda counted to ten after he disappeared before rounding on Masterson. "What a despicable thing to do. You're going to give the poor man a heart attack."

  "It worked better than your simpering small talk." His voice rose in a mimicking falsetto. “Oh, Tom you are such a dear. No job is too small for someone with your talent and experience."

  "If you hadn't opened your big mouth--"

  "My big mouth! What about yours? Punks don't skedaddle, Mandy. You were so uptight, you were babbling."

  "I was attempting to save your Neanderthal neck. Something, obviously, your puny brain can't understand."

  "You pulled the wool over dear Tom's eyes on my account? There's hope for us yet."

  "Us? What's that supposed to mean?"

  He thumped his chest with a fist. "Me, Tarzan. You, Jane. Remember?"

  "Don't get any ideas. I was looking out for Tasha. Once Tom caught a glimpse of her, there's no telling what would have happened. I don't need any more hassles tonight."

  "Whatever." He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the car.

  "Wait a minute. I don't remember agreeing to anything."

  "Don't you? And I quote, 'Mr. Masterson promised to take me to dinner.'"

  "I said that to encourage Tom to leave. I wanted to exit gracefully, with as little fuss as possible."

  "What grace. By the time you got him over to the car, you were practically sucking on his ear."

  "I was trying to prevent him from spotting Tasha!"

  "Sure."

  "For Pete’s sake, the man's married and a grandfather to boot."

  "Anything for the cause."

  "I wouldn't suck his ear, as you so indelicately put it, even if it had occurred to me. And I don't know how we got on this ridiculous subject. To be perfectly frank, I find this entire conversation idiotic in the extreme."

  "I find it rather stimulating." The smug smile had returned.

  "You're disgusting."

  He patted her hand. "Not many women challenge my intellect the way you do, Mandy."

  "Stop calling me that!"

  "Why should I?"

  "Only my father called me by that name."

  "Then your father's got company."

  "Have you no respect for anyone else's feelings except your own?"

  "I was about to ask the same question of you."

  "You're the one who initiated this insulting conversation. You're the one who repeatedly calls me by a name I've asked you numerous times not to use."

  "And you're the one who refuses to call me by my first name. Why is that, Mandy?"

  "Untrue, Bram,” she said and stuck out her tongue. Whatever possessed her to do such a childish thing, she didn't know. Masterson had a knack for bringing out her worst.

  His gaze fixated on her mouth. "Hmmm. Just as I thought. Full of ear hairs."

  Amanda ducked her head to maintain a straight face. Don't you dare laugh, she ordered herself. It wasn't funny. Never mind that it was based on truth. Tom did have little tufts of hair coming from his ears. "You've gone too far this time," she choked out.

  "What's this? Do I detect a giggle?"

  "I am not giggling."

  She had to turn her back on him. Her face ached from clenching her jaw. A definite stitch shook her sides.

  "Not even a teensy one?" he asked.

  His hands settled on her shoulders as he tried to check the expression on her face. Divided by genuine mirth and a deli
cious giddiness, she caught her breath. He was flirting with her. Good grief. If she wasn't careful, the man would think the attraction was mutual.

  "No!" She slipped from his grasp and rounded on him, sober and utterly serious. "Let me make this very clear. If you touch me again, I'll see that Tasha is taken away from you. Do you understand me?"

  "Mandy, Mandy, Mandy. I guess this means we're back to square one. I know you don't give a damn about me or my problems. You care about Tasha. That's fine. Dandy in fact. Because I have lots of Tashas. I've been taking in exotics like her for five years now. Big cats that are too old to perform or too sick to defend themselves, mixed breeds, runts, whatever. I get them from zoos, circuses, private owners. I take them when no one else will. That's why I can't afford the lawsuit. I need money to feed and house them. Not to mention payroll for three people with families who help me care for them all."

  Amanda blanched. The last thing she expected from this man was the truth. He had a way of twisting things, expressions, language, emotions that left her feeling off balance, as if she didn't get the joke. Before Masterson, she'd always gotten the joke. Before Masterson, she'd invented them for situations such as these, situations where sentiment clogged her throat, situations in which emotion threatened to affect judgment.

  Because Tasha's magnificence did move her. The yearning came back, full force. Again she wondered what it would be like to see a big cat up close.

  "I'll even provide dinner," he said. "Deal?"

  "What if I refuse?"

  "I'll lose everything I care about. "

  Amanda swallowed, knowing what that admission cost him. She could feel the reality of it twist her gut, hear his pride in the long tense silence that followed. She knew about pride, about what an exacting master it was. Hers had been here all along, rising up to do battle, unable to admit that this man didn't scare her physically. He scared her emotionally. And she was just beginning to understand why. She respected him. There was much more to Bram Masterson than met the eye.