Like Silk

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  He shook his head violently. “I’m not going to marry you, Lana.”

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked, her voice growing more sultry. He wasn’t fooled. Underneath, he heard that core of steel and knew she wasn’t going down without a fight. His hopes of an easy out faded. Yet he wasn’t about to back down or back off. Still, he had to try and settle this with as much civility as possible. “After I’ve told you how I feel, you’d go through with it? Marry me anyway?”

  “Without question.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe I don’t love you, either. Have you ever thought of that?”

  “No.” How had this conversation gotten so damned derailed?

  “Well, I do, but probably not in the way most people love their spouses.”

  “God, Lana, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Oh, yes, my darling, I am. Much more than you are.”

  He didn’t say anything. Frankly he didn’t know what to say.

  “Have you forgotten what’s important to you?”

  Only Brittany. “Of course not,” he said harshly.

  “Oh, I think you have,” she countered, once again licking her lips.

  He withdrew his eyes from that gesture, knowing she was trying to turn him on and, in the end, lure him into her bed. Suddenly he was repulsed by her, and by this entire dialogue.

  “Make your point,” he said in a weary voice.

  “The federal bench. That’s my point. You want to become a judge, right?”

  “Yes,” he said tightly.

  “Then marry me, and voilà, you’ll have it.”

  “Sure.” Collier didn’t bother to mask the sarcasm in his tone.

  This time her eyes flared, and she rose to her feet. “Have you forgotten my daddy and how much influence he wields, especially with Senator Riley?”

  “No, but so does Mason.”

  “Trust me, you and me tying the knot would seal it.” She paused as if to let that tidbit settle in. “Are you willing to give that up?”

  He shook his head. “You think I’d marry you just to get ahead?”

  She stiffened. “You could do worse.”

  “Sure I could, because you have a lot to offer. I can’t imagine why you’d want to waste your life marrying a man who doesn’t love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

  “Love has nothing to do with it.”

  “It does to me,” he said flatly, heading toward the door. Once there, he swung back around. “And so does the sanctity of marriage.”

  “Collier,” she snapped, “don’t you dare walk out on me.”

  He softened his features. “We’ll talk later, when you’re thinking more rationally.”

  “Damn you!” she yelled. “No one walks out on me.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, then said, “Take care of yourself.”

  Mason peered at his calendar.

  He had thought he had a golf game that afternoon, but he’d been wrong. Somehow he’d gotten his dates mixed up. But that was all right. He would go to court and hear Collier argue the case.

  Though he still had strong reservations about what his stepson was doing, he had to admit that he was something to watch in the courtroom. Even though he wasn’t blood kin and hadn’t gotten the attorney genes from him, it didn’t matter. He was a natural at what he did.

  Mason supposed he ought to tell Collier that, but somehow the words always seemed to stick in his throat. Now, if it had been Jackson… God forgive him for feeling that way. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted his blood son to excel, to be the brilliant litigator in front of a jury and judge. But that was not to be, he reminded himself bitterly.

  Still, he was luckier than most men. He had another son, albeit a stepson, who was apparently destined for great things. Collier getting that appointment to the bench would go a long way toward making all their lives worth living again.

  Ever since Jackson’s accident, he’d fought to overcome his own demons of bitterness and hate. While he’d come far, he wasn’t there yet, even though he’d felt an easing in his gut of late.

  He hoped Collier wouldn’t do anything stupid to put a kink in things. But with his stepson, one never knew. Collier was his own man. Jackson had always been much more predictable, especially when it pertained to the job. If Mason had advised him against taking a controversial case, Jackson wouldn’t have taken it. Not so with Collier. He did what he thought was best.

  A sigh filtered through Mason. Despite that independent streak—maybe even because of it—he was proud of his younger son, and once he got that appointment, he would tell him. That pat on the back was long overdue.

  The phone rang suddenly, jarring him out of his thoughts. He reached for it.

  “That you, Williams?”

  He recognized the voice right off, and his blood pressure rose. His old adversary, Rupert Holt, rarely called him. When he did, it was always bad news. He steeled himself.

  “Hello, Rupert,” he managed to say in a civil manner, though he wanted to slam the phone down in the other man’s ear.

  He was the last person Mason wanted to talk to in light of the fact that Rupert was supporting his own man for the judgeship. And that worried Mason for more reasons than one. Even without Rupert’s backing, Wainwright was a formidable candidate. He had figured it would come down to choosing between Wainwright and Collier, and it had.

  “Have you got any free time today?”

  Mason’s hackles rose instantly. “Why?”

  “I’d like to meet you for coffee.”

  “I’m busy,” Mason said coldly.

  “I think you ought to reconsider.”

  “What the hell do you want, Holt? If it’s that important, you can tell me over the phone.”

  “But I’d rather not. What I have to say, you’ll want to hear face-to-face.” Rupert paused. “Meet me at the Townhouse Coffee Shop in an hour.” He paused again. “Oh, and trust me, you’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

  Twenty-Seven

  “What’s with you, kid? One minute you’re blowing hot, the next cold.”

  Sissy was grinning broadly when she made that statement, though Brittany read the curiosity in her eyes.

  “Maybe I’m going through the change,” Brittany quipped lightly.

  Sissy cut her a look. “Sure you are.”

  Brittany toyed with a pencil on her desk. It was after lunch, and she’d just gotten out of class and come to the agency. She hadn’t expected Sissy to be there, since she hadn’t seen much of her lately, which she was glad of. She didn’t want her friend and boss to probe. That made her uncomfortable.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a man in your life.” Another grin followed those words.

  Brittany’s head bobbed up, and her eyes widened.

  “I am right.”

  “No, you’re not,” Brittany sputtered, only to feel a slight prick of conscience. But Collier wasn’t “in her life,” not in the way Sissy meant. For the most part, he was more out than in. Right now she had no idea where he was or where things stood between them.

  When he’d left her bed two days ago, nothing had been settled, though he’d said he would call her and she believed him. However, she was anxious for obvious reasons. Collier was a tempting piece of fruit that Fate kept dangling in front of her, baiting her to take just one more bite.

  And bite she had, even though she knew she was only fooling herself into thinking that fruit would eventually belong to her.

  She was no Cinderella.

  “Care to share?”

  Sissy’s indulgent tone brought her back to the moment. “What?” she asked innocently.

  “That stuff churning inside your head.”

  Brittany flushed. “You wouldn’t be interested.”

  “Oh, yes, I would, especially if I’m right and you’ve got a man.”

  “Sissy, would you stop it?” Brittany forced a grin, but she was serious. Even if Collier hadn’t only been hovering
on the perimeters of her life, she wasn’t ready or willing to share him. She was too busy savoring him herself.

  “Oh, all right. Have it your way, but I know you pretty well, Brittany Banks, and something’s not quite right.”

  Brittany felt her flush deepen and was irritated that she couldn’t hide her feelings better. Collier had probably read her just as well.

  “You’re just not yourself lately,” Sissy pressed, her tone now sober. “If it’s not a man, then it has to be Tommy. Or school. Lord knows, you have enough going on.” Sissy paused, narrowing her eyes. “Your mood doesn’t by chance have anything to do with that ‘incident,’ does it?”

  Brittany picked up on the hesitation in Sissy’s tone. It was as though the older woman sensed she was treading on sensitive ground. Sissy still didn’t know what had happened or who was responsible, and Brittany was determined she never would.

  “It’s something I’ll never forget,” Brittany admitted honestly, “but I’ve come to terms with it.”

  “I still say whoever worked you over should definitely pay.”

  Brittany made a face. “Can we change the subject?”

  “In a heartbeat.” Sissy rubbed her chin. “When you graduate, would you consider running this place full-time?”

  Brittany blinked. “Where are you going?”

  “I just want to stay home.”

  “You’re not ill, are you?”

  “No, I just want to retire.”

  Brittany shook her head, then smiled. “Sissy, you beat all. You’ll never retire, not for a minute. You’re too full of energy to do that. Besides, you don’t work all that much as it is.”

  Sissy chuckled. “True on that last one, anyway. But I do have the worry and responsibility of the business side. If you took over, you could handle it all.”

  “Oh, Sissy, I don’t know. By the time I graduate, I have no idea what’ll be happening in my life.”

  “I know, but just keep that thought in the back of your mind, okay? I know you’ve always said you were getting out of this town as soon as you could, but I’d sure make it worth your while to stay.”

  “I appreciate the offer, believe me. And I’ll certainly keep it in the back of my mind.”

  “Good, now down to business.”

  A little while later, Sissy was gone and Brittany was alone. She had four tours to book, which was enough work to keep her busy without the phone calls and drop-ins. Yet she didn’t want to work, she wanted to daydream. About Collier.

  Their last time together had been an added delight, especially as he’d been interested in more than just having sex. He’d been interested in her.

  What that meant, exactly, she had no idea. But as long as Collier was willing to see her, she would see him. How long he would feel that way was something else she had no idea about.

  So what about pride? Where did that come in?

  Collier wasn’t about to make their affair public, especially not after he’d found out who she was, who her brother was. And what about his supposed fiancée? That issue remained unaddressed. The thought that she was still in his life, in his bed, was unthinkable.

  She had no choice but to think about those disturbing facts, any one of which could bring about the downfall of their relationship. Yet she didn’t care, which meant the pride she’d always held dear had apparently gone on hiatus.

  He’d whisked her up and taken her to a world she’d never known before, a world where the heady magic filling her heart took precedence over everything else. Which was not good, she told herself savagely.

  Still, she wasn’t ready to let him go unless he wanted to go. Somehow, she doubted that was the case. When they were together, he couldn’t seem to leave her alone any more than she wanted him to. Their hold on each other was undeniable and unyielding.

  So why hadn’t he called?

  Brittany peered at the phone, willing it to ring, but only if his voice was on the other end. It defied her and remained silent. Suppressing a sigh, she turned to the stack of folders on her desk.

  The day wasn’t over yet. She would hold on to that.

  Fool.

  When all was said and done, he was worse than that, Mason told himself as he got out of his car and strode into the coffee shop. He paused inside the door and looked around. Rupert hadn’t made it yet. Was that a sign he should leave?

  Meeting Rupert Holt was the last thing he wanted to do. When he’d hung up the phone, he’d had no intention of showing up. But a niggling in the back of his mind wouldn’t go away. While not overtly threatening, Rupert’s words were to be reckoned with.

  Rupert himself was to be reckoned with. Even on his best days, he was a snake in the grass. As far as Mason was concerned, that man had no saving graces. And the fact he seemed to have something on Mason or his family scared the hell out of him.

  If Collier hadn’t been in such a precarious position, he wouldn’t give a shit, but Rupert’s involvement with the federal appointment added a deadly poison to the mix, so Mason had listened to his gut instinct and come.

  Cursing the delay, he followed the waitress to the out-of-the-way table he’d requested. He didn’t want anyone to overhear anything said between Rupert and him. Maybe his careful planning would all be for naught. Maybe the bastard had just been blowing smoke and wouldn’t show up after all.

  That thought had barely jelled when he looked up and in walked Rupert. It had been a while since he’d seen his one-time friend, and he noticed that the man hadn’t changed all that much. Perhaps his girth was a little larger, indicating that he was hitting the bottle more than he should. Otherwise, he was his usual handsome, robust and cocky self.

  “You made the wise decision,” Rupert said without preamble, not bothering to extend his hand.

  Mason didn’t respond right off, because the waitress showed up to take their orders. Both opted for coffee, though Mason feared he might choke on his. No telling what Rupert had up his sleeve.

  The cups arrived almost immediately, which cleared the way to get straight to the point. Mason voiced his thoughts. “What do you want?”

  “Not ready to mend any fences, I see.”

  “No more than you are,” Mason replied in a tart-edged tone.

  “You’re right. I still think you screwed me over on that case.”

  Mason reached for his coat. “If dredging up the past is why you brought me down here, then you’re wasting both our time. I’m gone.”

  “Hold your horses.”

  It wasn’t so much what Rupert said as the way he said it that sent another warning shot through Mason. In spite of his loathing of this man and his desire to leave, he held his ground. He’d come this far; he might as well stay the course.

  “Let’s hear it,” Mason said coldly.

  Rupert deliberately took a slow sip of his coffee, as though enjoying every second of watching Mason stew. “You don’t keep very close tabs on your son, do you?”

  This time a chill filtered through Mason’s entire body. He was right; Collier and the judgeship were the reason for this get-together, which didn’t bode well at all.

  “He’s a grown man,” Mason responded, his tone dropping another degree, “but that’s beside the point, and we both know it.”

  “I thought he was about to marry the Frazier woman. Bill’s daughter.”

  Mason barely spoke. “He is.”

  Rupert took another sip of his coffee, then reached for a pack of artificial sweetener. Watching another calculated stalling tactic play itself out sent Mason’s blood pressure soaring. However, he didn’t say anything, knowing that was exactly what Rupert wanted.

  Rupert was playing a child’s game and enjoying it to the hilt. But Rupert was no fool. In order for him to have had the gall to set up this meeting in the first place, something had to be amiss. Under those circumstances, Mason couldn’t afford to tell him to go to hell.

  He was between the proverbial rock and a hard place, and Rupert knew it, damn him.

 
“Mmm.” Rupert rubbed his chin. “He sure isn’t acting like a man who’s about to be married.”

  “How the hell would you know?”

  Rupert chuckled, though his eyes were hard and un-smiling as he reached for another sweetener. Unwittingly Mason’s hand shot across the table and clamped down on Rupert’s wrist.

  For an instant neither moved, the tension thick and heavy.

  “Get your goddamn hand off me,” Rupert snarled.

  “Then you get to the goddamn point. You’re playing a dangerous game here, Holt.”

  Before Mason could withdraw his hand, Rupert shook free, his eyes narrowed and glaring. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

  A new frisson of uneasiness forced Mason to shift positions. Still, he didn’t show his seething emotions, realizing Rupert intended to drag this game out to the bitter end, make it last for as many innings as he could. That being the case, Mason had little choice but to cool his heels, let Rupert have his day in the sun.

  Later, when his time came up to bat, he’d knock Rupert out of the park.

  “Seems Collier’s gettin’ himself some nooky on the side.”

  The back of Mason’s head pounded. “You’re full of shit.”

  “Why don’t you ask him?”

  Clamping down on his temper and his tone, Mason said, “I’d rather you tell me all about it. It’ll be much better coming from you since you’ve obviously been spying on my son. Or maybe you had someone else do your dirty work.”

  His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Rupert, whose features turned an angry red. He wasn’t pleased that Mason was no longer bucking him, lowering the stakes of the game considerably.

  Rupert scowled. “I saw him leave a woman’s trailer in the wee hours of the morning.”

  Mason’s heart almost stopped beating, but once again he steeled himself to guard his feelings. If what Rupert said was true, then Collier had messed up big time.

  “Aren’t you curious to know who she is?”

  “Not really, but I know you’re going to tell me anyway.”

  “She’s a looker, all right. But she’s also trailer trash, goes to school, works two jobs, one as a waitress at a local diner.” He paused with a cold grin. “But then, I guess when the pussy’s hot, none of that other stuff matters.”