D’Amato reached out to take the object Roberto handed him. “What’s this?”
“Fucking cell phone set to detonate a fucking roadside bomb,” the big man said in disgust.
“How do you know that?”
Roberto grinned sheepishly, exposing very sharp eyeteeth. “I accidentally pushed the fucking button he had under his thumb when I took it away from him and exploded the fucking thing.”
D’Amato realized there were several small cuts on one side of Roberto’s face. “You okay?”
“Just a few scratches,” the big man said, reaching toward one of the larger cuts on his face. “Wasn’t expecting anything quite so fucking big.”
“J.D. all right?”
“Fucker hit the ground when I punched the button,” Roberto said, chagrined. “He’s just fine.”
“Anybody around likely to question an explosion like that?”
Roberto shrugged. “Don’t think so. We were on Shaw’s property, middle of fucking nowhere. J.D. planned it pretty good.”
“Where is that son of a bitch now?”
“I got him tied up in the fucking trunk of my car in the garage. I didn’t want to bring him inside the building. Too many fucking eyes. Where you want me to take him?”
D’Amato really wanted to talk to the bastard who’d caused him so much trouble, but his grandchildren were coming for supper in half an hour. “Take him somewhere private, that empty warehouse down by the docks will do, and convince him to tell you where he hid that junk he stole. I know he hasn’t sold it yet. And ask him about that cell phone he got from Lou Ferme. Take your time. I want him to suffer.”
“You got it, Mr. D’Amato.”
“Don’t kill him, Roberto. I want to talk to him myself after supper.”
Roberto had just left when D’Amato’s cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and recognized the number. He grunted with pleasure as he answered the call. “Hello, Wyatt.”
“What do you think you’re doing, old man?”
“I’m having my grandchildren and their mother over for dinner.”
“Don’t do it.”
D’Amato grinned, enjoying the situation, since he knew Wyatt was halfway around the world. “Who’s going to stop me?” He could feel his son’s frustration, understood how it must gall him to be outmaneuvered. It hadn’t been easy arranging the disaster in China that had required Wyatt’s presence.
“If it’s any consolation, I approve your taste in women,” D’Amato said. “Mrs. Pendleton is stunning. I’ve seen pictures of her, but they don’t do her justice.” He kissed his fingertips. “Truly una bella donna.”
“What is it you want?” Wyatt spat.
“I want what you denied me,” D’Amato said through tight jaws, nostrils flaring with the anger that rose every time he thought of the son who’d thrown everything he’d been offered back in his father’s face. “I want someone to take over my business. If you won’t do it, I have to find someone who will. And those boys are my blood and bone.”
“They don’t know that.”
“It isn’t necessary that they know who I am right now. We’re just getting to know each other.”
“They’re eight years old.”
“They’ll grow up faster than you can imagine,” D’Amato said.
“I’m on my way back.”
“Then I’ll have to do my best to make a good impression on my grandsons in the few hours I have, won’t I?”
“It won’t do any good, old man. I’ll tell them the truth about you.”
“Tell them what? That I’m a violent man? You’re the one accused of murder.”
D’Amato relished the silence on the other side of the world. “You could solve the problem by coming to work for me yourself.”
“I don’t want or need your empire.”
It was irksome to have such successful progeny. “Maybe my grandsons will.”
D’Amato hung up the phone before Wyatt could reply. He glanced at his watch and saw that he only had a few minutes before his company would arrive. He was looking forward to meeting his grandsons. It would be interesting to discover what their mother had told them about him.
He put on his most benevolent smile. He wanted his grandsons to like him. He had great plans for them.
31
Wyatt had finished his business in China in half the time he might have taken if he hadn’t been worried about leaving Kate and the twins alone. When he got the call from Kate telling him about his father’s invitation to dinner, he had just landed at the private airstrip near his compound.
“I think it might be fun if we all go to dinner with my father,” he said grimly.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“The Gulfstream just landed. I’ll take the helo to the city and meet you and the boys at the hospital.”
“Don’t forget they have a visit scheduled with Ryan.”
“No problem. I have some arrangements to make before I meet up with you.”
“What kind of arrangements?” Kate asked.
“I want to put some security in place so we don’t run into this situation again.”
“I’m so glad you’re back,” she said.
Was that only relief in her voice? Wyatt wondered. Or was there something else. He thought he heard pleasure, as well. Maybe he’d imagined it, because that was what he wanted to hear.
“I missed you,” he said. Wyatt was amazed at how connected he’d become to Kate and his sons in such a short period of time.
“You were missed, too.”
Which wasn’t the same thing as saying she missed him. Had she missed him? Better not to ask. “See you soon.” Wyatt smiled ruefully when he realized he didn’t want to hang up.
“Soon,” she repeated.
He waited until she disconnected the call to close his phone. Then his lips pressed flat in irritation at his father. Wyatt had been willing to let bygones be bygones. After all, he had no conclusive proof that D’Amato had arranged his mother’s death. But by threatening the woman he loved and his sons, his father had stepped over a line he shouldn’t have crossed. Wyatt was willing and able to make sure it never happened again.
When he reached the hospital, Wyatt called Kate to see whether the boys were done visiting Ryan.
“Come on up,” Kate said. “The visit got canceled because Ryan wasn’t feeling well, so we’re doing an experiment in my office.”
When he got to Kate’s office, which doubled as a lab, Wyatt stood in the doorway for a moment watching Lucky and Chance, who stood on either side of their mother as she placed a slide under a microscope.
Lucky happened to glance up, saw him, and shouted, “It’s Daddy! He’s here!” He came running around one side of the long counter, while Chance came running from the other.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Chance cried. “You came back!”
Wyatt leaned down, arms opened wide for the two boys, who slammed into him at almost the same time. He ruffled Lucky’s hair and gripped Chance’s shoulder as he met their grinning faces with a grin of his own.
“Is it all right if we call you Daddy?” Lucky asked uncertainly.
Wyatt thought the question might have been provoked by the tears that brimmed in his eyes. He blinked them back and said, “It’s fine with me.”
“Mom said we should ask first,” Chance said. “But I can tell it’s okay because you’re smiling.”
Wyatt’s voice was choked as he said, “I think it’s great.” He looked across the room at Kate and saw she hadn’t been as successful as he had in containing her emotions. She was smiling, but tears streamed down both cheeks.
“Let me say hello to your mother,” Wyatt said as he headed around the counter toward Kate. The boys tagged along.
There was so much Wyatt wanted to ask Kate. Why had she decided to tell the boys he was their father? What had she said to make them accept the idea so willingly? And what did it say about her feelings for him?
“Welcome back,” she
said softly.
It hadn’t been his imagination, he saw, as he looked into her tear-bright eyes. She was happy to see him. She lifted her face for his kiss and he leaned down, first kissing away the teardrops from each cheek, then touching his lips to hers.
It finally felt like he was home.
He became aware of two interested faces on either side of him. It was the first time he’d shown affection to Kate where the boys could see him. He lifted his head and looked from one twin’s face to the other to see whether they were troubled by what he’d done.
“Are you guys getting married?” Lucky asked.
“Are you going to be our Daddy forever?” Chance asked.
Wyatt was rocked onto his heels by their frank questions. “Your mother and I haven’t talked about getting married,” he said. “But I’m definitely going to be your daddy forever.”
“Does that mean we’re going to live with you from now on?” Lucky asked.
That question was more problematic. Before Wyatt could answer, Kate said, “Boys, give Shaw some breathing space. We need to put everything away. It’s time to go to supper.”
Lucky grabbed Wyatt’s hand and said, “We’re going to have dinner with our grandfather, Mr. D’Amato. Are you coming, too?”
“Yes, I am,” Wyatt said, marveling that Kate had also smoothed the path for his father to meet the twins.
Chance caught his sleeve, gestured him lower and whispered, “I don’t think Mom likes him.”
“What makes you say that?” Wyatt whispered back.
“’Cause when I asked if we should call him Grandpa, she said ‘Absolutely not!’”
Wyatt grinned. “I vote with your mom.”
“If we don’t like him, why are we going to dinner at his house?” Chance asked.
“Because he’s my father.”
Chance’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”
“Time to go,” Kate said. “Or we’re going to be late.”
D’Amato had sent a limo to pick them up at the hospital. The driver’s brows rose when Wyatt joined the other three in the car, but he didn’t object.
Wyatt had never been to his father’s home on the top floor of the mirrored building across from Shaw Tower. When the four of them stepped off the elevator, both boys looked up at him, their eyes anxious.
“Chance, take your mom’s hand. Lucky, you take mine.”
With the security of a parent’s hand in theirs, both boys seemed less agitated. Wyatt rang the doorbell. He wasn’t surprised when his father wasn’t the one who answered the door. In fact, he’d counted on it. Once he was inside, he would be in a much better position to control what happened between his father and the twins.
The big man who greeted them said, “Mr. D’Amato is waiting for you in the living room.”
“Wow. This house is even shinier than GeePa’s,” Lucky said.
“Everything’s black and red and gold,” Chance marveled.
Wyatt exchanged an amused look with Kate before they stepped into the living room. He’d seen pictures in Texas Monthly of The Castle, the thirty-thousand-square-foot home at the center of Jackson Blackthorne’s Bitter Creek Ranch. In the photos, the priceless antiques Kate had mentioned shared space with spur-scarred wooden desks and worn leather couches that had been around for more than a hundred and fifty years.
His father’s home—like his father’s life—was all brand-new, shiny modern gilt, meant to hide the fact that it had been bought with very dirty money.
He put a friendly smile on his face as they crossed the threshold and greeted his father by saying, “I presume your invitation included the boys’ father.”
“Of course,” his father said without missing a beat. The only indication of his anger was a slight narrowing of his eyes. He immediately rose from the wing chair where he’d been sitting and crossed to the twins.
The boys stood stock-still, staring up at their grandfather.
“Hello. I’m your grandfather, Dante. I see you really are identical. Which of you is which?” he asked with a smile.
Wyatt felt Lucky squeeze his hand as he said, “I’m Chance.”
“And I’m Lucky,” Chance said, adding his part to the lie.
Wyatt would have let them get away with it, but Kate said, “That isn’t very polite.”
Lucky looked up at Wyatt, his lips twisted in resignation, then turned to D’Amato and said, “I’m Lucky.”
“And I’m Chance,” Chance said.
D’Amato chuckled. “It’s a pretty good trick, boys. You had me fooled.” He focused his attention on Kate and said, “I know you had a long day at work, Mrs. Pendleton, so I thought we’d eat early. Please follow me to the dining room.”
When they got to the dining room, Wyatt saw there was a place set for him at the long mahogany table. Apparently the kitchen help had figured out that they were one more for dinner.
“Look at all the candles!” Lucky said, staring at the multi-taper silver candelabra in the center of the table.
“And red roses, Mom. You love roses,” Chance said to his mother as he pointed to the clusters of cut roses in crystal vases on either side of the candelabra.
D’Amato pointed the boys to seats on either side of him near the head of the table, with Kate and Wyatt on opposite sides of the table next to each boy.
“What are we having?” Lucky asked.
“Meat loaf and mashed potatoes,” D’Amato said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“With peas?” Chance asked.
D’Amato shot Wyatt a look—Wyatt hated peas—and said, “I can arrange for peas, if you like them.”
“I don’t!” Chance said.
D’Amato chuckled. “That’s good, because we’re having broccoli.”
“Yuck! Broccoli,” Lucky said.
Wyatt saw Kate frown at her son. But he agreed with both boys. He didn’t like peas or broccoli. And his father knew it.
“I guess you’d like the peas,” D’Amato said to Lucky, with a little less humor in his voice.
“Nope,” Lucky said. “I don’t like peas, either.”
“Maybe you can fill up on mashed potatoes,” D’Amato snapped.
Wyatt hid his smile behind his hand. His father didn’t often have to accommodate anyone, and he was obviously upset that he hadn’t managed to please either of the twins.
“You will both eat some of whatever is put on your plate,” Kate said, cutting his—and the twins’—celebration short. “And you will apologize to Mr. D’Amato for—”
“Grandpa Dante,” his father interjected.
“To Mr. D’Amato,” Kate said firmly, “for complaining about the very nice dinner he’s prepared for you.”
“Sorry, Mr. D’Amato,” Lucky said.
“Yeah, sorry,” Chance said.
“Surely it would be all right if they don’t eat food they don’t enjoy,” his father cajoled.
“No, that wouldn’t be all right,” Kate said. “They’re guests in your home. They know better than to whine about what they’re served.”
“Spoiling the children is what grandfathers are for,” D’Amato tried again.
“You won’t spoil mine,” Kate said sharply.
Wyatt had his own experience with Kate’s protectiveness where her children were concerned. Nevertheless, he was surprised to see her take on his father, with his reputation for removing obstacles that got in his way.
What he found interesting was the twins’ reaction to Kate’s animosity toward D’Amato. The boys already had some inkling that Kate didn’t approve of the older man. He watched the boys straighten in their chairs, saw their chins come up, watched their eyes narrow on D’Amato as their jaws flexed. It looked like they were about to declare war on their host.
A moment later Lucky reached for his water glass and “accidentally” knocked it over. “Oops!” he said. “Sorry, Mr. D’Amato.”
The water slid in D’Amato’s direction and he grabbed a napkin and stuck it at the edge of
the puddle. His mouth had become a rigid hyphen.
His father must have had some sort of button under the table that called the help, because a server appeared in the doorway and asked, “How may I help you, sir?”
“One of the boys spilled his water.”
“I’ll take care of it immediately.”
Before he’d gotten out of the room, Chance knocked the two forks to the left of his plate off the table. They hit the carpet under the table and bounced onto the marble floor with a clatter. “Uh-oh. Sorry, Mr. D’Amato.”
“I’ll get another set of silverware, sir,” the server said.
“Serve the salad,” D’Amato ordered.
Wyatt hadn’t known the twins long enough to see the mischievous side of them. He got a quick lesson over the next thirty minutes, as dinner was served and eaten. Or rather, served and played with.
Chance stirred the puddle of gravy on his mashed potatoes until it dripped onto the antique lace tablecloth. Lucky chewed broccoli until it was goo and spit it back onto his plate. They blew into their glasses of water, making noise and bubbles. His sons acted like absolute heathens without manners.
And politely called his father “Mr. D’Amato” every time they apologized, after their mother chastised them for their obnoxious behavior.
“If you don’t mind,” Kate said, clearly at the limit of her patience, “I think we’ll skip dessert.”
“Aw, Mom,” Lucky protested.
“Jeez, Mom,” Chance moaned.
“Both of you come with me.” She turned to D’Amato and said, “Could you direct me to a bathroom? I’d like to clean them up before we leave.”
And give them a good talking-to, unless Wyatt was very much mistaken. He figured this was as good a time as any to let his father know the measures he’d taken to make sure he would never be a threat to the boys. As soon as the three of them were gone from the room he said, “I had a talk this afternoon with the FBI.”
His father lifted a brow. “Why should that interest me?”
“I told them I had some of my father’s papers and asked them if they’d be interested in having them.”
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