by Susan Fox
“C-can we go someplace to talk?” The tremor in her voice was impossible to thwart.
“No reason until you answer the question. Sorry for what?”
She suddenly couldn’t bear the diamond glitter in his eyes and looked away. She’d craved this opportunity for weeks while she worked up her courage, but Gabe was so tough and skeptical of her that she wished she could simply vanish from his sight and slink away somewhere.
But if she let him chase her off now, she’d regret that, too, and she might never get another chance.
“I came here to…apologize.” The dryness in her mouth and the surge of roiling emotions complicated it all. “To even grovel if that’s…what it takes.”
Now she made the monumental effort to look up at him again, to say this to his face as she’d meant to. “I’ve been awful to you. You were never what I thought you were, and I came here to tell you that. And to say that I’m profoundly sorry.”
The diamond glitter in his eyes was suddenly banished by dark fire. “So now you want a divorce.”
His conclusion sent a new shock through her and she reflexively gave a quick, “No,” then caught herself and just as quickly added, “Yes. But you can’t want to stay married to me.”
The fire in his eyes didn’t lower by so much as a spark, so she rushed out with, “Isn’t that what you want to do?”
He let her wait a few more breathless seconds before he leaned toward her. She had to fight not to take a step back. “You have no idea what I want to do.”
To beat her, strangle her? The way he’d said the word want seemed menacing enough to suggest those things.
“Could we talk?”
Nothing eased in his face or in his eyes, but his voice lowered to a growl. “You’ve always taken the say-so about that.”
She tried a small, conciliatory smile, but it felt more like a sick curve of lips. She was just so desperate to somehow win a chance to tell him everything she’d come here to say. “I’m sorry about that, too.” Her heart was beating impossibly fast. “It’s your turn now.”
Not getting any clue that she’d said enough to satisfy him, she panicked and babbled out, “It’s completely your turn now, Gabe, completely.”
She couldn’t bear the awful suspense and her breathless, “Could we?” came out without her being conscious of it until she heard herself say the words. She’d sounded like a pitiful child begging for something, and she cringed inwardly. His growl went lower.
“How bad do you want to talk to me?”
It was as if he’d somehow hypnotized her and she’d answer any question without reserve.
“Badly.”
Gabe slowly straightened, his glittery, angry gaze never leaving hers. The big horse shifted beneath him as if responding to some sort of tension in his rider. Just when she thought he’d decided to ride away and leave her hanging, he spoke.
“Then move your things into my house. If you’re still there by supper, I’ll eat with you. I’ll think about talk—if you’ve learned enough manners to get through a meal.”
And then he rode away. She turned to watch him go, a little stunned to see the horses that had been herded to the tree-shaded pens were now milling inside. The thirty or so animals had trotted past only a few feet away from where she was standing, and it amazed her that she’d neither seen nor heard them or the wranglers who’d brought them in and closed the gate.
Move your things into my house…I’ll think about talking if you’ve learned enough manners…
Tough, uncompromising, but it was as much a warning as it was the chance she’d craved. Gabe Patton would tolerate no misstep or wrong word, and certainly no hint of spite from her ever again. And she didn’t know him well enough to know what might set him off, particularly when she was sure that anything, no matter how miniscule or unintended on her part, might well get her thrown out before she even realized what she’d done to rile him.
Mindful that he’d now dismounted and handed his horse off to one of the wranglers and might be about to glance her way, she turned and hurried back to the house, determined to demonstrate that she would immediately comply with his dictates, however more demanding they might become.
And however impossible she feared he could make them.
CHAPTER TWO
GABE PATTON had realized the truth the moment he’d taken the cell call from his housekeeper and heard Lainey’s name: His wife was here to divorce him.
Lainey Talbot Patton was the only acquisition he’d not fought to get his hands on or gone to war to keep. Partly because as long as they were married, she was his whether she thought so or not. Partly because he knew she’d been devastated by her father’s death and manipulated to within an inch of her life by her harridan mother.
For those first days and weeks after the quick ceremony at the courthouse, Gabe had been amused by her stubbornness and her absolute refusal to allow him any contact with her. But when the days and weeks had turned into months, he’d stopped being amused.
He’d like to credit her mother’s death with Lainey’s sudden appearance here and her claim to have found out the truth. Her repentant pose had looked startlingly authentic, but they both knew the terms of her father’s will, and the fact that she’d waited six months to show up made her apology ring hollow.
According to the terms of the will, Lainey had to stay married to him for five years before she was eligible to receive full control of her inheritance. The five years were almost up, control of Talbot Ranch would revert to her in a few weeks, but her marriage to him—the marriage she’d never given a moment’s chance to—would be the only thing standing in her way.
Whatever he’d once hoped they might have together, there was no way in hell he’d just hand over what had been a bankrupt operation to an ungrateful female who’d virtually wiped her feet on him while he’d been risking everything he’d earned to get Talbot Ranch back into the black. Particularly now that she could legally claim control over every inch and dollar of the sweat and risk he’d invested to save it, then maybe make some token thanks before she demanded a divorce.
Though he’d agreed to John’s request and would keep their bargain to the letter, he didn’t plan to come out of the deal empty-handed.
He glanced toward the main house, but Lainey was no longer in sight. Unless her mother had succeeded in making a hothouse plant of her, he was certain she wouldn’t be able to sit around indoors for the rest of the afternoon. He figured she’d go over to Talbot and have a look around, so he didn’t let the idea bother him.
Whatever Lainey was up to now, her intention to be free of him wouldn’t be as simple as a token apology and a last trip to the courthouse.
Gabe’s housekeeper, who introduced herself as Elisa, put Lainey’s two suitcases, overnight bag and briefcase in the entry closet just off the front foyer. Uneasy and too restless and keyed up to wait around in the living room for over three hours until supper, Lainey left a hasty note on a paper scrap for Gabe on the coffee table, then left the house.
Her father had been buried in the small family cemetery on Talbot Ranch, so she went there. She drove past the big Victorian house and ranch buildings of the Talbot headquarters, and found the rutted road that stretched through three massive pastures to the gravesite.
The shady acre was enclosed by a white rail fence, and she parked her car outside the painted rails beneath an overhanging tree branch. She went to the trunk for the silk flower arrangement she’d bought in San Antonio, then entered the gate and walked to the headstone that marked John Talbot’s grave.
Poignant memories overwhelmed her as she stared at the carved stone and remembered the horror of hearing that her father had been killed. Her desperate race to get back to Texas had been blurred by the shock and numbing grief she’d been certain she couldn’t survive, then the terrible agony of his funeral.
How on earth could she have thought her father would do anything to hurt or slight her? For weeks now she’d looked through his pic
tures again and again, apologizing over and over for ever doubting his love and care for her.
Childish or not, foolish or not, she’d somehow hoped her father had heard her all those times. Perhaps the knowledge of what she’d inflicted on Gabe had prevented her from feeling relief; perhaps self-loathing and guilt would keep her in this torment the rest of her days, whatever Gabe had to say to her tonight.
Quietly she knelt down and placed the silk pansies and forget-me-nots in the slim receptacle at the base of the stone.
“I’m finally home, Daddy.”
All the other words crowded up from the love and heartache and brokenness she felt, and poured out in a fresh torrent of sorrow and regret. By the time the torrent had eased away, she had moved to the wrought-iron bench nearby to sit sideways on the end of it to pillow her cheek on the back with her wrists.
The sound of the breeze gently rustling the tree leaves overhead made her aware of its warmth as it brushed lightly over her clothes and teased through her hair. The first true sense of peace she’d felt in years began to trickle through her then, and she remembered the words, Not a soul on this earth I love more than my baby girl.
Her father had said that to her frequently, sometimes in his booming voice with a broad smile on his face, sometimes in a moment of gruff sentimentality.
The sweetness of the memory made her whisper back what she always had, “And there’s not a soul on this earth your baby girl loves more than her daddy.”
Lainey sat there for some time more in the calm that had eluded her for weeks. She’d needed this too long and craved it too desperately to rush away from it now. Drowsy from the heat, she must have dozed until she was roused by what sounded like a faint whisper.
Show him what you’re made of…
Half awake, her heart still clinging to the words she must have dreamed, Lainey lifted her head to look past the edge of the trees and note the angle of the sun. Alarm banished her calm and scattered the dreamed whisper. She got quickly to her feet and ran to her car.
Leery of driving too fast on the rutted road, she felt the ominous weight of each frantic second.
Lainey pulled up in front of the Patton main house, switched off the engine, then reached for her handbag and raced to the red doors. She stabbed at the button for the doorbell, then fidgeted as she waited. Elisa opened the door.
“I’m sorry to be late, señora. May I come—”
But the woman was already stepping back to graciously wave her inside.
“Do I have time to freshen up?”
“The second door on the hall.”
Lainey offered a smile as her heart fell further. The message she read from the way Elisa had answered was that she indeed had no time left, but the woman might have some sympathy for her need to make herself more presentable.
Lainey hurried toward the small bathroom to do something with her hair. She’d used the rearview mirror in her car to help guide her efforts to remove her smudged mascara, then had dug around for hairpins and given her hair a quick brushing, but she still looked wilted and mussed.
Another pass with her brush and a few repairs with the small amount of makeup in her handbag were made more difficult by her shaking hands. It was some consolation that at least Gabe had allowed her into his house.
She had no doubt that Elisa was giving him a report on her disheveled appearance, and she cringed. The last thing she wanted was for Gabe to think she was playing on his sympathy so he’d be nicer to her and perhaps consider forgiving her.
When she’d finished, Lainey found her way to the dining room. She’d never seen the private areas of Gabe’s house, but she had been in the main rooms a handful of times years ago. When she reached the formal room, she halted just inside the double doors.
Gabe sat at the head of the long gleaming table, his overlong dark hair still damp from his shower. The jeans and blue-striped shirt he had on were fresh but fairly common. He didn’t fuss over his clothes like men who were born to wealth or who worked in offices, and yet there was a quality about him that made him look just as neatly pressed and turned out in work clothes as he did in a suit and tie.
Gabriel Patton was a man who’d grown a substantial income from practically nothing through hard work, careful savvy, and the sheer power of his iron will. He was a man without a college education who’d taken big risks, refused to fail, and whose handshake on a deal made its outcome as certain as the sunrise.
Which was why her wrong beliefs about him had been such a profound insult to his integrity. This was a man who’d worked relentlessly to overcome his hardscrabble upbringing and achieve success. To even hint that he’d married her out of greed or to get anything by underhanded means was not only untrue but morally wrong.
The dark eyes that were too perceptive and too flat and hard to make her feel even a whisper of comfort, took note of her sudden entrance. The chill in his gaze kept her where she was and certainly didn’t show a hint of welcome. She endured it when his gaze flashed down the front of her to her feet, but it came back up so suddenly that she thought she’d imagined the swift look.
“I apologize,” she said quickly. “Time got away from me.”
Gabe didn’t comment on that, but instead called his housekeeper in. When Elisa appeared, he simply glanced her way and she disappeared back into the kitchen. Then his gaze shifted back to Lainey.
“Might as well sit.”
Lainey walked to the place setting to the right of his. Gabe rose briefly to seat her, but she knew right away that he did it only because she was a female guest and he was her host. The fact that he didn’t neglect the courtesy gave her a slim bit of hope.
Elisa brought a tray of food into the silent room and efficiently set everything out before she retreated to the kitchen. Lainey followed Gabe’s lead and reached for her napkin.
He didn’t speak to her and she didn’t feel comfortable trying to speak to him. There was nothing she could conclude about his mood except that it must be dark. He certainly wasn’t brimming with eagerness to make conversation with her, so she tried to eat the steak and assortment of vegetables and crusty bread set before her. When the silence bore down too heavily, she found something neutral to say.
“Elisa is an excellent cook.”
As if her remark had reminded him that she was sitting at the same table he was, Gabe looked her way. She couldn’t bear the searching impact of his gaze, so she looked down at her plate of food and gamely caught a piece of steak with her fork tine.
“You eat like she’s poisoned it.”
A nervous breath burst out of her before she could stop it. “No, I’m…sorry. My appetite isn’t good, but that’s not because the food isn’t…excellent.” She couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing toward him to see his reaction.
As she’d half feared, he was watching her steadily and one of his brows showed a faint curl of both skepticism and curiosity.
“What’d you do?” he asked gruffly. “Get religion?”
The remark felt brutal but she tried not to be discouraged. “I found out what I should have known from the be—”
“Save it.”
Subject closed. What little appetite she might have had left flitted away, and she gripped the napkin in her lap with one hand while she tried to force-feed herself the piece of steak with the other. It immediately became difficult to chew, then once she’d got the job done, it was difficult to swallow. She set her fork down and reached for her water glass to take a helpful sip.
And immediately choked on the water. Self-consciousness made it worse, and she covered her mouth with the napkin while the spasms died down. To her relief, Gabe didn’t remark on it and never once did she feel the sensation of being stared at.
There were advantages to being ignored and this was one of them. But under the circumstances, Gabe’s continued silence, his skepticism and his obvious lack of interest in conversation, seemed to emphasize how little interest he had in any potential apology from her. It was
as if he was only biding his time with her, but why? Why put up with her at all if he wasn’t interested in the reason she was here or what she had to say?
Lainey made another attempt at her meal, but finally gave up and sat silently, her hands clenched together out of sight in her lap. The mantel clock at the side of the room above the river stone fireplace ticked off the endless seconds. Hundreds of seconds, thousands of them, billions.
And then Elisa came in with a small tray of dessert. The pedestal dessert glasses were filled with chocolate mousse and topped with a crinkly dollop of whipped cream. Chilled, the outside of the stout glasses were already beginning to fog over as Elisa removed Lainey’s picked over plate and replaced it with the dessert.
Normally the treat was Lainey’s favorite, but her appetite reacted no better to the sight of it than it had to the fine meal. Nevertheless, she couldn’t refuse it so she picked up her spoon to dig in. At least the mousse would slide down more easily than the steak and vegetables had.
She’d managed two bites before the rich chocolate flavor touched off her appetite. Focused on the rich dessert, she was able to keep from glancing toward Gabe. But then she heard a soft sound of movement and glanced his way in time to see him lift his untouched chocolate and set it next to the one she’d nearly finished.
“Fill in those empty places,” he said, his voice low and gravelly with a kind of masculine gentleness that caught her off guard and sent a tidal wave of emotion through her.
“But don’t you—”
“Your favorite, not mine.”
His dark gaze was probing again, but with less force than before. Now it dawned on her that he might have made a special request to Elisa to prepare the dessert. If so, why had he been so harsh with her during the meal? Was this sudden generosity some sort of apology?
Leery of rejecting what might at least be a small offering of thoughtfulness, she made herself murmur a soft thanks. She’d eat the second dessert if it killed her. Though it went down slower than the first one, she managed the task but when it was gone, she set her spoon down and waited tensely for what would happen next.