A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by Joan Johnston

  “You’ll be my new best friend if you can find me coffee,” I said.

  Marcie laughed. “It’s Elena that’s your new best friend then. She keeps fresh coffee in the breakfast room all morning. There’s also tea because that’s what Beatrice prefers.”

  “You seem familiar with the routine.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Austin and I have been spending more time here since you…went away.”

  We stepped into a bright sunny space with terrace doors that opened out to the gardens and the pool. The room was considerably smaller than the formal parlor and dining room that I’d been in last night, but the dark oak buffet and table, though they were built on a large scale, fit easily into the room. Unable to resist, I ran my hand over the intricate carving on the buffet. “It’s beautiful.”

  “These pieces were shipped over from Spain as part of the Countess Montega’s dowry,” Marcie explained as she selected a mug from the buffet, filled it and handed it to me.

  I took my first sip and waited for that first jolt of caffeine to spread through my system. My night’s sleep—what there’d been of it—had been plagued by strange dreams and turf battles with Hannibal. The cat had actually nudged me right onto the floor at one point.

  “Much of the original furniture and all of the art was sold off at one time or another over the years,” Marcie continued, “but the larger-scale pieces were either too hard to remove or less marketable at the time. Silas McKenzie was lucky in that respect.”

  She was not only at home here, I thought, but she was also very much up to speed on the history of the house. I sipped more coffee. She was being very nice to me, but I didn’t doubt for a minute that she had an agenda. Charming or at least disarming me had to be at the top of her list.

  “What would you like for breakfast? I can highly recommend Elena’s huevos rancheros.”

  “That’s fine,” I said.

  “Good. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared through a swinging door.

  Alone for the moment, I admired the roses that filled a large cut crystal vase. Everywhere I went in this house, there seemed to be flowers. Beatrice’s doing. Then I stepped out onto the sunlit terrace. I hadn’t been out of the house since Sloan had brought me back here the day before—except for that short stroll in the garden last night. And I wasn’t going to think about that. Or about the kiss.

  Pushing the thought and the temptation away, I crossed slowly to the edge of the terrace. The early-morning sun was already warm, and the air carried the scent of mown grass, flowers and horses. A far cry from the scents I was used to as a city girl.

  From the terrace, I had a view of one of the riding rings, and I spotted Sloan immediately. He was already at work with one of the horses. Saturn.

  He turned at almost the same instant that I saw him. I could have sworn that my heart stuttered. He was at least three football fields away, and still, something not unlike a little electric shock moved through me. Then my heart stuttered again when he leaped onto the horse, urged him to take the fence and rode toward me.

  I walked down the steps of the terrace and on one of the paths to meet him. It wasn’t wise. This was not someone I should be having these feelings for. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. As he grew closer, I once again marveled at the beauty of the way man and horse moved together as one.

  Sloan was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes until he dismounted and lifted them to rest on the top of his head. It was against all logic, but I was ridiculously happy just to see him again. So I smiled.

  He put a finger under my chin tilting it up. Then he just studied me for a minute. Once again, I felt the intensity of his touch right down to my toes.

  “You didn’t sleep well last night, Red,” he said.

  “Did the bags under my eyes give me away?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “You might say that. If you want to postpone the grand tour I’m supposed to give you, we can do it tomorrow.”

  “No. I want to see the ranch.” That was the truth, but not the whole truth. The whole truth was that I felt safer now that he was here than I had since I’d gotten that phone call last night. I knew it was probably a mistake, a big one, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. I wanted very much to trust Sloan Campbell.

  Saturn whinnied and pushed his nose into my shoulder. Sloan grabbed my arm to steady me. Then Saturn nudged me again, harder.

  Laughing, I patted the horse’s neck. “What’s the matter, you beauty?”

  “Looks like he wants his share of attention,” Sloan said.

  As I continued to stroke the horse, I said on impulse, “I’d love to ride him. May I?”

  Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t let his looks fool you. He can be difficult to control.”

  “That would be the challenge, wouldn’t it? My…” I caught myself just in time. I’d been about to tell Sloan about Dandelion’s Pride, one of the horses that I’d ridden in several shows.

  “You were saying?” Sloan asked.

  “Nothing.” I didn’t meet his eyes as I came up with a lie. “For a moment there, I thought I remembered something.”

  “If you want to ride Saturn, it’ll have to be in a few days. I want to give him a chance to get used to his surroundings. Then you can give him a try.”

  “Thanks.” I was ridiculously pleased that he’d agreed to let me ride the horse.

  “Sloan.”

  We turned to see Beatrice hurrying down the terrace steps. She was back in light-colored trousers and a shirt that flowed around her as she moved. “James wants to see you. He saw you riding this way from his window and sent me down to fetch you.”

  There was an urgency in her voice that caused me to ask, “Is something wrong?” I recalled how tired he’d looked when I’d left his room the night before.

  Beatrice turned to me. “He had a restless night. He always does when he overexerts and goes off of his diet.”

  Her voice was mild and there was nothing in her tone or her eyes to indicate that she was accusing me. Still, I felt the tug of guilt.

  “He’ll be fine. He’s calling me up there to yell at me over something or other.” Sloan tied Saturn to a post on the balustrade of the terrace. At Beatrice’s pointed look, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll have one of the stable hands come up and fetch him.”

  Then in a quick movement that took me by surprise, he cupped the back of my neck with his free hand and lowered his mouth to mine. The contact was brief, hard and possessive, and it was enough to bring back all the sensations of both kisses we’d shared the day before. My insides heated and began to melt. I wasn’t even aware I’d grabbed handfuls of his shirt until he drew away.

  I had enough wits left to recognize satisfaction on his face before he said, “I’ll pick you up at ten for the tour.”

  As he strode up the steps and disappeared into the house, I found myself both envious and a bit annoyed that he could walk. I wasn’t at all certain that I could.

  Something drew my eyes to one of the balconies that graced the second-and third-story bedrooms, and I saw that Austin was standing almost directly overhead. Our gazes held for a moment and I thought I saw a look of pure hatred before he turned abruptly and disappeared into his room. I couldn’t help wondering if Sloan had known he was there when he kissed me.

  “I thought you might like me to show you around the house so that you’ll be familiar with it,” Beatrice said.

  I turned to find that she was regarding me with the most intent expression I’d yet seen on her face. “I’d like that very much. If you’re sure you have the time.”

  “I’ll make the time. I enjoy showing off the hacienda.” She glanced down at the slim gold watch on her wrist and when her gaze returned to mine, her eyes were once more unreadable. “I have something to attend to in the greenhouse, but it should only take me twenty minutes or so.”

  “I’ll meet you here.”

  Without another word, she tur
ned and walked away down the path.

  “Breakfast is about to be served,” Marcie called from the terrace doors.

  As I joined her, I wondered if she, too, had seen Sloan kiss me. Had he done it for our multiple audiences? And I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the way he’d kissed my sister. More guilt tugged at me. I was sinking deeper and deeper and I was beginning to wonder how in the world I was going to get out.

  “This has got to be difficult for you,” Marcie said as we sat down at the table. “Not remembering anything.”

  Understatement of the year was my first thought. “Yes, it is. Would you mind telling me how I came to hire you?”

  If the question surprised her, she covered beautifully. “I met you at a fund-raiser about six months ago. I was working for the woman who was cochair of the event. You mentioned to her that you were looking for an assistant, so I sent you a résumé. We met for lunch—I guess it was my interview, because you hired me over dessert.”

  “And what is it I hired you to do?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I’m supposed to keep you organized. I also handle correspondence, keep track of your calendar and generally serve as your gal Friday.”

  “Are you good at it?”

  She met my gaze steadily. “Yes, I am.”

  I really wanted to believe her. After all, my sister had hired her. And if I hadn’t known about her brother’s connection to those land developers, I might have.

  She picked up her mug, then set it down. “I know that you have a crowded schedule today, so I’ll get right to the point. I want to apologize for Austin’s behavior last night.” Marcie ran her finger around the rim of her mug. “You have no way of knowing this, but he’s not usually like that.”

  “You mean he’s not usually rude?”

  “No.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “He can be extremely charming when he wants to. But he’s different when he drinks. He doesn’t usually drink that much,” she hurried to assure me. “Well, not anymore. He used to. But he’s changed. This is difficult to explain. Your father has never given him the kind of responsibility that Austin wanted and thought he deserved. When Sloan left five years ago, Austin thought that at last James would turn to him, but instead, he started giving more responsibility to you. These last few weeks while you’ve been away, his uncle has finally given him the chance to prove his worth to McKenzie Enterprises. And he’s done well. The surprise of seeing you last night made him think it would all slip away from him again. He’s very embarrassed about his behavior.”

  I was pleased when Elena appeared with our breakfasts because I wasn’t sure how to reply to what Marcie had said. It certainly confirmed what I’d been thinking the night before. Austin wasn’t happy to have me back at the hacienda, and he could have been the one to rifle through my bag. He could have discovered my cell phone number simply by turning it off and then turning it on again, then made the threatening call later.

  And if he was truly as sorry for his behavior as Marcie was professing, why wasn’t he here in person to make his apology?

  Marcie waited until Elena had returned to the kitchen before she said as if she’d read my mind, “Austin would be here himself, but he has a bit of a hangover.”

  I avoided making a comment by sampling the eggs and I immediately envied my sister for having a cook like Elena. Back in L.A., breakfast was something I ate on the fly—a granola bar if I’d remembered to grocery shop or a muffin out of a vending machine at work. With coffee—lots of it. I took another sip from my mug, trying to decide how to frame the question. Finally, I asked, “Why is it that my father waited until I disappeared to give Austin the kind of job he wants?”

  Marcie set her fork down. “Austin has never been able to compete with you or Sloan. He doesn’t have a natural love of horses the way that you and Sloan do. In college, he decided to rebel and he picked up the reputation of being a bit of a playboy. But that’s not who he is, not really. And he’s really good at the PR end of the business. I’m hoping that you’ll give him a chance to continue to prove that. He’ll be an asset to McKenzie Enterprises.”

  “Unless he’s drinking too much to keep his mind on business,” I said.

  She leaned toward me. “He won’t. If you’ll just give him a chance to prove himself. That’s one of the reasons I asked you to come riding with us this afternoon. I hope that Austin’s behavior last night won’t make you change your mind. It will give you a chance to get to know him a little better. And we can show you the ranch.”

  The idea of being alone and away from the ranch with two people who had motive and opportunity to search my duffel and make the threatening phone call I’d received should have made me wary.

  But Marcie looked so sincere, so desperate, and I had to add in the fact that Cameron must have trusted her. But what finally decided me was that my inner Alice wanted to know more about both of them. “Of course, I’ll go with you. How about we meet at the stables at three o’clock?”

  “Thank you.” She reached out and took my hand. “Thank you so much.”

  Her relief was palpable, and I suddenly realized that Marcie Linton was either in love with Austin or she was a good enough actress to audition for a part on Secrets.

  Chapter 11

  “This is the ballroom.” Beatrice led the way into one more cavernous room. The walls were a rich ochre color, and the deep red velvet drapes were pulled back from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Five crystal chandeliers, even larger than the ones in the dining room, hung from the ceiling. There were two large fireplaces, one at either end of the room, and the honey-colored oak floors were unmarred by carpets.

  “Lovely,” I murmured. It was a word that I’d repeated often during my tour. As I’d followed Beatrice down long hallways and through a myriad of salons, parlors and bedroom suites, I couldn’t help but imagine what it must have been like growing up in a place like this. Hide-and-seek games could have gone on forever. And Cameron would have had two siblings to play with—Austin and Sloan. So far my absolute favorite space had been the library with its floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. One wall, nearly all glass, had let the garden in. To me it was paradise. I could have lingered there all day, but Beatrice allowed no loitering. She was on a schedule. She reminded me a lot of my resident advisor in college, the one Pepper and I had “borrowed” a car from. I wondered not for the first time how she and James could be brother and sister. He was so outgoing, and she was so contained.

  “Countess Montega had her wedding celebration here, and since then it’s been a tradition that all the hacienda’s brides hold their receptions here. Except for you.” The tone held just a hint of censure. “Because of the small group of people who will be there, your father wants to use the parlor and the dining room. We’ll have dancing on the terrace.”

  Feeling guilty, I said, “I’m sorry that Dad is rushing this wedding. It’s got to be a lot of work for you, but I couldn’t talk him out of it.”

  Her brows shot up. “From the time you were born, you’ve always been able to wrap your father around your little finger.”

  “Not about this. I couldn’t. I thought that I might be able to reason with him last night after everyone had left, but he looked so frail. I didn’t have the heart.”

  I thought I saw a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

  “If he would just wait, we could keep the tradition intact.” She sighed. “But I couldn’t talk him out of it, either.”

  I wondered if that’s what she’d been doing in his bedroom this morning before she came to fetch Sloan. As we walked along, I asked, “What can I do to help?”

  She turned in surprise. “Why, nothing. You’ve always allowed me to make those kinds of decisions, said you were too busy to run the house. Are you going to want to change that arrangement after your wedding?”

  “No. No, of course not.”

  Without further comment, Beatrice gestured toward the wall to our right. “The portraits of all the hacienda�
�s brides are on the walls. This first one is of the Countess Montega.”

  What I saw was a small, dark-haired woman with very sad eyes. For some reason, my heart went out to her. “She looks so unhappy.”

  “She was,” Beatrice said. “There are copies of her diaries in the library. It was an arranged marriage, and she was ill on the voyage over here. According to the story that’s been handed down, Don Roberto Montega was anxious to have an heir, and she was able to produce one within the first year, but she never recovered her health. His second wife lasted longer—five years.” She pointed to another portrait of a tall, more amply proportioned woman. “She gave him three more sons before she died of a fever.”

  There were two other Montega brides, all in black, neither of them smiling. According to Beatrice, they’d both died young, too.

  A chill moved through me as I studied the portrait of the woman Beatrice had pointed out as the last of the Montega brides. I’d read about them when I’d done my research on the hacienda, but it was different standing there and seeing how young they really were. “The mistresses of this house don’t seem to have very good luck.”

  Beatrice gestured to the next portrait. “This one did.”

  It was a picture of a laughing green-eyed woman with red hair. The emerald-green dress dipped low in the front and the skirt fell in overlapping ruffles to the floor. She was a bright relief after her more somberly dressed predecessors. “Who is this one?”

  “That is my great-great-grandmother. The story goes that Silas McKenzie rescued her out of a brothel and made her his bride.”

  I grinned, thoroughly intrigued. This was a piece of information that neither Pepper nor I had come across. “It sounds very romantic.”

  “To some it might sound that way.”

  I got the distinct impression that Beatrice wasn’t among them. I wondered how I might work it into a story line. “I understand that Silas was a bit of a rogue himself.”