Carolina Girl

by Patricia Rice

  He was starting to feel much too at home here.

  “You gonna tell us what prize you won?” Jake drawled laconically, as if he hadn’t been chewing on that piece of information for the last half hour.

  Clay noticed with interest that Aurora looked at him instead of her father while she worded her reply.

  “I won’t know anything for certain until Monday, when I see the lawyer,” she said cautiously.

  Clay had a feeling this had something to do with the unexpected “windfall” she’d mentioned. “Want me to leave? I’m almost done here. If it’s a family thing, I can go.”

  He discovered he was waiting anxiously for her reply.

  “It’s not a family thing.” Jake snorted. “It’s a woman thing. They don’t trust men.”

  Clay processed that while watching Aurora for her reaction.

  “For good reason, I might add.” Aurora rummaged in a cabinet and smacked a bowl down on the counter. “But this is kind of big and we don’t like raising hopes until we know for certain.”

  She didn’t even hesitate at including him in the discussion. Clay studiously returned to repairing the saw so he didn’t intrude.

  “You really won something?” Jake whooped with delight. “The lottery? Did you get a lottery ticket? How much? A thousand? That could make a nice down payment on a truck.”

  “The BMW insurance will buy a new truck.” Using a crutch, Cissy hobbled back to see what Rory was doing. “This will do a lot more.”

  Openmouthed, Jake waited, his expectation sweeping away any lingering gloom. Unable to resist the suppressed excitement in the sisters’ voices, Clay leaned his chair back on two legs, watching with amusement as they exchanged glances and led the old man along. From their cat-in-cream expressions, he’d think they’d won a million dollars or something.

  “Aurora was planning on paying off the mortgage until Jeff told her how much. So it’s got to be more like five or ten thousand,” Clay calculated aloud for Jake’s benefit. “Does the lottery pay that well?”

  “Not often, unless they drove over to Georgia,” Jake said in awe. “Five, Rora? Did you win five thousand?”

  Cissy grinned and began breaking eggs into a bowl. “Rora says I can have a red F150 extended cab with a moonroof and pinstriping.”

  “Hot damn!” Jake surged to his feet. “Them things’ll set you back more than ten. Are you crazy? We can pick up a junker for a few thou and use the rest to pay bills.” He stopped on his way to the patio door, hesitated, and all the joy fled his face. “But you said the bank wants their money. That and the insurance ain’t even gonna dent the balance.”

  “It will if we have a million dollars,” Rory said calmly, unwrapping chocolate squares and dropping them into a pot of butter.

  A moment’s reverent silence followed her announcement.

  Then Jake let out a war whoop, Clay brought his chair legs crashing back to the floor, and Cissy laughed aloud at their astonishment.

  “A million? You ain’t pulling my bad leg, are you?” Jake recovered his senses and looked from one daughter to the other.

  “Well, after taxes, we’ll be lucky if it’s six or seven hundred thousand,” Rory said with a shrug.

  Muttering Biblical epithets, or maybe praises, Jake collapsed in his chair again, shaking his shaggy head in disbelief. “Where the hell did you win that much? And why ain’t anyone heard about it?”

  “A bottle cap from the soft drinks you bought for us, and because I wanted a lawyer to set up a trust fund to include all of us before we claimed it.”

  Clay started doing sums in his head as Aurora’s family exclaimed and argued and laughed over ever-increasingly improbable uses for the money. Listening to them, just the basic necessities and outstanding debts would be met after taxes, he calculated. The few hundred thousand left for investment wouldn’t produce enough income for things like her niece’s education and her father’s insurance and retirement. Now he understood her tears over the phone call this morning. They were as much of frustration as grief that she couldn’t do everything her family needed.

  And then there was the small matter of the land around them going for condos and tourist traps, destroying the turtle nests and the quaint neighborhood and the home they loved. The picture became increasingly gloomy as his natural cynicism kicked in.

  “A million won’t be enough, will it?” Clay asked into a sudden silence following Jake’s appeal to build a gas station in front of his concrete-monument business.

  Aurora rewarded him with a bleak smile before she shoved whatever she’d been mixing into the oven. “If it’s real, it will be enough to cover the bills. That’s far better than we could ever have hoped or prayed for.”

  But if the bank hadn’t called the loan, they might have built Jake’s gas station and a future. Clay couldn’t believe he was even thinking about gas stations out here.

  He understood full well that something serviceable like a minimart must have been Aurora’s hidden agenda, not hot dog or peach stands. Providing the neighborhood with necessities and her family with the income they desperately needed made sense, and much as he might want to, he couldn’t argue with her logic.

  Aurora needed a means of obtaining a fast return on her money so she could build that minimart and a future. Inside his computer, he had the means to produce what she needed. If they went together and sought third-party investors, they could multiply that million into many within months. He should know. He’d done it before.

  “You need a solid investment with a fast return,” Clay heard himself say. He knew better than to get involved, to let others have any form of control over his hard work, but even as he cursed his impulsive nature, he continued to fill the gap of their silence. “You’d have to risk your winnings all in one place, but I know a pretty sure thing if we don’t foul up.”

  Clay knew he had their undivided attention, but he focused solely on Aurora. He read the hope and skepticism in her beautiful eyes, and called himself three kinds of fool for letting a night of fantastic sex turn him inside out, but with a sigh of disgust at himself, he offered, “Bubbles the Clown is mine.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “This is insane. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I know better than to trust sweet-talking men with their hands out,” Rory muttered as Cleo’s pickup roared down the highway toward Charleston with Clay behind the wheel. “And you don’t even talk sweet that well.”

  “Actions talk louder than words,” he answered predictably. “We’re good together in bed. That ought to count for something.”

  “Oh, yeah, count on it,” she said sarcastically, still mentally castigating herself. “I’ve had only one night to base that conclusion on. Bed and money don’t walk hand in hand with Bubbles the Clown.”

  He chuckled, unfazed by her sudden panic. “The game is called ‘Mysterious.’ It made a fortune as a PC-generated game ten years ago. Jared and I share royalties, so I know the book version of the script is still selling.”

  “But the game isn’t,” she pointed out. “You want me to invest in a game that no one buys.”

  Clay waved away her objection. “While I was out in L.A., I played with updating it to bring in a whole new generation of kids who use Playstations instead of the computer. I’ve been wrangling to get the rights back from the PC people but they want money.”

  “And you really think a few hundred thousand dollars will persuade them to part with the rights they robbed you of?”

  She still had a hard time believing his story. Okay, she believed an intelligent man like Clay could program computers. That wasn’t too hard a stretch. And maybe a comic artist like Jared and a computer genius might put their teenage heads together long enough to produce the “Mysterious” script. But turning it into a computer game that made millions pushed the limits of her credulity.

  Clay was a millionaire? Or had been. Past tense.

  She fully accepted the part about the software company stealing the rights out from und
er their youthful idealism. She couldn’t think of a lawyer good enough now to understand the industry contract. Ten years ago—nope, they hadn’t stood a chance. Not if their family hired a hundred New York lawyers.

  “The greedy pigs haven’t kept up with the times,” Clay argued. “The rights will revert shortly unless they’re willing to produce a new version, and you can pretty much guarantee their marketing department has moved on to race cars and robots and gore. It’s short term thinking out there. They’ll grab at our offer. We’ll just need funding to produce a product the new game players will accept. That requires a studio and technical assistance. I specialize in 3-D animation and graphics, but there are other aspects I can’t cover.”

  She still had difficulty grasping the extent of his genius. She’d known there was more beneath his pretty hair and denim vest than an immature gamer, but a software mogul?

  A software mogul who played games and set her nights on fire. Surrounded by family, they’d been forced to be circumspect all weekend. She’d spent her lonely nights in bed reliving Clay’s lovemaking. Sex, she reminded herself. There had been no love involved. Yet.

  She was terrified of that tiny “yet.” She had too soft a heart and needed to protect it before she destroyed everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish.

  “You’d better hope other investors are as sure of this as you,” she said gloomily, giving up on classifying him or anything else. “Venture capital went down the drain with the collapse of the tech market. I can call the entrepreneurial angels I know, but the market hurt them badly. You’ll have to be mighty convincing, or we’ll be out of house and home with half a video game to show for it.”

  “That won’t happen,” he said with such sureness that Rory almost believed him. “I’ll borrow the money from Jared if I have to. He’ll want to invest, too. Just call angels with teenagers, and I’ll send them the latest PC version to test drive. You’ve seen it. They’ll invest.”

  She desperately wanted to believe him, but the events of the past few days had shaken her normal optimism.

  But the program was addictive. Even she wanted to play it again.

  “This could all be a waste of time if we can’t stop the developers,” she warned him, just to keep her feet firmly on the ground.

  “One step at a time, my goddess,” he said, sending her a warm smile that turned her into a pillar of sugar.

  Resigned to this mad adventure, fearing she was in over her head, but knowing she carried her family’s hopes and dreams with her, she valiantly focused on watching road signs. “That’s the street there. It’s number 1101. If I’d known I was looking for a corporate shark, I would have found a different lawyer.”

  “All he needs to see is the six zeroes after the one, and he’ll find anyone you like.”

  A million dollars. She might have a million-dollar bottle cap in her pocket, and she was about to hand it over to a man who took wild risks and made and lost fortunes. She wasn’t a gambler. She liked security. She was out of her ever-lovin’ mind.

  And terrified to the marrow.

  o0o

  Walking down the redbrick stairs of the attorney’s old Charleston town house some hours later, Rory couldn’t tear her gaze away from the fat manila envelope in her hand. “I exchanged a million dollars for this?” she muttered as Clay steered her past jasmine-covered wrought-iron fences to the parking lot. “I could have a fat stack of green bills to take to the bank, and instead I took meaningless paper?”

  They’d won a million dollars! It was real. It didn’t seem real. She continued staring at the envelope in incredulity with panic gnawing the lining of her stomach and ecstasy shaking her knees. Money certainly hadn’t changed anything. Yet.

  In the shade of a magnolia, Clay caught her arms and pulled her around to face him. When she glanced up in surprise, he kissed her.

  Rory shut her eyes and reveled in the beauty and passion of his mouth plying hers. She tasted gratitude and excitement and a sexy undercurrent of hunger held in check. The electricity of power surged through her.

  This was more than just lust. This was mutual excitement and anticipation and joy in accomplishment. She could stand here like this forever, feeling the heat steam between their bodies, surrounded by the exotic smell of magnolias. If she could freeze a minute of time, this would be the one.

  When she thought she would have to collapse against him and surrender to her blistering need, Clay abruptly set her back, still holding her arms but at a more sedate distance. The dazed expression on his face was priceless, and Rory couldn’t resist stroking his chiseled jaw. He’d shaved for the occasion.

  “We either find a hotel and continue this, or pretend we’re respectable and walk back to the car.” In his casual California business attire of open shirt and linen trousers, he managed to look not only respectable, but wealthy and influential.

  She actually considered the first choice. She could imagine celebrating her winnings in a charming old inn overlooking the harbor, the breeze from an open window blowing lace curtains over a poster bed she and Clay would share in amazing ways.

  But the papers in her hand involved them far more than she could manage as it was. Opting for caution, she shook her head, as much to clear it as to say no. “This is not a good idea,” she said decisively, breaking away and heading for the car. “Business partners should never get involved outside the office. It’s a recipe for disaster.”

  “Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?” Clay kept up with her long strides, jerking open the truck door before she could do it.

  “Both. I’ve watched it happen. Give me some credit for experience. I worked with small businesses for years. Nasty, nasty stuff when families disagreed. Enough to explode a planet when lovers break up. Those papers in there are a powder keg. Let’s not play with fire.”

  Slamming the driver’s door and turning the key in the ignition, he backed the truck out angrily. “Are you saying we just gave up sex for money?”

  “Why, were you planning on exchanging sex for money?” Crossing her arms, Rory glared out the windshield.

  “I didn’t even know you had money!” In a fit of frustration, he hit the car horn at an SUV turning left from the right hand lane.

  “Well, I didn’t know you did either! I had sex with a mechanical god who sits on courthouse roofs and woke up with some kind of friggin’ industry guru. You think I want more surprises like that while I’m scrabbling to save my family’s future?”

  “Mechanical god?” he asked, slanting her a look askance. Then, seeing her stubborn expression, he continued the argument. “You can’t shove me into a little box, and it’s making you mad. That’s not my fault.”

  “Do you deny living in a sty on the beach with no discernible source of income?” she asked incredulously. “I thought you were a beach bum.”

  “I was working! You knew I was working. I just don’t do it in air-conditioned offices anymore.” He hesitated on a corner, switched lanes, and turned toward the harbor.

  “You turned the wrong way. The interstate is behind us.”

  “So sue me. You have my life in that damned envelope. Rip it up and throw it out the window.”

  “Your life? You’ve already had your million dollars, buster, and now you have the only million I’ll ever see, and we’re talking about your life?”

  “No, now we’re talking nonsense.” He slammed on the brake at a stoplight, glanced up and down a street of historic mansions, and finding his direction, turned down an oak-and-Spanish-moss-lined lane.

  “Where the dickens are you going?” Taken by surprise, she momentarily dropped the argument to gaze in awe at the towering, elegant homes they passed. She’d always loved Charleston, but she’d grown up in a trailer. These beautiful homes were about as real as a movie set to her.

  “I figure we’re already arguing about money, so there’s no reason to deny ourselves the pleasurable side of it.” He turned up a drive with a discreet B-and-B sign tucked among t
he azaleas.

  “You what?” Stunned into near speechlessness, Rory gaped at the vine-covered stone turrets and portico of the mansion as Clay turned off the ignition and leaped out of the truck.

  “Come on.” He opened her door, caught her elbow, and tugged her out. “It’s after three. We can check in.”

  She thought she ought to protest, but she was too busy admiring the shady stone terrace with a bubbling fountain and roses spilling across a sunny corner. Beneath the oaks, the day’s heat evaporated in cool moistness. Towering philodendron-like plants protected tender hostas and colorful caladiums. Huge live bouquets of mixed pink impatiens lit the shade like sunshine. Wrought-iron tables and chairs adorned with comfortable cushions in a subtle blend of greens and beiges were already set for some occasion.

  She’d dreamed of places like this. Someday she’d hoped to tour Europe and stay in quaint hotels, eat in neighborhood bistros, and pretend she was a sophisticated traveler. Her heart ached at this glimpse of what it might be like. Reluctant to leave paradise, but eager to see inside, she slowly followed her new partner into the lobby.

  He was opening up terrifying new worlds. She’d placed her life in the hands of an ex-millionaire, and he had completely taken control. She resented his presumption and wanted his support at the same time. He had experience she could only dream about. She had thought she would learn about the world on her own. She hated being confused.

  Clay was already returning his wallet to his pants pocket as Rory stepped into the ceiling fan-cooled interior.

  A smiling hostess emerged from behind the desk. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room. Do you have luggage? I can have Morris park your car and carry up your bags.”

  “I promised Aurora a shopping spree,” Clay lied. “Just have him pull the truck out of the way.”

  “How delightful! If you need suggestions for shopping or directions, please check with Jane. She’ll be happy to tell you anything you need to know.”

  “Like how to kill incorrigible men,” Rory muttered under her breath, but there wasn’t any anger in her words. He’d gone against her wishes, brought her here for the purpose of sex, and all she could do was stare in wonder at the surroundings.