“Did you have some crazy idea that that would please me? Or that I give a damn what Aaron Hawk would think of me?”
“He was your father—”
“He was an arrogant bastard who deserved to die a hell of a lot sooner than he did!”
“He may have been—”
“I hope he died hard. Real hard. I hope he had a damned lot of pain, and time to think about what he’d done to people, innocent people, and people who had done nothing to him except—”
Love him.
For a moment, as they resounded in his head, he thought the words had slipped out. The instant he realized they hadn’t, he turned away from her to assure they wouldn’t. He wasn’t about to tell that particular truth to anyone, especially this woman. It hurt enough to admit to himself that his mother had never stopped loving the man who had abandoned her the moment he’d found out she was pregnant with him.
“He did.” Kendall’s voice came softly, so softly it was as if she’d heard the words he’d barely managed to bite back. “He died hard. Very hard. In a lot of pain. And he had a lot of time to think about his life and the wrongs he’d done. And to regret them.”
“Regret?” He whirled back on her. “He plays his little games with people’s lives for decades, but when he finds out he’s dying he gets scared and says he regrets it all, and that makes it all right?”
“Of course not. Please, can we go inside somewhere? It’s cold.”
It was time to put an end to this, right now. “Sorry, I’ve already checked out. But if you’re that determined to . . . talk to me, I could get another room.” He lifted a hand and with his index finger traced the line of her lower lip none too gently. She looked startled, but not afraid. “Just how badly do you want to talk to me, lady?”
Her chin came up, and she gave him a level look. He should have realized that anyone who could deal with Aaron Hawk wouldn’t be easily intimidated. That admiration sparked through him again, but in his anger he ignored it.
“You’re not going to drive me away with sexual threats, Mr. West. Nor can you embarrass or humiliate me into leaving. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.”
“A job?”
“Yes. To carry out Aaron’s last wishes. And if I have to dog you all the way to Seattle to do it, I will.”
Seattle? He drew back then, eyes narrowing. “Been checking me out, Ms. Chase?”
She let out a sigh. “What did you expect? I told you, Aaron spent months of precious time looking for you. Then you suddenly show up, and you think I could let you just disappear again, without a clue about where to find you?”
“I’m not hard to find. I haven’t been hiding.” Not for a long time, anyway, he amended silently.
Kendall’s mouth twisted. “Do you have any idea how many Jason Wests there are in this country? For that matter, how many of them there are in the greater Seattle area alone? Aaron died waiting, praying that the next one would be you.”
“If you expect me to feel sorry for him, you’re once more barking up the wrong tree, Ms. Chase.”
“Aaron would scorn your pity.”
He shrugged. “I’m surprised. Having people feel sorry for you is a powerful tool.”
“Is that how you see pity? As a tool to be used?”
“That’s how I see everything, Ms. Chase.”
“Then you truly are your father’s son.”
His stomach knotted this time at the unwanted comparison. It was time for this farce to end.
“Your personal car?” he asked shortly, gesturing toward the dark blue sedan.
“Yes,” she answered, looking puzzled.
“My insurance company will be in touch,” he said. Then he moved around her, resenting even as he did it the fact that he was being very careful not to touch her as he reached for the door of the rental coupe.
“Go ahead,” she said before he could get in, “but smashing up my car won’t stop me, either.”
She was quick on the uptake; he had to give her that. He turned around, leaned back against the roof of the car, and wearily asked, “What will, Ms. Chase? What will it take to get you to leave me alone?”
“Simple, Mr. West.” She said it with a slight emphasis, as if to point out she knew very well his constant formal use of her name was one of those tools they’d spoken of, to keep her at arm’s length. “It will take you listening to what I have to say.”
“And why should I?”
“Many reasons. Curiosity. Anger. The possibility that there’s really something in it for you. Maybe a search for more of those tools to be used. Perhaps even to feed your hatred of Aaron, if that’s what you need.”
He didn’t like her inference, that he needed . . . anything, but couldn’t completely deny it, either. Nor, he thought a little uneasily, could he deny that she had just enumerated with uncanny accuracy most of the reasons he would even consider listening to whatever laughable story she had to tell.
And then she smiled, that quick, unexpected curving of her lips that made him automatically want to smile back. He barely stopped himself yet again.
“But probably most of all,” she said, the smile almost becoming a grin, “because I’ll haunt you until you do listen. I promise you that.”
For a split second before he quashed it, he had the thought that that might not be a punishment too harsh to bear. You are tired, he muttered inwardly. But even tired, there was one thing he was sure of, with an instinct he’d learned the hard way; she meant what she said. She wouldn’t give up until he listened to whatever far-fetched story she had to tell. What her real purpose was, he couldn’t guess. Yet. But he knew it wasn’t anything as simple as carrying out some last wish of Aaron Hawk’s. She had some private agenda; everyone did. She just hid hers better than most people.
He stared at her. She met his gaze unflinchingly. She was facing him down, in a way no one had done for years. He, who was used to intimidating people who had considerably more power and stature than Kendall Chase with a glance, seemed incapable of making this one petite woman back off.
As if she’d once more read his thoughts with uncanny accuracy, she smiled again. “I can be very, very persistent. And inventive, if need be.”
Images of a different kind of inventiveness, a kind that would use that lovely body to great advantage, leapt into his mind. But he’d learned that sexual innuendo failed to daunt her, so he didn’t bother trying it again. But he wasn’t sure what to do next.
Jason realized with no small amount of shock that she had him completely off balance. Reluctant admiration made his mouth twist wryly, even as he made an effort to regain the control he wasn’t quite sure how he’d lost.
“All right,” he said suddenly. “My plane leaves in an hour. You’ve got twenty minutes.”
She hesitated, then said, “I suppose that’s enough to make a start.”
It better be enough to finish this, he thought. He couldn’t wait to get out of this town; even the air seemed oppressive to him, as if Aaron Hawk had owned it as well, and resented his son breathing it. And he doubted very much if anything Kendall Chase had to say would change that feeling.
ALICE HAWK PACED the elegant, pale mauve and blue sitting room with a speed and urgency that belied her seventy-four years. And without even a glance spared for the perfect loveliness of the room around her. She had ordered it up out of a designer’s sketch book, complete, to make the proper impression on those she wished to impress, and it had no more to do with her personally than did the cold, conspicuous diamonds she wore for the same reason.
She cared little for her surroundings, and scorned the kind of women who spent their time on such frivolous pastimes, although she admitted a certain grudging respect for the decorator who had gotten away with charging her such an exorbitant fee. She herself had no time for such
useless things; she was a power to be reckoned with in this community, not some brainless socialite who spent her time on club luncheons and garden parties.
Nor was she the perfect corporate wife anymore. She was through with that forever. She’d had, by necessity of Aaron’s position, to do her share of the social niceties, but she’d despised every minute of it, every minute of being talked down to as Aaron’s wife, as if she had no existence outside of her connection to him. As if she wasn’t really the controlling force behind Hawk Industries.
And she’d heard the whispers. Enough of them so that she had once resorted to setting up a concealed nanny-cam near the bar, then directed several of the corporate wives there for drinks before and after dinner. She’d learned then that Aaron’s affair with Elizabeth West was common knowledge among them all, and that the wives perversely sympathized with Aaron, calling her a cold, cold fish. Worse than that, they commiserated with Aaron’s mistress, pointing out how much nicer she was than Aaron’s arrogant wife.
And at the same time they laughed at her. There, in her own house, while accepting her hospitality, guests at her own party, they laughed at her. Joked about her trying to keep a man like Aaron on a short leash. Once even the old rumor that her father had bought Aaron for her surfaced, although she’d thought it long quashed. The women had laughed again, this time at the idea Aaron could be bought. Little did they know, she’d thought as she viewed the recordings, her fury growing every second that the laughter went on.
But that had been nothing compared to the fury of learning Aaron had fathered a son with Elizabeth West.
“Damn you,” she whispered harshly, not clear in her mind whether the curse was aimed at Aaron or his son. And not certain there was any difference to her any longer.
She tried to fight off the sense of foreboding that had enveloped her since the moment she’d heard that laugh at the cemetery, and had looked up to see the living image of Aaron as she’d first seen him. It had come on her after the initial shock had faded, this sensation of unease, of being threatened, and she didn’t like it.
And as much as she hated to admit it, it was her own fault. Her fault, for being too soft, all these years. The moment she’d found out about the existence of Aaron’s son, she’d wanted him dead. But foolishly, she’d let the child live, settling for merely ordering him and his mother out of her—and Aaron’s—life. And then he’d dropped so completely out of sight after that slut died that she hadn’t been able to find him. Only the fact that the boy never appeared to lay claim to his family connection had kept her from pouring great effort into the search; simply interfering with Aaron’s hunt for his son had been a drain on her time, money, and energy for far too long.
When her phone rang, she went for it with the haste of someone badly needing a distraction.
“Mrs. Hawk? Sorry to call so late—”
“Never mind,” she said, cutting Whitewood off sharply. “What is it?”
“You said to keep you informed, and I thought you’d want to know this right away—”
“What?” she snapped, irritated by his self-aggrandizing tone.
“The man I hired found him. He’s staying at the Sunridge Motel.”
“I could have found that out myself,” she said coldly. “There are only three motels in town. I hope that’s not all you have.”
“No, of course not.” He sounded so smug she wished he were present so she could slap the expression off his face. “She’s with him.”
She didn’t have to ask who he meant. She bit back an oath, and with a great effort simply waited.
“They’re having quite a talk,” Whitewood said. “My man’s watching them.”
“Damn her.” It escaped this time despite her efforts to stop it.
“She must be telling him about the will. Maybe even the money in her account. Now what?”
Of course she was telling him, Alice thought. It was exactly what she would expect of Kendall Chase. Aaron had been many things, but a fool in choosing the people who worked for him wasn’t one of them.
“You want my man to keep watching?” Whitewood asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“What if they split up? Who do you want him to follow?”
“Stay with him,” Alice said. “The girl is predictable enough. She’ll stay in town.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“I want to know every move West makes,” she ordered the lawyer. “And continue with our other plans. I want to be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
She hung up abruptly; she had no time for the niceties now. She had to think. She knew, had expected all along that Kendall would try and do as Aaron had wanted. It was Aaron’s bastard who was the wild card. She’d hoped, after all these years, that he’d accepted his fate, that he’d seen the wisdom in not crossing her. It was why she’d left him alone, even though it went against her every instinct. But his showing up here, now, ruined that hope, proved that she should have followed her instincts and rid herself of the problem long ago.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. It had been a while since she’d had to deal with a situation like this. She’d had things under control for a very long time.
And she wasn’t going to let that change now. She would do what she had to do. She had before, and she would now. Even if she had to resort to extreme measures again.
Extreme measures.
She sank down on the chair beside the phone, her mind racing.
Extreme measures.
She had thought that part of her life long over. But the arrival of Aaron’s bastard changed everything. She had to protect what was hers, and if anyone thought she wouldn’t—or worse, thought her too old to do it—she would prove them wrong.
And if that meant calling the man who had helped her before, if it meant using the beast she’d once created, then she would do it. She would do whatever it took.
She went to her desk and began to look for the phone number she’d thought never to call again.
Chapter Six
NEITHER JASON nor Kendall spoke until they were inside the comfortably warm coffee shop. She gratefully ordered a hot chocolate, anticipating the pleasure of curling her cold fingers around the warm jug. Jason ordered black coffee, asking the waitress for the strongest she had. The tall, statuesque woman, who had been looking decidedly bored when they’d come in, looked him up and down, then glanced at Kendall, as if trying to assess their relationship.
The tension between them must be obvious, Kendall thought, and had her guess confirmed when the woman set her mug of chocolate down without comment, then slowly poured Jason’s coffee and asked, in a suggestive voice, if there was anything else he wanted, anything at all.
Jason gave the woman a sideways look and a crooked smile. “I’ll let you know,” he said.
The woman smiled invitingly before turning to go, but Kendall barely noticed. She was too busy watching Jason, aware that everything depended on her being able to judge him. And right now, she was evaluating Jason’s reaction to the waitress’s obvious come-on. It had been easy, and smooth, suggesting long practice. She wasn’t surprised at that; a man with Jason West’s dark good looks must deal with that kind of thing regularly.
But she’d also sensed something else in that response, more in the sideways look than the casual words, an assessment of sorts, as if he was judging whether even this woman in a lonely motel coffee shop could somehow be useful to him. It was automatic, she realized, that assessment of everything and everyone he met, of what value they might have to him. What kind of possible tool they might be.
That’s how I see everything, Ms. Chase.
It hadn’t been said for effect, or to discourage her; it had been, quite simply, the truth. And for the first time she began to wonder if that hardness in his eyes was matched by a hardness
in his soul that was beyond redemption. Had Aaron truly left it too long—was there nothing left in his son to be reached?
Kendall took a deep breath. She’d been over this again and again, trying to decide where to start. The amount of money Aaron had left to his estranged son was, she had thought, enough to get anyone’s undivided attention. But now she wasn’t so sure. It seemed to her that Jason hated his father enough to refuse to take anything that had anything to do with the Hawks. And she wouldn’t be surprised in the least that when she told him what Aaron had left him, he would laugh in her face for thinking he would ever touch Hawk money, even this much. But that was only an impression; how could she gamble Aaron’s last wishes on it?
She took a careful swallow of her very hot chocolate, still pondering. Aaron had always told her to trust her perceptions, and now, when she was trying so hard to carry out his wishes, didn’t seem to be the time to abandon the tactic that had worked so well all these years. Even if it made her job more difficult, she thought, as she looked at the man across the table from her.
Already Jason West’s powerful personality was making her see the differences as well as the similarities between him and his father. The old man had been stubborn, aggressive, sometimes belligerent. He had also been dynamic, brilliant, and shrewd, living by his own inflexible code that had been, if nothing else, consistent. And to her, perhaps to her alone, he had been kind. And except for the kindness, she was willing to bet Jason was the same kind of man.
Jason would never believe that Aaron had been as sincere in his desire to find his son as he had ever been about anything in his life. He was too bitter, too angry, too set in his view of his father, and she couldn’t blame him for that. So if she couldn’t begin with money, or with Aaron’s feelings about his son, what was left?
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