by Lucy Monroe
He didn't want her staying up late. Pregnant women needed their rest. He'd have to talk to her about the possibility of her working part time. Knowing Isabel, she would refuse. That didn't mean he wouldn't suggest it. Arguing about it would be a welcome break from discussing Hypertron's future.
Two hours later, he had the numbers crunched and a call into St. Clair. The White Knight deal looked good on paper. Particularly if rumblings were accurate about Hypertron's newest technology coming to market close to target date. He made a call to his contact at Hypertron and smiled as he hung up the phone. The situation looked good, very good, for a White Knight investor. Now, if Alex could convince the corporate raider, his life with Isabel could go back to normal.
His musings were abruptly cut short when the phone rang and Veronica informed him—in a strained voice that he'd come to associate more and more with her—that St. Clair was on the line, returning his call.
* * *
Isabel had taken off early after her afternoon appointment cancelled and was home when Alex came storming up from the office at three o'clock that afternoon. Lost in thought about her marriage, Alex's plans for her dad's company, and the realities of impending motherhood including an inexplicable tiredness in the afternoons, she happened to be looking out the living room window when he slammed out of the renovated barn and started toward the house.
The expression on his face was chilling, and she had a sudden urge to run upstairs and lock herself in their bedroom. Telling herself not to be foolish, she forced her body to remain seated on the sofa. He couldn't be this angry over the article that she'd left on his desk that morning on the psychological effects of unemployment on the displaced employee.
Maybe that particular expression on his face had nothing to do with her at all.
His gaze zeroed in on the house and she felt it lock on her through the window. Sweat broke out on her forehead and her heart began to pound as Alex disappeared around the side of the house. Seconds later, she heard the kitchen door open and shut.
Alex's measured tread announced his movement down the hall toward the room in which she sat. She almost wished he were stomping. Alex in a silent fury was far more intimidating than Alex openly expressing anger.
Soon he stood framed in the entrance to the living room, his eyes dark pools of accusation, his tall body vibrating with suppressed rage. He didn't say anything.
Isabel's insides tightened and she found herself launching into an explanation. "I know you don't approve of my tactics, Alex, but you must realize by now that I'll do anything to protect the employees at Hypertron."
The silent fury in Alex seemed to swell, and maybe it was a trick of the lighting, but did her husband look at least two inches taller?
"Including subverting my company, betraying my trust, and destroying my reputation?" he asked with cold, biting anger.
She sat up straight, pulling her feet from their reclining position on the sofa cushions. He was really overreacting to one small article, even if it had been rather graphic when describing the increase in domestic violence after a large layoff. "Don't be ridiculous, Alex. I'm not trying to hurt you or your company. The opposite is true, in fact. I'm trying to save you from yourself."
Alex's hands fisted at his sides and his knuckles grew white. "You think that telling your dad my plans, undermining my credibility with one of my clients, and betraying my trust in you is somehow saving me from myself?"
She'd been wrong. Alex's loud, soaring rage was definitely worse than his silent fury. In fact, he was downright terrifying. Enough so that it took several seconds for his words to register past her body's urge for flight. Telling her dad his plans?
"What are you talking about? I haven't told my dad anything."
Not that she hadn't been tempted, but Alex trusted her. At least she thought he had. She couldn't even convince herself that telling her dad about Mr. St. Clair's plans was a last resort. She simply could not betray Alex.
"If you didn't tell him, then why did I just get through with a damned uncomfortable conversation with St. Clair? I called to try to talk him into a White Knight investment scenario. I thought it would make you happy." Alex gave a derisory snort.
"He called me back to tell me that he'd been approached by Harrison to make a deal." Alex crossed the floor with predatory swiftness until he stood towering over her. "It appears your dad's company is going to bring their technology to market on time after all. The situation looks so good for the stock St. Clair has already purchased that he was in a fine mood. He just wanted to warn me about a leak within my organization. I didn't bother to tell him that my own wife was the culprit."
Shock and pain warred for supremacy in Isabel's emotions as she digested Alex's accusation, and then both were drowned in the most astonishing fury she'd ever experienced. The anger she'd felt at discovering the St. Clair-Hypertron deal had been a tempest in a teapot compared with the boiling cauldron of resentment she felt at the knowledge that Alex believed she'd betrayed him.
How dare he accuse her of being underhanded enough to call her father with confidential information about CIS?
Isabel shot off the couch and shoved Alex's chest until he took two steps backward, enough room for her to stand toe-to-toe with him. He could smolder and tower and intimidate all he wanted, but she wasn't going to let him accuse her of something she hadn't done.
Poking her finger into that rock-solid chest, she shouted, "How dare you accuse me of something so despicable? I'm not the one who entered this marriage with hidden motives, Alex Trahern. I've been up-front with you right from the beginning."
Too up-front. Not only had she fallen in love with a man too stupid to recognize loyalty when he saw it, but she'd been idiot enough to tell him about it. He didn't deserve her love and he sure didn't deserve to know about it.
He didn't look impressed by her anger. "So up-front that when you realized you weren't convincing me with your big guilt-trip about the employees, you told your dad what you knew about St. Clair's plans?" His voice was once again low and filled with chilling rage.
"I didn't need to tell my dad. My 'big guilt-trip,' as you put it, was working. You would have caved any day now."
He'd tried to hide it, but she'd seen how she was getting to him—and arrogant, proud beast or not, he could darn well admit it.
"If you didn't tell him, who did?"
The question acted like a handbrake on all that cleansing rage rushing through her, and her heart did a three-sixty as everything inside her skidded to a halt. If Alex understood the first thing about her love for him—if he loved her at all—he wouldn't, he couldn't believe such a thing.
"I don't know, Alex, but it wasn't me." She desperately wanted him to believe her. Needed him to believe her.
Didn't he understand that she could never betray his trust? That the person inside the body he craved would never do something so devious?
Just as she believed, evidence to the contrary, that he had never had any intention of using her to hurt her father. She had ultimately trusted him when he denied having plans to hurt her or her father through her. Her love for Alex made her see the best in him, and it made her capable of believing in his honor even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
The key word there was love. She loved, him and he desired her. His feelings for her were based on physical lust—and that did not engender faith in another person. With love came trust, and as Alex didn't love her, he didn't trust her, either.
She let her hands fall to her sides and looked him straight in the eye, though it hurt to do so.
Seeing the accusation and disappointment in his eyes was like being flayed with a cat-o'-nine tails right across her vulnerable heart, but she faced him proudly. "If I decided to call my father with details of that awful hostile takeover, I would tell you first. It isn't something I would try to hide."
He put one finger under her chin, the gentle touch at odds with the leashed anger still evident in his eyes. "Are
you telling me that it never crossed your mind to tell your dad about St. Clair's plans?"
She knocked his hand away and glared at him. Did he think she'd lie about it? She didn't have to. The truth was good enough.
"I did think about it." She glowered at him, daring him with her eyes to make something of it, but he was intelligent enough to remain silent. "But I couldn't convince myself it was a viable option."
"Why?"
Was he beginning to believe her? A spark of hope came to life before she quenched it with a bucketful of reality. Perhaps she could convince her husband that she hadn't betrayed him, but that wouldn't alter the fact that he didn't love her—the fact that he had assumed she was guilty because deep down where it counted, he didn't trust her love for him.
He shouldn't have had to ask that question. The answer was obvious.
"I couldn't betray you because I love you." She felt her voice breaking as weary sadness replaced her anger.
She took a deep breath to control her devastated emotions. He wouldn't understand that reasoning, but it was all she had. She stepped back and to the side, intent on leaving before she lost the precarious control she had over a sudden overwhelming urge to cry.
Alex's hand snaked out to stop her. He took a deep breath. "I know the employees mean a lot to you, Isabel. I can almost understand your feeling justified in telling Harrison."
He hadn't believed her. She wasn't surprised, but it still hurt. She twisted her arm from his grasp. "I'm glad you can, because I couldn't. I suggest you look elsewhere for your leak, Alex, because I'm not it."
Tears burned her eyes. She needed to be alone. She left the room before Alex could stop her again.
* * *
Alex watched Isabel rush down the hall toward the stairs and sucked in air, tainted with the guilty knowledge he'd hurt her. Damn. If he'd taken a few minutes to stop and think instead of charging over to the house like an enraged rhino, he would have handled that whole scene differently.
So what if she'd told her dad about St. Clair? Contrary to what Alex had claimed in anger, CIS wasn't going to lose over this. St. Clair's career in the arbitrage industry made him naturally cynical. Discovering Alex had a supposed leak at his company hadn't fazed St. Clair in the least. He had been grateful, in fact, that the nameless "spy" had saved him from attempting a takeover bid that would probably have failed, now that Hypertron's newest technology would be on time to market.
And hadn't Alex already decided to try to convince St. Clair to take a different approach with Hypertron?
Isabel's actions had only preempted his own and he could understand those actions, even admire them. She was motivated by her concern for the employees. It made sense and it was something he respected about her.
Alex raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. The problem, of course, was that he hated the idea that behind his back Isabel had gone to her father. He'd felt betrayed and he'd acted on that feeling of betrayal.
Now his tenderhearted wife was no doubt sobbing her heart out on their bed, if she wasn't packing a bag because she didn't want to continue living with a man who lost his cool and yelled at her. Isabel had looked so hurt when she left.
She loved him and that made her vulnerable to him. He should never have lost his temper.
The guilt he had been feeling toward the nameless employees at Hypertron was nothing compared with what he felt toward his wife right now. And she'd been right—her campaign had been working. He'd been feeling very guilty.
Isabel felt Alex's hand on her back, and her body stiffened while she tried to swallow the tears racking her body.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, rejecting his apology.
He pulled her around to face him. "I am. I can't tell you how much. I don't want to hurt you."
She took a deep, shuddering breath and lifted her face to meet his eyes. He was sorry? Did that mean that he believed her?
"I should never have lost my temper like that." His face twisted with remorse as he wiped at the wetness on her cheeks with his fingertips. "You've been right all along about the effect on the employees and the community a hostile takeover would have had."
"I'm glad you see that." But did he believe her that she hadn't told her father about Mr. St. Clair's plans?
"In fact, this morning, I was running numbers and trying to come up with a proposal for St. Clair to change his plans from a hostile takeover to investing in Hypertron." He looked at her expectantly.
"That's good." But did he believe her?
His face registered disappointment at her response. "I was stupid to get upset about your dad and St. Clair cutting a deal. It saved me time and effort, not to mention the dubious pleasure of helping your dad save his company."
She struggled to sit up, and he helped her to get comfortable against the headboard.
"That's very commendable."
He grimaced. "Not really. I don't like seeing you upset, sweetheart. I would have done just about anything to get you smiling at me again."
That knowledge should have made her feel good, but nothing was penetrating past her need to know if he believed her now.
"So, who do you think spilled the beans to my dad?" she asked by way of finding out if Alex had changed his mind about its being her.
He sighed. "Don't worry about it, honey. It's done now and I can't even say that I'm sorry."
"But I am worried. Either you have a leak in your company, or someone has hacked into your computers. You should be worried, too."
His smile was gentle. "You don't have to pretend anymore, all right? I'm not angry any longer. I realize I shouldn't have gotten mad at you in the first place. I know what a compassionate woman you are, and I should have expected you to take more direct measures when you weren't sure your guilt campaign was working."
So, he didn't believe her.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "But it was working. You admitted it."
"But you didn't know that."
"Who says?"
"Look, let's not get into this, okay? I said I don't mind. I know it's not something you'd ever do again."
"Why?" If she'd betrayed him once, why wouldn't she do it again?
"Because the same set of circumstances won't arise."
"You mean you'll make darn sure I don't have access to confidential information anymore?"
His guilty start said it all. Her heart felt numb, so this new evidence of his lack of trust didn't wound her. Perhaps it would later, but right now she was just too tired to care. The emotional upheaval of the last hour, coupled with her afternoon sleepy spells, had resulted in bone-weary exhaustion.
She closed her eyes against the certainty of her guilt in his. "I'm tired."
She heard his sigh as he stood up. "Maybe you should take a nap."
Isabel nodded, opening her eyes, but she avoided looking at him. She settled down farther on the bed and turned on her side to get into a comfortable sleeping position.
She felt the weight of a quilt settle over her and then the firm warmth of Alex's hands as he tucked it around her. "We'll talk more later."
She didn't respond to that assertion. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing more to say on the subject. He believed she'd betrayed him. She hadn't. End of subject. At least for right now.
"I'd like to go to sleep now."
Leaning down, he kissed her lightly on her temple. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart."
What was going to be okay? A lifetime of living with a man who didn't trust her? She didn't think so, and there was absolutely no way she was going to accept such a situation. She was going to make him see that she wouldn't have told her dad about St. Clair's plans, and then Alex was going to apologize. And this time, he was going to mean it, not simply be sorry he hurt her feelings.
But for now, she needed a nap. Arguing with her husband took more energy than she had to spare at the moment.
Chapter 18
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So, what was stopping him from believing her? It was his certainty that the only other people who knew about the deal, Marcus and Veronica, wouldn't betray him.
They'd had access to information of far more lucrative value over the past few years, and neither one had ever leaked so much as what time he took his coffee breaks. It was this knowledge more than any other that had convinced him so absolutely that Isabel had been the one to tell Harrison about St. Clair's plans. But did that make sense?
She loved him. And he loved her. The knowledge settled in his heart with a pleasant warmth totally at odds with the wariness with which he'd always approached that emotion. He'd been infatuated with her picture and fallen in love with the woman. She was everything he could want out of life: loving, giving, feisty, strong, and so sexy she made him combust with desire every time he held her in his arms.
Alex didn't know why it had taken him so long to come to terms with his feelings, but now that he had, the current situation took on different meaning. Loving Isabel meant trusting her, believing in her.
Would a woman who loved him go behind his back and leak confidential information? No. Particularly if that woman was Isabel. When had she ever shown a hesitation to confront him? And as she'd said—though he'd been too angry to accept it at the time—if she had planned to tell her father about St. Clair, she would have informed Alex of her intentions.
She had too much integrity to skulk around behind his back.
He groaned, snapping in two the pencil he'd been idly playing with. Why hadn't he thought of that earlier, when she was so busy repeatedly and vehemently protesting her innocence? He'd messed up every way he looked today and it was only getting worse.
Because if his wife hadn't leaked the confidential information, someone else had, and Alex had wasted valuable investigative time acting like a total jerk to Isabel. It was not a comforting thought. St. Clair had said Harrison had gotten the information from CIS, but that didn't mean it was true. Even if it was, the leak could have come from a compromised computer as Isabel had suggested, or one of Alex's field employees could have done some unapproved research while in the office.