by Lucy Monroe
Grabbing a yellow tablet, Alex started creating an information matrix with all of the pieces of the puzzle at his disposal. It's what he should have done after the phone call with St. Clair, rather than storming over to the house and behaving like an idiot to his wife.
An hour later, Alex walked into Marcus's office and closed the door. He'd spent the last hour deciding how to proceed and had drawn several conclusions. One of them being he was certain Marcus was not the spy.
The blond man looked up from his computer screen. "Hey Alex, what's up?"
"I've been giving some thought to your idea of expanding CIS into corporate investigations."
Marcus's smile split his face. "Great."
"The problem is, I think I need to take on a partner to head that side of the company. I've got enough work overseeing what we currently do."
Marcus tensed behind his desk. "I guess I thought you'd let me take it on."
"I thought about it, but I can't have my assistant heading another department. It's really the job for a partner." Watching Marcus's expression turn thunderous, Alex thought it really was fitting to use the man's own sense of humor against him. "If you were my partner, then everything would pretty much fall into place."
After several seconds of stunned silence, Marcus asked, "Are you serious?"
"Yes. You interested?"
"Yes," Marcus replied.
"Good. Then I've got your first case for you. We've got a spy," he said, repeating the words Marcus had used to gain his attention the day Alex met Isabel.
* * *
Isabel finished setting the table just as Alex entered the kitchen. She looked up. "I was beginning to think you were going to work right through dinner."
And part of her had hoped he would, while another part had grown angry at the possibility that he was avoiding her because of her supposed betrayal.
His eyes warily raked over her. "No."
"As I can see."
His lips curved in a grimace. "Isabel…"
She adjusted the already perfectly stationed silverware, not wanting to look at him. Her nap had helped her to gain control over her careening emotions, but nothing would soothe the wound in her soul from the reminder that all of her hopes of Alex loving her had come to nothing.
His hand fell on her shoulder, and she had to fight the urge to turn into him and beg him to hold her, to make her forget the pain of their earlier confrontation.
"I'm sorry."
She didn't look up from her unnecessary rearrangement of the cutlery on the table. "For what?"
Was he going to apologize again for losing his temper? She didn't want another one of those apologies. She wanted him to know he'd been wrong … without her having to argue the point with logic.
She felt his fingers cup her cheek, gently applying pressure on her to turn and face him. She allowed him to turn her face until their eyes met. His were full of remorse. She knew hers reflected her caution. She wasn't going to let her hopes have upward mobility again.
"I accused you of telling your dad about St. Clair's plans."
"I remember."
"I'm sorry."
"Fine." He probably was sorry he'd accused her. He'd made it pretty obvious earlier that upsetting her made him feel bad.
His sigh ruffled the hair at her temples. "No. It's not fine. I had no business believing you were capable of doing something so sneaky."
She spun to face him completely, finding herself trapped between his big body and the solid oak table. "You don't believe any longer that I was the one that told my dad?"
"No."
Then the other shoe dropped. No wonder he'd worked so late. He didn't trust her because he'd suddenly discovered an overwhelming love that wouldn't let him believe the worst of her. He'd found the culprit.
"So, who is it?"
He frowned. "I don't know."
"But you found evidence to indicate a leak from within?"
"No." He shrugged. "I'm not convinced the leak didn't originate in St. Clair's office. Marcus is looking into it."
"Let me get this straight." This was important. "You don't have any new evidence?"
"No."
"Yet you no longer believe I'm the culprit?" She had to be absolutely sure of what he was saying.
"Right." His hands settled on her shoulders again. "I'm sorry I ever did. Can you forgive me?"
"Why?"
"Why do I want you to forgive me?"
For such a successful businessman who made his living using his brain, her husband could be thick sometimes.
"Why don't you believe I'm guilty any longer?"
"You're too open to have done it behind my back."
"I tried to tell you that."
"And I didn't believe you. I'm sorry."
She was getting tired of those two words, especially when it was three others she so badly needed to hear. "So why do you believe me now?" Please tell me you love me, her heart begged silently.
"The way you handled your business with Marcus. You could have hidden from me the fact that he'd contacted you, and continued to see me, but you didn't. And the way you've been since finding out about the St. Clair—Hypertron deal. You've been in my face with statistics, arguments, and lectures, but you haven't tried emotional blackmail. You're just too honest to do something like that, and I should have realized earlier that you were too honest to contact your dad behind my back."
So. It made sense to him. No words of love in that little litany of her admirable character traits.
She swallowed her disappointment. She should be grateful for small favors. At least he respected her enough to realize she would not betray him. He'd also apologized, which showed he cared about her feelings even if he did not love her.
She forced a smile of acceptance to her lips. "Thank you. Why don't we eat dinner now?"
He looked disappointed by her response, but for the life of her, she could not drum up one more ounce of enthusiasm for his logical apology.
She shrugged his hands from her shoulders and moved around the table to her seat. "You'd better sit down. Spaghetti isn't all that appetizing cold."
He nodded but watched her for several seconds before complying.
* * *
The next morning Alex was sitting at his desk, wondering how to overcome the stalemate in his marriage.
He'd apologized to his wife, told her he believed her and why. He'd told her he trusted her and she had reacted with apathy. He didn't like it. Not one little bit.
"I've discovered our spy."
Alex looked up and winced at the look on his new partner's face.
Marcus wore the expression of a man ravaged by pain. "It was Ronnie."
"Our secretary?" Alex couldn't take it in.
"Yes."
"How did you find out?"
Marcus crumpled a piece of paper in his hand. "It didn't take a lot of detective work. She left a note on my desk admitting it was her. I found it this morning when I came in."
Considering that when Alex arrived over an hour ago, Marcus had been in his office, he had clearly not dealt well with discovering that his girlfriend had betrayed the company.
"I'm sorry."
"Me, too. I really believed in her integrity."
"I did, too." Alex was sure Veronica had had a reason for doing what she'd done. "Hell, maybe she was trying to save my marriage."
Marcus looked as if he thought Alex had gone one over the legal limit.
"Women understand each other a hell of a lot better than we understand them, Marcus. She probably knew that if I went through with helping St. Clair achieve the takeover, there would be a wedge driven between me and my wife."
Marcus shook his head. "Yeah. So, why disappear without a word to me? If her motives had been so altruistic, she wouldn't be gone."
Alex didn't have a ready response to that.
His new partner turned to go. "I'll contact St. Clair and let him know where the leak was."
"He'll want to know it
definitely didn't originate in his office."
"Not likely to have. He doesn't trust his employees. It would be damn hard for one of them to betray him." Marcus sounded like he wished he were as cynical.
And Alex wished he hadn't been … with his wife.
Chapter 19
« ^ »
"I know I don't have an appointment, but I have it on good authority that one of a husband's prerogatives is to drop in unannounced on his wife at work."
At the husky timber of Alex's voice, Isabel's hand froze over the file she'd been replacing in the drawer.
She'd used work as an excuse to avoid more heart-to-heart—or rather her heart to his logic—discussions the night before. He'd tried to talk to her a couple of times, but she refused to be drawn. When he took her in his arms after they went to bed, she'd told him she was too tired to make love. It had been true. Pregnancy had taken an unexpected toll on her energy.
Or maybe it was her emotional turmoil.
Alex had held her until she slept.
The last thing she'd expected was for him to show up in her office today. He had a corporate spy to find.
Snapping the file drawer shut, she opened the one below it. "I'll be right with you, Alex," she said, without turning around.
She had been searching for some information she needed before she called Lawrence Redding about a possible job opportunity, and that was as good an excuse as any to avoid Alex for a few minutes while collecting her scattered thoughts and emotions. Part of her was rejoicing that the hostile takeover of Hypertron issue was over. Another part of her was wondering what Alex intended to do instead to satisfy his sense of justice.
She pulled the file on the employer she planned to pitch Lawrence Redding to. It was a consulting firm. They were looking for a consultant with Lawrence's background. She'd felt like a fool when the idea came to her of pitching her old client to the firm. It was the perfect job for a man who didn't like to stay static, and she couldn't believe it had taken her so long to connect Lawrence with it.
A consultant never did the same exact job twice. Something always changed, whether it was the work environment or the work itself. Lawrence would finally be settled with one company, if not with one job. Alex should be happy. Even if he wasn't happy that Lawrence and Priscilla appeared to have found happiness.
Her mother-in-law had called that morning to invite her and Alex to dinner the following evening, saying that she had some good news to share. Isabel felt sure the older couple planned to announce their engagement.
Alex's hand settled on Isabel's shoulder, pulling her around to face him. He leaned past her and closed the drawer she had just opened. "That can wait, can't it?" He smiled, his dimple winking sexily at her. "I hoped you could take some time off this afternoon. I've got a picnic lunch in the car and some things I need to tell you."
He had a lot of nerve expecting her to set time aside for him when he'd rejected a similar offer from her so recently. She had a schedule to keep as well. "I'm a little busy this afternoon, Alex. Maybe another—"
Alex placed a finger gently against her lips.
"Before you turn me down, I should mention that the food isn't homemade. I don't have chocolate chip cookies and I'm not going to tell you I'm pregnant."
She smiled with bitter cynicism. "You make it sound irresistible."
He winced and she noticed for the first time that he didn't look nearly as confident as he sounded. "I know. I didn't tell you what I do have, though. I got the food from Diane's," he said, naming Isabel's all-time favorite restaurant.
"How did you know?" Although they'd been married a little more than a month, they hadn't eaten a meal there.
"I called Bettina. After giving me a dressing down that left me blushing, she became a fount of information."
Isabel grimaced at what her volatile friend had undoubtedly said to Alex. She couldn't imagine her husband doing anything so vulnerable as blush, but if anyone could make him do it, Bettina could. "But no chocolate chip cookies?"
"I've got key lime pie."
Bettina had been a fount of information. If Alex had managed to placate her furious friend, perhaps what he had to say would be worth listening to. Besides, she loved him and curiosity about what he planned to say ate at her resolve to remain aloof. He also looked darned irresistible with his dimple and an altogether too endearing insecurity shining out of his eyes.
An insecure Alex Trahern was something she'd never experienced. He always knew just what he wanted and how to go about getting it. What could he want now that he wasn't sure of getting?
"Okay. For key lime pie, you get half an hour."
She expected him to balk at the time limit and wasn't disappointed. If Bettina had told him about Isabel's favorite restaurant and dessert, she had surely also told him that Isabel didn't have any afternoon appointments, either.
"Sweetheart, I can't even get you to the picnic spot and back in half an hour."
She had no intention of making everything easy for him. Bettina might be placated, but then she believed Alex loved Isabel. Isabel wasn't harboring any such illusions. "Then let's have the picnic in my office."
His face split in a wickedly sensual grin. "Another time, honey, and I'll take you up on that, but today we need to talk and there's not enough privacy to do it here."
She could imagine just what Alex meant by a picnic another time, and against her will, she felt herself flushing. "You'd be lucky."
He nodded, his expression graver than she'd ever seen it. "Yes, Isabel, I would."
She felt herself swallowing a lump in her throat. Darn those pregnancy emotions, anyway. "You have one hour."
He grinned, relief shining brightly in his dark brown eyes, and she had the distinct impression that her small surrender on the time had been much more. Her fears were confirmed later when he drove through downtown Portland and crossed the Ross Island Bridge. She realized she wasn't going to make it back to her office at all that day.
They were on the road that led to Mt. Hood.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.
He smoothly shifted gears. "Someplace where we can talk without interruption."
"Does Bettina know about this?" She sensed her friend's fine hand at manipulation along with Alex's indomitable will at play in the current situation.
"She took care of things at your office. They don't expect to see you again until Monday morning."
Considering that it was only Wednesday, that meant Alex planned to do a lot of talking. "What about CIS?"
"Marcus is covering for me."
"I guess you can afford to take some time off now that St. Clair is working with my father instead of you, but what about your spy?"
"Taken care of."
"Already?"
"Yes."
"Who is it?"
"Veronica."
"Your perfect secretary? That paragon of office virtue?" Isabel couldn't quite keep the shock from her voice.
Alex frowned. "Yes."
"Why?"
"I have no idea. I would imagine for the money your dad paid her."
Isabel was sure there were extenuating circumstances. Despite Veronica's overzealous efficiency, Isabel had liked her. She had sensed something had been bothering the secretary the last few times she'd talked to her. Perhaps it had been the thought of selling out her employer.
Isabel felt bad for Alex that he'd been betrayed by an employee he trusted, but she couldn't mourn Veronica's actions. Whatever the woman's reasons, she had done her own part in saving Hypertron's employees from the layoff ranks.
What really interested Isabel was the way Alex behaved about the discovery. He acted as if it didn't matter.
"What are you going to do about it? I assume you have proof."
"She left a confession along with her resignation on Marcus's desk this morning. I'm not going to do anything about it."
"No revenge? No plans to destroy her life because she wrecked your perfect payback against
my dad?" Isabel knew she was goading him but figured he deserved it.
Alex turned his attention briefly from the road and faced her, his mouth set in a grim line. "No."
"Why not?"
Alex shrugged, his head facing forward once again. "I have more important issues to deal with at the present time than punishing Veronica for selling my secrets. She's gone from my company. That's enough."
"Did she leak a lot of information before she left?" Isabel couldn't help asking.
Her curiosity was aroused. The image of the perfect secretary as a corporate spy made an intriguing picture in her mind.
"According to her letter, no. And frankly, we've seen no evidence to the contrary. Marcus is attending to security measures while I'm gone."
"Dealing with your more important issues?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Like coming up with a new plan for vengeance against my dad and his company?" She didn't really think he meant to do that, but she wanted confirmation.
"No." His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He slid her a sidelong glance and then returned his focus to the road. "Why don't you take a nap, sweetheart? It's a long drive to our cabin."
In other words, he wasn't ready to talk about those more important issues yet. She wasn't sure she was, either, so she let him get away with the change in topic. "Our cabin—as in a cabin we're renting?"
"As in a cabin we own." Alex adjusted the climate control so that Isabel's vent blew pleasantly warm air on her.
"We have a cabin on the mountain?" He'd never said a word, but then there were a lot of things she hadn't known about her husband when they got married.
"Yeah. Do you ski?"
"No."
"I don't, either."
"Then why did you buy a cabin on Mt. Hood?"
"Property is a good investment."
She should have known.
"Besides, it's quiet."
There wasn't much to say to that. "I'm not tired," she said instead.