Blind Love

by SUE FINEMAN

  “Fawn?”

  “They haven’t found her yet.”

  “Spike hit her. He made her walk down the hill to put the ransom note in the mailbox, but she didn’t come back.”

  Tony didn’t feel sorry for Fawn. Men like Spike didn’t do things for nothing. She knew that when she asked him to bail her out of jail. She’d traded her freedom for Catherine’s life. When the authorities found her, she’d lose her freedom for a good long time, maybe forever.

  Kidnapping was a federal offense.

  <>

  Fawn spent the night in a sleazy motel with the trucker from hell. The bed was hard, his breath was bad enough to kill a moose, and his snoring could wake the dead.

  The next day, he stopped at a discount store on the outskirts of LA and handed her a hundred dollars to buy herself some new clothes. She almost cried. A hundred dollars wouldn’t buy the kind of bra she was accustomed to wearing, and he expected her to buy a whole outfit. She bought herself a new bra, a package of underwear, a pair of jeans, a knit shirt, and socks. That should get her by for a couple days.

  When she climbed back in the truck, she handed him his change. Two dollars and thirty-six cents. She didn’t tell the trucker she had money on her, and he didn’t ask.

  He didn’t need to know.

  After driving all day and all night, the trucker stopped at a truck stop, crawled into the bed behind the seat, and went to sleep.

  Fawn walked inside and found herself a new ride with Bob, a rugged looking man with a gleam in his eye. Minutes later, she was on her way to Denver.

  <>

  Once Catherine woke up, she told the doctor she wanted to go home. “My mother can take care of me, and my father shouldn’t be walking around so much on his sore leg.”

  A little smile pulled at the corners of the doctor’s mouth. “You don’t like our luxury accommodations?”

  “Not especially.”

  “Maybe tomorrow. We’ll see. Tell your father to stay home and take care of himself, that you’ll be there soon.”

  “Okay.”

  Two days later, the doctor released her. She didn’t want to be alone with Fawn out there somewhere, but she wouldn’t be alone at Father’s house. Her parents were there, and so were Sanchez and Jill. And Tony. In all the time she’d spent in the hospital, he’d seldom left her side. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but not here, not at the hospital.

  The raw skin on her ankles didn’t sting anymore, the lumps on her head weren’t so prominent, and her ruptured eardrum was healing. Thank God Tony came in when he had. One more kick to the head and she would have slept forever.

  Tony drove Catherine home, and her parents had a quiet welcome home party for her.

  After the party, Tony took her upstairs, where he could kiss her and hold her in private. “I love you, Princess. God, how I love you.”

  She stroked his face with her soft hand. “I love you, too, Tony. I should have told you on the show, but I was so stunned. I thought you’d chosen me by default.”

  “I chose you because I loved you, Catherine. I’ll always love you, honey.”

  <>

  A few days later, Henry sent Catherine some tapes of the show to go through. While she worked, Tony walked over to Emily’s house with Megan to clean up the mess. He didn’t want Catherine to see all that blood. It would give her nightmares.

  Walt rode his wheelchair over, but not before making sure Jill and Sanchez would stay close in case Catherine needed them. Nobody wanted her to stay alone.

  The meandering one-lane drive led past a little fish pond, through lush landscaping, to the smaller house on the back of the hill.

  Tony unlocked the door and Megan walked inside. “Emily remodeled since I was here last. This is nice. I wouldn’t mind living here myself.” She turned to look at Walt. “It’s all on one floor.”

  “Yeah, that’s good. She did a good job on the remodel. Why don’t you fix it up and decorate the way you want, and we’ll move over here? Emily isn’t planning to come back, and we don’t need that big house. We’ll give it to Catherine. She can add an elevator and turn it into a hotel.”

  Tony didn’t tell them he had another hotel to give Catherine. Could she run two places at the same time? Would she even want the plantation house after Walt gave her his mansion on the hill?

  He scrubbed Catherine’s blood off the kitchen floor and Spike’s off the refrigerator. Spike sat in a jail cell awaiting trial. If the feds didn’t convict him of kidnapping, the State of California would try him for attempted murder. Either way, he wouldn’t likely be out in this lifetime.

  Fawn was another story. She’d disappeared. Nobody knew where she’d gone, but she couldn’t hide forever. Her picture had been on all the major news stations, and Walt had offered a fifty-thousand dollar reward for information leading to her arrest. Someone would spot her and turn her in.

  Unless she’d left the country.

  <>

  In Denver, Fawn woke in Bob’s bed. He had to leave this morning for a four-day trip. “You could come with me.”

  “I wish I could, but I don’t want to mooch off you forever. I need to find a job.”

  After a morning quickie, he showered and went into the kitchen, singing in a deep baritone. “Breakfast in ten minutes,” he called.

  “Okay.” Another greasy breakfast. Bob liked his eggs swimming in grease and his hash browns the same way. She preferred something a little more healthy—scrambled eggs and dry toast with fresh fruit—but she couldn’t complain. Bob had given her a place to live, and although he got a little rough in bed, he treated her well.

  She wrapped herself in his robe and walked out to the kitchen.

  After breakfast and a long, hot shower, she kissed Bob goodbye.

  “Good luck on your job hunting,” he said.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when he walked out the door. In three days, she could be in Canada. Or Mexico. Sipping a last cup of coffee, she sat in front of the television and saw a report on the kidnapping of Catherine Timmons. The report ended with Fawn’s picture. Her stomach dropped. She had a reward on her head.

  She dressed quickly, pulled her hair into a twist and pinned it to her head, put her sunglasses on, and opened the door.

  “Put your hands up and step out the door,” an officer said.

  Fawn dropped her discount store bag and her purse and raised her hands. One officer frisked her for weapons and another read from a little card.

  Bob stood behind the officers, and she knew he’d turned her in for the reward money.

  “I need to speak with an attorney.” She needed more than an attorney.

  Fawn needed a miracle.

  <>

  Over dinner that evening, Catherine’s father said, “Catherine, as soon as we get some work done on the other house, Megan and I are moving out. You can have this one to start a hotel.”

  She was so stunned, it took her a minute to reply. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely sure. I can’t get upstairs or downstairs in this place, and it’ll belong to you someday anyway, so why not now?”

  Did she want to start a hotel here? Yes and no. The house would need work before it could be used as a hotel, and when he put the property in her name, she’d have a huge tax bite. “I need to talk with an accountant before we do anything. I want to make sure I can afford the taxes. I need to check on zoning, too.”

  Father nodded. “Smart girl. We’ll talk with my attorney, make sure we do everything right.”

  “We need to have the doors widened at Emily’s house and have a bigger shower put in the master bedroom, so your father can sit down in the shower if he needs to,” said Megan.

  “I can help with that,” said Tony, “but not right away. I have another project in the works right now.”

  “We’re in no hurry,” said Walt.

  Catherine knew she’d end up with the house at some point, but she didn’t think it would happen for a few years. The place she really
wanted was the house she’d come to think of as the plantation. It was big for a house, but small for a hotel. There was enough property to add private cottages and a restaurant. She should have offered to buy it when Tony took her to see it. If she had, Nick might not have sold it to someone else.

  Tony had been so attentive the past few days, but they hadn’t talked like she thought they would. She didn’t push him into a discussion of the future. She couldn’t. If he wanted a future with her, he’d have to initiate the discussion himself. If he didn’t, she’d stay with Henry through another show and then leave to start a hotel business.

  Late that afternoon, while Megan was fixing dinner, Catherine sat with Tony out by the pool. He took her hand. “Walt called me the day the show started. He asked me if I loved you.”

  She was almost afraid to ask. “What did you tell him?”

  “I said it felt like a part of me was missing when I wasn’t with you. I told him I wished I didn’t have to go on that stupid show, because I’d already found the woman I wanted.”

  The warmth of love flowed through Catherine’s body. Tony didn’t choose her by default. He loved her before the show began. And she loved him. “After my father came home from the hospital, he asked me if I loved you. I couldn’t lie to him any more than I could lie to your mother when she asked me the same question at Cara’s birthday party. I said yes.”

  Tony cocked his head. “We could have skipped the show.”

  “No, we couldn’t. We were both committed, and speaking of commitment, I’m waiting for a proposal.”

  “I can’t afford a fancy ring right now, Princess. I spent all my money.”

  “On what?

  He flashed a smile. “I’ll have to show you. Will you marry me without a fancy ring?”

  “Megan,” Catherine called. “Can we borrow your rings?”

  “Honey, you can have them.”

  Catherine raised her eyebrows. “Problem solved.”

  Tony leaned over and kissed her. “You want to go upstairs and finish this, Princess?”

  “Finish?” She laughed a little. “Tony, we’re just getting started.”

  <>

  The next day, Tony drove Catherine to the property near San Simeon. He wanted to show her what he’d spent his money on.

  On the way, Catherine said, “Henry wants to use the house in Santa Barbara for the next show, and my parents should be moved out by then.”

  “What about your hotel business?”

  “I don’t know, Tony. I wanted to start out smaller. I thought about buying the property you’re working on and starting a hotel there first, but you said Nick sold it to someone else. I really liked it, too.”

  That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He pulled off the highway and drove up into the hills. As he pulled up in front of the gate, he watched her face.

  The sign read:

  Coming soon

  Catherine’s Plantation Hotel

  She squealed. “This is what you spent your money on?”

  “It’s a gift for my bride-to-be. One of these days, when we’re raking in the money, I’ll buy you the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen.”

  He stopped for a long, tender kiss. This place, Catherine’s Plantation, was a gift of love.

  It wasn’t blind love.

  They both had their eyes—and their hearts—wide open.

  Thank you for reading Blind Love. Please turn the page for an excerpt of The Inheritance, Book Three of the Donatelli Family series.

  THE INHERITANCE

  by

  Sue Fineman

  Chapter One

  Blade Banner booted up his computer and sipped his morning coffee. He’d been up half the night working on this project, and if he didn’t get it finished and delivered by the end of the day today, he wouldn’t get paid.

  The phone rang. Blade stared at the clock on the wall. Six o’clock in the morning. The client wouldn’t call him at this hour, and it was too early for telemarketers or pranksters. He grabbed the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Is this Blade Michael Banner?” a man asked.

  “That depends. If you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”

  “This is Colin Jacobs, Attorney at Law in Manhattan.”

  “I guess people in New York can’t tell time,” he muttered mostly to himself.

  “It’s nine here, and I wanted to catch you before you left for work.”

  “Yeah, okay, you caught me. What’s this about?”

  “Was your father John Edward Banner?”

  Blade groaned. “Don’t tell me the old man wants to play daddy now.”

  “This isn’t about your father. He is deceased.”

  “Oh, yeah? When?”

  “Twenty years ago.”

  Blade sucked in a breath and blew it out. He hadn’t seen his old man since he was five, and he had nothing but contempt for the man who’d beaten him and then abandoned him. “I guess that explains why I didn’t get any Christmas cards.”

  “Your grandfather would like you to come to New York to meet with him.”

  Blade froze. “What grandfather?” Nobody told him he had a grandfather.

  The attorney said, “I’ve taken the liberty of booking a first-class seat for you for this afternoon. I’ll have a limo waiting at the airport.”

  Grandfather? First class? Limo? Where was this grandfather when Blade was growing up, and why did he want to see him now? And who in the hell did this shyster think he was, taking ‘the liberty’ of booking a seat before he bothered to ask Blade if he wanted to come. “If my grandfather wants to speak with me, give him my phone number and remind him of the three-hour time difference. And tell him I have other plans for this afternoon.” Blade dropped the receiver in the cradle.

  Five minutes later, the phone rang, and he knew it had to be the attorney again. Blade let it ring three times before picking it up. “Blade Banner.”

  “Mr. Banner, have you heard of the Banner-Covington Shipping Corporation?”

  Who hadn’t? It was one of the biggest shipping companies in the world. “What about it?”

  “Your grandfather is Edward Banner, the former CEO of the company. He’s dying, and you are the only living member of his family.”

  When Blade found his voice, he said, “Can you make that ticket for tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have my secretary call you with the details.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Blade spent the next hour researching the corporation and the Banner family on the Internet. John Banner came to this country from England in 1760 with his son, Martin. Martin ran a shipping company in Boston, which he later bought. A few generations later, they’d lost it all, and James Banner moved to New York City, where he studied law and eventually became a distinguished judge. His youngest child, Edward Banner, was born in 1918.

  Mary Elizabeth Covington Banner, the only child of the Covington shipping family, had passed away four years ago. She and Edward Banner had been married for sixty-eight years. They had three sons. The oldest became a priest. Father Michael died in Africa in 1980. The middle son, Matthew, died in a plane crash in 1992. And the youngest was Blade’s father, John Edward Banner, who passed away nearly twenty years ago from liver failure. He drank himself to death. No surprise there.

  With the merger of the two families and their fortunes, the Covington shipping business became the Banner-Covington Shipping Corporation. Edward Banner’s net worth now hovered around a half-billion dollars, and the old man had outlived his entire family, all but his only grandson, Blade Michael Banner, who stared at the computer screen in stunned disbelief.

  <>

  Blade finished the project and delivered it to the client late that afternoon. They had another assignment for him, but Blade didn’t take it. He had no idea how long this business in New York would take.

  Early the next morning, Blade strapped himself into a first class seat for the flight to JFK airport in New York. First class was a whol
e lot more comfortable than coach, and he decided he’d go first class all the time from now on. If someone else bought the ticket.

  Hours later, a uniformed limo driver met him at the airport and drove him through the gates of a massive brick home. A butler walked out to meet him, and a man took Blade’s bag and disappeared into the cavernous house.

  As he walked through the front door, Blade knew he should have gone shopping for clothes before he left Seattle. This was a formal home with uniformed servants, and he wore jeans and a well-worn leather jacket. He felt out of place here, like Jed in the Beverly Hillbillies.

  The house reminded him of a hotel, with a winding staircase in the grand entry that curved up three stories. The butler showed him to a suite on the second floor. The sitting room had dainty European furniture that might break if someone actually sat on it, the bathroom was bigger than his entire house in Gig Harbor, and the bed could sleep six people. Too bad it didn’t come with a woman.

  The butler bowed slightly. “Mr. Banner will see you in thirty minutes.”

  Blade unpacked a few things, ran his electric razor over his face, and changed into slacks, loafers, and his best pullover sweater. He’d left his only suit at home.

  The butler returned to escort Blade to his grandfather’s room, down the hallway on the other side of the house. The room was massive and the furnishings ornate. It looked like something out of an old gothic movie, beautiful and creepy at the same time.

  “Mr. Banner, your grandson is here to see you,” the butler announced.

  The nurse backed away from the bed and Blade got his first look at his grandfather. He was old and wrinkled, but the blue eyes he stared out of were the same eyes Blade saw in the mirror every morning. He felt an instant connection to the wizened old man lying in the big bed.

  “Come closer, boy.”

  Blade walked to the side of the big four-poster bed, where the old man stared at him. “So you’re my grandson.” He scanned Blade’s body and rested again on his eyes. “You look like my son, Matthew. How old are you?”

  “Thirty-nine, and you already knew that.”

  The old man’s face crinkled into a smile. “I wish I’d known about you when you were a boy,” the old man said gently. “What kind of work do you do?”