by Ginna Gray
How dare the man accuse her of being disloyal—her of all people. Then he makes matters worse by leaving without so much as a goodbye. Just when she had been starting to feel as though their marriage had a chance, he'd gone and pulled a stunt like that. Jerk.
"Oh, dear," Carly said. "I have a big problem. I received a call from the cruise-line this morning and they informed me that Max's mother fell and broke her leg on the cruise ship."
"Oh, no. How bad is it?" Elizabeth was immediately filled with concern, her anger at Max forgotten. The tone in her voice alerted her aunt that something was wrong, and the elderly woman listened intently.
"Apparently it's a bad break," Carly explained. "The ship's doctor put a temporary cast on her leg, but he thinks she should be seen by an orthopedic surgeon ASAP."
"Yes, of course she should."
"Oh, good, I'm so glad you agree," Carly exclaimed with relief. "As soon as I learned of the accident, I made arrangements for a private jet to fly her home. I just assumed that I'd be able to get in touch with Max and he would fly back in time to meet Iona at the airport, but I've been trying to contact him all morning, and neither he nor Troy are answering their phones," Carly continued.
"Don't worry about it. I'll pick her up and take her to an orthopedic surgeon, then bring her home with me. What time is she due to arrive?"
The instant Elizabeth hung up the telephone her aunt demanded to know what was going on.
"Oh, the poor dear," she said when Elizabeth explained.
"Apparently, it's a bad break. The cruise-ship line contacted Carly and she made arrangements to have her flown home in a private jet."
"That's good," her aunt said, nodding her approval. "She should be at home where her family can take care of her."
"Yes, well, Max is the only family she has left. I'm going to have to drive to Houston and pick her up. Her plane arrives in two hours."
Leaning on her cane, Talitha stood up. "I'm going with you. You may need help caring for her."
Between herself and Gladys and Dooley, Elizabeth doubted that, but she was glad for her aunt's company.
Elizabeth and Talitha arrived at the VIP lounge of the Houston airport just moments before the small jet touched down. Two male flight attendants carried Iona down the short flight of steps to where Elizabeth stood waiting with a rented wheelchair.
"Oh, my dear, I didn't expect you to meet me," Iona said, looking all around. "Where is my son?"
"He's away on business, and I haven't been able to reach him, so I came for you instead."
Iona spotted Talitha standing just inside the lounge. "Oh, dear, your aunt is here, too. I'm so sorry to be such a bother to both of you." Slowing down to accommodate her aunt's gait, Elizabeth steered the wheelchair through the lounge and out the door, where her car sat waiting.
"Mother Riordan, you're family now. Family is never a bother. We're happy to look after you."
"Yes, indeed," Talitha agreed, giving Iona's shoulder a squeeze. "Elizabeth has already made an appointment for you with Dr. Ron Watson. He's waiting for us at the hospital right now. He's a family friend, and one of the best orthopedic surgeons around. He did hip joint-surgery on me a few years ago, so I can personally vouch for him."
"That was very good of you. Still, I do so hate to be a burden."
"Nonsense," Talitha declared with a thump of her cane as they eased Iona into the back seat of the car. "Didn't we just say you weren't? Now, pull that cast into the car and let's be on our way."
As he'd promised, Dr. Watson was waiting for them. Leaving Elizabeth and her aunt in the visitors' lounge, he rolled his patient into a small examining room. From where the two women sat they could see various hospital staff going in and out of the curtained-off cubicle.
After a while the doctor came out and informed them that Iona was being prepped for surgery. "I'm going to have to reset the break and it's going to require some metal pins. After the surgery she'll be in recovery for a while, but if everything goes well, you can take her home once she's awake and lucid."
While they waited, Elizabeth called Max's cell phone several times, but there was no answer. Finally she gave up and called his secretary and asked that she continue to try to reach him.
It was after six when they finally arrived at the River Oaks house. With the help of Gladys and Dooley they carried Iona inside.
"You should've taken me to my apartment. We have an elevator there," the patient said in a slurred voice.
"We have an elevator here, too," Elizabeth assured her. "And we have one in the farmhouse at Mimosa Landing. So you're going to be just fine at either place. Now, no more apologizing and fretting, you hear? We are happy to take care of you."
They put her in one of the guest rooms that had its own TV. After a light dinner, Iona swore she wasn't sleepy, so Talitha sat by her bedside and they played gin rummy. Within twenty minutes, however, Elizabeth heard the clank of the elevator, and shortly afterward Talitha came into the den and announced, "She's out like a light. Fell asleep right in the middle of the game. I pulled the covers up over her and left her sleeping."
"Poor thing. It's been a rough day for her," Elizabeth murmured. She stood and stretched. "Speaking of rough days, I'm pooped. I think I'll have an early night myself."
"Me, too," her aunt said.
Normally Elizabeth used the stairs, but since her aunt always used the elevator she stepped into the cubicle with her.
On the second floor, she kissed her aunt's cheek and bade her good-night, then she tiptoed into Iona's room and peeked in at her to be sure that she was okay.
When satisfied, Elizabeth went back into her own bedroom, pulled on her nightgown and went to bed.
She was sound asleep when the shrill of the bedside telephone woke her.
Rising up on her elbows, Elizabeth cast a bleary-eyed look around. Finally she woke up enough to answer the phone.
"Yes?" she said sleepily.
"How is my mother? Where is she?" Max's voice snapped in her ear. "I just got back to the hotel and found a message from Carly saying that Mom had been injured and you were seeing after her."
A glance at the bedside clock told her it was past midnight. She wanted to ask where he'd been at that hour, but she held her tongue.
"She's okay." Sitting up, Elizabeth propped one elbow on her drawn-up knees and raked her other hand through her tumbled hair. "She broke her right leg onboard ship. The cruise-line flew her from the ship to St. Thomas, and Carly chartered a jet that flew her from St. Thomas to Houston. Aunt Talitha and I met her plane and took her straight to the hospital. Dr. Ron Watson had to put her leg back together with pins. He's an excellent surgeon and a personal friend of my family."
"Is she all right?"
"She is now."
"May I speak to her?"
"She's asleep," Elizabeth informed him. "I suspect that she's sleeping off the lingering effects of the anesthesia. It would be better if you called her in the morning."
"Should I come home?" Max asked.
"Only if you want to," Elizabeth informed him in the coolest tone she could manage. "Unless you don't trust me to take care of her, that is."
A long silence followed. "I trust you, Elizabeth."
"Oh, really? That's news to me."
"Look, I don't want to get into this over the phone."
"Fine. Do whatever you want."
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm grateful to you for looking after her. And I'm sorry you got saddled with this burden. If you'd like, I can send Carly to pick her up and take her back to her apartment and hire around the clock nursing for her."
Elizabeth ground her teeth. The man was maddening. In one breath he is polite, and in the next he goes and spoils his apology with a remark like that.
"Must you be so insulting? Do you really think that I would leave your mother's care to some stranger? Or that I would for one minute resent taking care of her? And for your information, Iona is not a burden. She's a dear, sweet lady,
and my aunt and I are enjoying her company. She is welcome to stay as long as she'd like.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to sleep."
Without waiting for his answer, she replaced the receiver and plopped back down in the bed. As far as she was concerned, Maxwell Riordan could go butt a stump.
The next morning Iona was her old chipper self and getting around well on crutches. Elizabeth had just showered and was heading downstairs when she heard the telephone ring, and a few seconds later she heard Gladys inform Iona that the call was for her and it was her son.
Having no desire to speak to Max, Elizabeth slowed her steps. She could tell by Iona's voice how delighted she was to talk to him and how much the call had cheered her, and she was pleased for the old lady.
Elizabeth walked slowly down the hall and stopped outside the den. She knew Iona would expect her to talk to Max if she saw her.
As old people are wont to do, Iona told her son, in great detail, how she'd broken her leg, and how nice everyone had treated her. She also informed him that she had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Watson on Friday, and after that they planned to go to Mimosa Landing.
"So if you call and we're not here, that's where we'll be. Your sweet dear wife is insisting that I stay with her while I'm on the mend," Elizabeth heard her tell him.
"When are you coming home?" Mrs. Riordan asked, then frowned. "I see. Can't you give me a guess? I understand. You're in the middle of tough negotiations. Well, I guess we'll see you when we see you."
After Iona hung up the phone, Elizabeth waited a beat or two, then walked into the den.
"Oh, my dear. You just missed talking to Max."
"Really? Well, don't worry. I spoke to him last night."
"He says he doesn't know when he'll be home. He's had some sort of problem crop up on his current project, and he said he couldn't leave until he's got everything under control."
"Mmm. Well, that's too bad, but I'm sure he'll work it all out."
"Oh, my, yes. My son is an excellent businessman," Iona said, beaming.
After a hearty breakfast Elizabeth and her aunt and mother-in-law retired to the den. Ensconced in their comfortable plush recliners, a game show on the TV, the two old ladies talked endlessly while Iona crocheted and Talitha worked on her latest needlepoint project.
Gradually their conversation faded away and each nodded off. Elizabeth looked from one to the other and smiled. Both ladies were sound asleep and snoring softly.
The doorbell rang and Elizabeth hurried to answer it before the chimes woke Talitha and Iona.
"Wyatt. What are you doing here? I thought you were going to call."
"I was driving by and I thought I'd take a chance that you were in."
"I see. Well … won't you come in." A bit uneasy, Elizabeth closed the front door and led the way into the parlor.
Wyatt looked around. "I assume that Gladys has gone to the grocery store, as she usually does on Wednesday?"
"Yes. Yes, she has." How, she wondered, had he known that? "May I get you something to drink?" Elizabeth said, breaking the strained silence. "Coffee, perhaps. Mine isn't as good as Gladys's, but it's drinkable."
"No, thank you. I'm here because we need to talk, Elizabeth."
"Very well." She sat down in her favorite parlor chair and motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa, but he ignored her and began to pace. Finally he came to a halt and looked at her, his eyes seething. "How could you, Elizabeth?" he said between clenched teeth. "How could you marry that man?"
"Wyatt, I—"
"When I left you here, after my last visit, it was with the understanding that you would think over my proposal. Then the next thing I knew you had up and married that rough hooligan Max Riordan and the two of you were honeymooning in New York."
"Wyatt, I did think over your proposal, and it didn't suit me. I told you that before you left here that day. You just didn't want to hear it. I could never, under any circumstances, give over control of Mimosa Landing. Not to you or anyone. I'd think you'd understand that."
"You married Riordan for his money. You know it and I know it."
Elizabeth didn't know quite what to say to that. It was true, but somehow the idea of marrying for practical reasons seemed more acceptable with Max than with Wyatt. "Wyatt, please—"
"It infuriated me to see you with him at the Van Cleaves's party. To imagine you in bed with him. Dammit, Elizabeth, you were supposed to be mine."
"I … I'm sorry, Wyatt." She looked at him helplessly, wringing her hands. It was never her intention to hurt him. She didn't want to hurt anyone.
"It's clear now that I made a mistake in not marrying you on your terms." He made another pass around the room, both hands in his pockets, jiggling his change. "But it's not too late for us," he said, catching Elizabeth's gaze. "All we have to do is have an affair and that roughneck will drop you like a hot potato. Then you'll have Mimosa Landing and the trust he set up and be rid of him. And possibly, if we can get certain portions of the prenuptial agreement nullified, we'll get you a large chunk of his wealth."
Elizabeth stared at him, her mouth open, her mind zeroing in on the most pertinent part of his statement. "You read our prenuptial agreement, didn't you."
"Well … uh…"
"How else would you know about that clause?" She stared at his guilty expression. "Oh, my God, you read my entire file, didn't you?"
"Well…"
"Didn't you?"
"The prenup was right there in plain sight on John's desk. I'd gone into his office to see him about something and he wasn't there. Naturally when I spotted your name on the document I read it through. I was concerned, so I looked through your file as well."
"How dare you."
Though flustered at first, Wyatt seemed to shake off any embarrassment or guilt he felt. He shot her a challenging look.
"I make no apologies for what I did," he declared with a haughty look. "I was planning to make you my wife. Anything that concerned you was my business. Besides, I work for Fossbinder, Lassiter and Drummond. I have a right to look at the files. For Pete's sake, my father is a full partner in the firm."
"That's no excuse," Elizabeth snapped. "Neither you nor your father are my attorney, and I don't appreciate you snooping into my business. Your behavior was unethical and disreputable."
"Don't you get it? Everything I did, I did for you. For us," Wyatt yelled.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and studied his flustered face. "Oh … my … God! You're the one who's trying to ruin Max's Dallas project, aren't you."
"Yes."
She gasped. She had expected a hot denial, but he was so arrogant he admitted what he'd done as though proud of himself.
"I am part of a consortium. It wasn't difficult to get the others in the group to go after the property," Wyatt admitted. "To the others it was a business investment, but my plan was to hurt Riordan so badly financially that he'd go under. I did it for y—"
"Don't! Don't you dare say you did it for me," she ordered. "And furthermore, I don't believe for one moment that you love me. Why don't you admit it? The real reason you want to marry me is to get your hands on Mimosa Landing."
"So what?" he countered. "Mimosa Landing should have become part of the Lassiter holdings long ago."
"What?" Elizabeth was so taken aback by the statement she was stunned into silence. Before she could regain the use of her tongue, Wyatt grabbed both her upper arms, snatched her up out of the chair and covered her mouth with his.
Elizabeth's muffled screams were fruitless. She twisted and squirmed and pounded at his chest with both hands. The kiss was rough and unpleasant and made her queasy. She bucked and stomped on his immaculately polished shoes, trying with everything in her to break his hold, but she was no match for him. When he finally managed to pry her mouth open and plunged his tongue inside, she bit down, hard. "Ow!"
Taking advantage of his distraction, Elizabeth pushed out of his arms and backed away, wiping he
r mouth with the back of her hand. "I told you to stop and I meant it," she said, panting.
"I'm bleeding. Why, you little bitch," he snarled. Closing the gap between them in two rapid steps, he dealt her a vicious back-handed blow. Pain exploded along the left side of her face, and the force of the blow sent her staggering backward. She bumped into an end table and sent a lamp crashing to the floor, then tumbled over the arm of the sofa onto the cushions.
Shock momentarily paralyzed her. She'd never been struck in her life. Then her face began to throb and the next thing she knew, Wyatt's furious face filled her line of vision. Kneeling over her, his knees on either side of her thighs, he inserted his hand in the V of her satin blouse and yanked. Cloth tore and buttons popped and went sailing around the room like bullets.
"No! Stop! Stop it!" Elizabeth cried out, slapping at him.
"You think you can play me along," Wyatt muttered, working at the waistband of her slacks. "Cheat me out of what should have been mine. When I'm through with you not even that oil-field roughneck will want you."
"Stop it! No! Noooo!" Elizabeth fought as hard as she could, but he easily overpowered her. In desperation she raked her fingernails down both sides of his face.
Wyatt yelled in pain. He touched his cheek with one hand, and when he saw blood on his fingertips his expression turned crazed. "Why you—"
He drew back his hand to strike her again, but before he could deliver the blow something hard struck the top of his head.
"Ow! Wha…?"
"You get off her, you animal," Aunt Talitha raged.
"That's right," Iona added, delivering a blow with one of her crutches. "Git! Git your sorry carcass out of here. Right now, before we call the police."
The two old ladies pummeled him, Aunt Talitha with her cane and Iona with her crutch.
"All right, all right," Wyatt yelled, scrambling off the sofa. "I'm going. I'm going. Stop it. Ow! Ow! Knock it off, dammit," he ordered, but the blows kept coming as the two women followed him to the door, meting out punishment.