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Texas Wild

Page 11

by Brenda Jackson


  Then, just as quickly as he’d begun, he pulled his mouth away. Drawing in a deep breath, she angled her head back to gaze up at him. “What was that for?”

  “No reason other than I want you.”

  “You told me. Several times,” she murmured, trying to get her heart to stop racing and her body to cease tingling. She glanced up at him—the elevator wasn’t that big and he was filling it, looking tall, dark and handsome as ever. He was looking her up and down, letting his gaze stroke over her as if it wouldn’t take much to strip her naked then and there.

  “And I intend to tell you several more times. I plan to keep reminding you every chance I get.”

  “Why?” Was it some power game he wanted to play? She was certain he had figured out that her experience with men was limited. She had all but told him it was, so what was he trying to prove? Was this just one of the ways he intended to carry out his fact-finding mission? If that was the case, then she might have to come up with a few techniques of her own.

  He pushed the button to restart the elevator, and she couldn’t help wondering just where her self-control was when she needed it.

  * * *

  Rico entered his hotel room alone and tossed his keys on the desk. Never before had he mixed business with pleasure, but he was doing so now without much thought. He shook his head. No, that wasn’t true, because he was giving it a lot of thought. And still none of it made much sense.

  He was about to pull off his jacket when his phone rang. He pulled his cell out of his jeans pocket and frowned when he recognized the number. Jeff Claiborne. Couldn’t the man understand plain English? He started to let the call go to voice mail but impulsively decided not to.

  Rico clicked on the phone. “What part of do not call me back did you not understand?”

  “I need your help, Ricardo.”

  Rico gritted his teeth. “My help? The last thing you’ll get from me is my help.”

  “But if I don’t get it, I could die. They’ve threatened to kill me.”

  Rico heard the desperation in his father’s voice. “Who are they?”

  “A guy I owe a gambling debt. Morris Cotton.”

  Rico released an expletive. His grandfather had told Rico a few years ago that he’d heard Jeff Claiborne was into some pretty shady stuff. “Sounds like you have a problem. And I give a damn, why? And please don’t say because you’re my father.”

  There was a pause. “Because I’m a human being who needs help.”

  Rico tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “You say you’re in trouble? Your life is threatened?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then go to the police.”

  “Don’t you understand? I can’t go to the police. They will kill me unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “I come up with one hundred thousand dollars.”

  Rico’s blood boiled with rage. “And you thought you could call the son and daughter you hadn’t talked to in close to eighteen years to bail you out? Trust me, there’s no love lost here.”

  “You can’t say I wasn’t a good father!”

  “You honestly think that I can’t? You were an imposter, living two lives, and in the end an innocent woman took her life because of you.”

  “I didn’t force her to take those pills.”

  Rico couldn’t believe that even after all this time his father was still making excuses and refusing to take ownership of his actions. “Let me say this once again. You won’t get a penny out of me, Jessica or Savannah. We don’t owe you a penny. You need money, work for it.”

  “Work? How am I supposed to work for that much money?”

  “You used to be a salesman, so I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  “I’ll call your mother. I heard she remarried, and the man is loaded. Maybe she—”

  “I wouldn’t advise you to do that,” Rico interrupted to warn him. “She’s not the woman you made a fool of years ago.”

  “She was my only wife.”

  “Yes, but what about Jessica’s mother and the lies you told to her? What about how she ended her life because of you?”

  There was a pause and then… “I loved them both.”

  Not for the first time, Rico thought his father was truly pitiful. “No, you were greedy as hell and used them both. They were good women, and they suffered because of you.”

  There was another pause. “Think about helping me, Ricardo.”

  “There’s nothing to think about. Don’t call me back.” Rico clicked off the phone and released a deep breath. He then called a friend who happened to be a high-ranking detective in the NYPD.

  “Stuart Dunn.”

  “Stuart, this is Rico. I want you to check out something for me.”

  A short while later Rico had showered and re-dressed, putting on khakis instead of jeans and a Western-style shirt he had picked up during his first day in Forbes. He knew one surefire way to get information from shop owners was to be a buying customer. Most of the people he’d talked to in town had been too young to remember Clarice. But he had gone over to the Forbes Daily Times to do a little research, since the town hadn’t yet digitally archived their oldest records.

  Unfortunately, the day he’d gone to the paper’s office, he’d been told he would have to get the permission of the paper’s owner before he could view any documents from the year he wanted. He’d found that odd, but hadn’t put up an argument. His mind had been too centered on heading to Austin to get Megan.

  Now that he had her—and right next door—he could think of a number of things he wanted to do with her, and, as far as he was concerned, every one of them was fair game. But would acting on those things be a smart move? After all, she was cousin-in-law to his sisters. But he had warned her, not once but several times. However, just to clear his mind of any guilt, he would try rattling her to the point where she might decide to leave. He would give her one last chance.

  And if that didn’t work, he would have no regrets, no guilty conscience and no being a nice, keep-your-hands-to-yourself kind of guy. He would look forward to putting his hands—his mouth, tongue, whatever he desired—all over her. And he desired plenty. He would mix work with pleasure in a way it had never been done before.

  Suddenly, his nostrils flared as he picked up her scent. Seconds later, there was a knock at his hotel room door. Amazing that he had actually smelled her through that hard oak. He’d discovered that Megan had an incredible scent that was exclusively hers.

  He crossed the room and opened the door. There she was, looking so beautiful he felt the reaction in his groin. She had showered and changed clothes, as well. Now she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pullover sweater. She looked spectacular.

  “I’m ready to go snooping.”

  He lifted a brow. “Snooping?”

  “Yes, I’m anxious to find out about Raphel, and you mentioned you were going back to the town’s newspaper office.”

  Yes, he had said that in way of conversation during their drive. He figured they had needed to switch their topic back to business or else he would have been tempted to pull to the side of the road and tear away at her mouth again.

  “I’m ready,” he said, stepping out into the hall and closing his hotel room door behind him. “I thought you would be taking a nap while I checked out things myself.”

  “I’m too excited to rest. Besides, I slept a lot in the car. Now I’m raring to go.”

  He saw she was. Her eyes wer
e bright, and he could see excitement written all over her face. “Just keep in mind that this is my investigation. If I come across something I think is of interest I might mention it or I might not.”

  She frowned up at him as they made their way toward the elevator. “Why wouldn’t you share anything you find with me?”

  Yes, why wouldn’t he? There was still that article Martin Felder had come across. Rico had been barely able to read it from the scan Martin had found on the internet, but what he’d read had made Rico come to Forbes himself to check out things.

  “That’s just the way I work, Megan. Take it or leave it. I don’t have to explain the way I operate to you as long as the results are what you paid me to get.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No buts.” He stopped walking, causing her to stop, as well. He placed a stern look on his face. “We either do things my way or you can stay here until I get back.” He could tell by the fire that lit her eyes at that moment that he’d succeeded in rattling her.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head back to glare up at him. “Fine, but your final report better be good.”

  He bent slowly and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Haven’t you figured out yet that everything about me is good?” he whispered huskily.

  “Arrogant ass.”

  He chuckled as he continued brushing kisses across her lips. “Hmm, I like it when you have a foul mouth.”

  She angrily pushed him away. “I think I’ll take the stairs.”

  He smiled. “And I think I’ll take you. Later.”

  She stormed off toward the door that led to the stairwell. He stared after her. “You’re really going to take the stairs?”

  “Watch me.” She threw the words over her shoulder.

  “I am watching you, and I’m rather enjoying the sight of that cute backside of yours right now.”

  She turned and stalked back over to him. The indignant look on her face indicated he might have pushed her too far. She came to a stop right in front of him and placed her hands on her hips. “You think you’re the only one who can do this?”

  He intentionally looked innocent. “Do what?”

  “Annoy the hell out of someone. Trust me, Rico. You don’t want to be around me when I am truly annoyed.”

  He had a feeling that he really wouldn’t. “Why are you getting annoyed about anything? I meant what I said about making love to you later.”

  She looked up at the ceiling and slowly counted to ten before returning her gaze back to him. “And you think that decision is all yours to make?”

  “No, it will be ours. By the time I finish with you, you’ll want it as much as I do. I guarantee it.”

  She shook her head, held up her hand and looked as if she was about to say something that would probably blister his ears. But she seemed to think better of wasting her time doing so, because she tightened her lips together and slowly backed up as if she was trying to retain her control. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” She’d all but snarled out the words.

  He watched her leave, taking the stairs.

  Rico rubbed his hand over his jaw. Megan had had a particular look in her eyes that set him on edge. She had every reason to be ticked off with him since he had intentionally pushed her buttons. And now he had a feeling she would make him pay.

  * * *

  The nerve of the man, Megan thought as she took the stairs down to the lobby. When she had decided to take this route she had forgotten that they were on the eighth floor. If she needed to blow off steam, this was certainly one way to do it.

  Rico had deliberately been a jerk, and he had never acted that way before. If she didn’t know better she would think it had been intentional. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she suddenly slowed her pace. Had it been intentional? Did he assume that if he was rude to her she would pack up and go running back to Denver?

  Well, if that’s what he thought, she had news for him. It wouldn’t happen. Now that she was here in Forbes, she intended to stay, and he would find out that two could play his game.

  Not surprisingly, he was waiting for her in the lobby when she finally made it down. Deciding to have it out with him, here and now, she walked over and stared up at him. “I’m ready to take you on, Rico Claiborne.”

  He smiled. “Think you can?”

  “I’m going to try.” She continued to hold his gaze, refusing to back down. She felt the hot, explosive chemistry igniting between them and knew he felt it, too.

  “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, Megan.”

  Oh, she knew, and if the other night was a sample, she was ready to let loose and let her hair down again. “Trust me, I know.”

  His smile was replaced with a frown. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They were on their way out the revolving doors when his cell phone rang. They stopped and he checked his caller ID, hoping it wasn’t Jeff Claiborne again, and answered it quickly when he saw it was Fanny Banks’s granddaughter returning his call. Moments later, after ending the call, he said to Megan, “Change in plans. We’ll go to the newspaper office later. That was Dorothy Banks, and her grandmother can see us now.”

  Eleven

  “Yes, may I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m Rico Claiborne and this is Megan Westmoreland. You were expecting us.”

  The woman, who appeared to be in her early fifties, smiled. “Yes, I’m Dorothy Banks, the one you spoke to on the phone. Please come in.”

  Rico stepped aside to let Megan enter before him and followed her over the threshold, admiring the huge home. “Nice place you have here.”

  If the house wasn’t a historical landmark of some sort then it should be. He figured it had to have been built in the early 1900s. The huge two-story Victorian sat on what appeared to be ten acres of land. The structure of the house included two huge columns, a wraparound porch with spindles, and leaded glass windows. More windows than he thought it needed, but if you were a person who liked seeing what was happening outside, then it would definitely work. The inside was just as impressive. The house seemed to have retained the original hardwood floors and inside walls. The furniture seemed to have been selected to complement the original era of the house. Because of all the windows, the room had a lot of light from the afternoon sunshine.

  “You mentioned something about Ms. Westmoreland being a descendant of Raphel Westmoreland?” the woman asked.

  “Yes. I’m helping her trace her family roots, and in our research, the name Clarice Riggins came up. The research indicated she was a close friend of Raphel. Since Ms. Banks was living in the area at the time, around the early nineteen hundreds, we thought that maybe we could question her to see if she recalls anyone by that name.”

  Dorothy smiled. “Well, I can tell you that, and the answer is yes. Clarice Riggins and my grandmother were childhood friends. Although Clarice died way before I was born, I remember Gramma Fanny speaking of her from time to time when she would share fond memories with us.”

  Megan had reached out and touched his hand. Rico could tell she had gotten excited at the thought that the Bankses knew something about Clarice.

  “But my grandmother is the one you should talk to,” Dorothy added.

  “We would love to,” Megan said excitedly. “Are you sure we won’t be disturbing her?

  The woman stood and waved her hand. “I’m positive. My grandmother likes talking about the past.” She chuckled. “I’ve heard most of it more times t
han I can count. I think she would really appreciate a new set of ears. Excuse me while I go get her. She’s sitting on the back porch. The highlight of her day is watching the sun go down.”

  “And you’re sure we won’t be disrupting her day?” Megan asked.

  “I’m positive. Although I’ve heard the name Clarice, I don’t recall hearing the name of Raphel Westmoreland before. Gramma Fanny will have to tell you if she has.”

  Megan turned enthusiastic eyes to Rico. “We might be finding out something at last.”

  “Possibly. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

  “Okay.” She glanced around. “This is a nice place. Big and spacious. I bet it’s the family home and has been around since the early nineteen hundreds.”

  “Those were my thoughts.”

  “It reminds me of our family home and—”

  Megan stopped talking when Dorothy returned, walking with an older woman using a cane. Both Megan and Rico stood. Fanny Banks was old, but she didn’t look a year past eighty. To think the woman had just celebrated her one-hundredth birthday was amazing.

  Introductions were made. Megan thought she might have been mistaken, but she swore she’d seen a hint of distress in Fanny’s gaze. Why? In an attempt to assure the woman, Megan took her hand and gently tightened her hold and said, “It’s an honor to meet you. Happy belated birthday. I can’t believe you’re a hundred. You are beautiful, Mrs. Banks.”

  Happiness beamed in Fanny Banks’s eyes. “Thank you. I understand you have questions for me. And call me Ms. Fanny. Mrs. Banks makes me feel old.”

  “All right,” Megan said, laughing at the teasing. She looked over at Rico and knew he would do a better job of explaining things than she would. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was trying to take over his job.

 

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