by Day Leclaire
The water cooled and she hastened to turn it off. She’d wasted enough time. It wasn’t in her nature to hide and she wouldn’t start now. She’d made a choice last night and she’d face it without flinching. She spared a few minutes to dry her hair and touch up her face with the cosmetics that had been left for her use. She found her clothes from the previous day freshly laundered and folded on the bed. Even her Stetson had been cleaned and blocked. Five minutes later she emerged from the bedroom, ready to face Joc and anything he threw her way.
She found him nursing a cup of coffee, papers spread out on the table in front of him. He stood at her appearance and poured a second cup for her. “How do you take it?”
She gave him the standard Longhorn response. “Black as tar and thick as mud.”
That won her a smile. “I have the tar part down, but I’m afraid you’ll have to skip the mud and settle for thirty-weight oil.”
She returned his smile with one of her own, pleased they were back on a more casual footing. “Not quite as thick, but I’ll make do.”
“I’m about to head over to the office complex for my meeting.” He passed her the coffee. “I’d appreciate it if you’d join me.”
His offer caught her off guard. Despite the nonchalant manner in which he’d made the suggestion, she sensed a deeper purpose behind the invitation. She eyed him warily as she downed her coffee. “Just out of curiosity, why would you want me there?”
“I think you’ll find it…educational.”
She tilted her head to one side, a spark of annoyance flickering to life. “You think I’m in need of an education?”
“When it comes to this particular arena, it wouldn’t hurt.” He checked his watch. “We’ll be leaving for Dallas immediately after I’ve dissolved the partnership. I should have you home by midafternoon.”
Well, what had she expected? That he’d declare his undying love and fix all that had gone wrong in her life? It was a ridiculous dream, particularly when he’d been the one to cause most of her current problems. Besides, she’d been handling endless trials and tribulations for a full decade now. She didn’t need a man to rescue her when she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
He continued to wait for her response and she gave a brisk nod of her head, hoping she sounded relaxed and easygoing instead of utterly out of her depth. “Fine. I’m always open to new experiences.” Not that they’d ever compare to what she’d experienced last night. “I’d find it interesting to sit in on one of your meetings.”
As soon as they finished breakfast, they headed over to another rambling building almost identical to the cabaña on the outside, but which bore the undeniable stamp of a business complex once they stepped across the threshold. A secretary ushered them to the conference room, one that didn’t share any of the features or characteristics of its counterpart in Dallas.
Light and airy, it reflected the colors and qualities of the island. A plush white carpet the exact shade of the local sand stretched beneath her feet, while the walls were a rich aquamarine that perfectly matched the crystalline water of the lagoon she’d enjoyed the previous day. Instead of a long, rectangular conference table, this one was round, appealing and convivial. It was a room meant to soothe, to allay worry and concern and instill warmth and camaraderie. Or so she thought, right up until she saw the mosaic wolf motif that decorated the surface of the table.
Memories of her first confrontation with Joc came storming back. It made for a harsh transition from the lovemaking they’d shared the previous night to the hard, cold business venue of today. She’d had her romantic interlude. It was over. Bringing her here told her more clearly than words that they were back on a business footing. The time had come to switch gears. Fast.
She glanced around the room, noticing for the first time a group of five suits-and-ties. They stood bunched on one side of the room, helping themselves to coffee and pastries. They chatted in perfect accord, their ease with one another speaking of long acquaintance. So this was Joc’s childhood gang. Next to him, they looked normal, average even. They didn’t resonate with Joc’s unique power or brilliance. Or sexual chemistry. She wondered which one was Mick. She’d find out soon enough, considering he’d probably take the lead opposing Joc during the meeting.
Reluctantly her gaze switched to Joc and she tensed. He’d taken up a stance on the opposite side of the room. He leaned against a sideboard, his full attention focused on the men, while his eyes gleamed with hungry intent. Oh, man. They were clueless. Utterly clueless to their impending doom. They might as well have “Free Rabbit Meat, Bite Here” stamped on their backsides. And though Joc’s posture remained relaxed, she could see him gathering himself in preparation for the takedown. Even his features appeared different, the skin taut across his cheekbones, his mouth and jaw set at an angle that shouted a warning to those astute enough to listen.
Then Joc turned to look at her. To her consternation she realized the predator remained. Only now it prowled in her direction. His black eyes glittered with the intensity of it. A memory of the last time they’d made love dwelt there, an acknowledgment of how it had changed them, as well as a promise that soon—very soon—he’d deal with her, too. Where had her lover gone? she wondered in dismay. Or had that man been no more than an illusion?
He caught her stare and indicated a chair apart from the table. “Why don’t you sit there?”
“Out of the line of fire?”
He smiled at the dry tone. “Something like that.”
As soon as he had her settled, he crossed to the table and took a seat. The men took their time joining him. From their quick, sidelong glances Rosalyn knew it was a deliberate maneuver. What benefit they thought it gained—other than to tick Joc off—she couldn’t imagine. Or maybe that was the point. A subtle power move. “We may be on your turf,” they seemed to be saying, “but we’re in charge.” They had a lot to learn.
One by one they gathered at the table, still conversing among themselves. Next, they took their time arranging their papers. When they were through, a small stack rested before each man, while the expanse of table in front of Joc remained pristine.
“Well, Arnaud,” the leader of the group began. Mick, no doubt. “I think this may be the first time you’ve ever lost. If it makes you feel any better, at least it’ll be some of your oldest friends who take you down.”
Rosalyn flinched. Was that how she’d sounded when she’d confronted Joc? Was this how she’d appeared, like these foolish rabbits, intent on tweaking the nose of Mr. Big Bad? Heaven help them. And heaven help her.
Joc leaned back in his chair. “What exactly is it I’m about to lose, Mick?” he asked, confirming his opponent’s identity.
The men exchanged quick grins. “Isla de los Deseos,” Mick said. “We’ve voted and it’s unanimous. We’ve cut you a check for your share of the partnership. It’s nowhere near the value the island will have once we’re done developing it, but it is what the agreement calls for.”
To Rosalyn’s amazement, Joc didn’t appear upset by the news. If anything, he seemed…amused. “I assume this is because I wouldn’t agree to your plans?”
“We’ve tried to explain countless times,” Mick said. “This place is a gold mine. All we have to do is mine it.”
“You mean cover it from end to end with resorts.”
“Exactly.” A hint of resentment crept into Mick’s voice. “You have all the money you could ever want. What’s wrong with some of your old gang getting our fair share? It’s just one island.”
“And the indigenous life?”
“There are other islands. Let them find one of those.”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids, Mick.”
Rosalyn caught an odd quality in Joc’s voice. A containment that she recognized because she used that same tone whenever she tried to hide her own pain. It took every ounce of self-possession to remain seated and keep her emotions in check when what she really wanted to do was leap from he
r chair and rush to Joc’s side. To throw her arms around him and offer some form of comfort.
“You’d end our friendship over money?” Joc continued. “Or should I say, over more money?”
Mick stared at Joc as though he’d lost his mind.
“Hell, yes. Since we need a unanimous vote to develop the island any further, and we can’t get a unanimous vote without ousting you…” He tapped the stack of papers in front of him. “You see our dilemma.”
“This partnership deal was supposed to help you get back on your feet. All of you.”
Mick’s hands collapsed into fists. “And now that we’re on our feet, we want more. You should understand that. That need for more is what’s driven you all these years. You can’t deny that.”
Joc didn’t argue the point. “You do realize I crafted our partnership deal with great care,” he said instead.
Mick shook his head. “Not enough care, Joc. You left a clause in there where we could buy you out.” He shrugged. “Guess you were feeling altruistic since we were all friends.”
“I wouldn’t call it altruistic, or even generous. It was more along the lines of…curiosity.”
Rosalyn closed her eyes. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew where Joc was going with this. From everything he’d said, he’d been taught at an early age to distrust, even those closest to him. How must it feel to have that distrust confirmed, and all because of money?
Mick leaned back in his chair, attempting to school his face to patience. “What were you curious about?” He didn’t really care about Joc’s answer, that much was clear. “What could make you so curious you’d be willing to go into a partnership deal with us, particularly one that gave us the upper hand?”
“I was curious to see if you’d screw me over. And you’ve answered that question.”
A hint of red crept into Mick’s face. “Glad to help,” he growled. “Now let’s get this over with.”
“Yes, let’s. I’ve arranged for the five of you to leave the island within the hour.”
“You don’t own the island anymore, Arnaud.” Apprehension bled into Mick’s fury, giving it a strident edge. “We voted. You’re out.”
“Read the partnership agreement more carefully. Hire a lawyer.” Joc’s gaze shifted down the line of men to the smallest one at the far end. “A real lawyer who specializes in corporate law and partnership agreements rather than hit-and-run cases. He’ll be able to point out this small clause I buried in our contract. One you’ll find impossible to break. If you vote to remove me as a partner and it’s unanimous, I reserve the right to buy out your shares.” He checked his watch. “I have better things to do with my time than find where the lawyers put it, but it’s there somewhere. Now, if we’re through here?”
All four turned to confront the man at the end, the one Rosalyn assumed was the lawyer who specialized in hit-and-run cases. He shrank in his seat. “I didn’t see anything,” he mumbled. “MacKenzie never said—”
It was as though the air had been sucked from the room. “MacKenzie?” Joc repeated sharply. “She’s involved in this? How?”
No one said a word. The men’s gazes dropped to the papers in front of them and stayed there. Rosalyn watched Joc struggle with his fury, gather it up and tuck it away behind a growing wall of disillusionment. Once he’d regained his self-control, he addressed the five.
“One more thing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t going to enforce the second half of that clause I inserted in our contract. But now that I know that MacKenzie’s involved in what you’re trying to pull, and that you betrayed me by going along with her plan, I’ve changed my mind. Not only do I have the right to buy out your shares, but it’s at the original buy-in price. None of you will see one dime of profit from this place.”
“What the hell—”
Joc shoved back his chair and stood. “Trying to stage a coup out of greed is one thing. I can almost understand that,” he bit out. “But you brought a Hollister into this. You allowed her to get to me through all of you. No one does that and profits from it.”
All hell broke loose after that. It took a full hour for the shouting to die down. The team of lawyers who swept in and gave an explanation of page, line and verse of the buried clause helped bring the disastrous meeting to a close. When it was over, there were no winners as far as Rosalyn could tell. The partners had lost their bid to take over Deseos. But Joc had lost something far more valuable—his friends. Worse, he’d lost the ability to trust, if he’d ever possessed that quality. She suspected he never had or he wouldn’t have buried that clause in the partnership agreement.
She realized something else. She’d been invited to witness that scene for a reason. It was Joc’s version of a warning. Cross me at your own risk. He didn’t lose. Nor did it matter who he took down—friend or foe, it was all the same to him. She’d been the one to insist the previous night remain outside the scope of their business relationship. Today, he proved that wouldn’t be a problem.
At least, not for him.
Six
The minute the meeting ended, Joc escorted her straight to the jet. She waited until they were aboard and in their seat with their seat belts fastened before speaking.
“I’m sorry, Joc,” she said.
“For what?” But he knew. She could see the bleakness of that knowledge gathering in his eyes.
“Is there anyone in your life you can trust?”
He hesitated before shrugging. “My sister, Ana.”
“Ana. The one who lives in Verdonia. How often do you get to see her?”
His expression remained impassive, but she caught the flicker of pain before it vanished behind a facade of indifference. “Whenever I feel like flying out there.”
Her heart went out to him. “You’re all alone now, aren’t you? Instead of having Ana in your corner, she’s moved thousands of miles away. She’s married to a prince and has a fabulous life. One you aren’t part of. It isn’t the two of you against the world, anymore, is it?”
“Don’t.”
He spoke just that one word, but it told her more about him than anything he’d said until this point. Anguish bled through his voice, as well as an immeasurable loneliness. He had no one. He’d cut himself off from personal connections, all because he couldn’t trust. She grieved for him, grieved for all he lacked in his life. He’d chosen that path of solitude, whereas it had been thrust on her. Even so, she had friends and neighbors and ranch hands, not to mention Claire. Until last year she’d also had her grandmother. But the main difference between them was that she trusted each and every one of those she’d included in her life. They were as close to her as family.
“We have a problem, Joc. And I don’t see an easy solution to it.”
He fixed her with his dark gaze, throwing up barriers so high and dense that she didn’t have a hope of penetrating them. “What problem?”
“If I’m pregnant, you’re going to have to let me in. And if not me, you’ll need to open yourself up to our child. Otherwise, how will his relationship with you be any different than your relationship with Boss?”
There was nothing left to say after that and Rosalyn closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. She wished she could nod off. She hadn’t slept much last night and she’d have to hit the ground running the instant she arrived in Dallas. She didn’t want to think about all the work that had accumulated while she’d been busy playing the role of billionaire’s mistress.
To her surprise she did nod off at some point, waking with a soft moan to Joc’s distinctive touch. She wanted to blame the way she responded to him on being in that helpless realm between dreams and reality. But in truth, she leaned into him, softened against him, lifted her mouth for his possession for one reason and one reason only.
She wanted him still.
She wanted him on the most visceral level possible, a level that ignored logic and common sense. A primitive, physical level that demanded a taking she could no longer have
.
“Wake up, Red.” A gentleness slid through his words that confused her since she knew he wasn’t a gentle man. “We need to talk.”
Catching back another moan, she forced her eyes open. He crouched beside her seat, leaning in so close that all she had to do was bridge that scant inch gap and her mouth would meld with his. She moistened her lips and watched the darkness in his eyes ignite.
“Are we there?” she asked. The words had a sleep-roughened edge, one that seemed to affect him all the more. “I can’t believe I slept again.”
“We just landed.” A swift smile softened the harsh contours of his face, an intimate, revealing smile. Then the mask slammed back into place and he was the Joc from the boardroom once more. “We need to talk,” he repeated.
She levered her seat upright, forcing him to shift back. To her relief, it gave her more breathing room. “What do we need to talk about?” she asked. As if she didn’t know.
“I’m going to leave instructions with Maggie, my personal assistant, to put you through anytime you call. Don’t hesitate to make that call if you need me. For anything.”
“Including an unexpected pregnancy?”
His mouth kicked to one side. “Especially that.”
There wasn’t time to speak after that. The plane door opened to glaring Dallas sunshine and sweltering humidity. Nearby two vehicles sat idling, a familiar-looking limo and a private car. Five minutes later found Rosalyn settled in the car, battered Stetson in hand. Joc leaned in, his smoldering gaze resting first on her face before sliding pointedly to her abdomen. And then he shocked her by taking her mouth in a kiss as hungry and passionate as any she’d received during their night together.
“I’ll be expecting your call,” he said. And then he left her and crossed to his limo.
Tears pricked Rosalyn’s eyes as she watched him drive away. What was wrong with her? She should be delighted to have him out of her life. She didn’t need the complications he represented. And she sure as hell didn’t need any more on her plate—such as the unplanned advent of a child.