"Because you needed the inside information in order to beat Moorcroft to Spencer."
"That's a lot of horse manure," he told her roughly. "I didn't tell you to shut up about your work because I'd have lost you if I had. If it makes you feel any better, you can rest assured I had all the information I needed to beat Moorcroft to the punch from other sources. Nothing you told me made any difference in my plans."
"Oh, Rafe."
"You want the flat honest truth? Moorcroft's the one who got the advantage out of our relationship. You ran to him that morning and warned him I was after Spencer. Thanks to you, he was able to move his timetable ahead fast enough to knock me out of the running. I was the one who lost out because I was sleeping with a woman who felt her first loyalty belonged to another man."
Margaret looked up at him appealingly, longing to believe him and knowing she should not. "Rafe, is that the full truth? Really? You didn't use any of the information I accidently gave you?"
His mouth twisted ruefully. "It's the truth, all right. If you'd known everything in the beginning, you'd have assumed I'd started dating you because of your connection to Moorcroft and you'd have backed right off. Don't try to deny it. I know you. That's exactly how your brain would have worked—exactly how it did work when you finally discovered who I was."
Margaret felt cornered again. He was right. She would have been instantly suspicious of his motives if she'd known who he was back at the beginning. "And you really didn't need inside information from me?"
"I already had most of it. Nothing you told me was particularly crucial one way or the other. In fact, if you'll stop and think about it, you'll recall that you didn't talk all that much about your job. You mostly talked about the career in writing that you were working on. I heard all your big plans to work two more years in the business world and then quit to write full-time."
"I wish I could believe that." She clasped her hands in front of her, remembering her terrible feeling of guilt at the time. "I felt like such a fool. I felt so used. I went over and over every conversation we'd had, trying to recall exactly what I'd told you. I knew I had to go straight to Moorcroft, of course. He had trusted me. I had to make up for what I'd done to him."
"You didn't do one blasted thing to him," Rafe roared. "I was the one you screwed."
She frowned in annoyance. "You don't have to be quite so crude about it."
He spread his hands in a disgusted movement and made an obvious grab for his self-control. "Forget it. I'm sorry I mentioned my side of the story. I know you aren't particularly interested in it. You're only concerned with your side."
Tears welled in Margaret's eyes. She blinked them back as she sank down onto a bale of hay and tried to think. "It was such an awful mess at the time," she whispered. "And when I tried to do the right thing by warning Moorcroft about you, you turned on me like a…a lion or something. All teeth and claws. The things you said to me… You ripped me to shreds, Rafe. I wasn't certain for a while if I was ever going to recover."
"You weren't the only one who felt ripped up." Rafe sat down beside her, elbows resting on his knees, his big hands loosely clasped. He stared straight ahead at a pretty little gray mare who was watching the proceedings with grave curiosity. "I wasn't sure I was going to make it, either." He paused for a moment. "My mother says it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me."
"She said what?"
"She said I needed a jolt like that to make me pay attention to something else in life besides business." His smile was ironic. "Believe me, after what happened last year, you had my full attention. I couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard I tried. I've put more energy into getting you back than I've ever put into a merger or a buy-out."
Margaret thought she really would cry now. "Rafe, I don't know what to say."
He turned his head, his eyes glittering with intensity. "Say you'll give me a chance, a real chance. Let's start over, Maggie. For good this time. Give me the next two weeks and be honest about it. Don't spend the time looking for excuses and a way out."
The love for him that she had been forced to acknowledge to herself last night made Margaret lightheaded. She looked into his tawny eyes and felt herself falling back into the whirlpool in which she had nearly drowned last year. "You are a very dangerous man for me, Rafe. I can't go through what I went through last time. I can't."
He caught her chin on the edge of his hand. "You're not the only one who wouldn't survive it a second time. So there won't be a second time."
She searched his eyes. "How can you be so certain?"
"Two reasons. The first is that we learned something from that fiasco. We've both changed. We aren't quite the same people we were last year."
"And the second reason?"
He smiled faintly. "You aren't working for Moorcroft or anyone else, so the pressures you had on you last time don't exist."
"But if they did exist?"
Rafe's smile hardened briefly. "This time around your commitments are clearer, aren't they? This time around you'd know your first loyalty belongs to me."
"What about your loyalty?" she challenged softly, knowing she was sliding deeper into the whirlpool. In another moment she would be caught and trapped.
Rafe cradled her face between two rough palms. "You are the most important person in my life, Maggie, love. My first loyalty is to you."
"Business has absolutely nothing to do with this?"
"Hell, no."
"If there were to be a conflict between our relationship and your business interests, would our relationship win?"
"Hands down."
Her fingers tightened around his wrists. Everything in her wanted to believe him. Margaret knew her future was at stake. If she had any sense she would get out while she still could.
"Rafe…"
"Say it, Maggie. Say you'll stay here and give me a real chance."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "All right."
He groaned and pulled her close against him, his arms locking around her. His mouth moved against her sleekly knotted hair. "You won't regret it, Maggie. This time it will work. You'll see. I'll make it work. I've missed you so much, sweetheart. Last night…"
"What about last night?" she asked softly.
"Last night was like taking the first glass of cool water after walking out of the desert. Except that you're never cool in bed. You're hotter than the sun in August. Lord, Maggie, last night was good."
She hugged him, her head resting on his chest. "Yes."
"Maggie?"
"Um?"
"You said a few minutes ago that I'd never asked for forgiveness because I was too arrogant to think I needed it. But I'm asking for it now. I'm sorry I was so rough with you last year."
She took a breath. It was probably as much of an apology as she was likely to get. "All right, Rafe. And I'm sorry I assumed you'd been using me to beat Moorcroft. I should have known better."
"Hush, love. It's all right." His hands stroked her back soothingly. "We'll make this a fresh start. No more talk about the past."
"Agreed."
For a long while they sat on the bale of hay, saying nothing. If anyone came or went in the barn, Margaret didn't notice. She was conscious only of the feel of Rafe's hands moving gently on her. With a deep sigh of newly found peace, she gave herself up to the luxury of once more being able to nestle in Rafe's strong arms. A fresh start.
For the first time in a year something that had felt twisted and broken deep inside her relaxed and became whole again.
"Boss?" Tom's shout from the far end of the barn had a trace of embarrassed hesitation in it. "Hatcher's here. Says he needs to talk to you."
Rafe slowly released Margaret. "Tell him I'll be there in a minute."
"Right."
Rafe looked down at Margaret, his expression rueful. "Sorry about this. Hatcher's timing isn't always the best. Want to come say hello to him?"
"Okay. But he probably doesn't want to
say hello to me."
"Maggie, love, you're getting paranoid. You thought my mother wouldn't want to see you again, either, but she could hardly wait for you to get down here, right? Don't worry about Hatcher's opinion. He works for me and he does what I say."
Shaking her head, Margaret let Rafe tug her to her feet. He draped an arm possessively around her shoulders and guided her out of the barn. She blinked as she stepped out into the hot sunlight. There was an unfamiliar car in the drive.
Doug Hatcher was already standing in the doorway of Rafe's home, a briefcase in one hand. Rafe's chief executive assistant looked very much as Margaret remembered him from the occasions he had accompanied his fast-moving boss to Seattle.
Hatcher was in his early thirties, a thin, sharp-faced man with pale eyes. He was dressed in a light-colored business suit, his tie knotted crisply in defiance of the heat. He did not seem surprised to see Margaret coming out of the barn with his boss.
"Good morning, Miss Lark." Hatcher inclined his head politely. "Nice to see you again."
"Thank you, Doug." She knew he was lying through his teeth. The poor man was no doubt struggling mightily to maintain a polite facade. There was little chance he was actually glad to see her. Hatcher was fiercely loyal to Rafe and he probably blamed her for the collapse of the Spencer deal last year. She was not at all certain his opinion of her would have changed just because Rafe ordered him to change it.
Then, again, when Rafe gave orders, people tended to obey.
"What's up, Hatcher?" Rafe asked easily. "I'm on vacation, remember?"
"Yes, sir." Hatcher indicated the briefcase. "I just need to update you on a couple of things. You said you wanted to keep close track of the Ellington deal. There have been a couple of recent developments I felt you should know about. I also have some figures to show you."
Rafe released Maggie abruptly. His good mood seemed to have suddenly evaporated. She recognized the signs instantly. She could almost feel him shifting gears into what she always thought of as his "business alert" mode. He was fully capable of remaining in it for hours, even days, on end. When he was caught up in it nothing else mattered to him. He brooked no distractions, not even from the woman he was currently bedding.
"Right," Rafe said. "Let's go inside and take care of it. Maggie, why don't you take a swim or something?"
Her first reaction was a rush of anger. Same old Rafe. As soon as business reared its ugly head, he was like a hunter who had caught the scent of prey. He was already dismissing her while he took care of more important things.
Then she looked at his face and saw the tension in him. He knew what she was thinking. The fact that her incipient disapproval had gotten through to him was something, she told herself. Last year he wouldn't have even noticed.
"I don't really feel like a swim, Rafe."
"Honey, this won't take long, I swear it. I guarantee I've developed some new ways of working lately but I can't just let go of everything, you know that. I'm still responsible for my family, the ranch and a heck of a lot of jobs at Cassidy and Company. Be reasonable."
She relaxed slightly as she saw the expression in his eyes. "I know, Rafe. It's all right. I understand. I think I will have that swim, after all." Of course he couldn't let go of everything. She didn't expect him to abandon his business altogether. She just wanted him to learn to put things in perspective. He was trying, she realized. And that was the first step.
Rafe nodded once, looking vastly relieved. "Thanks. Let's go, Hatcher. I want to get this over with as fast as possible. I've got other things to do today. More interesting things."
"Yes, sir."
Margaret preceded both men into the house and was turning to go down the hall to her bedroom when Bev Cassidy came through the patio doors. Connor Lark was right behind her. They both looked anxiously first at Margaret and then at Rafe.
"You two get this marriage business settled?" Connor demanded aggressively. "Bev and I aren't takin' off for Sedona day after tomorrow the way we planned if you two haven't worked this out."
"Don't worry, Connor. Everything's under control," Rafe said mildly.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure," Rafe said.
"About time."
"Yeah. You can say that again." Rafe started toward the study he used as an office. "I need to spend a few minutes with Hatcher. Maggie's going swimming, aren't you, Maggie?"
"Looks like it," said Maggie.
Bev brightened. "I've got another idea, if you're interested, Margaret?"
"What's that?" Margaret smiled.
"How would you like to go shopping? I thought you might want to buy something to wear to the engagement party tomorrow evening."
Margaret reeled. Her eyes widened in shock as she whirled to glare at Rafe. "Engagement party. Now, just hold on one minute, here, I've never said anything about getting officially engaged. Don't you dare try to rush me like this, Rafe. Do you hear me? I won't stand for it."
Hatcher, Conner and Bev looked at each other in obvious embarrassment. But there was a suspiciously humorous glint in Rafe's eyes when he said very gently, "Mom is talking about the engagement party she and Connor are giving tomorrow night to celebrate their engagement. Not ours."
"I'm so sorry, dear," Bev said quickly. "In all the excitement of your arrival yesterday, I forgot to mention it. We're having a few friends over to celebrate tomorrow evening. The next day Connor and I are going to take a little trip."
Margaret learned the meaning of wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. "Oh," she said, flushing a bright pink. She turned to Bev. "Shopping sounds like a wonderful idea. I haven't a thing to wear."
6
« ^ »
Margaret paused at the edge of the pool, glanced around quickly at the patio full of well-dressed guests and realized she was alone at last. When she spotted her father disappearing into the house by himself she decided to take advantage of the situation. She put down her empty hors d'oeuvres plate and hurried after him.
"Caught you, Dad." She grinned triumphantly at a startled Connor as he headed toward the kitchen.
"Maggie, my girl." Connor made an effort to look genuinely pleased to see her. "I was wonderin' how you were gettin' along. Enjoyin' yourself, girl? Bev sure knows how to throw a mighty fine party, doesn't she? One of the things I love about her. She knows how to have a good time. Wouldn't think it to look at her, but she's not a bit stuffy or prissy. Great sense of humor."
Margaret folded her arms and regarded her father with a sense of amusement mixed with exasperation. "Bev Cassidy appears to be an all-around wonderful person and I'm delighted the two of you are so happy together, but I didn't corner you in here to listen to a glowing litany of her attributes. You've been avoiding me since I got here, Dad. Admit it."
Connor appeared shocked and horrified at the accusation. "Avoidin' you? Not a chance, girl. How could you think such a thing? You're my own little Maggie, my only child, the fruit of my loins."
"Hold it, Dad."
"It's nothin' less than the truth. Hell's bells, girl, why would I want to avoid you? I'm delighted you got down here for my engagement shindig. A man's one and only child should definitely be present when he takes the great leap into marriage."
"That's arguable, depending on when the leap is made," Margaret said dryly. "But your impending nuptials, exciting as they may be, are not what I wanted to discuss."
"Maggie, girl, you know I'm always available to you. I'm your father. Your own flesh and blood. You can talk to me about anything."
"Terrific. That's just what I'd like to do. I have a little matter I've been wanting to discuss with you ever since I got here."
Connor brightened. "Wonderful. We'll have us a nice father-daughter chat one of these days just as soon as we both have a spare minute."
"I've got a spare minute right now."
"Well, shoot, too bad I don't." Connor's face twisted into a parody of sincere regret. "Promised Bev I'd get on the kitchen staff'
s tails. We're runnin' out of ice. Maybe sometime in the mornin'?"
"Rafe is going to take me riding in the morning, if you'll recall."
"Hey, that's right. I remember him sayin' somethin' about that earlier today. You haven't been ridin' for quite a while, have you? You used to be darn good at it. Don't worry about bein' out of practice. It's like bicyclin'. Once you get the hang of it, you never forget. Rafe's got some fine horses, doesn't he?"
"I'm sure Rafe's horses are all first class. They're a business investment and Rafe has excellent instincts when it comes to business investments. Dad, stop trying to sidetrack me. I want to talk to you."
Connor exhaled heavily, surrendering to the inevitable. He eyed Margaret warily. "More likely you want to chew me out for my part in Rafe's little plot. You still mad about that? I thought you and Rafe had settled things."
"Rafe and I have an ongoing dialogue about certain matters."
Conner wrinkled his nose. "Is that a fancy way of sayin' everything's settled?"
"It's a way of saying we're both reevaluating the situation and waiting to see how things develop."
"You know, Maggie, girl, for a woman who's made a career out of writin' romance novels, you sure do have an unexcitin' turn of phrase when it comes to describin' your own love life. Reevaluatin' the situation?"
Margaret smiled ruefully. "I guess it does sound a little tame. But the truth is, Dad, after last year I'm inclined to be cautious."
Connor nodded, his eyes hardening slightly. "Yeah, I can understand that. Hell, I was inclined toward a few things, myself, after I got wind of what happened."
"Like what?"
"Like murder. Damn near killed Cassidy at our first meetin' a few months back. Raked that boy over the coals somethin' fierce, I can tell you that."
"You did?" Margaret was startled. But, then, no one had seen fit to inform her of that meeting.
"Sure. You hadn't told me all that much about what had happened, remember? You just said it was over and Cassidy had said some nasty things there at the end. But I was mad as hell because I knew how much he'd hurt my girl."
The Cowboy Page 9
