by Lisa Jackson
“And crooked.” She saw the fury spark in his eyes and she forced control on her own anger. “Oh, Dustin. Why didn’t Ellery tell me?” she asked in a broken whisper. Her knees threatened to give way. She had been married to Ellery, loved him in her own way, and he had betrayed her trust.
“Hey, don’t get down on Ellery,” Dustin said as if reading her thoughts. “This all happened before he knew you, and he did a hell of a lot for you and your bum of a father. Where would you have been if Ellery hadn’t supported you, paid your way through college and then married you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But the lies—”
He touched her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look into his eyes. He felt her tremble with rage. “Look, it’s over and done with,” Dustin said, his eyes searching hers. “Ellery’s dead....” He lowered his head and would have kissed her if it hadn’t been for the question she had to ask.
“Is he, Dustin?” she demanded, pulling away from him and wrapping her arms protectively over her breasts.
Dustin was visibly stunned. “What kind of a question is that?”
“A legitimate worry, wouldn’t you say?”
“Tiffany, listen to what you’re saying!”
“How do I know that he isn’t alive and using that alias...Ethan Rivers...or another one for that matter, in Europe somewhere?” Her hands were shaking at her sides. “For all I know, he could be living in France or England or Ireland, racing horses, married to someone else.” She was rambling and she knew it, and she had to get hold of herself before she tipped her hand and gave her act away.
“I was there, Tiffany, at the accident. I saw Ellery....” His face went ashen and in that single moment of honesty, Tiffany believed her brother-in-law. “As hard as it is for you to accept, Ellery’s gone.”
Tiffany managed to square her shoulders, but tears pooled in her eyes before trickling down her face in a broken silvery path. “I didn’t really doubt it,” she admitted, brushing the unwanted tears aside. “But you’ve just told me some things that are a little hard to accept.”
Dustin glanced at his watch again and cursed. “Damn! I’ve got to go if I’m going to catch that plane.” He looked at her longingly once again, silently offering himself.
Tiffany shook her head and lifted it with renewed determination. Her eyes, when they met Dustin’s direct gaze, were cold.
“If you need me—”
“No. Journey’s End needs you,” she said. “The Florida Derby is next week.”
“You could come down,” he suggested without much hope.
“Not until I make sure that this little one—” Tiffany cocked her head in the direction of the inquisitive filly “—and her brothers and sisters are okay.”
With a reluctant sigh, he turned away. “I’ll call,” Dustin promised, wondering why the hell he cared. He had lots of women who would do anything he wanted, so why was he hung up on his brother’s wife?
“Good.”
With only a moment’s indecision, Dustin walked crisply out of the foaling shed, and Tiffany slumped against the wall in relief. Ellery was Ethan Rivers? Ellery had run off with Zane’s wife, Stasia? The woman who had been Ellery’s mistress when Tiffany was in college?
Tiffany’s head was throbbing with unanswered questions. “Oh, Zane,” she whispered brokenly. “What are you involved in?”
She was still going over the conversation with Dustin in her mind when Vance Geddes arrived to check the mare and foal. His brow knitted with worry as he started the examination, but the furrows slowly eased as he studied the frisky filly.
“It looks like she’s going to make it,” he said, relief audible in his voice. “By the time Charlatan was this old, there were already signs of distress.”
“Thank God,” Tiffany murmured, her mind only half on the conversation. Where was Zane? Why did he want the farm? Why hadn’t he explained about Stasia and Ellery?
“Tiffany?” Vance asked for the second time.
“Oh, what?”
Vance shook his head and offered a small smile. “I said it looks as if we can take her out in a few days. I think you’ve got yourself a racehorse here.”
“Wonderful.” Tiffany eyed the little filly fondly. “Now we really do have a reason to celebrate.”
“Pardon?”
“I was hoping that you could join the rest of us for lunch...brunch—” she lifted her shoulders “—whatever you want to call it.”
“I’d be glad to. Just let me get cleaned up.”
“I’ll meet you at the house,” she said, leaving the foaling shed and instructing the stable boy to look after the mare and filly. She headed toward the house and didn’t notice the warm spring sunshine, the gentle breeze lifting the branches of the fir trees near the drive or the crocuses sprouting purple, gold, and white near the back porch.
All of her thoughts were centered on Zane and what, if anything, he wanted from her.
By the time Tiffany got back to the house, Louise was working furiously. The smell of honey-glazed ham, homemade apple muffins, black coffee and steamed vegetables filled the room. Louise was humming as she carefully arranged a rainbow of fresh fruit in a crystal bowl.
“It smells great in here,” Tiffany said as she walked into the kitchen and tried to shake off the feeling of impending dread that had settled on her shoulders during her discussion with Dustin. “What can I do to help?”
Louise smiled. “Nothing. All the work’s about done. Just go change your clothes. We’re eating on the sun porch.”
“Ummm. Fancy.”
“It’s a celebration, isn’t it?”
“That it is. Let me set the table—”
“Already done.”
“You are efficient, aren’t you?”
“I don’t get much of a chance to show off anymore. It feels good,” Louise admitted, holding up the clear bowl of fruit for Tiffany’s inspection. The cut crystal sparkled in the late morning light.
“Beautiful,” she murmured, and the housekeeper beamed. “If you’re sure there’s nothing I can do...”
“Scat! Will ya?” Louise instructed with a severe frown that broke down completely as she laughed.
Tiffany chuckled. “All right. I’ll be down in about twenty minutes.”
She walked toward the stairs and remembered the times she and Ellery had entertained. It had been often and grand. Louise had always enjoyed “putting out a spread” as she had called it. Ellery had insisted that entertaining potential buyers was all part of the business, and he had been at his best when dressed in a black tuxedo and contrasting burgundy cummerbund while balancing a glass of champagne between his long, well-manicured fingers.
It seemed like aeons ago. And all that time, while Tiffany was married to Ellery, he was probably leading a double life as a stranger named Ethan Rivers, and having an affair with Zane Sheridan’s ex-wife, Stasia.
Tiffany’s heart twisted painfully and she balled small fists in frustration. How could she have been so blind?
It would be easy to blame it on youth or naiveté, but the truth of the matter was that she had been so anxious to love someone and have him love her in return, she had closed her eyes to the possibility that her husband had been anything but what she had wanted to see.
Stop punishing yourself, she warned, as she slipped out of her clothes, rewound her hair onto her head and stepped into the shower. It’s over and done!
Or was it? Was Dustin telling the truth when he said that Ellery was dead, or was it just part of a complex cover-up to hide the fact that Devil’s Gambit was alive and that another horse and another man died in the fire? Oh, dear God, would Ellery have been involved in anything so vile as murder? The thought turned her blood to ice water and she had to steady herself against the wet tiles. A cold wave of nausea flooded over her, and Tiffany felt for a minute as if she were going to vomit.
“Oh, God,” she cried softly, forcing herself to stand.
No matter what else, she coul
dn’t—wouldn’t—believe that Ellery would take part in the death of another human being.
She turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a bath sheet without really thinking about what she was doing. With trembling fingers, while her head was still pounding with the cold truth of the past, she dressed in a bright dress of indigo polished silk, and pinned her hair in a tousled chignon. After touching up her makeup and forcing her morbid thoughts to a dark corner of her mind where she could examine them later, she started down the stairs. As she did, the doorbell chimed loudly.
“I’ll get it,” she called to Louise and hurred down the remaining three steps to the foyer and walked to the door, her heels echoing sharply against the imported tile.
Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door, expecting to find Mac’s wife, Emma McDougal. Instead, her eyes met the silvery gaze of the only man who had ever touched her soul.
“Zane,” Tiffany whispered, and felt the need to lean against the door for support. It had been more than a week since she had seen him, and in that time so many truths had been uncovered.
Now, as she looked at the man she loved, Tiffany felt as if she were staring into the eyes of a total stranger.
CHAPTER TEN
ZANE LEANED AGAINST one of the white columns supporting the roof of the porch and stared at Tiffany. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his jeans, and his slumped posture was meant to be casual, but his shoulder muscles were tight, so tense they ached.
God, she was beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered. Dressed in shimmering blue silk, with her golden brown hair pinned loosely to her crown, Tiffany looked almost regal. A single strand of gold encircled her throat, and thin layers of silk brushed against her knees.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Zane finally spoke. “Are you going out?” he asked, his gray eyes delving into hers. One look at Ellery Rhodes’s widow had destroyed all of Zane’s earlier promises to himself. After the meeting with Griffith just three days ago, he had silently vowed that he would stay away from Ellery Rhodes’s widow. Now, as he gazed into her intriguing blue eyes, he knew that keeping away from her would be impossible. Despite all the excuses he’d made to himself to the contrary, seeing Tiffany again was the single reason he had returned to Rhodes Breeding Farm.
Tiffany, recovering from the shock of seeing him again, managed to square her shoulders and proudly hold his gaze. Though her heartbeat had quickened at the sight of him, she forced herself to remember Dustin’s condemning words. Sheridan’s got a reputation for being ruthless.... Ellery was involved with Zane Sheridan’s wife.
“No,” she finally replied, “I’m not going out.... We’re having a special lunch, sort of a celebration.”
Zane detected new doubts in her exotic blue eyes, doubts that hadn’t clouded her gaze when he had last seen her. The small hairs on the back of his neck prickled in warning. Something was wrong here, and he intended to find out what it was. Silently he cursed himself for staying away so long. In the course of the past week, someone had destroyed all the trust Tiffany had previously felt for him. It didn’t take long to figure out who was to blame, and his fists balled at the thought of Dustin Rhodes.
Zane straightened and walked closer to her. “Tiffany, what’s wrong?” he asked, gently placing his fingers on her shoulders and pulling her close.
“Don’t,” she whispered, knowing that her battle was already lost. She wanted to melt into him. Just seeing him again had been enough to make her heartbeat race in anticipation. Maybe Dustin had been wrong about Zane, maybe he had lied.
She leaned heavily on Zane, letting his strong arms wrap around her. Her face was pressed to his chest, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her hair, hear the even rhythm of his pounding heart.
Don’t fall under his spell again, a small voice inside her cautioned. Remember what Dustin said about Ellery and Zane’s wife. He’s probably here just to get information about Stasia. He’s been using you all along.
“Tiffany?” Zane urged, his voice low, husky. She closed her eyes and let his earthy scent fill her nostrils. It felt so right to have his arms around her. Without examining her motives, she clung to him as if she expected him to vanish as quickly as he had appeared.
“I...I didn’t think you were coming back,” she whispered, ignoring the doubts filling her mind. He was here, now, with her. Nothing else mattered.
“I said I would.”
“But it’s been—”
“Too long.” The corded arms tightened around her, and his warm hands splayed against the small of her back, pressing her body to his and heating her skin through the thin material of her dress. “I should have called,” he admitted, feeling his body beginning to respond to the soft, yielding contour of hers, “but I’ve been in and out of airports for the better part of a week.”
She lifted her head and studied the weariness in his face. Wherever he’d been, the trip had taken its toll on him. The brackets near the corners of his mouth had deepened, and there was a general look of fatigue in his eyes. His clothes, a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt, were clean but slightly rumpled, and his chin was just beginning to darken from the day’s growth of beard.
“Have you been out of the country?” she asked.
“Part of the time.”
Because of Devil’s Gambit, or your wife?
Tiffany knew that she should pull away from him, now, before she was lost to him forever. She shouldn’t let him into her house or her life. Not again. Too many events in his past were entangled with Ellery’s life and left unexplained. There were too many questions that demanded answers....
For a passing moment she considered confronting him with what she had learned from Dustin, just to gauge his reaction, but she couldn’t. The sight of his drawn face, windblown black hair and slightly wrinkled clothing did strange things to her heart. Despite all of Dustin’s accusations, despite the lies, she still loved this rugged man from Ireland with every fiber of her soul.
“Come inside,” she invited, managing, despite her doubts, the trace of a smile. “Louise is making a special brunch.”
“Why?” Zane’s dark brows cocked expressively. He was getting mixed signals from Tiffany; one moment she seemed to have a wonderful secret she wanted to share with him, and her indigo eyes sparkled; the next second her smile would fade and her lips would compress into a determined line of defiance.
“Alexander’s Lady had a filly—a healthy filly,” Tiffany said, pushing her dark thoughts aside.
Zane relaxed a little, and he gently touched her cheek. She had to concentrate to keep her mind on the conversation. “I assume from your expression that she had been bred to Moon Shadow.”
“Yes.” Tiffany attempted to extract herself from his embrace, to put some mind-clearing distance between his body and hers, but his strong arms refused to release her.
“When was the filly born?”
“Just last night.”
“Isn’t the celebration a little premature?” he asked softly, remembering the other colt, the one that had lived a day or so before collapsing from heart failure and dying.
“Maybe, but I doubt it. Vance thinks the filly will live,” Tiffany said with conviction. She recognized the unspoken question in Zane’s eyes and knew that he was thinking about Charlatan’s short life. “Vance wasn’t so sure last night,” she admitted, “but this morning the filly’s been scampering around her stall like a champion. Even Vance has taken her off the critical list.”
Zane hazarded a charming half-smile that touched Tiffany’s heart. “That is good news.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and Tiffany’s heart seemed to miss a beat. How could she react this way, love this man, when he had lied to her?
“And there’s more,” she managed to say. “Hal Reece called and told me that his mare, Mile High, gave birth to twin colts—healthy colts, about three days ago. He’s even been able to insure them.”
Zane’s grin spread slowly over his rugged features. He squ
eezed her for a minute and laughed. God, when was the last time he’d laughed? It had to have been years ago.... It was so easy with Tiffany, so natural. “You’re right, you should celebrate.”
Tiffany’s eyes warmed. “Louise would love it if you joined us.”
“Us?”
“Mac and his wife, Emma, Vance, Louise and myself.” She read the hesitation in his gaze and realized that he felt like an outsider. Her elegant features sobered. “It’s not a private party, Zane,” she said softly with a seductive smile, “and you’re very much a part of it. After all, you were here the night Ebony Wine delivered. Besides, Louise would skin me alive if she knew you were here and wouldn’t have brunch with us after all the work she’s gone to.”
“Then how can I refuse?”
“You can’t.”
She pulled away from him, but his fingers caught her wrist. “Tiffany?”
“What?”
When she turned to face him, he tugged on her arm again and pulled her close against his body. “Just one more thing.”
“Which is?” she asked breathlessly.
In answer, he lowered his head and his lips brushed seductively over hers. His breath was warm and inviting, his silvery eyes dark with sudden passion. “I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth, then his lips claimed hers in a kiss that was as savage as it was gentle. The warmth of his lips coupled with the feel of his slightly beard-roughened face made her warm with desire.
Tiffany moaned and leaned against him, letting her body feel the hard texture of his. His tongue gently parted her lips and flickered erotically against hers. Heat began to coil within her before he pulled his head away and gazed at her through stormy gray eyes.
“God, I missed you,” he repeated, shaking his head as if in wonder at the conflicting emotions warring within his soul.
Tiffany had to clear her throat. “Come on. Louise will have my head if her meal gets cold.” Still holding his hand, she led him toward the back of the house and tried to forget that Zane had once been married to Ellery’s mistress.
