by Dee Davis
He took another sip, the scotch burning his throat as he looked out over his corner of Manhattan. He wasn’t a man to struggle with loss. Sometimes it was an inevitable part of the game. But Emily. Dear God—Emily. Everything he’d done had been to protect her. To keep her from the likes of Gideon Sloan and Tom Irwin.
Well, perhaps, if he were honest, he’d admit to making a slight misjudgment with Irwin. The bastard hadn’t deserved his daughter, after all. But Blake had taken steps to see that Irwin was stopped. And even if someone else had ultimately taken the son of a bitch out of play, it didn’t mean he hadn’t tried to protect Emily. Surely she could see that. Understand the lengths he was willing to go to protect her.
And yet she’d thrown him out. Chosen that lowlife Sloan instead. Despite everything he’d done for her—she’d rejected him.
Her own father.
He slammed the glass on the window sill, his heart twisting in unexpected pain. She was his daughter, for Christ’s sake. Where was her fucking loyalty?
"I came as soon as I got your message. Is Emily all right?"
Blake wheeled around to face Douglas Colburn. "She’s fine. But we need damage control. One of Sloan’s friends gave her the papers that proved the man’s innocence."
"And your guilt."
"Yes. Damn it. My guilt. Which is why we have to do something about it now."
"I take it things didn’t go well with Emily."
"She threw me out." He waved a hand and finished his drink. "A temporary setback. She’ll come to her senses. In the meantime, I need to be sure I’m bullet-proof. Sloan is likely to come at me hard, and not just for the past either. He knows I’m up to my eyeballs in this thing with Irwin, but he hasn’t got anything solid. I need for you to make sure that there’s nothing for him to find."
"There’s nothing. I made sure to cover our tracks as soon as I confirmed the fact that Irwin was dead. The worst Sloan can allege is that you had someone break into his house. And even that’s going to be difficult to prove now that there’s no chance of turning up the perpetrator."
"What did you do?" Blake snarled, feeling suddenly like everything was spinning out of control. He crossed to the liquor table and refilled his glass, taking the scotch in one swallow. "No. Never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know."
"Right." Colburn’s smile wasn’t at all genial. "Plausible deniability. You never were one to get your hands dirty."
"That’s what I have you for." Blake blew out a long breath, forcing a calm he didn’t feel. Everything was going to be all right. It had to be. There was too much riding on it. His life’s work. His daughter’s happiness. His empire had to be protected. No matter the cost.
"We may have another problem," Colburn said, dropping down into a wingchair, still nursing his drink.
Blake’s throat tightened. "Something more with Emily?"
"Maybe. But not directly. She was hauled into the police station today after she left the hospital."
"Shit. Why didn’t you call me?"
"There was nothing you could do. Better to stay out of it. Besides, she wasn’t in any danger. She was with Sloan."
Blake swallowed a retort. Colburn hadn’t meant it the way it sounded anyway. "So I take it she wasn’t arrested?"
"No. Detective Ceraso just wanted to question her. I don’t have details on everything they talked about. But my man on the inside says that there’s been no further talk about Sloan’s incarceration. Which means your daughter hasn’t truly turned on you."
"She’d never willingly put me at risk," he snapped, wishing to hell he believed it was true.
"Maybe not, but as you said, Sloan would."
"He hasn’t so far. And they let her go without arresting her. So what’s the problem?"
"Your brother."
"What has Vincent got to do with any of this?"
"Apparently, he’s in thick with Yuri Patanko. Some kind of deal they cooked up with Jesse Tyler to entrap the senator."
"Jesus Christ, my brother is as stupid as he is inept. If there’s a way to fuck something up he’ll find it. You’re saying that he had a part in what happened to Irwin and Emily?"
"The police seem to think so. As well as Sloan and his associates."
"Which means the greedy bastard could lead them all right back here to me. Do you know where he is?"
"No. That’s what worries me. He seems to have disappeared."
"And I take it you didn’t have any part in that?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Of course not. I wouldn’t move against family without your express permission. I simply meant he’s fallen off the grid."
"Probably hiding from the havoc he’s wreaked." Blake tilted back his head, his chest tightening with anger and frustration. "Keep looking. It’s better for everyone if we find him before Sloan or Patanko—especially if the latter is cleaning up loose ends."
"I’ve got my men on it. And in the meantime, do you want me to keep someone watching your daughter?"
"I do. And I don’t have to tell you that I’m trusting you with her safety. If anything happens to my daughter you can be certain that you’ll be the one who pays."
For a moment tension stretched between the two men—something almost akin to animosity—but then it was gone, and Colburn pushed to his feet. "No worries, boss, I’ve got things well in hand."
Blake swallowed the last of his scotch as he watched the man leave, considering the idea that perhaps Colburn had become more of a liability than an asset. Which meant he had yet another problem to eliminate.
CHAPTER 26
"WHAT THE HELL ARE you doing here?" Blake asked as Jules Clarke walked into the apartment. He’d only just shown Colburn out, and even though Jules had no idea what Colburn actually did for him, he still didn’t like the fact that she could have seen him here.
"I thought you might need me."
"Need you?" he asked, confused and not a little irritated. "Why?"
For a moment she seemed thrown, almost hurt, but almost before he could be sure, her expression cleared and she shrugged. "I figured it had been a rough day. I talked with Emily. I know what happened at the hospital."
Blake ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling tired beyond his years. "She’ll come around. She always does."
"Not this time," Jules said. "Now that she knows the truth, she feels betrayed. And rightly so."
"You don’t know anything about it," Blake snapped. "My relationship with my daughter is mine. Do you understand? And I don’t need your meddling."
"I just want to help you." She reached out to lay a hand on his arm but he jerked free.
"Believe me, there’s nothing you can do. Emily and I will sort this out. She’s my daughter. She loves me. She’s not going to let someone like Gideon Sloan stand in the way of our relationship." He hated the thread of doubt in his voice, knowing that she heard it too.
"Blake, maybe it’s time to accept that Emily isn’t the daughter you want her to be. That she is going to make her own choices. I mean, maybe she isn’t cut out to be the heir to the kingdom."
"And what, you’re angling for the position?" The woman was pushing things too far. Presuming a relationship she did not deserve. She was a hanger-on. Almost as bad as Gideon Sloan. Damn Emily and her strays.
"I’ve been far more loyal," Jules continued, clearly unaware of the bent of his thoughts. "I protected Vincent when Ceraso came sniffing around last year. And I’ve been watching out for Emily."
"Thwarting my attempts to control her is more likely. I know you’re the one who talked her out of a relationship with Irwin."
"Emily was never going to go along with that. And besides, in hindsight, you know that I was right. Marrying Irwin would have been disastrous." She met his gaze full-on and, though he didn’t particularly like her, he had to admit she had balls.
"I’ve admitted I was wrong about Irwin. But that doesn’t mean I’m not right about Sloan. The bastard is just going to drag her down. And I’ll be da
mned if I’m going to let him get his hands on my money."
"So what, you’re going to disown her?" The question was tinted with an emotion he wasn’t quite sure he recognized. No wonder he didn’t trust her.
Emily simply couldn’t see the truth when it was right in front of her eyes. People like Jules and Sloan were taking advantage of her. Milking her for whatever advantage they could gain.
"Of course not. I’ll never give up on my daughter. Never. She’s my heart. My soul. She’s everything. If I could just get her to listen to reason, I could make her see the truth. See Sloan for what he really is. I only want what’s best for her."
"As long as it’s couched in what’s best for you."
"Maybe," he admitted grudgingly. "But the truth is that what’s best for me is what’s best for her. She’s a Masterson. And blood is thicker than any attraction she might have for Gideon Sloan."
Jules’ jaw tightened as she studied him. "Even if I believe that, at the moment, Emily doesn’t want anything to do with you. And based on what happened this morning, coupled with the events of the past few days, I’d say she’s got more than her share of trouble. It must be killing you to have her turn away now."
"More than you can possibly know." He hadn’t meant to admit it—at least not to her, but his heart twisted when he thought of Emily in danger. In fact, he’d never felt so helpless. "If only she’d let me talk to her. But she’s not returning any of my calls."
"So like I said, maybe it’s time to let her go."
"No. That will never happen. Don’t you understand, Emily is my life."
"I see." Jules drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Blake could almost see the wheels turning in her head. "So what if I could facilitate a meeting?"
"Why would you do that? The two of us have never really seen eye to eye."
"Because I care about Emily. And I know deep down, that she cares for you."
Blake eyed her skeptically. "Yes, well, I certainly want to believe that. And while I’d like to believe in your altruism, I still can’t help but wonder what you hope to gain by helping me."
"The joy of seeing a father and daughter reunited?"
Blake bit back a bitter smile. "Come now, Jules. You don’t expect me to believe that. You always have an angle."
"I learned that from you."
He frowned, a thread of unease sliding up his spine. "I haven’t taught you anything. I’ve known you were a viper since the first time Emily dragged your sorry ass home with her."
Anger flashed in her eyes, but Blake didn’t care. All he wanted was for the woman to get her sanctimonious bullshit out of his apartment.
"Like recognizes like, Blake. And believe me when I say we have more in common than you’re willing to admit."
"It’s late, Jules. Just finish what you have to say and go."
She sucked in a breath, and for a moment he thought he’d pushed her too far. But then she forced a smile. "I’m here for Emily. She needs you. Whether she knows it or not. I’ve got a meeting with her tomorrow at ten. And I overheard Gideon telling her that he’s got to go in to his office in the morning."
"Even if he’s gone, she won’t see me."
"She will if I force her hand. The meeting is at her brownstone. All you have to do is show up. I’ll get you in. The guys watching over the place won’t question it if I tell them you’re part of my team."
"I’ll ask again. What’s in it for you?"
"What do you care? You want to see your daughter and I can make it happen. Maybe even pave the way so that she forgives you. Just write it off as something I’m doing for a friend."
"Nothing is ever for free, Jules."
"Maybe not." She shrugged again, her expression suddenly haunted by emotions he couldn’t possibly name. "But you and Emily deserve to be together. Two peas in a pod and all that. Facilitating a reconciliation is the least I can do."
"I don’t trust you, but I do need to talk to her without Sloan standing watch."
"So you’ll come to Emily’s?"
Blake had a feeling he was making a bargain with the devil. But hell, it wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. And truth be told, he’d do anything for Emily. Even get into bed with Jules Clarke.
"Yes," he said. "I’ll be there."
*****
"DID YOU MEAN WHAT you said to Jules?" Gideon asked, watching Emily over the top of his wineglass. The two of them were eating dinner at a table tucked into the corner of the living room.
"You mean about my making the wrong choices? Yes. I did. I’ve spent too much time blaming other people for the way my life has turned out. First you and then my father. It’s time I quit looking to others for what to think. I need to make my own decisions." She ate a fork full of Indian take-out, her expression apologetic.
"I can understand that, and in fact I applaud your courage, but that’s not what I’m asking."
She shook her head, clearly confused.
"I'm asking about the part where you told Jules you loved me. Or at least I assume I was the man you were speaking of." His gut tightened as he watched her digest the question, a slow blush washing across her bruised face.
"I didn’t say anything of the sort," she sputtered, still looking embarrassed. "Well, at least, I didn’t mean to say it like that." She stared down at her plate, then lifted her gaze, nervously chewing on the side of her lip.
It was everything he could do to keep from reaching for her across the table. But it was too easy to bury emotion in passion. And somehow this time around he needed something more.
"So you didn’t mean it?"
"No. Well, yes." She paused, looking down at her korma again. "It's just that it’s complicated."
"But it isn’t. Not really. Either you love me or you don’t."
For a moment silence stretched between them and he could hear his own heart pounding. Then she lifted her face, her lips quirking upward in a tentative smile.
"I...I do love you." The words were whispered so low he almost couldn’t hear them. "I suppose I never stopped." Her expression had turned defiant, and he couldn’t curtail his own smile.
"I’m glad to hear it," he said, "because I never stopped loving you either."
She laid down her fork, her heart reflected in the crystalline depths of her eyes. "So what do we do now? I mean, we can’t just whitewash the past. Regardless of our feelings, there’s no getting around the fact that we betrayed each other."
"Because of your father," he offered, knowing it wasn't enough.
"But if we’d loved one another as much as we say we do, we wouldn’t have let his manipulations make us doubt each other."
He released a slow breath and reached across the table for her hand. "We were both young. I let anger get in my way and you were determined to remain loyal to your father. I’m not sure it could have played out any other way, but that doesn’t change the way we feel. And we're older now. Stronger."
"And wiser?" She trailed off, her words turning into a question.
He caressed her palm. "I certainly hope so. I know I want another chance. If you’re willing."
"I want to say yes, but I barely survived losing you the first time." She pulled her hand free as she sat back in her chair, pain cresting in her eyes. "I’m not sure I can handle going through all of that again. I know it was mostly my fault, but it almost killed me."
"And you think it wasn’t hard for me?" He was surprised at the depth of his own anger.
She pushed to her feet, running a hand through her hair. From his basket in the corner, Bailey lifted his head and whined. "Of course I don’t believe that. I know how awful it must have been. I was the one who tried to get my father to back off, remember?"
He blew out a long breath. "Rehashing the past isn’t going to get us anywhere. What’s important isn’t where we’ve been but what we’ve learned along the way."
She nodded, chewing on her lip again, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his ar
ms and help them both forget the past.
"I want to move forward," she began, her voice trembling, "with you, but I don’t know how. Everything is so tangled up right now. For God’s sake, someone out there wants me dead."
As if to underscore the fact, Gideon’s phone rang, the sound harsh against the quiet of the brownstone. He answered with a growl, listened for a moment and then hung up. "That was Russ checking in. He and Evan Swann have everything under control." Evan was watching the front while Russ kept an eye on the back. "The brownstone is secure."
"Thank you. It’s good to know that they’re out there." She paused for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself, her expression suddenly guarded. "Look, I understand if you don’t want to stay."
Her sudden withdrawal angered him and for a moment, he actually considered leaving. Hell, it would be easier to just walk away. Use the investigation as an excuse for ignoring the problems that still stretched between them. But he wanted her. It was as simple as that. Not just now in this moment. But always. And that meant doing whatever he could to bridge the damn gap.
"I’m not going anywhere. I know you’re hurting, and that you’re frightened and confused. It’s been a hell of a day. But I almost lost you. Again. And so unless you throw me out, I’m staying."
Tears welled in her beautiful eyes and she took a step toward him, one hand extended in entreaty. It was all he needed. He rounded the table and pulled her into his arms. To hell with talking. He’d never been any good at it anyway.
Gideon’s mouth crushed down on Emily’s, a fire raging inside him. It had been like this the first time he’d seen her standing in the doorway of her father’s office. This wanting…needing. It was as if she were a vital part of him. As if he’d been broken all this time, waiting for her to come back. To come home. To make him whole.
She moaned softly and opened her mouth to his, encouraging his possession. He told himself that she was hurting. That he needed to go slowly, but his body wasn’t listening, intent on only possessing her, his primitive side insisting that she belonged to him. Always had. Always would.
