Chance didn’t answer, thinking abruptly, unwillingly, of AJ perched on the car seat, one long, shapely leg dangled in front of him. Temptation. But she was here to party with the big man, and he couldn’t let himself be tempted. He had to keep Mike from harm, until he could prove his uncle’s innocence. Then—his eyes hardened. Then he would become Towers’s worst enemy.
“Course,” Mike went on, lewdly, “the little filly I plan on riding isn’t too well broke just yet, but she’ll come around.”
Chance didn’t ask, but his boss filled in the blanks anyway. “You remember her,” he added. “That AJ girl—what was her last name?”
“Owens,” Chance answered shortly, and Mike chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s her. Put on airs when I invited her. Said she just broke off an engagement and isn’t sure they won’t patch things up.” He stood and straightened his sleeves with fleshy hands. His diamond ring glinted in the study’s soft light. The grin he shot at Chance was malevolent. Full of evil. “Oh, yeah, she’ll come around. I’ll just play her game for a day or two and then—” He snapped his fingers as if calling a dog. Chance wanted to slug him. Instead he turned toward the door, carefully keeping his face expressionless.
“Time for me to make the rounds,” he said.
“Don’t be a stranger around the pool,” Mike called after him. “I might be attacked. By girls in little bikinis.” The man’s raucous laughter followed him out into the heat of the summer night. “Or better—buck naked.
Chapter Three
AJ leaned against the stairwell wall and made herself breathe deeply, trying to ease the pounding in her head and the queasiness threatening to become full-blown nausea. She hadn’t stayed very long at the first of Mike’s parties—just long enough that once he’d asked her a second time to come across “for a few days” she felt comfortable telling him she’d go home and make arrangements to leave her room for the time being. In the time she’d been there, the guests partied, but more decorously than they were doing here. She sighed. She hadn’t lived a sheltered life; her mother Betty and father AR barely made ends meet raising Thoroughbreds. They had raised their two daughters in some rough-and-tumble places, safe but not always decorous. She’d seen a lot. But to turn a corner and find groups of guests indulging in very public sex, to be offered a steady stream of invitations to join in and a variety of drugs she didn’t even recognize, appalled her.
Was this what had happened to her sister? Had Gina seen her husband at parties like this, surrounded by women who wanted his money—and made no bones about what they’d do to get it? Did they behave differently out of respect for Gina when she was alive? Somehow AJ doubted it.
A woman passed her on the way downstairs, just down the hall. Gloria Whitehall was wealthy and well known in Texas social circles. AJ had heard her name often since she had moved back to Laredo. The woman’s blond hair was a mess and her lipstick was smeared. She shot a brief, dismissive glance at AJ as she passed. Fortunately, though, she didn’t speak. AJ had nothing to say to her. Or to any of these people.
With some effort, she pushed herself off the wall and debated which direction to take. Sooner or later, she’d have to return poolside. If she didn’t, Mike might look for her. He’d been drinking all evening, and even though finding Rebel was at stake, she really didn’t want to deal with him tonight.
Tomorrow, she would deal with him. She’d put on her sexiest outfits and she’d pretend she wanted to be his next plaything. But she wouldn’t lower herself to sleeping with that bastard—the man who had stolen her horse and destroyed her sister. She wouldn’t prostitute herself. At first, she’d refused to accept Mike’s invitation. Then, when he wheedled, she’d made up an imaginary fiancé. They had broken up recently, she lied, but she had hopes that things would work out, and she wanted to remain faithful to him until she decided whether or not she could return to him.
“You have to understand something very clearly,” she’d told him, feigning sincerity. “While you’re a very attractive man, I just don’t think I’m interested in anyone right now. I can’t take a chance on ruining everything with my fiancé. I—I planned on marrying him, and that was everything to me. So until I know for sure that it’s over—I won’t get involved with someone else. If it doesn’t work”—she looked directly at him—“then I cut my losses and move on. ”He’d insisted that his invitation was innocent and friendly, and that her stay could be open ended. That she was attractive and good company, and that he just enjoyed having company. He pointed out that many if not all of his guests would stay overnight, and some might stay longer than that. He assured her that she was safe, that he wouldn’t demand a sexual relationship. They both knew he was lying. He’d expect her to sleep with him, sooner or later. And until she could find Rebel and put her plan into motion, she had to string the man along. She whispered a silent prayer for success, knowing her plan was shaky at best. Knowing, too, there weren’t any other options.
She had hoped fervently to find Rebel on the Laredo side, because proving ownership would be simple. She and her mother had Rebel’s papers and could go to court; Mike Towers’s money wouldn’t matter when there would be overwhelming evidence that he belonged to them.
Not so here, though, with a different legal system and where money often dictated justice. She couldn’t take a chance on finding honest lawyers and judges in Nuevo Laredo. Towers was simply too powerful to take on here.
She felt cornered, even though at the moment she was alone. With no other place to go, she decided to retreat to the small but luxurious room she’d been given upstairs. She could also slip in a quick call to her mother, letting her know that she was fine. There was no chance that the festivities around the pool would end any time soon, and she’d go back out later, make some excuse to keep Mike at bay, and then call it a night. Tomorrow would be busy. She’d have to finagle a trip to his stables.
Would he send her with Chance again, she wondered? Probably not. She sighed. Chance had appeared and disappeared throughout the evening, rarely doing more than glancing around or exchanging brief words with the guests. Dark and good looking, the man had clear appeal even if he wasn’t the biggest fish in the Towers’s tank. She’d seen more than one of the women in attendance approach him, most in brief, wet swimwear. He expressed no interest in any of them, although she saw him look at her on several occasions. His gaze was intense—brooding, almost. He’d spoken to her only once, early on, wishing her a brief, “Good evening, AJ.” Formal, and as always, disapproving.
She’d smiled and turned away, afraid that she might throw herself at him only to fend off advances from other men. When one of the guests had been too insistent that she share a slow dance with him, she’d looked around and spotted Chance almost immediately.
How he’d realized her problem still mystified her, but he’d come across the patio, holding out a bronzed hand. “Excuse us, Carlos, won’t you?” he’d said easily. “Miss Owens promised this dance to me.”
Carlos, drunk and belligerent, muttered something about the hired help. Chance lifted an eyebrow at him. “Mr. Towers specifically asked me to see to Miss Owens’s welfare.” He eased AJ away from the man, then glared down at him. “Do you really want to push issues with Mr. Towers, Carlos? I don’t think so.”
Carlos gave both AJ and Chance a venomous last glance, muttered a profanity, and headed toward the poolside bar.
Chance turned to AJ. “Maybe we should really dance,” he suggested. “That man’s ego is notorious, but he’ll probably find someone else by the time the song’s over.”
AJ grinned wryly. “The most romantic offer I’ve ever had,” she murmured, and let Chance sweep her into his arms. His body, warm and strong, shielded her. Protected her. The sensation was novel. She hadn’t let a man hold her in so long—
“This isn’t about romance,” Chance growled near her ear. “Don’t think that for a moment. This is just protection.”
“Part of your job?”
�
�Yes,” he said, harshly, but the feel of his body against hers lulled her into indifference to the words. Better just to feel, not think.
• • •
AJ reached the landing at the top of the stairs and glanced down. No one watched her. She thrust the memory of Chance away. So she’d allowed herself five minutes of luxury, of pretended normalcy. Dancing with an attractive man, feeling safe and feminine in someone’s arms—he’d served his purpose. Time to put him aside. Resolutely, she walked toward her room, which was near the end of the long hall. The lights were mostly turned off; soft night lights glowed from sconces, but the dimness separated the host’s private quarters from the downstairs, still ablaze from the light of the chandelier.
As she pushed the door open, there was a slight movement, something large and white moving near the foot of her bed. She gasped and flicked the light on, her heart racing, sure that she’d seen someone’s pet, or—or—
A baby. A baby sat there, one chubby hand clutching the bedspread, looking at her with round blue eyes. She supposed he was just under a year, clearly able to sit and crawl, but apparently not walking. His presence here, however, was a mystery. She hadn’t seen any of the guests bring a child, and somehow she doubted anyone would bring a baby to a Mike Towers’s affair.
“¿Gordito?” A woman’s plaintive voice carried softly from some other room. “¿Gordito? ¿Donde estas? Where are you?”
Relief flooded through AJ. The darling little boy must belong to one of the staff.
“Hey, little guy,” she murmured gently, going over and bending down. She held out her arms. “Will you let me take you to your mom?”
The baby considered her gravely for a moment, then smiled and thrust his little arms out. She swept him up and kissed his cheek impulsively. “You’re one cute dude,” she crooned, and he laughed and grabbed her nose, twisting it playfully. “Not nice, but cute,” AJ muttered, and he giggled again.
Holding him carefully, she walked out in the hall just as a young woman came out from a room several doors down.
“You found him!” she cried softly, running toward AJ. “He’s never gotten out of the nursery before!” Her English was excellent, virtually without an accent, and she was stunningly beautiful. Dark hair tumbled around her pale shoulders, her dark eyes full of relief as she took the baby from AJ. “My bad, bad Gordito!” she scolded. “You scared me!” The baby merely smiled at her and made a grab at her nose, too. She obviously knew the little hand was coming, and she caught it and placed a kiss on his palm, making the baby laugh merrily.
AJ smiled at the young mother. “What a beautiful baby,” she said sincerely. For the briefest of seconds, she thought about commenting on the baby’s light hair and blue eyes, but stopped, horrified at how rude she’d almost been.
“Thank you,” the woman said, shifting the baby to hold out a slender hand. “I’m Rosa. I work here, for Mr. Towers.” The slight hesitation in the soft voice spoke volumes.
“I didn’t see the little guy earlier,” AJ mentioned, reaching over to pat the soft cheek one last time. “Does he stay upstairs most of the time?”
“Always.” Rosa turned away abruptly. “You must excuse me. El Gordito should be asleep.”
Watching Rosa hurry back to her room, AJ understood with sudden clarity. Mike Towers’s baby. Undoubtedly, the baby was his. Her eyes narrowed. Towers hadn’t wasted much time after Gina’s death, had he? Gina had been gone just over seven months. Anger flared briefly, anger at the beautiful young woman who must have shared Towers’s bed—during her sister’s marriage.
But the rage faded away, replaced with unbearable sadness. Nothing could hurt Gina now. Not even the loss of the baby she’d wanted so desperately, but had miscarried a few months before her death.
“AJ?” Chance’s voice from the top of the stairwell startled her, making her jump.
“Sorry,” he apologized, coming down the hall toward her. “Didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”
“My nerves are on edge,” she admitted, trying to hide the weariness in her voice. She seldom stayed up this late; years of rising before dawn to care for Thoroughbreds made going to bed early critical. “What can I do for you?”
His eyes swept over her. Given the skimpy cream short set she was wearing, she wouldn’t have been surprised at some off-color suggestion. Lord knew she’d heard a few of those already tonight.
“Nothing. I actually came to do something for you,” he said, after a minute.
“Really?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “And that would be?”
He seemed a little abashed. “I may be totally out of line,” he said slowly, watching her. “But you looked a little uncomfortable out there.”
She should be concerned, she knew. He was reading her inexperience, wasn’t too far away from the conclusion that she wasn’t here as Mike Towers’s next sexual adventure. But all she could do was smile with gratitude. And relief. He knew, and he seemed concerned. “A little,” she agreed.
“Do yourself a favor,” he murmured, glancing around to be sure he wasn’t overheard. “It’s gotten ugly out there. Don’t go back out tonight.”
She sighed. “Mike might look for me.”
She hadn’t meant it the way it sounded, but the disapproval returned to his eyes immediately.
“Look,” she amended, running a hand through her hair, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t give too much away. “What I’m afraid of is that Mike’s been drinking. We had an agreement about my visit, but I’d just as soon not have to deal with him tonight. Not alone. So I thought I’d go back down where there were people.”
“Don’t.” She puzzled him; she could see that, as he regarded her more with confusion than condemnation. “If you don’t want to go, you’ll be safe here. I’ll handle Mike.”
She smiled, sincere and temporarily unworried about letting her gratitude show. “Thanks, Chance.” At her door, though, she paused, turning to look back. He still stood there, watching her with those dark, unreadable eyes.
“Why are you doing this, Chance?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Call it moonlight madness,” he said. “But, AJ—”
“Yes?”
“All bets are off from tomorrow on, okay? You bought into Mike’s game, and I can’t protect you. Not when I’m paid to protect him.”
The hardness was back in his voice, but she nodded slowly. What he said was true enough. And she had her own job to do.
“Good night, then, Chance,” she murmured, and pulled the door shut behind her.
• • •
The soft gurgle of a baby’s laughter woke AJ at six thirty. She sat up in bed, blinking, and looking around the shadowy room with gritty eyes. Had it been a dream? The cute little boy from last night was nowhere to be seen. She shuddered slightly as she remembered the wail that she had heard on Towers’s ranch on the Laredo side of the river. La Llorona, she had dubbed it. She knew that the myths and legends of her childhood were no more true—or untrue—than the Boogeyman or any other tale of terror.
Being here, in the house where Gina had lived so recently, was harder than she had expected. She almost expected her sister to open the door and rush in on a burst of sunny, excited innocence. Gina’s naiveté charmed everyone who knew her. Her sister hadn’t been shallow, and her belief in everyone around her was sincere and flattering. But in the end, how dearly it had cost her and those who loved her.
A tear rolled down her cheek and AJ brushed it away with such force that her face stung. There would be no tears for Gina now. Just vengeance. She would get Rebel home to her mother, somehow. Or die trying. The cliché repeated itself in her mind like a litany. Death was a distinct possibility. For her. For the stallion. But she wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t.
No wonder she’d woken to the imagined gurgle of laughter. Babies were so full of innocence, of hope and love. She smiled again, imagining the baby’s round little face. The dim light wouldn’t have done him justice. She�
��d have to look in on him today. Surely no one would mind. She wondered if his eyes had been as brilliantly blue as she remembered. Towers had blue eyes, of course, but not nearly that vibrant. She couldn’t think of anyone with those sapphire eyes except Gina.
The pain threatened again. She fought the urge to pummel the wall, or to sink to the floor and scream. Gina. Gina, with the brilliant blue eyes. Gina, who would have cherished the baby she’d miscarried, just as Rosa cherished her son—would the pain never stop?
No wonder La Llorona still haunted the riverbanks, wailing her agony. How could you lose your own—destroy your own—and bear the anguish?
An abrupt knock at the door startled her, and she snatched up a robe, wrapping it tightly around her. “¿Quien es?” she asked, hoping that it was merely one of the maids, checking to see if she needed something. It was much too early to deal with anything major like Mike Towers. Or Chance.
But it was Chance’s voice on the other side of the door.
“AJ, it’s me.” He paused before adding, “Chance.”
She cracked the door open and peeked out. For a man who couldn’t have slept much, he looked amazingly alert. He hadn’t shaved, but the dark growth shadowing his chin just added to his appeal. His hair was tousled, and she wondered momentarily whose hands had mussed those dark locks, but pushed the insane thought from her mind. It was none of her business, and she didn’t care anyway.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, not opening the door any wider even though he stepped closer.
“Just checking to see if everything’s okay,” he said. “I thought you might be up already.”
“Why did you think that?” she asked, curiously. “I hadn’t planned on being awake this early, as a matter of fact.”
He shrugged. “You said you used to be around horses. From what I know of the business, it involves long hours.”
She laughed softly. “You’re right about that,” she agreed. “I’m not up, really. And I’m not dressed, either. But I’m fine. So you can go away now.”
Texas Temptation Page 78
