“Well, now, I’m not sayin’ she wasn’t gonna get hitched,” he countered, finally looking back at Chance. “Pretty woman like her, sure she had some poor idiot panting after her. But she hit on me quick enough. Pretty clear what she wanted. Came over here with every intention of letting me lay her. And then what? She changes her mind?”
“Second thoughts,” Chance suggested. “Maybe she really does think she can get back with her fiancé?”
Towers shook his head slowly. “I been thinkin’ on this a lot,” he said. “And a couple of other people had the same thought.”
“And what thought is that?” Chance asked grimly, making a list of possible gossips and coming up with two. Jaime and María.
“Well, might not be your doin’ exactly, but seems like the little filly might be findin’ you more to her likin’ than me.”
“What bull!” Chance snapped. “I’m not in the habit of going after your women, Mike.”
“No. Not in the habit.” Towers stood up, stretching, and then leaned his hands on the desk, his eyes full of accusation.
“Don’t think you’ve ever been stupid enough to do that. But I can’t help thinkin’ that the reason AJ keeps puttin’ me off is ’cause she’s hopin’ for you.”
Chance shook his head. “I pity you, then,” he said with as much bravado as he could muster. “You’ve got pretty poor character judgment. Because I can tell you up front—she’s got no interest in me.” He paused, suddenly realizing he could jeopardize AJ even by denying her interest in him. At least in Towers’s mind, the reason explained her actions to some extent. And since he himself wasn’t sure of her real motive, the more Towers thought about her, the more likely he’d be to let his desire harden into suspicion. Into vengeance, if he realized she’d come here under false pretenses.
And if he found out that she was Gina’s sister—then his own time here would be at an end. That couldn’t happen. Not when he’d finally caught up with Bone and hinted that he needed a job done. He’d promised his aunt and uncle that he would find proof of Towers’s guilt. That his uncle would be a free man again, and finally he was closer than he’d ever been.
“Look, I didn’t mean to snap your head off,” he offered in a conciliatory tone. “I just don’t see AJ the way you do.” He shook his head, and moved away from the desk. “She seems like—I don’t know. A nice enough woman. She sure doesn’t seem to be after me.”
“‘Nice enough woman,’” Towers snorted. “Like my wife the whore?” He slammed a fist down on his desk. “Ain’t no nice enough woman, boy.” He snickered.
“Then send her home,” Chance suggested. His head throbbed. She wouldn’t appreciate his intervention. She would be furious if Towers did chase her off. But the possibility that Towers could force himself on her sickened him. And infuriated him. He could only help her by getting her off the ranch.
But Towers just shook his head. “Hell, no,” he said. “Ain’t no way that woman leaves without givin’ me what I want. Hell, she all but promised it when she came on to me that first night. And she owes me now.”
He moved around the desk, walking up to Chance and laying one of his beefy hands on his arm. “Just watch her, Chance. Don’t let me find you messin’ with the one woman I’d hurt you over.”
“Take your hand off me, Mike. If that’s all, I need to check up with Santos and look in on the dogs. Would you like the logs?”
“No. We’ve said what had to be said,” Towers said. He went back to his desk and sat down.
“I’ve got the governor’s dinner in Austin on Friday,” he said. “Can’t miss it, and don’t think I’ll take little Miss Priss. The governor thinks I’m still mourning my dear departed wife.” He leered. “He’s on one of those stupid family values bandwagons—they all are, when it suits ’em. Probably leave tomorrow so I can take care of some business in San Antonio on the way up. But I’ll be back Saturday. And then … AJ and me’s gonna have a little talk.”
Chance managed to nod nonchalantly, to speak past the anger tightening his throat muscles. “You’re the boss. But we should get together and talk about some security issues before then.”
“Maybe.” Towers reached to pull the phone closer. “I don’t much worry on the Texas side, not once I’m away from my place. Once I head up north, nothing will happen. The governor’s bash will be plenty safe.” He paused, squinted a little in thought.
“’Course, it might be good if you were back in Laredo. I’ve got Jaime and the boys here, and no one’s runnin’ the show there. Besides,” his tone dropped a note, “that way there’s no doubt AJ’ll get you outta her head, if that’s the problem.”
Chance pulled the door open. “Like I said, I’ll do what you tell me. But I’d agree that the Laredo side’s safer than here. I’ll be pretty useless sitting in a room in Laredo if someone pumps you full of lead on this side. Might keep that in mind.” Before Towers could infuriate him any further, he stepped out in the hall and closed the door behind them.
As he closed the door, realization struck. Mike thought AJ had gone shopping. He knew that she hadn’t. She’d been in the plaza when she saw him with Bone, and she told him she hadn’t bought a thing—that she hadn’t wanted to owe Mike a penny. But clearly, Jaime had lied—and told Mike she’d spent the afternoon shopping. Why? Jaime had no reason to cover for AJ—so had he been covering for his own carelessness? More than ever, the bodyguard’s behavior seemed totally off.
And as he wondered about Jaime, he wondered again how the hell he could save AJ, a baby, and his uncle, if he couldn’t save himself.
Chapter Twelve
AJ twisted her hair into a knot and pinned it in place, hoping that she could find some relief from the searing temperature. As cool as it was in the house, a step or two out into the yard and she’d be drenched with sweat and cursing the heat.
Not that she was sure she’d leave her room. Somewhere out there, Mike waited. He might be going about his business, but he’d pop out of nowhere if he saw her before he left for San Antonio. And Chance would be around, too, with looks laced with a mixture of concern, suspicion, and—what? Heck, even María, the sour-faced housekeeper, seemed to be frowning her way more often than not.
“Does wonders for the ego,” she mused out loud. “Not a friendly face in the place.”
The gurgle of laughter behind her belied that assessment. Gordito came toddling in, all laughter and gladness. She’d been amazed to return from her short trip to Monterrey and find that he’d started trying to walk. She grinned and snatched him up just before he fell, kissing him loudly on the cheek and then laughing out loud when he tried to mimic her and blew a wet, noisy kiss on her cheek.
“You’re a breath of fresh air,” she told him, hugging him gently. “You probably shouldn’t be here, though. Your mom will be worried about you.”
She smoothed the baby’s fine tangle of blond hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You sure don’t favor your mom,” she murmured against the scalp. “Not even your dad, really. But genetics are funny that way.”
Gordito twined a chubby hand in her dyed hair and jerked experimentally.
“Owww! Hey, I have enough that it hurts when you pull it!” she scolded, carefully untwining his fingers. “Gina would have loved you. You know, your eyes are just about as blue as hers.” She buried her face momentarily in the toddler’s chest, breathing in his essence, thinking of Gina.
Gina, whose last letter—one of only three she’d written during her marriage—told of a miscarriage. AJ’s chest hurt, and she could still see the tear-stained page. Still remember how she’d cursed her sister for not leaving and just coming home, sure from the absence of information about Mike Towers that the desperate pain over losing a baby was unimportant to the man who’d isolated her from her family.
“Dear Lord, how she must have suffered,” AJ whispered against the baby’s shirt, and managed a smile when he tugged her head back up. She kissed his cheek. “But you’re just priceles
s, aren’t you? Let’s get you back to your room before anyone worries.”
Rosa met her just outside the door, her face pulled into a frown. “This boy! He cannot be kept in one place!”
“He’s a smart little guy,” AJ agreed, handing him over after a final hug. “Fast, too!”
Rosa grinned. “And never tired. But eventually—he will get his nap!”
Alone again, AJ went back inside her room and walked to the window, looking down on the yard outside. Far off, she saw movement; when she squinted, she could see it was Chance, walking alone near the barns. He disappeared, and she leaned her forehead wearily against the glass. Just the brief image of him made her stomach clench, her breath catch a little in her throat. Did he wonder if she’d slept with Towers? She’d have to face him again to find out.
She straightened. What he thought couldn’t matter. Not when Rebel was on this property, and the subject of insurance fraud had come so easily to his mind when he’d found her with Goof. Not when she’d seen that horrible man hanging around the stable and talking to him in Monterrey.
Damn you, Chance, she thought. Damn you to hell. Why couldn’t we … just be? Why do you have to work for Mike, be loyal to him?
She paced a narrow circle near the foot of her bed, caught up in the futility of her situation. Monterrey had shown her clearly that Mike’s patience was at an end, and he’d expect her to deliver on the promises he’d assumed accepting his invitation implied.
She clapped her hands together as she paced, trying to get rid of the nervous energy threatening to make her scream.
“He won’t rape me,” she told herself softly. “He won’t.” She said it again, weighing it. Wondering if that were true, here where the circumstances would be seen as suspicious on her part. She’d accepted a strange man’s invitation to spend “a while” at his ranch in a foreign place. An invitation that came with the implied understanding that she wouldn’t come and go, but stay there as tradition dictated. Even her friends would claim that was inviting disaster.
The door opened suddenly, startling her.
“María,” she murmured. “I didn’t hear you knock.”
The woman shrugged. “Perhaps la senorita was lost in her thoughts of her man.”
AJ lifted a brow at the woman, not masking her annoyance. “My thoughts are not much your business, though, are they?” she demanded. “Even if I was thinking of Mike—”
María snorted her contempt. “I said your man, not el jefe.” The dark eyes glittered with malice. “He should not have come here. He is not one of us.”
“Mike?” AJ asked, not sure she followed the woman’s train of thought.
“No. Again.” María walked over to the dresser, smoothed an embroidered doily, and caught AJ’s gaze in the ornately framed mirror. “Your man. Chance.”
Fear tightened her chest, and she muffled a quickly drawn breath of surprise at this woman’s attack. She’d never been friendly, but until today, she had also never seemed a threat. She couldn’t decide what to say, but María went on anyway, her eyes merciless.
“Any fool could see that it is him you want, and not the boss. El jefe is a fool if he does not see it himself. He should not have brought Chance Landin here. Jaime takes care of him. There is no need for Chance.”
So. María’s problem had to do with prejudice. Or something deeper that she felt for the disreputable guardaespaldas? AJ walked over to the closet and made a show of searching for something, collecting her thoughts. Had María seen something, overheard something?
Apparently the older woman hadn’t finished. She picked up a blown-glass partridge from the dresser, waving it in the air. Light speared through the translucent blue and green figurine, spattering a wall with color. The housekeeper ignored the show of colors, again closing their distance and wielding the bird more like a weapon than an adornment.
“The boss always pays us too little attention,” she hissed. “Jaime is a better man than Chance Landin has ever been. Yet he brings the man here to sleep with his woman. Again. Different women, but the same man made a fool of him with both.”
Frustrated, AJ drew herself up straight, then snatched the bird from the woman’s hands. She walked over to the dresser, deliberately set the bird in place, and then confronted the woman again.
“¿María, de que hablas? What are you talking about? Chance and I—”
María snorted. “No. The boss has not given you a chance, or you would have been in his bed.” She walked to the door, rested a hand on it. “We both know that. But I know he brought la señora Gina here to keep her away from Chance.”
AJ’s breath caught. Her heart thudded, too slowly and painfully against her chest, and her fingers dug into the denim of her jeans. Gina? María was saying that Chance had wanted Gina?
María eased the door open, her face stone-hard, her expression chilling. “He never said. But he brought Chance only when he could no longer ponerle cuernos—make him a fool.” Then she chuckled, an unnerving guttural noise full of ill will. “For the good it did. She died with another lover anyway.”
The door closed softly behind her, leaving AJ clutching the dresser in stunned silence.
• • •
A slight noise in the room woke her, but even in her grogginess, AJ went still, clutching the linens in her fists and twisting them to help her remain silent and motionless.
Had Towers returned from San Antonio and crept into her room, planning on assaulting her before she realized what was happening? Or had she merely imagined a presence in the room? Awake now, she heard nothing.
Slowly she sat up, holding the sheet and thin bedspread close as if they could protect her from whatever unseen dangers lurked.
Just as she sat, a lamp on the far dresser went on, and with a click, dimmed to its lowest setting.
“You?” She dropped the linens and clambered out of bed, her face flushing with anger. “What the hell are you doing sneaking into my bedroom at—at—”
“It’s a little after one,” Chance supplied, voice low. “I had to be sure María wasn’t lurking around anywhere. She seems to watch everyone.” Then, in a lower voice, “For God’s sake, put something on!”
His hoarse plea reminded her that she wore her shortest, skimpiest nightgown. For an insane moment, she wanted to refuse, to face him wearing virtually nothing, relishing the obvious attraction he felt toward her. But just as quickly, common sense and indignation swamped her, and she groped for her robe without turning away from him, knowing she always left it hanging on the corner of the bedpost.
She shrugged into it and belted it without speaking, then glared across the barely lit room at him.
“You haven’t explained how you had the nerve to come slithering into my room—”
“Keep your voice down,” Chance muttered. “You’re squeaking again.”
Squeaking? Unbidden, the memory of the first time he’d accused her of squeaking rushed back. He’d said that she didn’t squeak around Towers.
Before she could say anything else, though, he closed the distance between them. Dressed in gray and black, he seemed just another shadow in the room, one that moved as the moonlight pushed through the window, aiding the lamp in dispelling a bit of the darkness. His stealth was unsettling, but she resisted moving away from him.
She wasn’t afraid of him. Was she?
When he raised a hand, though, she flinched. Then she saw that he was holding an envelope, and felt silly at how intimidating she found him in the small space they shared.
“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here?” she prodded.
“Go look out in the hallway,” he ordered, not quite whispering. “If nobody’s around, lock the door.”
She did as he said. “Why didn’t you just lock the door while you were sneaking in?”
She heard impatience when he answered. “If you woke up screaming or something because I startled you, I thought whoever came to see why should find the door unlocked. I hadn’t really though
t of what I’d say, but luckily—I didn’t startle you enough to cause problems.”
She hated how much sense he made, so she tried to find holes in his reasoning. “And how do you know someone won’t try the door after I lock it, genius?”
“Because if María saw me come in, she’d hang around to see how long I was in here. You’ll catch her in the hall if she’s there. Glance out.”
AJ opened the door, ready to tell anyone eavesdropping that she’d been startled by a noise. The hall was silent. Empty.
Relieved, she closed and bolted the door as he’d asked.
“What if someone besides María followed you?” she demanded, irritated that he rarely lost a discussion.
“No one’s here at night besides María and Rosita. Rosita’s no danger.”
“She—” AJ bit back the accusation that the maid was clearly in love with him. It was none of her business, and Rosa certainly didn’t have to answer to him.
“Was your sister’s best friend,” Chance said matter-of-factly.
The words hit her with physical force, making her knees go weak and slamming her backwards against the wall.
“What—I don’t—”
“Come sit down,” he ordered, waving at the bed. “We need to talk. What I need to say can’t wait.”
“No.” AJ shook her head. “You have nothing to say to me about my sister. You—you sick bastard! If you’re going to tell me you had an affair with her, don’t. I knew Gina. She never would have cheated. She loved Mike!”
Not at the end. Her last letter was testimony to her desperation. Loyalty to her sister kept her from admitting the little she knew of Gina’s final weeks. Still, according to María, Chance Landin had tried to seduce his boss’s wife—
“Do you ever check your facts?” he retorted coldly. Then he shrugged. “I guess that’s hard to do when you’re pretending to be someone else.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” AJ pointed out and walked over to sit where he had indicated. He didn’t sit, just moved around to lean against the dresser so that he could face her. He propped his hip on the edge and rubbed a hand roughly over his face.
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