One-Click Buy: December 2009 Silhouette Desire

by Susan Mallery

  He offered his hand and Alex didn’t hesitate in taking it. “I appreciate it, Novak.”

  Lance groaned. “Oh, for the love of—”

  “Shut up, bro.” Mitch cut him off. “A dry well is a dry well. In our business, you have to know when to cut your losses. This is one of those times.”

  One by one, each man followed Kevin’s example. Lance, the lone holdout, finally stepped forward and clasped Alex’s hand, as well. Considering Brody was built like a tank, he didn’t need to exert much pressure for Alex to feel the power behind his grip.

  “I still don’t like you,” Lance said.

  Alex inclined his head. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  Lance’s mouth kicked up in one corner. “But I do respect you.”

  The admission stunned Alex and it took him a second to reply. “I think we can both start from there and see where we end up.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Now that we’re through with the warm and fuzzies, let’s get to work, shall we?” Darius suggested drily. He made a move toward the conference table and once everyone was seated, passed around copies of his report. “I need everyone here to understand that most of this is speculation. It’s solid speculation, but we don’t have enough to take to the cops. Yet. The one thing I can state categorically is that Alex is not responsible for the fire at Brody Oil and Gas. I have eyewitnesses and credit card receipts that place him well away from that location on the night of the blaze.”

  “So, what do you have?” Lance asked.

  Alex took over. “If we examine the timeline of events, what becomes clear is that there is an interesting order to these incidents. From what Mitch has been able to discover in his review of the books, money has been siphoned off to the tune of three hundred grand.”

  Kevin emitted a low whistle. “How?”

  “Just the way Darius thought. He’s been using a company with a name similar to Helping Hands. When an invoice comes in from the shelter, two checks are cut. One to the shelter and a second one to ‘Helping Hearts.’ Every last one of these checks was cashed at the same bank.” Alex eyed each man in turn. “And isn’t it interesting that a year ago—right before the first check went through—the president of that bank was approved as a brand-new member of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.”

  “Who put his name forward?” Lance asked.

  “Sebastian Huntington.”

  Lance winced. “Oh, Kate’s not going to like this. She and Rebecca are closer than sisters.”

  “It’s our belief,” Darius picked up the story, “that Huntington had his foreman, Cornelius Gentry, set the fires in order to pit the six of us against each other to keep us distracted long enough for him to replace the funds. Since he’s the treasurer of TCC, he could tidy everything up so that no one was the wiser.”

  “If we’d remained distracted and fighting amongst ourselves,” Alex added.

  “How did you connect Gentry to the fires?” Justin asked.

  Alex eyed his future brother-in-law. “The same way I was let off the hook is the way Gentry was put on it. He drives a pickup similar to mine. And the idiot stopped for gas a mile away from the refinery—fifteen minutes after the place went up in flames.”

  Darius shook his head in disgusted amusement. “Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, our Gentry.” He tapped one of the points in his report. “The police also found identical boot prints at both the refinery blaze, as well as Alex’s barn fire. Since they’re two sizes smaller than what Alex wears, that’s one more piece of evidence that points at someone other than Alex. If we can connect our man to those prints—and I think we can—we’ll have something we can use. Connect Gentry to the fires, put some pressure on him, and I think we’ll have Huntington.”

  Lance swore. “I don’t like the man, I admit. He’s a pompous, arrogant SOB. But even so, he’s Rebecca’s father and I flat-out adore that woman.” He shot Alex a cold look. “Even if she doesn’t always show the best judgment in men.”

  Alex tamped down on the fury sweeping through him. He didn’t want to think about Rebecca. Not here, in the presence of these men. He’d thought he could handle seeing Becca again, deal with emotions that shouldn’t still be edged with raw pain. But that combined with the animosity that lingered between him and the men in the room with him set his blood boiling. It wasn’t just the Brodys’ treatment of him during high school and the rivalry he and Lance had experienced on the soccer field. They’d made their disapproval keenly felt when he’d dated Rebecca in college. And when their affair had ended, they’d closed ranks and made his life a living hell.

  “Let it go, Lance,” Mitch urged.

  But he wouldn’t, Alex knew. Couldn’t. “Say it, Brody,” he taunted. “Don’t hold back.”

  Old anger burst free. “You used her. You wanted to screw the daughter of your mother’s employer and you did everything and anything necessary to coax her into bed before dumping her like so much garbage. Rumor has it, it was a bet. Is that why you did it? You and your old pal, El Gato, put money on which of you would be the first?”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” The words escaped in a flood of Spanish, but Lance got the gist. “Huntington filled her head with lies—lies she chose to believe.”

  “That’s not the story we heard.”

  Alex forced himself to relax, using every ounce of the iron will and tenacity that had earned him his first million. He deliberately switched to English. “And we all know how trustworthy Sebastian Huntington is. Clearly, his word is solid.”

  An uncomfortable silence reigned for a full minute before Darius tapped the sheaf of papers in front of him. “If we could focus on the matter at hand?” He paused until he had everyone’s attention. “The one thing we do have is incontrovertible evidence regarding the embezzlement. And there’s little to no doubt Sebastian Huntington is behind it.”

  “I’ve spoken with some of the other board members,” Mitch offered. “Quietly. Privately. They all say the same thing. They want Huntington to step down as treasurer—”

  Justin snorted. “You think?”

  “—and replace the money. There’s been some talk about his resigning from the club.”

  “Some talk?” Kevin responded indignantly. “You can’t be suggesting there’s any question about that.”

  “Apparently there is,” Mitch replied. “He’s been a member in good standing for decades. We may all consider him a pompous ass, but the old guard is closing ranks.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Alex murmured. He released his breath in a sigh. He didn’t know why any of this surprised him, but it did. “I’ll speak to Huntington about replacing the money.”

  The Brody brothers exchanged uneasy glances. “I’m not sure—” Lance began.

  Alex cut him off without compunction. “I don’t care what you think or what you’re sure of or not sure of. I will speak to Huntington. Deal with Gentry as you wish. Perhaps you can squeeze the truth out of him. If he points the finger at Rebecca’s father, then you may choose how to handle it. I, for one, have no qualms about seeing both Gentry and Huntington locked up for the rest of their miserable lives.”

  “Regardless of what it’ll do to Rebecca?” Lance asked.

  Alex leaned across the table toward him, his gaze implacable. “He gave no thought to what it would do to the lives of my mother and sister when he threw us off his ranch. All because I had the temerity to fall in love with his daughter. As far as I’m concerned, my mother’s death is a direct result of that man’s actions. So, no. I’m not too concerned about Rebecca’s feelings when I see to it that her bastard of a father is thrown in jail.” He’d had enough. More than enough. He shoved back his chair and stood. “Are we finished here? If so, I have pressing business to attend to.”

  It was business that would eventually return him to Rebecca’s orbit. As he left the meeting room, he glanced toward the café. She was still there, sitting with Kate and picking at her food.

  She’d w
orn her hair up today, piling all that fire and glitter into an elegant little knot on top of her head. Did she have any idea what that hairstyle did to a man? She had a redhead’s complexion, her skin the exact shade of rich cream. And her hairstyle exposed the creamy length of her throat and vulnerable nape of her neck to his gaze. When they’d collided earlier, it had taken every bit of control not to feather his fingers along that throat. To restrain from cupping the back of her neck and urging her upward so he could sample her lush mouth and discover if it still tasted as sweet. To watch those witch-green eyes go slumberous with passion.

  As much as he despised the woman—as much as Rebecca Huntington had made his life a living hell—he still wanted her. And somehow, someway, he’d have her.

  Only this time, it would be on his terms.

  Two

  Rebecca had planned to question her father at dinner that night. But when she entered the dining room, the housekeeper, Louise, informed her that he was dining with his cronies. It seemed ridiculous to eat in solitary splendor, but since the table had been set and the food prepared, there wasn’t much she could do except enjoy the lovely meal that had been prepared for her.

  Shortly after nine, Louise appeared in the doorway of the library where Rebecca was curled up reading. “There’s a visitor to see Mr. Huntington. When I informed him that your father was out for the evening, he insisted on speaking to you.”

  Alex stepped around Louise and entered the library. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

  Rebecca shot to her feet, her book bouncing onto the floor. Louise stared wide-eyed from one to the other. Clearly, she’d heard the whispers regarding their romantic history and didn’t know how to respond. “I’ll deal with Mr. Montoya,” Rebecca informed the housekeeper.

  Alex waited until the door closed behind the woman before bending over and picking up Rebecca’s book. He gave the cover a cursory glance before handing it over. “You always did enjoy science fiction.”

  She didn’t bother with the niceties. Instead, she cut straight to business. “Why are you here? Louise said you wanted to speak to Dad.”

  “Texas Cattleman’s Club business. Rather urgent business. Is he really gone, or am I simply persona non grata?”

  “Both, actually.”

  He absorbed that with a smile. “When do you expect him?”

  Dread gripped her. This must be about the meeting at TCC and the account discrepancy Kate mentioned. Rebecca had called her friend after dinner hoping to get an update, but had been forced to leave a voice mail. Now she wondered if there was a reason Kate elected not to take the call.

  She faced Alex with what she hoped was a serene expression. Realizing that he was still waiting for a response, she shrugged. “Dad didn’t say when he’d return. Perhaps if you phone him in the morning?”

  He laughed. “Get real, Becca. He’d never take the call. I’ll wait until he returns. I’m sure you don’t mind.”

  Making himself at home, he removed his suit jacket and dropped it over the back of the nearest chair. His snowy-white shirt stretched across a physique every bit as impressive now as when he’d played soccer. In fact, she found it more impressive with the added heft and refined muscle the years had built into his frame. A silk tie in a deep, rich ruby was knotted at his throat while a gold tie tack and matching cuff links gleamed in the subdued lighting. He was a gorgeous man, fully in his prime. Intelligent. Confident. Wealthy.

  And he knew it.

  Unless she chose to throw him out—a laughable exercise in futility—she had no option but to surrender gracefully. “What’s this about, Alex?” She waved aside the response she knew he’d make. “I know it’s TCC business. What, specifically?”

  He considered for a moment before inclining his head. “Since I’m sure Kate’s already told you, I don’t suppose it matters.” She didn’t bother to correct him, and he continued. “It’s regarding an account discrepancy.”

  She fought to swallow against a throat gone desert dry. “What sort of discrepancy?”

  “Some money has gone missing.”

  Oh, God. “How much?” she asked tightly.

  “Three hundred thousand.”

  The blood drained from her head and she felt her knees buckle. He reached her side before she even sensed him moving. Strong, powerful hands closed around her arms and he ushered her backward the few steps it took to reach the sofa.

  “Sit down.” When she balked, his voice took on an impatient edge. “Don’t be ridiculous, Becca. You’re going down whether you sit or fall. Better to sit, yes?”

  “You think he stole it, don’t you? You think my father’s responsible.”

  He eased her onto the couch cushions and took a seat beside her, his hands still on her. Touching her. Grasping her. Warming her. “I don’t think.” He instantly dashed her hopes by adding, “I know he stole the money. The proof is undeniable.”

  “There must be some mistake, some reasonable explanation—” she began, searching his expression with raw distress. “Please, Alex.”

  “You always do that.” His gaze blistered her, pinning her in place with eyes the color of bitter dark chocolate. “You always defend him. It doesn’t matter what he does, how despicable his actions, you always take his side.”

  “I don’t want to discuss our past.” She couldn’t bear it. Even after seven long years, the hurt was as fresh as yesterday. “He may have fired Carmen, even though I begged him not to, but his actions weren’t anywhere near as despicable as your own.”

  His expression hardened, assuming a ruthlessness she’d never seen in the Alex she’d known all those years ago. “You’re talking about the bet.”

  She attempted to escape the couch, but he held her in place, refusing to give her the breathing room she needed so desperately. “Of course I’m talking about the bet. The one you made with Rodriquez.”

  “I’ve always been curious.” He tilted his head to one side while he studied her. “How, precisely, did your father learn of this bet?”

  She stirred uncomfortably. “Word gets around, Alex. People…people brag.”

  “Meaning, I must have bragged, because I was so proud of having won this bet. So, first I coaxed you into my bed on a dare and then I boasted about my success when it proved so easy?” He ignored her flinch. “Yes, I see that’s what you believe. Because that was the sort of man I was. A man who steals innocence and brags of his misdeeds. A man who lies and cheats to get what he wants.”

  “Don’t do this, Alejandro.”

  But he didn’t relent. “And because I was this liar, this cheat, this ruiner of all pure and wholesome, your father lashed out at—not just me—but my family, as well. As payback for having the audacity to touch you, he left my sister homeless and caused my mother to work herself into an early grave. This is the man you defend, dulzura?”

  She would have covered her ears if she could have. But he continued to hold her, forcing her to hear each hideous word. “Don’t. Don’t call me that. You don’t have the right. Not any longer.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. “I’ve never had the right, have I?” he demanded in a harsh voice. “Even though you took me into your bed, you still felt guilty. Tarnished.”

  “That’s not true,” she instantly denied. “I loved you.”

  “The housekeeper’s son.”

  How could he think such a thing? She’d never felt that way. Never. “I didn’t care. It didn’t matter.”

  His eyes blazed. “You mean it doesn’t matter now. Now that I have money and status and a ranch that rivals any in Maverick County.” With a muttered curse, he ripped at the knot anchoring his tie as though it were strangling him, and removed the gold tie tack. Up close, she realized it was a beautifully scripted M. He slipped it into his pocket before leaning in. “And now I have the power to determine your father’s future…as well as your own.”

  None of this made sense. Not any of it. “My father is renowned for his investment acumen. His business abilities
are unparalleled. Why in the world would he need to embezzle money from the club?” Rebecca demanded. “Obviously, there’s been some sort of mistake.”

  “You’re right. There has. And your father made it. Even worse, he made it right in front of me, where I could have the pleasure of playing sheriff to his bank robber.”

  She moistened her lips while she struggled to find some answer to his accusation. In response, a flame of desire licked across his expression. Just like that, time slowed and her world tipped in a new and dangerous direction. It was as though all her senses grew more acute and intensely focused, consumed by her reaction to one man.

  Alejandro Montoya.

  Sound dampened. The only whisper slipping through was the labored give and take of their breath. She inhaled sharply, but all that did was fill her lungs with his unique scent, something crisp and spicy. Exotic. His hands tightened on her arms and she remembered how they’d felt against her skin all those years ago. Strong, when they swept her up and carried her to his bed. Tender, when he’d undressed her and caressed parts of her no man had seen or touched until that moment. Gentle, when he’d mated his body to hers and taught her a passion she’d only dreamed about.

  Rebecca’s surroundings melted and all she could see was Alex. He became her universe. He leaned in, so slowly she couldn’t mistake his intent. So slowly, that she could have avoided the embrace if she’d truly wanted to. She didn’t. She wished she could have claimed it was simple curiosity. But it went far beyond that. She needed to know, once and for all, whether the heat between them was real, or mere shadows of what they’d once shared.

  “Dulzura…” he murmured.

  And then he consumed her. How could she have forgotten how it had been between them? Or perhaps she hadn’t forgotten. Living without him and what he’d given her had been too painful to bear, so she’d pushed the memories from her mind as an act of self-protection. Now those memories came crashing down, ripping her apart like shards of broken glass.