One-Click Buy: December 2009 Silhouette Desire

by Susan Mallery

  A denial leaped to her lips, one she didn’t dare utter. Until today she’d have sworn her father was as honest as the day was long, that his pride in his name and reputation and family honor meant everything to him. But she didn’t know the man sitting in their library, a man who had confessed to a crime that her father had always taught her ranked just shy of murder.

  “I see you’re starting to understand,” Alex said. “It’s time to face facts, Rebecca. Your life as you knew it is over. Who will want anything to do with you or your father? Maybe his dishonesty is a genetic trait. Maybe you were in on it. And how delighted some will be that the mighty Huntingtons have finally gotten their—” He tilted his head to one side in consideration. “What is that antiquated phrase? Ah, yes. Comeuppance.”

  “Is that how you see us, Alex?” She dared to close the distance between them. “Is that how you see me? As the daughter of a thief?”

  “It’s what you are.” He spoke the words—brutal, unkind words. They’d have wounded her beyond bearing if she hadn’t seen the truth on his face. He didn’t believe those words. Not even a little. Regret already glittered in the inky depths of his eyes. “Becca—”

  “Tell me what we can do. Tell me what you want.”

  The regret vanished as if it had never been. “And you’ll give it to me?”

  “Yes. Ask and it’s yours.”

  “Just to make all this go away?”

  Her chin shot up. “Not go away. My father owes the money. If it takes us the rest of our lives, it’ll be repaid. If it can be done quietly, fine. If it can’t, it will still be repaid.” She stepped even closer. “But he’s not responsible for those arson fires. I’ll never believe it.”

  “Yesterday, you’d never have believed your father was a thief.”

  “Help me, Alex.” She couldn’t believe she was asking, but what choice did she have? Once Alex set himself a course, he wouldn’t be dissuaded. If she could focus that determination on his finding the true culprit for the arson fires, it would prove her father’s innocence. “I’m only asking you to help me find the truth. Help me find out who’s really responsible for setting the fires at the refinery and at your ranch.”

  “And in exchange, you’ll give me whatever I want?”

  “Yes.”

  He hooked a finger in the neckline of her cotton blouse and tugged her closer. “What if it’s you I want, dulzura? How far will you go, and how much will you give me, if I make you the price for my help?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “All I want is the same thing you do. The truth. And I’ll go as far as you want and give whatever you ask in order to get that truth.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He cupped the back of her neck and took her mouth in a kiss that threatened to destroy what little sanity she retained. His mouth didn’t just take hers, it possessed it, consumed it, set her on fire and then drove those flames into an inferno. And then he released her and stepped back. A late fall chill swept in, replacing the warmth from his embrace.

  “You tempt me, dulzura.” He fixed her with an unreadable gaze. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not a man so easily bought.”

  And with that, he left her standing in the foyer, utterly devastated.

  Rebecca gave herself a day. One single day to get her head straight, her heart protected, and her determination to a point where it outweighed her desperation, before confronting Alex again.

  She wished it could be on her territory, or at the very least at a neutral site, but he made that impossible. He didn’t show up at the Cattleman’s Club, nor at work where she might catch him on the fly. Instead, she was forced to drive out to his ranch, El Diablo.

  At the entryway to his gravel drive, she pulled her convertible to the shoulder of the road and climbed out of the car to gaze at his spread. It was an impressive place, rolling across a full hundred acres of windswept pastureland. The ranch house occupied the southeast corner of his property and from her viewpoint she could see several fenced paddocks and a large barn, which was currently under construction. The general noise of that construction drifted toward her, the sound of saws and hammers and the occasional shout borne to her on the chilly fall breeze.

  The mansion—for it could hardly be called a house—stood crisp and white against a cerulean sky, the central portion a stately two stories, complete with porticos and balconies, while the sides sprawled outward in wide-flung wings like a warm Texan embrace. The sight filled her with dismay.

  Seeing El Diablo in all its glory proved once and for all that this wasn’t her Alex anymore. She’d known that. Known it for a very long time. But until this minute, she hadn’t fully allowed herself to see him as the man he’d become, versus the younger, slightly less powerful version he’d been when they’d first fallen in love. Alejandro Montoya wasn’t a poor teen from the barrio anymore. He was a male at his full strength and capability, a force to be reckoned with. He was also a rich, successful, influential man intent on destroying her father.

  Rebecca’s mouth firmed and she set her chin at a defiant angle. Forewarned was forearmed. Somehow, someway, she would get through to him and resolve this situation, to their mutual advantage.

  Returning to the car, she drove down the sweeping drive and parked a short distance from the barn, where she suspected she’d find him. Sure enough, he stood near the main entrance, blueprints spread across a table made from plywood and supported by a pair of saw-horses. A hammer, a crowbar and a can of nails kept the sheets of paper from rolling up.

  “We need the rough on the plumbing completed today, as well as the electrical,” Alex was saying. “Make sure he puts bibs here, here and here. The building inspector comes tomorrow and I won’t be pleased if there are any delays. Winter’s not that far off and I want this place finished before Christmas.”

  “Yessir, Mr. Montoya. That won’t be a problem.”

  “Thanks, Hank.” He looked up then, his gaze sharp and direct beneath the brim of his Stetson. He didn’t appear surprised to see her. No doubt he’d been expecting this visit. “I’m honored.”

  Okay, color her surprised. “And why is that?”

  “For the first time since I’ve taken ownership of El Diablo, a Huntington has come to call.”

  “And yet, no brass band or groveling peasants,” she dared to tease.

  His mouth twitched before he regained control with characteristic ruthlessness. “I won’t bother to ask why you’re here. I’ll just tell you that you’re wasting both your time and mine. You may have endless hours to fritter away. I don’t.”

  “But you’ll listen to my pitch, anyway.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her confident retort, then jerked his head at Hank. The construction foreman took the hint and made himself scarce.

  “Pitch away,” Alex instructed. She’d never seen him look harder or more remote. A wall of granite would offer a softer embrace than this man. “Not that it’ll do you any good. I have your father right where I want him and nothing you do or say is going to make a bit of difference. So you go right ahead, Ms. Huntington. Lob your best pitch.”

  She struggled to conceal her dismay. “Here?”

  “I’m a busy man. And this has already taken more time than I can spare.” He tugged off his leather work gloves and slapped them onto the makeshift table. Planting his palms on the rough wood, he leaned in her direction, the sheer, unadulterated essence of the man threatening to swamp her senses. “So it’s here and now, or not at all.”

  “Okay, fine.” She took a deep breath. “I’m asking you…begging you…to help me find out who started those fires. To find out who’s really behind them. I know you think it’s my father, but I’m telling you, it’s not. He’s guilty of—” She forced herself to say the words, no matter how acrid they tasted. “He’s guilty of theft. But not arson.”

  Alex simply shook his head. “It’s not my job to find who started the blazes.”

  She marshaled her arguments. “When you put your mind to s
omething, you do it. You make things happen. Please, make this happen.”

  He was shaking his head again before she’d even finished. “There is nothing you can say, nothing you can offer, no inducement tempting enough for me to assist you or your father in this matter. Stay out of it before he takes you down, too.”

  She could see the strength of his decision in his set expression and the burning coldness of his gaze. Time to try a different tack. “We also need to talk about the repayment of the money owed to the TCC.”

  Even on this point he remained unrelenting. “That’s between your father and the club.”

  Alex may have temporarily won their first round, but he wouldn’t win this one. When it came to stubborn, she was his equal. “If we could just have a little time,” she began. “I could make payments—”

  “Forget it, Becca,” he interrupted curtly. “Do you think the Texas Cattleman’s Club is going to wait years for you and your father to pay back the money he stole? They’re barely willing to wait days. If it had been left up to Brody, your father would be cooling his heels in a jail cell as we speak.”

  He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d slapped her. “Brody? Lance Brody? Kate’s Lance?”

  He didn’t spare her. “That’s right. Once he was in possession of all the details, your best friend’s husband demanded that the board have your father arrested. But the board decided to give him the chance to repay the money. My offer to purchase Huntington Manor was his one shot at doing just that.”

  That stung. “I’d be far more appreciative if I didn’t know that your motivation for doing so was to get your hands on our home,” she shot back.

  “Get my hands—” He broke off with a word that had color warming her cheeks. “Why the hell would I want Huntington Manor when I have El Diablo? Your home is a financial sinkhole. Who could afford to buy it, let alone maintain it?”

  That shook her and she scrambled for understanding. “You want revenge. You want to drive my father out of Maverick County.”

  He didn’t deny it. “I would prefer to do both of those things without having such an albatross hanging around my neck. Look around you, Becca. El Diablo is a working ranch. My import/export business doesn’t carry this place. Far from it. I work hard to keep the ranch solidly in the black. Your father, on the other hand, plays at being a rancher. But I guarantee it doesn’t turn a profit and hasn’t for a long time.”

  “I don’t understand. Then why…?”

  “Why would I offer to buy Huntington Manor so your father can pay off the debt? Simple. I want him gone. He doesn’t realize it, yet, but he’s out of options. Either he sells to me or he sells to Rodriquez. But he will have to sell out. And soon.”

  “Rodriquez.” Something her father had said the previous night gnawed at the back of her mind. “Dad says he owes him money, too.”

  Alex nodded. “I’m sure it’s more than either you or your father can get your hands on.”

  “But if you loaned us the money using Sweet Nothings as collateral, that would be enough, wouldn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “This isn’t my problem, Rebecca. Don’t put me in the middle of it.”

  “You came to us as the Cattleman’s representative, remember?” she retorted. “You put yourself in the middle.”

  “It’s out of my hands. Mitch Brody has taken over as club accountant. Talk to him.”

  “I already did. He needs the cash and we don’t have it. But I do have this.” She opened her purse and removed the deed to Sweet Nothings and centered it on the plywood between his widespread hands. “As I told you last night, I own both the building, as well as the business. Combined, they’re worth well in excess of what Dad owes the TCC.”

  He made no move to pick up the deed. “We’ve already discussed this.”

  “We’re discussing it again,” she stated evenly. “I can’t approach Rhymes for a bank loan using the property as collateral, since he’s involved in whatever my father pulled. So, I’m asking you. Will you draw up a loan agreement using Sweet Nothings as collateral?”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “No. Ask the Brodys. They’re your friends, not me.”

  “That’s precisely why I can’t ask them,” she argued. “They’re friends. It would put them in an awkward position and I refuse to do that to them. But if you loan me the money, everyone will know it’s on the up and up because you despise my father.”

  A humorless laugh stirred the air between them. “I have never understood your brand of logic, and I doubt I ever will.” He rocked backward and thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ll bite. How will the good people of Maverick county know it’s on the up and up? I seem to recall we have a romantic history between us.”

  “A history that didn’t end well,” she pointed out. “You have every reason not to help us and damn few reasons to go along with this.”

  “Precisely.”

  He allowed the word to linger until she released a sigh. “I have two goals, Alex. The first is to help my father repay the money he owes. I guarantee someone will loan me the money. My second goal is to prove that my father is innocent of the arson fires and find the person who’s actually guilty.”

  “Not a wise move, Becca. In fact, it’s a downright dangerous one.”

  “Really? There’s a way you can stop me.” She tapped the deed. “Accept my offer and go with me to visit Darius so he can explain why he thinks my father is complicit in these fires. Help me figure out the identity of the guilty party. Otherwise, I’m taking my offer elsewhere.”

  His mouth carved into a cynical smile. “I thought you weren’t going to approach your friends.”

  “I’m not. But since El Gato has a vested interest in all this, perhaps he’ll be willing to help me.”

  “Absolutely not!” Alex bit out.

  She could tell that the words escaped before he’d had time to think better of them, or he’d never have given her so much leverage in their little skirmish. She offered him a gentle smile and waited. It didn’t take long. He snatched off his hat, flung it into the dirt at his feet and swore. She suspected that if he’d cursed in English, she’d have been quite shocked.

  “I take it that means you agree?” she dared to ask.

  He shot her a black glare. “Let me make myself clear, Rebecca. You are not going to ask Paulo Rodriquez for anything, particularly not a loan.”

  Interesting. She tilted her head to one side. “I don’t understand. I thought he was your friend.”

  “He was. Is. We grew up together, were close childhood friends. Until recent events, I’d have said we were still friends. But since it was Paulo who helped put your father in his current predicament, you’d be wise to stay well away from him.”

  She didn’t disagree. In fact, she’d deliberately used the name just to goad him. Now he’d roused her curiosity. “Why shouldn’t I approach El Gato?”

  His mouth tightened, a clear warning signal. “Because I don’t know what he wants from your father. Until I do, it isn’t safe for you to put yourself between them. And it sure as hell isn’t wise to give Rodriquez leverage over you.” His gaze swept over her, the sensation almost as tantalizing as a touch. To her dismay it elicited the same reaction, a deep welling of heat and desire, one it took every ounce of willpower to conceal from his discerning eyes. “Nor should you give me that sort of leverage.”

  “Just out of curiosity, would you use it to hurt me?” She couldn’t resist the question, any more than she could deny her interest in his response.

  “I’d rather not find out.” He bent to pick up his hat, the set of his face making it clear he’d reached a decision. “I’ll take you to see Darius. Maybe he can talk some sense into you. At the very least he can give you a general idea why we think your father is behind the arson fires.”

  “This isn’t just about your vendetta against my father, is it?” she asked in dismay. “You really believe he’s guilty, don’t you?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I don’t doubt for
an instant that he’s guilty as sin.”

  After taking a few minutes to give instructions to Hank, followed by a call to Darius, eliciting the information that the security consultant was at the club, Alex gestured toward her car. “Shall we go together or separately?”

  “Together,” she decided.

  That way she’d have time to further discuss the situation with him—or rather, argue. And if she were brutally honest with herself, she’d also admit that arriving together at the club as a couple would be far less traumatic than enduring the potential stares and whispers from the members if she arrived on her own. The uncomfortable thought gave rise to an even more uncomfortable realization.

  She waited until they were clear of his drive before asking a question that left her feeling equally embarrassed and ashamed. “When Dad resigns, the board will want my resignation, too, won’t they?”

  Alex hesitated before replying. “I don’t see why they would.”

  “You know why,” she whispered, not daring to look his way.

  “We’ll worry about it if it happens.”

  We. That single word gave her hope. He wasn’t totally immune to her or to what she was going through. Maybe she could convince him to help her, to get to the truth. If that proof led to her father, so be it. But she was certain, with every fiber of her being, that as guilty as her father was of embezzlement, he was innocent of arson.

  The fact that his fate rested in the hands of men who would just as soon see Sebastian Huntington in jail as get at that truth, couldn’t be taken lightly. But somehow, someway, she’d find a means to convince them to put aside their animosity and find the actual person responsible.

  Nervous dread swept over her as they approached the entryway to the club. “What is Darius going to tell me?” she asked as calmly as she could manage.

  “That your father is guilty.”

  She gave him a brief, searching glance. “I’m serious, Alex. What incontrovertible proof has Darius found?”