“I assume you also need me to do the grocery shopping?” When he hesitated, she planted her hands on her hips. “Did my predecessor do it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then.”
“Becca—”
“Please, Alex,” she whispered. “I have to try. Give me a chance.”
The mouth she’d taken such delight in kissing compressed into a hard line. “You know as well as I do that you can’t do an adequate job around here and still run Sweet Nothings. It’s too much for one person.”
“I can manage until I get the debt paid off.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Do you have any idea how long that’s going to take?” he demanded. “We’re not talking about a few weeks or months. We’re talking about years.”
“Not necessarily. The shop provides an excellent income. You should be able to get a decent amount for my car. It may be used, but it’s been gently used.”
“You’re living in a fool’s paradise, Rebecca. You won’t be able to keep up this pace for a month, let alone years. Face facts.”
Rebecca struggled to regain her footing. Maybe she’d have a better shot at it if she weren’t so tired she could barely see straight. “You think I haven’t? You think I don’t know how much we owe you?” Struggling for control, she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat as carefully as though the least careless movement would shatter her. She moistened her lips before continuing. “I’m not quite the fool you take me for, Alex.”
He studied her warily. “What do you mean?”
“I realize that if you hadn’t agreed to use Sweet Nothings as collateral that you’d now own Huntington Manor.” She waved a quick hand through the air. “You, or someone other than my father. Someone like Rodriquez. Dad would have been forced to sell in order to cover his debts and lawyer fees.”
“Probably.”
“It could still happen,” she whispered. “Couldn’t it?”
He started to reply, then broke off with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Alex?” she pressed.
“Let’s just say this mess is far from over.” His expression was more grim than she’d ever seen it. “Until it is, stay away from Rodriquez, Becca,” he ordered. “If he contacts you, refer him to me, and then call me immediately.”
“Is my father in danger?”
“Madre de Dios!” Alex forked his fingers through his hair. “Paulo is dangerous to you, Becca. That’s all that should concern you. Your father made his bed. Let him learn to sleep in it.”
“Is that the attitude you’d take if our situation was reversed and Carmen was the one at risk?” she dared to ask.
He made a valiant effort to control his temper, which impressed the hell out of Rebecca. “As I’ve pointed out before, that’s not a fair comparison and you know it. First, my mother would never have put herself in the position your father is in. There were times when she couldn’t put sufficient food on the table, but she never resorted to stealing so much as a penny from any of the fine mansions she cleaned, even though they could well afford it and would never have missed the odd bits and pieces that would have made the difference between filling our bellies and going hungry.”
“Oh, Alex,” she whispered, her heart breaking for him.
His head reared back. “I’m not asking for your pity,” he said in a cutting voice. “I merely state fact.”
“Let’s say that your mother had borrowed money from Rodriquez to tide you over, and was then unable to repay it. You’d have stepped in before he could harm her.” There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. “How is what I’m doing any different?”
He crossed the room in a half dozen swift strides and plucked her from her chair. “The difference is that your father is well able to look after himself, even if he now chooses to hide behind your skirts. The difference is that my mother was a kind, loving, humble woman, while your father is an arrogant bastard who thinks he can do whatever he pleases without taking responsibility for his actions or suffering the consequences for them.”
She wished with all her heart that she could deny any one of his points, but she couldn’t. As much as she loved her father, she wasn’t blind to his faults. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t stick by him and do her best to help him out of his current predicament. The full enormity of the task pressed down on her like a crippling weight. Paying back the TCC—or rather, Alex—had seemed tough enough. But now that he’d explained about Paulo Rodriquez…
“Enough,” Alex announced. “It’s clear that you’re at the end of your rope, and I won’t have people saying that I’m responsible for driving you into the ground.”
She started to wave that aside, letting out a gasp of surprise when he swung her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen and into her private quarters. He didn’t pause, continuing straight through to the bedroom. There, he dumped her onto the mattress and cupped the back of one ankle, and then the other, in order to slip her shoes from her feet.
“I can undress myself,” she informed him with a dry smile. It was either that or weep. “I’ve been doing it for more than two decades.”
“And here I thought you had servants to take care of that, as well as grant your every other whim.”
“Funny.” She pointed toward the door. “I believe I’ve made it clear where my duties end. And it’s on the other side of that door.”
He continued to hold her ankle for a long moment. His fingers drifted over the narrow bones, teasing the sensitive skin until she shuddered with the effort to control her reaction. To her profound relief, he didn’t seem aware of how close she came to tugging him down on top of her and allowing desire to overrule common sense.
“A pity.” Alex released her ankle and stepped back. He paused halfway to the door and glanced over his shoulder. “You will remember to call me if Rodriquez contacts you in any way?”
It wasn’t worth arguing about, not when every instinct she possessed urged her to do just that. “I promise.”
“Sleep well.” His mouth tugged to one side. “God knows, I won’t.”
Seven
The next week proved one of the most stressful Rebecca had ever experienced. Exhaustion dogged her every step. It wasn’t just getting up at four each morning in order to take care of her housekeeping duties before racing into town to open Sweet Nothings. She hadn’t taken into consideration the sheer manual labor involved in keeping a mansion the size of El Diablo in pristine condition.
Well, if she looked at the bright side of things, she could cancel her gym membership. Her daily workouts there were nothing compared to what she received cleaning and dusting the endless rooms that comprised Alex’s home. She just had to give herself time to adjust. And she needed time to learn the most efficient way to clean.
Until this week, she’d never considered her shop a place to rest and relax. But now she treasured every precious hour she spent there, especially knowing what awaited her back at El Diablo. It wasn’t that she minded the physical aspects of the work, despite how exhausting they were. It was the quiet forbearance with which Alex regarded her efforts.
He ate her under-over-badly cooked food with a stoic air. He didn’t complain when she bleached the color out of his shirts or tinted unexpected color into them. He didn’t do more than sigh when his boots stuck to the polish she’d spent hours applying to his wooden floor. But with each incident, she felt less and less capable and more and more as though she were taking advantage of him. He shouldn’t be paying her. She should be paying him for all the damage she’d inflicted on him and his home.
Rebecca forced herself to her feet with a heartfelt sigh and proceeded to unload the latest shipment of lace and silk delicacies. Though the beginning of the week had been as busy as ever, the past few days business had slacked off. She suspected the recent cold snap was in part to blame. Who wanted to purchase silk lingerie when the weather screamed for fleece?
Behind her, the bell tinkled merrily and a customer wandered in, someone R
ebecca vaguely recognized from high school. “It’s Mary Beth, isn’t it?” She greeted the woman with a friendly smile and gestured toward the section of the store she’d just finished organizing. “The items on the rack beside you are just in. In fact, you’re the first to see them.”
“Probably the last, too,” she said in a cool voice.
Rebecca stared in confusion. Maybe if she hadn’t been so tired, she’d have caught on sooner. Instead, she offered a puzzled look. “Excuse me?”
“Business a bit slow?” Mary Beth ran careless fingers over the latest shipment, knocking several of the garments off their padded hangers. “It’s only going to get slower now that all of Somerset knows the truth about you mighty Huntingtons. Who’s going to want to buy sleazy underwear from someone like you?”
Rebecca froze. “I don’t know what—”
Mary Beth cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Oh, please. It’s all over town. Your father. You working for Montoya.” She made annoying little air quotes around the word “working.” “And won’t we all just have the biggest laugh while we watch you tumble off your pedestal.” She gave the store a dismissive look. “Enjoy your Sweet Nothings. Without customers, that’s precisely what this place will be. Nothing.”
She swung toward the exit, just as the door opened. A man standing there ran an appreciative glance over Mary Beth. “Señora,” he murmured, flashing a brilliant, white grin at her.
She returned the look with interest, then stepped into the November chill. Rebecca could only pray that she didn’t appear as shell-shocked as she felt. Gathering her self-control, she offered the new customer her most professional smile. Now that she looked at him, he seemed vaguely familiar, as well. Dread swamped her. With luck, he’d prove to be a legitimate customer and not some curiosity seeker reacting to the rumors that had apparently begun circulating about her and her father.
“May I help you?” she asked warily.
His mouth curved upward in an oddly satisfied smile. “In more ways than you can count,” he murmured in a lightly accented voice. Aware that his comment had thrown her, he gestured toward the interior of the store. “I’m looking for something special. For my future wife,” he clarified.
“I can help you with that.”
“I’m sure you can.”
His comment caused a visceral reaction she couldn’t explain, but one that sent warning alarms clamoring. She did her best to conceal her concern and moved toward the front of the store, rather than the back. “Could you give me some idea what you’re looking for?”
He gave it a moment’s consideration. “A nightgown. For our wedding night.”
“And your fiancée’s coloring?”
A slow smile lit his face, one that didn’t quite reach his hard, black eyes. “Why, she’s a redhead, like you.”
Okay, she knew when someone was playing games with her. And this guy was definitely a player. And then it hit her where she’d seen him before. It had been a brief glimpse several months ago. He’d been talking to her father, the two in a rather heated discussion. When she’d asked her father about the incident, he’d brushed it aside. Now the incident took on greater significance. If she were a betting woman, she’d lay odds this was the infamous Paulo Rodriquez, which could only mean one thing.
Trouble.
As casually as she could, she picked up her cell phone from the counter by the register and bounced it from hand to hand in what she hoped appeared to be a restless, unconscious habit.
“Hmm. Well, black always looks—” She blinked, as though in surprise. “Hang on. My phone is vibrating. Damn. It’s Alex. If I don’t take this…” She broke off with an irritated shrug.
Before he could react, she flipped it open and hit the 1 key assigned to automatically dial Kate’s cell. At the next opportunity, she was going to program Alex’s private number into her phone. To her profound relief, her friend picked up almost immediately. “Yeah, Bec. What’s up?”
“Yes, Alex. I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “You worry too much.”
There was a beat of silence. Then, “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Rebecca could only thank God that she’d picked smart friends. Kate wasn’t slow in putting two and two together and coming up with “Help!”
“You said Alex. Is he there? Is he causing the trouble?” she asked.
She could only hope the note of irritability she forced into her voice would cover up her fear. “No, no. I’ll be home at the usual time.”
“No, of course not. That wouldn’t make sense. You wouldn’t have used his name if he were there with you,” Kate muttered. “That can only mean you want me to call him.”
“Yup, that’s it. Listen, I’m with a customer and I don’t want to keep him any longer. So stop calling me.”
“I’m out at Brody Oil and Gas. I’ll call Alex. And then Lance and I are on our way.”
“Whatever. Goodbye, Alex.” For some reason, just saying his name out loud helped steady her. Unfortunately, it had the exact opposite effect on the man flicking through the rack of nightgowns. She took a deep breath and asked brightly, “I’m so sorry. Where were we?”
“Ah, yes. This.” He held up a sheer baby-doll nightie in blazing red. “This will look beautiful against your skin.”
“Your fiancée’s skin,” she corrected with a smile. “And if she has hair similar to mine, that particular shade of red will clash.”
He returned the bit of silk and lace to the spiral rack. “A shame. I am quite fond of this particular shade. Perhaps something in green.” He plucked an emerald-green costume at random and slowly approached. “To match my soon-to-be fiancée’s eyes.”
Rebecca froze. She edged backward, but the man moved with lightning speed, putting himself between her and the exit. He flicked the lock on the door and then casually picked up the welcome sign and reversed it. Then he smiled in a way that sent a wave of terror pouring through her veins.
“Paulo Rodriquez, I assume,” she managed to say.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Señorita Huntington.” His cold smile flashed. “But considering how close we’re about to become, why don’t I call you Becca?”
“Because only my friends call me that. And you’re not one of my friends.”
“I could be.” He glided toward her, trapping her against the counter. “I will be.”
“What do you want?”
“Your father owes me a great deal of money. I think it’s time I was paid a small down payment.” He closed in. “Let’s call it…an interest charge.”
Alex hit the sidewalk outside his office building at a dead run. It was faster to walk—or run—to Sweet Nothings than to drive there, Alex decided. Plus, he didn’t want to alert Paulo to his presence until he walked through the door. He didn’t know how Lance Brody had become embroiled in whatever was going on at the lingerie shop, but he owed the other man for calling with the warning. It was a debt that wouldn’t easily be repaid.
The small placard in Sweet Nothing’s window read, “Please visit later” and drove a shaft of fear straight through the core of him. From what he could see of the interior through the tinted glass, the inside stood dark and silent. Gathering his self-control, Alex tried the door. It was locked, but he made short work of that. Even after all these years, some of his less-reputable skills came back with amazing swiftness. Opening the door, carefully so the bell wouldn’t give his presence away, he walked in. For an instant, he didn’t see or hear anything. Then a muffled cry came to him from the small divan in the sitting area of the store.
He didn’t recall moving. One minute he was in the front of the shop, the next he was in the rear with Rodriquez on the floor, bleeding. He glared at Alex through a rapidly swelling eye and ran his tongue across his split lip.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Paulo said.
He’d switched to Spanish, no doubt to keep Rebecca from understanding what he said. Alex decided to accommodate him. “I warned you not t
o touch what belongs to me. You should have listened.”
Paulo shifted and Alex stepped closer, shaking his head. With a groan, the other man settled back on to the floor. “And you should have listened to me, Montoya. I will do whatever I must to have the woman. To have her home. To have the status that once was hers.” He smiled, despite the pain it must have caused him. “To have her in my bed, heavy with my child.”
The image burned like fire in Alex’s mind, no doubt as intended. He forced himself to ignore it, not to allow it to distract him. Just as he forced himself to ignore Rebecca. If he looked at her, he’d lose it. Big-time. “She’s in my home now. In my bed. And that’s where she’s staying. If you want payment for Huntington’s debts, I’m the man to see.”
“You would really pay off his debts, after all he’s done to your family?”
“Yes.” Alex smiled coldly. “Like I said, Paulo. You can’t win. Now get out before the lady presses charges.”
“She won’t do that.” He tossed Rebecca a knowing look. “There’s been enough gossip. If anyone hears about this… Why, they might just wonder whether the lovely Becca is helping her father pay off all his debts. And in a tradition as old as time. Eh, Alejandro?”
“Basta!” Alex ended the conversation by hauling Paulo to his feet and swiftly disarming him. “Where are your men?”
“I’m alone.”
Alex dismissed that with all the contempt it deserved. “You haven’t been without bodyguards since you were twelve. I repeat. Where are your men?”
“Out back.” He fingered his lip and winced. “Next time I will post them at the front door, as well.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time, Paulo. Now get out and take your men with you before I call the cops.”
Paulo shot a lingering glance in Rebecca’s direction before exiting the shop. The instant Alex deemed it safe, he crouched down in front of her and gathered her ice-cold hands in his, rubbing her fingers to warm them. “Are you okay?”
It took her a nerve-racking moment to respond. “Shaken, rattled and rolled. But I’ll survive.”
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