by Kristi Gold
After Paris collapsed against him, Dallas rubbed her back and felt a strong sense of peace, like this is where they belonged. Like the way love might feel.
Whoa. He sure as hell wasn’t going to go there yet.
“Did you enjoy that?” Paris whispered in his ear.
“Hell yeah. I always like new adventures.”
She lifted her head and smiled. “So do I.”
He brushed her hair away from her cheek. “Darlin’, get ready for all the adventure you can handle.”
* * *
For the past three weeks, the adventures had kept coming like hits on a radio. She’d learned to ride a horse—kind of—spent three days holed up in a cabin in Wyoming with Dallas and attended a country music award ceremony on his arm in Nashville.
Paris couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun, or so much fantastic sex. No place had been off-limits, from hot tubs to home-theater chairs to pickup trucks. And yesterday, when she’d walked in the office to show Dallas the latest plans for the lodge, she ended up with her dress hiked up to her waist and her panties down at her ankles while her husband ravished her on his desk without taking off his boots.
Memories of those moments brought about a blush when she returned to the office today and came face-to-face with both the mothers. “It sure is getting hotter outside,” she said as she entered the opening at the counter.
“Hotter inside, too,” Maria muttered while Jenny giggled. “Real hot yesterday.”
Mortified, Paris rushed toward Dallas’s study, hurried inside, closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. “They know.”
Dallas glanced up from a document and frowned. “Know what?”
She walked to his desk and collapsed into the chair. “They know what we did in here yesterday.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because Maria just made a comment about it being hot inside when I said it was hot outside.” She snapped a finger and pointed. “You pressed the intercom and told Jenny to hold all your calls and I bet the button got stuck. You need to get that fixed before we do it in here again.”
He grinned. “Darlin’, are you ready for another round?”
Yes. “No. I came here to tell you to schedule the groundbreaking for the lodge next week. I’ve been working with the architect and we’ve almost finalized the design. If you have a few minutes, I want to fill you in on the details.”
He stood and rounded the desk. “We might not be ready to build yet, but that’s still cause for celebration.”
When he bent down and nibbled her ear, Paris shivered. “Stop it, you bad, bad cowboy, and let your fake wife tell you about the lodge.”
He pulled her out of her chair and brought her into his arms. “You like me when I’m bad, Mrs. Calloway.”
“And you like me bad, too, Mr. Calloway.”
“That I do.”
Just as Dallas planted his mouth on hers for a hair-curling kiss, the pesky intercom sounded. When the buzz repeated twice, Paris pulled back. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“Do I have to?”
“It could be important.”
He looked thoroughly put out. “You’re right. I have an appointment in about fifteen minutes with a supplier. He’s probably early, dammit.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. “I suppose I’ll see you at the house for dinner.”
“Yep, and when I get there, be naked.”
“I can do that.”
He let her go to depress the pesky button. “Yeah, Jen.”
“There’s someone here to see your wife.”
Dallas sent her a confused look, prompting Paris to say, “I’m not expecting anyone.”
“Who is it, Jen?” he asked.
“Maybe she should just come out here, sugar.”
“A name, Jen,” Dallas said. “Stop beatin’ around the bush.”
“He says he’s her husband.”
Nine
From the panic on Paris’s face, Dallas figured she hadn’t expected this blast from her past. “What the hell does he want?”
“I have no idea,” she said as she started toward the door. “But I’m going to find out.”
“Don’t go out there,” he said as he pushed the button. “Send him in, Jen.”
When she spun, fear flashed in her eyes. “I need to handle this myself.”
“Fine, but I want to be there when you do.” In case he needed to take matters into his own hands with the bastard.
The loud rap obviously startled Paris, sending her around to open the door to a lanky, blond-haired guy wearing a prissy pink polo shirt, chinos and a smirk. “Hello, Paris.”
“Hello, jerk.”
Dallas wanted to applaud when the idiot reached for her and she sidestepped him. He also wanted to punch the guy and wasn’t ruling that out.
Paris held on to the doorframe but didn’t invite him into the room. “Why are you here?”
He leaned over and eyed Dallas. “I have information that would interest you and your new husband.” He had the nerve to push past Paris, stride to the desk and stick out a bony hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet the other husband.”
Dallas ignored the gesture. “Pleasure’s all mine, Dick.”
“It’s Peter.”
“Whatever. Now state your business and get the hell out of here.”
The bastard dropped his arm and sneered. “You might not be so quick to dismiss me once I say what I have to say.”
He fought the urge to wrap a hand around that skinny neck and toss him out. “Hurry up.”
“Dallas, could I have a few moments alone with him?” Paris asked.
No way. No how. “Not on your life, sweetheart. But I am going to step out and tell Jen to reschedule my appointment.” He intended to tell her more than that. “In the meantime, don’t say anything to him until I get back.”
He hated to leave Paris alone, but he didn’t trust the son of a bitch or his motives. For that reason, he strode to the reception area and gestured Jen aside. “Do you still have that digital recorder?”
She looked a little clueless. “Yes. Why?”
“Because as soon as I get back in there, I want you to turn it on and press the intercom. Can you handle that?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I also want you to go outside, call the sheriff on your cell phone and have him send a deputy over to be on standby.”
Now she looked alarmed. “Are you afraid he’s going to harm you, sugar?”
“No. I’m afraid I might hurt him. And I’m also thinking he might be up to no good.”
He turned around to head back to the office and hoped like hell Jen followed his instructions to a tee. If the bastard tried to pull anything at all, at least they’d have proof and the law on their side.
When he entered the room, he found Paris seated in the chair under the window while the ex roosted in the one across from the desk. They both sat silent like they’d been engaged in a standoff.
Dallas decided to stand next to his wife. “Okay, the floor’s yours, Pete,” he said. “Have at it.”
The guy crossed one leg over the other, looking every bit the wimp he was. “How much do you know about Paris, Mr. Calloway?”
“All that I need to know,” he answered before Paris could open her mouth.
“Then she told you about her criminal history.”
“I don’t have a criminal history,” Paris shot back. “I covered for yours.”
Dallas didn’t care for where this was heading. “What is he talking about, Paris?”
“He embezzled funds from our former employer,” she said. “He led them to believe it was all my idea, which it was not. I’m only guilty of being
gullible and stupid.”
The SOB let go a grating laugh. “Don’t play innocent, Paris. You had no problem spending the funds that I borrowed from the company.”
“You mean stole, don’t you?” Paris scooted up to the edge of the chair. “I didn’t have time to spend a dime other than what we needed for bills. I was too busy working. You, on the other hand, were hitting on every woman in Vegas. They reaped the benefits of your ill-begotten gains and now I’m charged with paying off your debt or risk going to jail.”
Dallas wasn’t at all pleased that Paris had withheld this level of information. “Looks like I’m a walking example of ‘the husband is the last to know.’”
“About that husband thing,” Peter chimed in. “There’s a bit of a problem with that.”
Dallas leveled his gaze on the bastard. “What kind of problem?”
“Paris and I are still married.”
* * *
A strong wave of nausea hit Paris, driving her to take a few calming breaths before she could respond. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple,” Peter said. “I didn’t complete the divorce process in the Dominican Republic for leverage.”
Dallas released a few unflattering oaths aimed at the once-believed-to-be-ex-husband. He then turned his obvious anger on her. “You told me you had the documents, Paris.”
She’d never felt so hopeless, or foolish, in her life. “I did. I do.”
Peter’s laugh sounded maniacal. “Since I knew you know very little Spanish, I sent you a record of a civil lawsuit that I obtained from the internet and I altered a photo of the official record from the Dominican Republic to include our names. You should have hired an attorney to protect your interests, dear. You did have that option.”
She had the strongest urge to dump him out of the chair. How could she have been so blind to believe he was a decent guy when she’d married him? Easy. He’d been a chameleon and a con, and she’d been a naive girl. “I spent all the money I had left on attorney fees to stay out of jail, all because of you.”
“Someday perhaps you will learn not to be so trusting, Paris.”
She had another urge to slap that condescending grin off his face but settled for a verbal slug. “You should get help for your short man’s syndrome, although it does apply in every sense of the word, you miscreant con artist.”
Dallas took a step toward Peter. “You could’ve told her this in a phone call, which leads me to believe you’re up to something.”
“I considered calling,” he replied. “But I couldn’t be certain she would tell you everything.”
Paris shot out of the chair. “You’re the liar, not me.”
“What do you want?” Dallas asked, his fists balled at his sides.
“Well, for starters,” Peter began, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want this scandalous secret to taint your good name. If you give me fifty thousand dollars, I won’t go to the media and tell them you married another man’s wife. A hundred thousand buys Paris a proper and legal divorce so you two can resume your life together.”
Before Paris could react, Dallas had Peter by the collar and backed up to the wall. “Listen, you son of a bitch, I strongly suggest you take your blackmail attempts and get the hell out of here before I forget there’s a lady present and I throw you out the window.”
For the first time she saw fear in Peter’s eyes. “It’s your choice. If I don’t have the money by tomorrow, in cash, I will notify the press. As far as the divorce is concerned, it’s immaterial to me what you do. It’s no skin off my nose to stay married to the most gullible woman I’ve ever known.”
Dallas balled his fist but before he could throw a punch, someone said, “Don’t do it, Calloway, or I’ll have to arrest you, too.”
Paris looked straight ahead to see a deputy filling the doorframe, Jenny cowering behind him.
Dallas shoved Peter toward the officer. “Did you get it all recorded?” he asked Jenny.
“Every bit, sugar.”
He addressed the deputy then. “Did you hear it, Rowdy?”
The man patted his rounded belly. “Every word, Dallas.”
The deputy stepped toward Peter and withdrew a pair of handcuffs. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
Peter stood in stunned silence for a few seconds. “Why are you arresting me? He should be cuffed for assault.”
“I don’t see any signs of assault,” Rowdy said as he turned him around and snapped the cuffs into place. “You, my man, are in a heap of hot water.”
Peter shot a menacing look in Paris’s direction. “What are the charges?”
“Extortion. Embezzlement,” Rowdy answered. “Take your pick. You want me to lock him up, Dallas?”
“Not yet.” He stared at Peter for a long moment. “I’ll make you a deal, Pete. If you never show your face here again, I’ll let you slide for now. But if I ever lay eyes on your sorry self, and if I learn you uttered one word about this to even the clerk at the convenience store, I’ll have you thrown in jail so fast your head will spin. I’ll also play your confession to your former boss.”
Peter practically cowered. “All right.”
“And as far as that divorce goes,” Dallas continued, “I want you back on a plane to finish the procedure and I plan to hire that lawyer to make sure you follow through this time. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Rowdy, get him out of my sight before I forget why I didn’t coldcock him the minute he opened his mouth.”
As the deputy led Peter away, Paris waited for the shock to subside before facing Dallas again. “I am so, so sorry.”
His somber expression spoke volumes. “Sorry about which part? That we’re not legally married or that you lied to me about your past?”
She should have seen this coming. “I didn’t exactly lie about the theft at the firm since I legally couldn’t tell you. When Peter left the country before he could answer to the allegations, both parties signed a nondisclosure in exchange for my agreement to pay off the debt. My former employer was convinced I played some role, but I swear I didn’t.”
“You mean to tell me that you lived and worked with the man and you didn’t know a damn thing about it?”
His distrust burned like a hot poker to the heart, though she couldn’t exactly blame him under the circumstances. “I didn’t have a clue because we had separate checking accounts. He was double billing vendors and depositing the excess in various places. Of course, he did give me funds to pay his half of the bills, so in essence I did benefit from his illegal activities, but I didn’t know that’s what I was doing.”
Skeptical would be the best way to describe the look Dallas gave her. “Well, darlin’, at least you won’t have to worry about getting our divorce now. You’re free to go do what you please.”
She expected him to be angry. Livid even. But not to be totally written off. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“I’m being practical.”
His attitude absolutely floored her. “Look, I understand why you’re upset. I even understand why you might question my role in the embezzlement. But I can’t quite comprehend after all we’ve been through why you can’t give me the benefit of the doubt when I afforded you that courtesy over the annulment issue. I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me.”
“You just did, by deceiving me. Lying by omission is as bad as a bald-face lie.”
She truly wanted to scream. “So that’s it? All the time we’ve spent together means nothing?”
“If you’re worried about losing the money I fronted you, keep it. Keep the car, too, since I sold the old one for scrap. I’ll even give you a good reference for what you’ve already accomplished on the lodge design.”
“I don’t want your money or the car o
r the job. I also don’t want any more of your excuses.”
“Excuses?”
“You’ve been looking for an out and I handed it to you on a silver platter. In fact, you lied to me when you said you wanted to see where our relationship might go. You never had any intention of making this marriage work. You only told me that to keep me in your bed.”
“That’s not true, Paris.”
“Oh, really? Well, listen up, cowboy. You were right when you said you don’t know how to commit because committed couples weather the storms and forgive all the flaws. But then you don’t know the first thing about forgiveness because you certainly haven’t forgiven your father. Since he’s a blood relative, and I’m little more than your playmate, I don’t stand a chance.”
Before she started to cry, she had to leave. But she still had one more thing to tell him. “Even after knowing what I know about you now, I still believe in you, because Dallas, I’ve fallen in love with you although that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I only wish you believed in me, too. I’ll be out of here tonight.” She removed the wedding band from her finger and laid it on the desk. “Have a nice life.”
As she walked away, tears began to flow, yet she managed to get outside before the dam completely burst. She left the Mercedes parked in front of the office and started to the house on foot, hoping that maybe Dallas would come to his senses and come after her. But by the time she reached the front door, she realized that wasn’t going to happen.
Now all she had left were the memories, a few mementos, some money and a severely shattered heart.
* * *
“What in the hell are you doing, mijo?”
An hour after the sorry scene, Dallas turned from the office window to see the mothers filing into the room, led by Maria, along with a band of merry brothers. All his brothers—Austin, Tyler, Houston, Worth—except one. Judges and jury members all wrapped into one family unit, thanks to his matriarchs’ role as family criers.
“Why are you all here?”
“We’re here to talk to you about Paris,” Maria answered.
