Sandra Marton - Taming of Tyler Kincaid

by The Taming of Tyler Kincaid

  Espada.

  "Jonas is willing Espada to me," she'd told him, and when he'd looked into her eyes, he'd known she was telling him something she thought wonderful.

  Tyler stood still, his arms at his sides, his head bowed. They said a drowning man's life flashed before his eyes but he knew now that you didn't have to feel your lungs filling with water for that to happen. The old man was naming her the heir to Espada, she'd said, and Tyler had seen a score of images blaze to life inside his head. Himself, the night of his birthday party. The private investigator, when he'd promised to get all the facts. Jonas, boasting of how he'd tormented his first wife by telling her he'd give her child away. Caitlin, oh, Caitlin, her lovely face taut with passion as he took her vir­ginity.

  And, at the last, he'd seen the face of a woman he'd never known, a woman who'd given her life for his.

  How could he abandon Juanita Baron? How could he dis­miss her sacrifice and walk away? Closure? Closure didn't matter anymore. He'd come looking for some sordid little tale about a girl who'd gotten herself knocked up but he'd found a story that might have come out of the old Greek tragedies. A despairing wife. A cruel husband. A child whose first breath was taken as his mother's last breath left her body...

  "Oh, God," Tyler whispered, lifting his face to the sky.

  If he took Espada, he would break Caitlin's heart.

  If he didn't, he'd never be able to live with the knowledge that he'd failed the woman who'd given him life.

  He turned and stared blindly back at the house, at the patio where he'd held Caitlin in his arms and made love to her.

  If only he'd told her everything that morning. The truth about himself. About his past, as ugly as it was. About what he intended to do. What he had to do. Most of all, most of all, he should have told her that he loved her.

  She loved him, too. He knew it. Her love for him had shone in her eyes. Her kisses had tasted of it.

  All right. She loved Espada. But maybe—maybe, she loved him more.

  Tyler drew a deep breath, then let it out.

  He'd sat in the dark, listening to her sweet voice on his answering machine. That first message, bright and joyful. The second, less certain but still loving. And the last message, when she'd said she'd understand if he didn't return her call...

  Hell, no. She didn't understand. How could she? And how could he simply turn his back and walk away from her?

  "I love you, Cait," he whispered.

  The words seemed foreign as he spoke them. He'd never said them to another woman. Hell, he'd never said them to another human being.

  She did love him. She did. He was sure of it. Okay. Okay, he thought, as he ran his hands through his hair, he wasn't sure. How could he be, when he'd never let her say the words, never said them to her?

  It wasn't too late. But it was risky.

  What if he was wrong? If she didn't love him? If what he'd seen glowing in her face was just the joy of a woman sexually fulfilled?

  Tyler swallowed hard. He'd never know, unless he asked. Unless he took the risk. Dammit, he'd spent his life risking his neck, risking his wealth and his corporations. Admitting his love for Caitlin, counting on her love for him being its equal, would be the greatest risk he'd ever taken. If he was wrong...

  If he was wrong, he'd lose her. But he'd lose her anyway, if he did nothing. And if he was right and she loved him, if she'd stand by him, once she knew the truth...

  Tyler jumped into his truck, put it in gear and took it to its top speed in nothing flat.

  Marta flung open the door as Caitlin came up the steps.

  "There you are," she said, and put an arm around her step­daughter's shoulders. "We held lunch for you."

  Caitlin smiled. "You shouldn't have bothered. Actually I'm not even hungry."

  "Actually," a deep voice said, "you're as skinny as a bean­pole, sugar."

  Caitlin squealed with delight and launched herself into Slade Baron's arms. "Slade," she laughed. "Slade, what a wonderful surprise."

  "You just turn around, darlin', if you want to feast your eyes on a really wonderful surprise."

  Caitlin spun out of Slade's arms. "Travis?"

  "You bet," Travis Baron said, grinning as he opened his arms to his stepsister.

  "Listen here, babe. You want the best surprise of all? Just take a gander at me."

  Caitlin clapped her hand to her heart. "Gage," she said, and flung her arms around the neck of her youngest brother. "Gage, I can't believe it!"

  Jonas, standing behind his three sons, gave a gravelly laugh. "Didn't I tell you I had somethin' special for you, missy?"

  "Yes, but I never dreamed..." Caitlin smiled, kissed Travis again, grabbed hold of Gage and Slade and led them into the library as Marta made a discreet exit. "What are you guys doing here? How'd you all manage to get away at the same time? Where are Alexandra, and Natalie, and Lara? Gage, where's my gorgeous new niece? And Slade, where's my beautiful nephew? Travis, isn't Alex due any day now?"

  The Barons all laughed. "That's our Catie," Gage said. "Always askin' a hundred questions in the time it would take most folks to ask one."

  Caitlin sat down in the middle of a leather sofa. Slade took up residence in one corner, Travis in the other. Gage pulled the straight-back chair out from behind Jonas's desk, swung it around, straddled it and folded his arms along the top.

  "Jes' make yourselves at home," Jonas said sarcastically.

  His sons looked at each other. "Thanks," Slade said lazily. "We already have." He cleared his throat. "So, Catie darlin', how're you. doin'?"

  Not so good, she almost said, but caught herself in time. This unexpected visit was too wonderful to spoil and besides, her love life wasn't her stepbrothers' problem.

  "I'm doing just fine." Her smile took in all three of them. "And you guys?"

  "Oh, fine," Gage said.

  Travis and Slade both nodded. "Fine," they said, in unison.

  "And my wonderful sisters-in-law? My nephew? My niece?" She looked at Travis. "Do we get to know the sex of yours ahead of time, or what?"

  He grinned. "Alex wants to do this the old-fashioned way. She told the doctor to keep the information to himself."

  Caitlin laughed. "Good for her. Oh, I wish they'd all come with you. I wish..." She saw the three men glance at each other and the realization came, hard and fast. This wasn't just a visit, it was a meeting. She looked at Jonas. "Jonas? Is this about—is it about—"

  "Espada." Jonas nodded as he opened a bottle of bourbon. "It sure is."

  "Oh." Color rushed to her face. It was silly, but she sud­denly felt flustered. "You told them?"

  "I did."

  She looked at the faces of the men she loved as much as if they really shared the same blood, hoping to read something in their expressions, but she couldn't.

  "Guys, look, if any of you has changed his mind, if you want Espada, I'll understand. I mean, I'll be pleased, because you all certainly deserve the land more than I do—"

  "Sugar," Slade said gently, "we couldn't be happier."

  She nodded. "I'm glad, because I'd never want to take any­thing from any of you."

  Gage reached out and took her hand. "We're happy for you, Catie."

  Travis leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Damned right we are," he said gruffly, and shot a hard look at his father. "It's just too bad it took so long for our old man to come to his senses."

  "Came to m, didn't I?" Jonas said. "That's what counts."

  "Yeah," Slade said, "but only after you got jerked around by some no-account con man from Atlanta—"

  "Slade," Travis and Gage both said, but it was too late.

  "Hell," Slade mumbled. "I didn't mean... Catie, Sugar, I shouldn't have—"

  "Tyler," Caitlin said, and wondered how she could sound so calm and cool when her heart was lifting into her throat. "You're talking about Tyler Kincaid."

  "Well, go on," Jonas said. "Tell her."

  Slade took a deep breath. "Yeah. We're talking about
that son of a bitch, Kincaid." He reached for her hand and clasped it tightly in his. "The bastard took you in, Caitlin. I wish there were some easier way to say it, but—"

  "Took me in, how?"

  Again, the sound of her own voice surprised her. Maybe it was because whatever her brothers were about to tell her would be no surprise. Oh, the details might be, but in her heart she'd known all along that Tyler was too good to be true. That such a strong, passionate, tender man should have come into her life had to have been either a miracle or a mistake, and she'd always known that life didn't deal in miracles.

  "Took me in, how?" she repeated, as she took her hand from Slade's and rose to her feet.

  Her brothers looked at each other. Gage cleared his throat. "He wants Espada."

  "No." Caitlin looked from one unsmiling face to the other. "No, you're wrong about that. He doesn't want—"

  "He does." Travis cleared his throat, too. "Seems they found oil in the west range. Lots of oil. It's gonna bring in a lot of money."

  "Jonas?" Caitlin turned to her stepfather. "Is that true? How come you didn't tell me?"

  "Only got the final reports a couple o' weeks ago," Jonas said. "I didn't want to say nothin' till I was sure and by the time I was, Kincaid was sniffin' around this place like a dog after a lost bone."

  "Sniffing around me, you mean," Caitlin said quietly. The room was warm but her skin prickled as if a chill wind were blowing. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at her brothers. "Jonas warned me. He said Tyler was after more than me, but I wouldn't listen."

  "Oh, darlin'," Travis said softly, and rose to his feet. "Ca­tie—"

  "No. No, I'm fine. Just tell me the rest. There's more, isn't there?"

  Gage stood up. "Nothing you need to hear, sweetheart. Jonas says you've broken up with the bastard, so—"

  "I haven't," she said, with her head held high. "He's bro­ken up with me. And you're wrong, I do need to hear it. Tell me the rest."

  Slade sighed and rose from the corner of the sofa. "The son of a bitch has a woman, back in Atlanta."

  Caitlin couldn't help it. A soft moan slipped from her lips and she slapped both hands over her mouth, as if to keep in the cries that might follow it.

  "A woman," she repeated quietly.

  "Name of Aay-dreee-anna," Jonas said, drawing out the syllables as if the name were part of some complex, foreign tongue. "Jes' the type you'd figure him for. Looks like one of them models in a magazine."

  "Beautiful," Caitlin whispered. "Sophisticated. Elegant."

  Gage, Travis and Slade shared another look. We're going after Tyler Kincaid, the look said, and when we find him, we're going to beat the crap out of him.

  "Phony as a three-dollar bill," Travis said coldly.

  "All surface," Slade said, "no substance."

  "They deserve each other," Gage added grimly, and the

  brothers nodded.

  "You cannot believe the story the man made up," Jonas said. His sons and his stepdaughter looked at him and he shook his head and sighed. "Nobody would."

  "You mean, that he was a drifter?" Caitlin said quietly. "Or—or that he was interested in me?"

  "Catie," her brothers said, but Jonas's voice overrode theirs.

  "You all know 'bout that grave up on the hill, that it's the restin' place of my first wife, who died in childbirth." He paused, looked at their faces and gave a deep sigh. "I loved that woman with all my heart. It damn near killed me, losin' her, along with my firstborn. It was a black day in my life. Now here we are, all these years later, a no-account liar named Tyler Kincaid comes walkin' onto my land. My land," Jonas said, thumping his chest, his voice rising, "and tells me he's gonna tell my kith an' kin a trumped up story of how my firstborn didn't die, a story that makes him out to be that child—­

  "What?" Caitlin said. "What?"

  "That's exactly what I said. I said, `What are you talkin' about, Kincaid?' An' he laughed and said he'd found out about the oil on Espada, an' if I didn't sign the ranch over to him, he'd tell the world this ugly lie, that he'd drag the Baron name through the mud."

  "But that's crazy." Caitlin looked at her stepfather. "He's Tyler Kincaid. He's got more money than he knows what to do with. He—­"

  "What he's got is the pedigree of a mongrel dog. He ain't nobody. Even the name `Tyler Kincaid' is a lie."

  "That's one hell of a performance, old man."

  Everyone in the room turned around. Tyler stood in the doorway, dressed as Caitlin knew she'd always remember him, in a black T-shirt, faded jeans and boots, his hands on his hips and a look of contempt curled across his mouth.

  "It's so good," he said, with a cold smile, "that I'm almost tempted to believe it myself."

  "Git off my land, Kincaid," Jonas said. His three sons started forward with fury in their eyes but Caitlin ran past them, to Tyler.

  "Tell me Jonas is wrong," she whispered. "Tyler?" She looked up at him, at the man to whom she'd given her heart.

  "Tell me he's wrong."

  "He can't." Jonas's voice was cold. "Ain't that right, Kincaid? You can't tell her I'm wrong, cause I'm not."

  Caitlin put her hand on Tyler's arm, felt the power of the tightly coiled muscles beneath his skin.

  "Please, Tyler." Her voice broke. "Tell me it's all a lie. What Jonas said. About you claiming you're his son. About you not really being somebody named Tyler Kincaid..."

  Tyler touched the back of his hand to her cheek. "I can't do that, Cait."

  A sob ripped from Caitlin's throat. "I loved you," she said brokenly, "oh God, I loved you!"

  "Cait," Tyler said urgently, "listen to me. Let me tell you the whole story."

  "You've told our sister enough stories," one of the Barons said, but Tyler ignored him.

  "Caitlin," he said, "I love you."

  "He's lyin'," Jonas said.

  "Did you hear me, Cait?" Tyler's voice was low and rough. "I love you. I've never said those words to another woman. Only to you."

  Caitlin wanted to believe him. Oh, she wanted to believe that Tyler's kisses, his whispers, his caresses had been the truth, that he loved her as she loved him...

  "Is there a woman waiting for you in Atlanta?" she said. "A woman named Adrianna?"

  A muscle knotted in his jaw. "Yes. But it's not—"

  Her hand whirred through the air and cracked against his cheek.

  "Get out," she sobbed. "Get out, get out, get out!"

  Tyler looked down into Caitlin's tear-stained face. Now was the time to tell her, to tell her brothers, everything. His brief­case was in his truck. All the proof he needed was inside it. All he had to do was get it and he'd destroy Jonas, wipe those looks of hatred from his sons' faces.

  But the truth wouldn't take the emptiness from Caitlin's eyes. It wouldn't change the fact that he'd planned to gain Espada and destroy it. And, all at once, he knew that the things he'd come here for today—the destruction of Jonas Baron, vengeance for himself and for the woman who'd borne him­—were insignificant.

  The only thing that mattered, that could change his life, was the love he'd found in Caitlin McCord's arms.

  "Cait," hesaid, his eyes only for her, "Cait, if you ever loved me, then love me now. Trust me. Give me your hand and come with me."

  He almost thought she was going to do it. He saw, just for a second, the love shining in her tear-studded eyes, just as he'd seen it the last time he'd held her in his arms. But then her brothers stepped forward and surrounded her. Travis stood to her left, Slade to her right. Gage took up position behind her and put his hand on Caitlin's shoulder. She lifted her hand and lay it over Gage's.

  "Cait?" Tyler said.

  The look on her face was all the answer he needed.

  He turned, a man whose heart had been ripped from his chest, and walked from the house and down the steps. He reached his truck, opened the door.., and stopped. No. Hell, no. He wasn't going to let it end like this. He loved Caitlin. She loved him. He was going back into that house a
nd if he had to fight all three of her brothers, he'd do it. He'd do what­ever he had to do to get her alone, to make her listen.

  He'd taken Caitlin McCord out of this house by force once before and, by God, he'd do it again.

  Tyler swung away from the truck, started back to the house... and the front door opened.

  "Tyler," Caitlin cried, "Tyler, wait."

  A smile lit his face as she flew down the steps toward him. "Cait," he said, and caught her in his arms. "Cait, sweet­heart... "

  Her brothers ran out the door. "Kincaid, you son of a bitch," one of them yelled.

  Tyler could feel the adrenaline pumping. He pushed Caitlin behind him and stood ready to take the Barons on. Suddenly Jonas pushed past his sons.

  "Caitlin," he roared, "Caitlin, you get back here..."

  The old man clutched his chest and teetered at the top of the steps. Then he tumbled down them, hit the ground and lay still.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE hospital was big and modern. It had a brand-new cardiac care wing that had been built with the money of half a dozen oil-and-cattle rich Texans. Each benefactor had some part of the wing named for him. A small atrium. A patient library. A roof garden. A chapel.

  The waiting room had been named for Jonas. Tyler won­dered at the irony of the Barons gathering in a room named for the clan's head as they waited to hear if the old man was going to live or die. The greater irony was that he should be seated among them. He didn't give a damn what happened to Jonas. And he knew Jonas's sons would rather have had a rattlesnake in their midst than him, but none of that mattered.

  Caitlin wanted him here. That was all he cared about.

  He'd stood back as Jonas's sons, his wife and stepdaughter knelt beside the old man after he'd fallen. He'd kept his dis­tance when the ambulance came and Jonas was taken away. Marta had ridden with her husband. Caitlin's brothers had climbed into one car and called out to her but she'd taken Tyler's hand, her face white and stricken.

  "Stay with me," she'd pleaded, and after that, the hounds of hell couldn't have kept him from her side.

  Her brothers had started to object but they must have seen something in his face because one of them said this was a stupid time to stand around and argue. A short while later, they'd all crowded into the waiting room. Not that the room was small. On the contrary. It was handsome and expansive, but the place seemed packed, just the same.