by Caro LaFever
No Jessie.
She couldn’t have… She wouldn’t have…
He raced through the doors leading into the labyrinth of the hotel offices. If he were lucky, and he’d always been lucky, he’d find her before she found…
Nothing.
No one.
Clyde McDowell’s office stood like a silent testament to Nick Townsend’s idiocy. The massive Huon pine desk, taking up the majority of the room, still held the pile of papers she’d been sorting through. Nothing looked any different than when he’d been here an hour ago, urging her to leave.
She’d left.
Except, not with him.
His cell buzzed in his pocket. Taking in a deep breath of relief, he jerked it out and to his ear. “Jessie. Where are—”
“Nick.” His pilot’s voice cut through. “I wanted to check with you.”
His gut clenched. “About what?”
“I’m in the private pilot’s lounge. Caught some gossip.”
“Sí?” Sweat stung in his eyes.
“There’s a guy stating he’s flying a Jessica McDowell to Australia.” His pilot’s voice turned curious. “That’s his new assignment, he says. What’s going on?”
Nick’s mind whirled with dread. Instinctively, he knew this was bad. He shied away from why his Jessie was ordering another plane because he didn’t want to confront the reality. “Fuck.”
“I figured something was up and should let you know.”
A plan popped into his head. A crazy, ugly plan that would probably fail, yet it was the only thing he could think of. “I want you to do something for me.”
“Yeah?” His pilot chuckled. “Don’t tell me. A lover’s spat.”
“Something like that.” If what he thought had happened had happened, it was more likely going to lead to divorce, but what he needed was time. “Talk to that pilot. Tell him it’s a lover’s spat, and I’m on my way. Tell him to delay, and I’ll pay him a fortune.”
His pilot’s chuckle faded. “Not sure that will work, boss. He’s scheduled to leave within the next few minutes and those spots are hard to come by.”
“I’ll be at the airport in less than a half hour.” Pacing down the hallway, he raced across the foyer and out to the limo. “Tell him I’ll make it worth his while.”
“Let’s think here a bit. Unless the guy has a plane like yours, he isn’t going to get farther than Australia.” The pilot hummed in contemplation. “Your plane is faster than his, I’d say. We can fly over ahead of him and meet your wife when she lands.”
“That won’t work.” He knew he’d need more time with Jessie than a chat in an airport. He also knew he needed her in a place she couldn’t walk away from him. Not for awhile. In fact, his brain was already buzzing with an additional plan. “I need another plane—she’ll recognize mine and won’t get in.”
His pilot coughed. “That bad, huh?”
“Sí, Sí.” His mind whirled. “Can you find another plane once we land in Australia? One that can fly her all the way to the US and Nevada?”
“Las Vegas?”
“No, nearby though. A private airstrip you’ve never been to before.” But Nick remembered the location like he’d been there yesterday. “I’ll direct you there.”
“Okay,” the pilot said. “I’ll call ahead. I’ve got contacts. I’ve got an idea on who I can talk to.”
He didn’t employ stupid people, something he was thankful for at this moment. “Any ideas on how we’re going to make this happen?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” His pilot’s voice turned smug. “We’ll lease another plane and get you on it before she arrives. We’ll be all set by the time your wife lands. Just get yourself here to the airport so I can takeoff.”
Nick jumped into the limo, barked instructions, and sat, sweating. Remembering her delight when he’d fed her the mango ice cream. Remembering her laughing in their bed. Remembering the way she looked at him when she’d confided her love.
He couldn’t lose her.
He’d lose himself.
Chapter 28
It had been surprisingly easy. For her entire life, her father had made their traveling arrangements. And then, these last few times, her husband…
Jess tightened her hands in her lap and pushed him out of her mind.
She didn’t need him. She’d proven that during the last few hours.
“We’ll be landing at Sydney Airport in twenty minutes.” The cabin attendant eased into her line of sight, a smile on her face. “Can I get you anything before we arrive?”
“No, I’m fine.” Plastering on an answering smile, she waved to the front. “Did the pilot find a connection to the US for me?”
“Let me check with him.” The attendant paced off.
She’d known when she booked this private plane it wouldn’t get her the entire way home. There weren’t any big enough jets to make that journey from Tasmania. The only one available was Nick’s plane, and that wasn’t an option. But she figured getting to Australia was the first step to getting home, and better than nothing.
Home.
The word rattled in her brain and down into her heart. Because truthfully? She didn’t have a home, did she? Her father was gone, his solid presence in her life a thing of the past. The deal he’d made with her horrible, soon-to-be-ex-husband meant her hotels weren’t her home, either. They were only owned by her if she stayed married.
That wasn’t going to happen.
Being her father’s executor of his estate was something, and he had promised her she’d have ownership in the hotels, but he hadn’t told her everything. He hadn’t told her there were caveats and deals behind the scenes.
I promised your mother I’d take care of you.
Taking care of her apparently meant trussing up a billionaire and delivering him to her on a silver platter.
Just remember you’re a McDowell, and you deserve the best.
She’d thought Nick Townsend was the best. The best lover, the best friend. The man who gave her confidence in her body and in her abilities. She’d thought no man could be better in any way.
Yet, she’d been wrong.
She had not one single doubt about what her father had been thinking. He’d liked Nick, thought he was like himself, and figured this was the man to run McDowell Enterprises into the future. She was a female, when all was said and done, and good for one thing.
Clinching the deal.
No wonder her dad had been so sure of the situation. He didn’t need to worry about his daughter attracting the man. He’d already had him signed and sealed.
Delivered to her.
In exchange for the hotels.
At least, her father had died in peace and wouldn’t see the awful fallout that was going to occur. Because she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be the ugly girl who married the beautiful man. The dutiful daughter who caved into a father’s decree and a husband’s demand.
No. No, no, no.
The wretched reality yawned inside her, cutting out her heart and lungs, cutting apart her dreams and desires.
Every bit of it—a lie.
Brushing a tear from her cheek, she brushed the whole ugly truth away, too. There’d be time enough to come to grips with this when she landed in the US. She had no doubt Nick and his charm would come running, ready to spew nonsense and more lies in order to reel her back in.
Except, she wasn’t going to fall again.
She’d learned a bitter lesson, and she was good at remembering lessons.
If she filed for divorce within the first year, the contract was void. Of course, that also meant she’d lose any hold on the hotels. Nick would lose them, too. They’d be sold to a conglomerate who’d approached her father many times. However, it didn’t matter to her anymore.
The realization stunned her.
All her life, she’d dreamed of running her hotels. If anywhere on earth was home, the McDowell hotels were hers. But she had no interest in them now. They would always b
e tied into the evil deal her father had made with Nick Townsend.
A con man. A charmer.
A man who had sold his soul to gain the hotels. Not her. She’d been merely a gawky, freckled addendum to the contract. Something he’d needed to take on to get what he really wanted and desired.
Querida.
What does that mean?
Wanted. Desired.
His and her words echoed from the past, making her want to weep. Lies. Every word he’d said to her—lies.
The thing is, Jessie, I could buy and sell your precious hotels with a flip of a coin.
They are more valuable than you think.
Yes, they were. His smooth, suave ways had distracted her. Distracted her from thinking about the wealth of antiques littering the walls and halls of the McDowell hotels. Distracted her from calculating the price of the precious real estate they all stood on—in the centers of Paris and London. In the heart of New York City and Tokyo. For an ambitious man like Nick Townsend, her hotels were a mine of jewels strewn across the world.
The only thing he’d had to do was take her.
Staring through the small window, Jess carefully walled off her hurt, the pain. She placed the devastating reality into a tiny compartment of her heart and locked it shut, along with the memory of the contract. By the time the plane had landed in Australia, she was as calm as she’d ever been. So calm she knew nothing would ever disturb her again.
“I’ve arranged for your connection, Ms. McDowell.” The pilot smiled from the doorway of the cockpit.
Something about his smile made her stop. “Did you?”
“Yes.” His smile widened. “You’ll be pleased.”
“Will I?” A tingle of wariness ran up her spine.
She couldn’t understand why. This man knew nothing about her, other than she had money enough to buy his skills and his plane. They’d left less than an hour after her escaping from the hotel and Nick. There wasn’t any way her husband could have contacted this man and made another one of his horrendous deals.
“You will,” the pilot said with confidence. “A friend of mine, who’s also a pilot, owns a new Gulfstream that’s capable of flying you all the way to the States. I’ve booked him for you.”
“Excellent.” Dismissing her worries, she smiled. “I hope we can leave without delay?”
“Well, there’ll be a small wait. But not long.”
Distrust rushed back. Knowing Nick, he wouldn’t laze around on Tasmania. He wouldn’t take this clear rejection without fighting back. Fighting for the hotels. “How long?”
The pilot swept his hat off and ran his fingers over his balding head, as if he were trying to buy some time before answering her question. “I’ll have to talk to my friend.”
Jess hadn’t ever been one to throw money around to get her way, but this wasn’t her usual life at the moment. A frantic trace of fear raced along her skin. Because she knew herself well. She knew if Nick caught up with her right now, she’d be too vulnerable, too defenseless. She needed time to reinforce the wall she’d placed around her heart. There was also the wall she needed to build with lawyers, too. “Tell him I’ll double his fee, if he can be ready to leave within the half hour.”
The pilot’s eyes widened.
“And you’ll get a bonus as well,” she said, her hand tightening on her purse.
“Got it.” He gave her another smile, this one of reassurance.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Yet, what else could she do?
By the time she made her way across the tarmac and into the private lounge, her nerves were trembling. The minutes ticked by in agonizing suspense, with her imagination giving her vivid pictures of Nick appearing in front of her. Nothing happened, though. No charming, cajoling male appeared alongside her when she was ushered onto the new jet. No objection was made by the attendant who smiled at her, too, but with no odd inflection to cause her worry. No one tried to stop her plane as it taxied down the runway.
No one cared that she left.
Left her father and mother, left her soon-to-be-ex-husband, left her hopes and dreams and love behind.
His Jessie slept.
Which he supposed he should be grateful for, because, with any luck, by the time she woke and saw him, they’d be far across the Pacific Ocean, too far to turn around.
Nick sat down across the aisle from her, watching as she breathed in, then out. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he breathed, himself. For many long hours, he sat, just staring, just loving, just worrying.
The first, fraught step had been accomplished.
He had her. Again.
But this was only the first step. He was well aware of that. It was something, though. Something to hold on to.
Sliding his cell out of his pocket, he checked the Nevada weather one more time. Luck had consistently been on his side, and it appeared the lady wasn’t going to change her bet on him. At least, for the moment. The rainstorm barreling through California would likely race across his father’s land at exactly the right moment and turn into exactly what he needed.
A blizzard.
If his luck held, the plane would arrive right in front of the worst of the storm. He’d get his Jessie to the ranch, and then, she’d be stuck.
For days.
Stuck with the other side of his ugly, disgusting family. His father would likely be his usual contemptible self, and would also likely fill Jessie’s head with all of his son’s faults and failings.
But at least he’d have bought time.
Time to convince her he loved her. More than life itself. More than her damn hotels or his cursed heritage. The ranch had been the only thing he could think of, the only place he could take her. The only chance he had. The hand he’d dealt himself was bad; he had no one to blame other than himself.
Yet, at least he’d bought himself a chance.
Leaning back in the leather seat, he tried to relax his stiff muscles.
Useless.
His brain kept circling around his dilemma.
The only reason Jessie would have left was she found out. He hadn’t thought about the office where he’d fallen into this pit of a deal. He’d been too busy trying to get his wife to bury her father and leave cursed Tasmania. Plus, he’d assumed by Clyde’s words and manner, his copy of the contract was to be found in a lawyer’s office or a bank vault. But the place was where the wicked deal had been struck. Apparently, the old man had left the contract, or at least a copy of the contract, in that room.
¿Qué diablo?
What had the man been thinking? How could he have left such a bombshell in plain view, knowing his daughter would likely find it at some point? Had this been some kind of test? Something Nick should have figured out and defused before it blew up in front of him?
Sí, he thought so.
Running through his memories of Clyde, he thought it very likely there was more to this than a mere slip-up. There was something here he needed to prove. Something he needed to understand. The old man wanted him to win Jessie once more, this time with every card laid on the table for all to see.
It was the only thing that made sense.
So he had to prepare for a battle with his wife. He’d have to find the charm and words to cajole her out of this temper. He could do that. He’d been successful at cajoling hundreds of people. The only person who hadn’t fallen for it was his father.
Who he was bringing his Jessie to meet.
“Demonios.” His curse floated across the plane’s aisle to land on his wife.
Her eyes flew open and latched onto him.
Jerking straight, he leaned toward her, attempting a smile. “Jessie—”
“How the hell did you get on this plane?” Those mixed eyes cleared and turned dark with pain and anger.
“Querida.” His heartbeat galloped like an out-of-control stallion, yet he managed to keep his smile. “Wherever you are, I am.”
“Not anymore. And don’t call me that n
ame. It’s as far from the truth as the moon is from Earth.” She stood, her spine rigid. “I’m going to talk to the pilot. We’ll turn back.”
“We’re too far over the Pacific.” Forcing himself, he lounged on his seat. “You’ll just have to endure my presence, mi esposa.”
“I know what that means.” Her eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. “And I won’t be for much longer.”
“No?” He’d been right. She’d found the contract. There was no other explanation for her flight and her attitude and her words. But he needed to play her for awhile, make the time pass and keep her focus on him, not the direction of the plane. “Perhaps you would like to tell me what this running away from me is about?”
“This?” Her hands flew into the air in an arc of disgust. “This fake marriage, you mean?”
His heart shook inside him, as panic slid into his gut. He knew his Jessie. He knew her determined spirit, her pride, her essential distrust of her own worth. All of those traits combined into a powerful wall he’d somehow have to breach.
Dios, his charm had never encountered such a formidable challenge.
But he had no choice. Without her, he would be a husk of his former self.
“There’s nothing fake about our marriage.” He widened the smile. “I have the certificate with me, and you are wearing my ring.”
Her expression turned hard and she snorted in anger when she glanced at her hand. With an impatient tug, the ring came off. “I should have taken this off first thing.”
Before he could say something soothing or suave, she flung the ring at him. The diamond’s sharp edge sliced into his cheek before landing on his lap. “Puto infierno.”
“Oh,” she gasped, her hands reaching out. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”
Cursing again, he reached for a linen napkin lying on the tray of food he hadn’t touched. The white cloth turned red with his blood. “You certainly know how to gain a man’s attention, don’t you?”
Her whole body stiffened in instant rejection. That damn uncertainty of hers rearing its head once more, he knew. If he’d only had more time with her, more time to make her understand how amazing she was in every way. Instead, he had to fight for her without the potent weapon of her knowing her own self-worth and intrinsic beauty.
