One Month with the Magnate
Page 2
Several million dollars of the money they had stolen had never been recovered. For all he knew, she had it stashed somewhere. Of course, if she had been planning to run, wouldn’t she have done it by now? Or was she waiting to cut a deal for her mother, then intending to skip town?
It was something to keep in mind.
“Be ready at seven,” he told her. “Your thirty days will start tomorrow. Agreed?”
She nodded, chin held high. She wouldn’t look so proud when he put her to work. Isabelle had never lifted a finger to do a thing for herself. He was sorry he wouldn’t be home to witness what he was sure would be a domestic disaster.
The thought almost made him smile.
“Do you need a ride back to the hotel?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I borrowed my mother’s car.”
“That must be a change for you. Having to drive yourself places. It’s a wonder you even remember how.”
He could tell that she wanted to shoot back a snarky comment, but she kept her mouth shut and her eyes all but dared him to give it his best shot. She was tough, but she had no idea who she was dealing with. He wasn’t the naive, trusting man he’d been before.
He stood and she did the same. He reached out to shake on the deal, and she slipped her finely boned hand into his—her breath caught when he enclosed it firmly, possessively. Though she tried to hide it, being close to him still did something to her. Which was exactly what he was counting on. Because bringing her into his home as a housekeeper was only a ruse to execute his true plan.
When they were together, Isabelle had insisted they wait until they were married to make love, so he had honored her wishes for a torturous year. Then she left him high and dry. Now it was time for some payback.
He would seduce Isabelle, make her want him, make her beg for it, then reject her.
By the time he was through with her, prison would seem like Club Med.
Two
“Is that who I think it was?”
Emilio looked up from his computer to find Adam Blair, the current CEO of Western Oil, standing in his office doorway. He should have known word of his visitor would get around fast. Her disguise—if that had been her intention with the ridiculous clothes, the straight, lifeless hair and absence of makeup—not to mention the fake name she had given the guards when she insisted on seeing him, obviously hadn’t worked. When he saw her standing there in the lobby, her shoulders squared, head held high, looking too proud for her own good, he should have sent her away, but curiosity had gotten the best of him.
Emilio had warned Adam months ago, just before news of the Ponzi scheme became public, that he had a past connection to Isabelle. But he’d never expected her to turn up at his office. And he sure as hell hadn’t considered that she would have the audacity to ask for his help. She was probably accustomed to getting exactly what she wanted.
“That was Isabelle Winthrop-Betts,” he told Adam.
“What did she want?”
“My help. She wants her mother’s name cleared, and she wants me to talk to my brother on her behalf.”
“What about her own name?”
“She more or less admitted her guilt to me. She intends to take full responsibility for everything.”
Adam’s brows rose. “That’s…surprising.”
Emilio thought so, too. With a federal prosecutor for a sibling, he had heard of every scheme imaginable from every type of criminal. Freely admitting guilt wasn’t usually one of them. Isabelle was clearly up to something. He just hadn’t figured out what. He had considered that she and her mother were planning to take the unrecovered money and disappear, but why bother exonerating her first? Maybe he could gain her trust, encourage her to tell him her plans, then report her to the authorities.
“So, will you help her?” Adam asked.
“I told her I would talk to Alejandro.” Which he still had to do, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Also surprising. The last time we talked about her, you seemed awfully bitter.”
Not only was Adam a colleague, he was one of Emilio’s closest friends. Still, he doubted Adam would even begin to understand his lust for revenge. He wasn’t that kind of man. He’d never been betrayed the way Emilio had. Emilio would keep that part of his plan to himself. Besides, Adam would no doubt be opposed to anything that might bring more negative press to Western Oil.
What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Call me sentimental,” Emilio said.
Adam laughed. “Sorry, but that’s the last thing I would ever call you. Sentimental isn’t a word in your vocabulary, not unless it’s regarding your mother. Just tell me you’re not planning on doing something stupid.”
There were many levels of stupid. Emilio was barely scratching the surface.
“You have nothing to be concerned about,” he assured Adam. “You have my word.”
“Good enough for me.” Adam’s cell buzzed, alerting him that he had a text. As he read it, he smiled. “Katy just got to the house. She’s staying in El Paso for a few days, then we’re driving back to Peckins together.”
Katy was Adam’s fiancée. She was also his former sister-in-law and five months pregnant with their first child. Or possibly Katy’s dead sister’s baby. They weren’t sure.
“Have you two set a date yet?” Emilio asked.
“We’re leaning toward a small ceremony at her parents’ ranch between Christmas and New Year’s. I’ll let you know as soon as we decide. I’d just like to make it official before the baby is born.” Adam looked at his watch. “Well, I have a few things to finish before I leave for the day.”
“Send Katy my best.”
Adam turned to leave, then paused and turned back. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”
Emilio didn’t have to ask what he meant. Adam obviously suspected that there was more to the situation than Emilio was letting on. “I’m sure.”
When he was gone, Emilio picked up the phone and dialed his brother’s office.
“Hey, big brother,” Alejandro answered when his secretary connected them. “Long time no see. The kids miss their favorite uncle.”
Emilio hadn’t seen his nephews, who were nine, six and two, nearly often enough lately. They were probably the closest thing he would ever have to kids of his own, so he tried to visit on a regular basis. “I know, I’m sorry. Things have been a little crazy here since the refinery accident.”
“Any promising developments?”
“At this point, no. It’s looking like it may have been sabotage. We’re launching an internal investigation. But keep that between us.”
“Of course. It’s ironic that you called today because I was planning to call you. Alana had a doctor’s appointment this morning. She’s pregnant again.”
Emilio laughed. “Congratulations! I thought you decided to stop at three.”
“We did, but she really wanted to try for a girl. I keep telling her that with four boys in my family, we’d have better luck adopting, but she wanted to give it one more try.”
Emilio couldn’t imagine having one child now much less four. There had been a time when he wanted a family. He and Isabelle had talked about having at least two children. But that was a long time ago. “Are the boys excited?” he asked his brother.
“We haven’t told them yet, but I think they’ll be thrilled. Alex and Reggie anyway. Chris is a little young to grasp the concept.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Estefan,” Emilio asked, referring to their younger brother. Due to drugs, gambling and various other addictions, they usually only heard from him when he needed money or a temporary place to crash. Their mother lived in fear that one day the phone would ring and it would be the coroner’s office asking her to come down and identify his body.
“Not a word. I’m not sure if I should feel worried or relieved. I did get an email from Enrique, though. He’s in Budapest.”
Enrique was the youngest brother and
the family nomad. He’d left for a summer backpacking trip through Europe after graduating from college. That was almost three years ago and he hadn’t come home yet. Every now and then they would get a postcard or an email, or he would upload photos on the internet of his latest adventures. Occasionally he would pick up the phone and call. He kept promising he’d be home soon, but there was always some new place he wanted to visit. A new cause to devote his life to.
Emilio and Alejandro talked for several minutes about family and work, until Emilio knew he had to quit stalling and get to the point of his call. “I need a favor.”
“Anything,” Alejandro said.
“Isabelle Winthrop will be checking out of her motel this evening. As far as your office is concerned, she’s still staying there.”
There was a pause, then Alejandro muttered a curse. “What’s going on, Emilio?”
“Not what you think.” He told his brother about Isabelle’s visit and his “agreement” with her. Leaving out his plan to seduce her, of course. Family man that Alejandro was, he would never understand. He’d never had his heart broken the way Emilio had. Alana had been his high school sweetheart. His first love. Other than a short break they had taken in college to explore other options—which lasted all of two weeks before they could no longer stand to be apart—they had been inseparable.
“Are you completely out of your mind?” Alejandro asked.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“If Mama finds out what you’re up to, she’s going to kill you, then she’s going to kill me for helping you!”
“I’m doing this for Mama, for all of us. For what Isabelle’s father did to our family.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that Isabelle broke your heart?”
A nerve in his jaw ticked. “You said yourself that she’s guilty.”
“On paper, yes.”
“She all but admitted her guilt to me.”
“Well, there’ve been developments in the case.”
Emilio frowned. “What kind of developments?”
“You know I can’t tell you that. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this, period. And I sure as hell shouldn’t be helping you. If someone in my office finds out what you’re doing—”
“No one will find out.”
“My point is, it won’t just be your job on the line.”
He hadn’t wanted to pull out the big guns, but Alejandro was leaving him no choice. “If it weren’t for me, little brother, you wouldn’t be in that cushy position.”
Though Alejandro had planned to wait until his career was established for marriage and kids, Alana had become pregnant with Alex during Alejandro’s last year of law school. With a wife and baby to support, he couldn’t afford to stay at the top-notch school he’d been attending without Emilio’s financial help.
Emilio had never held that over him. Until now.
Alejandro cursed again and Emilio knew he had him. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.”
“I’ll be honest though, and you did not hear this from me, but with a little more pressure from her lawyer, we would have agreed to a deal on her mother’s charge. She would have likely come out of this with probation.”
“Isabelle’s lawyer told her you wouldn’t deal.”
“It’s called playing hardball, big brother. And maybe her lawyer isn’t giving her the best advice.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Is he a hack or something?”
“Not at all. He was Betts’s lawyer. Clifton Stone. A real shark. And he’s representing her pro bono.”
“Why?”
“She’s broke. All assets were frozen when she and Betts were arrested, and everything they owned was auctioned off for restitution.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah. It was weird that she didn’t fight for anything. No clothes or jewelry. She just gave it all up.”
“I thought there was several million unrecovered.”
“If she’s got money stashed somewhere, she’s not touching it.”
That could have simply meant that the minute her mother’s name was cleared, she would disappear. Why pay for a top-notch defense when she wouldn’t be sticking around to hear the verdict? The crappy motel and the outdated clothes could have all been another part of the ruse.
“So why is her lawyer giving her bad advice?”
“That’s a good question.”
One he obviously had no intention of answering. Not that it mattered to Emilio either way.
“Are you sure this is about revenge?” Alejandro asked.
“What else would it be?”
“All these years there hasn’t been anyone special in your life. What if deep down you still have feelings for her? Maybe you still love her.”
“Impossible.” His heart had been broken beyond repair, and had since hardened into an empty shell. He had no love left to give.
Emilio had a beautiful house. But Isabelle wouldn’t have expected any less. The sprawling stucco estate was located in one of El Paso’s most prestigious communities. She knew this for a fact because, until she married Lenny, she used to live in the very same area. Her parents’ home had been less than two blocks away. Though she was willing to bet from the facade that this was even larger and more lavish. It was exactly the sort of place Emilio used to talk about owning someday. He’d always set his sights high, and it looked as though he’d gotten everything he ever wanted.
She was happy for him, because he deserved it. Deep down she wished she could have been part of his life, wished she still could be, but it was too late now. Clearly the damage she had done was irreparable. Some people weren’t meant to have it all, and a long time ago she had come to terms with the fact that she was one of those people.
Not that she was feeling sorry for herself. In fact, she considered herself very lucky. The fifteen years she had been married to Lenny, she’d had a pretty good life. She had never wanted for a thing. Except a man who loved and desired her, but Lenny had loved her in his own way. If nothing else, she had been safe.
Until the indictment, anyway.
But she would have years in prison to contemplate her mistakes and think about what might have been. All that mattered now was clearing her mother’s name.
The limo stopped out front and the driver opened the door for her. The temperature had dipped into the low fifties with the setting sun and she shivered under her light sweater. She was going to have to think about getting herself some warmer clothes and a winter jacket.
It was dark out, but the house and grounds were well lit. Still, she felt uneasy as the driver pulled her bag from the back. He set it on the Spanish tile drive, then with a tip of his hat he climbed back into the limo. As he drove off, Isabelle took a deep breath, grabbed her bag and walked to the porch, a two-story high structure bracketed by a pair of massive white columns and showcased with etched glass double doors. Above the door was an enormous, round leaded window that she imagined let in amazing morning light.
Since Emilio knew what time she was arriving, she’d half expected him to be waiting there to greet her, but there was no sign of him so she walked up the steps and rang the bell. A minute passed, then another, but no one came to the door. She wondered if maybe the bell was broken, and knocked instead. Several more minutes passed, and she began to think he might not be home. Was he held up at the office? And what was she supposed to do? Sit there and wait?
She had a sudden sinking feeling. What if this was some sort of trick? Some sick revenge. What if he’d never planned to let her in? Hell, maybe this wasn’t even his house.
No, he wouldn’t do that. He may have been angry with her, he may have even hated her, but he could never be that cruel. When they were together he had been the kindest, gentlest man she had ever known.
She reached up to ring the bell one last time when behind her someone said, “I’m not home.”
Still a jogger. Back in college, he’d been diligent about keeping in shape. He’d even convinced her to go to the gym with him a few times, but to the annoyance of her friends, her naturally slim build never necessitated regular exercise.
He stepped up to the porch and stopped so close to her that she could practically feel the heat radiating off his body. He smelled of a tantalizing combination of aftershave, evening air and red-blooded man. She was torn between the desire to lean close and breathe him in, or run like hell. Instead she stood her ground, met his penetrating gaze. He’d always been tall, but now he seemed to tower over her with the same long, lean build as in his youth. The years had been good to him.
He looked at her luggage, then her. “Where’s the rest?”
“This is all I brought.”
One dark brow rose. A move so familiar, she felt a jab of nostalgia, a longing for the way things used to be. One he clearly did not share.
“You travel light,” he said.
Pretty much everything she owned was in that one piece of luggage. A few of her mother’s fashion rejects and the rest she’d purchased at the thrift store. When the feds had seized their home, she hadn’t tried or even wanted to keep any of the possessions. She couldn’t stand the thought of wearing clothes that she knew had been purchased with stolen money.
The clothes, the state of the art electronic equipment, the fine jewelry and priceless art had all been auctioned off, and other than her coffee/espresso machine, she didn’t miss any of it.
Leaving the bag right where it was—she hadn’t really expected him to carry it for her—Emilio turned and punched in a code on the pad beside the door. She heard a click as the lock disengaged, and as he opened the door the lights automatically switched on.
She picked up her bag and followed him inside, nearly gasping at the magnificence of the interior. The two-story foyer opened up into a grand front room with a curved, dual marble stairway. In the center hung an ornately fashioned wrought iron chandelier that matched the banister. The walls were painted a tasteful cream color, with boldly colored accents.