Okeydokey then. Her new boss had gone in the direction of the study, so she would just scoot back there, knock on the door, grab her jacket, then be out of his hair.
In and out.
But when she went down the hall, her body started doing the jitterbug about seeing him, heart racing, stomping.
Cool it, she told herself. In and out.
She came to the study, noticing that the door was ajar just enough for her to hear his voice. And, Heaven help her, she couldn’t resist standing there a second to bask in the appreciation of how he sounded while talking to someone on the phone.
But the more she listened, the more she felt the bass of his voice scratching down her skin, leaving her hair to rise and the heat to play all over her. She thought of what it might be like to see him smile, just once.
Would it feel like a rolling ball of sun inside her stomach? A burning ache that sizzled and made her go weaker than she was even now?
Then he stopped talking, and the person on the other end of the speakerphone started.
The different voice—still appealing, but not nearly as much as Zane Foley’s—was enough to kick her right out of fantasyland.
She rolled her eyes at herself, then prepared to knock just before her boss responded to the other person on the phone.
“I hired another nanny today.”
Melanie’s fist paused in midair.
So help her, she stood rooted there, waiting for what he might say, curiosity killing the cat.
The voice on the other end of the line laughed. “How long’s this one going to last, Zane?”
He cut him off. “Not amusing, Jason.”
Zane’s brother, and, according to everything she’d read, the scamp of the three siblings. But he also had the more solid reputation of being the hardworking chief operating officer of Foley Industries—a man who wasn’t above getting dirt underneath his fingernails or on his fine suits.
Zane was still talking. “And this time, don’t you dare suggest that we bet on her longevity.”
“Damn,” Jason said, “because if I bet she wouldn’t even last a year, just like most of the others, it’d be a smarter proposition than anything Granddad ever put his money on.” There was a pause. “So what’s this one like? Can you tell me that much?”
In spite of her better judgment, an all-too-human Melanie leaned closer to the door.
Zane was standing by a window with a showcase view of downtown Dallas, across from the gleaming Trinity River. He wasn’t sure how to answer his younger brother’s question about what he thought of Melanie Grandy.
Should he be honest?
There was something about the new nanny that made him want to tell Jason about her bright hair and brighter smile, even though he knew he wouldn’t.
With any luck, he would never see her much, anyway. Staying away from Tall Oaks was best for Livie and him.
“This nanny,” he finally answered, “enjoys using art to bring out the creativity in children. She likes dance especially, and I think that’ll be good for Livie. Ms. Grandy’s got a lot of…spirit.”
Jason, as perceptive as he was, called Zane out.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“That’s all you’re gonna get.” Zane turned away from the window and headed toward his desk. It was second in size and comfort only to the one in his downtown Dallas office, where he would be right now if it hadn’t been for the interview. “Now, I suspect you didn’t call to gab about nannies, Jace. What’s on your mind?”
“The McCords.”
Zane could almost picture his brother behind his own desk in Houston, as his voice lowered to a more serious tenor. They’d all spent too many years sharing an intense dislike of the other family for Zane not to recognize the signs of a very serious discussion about them coming on.
“Travis gave me a heads up about something I thought you’d want to hear, too,” Jason said. “It’s about his ranch.”
God, the ranch. The property had sparked a feud between the families way back when Grandpa Gavin had put the West Texas land up for grabs during a poker game that a card cheat named Harry McCord had been manipulating. To add insult to injury, the place had produced silver—the foundation for the McCord jewelry store empire, which catered to the rich and famous and was renowned worldwide as the height of luxury—the premier jewelers of the earth.
“What about the ranch?” Zane asked, an edge to his question. “We signed a long-term lease for the land after the mines were played out. The McCords have no reason to be sniffing around it just yet.”
Of course, the McCord matriarch, Eleanor, had once been courted by Zane’s father, Rex, so that might’ve had something to do with the olive branch the other family had offered. And one would think that her generosity would’ve defused the feud, but her husband, Devon, a devil who was surely getting his just desserts now, after his recent death, had still kept the animosity alive with all his talk about how he’d “won” Eleanor and Rex had lost.
“But,” Jason said, “they do seem to be sniffing, and if Grandpa Gavin were still alive, he’d be yelling like thunder. We didn’t all pitch in and make that ranch what it is, only so he could live his last years there. Dad accepted the lease because he thought you, me and Travis would benefit from what it could yield.”
“Damned straight.” Zane would sooner brave the fires of hell, before he saw the McCords relocate Travis, who’d decided to forgo family business in favor of ranching on the property that should’ve belonged to the Foleys in the first place. “It’s just like the McCords to rub salt on a wound. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just trying to remind Travis that they’re the ones who still own the property.”
“And they’ve got to know it burns him, with all the blood and sweat he’s put into it.” Jason’s tone grew even angrier. “But I’m not sure it’s just about reminding Travis of what’s what. The McCord kids are taking after the old man after all.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, when Devon passed from that heart attack, the clan actually backed off for a while. He was always the one who took the greatest pleasure in the feud. That’s what I thought, at least. Now I’m not so sure. Rumor has it that the family lawyers have been taking a real long look at the lease…”
Zane didn’t even have to hear the rest.
“…just as if they’re trying to find a way to get out of it.”
His blood ran hot at the notion of his baby brother losing what meant the most to him.
He wanted to strike out at the McCords, but as his gaze fixed on the portrait of Livie, he pulled his temper back.
Again, he saw Danielle in his daughter.
Living with a bipolar wife had taught Zane that losing his head only made everything worse. Retreating—whether it was into work or into himself—had been the best way to handle her.
She’d also taught him that there was a difference between his personal life and business. In the latter, he could uncork the frustration that built up at home, striking quickly and lethally during deals, allowing him a sorely needed outlet.
And the McCords were just asking for it.
Dragging his gaze away from Livie’s image, he refocused on the old family portrait above the fireplace. There was a measure of serenity at seeing the picture that’d been painted just before his mom, his daughter’s namesake, had suffered a fatal fall during a horseback ride. His father had tried his best to raise the three boys on his own, but they’d missed their mom terribly.
And sometimes her death even made Zane wonder if all the women in his life would leave before their time.
At any rate, her absence had bonded all of them, and it had molded Zane into a man early on, as he’d taken up where his father had to leave off in raising Jason and Travis. Even now, at the age of thirty-six, Zane felt as if he was still in charge of so much: their holdings, their tanglings with the McCords.
Jason was speaking again: “At first, I wasn’t sure why t
he McCords would be so interested in the ranch right now. I thought maybe they wanted to sell off the acreage, if those rumors about money trouble in their jewelry business are true. But then, what difference would that relatively small cash influx make? Then I thought about the silver mines on the property.”
“Those are abandoned, Jace. Tapped out. That’s why the McCords leased the land to us.”
“I take it that, during this latest nanny search, your ear hasn’t been to the ground.”
He stiffened until Jason chuckled, revealing that he’d only been injecting a little humor where some was sorely needed. But Zane took his duties as oldest brother seriously. Having the McCords get the best of them during his watch was never going to happen.
“One of my assistants,” Jason said, “heard that Blake McCord has been buying up as many loose canary diamonds as possible on the world market.”
Diamonds?
Zane started to see where his brother might be going with this.
Jason added, “I imagine you’re remembering those news reports from several months ago?”
“The Santa Magdalena Diamond,” Zane said. He’d filed the information in the back of his mind, way behind Livie and other more urgent matters, but he sure as hell hadn’t forgotten.
A flawless, forty-eight-carat canary gem with perfect clarity, the Santa Magdalena Diamond was legendary, said to transcend even the beauty and brilliance of the Hope Diamond itself. Supposedly, the piece had been mined in India, and was cursed, because it had resulted in bad luck for everyone who ever owned it. It was only when the gem rested with its rightful owner that any personal misfortunes would end.
The diamond had been missing for over a century, but fairly recently, divers had uncovered a wrecked ship that was supposed to have been carrying the jewel, in addition to other treasures of murky origins.
Really, the only reason the Foleys were interested in the diamond was because their great-grandfather, Elwin Foley, had been on that ship, which might have also been populated by thieves, although that never had been proven. When the transport went down, a few passengers had survived, including Elwin, and according to family stories, he’d snagged the gem, along with a jewel-encrusted chest of coins. But since no one had found either object since, the tale had passed into legend.
However, the ship’s recent discovery had resurrected all the rumors, especially since the diamond and the chest hadn’t been located.
“The Santa Magdalena Diamond came to my mind, too,” Jason said. “I’ve been going through a lot of scenarios, but the best I can figure, maybe the McCords believe that Elwin Foley did get away with the gem when he survived the wreck, and he hid the diamond somewhere on the land where Travis’s ranch is located now—land that used to belong to Elwin before it passed to Gavin, who lost it in that poker game. And don’t you think the Santa Magdalena would pay a few bills for a cash-strapped business?”
“The theory’s a stretch,” Zane said.
“But the timing’s pretty telling. The divers find the shipwreck, rumors recirculate about Elwin taking the diamond, then the McCords express a heightened interest in the property.”
“Whatever their intentions, I’m not about to let Travis be hassled by that family.”
“Glad you’re on board then.” His brother sounded as confident as ever.
Zane shot a skeptical glance at the phone. “What exactly did I board, Jace?”
Right about now, his sibling was probably grinning to himself about one of his genius ideas that kept Foley Industries in the black. “If the McCords want to give us trouble, I say we find out about it ahead of time. Cut them off at the pass.”
“Your lawyer friends—the ones who got you that information about the McCords looking into the lease—will only get us so far.”
“Exactly. I’ll be taking matters into my own hands until we know Travis isn’t in for some harassment.”
Zane waited for it.
“The McCords have a few soft spots,” Jason said, elaborating. “One of them is named Penny.”
Penny. Penelope McCord. Zane recalled one of the daughters of the other family—the quiet twin in a set of burnished blond-haired sisters. A jewelry designer who basically kept to herself.
In a contest between her and Jason, the so-called lady killer, she had no chance at all.
“What are you intending, Jace?” Not that Zane had sympathy for any McCord, but…hell, a lady was a lady, and there were limits.
“Nothing fancy. I just discovered we’ll be attending the same wedding pretty soon. I’ve done business with the groom, so he invited me to his big, high-society bash. I figured I might just happen across her table, sit myself down for a rest, offer my own sort of olive branch in polite conversation…”
“…and feel her out for what she might know, without being too obvious about it.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, and when Jason didn’t say anything, Zane knew he was probably in his desk chair, relaxing with his hands behind his head, content with the plan.
“Okay,” Zane added. “A wedding sounds like a good place to casually learn if the McCords have discovered the location of the diamond, and to find out just how true these rumors about the McCords’s finances are.”
“And if that wedding should turn into something afterward…”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “Jace.”
“I’m talking about a coffee date—or whatever.”
No, his brother was talking about more than that. Zane knew how Jason loved his women, especially ones as lovely as Penny McCord.
Zane was just about to mention it, when he heard something outside the door.
“Wait a sec,” he said to his brother, then went over to check on the noise.
But…nothing.
Still, he thought he smelled a hint of sunshine-like perfume that traced the rough edges of his heart until it felt about ready to fall out of him.
Steadying himself, he closed the door to the dim hallway—and to the very idea of sunshine, too.
Melanie was halfway through the drive to Austin when her nerves finally settled.
She’d only managed to calm down by gazing out the black-tinted window at the passing scenery, as well as chattering with Monty, the town car driver, who, as she now very well knew, had four daughters with tempers as quick as their mama’s and tastes way beyond his table wine budget.
The conversation almost made her forget that she’d been standing in a hallway and eavesdropping on her boss. And that her boss had only said that she was…“spirited.”
She tried not to let that bother her, but it did. Deep inside, she’d been hoping to hear Zane Foley say that she had a great smile. She’d been wishing for a lyrical description that would’ve belonged in a song, like maybe there was something in the way she moved….
Right. Anyway, after telling herself that she was being eleven kinds of fool, she’d found that she was sitting there still listening to him and Jason talking about the McCords.
And the Santa Magdalena Diamond.
If Melanie hadn’t been confused and intrigued by her new boss before, she sure was now. Since she hadn’t been living under a rock, she’d heard about the diamond and how it had been connected to the recent shipwreck discovery. Hearing Zane and Jason discuss all of it just piled one more question upon the other questions that had been weighing in her brain about the Foleys.
Monty glanced in the rearview mirror, checking on her during a lull in their talk. On the downhill side of his thirties, he had thick-lashed, dark eyes that tipped up at the corners in perpetual good humor, dusky skin scraped by a five-o’clock shadow, and a long nose that topped a smile.
“You need me to turn the air on higher?” he asked.
She crossed one leg over the other, aiming her body in his direction and away from the window. “No thank you. It’s just…”
“Come on, spill it out to me. Long rides go by a lot quicker with a good discussion.”
He was too nice to shut out, but she
wasn’t going to “spill” anything about Zane Foley.
“I remembered that I left my suit jacket back at the house,” she said instead. “Excellent start, don’t you think? Mr. Foley probably believes I don’t have a brain in me.”
Laughing, he shrugged. “Listen, once I fill up my stomach with leftovers from Cook’s fridge, I’ll be turning this baby right back around, to be on standby for Mr. Foley in Dallas. I’ll fetch that jacket for you and make sure you get it soon enough.”
“Really? I hate to be such a bother.”
He made a dismissive gesture, and she thought it was sincere.
She told him where she left the jacket, before adding, “Must be nice for Mr. Foley to have a driver whenever he needs one. He’s worked for it, I know, but what perks, huh?”
He rested his hand on top of the steering wheel. “Mr. Foley doesn’t take nearly the advantage of his good fortune as I would. Sure, he has a great place in Austin, but he uses it to house Livie more than anything else. He’s never around to enjoy it. And he has that nice town home, too. But with his money? It could’ve been a castle.”
“He never comes to Tall Oaks?”
“No. He’s not there much at all. Birthdays, Christmas, an annual fundraiser for the Dallas Children’s Hospital, and that’s about it. Mr. Foley’s a busy man, but he gives Livie what she needs otherwise.”
Yes, nannies.
Yet, as Melanie had told her boss, she wasn’t one to judge, and she needed to keep that in mind.
Monty seemed to have shut himself off from saying any more about it, so Melanie decided to pursue another avenue.
Then she would stop. Really.
“Funny how life works. I mean, if Harry McCord hadn’t cheated in that card game with Gavin Foley, the Foleys might’ve been the ones with the jewelry empire that the McCords developed.”
“True,” Monty said. “There were five abandoned silver mines on that property. Five. That’s a lot of cannoli they missed out on because their grandfather made a bad bet.” He chuckled. “But, depending on who you talk to outside the family, you’re going to get a different story about that poker game.”
The Texas Billionaire’s Bride Page 3
