But he’d never been hers, had he? They had been like...this outfit. Like Lady Daphne FitzRoy. An illusion.
“So am I,” she said, the tears starting to fall. “So am I.”
Sixteen
Robert called for a ride, which was a novel experience. By the time the driver picked him up, Robert had himself under control. He’d done the right thing. Jeannie might be upset now but he was confident that a woman as worldly and intelligent as she was would see how this was for the best by the light of day.
She still had his jacket, but his vest smelled faintly of oranges.
God, he was tired. Tired of dealing with Landon, worrying about his mother, tired of holding himself back, tired of being Robert Wyatt.
Just be with me, Jeannie had said. Of all the things she’d given him, that might’ve been her greatest gift.
But it didn’t matter how tired he was—his night was just beginning.
Kelly texted just as the car hit Lake Shore Drive.
He’s at your house.
Status?
Speech was a disaster.
Social media is asking if he was high.
Visibly upset.
Banging on your door.
Hasn’t broken anything.
Don’t interfere yet.
Yes, sir.
Robert focused on breathing. Slow. Steady. Orange-scented. Everything was going according to plan. Landon had discovered that his wife, son and a random woman who might or might not have been nobility had all disappeared from his grand kickoff campaign gala. As Robert had hoped, Landon had not taken the news well.
Robert was counting on the next part. He didn’t have long to wait.
He just put a planter through your front door.
Alarm is blaring.
Wait until he gets in
then have him arrested.
Because that was the fail-safe of his plan. He could fund civil lawsuits and give federal investigators access to financial reports but Landon was a slippery bastard and money talked.
Breaking and entering, however, was harder to disprove. Especially when there were security tapes, off-duty officers as witnesses and a son who refused to drop charges.
The driver turned onto Robert’s street. “Here is fine,” Robert said, fishing a hundred out of his wallet. He didn’t know what the tipping protocol was but rare was the person who’d turn down cash.
“Hey—anytime, man! You’re going to get a great rating out of this!”
Robert had no idea what the man was talking about but he didn’t care. As he got out of the car, he could hear his alarm screaming into the night and, underneath that, sirens in the distance.
“Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am?” Landon Wyatt’s screech of rage cut through the noise.
“What’s going on here?” Robert said, aiming for concerned innocence. “Father? What are you doing here?”
“Where is she?” Landon screamed, lurching at Robert.
“Easy, buddy,” the officer said, hauling Landon back. Robert recognized Officer Hernandez; he’d covered the Hernandezes’ outstanding balance for a recent procedure.
Landon’s arms were handcuffed behind his back. The sight made Robert almost smile because it was something he could definitely get used to seeing. “Where is who?”
“You know damned well, you useless bastard. Where is she?”
Robert made a big show of looking up at his dark house. “No one’s home. I just got here.” Kelly sidled up the sidewalk and Robert spotted the reporters, cameras flashing and video recording. “My date got sick and I took her home. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other anymore,” he explained for the audience.
Landon snarled and lunged again. This time the other officer had to use so much force to hold him back that Landon wound up on his knees in the middle of the sidewalk.
“You’ll pay for this,” he said, his eyes bugging out. “By the time I get done with you, you all will wish you’d never been born!”
The officers made as if to haul him up but Robert waved them off. Instead, he crouched down in front of Landon, who was struggling to get to his feet. Robert put a hand on the older man’s shoulder and forced him back down because that was what a Wyatt would do. Dominate. Control.
Robert demanded respect, but right now, from this man, he’d settle for fear.
The older man’s eyes widened with surprise as his muscles tensed under Robert’s hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Robert leaned close. He didn’t want anyone to hear this. “You’ll never see her again.”
“I’ll find her,” Landon barked with a truly maniacal laugh. No wonder everyone at the gallery had been asking if he was high. Robert’s plan was working perfectly. “You can’t keep her safe. You never could. She’s mine! And after I find her, I’ll find that duchess of yours, whoever she was. And I’ll make her pay.” He licked his lips and tried to surge to his feet again. “I can’t wait. Will she scream your name in the end, do you think?”
Robert didn’t allow any emotion to cross his face. But he tightened his grip on the old man’s shoulder, feeling the muscles clench and grind under his hand and he made damn sure Landon stayed down on his knees.
“Do you have any idea how easy it would be to get you out onto a boat and drop you in the middle of the lake?” It was a struggle to keep his voice level, but given the way Landon went rigid with what Robert hoped was fear, he thought he’d done a good job. “But I’m not going to do that because you deserve so much more than a quick, easy death.” He tightened his grip on the old man’s shoulder and by God, he bowed under the pressure. “No matter how hard you look, you’ll never find either of them.”
Robert had lived his entire life in fear of this man but in the end, it wasn’t that hard to take control. He was a Wyatt and that was what they did.
“Try me,” Landon said but the menace had bled out of his voice and instead, he sounded like a man who was starting to realize he’d made a grave tactical error.
Because he had.
“You’re going to be divorced, sued, arrested and tried and, if I have anything to say about it, found guilty on charges of sexual assault, embezzlement, campaign finance fraud, breaking and entering, and God only knows what else my people are uncovering as we speak.” Robert forced himself to stare into Landon’s eyes because Robert was in charge now. It was Landon’s turn to cower because he’d come up against a force he couldn’t dominate. “And we haven’t even rolled Alexander yet. But we will.”
“Sir?” Kelly cleared his throat. Robert was running out of time to say his piece. “Sorry to interrupt but I’ve just received word that Alexander Trudeau has been picked up on charges of money laundering.”
It was hard to tell under the yellow light from the streetlamps, but Robert thought Landon had suddenly gone pale. “See?” he said with a smile. Because now he could smile in front of Landon, just to watch the old man squirm. “Not that hard to roll, after all.”
“You son of a bitch,” Landon said, starting to struggle again. “I’ll get you for this.”
“Oh, you’ll try, but you’ll be busy with the lawsuits and trials. And I do think this marks the end of your career in politics, doesn’t it? Everything you ever had or wanted, gone.” Robert snapped his fingers. “Just like that. And do you know why, Dad?”
Landon glared at him but Robert didn’t feel the usual panic churning up his stomach.
He smiled again, this time for real. “Because this is what you raised me to do.” He let go of the old man’s shoulder and, as he broke that singular point of contact, a sense of finality washed over him. “I hope you’re happy with what you created.”
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. But they were done.
Freed of Robert’s grip, Landon surged up. “I’ll kill you!” he screamed
, flecks of spittle flying off his lips. “I’ll kill that bitch and that whore in front of you and then I’ll end you!”
Robert got ready to throw a punch but then Officer Hernandez and his partner were there. One drew his gun but Robert said, “No need for that, Officer.” Landon straightened and smiled in victory, but then Robert added, “If you have to subdue him, use the Taser.”
Landon screamed in rage but Robert just smiled. God, it felt good to smile.
It felt good to win.
The cops led a struggling, furious Landon to the police car. As they closed the door on what had, just a few hours ago, been the most powerful man in Chicago, Robert straightened his cuffs and stood tall.
Landon Wyatt’s era was over and there would be no redemption tour.
There was a lot of talking after that—Robert gave a statement to the cops and confirmed that, yes, he would like to press charges and yes, his father had a temper but no, he’d never made death threats before and yes, perhaps a restraining order would be a good thing.
He obtained security footage and talked with lawyers and judges and began circulating rumors that Cybil Wyatt had been on the verge of leaving Landon but had been convinced to stay for the campaign but after this...
And even when dawn broke over Lake Michigan and the last star blinked out of sight, Robert didn’t stop because there was so much to do. He had to contact members of the board of Wyatt Medical and make sure that his mother had landed safely in LA and taken off again and he had to do rounds at the hospital.
He couldn’t stop.
Because if he did, he’d think of Jeannie. And if he thought of her, he might not be able to stay away and it wasn’t safe yet. Not yet, damn it all.
Sailboat.
Seventeen
“He’s not going to come back just because you’re back, is he?” Miranda asked as Jeannie grabbed the crate of clean wineglasses. “If he is, I’m not dealing with him.”
“He won’t,” Jeannie replied. “Can you move? This is heavy.” Honestly, could Miranda just give her a little space?
It’d be nice if everyone at Trenton’s could give her a little space on her first night back. Sure, there’d been a cake and a few baby presents but did anyone actually ask about Melissa? Nope. It was all Robert, all the time. Had he contacted her after he’d left the bar? Did she know anything about the all-out war being waged in the press and in the courts between the elder Wyatt and his son? Or, worst of all, what did she make of that mysterious “duchess” who’d appeared on Robert’s arm at the ill-fated campaign kickoff but had disappeared right before everything had gone to hell and didn’t she look familiar?
Maybe Robert had left a bigger mark on her than she’d realized because she had apparently perfected his icy glare. At least she could blame her mood on the baby. Poor Melissa, taking the fall.
But it was fine. Things were always rough after a breakup and this was kind of one.
She was just about to back through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the bar when it burst open, knocking into her. She had to juggle the crate of glasses but she managed not to drop the danged thing. “What the—”
“He’s here!” Julian said in a panic, moving so fast he ran into her again.
Jeannie managed to get the crate of glass onto a countertop because suddenly, her hands had started to shake.
Miranda asked, “Who?” in a terrified whisper, the blood draining from her face.
“Him! Wyatt!”
“Breathe,” Jeannie said. What was he doing here? He’d made it clear they were done and he was protecting her or something by staying away and she wasn’t to wait for him. Done, done, done.
Or not.
“Should we call the police?” Julian asked, hands clutched in front of his chest.
Jeannie rolled her eyes. “For the love of everything holy, no. I’ll handle this.”
She took a second to compose herself. Which wasn’t easy because not only did she have to deal with Miranda and Julian quaking in fear but also the whole kitchen staff had gone quiet, and even the normal sounds of the restaurant and bar were almost nonexistent.
She pushed through the swinging door to find herself squarely in the sights of Dr. Robert Wyatt, in his normal spot. When he saw her, his eyes narrowed and—big surprise—he adjusted his cuffs.
He’d come for her. And to think, there hadn’t been a single star in the sky last night. Not even an airplane she could pretend was a star. But she’d hoped against hope that one day Robert might slide into his seat and order his Manhattan and give her that almost invisible smile and tell her everything was perfect again.
That they could be perfect together, because the time was right.
But Jeannie saw more than that. She saw how he was moving as if his leg was bouncing against the rung of the bar stool. And how, when he wasn’t adjusting his cuffs, he was tapping his fingers on the bar.
How about that. Not only had Robert put in a surprise appearance, but the man was nervous about it, too. None of that mattered, though, because he’d come for her.
Unless something else had gone wrong? That thought led to a sickening drop in her stomach because what if he wasn’t here for her? What if he...just needed a sympathetic ear and a drink?
“Well?” asked Julian from behind the door. “Cops?”
“No, for Pete’s sake. Just leave us—him—alone.” She let the door swing back and heard a muffled yelp. That was what Julian got for peeking. She made her way down the bar. Robert’s intense gaze never once left hers.
“Robert.” She winced. “Dr. Wyatt. The usual?”
“Jeannie.”
For as long as she’d known this man—years now—every word he spoke could either make her fall further in love with him or break her heart.
Dear God, please don’t let the sound of her name on his lips be another heartbreak. She couldn’t take much more.
Then he smiled. That small movement of his lips curving up just at the corners, where no one else would think to look for it. But she saw it. She saw him. Maybe she always had.
Her hands hadn’t stopped trembling but she ignored them as she filled a glass with his Manhattan and added the twist. She had to use both hands to steady it as she placed the drink on the bar.
“Here for your drink?” she managed to get out, proud of the way her voice stayed level. Not a verbal tremble in sight.
“No.” He didn’t even look at his drink. “I’m here for you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Me?” she squeaked. Dammit.
“Us,” he corrected. Before she could process those two little letters—that one measly syllable—he dropped his gaze to a tablet she hadn’t noticed on the bar next to him. “Here’s the thing.”
“Oh?” Her heart began to pound wildly out of control but she didn’t say anything else. He’d get to it in his own sweet time.
He tapped the screen and called up a picture of a...mansion?
“Robert?” If he’d bought her a huge house out of guilt or something, she was going to have to draw the line. She and Melissa did not need a mansion.
“I bought it through a shell company, so there aren’t any names on the paperwork, just to be sure,” he began, tapping more to bring up additional pictures of a gorgeous house with amazing decorating—clean lines, warm colors and not a single shred of tacky wallpaper. “It overlooks the lake and there’s a path down to a small private beach.” More pictures whizzed by—was that an indoor pool? “It’s got a clear view of the night sky—the light pollution doesn’t drown out the stars.” A victorious smile spread across his face. “I made sure of that.”
“Robert,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “What is this?”
He straightened in his chair before straightening his cuffs. “My mother sends her thanks for your help. I put my home in her n
ame so that, when she’s able to come back, she can enjoy the wallpapered ceilings to the fullest extent.”
Oh, God. “Did you...give up your house?”
He nodded once, a quick and efficient movement. But she could tell that his leg was still jiggling and, when he started to straighten his cuffs for the third time in as many minutes, she reached over the bar and took his hands in hers. Behind her, someone gasped. Probably Miranda.
“Robert,” she said again, softly. “Tell me what’s happened.”
A look of need flashed over his face and was gone, replaced by imperial iciness. “I don’t want you to wait for me,” he said in a gruff voice.
None of this made sense. There was something going on here, something that would tie the houses and his jumping leg and his very straight cuffs together and she was missing it.
“I will,” she told him. “As long as it takes, I will.”
He shook his head firmly and said, “No, I mean...wait.” He took a deep breath and then, miracle of miracles, laced his fingers with hers. “I was supposed to stay away from you because Landon still has a lot of power and if he knew who you were, you’d be in danger and you...” Jeannie’s heart kicked into overdrive. “You’re very important to me.”
“Oh?” He wasn’t the only one who could wield single syllables in a conversation, dammit.
He stared down at their hands. “I’ve never been in love so I don’t know for certain that this is that. But I need you. I need to see you every day so I can talk to you and you can make me laugh and touch me and make me feel...right. I don’t feel right without you anymore and I tried. I tried,” he repeated, sounding mad about that.
No, she couldn’t imagine that Dr. Robert Wyatt tried and failed at too many things. Her eyes began to burn and this time there was no lake breeze to blame it on.
“But then I realized that by staying away from you to keep you safe, I was still letting him win because he still dictated what I did and how I did it and you know what?”
“What?” she said breathlessly. Why was there a stupid bar between them? Why wasn’t he in her arms for this—this—this declaration of love? Because that was what it was.
Seduction on His Terms Page 16
