Читать книгу Dying for You - BEVERLY BARTON, Beverly Barton - Страница 8

“CARA, SWEETHEART, ARE you listening to me?” Grayson Perkins asked.

“Huh?” She wasn’t paying any attention to Gray. She was too busy watching Bain Desmond, sitting three tables over, and hating the way he was smiling at his companion. She wanted to scratch the petite brunette’s eyes out.

“I said we need to finalize plans for your trip to Ameca.”

“Ameca?”

“Are you feeling all right? You don’t seem to be yourself this afternoon.”

Forcing her gaze away from the ruggedly handsome police detective and that brunette hussy, Cara Bedell turned to her brother-in-law. Former brother-in-law actually. Grayson Perkins had been married to her older sister, Audrey.

“I’m fine, just preoccupied with business.” The business of keeping tabs on Lt. Desmond. She had lunch every Friday at the Hair of the Dog pub because she knew Bain would be there and it was her only chance to see him, even if from a distance.

“If there’s something wrong, something bothering you, and you want to discuss it, you know you can count on me to listen.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “You must know how much I care about you.”

She eased her hand from his. “It’s nothing, really.” She looked directly at Gray. He was much too handsome, too tanned, too buffed and polished. He had the same kind of old-time movie-star good looks that had made her grandmother’s generation swoon over matinee idols. “But I suppose we should discuss my trip to Ameca.”

“Good, good. You realize that if you can pull off this deal with either Senor Delgado or Senor Castillo, you’ll prove once and for all that you’re definitely Edward Bedell’s daughter.”

Cara offered him a halfhearted smile. She knew he’d meant it as a compliment, about being Edward Bedell’s daughter. Her father had been a genius at the art of making money, as had generations of Bedell men before him. But the patriarchal line had ended with her father. She was the last of the Bedell line and she had been trying for the past few years, since taking over the reins at Bedell, Inc., to give back to the world instead of simply taking, as her family had been doing for the past hundred-plus years.

The pending oil deal promised a new source of oil to the United States and would no doubt make hundreds of millions for both Bedell, Inc. and whichever Amecan oil company she chose. If Cara had her way, one fourth of the profits would be reinvested in the people of Ameca. The country’s population was divided into the haves and have-nots, but in unequal proportions. The haves who ruled the small South American country consisted of less than three percent of the population. There were two major oil producers in Ameca: Delgado Oil and Castillo, Inc. Both were eager to do business with Bedell, but Cara was leaning toward Delgado because of the owner’s sympathy for the people of his struggling nation. Of course, Cara wouldn’t have known anything about either Delgado or Castillo without the input of Lexie Murrough Bronson, who headed the international charity organization Helping Hands, which Bedell, Inc. funded. Lexie had done her homework and presented Cara with the facts several months ago.

“Your meeting with Senor Delgado is set for mid-September,” Gray reminded her. “That gives you only three weeks to pull together all your facts and figures, arrange for me to take over your duties while you’re away and decide whether or not you’re going to meet with Senor Castillo while you’re there.”

“You think I should set up a meeting with Tomas Castillo, don’t you?”

Gray nodded. “You could at least listen to what he has to say. After all, you owe it to the shareholders to broker the best deal possible for Bedell, Inc.”

Cara heaved a resigned sigh. “I know you’re right. It’s just that Castillo has a reputation, if true, I can’t condone. But if I meet with him, I can report to the board that I met with the heads of both oil companies. That should satisfy them.”

Gray grabbed her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “I’ll miss you terribly while you’re away, but someone has to stay here and keep the good ship Bedell afloat.”

She wiggled her hand, trying to free it from his tight grasp. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he looked longingly into her eyes.

“You know I adore you, Cara. When are you going to put me out of my misery and marry me?”

Oh, God, not again! For the past few months, Gray had begun pursuing her relentlessly, begging her to marry him. For nearly a year after Audrey died, he had asked her at least once a month. The second year, he had pulled back and reassessed the situation, proposing only three times. As time went by, his pursuit became more subtle and the proposals diminished to no more than three a year. She had hoped he had finally given up and accepted their relationship for what it was, and for what it would always be—a friendship based on family ties and a business association. But a few months ago, he had once again declared his undying love for her and since then hadn’t given her a moment’s peace.

Cara managed to free her hand. She looked at Gray with what she hoped was warmth and caring. After all, she was fond of Gray and oddly enough felt sorry for him. She knew he didn’t love her, that although he had loved her sister in the early years of the marriage, what Gray loved most in this world was Gray. His love for the Bedell sisters was rooted in his love for the Bedell fortune. But Gray was family. Her father had loved him like a son. And at one time, when she’d been younger and very foolish, Cara had thought she was in love with him. Despite all his faults, she still had a soft spot in her heart for him and always would. And because of her father’s training, Gray was a good businessman and had become an asset to Bedell, Inc.

Why couldn’t Bain Desmond be lured by the Bedell billions the way most other men were? Why was it that she could probably have any man she wanted—correction, she could probably buy any man she wanted—except the one man she loved?

She glanced across the room. Bain and his date were leaving. Her gaze took in every inch of the brunette. Five-three, slender, delicate and totally feminine.

“Cara, sweetheart.” Gray wanted an answer to his proposal.

How many ways can a woman say no? She supposed telling him that she wouldn’t marry him if he was the last man on earth wasn’t really an option. She would never hurt Gray that way.

The words No, Gray. I’m very fond of you, but I won’t marry you were on the tip of her tongue. But before she could speak, she sensed someone approaching their table. When she looked away from Gray, she saw Bain and the brunette coming toward them. Her heart did an erratic rat-a-tat-tat just because he was so close. She could easily reach out and touch him.

“Afternoon,” Bain said, his expression totally emotionless as he glanced from Cara to Gray and back to Cara. “How are you, Ms. Bedell?”

“I’m fine, Lieutenant. How are you?”

“No complaints.” He cupped his companion’s elbow. “Ms. Bedell, Mr. Perkins, I’d like y’all to meet my sister, Mary Ann Nelson.”

His sister! Cara could barely contain her joy. She wanted to jump up and hug Mary Ann.

Gray rose to his feet and nodded curtly to Bain’s sister. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Nelson.”

“Thank you,” Mary Ann replied.

Cara smiled warmly at the attractive brunette. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Mary Ann returned Cara’s smile. “Bain speaks very highly of you, Ms. Bedell. I’m happy that I finally have this chance to meet you in person.”

Apparently Bain had confided in his sister. But exactly what had he told her? There’s this billionaire heiress I’ve got the hots for, but because I’m an old-fashioned, macho kind of guy, I could never get seriously involved with her. And God forbid that I marry her and adapt to her opulent lifestyle. I’m the kind of man who needs to be the breadwinner, to wear the pants in my family.

“Are you staying in Chattanooga long?” Cara asked.

“Just for the weekend. Keith and I brought the children to visit their Uncle Bain and while we’re here we’re taking in some of the local attractions. Keith has them at the aquarium right now, giving Bain and me a chance for some brother-sister time. Tomorrow, we’re going to Rock City and riding the Incline.”

If she and Bain were actually a couple, she would invite his sister and her family to her home for dinner. Heck, she’d invite them to stay with her. God knew she had more than enough room at the Bedell estate.

“I’ve got to be back at headquarters in fifteen minutes,” Bain reminded his sister.

Mary Ann smiled warmly, offering Cara an I-know-how-important-you-are-to-him farewell glance.

Bain’s gaze connected with Cara’s for a millisecond, just long enough for a current of electricity to pass between them. Then the moment ended and Bain and Mary Ann were gone, heading out the door. As he sat down, Gray watched her watching Bain.

“He’s the reason we have lunch here every Friday, isn’t he?” Gray said, a resentful tone in his voice. “Ever since he came into our lives to investigate Audrey’s disappearance and murder, your feelings for me have changed.”

“I’m not going to discuss Bain Desmond with you.”

“Why not? It’s more than obvious that he’s the reason you won’t marry me.” Gray shook his head in disgust. “What you see in that uncouth ruffian, I’ll never know. It’s apparent he doesn’t return your feelings and it’s rather pathetic the way you moon over him. I’d think you had more pride and dignity than to—”

“Shut up, Gray.”

“I’m sorry if—”

“My feelings for Lieutenant Desmond are my business, not yours. And the reason I won’t marry you is because I’m not in love with you.”

“Yes, I know.” Gray heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “But we could have a marriage based on other things. Love is highly overrated. I loved Audrey and see how that turned out?”

She looked right at him. “You need to be satisfied with what you have. You’re a VP at Bedell, Inc., with a high six-figure salary and an almost limitless expensive account. None of that will change if you find yourself a lovely woman to marry, someone who’ll make you happy. So, please find someone else. Someone who would love to be Mrs. Grayson Perkins.”

“Perhaps I’ll do just that.” Gray shoved back his chair and stood. “And when you finally realize that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with Lieutenant Desmond, you may regret that I’ve moved on and found someone else.”

She sighed. “Anything is possible.” Anything except my regretting not marrying you.

“LUCIE HANDED IN her resignation?” Geoff Monday shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think anything he did would ever make her quit.”

“Believe it,” Daisy told him. “She packed up all her stuff and made three trips to her car. Then she gave me her letter of resignation to give to Sawyer.”

“Did she share any of the particulars with you?”

“Not really, only that this last case he assigned her was the final straw. When she arrived this morning, she was ready to kill Sawyer, but when she left she was as cool as a cucumber. I’ve never seen Lucie that calm.”

“Do you think the boss might need a pal about now? He did call me personally and asked me to meet with him.”

Geoff winked at Daisy, who blushed sweetly. He supposed he shouldn’t flirt with her, especially since he knew she fancied him. But she understood that it was all in fun. He kept things between them friendly, but never romantic. It wasn’t that he didn’t find her appealing. He did. A bit too appealing. But good God, he was practically old enough to be her father. A pretty little thing like Daisy needed a young, reliable fellow, not a battle-scarred old warrior.

“I wouldn’t enter the lion’s den if I were you, not until he tells me to send you in. He knows you’re here.” Daisy shook her head sadly. “He’s in a bad way. When I delivered Lucie’s letter, he practically bit my head off. And he had a bottle of whiskey on his desk. I’ve never seen him take a drink this early in the day. It’s not even three o’clock.”

“Well his high-and-mighty sent for me,” Geoff said. “He said he had a one-day assignment for me, something that required my expert skills.”

Daisy lifted her brows in an inquisitive manner. “I certainly don’t like the sound of that.”

“Think he wants me to kill someone?”

Geoff chuckled when he saw the shocked expression on her face.

“I was joking, love. My solider-of-fortune days are long behind me.”

Apparently realizing she was staring at him with a hungry look in her big brown eyes, she dragged her gaze away from his. “You’ll stop by on your way out and give me details, right? I’ll need to know where you’re going, make your flight and hotel reservations and—”

“Monday, what’s holding you up?” Sawyer shouted from where he stood outside his office door.

“See what I mean,” Daisy said quietly. “He’s like a bear with a thorn in his paw.”

“Already missing our Lucie, no doubt.” He leaned over and tickled Daisy under her chin. “See you on my way out.”

Geoff whistled as he walked down the hall. From his experience, he had learned that when there was as much animosity between a man and a woman as there was between Sawyer and Lucie, it usually meant they’d had a personal relationship. A sexual relationship. It certainly didn’t take a genius to pick up on the vibes between the gorgeous Amazonian redhead and Dundee’s CEO. And it was a lot more than the fact that they seemed to hate each other.

By the time Geoff reached Sawyer’s office, the boss had gone back inside, but had left the door open. Geoff paused, peered into the office and grunted. He watched while Sawyer downed the last drops of liquor from his glass: then he picked up the open bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and refilled his glass with the two-hundred-dollar-a-bottle scotch.

“Monday reporting for duty, sir.” Geoff clicked his heels and saluted.

Sawyer glared at him, his hazel brown eyes narrowed to mere slits. “I’d like for you to talk to a man named Taylor Lawson. He’s in Las Vegas right now. You can get the information on where he’s staying from Daisy.” He took a hefty swig of whiskey and made a face as the liquor burned a trail down his throat.

“Yes, sir. Would you mind defining exactly what you mean by talk to him?”

“Scare the shit out of him. Leave a few bruises. But I want this done discreetly. I don’t want any repercussions. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When you finish talking to him, leave him a parting message.”

“And that message is?” Geoff asked.

“Tell him to think twice before he tries to rape another woman.”

Geoff sucked in his breath. Was that what had happened to Lucie? Had a client tried to rape her? “May I ask if this has anything to do with why Lucie resigned from Dundee’s?”

Sawyer’s sharp gaze nailed Geoff to the spot. “That’s none of your concern.” He put the glass to his lips and swigged down another large gulp of scotch.

“You’re knocking back the booze a bit heavy, aren’t you, sir? You don’t want the office staff to see you totally pissed, do you?”

“When I want your advice, Mr. Monday, I’ll ask for it.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get the information I need from Daisy and take the first flight out—”

“Take the Dundee jet. Have Daisy authorize the flight. I want this taken care of tonight.”

“Do you want me to report in directly to you when the mission is accomplished?”

“Yes. You have my home number. I don’t care what time it is.”

“Yes, sir, I have your home number and your mobile number.”

With a half-full glass of whiskey in his hand, Sawyer turned his back on Geoff and walked to the wall of windows that overlooked the town center, effectively dismissing his employee.

LUCIE EVANS WAS the only person on earth who could drive him to drink. The last time he had gotten fall-on-his-face drunk, Lucie had been the cause. Sawyer stared at the bottle of Johnnie Walker on his desk, then down at the empty glass in his hand. He’d had enough, more than enough. He probably couldn’t walk a straight line and he sure as hell couldn’t drive himself home, but he was sober enough to feel guilty. Damn her for making him feel this way.

He had sent her off on her latest assignment, as he had many times over the years, knowing full well that she’d hate every minute of it. But if he’d had any idea that Lawson would try to rape Lucie…He wanted five minutes alone with the guy. Five minutes. But he didn’t dare handle this himself. He might actually kill Lawson. No, better to allow an expert like Monday to put the fear of God into the scumbag who had attacked Lucie.

She’s gone for good, now. You finally got what you’ve wanted ever since she followed you here to Atlanta and Ellen Denby hired her as a Dundee agent.

When he had resigned from the FBI and Sam Dundee had offered him a job, he had believed he would be starting a new life, a Lucie Evans-free life. He’d been in California on an assignment when Ellen hired Lucie, otherwise he might have been able to dissuade her or perhaps convince Sam that Lucie wasn’t any more Dundee material than she’d been FBI material.

“Why are you doing this?” he had asked her. “Why can’t you leave well enough alone and stay out of my life?”

“Because I love you,” she’d told him. Straightforward and to the point. “And I believe that deep down under all the pain and guilt you feel, you still love me.”

She’d been wrong. He didn’t love her. He had never loved her.

Sawyer set the glass on his desk, flopped down in his leather chair and huffed out a deep, exasperated breath. He loosened his silk tie and undid the top button of his linen shirt.

If he knew Lucie, she didn’t have a nest egg socked away for a rainy day. She lived in the moment. Always had. She was generous to her friends and a sucker for every sob story she heard. She gave away too much of her hard-earned money to charities she believed in, those for women, children and animals.

He’d see to it that she received a generous bonus from Dundee’s. He could also shred her letter of resignation and have Daisy report that she was laid off, that way she could at least draw unemployment.

You can do better than that. You can give her a glowing recommendation. Or he could make a phone call and get her a new job.

“That’s it.” When he tried to snap his fingers, he realized he was drunker than he’d thought. He couldn’t seem to make his fingers cooperate.

He picked up the interoffice phone and hit the office manager’s number. When she answered on the second ring, he said, “Daisy, look up Cara Bedell’s phone number for me. Her office number. She should still be there.”

He waited while Daisy found the information he had requested. When she recited the number, he jotted it down quickly. After taking a steadying breath, he dialed Cara’s number. Her secretary answered.

“This is Sawyer McNamara from the Dundee Agency. I’d like to speak to Ms. Bedell.”

“Just a moment, sir.”

A couple of minutes later, Cara came on the line. “Mr. McNamara, what can I do for you?”

“You can tell your new security chief to hire one of my former employees.”

“I take it that you didn’t fire this person, otherwise you’d hardly be recommending him to me.”

“Her. It’s Lucie Evans. You remember Ms. Evans, don’t you?”

“Yes, I remember her.”

“Lucie needs a job. I thought perhaps as a favor to Dundee’s, you might consider hiring her.”

“Fax her resume first thing in the morning. Send it directly to me and I’ll hand deliver it to Deke.”

“Thank you.” He swallowed. “Just one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I’d prefer that Ms. Evans not know that I had anything to do with her being offered the job.”

“All right. I’ll have Deke fabricate a white lie to cover for you, if necessary.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Sawyer hung up the receiver. There, that was done. Lucie had a job. She’d be moving two hours away, from Atlanta to Chattanooga. Two hours, twenty miles, a hundred miles or a thousand, it was all the same. It meant that, if he were lucky, he’d never have to see Lucie Evans again as long as he lived.

TOMAS CASTILLO met privately with his friend, President Emilio Ortega, to discuss Cara Bedell’s upcoming visit to Ameca. He and Emilio had known each other for quite some time and he had contributed generously to his friend’s campaign for reelection against the opposition leader, Naldo Salazar. Salazar was a man of the people who wanted all kinds of ridiculous government reforms. Felipe Delgado, Tomas’s rival in the oil business, had campaigned for Salazar.

“Ms. Bedell is set to arrive in San Luis in three weeks,” Emilio said. “I plan to host a dinner here at the palace for our American friend and hopefully your new business partner.”

“I understand she has been invited to stay with Delgado and his family while she is here. Perhaps you should make a counteroffer. After all, if she refused the president’s request for her to stay at the palace…” Tomas smiled. “Ms. Bedell is unmarried, I believe. It would be my great pleasure to be her devoted servant while she is in my country.”

Emilio laughed. “Ah, Tomas, you wicked devil. You intend to seduce the American senorita, no? She may have great respect for Delgado and like his ideas of returning a portion of the profits from any deal they make to the people of Ameca, but I would lay odds that once you romance Ms. Bedell, she will sing whatever tune you want to hear.”

“Indeed. I admit that I do have a way with the ladies. But if Ms. Bedell can’t be charmed, then all is not lost. There is more than one means of persuasion, is there not?”

“Enough.” Emilio held up a hand in a stop signal. “What other plans you may have, I do not want to know them.”

“Of course, my old friend, the less you know, the better. But be assured that I will not fail. I intend for Bedell, Inc. and Castillo, Inc. to become partners in a lucrative deal that will benefit both parties. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to secure that bargain.”