Читать книгу Jilt Trip - HEATHER MACALLISTER, Heather Macallister - Страница 6

THE HAPPIEST TIMES of Carter’s life were spent aboard the Honey Bee with Nikki. Just heading south in the car was enough to loosen the kinks in his shoulders. Inhaling the salty air cleared his mind, the feel of gritty warm sand underneath his feet lowered his blood pressure. As the sun beat on his head, stress evaporated, leaving him pleasantly sleepy.

As soon as the Honey Bee was under way, he’d indulge himself in a nap, leaving Nikki at the helm.

Rocked to sleep by the waves of the Gulf of Mexico, Carter always fell into a deep, healing slumber, leaving his well-being in Nikki’s capable hands.

He trusted her as he’d trusted no other person. With Nikki, he shared his life and his dreams. When he needed her, she was there for him. Always. Without question.

Ah, Nikki. Just the thought of her filled an emptiness in his life that he hadn’t realized was there. He couldn’t remember the time before Nikki.

He inhaled with a sigh, reassured by the familiar faint musty smell of the Honey Bee’s bedding. Nikki combated mildew with the fervor of a religious zealot, but never completely obliterated it, despite her best efforts.

They so seldom had the opportunity to air the bedding in the master stateroom because it was frequently in use. Once he was in Nikki’s arms, he forgot everything but her touch, her scent and her taste. Smiling, Carter burrowed deeper into the pillow.

He supposed they could have adjourned to the guest cabin in the bow on occasion, but it was subject to the movement of the boat more than the master stateroom and not nearly as restful. Not that they rested all that much.

Shifting on the berth, Carter sniffed. Nothing from the galley. Nikki must not have started dinner yet.

He visualized her standing barefoot in the galley, wearing a swimsuit top and cutoff jeans. Her skin would be lightly tanned a peachy bronze, liberally sprinkled with freckles in spite of all the sun block she slathered over her body.

He’d come to depend on Nikki’s instantaneous transformation from business partner to domestic goddess. The boat was always stocked. He’d asked her once how she managed to have fresh lettuce, rib-eye steaks and whole milk for his coffee. She told him she always kept provisions in the office refrigerator, rotating them so she and Carter could leave at a moment’s notice.

He was grateful, he truly was. He should dictate a memo reminding himself to tell her so. Where was his tape recorder? He tried to search the shelf above the berth, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. They were so heavy…

Lulled by the hum of the generator, Carter drifted back to sleep. Strange dreams disturbed him. Nikki didn’t look like Nikki anymore. Her hair was blond instead of chestnut brown. Her eyes were blue instead of ocean green. Her skin was tan and she’d finally managed to get rid of her freckles.

He’d liked her freckles. He’d made several attempts to count them all, but was usually interrupted. An interruption would be welcome now, as a matter of fact. Very welcome.

He waited and the dreams continued, shrouded in swirling white. Nikki in a wedding dress. But Nikki hadn’t worn a traditional wedding dress.

Flowers. Nikki had worn mostly flowers. White roses.

Carter smiled, then frowned. Roses were bad, he remembered, but didn’t remember why.

In his dreams, he tried to ask the shadowy figures, but no one would tell him. It gave him a headache, though that could have been from the noise. He didn’t remember all this humming and pounding on the boat before. Was the beating of his heart sounding in his head?

Maybe if he lay very still, the noise would stop. But stillness was relative, he discovered. Though he didn’t move, his body experienced a gentle up-and-down sway. A relentless, never-ending sway.

Carter swallowed, his mouth dry and cottony. He wanted a drink of water, but his stomach immediately rebelled. Hunger…no, seasickness. Seasick? Carter Belden was never seasick.

He would will this away. He visualized a grilled rib eye, charred on the outside, bloodred on the inside—and was immediately sorry.

What had happened to his sea legs, or rather his sea stomach? Just how long had it been since he and Nikki had been aboard the Honey Bee? Weeks? Months?

Years. The knowledge came to him accompanied by a great sadness. Something had kept him away from the boat. So why was he aboard it now? He cracked open his eyes just enough to see yellow and closed them again. Yes, he was aboard the Honey Bee.

But he didn’t remember getting to the boat. In fact, the last thing he remembered was…

“Nikki!” he bellowed, to his instant regret.

Pain ripped through his head and exploded behind his eyes with such ferocity that he actually opened them to verify that he still had his sight.

He wished he hadn’t. The hideous decorating scheme Nikki had chosen for the craft—black, yellow and white stripes—assaulted his vision.

Head throbbing anew, he shut his eyes against the garish yellow walls Nikki thought would add light to the cabins below deck.

He’d indulged her because they were newly married and because the wall covering, yards and yards of it, was fabric, not vinyl. But instead of disintegrating the way he’d expected—and hoped—the heavy canvas had worn like iron.

She’d even had matching swimsuits sewn out of the leftovers, for God’s sake. He’d refused to wear his in spite of the hurt looks she’d cast him.

He’d given her a little diamond bee pin to make up for it.

He hadn’t seen her wear it in a very long time.

“Carter?” Nikki’s voice sounded above him.

“Go away and let me die in peace.”

“Hold these.”

He felt her take his hand and plop something into his palm. “Does this involve putting anything in my stomach?”

“Aspirin.”

“Forget it.”

“Carter, having a headache is normal. Aspirin will help.”

“Normal? You drugged me.”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing normal about drugging someone. Therefore, the resulting headache is abnormal.”

“Impeccable logic. You’re right, as usual,” she agreed, cheerfully unrepentant.

“Ha!” He groaned. Being right hurt his head.

“Take the aspirin, Carter.”

Moaning piteously, he struggled to sit up. Leaning against the bulkhead, he blindly shoved the pills into his mouth. Nikki practically drowned him with the glass of water. Justice would only be served if he puked all over her, he thought, managing to swallow the pills.

They sloshed around in his stomach as he tried to counter the movement of the boat. “What are we in, a hurricane?” he grumbled.

“No, seas are calm.” Nikki maintained that irritatingly serene voice adopted by those who were dealing with grouchy people.

He opened his eyes. The room spun, but he focused on the waistband of her shorts, then tilted his head back and squinted at her.

Kneeling, she tugged away his bow tie and unbuttoned his collar button. She had started on the second button, when he covered her hands with his.

She raised her eyes and he was hit by the force of her green gaze. His pulse drummed in his ears as she awakened feelings long dormant, feelings he thought were dead, not just asleep.

Feelings he had no right to be feeling.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, rocking back on her heels and withdrawing her hands all in one graceful movement. She disappeared out the doorway, returning within moments.

“Don’t walk so loud,” he mumbled.

Nikki sat on the edge of the berth, doing horrid things to his equilibrium. “Sip some of this. You need lots of liquids.”

She wrapped his hands around a warm mug and, only because he knew she’d nag until he cooperated, Carter brought it to his lips.

“Good God almighty, what’s this?”

“Defatted chicken broth,” she replied in that same conciliatory voice. “It’s good for you.”

He rolled gritty eyes toward her. “You’ve shanghaied me. Don’t pretend you’re concerned about my health.”

Her lips drew together in a thin line, her most unattractive expression. “It’s your own fault. I had no idea you had become the sort of man who would guzzle champagne moments before he was to walk down the aisle.”

“I was provoked. Set up.” Since there was nothing else, he drank more broth. Not bad. In fact, the rancid taste was beginning to leave his mouth. He swallowed again, noting that he didn’t feel as queasy. The stuff even muffled the drums in his head, allowing a few thoughts to filter through. “I’m not too clear on recent events. Am I married?”

Nikki gazed at him steadily. “It’s a little complicated, but, yes. You are most definitely married.”

“Damn.” Carter drained the last of the chicken broth. “I don’t remember the ceremony. I do remember passing out,” he said sternly. “I don’t remember when I came to. What did I do then, dance on the pews? Insult the bride’s mother?”

Nikki avoided his eyes as she took the mug.

That was a very bad sign. “If I’m married, what am I doing here? Where’s Dee Ann? Is she topside?”

“No.”

“Still at the reception?”

“I doubt it.”

He tried to visualize Dee Ann in her wedding dress and couldn’t. Another bad sign. “What have you done to her?”

Nikki glared at him. “Nothing.”

He folded his arms and focused his eyes until her two images merged into one. “All right, Nikki. Talk.”

Her gaze turned wary, her eyes assessing his mood.

His mood was black, but what did she expect? Focusing was too much trouble. He closed his eyes. “You might as well tell me everything.”

“I will when you’re ready.”

He felt her weight leave the berth and grabbed for her hand, missing but catching her leg instead. “I’m ready now.”

“I’m not,” she said, pulling free. “Wait here and I’ll be back with the stats.”

Stats. And he’d so hoped he wouldn’t be required to open his eyes again anytime soon.

While he waited for her return, he peeled off his socks, removed his cummerbund and undid the button Nikki had started to undo, as well as two more.

He was removing his cuff studs by the time she returned.

“All comfy now?” she asked.

Rather than respond, he tossed the studs toward the built-in dresser. One made it, one didn’t.

Instead of picking up the stud, Nikki ignored it. “Do you want to look at the papers here, or in the dinette?”

“Here.” He watched her carefully as he rolled up his shirtsleeves.

She was doing a good job of maintaining her business persona. Did she find it difficult to do here on the Honey Bee? Was she uncomfortable in the master stateroom with him now?

He certainly hoped so.

Sitting down on the berth and tucking one leg underneath her, Nikki spread open a blue file folder across her knee.

Carter’s glance swept over it. “This is the same stuff Bob showed me at the wedding.”

“But you ignored us at the wedding.”

“Obviously a tactical error on my part.”

The briefest of smiles flickered across her lips as she pointed to a column of names. “This is a list of major stockholders in Belden Industries. You currently own thirty-eight percent and are still the majority shareholder—”

“Look, Nikki, I don’t want to hear all the whys and wherefores right now, just get to the bottom line.”

She looked up and said bluntly, “You’re going to lose control of your company.”

“Impossible,” he denied, even as something twisted in his stomach.

Mutely, Nikki gestured to the folder.

She was being an alarmist and he was just seasick. “I don’t believe you.”

That got to her. “I know you don’t,” she snapped. “That’s why you’re here and not on your honeymoon with Miss Texas!”

“That would be Mrs. Texas, wouldn’t it?”

“Not…exactly.”

He expected fireworks. Instead, his comment seemed to allow her to regain control and slip back into the I’m all-business demeanor she’d adopted in the early days after their separation.

He’d hated her cold facade, but understood her reasons. Gradually, excruciatingly, they’d both thawed until, as far as Carter was concerned, everything was back to normal—until he’d announced his engagement to Dee Ann Karrenbrock and Nikki had frozen again. But Nikki wasn’t the only one who was cool toward the idea of his marriage to Victor Karrenbrock’s daughter.

No one on his staff liked Dee Ann, but then, they didn’t have to, did they?

“Nikki, I realize you don’t like Dee Ann, so keep her out of this discussion.”

“Gladly,” Nikki responded.

Carter smiled slightly. “Now,” he said, mimicking her tone, “I want information somewhere between that—” he pointed to the blue file “—and losing Belden Industries.”

She gazed at him, her mouth set, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “You currently own thirty-eight percent of Belden’s stock.”

She’d already said that. “Currently. I’m buying back more.”

“So far, you’ve been unsuccessful. I own six percent and Julian, Saunders and few others own a combined five percent. That’s forty-nine percent.”

“Bob’s been wringing his hands about that for weeks. What’s your point? I realize I’m vulnerable, but it’s just under half.”

“Just under half if everyone votes your way.”

His jaw dropped. “What’s—”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “No mutiny in the ranks.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he demanded, impatient with her. She hadn’t told him anything new.

“Upon your marriage, you were going to settle—”

“Were?”

“Carter, will you shut up and listen to me?”

His head was going to split. “Okay,” he whispered.

She lowered her voice. “Ten percent of your stock transfers to Dee Ann. That leaves you with personal holdings of only twenty-eight percent.”

Though he had no intention of admitting it to Nikki, Carter hadn’t liked the numbers, either, which was why he was so keen on buying back stock. “But I’ll still control forty-nine percent.”

“Will you?” The words hung in the silence.

Apparently, he’d misjudged her loyalty to him. “What do you own, six percent? Okay, then I’ll control forty-three percent. I’m still founder and majority stockholder. People would be foolish to vote against me.” Carter found himself unbelievably hurt by her betrayal.

“You pigheaded jerk!” Muttering, Nikki searched through the papers, withdrew one and threw it at him. “See for yourself. Here are all the attempts we made to buy stock compared with actual trades.”

Carter snatched the paper and blinked. He hadn’t realized how many offers Nikki’s department had made. Obviously, he’d have to pay more per share. “It’s almost as if someone knew in advance when a block would be available and snatched it right out from under us.” Still scanning the columns, he held out his hand. Nikki placed another paper in it.

Although he hadn’t spoken, it was exactly the information he’d wanted. Nikki had always been able to anticipate his requests, sometimes even before he’d known what they were. He should concentrate on what she was trying to tell him instead of assuming he was right and she was wrong.

“The buyers are all companies,” he commented with a frown.

“We only discovered the connection between Lacefield Foods and Karrenbrock Ventures after the market closed on Thursday. We spent Friday looking for a link with these other companies.”

Carter still frowned. “With Lacefield’s three percent, that gives Karrenbrock control of seventeen percent. Significant, but not a problem.”

Nikki’s eyes met his. “With Dee Ann’s ten percent, he’d control twenty-seven percent, which nearly equals your personal holdings.”

“You’re saying my wife would join with her father to vote against me?”

“Either that or join with you and vote against her father.”

He’d never thought of it quite that way. He’d known he was vulnerable, but he’d expected to beef up his shares before now. Deep inside, Carter felt the beginnings of panic. He suddenly realized that not since its inception had Belden Industries been at such risk. The paper in his hands quivered and he dropped it on the yellow-and-black-striped spread, disgusted by this outward sign of agitation.

Panic is a response that results from a perceived loss of control, he told himself. Carter was in control. He took a deep breath. He’d remain in control. He’d use the panic to provide an edge, an edge that had been dulled by endless wedding preparations.

“Of course, Saunders, Julian and I will vote our shares with you, which will guarantee you thirty-nine percent without Dee Ann’s stock,” Nikki assured him. “What concerns us is the possibility that Karrenbrock, through his subsidiaries, controls even more Belden stock.”

Alegitimate concern, and one he planned to address. “But you don’t know for certain.”

“We need time to find out.”

Carter gazed at her as she returned the papers to the folder, closed it and opened another one.

Mentally, he stepped back to assess the situation and the personalities involved. How much of what Nikki had told him was a valid business concern and how much was fueled by jealousy?

He couldn’t blindly accept the fact that his future father-in-law would threaten his company. It made more sense that the man would take steps to strengthen it so that his daughter—and future grandchildren—would benefit. “Why should I be concerned if my father-in-law owns a large chunk of my company? Shouldn’t I consider that a show of support?”

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to consider it, Carter,” she responded in a bored voice. “Victor Karrenbrock is a direct competitor in several areas of industrial manufacturing. You recently positioned yourself to enter oil-field supply, one of his main sources of revenue. It’s a tight, lean field. He’s bound to resent it.”

“Business is business,” Carter stated reflexively.

“Exactly.” Nikki opened another file. “Which is why we suspected that he’d attempt a hostile takeover while you were on your honeymoon.”

Preposterous. “And so you took it upon yourself to see that there was no honeymoon.” Outrageous.

“We thought it best.” She smiled. It was a little smile full of self-satisfaction. It infuriated him.

“You went too far!” Carter swept all Nikki’s facts and figures to the floor of the cabin. “You suspect!” His voice rose. “Suspect? Think? Probably?” He was shouting even though it renewed the pounding in his head. “On such a flimsy premise, you ruined my wedding?”

Nikki, her eyes wide, backed off the berth. “We need more time to verify—”

“Turn this boat around and take me back to my wife!” He groaned and grabbed his temple.

When he released his breath, he distinctly heard her say, “No.”

“What do you mean no? I’m ordering you to sail back to the dock.”

She laughed. Laughed. “On whose authority?”

Was he still asleep? Were his dreams turning into nightmares? “On my authority!”

“The Honey Bee belongs to me now. I’m her captain and I’ll decide where she sails.”

This was not the Nikki he knew. This was not the Nikki who worked with him. Worked for him. Matching her smug smile, he relaxed. “Then, as your boss, I’m ordering you to return me to shore.”

“I don’t work for you anymore. You fired me.” She looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, you fired all of us. Better not count on that eleven percent voting your way.”

The throbbing at the sides of his temples increased. Without this blasted headache, he’d be able to think his way through this mess. “I rescind my firing. Now, take me back.”

Lacing her fingers in front of her, she drew a deep breath. “That wouldn’t be wise.”

“Okay.” Inexplicably, Carter’s anger seeped away, leaving him feeling like a deflated balloon. “Nikki, what’s done is done. Now I’ve got to make things right with Dee Ann, or she will vote against me.”

“Carter…” For the first time, Nikki’s calm facade cracked. “Any stock she owns, she purchased herself. The ceremony never took place.”

“But you said—” He broke off and jerked his left hand up. No wedding ring encircled his finger. Mutely, he stared at her.

Nikki’s mouth twisted. “You aren’t married to Dee Ann, you’re married to me.”