Читать книгу The Playboy Meets His Match - Sara Orwig - Страница 11

A broken heart was one thing—but missing money was quite another. All of Jason’s cold, negative feelings about Dorian returned. Suppose he had been right about the man all along? Money was missing at Wescott Oil and some of it had turned up in an account in Sebastian’s name. Someone had taken that money and tried to frame Sebastian for murder. A man had been killed, and the guilty party was a cold-blooded murderer.

Jason realized Merry was studying him intently. “What?” he asked.

“What’s going through your mind? Dorian taking Holly’s money disturbed you.”

“We’ve had something going on here in Royal,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “You’ve met some of the Texas Cattleman’s Club members,” he remarked dryly, and she did have the grace to blush.

“I just wanted to find out where Dorian was. I’m sure it was a dreadful shock to have a woman violate the inner sanctum of your precious club.”

“You weren’t exactly quiet about it,” he said, thinking that was all he’d heard about the day after Merry had burst into the club demanding to know Dorian’s whereabouts. Merry was a fiery, feisty, Texas tornado, stirring people up everywhere she went. Was she that way at home in Dallas? He found it difficult to keep his mind on the conversation, on Dorian, on problems, when she was sitting close and looking so enticing.

Since her shower, Merry’s hair was silky, springing free to curl slightly around her face and spill onto her shoulders. Its deep auburn color held highlights of gold and fiery orange. In the kitchen he had wanted to kiss her. And he had almost tried because he thought she wanted him to, but the moment had passed. Now he wanted to stretch his arm out about three more inches and touch her. He resisted the urge, focusing on their discussion.

“Do you remember meeting Sebastian Wescott?” he asked.

“Dorian’s half brother. I thought he was nicer than Dorian.”

“Ahh, we agree on something,” Jason said, having resisted touching Merry as long as he could. He wound locks of her hair around his fingers, letting her soft curls slide over his hand. There was a flicker in her smokey eyes and pink tinged her cheeks, so she had noticed and she wasn’t objecting. Was the lady feeling the same sparks that he was?

“Sebastian inherited the Wescott Oil empire and when Dorian arrived in Royal and let his presence be known and that he was a long-lost half brother, Sebastian took him in and got him a job at Wescott Oil in computer services.”

“Sebastian Wescott should know that he has taken in someone who is deceptive and unscrupulous. Dorian is a real snake.”

“We’ve inducted Dorian into the Texas Cattleman’s Club because he’s Sebastian’s half brother. He seems to have fit himself into life in Royal.” Only half thinking about Dorian and Sebastian, Jason talked while his thoughts were on Merry, her big eyes, her soft hair that he was winding around his fingers. She sounded sincerely annoyed with him. His usual ability to charm a woman seemed to be failing. But, he reminded himself, they hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts. Still, for whatever reason, he wasn’t accustomed to women disliking him and it bothered him. It also bothered him greatly that he was the cause of her skinned cheek. Her skin was as soft as a rose petal and he wished he could undo the harm he had done.

“And—”

He realized he had stopped talking as he studied Merry and wondered about her.

“Sorry. My mind wandered. Where was I?”

Her brows arched while her gaze filled with curiosity. “Where did your mind wander?” she asked softly.

His pulse jumped. “To you. What you’re like, your soft hair—”

“Your attention better wander back to Dorian Brady.”

“That’s not nearly as much fun.”

“It’s safer.”

“Scared, Merry?”

She gave him a sultry look that sent his temperature soaring. “Not at all. I’m not your type, so let’s get back to facts. What were we talking about, Rob Cole?”

“Don’t be in such a rush to change the subject, now that it’s on us.”

“There is no ‘us.’ Tell me about Rob.”

He was tempted to keep flirting with her, but good sense took over, and he knew she was right.

“Rob Cole’s wife, Rebecca,” Jason continued, trying to disengage himself from a spell that Merry seemed to weave effortlessly, “found the body of Eric Chambers, a man who worked at Wescott Oil and was murdered.”

“How awful!”

“Eric had been strangled. Eric was Vice President of Accounting at Wescott. Money was missing at the company. When some of it was found in a private account of Sebastian’s, he was arrested and accused of the murder. There was a very incriminating e-mail that Sebastian supposedly sent to Eric.”

“That sounds terrible,” Merry said. “At the trial Sebastian must have walked, or I wouldn’t have met him at the club.” She shook her head, causing the locks wound in Jason’s fingers to slip free and he wondered if it really bothered her that he was touching her hair. The last thing he ever intended to do was force even the slightest unwanted attention on a woman. Yet, when they had locked gazes, Merry had been as immobile as he. And in the kitchen when he had moved close, she had been breathless. Just minutes ago, she had flirted with him. Curious about his effect on her, he ran his finger across her knuckles while he watched her face.

When he saw the faint flicker in her eyes, his pulse jumped. Maybe his attention wasn’t unwanted after all.

He took her hand in his gently, careful not to touch her scraped skin. “You have small, delicate hands, Merry.”

She yanked her hand away and balled it into a fist in her lap. “What happened after Sebastian was arrested?”

“The case was dismissed. He had an alibi that he couldn’t talk about, but his attorney found a way to prove that he couldn’t have committed the murder, so someone was obviously trying to frame him. Someone planted evidence in Sebastian’s office that indicated he was responsible for the missing money.”

“That’s dreadful!”

“Dorian might stand to gain a lot if Sebastian were out of the way. It’s one thing for a man to break your sister’s heart. It’s another to cross the line and steal her money.”

“The money isn’t as important as deceiving her.”

“Maybe not, but it tells me more about Dorian’s character.”

“It doesn’t say one thing more about him than what I’m telling you that he did in deceiving Holly.”

“All anyone knows about Dorian’s past is what he’s told us,” he said. “Tell me about the money.”

“All right. Holly let Dorian talk her into opening a joint account. He said that when they married everything would be jointly shared anyway. He told her he didn’t believe in keeping things separate. What was his was hers and vice versa. So she did.”

As Merry talked, Jason watched her. If he had good sense, he wouldn’t flirt with her or touch her. This was definitely not a woman he wanted to date. Not in the next million years. And yet—what was it about her that drew him? A few casual touches shouldn’t hurt anything. She was going to ignore them anyway.

“By your standards I’m sure she didn’t have a lot,” Merry continued. “Holly worked hard and went without things and saved. She had several thousand dollars, and he just cleaned it all out and was gone.”

“That’s an entirely different matter than running out after telling a woman he loved her.”

“It’s different if you think money is more important than love!” she snapped indignantly and he knew he had just lowered himself in her sight again, but he was lower than a snake already so another notch wouldn’t matter.

“Do you have records of this joint account and of the withdrawal?”

She flushed again, and he wondered whether she was making everything up. “Dorian kept the records. He told Holly that he was moving the account to a bank where they would get better service. She gave him all the receipts. I don’t have proof of anything he did. He was very clever.” Big eyes stared at him. “You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked, sounding resigned as well as aggravated.

He thought before he answered. “I sort of believe you, but I sure as hell wish you had proof. Do you know how much better it would be if you could pull out bank statements, that sort of thing?”

“He took the money,” she said stubbornly. “And I’ll bet he’s tied in with whatever is going on at Wescott Oil. The man is greedy, ruthless and totally unscrupulous.”

Jason stared at her while he mulled over his own negative feelings about Dorian. He shouldn’t let them color his judgment now, though.

“I’m not convincing you,” she said and she sounded discouraged and resigned.

“I’m listening and thinking about it, but proof would make a world of difference. You know the old saying about a woman scorned.”

She stood. “I’m exhausted and I’d like to go to bed.”

“Sure.” He came to his feet. “In the morning do you want to sleep in or do you want me to call you?”

“I would much rather sleep in.”

“Suits me fine,” he said, thinking of appointments he would have to juggle to stay home with her. Yet the thought wasn’t unpleasant. “I’ll be up early. I work out first thing. You may use my exercise room if you want.”

“Thanks. I usually work out in the morning, too.”

“I’m not surprised at that,” he remarked dryly.

Switching off lights, he walked down the hall with her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He had rarely dated short women and hated to have to stoop down to kiss one. It was much more pleasant to have an armful of tall, soft woman than to have to bend himself into a pretzel shape to get a hug and a kiss. “Are you between jobs right now?”

“That’s right.”

“So you can take time to get out and slash tires and break into men’s private clubs and all that?”

Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a look that should have dealt as big a blow as her fist, but he wasn’t one to be intimidated by looks.

“Dorian Brady is evil, and I don’t think he should do his wicked deeds and not have some comeuppance.”

“Maybe you should let the law worry about comeuppance.”

At the door of her bedroom, she turned to face him. “You can’t keep me here indefinitely.”

“I don’t intend to. I got you off the street tonight and as long as you leave Dorian alone, you can go your own way. Will you leave the man alone?”

She seemed lost in thought. “I suppose,” she said with a sigh.

“I think he’s suffered.”

“You are birds of a feather,” she remarked darkly.

“I told you before that I’ve never promised a woman marriage, never taken a dime of a woman’s money. Please do not lump me with Dorian Brady,” Jason said, annoyed with her again. She was like eating hot peppers—tasty, but full of sting.

“All right. I apologize for lumping you with him,” she said.

“Thank you.” He placed his hand above her head, resting his palm against the jamb. Moving closer, he tilted her chin up. “You know, the night doesn’t have to be wasted.”

“Wasted?” she asked, sounding breathless. He slipped his hand to her throat and discovered her racing pulse. He wasn’t waiting for her arguments or protests that he was sure would be coming. Pretzel twist or not, he wanted to kiss her. He slipped his arm around her waist, stepped closer and leaned down.