Читать книгу The Corporate Raider's Revenge / Tycoon's Valentine Vendetta - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 12

Five

Laney pulled her hair back and secured it with a barrette at the nape of her neck. She put on a black suit, a fitted blazer and skirt that screamed all business, no pleasure. She wore little jewelry, but for the diamond stud earrings that had been her mother’s. She’d treat this dinner with Evan as business as usual and nothing more.

That was the plan until she answered the knock on her front door precisely at eight o’clock to find Evan standing there, looking like every woman’s fantasy. Dressed in slate gray, wearing an Italian cut suit, his dark hair groomed and combed back with just a hint of stubble on his face, and no cowboy boots to be found, he earned an admiring stare from Laney.

“It’s good to see you, Laney.” He said it as if he meant it. A shiver of sexual awareness shimmied through her body. She peered over his shoulder to the jet-black limousine waiting. She realized she’d grossly underdressed for whatever Evan had in mind, and normally the fashion faux pas would have plagued her all evening. But tonight she decided to turn the tables on him.

“I think I would have preferred cowboy boots, Evan.”

He took no offense, but only laughed. “Then let’s just make a quick stop to my penthouse and—”

“No, thank you,” she said quickly. “I want to remind you, this is a business dinner.”

Evan studied her hair and the blond waves she’d tucked safely into a sterling silver prison. His gaze traveled to her face, meeting her eyes with a slow searing look before lowering to her lips. Laney’s heart beat harder. Her head swam as he scrutinized her mouth. And when he dipped his gaze lower yet to scan her buttoned lace blouse and the hint of cleavage Laney couldn’t hide, she had to warn herself to be careful. He wasn’t to be trusted.

“You look beautiful.”

“I wasn’t going for beautiful.”

“I know. You can’t help it.”

His compliment shot straight to her head, like a brain freeze after sipping an ice-cold chocolate malt too quickly. But Laney rebelled against it. She retreated back in her doorway. “This isn’t a good idea.”

Evan reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers over hers. “It’s a very good idea.” He softened his tone. “You’re working too hard. Take a break. Let’s have a quiet meal and talk.”

She hated that his touch, the soothing way his hand covered hers, didn’t repel her. Or that the sound of his voice only brought familiar, fond memories. She wouldn’t be fooled again, but she did need answers from him.

Her stomach was back on the blink. She’d barely eaten a bite today, the thought of food making her sick. She only hoped she could make it through dinner tonight with him.

“Okay, fine.” She released herself from his grasp and locked up her house. “Let’s get this over with.”

Evan set a hand to her back guiding her to the limousine, waving off his chauffeur and opening the door for her himself. She settled into the backseat as he closed the door.

Before she knew it, they’d traveled to the beach and headed north up the coastline.

“You ready for some wine? Champagne?”

She looked at the fully stocked bar again, then up at him. “No, thank you. I’m not celebrating anything.”

He leaned back against the cushiony leather seat. “At one time, you didn’t need a reason to have a drink with me.”

“That wasn’t you, Evan.”

“No? How can you be so sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said rather smugly, proud that she’d managed to put a frown on his face.

“You know, you don’t need to cover yourself up in a prim business suit. I know what’s underneath. And I’m not just speaking about your sexy body.”

“Sure, say that now while the car is traveling at sixty miles an hour and I can’t jump out.”

Evan let go a deep chuckle. “Smart-ass.”

All in all, Laney was pretty darn proud of herself for holding her own with the likes of ruthless, driven, gorgeous, Evan Tyler.

In her estimation, he was no better than Justin Overton. Both men had hurt her, but Evan had the distinction of possibly being responsible for her father’s heart attack. And while he was her baby’s father, he was also her enemy, a man she would never trust.

Originally, Evan wanted to hate Laney Royal. She was the spoiled, wealthy, indulged daughter of Nolan Royal. How could she be anything else? But he’d found her remarkably unlike her father, which had been a genuine surprise. The woman with the hot little body and pretty sky-blue eyes had wit and humor and brains to match. In his quest to extract information from her, he’d found that he’d enjoyed the time he spent with her on the island.

He wanted her hotels and she couldn’t stand the sight of him. She looked at him as if a monstrous blast of fire would spew out his mouth any second. But she was far from a withering damsel in distress. That made what he was about to do very tricky. He’d tried speaking to her rational side without success, so tonight he’d have to speak to her emotions.

When they reached the seaside restaurant, Evan took Laney’s hand and led her inside. They were immediately shown to an intimate corner table he’d reserved for the night.

“I hope this meets with your approval,” Bradley, the maître d’, said.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Oysters on the half shell and a bottle of fine red wine awaited them. Outside spotlights shimmered on the shoreline, illuminating crashing waves upon the sand. Stars glimmered above. Warm summer air filtered in through the expanse of open French doors lining the back of the restaurant.

“This is very nice, Evan. But hardly a place to conduct business.”

Evan smiled. “Let me worry about that.”

He poured her a glass of wine and then one for himself. Color drained from Laney’s face the minute she glanced at the oysters.

“What’s wrong? I know you love oysters. We had our share of them—”

“Stop!” She put up a hand and closed her eyes. “I’d appreciate you not reminding me about anything I said or did on Maui. Okay?”

He narrowed his eyes. What was up with her? “What are you afraid of, Laney?”

“Can we get just get down to business,” she said, pushing aside her glass of wine and the decorative plate of oysters, without giving them so much as another glance.

“Before we order? Sorry, babe, but I’m hungry. We’ll talk business after the meal.”

When the waiter came by, he appeared genuinely concerned. “Is there something wrong with the wine, Mr. Tyler? Or the oysters? I can assure you they’re the finest quality—”

“No, no, everything’s great. The table is just as I arranged.” Evan sipped from his glass of wine to appease him. “I think we’re ready to order now.”

The waiter put on a smile and began reciting the nightly specials. Evan listened, darting quick glances Laney’s way. Her face paled even more when the waiter began describing the fare in great detail.

“If you’ll allow me to order,” Evan said, looking at Laney with keen interest now, “their grilled swordfish is the best—”

“I’ll just have a salad, Evan.” She cast him a small smile.

“Salad?” Evan scratched his head. The waiter jerked back, appearing slightly insulted.

“If I might suggest the jumbo Cajun prawn salad with lobster dressing,” the waiter offered.

Laney’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Please, just a green salad with no dressing.”

Evan glanced at the waiter. “Bring us two swordfish dinners. I’ll see if I can’t get the lady to change her mind.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me you’re not on a diet.” Evan said, once the waiter was out of hearing distance.

Laney glanced out the French doors appearing extremely interested in the shoreline. “No, but I’m not very hungry.”

“You’ve lost weight, Laney. Not that you don’t look good, but you’re—”

“Stress, Evan. Okay? I said it. I’m under a good deal of stress lately.”

Evan sipped his drink. “That’s why I’m here. To wipe away all your stress.”

“You only add to it,” she said quietly.

“Have some wine. It’ll relax you.”

Laney glanced at the goblet filled two-thirds full of rich red wine. “I’m not… I’m not…”

Tears built up in her eyes. She tried valiantly to hide them, but Evan noticed and something powerful tugged at his heart. “Laney, listen. No more jabbing at each other. Your hotels are sinking fast. I know more than you think I know about your problems. Get out while you can. While they’re still worth something.”

“It’s not that bad, Evan. You’re making the situation out to be worse than it is.”

“Maybe you don’t know all the facts.”

“I’m aware of the facts.”

“Your father wouldn’t want to see his hotels go under, Laney. I’m sure he’d rather have you sell out than to have their reputation ruined. Your father was desperate to save them. That’s why he called you home. He didn’t know whom he could trust, other than you. He was under a great deal of stress. And now, you’ve admitted that you’re under that same sort of stress. He wouldn’t want your health to suffer, Laney. And he wouldn’t want you to go broke.”

She gasped. “I’m not going broke, Evan. For heaven’s sake.”

The salad arrived along with a basket of assorted bread and Laney stopped speaking long enough to allow the waiter to place it on the table. Evan watched her pick up her fork and shuffle romaine spears around on her plate. Still, she didn’t eat a bite.

“You will if your hotels don’t stop draining your cash reserves.”

Laney snapped her head up. “For all I know, you’re the one behind the mishaps at Royal. You want them that badly.”

Evan swore under his breath. “If you really believed that, you wouldn’t be sitting here having dinner with me. No, I think you really want to hear what I have to say.”

But they were once again interrupted when the waiter arrived. He set two plates of swordfish, garlic potatoes and creamed spinach before them. The mingling of aromas made his mouth water, but the arrival of the food had the opposite effect on Laney. She turned away from the sizzling hot plate.

“Is everything satisfactory?” the waiter asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Evan answered. “That’s all for now.”

Laney picked up a forkful of greens and put them in her mouth. She chewed as if she were accomplishing a great feat. “I’m not sure what I believe about you, Evan. But I need to know what happened that day between you and my father. And I’d appreciate the truth.”

Laney didn’t believe Evan Tyler. She sat back in the limousine after their dinner, rehashing his denials. Her traitorous stomach refused to calm. Her head swirled. She gazed out the window at the passing moonlit scenery as they drove home, so she wouldn’t have to deal with Evan’s close scrutiny.

It had been business as usual with Nolan Royal that day. Evan had said nothing out of the ordinary. He’d made his case, presented her father a fair deal and was willing to negotiate. He’d generously offered Nolan Royal a consulting position in the company once the deal was completed.

Laney could only imagine how that had gone over with her father. And even as Evan had spoken those well-rehearsed words to her, Laney knew he’d masked his contempt for her father. She’d done her homework and learned that Evan and his brothers had pursued the chain of Swan’s Inns for a long time. They’d wined and dined Mr. Swan personally and spent a good deal of money trying to convince him to sell to Tempest. They wanted to expand, and the Inns would fit perfectly into their plans. But her father had an ace up his sleeve that no one had known about.

His tactics left something to be desired, yes. But Nolan Royal had come up from the ranks the hard way. He knew how to fight dirty if need be to save something he treasured. He had something damaging on the proud, elderly Clayton Swan, something personal and something that might compromise his family life.

What Laney didn’t know, was just how much coercion, if any, it had taken. It could have been simply that her father had made him a better deal all around. Laney wanted to think so. And that meant the Tempest Hotels lost out. And if there was one thing Laney had learned about Evan Tyler, it was he didn’t like losing.

“I’m not giving up, Laney,” Evan said as the driver pulled in to her driveway.

“I’m not selling, Evan.” She couldn’t betray her father’s wishes. She’d made him a solemn promise. She’d work doubly hard to find out the cause of The Royals’ problems, if need be. Preston had increased the security in the hotels and he’d persuaded her to hire a private investigator to get to the root of the trouble. Laney was sure that would help turn things around.

“Thank you for dinner. This concludes our business,” she said rather stiffly. “Goodbye.”

The limo driver opened the door and she feigned a smile at Evan Tyler before getting out.

It was best she didn’t see him again until absolutely necessary. She didn’t trust him. She wouldn’t tell him about the baby. It was too much to deal with right now.

As soon as her feet hit the brick driveway, Laney’s head spun in all directions. She straightened up, but that only made things worse. Her legs went weak and she fought dizziness. She tried blinking it away to gain her equilibrium but when she turned toward her front door, she nearly keeled over.

“What the hell?” Evan was beside her instantly, casting her a concerned look. He grabbed her arm and guided her to the front door slowly. “Damn it, Laney. You should’ve eaten something back at the restaurant.”

He took her purse and rummaged for her house keys, then opened her front door. Her mind fuzzy, she couldn’t very well argue with him; she struggled just to keep upright. “I…can…manage…from here.”

“Right,” he said, lifting her up into both his arms and kicking the door open wide.

“I…didn’t…invite…you…in.” She stared into Evan’s dark eyes for half a second, then her world went black.

It didn’t take Evan long to find her master bedroom, the cottagelike home had airy open rooms. He carried her in and set her carefully onto a king-size bed. “Laney,” he said, tapping her cheek. “Laney, wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered opened. She stared at him. “What h-happened?”

“You fainted,” he said. “You’ll be fine in a second.”

“I’m okay,” she said, her eyes growing wide as she tried to lift up from the bed. “You don’t have to stay.”

He grabbed her shoulders and gently set her back down. “Stay put. You’re in no shape to get up yet. I’ll be right back.”

Evan entered her master bath and grabbed a face towel off the towel rack. He rinsed it under the faucet with cold water and squeezed out the excess. As he turned off the faucet and exited the bathroom, something he’d glimpsed struck him as odd. Quickly, he retraced his steps and glanced down into the wastebasket beside the marble sink.

The box lay at the bottom of the trash, its initials angled up toward him, leaving no room for doubt.

e.p.t.

A home pregnancy test.

Evan stared at the box a good long moment.

And then it all made sense.

Laney was pregnant.

The last few times he’d seen her, she’d appeared pale, sort of washed out, so unlike the healthy tanned Laney he’d known in Hawaii. He’d known her body intimately and noticed she’d lost some weight, as well. Hadn’t he heard the account of his own mother’s pregnancy enough times to recognize it when the symptoms stared him right smack in the face?

How could he have missed those signs?

Laney passed it off as stress. He’d known it was something more. But he wouldn’t have guessed it was that much more. A child. Evan could hardly believe it. If she hadn’t fainted, he might not have found out. Damn it. He had a right to know. When the hell did she plan on telling him?

Anger boiled just below the surface.

Laney’s eyes were closed when he entered her bedroom again and sat on the bed. He set the cool moistened towel across her forehead.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “That feels good.”

Evan noted the serene look on her face, then he glanced around the room filled with girlie things, lace and frills and walls tinted with deep rose-colored shades. On those rose-colored walls, were framed photographs, black and whites, color prints and sepias. She’d surrounded herself with what she loved. Her photographs told her story better than anything else. Her father hadn’t recognized her talent. He hadn’t known the true Elena Royal.

He stared at the one photo he recognized, a view of the Pacific from atop the Haleakala Crater and memories flooded in, banking his rising fury. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

He sucked in a breath. “About the baby.”

Her eyes popped open. Reflexively, her hand braced her abdomen. That gesture spelled it out better than a dozen pregnancy tests.

With a panicked look on her face, she tried getting up again, but he blocked her and shook his head. “You are pregnant, aren’t you, Laney?”

Fear, regret and defeat all registered on her face. She laid her head on the pillow, then nodded.

“How…pregnant?” he asked tersely.

Laney had to know what he was asking. Was he the father? After all, she’d been engaged and ready to be married right before he’d met her.

“Seven weeks.”

He did the math. She’d been with him exactly seven weeks ago on that island.

“Are you sure?”

“The doctor confirmed it.”

“When? How long have you known?”

“I saw him yesterday morning.”

Evan’s jaw clenched. He ran his hands through his hair and sucked in oxygen, then bolted from the bed and paced back and forth to release excess energy. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like raging wildfire. “You’ve seen me twice since then and didn’t tell me?”

Laney sat upright on the bed and rubbed her head. “I was trying to adjust to the idea.”

“Damn it. It’s not an idea. It’s a baby.”

She remained seated, probably fearful of rising and fainting again. That was just fine with him. He needed to hash this out with her. Fainting wasn’t an option.

“I meant you, Evan. I needed to adjust to you being the father.”

Evan let go a string of curses.

Laney stood. He watched her legs wobble a little, but she held her ground. He was red-hot and ticked off. Yet, at the same time concerned for the baby.

His baby.

“Sit down, Laney. Let’s talk about this.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Sit.” He pointed to the bed. “I’ll do all the talking.”

“Imagine that,” she muttered, but she sat anyway.

“I’m marrying you. As soon as I can make the arrangements, we’ll have a small ceremony and—”

“Whoa!” Laney put up a stopping hand. “Are you crazy? I will not marry you.”

Evan scoffed at her refusal. “It’s not negotiable.”

“It’s not negotiable?” A hot gleam of anger crossed her features. “Okay, I lied. It’s not your baby. It’s Joe the bartender’s. Remember him?”

Evan braced his hands on his hips. “Sure do. Good old married Joe. His wife, Tessie, waited tables at the Wind Breeze and never let him out of her sight. Nice try.”

Laney rolled her eyes.

“Don’t deny it, Laney. The baby is mine.” Evan was sure of it now. If it weren’t she wouldn’t have had such a panicked look on her face when he discovered the truth. At least, she’d been honest about the time frame. They’d spent a lot of time in and out of bed those days. Evan would bank his last dollar that she hadn’t been with another man while on the island. She wouldn’t have admitted to him that he was the father otherwise. After all, he knew she thought of him as the enemy, the man responsible for all of her current problems. “And you will marry me.”

Laney frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You’d do anything to get your hands on The Royals, wouldn’t you?”

“If you remember, your hands were on me—all over me, babe, at least half a dozen times. So don’t go pointing fingers. We’re both responsible for this.”

“I’m willing to take full responsibility.” She cast him a dry look. “You’re off the hook.”

“Hell would have to freeze over first. And you know damn well this isn’t about the hotels, Laney. You’re carrying my child. My flesh and blood. I’m giving that child a name. And making damn sure you take care of yourself while you carry him to term.”

“Don’t even suggest I’m not taking care of this child!”

“Prove it. Marry me.”

“My answer is no.” She folded her arms across her middle, shook her head and stared at him.

He stared back. If she wanted a contest of wills, she’d get one. “Let me put it this way. My child will have my name and my protection. If you don’t accept this proposal, I can guarantee your hotels will fail and it won’t be pretty, Laney. You’re out of your depth with this. I’ve rescued failing enterprises and brought new life into them. That’s how Tempest has thrived against worthy competitors. Now, do you or don’t you want to save The Royals?”