A Bad Boy is Good to Find (2 page)

“Where’s she going?”

Her father stubbed out his cigar on a priceless piece of Chinese porcelain, making Lizzie stare. “She’s staying in the pool house.”

“What?” Her voice was barely audible.

“Sleeping with the pool boy, too, for all I know.” His voice had taken on a newly malevolent tone.

She started to shake. “I don’t understand…” Pain shot up her calves from the uncomfortable high heels she shouldn’t have worn.

“No, I don’t suppose you do. You’ve led a sheltered life.” He stared at her from beneath lowered brows. “A very sheltered life. But that’s all about to come to an end.”

She shivered involuntarily at the coldness of his tone. Her parents had obviously gone stark raving mad. She lifted her chin and screwed up her courage. “I have to go. I’m marrying Con tomorrow, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. I’m sorry you couldn’t be supportive, but I…I…I…” Tears rose in her throat and she fumbled in her pocket for a tissue.

Her father cleared his throat. “Tomorrow I’ll be indicted for securities fraud. Most likely I shall be convicted. The company is bankrupt. I am bankrupt, and I’m afraid you are too.”

Lizzie blinked. The fiery ball in the sky outside the window stung her eyes. His words made so little sense that it was a full minute before she could muster a reply.

“But didn’t you just say that Hathaway is one of the leading…”

“Stuck in automatic pilot. I should have inserted the word
was
.”

Silhouetted against the fierce blaze of sun her father suddenly looked like a pathetic shadow.

“Indicted?”

“And imprisoned, most likely.”

“Daddy…” She took a step toward him.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me. I’ve destroyed your mother’s life and now I’ve destroyed yours. I didn’t like that fellow you brought here, but I doubt he’ll want you now you’re poor.”

“Con loves me, though I don’t suppose you can understand that. Besides, my money is in my own name. Grandpa left it to me.”

“You granted me power of attorney. I’m afraid I betrayed your trust.”

She blinked rapidly. The sky darkened as the sun slid behind the tall privet hedge. “It can’t be gone. My advisor would have…”

“Rollins is implicated too. It was meant to be a short-term strategy, just until the market turned around. But the market didn’t turn around.” The growl of his voice trailed off. She couldn’t even see his face in the eerie half-light but his words sank in like poison.

“Oh.” Her own voice sounded strangely disembodied, like it came not from her but from all the expensive antiques, the Aubusson rug, the rare paintings. Or those that were left. She looked up through the gloom to her favorite Degas sketch and found bare wall where the little dancer had always bent over her barre.

Everything’s changed
.

She realized she’d slumped and tried to straighten her back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Her father looked at her. Or at least she thought he did, the room was almost totally dark. Then he laughed, an unearthly cackle that made her jump. She snagged a heel in the carpet then caught her balance on the back of the sofa.

“Do you really think that you could help me? A fat little nobody. The last of the great line of Hathaways.” A vicious laugh hurt her ears as she stood speechless, her gut in turmoil. “You’ve got none of my fire. Probably your mother had an affair with the mailman before you were born.”

He’s gone completely mad
. Panic set in and she found herself stepping back, edging toward the threshold of the room. She fled, heels clacking on the marble foyer floor.

As she crunched across the gravel to her car, every second felt stretched, oddly distorted, like her life was suddenly transformed by an evil spell.

She rolled down the windows as she pulled out of the driveway, gasping for air. She heard a dog bark and a car door slam. People in nearby driveways exhaled city fumes and dragged bags from trunks, ready for another ordinary weekend in the Hamptons.

Nothing in her life had ever been ordinary. The curse of the Hathaway fortune had seen to that. She’d been envied and sneered at and sucked up to and snubbed, all because of money she didn’t earn and didn’t want.

And now she didn’t have it any more.

It should feel like a weight off her shoulders. The millstone of millions was finally gone.

So why, as she drove along Main Street, braking in the bumper to bumper Friday-night-in-August traffic, did she feel utterly naked?

Con would understand. He’d hold her and make her feel whole again.

And tomorrow they’d be married and start a new life.

Wouldn’t they?

Chapter 2

L
izzie was shaking by the time she got back uptown. She parked her car in the garage under her apartment building and dropped her keys getting out. She fumbled around in the dark looking for them on the ground and scraped her knuckles on the cement.

How would he react? He loved her and wanted to marry her, yes, but would he be disappointed that she didn’t come with the brass ring?

Who wouldn’t be?

She found the keys and shoved them into her pocketbook. She wouldn’t need them to open the door since she’d left Con in her bed watching movies. It was nearly midnight after her long drive back from the Island, and she’d bet money—if she had any—that he’d still be there, warm and welcoming, crumpled sheets the only cover on his muscled body.

Con was always there for her. Never too busy to see her, to hold her, to massage her tight shoulders and cook a gourmet dinner with her. When she told her cousin Maisie about him she’d laughed and said he sounded too good to be true, and for once Lizzie had been the smug one. After two years of hearing about Maisie’s engagement to Dwight the Perfect Fiancé and all the boring details of their years-in-the-planning wedding, it was a delicious coup to announce “I’m getting married on Friday.” She didn’t need napkins hand-embroidered with their entwined initials to declare her love for Con.

The elevator jerked to a stop on the eleventh floor and prickles of anxiety crept over her. How would she tell him?

Thick carpet absorbed the sound of her high heels in the eerily silent hallway. The apartment was in her father’s name. She’d have to move.

She and Con would find a new home together. In a nice friendly neighborhood. Not this snooty Upper East Side co-op where you had to have old money to get past the board. Maybe they’d even get a house? Not a big fancy one, but somewhere pretty and comfortable, just for them. She and Con shared the same taste in everything.

Except olives. She liked them, he didn’t.

She rapped on the door with her knuckles, trying to ignore the cantaloupe-sized knot forming in her stomach. She could make out the sound of the TV through the door, and her breathing quickened as she heard it flick off, followed by the tap of bare feet on the parquet.

Maybe she imagined that. How could you hear bare feet through a solid door?

I’m not an heiress any more. Sorry
.

She heard the lock slide back and the door opened. Con smiled at her with that lopsided grin that sent her heart skittering every time.

“I missed you.” His voice and those dark sleepy eyes were just what she needed. She stepped over the threshold and threw her arms around him. He responded instantly, wrapping himself around her, holding her tight—so tight—absorbing all the stress and hurt that dogged her.

With her head on his chest and his strong arms around her back, she felt safe. Everything was going to be okay.

“That bad, huh?”

It had been her idea to go tell her parents about their planned wedding. He’d wanted to get married and deal with the fallout later. He knew he hadn’t made a top-notch impression on them last week, though neither of them could figure out why.

They’d decided to get married right away, with a minimum of pomp and ceremony. To make it just about them and their commitment to each other. They didn’t have anything to prove.

“Poor baby.” He kicked the door closed and kissed her neck, stroked her back. His warm soft lips on her skin, the tickle of teeth, his tongue on her earlobe sent her fears running and stirred up a swarm of excitement.

“Con, wait…”

He didn’t. He kissed her cheekbone and her eyelid, swaying her as she closed her eyes. Already lifting her away to a place where only they existed and where thoughts of—

“Sweetheart, stop…”

He still didn’t. His kissing became more insistent as his mouth roamed over her neck. His hands ran up and down her clingy dress, stirring warmth in her skin and making her breasts tingle.

Before she knew it she was on the bed with her legs in the air and Con moving over her in that magic way that always made her fall to pieces and rise up stronger, no matter how many times they made love.

When they crashed to the sheets together, panting and sweating, she clung to him. Wanted to hold tight to the bliss pouring through her body and soothing her hurt mind.

“Feeling better now, babe?

She nodded, still not wanting to speak and break the spell. She opened her eyes just enough to see his face. His strong features and harsh, masculine beauty always shocked her a little. Usually a neat “short back and sides,” his straight brown-black hair hung in his eyes, which shone in the glow of the light from the hall. Soft with love.

She smiled as he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Why do I always smile when you do that?”

“Because you love me.” He said it simply.

“I do love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible.” She pushed his messy hair out of his eyes, and he smiled too. He lay next to her on the tangled sheets, head propped on his elbow, gorgeous muscles defined even in the scant light.

“Con?” She paused. Was it her imagination or did a tiny crease appear between his eyebrows. Maybe he’d picked up on her odd tone of voice.

“Yes, babe?”

I’m not rich any more
.

She hesitated. Not sure what words to use. None seemed to sum up the magnitude of what had happened or to put it in terms that made sense.

“My father said I couldn’t marry you.”

“And what did you say?” There was definitely a furrow between his brows.

“I said I love you, and we’re getting married tomorrow.”

The crease eased a bit. “You had me worried there. I thought you might be about to break my heart.”

“I’d never do that.” Lizzie swallowed. “But about the money…”

“What about it?” He looked relaxed again, a smile spreading across his mouth.

He wouldn’t care about the money—would he?

“It’s gone.” She looked right at him as she said it, wanting him to understand.

Con pushed up higher on his elbow, stared at her like he was trying to make sense of it. “What do you mean?” His smile faded a little.

“My dad gambled in the stock market and lost it all.”

“But your grandfather left the money to you. In your name.”

He did look worried. A saw blade ratchet in her stomach reminded her she’d eaten no dinner. Maybe that’s why she felt lightheaded.

“He did, but I gave my father power of attorney. He’s always managed it for me.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “He’s being indicted.”

“Indicted for what?” Con’s voice had lost its velvet softness.

“Securities fraud. He says he’ll be convicted.”

Con stared at her. Her breathing became shallow, and she struggled to keep it inaudible. Suddenly chilly, she fumbled with the sheet and pulled it over herself. Con had to move to free it from under his body, and she could see tension in the taut six-pack of his stomach.

Panic snuck through her as the frown deepened on his handsome face.

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” He touched her chin. “We’ll get it sorted out tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. “He said my financial advisor was in on it.”

“So how much is left?”

“I don’t know. Let me check the balance online. Gosh, what’s my password, I don’t even remember it. I must have it written down somewhere.”

The glowing laptop screen illuminated their faces as grim reality sunk in. Not only was there no actual money in her brokerage account, but someone had authorized margin loans worth more than thirty million dollars. The margin had been called and all existing stocks dumped at market price two days ago. With two million still owed.

“Holy shit.” Con chewed his finger in a way she’d never seen him do before.

“My job will be gone too, I suppose. We’ll have to make it on your salary until I find something new.”

Con looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

“I know it won’t be easy.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “But we’ll be fine. I’ll have to move out of the apartment since it belongs to my father, but we can find a place of our own. We can live frugally, start saving…”

A new sense of resolve filled the odd hollowness she’d felt since leaving her parents’ house. Maybe in a weird way this would actually be for the best. “I don’t have expensive tastes, I never have. I actually like the idea of living like a normal person. Of having car payments and mortgage payments and having to save for vacations.”

Con still stared at the laptop screen, his lips slightly parted. “Car payments?” he rasped at last.

“You know, buying stuff like regular people do, rather than plunking down forty thousand in cash. I know it sounds rude to ask, but how much do you earn?”

“What?” Con’s dark eyes stared at her, uncomprehending.

“Your salary, what is it?”

“I don’t have a salary.” His voice had a strange sound to it.

“You get paid on a project-by-project basis?”

“Kind of...um, yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair and stood up. The bedside light glazed his firm muscles as he crossed the room, cursed aloud, then strode back. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was completely naked.

An icy trickle of fear crept along Lizzie’s spine.

“You’re a mechanical engineer, right?” She didn’t like the ugly suspicion in her voice.