Fortune's Legacy (13 page)

“We agreed,” she was saying, “that what happens here, stays here, and that's just how it's going to be.”

A flicker of irritation erupted inside him. “Business as usual, then?”

“We're two mature adults,” she said firmly. “I'm sure we'll be able to handle the situation at work with no problem.”

“So nothing changes.” Why did that sound so impossibly sad? What they'd found here together deserved more, he realized. More than either of them was willing to give.

She didn't look any happier about that than he felt, but she nodded. “It's the only way, don't you think?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to grab her, hold her, bury his face in the curve of her neck and tell her that he wanted everything between them to change. He wanted to dance with her again. Go on picnics with her. Take long walks in the moonlight.

But he couldn't.

They'd made a deal.

And maybe, in the long run, that would turn out to be a good thing.

B
y late the next morning, the storm outside had died, but the one inside the cabin was just getting started.

With the power back on, the phone was working and so was the television. Its muttering voice had become an intrusion as newscasters gleefully reported on the disastrous snowstorm that had rocked areas of Colorado.

Garrett occupied himself with the news channels, and he and Kyra hadn't spoken more than a word or two to each other in hours. She missed the closeness they'd had the night before, the solidarity of the two of them surviving together.

Now the world was creeping up on them, demanding they pay attention to more than themselves.

And she didn't like it one little bit.

Sunlight reflecting off the banked snow pierced the cabin windows, so blinding Kyra had to shade her eyes just to look around the room.

Not much to see, she mused. Considering what had happened here, she thought the carpet should be steaming or at least singed. Instead, the place looked just as it had when they'd arrived the day before, frozen half to death.

They'd cleaned up. Garrett had swept out the hearth and stacked more firewood. He'd left a check for five hundred dollars on the kitchen table, along with a note thanking their benefactor for the use of the cabin.

Now everything was done.

All they had to do was wait for the cab they'd ordered to come and pick them up.

She walked to the front door, opened it and stepped out onto the porch. A brilliant blue sky stretched overhead, and a muffled roar in the distance heralded the arrival of snowplows, clearing the highway. She shrugged deeper into her coat when a cold, sharp wind whistled through the stand of trees surrounding the cabin and pushed at her—as if even nature were trying to keep her here. With Garrett.

Her insides tightened, released and then tightened again. She was so incredibly tempted to admit to him that she didn't want to go to the business meeting. Didn't even want to go back to Texas.

All she really wanted was to stay here.

With him.

Thankfully, though, sanity prevailed, and she somehow managed to keep her mouth shut. Because frankly, what if she did say something like that to him? What if she spilled her brand-new feelings out at his feet and he wasn't interested?

What then?

God, how would she ever be able to look at him again, much less work with him?

But then, how was she going to be able to sit in meetings with him and
not
remember what it was like to cradle his body within her own?

Groaning, she lifted one hand and rubbed at the spot between her eyebrows. Life had just gotten so much more complicated.

“You okay?” He'd come up behind her soundlessly, and she jumped in surprise at his voice, low and intimate.

“Yeah,” she replied, and wondered when she'd gotten so damn good at lying. “I'm fine. Just wondering when the car will be here.”

“Soon,” he said. “According to the news, most of the roads are already cleared and crews are working on the rest of them.”

“Good,” she whispered, her gaze fixed blindly on a distant tree. “That's good.”

“Yeah,” he repeated, and stepped out beside her on the porch. Leaning one shoulder on a newel post, he shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “I put a call in to the people we were meeting with. Explained the situation.”

Nodding, Kyra told herself to keep her voice even,
her emotions calm. Just as he was. “Since they live here, I'm guessing they understood.”

“They did. We've postponed the meeting for a few weeks.” He turned, braced his back against the post and said, “When the cab comes, it'll take us to the airport and we'll take the jet home.”

Home.
One little word that could somehow be either filled with everything that mattered, or be a reminder that you had nothing to go back to.

Because really, Kyra thought now, her brain racing as Garrett stood beside her in the sunlight, what was waiting for her in Red Rock? An empty condo. Twelve-hour days at work. No real friends beyond Isa. No family of her own. No one to love.

God.

She'd hadn't been looking for love, for pity's sake. Why was it that suddenly love was all that seemed to matter? And why, now that she'd found it, was it even further away from her than before?

“Kyra?”

She turned and looked up at Garrett. His blue eyes were a shade lighter than the post-storm sky, but they were every bit as vast and just as mysterious. “What is it?”

Did she sound as tired as she felt? His eyes narrowed on her and she hoped to heaven he didn't do something disastrous, like give her a friendly hug. If he did, she just might humiliate herself by clinging to him like a barnacle on the hull of an old fishing boat.

But he didn't reach out to her. He kept his hands
stuffed in the pockets of his slacks, even while his gaze locked on hers. “I just wanted to say…”

His voice trailed off, letting her know that whatever he wanted to say wasn't going to get said. And maybe that was just as well.

If he apologized or something, she'd have to hit him.

“It's okay, Garrett,” she said quickly, filling the silence that seemed suddenly so loud. “You don't have to say anything. I think we both said everything that needed to be last night.”

“I think you're wrong,” he said quietly. “But the hell of it is,” he added, his voice dropping even lower, “I'm not sure what the right thing is.”

“Well,” she stated with a wry smile as she shifted her gaze to the tree line again, “that makes two of us.”

 

Garrett glanced across the wide aisle at Kyra, who was curled up in the leather seat, hands tightly clenched, staring out the jet's window at the ground rushing past them.

Just as the night had rushed past them.

He wanted to go to her. To sit down beside her, pull her into his arms and admit that he didn't want to leave what they'd shared in that cabin. But to do that, he had to risk not only his heart again, but his pride.

And damned if he was willing to do that.

Not even to recapture what they'd had. What they'd found together.

The thought of never being with her again ate at him. But the idea of asking for more and not getting it was enough to keep him quiet.

The jet lifted off the runway, and Garrett leaned back in his seat with the pull of gravity. Soon they'd be home in Texas—where they lived separate lives—and this one little blip on the radar screen would be buried under the mundane details of working together.

His fingers tightened on the folded newspapers in his lap. Nothing to be done about it. They'd made a deal and he'd stick to it, whether he wanted to or not. He flicked her another quick glance, felt his heart squeeze in his chest, and knew that this would be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

Grimly focusing his concentration on anything but his racing thoughts, he opened the paper he'd picked up in the airport lounge. His gaze skimmed the headlines, then dropped lower, until just beneath the fold a line of bold black type caught his attention.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

“What?” Kyra shifted in her seat.

“I don't believe this,” Garrett said, and stood up, clutching the newspaper and focusing his gaze on the damning article. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Depends,” she said, her voice even as she stood up and took the paper from him.

“Don't—” Garrett snatched at it, wanting to grab it back before she could see.

“Are you kidding me?” Her voice hitched until it sounded like a shriek.

“It's a mistake,” he said, and this time he succeeded in taking the paper from her limp hands.

“Is it?” she demanded, snatching the paper away
from him again, dropping her gaze to the article in question. “‘Voltage Energy Company of Red Rock, Texas, is being investigated after accusations made by a disgruntled employee. The unnamed source claims to have proof that Voltage is conspiring to build an energy monopoly with Fortune TX, Ltd. Kyra Fortune,'” she read, her fury evident, “‘a member of the Texas Fortune family, is considered to be a key player in the venture. As a newly promoted VP, she is allegedly serving as liaison between Voltage and her family's company.'”

“Kyra…” Garrett reached for her, but she stepped back quickly, never looking at him. Never taking her gaze from the folded paper she held in two white-fisted hands.

“There's more,” she muttered darkly. “‘When asked for a comment, Voltage CEO Miles Henderson was quoted as saying, “The investigation will come to nothing. Voltage has nothing to hide. And Ms. Kyra Fortune, a valued employee here at Voltage, has done nothing but excellent work.”'”

“I knew Miles was up to something,” Garrett said when Kyra's voice trailed off. “Why bring you into it?”

“Why would anyone do that?” she countered, finally lifting her gaze to his.

Garrett could have sworn he saw actual sparks shooting from her eyes. Every line of her body was rigid and a high flush stained both her cheeks.

“How the hell do I know why someone would do this?”

“Oh, I don't know,” she said, tossing the paper down onto her seat. “You knew plenty of other things.”

He braced himself, knowing that another storm was
coming and that this one would blow even colder than the blizzard they'd survived. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You let me think I was going to be fired, when all the time you
knew
I was getting a promotion.”

“All right, yes…” Right now he was wishing he hadn't played that game.

“And…” she said, stabbing her index finger into his chest, “you knew that I wasn't getting promoted because I earned it—which I sure as hell did—but because I'm a Fortune!” She waved a hand at the paper. “Henderson and the others wanted to
use
me to get to Fortune TX, Ltd. Didn't they? This was all a plan, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” Garrett admitted, “I knew that the promotion was because of your name. But that's it. If there were other plans, I wasn't in on them. I suspected, but couldn't be sure.”

But he'd for damn sure confront Miles Henderson the minute they got back to Red Rock. Garrett didn't like being used any more than Kyra did. And he had the distinct feeling there was a lot more to this monopoly accusation than he knew about.

“Damn it!” She threw both hands high and turned away to stomp down the wide aisle. When she reached the back wall, she spun around to glare at him. “I worked my butt off for that company. I worked nights, weekends. I got the big accounts. I've produced real results for Voltage and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he countered. “You've worked hard, but so has everyone else.” A quick flare of anger erupted inside him. Damned if he'd be accused of using her when
he'd fought his superiors about the idea. “I was against this, Kyra. I didn't want them giving you that job this way.”

“Or any way,” she snapped.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, please. You've been against me since day one.” She walked back toward him, fire leaping in her eyes and danger pulsing off her like a thick, red aura. “You've shut me down any number of times. You don't take my ideas, you fight me even when you know I'm right.”

“That's my job,” he shouted, looming over her. She didn't flinch, and a part of him admired that, even when he wanted to grab her and give her a good shake. “I'm supposed to be the one to consider or reject ideas based on what I believe is best for the company. Not what Kyra Fortune believes. Because whether you want to admit it or not, you're not always right, Kyra.”

“Oh, that's for sure,” she said, a withering smile on her face. “I was wrong in thinking that last night would change anything. That maybe I'd misjudged you.”

“Last night—”

“But I was right before,” she interrupted, “back when I thought you were a pompous ass.”

He scraped one hand across his mouth to keep from letting this degenerate into a mudslinging match. “I didn't know about the damn merger, Kyra.”

“And I'm supposed to believe you.”

“Why would I lie?” Fury licked at his insides and Garrett fought to restrain it.

“Why wouldn't you?” Then her voice dropped to a whisper, as if all the air had suddenly left her body.
“My God. Did you really believe that I would go along with Voltage's plans to use me? To use my name?”

“Of course not. I told you I only suspected that.”

She didn't believe him. He could see the distrust in her eyes, and he had no way to combat it. No way to convince her. So instead, he fought fire with fire, giving in to the temper crouched within. “You know, you've never made a lot of friends at Voltage.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she demanded.

“Maybe if you had, people wouldn't have been so eager to use you.”

This time she flinched, and he had the dubious satisfaction of knowing his jab had hit home. Great. Score one for him. He'd hurt a woman he cared about.

“Right.” She turned away, dismissing him.

Garrett grabbed her upper arm and spun her around to face him. “That was a low shot. I'm sorry.”

“Yes,” she agreed snidely. “You are.”

He sighed. “I'm not your enemy, Kyra.”

Kyra looked up at him and saw a stranger. Her world was rocking and he was right in the middle of it. For years, he'd been her boss and he'd irritated her, annoyed her and infuriated her.

But she'd never thought of him as a sneaky, back-door kind of guy. She'd always felt that he was at least honest. Then last night she'd seen a whole new side of him. She'd discovered warmth instead of cold, fire instead of ice, and depth rather than the shallows.

Now, though, she didn't know what to think.