Heart Of Gold (23 page)

He'd
blown it. Big time.

“If
you're waiting for me to come around,” she said in a brusque voice,
“I might as well start swimming. Because you'll be in this
bay 'til hell freezes over waiting for me to give you another shot.”

“Fine.”
He turned away, scowling. “Start the engine.”

“With
pleasure.”

Carter
walked up the mountain alone after shooting down Nick's offer to escort her up
the trail. She couldn't wait to be by herself. The trip back from the bay had
been one long, tense silence, punctuated by her terse commands from the helm
and his tight responses. The whole time, she could feel his eyes on her, boring
into her.

Considering
the state she was in, she thought she'd done a bang-up job keeping her
composure on the damn boat. Now that she was alone though, she felt like
collapsing. Her pride gone, her anger dissipated, all she felt was a sick ache.
The fact that she should have known better was just one more shadow in the
nightmare.

When
she'd woken from her blissful doze and rolled over in his lap, she'd expected
to see the joy and happiness she was feeling in his face. Instead, he'd been
looking at her with a cold detachment. It had been a shock, to say the least,
and then he'd followed it up by speaking to her in that condescending way. She
cringed as she remembered what he'd said.

After
making love to her like no one else had or probably could, he'd promptly reverted
to type. He was a pursuer, she thought. And men who liked to chase things
didn't find much amusement in keeping them. It was exactly what she had feared.

If only
she'd listened to her instincts.

When
Carter reached the summit clearing, she looked out over the lake and tried to
pull herself together. She was bitterly sorry she'd let things go so far with
him and felt like throwing her head back and screaming.

Instead
of indulging the impulse, she looked toward the sunset, taking in the
magnificent peaches and pinks that stretched across the horizon. It was what
her grandmother would have called a lovers' sky. One so special, it had to be
shared.

Be
honest, Carter said to herself. What had she expected would happen when they
made love? That he was going to miraculously change and become a sensitive,
accessible, warm and fuzzy kind of guy? That Candace's fate wouldn't fall on
her head? That they'd embark on a long, mutually satisfying relationship?

That she
would be the exception?

Well,
yes. And the other half of the problem was that she hadn't been thinking much
at all. When he'd kissed her, she'd been lost to him. It was that simple.

Lovers'
sky my ass, she thought, turning away.

“Where's
the printout of my daily log?” Carter asked the next day. She was talking
to herself as she rooted around Papercut Central, weeding through loose-leaf
binders, notepads, and files.

“It's
right there, isn't it?” Ellie said, coming to help.

“It
should be. I thought I put it here yesterday before I left.”

"Could
it be in your tent?”

Buddy
poked his head inside. He hadn't shaved or brushed his hair yet, and his
glasses were slightly off center, but he was looking perfectly happy as he
sipped his coffee. “You lose something?”

“I
can't find the site records, either,” Carter murmured.

Frowning,
Buddy put his mug down. “They've got to be here somewhere. When we
finished removing the second skeleton yesterday morning, I spent two hours
writing it all up. I was sitting right here.”

He looked
through the piles of paper on the table and, when he came up empty-handed, they
searched the whole camp.

When that
yielded nothing, Buddy scratched his head. “Maybe someone was up here
yesterday while we were gone.”

“How
long were you guys away?” Carter asked.

“We
went to town. Did some shopping. Got the car back. Probably two, three
hours.”

“But
how would anyone get up here?” Ellie interjected. “Ivan the Terrible
knows where everyone is.”

Her
father shrugged. “There's the access road that Cort uses for the
four-wheeler. It comes up the other side of the mountain. It's a lot less
direct, but no one down at the mansion would know. Except what the hell would
someone want with those records? They're hardly light reading. Who would
care?”

“Conrad
Lyst cares,” Carter said softly. Buddy's eyes shifted to hers.

“Who's
Conrad Lyst?” Ellie asked. “Is he a thief?”

“A
loser, to put it in your terms,” her father replied. “And a rotten
archaeologist. He could dig, up a landfill and not find any garbage. But he's
not' going to traipse all the way into the Adirondacks just
to take a tutorial on digging strategy. Right, Carter?”

When she
didn't answer, two heads snapped in her direction.

Buddy
looked back at his daughter. “Hey, do you mind going to the site and
getting—”

“Are
you trying to get rid of me?”

“Not
at all.”

“Look,
you should just say so,” Ellie told him agreeably. “I'm going to wash
up at the river.”

After the
girl left, Buddy frowned. “What haven't you been telling me?”

“He
was up here before,” Carter answered, feeling badly she hadn't told him
sooner. “The day you and Ellie went to drop off your car in town.”

“Good
Lord. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I've
been meaning to.”

“And
it just didn't come up?”

“It
was no big deal.” Her eyes darted away from the concern on his face.
“He just played bull in the ring and pawed the ground a little.” She
could tell by his worried expression that Buddy didn't buy the lie.

“I
wish you'd said something to me earlier. You tell Farrell?”

“No.
I didn't think it was necessary.”

“But
now we've got papers missing. Farrell should know.”

“No,
he shouldn't.” Carter's voice wavered at the mention of Nick, but she
pressed on. “I've got the documents backed up on my hard drive, and I used
my laptop this morning so I know it's still around. The missing printouts don't
materially affect the dig.”

“But
this is serious. If Lyst came back and took the logs—”

“He'd
have no idea what to do with them. That man's analytical skills are as sharp as
bread dough and besides, the finds are all still here and it's not like he can
barge in and start digging.”

Buddy
frowned, pensively. “If he can't do anything with the logs, why would he
want them?”

“Most
likely, he wants to know if we've found the gold, and he probably kept them to
send a message. He's the type who'd do it just to rattle our cage and make sure
we knew he'd been here.”

Her
friend took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “You know, it's not just
that I don't respect the man. There's something wrong with him.”

You got that
right, she thought.

He looked
over in the direction of the stream. “I think I'm going to stick closer to
Ellie from now on.”

Carter
watched him leave in a hurry and wished there was something reassuring she
could, say. Buddy had always watched over her, and she could tell he was
worried not only about Ellie but about her as well.

She
turned back to the piles of papers and files and started straightening them.
When she heard footsteps on the ground, she said, “Buddy, I should call
the Hall Foundation and give Grace an update. She'll be thrilled about the
skeletons.”

“You
can use the phone down at the house,” Nick said in a level voice.

Carter
swallowed a gasp and stiffened. She refused to turn around and continued to
fiddle with the papers. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I
came to see you.” His tone was low and quiet, as if he didn't want to
startle her.

“Why?”
Her hands were shaking as she picked up a file and pretended to sort through
it. She wanted desperately for him to go away. She needed space to lick her
wounds, not more injuries to fix.

“We
need to talk.”

She threw
the folder down and glared at him. “I'm done talking. Now, if you'll
excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

“Can't
you just listen to me?” She saw a flash of frustration cross his face.

Shaking
her head, she didn't bother to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I
already listened to you yesterday. You were pretty damn eloquent with
the put-downs and, because my short-term memory's working just fine, I remember
every word you said. I don't need to hear it again, thank you very much.”

“Oh
for Chrissakes, Carter, will you give me a break?”

“Now
you're the victim?” She laughed harshly. “You know, it's rare to be
so deluded and not be on medication.”

Nick
pushed a hand through his hair. “I don't want to argue with you. I came up
here to apologize and to see if we can start over.”

“I'm
not interested in starting over. One trip through the grinder with you has been
enough. Besides, I know how you can't abide hysterical girlfriends, and
we wouldn't want to upset you again, would we?”

She
turned and started out blindly for the site but he caught up with her, taking
her arm in a strong grip.

“Let
go of me,” she whispered urgently. “Please, just let me go.”

His
response was equally intense. “I can't do that. I was up all last night,
thinking of you, regretting what I said.”

With an
achingly slow movement, he brought his hand up to her face and stroked her
cheek with the pad of his thumb. She slapped his touch away.

“No!”
she cried out, wrenching away. “I will not let you do this to me.”

She took
a few halting steps backward.

“Carter,
please.”

She shook
her head fiercely. “I'm going to get to work, now. Because the faster I'm
through, the faster I can be free of you.”

His eyes
were unwavering on hers, the pale irises a vivid contrast to their black
centers. There was a long, taut silence.

“Tonight,
you will come down for dinner.” His voice was low and steady. Commanding.

“No.”

“Yes,
you will. To report on the dig.”

His
abrupt change of direction surprised her. “No.”

“I
have a right to know how it's going.”

“Then
Buddy can—”

“Go
to hell. I want you.”

Carter
threw a curse at him. He didn't flinch, just kept looking at her with
single-minded determination.

He took
his sunglasses out of the pocket of his windbreaker and slid them on. “As
you recall in the grant, you have an obligation to report to me when I wish. So
I wish for a report. Tonight. At seven.”

“You
are a bastard.”

“I
know.”

With
those tight words, he disappeared down the trail.

In the
wake of his departure, Carter realized she was shaking from head to foot. She
sat down at the picnic table and put her head in her hands.

The last
thing she wanted to do was be alone with Nick and try to talk about her work.
But what choice did she have? She wasn't going to risk losing the dig and she
knew he was fully capable of following through on his threat to throw them off
his property.

She was
tempted to walk away from the project. Sorely tempted.

But then
Buddy and Ellie came back from the river, full of talk about their work and
what they'd found so far. As she watched her friends' excitement and
enthusiasm, envying their carefree happiness, she didn't want to let them down.

She also
didn't want to explain why she needed to leave.

Seeing
that she had no choice, Carter resolved to go down a little early and call
Grace. She needed to report to the Hall Foundation, but more than that, she was
desperate for moral support.

Much
later, as the sun was setting, Carter put new copies of the logs in her
backpack and walked down the mountain with a heavy heart and a defiant
attitude. She'd taken part of the afternoon off and wandered the trails for a
couple of hours. She'd used the time to armor herself for the evening.

When she
arrived lakeside, she saw the mansion glowing in the gathering darkness. Her
feet slowed as she approached the front door. When she finally raised the door
knocker and let it fall, she was thinking about the first day she'd come to
Nick's house. It felt like years ago.

She was
surprised when he opened the door. He had a glass of scotch in one hand and a
portable phone up to his ear. As he motioned her to come in, a flash of heat
surged in his face only to be buried behind his reserve.

“Right,”
he said to whomever was on the line. He closed the door behind her.
“Listen, you need to adjust the analysis to include debt service payments
of up to $60 million a year, and you're wrong on the depreciation figures
...”

He nodded
for her to follow him. As they walked through the house to his study, his deep

voice
strung words together that made no sense to her whatsoever. It was a foreign
language, full of numbers and percentage points.

“Listen,
I've got to go. Call Ronning. Tell him the boat's sunk and you guys had better
come back with something better. And get Ben involved. He's the best damn
corporate lawyer in the city.” He hung up the phone. “You're
early.”

“I
need to make a call before I talk to you,” she told him stiffly.

“Be
my guest.” Nick held the phone out.

Approaching
him cautiously, she took it while being careful not to have their hands touch.

“You
want some privacy?”

“Yes.”

He gave
her a long look and then shut the door behind himself.

Dialing a
familiar number, Carter quickly updated Grace on the dig and the complications
which had unexpectedly come into her life. Her friend's encouragement made her
feel stronger and she was grateful for the boost. She hoped it would make the
meeting with Nick easier to get through.