High-Stakes Passion (9 page)

T
rapped.

With no escape. Audrey rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension lodged there.

Mark had taken Devon out to the corral for a lesson, and Audrey spied on them from the kitchen window. Watching Mark hold her nephew on the little pony, she fell more deeply in love with the man. She allowed herself to fantasize that they were married, and Devon was theirs and this was her house.

And that she'd never deceived him.

How pathetic was that?

The phone rang, jarring her from her dismal musings. Claire was calling from the hospital. Danny had a circulatory infection, not pneumonia, thank goodness. Still, he wouldn't be discharged for two or three more days. Until then, Audrey was caught in a hell of her own making.

That night after dinner, she hauled a few kitchen chairs into the den and helped Devon stretch blankets across them. Her nephew wanted to “camp out” in front of the fireplace, as the ranch hands sometimes did. Audrey crawled inside the makeshift tent and refilled the bowl with the last of the popcorn. “After you finish this, it's time for bed.”

“Aw, I don't wanna go to bed.”

A deep voice answered, “You heard your aunt Audrey. No arguing.” Mark bent down, grasped Devon under his arms, tossed him in the air and caught him.

Audrey was mesmerized. Wearing that sleeveless sweatshirt, his biceps were displayed to perfection. What was it about the man's arm muscles that literally weakened her knees? Okay, so it was his muscles, and his lips and his eyes….

And the caring way he treated her nephew.

The boy squealed and giggled. A tender look softened Mark's face as he lowered Devon and ruffled his hair. “Got any popcorn for me?” He tugged on the heavy recliner until it faced the fire, and settled into it as if for a long, cozy stay.

“Tell me a story?” Devon asked, handing Mark the bowl of popcorn.

“All right, but you gotta crawl in your tent and lie down.”

Devon scrambled to comply and Mark began. “The first time I saw Lone Star, he was bucking and neighing in a big, fancy corral.”

As captivated as the boy, Audrey sat on the floor listening to Mark tell how he'd outbid everyone at the auction with his first-prize money to buy the horse.

When Mark stopped speaking, she looked over at Devon. He was fast asleep. “Guess I better put him to bed.”

“He's all right for now. Want some coffee?”

Oh, yes, she thought. And you. For the rest of my life. He started to rise, but she shot up from the floor. “I'll get it,” she mumbled as she slipped past him. She needed to put some distance between them.

When Audrey returned, she handed Mark a mug and sank back to the floor beside the tent.

“Thanks.” Mark accepted his mug, but didn't drink. He sat on the edge of his chair, watching her, his gaze intense.

Distracted and nervous, she took a sip of her coffee. The hot liquid burned her mouth and she hissed her pain.

Mark bent forward, laid his palm on her cheek and lifted her chin. “You all right?” Gazing at her lips, he ran his thumb gently across them. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

Thoughts of the picnic swirled in her head as his mouth opened and he pressed closer. It would be disastrous to succumb to his seduction. How could she when she'd lied to him? She pulled away and scooted out of reach. “Claire says Danny will be home in a few days, so I'll be taking Devon home first thing Thursday morning.”

Mark leaned back with a loud sigh. “We'll take him in the jet.”

She made herself meet his gaze. “That's not necessary. But thank you for letting him stay here. He's had such a wonderful time.”

Mark gazed at the toddler as she spoke, but his mind seemed far away. “He was really good on the pony. Reminds me of my brother.”

A piece of the puzzle snapped into place. The boy in the picture. “You have a brother? What's his name?”

Mark gazed into space, lost in thought. His mouth turned down and his eyes took on a haunted look. “Keith.”

She wanted so desperately to know everything about Mark. Would he finally talk about his past? Audrey waited.

He continued, “He'll be twenty-two this month. I remember the time Helen made a cake for his seventh birthday. And after we ate it, John took us to the Stockyards and we got to ride a horse. I was fourteen, and John said I was a natural. That was the day I decided I wanted to own a horse someday.”

Helen and John? What about his parents?

“Does Keith live close?”

His jaw clenched tight. “Last I heard.” He stood, reached for the poker by the fireplace and started jabbing the solitary log.

Last he heard? About his brother? “What about your mom and dad?”

He spun around abruptly. “They're dead,” he said fiercely.

Audrey flinched. “Oh, I'm sorry.” It was lame, but she knew from experience there was nothing else to say. She wondered how old he'd been when they died.

Breaking into her thoughts, he turned toward her nephew, his face now an unreadable mask. “We should get him in bed.”

Mark picked up Devon, and Audrey tried to take him, but he wouldn't let her. She followed them up the stairs, worried as she watched him slowly climb the steep steps, wondering if it caused him pain.

After getting Devon tucked into bed, she quietly said good-night.

Mark stared at her a minute as they stood in the doorway. She could hear his ragged breathing, but he didn't speak or even attempt a kiss. He just turned and headed back down the stairs.

It scared her to realize she'd wanted him to touch her, had yearned to feel his lips on hers again. With a trembling intake of breath, she knew that when she left on Thursday, she might as well tear out her heart and leave it here at the ranch, crushed on the floor.

 

Mark grabbed the back of his shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it on the floor. Why the hell had he mentioned Keith? What had possessed him?

He sat on his bed to tug off his boots. He never talked about his past. Never. But it seemed from the moment she'd arrived, Audrey had bewitched him. He thought about her constantly.

His hands trembled as he stood and carefully unzipped his jeans. Since when had he lost control? Even as he'd carried the kid, and his leg had throbbed, he'd wanted to lean down and kiss her. He shucked off the jeans and stalked to the shower, turning the faucet to cold.

When John and Helen had come wandering back from their walk at the picnic, he thought he'd explode. If he'd been thinking straight, he'd never have started something in the open like that, knowing there wasn't enough time to finish it.

But that was just it—he wasn't thinking straight. He was supposed to be seducing her. Not the other way around, damn it. He'd better be careful, or she'd have him pouring out his whole miserable life story, like some pitiful jerk on one of those stupid talk shows.

He shook his head. Like hell, she would.

 

When she first heard the phone ringing Tuesday morning, Audrey thought maybe it was Claire calling. She rushed from the laundry room to answer it, hoping it wasn't her boss. She'd left him a voice mail, but hadn't heard back from him.

By the time she got to the kitchen, she heard Helen say into the phone, “Yes, I'll tell her.”

As Audrey stood in the doorway, Helen hung up the phone and turned to her. “What's going on, Audrey? That man said he was your boss.”

The world turned black at the edges of her vision, and she grabbed the door frame. She just couldn't do this anymore. The strain of living a lie, betraying Mark, had taken its toll. She could never expose Mark behind his back. His adoring fans would just have to keep wondering about his mysterious disappearance from the public eye.

How could she feel so strongly about this place, and its people, in such a short time? And why the heck hadn't she considered that possibility before she'd cooked up this harebrained scheme?

For as long as she could remember, she'd always wanted to be a journalist. But, until recently, she'd never believed in her abilities enough to try and make her dream come true. And now, she wasn't sure she wanted to if this was the price she had to pay. She just didn't have the killer instinct to do this job.

Finally, with a sigh, Audrey said, “He is. He's the editor for
Dallas Today.
” She pulled out a chair and plopped down, deciding to come clean with Helen. She was relieved that she could share her burden, like a sinner confessing to a priest, asking forgiveness, hoping for mercy.

She told Helen everything. When she finished, she searched Helen's face for a clue to her fate.

Helen was quiet a moment, but she didn't seem upset. “So you've decided not to write the article? You'll lose your chance for a promotion?”

“I swear, Helen, I couldn't betray Mark. Not now. I'll figure out some other way to become a staff writer.”

“Well, then, all we have to do now is tell Mark.” She waved a hand as if the whole thing were swept away like the piles of empty beer bottles Audrey had found her first day there.

Audrey cringed at the thought of telling Mark the truth. “I just can't. He'd hate me.”

“He'll be madder than a cattle-prodded bull at first, but I bet he could be persuaded to get over it.” Helen raised her brows and widened her eyes. “And Jim tells me you're a betting woman.”

Audrey could feel her face heat at the memory of that poker game. How had she ever gotten the nerve to do such a thing? Helen couldn't possibly know the whole story.

Helen stood and hugged her. “Tell him, Audrey. You and Mark are overdue for a long talk.” She headed for the back door and turned. “I miss being around little ones. Why don't John and I take Devon to the zoo tomorrow?” Her mouth turned up in a secretive smile. “I'll ask him if he wants to come over after dinner and spend the night so we can get an early start.”

After lunch, Audrey heard the doorbell and opened the door to a fresh-faced man in his early twenties dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He had blond hair and wore small, wire-framed glasses.

“Yes?”

He hesitated, brows furrowed in uncertainty. “I'm here to see Mark.” He looked past her shoulder, as if she were hiding Mark behind her back.

“He won't be back till this afternoon.”

“Yeah, Helen told me. I'll wait. You must be the new housekeeper. Audrey?” He ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was disturbingly familiar.

“Yes. Audrey Tyson. Are you a friend of Mr. Malone's?”

He stood a moment in silence, folded his arms and sighed. “Mark's never mentioned me? I'm Keith Malone, his brother.”

 

Under camouflage of pouring him a glass of tea, Audrey hid her curiosity. Keith looked nothing like his brother. He was shorter, slighter and had lighter hair.

He accepted her offer of a drink and sat at the kitchen table. Keith frowned and looked at the glass of tea he clutched in both hands. “After Mark's accident, I realized I needed to see my brother. But Mark wouldn't let anybody into his hospital room. He wouldn't return my calls. So when Helen told me he'd sobered up, I thought I'd take a chance and just show up.”

Audrey didn't know what to say to that, so she remained silent.

He looked through the doorway toward the den. “Helen says you've done wonders for the house. But she didn't mention kids.”

Devon was watching cartoons. “No, my nephew just arrived yesterday. Mark was kind enough to let him visit.”

Keith looked impressed and surprised at the same time. “She said you've made a big difference around here.” He began to tell how John and Helen had been their next-door neighbors in Fort Worth. About how they would play catch with John, and eat Helen's homemade cookies. “I've kept in touch over the years. I talk to Helen every week.”

By the time they'd finished a couple of glasses of tea, Keith was so open and friendly, Audrey ventured a question about his parents. “It must have been hard not having a mother or
a father.” She thought of her own mother dying when she was so young. “How old were you when they died?”

Keith's jaw dropped and his brows rose. “Did Mark tell you that? Our parents aren't dead, Audrey.”

K
eith refused to say any more on the subject, except that he needed to talk to Mark. “It's past time. I haven't seen him in years.”

Audrey could hardly contain her shock. Keith had only been a kid the last time he'd seen Mark. What would Mark do when he saw Keith here?

Audrey had barely finished the thought when she heard boot steps on the porch, and Mark opened the door, calling for Devon to meet him at the corral for more riding lessons.

He stopped midstride and stared at Keith.

Before anyone could speak, Mark turned and strode out. But not before Audrey saw his face. What little tan he'd acquired this week had paled, and his eyes had widened in—what? It was more than shock. It was the look of a tortured man.

Keith shoved his chair back and raced out the back door
after Mark. Audrey shut her eyes and prayed. She grabbed a brownie and sat at the table, using all her willpower not to go watch what happened from the window. All she could think about was the look of agony on Mark's face.

After several more minutes, Keith stepped into the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his jeans, head hanging. Audrey hesitated, and the silence became awkward. “Would you like a brownie?”

“No, thanks.” He paced to the sink and looked out the window. “Would you convince him to talk to me, Audrey?”

Audrey gave an unladylike snort. “You'd be better off asking John or Helen.”

Keith turned and leaned against the counter. After a long, considering stare, he shrugged. “Helen seemed to think Mark would listen to you.”

She shook her head. “I'm just a housekeeper.”

“That's not what Helen says. I'd appreciate it if you'd try. Please?” Keith implored.

How could she say no to that?

 

She found Mark in the barn, in a stall toward the back, saddling the pony. For a few gutless moments, Audrey considered leaving him to his solitude. Where was that assertiveness she'd been cultivating? What the heck was she supposed to say? Obviously a subtle approach was needed. She stepped forward and grabbed the top of the stall door for courage.

“Why won't you talk to your brother?” Okay, so subtlety wasn't her strong point.

Mark whipped around to gape at her, fury sparking in his eyes. “None of your damned business,” he snapped. He went back to buckling the bridle.

Audrey shrugged and lowered her head. “I know. But, he's your brother and he cares about you.”

Mark grunted.

“He does! You should hear the way he talked about you.” She stepped closer. “Everyone deserves a chance to apologize. Life's too short to hold grudges.”

Mark turned and narrowed his eyes at her. “You don't know what you're talking about, Audrey. Just let it go.”

She raised her chin and glared at him. “I can't. I think family is important. No matter what he did, he was only a kid, and he wants to work things out now, so—”

“He didn't do anything! I'm the one who let
him
down. I left him there alone to fend for himself.” He swung around and pitched his brush against the wall at the far end of the stable. “Damn it! You're worse than a fly at a picnic.” He stalked toward her. “Just stay the hell out of it!” He pushed his way past her, marching toward the outer doors.

 

Late that afternoon, Mark was trying to free a cow from a sinkhole when Keith came loping up on Shadow. Aw, hell. Guess he'd just helped himself to the bay gelding. The frightened cow fought and squirmed, bawling loudly, and Mark returned his attention to the job at hand. He lassoed the cow's neck and tied the other end of the rope around his saddle horn. Shoving his hat down hard on his head, he pulled back on Lone Star's reins. The rope stretched taut as Mark backed up, but the cow slipped on the incline and slid back down.

With a messy splat, Keith jumped knee-deep into the mud hole and pushed on the cow's flank. Without his glasses, and sporting that innocent grin, he looked like the kid Mark remembered from a lifetime ago.

“Damn it, Keith!” He dismounted, jumped into the mud and shoved his little brother away from the cow. “One hard kick could kill you!”

Keith clamped his mouth shut, trudged toward Mark and shoved him hard in the chest. “What do you care?”

Mark landed on his backside. He pushed up from the sticky muck. Keith thought he didn't care? All the emotions from his childhood swept through Mark's body, pulsing in his blood. He charged on Keith, bent and grabbed him around the waist, trying to force him out of the mud. White-hot anger and pure adrenaline surged, giving him the strength to lift Keith and wrestle him to the hard ground. They both landed in a heap at the edge of the hole. Mark raised himself to his hands and knees. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I always cared.”

Keith rolled to the balls of his feet and grabbed him by the collar. He yanked tight and pressed his nose against Mark's. “I'm okay now. It's over.”

Mark stared into his kid brother's solemn eyes. He couldn't believe this self-assured man was the same kid he'd deserted. It felt as if a burden had been lifted from him. Keith was okay. He'd survived, better than Mark had. He wanted to say something to his younger brother, but words escaped him.

Keith scrambled up and extended his hand to Mark, reminding Mark of all the times he'd helped Keith off the ground after a backyard tussle. He'd locked that part of his life away for so long, never admitting how much he missed his little brother. He cleared his throat to dislodge the lump that had formed there, wanting to refuse the hand held out to him. He didn't need it.

But maybe his brother did. He slapped his gloved palm into Keith's.

Keith looked down at himself, covered in sludge, and burst into laughter.

Mark tried to smile, but couldn't seem to make the corners of his mouth turn up.

Smacking the mud off his jeans, Keith turned and grabbed Shadow's reins. “You had a great career.”

Mark headed for his horse, which still held the rope taut. He was surprised the mention of those rodeo days didn't bother him. “Let's take care of this cow and head in. I'm starved. Maybe there's some chicken and dumplings from last night.”

Keith raised his eyebrows and whistled. “Did Audrey make it? I wonder if she's seeing someone.”

Mark spun around and glared at his brother. “She's taken. Find your own.”

Keith grinned. “Interesting.”

The red haze lifted and Mark blinked a couple of times. He drew in a deep breath and allowed half his mouth to lift in a smirk. “What's your degree in? Psychology?”

 

That night after dinner, Audrey brewed a fresh pot of coffee and then busied herself with laundry.

Tired from the emotional strain of the past couple of days, she poured herself a cup and went out to the back porch to curl up on the glider and watch the sunset. With Devon spending the night at Helen's, Audrey was alone. The long night stretched before her.

Keith was heading back to Denton tonight. This afternoon, as they'd stepped into the kitchen, Audrey had glimpsed Mark slapping Keith on the back. Keith had grinned from ear to ear. It looked as if they'd worked things out.

She wished it were that easy for her. She'd be leaving
in a couple of days, too. That thought caused a physical ache in her chest. A part of her wanted to confess and throw herself into Mark's arms, begging forgiveness, another part knew he wouldn't grant absolution that easily. It had taken him eleven years to talk with his brother.

The small portion of his past he'd given away yesterday gnawed at her. Why had he been estranged from his brother? And why had he lied about his parents being dead? She didn't care about the article anymore. She just wanted to know.

Keith appeared in the doorway, a mug of coffee in one hand. “I hear you're a pretty good poker player.”

Audrey choked on her coffee. “Who told you that?” she asked after she quit gasping.

He made a gesture with his free hand that asked, “Mind if I sit down?” At her nod, he made himself comfortable next to her. After he drained his cup, he continued. “Mark says you distracted him with your, um, your—you had an unfair advantage.” Bright patches of red appeared on Keith's cheeks, and he tried in vain to avoid glancing at her chest.

She bit her top lip, trying to keep a straight face. They must have had quite a talk. Finally, she gave in to her laughter. “It didn't help that he was drunk. Anyway, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”

Keith took off his glasses, pulled a perfectly pressed handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans and began cleaning the lenses. “You don't have to justify your actions to me. As far as I'm concerned, anyone who could get Mark to stop drinking and work the ranch again deserves a medal.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Or at least a kiss,” he said quietly, his eyes full of admiration and gratitude.

Audrey smiled at him and put her hand on his arm,
wishing she'd had a brother like him. If only he knew how she'd deceived them all, she thought guiltily.

“Well, now, isn't this a cozy little scene?” sneered that deep voice from the doorway.