Hot & Bothered (30 page)

J
OHN WOULD HAVE SWORN
he knew females, but Esme was a revelation. Apparently an event wasn't an event for a little girl until it had been talked over with her best friend. With a bemused smile, he left his daughter punching out Rebecca's number on the phone and headed outside.

This had been both the best and the worst day of his life. If anyone had told him six weeks ago he'd be thrilled to be a father, he would have laughed in that person's face and invited him to have his head examined. Yet here he was, reeling beneath the weight of emotions he never even dreamed existed and he liked it. No, “liked” was too weak a word. He flat-out loved it.

Yet today he'd also realized he was in love with Tori and neither had he known it was possible to hurt as badly as he did. Knowing that she didn't return his feelings was like a knife buried in his heart. He brooded about it as he headed down toward the woods where he'd discovered Esme and the reporter.

He kicked aside a pinecone. Well, hey, her loss. If she was too big a snob to see what a good deal she'd be getting in him, the hell with her.

Except…that didn't sound right. He came to a stop, hands thrust deep in his pants pockets as he stared into space. If he'd learned anything during his time with
Victoria, it was that she was far from a snob. So, why the hell had she acted so horrified that he'd informed the world he was Esme's dad?

Well, okay, there might be the fact that the news Nazis would do their best to turn the information into a three-ring circus. A minor little detail, but you know women—they could be funny about these things.

He rolled his shoulders uneasily. All right, not such a minor detail. Still, he'd been hyperaware of her up in the tree and he hadn't missed the fact that she was pissed.

Of course, that might have something to do with the way he'd been preparing to tell Esme he was the kid's father without her, which he had to admit hadn't been the brightest idea he'd ever had.

She didn't want you touching her, Ace.

Yeah. There was no getting around that one. He understood a categorical “no” when he heard it. Never mind the little bread-and-butter display of manners she'd put on to cover it up—it was tough to ignore the fact she'd rather fall out of the frigging tree than accept his help.

Shit.
He hunched his shoulders and kicked a few more pinecones. Love sucked.

But at least he had Esme. Turning, he slowly sauntered back toward the mansion, replaying their conversations in his head.

“You gonna be with Mummy and me forever and ever?”

He stopped again. What had he said when she'd asked him that? He'd been caught by surprise and still smarting from Tori's earlier rejection when she'd learned he'd shot off his big mouth to the press and he'd just snapped out a no as unequivocal as the one that had given him such a sting a short while later. He tried to remember now if she'd been standoffish before then.

Damned if he could remember. There had been his mood at the time, her less-than-thrilled attitude at discovering he was cutting her out of the process of informing Es of her parentage, and at this point he didn't know
what
was what.

So is this the kind of uncertainty you want to hang your future on, Ace?

He snapped to attention. No.
Hell,
no. If love meant putting yourself on the line, even if it turned out the other person didn't feel the same way as you, so be it. Better at this point to chance getting his teeth kicked down his throat than to torture himself trying to second-guess what Victoria felt. At least he'd know one way or the other.

With renewed determination, he picked up his pace. She hadn't been in her rooms when he'd turned Esme over to Helen, so there was no point in looking for her there. In the tree he'd heard her say something about a room that had always bothered her. The only one he remembered her ever mentioning in that context was the one he used for his office. It seemed unlikely she'd go there, but he'd check it out, all the same.

It was at least a place to start.

 

S
HEER POSSESSIVENESS GAVE
Victoria a fresh surge of power and the distracting fear abruptly cleared from her head. She'd already made up her mind it was better to die trying than to docilely accept certain death by stepping into her father's secret closet. But DeeDee had made a big, big mistake when she'd taunted her about Rocket.

“Screw you,” she snapped. “I left John once before without fighting for him. Damned if I intend to do it again.” While the other woman gaped at her, she stepped back, swept the box from the shelf and, clutching it to her
chest, quickly stepped around the front of the bookcase to prevent DeeDee from trapping her behind it. Giving the other woman, who stood foursquare between her and freedom, a quick assessment, she came to a decision. DeeDee wanted a war of words? She could do that. To hell with manners—she had good cause to know nice girls finish last.

“Look, Big D,” she taunted. “I've got the bonds. You want them, come and get them—if you can.” She gave the other woman an insolent once-over. “Put on a few pounds lately, haven't you?”

“You bitch! You'd better watch your mouth, because I've got the knife, and it won't take much to make me use it.”

Victoria shrugged as if it were a minor consideration. “You'll need it, Chubs. I'm younger and fitter.”

DeeDee's mouth opened and closed several times before she finally sputtered, “You're kidding me, right? I'm only a few years older than you and I play tennis every day!”

“Big deal. I chase after a five-year-old. And face it, both of us know we can count your age in slut years. Besides, I've got news for you, Blondie—I've got a much longer reach and I can run circles around a roly-poly little thing like you any day of the week. More importantly, I'm smarter. Oh, and Big D—?”

“Quit calling me that!”

She shrugged. “I was merely going to say that you could present yourself to John stark naked on a silver platter and he wouldn't look twice. Father truly was more your speed.”

DeeDee screeched and launched herself at Victoria, but Tori was ready for her and sidestepped the charge, dancing away from the bookcase when the other woman
crashed into it and inadvertently slammed it shut. The knife dropped from DeeDee's hand.

Victoria didn't know whether to go for the weapon or make a run for it.
So much for smarter,
she thought sourly when she decided on the latter and found she'd hesitated a second too long. She really wished she'd run while the running was good when she saw DeeDee dive for the knife, because no way on earth would she voluntarily present her back to the other woman. Leaping forward, she kicked at the knife just as DeeDee reached for it.

The other woman got her hand wrapped around it anyway and rolled onto her back where she started slashing wildly, preventing Victoria from kicking again. Victoria backpedaled as fast as she could, but realized she had underestimated DeeDee's speed when the woman scrambled to her feet. Swearing under her breath, Tori threw the box at the blonde as hard as she could.

As she'd hoped, DeeDee dropped the knife to catch the box of bonds. Taking advantage of the other woman's momentary preoccupation, she whirled and ran for the door. Before she could reach it, however, it opened and she ran smack up against a hard surface.

She let loose a single eardrum-piercing scream of shock. Long arms wrapped around her and although she'd managed to keep her wits about her up until now, she abruptly lost it and began kicking and struggling. Oh, God. DeeDee had an accomplice.

“Tori, calm down,” said a firm, no-nonsense voice. “I've got you.”

She knew that voice and its familiar lack of sentimentality sank into her panicked mind and calmed her as nothing else could have. She tipped her head back to stare up into John's face, her gaze traveling over every
beloved centimeter as she curled her fingers in his shirt. “Oh, God, Rocket, oh, God. I thought I'd never see you again. It was DeeDee. She killed Father and I found the bonds and she wanted to steal them and lock me up in the wall and we fought and, and—”

She was babbling like an idiot, but John apparently understood. His eyes narrowing, he abruptly set her aside and crossed the room in a few long strides. Reaching down, he grabbed hold of the knife that DeeDee had once again managed to pick up, wrenched it from her grip, flipped it in the air and caught it by the tip of its blade. He sent it winging, embedding it with a solid thunk in the spine of a book on the second-to-the-top shelf. Then he snapped his fingers around her wrist like a handcuff.

She looked down at his long, tanned fingers, then slowly raised her head. Her shoulders went back, her breasts lifted and licking her lips, she rubbed up against his side. “I've got a fortune in bonds here,” she said giving the box clutched to her side a little jiggle. “Help me get rid of Victoria and you and I can have a real good time spending it.”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to—”

Victoria made a rude noise. “Kill me.”

“No, no.” DeeDee pressed closer yet, looking up at him with choir-girl eyes. “I wouldn't ask you to
kill
her. Just shut her up long enough for us to get away. It's not like you two are an item anymore or anything. She told me herself that you dumped her this afternoon.”

He turned to stare at Victoria, who raised her chin slightly. His face was expressionless and she didn't exactly hear him rushing to deny it.

“She told you that, huh?”

“Yes, she did. So I'm offering you a twofer. Here's your chance at the brass ring
and
the best sex you've ever had.”

John didn't even glance down at the female nestled next to his side. “Tori was mistaken. I was under the impression
she
dumped me.” His jet eyes bored into Victoria's. “Call the cops, darlin'. Then you and I have got some serious talking to do.”

“
No!
You
bastard!
” Spewing obscenities, DeeDee kicked out at him, twisting to pull free of his grasp and snapping at his arm with her teeth when his hold didn't loosen. John did something to her wrist that put an immediate stop to her struggles. The box tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents, and she sagged against him. Staring down at the bonds scattered across the hardwood floor, tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

Victoria simply stood and stared, until John looked over at her and repeated, “Call the cops.” Then he gave her a big white grin. “Darlin'.”

She turned to do his bidding, but even as she punched out 911 on the phone's keypad, the only thought she could seem to hold on to for more than three seconds running was:
he thought I dumped him? When?
They did have to talk. Then the memory of that killer Miglionni smile and the second, deliberate
darlin'
floated across her consciousness and the corners of her lips curled up.

Of course, it was too much to expect that the situation could be handled either quickly or quietly. The police arrived with sirens blaring, which the detective who showed up with the surly Detective Simpson admitted had sent the reporters at the gates into a frenzy. And everyone in the household came running to see what had caused the ruckus. Victoria let Jared stay but sent Esme back to Helen and the staff about their business. Finally, however, after Victoria and John had explained discovering the existence of the bonds and she'd told the police
over and over again how she'd come to realize there was a secret space and demonstrated how the closet worked, they took DeeDee away and the room finally cleared of everyone but her, John and Jared.

John turned to her brother. “I know you probably have more questions, but would you mind giving your sister and me a few minutes? We've got some things we need to hammer out and they've been put off too long already.”

“Sure.” Jared headed across the room, but turned at the door to look back at them. A smile transformed the soberness that too often had been his natural expression lately. “This is going to be all over the news, isn't it.”

It wasn't really a question, but John nodded anyway. “Yeah. Your name's going to be publicly cleared, buddy. That's a good thing.”

“Yeah.” Jared's smile grew wider. “That's a real good thing.”

Then he was gone, slamming the door exuberantly behind him and John turned back to Victoria. He trailed a tough-skinned fingertip over her cheek and she registered the touch all the way down to her toes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded.

He shifted slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets and balancing on the balls of his feet. “Tori—do you love me?” He promptly grimaced and shook his head. “Sorry. You don't have to answer that. I'm going about this backward. I was specifically looking for you, you know, when I walked in on your little catfight with DeeDee.”