JAKrentz - The Pirate, The Adventurer, & The Cowboy (54 page)

"I know, I know." He held up a hand to cut off her angry protest. "But I couldn't be certain at the time and I could hardly call up Moorcroft and ask, could I? He'd have laughed himself sick."

"It would have served you right."

"My pride was already in shreds. I wasn't about to let Jack Moorcroft stomp all over it."

"Of course not. Your pride had been a lot more important than whatever it was we had together, hadn't it?"

He turned to face her. "I'm here tonight, aren't I? Doesn't that say something about my priorities?"

She eyed him warily. "It says you're up to something. That's all it says. And I don't want any part of it. I learned my lesson a year ago, Rafe. Only a fool gets burned twice."

"Give me a chance to win you back, Maggie. That's all I'm asking."

"No," she said, not even pausing to think about her response. There was only one safe answer.

He watched her for a moment and Margaret didn't like the look in his eyes. She'd seen it before and she knew what it meant. Rafe was running through his options, picking and choosing his weapons, analyzing the best way to stage his next assault. When he moved casually back to the white chair and sat down, Margaret instinctively tensed.

"You really are afraid of me, aren't you, Maggie, love?"

"Yes," she admitted starkly. "You can be an extremely ruthless man and I don't know what you've got up your sleeve."

"Well, it's true there are a few things you don't know yet," Rafe said softly.

"I don't want to know them."

"You will."

"All I want is for you to leave."

"I told you when you opened the door tonight that you don't have to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you. But I have some common sense and I will admit I'm extremely cautious around you. I definitely do not intend to get involved with you again, Rafe."

He turned the glass in his hands. "What I had in mind was a little vacation for you."

That alarmed her. "A
vacation
? I don't need or want a vacation."

"At the ranch," he continued, just as if she hadn't spoken.

"Your ranch in Arizona?"

"You never had a chance to see it. You'll like it, Maggie."

"No, absolutely not. I don't want to go to any ranch. I hate ranches. If I wanted to go on a vacation, I'd choose a luxury resort on a South Sea island, not a ranch."

"You'll like this one." Rafe swallowed the last of the Scotch. "It's just outside of Tucson. I grew up there. Inherited it when Dad died."

"No."

"You don't have to worry," Rafe said gently. "You won't be alone with me. My mother will be there."

"I thought she lived in Scottsdale."

"She does. But she's paying me a visit. My sister, Julie, is going to drop in on us, too. She lives in Tucson, you know. I thought you'd feel more comfortable about going down there if you knew you weren't going to be completely alone with me."

"Look, I don't care who's going to be down there. Rafe, stop stalking me like this. I mean it."

"There'll be someone else there, too, honey."

"I just told you, I don't care who's there. In case you didn't realize it, knowing your mother will be around is not much of an incentive for me to go to Tucson. She undoubtedly hates my guts. She thinks the sun rises and sets on you. She made her opinion of me clear that one time I met her last year and I'm sure she thinks even less of me after what happened between us. I'm sure she blames me for your losing Spencer Homes to Moorcroft. I wouldn't be surprised if your sister feels exactly the same."

"Now, Maggie, love, you've got to allow for the fact that people change. My mother is looking forward to seeing you again."

"I don't believe that for a minute and even if it's true, I'm not particularly anxious to see her."

"You'd better get used to the idea of seeing her," Rafe said. "She's going to marry your father."

"She's
what
?" Margaret felt as if the world had just fallen away beneath her feet. She clutched at her brandy glass.

"You heard me."

"I don't believe you. You're lying. My father would have said something."

"He hasn't said anything because I asked him not to. I wanted to handle this my own way. He's the other person who will be at the ranch while you're there, by the way."

"Oh, my God." She felt physically sick as she put the untouched brandy down on the table.

"Are you all right?" Rafe frowned in concern.

"No."

"It's not as bad as all that. They make a great couple, as a matter of fact."

"When… where… how did they meet?"

"I introduced them about four months ago."

"For God's sake, why?"

"Because I had a hunch they'd hit it off. Your father wasn't too keen on the idea at first, I'll admit. He was more inclined to string me up from the nearest tree. Seems he was under the impression I was the bad guy in that mess last year. When I straightened him out on a few details, including the fact that I still wanted to marry you, he settled down and saw the light of sweet reason. Then he met Mom and fell like a ton of bricks."

Margaret stared at Rafe in bewildered horror. "I don't understand any of this. What's behind it? You never do anything unless the bottom line is worth it.
What is going on here
?"

He smiled his thin smile. "If you want to find out you'll have to take a couple of weeks off and come down to the ranch." He reached inside the jacket he'd slung over the back of the chair and removed an airline ticket folder. "I've made the reservations for you. You're scheduled on the eight o'clock flight to Tucson next Monday."

"You're out of your mind if you think you can just walk in here and take control of my life like this. I'm not going anywhere."

"Suit yourself, but I think you'll want to find out what's happening and the only way to do it is to come down to Arizona."

"If my father is crazy enough to get involved with your mother, that's his affair. I'll give him my opinion when he asks for it, but until then, I'm staying out of it."

"It isn't just their relationship that's at stake," Rafe said calmly.

Margaret dug her fuchsia-colored nails into the white leather upholstery. "I knew it," she bit out. "With you there's always a business reason. Tell me the rest, damn you."

"Well, it's true your father and I are thinking of doing a little business together."

"Good Lord. What kind of business?"

"I'm going to buy Lark Engineering."

It was the final bombshell as far as Margaret was concerned. She leaped to her feet. She wanted to call him a liar again, but even as the words crossed her mind, she was terribly, coldly afraid. "My father would never sell the firm to you. He built it from the ground up. It's his whole life. If he's thinking of selling out, it's because you're forcing his hand. What have you done, Rafe? What kind of leverage are you using against him?"

Rafe rose slowly to his feet, looming over her. He dominated the elegant room—a dark, dangerous intruder who threatened Margaret's hard-won peace of mind as nothing else ever had. She looked up at him, feeling small and very vulnerable. But she refused to step back out of reach. She would not give him the satisfaction.

"You really don't think very much of me, do you?" Rafe's mouth was taut with his rigidly controlled anger. "It's a good thing I learned something about handling my own pride this past year because the look in your eyes right now is enough to make a man feel about two inches tall."

"Really?" Her voice was scathing. "And do you feel two inches tall?"

"No, ma'am," he admitted. "But I probably would if I were guilty of whatever it is you think I'm doing to your father. Lucky for me I'm as innocent as a new foal."

"Are you saying you're not forcing him to sell out to you?"

"Nope. Ask him."

"I will, damn you."

"You'll have to come down to the ranch to do that," Rafe said. "Because that's where he is and he won't reassure you on the phone."

"Why not?"

"Because he knows I want some time with you down there and he's agreed to act as the bait. You'll have to fly to Arizona if you want to convince yourself that I'm not pulling a fast one."

"And if I don't go?"

"Then I reckon you'll sit here in Seattle and worry a lot."

She shook her head, dazed. "I don't believe any of this. Why are you doing it?"

"I've told you why I'm doing it. I want another chance with you. This is the only way I know to get it."

"Even if that disaster last year didn't stand between us, we have no business thinking about getting involved again. I've told you that. I could never marry you, Rafe. Not for long, at any rate."

"I'll make you change your mind."

"Impossible. I know you too well now. The truth is, I knew you too well last year. That's the reason I didn't give you an answer the first time you asked. Or the second or the third. Your first love is business and your overriding passion in life is for making money, not making love."

Rafe contrived to look hurt. "I don't recall you complaining too loud in bed."

Margaret clenched her fists. "On the rare occasions you managed to find time to take me to bed you performed just fine."

"Why, thank you, honey. It's real sweet of you to remember."

"You're missing the point," she hissed.

"Yeah?"

"The point is, you don't have a lot of time in your life for a relationship of any kind. During the two months we were dating you were always flying into Seattle for a weekend and then flying out again Monday morning. Or you would show up on my doorstep at midnight on a Wednesday, take me to bed and then disappear at six the next day to get to a business conference in L.A."

"I admit I used to do a fair amount of traveling, but I've cut back lately."

"And when you weren't traveling, you were tied up at the office. Remember all those times you called from Tucson and told me you wouldn't be able to make it up here to Seattle? I was expected to rearrange all my plans to accommodate you. Or else you'd arrive with a briefcase full of work and Doug Hatcher in tow and the two of you would take over my living room for a full day."

"Now, honey, there was a lot going on at the time."

"With you there always will be a lot going on. It's your nature. Your mother was kind enough to point that out to me. Said you were just like your father. You thrive on your work. Beating the competition to the draw is the most important thing in your life."

"You're getting carried away now, Maggie, love. Just take it easy, honey. I'm dead serious about this. I want to get married."

"Oh, I believe you. You'd find a wife useful. You want a wife who will be a convenience for you—someone to handle your entertaining, your home, your social life. Someone who will warm your bed when you want it warmed and stay out of your way when you've got other things to do. Someone who knows how to live in your world and who will accommodate her entire life to yours. In short, you want the perfect corporate wife."

"Give me the next couple of weeks to prove that I'm willing to make a few accommodations of my own."

Margaret's head came up sharply. "You're hardly starting out on a promising foot, are you? You're trying to blackmail me into going down to your ranch."

He sighed. "Only because I know it's a sure-fire way to get you there. Maggie, listen to me…"

She glared at him. "Don't call me Maggie. I never did like the way you called me that. No one else ever calls me Maggie."

Rafe's brows rose. "Your dad does."

"That changes nothing. I dislike being called Maggie."

"You never said anything about it before."

"It didn't seem worth arguing about last year. Good grief, there wasn't time to argue about it. This year is different, however. I'm not putting up with anything from you this year."

"I see. That's too bad. I always kind'a liked Maggie."

"I don't."

"All right," he said soothingly, "I'll try to remember to call you Margaret."

"You don't have to try to remember anything. You won't be around long enough to make the mistake very often."

"You're not going to give an inch, are you?"

"No." Margaret eyed him defiantly.

Rafe's mouth curved faintly. "I had a feeling you were going to be like that. Which is why I went to so much effort to set this whole thing up the way I did. I need you to give me a chance to prove that I've changed. I'm only asking for two weeks."

"You're not asking, you're demanding. That's the way you always did things, Rafe. You haven't changed at all."

Temper flashed briefly in his eyes and was almost immediately overlaid with something far more dangerous: frustrated desire. Rafe lifted a hand to slide around the nape of Margaret's neck beneath the neat chignon of her hair. She froze.

"How much have you changed, Maggie?" he asked softly, his mouth only inches from hers. "Do you still remember this?" He brushed his lips across hers in the lightest of caresses. "Do you still go all hot and trembly when I do this?" He caught her lower lip gently between his teeth and then released it.