Mail-order bridegroom (15 page)

They left early on Friday, arranging to meet with the Lyon personnel after lunch. Leah had dressed carefully, choosing a pearl-gray suit, matching pumps and a white silk blouse. To add a touch of sophistication, she'd looped her hair into a businesslike chignon, and as a morale booster displayed the necklace Hunter had given her as a wedding-gift.

To her surprise, Hunter dressed casually, exchanging his jeans for cotton trousers, his plaid shirt no different from the ones he wore when working. The boa tie he'd strung around his neck was his only concession to the occasion.

'Relax,' he said, driving toward the Post Oak section of Houston. 'They won't eat you.'

Her expression felt stiff and unnatural. 'I'm more concerned about them slitting my throat,' she attempted to joke. 'Especially after I tell them not to contact me ever again.'

'Too obvious. They'll just sell you off to white slavers.' He looked at her and sighed. 'I'm kidding, honey.'

'Oh.' She grinned weakly and her hand closed over the pendant; she was hoping it would give her even a minuscule amount of Hunter's strength and perseverance. 'I'm beginning to think this isn't such a great idea.'

He spared her another brief glance. 'You want to turn back?'

'No. Maybe if I do this they'll finally leave me alone.' She shifted in her seat and studied Hunter's profile. 'Do you think they will? Leave me alone, I mean?'

He shrugged. 'They might. But don't count on it. They're businessmen. All they care about is the bottom line on the balance sheet. If buying your ranch means a substantial profit, then no. They won't leave you alone.'

A small frown knit her brow. 'I'll have to think of a way to convince them I mean business.'

'Short of a stick of dynamite between their ears, I don't know how.'

His comment gave her an idea and a secretive smile crept across her mouth. 'I'm not so sure about the dynamite, although the idea has merit. Perhaps a slightly less drastic demonstration would be in order.' Opening

the glove compartment, she rummaged around until she found what she sought. Without a word, she pocketed the item, hoping Hunter hadn't noticed the furtive act.

A few minutes later he pointed out a tall, modern glass building with smoked windows. 'That's where we're headed,' he told her, pulling into an underground parking-lot.

Leaving the car, they took the garage elevator to the lobby. * Which floor is Lyon Enterprises?' Leah asked.

'All of them.'

She stopped dead in her tracks. 'They own the building? 1

'They're a large company. Lots of companies own entire buildings.' He cupped her elbow and ushered her along. 'Come on. We want the executive level.'

She clutched her purse and the large white envelope with Lyon's offer to her chest. She hadn't realized. She'd had no idea they were such an immense concern. Suddenly she felt very small and vulnerable. How could she ever hope to defeat this Goliath of a company? She was no David. She glanced at Hunter. But he was. He'd protect her. All she had to do was trust him.

Filled with renewed confidence, she walked with him to the security desk. After presenting their credentials, they were escorted to a private bank of elevators that carried them directly to the executive level. Inside the car, she tucked back an escaped wisp of hair and straightened her skirt.

Hunter caught her hand, stilling her nervous exertions. 'Listen to me, Leah. These corporate types eat people like you for a midnight snack. So, don't fidget. Keep your arms relaxed at your side unless you're handing them something. Look them straight in the eye. Think before you speak. Don't answer any question you

142 MAIL-ORDER BRIDEGROOM

don't want to. And above all don't lose your temper. Got it?'

Her tension eased. 'Got it/

His mouth curled to one side and she realized in amazement that he actually relished the coming confrontation. 'Remember, I'll support you every step of the way. The instant you get in too deep, I'll bail you out. Otherwise, it's your show.'

'Hunter?'

He lifted an eyebrow. 'What?'

She squeezed his hand. 'Thanks.'

'Don't thank me, Leah,' he said, and the seriousness of his tone gave his words an ominous weight. 'Not yet.'

The doors slid open and she released her death grip on him. It wouldn't do for the Lyon board to think that she needed his assistance, even if she did. Stepping from the car, they found a secretary awaiting their arrival.

'Welcome to Lyon Enterprises,' she said. 'You're expected, of course. If you'd follow me?'

She led the way to a pair of wide, double doors. Pushing them open, she gestured for Hunter and Leah to enter. As though in a calculated gesture, the doors banged closed behind, barring their exit. A huge glass table dominated the conference room, and around the table sat a dozen men and women. The man at the far end rose to his feet.

'Miss Hampton,' he said. 'A pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Buddy Peterson. Our chairman requested that I conduct these proceedings, if you have no objections.'

She did object. She wanted to speak directly to the head honcho. 'He's not here?'

'He preferred that I negotiate in his place.' It didn't quite answer her question, but from long experience with Hunter she knew she wouldn't get a more direct response. 'Pryde,' Peterson said, switching his attention

to Hunter. 'We were somewhat surprised to hear you'd be attending this meeting—with Miss Hampton, that is/

'Were you?' Hunter replied. 'I don't know why, considering Leah's my wife.'

'Your wifeV The board members exchanged quick glances and Peterson slowly sank back into his seat. 'This puts a slightly different complexion on matters.'

Hunter inclined his head. 'Yes, it does, doesn't it?'

Peterson laughed, a cynical expression gleaming in his eyes. 'Congratulations... I'm impressed. I couldn't have done better myself.'

Leah looked up at Hunter in confusion. 'They know you?' she murmured.

'We're acquainted.'

'You didn't tell me.'

'It wasn't important.' His dark, unfathomable gaze captured hers. 'Do you have something to say to these people?'

She nodded. 'Yes.'

'Then get to it.'

She felt like a pawn in a game without rules. She glanced at Hunter, sudden doubts assailing her, acutely aware that she'd missed a vital piece of information, a clue that would help explain the mysterious undercurrents shifting through the room. She also suspected that what had to be said already had been, though in a language she couldn't hope to decipher. What she chose to contribute would be considered, at best, an empty gesture. Still, she wouldn't have this opportunity ever again. She wanted to say something they'd remember.. . do something they'd remember. She wanted them to know that Leah Hampton Pryde had been here and made a statement.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped to the table and held out the envelope. 'This arrived the other day.'

'Yes, our offer,' Peterson said with an impatient edge. 'Don't tell me you plan to accept?' He glanced at Hunter. 'It would certainly save much of this board's time and energy if you would.'

'Not only do I not accept, I don't want to hear from you ever again. You people have harassed me for the last time. I'm not the vulnerable woman struggling on my own any more.' She spared Hunter a quick, searching look. At his brief nod, she added, 'I have help now. We won't allow Bull Jones to foul our wells or stampede our herd. We won't be intimidated by you any longer.'

'Yes, yes,' Buddy Peterson interrupted, 'you've made your point.'

'Not yet, I haven't.'

She reached into her suit jacket pocket and pulled out the lighter she'd taken from the glove compartment. With a flick of her thumb she spun the wheel, and a small flame leapt to life. Stepping closer, she held the flame beneath the corner of the envelope and waited until it caught fire. Then she tossed the burning packet into the center of the glass table. Flames and smoke billowed. Frantic executives scrambled from their seats, shouting and cursing.

Beside her, Hunter sighed. 'You really shouldn't have done that.'

She lifted her chin. 'Yes, I should have. Now I've made my point.'

'That... and more.'

'Good. Are you ready to leave?'

To her bewilderment, he shot a chary glance at the ceiling, pulled his hat lower over his brow and raised the collar of his shirt. 'In a minute. Go to the car. I'll be right behind.'

The instant the door closed behind her an alarm bell began to scream and the overhead sprinklers burst to

life. In a mad dash the executives scurried from the room, like rats deserting a sinking ship.

'Get these sprinklers turned off!' Buddy Peterson bellowed. He continued to sit at the table, his arms folded across his chest, ignoring the drenching spray. 'That was damned clever, Hunter,' he called above the screeching siren.

'She does have a certain... flair, doesn't she?' Hunter said, impervious to the water funneling in a small waterfall from his hat brim.

Peterson stood and approached. 'That's not what I meant, and you know it. How long are you going to keep her in the dark—not tell her who you really are?'

'As long as it takes.'

'You're playing a dangerous game. You could lose everything,' Peterson advised.

'I don't lose.' Hunter's voice dropped, a hard, threats ening note coloring his words. 'Fair warning. One leak from anyone at this table and you'll all suffer the consequences. I'll be in touch soon.' He didn't wait for a response. Turning, he left.

'I still don't understand how you got so wet.'

'I told you. A freak shower.'

'Where? There isn't a cloud in the sky.' Sarcasm crept into her voice. 'Or perhaps it rained somewhere between the executive floor and the garage.'

He released a soft laugh. 'Something like that.'

She gave up. Hunter could be incredibly close-mouthed when he chose. If he'd decided that he wouldn't tell her, then he wouldn't. It was that simple. 'What did you say to the board after I left?'

He swung into another parking garage, this one beneath a brand-new, high-rise apartment complex. 'Not much. They didn't hang around for long.'

'Hunter!' she exclaimed in exasperation. 'Why won't you give me a straight answer? What did you say? How do you know them? For that matter, how did you know your way around their building? And why all the secrecy?'

He pulled into a wide parking space with H. Pryde stenciled on to the wall above it. Switching off the engine, he rested his arms on the steering-wheel and turned and looked at her. 'I know the Lyon board through work, which is also how I knew my way around their complex. I told Peterson that I'd be in touch soon. And I'm not being in the least secretive—just selective in what I tell you.'

'Why?'

'Because Lyon is my problem now, and I'll handle it.'

She could accept that. Having to deal all these years with the constant stream of difficulties on the ranch, it was a welcome change to have a second set of shoulders to help carry the burden. 'Why did you tell Buddy Peterson you'd be in touch?'

'To make certain he doesn't bother you again.'

'And he'll agree to that?' she asked in amazement.

'I won't give him any choice.' He opened his door. 'Coming?'

After unloading their overnight bags, Hunter led the way to the bank of elevators. Once there, he keyed the security lock for the penthouse and Leah stiffened. 'The penthouse?'

He paused before answering, and for some reason his momentary hesitation made her think of his advice about addressing the board members of Lyon Enterprises. 'Think before you speak,' he'd told her. 'Don't answer any question you don't want to.' Perhaps that advice didn't apply solely to board members. Perhaps it applied to recalcitrant wives as well.

'They paid me well in my previous job,' he finally said.

'I guess so. I'm surprised you left/ The car glided rapidly upward and she peeked at him from beneath her lashes. 'But that's right... You said you'd still do occasional jobs for them if they called. Troubleshooting, isn't that your speciality?'

'Yes.'

'What did you say the name of the company was?'

'I didn't.' He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. 'Why all the questions, Leah?'

'You can't expect me not to have questions.' Her grip on her purse tightened. 'I'm... surprised.'

'Because I'm not the dirt-poor ranch-hand I once was?'

She shot him a sharp look. 'We've been over this before. That's not the problem and you know it. You ask me to trust you. To trust you blindly. But you tell me nothing about yourself, which means you don't trust me. 1

'Point taken,' he conceded.

The doors slid silently apart, opening on to a huge entrance hall. Swallowing nervously, she stepped out of the car. 'Good heavens, Hunter, look at this place!'

'I've seen it before, remember?' he said gently. 'Make yourself at home.'

Her heels clicked on the oak parquet flooring as she crossed to the sunken living-room. 'Why didn't you tell me?' she asked quietly. 'Why the games?'

His hat sailed past her, skimming the coffee-table and landing dead-center in the middle of the chaise longue. 'All right. I admit I may have omitted a detail or two about my life these past eight years.'

'A detail or two?' she questioned with irony.

'Or three. What difference does it make? I have money. And I have an apartment in Houston. So what?'

'It's a penthouse apartment,' she was quick to remind him.

He shrugged irritably. Tine. It's a penthouse apartment. It doesn't change a damned thing. We're still married. I still work the ranch. And you're still my wife.'

'Ami?'

He thrust a hand through his hair. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

'Why did you marry me, Hunter?'

'You know why.'

She nodded. 'For the ranch. Perhaps also for a bit of revenge. But what I don't understand is... why? Why would you care about such a small concern when you have all this?' He didn't respond, and she realized that she could stand there until doomsday and he wouldn't answer her questions. She picked up her overnight bag. 'I'd like to freshen up. Where do I go?'