One Month with the Magnate (14 page)

“There are no bruises or marks to hide now.”

He hadn't even considered that. “Is that why you never let me see you undressed?”

“I wanted to, but I knew there would be questions.”

“Isabelle.”

“No more talking about the past. Let's concentrate on today. On right now. Make love to me, and nothing else will matter.”

That was by far the best idea she'd had all day.

E
milio stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed with Isabelle. Since Tuesday she hadn't stopped thinking about making love to him again. Only this time she wasn't nervous. This time she had nothing to hide. He knew her secrets. She could relax and be herself. Until the weight of everything she had hidden from him was finally gone, she hadn't realized what a heavy load she'd carried. And when Emilio took her in his arms and kissed her, she knew he was back to being the man he used to be. Sweet and tender and thoughtful.

Ironically that wasn't what she wanted now. She was eager to experiment. She wanted it to be crazy and exciting. There were hundreds of different ways to make love and she wanted to try as many as she could before she had to go. She wanted it to be fun.

“Emilio, I'm not going to break.”

He gazed down at her, brow furrowed. “I just don't
want to hurt you again. And after what happened to you today…if you want to wait, we can take a few days.”

They had so little time left, she didn't want to waste any of it. And she didn't want him to feel as if he had to treat her with kid gloves. “First of all, if you're referring to Tuesday night, you did not hurt me.”

Up went the brow.

“Okay, maybe it hurt a little, but only for a minute. And it wasn't a bad hurt, if that makes sense. And after that it was…
amazing.
And as far as what happened today, yeah it scared the hell out of me, but that has nothing to do with us. I know you would never hurt me.”

“But I did.” He stroked her hair back from her face, touched her cheek. “I've been a total jerk the last couple weeks, and you've done absolutely nothing to deserve it.”

“Except the rug, and the casserole dish, and the pink laundry. And of course the scorched shirt.”

“That doesn't count. I put you in a position to fail so I could throw it back in your face.”

“And I've forgiven you.”

He sighed and rolled onto his back. “Maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe I feel like I don't deserve your forgiveness.”

She sat up beside him. “In that case, you have to forgive
yourself.
You've got to let it go. Trust me on this one. If I hadn't made peace with my father, and Lenny, I would probably be in a padded room by now.”

“How? How do you let it go?”

She shrugged. “You just do.”

“I'm just so…
mad.
”

“At yourself?”

“At myself, and at your father. For what he did to you, and everything he stole from us. Everything that we could have been. If it wasn't for him, we would be married,
we would probably have kids.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. “I'm pissed at Estefan for ratting us out, and Alejandro for prosecuting you when I'm pretty sure he knows damn well that you're innocent. I'm pissed at every person who suspected your father was abusive and did nothing about it. I feel like I'm mad at the whole damned world!”

“So let it out.”

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can.” She reached over and pinched his left nipple. Hard.

“Hey!” He batted her hand away, looking stunned, as if he couldn't believe she would do something like that. Sweet, nonconfrontational Isabelle. “What was that for?”

He was going to have to accept that she had changed. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, it hurt.”

“Good.” She did the same thing to the right side.

“Ow! Stop that!”

She pinched the fleshy skin under his bicep next and he jerked away.

“Izzie, stop it.”

She climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs. “Make me.”

She moved to pinch him again and his hand shot out to manacle her wrist, and when she tried to use her other hand, he grabbed that wrist, too. She struggled to yank free, but he held on tighter, almost to the point of pain. But that was good, that was what she wanted. She didn't want him to look at her as some frail flower he needed to protect. She wanted him to know how tough she was.

Since her hands were restrained, she leaned in and bit him instead, on his left shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to cause pain.

He jerked away. “Isabelle! What's gotten into you?”

“Are you pissed?”

“Yes, I'm pissed!”

“Good.” She leaned in to do it again, but he'd apparently had enough. Finally. He pulled her down on top of him then rolled her onto her back, pinning her wrists over her head.

She'd never thought of herself as the type who would be into anything even remotely kinky, but she was so hot for him, she was afraid she might spontaneously combust. Emilio settled between her thighs, holding her to the mattress with the weight of his body, and it was clear that he liked it, too. A lot.

She hooked her legs around his, arching against him. He groaned and his eyes went dark, breath rasped out. So she did it again, bucking against him.

“Izzie.” His voice held a warning, stop or else, but she
wanted
the “or else.”

Lifting her head, she scraped her teeth across his nipple. She would keep biting and pinching and bucking until he gave her what she wanted. Only this time he turned the tables on her. He dipped his head and took her nipple in his mouth, sucked hard.

She cried out, pushing against his hands, digging her nails into her palms.
“Yesss.”

“You
like
this,” he said.

His eyes said that he'd finally figured it out. He knew what she wanted.

It was about damned time.

She knew Emilio liked to be composed at all times, but she wanted him to lose control, to do something crazy.

He kissed her, like he never had before. A hard, punishing kiss. He started to work his way down, to her neck and her shoulders, kissing and nipping. Then he
slipped lower still, letting go of her wrists so he could press her thighs wide. She thought they would make love right away, but clearly he had other ideas.

She held her breath in anticipation, gasping as he took her in his mouth. Oral sex had been a regular routine for them, and it was always good, but never like this. He was
devouring
her. She clawed her nails through his hair, so close to losing it…then he thrust a finger inside of her, then another, then a third, slow and deep, and pleasure seized her like a wild animal.

Emilio rose up and settled between her thighs, thrusting hard inside of her, and the orgasm that had begun to ebb slowly away suddenly picked up momentum again, only this time from somewhere deep inside. Somewhere she'd never felt before. Maybe her soul. It erupted into a sensation so beautiful and perfect, so exactly what she ever hoped it could be, tears welled in her eyes. And she was so utterly lost in her own pleasure she didn't realize he had come, too, until he flopped onto his back beside her.

“Wow,”
he said, breathing hard.

“So, are you still mad?”

He laughed—a genuine honest to goodness laugh. A sound she hadn't heard out of him in a very long time. “Not at all. In fact, I can't recall the last time I was so relaxed.”

She smiled and curled up against his side. “Good.”

“I didn't hurt you?”

“Are you kidding? That was
perfect.
” And it must have been really good for him, too, because he was still mostly hard. Then she realized something that made her heart drop. “Emilio, you didn't use a condom.”

“I know.”

She shot up in bed. “You
know?
You did it
deliberately?
”

He didn't even have the decency to look remorseful.
“Not exactly. I realized the minute I was inside of you, but I didn't think you would appreciate me stopping to roll one on.”

“Did it occur to you that I could get pregnant?”

“Of course.”

“What did you think? That me being pregnant with his brother's baby will stop Alejandro from putting me in prison? They put pregnant women in prison all the time. Are you prepared to raise a baby alone? To be a single dad for the next twenty-to-life? Maybe if I get out early on good behavior I'll see him graduate high school.”

“You're not going to prison.”

She groaned and dropped her head in her hands. The man was impossible.

“Do you think you could be pregnant?” he asked.

“My period is due soon, so I'd say it's unlikely.”

He actually looked disappointed. How had he gone from hating her one day, to wanting to have babies with her the next? This was crazy. Even if she didn't go to prison his family would never accept her.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said.

“Sure.”

“Since you've told me everything else, would you explain how you never slept with Lenny? Because I really don't get it. I can't go five minutes without wanting to rip your clothes off.”

“He had a heart condition and he was impotent. Ultimately he did screw me, just not in the bed room.”

“After your father died you could have divorced him.”

“There didn't seem to be much point. There was only one other man I wanted.” She touched his arm. “And I knew he would never take me back, never forgive me.”

“I guess you were wrong.”

“It would probably be better if you hadn't.”

“You're
not
going to prison.”

“Yes, I am. Nothing is going to stop that now.”

“I just got you back, Izzie. I'm not letting you go again.”

But he was going to have to. He couldn't keep her out of prison by sheer will. He was going to have to accept that they were living on borrowed time.

“Things are going to change around here,” he said.

“What things?”

“First off, I'm calling my housekeeper back.”

“You can't do that. You gave her the month off. It's not fair.”

“So I'll hire a temp.”

“But I like doing it.”

He raised a brow at her.

“I do. And it gives me something to do. A way to pass the time, since I doubt all those charities I used to volunteer for would be interested in my services any longer.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, but you're not allowed to wear the uniform anymore. And I'm buying you some decent clothes.”

“There's no point.”

“There sure as hell is. The ones you have are awful.”

“And I'll only need them for another few weeks. Getting anything new would be a waste of money.”

She could tell he wanted to argue, but he probably figured there was no point. She was not going to budge on this one. Besides, the last thing she wanted was for him to spend money on her. She didn't deserve it.

“You're obviously not staying in the maid's quarters any longer. You're moving in here with me. If you want to.”

“Of course I do.” It was probably a bad idea. The closer they got, the harder it would be when she had to go, but
she had the feeling nothing would prevent that now. They might as well spend all the time they could together.

“You have a say in this, too,” he said. “Is there anything you'd like to add? Anything you want?”

There were so many things she wanted. She wanted to marry him, and have babies with him. She wanted to do everything they had talked about before. It's all she had ever wanted. But why dwell on a future that wasn't meant to be?

The phone rang, so she grabbed the cordless off the bedside table and handed it to him. He looked at the display and cursed under his breath. “Well, that didn't take long.”

He sat up and hit the talk button. “Hello, Mama.”

Isabelle winced. Estefan hadn't wasted any time running to his mother, had he?

He listened for a minute, then said, “Yes, it's true.”

She could hear his mother talking. Not what she was saying, but her tone came through perfectly. She was upset.

“I know he was drunk. Are you really surprised?”

More talking from his mother's end, then Emilio interrupted her. “Why don't I come over there right now so we can talk about this?”

She must have agreed, because then he said, “I'll be over as soon as I can.”

He hung up and set the phone back on the table. “I guess you got the gist of that.”

“Yeah.”

“I shouldn't be too long.”

“Take your time.” He wasn't the only one who needed to talk to their mother. “I was thinking maybe I could go talk to my mother, too. I'd hate for her to hear it from someone besides me.”

“I think that's a good idea. I'll pick up Chinese food on my way home.”

“Sounds good.” Although after dealing with their parents, she wondered if either of them would have much of an appetite.

E
milio parked in the driveway of his mother's condo. The year he'd made his first million he'd bought it for her. He'd wanted to get her something bigger and in a more affluent part of the city, but she had wanted to live here, in what was a primarily Hispanic neighborhood. Not that this place was what anyone would consider shabby. It had been brand-new when he bought it, and he made sure it had every upgrade they offered, and a few he requested special. After sacrificing so much for Emilio and his brothers, she deserved the best of everything.

He walked to the front door and let himself inside. “Mama?”

“In the kitchen,” she called back.

He wasn't surprised to find her at the counter, apron on, adding ingredients to a mixing bowl. She always baked when she was upset or angry.

“What are you making?”

“Churros, with extra cinnamon, just the way you like them.” She gestured to the kitchen table. “Sit down, I'll get you something to drink.”

She pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge and poured him a glass. He would have preferred something stronger, but she never kept alcohol of any kind in the house.

Handing it to him, she went back to the bowl, mixing the contents with a wooden spoon. “I guess you saw your brother's face.”

“I saw it.”

“He said she attacked him. For no good reason.”

“Attempted rape is a pretty good reason.”

She cut her eyes to him. “Emilio! Your brother would never do that. He was raised to respect women.”

Emphatically as she denied it, something in her eyes said she was afraid it might be true.

“If you had seen Isabelle, the ripped uniform and the bruises on her arms… She was terrified.”

She muttered something in Spanish and crossed her self.

“He needs help, Mama.”

“I know. He told me that bad people are after him. He asked to stay here. I told him no.”

“Good. We can't keep trying to save him. We have to let him hit rock bottom. He has to want to help himself.”

“You told him you're no longer brothers. You didn't mean it.”

“I did mean it. He hurt the woman I love.”

“How can you love her after what she did to you? She left you for that rich man. She only cared about money. That's the only reason she's back now.”

“She came to me because she wanted help for her mother, not herself. And she didn't marry Betts for his
money. The only reason she left me for him is because her father threatened to hurt her mother.”

He waited for the shock, but there was none, confirming what he already suspected. “You knew about the abuse, didn't you? You knew that Isabelle's father was hurting them. You
had
to.”

She didn't answer him.

“Mama.”

“Of course I knew,” she said softly. “The things that man did to them.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if she were trying to block the mental image. “It made me sick. And poor Mrs. Winthrop. Sometimes he beat her so badly, she would be in bed for days. And Isabelle, she always stayed right by her mother's side. I never speak ill of the dead, but that man did the world a favor when he died.”

“You should have told me. I could have helped her.”

She shook her head. “No. He would have hurt you, too. I was always afraid that something bad would happen if he found out about you and Isabelle.”

“Well, he found out.” He almost told her that Estefan was the one who ratted him out, but he didn't want to hurt her any more than necessary.

“You had the potential to go so far, Emilio. I was relieved when she left you.”

“Even though you knew how much I loved her?”

“I figured you would get over her eventually.”

“But I didn't. As bitter as I was, I never stopped loving her.”

Was that guilt in her eyes? “What difference does it make now? Alejandro said she's going to prison.”

“Not if I can help it.”

She set the spoon down and pushed the bowl aside. “She stole money.”

“No, she didn't. She's innocent.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“I know it in my heart. In every fiber of my being. She's not a thief.”

“Even if that's true, everyone thinks she's guilty.”

He shrugged. “I don't care what everyone thinks.”

“Emilio—”

“Mama, do you remember what you told me when I asked you why you never remarried? You said Papa was your one true love, and there could be no one else. I finally understand what you meant. I was lucky enough to get Izzie back. I can't lose her again.”

“Even if it means ruining everything you've worked so hard for?”

“That's not going to happen. First thing Monday, I'm hiring a new attorney.”

“People will find out.”

“They probably will.”

“And I could argue with you until I'm blue in the face and it won't do any good, will it?”

He shook his head.

She drew in a deep breath, then blew it out. “Then I will pray for you, Emilio. For you and Isabelle.”

“Thank you, Mama.” At this point, he would take all the help he could get.

 

Isabelle called her mother Friday, but she was out with Ben. They went to dinner with friends, then they left Saturday morning for an overnight trip to Phoenix to see an old college buddy of Ben's. Isabelle didn't get a chance to talk to her until Monday morning. She took the news much better than Isabelle expected. In fact, she suspected all along that Isabelle had been “bending” the truth.

“Sweetheart,” she said, fixing them each a cup of tea
in her tiny kitchenette. “You know I can always tell when you're lying. And,
Mrs. Smith?
”

Isabelle couldn't help but smile. “Not very creative, huh?”

“I thought it was awfully coincidental that you were working in the same neighborhood where Emilio lived. Then I mentioned him and you got very nervous.”

“And people think I'm capable of stealing millions of dollars.” She sighed. “Not only am I a terrible liar, but I don't even know how to balance a checkbook.”

Her mother walked over with their tea and sat down at the table.

“I'm sorry I lied to you, but I promised Emilio I wouldn't tell anyone I was staying there. It was part of our deal.”

“Emilio is going to help you, right?”

“He's going to talk to his brother on your behalf. You won't be serving any time.”

“But what about you?”

They had been through this so many times. “There isn't anything he can do. You know what Lenny's lawyer said. The evidence against me is indisputable.”

“There has to be something Emilio can do. Can't he talk to his brother? Make some sort of deal?”

She was just as bad as Emilio, refusing to accept reality. She wished they would both stop being so stubborn. But she didn't want her mother to worry so she said, “I'll ask him, okay?”

Her mother looked relieved.

“So, tell me about this weekend trip. Did you have fun?”

She lit up like a firefly. “We had a
wonderful
time. Ben has the nicest friends. The only thing that was a little unexpected was that they put us in a bedroom together.”

Her brows rose. “Oh really?”

“Nothing happened,” she said, then her cheeks turned
red and she added, “Well, nothing much. But he is a very nice kisser.”

“Only nice?”

Her smile was shy, with a touch of mischief. “Okay, better than nice.”

They talked about her trip with Ben and what they had planned for the coming weekend. He clearly adored her mother, and the feeling was mutual. Isabelle was so happy she had found someone who appreciated her, and made her feel good about herself. At the same time she was a little sad that she wouldn't be around to see their relationship grow. Of course, they could always write letters, and her mother could visit.

Maybe she was a little jealous, too, that she had finally found her heart's desire, and it had to end in only a few weeks. They wouldn't even get to spend Christmas together.

She drove back to Emilio's fighting the urge to feel sorry for herself. When she pulled in the driveway there was an unfamiliar car parked there. A silver Lexus. She considered pulling back out. What if it was someone who shouldn't know she was staying there? But hadn't Emilio said he didn't care who knew?

She pulled the Saab in the garage and let herself in the house. Emilio met her at the door. “There you are. I was about send out a search party.”

“I went to see my mother.”

“Is everything okay? She wasn't angry?”

“Not at all.”

“I need to get you a cell phone, so I can reach you when you're out.”

For less than a month? What was the point? “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing. In fact, I have some good news. Come in the living room, there's someone I want you to meet.”

There was a man sitting on the couch, a slew of papers on the table in front of him. When they entered the room, he stood.

“Isabelle, this is David Morrison.”

He was around Emilio's age, very attractive and dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. “Ms. Winthrop,” he said, shaking her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too,” she said, shooting Emilio a questioning look.

“David is a defense attorney. One of the best. He's going to be taking over your case.”

“What?”

“We're firing Clifton Stone.”

“But…why?”

“Because he's giving you bad advice,” Mr. Morrison said. “I've been going over your case. The evidence against you is flimsy at best. We'll take this to trial if necessary, but honestly, I don't think it will come down to that.”

“I was using Lenny's lawyer because he was representing me pro bono. I can't afford a lawyer.”

“It's taken care of,” Emilio said.

She shook her head. “I can't let you do this.”

“The retainer is paid. Nonrefundable. It's done.”

“But I can't go to trial. The only way my mother will avoid prison is if I plead out.” She turned to her “new” attorney. “Mr. Morrison—”

“Please, call me David.”

“David, I really appreciate you coming to see me, but I can't do this.”

“Ms. Winthrop, do you want to spend the next twenty years in prison?”

Was this a trick question? Did anyone
want
to go to prison? “Of course not.”

“If you stick with your current attorney, that's what will happen. I've seen lawyers reprimanded and in some cases disbarred for giving such blatantly negligent counsel. Either he's completely incompetent, or he has some sort of agenda.”

Agenda? How could he possibly benefit from her going to prison? “What about my mother? What happens to her?”

“Alejandro already told me they wouldn't ask for more than probation,” Emilio said.

“When did he say that?”

He hesitated, then said, “The day you came to see me in my office.”

So all this time she'd been working for him for no reason? She should be furious, but the truth was, it was a million times better here than at that dumpy motel. And if she hadn't come here, Emilio would have gone the rest of his life hating her. Maybe now they even had some sort of future together. Marriage and family, just like they had planned. Hope welled up with such intensity she had to fight it back down. She was afraid to believe it was real.

“You really think you could keep me and my mother out of prison?” she asked David.

“Worst case you may end up with probation. It would go a long way if the last few million of the missing money were to surface.”

“If I knew where it was I would have handed it over months ago. I gave them everything else.”

“I'm going to do some digging and see what turns up. In the meantime, I need you to sign a notice of change of counsel to make it official.”

She signed the document, but only after thoroughly reading it—she had learned her lesson with Lenny—then David packed up his things and left.

“I told you I wouldn't let you go to prison,” Emilio said,
sounding smug, fixing himself a sandwich before he went back to work.

“I still don't like that you're paying for it. What if someone finds out?”

“I've already said a dozen times—”

“You don't care who finds out. I know. But I do. Until I know for sure that I'm not going to prison, I don't want anyone to know. Even if that means waiting through a trial.”

“I suppose that means we'll have to wait to get married.”

Married? She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She knew he wanted to be with her, but this was the first time he had actually mentioned marriage.

“I was hoping we could start a family right away,” he said, putting the turkey and the mayo back in the fridge. “If we haven't already, that is. But we've waited this long. I guess a few more months won't kill me. Just so long as you know that I love you, and no matter what happens, I'm not letting you go again.”

He loved her, and wanted to marry her, and have a family with her. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. This was more than she ever could have hoped for. “I love you, too, Emilio.”

“This is all going to work out,” he told her, and she was actually starting to believe it.

“So, do you have to go back to work?” she asked, sliding her hands under his jacket and up his chest.

He grinned down at her. “That depends what you have in mind.”

Though they had spent the better part of the weekend making love in bed—and on the bedroom floor and in the shower, and even on the dining room table—she could never get enough of him. “We haven't done it in the kitchen yet.”

He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding her skirt up her thighs. “Well, that's an oversight we need to take care of immediately.”