Tough Enough

  “Yes, but, Rafe, don’t you think you should try to understand why he did it?”

  “I do understand. He’s a yellow-bellied snake.”

  “But, Rafe …”

  “I said, don’t worry about it.” He kissed her full on the mouth, a long, slow kiss that made her tremble in his arms. “That’s better,” Rafe said. “Now you’re paying full attention.”

  He got up with her in his arms and carried her out of the study and down the hall to her bedroom.

  A LONG WHILE LATER MARGARET stirred amid the sheets, opened her eyes and blinked at the hot, lazy sunlight that dappled the patio outside the glass door. She knew without lifting her head to see his face that Rafe was wide-awake. His arm was around her, holding her close against his side but his gaze was on the bright light bouncing off the pool water.

  “You’re thinking about Hatcher, aren’t you?” Margaret asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do, Rafe?”

  “Fire him.”

  She didn’t move. “And the Ellington deal?”

  “It’ll go through.”

  “This isn’t just a case of beating Moorcroft to the punch, is it?”

  “No.”

  “Rafe, tell me what you’re planning. I have to know why this Ellington thing is so special to you.”

  “It doesn’t concern you, Maggie, love. Let it be.”

  She sat up, holding the sheet to her breasts, and searched his face. “It does concern me. I can feel it. Please tell me the truth, Rafe. I have to know what you’re going to do.”

  He regarded her in silence for a long moment. “You won’t like it, Maggie. You’re too gentle to understand why I’m doing it.”

  “I’ve got guts, remember? Tell me.”

  He shrugged in resignation. “All right, I’ll spell it out. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. The Ellington deal is the first falling domino in a long line that’s going to end with Moorcroft Industries.”

  Margaret froze. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve lured Moorcroft way out on a limb. He’s mortgaged to the hilt. Going after Ellington will weaken him still further. There’s no way he’ll be able to fend off a takeover when I get ready to do it.”

  “You’re going to put him out of business? Destroy Moorcroft Industries?” Margaret was appalled. “Rafe, you can’t do that.”

  “Watch me.”

  Horrified, Margaret grabbed his bare shoulder. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? You’re going to ruin Jack Moorcroft because of what happened last year. He was right. The business rivalry between the two of you has escalated into something else, something ugly.”

  “This is between Moorcroft and me. Don’t concern yourself.”

  “Are you nuts? How can I help but concern myself? I’m the cause of this mess.”

  “No.”

  Margaret shook her head. “That’s not true. Answer one question for me, Rafe. Would you be plotting now to take over Moorcroft Industries if that fiasco last year hadn’t occurred?”

  He eyed her consideringly. “No.”

  “So you’re doing this on account of me.”

  “Maggie, love, don’t get upset. I told you you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I do understand. I understand only too well. You’re bent on revenge. You have been all along.”

  “He’s got to pay, Maggie. One way or another.”

  She could have cut herself on the sharp edges of his voice. “You can’t blame him because I felt loyal to him. Rafe, that’s not fair. I’m the one you should punish.”

  “It wasn’t your fault you felt loyal to him,” Rafe said impatiently. “I told you that. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t blame Moorcroft, either. At least not for your sense of loyalty.”

  “Then why are you plotting to destroy him?” Margaret asked wildly.

  “Because of the things he said and implied about you after you left his office that morning.”

  Margaret was truly shaken now. “Oh, my God. You mean that stuff about me having been his mistress? But, Rafe, he was lying.”

  “I know. I’m going to see he pays for the insults and the lies he told about you.”

  “You’re doing all this to avenge my honor or something?” she gasped as it finally sank in.

  “If you want to put it that way, yes. He shouldn’t have said what he did about you, Maggie.”

  Dazed, Margaret got out of bed and picked up the nearest garment to cover herself. It was Rafe’s shirt. She thrust her arms into the long sleeves, sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped her hands. The enormity of what he was planning in the name of vengeance nearly swamped her.

  “Rafe, you can’t do it,” she finally whispered.

  “Sure I can. Code of the West and all that, remember?”

  “This is not funny. Don’t try to make a joke out of it. Rafe, I can’t have this on my conscience.” She shook her head. “An entire company in ruins because of a few nasty remarks made by some male flaunting his latest victory. I can’t bear to be the cause of so much destruction. I fully agree Moorcroft shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

  “Damn right.”

  “Look, he was deliberately taunting you because he knew he’d won on the Spencer deal. You know how men are, always pushing, jostling, shouldering each other around. They see everything in terms of victory and defeat and when they see themselves as winners, they like to rub it in.”

  “Thank you for giving me the benefit of your deep, psychological insights into the male sex, ma’am. I think I like the Code of the West approach better, though. It’s simpler.”

  “That’s because you like to think in terms of black and white. Rafe, my father himself said that whole mess last year was one big area of gray and he’s a great one for preferring things in black and white. If he can let it go, you can, too. We have each other now. That’s all that really counts.”

  “Moorcroft has to pay, Maggie, and that’s all there is to it. Stay out of it.”

  “I can’t stay out of it. I caused it. You’ve said so yourself, often enough. Think about what you’re doing. Granted Moorcroft was out of line in the things he said, but he doesn’t deserve to be destroyed because of it. He’s put his whole life into Moorcroft Industries, just as you’ve put yours into Cassidy and Company. Furthermore, there will be dozens of jobs on the line. You know that. These things always cost a lot of jobs. Innocent people will get hurt.”

  “For God’s sake, don’t try to make me feel sorry for the man or his company.”

  “Then try feeling sorry for me,” she snapped. “I’m going to have to bear this burden on my conscience for the rest of my life.”

  “Hell. I was afraid you’d feel that way. I told you, you’re too soft when it comes to things like this, Maggie. This is the way the business world functions and that’s all there is to it.”

  “You mean this is the way men function.”

  “Amounts to the same thing. We still run the business world.”

  Margaret leaped to her feet in frustration. “I can’t stand it. I have never met such a stubborn, thickheaded, unreasonable creature in my whole life. Rafe, you are being impossible. Utterly impossible.”

  “What the hell do you expect me to do? Act like that dim-witted Roarke Cody in Ruthless and let a multimillion-dollar deal go down the toilet just to please a woman?”

  Margaret faced him from the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips. “Yes, damn it, that’s exactly what I expect.”

  Rafe watched her with hooded eyes. “And if I don’t agree to do what you want?”

  “I will be furious.”

  “I don’t care if you get mad. The question is, are you going to walk out on me?”

  “No, I am not going to walk out on you, but I am going to be very, very angry and I will not hesitate to let you know it,” she shouted.

  “Prove it.”

  “Prove what? That I’m mad? What do you want me to do? Take a swing at you? Br
eak a lamp over your head? Believe me, I’m tempted.”

  “No. Prove you won’t walk out on me.”

  “The only way to prove it is to let you go through with this crazy revenge plan. And I won’t agree to do that. I’m going to fight you every inch of the way, Rafe, I promise you.”

  Rafe laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back against the pillows. “You still don’t understand. I want you to marry me. Now. Tonight. We can take a plane to Vegas.”

  Margaret took a step backward, shocked. “Marry you? Tonight? Why? What will that prove? You already know I love you. What’s the rush?”

  Rafe’s smile was dangerous. “Maybe I still feel a little uncertain of you. Maybe I want to know you won’t threaten to postpone the marriage as a means of manipulating me into doing what you want. Maybe I want to know that this time you love me enough to marry me even though you’re madder than hell at me.”

  Margaret exploded. “You sneaky son of a … You weren’t satisfied with the way I bloodied my knees in that little scene down the hall a while ago, were you? You want me to trample my pride right into the dust, don’t you?”

  Rafe shook his head. “No. I just want to know that you’ll marry me even knowing you can’t change me and that you aren’t always going to like the way I operate.”

  Margaret threw up her hands in a gesture of exasperated surrender. “All right, I’ll marry you.”

  “Now? Tonight?”

  “If that’s what you want. But I promise you I am going to argue this thing about crushing Moorcroft with you all the way to Vegas and back.”

  Rafe grinned. “It’s a deal. Get dressed while I phone the airlines and see how soon we can get out of here.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  TWO DAYS AFTER HIS MARRIAGE, Rafe strode past two startled secretaries and straight into Moorcroft’s office. Moorcroft looked up at the intrusion, his expression at first annoyed and then immediately cautious.

  “Well, hello, Cassidy. What brings you to San Diego?”

  Rafe tossed the Ellington file onto the desk in front of the other man. Then he removed his pearl-gray Stetson and hung it on the end of the sleek Italian-style desk lamp.

  “Unfinished business,” Rafe explained, dropping into a black leather chair.

  Moorcroft hesitated and then opened the file. He scanned the contents, absorbing the implications quickly. When he looked up again, his mouth was tight. “So you knew about my pipeline into your office all along? Knew Hatcher was keeping me informed?”

  “I figured something was going on. He used to be a good man. One of the best. But he’s changed recently.”

  “Probably because you’ve changed.” Moorcroft leaned back in his chair. “And he didn’t like the change.”

  “Is that right?” Rafe casually put his silver-and-turquoise-trimmed boots on Moorcroft’s richly polished desk. “What didn’t he like?”

  Moorcroft sighed mockingly. “Don’t you understand?

  You were his idol, Cassidy. The fastest gun in the West. Hatcher thought he was working for the best and he liked being on the winning side. But during the past year he decided you’d lost your edge.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Afraid so. In his opinion you’d become obsessed with a certain woman and that obsession had weakened you. A young man on the way up does not like discovering his idol has an Achilles’ heel. You were no longer the hotshot gunslinger he’d gone to work for three years ago. No longer the toughest, meanest, fastest desperado on the coast.”

  Rafe nodded. “I think I get the picture.”

  “Apparently for the past six months all you’ve done is plot revenge against me and worked on ways of getting Miss Lark back into your bed. Revenge he could understand, but not your single-minded desire to bed one specific lady.”

  “Looks like I failed as a role model.”

  “Something like that. It bothered him, Cassidy. When I contacted him on the off chance I could buy him, I discovered he was ripe for the picking.”

  “And you offered him a way to prove his newfound loyalty to you.”

  “What did you expect me to do?”

  “Exactly what you did do, I suppose.”

  Moorcroft shrugged. “You’d have done the same. We live and die on the basis of inside information in this business, Cassidy. You know that. We take it where we can get it.”

  “True. Going to give him a job when he comes looking for one?”

  “Hell, no. The guy’s proven he’s the type who will sell out his own boss. What do I want with him?”

  “Figured you say that.”

  Moorcroft glanced at the Ellington file. “But in this case it looks like Hatcher may have been a little premature in writing you off. He’s been feeding me false information almost from the start, hasn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And especially for the past week or so. It’s too late for me to counter now, isn’t it? Congratulations, Cassidy. Looks like you win this one.” Moorcroft reached behind his chair and opened a small, discreet liquor cabinet. “You drink Scotch, according to Hatcher. Can I offer you a glass?”

  “Sure.”

  Moorcroft poured Scotch into two glasses and pushed one across the desk to Rafe. Then he raised his own glass in a small salute. “Here’s to the thrill of victory. I guess this makes us even, doesn’t it? I got Spencer last year. You get Ellington this year.”

  “It’s not quite that simple, Moorcroft. Check the printout at the end of that file.”

  Moorcroft hesitated and then reopened the Ellington file. He flipped to the last page and scanned the detailed financial forecast and spreadsheet he found there. Then he looked up again. “So?”

  “So Ellington was merely the first.”

  “I can see that. Brisken was next?”

  “And then Carlisle.”

  Moorcroft’s eyes narrowed. “Carlisle? What do you want with it?”

  “Guess.”

  Moorcroft slowly closed the file again. “Carlisle has a major stake in Moorcroft Industries at the moment. You take control of them and you have a chunk of me.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Moorcroft swallowed the remainder of his Scotch in one long gulp. His fingers were very tight around the glass as he carefully set it down in front of him. “I was right, wasn’t I?” he asked softly. “You are gunning for me.”

  “That was the plan,” Rafe agreed. He studied the San Diego skyline outside the window. “Ellington, Brisken, Carlisle, and then Moorcroft. Dominoes all lined up in a neat little row.”

  “Why are you telling me this in advance? You’re giving me time to maneuver. Why do that?”

  “Because I’m canceling my plans. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to topple my little row of dominoes after all. I just wanted you to know what almost happened.” Rafe’s mouth curved faintly. “It’s about the only satisfaction I’m going to get.”

  “To what do I owe this unexpected generosity of spirit?” Moorcroft looked more wary than ever.

  “My wife. She didn’t like being the reason for the collapse of an empire the size of yours. She’s a soft little creature in some ways.” Rafe grinned and took a sip of Scotch. “Plenty of spirit, though. Feisty as hell. You haven’t been through anything until you’ve been through a wedding night with a bride who wants to lecture you on business ethics.”

  “We’re talking about Margaret Lark, I take it? You’ve married her?” Moorcroft looked a little bewildered.

  “Day before yesterday.”

  “Congratulations,” Moorcroft said dryly. “You’re a lucky man. I guess I am, too, if the reason you’re calling off the revenge bit is on account of her. Looks like she saved my tail. So she was worried enough about me to make you change your whole battle plan. Interesting.”

  “Don’t get too excited,” Rafe advised. “It wasn’t you she was concerned about. It was all the other innocent people who would go down with you. There’s always a lot of bloodletting in the case of an un
friendly takeover. You know that.”

  “She wouldn’t want that on her conscience.”

  “No.”

  “She’s a real lady, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah. She’s a lady all right. You forgot that last year.”

  Moorcroft nodded. “I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did last year.”

  “No,” Rafe agreed, his eyes still on the view.

  “You know why I said them?”

  “Sure. You wanted her and you knew you’d never have her,” Rafe said succinctly.

  “Never in a million years. She never gave me any sign of being interested in all the time she worked for me. Totally ignored every approach I tried to make. Then you appeared on the scene and she fell right into your hands.”

  “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, I had something going for me you didn’t have.”

  “What’s that?” Moorcroft glanced in disgust at Rafe’s hand-tooled boots.

  “I was the man of her dreams. Straight out of one of her books.”

  “Women.”

  “Yeah.” Rafe put his glass down on the desk and smiled fleetingly. “Maggie says they’re going to take over the business world one of these days and show us how to run things right.”

  “I can’t wait.” Moorcroft looked at the Ellington file and then at Rafe. He frowned. “Is this business between us really over, Cassidy?”

  “Almost.” Rafe slid his boots off the desk, got up and peeled off his jacket. Then he started to roll up his sleeves.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Moorcroft got slowly to his feet.

  “Finishing it.” Rafe smiled. “You get to keep your company but I can’t let you get off scot-free after insulting my wife’s honor. One way or another you’ve got to pay for that, Moorcroft. You know how it is. Code of the West and all that.”

  “I suppose it won’t do me any good to remind you she wasn’t your wife at the time?”

  “Nope. Doesn’t matter. She still belonged to me. She has since the day I met her, whether she knew it or not. You want to take off your jacket so it doesn’t get messed up? Looks like nice material.”

  Moorcroft eyed him for a long moment. Then he sighed again, shrugged off his jacket and unfastened the gold links on his cuffs.