"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 unfriendly 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.
Rafe went over to the door and locked it.
When he walked out of the office ten minutes later he paused briefly to tug his Stetson low over his eyes. He smiled brilliantly at the two secretaries. "Your boss won't be taking any more appointments today, ladies."
"You're married? What the hell do you mean, you're married?" Connor Lark roared at his daughter as he climbed out of the car and went around to the passenger side to open the door for Bev. "We go away for a few days to give you and Cassidy a chance to work out your differences and you up and get hitched. Couldn't you at least have waited until we got back?"
"Sorry, Dad, Rafe was in a hurry. Hello, Bev. How was Sedona?"
"Just lovely." Bev gave her a quick hug and then stood back to look at her new daughter-in-law. "Did that son of mine really marry you while we were gone?"
"It was real cheap and tacky, Bev. A Vegas wedding, no less. But it was for real." Margaret smiled warmly at the older woman but a part of her was waiting to make certain Bev approved. You'd make him a better mistress than a wife.
"My dear, I couldn't be more delighted," Bev said gently. "You'll make him a wonderful wife. And Rafe knew it all along. We'll have to give him credit for t
hat, won't we? Don't worry about the cheap and tacky wedding. We'll make up for it with a lovely reception. I can't wait to start planning it."
"Well, there's no rush," Margaret assured her dryly. "The groom isn't even in town."
Connor plucked a suitcase out of the trunk. "Where the devil is he?"
"Took off this morning with hardly a goodbye kiss. Just announced at breakfast he was catching a plane to California. I haven't seen him since. Can you imagine? And after all those promises he made about not letting his business dominate his life anymore, he no sooner gets my name on a marriage certificate than he takes off. I guess the honeymoon is over."
Bev frowned. "Is that true, dear? He's gone off on business? I can't believe he'd do such a thing."
"I can." Margaret grinned. "But in this case I'm going to let him get away with it. I think I know where he went."
"Yeah?" Connor turned his head at the sound of a familiar car coming up the long, sweeping drive. "Where was that?"
Margaret watched the Mercedes come toward them, a sense of deep satisfaction welling up within her. "He had to take care of some unfinished business in San Diego."
The Mercedes came to a halt and Rafe got out. Margaret raced toward him and threw herself into his arms. "It's about time you got here," she whispered against his chest as she hugged him fiercely.
Rafe sucked in his breath and winced slightly. "Easy, honey."
Margaret looked up in alarm. "Rafe, are you all right?"
"Never better." He was grinning again as he bent his head to kiss her soundly.
"I was afraid you wouldn't get home this evening."
"Hey, I'm a married man now. I've got responsibilities here at home." He looked at Connor and Bev and nodded a friendly greeting. "Looks like we're going to be one big happy family again tonight. Damn. I was hoping for a little privacy. This is supposed to be a honeymoon, you know."
"Don't worry, Cassidy, your Mom and I won't be staying long," Connor assured him. "We're on our way to California. Just wanted to check up on you two and make sure you hadn't throttled each other while we were out of town."
"As you can see, Maggie and I have worked out our little differences. Hang on a second."
Rafe released Margaret to open the rear door of the Mercedes. He reached inside to remove a large, flat parcel.
"What's that?" Margaret asked curiously.
"A wedding present."
Margaret quickly dragged the package into the house and ripped off the protective wrapping while everyone stood around and watched. She laughed up at Rafe with sheer delight as she stood back to admire Sean Winters's Canyon.
"It's beautiful, Rafe. Thank you."
"I still think it looks like a bunch of squiggly lines but I'll try to think of it as an investment in my future brother-in-law's career."
Much later that night Margaret snuggled up beside her husband, drew an interesting circle on his bare chest and smiled in the shadows. "You went to see Jack Moorcroft today, didn't you?"
Rafe caught her teasing fingers and kissed them. "Uh-huh."
"You told him he was off the hook? That you aren't going to ruin him?"
"That's what I told him, all right."
Margaret levered herself up on her elbow to look down at him. "Rafe, I'm so proud of you for being able to handle that situation in a mature, reasonable, civilized fashion."
"That's me," he agreed, his lips on the inside of her wrist, "a mature, reasonable, civilized man."
Margaret studied his bent head and experienced a sudden jolt of unworthy suspicion. "You did behave in a mature, reasonable, civilized way when you went to see him, didn't you, Rafe?"
"Sure." He was kissing her shoulder now, pushing her gently back down onto the pillows.
"No Code of the West stuff or anything?" she persisted as she felt herself slipping under his sensual spell. "Rafe, you didn't do anything rash while you were visiting Moorcroft, did you?"
He kissed her throat and then raised his head to look down at her with gleaming eyes. "Maggie, love, I'm a businessman, not a gunfighter or an outlaw. Your romantic imagination sometimes gets a little carried away."
"I'm not so sure about that. Where you're concerned, my romantic imagination tends to be right on target." She reached up to put her arms around his neck and draw him down to her. "Remind me in the morning to send a telegram to some friends."
"Sure. Anything you say, Maggie, love. In the meantime what do you say we go for another midnight ride?"
"That sounds wonderful," she whispered, looking up at him with all her love in her eyes.
Katherine Inskip Hawthorne got her telegram while she was eating papaya at breakfast with her husband on Amethyst Island. Sarah Fleetwood Trace found hers waiting for her when she got back from a treasure-hunting honeymoon.
Married a cowboy. Definitely an old-fashioned kind of guy. Code of the West, etc. A little rough around the edges but fantastic in the saddle. Can't wait for you to meet him. Suggest we all vacation on Amethyst Island this year.
Love, Maggie
Sarah reached for the telephone at once and dialed Amethyst Island. "Maggie? She's let him talk her into letting herself be called Maggie?"
Katherine laughed on the other end of the line. "Obviously the woman is in love. How about that vacation here on the island?"
"Sounds like a truly brilliant idea to me," Sarah said, glancing at Gideon. "We'll all go treasure-hunting."
"It seems," said Katherine, "that we've already found our treasures."
"I think you're right."
^
Jayne Ann Krentz, The Cowboy
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends