‘He refused the invitation. To be fair I didn’t tell him you would be here.’
‘Just as well, I’d have planted a fist in that pretty mouth of his.’
Burt paced to the pile of boxes, crouched down and rifled through the files. ‘Every single routine all written in her own fair hand. I’m going to have to tell her, Lucas. Becca has the right to know.’
‘I do not think ...’
‘Becca has the right to know what?’ Becca said in a voice that chilled Lucas’s blood.
Lucas and Burt rose to their feet as Becca stepped into the room.
She’d caught the last part of their conversation and now kept furious eyes firmly on Lucas.
‘What’s going on?’
‘I thought you were going to bed.’
Outrage shimmered through her system. Who the hell was he to decide what she was to be told?
‘Don’t even think about playing me, Lucas.’ She turned and beaned Burt with a look. ‘What do I have the right to know? And don’t look at him, Burt, he’s not my keeper.’
The headache behind her eyes wound the band around her head even tighter.
Sinking onto the couch she listened as Burt told her the unvarnished truth.
Her throat felt as if she’d swallowed sand. ‘There must be some mistake.’
‘Where do you keep your copyrighted notes?’ Burt wanted to know.
Pressing the flat of her hand to her stomach to ease the hard knot of tension, Becca tried to think.
‘At the studio. Some are on their way to France with my things and some in a storage facility.’
Lucas pulled his cell phone from his pocket and jabbed a finger. ‘John? We need the car.’
Seriously alarmed now, Becca’s eyes flew to his hard face. ‘It’s late. Where are we going?’
Lucas’s dark eyes met hers. ‘You don’t believe us. I can see it in your eyes. We are going to the studio to pick up your notes and you’ll be able to see the contract details for yourself. You have keys?’
Her brain still refusing to compute, Becca nodded. ‘Yes.’
But she spoke to thin air because Lucas had left the room.
‘Good, it’ll save us having to pick the lock,’ Burt said with unholy gleam in his eye. Becca realised that on one level the big Australian was having the time of his life.
Lucas returned wearing a warm jacket and tossed one to Burt before helping her on with hers.
She found herself bundled into the back of the Bentley with John at the wheel.
Within fifteen minutes they’d entered the studio that had been the main part of Becca’s life for so many years. The scent of hard working bodies, damp clothes and talcum powder were so familiar and she realised how much she’d missed it. Feeling over emotional she led the way into the office space, slapped on the light and stopped dead.
Every shelf was empty. Large packing boxes were stacked on the floor each one carefully marked.
‘Looks like we were just in time,’ Lucas murmured.
Burt fired up the computer. ‘What’s the password?’
Becca told him as she used sharp scissors to split the tape along the top of a box.
She sank to her knees as she pulled out file after file of each dance including the ideas they’d kept and ones they’d discarded. Every single notation she’d made in the margins were there too along with brainstorming ideas.
Lucas called John on his cell, barked an order and turned to Becca.
‘You do not have time to go through these now. John will take everything that belongs to you back to the house.’
Burt printed out all the correspondence, the sincere sympathy in his eyes as he handed it to her almost undid her.
With shaky fingers, Becca read through the proof of what the person who was closer to her than family had done. How he’d taken credit for her work. How he’d lied to Burt about her. And how he’d negotiated payments into a single bank account, his own.
‘He told me he’d set up a separate account for this contract. How it would help to keep the books straight for our accountant. But it was all lies.’
‘We will get back any money that he owes you, Becca,’ Lucas said in a soft voice.
She turned on him. ‘It’s not about the damn money. I don’t need it!’
He blinked at her. ‘You don’t?’
‘Of course I don’t. I’m a wealthy woman. My father and Rick left me well provided for. The house didn’t have a mortgage. I sold it at the top of the market....’ She stopped, fisting the papers in her hand and simply held her aching head. How many times had Justin made snide comments about her being a wealthy widow? He’d always had a chip on his shoulder about how he’d come from nothing and she’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but she’d ignored it putting it down to his artistic insecurity that he wasn’t good enough.
What she couldn’t understand was
why
had he’d done it and why now? He knew she’d have given him anything he needed especially if he was in trouble.
‘But, why were you living in that tiny apartment? Why didn’t you at least get yourself a cleaner?’
Head hurting so bad she could barely focus, Becca closed her eyes against the too bright glare of the spotlights in the ceiling.
‘I told you, it was supposed to be temporary.’
‘Honey, you look like shit. I think we should get you home,’ Burt said.
‘Headache?’ Lucas asked in alarm.
‘A stinker. It feels like migraine.’
Lucas cursed himself that they’d brought her along on this escapade.
Utter fury jerked at the chains of his temper. If he got his hands on Justin, he’d kill him for this.
He scooped her up in his arms and Becca didn’t resist or complain. She simply dropped her head onto his shoulder and that told him more than anything how unwell she was.
Burt wiggled his fingers and bent towards the keyboard. ‘You take her home and send John back for me. I’ll email you all the juicy stuff. Justin’s been a busy boy.’
In spite of the horrible situation Becca found herself in, Lucas couldn’t help but be thankful for the support of his friend. The man was like a child in a candy store. A frown creased his brow as he left with Becca who was too quiet and too limp in his arms. She now had two people in her corner that would make damned sure Justin Cope rued the day he’d stolen from her.
As John gunned the engine and raced for home, Lucas heard his driver speaking to Moira on the hands free. Becca had captured the heart of his staff too and that was a first. He’d return once she was settled and help Burt. They weren’t breaking any laws Lucas told himself. Becca had let them in and given them permission to access the computer system.
Once he got her back in the house, she collapsed into bed.
She didn’t speak a word as he made her take a pill her doctor had prescribed for just such an event.
Lucas lay beside her and stroked her hair until she fell asleep.
Becca was naturally deeply upset, who could blame her?
What started out as an exercise to find out what Justin Cope was up to had become too complicated. Tobin had turned up a major issue with Justin in the United States which had the potential to blow his relationship with Becca out of the water and would need careful and sensitive handling. He’d shield Becca from the worst of it for as long as he could. Lucas shivered. The thought of her being in the clutches of such a man made his blood run cold.
Becca whimpered in her sleep and he held her close.
She was too quiet and introspective these days and appeared unhappy living here with him. His heart clenched. The fear that had stalked him for days licked a familiar path up his spine. For the first time he faced the possibility he might lose her. He was doing everything he could to make her happy by supporting her, loving her, but it wasn’t enough. Perhaps he wasn’t enough? Christ she would break him in ways he dare not think of if she left him.
He would not think of such things. His priority must be Becca and their babies. And when had he ever failed to have his heart’s desire? All he needed was a little faith to believe in himself and in her. She had strong feelings for him. No way was she faking it when they made love. The attraction between them was undeniable. But the feeling persisted that something was terribly wrong. All he needed was patience and determination to get to the bottom of it.
As he held her close, inhaled the wonderful scent of her hair, Lucas sent a heartfelt prayer to the Universe for guidance.
It started with little things.
There were no afternoon walks in the park. Becca was out when Lucas came home and no one knew where she’d gone. Initially he’d put her low mood down to the fact her mother had returned home but it soon became clear to him that something else was going on with her.
Lucas asked her to join him for dinner and she did so with a reluctance that brought an ache to his throat.
She was devastated by Justin’s behaviour. The bastard still refused to take her calls or answer her emails. Lucas wanted her to speak to a lawyer. But Becca refused point blank saying that if Justin needed money so badly then he was welcome to it. He must have, she said, been in serious trouble to do such a thing.
Naturally, Lucas himself was not so forgiving.
When Becca looked at him now he didn’t recognise affection or arousal but annoyance and a deep hurt in those big blue eyes that was driving him fucking crazy.
Frustration with her attitude to roll over and let what Justin did to her go, without doing anything about it, caused arguments and tonight’s was no different.
‘You need to keep out of my business,’ she told him.
Exasperation echoed in his voice. ‘You cannot let him get away with this. What if he does the same to another dancer?’
Vivid eyes flashed into his. ‘And that would be my fault?’
‘Surely you have a duty to warn others?’
‘You mean to destroy his career?’
‘It is no more than he deserves.’
‘He was there for me.’
Temper jerking on a too tight chain, Lucas set down his knife and fork with care and took a deep breath.
‘What he did was a classic case of abusing a person when she was vulnerable. He isolated you from your friends and family. He said you were too dependant upon your mother which was never true. And from what your mother told me he also dripped poison into her ear about Rick which caused a rift between you and your mother. He’s made an enemy of me simply to make it hard for you. The man is a control freak.’
Throwing her napkin on the table, Becca leapt to her feet.
‘If you want to see a control freak, look in the mirror. You’re the one who threatened him and caused him to feel insecure in our relationship.’
Stung, Lucas simply stared at her.
The chain snapped.
‘Bullshit. He was stealing from you long before you ever met me!’ he roared.
‘And it’s none of your damned business,’ she yelled back.
‘You are taking your anger and frustration out on me. This is a classic case of shooting the messenger.’
He could almost hear her counting to ten as her hands clenched at her sides.
‘For the third and last time I will deal with Justin in my own way when I am ready.’
In spite of the voice in his head warning him to back off, Lucas couldn’t leave it there.
‘You are in denial.’
That stubborn chin came up and those eyes were so cold he almost shivered.
‘What I am is tired. Tired of Justin, tired of being stuck here, and most of all tired of
you
.’
She spun and dashed out of the room, up the stairs and he let her go.
The boom of her bedroom door made him wince as he realised that yet again she wouldn’t be in his bed this night.
But dammit, why was everything his fault?
She needed a break, Becca decided.
A break from Lucas and a break from the storm of emotions roaring through her system. She was being tossed around like a paddle boat in a hurricane.
Opening her suitcase, Becca carefully searched for one of her most prized possessions, a framed photograph of a deliriously happy Rick taken on their honeymoon in the Maldives. A shaky finger traced his hair, his face, before she placed the picture on the bedside table. She was so tired of dealing with all the stuff that seemed to be hitting her on a daily basis. The turmoil of meeting Lucas and her behaviour which was so out of character, along with her pregnancy and now Justin’s betrayal. Rick and Lily had been pushed to the back of her mind. The realisation had guilt and shame hit her too hard. The anniversary of their burial was tomorrow and all she could think about was herself. What a truly selfish individual she’d become.
Becca got ready for bed. It was pure impulse that had her shrug on one of Rick’s shirts in a bone colour and roll up the sleeves. The soft texture gently warmed her cold skin as trembling fingers buttoned up the shirt that fell below her knees. For months she’d slept in his shirts after he died. Inhaling his scent had brought comfort and it comforted her now.
She switched off the light and snuggled under the duvet, burying her face in the garment desperately seeking a connection to him.
Her exhausted mind tumbled her into sleep.
Deep into memories and deep into dreams.
She was dreaming.
The logical part of her brain was aware of that fact even as a luminous circle of light appeared before her. Wearing pale blue jeans and a matching cotton chambray shirt, Rick stood with a little girl of eighteen months balanced on his hip who wore pale pink dungarees and a white T-shirt.
Becca knew it was her child, Lily. She had tumbling curls the colour of burnt toffee and big blue eyes edged with ridiculously thick lashes. Her fingers stroked her daddy’s hair as she gave Becca a shy dimpled smile. They appeared terribly happy which instead of making her sad, a feeling of rightness washed over Becca. She desperately wanted to touch, to hold, but instinct told her it wasn’t the right place or the right time.
As one, Becca, Rick and Lily turned to survey a moment from the past.
The scene unfolding before them now was the day she’d buried her family.
‘Earth to Earth, ashes to ashes and dust to dust.’