Fugitive Fiancée (17 page)

“And you believe him?”

He'd raised her unvoiced fears. The ones that had kept her awake at night. What if Paul decided he didn't want a divorce? What if this nightmare went on and on? “What else can I do?”

Garrett reached for her hand.

“Believe in us.”

 

P
AUL MADE UP
his mind by the time he reached the Casville estate. He sat in the driver's seat of his Jaguar, impatiently waiting for Rupert's black Lexus to clear the gate. Then he pulled in behind him, mentally composing his best sales speech. The information he
had to sell should be worth a least a million dollars. But first, he'd have to entice the old tightwad to choke up that much money.

Especially since Rupert was convinced his daughter had just been kidnapped by some crazed cowboy. Paul emitted a derisive snort as he pulled into the circular drive, then cut the engine. Hadn't Rupert noticed that Mimi wasn't fighting her abductor? Hadn't he seen the relief in her eyes?

“To hell with her,” Paul muttered, climbing out of his car and slamming the door behind him. She could ride off into the sunset with Howdy Doody for all he cared. Paul Renquist was still going to come out a winner.

He walked into the house and almost bumped into Rupert, who stood frozen in the doorway of his study. One glimpse at Rupert's stunned expression told him the game might not be over, after all.

Mimi sat behind Rupert's desk.

“Thank God,” Rupert exclaimed, walking into the study. “I thought you'd been kidnapped. I was just about to call the police.”

“That still might be a good idea,” she said, her gaze fixed on Paul.

He walked through the open door, ignoring her threat. For the past week, he'd seen the fear reflected in her eyes. Fear he'd put there. And he'd relished the power it gave him. Now he wanted to see it there again. To wipe that confident expression off her beautiful face.

“I don't think we'll need the police,” Paul said as he ambled into the study, “but your father might want
to consult a good lawyer. One who specializes in child custody cases.”

Rupert looked between the two of them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Paul smiled. “More than you know at the moment, Rupert.”

Mimi folded her hands together. “Go ahead, Paul. Tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Rupert demanded.

Paul met her gaze. He knew she was bluffing. She
had
to be bluffing. “Your daughter's been keeping a secret from you, Rupert.”

He waited for the fear to flash in her blue eyes. But she just stared at him, her expression as serene as it had been the moment he'd walked into the study.

Doubt gnawed at him. But he couldn't back down. Not with one million reasons to stay in the game. He turned toward Rupert. “She'll never tell you, but I will. For a price.”

Adrenaline pumped through his blood. Like the high he used to get from his first martini of the day. Power. He'd fed off it since giving up the booze. Not a perfect replacement, but definitely addictive.

Rupert walked to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. Then he turned to his daughter. “Let's start at the beginning. Who was that man who abducted you from the wedding?”

She stood and walked to her father, taking the drink out of his hand. “His name is Garrett Lord.” She went to the bar and tossed the whiskey into the sink. “And you know that stuff isn't good for you.”

Rupert sighed. “I thought maybe I was too sober
for all of this to make sense.” He settled into a leather armchair. “Who is Garrett Lord?”

“The man who found me in his hayloft after I ran out of the first wedding. It might interest you to know that I overheard you and Paul talking about your incentive program shortly before the ceremony was due to start.”

Rupert paled. “Mimi, I—”

She held her hand in the air. “It doesn't matter anymore.”

Her father frowned. “You've been living with this Lord fellow all this time?”

“Yes.” Her voice softened. “And falling in love with him.”

“What about Paul?”

“Paul tracked me down at Garrett's ranch and blackmailed me into marrying him.”

Paul stepped forward, all too aware that the situation was slipping out of his control. If Mimi turned Rupert against him, he'd lose everything. Time to play his trump card. “Rupert, there's something else you should know. Something important.”

“No,” Mimi said sharply. “Let me.” Then she squared her shoulders and faced her father. “Dad, you have a grandson.”

 

M
IMI HELD
her breath, waiting for her father's reaction. Rupert just stared at her, his mouth working, but no words came out.

At last, he turned to Paul. “I want to talk to my daughter alone.”

Paul glanced at Mimi, then at Rupert. “But—”

“Get the hell out of here!” Rupert ordered.

Mimi held her breath, fearing the situation could get ugly if Paul stayed and tried to drive a wedge between them. But at last he turned on his heel and left the study.

Rupert walked toward the door, his shoulders stiff. He closed it, then stood for a moment with his back to her. At last he turned, his face looking older and grayer than before. “You had the baby.”

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes. “I really need a whiskey.”

“I really need you to listen to me,” she replied, her voice tight. “For once.”

Then she told him everything. Rupert's shoulders sagged as her story unfolded, but he didn't interrupt. Didn't lose his temper, as she'd half expected. When she finally finished, she felt drained. But for the first time in over ten years, there were no secrets between them.

“A grandson,” Rupert said softly, sagging onto the leather sofa. “I have a grandson.”

“His name is Joshua,” Mimi said, walking to her father and seating herself beside him on the sofa. “He's ten years old. But you're a stranger to him. And so am I.”

He looked at her. “Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“Because I was afraid.”

He frowned. “Afraid of what? I love you, Mimi, no matter what. I never would have blamed you or disowned you.”

“No, Dad,” she interjected, “I was afraid you wouldn't listen to me. I knew adoption was the right
choice for me. I knew it in my heart then, and I know it now.”

“But I could have raised that boy right! I could have given him every advantage.” Hope flared in his faded brown eyes. “I still can.”

“See?” she challenged, reaching for his big hand, softened with wrinkles. “You're still not listening. It was
my
choice. I won't let you disrupt his life.”

He squeezed her hand. “But a grandson! I've always wanted a grandson.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “And I plan to give you lots of grandchildren. But on one condition.”

His gaze grew wary. “What condition?”

“You'll leave Joshua and his parents completely alone. Or else you'll never see me again. Or any of your future grandchildren.”

He arched one grizzled brow. “Is that a threat?”

“It's a promise.”

He sighed. “You've become as tough a negotiator as your old man.”

“Do we have a deal?”

He stood up and walked to the open French doors. He stared outside for a long moment, then turned to face her. “Mimi, I'll never forgive myself for paying Paul to marry you. I should have realized how unhappy you were when you ran away from the wedding. Then I fooled myself into thinking you came back because you truly did love Paul. I never knew he was blackmailing you.”

“I know, Dad,” she said gently.

“If never knowing Joshua…” His voice cracked,
and he took a deep, shuddering breath. “If that is my penance, then so be it.”

Hope flared inside her. “Really?”

For the first time in her life, she saw her father's eyes fill with tears. She'd never seen him cry before, not even at her mother's funeral.

“Facing death does funny things to a man,” Rupert began. “Makes him realize he's not in control of his own destiny. I couldn't accept that, so I tried to control the people around me. Including the daughter I love more than life itself.” He walked to her. “I don't want to lose you, Mimi—even though I couldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again. If you're willing to give me a second chance, I'm more than ready to take it.”

Mimi stood and held out her hand. “Shall we shake on it?”

He grabbed her hand, then pulled her into his arms for a hug that left her breathless.

“I love you, Dad,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” he said gruffly. “Now, when do I get those grandchildren you mentioned?”

She laughed as she stepped out of his embrace. “I'd better find myself a husband first.”

He narrowed his eyes. “From the way that Lord fellow was looking at you, I'd say there's a good chance I've got a grandchild already on the way. Maybe I'd better find my shotgun.”

A blush burned her cheeks. “Forget the shotgun and find a telephone instead. I want you to call Bettina Collingsworth.”

He scowled. “That gossip columnist? Why would I possibly want to talk to her?”

“Because I'm going to give her an exclusive on my wedding, provided she agrees to do me a small favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“You'll see.” She smiled, then headed toward the door. “Just tell her to contact me as soon as possible.”

“Where are you going?”

“I've got to hunt down a groom.”

P
AUL PACED
outside Rupert's study, frantically trying to come up with a contingency plan. It was entirely possible Mimi might hold something back. The boy's name or location, for instance. That information had to be worth something to Rupert. Not a million dollars, of course, but perhaps a hundred thousand?

The study door opened, and Rupert waved him inside. “Come in, Paul. We need to talk.”

His legs shook slightly as he followed Rupert into the study. He was surprised to find Mimi already gone, and assumed she'd left through the French doors leading out to the garden. Perhaps old man Casville had kicked her butt out of the house. No doubt he was pretty steamed by her duplicity.

Given this new turn of events, Paul reconsidered his strategy. Perhaps one million had been too conservative. He'd start his asking price at a million, then negotiate from there.

“Have a seat,” Rupert said, moving behind his desk. His checkbook lay open in front of him.

Paul picked the chair nearest the desk. He could see that the top check was already made out and signed. The number of zeros on it made his heart skip a beat.

“My daughter has told me some very disturbing
news,” Rupert began, neatly separating the signed check from the checkbook along the perforation.

Paul's pulse picked up. “It must have come as quite a shock to you.”

“You can't even begin to imagine how I feel.”

Paul leaned back in his chair, not wanting to appear too eager. “Curious, I expect. And I'll be more than happy to satisfy that curiosity.”

“Curious?” Rupert shook his head. “No. Furious would be more accurate. Furious with myself for allowing a snake like you near my daughter. And furious with you for having the nerve to blackmail her.”

Paul sat up. “But—”

“Shut up!” Rupert roared. “Now, I'm going to talk nice and slow so you understand.” He held up the check. “This goes to my lawyer, my
new
lawyer, in a sealed envelope, along with a letter. If anything happens to my daughter or to Joshua, if you even so much as cause one of them to break a fingernail, then that letter gets delivered.”

Paul tried to breathe, but he couldn't seem to suck any air into his lungs.

“Don't you want to know what's in the letter?” Rupert didn't wait for him to respond. “Detailed instructions to a certain man, a mercenary, who will be more than happy to break your arms, your legs and any other appendages I deem appropriate.”

Rupert waved the check in the air. “This is double his usual fee, so I know he'll be eager to perform the job to my satisfaction.”

Paul swallowed hard. “I think I understand perfectly.”

“Wonderful. Now about this information you have
for me.” Rupert placed his steepled fingers under his grizzled chin. “I hope you were going to tell me that you plan to leave the country soon. Permanently. South America, perhaps? Or Europe?”

Paul gave a jerky nod.

“Good.” Rupert leaned back in his chair. “I think you'll be happier there, Paul. And much safer.”

 

G
ARRETT PICKED UP
the telephone receiver to check for a dial tone. The phone was still working. So why hadn't Mimi called yet?

He paced back and forth across the braided rug in his living room, a fire crackling in the hearth. She'd left for her father's house a lifetime ago. He checked his watch. Three hours, to be exact.

So where was she now?

His stomach twisted as the worst possibility came to mind. Maybe her father or Renquist had convinced her to go through with the ceremony. Maybe she was already married.

“Hell,” he muttered, thrusting one hand through his hair. He never should have let Mimi face her father alone, even if she had insisted on it. He walked impatiently to the window, but the driveway was still empty. He vaguely noted that Hubert had finally stopped barking at the coyotes.

A sound at the front door made his heart leap, then he recognized it as Hubert's characteristic scratching. He moved toward the door, wondering if he should drive into Austin and look for Mimi. He turned the doorknob and opened it far enough for the little dog to scamper inside, his toenails clicking on the hardwood floor.

Hubert headed straight for his dog dish. His empty dog dish.

“Sorry, boy,” Garrett said, walking into the kitchen and retrieving a bag of dog food from the cupboard underneath the sink. “I forgot about supper.”

Hubert sat in front of his dog dish, waiting patiently for Garrett to serve him.

That's when he saw it. Clipped to Hubert's collar was a small scroll of paper, tied with a red bow. He dumped the dry dog food kernels into the bowl, spilling half of them onto the floor. Then he dropped the bag and untied the bow.

The notepaper unfurled in his hand, and he read one simple sentence.

Meet me in the hayloft.

Grinning, Garrett stuffed the note into his shirt pocket, then sprinted for the door. By the time he got to the barn, his heart was beating double time in his chest. A horse whinnied, then quieted. He reached the ladder leading to the hayloft in four long strides. He grabbed a plank rung, then climbed up the ladder, one hand over the other.

“About time you got here, cowboy.”

He turned to see Mimi smiling at him. She was perched on a bale of straw wearing a simple white wedding dress that outlined her hourglass figure, then flared at her hips. At her bare feet lay a large blue blanket over a thick mattress of loose straw.

A bottle of champagne sat chilling in a tin bucket of ice nearby. Right next to a CD player emitting a sultry, lilting tune.

He stared at the blanket for a moment, his body
instantly responding to the silent invitation, then he looked at Mimi. He stood there a moment, drinking in the sight of her. His fears of never seeing her again melted away in the warmth of her smile.

She arched a blond brow. “Do you want to know why there's a bride in your barn?”

“I do.”

She smiled. “Now there's an interesting choice of words. I don't suppose you'd want to repeat them. Say in front of a minister?”

He looked around the loft. “Did you bring one with you?”

“No.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Actually, if you want me to be honest with you…”

“Always,” he interjected.

She cleared her throat. “I told my father that he'd be having grandchildren. Soon. Now, I know we haven't even discussed marriage…”

“Then let's remedy that right now.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the diamond ring he'd bought just a few short hours ago. Then he fell to one knee, reaching for her left hand and sliding the ring smoothly onto her fourth finger. It fit perfectly.

“Mimi Banyon Casville,” he said solemnly, “will you marry me?”

“I thought you'd never ask!” She threw her arms around his neck, and they both tumbled backward onto the blanket.

“I take it that's a yes,” he said, laughing as he lay flat on his back.

“Definitely a yes.” She sat up and straddled his waist. “Now I've got you exactly where I want you.”

Garrett's body tightened, and when he spoke, his voice was low and husky.

“The question is, what are you going to do with me?”

She reached down and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Everything.”