Authors: Tamara Larson
She ignored his question and changed the subject. “Where is the ever-ambitious Kerry now, by the way? My private investigator didn’t say a word about her.”
“Your private investigator?”
“Well, yes, how else would I have found out about Theresa? I knew something was awry when I talked to you on the phone three days ago. You’ve always been a disastrous liar. I honestly wonder why you even bother.”
Realization dawned on
Duncan
and he inwardly groaned at his treatment of Jessie. “You had
me
investigated?”
“Really,
Duncan
you left me no choice. What was I supposed to do when I suspected you weren’t telling me everything? Besides, I still had several investigators on the payroll. It was better to make use of them rather than allow them to just walk around the city, padding their expense accounts, wasn’t it?”
“You could have just asked me, point blank,” he mumbled.
She laughed dryly. “Yes, that would have made perfect sense. You’d been so forthcoming with me up to then.”
Duncan
flushed. She had him there. But he still couldn’t believe she’d had him followed. Maybe she hadn’t changed so much after all. “Kerry left for
Europe
three and a half years ago,” he said shortly.
A bright smile lit up his grandmother’s face. She tried to hide it, knowing it was impolite to show glee at her grandson’s separation, but
Duncan
could tell it was a struggle for her to seem even slightly regretful. She gave up and beamed at him. “Finally. It took seven years, but I finally got a return on my investment.”
“So you did offer her money to leave me at the altar?”
“I certainly did not,” she said emphatically, showing a glimmer of some of her old fire.
“Then what do you mean by investment?”
“Very simple actually. I never offered her anything. She offered.”
“My head is about to explode. Can you just tell me what you mean, please?”
“Very well then. Before the wedding, that little nobody of yours came to
me,
and offered to ‘disappear’ if I gave her a substantial amount of money. It seemed like an excellent investment in
your
future.”
Duncan
stared at her. Kerry had tried to extort money from his grandmother? In light of his last encounter with his wife, Evelyn’s claim rang true. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“When? You two eloped what felt like seconds after the check cleared. Would you have believed me anyway?”
He smiled bitterly. “Probably not. Is that what you meant about never giving into blackmailers?”
“Yes, that little tramp taught me a terrible lesson. Who knew it would cost me a million dollars and my grandson to learn it?”
He sighed and glanced sideways at his grandmother. She was staring out at the city, her full mouth turned down in anger at the memory of anyone getting the best of her.
Duncan
couldn’t help wondering what she’d been like as a girl. Was she always like this? So intimidating and determined? Her daughter, his mother, was flighty at best, and neglectful at worst. But his grandmother was as tough as diamonds. How had Kerry ever gotten the nerve up to try and thwart this woman?
Duncan wasn’t sure if he trusted his grandmother, but after hearing what Kerry had done ten years ago, he couldn’t stand being attached to her a moment longer. His grandmother was his only chance to escape her money-grubbing, manicured clutches. All thoughts of taking care of things on his own faded like mist when faced with the possibility of losing more of his future and his family funds to Kerry. “She’s trying it again, you know. Blackmail. She wants ten million dollars to sign the divorce papers.”
Evelyn’s posture stiffened a bit more and then she choked out a strange, triumphant laugh, like she was delighted that Kerry was up to her old tricks. “Ten million dollars? She is nervy, isn’t she? For the life of me, I can’t figure out why she never went into business. People without consciences generally do very well.”
The side of
Duncan
’s mouth quirked into an expression that was too bitter to be considered a smile. “Too lazy, I think. Even the most corrupt executive has to show up for work occasionally. Not exactly Kerry’s strong suit,” he said coldly.
Evelyn watched him for a moment as if gauging his sincerity. “Then it’s over?”
Duncan
nodded. She clapped her hands once excitedly and then reached for her handbag, which was sitting on one of the thickly cushioned lounges next to them. Rummaging for a moment, she pulled out a tiny, silver cell phone and began dialing. As it rung she hurriedly said to
Duncan
, “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re finally free of that woman. Don’t worry about a thing. Now that I know you won’t be hurt in the crossfire, I can let my lawyers loose on her. I’ve been waiting for this for ten long years.”
Duncan
felt dazed. Was it that easy? All he had to do was tell his grandmother the truth and all his marital problems evaporated? From her exuberant conversation with her lawyer, it was evident that Kerry had signed a contract giving up all claims to him and his family’s money in exchange for one lump sum ten years ago. He didn’t know if the contract would stand up in court, but he did know Kerry would not want to spend what cash she had on a fleet of lawyers to trial the case. She would quickly sign the papers and be gone as suddenly as she’d arrived. He’d be free.
Duncan
left the balcony and entered the apartment to give his grandmother some privacy to stage her attack. He wanted to talk to Jessie. Tell her that everything was okay. That he loved her, and that nothing could keep them apart if she would just forgive him for everything. He thought about just leaving and going to her, but things were still too unsettled here.
First, he needed to clarify what was going to happen with Theresa, and then he would go find Jessie. He wasn’t sure what his grandmother wanted to do about his sister, but since she hadn’t demanded outright that the girl be returned to Toronto, he thought there might be a good chance that she’d allow him to act as her guardian until Theresa turned eighteen next month. Then it would be up to Theresa where she lived. Despite the noise and inconvenience of having a teenager in the house, he desperately hoped she’d want to stay with him--at least until they had time to build some kind of relationship.
As for Jessie, now that he knew he was in love with her, and that he was free, he couldn’t wait to tell her. But would she care after everything that had happened?
Chapter
29
It took four blocks for Jessie to lose her nerve. She really wanted to sweep into
Duncan
’s apartment and help him through the confrontation with his grandmother, but it just wasn’t her. She could fantasize about being brave and bold, but when she imagined
Duncan
looking at her like she was an intruder, it completely deflated her. She found herself heading toward the park instead.
There she strolled and dawdled until it was too late to go back to work. She couldn’t go back there. Clay would just look at her with pity and try to make her feel better over being such a huge coward. She thought about looking for her sister, but knew she was just too vulnerable right now to face Jamie. Talking to her twin right now would inevitably lead to telling her sister everything and letting her decide for her what she should do. That had been the pattern most of her life, and she was tired of it. She wanted to make her own decisiosn, feel her own pain, and know that whatever happened, she was responsible for the outcome. She couldn’t do that if she continued to let Jamie run her life. But it was tempting. Jamie always seemed to know what to do.
When two hours had passed, Jessie headed for home. It was just too hot out to walk. She was going to force herself to phone
Duncan
. Actually let it ring through this time, and tell him she wanted to work things out. Wanted to love him and give him another chance. It wasn’t logical, not at all, but she knew in her heart that he was the one for her. Had known it for a long time, but had been too scared to believe it.
Walking into her small, but cheery apartment she set her keys and purse on the kitchen table and went over to the sink, where she splashed cold water on her heated face and wrists. She’d dressed that morning with the air-conditioned store in mind, not the furnace of her apartment. Unbuttoning the top button of her denim dress, she moved toward her bedroom to change into shorts. She paused in the entranceway, noticing that the sound from the street was muted. During hot summer evenings the traffic coming from
Robson Street
, and the noise from the two patioed Starbucks downstairs was quite loud, but she still left the screened windows open so the apartment wasn’t so stuffy when she got home. Had she closed them? It didn’t seem likely, but she had been distracted lately.
Trying to remember, she slowly walked toward her bedroom, undressing as she went. Four buttons of her denim dress were undone when she looked up and noticed that she wasn’t alone. Diego was lying comfortably on her bed, smiling wickedly, with his ankles crossed and a small pile of her lingerie on the comforter beside him. Jessie stopped, frozen in the doorway.
He had a wild, unfocused look about him that had not been there before. When he’d assaulted Jessie in the bookstore, he’d just looked angry, now he seemed like something hunted. His long hair was greasy and wild about his shoulders, and he looked desperate and unclean. Vaguely, Jessie noticed that his muddy boots had left dark streaks of something unpleasant on her pretty, blue counterpane.
“Please, continue,” he said with a chuckle, waving a hand at the flesh revealed by her open buttons.
Jessie didn’t think. She just reacted and backed quickly out of the room. She turned and ran for the front door, and just felt her fingertips graze the cool glass of her doorknob when Diego reached her and pulled her back against him.
“Did you think I was done with you?” He hissed, breathing into her hair, and wrapping the fingers of one hand tightly around both wrists. “I’ve been following you,
Cara.
Your police escort abandoned you days ago and now you’re mine.”
This was nothing like her sessions with Clay. She was paralyzed with shock, just like the last time. She couldn’t even scream. Tears sprang into her eyes and ran down her cheeks at her helplessness. He was too big, too strong. She couldn’t hurt him.
Diego buried his rubbery lips in her neck and Jessie wrenched away in disgust. “What’s the matter? Am I not as exciting as that stupid cop?” He asked, pulling her head back against his shoulder brutally. “Well, you’re not my first choice either. Maybe if you tell me where Theresa is, I’ll go find her instead,” he whispered, crudely running his free hand over her breasts and squeezing hard enough to make her cry out.
That was it. The threat against Theresa and the thought of what he might do next was enough to pull her out of her daze. She raised one foot and jammed it as hard as she could on Diego’s instep, just like Clay had shown her a hundred times.
Diego just chuckled, amused at her attempt to get away from him. Roughly he pushed her against the wall, and aligned their legs so she couldn’t kick back at him. “Oh, you’re going to fight, are you? I like that. Struggle some more. It’s always better when they fight.”
They? Jessie thought to herself. He’s done this before? She panicked and began screaming, She’d read somewhere that people had a tendency to ignore cries for help, and there was no way she was taking any chances, so she shouted “Fire” at the top of her lungs.
Diego cuffed her soundly across the back of the head. “Shut up, bitch,” he said, and placed his free hand over her mouth. The last thing she wanted was his filthy hand near her mouth. She shook her head from side to side, trying to avoid those dirt-encrusted fingernails. Diego shifted back, trying to avoid her flying hair. Her mind cleared enough for her to have an idea. Maybe not a good idea, but right now it was all she had.
She brought her head back as hard and fast as she could. Diego didn’t laugh this time. She connected solidly with his nose, and Jessie distinctly heard the crack of bone. Diego released her hands to stem the flow of blood from his face, but didn’t move away far enough to giver her the leverage she needed to kick back at him. Desperate, she did what had worked before. She lunged backward with her head again. Diego’s scream of pain was like a wounded animal’s cry. His hands had cushioned the blow, but it had still jarred his already injured nose. He pulled completely away from her, cursing and threatening her in Spanish.
Jessie didn’t even pause to look at him. She could feel his warm blood on the back of her shirt, and that was all the confirmation she needed that she’d injured him. She jerked open the door and ran into the hallway, Diego’s angry voice echoing behind her.
She didn’t stop to knock on doors, she just ran. All she could think about was putting as much distance as possible between her and Diego. She slammed into a heavy brown door at the end of her hallway that lead to the side stairs and scrambled down the gray concrete steps, almost slipping in her high-heeled boots. She could feel hot tears streaming down her face, and there were strange whimpering sounds escaping her throat. Unused to running, her breathing was labored, and she felt a cruelly throbbing stitch in her side, but she didn’t even consider stopping. She would run forever if necessary.