Pirate's Gold (8 page)

“Another man hurt you!” he accused, refusing to believe her lie. His body had become rigid, his eyes accusing. “A man whom you loved very much!”

“It's over,” she snapped back. Her entire body was shaking from the ordeal. Why, tonight, was she reminded of Brandon?

“You still love him.” He waited for her denial, silently counting the condemning seconds as they passed. When the silence remained unbroken, he turned on his heel and walked to the car.

Her hands came up to cross over her breasts as if to ward off a sudden chill, but her head remained regally high. She watched him leave and ignored the urge to call out to him and tell him her deepest secrets. Those silent thoughts were better left unspoken.

S
LEEP WAS ELUSIVE
and the night stretched endlessly before her. As she lay in the darkness on her bed, she tried to rest, but painful memories made her restless. Kyle's image with its dark brooding gray eyes couldn't be erased. Nor could she forget the warm feel of his fingers when they caressed her skin. Her response to him had surprised her; she had thought her desire had been buried so deeply it would never resurface.

Haunting memories of another man destroyed her warm thoughts of Kyle. Trapped in her mind were painful thoughts of Brandon, a man to whom she was hopelessly bound. She wondered if she would ever be free of him. She doubted it.

The nightmares of Brandon disturbed what little sleep she managed to find. It had been three years since the divorce was final, but she still bore the scars from her passionate but brief marriage. It had ended because Brandon was a man who couldn't abide the restrictions of a monogamous relationship, and Maren couldn't bear the torment of wondering who was warming her husband's bed. She had hoped that the divorce would release her from him. It hadn't. Theirs was a relationship that couldn't be broken easily, and even though they both knew it to be a mistake, they had once considered reconciliation.

It had been that weekend at Heavenly Valley that had altered the course of Maren's life. Brandon was a natural athlete and had been showing off on the slopes, attempting to race down the most dangerous runs at breakneck speeds. Maren's insides had twisted as she watched him put tougher demands upon his body. He ignored the fact that he was obviously tired and pushed himself to the limit. His last chilling run had ended in tragedy. The fall should have killed him, but it didn't. Maren had witnessed his loss of control of the skis and the jump that had ended in a body-wrenching dive against the packed snow and ice. Her strangled screams had brought the rescue team to Brandon's side within minutes. Somehow he had managed to survive, though he only recovered partial use of his legs.

Maren shuddered at the memory and pulled the blankets more tightly around her neck. She could remember the emergency room of the stark hospital and the fear that had gripped her in its cold grasp when she had first understood that Brandon might never walk again. The doctors had been grim, but persistent. If it hadn't been for a succession of expensive operations, Brandon would still be confined to a wheelchair. As it was, he could now walk painfully with the aid of a brace. In time, the orthopedists were predicting, he could recover, if he could somehow manage to get over the emotional trauma of the accident. Brandon had not only lost his ability to walk in that terrifying leap, he had also lost his career as a tennis pro and his self-esteem as a man.

As the first golden streaks of dawn began to lighten her room, she thought about Kyle's vicious accusation. Could he have possibly been right? Did some small part of her still love Brandon? Could she still love a man who had thought so little of her while they had been married? She had quit asking herself that question after the divorce had become final, and she had vowed to forget both him and his endless affairs with younger women. But that had been before the skiing accident at Heavenly Valley, and before Brandon had become financially dependent upon her.

She shook her head, turning it slowly against the pillow, hoping to dislodge her unpleasant thoughts. The past was dead and gone. Her love for Brandon had withered years ago, but regardless of the fact that she no longer loved him, she couldn't turn her back on him; not yet, not while he still needed her. She was the only scrap of family he had, and if she had to imprison herself to give him the emotional security he needed, so be it.

Though it was barely six in the morning, Maren dragged herself out of bed and headed for the shower. Rather than concentrating on problems she couldn't begin to solve, she would push herself ever deeper into her work. She had to make things work for her, and she had to seriously consider all the ramifications of Kyle Sterling's offer. Just at the thought of him, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

She let the bathrobe slide to the floor and stepped into the hot shower, lounging under the soothing spray. She tried to think of anything other than Brandon and the guilt she carried because of him. How many times had she attempted to convince herself that his accident wasn't her fault? And how many times was she left with the same condemning conclusion: If it hadn't been for Maren, Brandon would never have gone to Heavenly Valley. It had been her suggestion that they spend the day on the snow-laden slopes; he had only complied, and in so doing, ruined the rest of his life.

“Stop it!” she told herself fiercely. “You can't blame yourself!” She plunged her head under the spray and let the water run over her. Her wayward thoughts turned to Kyle Sterling and without realizing it, Maren began to smile. Kyle was such a puzzling man; so unique.

While lathering her shoulders, she reflected on the events of the previous evening. Despite the fact that it had turned sour, last night had been the single most inspiring evening she had spent in years, and the man she had shared it with was more fascinating than she could have ever guessed. His intrigue was more than the fact that he was a wealthy man with a colorful and famous past. It was his energy, his sensuality, his gentle touch, that had captured her. The quiet sound of his low laughter had entrapped her in its honesty. She knew intuitively that he was a man who didn't laugh often, and that knowledge made the short time she had spent with him all the more endearing.

She had just reached for a towel when her thoughts turned dark. Kyle had sought her out only because he wanted Festival Productions, and very badly. His primary motive in seeing her was to try and force her into a position to sell Festival to him. There was also the pirating scheme to consider. Kyle had been trying to ferret out information from her, and though he said he was satisfied, he seemed a little uneasy about it. Could he really suspect someone, at Festival, or was he merely being cautious because of the fact that he intended to purchase the company at whatever the cost? She shook her head and water from her hair beaded against the sides of the shower stall. No, if he had really been suspicious, he would never have made the offer. Then again, he hadn't signed the contracts, had he?

The full impact of her thoughts hit her with the force of a slap in the face. She slumped against the wet tile when she realized that she had left her briefcase, with the contracts, in Kyle's car. In her fumbling efforts to dissolve the growing intimacy between them, Maren had hurried out of the car with her purse, forgetting the briefcase and the valuable contracts therein. Maren rolled her eyes skyward. This wasn't like her, not at all. She usually wasn't a bundle of nerves with a man, nor was she forgetful. But Kyle Sterling wasn't just any man, and his image continued to play havoc with her reason. If she had indeed left the contracts with him, it wasn't the end of the world, but it would certainly make her seem irresponsible, and that was the last impression she wanted to leave with Kyle Sterling.

Disgusted with herself, Maren scrambled into her bathrobe and raced through the small apartment, leaving a wet trail on the carpet as she confirmed with her eyes what she had mentally discovered. Her briefcase was missing. It wasn't in the closet, nor under the hall tree, nor near the foot of the bed, nor tossed recklessly on the kitchen table. After checking the usual spots, she began to search the obscure ones. It was gone. Muttering an oath at her own carelessness, she dialed the offices of Sterling Recording Company and was politely informed by a prerecorded message that the normal business hours for the company did not begin until eight o'clock.

She began to dry her hair, going through the motions without bothering to check her reflection in the steamy mirror. Several minutes later, when the condensation from the shower had disappeared and she looked directly into the blue eyes of her mirror image, she questioned her motives. Had she left the briefcase in Kyle's car with a purpose? Subliminally, she might have created a convenient excuse to see him again. But she didn't need an excuse, she argued with herself. Kyle had made it crystal clear that he wanted to see her again. All she had to do was summon the courage to call him. If she wasn't able to do that much, she would certainly see him soon regarding the buyout…if there was going to be one.

She considered calling him in the time it took to dress and drive from the apartment to the office, but she decided to wait until Sterling Recording Company had opened its doors. She didn't want to appear too anxious by tracking him down. She needed to find out that he had the contracts, but certainly it could wait until he had made it in to his office.

As was usual, Maren was the first employee of Festival Productions to arrive. It was the bookkeeper's day off, and the production crew was on location. For the past few weeks Jan had been arriving at the office late in the morning. Jan was always apologetic and managed to get her work done, so Maren didn't force the issue. Maren had come to suspect that Jan was having trouble with Jacob again.

It was well after nine when Jan finally got to the office. Maren had already begun working on the layout for the first song on the Mirage album. She had listened to the song “Yesterday's Heart” until she could sing the lyrics along with the band. Over the sound of the sultry music, Maren heard Jan arrive.

For a moment she tried to continue working, but couldn't. She sighed as she took off her reading glasses and got up from the drafting table in the corner of her office. After she switched off the tape player, she walked slowly into the reception area.

Jan was already at her desk and the meticulous mask of makeup couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes or the pallor of her skin. Maren poured Jan a cup of black coffee, which the blond woman accepted gratefully. Jan took an experimental sip, grimaced and blanched.

“Bad night last night?” Maren asked cautiously as Jan lit a cigarette with unsteady hands.

The secretary managed a weak smile and set the coffee aside. “Not the best,” she admitted. “But I did manage to finish all of this correspondence.” She blew out a thin stream of blue smoke before handing Maren a sheaf of typewritten pages. Maren could see in one quick glance that the papers were letter-perfect.

“You don't have to work after hours,” Maren offered, sitting on a corner of Jan's cluttered desk.

“I know. But I've been getting in later and later…and…well, I feel guilty about it.”

“You shouldn't.”

“It's not your fault that I can't seem to get my act together.” She avoided Maren's probing gaze and picked up the steaming coffee. Uncomfortably she stared into the black brew.

“Jan, is something wrong?” Maren asked gently.

Jan froze before stubbing out her cigarette and quickly lighting a replacement. She had to blink back her tears as she inhaled deeply on the cigarette. “Nothing really,” she replied.

Maren didn't move. “You're sure?”

Jan nodded, afraid to trust her voice.

Knowing she was getting nowhere, Maren patiently waited. She cared too much about Jan to see her become a shell of her former self because of a contemptible man like Jacob Green. “Would you like to take your vacation early this year?”

“Look, I'm all right.
Really!
” Jan snapped angrily.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.” Maren got up from the corner of the desk, straightened her skirt and started toward the door leading to her office.

“Maren…wait,” Jan called. Maren turned to face her friend. Jan looked miserable. “I'm sorry,” the secretary whispered. “I don't know what's gotten into me…no, that's a lie. I do know.”

“You don't have to talk about it.”

“Maybe I should,” Jan murmured. “At least I owe you an explanation as to why I've been getting in late…” Maren leaned against the doorjamb. She didn't really want to hear about Jan's personal problems, but she needed to help her friend, if she could.

“I trust you, Jan. If you get in late, I know you've got a good reason.”

Jan seemed to wince under Maren's kind words. Tears threatened to spill from her large brown eyes. “Look, I'm a little upset, that's all.” She breathed deeply. “We had another fight last night.”

“You and Jacob?”

“Right.” Jan nodded and pursed her white lips together. For a moment Maren thought she would break down, but Jan squared her shoulders and bravely fought against the tears.

“I take it that it was bad.”

“Are there any good ones?”

Maren frowned into her empty coffee cup. “No, I guess not. But some are worse than others.”

“It sounds like you've been there.”

A wistful smile formed on Maren's full lips. “I've got a few scars,” she conceded. “Anyone who's managed to reach the age of thirty-three has seen her share of battles.”

“So, are you here offering advice?” Jan asked with just a hint of sarcasm.

“I don't know if I'm qualified to give it. Do you want to hear my opinion?”

“I don't know what I want…not anymore,” Jan sighed. “You see, there's more to it than just a simple fight.” Maren waited, watching grimly as she witnessed the tortured play of emotions distorting Jan's usually cheery features. Her admission came slowly. “I think I'm pregnant.”