The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress (20 page)

Without another word, he left, leaving an astounded staff staring at him with their mouths hanging open as they watched their previously relentless boss pull his fiancée into his arms while the elevator doors closed on them. 

Rufus Catelano snickered as he took his daughter’s arm.  “You’re doing the right thing, Elana,” he said as he watched the two bridesmaids walk down the aisle.  “He’ll take good care of you.”

Elana smiled at her father, shaking her head softly.  “He’s a good man, Father.  I’m glad you finally approve of him.”

Rufus snorted
, the sound dismissing the possibility of his approval.  “He’s still a bastard, but at least you’re happy.”  He took a deep breath and straightened his jacket.  “Even though the man wasn’t really after you.”

Elana looked through the guests, her heart going out to the man standing at the front, looking magnificent in his dark suit.  “What are you talking about?” she asked, but she didn’t really care.  She loved this man because he was her father, but
she knew that he wasn’t very happy.  Ever since her mother had died, her father had been bitter which was why she’d stayed away from him as much as possible.  She didn’t want his bitterness in her life.  Before, she’d had enough of it because of Gaston’s betrayal.  And now, she was just too happy to let it affect her. 

“The man just wanted a damn book!” he grumbled.  “I blackmailed him into this wedding.”

Her startled eyes pulled back to her father, trying to figure out what he was saying.  “Blackmailed?” she asked, distracted despite her best efforts to remain focused on the wedding. 

Rufus shrugged his shoulders.  “He wanted a book.  I told him he couldn’t have it until he married you.”

Elana stared at her father, wondering why he was telling her this now.  Looking up, she caught Gaston’s eyes and her heart spun out of control once again.  She had no idea what her father was talking about, but she refused to let him spoil this day.  She’d been in Gaston’s arms for the past six days and nights, arriving back in town this morning, just in time to pull on the wedding dress she’d selected and arrive at the church.  “Father, if you think you got Gaston to this wedding by blackmail, I hate to disillusion you.  Gaston would never put himself into a position in which he could be manipulated.”  She looked up at Gaston’s handsome features once more and smiled.  “Unless he wanted to be manipulated,” she said softly, her heart filling with love for this man. 

Her father harrumphed once more.  “Little you know.  But it doesn’t matter.  You’re here.  He’s waiting for you.  Everything is fine and dandy.” 

Elana patted her father’s hands, but something occurred to her.  She stilled and looked down at him curiously.  “Are you the one who showed Gaston the picture of Richard and me hugging seven years ago?”

Rufus looked away and instantly, she knew the answer.  He wouldn’t admit it, at least not to her.  But she knew.  “Shame on you, Father,” she said with a lilting laugh.  “But it didn’t work, did it?”

Rufus looked at his daughter with renewed respect.  “No.  It apparently didn’t work.”  He was still for a moment longer before he said, “You really love him, don’t you?”

Her smile widened and she couldn’t pull her eyes away from Gaston’s dark, intense gaze.  “Yes.  I really love him.” 
She laughed softly and shivered.  “And he really loves me.”  Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, leading her father down the aisle towards the most amazing man she’d ever met in her life.  “And if you think that you did something to him, then you’re not as smart as I thought, Father.  But I’m really glad that Gaston allowed you to blackmail him.  It turned out perfectly.”

She didn’t remember walking down the aisle.  But suddenly, she was standing in front of Gaston, her hand leaving her father’s and moving to Gaston’s strong, warm embrace.  “So what’s this about a book and some blackmail?” she said with a soft smile as she gazed up at her husband-to-be. 

Gaston looked down at her and shook his head.  “Something our fathers concocted I suppose.  I have no idea.”

“So you still don’t have this fantasy book?”

Gaston looked down at his father, sitting in a wheelchair and an oxygen tank by his side helping him breathe.  “I don’t think my father even knows what’s in the damn book,” he replied, ignoring the priest who was waiting impatiently to start the wedding.  “My father thought it was important to get us together.  So it happened.  I’ve now inherited the ridiculous thing, just to make you mine.”

Elana giggled and stepped closer.  “You’re a very mysterious man, Gaston Montebello.”

He squeezed her fingers slightly.  “I wish you’d be quiet so you could become Elana Montebello,” he replied, then lifted her hands to kiss them gently. 

“As you wish,” she laughed,
then turned to face the priest, eager to marry the man she thought she’d hated for so long. 

Elana waddled past the office then stopped and came back, her eyes gentling as she saw her husband behind his huge desk.  Actually, it wasn’t her husband that had caught her eye as much as her two year old son in her husband’s lap.  Her hand absently strayed to her stomach as she listened to the two of them speak in Spanish, her heart melting at how perfectly they looked together.  Gaston and her son, Carlos, were almost identical except for their size.  Every feature on her son’s adorable face looked like his father’s, right down to the identical glare when they became angry about something.  She laughed sometimes at how similar the two were.

“Are you going to join us?  Or just stare at us from the doorway?” Gaston asked.

Elana laughed, winking at her son’s mischievous smile.  “I suppose I could come in and take a break,” she said and waddled into the office.  She settled her large body down into one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of her husband’s desk.  “What are you two working on?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” Gaston demanded, his eyes noticing the fatigue in her eyes and around her mouth.  “Did you have lunch?”

Elana didn’t become irritated by his question since she still forgot to eat sometimes.  “I had a sandwich and fruit about an hour ago,” she assured him.  “And a large glass of milk,” she said, reassuring Carlos who worried that his baby sister wasn’t drinking milk yet so he wanted his mother to do it for her.

She saw his shoulders relax slightly and smiled at them.  “What are you two working on?” she asked.

Carlos sat up proudly and grinned from ear to ear.  “Daddy is showing me pictures of your wedding day!” he announced proudly.  “You look very beautiful, Momma.”

Elana looked curiously at the book open on the desk.  “Wedding pictures?” she asked, craning her neck to see herself.

Gaston lifted the heavy, old book and showed her what they were perusing.  “I was showing him all the pictures,” he explained.

“Ah.
  The diabolical, inherited book that seems to transfix each generation,” she replied and relaxed back into her chair.  “I was wondering what had come of that book.  My father said he’d almost burned it a few times just out of spite.”

Gaston shrugged.  “It
’s just wedding pictures of previous generations.  They aren’t replaceable, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if they’d disappeared.”

Elana didn’t understand.  “So why did your father want the book back so desperately?”

Gaston sighed. “I don’t think he cared about the book.  He just didn’t want your father to hold it over his head any longer.  They’d hated each other for so long.”

“Why?”

Gaston raised an eyebrow.  “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Carlos leaned back against his father’s broad chest and relaxed.  “Because Gramma was Peppe’s girlfriend before she met Granpa.”

Elana had to translate that.  “You mean my father was dating your mother before your father stole her away?”

Gaston waved to the book as evidence.  “Apparently, that’s the case.  It’s all in a newspaper clipping here in front of their wedding pictures.  There was some huge brawl between the two of them at a bar one night.  My mother was forced to choose between the two of them and she chose my dad.”

“Ah,” Elana replied after a stunned moment. “Well that answers several questions.”  At first, Elana couldn’t believe that her father could be so vindictive as to hold a grudge over a lost love for so many years.  But as she stared at her husband, the man that made her love him more every day, she knew that she might have become a bitter, lonely old woman if this book hadn’t been in existence.  “Well, I guess I’m happy about the way things turned out.”

Gaston raised an eyebrow at her reply.  “You guess?” he demanded.

Elana laughed softly, shaking her head.  “Okay, I’m elated.  I’d really hate to be your sister instead of yo
ur wife.”

“Me too,” Carlos piped up, but his eyes were getting sleepy as his nap time approached. 

“I’m pretty glad about the turn of events myself,” Gaston said quietly, looking across his wide desk, his eyes promising to show her just how happy he was once their son went down for his nap in a few moments. 

Elana blushed, but she smiled as well, eager for their hour or so of alone time.  “Everything always works out, doesn’t it?”

“Dad, I just don’t think…” Rachel Stuart started to say.

Her father gently interrupted her before she could come up with an excuse.  “Don’t say you don’t have the time.  I guarantee you won’t regret this.” 

Rachel bit her lip, wondering how she could say no to her father.  She knew he was lonely, but…

“He’s not here, honey.”  John Stuart said the words softly, but her heart ached that her father knew. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath as the pain of her last visit to the farm swept through her.  She slowly let the air out of her lungs and straightened her shoulders, not willing to reveal too much even to her father.  “I don’t care if he’s there or not Dad.  This has nothing to…”

“Rach’, don’t even try it.”  He softly interrupted her comment, knowing where this conversation would go if he allowed it.  “Your old Dad knows what’s going on and I feel for you.  Rais isn’t scheduled to arrive until late tomorrow afternoon.  So if you don’t come out tonight, then you’re not going to be able to see these beauties for another month and I know you’re gonna love these guys.”

‘Beauties’?  Did that mean that new horses had arrived on the farm?  He knew he’d piqued her interest with that comment and she hesitated only briefly because if there was one thing in this world she loved besides her father it was horses.  And she was relieved that the man in question wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the following day.  “What is it?” she asked, trying to hide her curiosity but failing because whatever her father was calling about had to be big. 

His relieved laughter flowed through the phone lines, knowing that he’d gotten her with those words.  If there was one thing Rachel hated it was to not know a secret.  He tormented her with Christmas and birthday presents, and any surprises he could think of throughout the year just to tease her.  “Come out for dinner tonight and you’ll see.”  He waited a moment before he said, “I’ll make you macaroni and cheese,” he said with a hopeful tone.

He’d hit her weak point, damn him.  She closed her eyes, her hand gripping her cell phone as if she could find strength.  “With the gorgonzola cheese?” she whispered.

“You bet,” he laughed again, knowing that she was caught now.  “I’ll see you at six o’clock.  Don’t be late or I start eating it myself.”

She groaned and shook her head. “Fine.  I’ll be there.”  He knew exactly how to lure her home for a visit.  His macaroni and cheese was the best with gorgonzola cheese and chives.  The man didn’t stop there.  He added secret ingredients he wouldn’t even give her a hint about so that she couldn’t figure out how to make it herself.  She’d tried, just so she didn’t have to risk running into the man in question, but she hadn’t come close and he was using that as her compensation for the risk involved in coming home. 

After disconnecting, she stared at her computer screen, her eyes not really seeing anything.  Her father knew, she thought with resignation and more than a little embarrassment.  He wasn’t a stupid man,
so it was ridiculous of her to think that he hadn’t noticed her reaction to the man over the years.  But it would have been nice if it had just been her secret. 

With resignation and embarrassment, she accepted that there were just some things a daughter couldn’t hide from her dad. 

Three hours later, she shut down her laptop and packed up her office, forcing a smile as she walked out of the building so her co-workers didn’t know she felt like she was facing a death squad.  She usually timed these things better but she’d already committed to the visit.  Coming out tonight was cutting things a bit closer than she preferred. 

It took her two hours with heavy traffic because she worked in downtown Washington, D.C. and her father lived out west of the city.  It felt as if everyone and their brother were heading out west along Interstate 66 so there were long periods when she was crawling in traffic, and those were the good moments.  There were other times when she just sat there, the autumn sunshine beating through her window while traffic came to a standstill.  This was why she used public transportation, she thought with frustration as she pulled her jacket off during one of the many sitting spells.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t any way to get all the way out to the farm on public transit so she had to drive herself, inching along in rush hour traffic.