Secrets (12 page)

His lips curved slightly. “A hangover from childhood.”

She instantly imagined Slade as a child. He would have been beautiful as a boy, almost pretty. She imagined he would have been the kind of boy to always be in trouble. “She's been here since you were a child?”

“Since I was born.” He hesitated, the smile gone. “She raised me. Me and James.”

Regina hesitated, too. She could only assume that the boys' mother had died. “I'm sorry.”

He regarded her. “For what?”

“That you did not have your mother to raise you.”

“Don't be.” He waved indifferently. “She was a tramp.”

Regina gasped. “Slade!”

His expression was set in stone. “She didn't die, which is what I can see you're thinking. She ran off, abandoning me, leaving Rick. She was a selfish, dishonorable woman.”

Regina was so shocked she could not speak for a moment, although she certainly agreed with his assessment of his mother. And her heart broke for him. How could a mother abandon her own child? “How…how old were you?”

“Three months.”

She almost cried. “And James?”

“You don't understand. James and I are—were—half-brothers. His mother died birthing him. But that put us both in the same boat, with Jojo. She was plenty of mother to us both.” Then he smiled unexpectedly. “She's still not afraid to box my ears.”

Regina smiled, too, but tears still lurked close to the surface. She had the urge to take Slade in her arms as if he were still a child, to comfort him in a motherly way. Yet he was no small boy to be mothered by her, and she folded her hands in her lap.

“You're not eating,” he remarked.

“I'm not very hungry.”

He hesitated. “You want to take a drive? Maybe down to the bathhouse in Paso Robles?”

She was still. If she did not know better, she would think that this man was courting her. Of course, that was impossible. She had been engaged to his brother. Not only had she been engaged to James, yesterday Slade had wanted her to leave his home, and he had been adamant about it. “That might be nice,” she said slowly. Then: “You aren't angry with me?”

“Why would-I be angry with you?” he asked. His attempted smile fell strangely flat. There was a vast difference between his expression now and the genuine
smile he had shown her earlier. Slade had no facades.

“Because I didn't leave yesterday.” Regina trembled. “Yesterday you wanted me to leave.”

“Yesterday's not today.” He hesitated. “Yesterday what had happened between us was too fresh.” His eyes swerved to hers, collided with hers.

She was remembering exactly what he was obviously remembering, being half-naked, clad in his shirt, and in his arms. Too clearly, she could feel the thick web of desire that had ensnared them that night, as if it were ensnaring them again. And in fact, it was. Her own body told her that, as did the look in his eyes.

She swallowed hard. Her smile was too brilliant, her tone overly light. “You are forever my rescuer. Do you make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress?” She wanted to change the dangerous direction that both of their thoughts had too quickly veered in. She was almost certain that his reference was deliberate, that he wanted her to remember every detail of that night.

“You know I don't.” He would not buy into her casual flirtation. “Only you. It's only you I seem to be rescuing.” His eyes darkened.

Regina managed to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat. “You
are
angry,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “You would prefer that I leave.”

He denied it with a shake of his head, but he refused to meet her glance. “I didn't like the idea of you traveling alone, or being alone at the hotel, from the start. I still don't like it.”

Regina picked up her fork. She kept her expression carefully blank to hide her uncertainty. Her heart wanted to leap and embrace his words, but she did not quite believe him. “I am going to stay for a while,” she said, spearing a piece of bacon, also avoiding his gaze. “I need to rest after the train robbery and my foolish attempt to walk to town.”

“Good.” Again he hesitated. His gaze slid to the table, over it, and up one wall. Anywhere but at her. His jaw was tight. “I want you to stay.”

Regina froze.

Cautiously he looked at her.

His words were too good to be true. And he failed to look her in the eye. In the precise instant that she realized he was manipulating her, for whatever reason, her pleasure crashed. It crashed hard at her feet, the way a pine tree might when felled with a logger's lethal axe. It crashed so hard it left her robbed of her breath.

He had been about to touch her hand. Seeing her expression, he withdrew it.

“What are you doing? Why are you saying something you don't mean?”

He gripped the table hard. He didn't raise his head. “I do mean it, dammit.”

The hurt that stabbed her was intense. She should have known that he was being less than honest. It was certainly obvious now that he was not being honest. He could not even look at her. She sprang to her feet.

“Elizabeth…”

She cut off his protest. “You must think me a fool!”

“I don't think you're a fool.” He was standing, too.

“You are a very poor liar.”

His face was a mask, except for his intense eyes. “I do want you to stay,” he managed.

“For a moment I believed you,” Regina quavered. “For a moment I thought you didn't mind my staying, that you had a change of heart. That since the other night you…liked me.”

“I do have a change of heart,” he said grimly. “I do…like you.”

“Somehow I don't think so!” Regina cried. Her anger rose hotly, saving her. “Was this some kind of a game? An amusement, perhaps? To toy with me and my feelings? Or do you want my inheritance now, too? Is that what this is all about? Are you going to offer me marriage now?”

“Dammit,” Slade said angrily. “Dammit!”

Furious, Regina whirled. But Slade was very fast. He caught her by the shoulder before she had left the room, spinning her around to face him. He appeared desperate. “This isn't a game. You're mistaken. Look,
Elizabeth, we can be friends. We
are
friends. That's all. I thought about it and realized that—”

“We are not friends! You wouldn't know the meaning of the word
friendship
if a dictionary were open and staring you in the face!” Regina cried. “Friends don't deceive one another! Friends don't lie to one another! You're lying to my face and doing a blasted poor job of it!”

“Elizabeth…”

“No!” she cried furiously. “Don't say another bloody word!” She turned, realizing she was crying, and rushed into the courtyard.

What a fool she was for staying after all. She was much too vulnerable as far as Slade was concerned, and she was frightened to realize it. She was halfway across the courtyard when she realized he was following her. Frantically she broke into a run. So did he. Regina wrenched open the doors to her room and turned to slam them shut. Slade barged through them. Accidentally Regina was flung backward and onto the floor.

The floor was oak, but the homespun rug there broke her fall, preventing it from being worse. She landed on her backside and, after the fall from the horse, it hurt. For a moment she lay still on her back, nearly stunned. Then she became aware of him kneeling beside her on one knee, the other almost level with her eyes. There was a rent in the denim fabric there.

His hands closed on her shoulders. “Jesus! Are you all right?”

“Don't touch me,” she whispered. His thighs filled the legs of his pants completely. He wasn't an overly large man, but he was all muscle and so much bigger than she herself. Using her hands, she skidded back a few inches on her fanny, putting a safer distance between them.

He didn't move. When she lifted her gaze he was regarding her with blazing eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I apologize. I'm sorry.”

He meant it. She saw it, heard it. “What are you sorry for, Slade?”

“For barging in, for knocking you down like I did.
For everything
. I don't want to hurt you, Elizabeth.”

She didn't move. His regard held here. His palms still gripped her shoulders. She tried to fathom if his last words meant what she thought they did—what she hoped they did—that he had not meant to hurt her feelings the way that he had.

He looked her grimly in the eye. “The one thing I'm not is a damn liar.” He winced. “Sorry. I haven't known too many ladies. Ladies like you, anyway.”

The time his compliment was inadvertent but so genuine she was moved to tears. “That's all right,” she said softly. “I don't understand.”

“I should have never listened to Rick. I've never courted a woman before, it just isn't in me.”

“Courted a woman?”

“I was trying to court you.” He looked at the floor. “It was a stupid idea.”

The thought of him courting her might have been thrilling, given different circumstances; it could not be pleasing now. Her tears welled uncontrollably. For she knew that his courtship had nothing to do with love. She covered her face with her hands.

“Don't cry,” he whispered, agonized. “I'm sorry. I am.”

She shook her head. “I'm not really crying.” But all she could think of was that his courtship had everything to do with her inheritance and nothing to do with his feelings for her. His flattery must have been a lie, too. She was crushed.

He lifted her to her feet as she wiped her eyes. His hands were warm and strong, inexplicably offering comfort. She pushed them away. “Let's talk,” he said, watching her.

“About why you were courting me?”

“Yeah.”

Regina stared at his somber expression, her vision still misty. “I already know. It has to do with the marriage Rick wants, doesn't it? You've agreed. Somehow he talked you into it.”

Slade's posture became defiant. “He didn't talk me into anything,” he said shortly. “I'm used to Rick. He might be able to sweet-talk you, but not me.”

Regina did not bother to dispute him. “Why would you court me if not with marriage in mind?”

“I didn't say that,” he said grimly. “Marriage is on my mind. Do you…would you…want to get married?”

She stared. Never had she seen such determination in a man's eyes before—yet desperation lurked right beneath the surface. She supposed that she had just received a marriage proposal, as offhand and awkward as it was, from the most handsome, virile man she had surely ever met. But it was not made out of love, or out of any honorable intention whatsoever. Tears crept back into her eyes. Her emotions were dangerously overwrought. Before this moment, she might have said yes. No more. “No.”

He was very still. There was no expression on his face. A long silence ensued. Regina wished he would leave—so she could cry—and pack.

“I figured you'd say that,” he finally said. “Even Miramar can't entice you into saying yes.”

It was a flat statement. Her fists clenched. She wanted to shout at him that Miramar was not on her mind, and that he could induce her easily enough if he wanted to, if he would only try, if he would only care, just a little, but she did not. She was not going to be a fool, she was not. This man offered her nothing but pain. She wanted love.

“I want you to listen to me.” He paced toward her.

Regina shook her head. “No. Don't bother. There's nothing you can say to change my mind.”

Yet she did not move, and he did not cease coming. Her heart hammered impossibly hard. He wasn't through and she knew it. A part of her had to hear him out. That foolish, hopeless part of her. He didn't stop until he stood directly in front of her, so close that she could easily touch his cheek if she dared. His warm, strong hands closed on her tense shoulders. “You would be mistress of all of this,” he said, his voice uneven.

She wished desperately that he would move away. This close, his magnetism was just too dangerous. “And you would have my money.” Her voice was even less steady than his.

“Not me. Not me personally. I need your inheritance to save Miramar. We're bankrupt, Elizabeth, and if we don't make our back payments soon, the bank is going to take Miramar away from us.”

Regina gasped. “Is that the truth?” But even as she asked, she saw the fierce determination in his eyes, the desperation, and she knew that it was. And maybe it was then that she knew, too, that her fate was sealed.

“It's the truth,” he said harshly. But his eyes glowed. “But have you ever seen a place like this, ever?” He shook her once for emphasis. “Have you ever seen mountains so breathtaking? Where else can you go and look one way, out across the infinite ocean, and the other way, down into a sweet-smelling valley? Have you ever seen skies like this—skies that are so blue they're almost the purple of irises? Have you gone down to the beach yet? I'll take you,” he said, not waiting for her to answer. “There were whales playing out at the point this morning. Have you ever seen a mama whale playing with her one-ton pup?”

Tears were slowly falling from Regina's eyes. Slade wasn't hard. He wasn't hard at all. He was a romantic. He was in love with Miramar, and maybe, just maybe, she was in love with him. “N-never.”

“I can't let all of this go,” he said, gripping her hands. His eyes were bright and midnight-blue. “I can't, I won't. Can you understand that? Dammit, Elizabeth, I'm sorry I didn't just come right out and be honest with you from the first. I wanted to. I really did. Rick pushed me into the god-awful idea of courting you.” He winced, closing his eyes briefly. “I knew I couldn't do it.”

Tears slipped down Regina's cheeks. Whisper-soft, she said, “You could do it, Slade. You
are
doing it.”