The Delacourt Scandal (3 page)

In fact, he’d looked so down, so totally alone, that she’d almost felt sorry for him. If he had been anyone other than a Delacourt, she wouldn’t have let him get away without convincing him to spill his guts. Since he
was
a Delacourt, she had known she had to proceed with caution, not scare him off with her limitless curiosity.

She flipped open her cell phone and called Griffin Carpenter, as promised.

“I made contact tonight,” she told him.

“With Delacourt?”

“No, with his son, Tyler. There’s something going on with him.”

“We’re looking for something on Bryce, not his son.”

“But if I can get Tyler to open up, to trust me enough to confide in me, I’m in. He’ll pave the way with the rest of the family.”

“That’s your angle?” Griffin asked worriedly. “Maddie, watch yourself. Tyler’s got a reputation with women. At least, he did before he started spending so much time out of town, working on that rig over in Louisiana. Forget about Tyler. Why not get a job at the company, something that’ll give you access to their files?”

She wasn’t about to explain that any, even the most superficial, background check by Delacourt Oil’s personnel office would reveal her link to a man who’d once been fired. They’d never hire her.

“I like my way better. I can handle Tyler,” she assured her boss. “I’ll be in touch.”

She put the cell phone back in her purse and thought about the man who’d just left. Thank heaven he wasn’t her type. With his blond hair, dimpled smile and muscled build, he was too good-looking by far, too used to having women swoon at the sight of him, no doubt.

When she’d first seen him a few nights ago, she had been surprised by his preference for jeans and chambray shirts, rather than fancy suits; for sturdy work boots, rather than expensive cowboy boots. He’d told her he worked on an oil rig, and he certainly looked as if he could handle hard work. In fact, she could imagine him out on a rig in the blazing sun, his chest bare, muscles rippling. The unexpected image left her mouth surprisingly dry.

Where had that come from? she wondered, not one bit pleased by the reaction.

“You need another drink?” the bartender asked.

Maddie nodded. When the ginger ale came, she drank it down in one long gulp, but it didn’t seem to do much for her parched throat. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

Repeat after me, she instructed herself. Tyler Delacourt is the son of the man who destroyed your father. Therefore, Tyler Delacourt is a despicable toad. Tyler Delacourt is pond scum.

Tyler Delacourt is the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

Maddie moaned at the traitorous thought. This assignment had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. Maybe she would be better off trying to slide her credentials past personnel and accepting some
bland, innocuous job taking dictation at Delacourt Oil.

With a shudder she dismissed the idea. Tyler Delacourt was vulnerable. She had seen it in his bleak expression. Her hormones had never been a problem before. She could certainly keep them in check now. She was too close to her goal to let anything—least of all a handsome Delacourt—get in her way.

T
yler avoided O’Reilly’s—and the very disconcerting Maddie—for the next few nights. In fact, he pretty much stayed in his apartment for a solid week, sorting through the options he had for the rest of his life. He ignored the phone, letting his answering machine take messages, most of which were from his increasingly impatient father. There was no getting away from the fact that the time had come to make a decision, and no matter which one he made, there was going to be hell to pay.

When he got a call from Daniel Corrigan, supervisor of operations on the rig and Tyler’s boss, Tyler thought about ignoring it, too, but something in Daniel’s voice as he left a curt message told him that he shouldn’t. He snatched up the phone just as the older man was about to hang up.

“Daniel, what’s up?”

“Good. You’re there. Now the question is, when are you coming back here?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“That’s what I want to know. I had a call from your father this morning telling me not to expect you back. I wanted to hear it from you before I filled the position. I told him that, too. I figured if you’d decided to quit, you owed it to me to call yourself.” He hesitated then added wryly, “It also occurred to me that you might not know about it.”

It looked as if the matter was about to be snatched out of Tyler’s hands, unless he took some decisive action. He muttered a harsh expletive under his breath, then assured Daniel, “I’ll take care of it.”

“That’s not really answering my question now, is it, Tyler?”

“Look, I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle on this. I’m trying to work it out. For now, though, don’t fill that job, not until you hear from me.”

“Anything I can do to help, like reminding you that you’re the best man I’ve got on the job over here?”

Tyler couldn’t help being pleased by the compliment. Daniel Corrigan was an incredibly demanding man, one of the best the company had, Tyler’s father conceded, even though there was some bad blood between the two men.

Daniel had been with Delacourt Oil for most of his life. He was loyal to the company, but even more fiercely loyal to the men who risked their lives working the rigs. He’d tried a desk job briefly nearly thirty years earlier, but by grudging mutual agreement with
Bryce Delacourt, he’d gone back to working the rigs. Bryce had never entirely forgiven Daniel for abandoning the corporate role he’d been offered. Tyler assumed that was the main source of the friction between them.

In addition, it was evident that his father didn’t much like the bond that had formed years earlier between Daniel and Tyler. The older man had taken Tyler under his wing when he’d first expressed an interest in learning the business literally from the ground up. Even though Bryce was no longer in any position to spend time in the oil fields with a curious young boy, he’d been resentful of turning the task over to another man. Stubborn, even as a kid, and sure of his own interests, Tyler had had to badger him into it.

Now, when Tyler didn’t respond, Daniel sighed heavily. “I suppose this is none of my business, but is this mood you’re obviously in really about work?”

“Of course it is,” Tyler insisted, guessing where his boss might be headed.

“You sure of that? Or is it about Jen? I know that accident tore you up inside. You’ve been brooding about it for months now. Have you even told your family what happened?”

Tyler regretted ever telling his boss about Jen, but at the time he’d felt he had no choice. He’d had to give Daniel a way to reach him if he was unexpectedly needed on the rig. As a result Daniel had been the one who’d come into Baton Rouge personally to deliver the news when Tyler’s father had suffered a heart attack a year ago. He’d also been the one to break the news about the accident. The police had
found Daniel’s office number in Jen’s purse as an emergency means to contact Tyler. Despite all that, it didn’t mean the man had a right to go picking at the scabs on Tyler’s emotional wounds.

“Daniel—”

“You listen to me,” his boss said sharply, ignoring the warning note in Tyler’s voice. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know—”

“I know all I need to know,” Daniel retorted gruffly. “I saw how much you loved that woman and your daughter. You gave them everything Jen would let you. I’ve watched you suffering ever since they died. Grieving’s normal, but at some point you have to move on.”

Tyler sighed. “Okay, you’re right. It’s just not easy.”

“Of course it’s not. If it were, it wouldn’t say much about the love you two shared, now would it? My best advice? Get your sorry butt over here and get back to work.”

“If it were up to me, that is
exactly
what I’d do.”

“Who’s it up to, if not you?”

“You know Dad,” Tyler said wryly. “Michael’s away, so he’s staring around the corporate offices looking for a likely substitute. No matter how many times I explain it to him, he just doesn’t get the fact that I hate the whole suit-and-tie routine.”

“Wear blue jeans and an oil-stained T-shirt to the office,” Daniel suggested. “Maybe then he’ll get the picture.”

“Maybe then he’ll have another heart attack,” Ty
ler countered, not entirely in jest. “You know how he feels about the Delacourt image.”

“You can’t live your life for your father,” Daniel reminded him mildly. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m just saying it’s your life, and when it’s over, you’re the one who’ll have to live with any regrets. Personally, I figure the fewer I go out of here with, the better.”

That philosophy held a lot of appeal for Tyler, too. “Don’t fill that job just yet,” he said again. “I promise I’ll get back to you.”

“Don’t take too long. I’m getting too blasted old to be doing all the hard labor in your place.”

Tyler laughed. Daniel Corrigan could outlift and outscramble any man working for him, Tyler included. “Let me know when you’re ready to retire, old man. Maybe I’ll apply for that cushy job of yours.”

“Funny, kid. Very funny. I’ll give you till the end of next week. Then I’m hiring somebody who hasn’t got such a smart mouth.”

“Whatever you say.” His grin faded. “Thanks, Daniel. I owe you.”

“You do indeed, and I intend to keep reminding you of it.”

Tyler slowly replaced the receiver, then switched off the answering machine. Based on Daniel’s news, the clock was definitely ticking. He’d better have a decision before morning, and the strength of will to defend it. He needed total quiet and solitude to think this through. That and a pot of industrial-strength coffee to clear the cobwebs out of his brain.

He was on his third cup of coffee and his twelfth
final
decision when he was startled by a quiet, but insistent knock on his door. He stared at the closed door, trying to imagine who might be on the other side. Nobody got past the doorman downstairs without Tyler’s okay, not even family. And if his father had somehow managed it, there would have been nothing subtle about the knock. Bryce Delacourt would have been pounding on the wood to announce his displeasure with Tyler’s refusal to take his calls.

Since there had been no call upstairs, whoever it was couldn’t possibly know he was inside. Therefore, if he just ignored that incessant tapping, it would eventually stop. Or so he hoped.

Instead, he heard the scrape of a key in the lock, the murmur of voices, then saw the knob slowly twist. He was on his feet in a heartbeat.

“What the hell?” he demanded, jerking the door the rest of the way open and dragging a very startled Maddie Kent with it. “You!”

He stared from her to the apologetic doorman. “Rodney, what is the meaning of this?”

“She said you hadn’t been answering your phone. She said you’d been very upset and she was concerned about you. Since you hadn’t said anything about leaving town again and I hadn’t seen you for a couple of days myself, I figured it was worth checking out.”

Tyler raked a hand through his hair. How could he blow a gasket over the man’s very real concern? Rodney was a valuable building employee precisely because he cared about the condo owners and paid close attention to their security and well-being. The elderly owners considered him a friend.

Maddie was another story.

Tyler patted the doorman on his back. “It’s okay, Rodney.”

The man regarded him with genuine dismay. “It won’t happen again, sir.” He backed away. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Other than peace and quiet, Tyler couldn’t imagine what that might be. Rodney disappeared on the elevator, leaving Maddie behind.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” he asked.

“Your doorman pretty much summed it up. You haven’t been at O’Reilly’s. No one’s seen you since the other night.”

“So?”

“You weren’t in the best mood,” she said, as if that were somehow significant.

“And that would be your business because…?”

Her gaze clashed with his, not wavering by so much as the flicker of an eyelash. Those amber eyes glowed with warmth and concern. “I was worried, that’s all.”

To his amazement, she sounded as if she actually meant it. What had she thought might happen? “Maddie, I drop out of sight all the time. Usually I’m back out on some rig.”

“But you’re not there now, are you?” she pointed out reasonably.

“No, but…”

“So, something could have been wrong.”

“But it’s not.”

“Thank goodness,” she retorted fervently.

He regarded her with suspicion. “How did you
know where to find me? I never even told you my last name.”

“O’Reilly told me. He was worried, too.”

Tyler laughed at that. Kevin O’Reilly rarely worried about his patrons unless their bar tabs weren’t up-to-date. More likely, he’d just fallen for little Ms. Kent’s innocent act of concern.

“He
was,
” she claimed indignantly. “He told me exactly where to find you. Said you owed him one.” A frown knit her brow. “I’m not sure what he meant by that.”

Tyler knew. O’Reilly obviously thought he’d been doing Tyler a favor by delivering a sexy little package straight to his doorstep. “I’ll have to speak to O’Reilly about minding his own business.”

“He seems like a very nice man, very helpful.”

“Yes, I suppose you would see it that way.” He sighed. “Well, now that you’re here, I suppose you might as well come on in and have something to drink. I’m fresh out of ginger ale, though.”

“Juice, water, whatever you have,” she said agreeably. She was already wandering around the apartment, studying it with undisguised curiosity.

Tyler went into the kitchen, poured her a glass of soda, added ice, then returned to find her holding a family portrait, one taken at Christmas the year before. There was an odd expression on her face, one he couldn’t quite interpret.

“Do you have a big family?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Just two brothers. Both my parents are dead.”

“I’m sorry. Do you spend much time with your brothers?”

“Not really.” She put the picture back very carefully.

There had been a few occasions when Tyler had regretted being part of such a large, tight-knit family, but seeing the sadness in Maddie’s eyes, he realized once again just how lucky he really was. From time to time he and his siblings might aggravate the daylights out of each other, but they would go to the ends of the earth for each other.

And with the rest of them married and starting families of their own, the Delacourts were an impressive bunch when they all got together in one place as they had last year for the holidays. His father’s heart attack had been a reminder to all of them how quickly things could change. They had vowed at the hospital never to let another holiday season pass without some sort of reunion. Last year Trish had managed to lure even their parents to Los Pin˜os for a quiet, old-fashioned family celebration, rather than the Houston social whirl they preferred.

“That’s too bad about you and your brothers,” he told Maddie. “Did you have a falling out?”

“No. We just drifted apart. We don’t have much in common anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, helpless to think of anything more profound to say.

“You’re very close to your family, aren’t you? I can see it in the picture.”

“We get along well enough—most of the time, anyway. Like all families, we have our ups and downs.” After his illness, a mellower Bryce Delacourt had seemed to accept the decisions his children had made for their lives—all except Tyler, apparently.

Maddie curled up in an oversize chair facing him. “Tell me about them—I love hearing about big families. And yours is pretty much legendary here in Texas.”

Since that particular cat was clearly out of the bag and she didn’t seem overly impressed by it, Tyler gave her a brief rundown of the various Delacourts, right down to the most recently adopted grandchildren, Josh and Jamie, two brothers taken in by Grace and Michael, who were currently staying over on Trish’s ranch in Los Pin˜os while the newlyweds traveled on their honeymoon. Maddie listened raptly to every word he said, prodding him with questions every time he thought her curiosity must surely be satisfied.

“You have to be bored hearing all of this,” he said at last. “It’s like watching home movies of people you don’t know or vacations you didn’t share.”

“No, really, I love it. Tell me more about your father. I’ve read about him, of course. What’s he like?”

“He’s stubborn, ambitious, dynamic and generally a pain in the butt,” Tyler said honestly. “But we all love him just the same.”

Suddenly she glanced at and then picked up a tiny framed picture of his daughter, the only one Tyler had. He froze as she studied it. Cursing the fact that he hadn’t put it away as he usually did when company came over, he waited for the questions he sensed were about to come.

“Is this a niece or nephew?” she asked.

“No,” he said tersely, then forced a smile. He restrained himself from snatching the picture out of her
hands. Eventually she put it back in place, though her gaze kept straying back to it.

“Enough about my family,” he said, when it seemed she was about to ask more questions. “Tell me more about yours. Were you very young when you lost your parents?”