The Tycoon's Seductive Revenge (14 page)

Shaking her head, she wondered how on earth she’d landed in this mess. Two investors. Two different plans for the hotel. Yet the same intentions for her once they took over. She gripped the brass railing as aggravation consumed her. She wanted a choice in her own destiny. However, that wasn’t an option either of them were offering.

A niggling worry circled her mind like a vulture. When would Carter be back?
Was
Carter coming back?

Would he still bid on the hotel, even though she’d refused his proposition?

Yesterday morning he’d left without a word to anyone, and hadn’t returned. The auction was still set for tomorrow.

While Arnoff babbled incessantly about his “grand plans” for her hotel, with her as his “arm candy,” she looked off in the distance toward the mainland, a blue-green sliver on the western horizon.

She let herself imagine—what if she left El Dorado Island?

Could she make it in the big league hotel chains? Would the Montgomery curse hunt her down?

She tried to picture an existence she could barely fathom, on that blue-green coast where life raced by. Where no one knew her name or face. Where she could start over, begin a whole new life that belonged to her alone.

But where would she go? She had no money, no means of survival until after the hotel sold and the funds transferred, which would take seven business days. She wouldn’t even know where to begin. All those people, so many strangers, so many choices—too many.

How did they do it?
How do you choose which man to love, which house to live in, which people are trustworthy and which ones are just out to get something from you?

Ellie was coming to realize how living on the secluded island had crippled her ability to become her own woman on her own terms. She was terrified to leave, yet too proud to accept a life chosen for her by someone else.

A jittery feeling overwhelmed her. Panic set in. She felt out of breath and lightheaded, her chest tight and her vision blurry.

“We have to go back,” she insisted to Arnoff.

“Why? What’s the rush?” He looked out in the direction of her stare.

“Please, I’m really not feeling well.”

“Oh, look—dolphins!” He squeezed her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her breast. He snorted with pleasure. “I have that kind of luck,” he stated. “Stick with a casino owner, hot lips, because luck always favors the house.”

When she recognized what he saw in the water, a trickle of fear slid down her spine. She shook off his grasp. “Those aren’t dolphins. They’re sharks. Really big sharks.”

Their gray dorsal fins patrolled the waves between the mainland and the island, like a man-eating barrier that warned her not to stray into unfamiliar waters.

“Sharks?” Arnoff looked a little pale. “That’s inconvenient. I bought you a bikini and everything.”

Cold terror plunged through her veins. “You actually think I’d get into the water?”

“I want to see you wet,” he said, suggestiveness laced through his tone.

“Not happening,” she replied flatly.

“In the ocean or in a Jacuzzi, I want you drenched, dripping, soaking, before we hit the sheets. Wet female flesh is so sexy—drops rolling from your body onto mine—does me in every time.”

Ellie scoffed. “I am
so
done with this day.”
So done with you
.

“Sit tight, there, hot sauce. Because I ain’t done with you at all.”

Disgusted, she demanded, “Tell the captain to go back. I want off this boat.”

“What’s wrong with my yacht?” He glared as though highly offended.

“It’s too big, too useless, too ostentatious—and it implies you’re overcompensating for something.”

“Hey, I get tail anytime I want. My casino girls are always up for a quick bang in the office. I’m
not
compensating,” he growled.

“And I’m not interested in being part of your sordid sexual adventures.”

He clamped a meaty hand around her wrist, twisting. “You’ll take what I give you and like it.”

“Ouch! Let go.
Now
,” she said through her teeth.

The boat’s captain came over the speakers. “We need to dock soon, Mr. Applestone. We’re almost out of fuel, and it looks like a nasty storm is heading our way.”

Back at the hotel, Arnoff said, “We have another hour before dinner. Come to my room. I want to show you what you’re missing.”

“I’d rather get some ginger ale from the bar.”
Please be here, James. Matilda. Somebody.

“No, we’re going to my suite now, sugar cube.” He patted her butt again. “Before I buy this place, I want to know you and I are...compatible.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered.

At the bar, she hit the ginger ale button on the beverage gun. She poured Arnoff vodka on the rocks, the cheap stuff. He didn’t notice.

After another hour of enduring his constant self-aggrandizement, she reconsidered swimming with sharks as a more pleasant alternative to him. He ate olives and cherries by the handful, straight out of the condiment containers on the bar. Then he grossed her out by putting his gooey paws all over her. And he got a piece of maraschino cherry stuck in his teeth, so every time he laughed about a story he recounted of his sexual conquests—two-somes, three-somes, and every which way in between—that piece of cherry stood out like a neon sign telling her, “Stop! Run far, far away from this creep!” He was a complete moron.

Finally, after the grueling hour when she didn’t see a soul, she couldn’t take Arnoff anymore. Through gritted teeth, she informed him as politely as possible, “Arnoff, I appreciate your interest in me, and my hotel. While I’d like to stay on as the manager, I can’t be with you on a personal level.”

His beady eyes blinked then narrowed. “Of course you will,” he countered, blithely moving on from the empty olive bin to the mini pearl onions beside it.

Ellie shuddered. “I apologize if you feel I’ve led you on.”
Sick pig
.

“You didn’t lead me on, love lumps. I came willingly. So will you.” This time he patted one of her breasts.

That was the final straw. She stood up and moved several paces away from him. “I don’t think you understand my point—”

“I know,” he countered. “All the girls are like this at first. Then they see how well I treat them. The girls at my casinos know the deal—they get whatever they want from me and my customers’ money, and me and the guys get whatever we want from them. It’s a really generous offer, and they take it gladly.”

“Sure, if they’re hookers.”

“I give them a chance to turn their lives around.”

Ellie was so appalled she laughed. “You’re not serious.”

“It’s much better to be a kept woman for one man, than to take on multiple men a night, and still split your earnings with a pimp.”

Massaging her temples with her fingertips, Ellie shook her head in awe. This guy was a piece of work! “Let me make myself clear. I am not going to be your ‘kept’ woman.”

“You will when I’m finished with you.” He flashed a murky grin.

“I’m not like the...girls you’re used to. I’m not a whore.”

“You slept with the other investor,” he accused.

She held up a hand to stop him right there. “That’s different. Carter and I have known each other for years. It’s none of your business,” she seethed. Then she demanded, “How did you know about that?”

He tapped the side of his frog-like nose. “I know a lot of ways to find out what really goes on in a hotel behind the scenes. A bribe here, a favor there. An accidentally overheard conversation. Nothing gets by me.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, it’s none of your business.”

“I disagree. This hotel is about to become my business and the center of my attention.” He looked at his dirty fingernails and picked sardine gunk out of them as he spoke. “Speaking of overheard conversations. It’s a shame about your lover’s finances.”

“Carter is not my lover.” She glared at him. “What about his finances?”

“All tied up. Overheard him on the phone with his money man. He can’t get access to the cash he needs to buy the hotel. He left Wednesday morning. Doesn’t look like he’s coming back.”

Staggered by the news, she swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”

“There’s no one left but me, sweet spot. So, in fact, you are very much
my
business.”

Ellie wasn’t paying attention to him. Her thoughts swirled around Carter. “He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t just leave without...”
saying goodbye
.

Maybe that was his revenge. He’d made her think he was planning to buy the hotel. He’d seduced her. Tore down her defenses. Forced her to admit that she needed him, and then simply...walked away.

The room started spinning. Unsteady on her feet, she walked away from the bar in a daze. “I have to talk to my uncle.”

Regaining her bearings by the time she reached Russert’s office, she threw open the door without knocking and confronted her uncle. “Why didn’t you tell me Carter was leaving?”

He looked up from behind a pile of documents on his desk. “Beg your pardon?”

“Carter is gone.”

Russert came to his feet. “I knew he went back to the mainland to pull together some investments. He said he’d be back this afternoon.”

“He’s not. I checked the guest list up front. He signed out, but he never signed in again.”

Russert spread his arms. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Eleanor.”

“He has to come back,” she said, her voice trembling. “He didn’t tell me he was leaving.”

Russert drew his lips to one side, as though considering how to tactfully state something. “I, uh-hrm.” He coughed. “I gathered you two were having some sort of... difficulty seeing eye to eye.”

Ellie set her hands on her hips. “Does everyone know about my personal life?”

“The hotel was very quiet last night. Except for—well, you get the idea.”

“Okay, that’s humiliating.” Shoulders drooping, she her hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry, uncle. I didn’t mean draw anyone else into this mess.”

“It got me thinking.” Russert came out from behind his desk, linking his hands behind his back. “Would you prefer one investor over the other?”

“No—yes.” She exhaled. “I know it’s insane to expect that someone might actually ask me what I wanted.”

“I just did.”

She sighed and leaned against the door frame. “It’s a no-win situation.”

“I recognize that.” He adjusted his glasses. “But last night, let’s just say I saw things from a different perspective. I recognized what a difficult position you are in, and while I can’t withdraw the auction, I may be able to stack the deck, if you wish.”

Thinking about it for a few moments, she slowly shook her head. “I don’t know if I want to stay here—I don’t know if I
can
, not with two investors trying to purchase me along with the hotel. I might decide to leave.”

The lamps in his office suddenly dimmed, flickered, then brightened to full light. “That was strange,” she said, looking around, feeling like someone had walked over her grave.

Russert shrugged. “Probably some disturbances in the power companies south of us. The hurricane is heading toward the Gulf, but I’m sure we’ll feel its effects.”

Ellie paled. “I thought yesterday it had died down to a tropical storm.”

“This morning it was changed back to a category two hurricane. We should be fine. Still, I decided to push up the auction to ten in the morning. Should people need to evacuate for any reason, an earlier start time will give them the opportunity to get back to the mainland quickly.”

Russert sighed. “Anyway, enough of that. Is there something you needed, Eleanor? Oh, you were talking about perhaps leaving the island. I support that idea. I think it’s the best one you’ve come up with yet.”

“Thanks,” she said dully, as her thoughts dragged a slew of fearful warnings through her mind.

First, the sharks barricading the island waters. The lights dimming just now when she talked about leaving. The storm approaching.

The curse
.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” she murmured. “It was just a thought.”

He nodded. “You look tired, Eleanor. Try to get some sleep and forget about tomorrow. I realize now that it escaped me how hard this week must be for you. Unlike you and Frank, I never had an attachment to this place.” He glanced around the room. “Strange, but I always felt uncomfortable here growing up, as though the hotel wanted me out of from under its roof as much as I wanted to leave. It seems to choose its master.” Then he shook his head. “Bah, don’t listen to me. Just a middle-aged man with a touch of nostalgia. Go on to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, uncle.”

The hallway was dark when she left his office. Shadows shifted outside as the wind blew vigorously. It surprised her how short the days were becoming. Dark clouds snuffed out any light from the full moon.

Despite her uncle’s suggestion, and no matter how tired she felt, she knew if she went to bed she wouldn’t fall asleep. Instead, she headed into the library. She lit the gas fireplace and it roared to life, spreading a warm glow through the room. She went to her father’s favorite chair and curled up in its massive leather embrace.

The fire reflected something, a silver flash to her right. She glanced at the table beside her. There on the glossy surface, as if her father had just been sitting there and set it down, lay the worn hardcover volume of Poe’s poems and short stories. The silver engraved letters had caught the firelight.

She picked it up, the aging cover smooth beneath her fingers. She opened the book the way she might pick up the phone to call an old friend.

The pages opened directly to
The Fall of the House of Usher
. Trying to remember the story, she came up with images of a dilapidated home on the brink of ruin, amidst a boggy island landscape, and a man who barely escapes with his life after the house and its inhabitants deteriorate before his eyes.

“Okay, on to something that doesn’t remind me of my life.” She flipped the pages.

The next place she stopped, she read the title
Nevermore
. “There came a tap-tap-tapping as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door...”
Quothe the Raven, “Nevermore.”