Man's Best Friend (15 page)

* * *

Tessa came back from the bathroom, wearing one of his sleeveless workout T-shirts. She carried two glasses of water. After sitting on the bed, she began rifling around the side table. "Aha!" she said.

"Tessa, what are you doing?"

"Getting some cookies. I lifted them from Milt's stash."

"Cookies."

"I need a sugar fix," she said.

"And the water?"

"Stave off dehydration."

"Ah." Now that he understood. They'd made love God knows how many times. Dehydration was a definite threat. "Come here," he said.

"You'll get crumbs in your bed."

"I'll live with it." He reached for her, dragged her back to where she belonged. Beside him.

For a time, silence filled the room....

* * *

"What you're doing for Cullen—it's nice," she said.

It took him a second to register her words. He wasn't finding it easy to make the transition from blazing sex, to cookies, to the Macy deal. And "nice" wasn't exactly the word he'd use to describe that. He said nothing.

She pulled a sheet around her against the cool night air and sat cross-legged facing him. "People like Cullen need people like you." She nibbled at her cookie. "Smart, practical people who know how to make things happen. And how to make dreams come true." She stroked his cheek. "You're a dream maker, that's what you are."

Rand felt as if he were wearing a too tight tie. "It's just business. It's not about dreams."

"Oh, yes it is. Milt told me what you do, how you invest and help small companies grow. That makes you an angel."

"Milt said that?"

"Not exactly. The explanation was his, the angel part was mine."

"I'm no angel, believe me."

She tilted her head, gave him a steady look. "So... what happened to your marriage, Rand?"

She might as well have given him a hard right to the jaw. He never talked about that. Ever. He pulled himself to a sitting position and rested his back against the headboard. "Is that the talk you have in mind?"

"It's part of it."

Maybe he'd get off easy. "Her name was Andrea. It didn't work out. We divorced years ago."

"Why didn't it work out?"

He gave her a stare ranked ten for its intimidation value in corporate boardrooms throughout North America. "What difference does it make? And why in hell would you want to know?"

She hesitated, let go of the sheet she was holding and smoothed his T-shirt across her knees."Because, Mr. Rand Fielding, I've gone and fallen in love with you." She let out her breath but never moved her gaze from his face.

Chapter 10

If the question about Rand's marriage was a hard right, her telling him she loved him was a knockout punch. He let his head fall back to the headboard and closed his eyes. Even through closed eyelids, he sensed her staring at him. He'd been right. She was a romantic. God, she even thought he was some kind of corporate white knight. How in hell was he going to get out of this and not hurt her?

He met her level gaze. She looked young and scared.

He felt old and damn well terrified.

He patted the place beside him. "Come here."

"I will, but first I have to say that it doesn't matter if you don't love me back. Well, actually, it does, but it doesn't—Oh, you know what I mean."

"I think I do." He patted the sheets again, and she slid over beside him. He put his arm around her and took a deep breath. "To make a long story short, I divorced my wife because she slept with my brother." He felt her stiffen under his arm. He squeezed her shoulder.

"Oh, Rand, that's... awful." She rested her hand on his thigh. "I didn't even know you had a brother."

"A twin. He died with my father, ten years ago, in a mountain climbing accident." Rand put a hand where his heart was supposed to be beating. "I was scheduled to go along, but when I found out about Andrea and Griff—" He rubbed harder and found a rhythm.

She squeezed his thigh. "It's okay. You don't have to say any more."

Maybe he should stop now, but he sensed Tessa's thoughts.
What's all this got to do with my loving you? It
would be better if she understood. He tossed the sheet aside and got out of bed. He thought better on his feet.

Ignoring his underwear, he pulled on the slacks he'd worn at dinner. They were harsh and cold against his legs. "Boyd always told Griff and me we'd have any woman we wanted. All we had to do was open our wallet, and they'd dive in—naked. Woman were a commodity, he said, to buy and trade as the male market dictated. I didn't believe him." He swallowed some of the water Tessa had brought him.

"And Griff did," she said quietly.

"Griff was his father's son."

"I don't understand," she said frowning.

"He worshipped Boyd, thought the old man's advice was gospel, every half-baked adage a commandment. He was everything my father wanted him to be. Like him, Griff was a corporate cowboy to his bones. He sweated blood for Red Earth, partly trying to prove himself to Boyd, and partly out of a genuine love of the game."

"And you?"

"Me? I was the evil twin. Stayed as far away from Red Earth as possible. Went to medical school. Then I did the unthinkable. I brought home a wife."

"What happened?"

Rand remembered as if it were yesterday, but he sure as hell wasn't going to relive it scene by scene. "Cutting to the chase? Boyd told me I was a fool, that Andrea had married me for my money, and he'd prove it." Rand paced to the window and back. "He did. He offered her two million bucks to sleep with Griff. No strings attached."

Silence.

Tessa shifted toward the middle of the bed, resumed her swami position. "She took the money."

Rand nodded. "She took the money. A week later Boyd and Griff went mountain climbing."

"And you think all women are like that?"

He shrugged.

"She hurt you. Griff hurt you. But—"

"Wised me up would be more like it." He lifted his chin, felt his mouth harden.

"They hurt you, and then Griff died." She wrapped her arms around herself, looked away, as if understanding was beyond the bed she sat on.

" Yeah." Rand waved a hand to encompass the luxurious room. "Leaving me all this and too many millions to count. So, what kind of ending do we have here, Tessa, happy or sad?"

She didn't answer him, just got to her feet, stripped off his T-shirt, and started putting on her clothes. He watched her. When she was done, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, hugged him tight. He knew he should pull away, but instead he buried his face in her hair. She smelled like lilac and lovemaking.

She mumbled something he couldn't quite hear, and he lifted her chin. Her eyes were shiny with tears. "To answer your question, I don't think there's been an ending yet, happy or sad. I only know I love you." She grasped his face in her hands, kissed him hard on the mouth, and left.

* * *

The next morning, when Tessa went into the kitchen, Licks and Millie in tow, Cullen was helping Milt make pancakes. The radio was playing hard rock and the back door was open, letting in the occasional gust of chilled morning air. It would rain today, Tessa thought glumly. Mom's arthritis had said so, and it was never wrong.

"Hey, Tessa," Cullen said, plopping a ladleful of batter onto Milt's griddle and managing to splatter it over his pristine counter. "Want some pancakes?"

"No, thanks, but they look good, especially the ones on the griddle." She glanced at Milt, who rolled his eyes as he wiped up after one of the Pacific Northwest's newest multimillionaires. "But if one of you domestic gods would offer me a coffee, I wouldn't say no." She stroked Millie's head and gave Licks her booted foot to chew on. "I'm going to walk the dogs."

Cullen's eyes lit up. "Can I come?" He passed off the ladle and bowl to Milt, getting a smear of batter on his green golf shirt in the process. Milt closed his eyes.

"Do take the man with you. My kitchen and I need a break."

Cullen laughed. "You sound like my mom."

"Dear God!" Milton muttered, turning toward his sink.

"Are you ready to go?" Tessa asked Cullen, not sure she was up for his high energy and good humor.

"Two sees, I'm there."

"I don't mean to rush you, but I'm running late. Got to be at work in an hour." Her spirits sagged at the thought. Even though the Carters hadn't yet taken over the kennel, work wasn't the same. Today would be doubly awful, because she wouldn't be able to keep her mind off Rand.

She'd made the biggest mistake of her life last night. Milt had told her to be patient, that Rand's situation was complicated, but, no, she'd rushed in like the fool she was and botched everything. Her spirits sank to her socks. She didn't know what to do next.

Cullen shoved his big feet, sockless, into a pair of road-tested sneakers by the door. "Ready?"

"Ready." Tessa did up her zipper and took a long swallow of the coffee Milt had set in front of her. "Come on, boys and girls." Both dogs wagged their tails.

* * *

Rand arrived in the kitchen five minutes later, looking like hell and feeling worse after three hours sleep, tops. He poured himself a coffee. "Where is everyone?"

"Everyone? Or Tessa?" Milt said, folding a tea towel.

Rand felt his defenses rising but didn't have the energy for them. "Tessa," he said. "And Licks."

"She's walking the dogs, Licks being one of them."

Rand wondered how she'd got Licks out of his room without him hearing her. Maybe when he was in the shower.

"And Cullen, the exuberant," Milt added.

"Macy?" Rand didn't move, but it felt as if every muscle in his body did.

"Yes, your Mr. Macy. The young man is as dog-crazy as your Tessa."

"She's not my Tessa."

"Of course not. She's just some woman out to get under your skin and into your wallet."

"You're treading on damn thin ice."

"Better than walking on the rotten eggs that have been cluttering up this house since Griff and your father died." Milt tossed the tea towel on the counter.

"Leave it alone, Milt."

Milt shook his head. "Your father was wrong, and Griff was wrong, and Andrea was no more than a young, avaricious woman."

Rand's hand started to tremble. He tightened his grip on the mug. "Yeah, they made a great team."

"If Griff had lived..."

Rand clenched his teeth, set his mouth in a hard line. "Griff
would
have lived. He wanted to stay, remember? He tried to make amends, but no, I insisted he go with Boyd. Then I added, 'better yet, go straight to hell and stay there.' Those were the last words I said to my brother. Twenty-four hours later, he was dead."

Rand set his mug on the counter, left his back to Milt. "Dead because I was a boneheaded idiot out to prove Boyd wrong." He let out a sigh he swore had lain in his lungs for eons. "By marrying exactly the kind of woman he'd railed about for years. If it hadn't been for Andrea, Griff would still be alive and running Red Earth."

"It wasn't what you intended."

Rand lifted a hand. "Leave it, Milt. I've done more talking about my family in the last twenty-four hours than I have in the last ten years."

"Tessa is not Andrea."

Rand crossed his arms across his chest. "Maybe, maybe not. Either way it doesn't matter. I've got a company to run. A woman doesn't figure into it."

"You've got Griff's company to run, you mean."

"It's mine now."

"No. It's not yours," Milt said. "It's never been yours. It's Griff's, and you run it as your twin would have, putting it ahead of everything, because you believe you owe him that—even though he slept with our wife."

"No." Rand shook his head. "He slept with my
mistake.
"Rand pushed away from the counter. "When Cullen gets back, tell him I've gone to the office. Tell him to call me, I'll send a limo for him." Rand was at the door when he heard Milt's last words.