Some Like It Ruthless (A Temporary Engagement) (7 page)

Virginia Caldwell sat in the plush armchair she’d dragged into her father’s room right after he got sick and read the society pages to him.

It wasn’t his favorite. But he’d never minded listening to gossip.

She’d work her way to the business news, give him something meaty to mull over at the end.

Because she knew he was still in there. Trapped in this room, in his dying body. But still here. She could only think that he was still alive because he
willed
it. He was still in there, wanting to be alive.

Ginny read a baby announcement, then paused.

Daddy had always liked to think about things. To savor that moment that came right after new information. He hadn’t really cared if it was good information or bad.

He’d liked the pause. To feel everything in that moment, because it would never come again.

Unfortunately, it also forced her to pause and she didn’t want to think about baby announcements.

She looked out the window, at her husband still sitting by the pool. She wanted to go out to him, sit in his lap, wrap her arms around him, and wipe all his hurts away.

But she couldn’t.

If she went out to him, he’d jump up and try to get away from her. Not want to hold her, not want to look at her. Because he saw a failure when he looked in the mirror and thought that was what she saw, too.

She didn’t know how to help him. She wasn’t sure she could.

She looked down at the paper again and read a marriage announcement.

She gave Daddy time to think about the impending union of the daughter of an old golfing buddy of his, then said, “You’re not going to like this next announcement. Remember your blood pressure, okay?”

His machine beeped at her.

“Maggie asked Cole Montgomery to help us.”

And her father might be comatose but Ginny decided not to tell him she’d been the one to suggest it.

“He agreed. So. . . they’re engaged.”

She listened to his machine beeping, trying hard to tell if it had sped up any. If anything could make Sam Caldwell take up his bed and walk, it would be the thought of one of his daughters marrying a Montgomery.

But his eyes didn’t open and his machine continued its endless steady march.

Ginny couldn’t help Maggie. Not again. She’d sided with Maggie against her husband once and she wouldn’t do it again. If she could go back, she would let their family business fail, let them all fall. Because it would have been better to fall with her husband than to watch him fall by himself.

She would give anything to be with him in that dark place.

But the only thing that could rival seeing her husband so depressed was seeing her sister edging to that same cliff.

They had both looked so hopeless, so lost. Alone.

Ginny had thought that asking Cole for help might just give their business a chance. If he would agree to help them.

That she had never been sure about. Cole was. . . unpredictable. Except for his ruthlessness. And two members of her little family had already crossed him.

But mentioning Cole had given Maggie an enemy to engage with. To focus on. To spar with.

Maybe an enemy wasn’t the best solution to the alone problem but Ginny knew her sister. Maggie needed someone who would push at her, irritate her, not coddle her.

Cole would never coddle her sister.

In the days since Ginny had mentioned his name, Maggie had become revitalized. Not only had Cole given her hope, his name had snapped her out of her funk. She might still fail but if Cole was watching her, she’d do it with her head held high.

And now Ginny only had to worry about her husband again. Because if Maggie and Cole saved the business, Tanner would be the only failure.

Ginny wasn’t sure he would survive that.

She looked out the window again. Tanner wasn’t alone; he just wanted to be.

“Oh, Daddy. What do you do when someone you love hates who he is?”

She paused, waiting. But her father never answered.

Maggie looked over at Cole glaring out the window of her Hyundai, his arms crossed. She said, “You’re pouting.”

He looked at her. “You cheated.”

“
You
cheated. I just didn’t let you win this time.”

“You always pick scissors.”

“Really, Cole. I always pick scissors?” She laughed, shaking her head. “Boys are so easy. Especially when they’re underestimating a girl.”

“You’re telling me you did it on purpose the whole time? I don’t believe you.”

It had started on accident but she’d found it useful. When she was a child.

She said, “You let me win most of the time and it was interesting to see when you really wanted it.”

“I figured if you won most of the time, you’d keep picking scissors.”

She smiled. “You figured right.”

The traffic into Dallas was busy and when Maggie got downtown she didn’t even bother looking for a parking space, just went straight to a garage.

Oh, how she missed her dedicated spot at her old building.

But that had gone awhile ago. They’d had to find cheaper rent on the outskirts of town, away from the central business district.

She wasn’t sure if advertising their financial troubles had been the best idea but it had been necessary. To save a sinking ship, you had to plug holes and start bailing. Cut costs and increase revenue.

Cole sat firmly in the cut costs category. Bankruptcy really was a last resort, for everyone involved, and if Cole Montgomery made her creditors think they could get more for her debt by sticking with her than the pennies they’d get after she declared bankruptcy, they’d work with her on the repayment terms. If she could cut her debt payments enough, she might stop going into more debt with every passing month.

Maggie thought Cole might even sit in the increase revenue category, if he could be persuaded to take on a partner out in Midland.

One step at a time. Maggie could only focus on one impossible mission at a time.

Plus, she was pretty sure she knew what he would want in exchange for a partnership. And if she ever ended up in Cole’s bed again, it wouldn’t be because of a deal.

Which meant she wasn’t getting back in his bed.

Cole unfolded himself out of her little car and she said, “See. It’s bigger than it looks.”

“I very nearly fit. But my truck is more comfortable.” He stretched and eyed her. “And it has bench seats.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so? We could have stopped for a little afternoon delight if we’d only had bench seats.”

He matched her long stride easily, taking her free hand and pulling it through his arm.

His muscles were hard against her fingers, his skin hot through his shirt. She stopped and turned toward him. Their bodies were close and she could smell his Irish Spring.

Too many memories. Like he’d said, not all of them bad. But they were all distracting.

She took a deep breath, not trying to pull her hand away. He was a predator, snapping at her heels, trying to make her run.

And if she knew one thing, it was that you didn’t run from a predator.

You pushed back. You made
him
run.

And if it was anyone but Cole she would have closed that distance between them. Pressed her body into his, rubbed her hand up and down his arm, lowered her voice, and erased every thought in his head but the one she put there.

She wasn’t above using everything she had to win.

She just hated when it backfired. Because she still had the image of him lifting her onto his counter, his hands on her ankles.

He’d painted a picture, dammit. And she couldn’t get it out of her head

She looked down at her arm entwined with his and said, “I don’t need an escort.”

“I’m not escorting you. I’m accompanying you.”

“You don’t need to be touching me to be accompanying me.”

He was the one that closed the distance between them. He was the one who pressed his body against hers, who lowered his voice.

He said, “I’m just playing the part, Maggie. And if this was real, I’d be touching you.”

She whispered, “You’re going to push this as far as you can, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“You’re really starting to irritate me.”

Cole said, “I know. I like you irritated.”

“You think I won’t take it out on you?”

“I’m hoping you will.”

A laugh escaped, her belly pulsing against his, and then she narrowed her eyes. “Are you
distracting
me?”

He put his lips on hers, making her stomach wobble, her breath hitch.

She kept her eyes open, her lips shut.

He pulled back and smiled. “Is it working?”

She did step back then. But she kept her arm linked through his.

“I don’t need your help, Cole. You’re only here to look pretty.”

He chuckled and covered her hand. “I’m only here for the show. And I want to see a tigress hunting her dinner, not a lamb afraid of the slaughter.”

She stopped again. “Do I look like a lamb?”

“I can see
if
etched between your eyes. There was no
if
when you came to see me and I’ll be damned if this yahoo gets an
if
.”

“There was no
if
with you because I didn’t want you to go along with my plan.”

He started walking again, dragging her along with him. “And you don’t want this yahoo to go along with your plan either.”

She walked beside him in silence, her heels clicking loudly in the garage.

She finally conceded defeat. “I’m not following you.”

“It’ll come to you.”

She turned her head to glare at him. He didn’t look at her but he did smile.

If she wasn’t a lady she would tell him where he could shove it.

But she was a lady. Which meant she could think it all she wanted, she just wouldn’t say it.

Cole lost the smile before they entered the gleaming glass building. He strode in with her on his arm, his jeans clean and neat but still jeans, his boots minus the mud but still boots. His expression said that they would accommodate him, not the other way around.

It had been a long time since she’d felt like that. A long time since she’d strode into any building knowing she owned it.

Did she have an
if
etched between her eyes?

With Cole she’d been fearless. But he was Cole. And a Montgomery.

You didn’t
if
a Montgomery. They’d play you along just for the fun of it.

She wouldn’t
if
Cole. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

They rode the elevator up in silence. As the doors opened, he turned to her. His blue eyes clear, cold, calculated.

She knew no one would see the humor. No one ever had.

He waited for her to exit, waited for her to lead.

She handed her card to the woman manning the front desk and said, “Margaret Caldwell and Cole Montgomery. Gary Irvine will see us.”

She looked at Cole beside her. Quiet. Unsmiling. Fearsome.

Ruthless.

In that moment, it clicked.

He
was the tiger and she was the one who held the thin leash.

She didn’t want this yahoo to give in now. She’d wanted him to make arrangements with her months ago.

Now she wanted Cole to eat him.

She turned back to the secretary. And she smiled.

They hadn’t bothered to sit, just waited to be escorted back.

The secretary had made one short call and then taken them down the hall where they were met by Gary’s personal administrator and escorted straight into his office.

Maggie had said, “I brought my fiance, I hope you don’t mind,” with a smile that said all too clearly she hoped he did.

Cole had practically heard the silent
oh, shit
from across the room.

He knew Maggie on her game would be entertaining.

He knew linking their names would strike terror into the heart of Dallas.

And he knew, the second they left, that Gary here would be calling everyone he knew to pass on the news.

The Montgomerys and Caldwells had teamed up. And they were out for blood.

Christ almighty, this was going to be fun.

Cole stayed silent, letting Maggie have her way.