The Delacourt Scandal (5 page)

“Where the devil have you been?” Bryce demanded.

“Home.”

“Then why haven’t you been answering your phone or returning my calls?”

“I think that should be obvious.”

“Not to me. Explain it.”

“I didn’t want to have this conversation,” Tyler said honestly. “I didn’t want you to bulldoze right over me, the way you usually do.”

“Since when have I ever been able to get you to do a blasted thing you didn’t want to do?” his father said with a hint of exasperation. “There’s not a one of my kids who pays a bit of attention to what I want. And you’re the worst of all.”

“Aren’t you forgetting about Michael? He would walk through fire for you. He loves this company every bit as much as you do.”

His father waved off the reminder. “Where is he now? We’re in the middle of a critical negotiation.”

“He’s on his honeymoon. For once in his life, he put himself first. Surely you’re not going to fault him for that?”

His father flushed guiltily. “No, of course not. He married a fine woman.” His expression brightened ever so slightly. “And those two boys they’ve adopted, they’re something. Could have been born Delacourts. They’ll be a part of this company someday. Michael will see to that.”

“He probably will,” Tyler agreed.

“A man works his whole life to create something to leave to his children and what happens? Mine turn right around and throw the opportunity out the door.”

Tyler bit back a sigh. How many times had he heard this? A hundred? More? “That’s not how it is,” he said mildly.

“You see Dylan anywhere around here? Or Trish?”

“No, but—”

“Jeb might as well not be here,” his father complained. “He’s taking on more and more private cases, instead of learning the ropes here at Delacourt. And that corporate spy case he pursued for us turned into a fiasco.”

Tyler chuckled at his father’s interpretation of that particular event. “Whose fault was that, Dad? There was no selling of Delacourt secrets. You set Jeb up because you wanted him to fall for Brianna.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is, then?”

“That not a one of you show any gratitude at all for what I’ve built for you.”

“I repeat, Michael is here a thousand percent. Can’t you be satisfied with that? It’s no wonder he works himself to death. You take what he does for granted, and it’s never enough.”

“That’s absurd.”

Tyler leveled a look straight at his father. “Is it?”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. You sound like your mother. She’s always on my case about showing more appreciation for the job he does.”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“Well, once you’re back here full-time, you’ll pick up some of the slack, take a little of the pressure off Michael.”

“I’m not coming back,” Tyler responded, quietly but emphatically.

His father reacted as if he’d uttered blasphemy. “Why the hell not?”

Tyler gave a resigned sigh. “You know why not, Dad. How many times do we have to have this conversation? I tried to do it your way. I’ve worked in every department in this place. The job I love, the one I’m suited for, is on the rigs.”

“That’s Corrigan’s influence talking,” his father said impatiently. “I knew it was a mistake letting you go over there and work for him.”

“This has nothing to do with Daniel.”

“It has
everything
to do with him. If the man had an ounce of gratitude in him, he’d follow my wishes and send my son packing.”

Tyler grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I heard you’d told him I wasn’t coming back.”

“And he couldn’t wait to run to you, could he?”

“Gee, he seemed to think it might be my decision to make. Now there’s a crazy notion, isn’t it?”

“Don’t get sarcastic with me, boy. I’m still your father.”

“I know that.”

“Then give me a little credit. I know what’s best for you.”

“No, Dad, you don’t. You know what you want for me, not what I want.”

“If it’s money you’re after…”

“Don’t be absurd, Dad. This isn’t about money. I know what you pay your top executives. It’s more than I could make working eighty hours a week for Daniel, and that’s saying something.”

“Then I just don’t get it.”

“I like the physical work, the challenge, being outdoors. I’d suffocate being cooped up in here all day.”

“Dammit, Tyler, working those rigs is dangerous. There was a time when I was learning the ropes that I did it, too. Came damned near to getting killed in a fire on one of them. Your mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”

Tyler saw the ploy for exactly what it was, a pitiful attempt by his father to shift the blame for his own hardheadedness onto his wife by suggesting that she was the one who feared for Tyler’s safety.

“Then I’ll just have to see that nothing happens.” He met his father’s gaze evenly. “And if you want me to, I’ll explain my decision to Mother. I’ll assure her you did your absolute best to keep me right here in Houston.”

For just an instant his father looked so thoroughly bewildered and defeated that Tyler almost relented. Then he stiffened his spine and his resolve. This was the way it had to be.

“Dad, this is for the best. Someday I’ll be too old to work the rigs. If I’m lucky, there will be a nice desk job waiting for me then.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Tyler matched his father’s scowl. “Would you rather I went to another company?”

Red patches darkened his father’s cheeks at the suggestion. “Maybe that would be for the best. It would get you away from the influence of that hooligan.”

Tyler wasn’t sure which of them was the most
shocked by the response. “If that’s the way you really feel—”

His father’s anger dissolved. “Blast it all, Tyler, that’s not what I want! You’re a Delacourt. What would people think if you turned up working for one of our competitors?”

“That you and I had a falling out,” Tyler said readily. “They wouldn’t be off the mark, either.”

“Well, I’m not going to be fodder for anyone’s gossip. If you insist on risking your life, then you’ll do it on one of my rigs. They’ve got the best safety record in the business—Corrigan’s seen to that. The man costs me an arm and a leg with all his precautions.”

“Do you begrudge him the money he spends so that you can boast about your safety record?”

“Of course not,” his father retorted impatiently. “Do you have to twist everything I say?”

Tyler laughed. “Just imagine what I’d do if you had me underfoot every day.”

Slowly a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his father’s mouth. “I suppose there is a positive side to this ridiculous decision of yours. At least we won’t be butting heads on a regular basis.”

“Just holidays and special occasions,” Tyler suggested wryly.

“Better make it more often than that, or your mother will have my hide,” his father countered.

It was as near as Bryce Delacourt was likely to come to an admission of affection, and Tyler found it oddly moving. “We definitely can’t have that, can we?” he replied lightly. “Thanks for seeing it my way, Dad.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? Go on, now, before Corrigan calls up and accuses me of stealing his best worker.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around till the weekend, let Mother fuss over me a little. Daniel can manage without me a few more days.”

“That’ll make your mother happy,” his father agreed. “To tell you the truth, I won’t mind seeing you around the house a little more myself.”

His words surprised Tyler. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting that he missed one of his children. Instead he chose to grumble about their desertion of the family business. For the first time Tyler realized that what his father might mean but couldn’t say, was that he hated the fact they’d drifted out of his life. Nor was he ever likely to admit that he might be the one who’d driven them away through his attempts to control them.

“Dad, you do know that we all love you, don’t you?” Tyler said. “That hasn’t changed just because we’ve chosen to go our own ways.”

For a fleeting instant he thought he detected the sheen of unshed tears in his father’s eyes, but before he could tell for sure, his father bent over the stack of paperwork on his desk.

“You be sure to stop by and see your mother,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”

Tyler hesitated, wanting to say more but not knowing exactly how. He settled for pausing beside his father’s desk long enough to give his shoulder a squeeze before leaving the office. As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Bryce sigh.

“You’re still in one piece. Everything must have
gone okay,” his father’s secretary said, surveying him intently.

Tyler nodded. “Surprisingly well,” he told her.

So why was he leaving with the terrible sense that he had let his father down in some way he might never fully understand?

A
few hours after her morning encounter with Tyler, Maddie picked a sidewalk café in the same block as Delacourt Oil to have lunch. With any luck at all, perhaps Tyler would pass by and she could snag his attention. If not, maybe some Delacourt employees would sit at a nearby table and she would be able to overhear some juicy bit of corporate gossip. It was a long shot, but she had to admit she was losing patience with the snail’s pace of her investigation. She’d been at it for two weeks, and had little to show for her efforts other than a vague feeling that Tyler had fathered an illegitimate child, something she would likely never use.

Used to the immediacy of daily reporting, Maddie concluded she was not cut out for the slow, tedious work of gathering material for an exposé. Nor was
she certain just how long Griffin Carpenter would be willing to fund her fishing expedition. He hadn’t said, and she didn’t want to test him.

Hoping to come up with something—anything—she had spent most of the morning making calls to Baton Rouge trying to pick up any sort of lead on how Tyler spent his time there. She’d come up empty. The man didn’t even have a listed phone number, and the Delacourt Oil offices had firmly declined even to confirm that he worked there. It looked as if she was going to have to go to Louisiana herself if she wanted to pursue that angle of the story. Maybe her time would have been better spent at the library going through old articles on Delacourt Oil in the Houston papers. She vowed to get busy at that first thing tomorrow—maybe even after lunch today if her plan to hook up with Tyler failed.

“Okay, who’s responsible for that look on your face? Tell me and I’ll beat them up for you.”

Just the sound of that deep, slow-talking voice was enough to send goose bumps dancing down her spine. She glanced up into Tyler’s twinkling blue eyes and felt another jolt of electricity. Even though his arrival was exactly what she’d hoped for, she obviously hadn’t steeled herself against his thoroughly masculine effect on her.

“Thanks all the same, but I can fight my own battles,” she retorted lightly, pleased that her voice was steady.

“Mind if I join you? Or would I be taking my life in my hands?”

She conducted a blatant survey of him from head to toe. “Oh, you look tough enough. I think you can
probably take care of yourself. Have a seat and tell me what’s put you in such a good mood. A couple of hours ago you looked as if you were heading off to war.”

“In a manner of speaking I was. Battle’s over. I won.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“For a few minutes, there, it could have gone either way. Now let’s get back to you. Any luck with the job hunt?”

“I spent the morning making calls,” she said honestly. “No leads.”

“Why don’t you let me help you out? If you don’t want to work for Delacourt, I know a lot of other people in this town.”

“I’m sure you do, but I need to do this myself.”

He nodded, his expression oddly irritated. “Pride’s a funny thing, especially if you let your desire for independence overshadow common sense. It can cost you in unexpected ways.”

She regarded him curiously. Had pride been an issue with him before? “Such as?” she prodded.

“Sometimes it keeps the people who care about you at arm’s length at the very time when you need them the most.”

“Has that happened to you?”

His expression clouded over. “In a way. Enough about pride, though. What’s your game plan?”

Since her game plan was in a state of flux and had nothing to do with job hunting, she forced a brilliant smile. “I’m taking the afternoon off. How about you?”

“As it happens that’s exactly my intention, as
well.” His gaze locked on hers. “So, Maddie Kent, want to do something impulsive?”

“Such as?”

“It’s not impulsive if you have to know all the details ahead of time,” he teased.

Her pulse promptly kicked into overdrive. It appeared that this lighthearted, victorious Tyler was even more dangerous than the brooding, vulnerable man she’d first met. No wonder he had a reputation. That smile of his could lure a woman into going against every sane, rational bit of advice she’d ever been given—to say nothing of severing the last fragile thread by which she was clinging to her ethics.

However, his mood played straight into her own agenda to worm her way into the heart of the Delacourt clan. “Name it. I’ll go along.”

“Come with me, then.”

“I haven’t even eaten.”

“Don’t worry, short stuff, you’ll get to eat. In fact, I’ll promise you the best seafood you’ve
ever
eaten, along with buttered corn on the cob and the perfect dessert for a steamy day like this.”

“Lead me to it,” she said.

He held out his hand, and after a second’s hesitation she placed hers in it. The instant she did, she knew it was a mistake. His touch sent heat sizzling through her veins and set her every nerve to tingling.

Slow down, she warned herself. This was very thin ice, and given the temperature of her thoughts at the moment, it wouldn’t take long to melt right through it.

“Where are we going?” she asked, then sighed when he frowned. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You do ask a lot of questions.”

“Can you think of a better way to get answers?”

“Well, just this once, stuff a sock in it. You’ll get all your answers in due time.”

He led her to a sporty, classic convertible from the sixties, its brilliant-blue exterior the exact same shade as his eyes. She laughed when she saw it.

“And here I thought you’d have a rugged sports utility vehicle all covered in mud. Something practical and sturdy.”

“I do. It’s in Louisiana. This is the car I keep to impress the ladies.” He regarded her with a grin. “Is it working?”

“It will if you let me drive.”

“Not in a hundred million years,” he said fervently. “I’ve worked like a fiend to restore this car. Nobody touches it but me.”

“Then I’m not impressed.”

He held open the passenger door. “Still coming?”

“Of course.”

She realized within minutes that they were heading out of town and minutes after that, concluded that they were going to the beach. Still, she dutifully kept all of her guesses and her questions to herself and settled back against the soft, buttery leather to enjoy the ride.

When Tyler finally pulled to a stop in the driveway of a beachfront house, Maddie looked around with undisguised curiosity.

He chuckled at her struggle with restraint. “Okay, go ahead. You can ask.”

“What?”

“I can see you’re dying to know where we are.”

“I know where we are,” she retorted. “We’re at the beach.”

“At my family’s house, to be precise.” A boyish expression washed over his face. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”

She studied him intently, then concluded, “But you love it, don’t you?”

“Every weathered shingle of it,” he confirmed. “My brothers and I replaced those a few years back, after we bought it from our parents. My sister, Trish, says it’s about the only work we ever did here. We tended to party a lot. Now the rest of them are married, so if there’s any partying to be done, I guess it’s up to me.”

He held out his hand again. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

He conducted the tour with evident pride, pointing out every change he and his brothers had made to the structure. The rooms were filled with sunlight and comfortable, worn furniture. The wood floors had been worn smooth by sandy feet. Ceiling fans, which he turned on as they went, kept a salty breeze stirring through the rooms. Finally he gestured toward a deck that faced the Gulf of Mexico.

“Have a seat and relax. I’ll run to the store and pick up what we need for a feast.”

The chaise lounge, deep in the shade, looked tempting. “Are you sure? I could come along and help.”

“A polite, dutiful offer, but unnecessary. I’ve got it covered. If you want something to drink, there may be a few beers or soft drinks in the refrigerator—help yourself. And there are paperback novels scattered everywhere if you feel inclined to read.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He studied her intently for a heartbeat, then grinned. “Thanks for coming with me, Maddie Kent.”

Only after he’d walked away did she whisper, “Thanks for inviting me.”

And for leaving her alone so she could snoop, she thought with some degree of guilt.

As distasteful as the thought was, the opportunity was too good to pass up. And so the minute she heard the sound of the car’s engine begin to fade, Maddie began exploring.

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be much to find, she decided ruefully after completing her inspection of the second floor. The bedrooms were simply decorated. The drawers held an anonymous assortment of bathing suits, shorts and T-shirts. The closets were virtually empty except for the occasional pair of old sneakers and discarded socks. No secrets here, she concluded with regret. Just evidence of a houseful of bachelors who passed through whenever the mood suited them.

Back downstairs she found cupboards filled with playing cards and board games, stacks of CDs and old magazines, and the promised supply of dog-eared paperbacks. Far more enticing was the collection of old snapshots she found in a drawer. She took them with her to a chair and studied them with fascination.

The photos seemed to span at least ten years or more, beginning when Tyler was maybe twelve. She recognized his smile, as well as the fact that he was the smallest of the boys and the only one whose hair was the color of straw. She recalled various news
paper photographs of his parents, both of whom had darker coloring, more in keeping with that of his brothers and his sister.

None of the pictures appeared to be more recent than his college days. Other than his sister, Trish, who was in the family photos, there didn’t seem to be any women, not even as the boys grew into men. Whatever bachelor parties they threw, apparently no one wasted time taking snapshots.

Oddly, there didn’t seem to be any pictures of their parents. Had Bryce Delacourt been the one behind the camera? Or had he and his wife not spent time here? She was still pondering the implications of that when she heard the purr of the car as it pulled into the driveway. Hastily she put the pictures back where she’d found them and walked outside just in time to see Tyler emerge from the car with an armload of groceries.

“Did you buy out the store?” she asked, chuckling at the amount of food he’d apparently bought for their supposedly simple meal.

“Once I got started, I couldn’t seem to stop.” His gaze settled on her face. “Maybe we’ll have to stick around a few days so it won’t go to waste.”

Maddie’s heart thumped unsteadily at the teasing suggestion. Staying here, alone with Tyler, was not an option. Alarm bells clanged from so many different directions, her head ached from the clamor.

“Let’s stick to our late lunch, shall we?”

He regarded her with disappointment. “What’s wrong, Maddie? No sense of adventure?”

“I’m as adventurous as the next person,” she as
sured him. “But I’m also out of work. I need to keep looking for a job. I can’t keep playing hooky.”

“It’s not hooky if you don’t have a job to begin with,” he reminded her as he carried the groceries inside and set them on the kitchen counter. “It’s seizing the moment.”

“Well, maybe you can afford to seize the moment, but I can’t.”

He paused while taking food from the bags to level a look at her. “If you’re in a bind—”

“I’m not,” she said hastily. “Not yet, anyway. I have some savings. I didn’t just impulsively take off with nothing to fall back on. But it won’t last forever.”

“Well, if your situation changes, you can come to me. I want you to remember that,” he said with apparent sincerity.

She stared at him in astonishment. “You hardly know me. Why would you be willing to loan me money?”

He shrugged. “Because I can.”

She suspected he meant exactly that. She also had the feeling that he would make the same impulsive offer to anyone he ran across who offered up a convincing sob story.

“Tyler, you can’t go around passing out money to everyone who seems down on his luck.”

“Why not? What good is having money if you can’t help other people?”

“It’s not that,” she said, frustrated by his inability to recognize the possibility that people might abuse his generosity.

“What then?”

“People will take advantage of you,” she said, ignoring the fact that in her own way she, too, was doing exactly that, though not financially.

“I suppose. But I’d rather risk that than ignore someone who might really need a helping hand.”

“Then give money to charities. Take a tax write-off.”

“I do, but this isn’t about getting a good deduction on my income taxes. It’s about stepping up to the plate, even when there’s nothing to be gained in return.”

“Are you for real?” she asked, unable to imagine him as the offspring of the hard-hearted Bryce Delacourt. Who had taught him such a standard? Surely not his father.

“You think there’s something wrong with doing a good deed every now and then?” he asked, studying her.

“Of course not, but people like you can get taken to the cleaners by con artists.”

He laughed. “I’d like to think I’m a better judge of character than that.”

Maddie wasn’t so sure. Take her, for example. She wasn’t at all what she appeared, but he didn’t seem to suspect it, not anymore, anyway. Whatever suspicions he’d held when they’d first met seemed to have vanished. He seemed to be accepting her at face value now. He’d invited her here, hadn’t he?

Was he truly beyond cynicism and suspicion where she was concerned? Or was she the one being deceived? Was this just his way of getting her to let down her guard so she’d slip up?

Maddie sighed. What a tangled web this was turning out to be.

“Why the sigh?”

“Just thinking about the fact that it must be nice not to be as distrusting and jaded as I am.”

“Who made you that way?”

She wondered what he would say if she told him it had been his father. Instead, she shrugged off the question. “Just life.”