The Letter (3 page)

Of course, love was the only likely explanation for his father leaving ten percent of his company to Patricia Riley after she had jilted him. The father William knew would have been much more likely to get even with her in a most diabolical fashion.

The whispered story was that his father had loved Patricia, but she had run off with some no-body Irish named Charles Riley.

As mystifying as it was, apparently his father had, in fact, loved Patricia enough to see her taken care of because Charles Riley had run the store in Fort Worth for as long as William could remember. It was William’s understanding that his father hired Riley to run the store shortly after he married Patricia.

Riley made modestly healthy profits for the store for many years. But after Patricia died, Riley fell into despair and then into debt. It wasn’t long after his wife’s death that Charles Riley followed her to the grave.

Those shares now belonged to the oldest Riley daughter and William had expected her to show up at his doorstep. It had been a little over a year now so he had been convinced she either didn’t know about the shares or most likely the piece of paper meant nothing to an uneducated country girl.

Thankfully, his father did have the foresight to consider what would happen if no one ever claimed the shares. If the shares were still unclaimed two years after Patricia’s death, they would return to his control. With one year already gone, William believed he was going to be at the end of this potential disaster.

Was Patricia’s oldest daughter the charlatan who was going to show up at his office tomorrow at 11:00 a.m.? Most likely.

Well, he would soon find out.

Tomorrow he would get to the bottom of this letter writing business then he would decide what to do with the store. The most pressing and important issue was getting his hands on the Worthington family shares.

William’s gaze slid to the window of the bank which offered him an excellent vista of the city that his father had built. It was now his legacy and his kingdom. So he, in turn, had grown and expanded that legacy. Someday, his own sons and grandsons would continue where he left off. And tomorrow this panorama would give him a perfect view of the impostor who had dared to cross William Worthington before he or she ever reached the building.

William’s gaze fixed onto the Palace Hotel located directly across the street. His spy would provide him a list of everyone who had checked in. So, very soon, he would know who the letter’s author was. And it would indeed be most interesting to see who would show up at his office in the morning.

Once he knew identity of the impostor he would carefully consider and decide the fate of this soul who dared to pen a letter to imposter a dead man then demand something of a Worthington.

CHAPTER 4

“
Worthington Bank Incorporated.”

Victoria read the shiny brass sign embedded in the heavy stone building. The building was extraordinary and intimidating, while being utterly beautiful. Built of sparkling slate granite, the bank structure boasted a magnificent sweeping, half-circle entry supported by gargantuan Corinthian columns. The details carved into the stone in the entryway ceiling gave the spectacular building elegance and grandeur.

She had never guessed that Worthington was a man of wealth. Where had his money come from? The store her father had run had made money at one time, but not enough to provide this sort of opulence.

Two things were obvious. She had completely miscalculated Worthington and coming here was a terrible mistake. However, she truly had no other options left. So she would meet this Mr. Worthington and lie like the devil, Lord help her.

Making her way up the marble steps with resigned determination, Victoria went through the glass doors that had been opened for her by a smiling, young doorman dressed in a smart, scarlet uniform finished with shiny brass buttons. She returned his polite greeting as she passed, blushing slightly at his discreet admiring appraisal.

The rose-tented marble floor was polished to a glassy sheen. Giant chandeliers, suspended from the high ceiling, shimmered and glistened. Potted palms and elegant furnishings finished the giant room making it look more like a fabulous castle rather than a bank.

The bank lobby was filled with finely dressed ladies and gentlemen conducting their bank business. The scene was not so different from the bank in Fort Worth except it was much larger and much more crowded. However, unlike the small, wooden bank in Fort Worth, Worthington’s was more like a marble and crystal palace.

“
Can I help you . . . miss?” A thin, balding man, with small glasses sitting on the end of his nose, approached her just inside of the doors.

“
Well, I . . . I have an appointment at 11:00 with Mr. Worthington . . . I . . . I am . . .” Who was she? Suddenly her mouth went dry and her mind went blank.

“
Miss Riley?” The thin man finished for her without so much as a slight smile crossing his pinched, bloodless face.

“
Yes. I am Victoria Riley.”

The lies were getting to her and she hadn’t even uttered them yet.

“
So sorry . . . I have never been to so large a city, I think I am just a bit out of sorts.” Recapturing her senses, Victoria smiled brightly.

“
I see. Well, my name is Earnest Pike.” His round eyes gave her a thorough once over from behind his wire spectacles.

Victoria shifted under Pike’s scrutiny. Something about the man’s expression made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

“
Come with me,” Pike instructed. Turning, he walked toward a large, winding staircase.

Victoria followed Mr. Pike through the lobby and up two flights of stairs. His annoying cold manner made her extremely uneasy.

Her legs felt wobbly and her heart pounded hard under her breast as they walked up the stairs.

There was a large, mahogany door at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Before she even reached it she knew it led to Worthington’s office. The gold nameplate with engraved official looking letters that glinted on the door confirmed her fears about Worthington.

He was a very rich man.

Good Lord, the last thing she had expected was that Worthington would be a wealthy banker rather than a poor merchant. However, she had come too far to run away now. She must see this thing through no matter how difficult it was or how weak her knees currently were.

Pike knocked on the door then opened to let Victoria pass. The door shut behind her with a firm thud leaving her in the large foreboding room without even an introduction. Was it part of an intimidation tactic, or was Mr. Pike just plain rude?

For a moment Victoria stood motionless, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunshine pouring through the window on the opposite side of the room.

She slowly moved from the door towards the desk that sat in front of the window. Although her heart thudded wildly in her chest, she forced a cool serene expression on her face.

Like the rest of the bank, this room had an imposing elegance. However, this room was distinctively masculine.

Shelves neatly filled with books lined either side of the rosewood-paneled room. A lush silk carpet with an unusual symmetrical pattern absorbed her hesitant footsteps.

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, she noticed the leather, burgundy chair behind the large desk turned toward the large window. The occupant behind the desk would have a commanding view of the street below.

“
Hello?” she softly called out in the direction of the turned chair.

Her clasped hands were damp inside of her dainty white gloves. It took every shred of her willpower to prevent herself from wringing her hands together as she stared at the back of the chair. Was anyone in the chair?

“
Good morning, Miss Riley,” a rich deep powerful voice said from behind the back of the chair.

Startled, Victoria mentally scrambled to pull her fragmented thoughts together.

“
Good morning,” Victoria squeaked as the burgundy chair swiveled around to reveal the most stunningly handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon.

The world evaporated in an instant. Sound ceased, time suspended and the air left her lungs. The silver fire of his eyes sliced through to her soul holding her spellbound.

“
Please sit down,” he commanded in a rich, cultured voice. The sound rippled over her like a hot toddy on a cold day.

Victoria stood there paralyzed with emotion and unable to break her gaze locked with his.

Even at a mere glance, he was worldly and elegant. Smiling, he displayed perfect white teeth and — oh what a beautiful mouth, firm yet so unbelievably sensual. With a distinctive, masculine chin and high, sharp cheekbones, his face was classical, aristocratic, yet manly to the extreme. There were a few fine lines around his eyes, and a bit of gray at the temples of his ebony hair.

Could such a face and form ever be accurately reflected upon, even with a poet’s fine pen?

Instinctively she knew that his sophisticated and handsome profile was a facade to hide a powerful and dangerous man. In that instant she knew she had jumped off the bank of a river into fast moving rapids with a steep waterfall at the end. It was also obvious that if she didn’t get out of this fast moving water, she was certain to go over that waterfall.

Fear gripped her and she stepped back.
She could not lie to this man
.

She had to leave now while she still could.

She acted only on instinct. Victoria whirled away from him and swiftly moved to the door on trembling limbs, skirts flying in her wake.

“
Wait!” His commanding voice touched her just as Victoria reached the door. “Miss Riley, please, come back and sit down, there is nothing to be afraid of.”

With the swift silent grace of a panther, and before she could even turn the handle of the heavy mahogany door, he was behind her, his husky voice caressing her skin and whispering over her hair.

She closed her eyes against the unexpected and sensual onslaught of his musky and tantalizing scent that sent waves of carnal awareness through her.

“
Are you alright Miss Riley?” he asked in his deep luscious voice, his breath touching her ear.

Victoria’s breathing quickened and her hand stilled on the door. Gently, he touched her shoulder, his fingers sending hot sizzling spikes through her gown and down to her skin, branding her. Victoria jumped away in shock spinning around to face him again. Amused sympathy glinted in his silver eyes.

“
Please don’t touch me,” she said in a low quivering voice glaring at him.

“
I promise I won’t touch you, just come and sit down,” he said in a gentle, coaxing voice, his eyes sparkling like twin diamonds.

Giddy from head to toe, she tore her eyes from his disturbing gaze and stepped back from his powerful presence. Drat the man anyway. It was his fault that she really was making a fool out of herself.

Mustering her courage, Victoria responded in a cool, controlled voice, “I’m not afraid, Mr. Worthington.”

“
Come then,” he softly demanded, strolling, with an annoying masculine elegance back to his own chair behind the desk and sat down. “Sit down.”

Slowly, she edged back into the room toward the chairs that sat opposite his desk.

“
Not afraid?” He gave a low chuckle. “You gave a very good impression of a person who was afraid.”

Heat spread across her face. They both knew the truth. She had been terrified, but it was just not in the way he imagined.

“
I just thought I had the wrong room. I expected Mr. Worthington to be an old man,” she defended, emphasizing the words “old man.”

“
Apparently you were mistaken in your belief that I am an old man,” William said in a mildly amused voice, his eyes searching her face with deliberate attention. “Although admittedly I am quite certain I am some years older than you.”

Victoria wiggled uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“
That is hardly relevant, my father has been running the store for a very long time, I assumed the owner was much older,” she replied sharply.

“
I see,” he said, pointedly looking at her hands fidgeting nervously with the lace on her dress. She immediately clasped her hands in her lap to stop their anxious dance.

“
You seem terribly nervous Miss Riley,” William noted, smiling knowingly.

“
I certainly am not,” she responded curtly. “I am just impatient to discuss why you asked me to come here.”

William’s smile vanished. “All in good time, my dear.” His voice dipped low. “I am not a man to be rushed.”

Her gaze clashed with his.

“
Would you care for some tea or coffee, Miss Riley?” he casually asked, his voice rippling over her, smooth as honey, but hard as steel.

“
No, thank you,” Victoria answered.

Victoria had no intention of being here long enough to drink tea with this man.

“
Have you enjoyed San Francisco so far?” he asked politely, his deep husky voice penetrating her thoughts.

“
It is a beautiful city, I -- I wish I had more time to see it,” she answered, cursing herself for the quiver in her voice.