Too Stubborn To Marry Page 13

Anton snorted his skepticism. “I will believe that when I see it. Where are you?”

  “I’m near Newport, on the coast”

  He was clearly surprised and delighted with this news. “Me, too. You know how I love the ocean. But why are you here?”

  “Ryan brought me to a beach house of a friend of his so I’d be safe.”

  “Safe, hah!” Anton scoffed. “I’ll bet the scoundrel brought you to a love nest on the ocean. Tell me where you are and I will come there myself.”

  His words panicked her, stopping her in her tracks from the nervous pacing she’d been doing across the living room floor. “No, you can’t!”

  But he overrode her objections. “Yes, I can,” he said righteously. “I will come to protect you before your love for him returns.”

  “It’s too late,” she admitted unsteadily. “I do love him. Maybe I never stopped loving him. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I know that he’s the only man for me.”

  “Oh, malenka.” Anton’s voice was sympathetic, as if he already knew she was doomed for heartbreak.

  “I shouldn’t keep you any longer,” she said, belatedly realizing that the phone could still be tapped.

  “Do not fear,” Anton reassured her. “All will be well. Try to get free of Ryan long enough to call me from a pay phone so we can talk longer. These short speeches are not enough. I am at the Sea Breeze Motel. Call me.”

  “I’ll try. I promise.”

  As she retraced her steps back to the bedroom, she hoped this mess would be over soon. And if it was, if the Zopos were in custody and her uncle did decide to testify, would Ryan walk out of her life again? Had she kept her uncle on the phone too long? As she entered the bedroom, her worry about the authorities being able to trace her uncle’s call became a moot issue.

  Because Ryan was there, a towel hastily wrapped around his otherwise naked torso. The water may still have been running in the bathroom, but he was no longer in the shower. Instead he was standing next to the bedside table, with the phone receiver against his ear. From the look on his face it was obvious that he’d been eavesdropping on her conversation with her uncle, listening to every word on the bedroom extension.

  Which meant he knew where her uncle was staying. He also knew that Courtney had just confessed she loved him. She could imagine which news Ryan considered to be the most important.

  His voice could crack stone. “I notice you didn’t try to convince your uncle to turn himself in.”

  Maybe that was all he noticed. No, Ryan never missed a thing. He’d heard, he’d registered. He just chose to ignore the information about her loving him because it was irrelevant to his case. Picking up a feather pillow from the bed, she whacked him over the head with it.

  “What are you angry about? I’m the one who should be furious,” he growled at her, trying to wrestle the pillow away from her.

  She held on tight. In the end something had to give, and it was the pillow, ripping right down the middle, the way her heart felt like it was doing. Feathers flew everywhere as Courtney flew backward onto the bed.

  Shoving her long hair out of her face, she blew a downy feather out of her mouth as she looked up at Ryan. How could she have been so weak? She’d known all along what he was up to, but like a stupid fool she’d let herself be swept away by rosy fantasies.

  Like a vengeful mythical god, Ryan stood beside the bed, his hands on his lean hips as he glared down at her, fire in his hazel eyes. The towel wrapped around his waist had slipped dangerously low. His voice was as intimidating as his expression. “I don’t have time to get into this with you now.”

  She tried to keep her voice from trembling. “What are you going to do?”

  “My job.” Turning his back on her, he picked up the phone, angrily punching out a number.

  She numbly listened to him arrange with local law enforcement to have someone come to the beach house to keep an eye on her. So he was going to take her uncle in. She’d known he would. It had been foolish to think he’d do otherwise. It was his job, as he’d told her frequently. And he was good at what he did. He wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of his goal. Including her.

  As she looked at her surroundings through tearstreaked eyes she was hit by the undeniable fact that a leopard never changes its spots.

  Pain spilled through her. She distantly, heard him hang up the phone as she hurriedly wiped away her tears.

  “Officer Logan will be here in five minutes,” he told her curtly. “Until then, you’ll stay right where you are, where I can make sure you don’t try to double-cross me by calling your uncle and warning him.”

  “Double-crossing is more up your alley than mine,” she accused, the betrayal cutting deep. Her words were choppy, her sentences abrupt. “You planned this entire thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” Sitting up, she angrily smacked the mattress with the open palm of her trembling hand. “You got me into bed and made love to me so that I’d let my guard down and lead you to my uncle.”

  All Ryan said was, “I had no way of knowing you’d talk to your uncle behind my back, although I should have guessed as much since this isn’t the first time you’ve conspired with him.”

  She noticed he didn’t deny her accusation of him having sex with her to use her to get to Anton. He didn’t bother defending himself from the truth. She read it in his face, in the tightening of his jaw.

  In silence they got dressed and waited for Ryan’s replacement to arrive. “Don’t let her near the phone,” he instructed Officer Logan. To Courtney he said, “I’ve got work to do.” Then he was gone.

  “I GIVE UP!” Muriel tossed her hands in the air, nearly flinging her magic wand through the mirrored bedroom ceiling.

  “Fairy godmother’s aren’t allowed to give up,” Hattie primly informed her. Today her hat was a perky straw affair with fresh flowers on the crown.

  Aggravated, Muriel turned on her. “Says who, Miss Smarty-pants? Where is it written that we can’t give up?”

  “In the rule book.” With a whisk of her wand, Hattie produced a thick volume that was almost as big as she was, and as fancy, with gilded pages and colorful calligraphic printing. Moving the pages with a wave of her wand, she riffled through until she found what she was looking for. “Right here, on page 3,333.”

  “We’ve already broken plenty of rules in that book. Plus we messed up the Zopo brothers’ fancy equipment, so we’ve already interfered more than once.”

  Hattie glared at Muriel, not pleased by the reminder. “But we’re not supposed to. We’re supposed to act like proper fairy godmothers.”

  “Proper, hah!” Muriel gave a sharp laugh. “If we were proper we wouldn’t be in this. mess. We wouldn’t have screwed up at the Knight triplets’ christening and given each of the babies too much fairy dust.”

  Betty looked like she wanted to bop both her sisters over their heads as she joined in the conversation for the first time. “Can it, you two fussbudgets! We’ve got to put our heads together to correct the situation.”

  “We’re not supposed to interfere,” Hattie repeated.

  “We’re not supposed to fail, either,” Betty said sternly. “And given a choice, I’d rather do the former than the latter.”

  10

  “I TOLD YOU I would take care of things,” Caesar assured his brother as they sat in the back of a Creamy Delight ice-cream truck. La Traviata was playing quietly in the background from a boom box. Caesar sat in a perfect lotus yoga position on a plush maroonand-navy-blue oriental rug on the floor. Despite their unusual surroundings, he looked as unruffled as ever, his black hair and thin mustache perfectly groomed.

  “Buying this truck was a brilliant idea,” Brutus agreed, glad to be out of the uncomfortable driver’s seat with the loose spring that dug into his tailbone. The wooden stool was a little better. He’d never dream of joining his brother on one of his cherished prayer rugs. They were now parked in a quiet residential a
rea. Brutus had been driving for what felt like hours. He was hot and he wanted a shower, but he didn’t dare say anything. Caesar hated it when he whined.

  “Using sophisticated equipment to track down Leva’s niece was also a good idea of mine.” Caesar frowned down at the locator box he held in his hands, his manicured fingernails gleaming. “I cannot believe it malfunctioned once we got to Newport.” He gave the box a smack. “I put that tracking device on Knight’s car myself. I know it was done correctly.”

  Brutus knew the words were meant as a cut to him, the brother who did nothing correctly. That seemed to be his lot in life. Now he was on the run from the law. Stella, his dainty flower, would know that he wasn’t really the investment manager he’d claimed to be. He couldn’t believe the way his life was going down the toilet.

  A banging noise on the side of the truck made him jump. Caesar barely flinched.

  “Hey, Mr. Ice-Cream Man,” a young voice shouted. “Come out from in there!”

  In an attempt to keep up appearances, Brutus was wearing a white coat like the previous owner had worn. Caesar, however, refused to do more than wear a white shirt, complete with designer tie and gold cuff links. Even sitting on the rug, he still managed to emanate power. “You go,” Caesar ordered with a wave of his hand.

  Brutus went to the glass sliding window built into the side of the truck and saw the pint-size rug rat who had nearly given him a heart attack. “Beat it, kid,” he growled in his best villain voice. “We’re closed.”

  Far from being intimidated, the kid put his hands on his hips and started bawling at the top of his lungs, his face turning brilliant red with his efforts.

  Brutus panicked. He had to do something to shut the brat up. And fast! It would be ruinous for them to be the center of attention.

  “Here.” Brutus reached into the metal freezer compartment on his right and grabbed a box full of paper-wrapped ice-cream cones. “Take them. They’re free. Just go away.”

  The tears immediately came to a stop as the boy moved closer to grab the box, only to stare down at it and frown. “I don’t like this flavor.”

  “Fine. Give them back and I’ll give you another box.”

  “My sister likes these.” Tucking the box under his sturdy arm, he pointed to a photo on the menu posted on the outside of the truck. “Give me a box of the Double-Devil Cherry Toppers.”

  “You little extortionist!” Brutus’s voice reflected both anger and admiration as he gave the boy what he wanted. “Come back in a few years, kid, my brother might have a job for you.”

  “YOU!” Anton, dressed in Bermuda shorts and a blue shirt, answered Ryan’s knock. Ryan had deliberately stood to one side so that he wouldn’t be visible through the motel door’s peephole. Anton’s angular features were flushed with agitation, his blue eyes reflected his surprise and ire as he immediately tried to shove the motel room door in Ryan’s face.

  But Ryan was one step faster, putting his foot in the threshold before shoving the door open. “Yeah, me. You were expecting maybe the Prize Patrol?”

  “I was expecting you to show some intelligence,” Anton berated him. “To show some honor.”

  “Yeah, right.” Ryan entered the room and shut the door behind him. The motel room was small, the bathroom through the open archway even smaller. He was relieved to see that the only window was next to the entrance where he stood. “Like it was honorable of you to climb out that bathroom window.”

  “So that stuck in your craw, did it?” Anton smirked. “Good. You are entirely too cocky.”

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know?”

  “I know. And your behavior today just confirms my worst suspicions about you.”

  “That I’m good at my job?”

  “That you put your job before all else,” Anton stated.

  Ryan scowled, thinking how much Anton sounded like Courtney. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning you left my niece alone in your decadent love nest, unprotected while the Zopo brothers are still on the loose.”

  “Let’s get a few things straight.” Ryan paused, not sure which thing to get straight first. There were so many. He started with the least relevant one first, ticking it off on his finger. “First off, I don’t own a love nest—”

  Anton immediately interrupted him. “Where is my niece?”

  “In a safe place.”

  “Hah!” Anton scoffed.

  “Don’t you ‘Hah!’ me, mister,” Ryan growled. “Do you know what you’ve put me through since you took off?”

  “I know what you’ve put my niece through.” Anton glared at him, his eyes eloquently conveying the message that he’d like to do Ryan bodily harm. “You’re breaking her heart all over again.”

  Ryan felt guilt shoot through him. He knew he’d hurt Courtney, but damn it—she’d hurt him. He’d thought he could trust her and she’d betrayed him by talking to her uncle behind his back. She knew how important it was that Ryan bring Anton back into protective custody. But she’d given her loyalty to Anton instead of to Ryan. She might say she loved him, but she sure didn’t act like it.

  Knowing how devious Anton was, Ryan was only too well aware that the older man had brought up Courtney’s name in an effort to distract him. But it wouldn’t work. Not this time. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “And I know what you’ve done,” Anton shot back with a meaningful glare.

  Ryan refused to be fazed by Anton’s words. “You’re trying to distract me so you can make a quick getaway again. Well, it’s not going to happen.” Ryan took out the standard-issue handcuffs he’d had in the car and held them up threateningly. “Now you can come along willingly or we can make this difficult. It’s up to you. Either way, consider yourself back in protective custody.”

  Anton waved his words away angrily. “That is not my main concern.”

  “Well, forgive me if it is mine,” Ryan drawled.

  “I will not forgive you,” Anton shouted. “You are lower than a flea. My main concern is with my niece. And so would yours be if you were any kind of man. Who is protecting her while you are standing here?”

  “You don’t have to worry about Courtney,” Ryan assured him. “I left her in the care of a local law enforcement officer.”

  The older man’s eyes widened with incredulity. “How could you leave her safety to someone else?”

  “Courtney is just fine. As stubborn as always, but safe.”

  “She better be—” Anton spoke the words with soft but unmistakable menace “—or your name will be mud.”

  COURTNEY HAD THE FEW things she’d brought with her packed and ready to go in the black backpack she used as a suitcase. Now that Ryan had captured her uncle, or was in the process of doing so, it would be back to business as usual as far as he was concerned. His time with her was up.

  Even though Ryan had overheard her confess to her uncle that she loved Ryan, he still hadn’t said a word. At least not about that. He’d had plenty to say about her messing up his case, but not about how he felt about her. He certainly hadn’t said he loved her.

  What was she expecting? A miracle? Would she never learn? With her long hair restrained in a tight bun, she curled up on the couch, watching the cold rain that had started to fall streak a path against the living room windows.

  “So much for the sunshine,” Officer Logan noted in an attempt to make conversation.

  Courtney didn’t have it in her to make small talk. Not now. The policeman seemed to recognize that fact, but that didn’t stop him from doing his best to cheer her up. “How about a soda? Ryan said there were some in the fridge.”

  Ryan had said plenty, none of it what she wanted to hear. The policeman was young. With his sandy hair and large ears, he reminded her of a rambunctious puppy eager to please. Even the expression in his brown eyes was earnest.

  She didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. “Sure,” she said dully, “a soda would be fine.”

  “Great. I’ll be right back.�
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  She could have gotten the soda herself, or gone with him, but she seemed glued to her spot on the couch. She’d been curled up here, brooding about Ryan, since he’d left. Since then droplets of rain had run down the window like tears from heaven.

  What an emotional roller-coaster ride she’d been on since Ryan had shown up in front of her desk at the Fell Federal Bank. There had been that initial shock and hope that he’d come to his senses and had come to declare his love for her. Then he’d told her about the case he was on, and she’d known. The only thing Ryan changed in his life were his socks and underwear, not his priorities.

  Oh, sure he’d moved from Chicago to Oregon, but only because of his job. Not because of her. He probably hadn’t even known she was in the same state. Probably hadn’t cared. He’d told her that he hadn’t wanted to work this case, that he was no happier about it than she was.

  She didn’t doubt that But still he’d used the attraction that was between them to get what he wanted. And he wanted more than her in his bed. He wanted her uncle back in custody, wanted this blip on his no doubt spotless professional record cleared up.

  She couldn’t believe how she’d fallen into this emotional trap. She’d tried to be so careful, so aware of what he was up to every step of the way. Then she’d fallen off the caution wagon big time, and taken a leap of faith that things between them would be different this time.

  Speaking of time, she wasn’t sure how much had passed since Officer Logan had gone to get that soda, but surely it was long enough by now. The house was large, but not that large. And the kitchen was just down the hall.

  “You okay in there?” she called out.

  “Just dandy.” A strange man in a Creamy Delight ice-cream jacket walked into the living room. Beside him was a taller, more distinguished-looking man with a thin mustache. He was wearing a white shirt and black slacks. But the main thing that got her attention was the shiny gun in his hand.

  “Who are you?” She tried to keep her voice steady and not make any sudden moves. Fear shot through her with stunning haste. “Where’s Officer Logan?” Surely they hadn’t harmed that poor young man?