Scandals from the Third Bride

Two

“I’ve seen some of the work you’ve done. It’s fabulous,” Cade said. “I have a project I want to discuss. I hope to hire you.”

She gazed at him coolly. “I won’t work for you, Cade. How dare you waltz in and expect to hire me!”

“I could have sent someone with a corporation name you’d never have recognized. You would have taken the job. As a matter of fact, until a few days ago, that’s what I intended to do. At first, I thought it would be best if our paths never crossed. I wasn’t any more eager to see you than you have been to see me.”

“So what made you change your mind?”

“I realized that as soon as you learned who owned the house, you might have walked out. Of course, I could have kept you from ever knowing. I have companies that you’d have to investigate to know that I own them, and I doubt if you check on all your clients.”

“No. I’ve never seen any need to do so.”

“I considered the possibility of staying out of it and keeping you from knowing, but later, it would come up sometime that there’s a house in Houston with your murals and a reporter would dig through the facts to find out who the homeowner is. Also, if I’m here, I can make sure I get what I want.”

“So you chose to come yourself. You want to hire my company’s services. Cade, I’m not for hire where you’re concerned. Get another ad agency. The world is filled with them.”

“They don’t all paint house murals and I don’t want your agency. It’s you I want to hire.”

“No! I won’t work for you.”

“I’ve been told by people in Houston, Chicago and L.A., that you’re the best in the country at painting murals, interior or exterior.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said, not really caring at the moment what he’d learned about her company or her. Why did he have to come back so damned handsome and so self-assured?

“I’ve heard that from people who had no idea where I grew up or that I knew you. You’re recommended by gallery people, museums and your former customers. I’ve seen your work and it’s top-notch. I told you, I prefer the best.”

“That’s flattering, but there are others who are skilled at their craft and they can create scenes that will be as artistic as any I paint,” she replied, certain that there was no way he could talk her into working for him.

“I’ve heard differently.”

“I promise you, there are others who can paint as well. Graham Trevor is one. He’s excellent, and there are plenty of examples of his work for you to view. A mural is a simple thing to do.”

“Right, Katherine, if you’re good at doing them. Otherwise, it’s a difficult challenge.” Cade leaned back in his chair with one hand on his hip. “I don’t want Graham Trevor or anyone else except you. Surely we can both get past what happened nine years ago.”

“No, I can’t! I don’t want to. I hate you for what you did and I don’t want to work with you now. How plain do I have to say it?” she cried. She hurt and he was opening old wounds. Worst of all, right now in the midst of all their bickering, she wanted his arms around her.

“I figured by now that you would have let go of the past. It’s been over a long time,” he said and his words cut like a knife. How could he dismiss the past so easily when it had hurt so badly? But maybe it hadn’t hurt him at all, she reminded herself.

“I’m sure it’s forgotten for you. Obviously, it was over for you before you left Texas nine years ago.”

“We don’t have to be together for you to accept me as your client. I’ll pay you well.”

“I’m sure you would, but I don’t want your money, your business or anything to do with you,” she said, absolutely certain that there weren’t any circumstances in which she would agree to work for him.

They halted their discussion because the waiter came to take their dinner order. Even though she preferred prime rib, she didn’t want to give Cade the satisfaction of thinking she was the same person as she used to be. “I’ll have the pecan-crusted trout,” she said and the waiter nodded. She glanced at Cade to see a questioning expression as he ordered lobster. As soon as the waiter left, Cade leaned forward.

“So prime rib is no longer first choice with you?”

“No. Most all of my choices have changed through the years.”

He stared at her with a look of speculation. “There’s no reason to argue all evening. Let’s settle this right now.” While he continued to watch her, he took out a cellular phone and spoke so quietly, she could barely hear him. He put away the phone and stood, coming around to hold her chair.

“Let me show you something,” he said, and her curiosity was stirred because she couldn’t imagine what he intended. Walking close beside her, he took her arm. Before they left the restaurant, Cade paused to tell the maitre d’ to delay their dinners until they returned. Her curiosity grew over where they were going. They left the building and crossed the street to one of Fort Worth’s best hotels.

“I have a room here. That’s why we’re eating at the Milington Club instead of the Petroleum Club tonight. The Milington is closer. I want to show you something that I intended to show you after dinner.”

She balked and stopped walking. “Your hotel room?”

“That’s where we’re going. I have blueprints of the home I’m building. It won’t hurt you to come up and look and then we’ll go right back for dinner.”

“I don’t need to see any blueprints,” she insisted. “We have nothing to discuss.”

“Yes, we do. I want to talk to you about murals for my house.”

“There isn’t enough money in the world for you to hire me to paint for you,” she said, facing him and touching his chest with her index finger. “No, Cade.” Seething, she burned and perspiration dotted her forehead. She wanted away from him. At any moment she was afraid she would lose the iron control she was exercising and let fly all the accusations she had stored up for nine long years. And that last day was as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday. To her surprise, Cade’s appearance had brought back the monumental hurt when she had thought she had finally been free of it.

“There might be a price that you’d agree to,” he answered quietly. “I have blueprints. At least look at what I want.”

“No!” she cried. “There’s no point in it. None! I’m not working for you and opening up old wounds or causing myself anguish. You’ve hurt me enough, dammit!”

“‘Dammit’ is right,” he charged in a low voice. “This is work, not our private lives. It’s just that everyone—I mean all the galleries and the ad people and the artists—says that you’re the best. Start being the professional that I know you are,” he ordered. “We have the rest of the evening and nothing to do except eat or shout at each other about past hurts or discuss the paintings I intend to have in my new house. Come look at my blueprints.” He tugged lightly on her arm. “You’re the expert. Come look.”

Reluctantly, she nodded and got another warm smile. As they crossed the lobby, he stopped at the desk to pick up a large roll of papers.

In silence they took the elevator to a suite on the top floor of the hotel. Cade unlocked the door and held it open for her.

She entered a large living area with beige and white decor. An adjoining dining area held a table with chairs for eight. Through open doors she could see two bedrooms and beyond sliding glass doors was a balcony with an iron table and chairs.

Cade shed his coat, and she remembered times he had taken off his coat before turning to make love to her. Her mouth went dry as he slipped out of the coat and draped it over a chair. When she had known him before he had been fit, muscled and strong. She guessed that hadn’t changed.

As she watched, Cade cleared a crystal vase of fresh flowers off the dining table and she joined him while he opened the blueprints. No way did she want to work for him or even have someone else in her firm hired by him. She was conscious he stood only a couple of feet away. She looked at his well-shaped hands as he smoothed out the stiff paper. He had become far more appealing, but she supposed she saw some of the same things in him now that she had when they had been younger and madly in love.

In another reminder of how successful he had become, she looked down at the prints that held a drawing of a Greek Revival mansion that had two immense wings and was three stories tall. Surprised, she glanced into his dark eyes that as so often before, caught and held her, making her forget what she had intended to say. His dark eyebrows arched questioningly.

“What is it, Katherine?” he asked.

She didn’t want to admit that she had lost her train of thought. “You left here without funds. You’ve done well, Cade.”

“I’ve been lucky,” he said in an offhand manner as if he hadn’t done anything more than the next person. “Here’s my house. It’s under construction and I’m not living there now. I want murals in six of the rooms.”

“Cade, this is such a waste of time,” she said in exasperation. She couldn’t imagine working for him because she was having difficulty getting through an evening with him.

“Give me a price,” he urged, facing her. His calmness and persistence were wearing her patience thin.

“No, I won’t. Don’t you realize that I absolutely have hated you for walking out on our wedding? Do you have any idea how that hurt?” she asked, shaking as she let go some of her restraint. His patient silence irritated her even further.

“You humiliated me and broke my heart!” she cried out. “I was devastated. I didn’t imagine anything could hurt like I did!” she exclaimed. The words came tumbling out and now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. “You didn’t give me one reason why, or one scrap of a warning. You were gone. Running out on me in the worst, cruelest possible way.”

He flinched and paled beneath his tan, but he had an inscrutable expression that hid his feelings.

Suddenly she let go, all the pent-up fury boiling to the surface, and she reached out to slap him.

Like lightning he caught her wrist and held her firmly, but not tightly enough to hurt her. “You’re not going to strike me when you don’t know why or what occurred back then,” he said.

They were both breathing hard, tension drawn tightly between them while he held her wrist. Rage consumed her. Fire flashed in his dark eyes and the clash between them was tangible. While they stared at each other, he clamped his jaw tightly shut as if holding back harsh words, which was exactly what she was trying to do. The moment drew out and then, as they stared at each other, her anger changed.

While she gazed into depths of brown, he looked at her mouth. When he did, her lips tingled. From the very first his kisses always melted her and erased any resistance to him.

Desire flamed, building heat inside her. They both were breathing hard. For an instant, everything else fell away except hunger for his kiss. She almost leaned toward him, started to and then realized what she was doing. She yanked her head back and shook her shoulders.

“Damn you, Cade. And you’re still not going to explain why you walked out.”

“I didn’t come back to Texas to dredge up old hurts and fling accusations. That’s over,” he said, releasing her wrist. “I’m not going there because we could hurt each other more than ever. There’s no point in stirring up resentment over the past. Not now. You were hurt at the time and for that I’m sorry,” he said with a dismissal that added to her fury. Yet even as his voice remained calm, she could feel the tension stretching and fiery sparks flying between them, invisible, yet tangible.

“Sorry is so completely inadequate!” she cried, jerking her arm free and spinning away from him to walk to the window again. Tears threatened, and she fought to get a grip because she didn’t intend to shed one tear over him. Not after all this time and all the control she had achieved. Where was all that restraint she had maintained through the years?

She wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged herself. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you, Cade,” she said.

“You can look at my house plans for a minute. There’s no commitment in looking. Come back over here, Katherine.”

She turned to glare at him and he stood, impassively waiting until it seemed ridiculous and childish to refuse to look at his blueprints. She crossed the room to stand a few feet away from him.

As she gazed at the drawing of the house, she was again amazed by his success, which was greater than the news articles or the magazines had indicated.

“This is the dinning room and I want a mural on this wall,” he said, pointing with his index finger. “One of the other walls will have mullioned windows that will prevent a clear view of the outside, so I want a landscape.”

She examined a drawing of a room with a cathedral ceiling and an enormous stone fireplace that had a medieval flair, and she could imagine a scene of a European countryside on one wall. He wanted six murals. Her usual price popped into mind and she suspected that she could easily get more from Cade. She tried to stifle any thoughts about the income and what she could do with it for her company. What a windfall the job would be if it had been anyone else who wanted to hire her!

Cade shifted papers and she watched his well-shaped hands as he carefully smoothed a print. She could remember those hands on her body, moving over her seductively, magic hands that had set her aflame. Everything he did provoked memories that were too vivid. Attempting to focus totally on his plans, she leaned over the table to peer at the drawings. Cade moved closer beside her and turned over a page to look at the next drawing. “Here’s the kitchen and dining area and I want a painting in here.”

“Why are you showing me these pictures? The answer is no,” she repeated, wondering if he ever heard “no” any longer.

“You’re letting your emotions rule your judgment because you’re turning down good business. My house will get attention and it would be advertising for you,” he said, turning to study her. He stood only a couple of feet from her and she drew a deep breath. Why couldn’t she handle being near him? When she was so angry with him, she hated to discover that she was still incredibly attracted to him.

“This is one time I don’t want the business,” she said, wishing her racing pulse would slow.

“Let me show you the other rooms,” he said, shifting pages around. He leaned over the table to point with his finger. “I want a mural on this wall. You can select the subject. Of course, I have to approve what you propose before you do it.”

“You don’t trust me, either.”

“Yes, I trust you. I want to see what you have in mind. I’m the one who’ll have to live with it. Give me a price, Katherine,” he said softly. “You have to be enough of a businesswoman and professional to look at what I have and give me a bid. Don’t say no over old hurts. There is surely some point where it would become worth your while.”

As he stared at her, their clash of wills was offset by her attraction, and she guessed he felt it, too. “No, there isn’t because I don’t want to work for you in any manner,” she said tightly and turned to walk away. For one fleeting second she was tempted to fling some impossible price at him, like five hundred thousand per mural, and see if he would back down. The money was a temptation because she was ambitious, but she put the possibility out of mind.

She walked to the balcony door, opened it and stepped outside without allowing herself to think about what the job would mean to her. A cold gust of wind whipped around her and she wrapped her arms around her middle.

“All right,” he said. She turned to find him standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the jamb as he faced her. “I’ll make you an offer.”

She shook her head. “There’s no point in it.”

“I’ve told you that I want six murals. How’s eight million dollars for all of them?”

She lost her breath as if she had received a blow. Stunned, she stared at him. “Eight million dollars?” she gasped over the amount. She couldn’t imagine such extravagance.

“That’s too much!” The words were out before she thought.

“No, the price isn’t too high if I get what I want,” he replied smoothly. “I’ll pay all your expenses, of course.”

Again, he had shocked her profoundly. Never had she commanded such a price for her paintings. Her head spun over the amount and what she could do with it.

“You surely can use the income for something,” he remarked dryly.

“Yes, I can,” she said, barely able to get out the words. “Cade, I can’t believe you’d pay so much to get my art. You can hire perfectly good painters who will do a fine job for you for vastly less.”

“Maybe I owe you, Katherine,” he said quietly.

“A payoff,” she snapped, her temper rising, but there was no way to get the amount that he had offered her out of mind. Her plans for the future of her advertising company flashed, impossible to ignore. His murals would enable her to do what she wanted years sooner than she had expected. “Eight million for six murals,” she repeated as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

He crossed the balcony to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Even though her pulse jumped, she shook her head at him. “No, no. You’re not buying my body with that offer.”

“I’m only standing here with my hands on your shoulders,” he replied in a husky voice that made her forget the money and the murals and everything except Cade. Wind blew locks of his black hair and she remembered how it felt to run her hands through his hair. His hands were warm and he ran them up and down her upper arms, sliding his fingers slowly, lightly in a provocative touch.

“You’re more beautiful than ever,” he whispered.

“Stop, Cade. We’re not going back there,” she said, but her heart thudded and she trembled, aching for him as if it were yesterday when she had last seen him.

He ran his finger across her lower lip. “Beautiful, Katherine.”

Tingles spiraled from his touch and her lips parted. The moment she realized her reaction, she twisted away to walk around him. “Let’s go inside.”

He followed her in and closed the door. “You know you can take the money, invest it and retire.”

“Never!” she exclaimed, frowning at him as he joined her at the table again. “My work is my life. I thrive on painting and would never consider quitting.”

He tilted his head to one side. “I know you took art classes, but I don’t recall that you had any burning ambition.”

“I threw myself into work to get over being hurt when you left, and then I discovered that I like success. All my life I’ve competed with my brothers. I want to make more money than they do, and now I might be able to do so.”

“You’ll have to go some to top your brother Nick. If you accept my offer, you might pass Matt.”

She studied the drawings spread in front of her.

“Here they are,” he said, leaning slightly over the table to spread more drawings out. “Here’s each room that I’d like to have murals in. I don’t have any idea what to put in these rooms. It’s up to you to select the picture.”

“I usually furnish the ideas about three quarters of the time,” she said. “Occasionally, someone knows exactly what he wants,” she answered without thinking about what she was saying to him. The amount of money dazed her. She turned to him. “You can afford to toss out eight million to get these murals?”

“Yes, I can. I’ve been fortunate.”

She had been adamant that she wouldn’t work for him, but his offer was impossible to refuse. She would be certifiable if she turned him down. She could do his murals without succumbing to his charm, she promised herself. And she knew there would be charm. He had melted her heart before when he had been rough and a boy and without means. Now he would be irresistible.

She moved along the table, spreading papers and looking at precise line drawings of floor plans, but she was doing it merely as an excuse to buy time while she mulled over his offer. Could she do the murals and resist Cade at the same time? Maybe he would go back to California or wherever he worked most of the time. As swiftly as she thought about it, she dismissed it. No matter what he said, she knew he would oversee the project.

Eight million dollars for his murals. The offer was temptation with no way to refuse. Yet she could not keep from wondering how badly he wanted her. Curiosity tempted her. With her heart pounding, she looked up at him, wondering if she dared raise the amount. If he refused, she would back down instantly. “I’ll do your six murals for ten million,” she offered.

Holding her breath and frightened by her own audacity, she saw amusement flash in the depths of his dark eyes, which surprised her. She had expected almost any other kind of reaction from him. “A few minutes ago you told me that I proposed too much.”

“I was in shock over your offer. Now, I’m thinking about business.”

“Then we’ve got a deal,” he said, and she let out her breath. “Ten million it is.”

Ten million! Her reputation would be instantly established by the price. Soon, she could do the ambitious projects she had only dreamed about before.

“How do you want payment?” he asked. “How’s half now and half when you finish?”

She inhaled deeply. “You’re one surprise after another,” she admitted. “Why would you pay so much up front?”

“I’m certain you’ll deliver, so why not? You can put the cash to use right away. I can write you a check now for the first half, or Monday morning we can go to a bank and have the funds transferred to your account.”

“Let’s go to the bank Monday morning,” she said, unable to believe such a thing was actually happening.

“Let me show you the rest,” he said, stepping close beside her and pointing to blue lines on another page. “This is a recreation room. It’ll have a pool table. This is an interior room, so I want something in here, too, that will bring in the outdoors. I want the mural along this wall,” he said, drawing his finger in a line across the blueprint. “Something festive.”

“I’ll give you several choices and if you don’t like any of them, I’ll do more.”

“Fair enough,” he said and she realized she would be working with him constantly until he approved the murals she would paint.

“Then this room,” he said, reaching for another sheet and brushing against her arm as he pulled the blueprint in front of them. “This is an exercise room. Do something to liven it up. Something cheerful. Nothing is more monotonous than a treadmill, so give me a picture along this wall that I can enjoy viewing.”

She knew she would have to give thought and planning to what she would paint. She couldn’t make any suggestions at this point and she was certain he didn’t expect her to.

“Then over here,” he said, reaching beyond her and brushing against her again. Catching a whiff of his aftershave, she could see the faint dark stubble of his beard that was beginning to show as he leaned forward, close in front of her. Did he even notice when they touched each other? Was he doing it deliberately or without thought? She couldn’t keep from noticing and tingling as if the contact had been a caress.

“There’s no woman who should have a say in this?” Katherine asked, wishing she could take back the personal question the moment it was out.

He straightened and focused intently on her. “I told you before that there isn’t a woman. The only person who has a say in this is me.” He rested his hand on her shoulder again, but this time, he rubbed it slightly, touching a lock of her hair. “But as long as you brought it up—”

“Cade, I’m taking this job when I never intended to, but I want us to leave the past out of it. I don’t want to go into personal things. Let’s work as if we were two strangers who met tonight for the first time.”