In the Firelight (23 page)

“Jesus, Rhys. Your hands are freezing,” Shea moaned as he pressed her up against the doorway to his little rental cabin. His left hand had slipped up the back of her shirt, under her warm coat, while his right fumbled for his key in his pocket.

After a light breakfast and coffee at the bakery, as they had climbed out of his truck, Shea had playfully lumped up a handful of snow and tossed it at him. It was unseasonably warm, and the temperature made it perfect for a snowball fight.

Rhys didn’t even see it coming, although he reacted quickly, tackling her into a snow bank and rolling her beneath him. Giggling and squealing, she struggled to get away, unable to compete with this brute strength. Then he had kissed her, and suddenly, she forgot about the snow. All she could focus on was him. The heat of his kisses ripped through her and she was quickly moaning and begging for him.

He pulled her from the snow towards his little cabin and fumbled with the key in the door, barely able to tear his lips from her skin. A trickle of snow that had caked into her hair ran down her neck, and Shea shivered with the sensation. The chill of the icy wetness, the heat of Rhys’ mouth as he nipped his way down her neck. Shea was breathless, aching, needing him…
now!

Lost in each other, neither noticed the older man approach. As the door finally opened and they started inside the warm privacy of the cabin, the man cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Rhys raised his head and froze solid. His sudden change in demeanor alerted Shea to the stranger who stood before them. Very formal in an expensive-looking, yet somehow ill-fitting, suit and tie.
Asshole-looking.
Shea instantly went on guard.

“Who the fuck are you?” Shea demanded.

“So, Rhys,” the man smiled coldly. “How’s our little project coming along?”

Rhys grimaced and stepped in front of Shea, protectively pushing her behind him. “Don’t McHugh…” he warned.

“McHugh?” Shea gasped.
As in McHugh Corporation?

“Oh, sorry. Is this her? Is this our girl? Wow, she really is a pretty one after all, isn’t she.”

“McHugh?” Shea repeated, her voice only slightly audible. She felt the dread creep up through her heart. “What’s he talking about, Rhys?”

Rhys didn’t speak.

“Rhys?” Shea’s voice quavered as she tugged on the back of his coat. “Tell me what he’s talking about.”

Rhys swore under his breath and glared at McHugh who gave him a sickly wicked grin.

“So, Ms. Madison,” the older man dangerously began to explain, “tell me. Does the name Buddy James mean anything to you?”

“Motherfucker…” Rhys breathed quietly.

Shea stiffened instantly, attempting to hide her shock at hearing Buddy’s name being uttered from McHugh’s lips. To hide her confusion of Rhys’ response. Drawing up every ounce of bravado she could muster, she glared back at the old bastard standing across from her and Rhys.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Should it?” she queried.

“Hmm…” McHugh crossed over to the table, opening his laptop case and pulling out a thick file. “That’s odd. Because, you see… I have this email that I received from Rhys the other day. Looking down through the chain, it appears to be originate between you,” he looked over his glasses at Shea, “and your lawyer.”

Rhys instantly locked up in front of her, his jaw clenching angrily and every muscle in his body incredibly tense. “What the fuck, McHugh?”

McHugh only gave a deep chuckle, oddly chilling with no real humor at all. “Rhys, I have you to thank for it… You’ve always been so dependable.” He crossed back over to Rhys and Shea, handing the paper out as Shea reached out from behind Rhys’ protective stance. She took the paper from him with a trembling hand, looking at it with horror as McHugh continued. “It seems our Mr. James does mean something to you. He has a claim to your land. And he’s offered to sell his claim… to me.”

Shea couldn’t breathe.
No!
This wasn’t happening. “No. Buddy doesn’t want to sell. This is wrong. We settled all this.”

“A handshake and a phone call, my dear. That may mean something to you, but it’s really nothing in the eyes of the law. Especially now that Mr. James is seeing things a little differently. He seems to think the offer we have put before him is well worth the hassle.”

Shea looked back down at the printed out email in her hands, an email that looked to be forwarded from her, and then turned back to Rhys. “How did you get this?”

“Shea, I didn’t…”

“Tell. Me. How. You. Got. This.” Shea’s voice was cold and hard. “Because I sure as hell didn’t send it to you. No matter how it looks on this fucking little piece of paper.” Shea looked back at the email. “January sixteenth… that’s the morning after we…” Her voice trailed off with shock. “Holy shit…” Her eyes flew back up to his. “That’s the morning after we first slept together.”

McHugh laughed loudly. “That’s his usual MO, from what I understand. The ladies just can’t resist his charm. That’s why he’s the best, my dear.”

Shea’s forehead knitted in confusion. “I don’t understand. He’s here to do a report…”

“Oh dear, Rhys, you probably should tell her. I mean, she’s going to find out anyway, right? No? Okay, I’ll tell her then.” McHugh shrugged and looked over Rhys’ shoulder to Shea. “He’s here working on a project for me. A land deal. Helping to, um… sway the resistance.”

“No…” Shea whispered. “That’s not right. He’s here to… he’s… independent…”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” McHugh snickered. “You’ve done
very well
with this one, Rhys. She’s completely smitten. You always come through for me. From what I had heard, she would be one hell of a test of your abilities, but I should have never doubted you. You’ve never let me down. Not once.”

Shea took a step back from the protection Rhys was providing. Without really looking at her, without repositioning his body to face her, he turned his head slightly over his shoulder.

Shea could read the guilt written all over his face.

Chapter 18 ~ The Betrayal

“Oh God…” Shea’s voice broke.

“Shea—” Rhys turned more fully towards her.

“He’s right, isn’t he?” she whispered. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Not totally. Not all of it. I didn’t... I don’t know how he got that email.”

“Fuck that
, Rhys!  How did
you
get that email?”

Rhys clenched his jaw, as he threw a look back at McHugh. “Would you get the fuck out of here for a few minutes so I can talk to her?”

“Rhys… you should really be a little more considerate to your boss, you know. Especially if you still want that hazard pay you bargained for.” McHugh looked over at Shea. “He’d bargained for a little extra on this job, knowing you’d be a little difficult to take down.”

“McHugh, get the fuck out or I am going to kick your motherfucking ass. Now!”

“We’re going to have to have a little talk about this attitude of yours, Rhys,” McHugh muttered as he slowly made his way to the door. He turned back on his way out, looking over at Shea. “Well, Ms. Madison. It was very nice finally meeting you.” With a triumphant glare, he closed the door behind him.

Rhys turned back to Shea. His blue eyes were clouded with desolate frustration. His shoulders heaved with agitated breaths. “Shea—” he began.

“All I want—right now—is for you to tell me how you got that email.” Shea’s voice was hollow, brittle.

Rhys expelled a heavy sigh and shut his eyes tightly. “You were outside… in the morning. Chopping wood. I bumped your mouse, your screen lit up. Your email app was open.”

“After what had happened… what had happened the night before?” Shea’s voice was breathless, and suddenly the realization hit her. “Wait, is that why you stayed? That night, is that why you slept with me?”

“Shea—”

“What? It’s why you’re here. Why you came here in the first place. You came here to fuck me, figuratively and literally. And I’m a fucking idiot because I let you.”

“Things changed, Shea. Between us. You’ve got to know that. At first… yes,” Rhys admitted. “At first, I was here to work you.”

Hearing the words aloud made them seem so much more real, cutting deep and ripping into her gut. Shea closed her eyes against the look on his face as he said them. Trying to block them. Shea’s heart quit beating, time froze as the agony of his betrayal washed over her.

“But, sweetheart,” he continued, “I didn’t—“

“Don’t fucking ‘sweetheart’ me! You fucking cocksucker son-of-bitch. Don’t you dare!”

“We both started out with not such innocent ideas in this, Shea. You know that. You wanted nothing to do with me until I told you why I was here.”

“You mean, until you
lied
to me about why you were here!”

“Whatever! That’s water under the bridge. But you… you weren’t into me just to be into me. You had your own agenda.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shea spat back at him. “I didn’t sleep with you for a land deal!” Shea shouted angrily.

Rhys narrowed his eyes and spoke in a dangerously quiet voice. “No, you slept with me to avoid one.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he was wrong. The fire that lit her eyes a moment ago was immediately gone, an empty, stricken look replaced it. He could see that she was shaking, fighting to keep control of the emotion building inside her. There was a moment that she stepped back in shock followed by a slight shake of her head.

“Fuck you,” she whispered. “And get the fuck out of my town.”

“Shea—” he started to walk towards her.

“Go,” she spat out at him. “Go back to your fucking boss and be his manipulative manwhore.”

Turning on her heel, she was gone.

Rhys sat in his cabin after Shea left.
Fuck! 
This was shit. She hated him. He knew she would when she found out, and he was right. She really,
really
hated him.

He hated himself.

He leaned forward placing his head in his hands, his fingertips pressing against his temples. How much time went by, he had no idea. Then McHugh was standing in the doorway. Holding out a check. Rhys just glared at him.

McHugh set the check on the table in front of Rhys. “Severance,” he said coolly. “I even threw in your hazard pay. After all, in spite of everything, you managed to get me what I needed.”

Rhys felt the rage boiling inside him. More than anything, he wanted to grab McHugh by his gaudy tie and choke the nasty little fucker until his glassy eyes popped right out of his head.

“I’ll expect you in the office next week to get your things. Check in at the front desk, and someone will escort you up.” McHugh turned to leave. “It was a good run, my boy. Too bad this little spitfire had to throw a wrench into the machine. Hope her hot little piece of ass was worth it.”

In a rush, Rhys had McHugh up against the wall, his forearm pressing against the pudgy little man’s throat. “You leave her the fuck alone, McHugh,” Rhys angrily growled.

“I won’t do a damn thing to her. I don’t have to. You’ve done it for me.” Like a sock to his gut, Rhys’ guilt lessened his hold, and McHugh pushed a little at Rhys’ shoulders, giving enough room that he could slip out the door. “My deal is now with Mr. James.” Rhys stood silent, defeated, as the older man quickly made his way down the stairs to his car.

Rhys closed the door to his room, leaning back and thudding his head against it as it latched.

He had to fix this. Somehow, he had to fix this.

For Shea…

Chapter 19 ~ The Anger

Shea bolted through the doors of the McHugh Corporation in a fury. The flight to Portland had been torture, a sick feeling in her gut. She’d never felt so helpless, even when her grandfather passed away. That had happened so fast, it was over before she even knew.