Fortune's Legacy (14 page)

So she did what she always did when she was hurt. She attacked.

“Is that right?” Her voice was low, soft and full of venom. “Then why take me on this trip, Garrett?”

“What?”

“Why me?” she repeated, warming to the thoughts presenting themselves in her churning mind. “Why now? Tell me, was seducing me part of this whole deal? Did Miles tell you to show me a good time to make sure I went along?” Oh, God. Pain lurched through her. Had she really been just a tool? Just part of a grand scheme to suck her family into a merger? Had nothing that passed between them the night before been real?

“Was this the plan all along?” she asked. “To make me pliable enough to approach the Fortunes on behalf of Voltage?”

He let her go as if his fingers were on fire. Staring at her through hard, cold eyes, he growled, “You know better than that.”

“Do I?”

“You damn well should,” he said tightly. “Last night was between
us.
It had nothing to do with either of our jobs.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” she asked, despite the ring of truth in his voice.

“Guess you'll just have to trust me.”

“See, that's the problem,” she snapped, “I
don't.
” Reaching for the paper again, she shook it at him. “Trust got shot to hell the minute I saw this article, Garrett.
Voltage was going to use me—so why should I believe that they weren't using you to get to me?”

Fury vibrated off of him in waves. His eyes were hot with indignation and his jaw clenched so tight she was surprised it didn't snap.

Watching his anger mount drained her of her own. Kyra felt exhausted. Empty. Drained of everything that had so filled her the night before.

Then, she'd been truly, completely alive and just realizing that she'd fallen in love for the first time in her life.

Now she was faced with the sad truth that the man she loved didn't really exist. He was as much a fantasy as that one night in the cabin had been.

Shaking her head, she glanced down at the paper again. But this time her gaze drifted from the damning article about Voltage to the bold black print atop a different article, higher up on the front page.

“Oh my God.” She swayed as tears filled her eyes and the world gave a sudden, hard tilt to one side.

“Kyra?”

She shook her head, tears falling freely now as she staggered back to her seat and fell into it.

“Kyra, what is it?”

Past the ringing in her ears, Kyra heard his voice, so soft and concerned. God, she wanted to curl up into his lap and find comfort. But there was no comfort for this. Nothing that could ease the pain.

And even if there were, she'd lost the right to turn to him. Lost that tenuous thread of shared affection. She'd had no idea that she would miss it so desperately, so soon.

She stared at the newspaper and read aloud the words that had sliced her heart: “Ryan Fortune Dies at Double Crown Ranch.”

A long moment of silence passed, where the only sound was the quiet growl of the jet engines winging them toward Texas. Toward a family battered by grief. Toward the emptiness of a quiet condo. Toward the promise of loneliness.

Then Garrett crouched in front of her and took both of her hands in his. “I'm so sorry, Kyra.”

She let her head fall back against the seat. His grip felt warm, solid. But she knew this, too, was a temporary thing. This tenderness. Much like the night at the cabin, it would end once they reached their destination.

Better, she thought, that it end now.

“I know,” she whispered, turning her gaze to the wide blue sky outside the window, “but it doesn't change anything, Garrett.”

“Kyra—”

She couldn't look at him. Couldn't see sympathy in his eyes when she was still so disappointed in him…in everything. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

His hands tightened on hers briefly, then he let her go and stood up. “Can't I do something for you, Kyra?”

“You can get me home, Garrett,” she whispered brokenly. “I just need to be home.”

R
eporters had her condo staked out.

Kyra stopped her car at the end of the block and stared blankly at the crowd of people clustered in front of her home. News vans, antennae poking up from their roofs like antlers on deer, were double-parked in the street. Camera men, photographers, reporters, all hungrily awaiting the story of Kyra's misery, jostled for space on the sidewalk in front of the gated entrance.

Driving straight here from the airport, all she'd been able to think about was closing herself up in her own home and drowning her sorrows in a glass of wine while sitting in a bubble bath. Now those plans were smashed. She'd never be able to get past that crowd unnoticed.

Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a few minutes. Her heartbeat thudded painfully in her chest and she wondered just how much more could go wrong.

She'd lost her reputation, probably her job. She'd lost Ryan. She'd even lost Garrett—at least, the image she'd had of him for so short a time. God, last night felt like years ago. So much had happened so quickly. So much had been said, so many words spoken that could never be taken back.

She sighed and lifted her head wearily. Her heart ached from that last awful conversation with Garrett, and she felt more vulnerable at that moment than she ever had before. She couldn't help wondering why she'd ever thought that being alone was a good way to live.

Then she remembered the flash of anger and denial in Garrett's eyes when she'd accused him of using her, and told herself that maybe she'd been wrong about him. Maybe he hadn't known anything about this so-called merger.

But even if he hadn't, it was too late now to do anything about it. In her pain and fury, she'd lashed out at him—and she knew that part of the reason for her rage was that one sparkling moment last night when she'd realized that she loved him.

“What a mess,” she whispered, and heaved a sigh that came all the way up from the tips of her toes. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked herself, more to hear the sound of a voice in the silence than anything else. “Where can I go?”

And just how sad was it that the one person she wanted to go to was Garrett—the one person she couldn't have?

Shaking her head, she swiped her fingertips under her eyes and muttered, “Get a grip, Kyra. You can't just sit here in your car for the rest of the day.”

Suddenly she knew where to go. Whom to run to.

Still feeling emotionally battered and sorely disappointed, Kyra made a sharp U-turn and steered her car back the way she'd come.

Eyes teary, she blinked frantically to keep the road ahead of her clear. There was only one other place she knew she'd be welcome. One place that any Fortune in trouble could turn to.

She put her foot down on the gas pedal and headed for the Double Crown Ranch.

 

By late the next afternoon, all of Texas was buzzing about Voltage Energy Company and Fortune TX, Ltd. There were news vans camped outside Voltage and several at Kyra's place. Garrett knew because he'd gone by there last night looking for her, only to be told by frustrated reporters that she had never shown up at her house.

He'd tried calling her place to leave messages, hoping that she would at least dial in and pick them up. But if she had, she was ignoring him.

Garrett hadn't seen her since they'd landed at the private airstrip in Red Rock early the day before. She'd left word with her assistant this morning that for now she'd be staying at the Double Crown and not coming in to
work. Garrett knew that even if she wanted to see him, he'd have a hell of a time getting past the ranch security. Especially now, with every dignitary in the country—and some from around the world—here for Ryan Fortune's funeral.

God, he wanted to see her.

Nothing had been the same for him since leaving that cabin. He wanted those hours again. He wanted to turn the clock back and reclaim the two of them as they'd been together. He wanted to be there for her now. To help her through the misery he'd seen glimmering in her eyes when she'd told him goodbye.

It killed him to know that he'd caused plenty of her misery himself. He should have told her the truth about the damn promotion the minute Henderson had ordered it. He should have trusted that anyone with Kyra's sense of self determination wouldn't accept a promotion with strings attached. He should have—

Hell, he should have done lots of things differently. Should have opened his own eyes years ago. Seen that the friction between him and Kyra Fortune was a sign of the chemistry they shared. He should have risked his own stupid pride and his heart. He should have—

“Pointless to think about all that now,” he muttered, parking his car in his reserved space at Voltage. “Lost chances are just that. Lost. What I have to do now is all that matters.”

Last night, sitting in his empty house, he'd finally understood that to win back Kyra, he had to convince her
that she could trust him. Now he just had to figure out how to do that.

He grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat, slammed the door of his sporty convertible and headed for the gleaming glass building.

Since he couldn't reach Kyra at the moment, he was determined to focus his energies somewhere else. To find the truth behind the newspaper report. To discover what was real and what was fiction. Only then would Kyra listen to him. Believe him.

And Garrett knew, with sudden, heart-staggering clarity, that he wanted—no, needed—her to trust him again.

Because without trust, there could be nothing else.

And he wanted it all.

He'd been a damn fool and he knew it.

Gritting his teeth, he entered Voltage, nodded absently at the security guard at the front desk, then stalked past the lobby to the elevator. He pushed the call button and waited.

Here was his world. He'd given up his life, given up everything for this job. The one place where he'd made his mark.

For what?

Business?

Money?

“Bullshit.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

Garrett blinked, glanced at the man standing beside him in front of the bank of elevators, and shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Right.” The other man practically whistled as he turned his gaze away and studiously avoided eye contact.

Garrett hardly noticed. How could he? His mind was too filled with his own stupidities to think of anything else. He'd let Kyra go. He'd seen the pain in her eyes, yet he'd let her drive away on her own.

He should have said something.

But he hadn't, choosing instead to protect himself and his heart. From what? Claiming something amazing? A chance at the happiness he'd been searching for so long?

Idiot.

He stepped into the elevator, stabbed the appropriate button, then drifted to the back of the car, still thinking. He'd been afraid, he admitted. Too damn afraid to risk his pride by admitting to Kyra that he felt something for her.

Something?
Damn it, even in his own thoughts, he was hedging. He straightened up at that realization. Hell, he could hardly admit it to himself. What the hell kind of coward did that make him, anyway?

“I don't feel
something,
” he murmured, “I
love
her.”

“Excuse me?” The same man half turned to look at Garrett.

“I wasn't talking to you,” he snapped, a little embarrassed to be caught declaring his love to an almost empty elevator.

“Oh. Well who…?” He glanced around the otherwise empty elevator car.

“Don't you have some work to do?” Garrett demanded irritably.

“Sure. I mean, uh, yes, sir. You bet.” He pushed a but
ton on the elevator control panel, and as soon as the door opened, the man bolted.

When it closed again, Garrett paced the claustrophobic elevator like a tiger in a too small cage.

He loved her.

Why the hell hadn't he seen it? Admitted it?

“Why didn't I tell her?”

Idiot.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator and hit his head against it. So he'd have had to risk his pride. So what? What the hell was pride worth if he was alone and miserable?

No, he'd found something with Kyra, he realized as the elevator slid smoothly to a stop at his floor. When the door opened, he exited the car and, brain still racing, stalked past Carol's desk without a glance at her, to enter his own office.

He tossed his briefcase onto the closest chair and kept walking until he was in front of the wall of windows, staring out at the Texas sky. “It wasn't just one night,” he murmured, wanting to hear the words aloud. “It was more. And with any luck, it could be everything. I have to tell her I love her. Make her listen.”

“Mr. Wolff?”

Irritation leaped to life inside him. “I don't want to be disturbed, Carol,” he said, not taking his gaze from the sweeping view in front of him.

He heard the door click quietly shut a moment later, so when he turned around to find the woman still in the office, he was surprised—and angry.

“Not now, Carol,” he repeated.

His admin didn't move. Instead she stared at him through wide, horrified eyes. When she started toward the desk, her steps were shaky, as if she was having to force her body to function at all. “You
love
her?”

He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck and fought for calm. “Carol, I think you should go back to your desk.”

“I can't believe this,” she muttered, shaking her head, keeping her stunned gaze on him in utter disbelief.

Garrett didn't have the time or the will to deal with Carol's little obsession. What had Kyra called her? A pit bull? “I'll buzz you if I need something.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

Floored, Garret blinked at her for a second or two.
“What?”

“That slut, Kyra Fortune,” Carol said, hissing the words through gritted teeth. “Did you sleep with her?”

Icy-cold rage poured through him like a tidal wave. Garrett glared at her and fought the urge to toss her out on her ass. “That's none of your business. I think you should leave, Carol. Now.”

“You did.” She snorted a harsh laugh and shook her head wildly. Her eyes were overbright and her mouth moved rapidly, though no words were coming out. Finally, though, she started talking again, and once she started, he couldn't shut her up. “Why would you choose
her
when
I'm
right here? Waiting for you?”

Whoa.

Garrett stared at the woman he'd thought he knew so
well. She'd been an excellent assistant, organized, disciplined. And he'd never looked past that before. His fault? For not paying closer attention, yes. Realizing that mistake was the only thing that kept his voice cool and even.

“Carol…”

“I love you,” she said, moving fast now to the edge of the desk, where she planted her palms and leaned toward him. “I've always loved you. Didn't I help you get rid of those other bitches? They were never good enough for you. I found out, didn't I? I saved you.”

Her eyes were still wild, but there was something else there, too. Almost a feverishness. As if some control inside her had finally snapped and a dam had burst, releasing stored-up vitriol in wave after wave.

“Don't you see?” she said, coming around the edge of the desk, holding her hands out toward him, a greedy, grasping light in her eyes, “we belong together. It's always been just us. You and me. I can make you happy. I know how. You don't want that Fortune slut. Especially now.”

A sense of protective fury ignited inside him at the slurs she was throwing at Kyra. But Carol was so far over the edge now, she didn't notice his anger. She was too wrapped up in her own need.

Garrett flinched at the irrationality in her eyes, but forced himself to listen, to get everything he could from her, though he wanted to give in to the fury rippling through him.

“Why especially now?” he asked, and grabbed her
hands in both fists when she would have wrapped them around his neck.

She tipped her head to one side and gave him a beatific smile. “Because she's going to be arrested. I've taken care of it. She'll be a suspect in the monopoly charge,” she assured him, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I told the reporter about the merger and the slut's promotion. I did it for you. She won't bother you again. I know how angry she makes you. Well, now she'll be fired. She won't be here to bother you anymore. To bother us. You can count on me. Always.”

A sinking sensation flooded him. Carol had more problems than he could deal with, and truthfully, he didn't really care about her mental health. All he wanted now was to get to Kyra. To tell the government investigators what Carol had done.

But he needed proof.

“Carol, damn it, don't you know what you've done?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Of course she didn't know. “Thanks to you
I'm
going to be investigated, too. Because that reporter you fed your lies to took the story and ran with it. The man's built a house of cards out of half-truths and innuendos, and both Kyra and I are standing on top of it. Along with all of the executives here at Voltage.” He gave her a shake. “Don't you get it? You've ruined me. All of us.”

Her eyes cleared, focused, then welled up with tears. “That's not what I meant to do,” she insisted, pulling her hands free of his and pushing them through her hair. “I only meant to help. To get rid of that bitch before she
could hurt you like the others did. I love you, Garrett. I want to make you happy.”

He shook his head in disgust and took a step away from her to keep from shaking her until her teeth rattled. This woman had caused so much trouble, it was almost hard to believe.

“I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear it,” she said, tears coursing down her face, leaving black smudges beneath her eyes. “I'll do whatever you say to make up for this. I only want to help.”