Love's Gamble (6 page)

Max nodded, looking bored, as he remained silent. “Okay, duly noted. You and Sunny want to be invited the next time Pru and I get married. We’ll keep that in mind. Meanwhile, should I pick up my trust-fund check from your office or do you just want to transfer the funds straight into my account?”

Cole answered again, and this time the smirk fell off Max’s face. In fact the more Cole talked, the more furious Max looked.

But in the end, all Max said was, “Fine. See you later.”

Then he hung up, his jaw ticking.

“What did he say?” Pru asked, her curiosity temporarily superseding her need to run from the room. “Is he refusing to give you the money again, even though you met his terms?”

“No,” Max answered, his voice tight. “He says he’ll sign off, but he has one more condition. He wants me to come meet him to fill out the paperwork.”

“That’s not a bad condition,” Pru told him. “You can do that. Isn’t his office right upstairs on the thirty-fifth floor?”

Max rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly seeming weary beyond his years. “Yes it is. But he’s not there today. He’s in Utah, on the company’s annual executive retreat near the Grand Staircase.”

Pru would have argued that this wasn’t so bad either. The Grand Staircase was only a few hours’ drive away. If Max left now, he could get there before lunch maybe.

But then Max let the other shoe drop. “He wants me to come meet him in Utah. And he wants me to bring you.”

Chapter 8

P
ru hadn’t loved the idea of being married to Max, and she was even less enthusiastic about having to pretend to be in love with him directly to his brother’s face.

Max knew this because she’d made him wait outside in his Ferrari sports car when he dropped her off at her apartment to get a shower and put on something to wear for the short trip to the Sinclair Lodge, a retreat a few miles from Utah’s Grand Staircase–Escalante National Monument. The shower and change of clothes didn’t seem to help her mood. She barely said a word in the car ride up to Utah, not even when he baited her with questions about Wedding Night Pru.

She maintained her hostile silence, breaking it only to greet the Sinclair Lodge’s manager, who handed Max a set of old-fashioned metal keys and guided them to their room on the second floor. The manager walked beside Pru up the stairs, telling her about the lodge’s history. How it had started out as a private residence for the Sinclairs, a prominent Pittsburgh steel family, but had later been converted into a corporate retreat by Andrew Sinclair, the youngest Sinclair brother, who had decided to leave behind the steel business and start his own line of specialized hotels. Ski resorts, dude ranches and retreats such as this one, which were rented out only to large groups for reunions, corporate retreats, etc.

Max only half listened to the manager’s explanation. Instead he remembered how he’d partied a few times with Nathan Sinclair, the older, much less upstanding of the Sinclair brothers, back before he’d decided to take over Sinclair Steel and become boring. Like Cole. Pru, on the other hand, was as curious about this as she seemed to be about most things, asking the manager several follow-up questions about the lodge and its amenities. He supposed that curiosity was part of what made her a natural detective.

However, after the manager left them alone, she barely glanced at the large rustic room, which they’d been told was one of the only rooms that had its own bathroom. One Max quickly availed himself of after the long drive.

When he came back out to the bedroom, she was still standing near the door, her arms crossed over the peach swing top she’d changed into, along with a denim pencil skirt. He noted that she had slipped the large diamond he’d given her at their nightclub ceremony onto her left ring finger. But he also noted that she was standing at the door, about as far away from the bed in the center of the room as she could possibly get.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” she said, uncrossing her arms.

Max, too, was eager to get the business with his brother done with, so he could get around to properly celebrating with Pru.

However, if the way Pru’s shoulders stiffened when he strung his arm around them outside their room was any indication, she had no intention of letting him get anywhere near her tonight.

“Look, this is important to me, sweetheart,” he reminded her. “You want your brother at BIT, so it’s time to play your part.”

Pru’s shoulders relaxed a little. But not much. “You’re not playing your part so great either.”

He gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean? Anybody who saw us right now would think I was into you.”

Pru stopped and shrugged off his arm before turning to face him. “No, they’d think you want to hook up with me, because
this
isn’t how a guy looks at a woman he’s seriously into...”

She schooled her face into a surprisingly dead-on impression of Max’s smirk, complete with his patented wicked gleam. Then she said, “
This
is how people look at each other when they’re really in love.”

He expected her to peg him with a simpering gaze, filled with longing—the kind that women who claimed to be in love with him had worn. The kind of gaze that had let him know in the past when it was time to let go of the current girl he was with and move on to the next one.

But Pru didn’t gaze at him like that. Instead she looked at him. Just looked at him, her eyes clear and calm, with a soft twinkle in them.

She was right. This look was nothing like the one that had come before it. He’d taken a few fists in the stomach before, and this look felt exactly like that. A total gut punch.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked her.

She let the expression slip from her face. “My parents were the real deal. I remember how they used to look at each other. Plus when I was just an amateur detective, showgirls with possibly cheating boyfriends were like seventy percent of my cases, I had to learn to tell the difference.”

She laughed, mistaking his stricken expression for performance fear. “Don’t worry. You can do it. Just don’t think about it as giving me a fake lovey-dovey look. Focus on not sounding smug when you talk to me. And when you look at me,
really
look at me.”

Max laughed and Pru’s face lit up. “Exactly,” she said. “When you look at me, just kind of laugh. But sincerely and on the inside. Got that?”

Max did get it. He looked down at her with the same soft twinkle in his eyes, wondering if she had any idea how pretty she was when she smiled up at him like this.

“Max! Pru!”

They both looked up to see Cole now standing outside the doorway of his room, which as it turned out was located directly down the hallway from theirs. Close enough for Max to see his older brother clearly now, but not close enough that Cole could have possibly heard what they were talking about. So to Cole, Max and Pru might actually have looked like what they were only pretending to be.

Two people, totally and unexpectedly in love.

* * *

“Sunny told me on the phone this morning that you and Pru made sense, and it looks like she was right. For once, you chose well, Max. I very much approve.”

Max had to work hard to keep his eyes from rolling. Judging from the self-congratulatory smirk on Cole’s face as they all sat down together in his master suite’s small seating area, Cole had fallen for their act, hook, line and sinker.

“Congratulations, you two,” he said after they were all seated, Pru and Max on the couch and him in a wingback chair made of cowhide.

Cole’s eyes floated to Pru’s wedding ring, on full display, since she was resting her left hand on top of Max’s right, which he’d placed on her knee. “That wedding was...a little unorthodox.” Cole took a moment to shoot Max a censorious look before apparently deciding to get over it. “But I’m sure we’ll be able to spin your wedding into a nice bit of publicity when we launch the Benton Inn this fall. The Benton Playboy finally settles down. End of an era.”

“Okay, sure we can do that,” Max said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cole was being polite, which naturally made Max suspicious, since everything was a chess game in Cole’s world. He never made a move without another one in mind.

“But before we sign the trust paperwork, I wanted to ask if you’d be open to a partial payout.”

And there it was. Cole playing the part of the controlling big brother again.

“No,” Max answered. “I’d like my money. All of it. Now.”

The expression on Cole’s face became a lot less polite and much colder. “This is a lot of money, Max. Millions that I have smart people diversifying and investing well for you. I’m thinking an annual payout might be the best way to make sure it isn’t wasted.”

Max met his brother’s infamously cold green gaze with eyes just as cool, if not more so. “You said if I got married you’d sign the paperwork. Were you lying?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Cole answered. “But contrary to what you seem bent on believing, I’m not your enemy, Max. You’re my brother, and I want what’s in your best interest.”

“You mean you want to control me, just like Granddad wanted to control me,” Max spat back.

Cole was the golden boy and Max was the screwup. Their grandfather had handpicked Cole and groomed him from a young age to take over the Benton Group when he died. Max, he’d just tried to manage.

Manage him as Cole was trying to do now that it was time to hand Max the reins to the money their grandfather had put in trust for him. Cole had gotten his payout at the age of twenty-five, no questions asked. On Max’s twenty-fifth birthday, he’d found out through their lawyers that his grandfather had increased the payout age on his trust to thirty-five without bothering to tell him.

His grandfather had carried little faith in Max back then, and Cole seemed to hold even less faith in him now.

“I’m not trying to control you,” Cole said, his face terse. “Maybe if you told me why you wanted all the money in one fell swoop...”

“Because it’s mine,” Max answered, cutting him off. “I wasn’t aware I needed your approval to spend
my
money.”

Cole looked at him for a hot, angry second. Then his green eyes flicked over to Pru. “Pru? Do you know what Max is planning to use the money for?”

Max glared, only now seeing the trap Cole had laid out for them. He’d known Max wouldn’t tell him. So he’d put the question to Pru. If Pru didn’t know the reason, if he was keeping secrets from her, then that would give him enough leverage to declare their conveniently timed marriage an obvious fake and refuse to sign over Max’s trust.

He began to open his mouth to say that what Pru did or didn’t know wasn’t any of Cole’s damn business—since it wasn’t. But Pru stopped him, squeezing her hand over his.

“Yeah, I do know,” Pru said, and that was all she said. She didn’t give Cole any more information than what was needed to satisfy his question.

“And do you approve of these supposed plans of his?” he asked.

Pru surprised him by answering without any hesitation at all. “Actually, I do approve, and I think you should sign over the money.”

Cole seemed jolted by her answer. He looked at her hard. So hard Max knew he was searching for any sign that she was lying to him. Any sign at all that he could use against his brother.

But Pru met his gaze without flinching, her brown gaze level and unfailing.

“Fine,” Cole finally said, sounding none too happy. “I talked to the family lawyers, and they say they’re going to put a rush on getting the trust paperwork together. It will probably be ready by your birthday on Friday.”

Today was Sunday, which raised a question. “If the papers aren’t ready yet, why did call us up here?” Max inclined his head toward Pru. “We could have gone somewhere and enjoyed a honeymoon while we waited.”

Cole also inclined his head, but to the opposite side. “Yes, you could do that. Still could if you want. Or if you’re interested, Pru, I have another case for you.”

Pru blinked in surprise. “Me?” she asked. “But I still don’t have my license yet.”

“No, but you, unlike the other licensed PIs I hired, actually found my brother. And now that you’ve married him, you’re in the unique position to help me with a problem we’re having at the Benton Group.”

Pru sat forward, the expression on her face both flattered and curious. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, as you know, over the course of the fall, we’re planning a multicity launch for the Benton Inns, a midrange brand of hotels that will cater to our customers who used to have a lot of disposable income but have now settled down with families and are more interested in saving money than spending it in our casino resorts. Our first open will be in New Orleans. But over the last few months, the launch has hit a few snags.”

Cole got up, as if this next part of the story agitated him too much to tell it sitting down. “Key Card Hotels, our largest future competitor, has somehow figured the specifics of what this first hotel needs to open its doors and has been consistently sabotaging our efforts. Outbidding us for important contracts, planting news stories with a negative spin on certain planned aspects of our first project—things like that. Many of these acts of sabotage are so specific that it’s become obvious to me Key Card must have an inside source at the Benton Group.”

Pru nodded, leaning even farther forward as Cole filled her in on the details of his case. However, Max eyed his brother, more than a little suspicious. First he’d invited them up here, knowing full well the trust papers weren’t ready to be signed, and now conveniently enough, he had “a case” for Pru.

“I don’t get it,” he said after Cole was through. “That sounds like corporate espionage. Don’t companies call in security firms to handle stuff like that?”

Cole nodded at him once, seemingly impressed that Max had even that much knowledge of how corporations actually worked. “Yes, usually that’s exactly what I would do. Call in a security firm to root out the saboteur. In fact, I still might do that. But first I want to try a different approach.”

He turned back to Pru. “When I told Sunny about your solving of the case, she said she wasn’t surprised. She said you had a one hundred percent track record for the cases you took on for the other showgirls, because you’re good at the research aspect of the job, but also because you have good gut instincts. That’s how you found Max, right?”

Pru shot a quick glance at Max, probably wondering quite rightly if this current line of conversation at all insulted him.

Max just squeezed her knee and threw her one of the looks of love she’d taught him. “I’ve never been so happy to be found,” he said to his brother, while still looking down at her.

He liked the way she blinked back at him, her hand, perhaps unconsciously, going tighter on top of his. And her voice sounded a little strained when she said, “Guts and research. It’s not the most sophisticated method, I know.”

Cole nodded. “Well, I think you might have what it takes to solve this case, too. As you may or may not know, this is a retreat for the Benton Group’s entire senior management team, nationwide. Everyone’s coming in today, and I’m pretty sure one of these top-level executives is the one responsible for leaking info to Key Card. I want you to talk to them, see if you get any gut feelings about who it might be. Of course, I’ll pay whatever fee you ask and a per diem.”

“You want me to stay here all week?” Pru repeated. She shook her head. “But how would we explain that to your team? I’m a retired showgirl, and isn’t this retreat supposed to be execs only?”

Cole answered with a small smile. “That’s where Max comes in.”