Tease Me (14 page)

“I’d ask why you don’t warn your aunt off me,” he continued, “but after getting audited
for—now what was it? Tax fraud?” He chuckled unkindly. “I don’t imagine Minerva is
taking investment advice from you these days.”

That hurt, not because he knew about it, but because it was the truth. She didn’t
ask how he’d heard about Charlie. In Sunset Shores, gossip was the world’s oldest
profession.

“It’s hard to make wise decisions when the facts are presented in a way that distorts
the risk, Damian. You forget, I’ve witnessed your convoluted scams, I know how you
suck people into investing.”

He shrugged, unmoved. “That was more than a decade ago. Things change. I’ve changed.
It’s not my fault if people believe what they want to believe. But I guess you know
all about that, right?”

“It is if you’re telling them what they want to hear when you damn well know it’s
not what they’ll get.”

“I never entered into any agreement that I didn’t feel would pan out. I’m not stupid,
Lainey.” She ignored the inference. “They were all legitimate investment ideas.”

“Ideas aren’t the same as sound business strategies. And pan out for whom? You? I’m
sure that is of great comfort to those students who gambled away their college tuition
money on one of your sure things. Some of those people were my friends.”

“Ah, the great crusader rides to the rescue. I never saw you as the white-charger
type, Madelaine Cooper.” He folded his arms and settled his weight on his heels. “In
fact, if I recall correctly, you used your business degree
to marry into Maitland money.” He stepped closer, his knowing grin making her stomach
roll. “And lost it all too. Philly girl from the southside not good enough to hang
with the bluebloods, huh, Lainey? Now you’re a divorced waitress dishing out pie to
gomers and dating crooked CPAs. Yeah, Lainey, any more brilliant observations you
care to dish out along with that pie? You’ve obviously made so much more of yourself
than I have.”

His well-aimed attack struck her hard enough to make her feel physically sick, but
she used her humiliation to fuel her anger. Hell, it ought to be good for something.
“The one thing I learned from the Maitlands is that success isn’t measured by your
bank balance alone. You could be a multimillionaire for all I know, but you’re still
a weasel.”

His grin widened further as he lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug. “Whatever
you say, Lainey. But if I’m a weasel, I’m a rich weasel. And whether or not that makes
me successful, I’m happy enough with the wealth.”

“Then why don’t you buy a yacht and take a long cruise. Go spin your stories of sure
things to people who can afford to lose.”

“I never promise a sure thing. I’ve put my business degree to good use over the years.”

She didn’t let the unspoken dig affect her this time. “I can imagine. Bigger, more
complex schemes designed to dupe more money out of more people. No, you’re not stupid,
Damian. And that’s precisely what makes you so dangerous.” His eyes narrowed. For
a split second Lainey wondered if she were risking more than her pride by provoking
him, but she didn’t know what else to do. Minerva was convinced that he was the answer
to her retirement prayers.

Instead of losing control of his temper, he straightened and moved a step away. “People
change, Lainey,” he said softly, but the words were as empty and cold as his expression.

She held his gaze. “It’s been my experience that most people generally stay the same.
The only thing that changes is one’s ability to judge their true nature.”

His smile made her toes curl until they cramped inside her sneakers. “Good, then we
understand each other. Don’t mess in my business, Lainey, and I won’t be forced to
mess in yours.”

As before, he gave her no chance to have the last word. He turned and walked away
without a backward glance, disappearing around the next corner.

Lainey released a shaky breath.

“I can’t decide whether you’re incredibly gutsy or incredibly stupid.”

Lainey shrieked and spun around. “Tucker!” She clutched her chest, certain her heart
was about to burst out of it. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop creeping up
on me.”

He took a step closer, looking as fiercely protective as he had back in the park.
Only this time his concern was aimed at her.

“And I’d appreciate you telling me what in the hell is going on around here.”

The heat in his eyes was most definitely from anger. So why was her reaction to him
completely the opposite of her reaction to Damian? The last thing she felt at the
moment was chilled or revolted.

However he affected her, she was still confused and more than a little upset by Damian.
Now was not the time to go another round with Tucker. “It doesn’t involve
you, Tucker. I’m handling it.” She tried to shove her way past him, but he grabbed
her elbows and held on tight. She couldn’t break free, but that didn’t stop her from
tugging hard. “Bullying me is not going to get you what you want.”

He drew her up tight against him, forcing her head back in order to look him in the
eyes. “What do you know about what I want?” he asked. The soft menace in his voice
and in his eyes should have alarmed her. It didn’t.

She trusted him, she realized. He was upset and frustrated, but he would never hurt
her.

She looked into his eyes and choked back a semihysterical laugh.
And how the hell would you know
,
Lainey?
she asked herself in disgust. Damian’s barbs had plunged deeper than even he had
known, ripping a jagged hole in her nice fantasy that she could truly escape her past,
letting all the fears and insecurities she’d neatly tucked away spew forth, overwhelming
her. Humiliating her.

And to complete her shameful descent, her eyes burned and filled. She would not cry,
not in front of this man. Pouring all of the unvented emotion she had into one balled-up
knot of energy, she yanked out of his grip, stumbling backward a few steps when she
succeeded. Her hands flew up to ward off his automatic attempt to help.

“Don’t touch me, Tucker Morgan. I’ve been pushed around enough for one day. I’m going
home.” This time when she walked past him he left her alone. When he silently fell
into step beside her, she didn’t know whether to scream in frustration or fall into
his arms and weep out all of her anger and indecision and self-pity. Neither was acceptable,
so she pulled herself together and continued walking in silence.

He remained silent, matching his pace to hers, giving her much-needed time to work
things through in her head. His big, solid body and quiet confidence provided a surprisingly
deep sense of comfort. It was deceptively simple, she thought as they crossed in front
of the park and headed up Main Street toward the café. Sort of like a big brother
who was smart enough to let his sister fight her own battles, but loyal enough to
make sure she got home safely.

But that analogy wasn’t quite right. He made her feel many things, none of them sisterly.
So what category did her feelings fall into? Her head kept casting him as an opponent,
yet her heart staunchly maintained that he was an ally. Why couldn’t she trust her
heart and ask him to help her? Was it his motives she suspected? Or her own judgment?
And why in the hell was she thinking about Tucker when she should be thinking of some
way to intervene in Damian’s scheme without jeopardizing her health or anyone else’s?
Her steps slowed as that last part sunk in.

Until that afternoon she’d only considered Damian fiscally dangerous. Would he actually
harm one of them? Back there on the sidewalk she’d been thinking of her own skin,
but it occurred to her now that there was a much easier way for him to get to her
than a direct threat. No, she thought immediately, he wouldn’t go that far. His forte
was smooth talking, not bone breaking. She doubted he had changed in that respect.
Even so, she stopped, her skin clammy and cold despite the warm, muggy afternoon air.

There was a sigh of impatience, then a very quiet “Let me help you.”

A gentle touch on her shoulder brought her head up.
“He’s never been the violent type. I don’t think he’d hurt one of them. Do you?” she
asked, and in doing so she realized she had made her decision. She was asking for
help. She was going to trust him. At least this far.

Tucker didn’t need to ask her to explain. He’d over-heard enough of her conversation
with Damian to have a clear idea of what had made her skin all clammy and her face
lose its color. It had finally occurred to her that she wasn’t the only one who could
get hurt. Letting her come to that conclusion on her own when he wanted to shake it
into her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. And looking into her eyes,
her trusting eyes, the most worthwhile too.

“As you said back there, he’s not stupid.” He wanted to stroke her, to see the color
come back into her skin, the impulsive spark leap in her eyes. He stuck his hands
in his pockets. “I doubt he’d risk whatever he has cooked up by harming a potential
investor. But he’s smart enough to try to make you believe he might if he thinks it
will get you to back off until he’s done working his scam.”

“It
is
a scam, Tucker.” Her eyes were bright now, but with desperation. As if she thought
he wouldn’t believe her.

“I think so too,” he said truthfully. It was the right thing to say. She relaxed,
albeit slightly. He couldn’t stand it; he slipped his hands free and held one out
to her. “Walk. Next to a long drive on a winding country road, it’s the best way to
clear the cobwebs and think.” He waited an eternal heartbeat, then she slid her hand
into his. He noticed she didn’t look at him as she turned and they began walking.
He didn’t mind. Her hand was warming in his. It was a good start.

“Weasels like Damian are pretty easy to spot but also slippery to catch.”

“Then why doesn’t Minerva see—” She broke off, and a quick glance showed that bright
spots of color had returned to her cheeks.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and wondered again at the deep, abiding need he
seemed to have to care for and protect her. These feelings weren’t remotely professional;
in fact, they were more intensely personal than anything he’d ever felt before. “Professional”
also didn’t describe the things he would very much like to do to Damian if he ever
caught the man so much as breathing in Lainey’s direction again.

It had taken incredible restraint not to step out of the shop doorway he’d ducked
into and pound Damian’s smirking million-dollar smile down his slick, little weasel
throat. If it hadn’t ended when it did, he’d no doubt be explaining himself to the
local police right about now. But if he expected her to trust herself, he had to trust
her too.

“Don’t blame your aunt, Lainey.” When she stiffened, he rubbed her knuckles with his
thumb and kept them moving at a slow but steady stroll up Main. “And don’t blame yourself.”

“She won’t listen to me.” She let out an empty laugh that made his heart ache. “I
can’t blame her. Damian is right. Who am I to judge?”

Tucker stopped abruptly and turned her to face him. “Lainey—”

But instead of the self-pity he’d expected to see, her face was a mask of determination.
“She thinks I’m over-sensitive because of what happened with Charlie. But I’m right
this time, Tucker. I know it. Damian knows it too.
He’s probably laughing himself silly right this minute. What am I going to do?”

With one finger he caressed her cheek, then tilted her tight jaw up. “Did it ever
occur to you that there might be nothing you can do?”

“No.” Her tone brooked no argument. “I can’t let her throw away her money. Not when
I know—”

“She
is
an adult. It is her decision. You can make her aware of Damian’s past and that may
change her mind. Or it might be too late even if she wanted to. He’s very likely got
her signature on something, if not a check. He’s not going to walk away from a sure
thing, either. He’ll do whatever he thinks he has to, to persuade her he’s the real
deal.”

She moved her chin away from his touch. “I thought you wanted to help me.” Her eyes
were accusing; her tone made it clear she felt betrayed.

It angered him that she thought he should be added to the list of people who’d let
her down. But what reason had he given her to think otherwise? He’d charmed, bullied,
and demanded … and when she’d finally turned to him, his first bit of advice had been
for her to walk away from her newly trusted instincts. It wasn’t what he’d meant,
it had merely been a starting point to looking at the fall range of possibilities,
but that meant little now.

And she thought
she
was a screwup with relationships. He felt like the prize champ. Chump was more like
it.

“I seem to be the one who needs to think things out first. I’m not going about this
right. I do want to help, Lainey,” he stated firmly. “And I will.”

Her eyes narrowed. “For Lillian? Or because you think we can make a difference?”

“No,” he said immediately. “Not just for Lillian. Get
this straight. I care about you, Lainey. A great deal. I think you are a warm, caring,
sweet, impulsive woman who doesn’t wait for life to come to her but goes out after
it. If someone you care about is hurting, you hurt. If you see a way to fix something,
you jump in and try to fix it.” He held up his hand to stall her retort.

She clamped her mouth shut, but her eyes were still shooting sparks of defiance.

“And sometimes when you care you make hasty decisions or jump in too quickly and it
snaps back and bites you.” The defiance was quickly tinged with hurt. He stepped closer
but still did not touch her. “You’re not the only one, Lainey. Sure we sometimes wish
we’d handled things differently in retrospect. I wish I’d handled things with you
differently. It doesn’t make them bad character traits, any more than it makes us
bad people for having them. They’re what makes you who you are. And you’re a wonderful
person, Lainey Cooper. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”