What a Rich Woman Wants (14 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Lesley parked her car and walked the familiar path to Niko's front door. It was dark out, and the streetlamps had only just flickered to life. She knocked and waited, but there was no answer. His car was in the driveway, but it seemed he wasn't home. She knocked again, fighting her sense of disappointment, willing him to be there.

“Lesley.”

Lesley turned quickly and flattened herself against the stucco. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Niko.” Relief made her voice breathy. A tiny nervous laugh escaped her. “You scared the life out of me.”

She took a step toward him. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Oh. Well, here I am.”

He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Lesley stepped forward and took it. “Aren't we going inside?”

“We'll see.”

He led her around the side of the house, through the damp grass. Water droplets dripped off a bottlebrush tree. Frogs were in the middle of a round of croaking choruses.

Niko opened a screened door for Lesley. She stepped inside and stopped. “Oh.”

Niko tried to see the space through her eyes. Were the candles too much? The fountain tinkled gently in one corner. He nudged her forward.

“I didn't know this was here.”

Of course you didn't. You never get past the bedroom.

“Have a seat.”

Lesley perched on the edge of one of the cushioned chairs.

“I made tea.”

“Tea?”

“Yes. Tea.” Niko poured some from the pot into small mugs and handed one to her. “Try it.”

Lesley took a sip and set the mug back on the table. Niko held his mug in one hand and relaxed in his chair. He enjoyed throwing Lesley off balance. He'd ceded too much control of their relationship, but that was about to change. Either that or this, whatever this was between them, was over.

Niko sipped the Oriental green tea with spicy notes and a hint of orange, and waited.

The CD he'd selected of simple instrumental melodies played softly in the background. He loved unwinding here, especially after one of the hard rains. He found the steady drip of water from the gutters and the trees, mingled with the frogs' voices, relaxing.

“What's this about?” Lesley finally asked. She'd been watching him the entire time, probably trying to gauge his mood. He knew she wouldn't tiptoe around but would get straight to the point.

He lowered the mug. “I thought we could spend some time together. Talking. Getting to know each other.”

“We already know each other.”

“In bed.”

“That's enough.”

“Is it?”

“Isn't it?”

“Not for me.”

“Oh.” He didn't miss her sigh of disappointment.

Niko leaned forward. “I want more.” Direct was the only way to go at this point.

“Oh.” Now she sounded defeated.

“If you were looking for sex with somebody, no strings attached, you picked the wrong guy.”

“Oh.”

“Look, I like you.”

Her gaze met his, but even in the candlelight he could see caution in her eyes.

He plowed ahead. “I like everything about you. I like trying to figure out what makes you tick. But I'm not your toy. I'm not here to scratch your itch whenever you're in the mood. You don't want to pursue whatever this is we've got going, that's your choice. You know the way home.”

“Wow.” Her chin came up. “Police brutality.”

He thought he saw a hint of a smile there. “Only when necessary.”

“I never meant to…use you. I just…oh, this is so embarrassing.”

“What? What's embarrassing?”

Lesley shook her head. She reached for her tea and took a sip. Her hand wasn't quite steady when she set it down. “We come from such different places,” she said thoughtfully, glancing at him.

“We're both right here,” he pointed out.

“I don't see how this could work.”

“Maybe it won't,” he conceded.

She sighed, giving in a little. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Everything. Pick a topic.”

“It'd probably be better if you picked one.”

“Okay then. Ricky. What's the story there?”

Lesley pressed back in her chair as if he'd slapped her. She stared at him, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you want me to tell that story, I'll need something stronger than tea.”

On impulse during his last food-shopping expedition, Niko had sprung for a four-pack of individual servings of white wine. They were outrageously priced, though certainly not of the quality Lesley was used to. He'd stowed them in the refrigerator, annoyed with himself for thinking he'd ever have a reason to open even one of them. Lesley wasn't exactly high maintenance, but she was…expensive.

He and Lesley might be worlds apart, but their worlds kept colliding. Like two spheres floating separately in the universe whose boundaries overlapped and interconnected. They moved closer and closer together until one fit perfectly into the other. After the explosion they went back to floating separately, each in its own distinct orbit—until inevitably they came together again.

Niko knew he was overthinking this, whatever this was with Lesley, but he couldn't help the way he was wired. There was something there, something more than their agreed-upon quid pro quo, something more than sex. Lesley must think so too, or she would have turned around and left by now.

Niko returned with a glass of wine for her and a beer he didn't really want for himself. Lesley took a sip. She held the glass up and looked at it in the dim light. “Not bad. I'm surprised you have wine.”

“I bought it for you.”

Their gazes locked. Whatever Lesley thought of his admission, she didn't comment on it. Instead she took another sip. It seemed to strengthen her resolve. “Six years ago, a little more than that now, I suppose, I was married to Steven. He was an assistant with the state attorney's office. I was learning to run my father's companies. We had a suite in my parents' home, along with the domestic staff that comes with it. Specifically, we had a maid. Maria.

“I traveled quite a bit with my father. It was always the plan that I would take over his position as CEO and he'd remain as chairman of the board for the Robinson Group. I had a lot to learn and my father to show me the ropes. I loved it. I was happily married. Steven and I both had careers. We lived on the beach, had a busy social life. We had it all,” she added softly, sadly, before she drank some more wine.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes? That's what happened. Only it was more like three times three.

“I discovered Maria was pregnant about the same time my father suffered a massive stroke. I don't know how she hid her pregnancy or if I was just that unobservant. I missed what had been going on in my own house right under my nose.” Lesley sighed and peered into her wineglass.

“My father was so ill. I was crazy with worry, but I had to step in and take his place in the company. I didn't have a choice. Maria's baby came early and he was born with heart problems. He needed surgery and treatment right away. Maria's work visa, however, had expired. The deportation process had already begun.”

“They wouldn't make an exception? For a new mother with a sick baby?”

“You'd think they would, wouldn't you? I did what I could, but frankly I was overwhelmed. Her staying or going wasn't high on my list of priorities. She begged me to take care of a sick, helpless baby. I didn't know how to refuse. None of it was his fault. I felt sorry for her. She went back to El Salvador and I kept Ricky.”

“What about the father?”

Lesley swallowed a gulp of wine. She laughed bitterly. “Maria wouldn't tell me who the father was. I thought perhaps she didn't know. I didn't push it. When I told Steven what had happened, that I'd agreed to take custody of the baby, he went nuts. I'd never seen him behave like that before. That's how I knew.”

“He's Ricky's father.”

Lesley pointed a finger at Niko and drained the rest of her wine. She set the glass down.

“You got rid of Steven and kept Ricky.”

“I didn't consciously plan to at the time. Keep Ricky, that is. Steven certainly didn't want him. Turns out Maria didn't either. At least not then. But I couldn't turn my back on him. I felt…responsible somehow.”

“Want some more wine?” Niko asked.

“No. I should go.” Lesley stood and so did Niko.

He slid his arms around her waist. “Don't go.”

“You probably think I know what I'm doing, that I have it all under control. Everyone thinks that. The truth is, I'm a mess.” She tried to smile. She put a finger over his lips. “Sshhh. Don't tell anyone.”

He gazed into her eyes. “I think you're incredible.” He sifted her hair through his fingers.

“Niko, don't.”

“Don't go.” He bent and brushed his lips against hers.

“Niko.” She sighed. He moved closer and she slid her hands down his chest.

“Don't go,” he whispered again. His mouth moved along her jaw to that sensitive spot below her ear.

Her knees went weak. Every time Niko touched her like this, she came alive. Sometimes she felt like Sleeping Beauty the way she'd been living the past several years. Existing. Functioning. But not really feeling anything. Everything inside her had gone to sleep, held there by the brittle shell she'd created to keep it all together.

But Niko had broken through that shell, and she'd caved so easily it astonished her. No one else had been interested or even tried to get past her flimsy defense system. She didn't know if Niko had tried very hard either. With him it had just happened. Instinctively she wanted to trust him. She wanted…she hadn't figured out what exactly she wanted from him yet. So she'd tried to keep it simple. Keep it sexual. Even though she knew there was more to it. Leave it to Niko to know it too and to push her to the next level.

Very few people knew what she'd just told him. There were whispers, certainly. Rumors and gossip at the time. Speculation. But the Robinsons circled the wagons. Steven certainly had no reason to brag about his indiscretion. He had a reputation to rebuild and a career to save. Maria was of no consequence. Lita could be trusted, and Mitzi? Well, who knew whether Mitzi shared confidences with some of her women friends? Lesley hoped not. She hoped her mother knew better.

Lesley had lost a husband and a housekeeper and gained a son. She threw herself into running the Robinson Group, overseeing her father's care, Ricky's care, her family's well-being. She'd lost part of herself along the way. She saw that now. But somehow, being with Niko like this made her feel whole again. Like she was reforming into the complete person she'd been before she fell into that Sleeping Beauty state six years ago.

“Are we done talking?” she whispered against Niko's ear. She let her fingertips run along the back of his head before she wrapped her arms around his neck. She loved the press of his body against hers, all muscle and man.

In answer he kissed her, a long, sensual kiss filled with gentleness and carnality. This was what she loved…loved?…she'd worry about that later—about Niko.

He maneuvered her through the house. Bits and pieces of their clothing came off along the way. Her panties were the last thing to go before she landed on the bed. Niko shucked his shorts and underwear and joined her.

Hands, mouths, tongues. They never stilled, touching each other everywhere until they were joined together. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. She hadn't come yet. Niko knew it. She was vaguely disappointed because his previous policy had appeared to be “ladies first”.

But this, this was driving her crazy. Not that she wasn't enjoying it or participating. She sucked his tongue and angled her body against his. Excitement built, but oh, why were men and women created this way? There wasn't enough…friction…where she needed it to be. It wasn't direct enough…it wasn't… Oh,
whoa
.

Her thoughts went spinning in another direction when Niko ended their kiss. He pressed her knees out, away from his body, opening her to him. He slid against her in an entirely new way. She shivered in delight. It didn't take much before she arched against him and he sank back deeply inside her, swallowing her moans of ecstasy with a kiss.

Afterward they lay tangled together. Lesley had dozed off briefly. Maybe Niko had too, but she was always aware of time marching along. The last thing she wanted to do was leave this bed. Put her clothes back on. Drive home. Pretend she'd been there all night and that it was just another normal day.

“Stop it.” Niko's sleepy-sounding grumble startled her.

She hadn't moved. Hadn't made a sound. “What?”

He turned on his side and drew her into his embrace and spoke into her hair. “Stop thinking about what time it is.”

“I can't help it.”

He pulled back. She could sort of see him looking at her in the dim light while he brushed the hair back from her face. “I can give you something else to think about.”

Then he was rolling onto his back with her on top. “Yes,” she agreed, smiling at him. “You certainly can.”

Chapter Sixteen

Lesley glanced through the stack of correspondence her assistant had dropped off. Jessica efficiently sorted all the mail that arrived at the office and brought anything that required Lesley's personal attention when she arrived each morning.

Lesley had her own sorting system once she received the mail, prioritizing action items from those which only required reading. The last piece of paper she picked up was correspondence from a bank in Texas. Jessica had attached a note indicating that she'd done her best to resolve the issue herself, but the bank manager would speak only with Richard Robinson or someone authorized to act on his behalf.

Lesley frowned at the letterhead. As far as she knew, neither her father nor the Robinson Group had any dealings with Waco Community Bank & Trust, yet an account number was mentioned and the letter was addressed to Richard.

It was a mistake of some sort surely, but Lesley decided the quickest way to get this piece of paper off her desk was to deal with it herself. She picked up the phone and dialed.

Ronald Ward took her call without delay. “Ms. Robinson. Thank you for calling.”

“You're welcome, Mr. Ward, but I believe there's been a mistake. To the best of my knowledge, neither my father nor our company has any business with your bank.”

“Ah, yes. I see. Before we continue, may I ask, are you in fact authorized to speak on your father's behalf on personal matters?”

“I have a power of attorney, yes. I'm authorized to handle all of his affairs, both personal and business. I can email you a copy if you'd like.”

“Yes, please.” He rattled off his email address. Lesley brought up the document and sent it from her laptop.

“Got it,” he said after a minute. “Everything looks to be in order. Could you, just as a precaution, give me your father's social security number and date of birth?”

Lesley rattled them off from memory. “Mr. Ward, I'm rather busy. I'd appreciate it if we could clear up this misunderstanding as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, of course, Ms. Robinson. But there is no misunderstanding. Your father opened an account at our bank in June 1990.”

“Are you certain?”

“Quite certain, yes.”

“I'll check with our accountant, of course, but I don't recall seeing any bank statements for this account. I'm not aware of any deposits to it either.”

“Oh, there haven't been any deposits since the original one when the account was opened. It's a non-interest-bearing account, so 1099s wouldn't be issued. All of the correspondence, such as it was, was in fact handled by Mark Whitcomb, a local attorney. Sadly, Mr. Whitcomb passed away last month, or I assume you'd have heard from him about this matter.”

“I'm still not clear, Mr. Ward. Are you saying my father opened this account in 1990 and then simply left it in your hands and that of this local attorney?”

“Yes, well, I wasn't actually employed here in 1990. I came on board several years later, but I've reviewed the history of the account and your assessment is correct.”

“I don't understand,” Lesley continued, intrigued now. “What was the account for?”

“That I couldn't say,” Ronald Ward answered. “All I can tell you is that on the first of every month, a transfer was made to a bank in El Salvador.”

Lesley's mouth went dry. “Ex-excuse me. El Salvador, did you say?”

“That's correct.”

“Do you happen to know who the money was transferred to? Was there a name on the account in El Salvador?”

“Yes. The name on the account was Elena Delgado.”

“Delgado?” Lesley echoed in a strangled whisper.

“Correct. When the funds were depleted, I sent notice to Mr. Whitcomb asking if we should close the account.”

“And?”

“Mr. Whitcomb didn't respond. I tried on more than one occasion to contact him without success before I learned of his passing. I made inquiries with the bank in El Salvador. The account there had been closed, perhaps because no further transfers had been made. I then had no recourse but to attempt to contact the owner of the account, your father, to determine his wishes.”

Lesley remained silent while she tried to absorb what Ronald Ward was telling her and what it meant. After a minute, he said, “Ms. Robinson? Are you still there?”

“Yes. I'm here. I don't know what to say. Could you tell me, by chance, what the initial deposit into the account was? And how much the monthly transfers were?”

“Yes. I have that right here.” Lesley heard the shuffle of papers before Ronald spoke again. “The initial deposit was a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The transfers were five hundred dollars a month.”

“Over a period of twenty-five years.”

“Yes. That's right.”

Lesley propped her head in one hand and tried to absorb what that meant. Her father had been funneling money to Maria's mother since Maria's infancy. Maybe even before that. There was only one reason that Lesley could think of why he would do that.

“Shall I close the account then?” Ronald asked.

“Yes. Please do.”
And let's never speak of this again.

“I'll take care of it. Have a pleasant day.”

“You too,” Lesley replied automatically before she hung up.

A pleasant day? Not likely. The implications of what she'd learned in the past ten minutes churned around in her head. She didn't want to believe it was true.