Straight From The Hip. Susan Mallery

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      “Sure. I’ll head home in a few. Tomorrow I’ve got a charity dinner, so I’m getting things done tonight.”

      Garth had been born to be a tycoon. They’d met on their first day in college, when fate had thrown them together as roommates. Garth had been a charming, good-looking eighteen-year-old who made friends easily and walked with the confidence of someone who knew he was destined for greatness. Nick had been a skinny, frightened fifteen-year-old scholarship student, in theory the smartest kid on campus, but clueless when it came to real life.

      Garth had taken one look at him and left the room without saying a word. Nick hadn’t cared. He’d been grateful to be out of the horrors of foster care and in the relatively safe world of college. That relief had ended two weeks later when a few fraternity pledges decided that beating the shit out of him would secure their place in Greek Row history.

      Garth had stopped them before they could do much more than bruise him. He’d dragged Nick back to their room and told him to stay out of trouble, then he’d left. By way of a thank-you, Nick had completed Garth’s calculus homework and left him a study cheat sheet.

      Eventually, they became friends, drawn together by proximity and similar backgrounds. Nick had grown up without parents, Garth had grown up without a father. In the four years it took Garth to get his bachelor’s degree, Nick completed a bachelor’s in petroleum engineering, a master’s and most of his Ph. D. Garth taught him how to make friends and get girls. Nick got Garth through his classes with a respectable B-plus average.

      That was a long time ago, Nick thought grimly. Back when everything had seemed possible.

      “Your friend got here,” Nick said.

      “Who?”

      “Isadora Titan. Izzy. The one you told me about.”

      Nick had taken on Izzy at Garth’s request. One of Garth’s former assistants had gone to work for Skye Titan and Garth had pushed her to suggest that they consult Nick. Garth had kept his name out of it, though. To hear him tell it, the Titans were his business competitors and he needed them in good shape so that they could continue to challenge him at work.

      Nick knew better, though. Garth was one of the good guys—always had been. And he hated taking credit for anything nice, if only to preserve his reputation.

      “So how’s she doing?” Garth asked.

      “She’s having a tough adjustment.”

      “I would imagine getting used to being blind takes time. You’ll work your magic. That’s what you do.”

      “It’s not magic. It’s reality. She needs to get her head in the game. Otherwise she won’t have the surgery that could restore her sight.”

      “Better you than me,” Garth told him. “I don’t have the patience.”

      “Most days I don’t, either.”

      “Still, you’re doing it. Thanks for that. I know you didn’t want to do this, but it’s important. Just don’t let them know she’s there because of me.”

      “Your reputation as a ruthless bastard in business and life will stay as solid as ever,” Nick joked.

      “A reputation based on reality,” Garth reminded him. “You see the new Car and Driver? What is it with those guys and BMW? As far as they’re concerned, the Germans can’t build a bad car.”

      “Not everyone has a thing for old British cars that never run.”

      “Not old,” Garth corrected. “Classic. There’s a difference.”

      “Sure. It’s all a matter of how much money you want to sink into it. You can afford to have someone drive behind you with a tow truck. Most people can’t.”

      “If you’d come to work for me instead of starting your own company, you could have your own tow truck driver, too,” Garth pointed out.

      “No, thanks. I like my truck.”

      “Typical Texan.”

      “And proud of it. Go home. It’s late.”

      “Yeah, I will. See you next time you’re in town?” Garth asked.

      “Sure. I’ll call.”

      Nick hung up and returned his attention to the computer.

      So much had changed since that first meeting with Garth, he thought grimly. Too much. They’d shared a lot over the years. A lifetime. The one thing he’d never asked his friend was how well he slept at night. Had Garth conquered the past or did he, too, wake to the sound of the screams?

      GARTH DUNCAN REPLACED the receiver and turned his chair so he could see the Dallas skyline. Lights beckoned from dozens of other offices, all several stories below his own. No one else had as high an office or perfect a view. He’d made sure of that.

      It had taken a long time…nearly twenty years…but he was finally ready to destroy the Titans. Everything was in place. The lines were set. It was just a matter of reeling ’em in. Even Izzy had cooperated and become a player. That damned explosion.

      Who would have thought fate would be on his side?

      He knew the Titan sisters believed he was behind what had happened at the oil rig. But he wasn’t. His destruction of the Titan empire was subtle, untraceable. He wasn’t interested in bodies, he counted his victories in dollars and bragging rights. He wanted Jed Titan broken and shunned by the society he valued. If the Titan sisters lost everything along the way, better for him.

      Who had arranged the explosion? The investigation wasn’t complete, but Garth was confident the authorities would find that the blast wasn’t an accident. Coincidences like that didn’t just happen. Someone had done it on purpose. To put the blame on him? Or was there another Titan enemy looking to hurt Jed’s family?

      Either way, he would find out. And in the end, he would take everything from Jed Titan and not have a single regret.

      Well, maybe one.

      He hadn’t wanted to use Nick. But when Izzy had turned up blind, the opportunity had been too tempting to ignore. When Nick figured out he was being played, he wouldn’t be happy. Garth was counting on their years of friendship to see them through.

      Besides, it was worth the risk. He had to win. Win at any price. Even the trust of the man who had once saved his life.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      IZZY SPENT a restless night. Her skin felt hot and two sizes too small. Her head ached and she was hungry. She got up while it was still dark and pulled the chair from the small desk toward the window. Eventually she saw light, then she could make out greenery and the barn in the distance. For someone who could actually see things, it was probably a great view.

      She showered and got dressed, still not sure what she was going to do. While her sisters had probably thought there were no other options, Izzy refused to let them do this to her. It was her life—if she wanted to spend it doing nothing, that was up to her. СКАЧАТЬ