Be Mine Forever. Rosemary Laurey

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СКАЧАТЬ I’m not stupid! From things the Marshes said, Laran approached them to buy when the company was foundering. They don’t exactly cross themselves when they say his name, but they’d do anything he asked.” As would most of the small workforce who regarded Connor Inc. as their savior.

      He pursed his lips as if considering the possibility. “You think Laran would set up something underhand?”

      She’d have no trouble believing anything of her father’s right-hand man, but she kept that to herself. “I didn’t say that, Dad. I just think having someone other than him check this out would be a good idea.”

      He smiled. “Lizzie, you’re right; this won’t go beyond these walls. I’ll have it looked into. Get yourself unpacked, and this evening I’ll take you into Florence for dinner. Maybe we can spend a little time together.”

      “That would be great.”

      Assistant Alan was hovering in the foyer as she closed the library door behind her. “Miss Connor, I took your bags up to your room. If there’s anything else you need…”

      Everything else she needed right now was beyond the talents of eager Alan. “I’m fine, thanks.”

      Once in her old room, she kicked off her shoes, pulled a chair over to the window and, propping her bare feet up on the window ledge, gazed at the white caps and the gray ocean, and wondered why she’d come all this way to get brushed off, and how soon she could decently leave.

      “You heard?” Piet Connor knew the answer. Laran looked angry enough to spit nails or bite the nearest neck without foreplay. “I’m not sure how to handle this…”

      “I’ll take care of it. If all she has is an unlucky guess, we have no problem. If she persists in delving where she shouldn’t…” He paused. “It’s a shame we involved her.”

      Piet frowned. It was Laran who’d suggested they draw Lizzie into the operation by degrees. “It was your idea.”

      “My idea was to have it known she’d set up the system. She wasn’t supposed to unearth the alternative records and maybe jeopardize the entire setup!” He scowled. “She talked to no one else about this?”

      “She said no, but…” Piet’s stomach knotted. “Maybe she already has. To the FBI.”

      “If she had, I doubt you’d be here to discuss the matter.”

      Piet’s knees wobbled, and he was already sitting. “This is terrible! What are we going to do?” Panic rose, as if to swallow him from the inside out and engulf him and the organization he’d spent years establishing. What if word spread to his confederates? “This could be a disaster!”

      “It could,” Laran agreed, “but it won’t be. I’ll see to that.” He stepped over to the antique walnut desk and took Piet’s hand in his. “You’re worrying too much.” He held the hand to his face and listened as Piet Connor’s blood raced through his body. “Calm down, Piet.” He gently licked the skin covering the pale blue veins. “Relax. Elizabeth mustn’t sense your concern.” He lapped back and forth until the veins protruded through the skin. As Piet’s heartbeat calmed and his shoulders untensed, Laran bit.

      Piet let out a slow sigh of satisfaction, and smiled—a smile softer and more genuine than anything his four wives had ever seen. His little murmurs of pleasure were cut short as Laran stopped sucking and licked the wound to seal it.

      “You stopped too soon!” Piet protested, his body ready for, and needing, more.

      Laran shook his head, a hard light in his dark eyes. “No, Piet. We’ll consummate this after dinner. Patience.”

      Ocean watching wasn’t enough to erase the sense of menace and disorder that got worse each time Elizabeth came home. As a child she’d felt chaos and tension around her, and it had been Adela, Heather’s mother, and the second of Elizabeth’s three stepmothers who’d taught her how to protect herself from unsettling influences.

      She needed those skills now. The turmoil around her was overwhelming. If she was to stay calm and focused the next couple of days, she needed a safe refuge.

      She took two bay leaves from a small box in her suitcase and crumpled them in the four corners of the room. That done, she lit a pale gray candle, set it on the floor by the sliding-glass doors, and sat cross-legged in front of it. Breathing slowly, she concentrated on the light dancing on the narrow wick and the cleansing influence of the slow-burning flame. She shut her eyes as her mind embraced the calm.

      Some minutes later, relaxed and at peace, she blew out the candle and crossed over to the adjoining bathroom. After showering, she pulled on a fresh pair of slacks and a clean T-shirt. She picked a purple one to go with the new silver and amethyst chain she’d bought in England. A touch of mascara, and the new lipstick she’d treated herself to at the duty-free, and she was ready. She picked up her black leather coat and her pocketbook and, closing the door behind her, went slowly down the wide, curved stairway.

      Out the front door, she crossed the gravel drive to stand on the cliff edge, and watch the breakers below. She loved this spot; as a child she’d all but lived out of doors. Maybe in the morning, she’d climb down to the beach, as she had as a child, or do it the grown-up way and take the path.

      Right now, she needed to convince her father to do something about the setup in Devon. Tonight at dinner, she’d talk to him again and convince him, to at least send someone to check. Things there were so rotten, even she had found the stink. An auditor would no doubt crack the shenanigans wide open.

      She walked back toward the house. Darn! Laran was waiting, hip propped against the car, obviously all set to join them. Before she had the chance to suggest he stay behind and let her spend an evening alone with her father, Dad arrived and hustled them all into the car.

      As the sound of the engine faded down the drive, Alan took the stairs two at a time and made straight for Elizabeth’s room. His skeleton key was unnecessary; the door was unlocked. His instructions were to search the room, make copies of any floppy disks or CDs he found, and photocopy any papers. There were no papers, other than a letter from a woman named Heather. A thorough search revealed no disks or CDs, and her wallet held fewer credit cards than his own, plus a driving license and a library card.

      The letter, IDs, and cards copied and returned, he checked her rental car. He found two CDs: Aida and John Michael Montgomery. He didn’t think much of her choice of music. Just to be certain, he slid both disks into the CD player. He was right, Miss Connor’s taste in music sucked. He put one back in the player and the other in the glove compartment where he’d found it. Job done, he double-checked the house and settled down to watch a Terminator video.

      So much for a father–daughter dinner, with Laran brooding over the meal. Elizabeth wasn’t sure who she was most frustrated with—herself for failing to convince her father he really did have a potential problem, her father for brushing her concerns aside, or Laran for pretty much telling her she had no idea what she was talking about.

      The serenity she’d created by meditation, and her time on the cliff, had been zapped. If she was as stupid as they both made out, it was a wonder her father had ever trusted her to work for him. Serve him right if the Marshes were robbing him blind. She’d done her best. If he chose to ignore her, tough cookies! And with that last thought, she undressed, and got into bed.

      She woke rested, and much calmer. She’d СКАЧАТЬ