Seduction On His Terms. Sarah M. Anderson

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СКАЧАТЬ buzzing in his head became two discordant sounds. He could hear Landon snarling, Wyatts don’t ask, at the same time as he heard Jeannie say, in that husky voice of hers, There, was that so hard?

      When was the first time Jeannie had said that to him? He didn’t remember. All he remembered was that she was the first person who’d ever dared tease him.

      When he was sure he had himself back under control, he looked up. Miranda the substitute bartender wasn’t moving.

      “Now,” Robert snarled.

      With a jolt, she turned and fled.

      It felt wrong to sit in his seat if Jeannie wasn’t on the other side of the bar. Like this place wasn’t home anymore.

      Which was ridiculous because this was a bar where he spent maybe half an hour every night. It wasn’t his sprawling Gold Coast townhouse with million-dollar views of Lake Michigan. It wasn’t even the monstrosity of a mansion where he’d been raised by a succession of nannies. This was not home. This was just where Jeannie had been when he’d walked into this restaurant two years and ten months ago and sat down at this bar because he’d felt...lost.

      It had been thirty-four months since Jeannie had stood in front of him, listening while he struggled to get his thoughts in order because his mother had refused to stay with him and Landon had come for her. Everything in Robert’s carefully constructed world had gone gray, which had been good because then Robert didn’t have to feel anything. Anything but the overpowering need for the perfect drink.

      Sometimes, when Robert allowed himself to look back at that moment, he wondered if maybe Jeannie had been waiting patiently for him.

      Where the hell was she?

      Then it hit him. She’d said she had a family thing. She wasn’t here now.

      Something had gone wrong.

      The realization gave him an odd feeling, one he did not like. He liked it even less when Miranda the substitute bartender returned with a man that looked vaguely familiar.

      “Dr. Wyatt, it’s so good to see you, as always,” the man said, smiling in a way Robert didn’t trust. “I’m sorry there’s a problem. How can I correct things?”

      Robert was running out of patience. “Who are you?”

      “Julian Simmons.” He said it in a way that made it clear Robert was supposed to remember who he was. “I own Trenton’s. You’re one of our most valued customers, so if there’s a problem, I’m sure we can—”

      Robert cut the man off. “Where’s Jeannie?”

      Robert couldn’t tell in the dim light, but he thought Simmons might have gone a shade whiter. “Jeannie is taking some personal time.”

      Only a fool would think personal time and vacation time were the same thing. Robert was many things, but foolish wasn’t one of them. “Is she all right?”

      Simmons didn’t answer for another long beat.

      Something had happened; Robert knew it. Helplessness collided with an ever-increasing anger. He was not going to stand by while another woman was hurt. Not when he had the power to stop it.

      “Jeannie is fine,” Simmons finally said. “We’re hopeful that she will rejoin us in a few weeks. I know she’s your personal favorite, but Miranda is more than happy to serve you.”

      Both Miranda the substitute bartender and Simmons the restaurant owner recoiled before Robert realized he was snarling at them. “Tell me where she is. Now.”

      “Dr. Wyatt, I’m sorry but—”

      Before he was aware of what he was doing, Robert had reached across the bar and took hold of Simmons’s tie.

      Robert could hear Landon Wyatt shouting, No one says no to a Wyatt, in his mind.

      Or maybe he hadn’t heard the words. Maybe he’d said them out loud because Miranda squeaked in alarm.

      “You,” he said to the woman, “can go.”

      He didn’t have to tell her twice.

      “Dr. Wyatt,” Simmons said. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

      Belatedly, he realized he was probably not making the best argument. Abruptly, he released Simmons’s tie. Robert realized he had overlooked the path of least resistance. Instead of allowing his temper to get the better of him, he should’ve started from a different negotiating position.

      “How much?”

      “What?” Simmons winced.

      “How much?” Robert repeated. “I have frightened you and your employees, which wasn’t my intent. I like coming here. I would like to return, once Jeannie is back in her position. I would like to...to make amends.”

      Which was as close as possible to apologizing without actually apologizing because Wyatts did not apologize.

      Ever.

      Simmons stared at him, mouth agape.

      “Shall we say...” Robert picked a number out of thin air. “Ten thousand?”

      “Dollars?” Simmons gasped.

      “Twenty thousand. Dollars,” he added for clarity’s sake. Everyone had a price, after all.

      Jeannie was in trouble and he had to help her. But to do that, he had to know where she was. If Simmons refused to take the bribe, Robert had other ways of tracking her down, but those would take more time. Time was one commodity he couldn’t buy.

      The buzzing in his head was so loud that it drowned out the hum of the restaurant. He gritted his teeth and blocked it out.

      Simmons pulled his pocket square out and dabbed at his forehead. “Do you realize how many laws you’re asking me to break?”

      “Do you realize how little I care?” Wyatt shot back.

      When it came to things like abuse or murder, Wyatt knew and respected the law. When it came to things like this? Well, he was a Wyatt. Money talked.

      Simmons knew it, too. “Do I have your word that you won’t hurt her?”

      “I won’t even touch her.” Not unless she wants me to.

      The thought crossed his mind before he was aware it was there, but he shook it away.

      Simmons seemed to deflate. “There was a family emergency.”

      The longer this man stood around hemming and hawing, the worse things could be for Jeannie. Belatedly, Robert realized he did not have twenty thousand dollars in cash on him. He placed a credit card on the bar. “Run it for whatever you want.”

      After only a moment’s hesitation, Simmons took the card. “Let me get you the address, Dr. Wyatt.”

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