Rafe walked through the door of his study, frowning slightly as he realized he must have left it open. Perhaps Hatcher had already returned from the car.
But it wasn't Doug Hatcher standing beside the desk staring at the open file and the computer printout lying alongside. It was Margaret. One look at her face and Rafe knew she had seen too much.
He sighed inwardly. He would much rather she hadn't found out what was going on, but it wasn't the end of the world, either. She loved him and this time around she was firmly in his camp.
"What are you doing in here, Maggie? I thought you were going swimming."
She was staring at him with wide eyes. A storm was brewing rapidly in their aqua depths. "Doug said you were in here. I wanted to talk to you. But I found this instead." She gestured angrily at the open file. "What in the world is going on, Rafe? What are you up to with this Ellington takeover? Why all these references to Moorcroft?"
"It's just business, Maggie, love. I'll be finished in another half hour or so. You told me you were willing to be reasonable about the amount of time I spent on work. Why don't you go on out to the pool?"
"This is what you were working on that night I found you in here after the engagement party, isn't it? This is why Hatcher comes here to see you every day. I demand to know what is going on."
"Why?"
"Why? Because it's clear Moorcroft is involved in some way and I know you have no liking for him." Her eyes narrowed. "I also know that you're quite capable of plotting revenge. Tell me the truth, Rafe. Are you in competition with Jack to take over Ellington?"
He shrugged and sat down behind the desk. "You could say that."
"What do you mean by that? Are you or aren't you?"
Rafe closed the damning file and regarded her consideringly. She was getting mad but she wasn't going up in flames. "As I said, Maggie, this is just business. It doesn't concern you."
"Are you sure? If this really is just business as usual, you're right. It doesn't concern me. But if this is some sort of vengeance against Jack, I won't have it."
Rafe rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. His initial uneasiness was over and he was starting to get annoyed by her attitude. "You think you have to protect Moorcroft? The way you did last year?"
She flinched at that. "No, of course not. I don't work for him any longer and I don't owe him anything, but—"
"You're right. You don't owe him anything, especially not your loyalty. That should be crystal clear this time around. So let him take his chances out there in the jungle, Maggie. He's been doing it a long time, same as me."
"Rafe, I don't like this. If you're up to something, I think I should be told."
"You're a romance writer these days, not a business executive. You don't need to know anything about this."
"Damn you, Rafe, don't you dare patronize me. I don't trust you to treat Moorcroft the way you would any other business competitor. Not after what happened last year. I want to know—" She broke off abruptly, glancing at the open door.
Rafe followed her gaze and saw Hatcher standing on the threshold. He looked uncertain of what he should do next. "I'll, uh, come back later, Rafe."
"No," Rafe said. "Maggie was just leaving. Come on in, Hatcher. I want to get this Ellington thing finished today. Sit down."
Margaret hesitated a moment and then apparently thought better of making a scene in front of Hatcher. "We'll discuss this later, Rafe." She turned and stalked out the door, the elegant line of her spine rigidly straight with anger.
Hatcher stared after her, looking more uneasy than ever. "She knows about the Ellington deal?"
"She walked in here and saw the damned file lying on the desk."
Hatcher paled. "Sorry. I know you didn't want her to find out about it."
Rafe bit off a curse. "It wasn't your fault. Never mind, I'll deal with Maggie later. I can sugarcoat the facts and calm her down. Let's get back to work."
Hatcher drew a deep breath. "Rafe, I think there's something you should know."
"What?" Rafe jabbed at a key on the computer console and narrowed his eyes as a familiar spreadsheet popped onto the screen.
"There's been another leak of information."
That caught Rafe's attention. He swung his gaze back to his assistant. "Bad?"
"The latest set of offer figures. The ones we drew up this week. My inside information tells me Moorcroft has them."
"This time around we were very, very careful, Hatcher," Rafe said softly. "Only you and I knew those numbers and they existed only in this file. We wiped them out of the computer after we ran the calculations."
Hatcher studied the desktop for a long moment before he looked up. There was a desperate expression in his eyes. "You're going to have my head if I say what I have to say next, Rafe."
Rafe looked at the man he had trusted for the past three years. "Just say it and get it over with."
"There's been someone else here in your house with access to these figures for over a week. I hate to be the one to point this out to you, but the fact is the really bad leaks began after she got here."
Rafe was so stunned he couldn't even think for a moment. The accusation against Margaret was the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. He had prepared himself for something else entirely.
For an instant he simply stared at Hatcher and then he came up out of the chair, grabbed his startled assistant by the collar of his immaculate shirt and yanked him halfway across the desk. "What the hell are you trying to tell me?"
Fear flashed in Hatcher's eyes. "Rafe, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. But someone has to point it out to you. And as long as it's gone this far, there's more you should know."
"More?" Rafe's hand tightened.
Hatcher looked down at the corded muscles of Rafe's forearms and then up again. "My sources tell me she saw him shortly before leaving Seattle to come down here."
"Hatcher, I swear, I'll break your neck if you're lying to me."
"It's true," Hatcher gasped. "I've known about the meeting for a couple of days but I've been afraid to tell you. But now you're practically accusing me of being the leak and I've got my own reputation to consider. Ask her. Go on, ask her if she didn't talk to Moorcroft before she flew to Tucson."
"There's no way she would have talked to that bastard."
"Is that right? Ask her if Jack Moorcroft didn't offer her a nice chunk of change to find out what she could about what we're up to. You want to pinpoint the leak? Don't look at me. I've been your man since the day I came to work for you. I've proven my loyalty a hundred times over. Try looking close to home, Rafe."
"Damn it, Hatcher, you don't know what you're saying."
"Yes, I do. I've just been afraid to say it out loud for several days because I knew you didn't want to hear it. But you've never paid me to be a yes man, Rafe. You've always said you wanted me to speak my mind and tell you the facts as I saw them. All right, I'm doing just that. She betrayed you once and she's betraying you again."
Rafe felt himself hovering on the brink of his self-control. He hadn't been this close to going over the edge since the day he'd found Margaret with Moorcroft.
He made himself release his grip on Hatcher. Doug inhaled deeply and stepped quickly back out of reach, smoothing his clothing.
"Get out of here, Hatcher."
Hatcher glanced nervously at the file. "What about the Ellington deal? We need another set of numbers and we need them fast. We've got to make the final move within the next forty-eight hours."
"I said, get out of here."
Hatcher nodded quickly, picked up his briefcase and went to the door. There he paused briefly, his expression anguished. "Rafe, I'm sorry it turned out this way."
"Just go, will you?"
Hatcher nodded and went out the door without a backward glance.
Rafe stared for a long while at the far wall before he yanked open the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a glass and a bottle of Scotch.<
br />
Very carefully he poured the liquor into the glass and then he propped his feet on the desktop and leaned back in the chair. He took a long swallow of the potent Scotch and forced his mind to go blank for a full minute.
When he felt the icy calm close in on him he knew he had himself back under control.
"Rafe?"
He didn't turn his head. "Come in, Maggie."
"I heard Doug leave." She walked into the room and sat down on the other side of the desk. Her beautiful, clear eyes met his. "I want to have that discussion now, Rafe. I want to know what's going on and what you're planning to do to Moorcroft. Because if you're bent on getting vengeance on him for what happened last year—"
"Maggie."
Her brows drew together sharply as he interrupted her. "What?"
"Maggie, I have a couple of simple questions to ask you and I don't want any long, involved lectures or explanations. Just a simple yes or no."
"Rafe, are you all right? Is something wrong?"
"Something is wrong, but we'll get to that later. Just answer the questions."
"Very well, what are the questions?"
"Did you have a meeting with Jack Moorcroft in Seattle before you caught the plane to Tucson? Did he ask you to spy on me?"
The shock in her lovely eyes was all the answer he needed. Rafe swore softly and took another long pull on the Scotch.
"How did you know about that?" Margaret whispered in disbelief.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it bloody well matters," she shouted, slamming her fist on the desk. "I'd like to know what's going on around here and who's spying on me. I'd also like to know exactly what I stand accused of."
"Someone's been leaking information on the Ellington deal to Moorcroft. You, me and Doug Hatcher are the only ones who've had access to the file in the past few days. Just how badly did you hate my guts after what happened last year, Maggie, love? Bad enough to come back so that you could get a little revenge?"
"How dare you?" Margaret was on her feet. "How dare you?"
"Sit down, Maggie."
"I will not sit down, you deceitful, distrusting, son of a…" She gulped air. "I will not go through this a second time. Do you hear me? I won't let you tear me apart into little pieces again the way you did last time. You don't have to throw me out, Rafe. Not this time. I'm already gone."
She whirled and ran from the room.
Rafe finished the last swallow of Scotch and threw the glass against the wall. It shattered into a hundred glittering pieces and cascaded to the floor.
10
« ^ »
Rage, a fierce, burning rage that was an agony to endure drove Margaret from the study. Behind her she thought she heard the crash of breaking glass but she paid no attention. She fled down the hall to her bedroom, dashed inside and slammed the door.
She was gasping for breath, the hot tears burning behind her eyes as she sank down onto the bed. An instant later she leaped up again, hugging herself in despair as she paced the room.
How could he do this to her a second time? she asked herself wildly. How could he doubt her now?
She had to get out of here. She could not bear to stay here under Rafe's roof another minute. Margaret ran to the mirrored chest and threw open the doors. She found her suitcase, dragged it out and tossed it onto the bed. Spinning around, she grabbed her clothes and began throwing them into the open suitcase.
He didn't trust her. That was what it came down to. After all they'd each been through separated this past year and after finally rediscovering their love for each other, Rafe still didn't trust her. He was prepared to believe she'd come here as a spy.
Damn Moorcroft, anyway. If only he hadn't looked her up that day in Seattle. If only she hadn't agreed to have coffee with him.
But if it hadn't been that unfortunate incident, it probably would have been something else sooner or later. Rafe was obviously ready to believe the worst.
And apparently he had a reason to worry about a Moorcroft spy, Margaret thought vengefully. He was plotting some form of revenge against his old rival. She just knew it. She was caught in the middle again between the two men and she was furious. They had no right to do this to her.
She would take the Mercedes, Margaret told herself. The keys were on the hall table. Rafe could damn well make arrangements to get his car out of the airport lot.
It was intolerable that he had dared to question her reason for being here in Tucson. He was the one who had forced her to come down here in the first place.
Margaret tossed one sandal into the suitcase and looked around for the other. She dropped to her knees to peer under the bed and to her horror, the tears started to fall.
It was too much.
She cried there on the floor until the rage finally burned itself out. Then, wearily, she climbed to her feet and went into the bathroom to wash her face.
She grimaced at the sight of herself in the mirror and reached for a brush. She wondered if Rafe was still in the study.
It flashed through her mind that he probably wouldn't come after her a second time. No, not a chance. In his own way he had sacrificed his pride once before to get her back and that was all anyone could reasonably expect. He was, when all was said and done, a tough, arrogant cowboy who was as hard and unforgiving as the desert itself.
And she loved him.
Heaven help her, she loved him. Margaret stared at herself in the mirror knowing that if she walked out this time, he would not come after her.
There was only one chance to salvage the situation. She was woman enough to know that this time she would have to be the one who rose above her own pride.
She forced herself to think back on the past few days. She clung to the knowledge that Rafe had changed since last year. He had tried hard to modify his work habits and to realign some of his priorities. He had worked hard to please her, to make her fall in love with him.
In his own way, he had tried to prove that he loved her.
Slowly Margaret put the brush back down on the counter. Turning on her heel, she went back through the bedroom and into the hall. The first few steps took all the willpower she had. Her instinct was to turn and run again but she kept going.
She rounded the corner and saw Rafe leaning in the open doorway of the study, thumb hooked onto his belt. In his other hand he coolly tossed the keys to the Mercedes. He watched her with an unreadable expression. Margaret halted. For a moment they just stared at each other and then Rafe broke the charged silence.
"Looking for these?" he asked, giving the keys another toss.
"No," Margaret said, starting forward deliberately. "No, I do not want the keys to the Mercedes."
"How are you going to get to the airport? You expect me to drive you?"
"That won't be necessary. I am not going to the airport."
"Sure you are. You're going to run, just like you did last time."
"Damn you, Rafe, I did not run away from you last year, I was kicked out."
"Depends on your point of view, I guess."
"It is not a point of view, it's a fact." Margaret came to a halt right in front of him and lifted both hands to grab him by the open collar of his shirt. She stood on tiptoe and brought her face very close to his. "Listen up, cowboy. I have a few more facts to tell you. And you, by heaven, are going to pay attention this time."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She pushed him backward into the study, too incensed and too determined to pursue her mission to notice just how easily he went. She forced him all the way back to his chair and then she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed downward. Rafe sat.
Margaret released him and stalked around to the other side of the desk. She planted her hands on the polished wood surface and leaned forward.
"If this were a romance novel instead of the real world, this little scene would not be necessary. Because of our great love for each other, you would trust me implicitly, you see. You would know without being told that I would
never go to bed with you and then turn around and spy on you so that I could report to Moorcroft."
"Is that right? Your heroes can read minds?"
"The bonds of love make them intuitive, sensitive and insightful and don't you dare mock me, Cassidy."
"I thought I made it clear I'm not one of those modern, sensitive types."
"All right, all right, I accept the fact that this is not a romance novel and you are not exactly the most perceptive, intuitive man I've ever met."
"I'm no romance hero, that's for sure."
She ignored that. "I also accept the fact that I cannot expect you to come after me if I leave here today. You gave us both a second chance, Rafe. It's my turn to give us a third. I only hope this does not indicate a pattern for the future. Now then, let's get one thing straight. I did not make any deal with Jack Moorcroft."
Rafe waited in stony silence.
This was going to be hard, Margaret thought. Resolutely she gathered her courage. "I had not seen or heard from Jack Moorcroft since that debacle last year until he showed up out of the clear blue sky on the Saturday before I was due to come down here."
"Just a friendly visit, right?"
"No, you know very well it was not a friendly visit. He said he thought you might be plotting against him. He told me that since last year he's had the impression you were gunning for him. He thinks you're out to get him."
"I never said Moorcroft was a stupid man. He's right."
"He also said that he would give a great deal to know exactly what you were planning."
"Why didn't you mention the little fact that you'd seen him before you came down here?"
"Are you kidding? The last thing I wanted to do was mention Moorcroft to you. Keeping quiet was an act of pure self-defense. The last time I got between the two of you I got crushed, if you will recall."
"Damn it, Maggie…"
"Besides, I told him to take a flying leap. I made it clear I considered myself out of it. I did not work for him any longer. I owed him nothing this time around. I told him I was going to Tucson for my own personal reasons and that was that."