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Authors: Linda Howard

Tears of the Renegade (24 page)

BOOK: Tears of the Renegade
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Susan heard the question, the intent in his voice, and she turned to him. “Yes,” she said drowsily, reaching out for him.

He took her gently, slowly, holding the world at bay while they loved each other. When it was done he leaned over her, his weight supported on one elbow, his eyes very clear and demanding. “Stay with me. Don't go back to the office. I'll take care of you, in every way.”

Tears blurred her eyes, but still Susan managed a smile for him. As the salty liquid seeped from the corners of her eyes, she said shakily, “I have to go back; I can't just turn my back and walk away from everyone who's depending on me.”

“What about me? How can you turn your back on me?” His words hit her hard, and she flinched.

“I love you, but you don't
need
me. You want me, but that's entirely different. Besides, I don't think I have what it takes to be a mistress.” She reached up and stroked his bearded cheek, her mouth trembling. “Please, take me home now.”

Silently they dressed in their damp, incredibly wrinkled clothing, and Cord began the torturous drive, detouring time and again as their way was blocked by fallen trees or downed power lines. They passed utility crews who were hard at work, trying to get new lines up, and in some cases new poles. The sounds of chain saws split the peaceful morning air as men began cleaning up the debris. What was normally a fifteen-minute drive took well over an hour, but finally Susan was tumbling out the Blazer's door into Emily's arms. The older woman's worn face was tight with concern.

“My lands, just look at the two of you,” she breathed, and tears sparkled in her eyes.

Cord managed his devilishly casual smile. “I think we look pretty good for two people who've been lying in a ditch.” Actually, every muscle in his body was protesting, not only from sleeping on a hard, cramped surface, but from the beating he'd taken from the hailstones. For the first time he saw a bruise high on Susan's cheekbone, and he reached out to touch it with his thumb. She stood very still under his touch, her eyes filled with pain and longing.

Emily wiped her tears away, and hustled them both inside, bullying them shamelessly now that she knew they were safe.

“Both of you get upstairs right now and take a hot shower, and toss those filthy clothes out so I can wash them—”

“I'll be leaving in a minute,” Cord interrupted her. “I've got to see if I can get to the cabin and check for damage. But if you have any coffee brewed, I'd appreciate some.”

She brought him a cup and he sipped it gratefully, the hot liquid sending new life into his body. Susan stood watching him, her arms limp at her sides, wanting to do as he said and go with him, forget about everything. Without knowing that she had moved, she found herself in front of him, and without a word he set the cup aside and folded her tightly in his arms. He kissed her roughly, almost desperately, as if he would imprint his possession on her mouth, and as Susan clung to him she felt the acid tears burning down her cheeks.

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he soothed, lifting his lips at the salty taste. With his fingertips, he wiped her cheeks dry; then he framed her face between his big hands and held it turned up so he could see into her drowning eyes. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”

She couldn't say anything, so he kissed her again, then released her. He gave Emily a swift hug and left, not once looking back.

Susan jammed her fist against her mouth, trying to hold
back the sobs that shook her, but they burst out anyway. Emily led her upstairs and helped her undress, then took away her soiled clothing and laid out fresh garments while Susan stood under the shower and cried.

She knew there were a thousand things that needed doing, but she couldn't summon any interest in any of them. She wanted only to curl up on her bed and cry until she couldn't cry any more. It was all just too much; she couldn't fight any longer. It was a measure of her willpower that she had controlled her tears by the time she left the bathroom; she sat down and dried her hair, then applied a careful blend of makeup to hide the traces of her tears. After dressing in the casual slacks and shirt that Emily had put out for her, she went downstairs for the meal that she knew Emily would have ready. She wasn't hungry, but eating was a necessity that she'd been neglecting lately, all to no good. She wouldn't be able to keep the corporation from bankruptcy, even if she divested herself of everything she owned except her clothing, then held a yard sale to get rid of even that.

She sat on the patio all day, soaking up the sun, dozing, thinking, but her thoughts only went in circles and produced nothing. She called Imogene and explained why she wouldn't be at the office that day; she had no idea when Cord would be able to get the Audi back to her, but she found that it was the one bright spot she could see right now: She would be able to see him again when he did bring it to her.

She was probably a fool not to have taken him up on his proposition, she thought tiredly. She should just forget about tomorrow, about all the duties and obligations that she'd always served; she should go with Cord and take what love she could get from him. He cared; she knew he did. Perhaps he didn't love her, but she knew that he'd offered her more than he'd ever offered any other woman, except Judith. Poor,
hurt, confused Judith, who was now the point of all this enmity years after her death. Because everyone had failed her, because she'd died, Cord was trying to make it up to her now, to get revenge for her, and for himself, perhaps, so he could be at peace.

She'd told him that she didn't have what it took to be a mistress, but what did it take, really, except a woman in love? She thought longingly of spending every night with him, of traveling around the world beside him. She'd always been a woman who was happy with her hearth and home, but for Cord she would learn to wander, and lay her head on a different pillow every night if that was what he wanted.

It was only a matter of time, anyway, before the life she knew was all over. She had failed; she couldn't pay the loan.

When Cord still hadn't brought her car back by the next morning, Susan called and asked Imogene to pick her up; there was nothing more she could do, but she would continue to handle the office and make the myriad decisions that still had to be made every day. The ship might sink, but she wouldn't make a confused mess of it. Dignity and grace in defeat, that was the ticket.

Giving herself pep talks didn't help much. She was agonizingly aware that she'd lost on both sides. She'd tried to heal the rift in the family, but instead it had grown deeper. Cord might want her, care for her, but how could he ever trust her? He'd asked her to stay with him, but instead she'd given her aid to Preston. Knowing that Cord was wrong didn't ease the hollow ache inside her.

She had to face everyone at the office, where they had all somehow heard that she'd almost been caught in a tornado. Several tornadoes had ripped through Mississippi that night, and one close to Jackson had hit a residential area, leaving two people dead, but her acquaintances and employees were only
interested in the local one, which had missed all the populated areas and destroyed only trees and newly planted crops. She managed to be very casual about it, and her lack of detail soon killed their interest.

When she went home that night she found the Audi there, and disappointment speared her. Why couldn't he have brought it when he knew she would be home? But perhaps he was avoiding her. She stared at the car for a long moment before thanking Imogene for the ride.

Imogene reached over and patted her hand. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Anything I can say to Cord? I know you're not happy, and I feel like it's all my fault.”

“No, it's not your fault,” Susan denied, managing a smile. “I made my own decisions, so I imagine I'll have to live with them.”

Emily was still waiting, and she made a pretense of cleaning up the kitchen while Susan ate, but Susan had a feeling that she had caught on to Susan's habit of disposing of the food instead of eating it. As she dutifully ate the last bite, Emily nodded in satisfaction. “Cord told me to make certain you were eating. You're too thin. This business is tearing you apart, and I'm ready for it to end.”

“It won't be long,” Susan sighed. She hated herself for asking, but she had to know. “Did he say anything else?”

“He said he lost one of his trees, but it fell away from the cabin, and there's hail damage to the roof, but other than that everything came through the storm okay.”

“That's good.” It wasn't personal news, but it was better than nothing. She refrained from asking if he'd looked tired.

Emily had just left when Imogene phoned. “Susan, can you come over?” she asked, urgency filling her voice. “Preston's back, and he's found out something about Cord!”

“I'll be right there.” Susan dropped the phone and ran to
get her purse. Something about Cord? Her heart clenched. Had he done something illegal? Whatever it was, if there were any way, she'd protect him. No, it couldn't be anything illegal; he was far too visible, and he made no attempt to disguise his identity. It was far more likely that he'd crossed some powerful people. Preston might plan on using his knowledge against Cord, but she'd make certain that Cord knew all about his plans.

As she drove over to Blackstone House she was hardly aware of the turns she took, or the speed at which she traveled. Her heart was slamming wildly in her chest, hurting her ribs. She'd been longing for Preston to come back, but now that he had she could only fear that he'd try to hurt Cord in some way.

Preston looked surprisingly normal when he opened the door to her as she ran up the steps. He was casually attired; his tan was deeper, and he looked relaxed. He was startled when he saw her. “Good Lord, Susan, you've lost a good ten pounds. What've you been doing?”

She brushed his comment aside. “It doesn't matter. What have you found out about Cord?”

He ushered her into the den, where Imogene was waiting, and waited until she was seated before speaking. “I've been doing some detective work while I was gone,” he explained. “I wanted Cord to think that I'd chickened out so he wouldn't make any attempt to cover his tracks. It worked, thank God. He must've thought he'd won without a real battle.”

“I doubt that,” Susan interrupted. “He didn't know until the day before yesterday that you'd gone.”

He frowned. “But why? Didn't you tell him?”

Susan's eyes widened, and she sat up straight. “That's what you wanted me to do, wasn't it? You dumped all of that on me, thinking I'd run straight to him and beg for mercy. He said that was what you were doing, but I didn't believe
him.” She stared at him, her eyes clear and accusing, and he shifted uncomfortably.

“What else could I think?” he tried to explain gently. “Are you saying that I completely misread the situation?”

“I don't know; I haven't any idea how you read it.”

He turned away from her distinctly chilly gaze. “Anyway, I went to New York. I'd noticed that the prices of our stock had remained high despite the rumors that had to be going around, so it followed that someone was buying. I suspected then, but I wanted to be certain. Cord has been buying up all the stock that came on the market. He's not pushing the company into bankruptcy; he's been pushing us into selling stock, which he's been buying. He's mounting a takeover!”

A takeover! For a moment Susan was dazed; then a spurt of admiration for Cord's nerve made her laugh. “A takeover!” she giggled, clapping her hands. “All of this for a takeover!”

“I don't see that it's so funny.”

“Of course you don't! After all,
I'm
the one who's been selling stock in an effort to raise money to pay off that loan!”

Imogene went white. “Susan! Your own assets!”

Preston stared at her; then he swore quietly, and rubbed his eyes in a disbelieving manner. “Susan, we talked about that. I told you not to liquidate anything of yours.”

“You also walked off and left me in a sink-or-swim situation,” she pointed out. “I thought I had a company going under; I didn't know it was just corporate games! The stock isn't all that I've liquidated!”

He looked ill. “My God, you've done all that…and he had no intention of calling in that loan. He just wanted us to panic and sell enough to give him a majority. Susan, how much did you sell?”

“Nine percent.”

“That still leaves you six percent. I have eleven percent,
and Mother has eleven. Twenty-eight percent total. Cord has, I think, twenty-six percent. We still have a majority.”

“If his takeover doesn't succeed, he may still collect on that loan,” Imogene pointed out, but Preston shook his head decisively.

“No, that would be killing his own source of income. It didn't make sense from the beginning that he'd hurt himself financially just to get back at me, but I thought that maybe he did hate me that much. Then when the stock sold immediately whenever any shares went on the market, I began to think that it was something else entirely he was after.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Susan inquired. “Never mind; I know the answer to that. You didn't trust me because I was seeing Cord, and Cord didn't trust me because I was helping you.”

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I had no idea it would be this hard on you. I swear, I'll replace everything you sold.”

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “It doesn't matter.” She just wanted it over with.

Preston decided not to pursue the issue, because she was looking tired and dazed. “I drove out to see Cord as soon as I got in this afternoon,” he continued. “I called a board meeting for ten in the morning, and this will be put to a vote. He'll have to take his chances on snapping up any more stock before we get to it, so he knows his game is up.”

BOOK: Tears of the Renegade
9.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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