Barbara McCauley - Blackhawk's Sweet Revenge

“A scratch, that’s all.” Every nerve in her palm and up her arm came alive at Lucas’s touch. Unable to stop herself, she trembled.

“You’re freezing. Come inside.”

She shook her head, pulled her hand away. “This won’t take long. I just have to—”

“Julianna.” He frowned darkly. “Unless you’re planning to throw yourself off this balcony in a supreme sacrifice for your father, get inside now.”

She almost laughed at the absurdity of his statement, but under the circumstances, thought it best to simply do as he asked. No, she corrected, brushing past him into the living area of the suite. As he’d demanded.

She jumped when he moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Just taking your coat.” He tightened his hold, then added, “For now.”

Bristling, she held on to her coat. “I’m not staying.”

“Oh, but you are.” His hands stayed on her shoulders. “I insist.”

She knew it would be useless to argue, that he would probably only enjoy it if she did. She let him take her coat, then stepped away. The wonderful scent of oregano and basil filled the room, but her stomach only clenched at the smell of food. “Your dinner will get cold”

“Shall I order you something?” He tossed her coat over a barstool. “The food is excellent here. Especially the shrimp Alfredo and the chicken Madeira.”

She wondered how he would know that. He’d only been here since this afternoon. Long enough to turn her world upside down and inside out. “No, thank you. I have to get back.”

“When I say, Julianna. Now sit.” He gestured to the chair across from his plate. “You might not be hungry, but I’m starving. Chianti?”

Even as she shook her head, he poured her a glass of wine and pressed it into her hands. “Sit.”

Powerless to stop the humiliation, she took the chair at the farthest end of the glass dining room table. It would do no good to tell him that her father had been raging and half drunk when she’d left, that if he discovered she was gone, he’d only be more furious. And if he’d found out she’d come here...

She didn’t want to think about it. She’d deal with that later.

Lucas lifted the metal dome covering a china plate, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. Steak, baked potato, herbed vegetables. “Sure you won’t have a bite? Filet, medium rare.”

“You surprise me, Lucas,” she said without thinking. “I would have thought raw was more to your taste.”

He raised a brow, smiled slowly. “Well, well, Miss Hadley. There is still a little fight in you. But you didn’t come here to irritate me, did you? So why don’t you tell me why you did come here?”

Dammit. How could she be so stupid? The last thing she wanted to do was irritate him. Along with her pride, she took a swallow of wine. They both burned all the way down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I... it’s the land. The five acres and house by the creek.”

“What about it?” He cut into his steak, hefted a good bite into his mouth.

“That property is mine.” She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice. “It was my grandparents‘, then my mother’s. She left it to me after she died last year.”

“I already told you. Your father’s name was on the title, not yours. Along with the Double H, he signed it over as collateral to First Financial.”

“But he can’t do that.” This time it was impossible to keep the emotion out of her words. “It’s mine, Lucas. You can’t just take it.”

“Why can’t I?” He reached for his own wine, kept his eyes on hers as he lifted the glass. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“It’s useless to you. The roof leaks, the paint is nonexistent, the plumbing and electricity need repair.”

“Exactly why I plan to tear it down.”

“No.” She felt the blood drain from her face. “Let me buy it back from you.”

He leaned back in his chair, studied her carefully. “I know every intimate detail of the Hadley finances. You don’t have a checking or savings account in your own name, no credit cards. You do own a six-yearold sedan. Are you planning on selling that as collateral?”

“I’ll get the money.” Embarrassed that he knew so much about her dependency on her father, and because she thought she might explode if she sat any longer, she stood and moved to the bar, keeping her back to him as she struggled to compose herself.

“Why is it so important to you?” he asked.

Could she give him that kind of ammunition? Tell him that the house was the only loving memory she had, the only tangible proof of something that had been good in her life? Would he laugh at her, throw it back in her face? He must hate her as much as her father. His revenge would be complete, wouldn’t it, if he destroyed not only Mason Hadley, but his daughter, as well.

What did it matter if he laughed? she thought. If he threw it back at her? She had nothing to lose. He couldn’t do anything worse to her than take her house away.

She stared at her own reflection in the mirror over the bar, hated the despair she saw in her own eyes. “My father and mother lived in a small house in town after they were married. My grandparents owned all the Double H land then, and they lived in the house by the creek. My father was always gone on business, but my mother and I used to visit my grandparents almost every day. We’d work in the garden, plant flowers in the front yard, vegetables in the back.” She ran a finger over the rim of the crystal wine glass still in her hand. “I used to fish in the creek with my grandfather. My grandmother baked bread and chocolate chip cookies.”

She couldn’t bear to look at Lucas. Knew that if she did, if she saw disdain there, she’d crumble for certain. She’d started this, and she would finish. “My grandparents had both died by the time I was eight. My mother inherited all the Double H land, along with the ranch my grandfather started and a great deal of money, but the house and five acres was put in trust for me. My father was so busy spending my grandparents’ money building his new house, he let mine deteriorate.”

“Why didn’t your mother keep it up?” Lucas asked dryly.

“She tried, but my father had control of the money then. They argued about it often.” It seemed useless to point out that any argument with her father was futile. “After her car accident when I was thirteen, my mother was never the same. She never went out anymore, had very little interaction with anyone. I tried to keep my grandparents’ house up myself, but it was impossible.”

Her father had made sure of that. He’d hated her grandparents’ house as much as she’d hated the cold mansion he’d built. Up until his investments had turned sour the past two years, her father had been the richest man in Wolf River. He’d had power and prestige. He’d made certain that no one would hire her, and no one would work on her house if they wanted to stay in business.

“Nothing’s impossible if you want it bad enough, Julianna.”

She started at his whispered comment She hadn’t realized he’d moved so close behind her. And still, she couldn’t turn and face him, couldn’t stand to see the pity or disgust in his eyes.

“Name your price, Lucas. I’ll get the money.”

“Where will you get the money?” He touched one finger to the back of her neck, made a lazy circle. “A rich boyfriend, maybe? I know there’ve been no husbands, but certainly there have been lovers, men appreciative of your... charms.”

His touch burned through the cotton knit of her sweater. Her knees turned soft; she had to concentrate to keep each breath steady and even. “How much?”

His finger skimmed her neck, gently up, then down again. “Why have there been no husbands, I wonder? Too attached to leave Daddy?”