Sweet Southern Betrayal (22 page)

“And what do
you
get out of this?”

He laughed at her question, but there was a grudging admiration in his eyes. “Smart girl. Cutting it down to the important facts right away. I think we might get along just fine if you decide to stay. I can use someone like you with your street smarts to help guide our boy to the top.”

“What. Price.” She barely got the words out between her clenched teeth, the only thing she could do to keep them from chattering with the adrenaline pumping through her system.

“Teague. He’s got what it takes to go far. He looks like a movie star, has the background to match, and the brilliant mind necessary to think on his feet. And, up until this indiscretion with you, he’s been scrupulous about keeping his nose clean. I have big plans for him and you can help keep him here. You can help keep him in line.”

Oh, she understood now. Leland knew if he fixed this, then Teague would be forever in his debt—or under his thumb. Either way was unappealing. She hated to think what Teague would become if he was tethered to this guy. And she’d been here before. Leland was no different from Big Tony, offering her a dance with the devil to sell Teague out once again. If she stayed, then this would be the first of many conversations about “handling” Teague, and sooner or later she’d have to lie to him. She’d have to hide things from him. She’d have to manipulate him to make sure he did what was required.

She already knew she wasn’t that girl.

“Hey baby.” Teague popped through the door and Risa stiffened with a new level of anxiety, barely feeling the brush of his lips on her cheek or his hand on her waist. She didn’t want him to be part of this conversation. She didn’t want to know what path he would choose—either one would break her heart.

He reached for the sheaf of papers in her hand that she was too slow to hide. “What’s this?”

Risa watched him as he read the documents. His expression never changed; the only indication that he was surprised was a twitch of the muscle in his right jaw, which he quickly controlled. He had his game face firmly in place when Leland was around.

“Teague, as we discussed the other day, the firm is willing to support you and Risa in every way, but I had to know who I was dealing with. It’s standard practice to conduct a thorough investigation of everyone associated with the firm. Good business.”

Risa’s eyes shot to Leland, then back to Teague. They’d been discussing this the other day? Teague had reduced their marriage down to a business deal and enlisted this man’s help? Her stomach roiled with surprise and hurt. She took a step back from him, but her husband didn’t even notice. He was too busy making a deal with the devil.

“And now?” Teague looked down at the papers once more, lingering on the last page. “What’s the next step?”

Leland took a sip of his drink before answering, his tone as even as if he were discussing what to have for lunch instead of her life. Her mistakes. Her goddamn survival. Risa reined in her temper, waiting to see what Teague would do. Because it didn’t matter what Leland thought. Her future depended entirely on what Teague said and did in the next few minutes.

“Well, as I was telling Risa there are only two options. She leaves and never comes back, or we fix her past and replace it with one suitable to your career goals.”

“She isn’t going anywhere,” Teague said, his voice firm and sure. He never even spared her a glance. “Like I said. Whatever it takes. We’ll follow your lead.”

Risa took a step back. No one noticed.

“So, we fix it then.” Leland slid a glance in her direction, barely disguising his gloating. He had Teague and Risa knew it. “We’ll take care of the public records, create a new background, and then we can work on forming the new image. We have people who take care of that part for us.”

“We really appreciate it,” Teague said reaching out to draw her close, but she was having none of it.

Her anger rolled to the surface and spilled out. She was humiliated. They were talking about her as though she wasn’t even there, and for a split second she felt like that helpless little kid sitting in social services listening to adults who didn’t give a shit about her. But she wasn’t helpless anymore.

She took two steps toward the door. And then two more.

Risa walked out of the room and never looked back.

Even when Teague called her name.

Chapter Eighteen

Teague found her in the hotel suite. Packing.

“Risa, why did you take off like that?” One minute he’d been discussing the offer from Leland to make it possible for her to stay and the next he was trying to chase her down as she bolted from the house. He’d been delayed by people in the crowd trying to stop him to offer congratulations. He’d just made it to the hired valet stand in time to watch the taillights of the town car with her inside disappear down the long driveway. Precious minutes had ticked by while they arranged for another to come and pick him up.

She didn’t answer him, her back rigid as she threw clothes and toiletries into the small suitcase. He was used to Taylor pitching little fits when she didn’t get her way, but this icy silence seemed impenetrable. He’d messed this up, hurt her with his best intentions. There had be a way to make it right, but for once he didn’t have a ready solution.

He walked over and placed a hand on her arm. She froze, but still refused to look at him, the faint shake of her limbs the only indicator she was reacting to his presence at all.

“Hey, talk to me. What was that all about? We were discussing our future—”

Risa unwound like a coil, her reserve snapping with the impact of a lightning strike, and he took a step back to avoid getting clocked as she ripped her arm out of his grasp.

“You were discussing
my
life! As if I wasn’t even there.” Her chin was anchored in the familiar stubborn tilt. She was angry, but simmering below the surface was her pain, and he bit back a groan at the raw emotion.

“We were discussing your past and how it doesn’t need to impact our future.”

“We don’t have a future.” She edged past him to the bathroom. “We’ll get our annulment; I’ll start over as Jane Rochester somewhere far away and act like this never happened.”

“Risa, I don’t see the problem. The firm can make this go away and you never have to be ashamed—”

She turned on him. White-hot anger rolled off her in waves and for the first time she lived up to the stereotype about redheads having bad tempers. She threw the toiletries in her hand to the floor, advancing on him and pushing him backward with a shove to the chest.

“I am
not
ashamed.” Her voice was even, strong, and barely above her regular speaking voice. “I was sixteen years old. I’d been on the streets for six months. I was hungry. I was alone and I was determined to survive. I did what I had to do. I’m proud of how far I’ve come in my life, and I’m proud I was strong enough to make it.”

Teague stepped forward, a hand on her arm stopping her movement and prompting her to look him in the eye. “So what’s the problem? I thought we were building something together here. Something important.”

“We were building a business partnership, that’s all. An alliance with benefits between the sheets.”

“And now?” He held his breath, not wanting to hear her answer, but seeing the truth in her eyes.

“I love you, Teague.”

He wasn’t prepared for her words, the impact of them as powerful as a punch that sent him staggering back two steps. This was not what he wanted. His plans did not include the messiness of emotion, but damn if his heart didn’t give a breath-stuttering clench at her words.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” Risa was unflinching in her gaze, standing firm in place, as if this revelation didn’t rock her world. “And while I might be able to forgive the way you insulted me, I don’t trust you and that’s why I
will not
stay.”

“I’ve kept every promise. I’ve been a man of my word.”

“I don’t trust the man you’re becoming.”

Okay, now he was really confused. “What does that mean?”

“I saw you tonight and I know who and what you’re going to be. A younger version of Leland. I’m not going to stick around and watch it happen.” Risa walked to the coffee table and grabbed her purse, placing the strap over her shoulder before turning back to him. “He’s no better than Big Tony. The only difference is geography. He bullies, twists, and corrupts and his offer to help tonight was the first step down that path.”

She was wrong. This wasn’t the same thing at all and he needed to make her understand that this was a good thing—a fresh start for her and a future for them. “Risa, they aren’t the same at all. It’s just how things are done at this level of power. The firm has the clout to get me to the top of the game and they know what needs to be done to set it up for success.”

“I don’t want to owe anything to a man like him and neither should you. When he calls for payment it will be the end of you. Look what happened with Big Tony.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“I think you’ve always been on top. Take it from one of the little people he despises, it’s different when you’re the one who has to pay.”

“So you’re leaving to protect me? Again?”

“I wish I could.”

Risa walked forward, stopping in front of him and shocking him when she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a tight hug. He could feel her trembling, the tremor of emotion that racked her body, and the pounding of her heart against his own. Teague’s arm lifted automatically, drawing her as close as he could as he buried his face in the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck.

He inhaled her scent of sweet spice and warm skin, drowning in the essence of this woman. Teague moved at the same time she did, their mouths coming together in a kiss of passion and longing and the regret of good-bye. Because this was the end—he’d failed to persuade the jury on this case—and Risa would leave him and walk away.

A knock on the door and a muffled “front desk” ended their moment. Risa withdrew from his arms so smoothly he wondered if he’d imagined their embrace, the taste of her on his mouth the only evidence that it had really happened. Teague watched her as though it was a movie on a screen as she let a bellboy in the room, gave him her bag, and the direction that she needed a cab to the airport.

He was strangely detached from the reality of what was happening. This was so different from the way they’d spent hours in bed just twenty-four hours earlier. Buried inside her body there was no question of trust, futures, or pasts—only the moment. And that moment was gone.

“I love you, Teague,” Risa said.

“I wish you would stay.”

“I want someone who wants me for who I am, who isn’t ashamed of me, past mistakes and all. I deserve that. I deserve to be loved fully and completely.”

He couldn’t argue with that. She did. She deserved someone who could love her back.

“Yes, you do.” He swallowed hard, shoving his hands in his pockets in an effort to keep himself from reaching out for her.

“Do me a favor?” she asked, her eyes downcast to the floor and her voice small and tremulous.

“Anything.”

“That guy, the one who helped give me and Pepper a new start, who forgave me for what I’d done, the guy who gave me the memorials? Try to be
that guy
once in a while. Okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Another favor?”

“Yes.”

“You know my new name. Don’t try to find me. I don’t want to spend my life thinking you’ll walk through a door looking for me.”

She lifted her head and watched him for a few seconds, searching his face before offering a tentative smile and then turning to walk through the door. It swooshed shut behind her, silent except for the loud click of the automatic lock.

…

Teague dropped his bag on the floor of the Elliott apartment with a thud, heading straight to the fridge and grabbing a beer. He popped the top and gulped half of it down in one long chug. The icy liquid slid down his throat and landed in his gut with the promise of oblivion just within reach with the help of a few more of the tall ones. The apartment was quiet and empty. He’d become used to Risa playing music in a constant loop on her iPod and the round-the-clock flow of guests that seemed to appear on the doorstep whenever she was in residence. Even his DC place had seemed cold and overly large without her being there, and he’d spent most of the last week at the office burying himself in work.

He missed her. His only consolation was that it would pass once he got used to her being gone. He’d been fine before and he’d get there again. He compensated by keeping company with the TV or the radio, but the constant ache in his chest was harder to relieve. Sleep, when it came, was the only respite. But this morning he’d received a call from his colleague in Las Vegas and he’d relayed that his marriage was over and expunged from the system. Teague had left work and instead of making a left to get to his place, he’d made a right and kept driving until he reached Elliott. He still wasn’t sure why.

He drank down the rest of the beer, tossing the bottle in the trash and loosening his tie while he grabbed another one from the fridge. Heavy footsteps pounding up the steps signaled a visitor. Beck—he was the only one who took them two at a time. The door popped open and the appearance of his dark, shaggy head confirmed his guess.