The Pint-Sized Secret (11 page)

Jeb was already pulling on his pants. “An emergency,” he said, praying she would leave it alone. He simply couldn’t get into this with her, not now. “I have to get back to Houston.”

Of course it wasn’t enough of an explanation for her. “Is it your father?” she persisted, regarding him worriedly.

“Dad’s fine,” he said more curtly than he’d intended, then winced when he saw the hurt in her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Do you want me to come back, too?”

“No. I’ll handle it. You stay here. Finish your business.” He couldn’t help the wry note that crept into his voice. Brianna didn’t miss it, either, though it was clear she didn’t understand what was behind it.

“Jeb, something is obviously wrong. Can’t you tell me about it?”

“No. I can’t talk about it. It’s private family business.”

“I see.”

Again there was the hint of hurt that made him feel as if he were the one who’d done something wrong, rather than the other way around.

“Does this have something to do with me? If so, don’t you think you ought to explain?”

He seized on her quick leap to that particular conclusion. Was it a guilty conscience that caused her to ask? he wondered. “Why would you assume it has something to do with you?” he asked, watching her reaction intently.

She reached for her robe and hurriedly dragged it on, as if to shield herself. That she felt she needed to do that with him was incredibly telling. What else did she feel the need to hide from him? And why? A short time ago, he’d been so sure that he knew everything that was important about her.

“Because of the way you’re acting,” she said, moving to stand in front of him so he couldn’t possibly avoid looking at her.

Irritated at having given himself away, he scoffed, “Oh, really? How am I acting?”

“You haven’t looked me in the eye since you hung up the phone. Either it’s about me or it’s something you don’t want to share with me. After what just went on in this room, I thought we were closer than that. You were the one who’s been pushing for us to get closer. Now you’re backing away. The only reason I can see for that is whatever that phone call was about. I’ll ask you again, was it about me?”

He turned away long enough to grab his jacket, then met her wary gaze. “The truth is, I’m hoping like hell it has nothing to do with you.”

He walked out before she could question what he meant. All the way back to Houston, he cursed himself up and down for missing something, for allowing his attraction to Brianna to obscure the reason he’d gotten involved with her in the first place. He’d put his suspicions on hold and he couldn’t put the blame for that all on his father’s shoulders. He’d wanted her to be innocent for his own, totally masculine reasons.

Well, no more. His blinders were off now. Obviously, she’d been playing him for a fool, keeping him occupied while she went right on with her nasty little business of betraying Delacourt Oil.

How could she? And how could he have been so wrong about her? At least this proved that his investigative instincts had been right from the outset. He would find the proof he needed this time, no matter what he had to do to get it. Even if that meant continuing to play out this charade of a relationship they were supposed to have until he won her trust. Maybe then she’d slip up and reveal the answers he’d been seeking.

He thought of the few hours they had spent in her hotel room bed and tried not to regret that for a few minutes he had actually thought he might be falling in love with her.

It was ironic that Brianna of all people had been the first woman in years he’d started to let down his guard with. She had turned right around and betrayed him. It was the second time in his life he’d been fooled by a beautiful face and a sweet smile. It would also be the last, even if he had to spend the rest of his life celibate.

After a sleepless night and a long flight, he was exhausted by the time the plane touched down in Houston. Even so, he went straight to his brother’s office.

“You look like hell,” Michael greeted him, his expression grim.

“Feel like it, too,” he said candidly, pouring himself a cup of coffee before sinking into a chair. It was better than usual, which meant Mrs. Fletcher, not his father, had made it. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll go after the hard evidence we need to convict her,” he said heatedly.

His brother’s sympathetic gaze searched his. “You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Jeb?” Michael chided. “Lie to me if you must, but not to yourself.”

“Even if I have, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

“Can you separate your feelings from what you’ll have to do to bring her down?”

“If she’s betrayed my family, I can.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Michael cautioned.

“You were sure enough of it to track me down in her bed last night. Now will you just spit out what we do have and let me get started?”

Michael sighed. “Okay, here it is. Brianna checked a site for us about four months ago. It was a site Tyler had scouted out. You know how he is, all gut instinct. He swore there was the smell of oil in the soil. Brianna went in to see if she could back it up. She did all of that scientific stuff that’s beyond me, then brought her report to Dad and me. It was the most promising site we’d seen in the past couple of years. I started negotiating to buy it. Earlier this week, I thought the deal was all but sewn up. The owner and I had reached a verbal agreement on price.”

“Which with anyone honorable would have been enough to close the deal,” Jeb pointed out.

“True enough, but another bidder emerged. Paid handsomely for the mineral rights alone. The owner, who’d always been uneasy about giving up his family’s land, signed without even coming back to me for a counterbid.”

“The whole damn thing smells,” Jeb said. “Are you absolutely certain you, Dad, Tyler and Brianna were the only ones inside the company who knew about this land?”

“Absolutely. People on her staff run some of the core sample tests, but they never know where the samples come from. That’s always been the practice around her. It keeps people from being tempted to start speculating in buying up land before they turn over the results. Dad has always been adamant about absolute secrecy.”

“What about the owner? Maybe he figured if he had Delacourt Oil on the hook, then the land might be worth even more to another buyer. We’ve already seen he doesn’t understand the meaning of a verbal agreement.”

“Anything’s possible,” Michael conceded, “but this guy is an old codger. I don’t think his mind works that way. I don’t think he went looking for another buyer. But when one came along, I think the chance to keep his land in his family and sell only the mineral rights was too good to pass up. And I doubt he even thought about the business implications for us.”

“Maybe he has a greedy wife or heirs who caught wind of his intentions and got into the act at the last minute,” Jeb suggested, then realized that he was grasping at any straw that might clear Brianna’s name. He didn’t want to believe her capable of this.

“That’s possible, too. I didn’t start digging around for answers. I called you. Maybe that was a mistake.” He regarded Jeb uneasily. “If you want me to, I’ll call Dylan. Let him handle this. He might be more objective.”

Though he knew Michael was only trying to spare his feelings, Jeb was insulted by the offer, by the implication that he couldn’t handle a simple investigation just because Brianna was the prime suspect. “No, dammit! I said I’d do this and I will.” He forced himself to calm down, then asked, “What has Dad had to say about this?”

“Not much. I expected him to go through the roof, but he shrugged it off yet again. He was absolutely insistent that I not call you in London, ruin your trip, and get you all stirred up, as he put it.”

“Doesn’t sound much like Dad, does it? What the hell is going on with him? Is he losing his touch?”

Michael hooted at that. “Dad will still be a better businessman than any of us when he has one foot in the grave. At least to hear him tell it.”

“What do you think?”

“I think we need to know what’s going on, even if Dad blows a gasket when he finds out what we’ve been up to.”

Jeb nodded. “Then I’ll go home, shower, and get right on this. Give me the name and address of the guy who sold the land. I’ll start with him, then check out the guy who bought it.”

“The guy who bought it is Jordan Adams,” Michael said, waiting while the significance of that sank in. “Doesn’t make much sense, does it? He’s always been known as a straight arrow.”

“I suppose anyone can change if the stakes are high enough,” Jeb said, though he agreed that it didn’t sound like the Jordan Adams he’d heard about his whole life, the one who’d been so kind to Trish when she’d been alone and in trouble.

“What will you do when Brianna gets back?” Michael asked.

“She won’t make a move without me knowing about it,” Jeb said grimly. For once he took no pleasure in the thought of becoming her shadow.

When he had walked out of her hotel room, she had known that whatever they had felt for each other had died. His leaving had had a finality about it, despite the cryptic remark that he hoped the phone call had nothing to do with her. For whatever reason, he no longer trusted her. That much had been plain. Why was beyond her. In the end, though, their feelings were a lot like a young seedling that had been trampled underfoot, too weak to withstand such a devastating injury.

If she hadn’t feared something like this from the beginning, maybe she would have been more willing to fight for a future. Maybe she would have kept him from leaving, demanded an explanation. As it was, she simply resigned herself to no longer having him in her life. She’d been fine before he’d pushed his way into her daily routine. She would be again. All along she had told herself she wanted nothing more than an interlude. Well, she’d had that. And at least Emma had been spared the heartache of his going.

Intellectually, she accepted the sudden turnaround in his behavior, but her heart was another matter. She couldn’t seem to stop the aching sense of loss that accompanied her on the flight home.

When she got into Houston, it was late. She went back to her town house, caught a few hours of restless sleep, then went into work. She kept glancing at the door, hoping Jeb would appear, maybe offer the explanation that he hadn’t given her in London. Each time the phone rang, she waited expectantly for her secretary to announce his call. By noon, she realized he wasn’t going to call and she was accomplishing nothing.

“Go home,” Carly advised. “You’re jet-lagged or something.”

“In other words, I’m wasting my time and yours here.”

Carly grinned. “Pretty much.”

Maybe if she spent the afternoon with Emma, she could push thoughts of Jeb out of her head. Maybe her daughter would help her to get her perspective back.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m out of here,” she told Carly, then announced her departure to Mrs. Hanover as she passed her secretary’s desk.

The older woman stared at her in surprise. “Do you have a lunch meeting? I didn’t see one on your calendar.”

The question proved just how predictable Brianna had become. When she didn’t have an engagement for lunch, she ate at her desk, usually a bowl of soup that Mrs. Hanover heated in the microwave.

“No meeting. I’m just struggling with jet lag more so than usual. I’ll take some work home, catch up on sleep and be back in the morning.”

“Shall I forward your calls? Especially if Mr. Delacourt checks in?”

Brianna wasn’t anticipating a call from Jeb—or any other Delacourt, for that matter. “No. Just take messages. I’ll check in later and return any that are important.”

“Very well. You have a nice rest.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Outside, she drew in a deep breath of fresh air, but it did little to refresh her. It was hot and humid with storm clouds building in the west.

She used her cell phone to call the center to let Gretchen know she was coming and that she’d be bringing lunch. On the way she stopped at a fast-food restaurant and picked up one of their kid’s meals, along with the latest collectible toy. She’d also brought back coloring books and a doll from England. Imagining Emma’s delight brought the first real smile since Jeb had left her room so abruptly.

When she reached the rehab center, her mood was lighter. Concentrate on Emma, she told herself as she walked down the corridor toward the sunroom. Nothing else matters.
Nothing.