The Tycoon's Seductive Revenge (3 page)

She spread her arms to indicate the sparkling bathroom. “Why do you think I’m working so hard?”

Considering his glare, he believed she could do better than menial labor. “Then get used to scrubbing toilets.”

She stared in disbelief. “What do you want me to do? Prostitute myself to Arnoff Applestone?”

Russert pinned her with his icy black gaze, so unlike her father’s warm brown eyes. “I’m telling you to do whatever it takes.”

“Don’t I get a say in who buys my father’s legacy?” Her shoulders bowed. “Why would you let it go to waste as a sleazy casino?”

“Sleaze sells. And right now, I don’t care who is buying.” Calmer now, he straightened his tie. “You have until the auction Friday. Use the same assets your mother used on my brother, and you might have a decent future.”

Ellie gasped. “How dare you?”

“Your mother is the reason I hadn’t spoken to my brother in thirty years.” Russert swallowed. “I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye.”

Finally, a little light shed on the history between the two estranged siblings. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s in the past.” He brushed off her compassion. “I’ve tried to honor Frank’s memory by setting you up with some kind of inheritance out of the financial shambles he left. But you need to make some decisions, Eleanor. Because when I leave this island on Saturday, you’re on your own.”

“I know that.” Her chin trembled.

“No one is going to buy this hotel out of pity.”

“
I know
.” Angry tears stung her eyes.

“Then help me get it sold.” Russert strode away and closed the door quietly behind him. As if he hadn’t just verbally torn her to shreds. One of New York City’s top corporate attorneys, Russert Montgomery played hardball and didn’t care who he hurt in the process, as long as he won.

Ellie slumped against the bathroom door, feeling defeated. The worst part was she couldn’t counter his attacks. Despite the crushing delivery, every accusation he made was true. She had nothing to go on but her skill as a hotel manager.

And my looks
, as Russert dubiously pointed out.

Is this what her fate had come down to? Offering her body and selling her soul, so she wouldn’t have to leave the only home she’d ever known?

Throwing the rag into the trash can, she left the suite before she succumbed to tears. As she descended the staircase, she ran into Carter on the middle landing.

His troubled expression opposed his previous careless attitude. He stepped toward her. “Listen, Ellie, if I knew he’d come down on you that hard, I would’ve dealt with things differently.”

“You heard us?”

When he nodded, she withered inside, realizing how vulnerable that made her.  She hid her mortification behind toughness. “I handled it.”

“That’s not the point—”

“I appreciate your concern, but we’re all under a lot of stress. It was no big deal.”

As she turned to go, he caught her arm. “If you want, I’ll say something to him about it.”

If she stayed here another minute in the warmth of his attentiveness, she’d start sobbing. “Don’t. Just...don’t.”

“Fine.” Prickly attitude infused his tone. “Sorry I asked.”

This time he let her leave. She kept her gaze on the ground, watching the marble tiles blur as dampness clung to her lashes.

Approaching her room at the end of hall on the first floor, she fumbled with her key. Finally her fingers steadied enough to unlock her door. She rushed into the cool darkness, closed the door and leaned back against it. She shut her eyes, fighting the rush of fear that overcame her and the swell of tears that followed.

She just needed to be alone, to think. To make a decision that would change the rest of her life.

*

Carter stood in the cemetery behind the small stone church. Late-day sunlight slanted through its stained glass windows, illuminating the geometric patterns of color.

Spanish moss dripped from a Live Oak tree, its branches spread in a canopy above him. He’d chosen this spot because of the tree, which stood like a sentinel guarding his mother’s grave.

Kneeling, he brushed crisp fall leaves away from her headstone that glittered with flecks of pink quartz. His fingers caressed the engraved letters.
Rose Stratton
. A name that encompassed sweetness and sacrifice, and the proud woman she was.

Twelve letters. Back then that was all he could afford to put on her grave.

He placed a dozen pink roses beneath her name. “Sorry it’s been so long.”

In the years since she’d passed away, and he’d made a fortune ten times over, he considered trading the headstone for something more impressive, with an engraved passage from her favorite poet, Emily Dickenson.

In the end he chose to keep her simple headstone with only her name to remind him of his roots, and the sacrifices they’d both made so he could become the man he was. While he admired his mother’s determination to raise him on her own, Carter was done making sacrifices.

“I wish you could see...”

How far I’ve come
.

The last part didn’t quite make it.

Taking a deep breath, Carter stood up. Silent within, feeling a sense of stillness all around him, he bowed his head. “I miss your smile,” he whispered.

The beautiful vision of her face haunted his memory as he exited the cemetery. After closing the gate he headed toward town. He descended the old stone steps wedged into the hillside and his shadow spread before him with the setting sun.

Guilt drenched him for not visiting her grave sooner. Were she still alive, she wouldn’t agree with his purpose for returning to the island. She’d tell him to cut the line and let the big fish he had to fry swim away into the deep waters of the past. But he hadn’t made it this far in life to let such a perfect opportunity slip by.

Whenever he and his mother had walked the beaches when he was young, she would pause and gaze at the Montgomery Hotel like a small-town actress dreaming of Hollywood fame.

Since he couldn’t make her wish come true then, he would buy the Montgomery Hotel in her honor. And for his own damn satisfaction.

In less than a week he would own the ruins of a rich man’s former passion. Then, Carter would redesign the hotel according to his personal tastes. At last he would achieve a level of success internally that matched his external accomplishments. Frank Montgomery would turn over in his grave if he knew Carter’s intentions. The thought made him smile.

Approaching the ritzy café that used to be a family restaurant when his mother worked there as a waitress, he looked forward to a low-key evening of dinner and a few glasses of scotch. No relationship problems. No business issues. Plenty of time to appreciate the luxuries he’d only fantasized about while growing up here.

When he walked through the door, the cute redheaded bartender flashed him a smile. The night was looking better already.

“What can I do for you?” the girl asked when he approached the counter.

“Give me a double Johnny Walker on the rocks. Blue Label, if you’ve got it.” She raised her auburn eyebrows at his expensive request. “And your phone number, so I can call you when you finish your shift.”

Her green eyes glittered at the proposition. “How long are you planning to stay on the island?” She made small talk, leaning over the bar to give him a nice view of her cleavage.

“Long enough.” He winked.

A snort interrupted their flirting.

Carter turned to the source. Ellie sat at a corner table pretending to ignore him. Her dark hair was still swept back in a ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face. The red cashmere sweater she wore contrasted with the pale orange sunset beyond the window, defining her silhouette. She flipped through a hospitality magazine, sipping a glass of white wine.

“Put her on my tab.” When pointed at Ellie, the redhead frowned. Once she finished pouring his drink, Carter said, “Keep ‘em coming.” He exhaled a longsuffering sigh. “Depending how this goes, I might need as much alcohol as I can get.”

The bartender giggled. Carter set his black American Express card on the counter.

When she reached for it, he slid his fingertips across the back of her hand. “I’ll make tonight worth your while.” The bartender’s smile brightened. Clearing his throat, Carter stepped away and approached Ellie’s table. “Care for some company?”

“Not really.”

“Great. I’ll pull up a chair.”

As he sat down Ellie rolled her eyes. She angled her seat to face the windows instead of him.

“What brings you out of your comfort zone?” He took a sip of his scotch. The liquid slid down his throat, leaving a satisfying tingle in its wake.

“I do have a life beyond the hotel.” She flipped a page in her magazine.

He glanced around at the empty chairs. “I see.”

“I came here to be alone.”

“Me, too.” He swirled the ice in his glass and leaned closer, peering at the ads on the page. “Checking out career opportunities?”

She slapped the magazine shut. “I have a job.”

“For now.”

Her eyes sparked. “What does that mean?”

Shrugging, he pointed out, “It all depends on who buys the hotel.”

Her cheeks turned as red as her sweater. She stared mutely at the napkin holder on the table.

An unpleasant twinge of compassion afflicted him, like that afternoon when Russert had come down hard on her. “Look, you have a lot to offer the industry. No matter what happens you’ve got the experience to make a new start.”

“That’s what my uncle keeps telling me.” She sipped her wine. “But I can’t leave the island.”

“I may not agree with your uncle’s approach, but he’s right.” Carter gestured toward the view through the window. “There are bigger opportunities out there. You should be managing a hotel chain. Your talents are wasted on this place.”

“I can’t leave the island,” she said more forcefully. “There’s a—” She cut herself off.

He supplied, “A life beyond El Dorado Island?”

Eyes narrowing to slits, she stated, “It may sound idiotic to you, but I believe there’s a curse. Any time someone I love tries to leave the island, there are deadly consequences.”

Carter used to wonder himself if the island was cursed, but for different reasons. Ridiculous, he knew. “Sounds like a problem.”

“Uncle Russert was never attached to the hotel, so he doesn’t understand. He thinks I can pick up and take off on a whim.”

“Sure.”

“It’s not that simple. My life has never been simple—despite what people assume. There are expectations my father had, and I have to live up to them. To honor him.”

That hit a little too close to home. He shifted in his seat. “Honoring the dead is a complicated thing.”

“I don’t know why Daddy thought Steven Jacquard would make all our problems disappear.”

Carter folded his arms.
Who the hell is Steve?

“But that’s who Daddy wanted me to marry.”

She got married?
A surge of territorial instinct spiked his veins.

“Steven owned an advertising agency. He was brilliant at sales, a failure at morals. I knew he was sketchy. He kept putting off our wedding, promising the world. Daddy poured all his money into Steven’s schemes. Four years ago the guy disappeared with my father’s last nickel, and I threw my engagement ring off the boat docks.” She sniffed. “Which was stupid. I could use the money from that diamond right about now.”

So she wasn’t married
. His shoulders relaxed.

Morbidly curious what else she’d reveal, he sat back and let her vent.

“We were never as rich as people thought, but that didn’t stop them from wanting money or favors. You never knew who to trust.” She gripped the stem of her glass. “Now my father is gone, I have no close friends, I can’t leave the island, my family heritage is up for auction, and a mountain of debt will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

She polished off her wine.

A tide of irritation rose up inside him.

First, she never expressed her fears and loneliness to him when they were together. Second, he’d experienced a parallel reality growing up even though their lives had been totally different. Third, when she talked about Steven Jackass, Carter felt...something. Deep down. And he couldn’t identify it. Like an infected splinter lodged under a fingernail where he couldn’t reach.

When it came to Ellie, he didn’t want to feel anything except the satisfaction of vengeance. Instead of investigating his frustration or giving into her sob story, he pretended to yawn. “I know. Life’s rough.”

Her fury sizzled in the air between them. “Why are you here, Carter?”

“Just enjoying happy hour.”

She shook her head. “Why did you come back to the island?”

He had to play this carefully. “Why do you think?”

“To make my life hell.”

“That’s right. It’s all about you, Ellie.”

She stiffened. “Go back to your beachfront hotels, and leave us alone.”

“What fun would that be?”

“It figures. You’re not happy unless someone is ripping me apart. I’ve gone a whole three hours without criticism. Thanks for doing the honors.”

Ellie scraped her chair back from the table and left the restaurant. Carter wasn’t far behind. He paid the tab, ignored the bartender’s advances, and headed back to his room alone.

Distractions weren’t going to give him what he wanted. He needed to narrow his focus on luring Ellie to him, while maintaining the detachment he’d perfected.

He noticed a blotch of red a few hundred yards away, the color of Ellie’s sweater. She moved quickly over the cobblestone path through a cluster of trees.
Running away from the big bad wolf, are we?
 

Wearing a smug grin, he slowed his pace. “You can run but you can’t hide.”

You will be mine again
.

Chapter 3

The following morning, Carter surfaced from forty-five minutes of laps in the Montgomery Hotel’s indoor pool. He shook his head to flick off the water. It might’ve been the chlorine messing with his eyes, but he swore he saw Ellie standing mostly naked on the other side of the pool room.