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Authors: Yvonne Lindsay

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BOOK: The Wayward Son
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But a tightening low down in her gut told her it was entirely possible. The doubts that she’d had for the past few days surged up to remind her of what Judd had told her about his mother’s obsession with Masters’ Rise.

Anna drew in a deep breath and tried to summon the courage she knew she’d need to face Cynthia downstairs. No, it was no good. No amount of breathing would make her feel right about this. She’d just have to haul on her big-girl panties and get it over with. She descended the stairs with a knot in her stomach the size of a boulder, and headed for the salon. Inside, Cynthia sat upon one of the love seats, a glass of wine in her hand and a disapproving look upon her face.

“I’ll need to do quite a bit of upgrading,” she commented. “Charles has really let this place slide.”

Anna felt her back stiffen in response. Not only had Charles done everything
but
let the place slide, Anna’s mother had enjoyed a free hand in redecorating and refurbishing as and when required.

“It’s a home,” Anna answered carefully. “Charles felt it was important that we be comfortable.”

“Well, you’ve certainly been comfortable here, haven’t you? I imagine it was quite the come up in ranks from where you and your mother used to live. Tell me, how is dear Donna these days?”

“My mother passed away several years ago,” Anna responded uncomfortably. She’d bet Cynthia never called Donna Garrick “dear” anything to her face the whole time she’d known her.

“I am sorry to hear that.” Cynthia took a sip of her wine before continuing, “And yet, you’re still here. Why is that?”

“Charles said it was to be my home for as long as I wanted.”

“But it’s no longer his place to offer you that roof over your head.” Cynthia shook her head, an expression of sympathy on her face that looked as false as the tone of her voice. “I’d suggest you begin looking elsewhere for your accommodation, although I doubt you’ll be as lucky as to find anyone as…
accommodating
as Charles.”

“I really don’t think it’s quite your place to suggest where I should be living,” Anna snapped back, suddenly angry where before she’d only felt apprehension. “Judd wouldn’t dream of putting me out from under his roof.”

“Ah, so the kitten has claws. How charming.” Cynthia laughed—the sound grating along Anna’s last nerve. “Although you may not feel quite so inclined to leap to Judd’s defense when you understand what Judd’s plan was all along. Ask yourself, with everything he has in Adelaide, why else would he have come back if not for some well-aimed revenge? It’s not as if Charles was ever a father to him.

“You look shocked. Poor dear, I suppose Judd has taken you to his bed and now you’ve gone and fallen in love with him.” Cynthia shook her head and tsked softly. “He’s only using you, you know. Despite everything, Judd’s a lot like Charles. He won’t marry you. Do you really think you’re worthy of a place like this when your mother never was? Like father like son, like mother like daughter. My son will ask you to leave soon enough. Wouldn’t you rather save face and go before that happens?”

Anna reeled under the onslaught of Cynthia’s words. “Judd wouldn’t do that,” she said woodenly.

Or would he?
Her fingers curled in her palms, her nails biting into the skin—the pain an offset to the pain that now squeezed her heart tight. She really didn’t know Judd Wilson beyond what he’d presented to her. She knew he was determined and had an edge of ruthlessness lingering beneath the surface at all times. Could Cynthia’s words be the truth? She didn’t want to believe it. She loved him. He wasn’t that kind of man.

Anna felt an arctic chill shiver through her body. Despite her instinct to protest Cynthia’s words, they held all too much of a ring of truth about them. The older woman had given voice to Anna’s greatest fear—that she would never have the wholehearted love of the man she loved in return.

Thirteen

J
udd was exhausted as he got out of his car and climbed the front steps into the house. Funny how it had so rapidly begun to feel like home, he realized, when before it had always been nothing more than something to be acquired and used. Perhaps it was the thought of the woman waiting inside for him. He knew Anna had already left the office and would be waiting for his report on Charles’s condition.

He felt like a hypocrite attending the old man at the hospital, but today hadn’t been a good one for his father, with his health deteriorating further. Even unconscious, Charles didn’t make a good patient. In fact, Judd suspected the word “patient” was totally lacking in his vocabulary. Still, he’d seemed more settled when Judd had left him.

It had been a tough day all around, really. He’d battled with his decision to go ahead and test the waters with Nate Hunter but, in the face of Charles’s treatment of Nicole at the hospital, eventually he’d decided to go ahead. He’d spent the better part of the morning trying to set up a meeting with Hunter, but the man was as elusive as quicksilver. Judd hadn’t wanted to leave a message with Nate’s staff—all too aware that Nicole could easily intercept it and somehow block him reaching the other man altogether. Maybe tomorrow would see success.

Judd considered the paperwork inside his briefcase. He hadn’t dared to leave it in the office in case Anna saw it before he’d completed his plans. Everything had to be lined up just so for all this to work. She wouldn’t be happy, and he hoped their burgeoning relationship would weather the fallout once it all went ahead. Her place was with him now; surely she’d see he had no other choice.

He waited for the sense of satisfaction that usually infused him when he thought of his plans coming to fruition, but instead he felt oddly flat. Must just be tired, he rationalized. Between nights with Anna, demanding days in the office and even more demanding time at the hospital, he was definitely not operating at his peak.

As he entered the front lobby he could hear women’s voices from the salon. He dropped his briefcase near a hall table and walked through, gritting his teeth as he tried to force a welcoming smile onto his face. The last thing he felt up to right now was company, but appearances had to be maintained.

He could barely believe his eyes as he pushed open the salon door.

“Mother?”

Cynthia rose from her seat and put out her arms to her son. Automatically, Judd crossed the room and allowed his mother to embrace him.

“My boy, I’ve missed you.”

“Why are you here?”

Cynthia pouted. “What? Didn’t you miss me, too?”

“Of course,” Judd said, brushing her words aside.

She was the last person he wanted to deal with right now. His plans for Wilson Wines needed to be carefully executed and he didn’t need the distraction of worrying if his mother was about to preempt his weeks of carefully layered construction—or
de
construction as the case would be.

He cast a look in Anna’s direction. She was pale and sitting with her spine rigid. Her hazel eyes were clouded with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His protective instincts rose to the surface—surprising him with their intensity. Anna had been fine when he’d spoken to her at the office before he’d headed off to the hospital, which meant that whatever had upset her had happened between then and now. That only left one person who was likely to be the cause, which begged the question, what had Cynthia done to upset Anna?

“Everything okay at the office?” he asked.

“Of course,” Anna replied. “I have some papers in my case for you when you have a moment.”

“Surely you two can leave work alone for one evening. I’ve just arrived and I want to hear everything about what you’ve been up to while you’ve been gone,” Cynthia interjected.

“Let me leave you two to it,” Anna said, rising coolly from her seat. “I have plenty to attend to while you catch up.”

“You don’t need to go,” Judd said, wondering why Anna seemed so keen to create some distance between them.

“Let her,” his mother said, her long fingers tightening around his forearm. “It’ll be lovely to be just the two of us over dinner, don’t you think?”

He didn’t think anything of the kind. Something was terribly wrong and he had no idea what it was.

“I’ll speak to you later, then. If you’re sure you won’t join us?”

A crooked smile twisted Anna’s lips. “Oh, I’m sure. You two enjoy catching up. I’ll leave the papers in your room.”

He watched with narrowed eyes as Anna left the room, closing the salon door with silent precision. Something was very wrong and the minute she’d gone he felt the exhaustion of earlier tug at him again.

“I wish you’d told me you were coming to visit,” Judd said to his mother as they assumed their seats.

“I was hoping to surprise you.”

Judd felt a flare of anger burst inside. Surprise him? She had to be kidding. When everything hung so carefully in the balance it was the last thing he needed.

“You certainly succeeded at that,” he said ruefully. “How long are you planning to stay?”

“A week, maybe,” Cynthia replied. “Longer, if necessary.”

“Longer?” The word slipped out before he could prevent it. He was more tired than he thought.

“What’s the matter, Judd? You know what we planned.”

“Yes, and I also know you were supposed to wait until I told you to come over.”

“But I heard that your father was gravely ill—not from you, I might add.”

“He’s ill, Mother, not dead.”

“Well, either way,” Cynthia said airily, her hands fluttering in the air, “if you want him to be aware of your revenge, then you’re running out of time. You’ve got to get to work on taking it all over and doing with it what you want to—which is to give the house to me, right?”

That was what they’d planned, but Judd felt himself reluctant to commit to agreeing with her. The whole time he’d grown up at The Masters’ he’d always felt as though he didn’t fully belong. Strangely enough, he felt as if he fitted here.

He redirected his mother’s conversation to the family back at The Masters’ as they went through to dinner, but all the while he was acutely conscious of Anna’s empty chair at the table. When he was finished with his meal he excused himself, citing business he urgently needed to attend to, and he went back to the lobby to retrieve his briefcase.

He was surprised to see a stack of suitcases by the front door. They hadn’t been there when he’d arrived home, and they couldn’t be his mother’s. She would have complained long and hard if the airline had lost her luggage, however temporarily. A sound on the staircase behind him made him turn to see Anna, an overnight bag in one hand and her handbag slung over one shoulder.

“What’s this?” he demanded, his hand flung out toward the cases at his feet.

Outside, he heard a car pull up on the driveway and give a toot.

“My stuff. I’m moving out. That’ll be Mr. Evans with my car.” She stepped past him to open the front door and hefted one of her cases onto the front porch. “Thanks for bringing my car around. I hope we can fit everything in,” she said to the handyman as he came up the stairs to get her cases.

“What do you mean, you’re moving out?”

“Just that.” She turned to Evans and gestured to the rest of her things in the lobby. “All of these, too, please.”

“Hold on a minute. Where are you going and, more important, why?”

Anna shook her head. “I think you know why. Tell me, did you really come back to wreak revenge on your father? Did you mean to give this house to your mother all along?”

He stood in silence. A silence that damned him in her eyes. Eyes that were now hazed with pain and a sorrow that went so deep he wanted to do anything and everything to make it go away.

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “You always thought the worst of me, but it never occurred to me to think you were capable of something like this. I didn’t want to believe you could be so calculating, but it seems I was terribly wrong. I really don’t know you at all, do I?”

Evans had collected the last of her bags and was now waiting by her car. Anna started to head out the door. Judd wanted to call out to her, to physically restrain her from leaving, but he knew he had no right. He
had
meant to give his mother this house all along and he had meant so much more harm to Charles, as well. Right now, though, none of that seemed important anymore as the woman he suddenly realized had come to mean so much to him walked out the door.

A slow burn of anger started deep inside of him. He had never lost control of a situation ever before, and right now everything he’d worked hard for these past weeks, his whole lifetime, in fact, started to crumble. He rubbed at his eyes, unable to dislodge the picture of the misery on Anna’s face no matter how hard he tried.

“It’s for the best, Judd.” His mother’s voice came from behind him and he whirled around to face her.

“For the best? What makes you say that?”

“She had ideas above her station and she’d have eventually dragged you down to her level. You know that, don’t you? After all, look at what her mother did for Charles. Nothing. She was a convenient mistress and a passable housekeeper. No doubt Anna’s been riding on her mother’s abilities to sneak her way into Charles’s wealth through his bed, too.” Cynthia stepped closer, placing one hand on his arm and closing her fingers around it in a hold that surprised him with its strength. “Trust me, Judd. You’re better off without her.”

He stared at his mother’s fingers and their clawlike grip, the physical manifestation of her hold on him the perfect analogy for how she’d tried to direct him all his life. As her words ran through his mind—words that he knew, in this case, to be totally untrue—he wondered what else his mother had told him that had been twisted and distorted away from the truth to suit her own manipulations.

“Did you tell her?”

“About the house? Of course I did. She needed to know, Judd. She doesn’t belong here any more than her mother ever did.”

“She was an
invited
guest under this roof.”

His mother’s face paled beneath expertly applied cosmetics. “I don’t like your implication, Judd.”

“Like it or not, it’s still my name on the deed to this property.”

“A mere technicality. You know what this place means to me.”

“More than anything or anyone else, yes.”

Weariness swamped him with the awareness that Cynthia’s obsession with this property was outside normal perceptions. Clearly she felt it was owed to her for all she’d lost when she was younger, and for all she’d endured during her marriage to Charles and her subsequent banishment back home to Australia. It was unhealthy and Judd was annoyed with himself that he’d never seen it before now.

Cynthia was Cynthia. She’d never pretended to be anything else but what she’d presented to the world. Subterfuge had never been her style, ever, which was why he’d always assumed that she’d never been anything but honest with him. Only now did he realize that while she didn’t lie, per se, her accounts on matters that affected her deeply were twisted by her bitterness into something that only vaguely resembled the truth. Accepting that, and the fact that as an adult he should have seen it sooner, filled him with a fury at himself that he could barely contain.

She’d always be his mother, and he’d always love her as such, but right now he didn’t like the person she was very much at all. He needed some distance between them before his anger bubbled over and he said something he might regret.

All his instincts urged him to follow Anna, but with that he was forced to admit he had no idea where to go to look for her. Frustration rose within him anew. Even if he did know where to find her, he doubted she was in the mood to listen to him. He pulled himself free of his mother’s clasp, the movement as metaphorical as it was literal.

“Look, it’s late and I have work to get through. I’ll see you in the morning and we can discuss your return to The Masters’.”

“My return? But I’ve only just arr—”

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said firmly, and grabbing his briefcase he went upstairs.

Anna didn’t know how much longer she could take this. Working with Judd and feeling about him the way she did, yet knowing just how ruthless he really was, was making her feel sick inside. She had hardly slept over the weekend. The cheap motel she’d discovered on Friday night was hardly in a secluded area and the constant traffic noise and the racket from a nearby bar and club had ensured her nights were punctuated by the kinds of sounds that had dragged her from her restless sleep with a start more than once.

When she’d left the house on Friday she’d been too distraught to think carefully about where she was headed. In the end, to avoid creating an accident, she’d pulled into the motel thinking that it would be for only a night before she found an apartment in the city. But the weekend had passed in a blur of visits to the hospital, timing them to avoid Judd, and spending the rest of her time wallowing in a blend of self-pity and self-disgust that she could have been so foolish as to lose her heart to a man as cold and unforgiving as Judd Wilson.

After a lifetime of promising herself she deserved so much more than her mother had settled for, she’d just gone and found herself falling into the same pattern. Falling in love with a man with whom she would never be an equal—a man who would never offer her more than a job and his bed to sleep in.

BOOK: The Wayward Son
6.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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