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by Jayne Castle


He smiled. "After all this, do you think I'd give this scoop to any paper but the Curtain?"

"What?"

"Ray and I are making arrangements to take you and the rest of the staff down to the fountains soon. Runtley will have his exclusive."

"He'll be thrilled. So will everyone else. Thanks, Fontana. This is wonderful."

He raised his wineglass. "To us."

The intimate heat in his eyes sent a thrill of hope, anticipation, and longing through her. She picked up her glass.

"To us," she said.

Elvis chortled from the windowsill. Fontana laughed and raised his glass a second time.

"To all three of us," he said.

Sierra used a fork to convey a piece of the grilled salmon onto Fontana's plate. "Speaking of family, I met your brother this morning."

The warm intimacy that had pervaded the atmosphere evaporated in a heartbeat. Fontana's eyes went as hard and cold as gemstones.

"Which brother?" he asked.

Okay, this was going to be a little dicey.

"Nick," she said, trying to maintain a casual, conversational tone. Just two people chatting about family matters over dinner. "He came to see me at my office today."

"What did he want from you?"

She concentrated on serving the salad. "Under the circumstances, it's perfectly natural that he would want to meet your wife, isn't it?"

"No."

"Well, I realize that this is only a Marriage of Convenience, but that doesn't mean the family isn't interested. Look at my family, for example. My grandmother will expect me to bring you to her anniversary celebration next month. If we're still married, that is."

"No."

She chilled. "Yes, I know, we probably won't be married that long. But my point is that families are curious about wives and husbands, even if the arrangements are short-term." She drew a breath. "Like ours."

"I wasn't referring to your grandparents' anniversary. I was talking about my Burns relatives. Trust me, none of us wants to get any closer. What did Nick say? And don't try to convince me that he was just curious about you."

She put down the salad tongs with great care. "Let's get something straight here, Fontana. I am your wife, not one of your hunters. You engage in conversations and discussions with me; you do not give me orders."

His brows rose. "Sounds like you're the one giving orders."

She thought about that. "I think of it as setting boundaries. Now, to return to the subject at hand, Nick told me that lately you have refused to take any calls from anyone in your family."

He stabbed a bite of salmon with his fork. "They've only been trying to call me for about a month or so. Now, if they'd been trying for a year or longer…"

"I get it. You would have refused to take the calls that long. Okay, you've made your position clear."

"Good. That means this conversation is over."

"Not quite," she said evenly.

"I was afraid of that." He drank some more wine and set down the glass. "Nick told you that Bums is on the verge of bankruptcy, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did. He says your other brother, Josh, can save it, but he needs an infusion of capital."

"In other words, Nick asked you to talk me into pumping money into the business."

"He sounded desperate."

Fontana shrugged. "Margaret probably sent him. She's the most desperate one in the family."

"Who's Margaret?"

"Nick's mother, my father's widow. She always believed the company was the rightful inheritance of her husband's legitimate children. Her worst nightmare for years was that I would somehow get my hands on Bums & Co. When that nightmare came true, I thought she'd have a stroke."

"Nick said that your father left control of the company to you, but you declined the inheritance."

"That's right. The day the will was read in the lawyer's office, I signed papers transferring my shares in Bums & Co. back to my father's legitimate heirs."

"Did you know the business was in trouble when you walked away from it?"

"No, neither did Margaret." His smile was cold. "Talk about life's little ironies. She was so relieved, she actually sent me a stiff little thank-you note afterward. Those well-bred, upper-class manners come through every time."

She thought about calling him on that jab and then decided she needed to stay focused.

"Okay," she said, "so when did everyone find out that Burns was in serious financial jeopardy?"

He ate some of the fish for a moment, thinking. "Josh must have realized that he had problems soon after he took over the company. Probably spent months trying to come up with some way to salvage things on his own before he approached me."

"You did take that call?"

"Yes. We talked just long enough for me to make it clear that I don't want anything to do with the business."

"Why did your father change his will at the last minute and leave Burns to you?" she asked.

"Burns was my father's passion," Fontana said. "He committed his life to the company. When he realized that his dream had become a nightmare, he couldn't face it."

She lowered her fork. "That was why he killed himself? Because he was facing financial ruin?"

"Yes."

"But that's such a dumb reason. I mean, I can see contemplating suicide because you found out that you had a fatal illness or because you'd done something dreadful and couldn't live with yourself. But to put a gun to your head just because your business was in trouble seems—"

"Weak?"

She flushed. "Forgive me. I'm very sorry. I should not have said that. Suicide is a great tragedy. Your father was undoubtedly suffering from a severe depression. It is an illness, like any other, and should be treated as such."

"Forget the politically correct spin. The truth is my father was willing to sacrifice everything for Burns & Co. Hell, he even entered a Covenant Marriage for the sake of the business. He wanted the financial connections Margaret's family could give him. The drive and ambition it took to build Burns was Dad's greatest strength." Fontana shrugged. "You know what they say about your greatest strength."

"It's also your greatest weakness," she said quietly.

"Right. The only defense anyone has is to be aware of both." He used his fork to spear another bite of salmon. "Play to one and guard against the other."

She smiled. "Words to live by."

"Thanks. Once in a while we Guild bosses actually think about stuff like that."

"Don't start," she warned.

"Sorry. Can't resist occasionally pointing out that your stereotyped image of the Guild has a few flaws." He picked up the wine bottle. "It's one of my weaknesses."

She raised her brows. "Wow. A Guild boss who actually admits to having a weakness?"

"Sure. But not in public. I'm counting on your wifely loyalty to keep that news flash out of the press."

"Hot dang, another Guild secret." She watched him refill their glasses. "All right, so your father lived his life for his business, and when it failed, he couldn't go on. I still don't understand why he left the company to you."

"That's obvious. Burns was more than just a financial empire. My father intended it to be his legacy, a monument that would live on for generations after his death. When he realized that the firm was headed straight for the catacombs, he did the only thing he could think of to preserve his reputation. He dumped the business on me."

"What was the point?"

"Don't you get it?" His mouth twisted in a humorless smile. "My father figured that when Burns & Co. eventually folded, it would look like I was the one who had destroyed it, not him. He wanted me to take the fall for his failure so that his own reputation would remain untarnished."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Your relationship with your father was obviously pretty complicated."

"There was nothing complicated about it. I was his bastard son, a source of humiliation and embarrassment to his wife and her elite family.
He met his financial obligations to me until the day I turned eighteen. Otherwise he pretended that my mother and I didn't exist."

"I've got news for you, Fontana. That description of your relationship with him meets the definition of complicated."

"So?"

"So, here's what I think," she said. "Your father was very aware of your success within the Guild. He also knew that you had built your own financial empire."

"It's no empire. I've made some good investments, but I'm not worth anywhere near as much as he was before Burns & Co. started to crumble."

"Only because you had other priorities," she said. She was impatient with his uncharacteristic obtuseness. "You were more interested in becoming the head of the Crystal Guild than building an empire, so that's where you concentrated your energy and talent."

He gave her an odd look. "What makes you think I could have built the same kind of business enterprise that my father put together?"

"Anyone who can run a Guild can run a corporation. Same skill set."

"Is that right? I thought you were convinced that Guild bosses were only half a step away from being mob bosses."

She smiled. "Like I said, same skill set."

He looked amused. "An interesting view of the corporate world. Does your father know about this?"

"Who do you think pointed it out to me?"

That stopped him for a few seconds, although you had to know the man to notice the sudden stillness that indicated she'd caught him off guard.

"Your father told you that there wasn't much difference between a CEO and a Guild chief?" he asked, not bothering to conceal his skepticism.

"Yes. Of course, a Guild boss does have some unique options when it comes to getting rid of the competition or dealing with personnel problems. All those convenient tunnels. But aside from that…" She moved one hand, waving the issue aside.

Fontana slowly lowered his fork. "You're serious, aren't you? You really believe that I could have built the business empire my father built."

"Sure, if that's what you had set out to do. What's more, your father knew it, too. He would have been a fool not to realize that your rise to power within the Guild and your own personal wealth were clear evidence that you had inherited his talents." She smiled. "And that, Fontana, is why he left Burns & Co. to you."

"He left me a dying business, Sierra."

"Don't you get it? You said, yourself, Burns was more important to him than anything else. Your father knew that you were the only one who had a chance of saving it. In the end he put his reputation and the fortunes of the entire family in your hands."

Chapter 35

SOMETIME LATER HE LOUNGED AGAINST THE RAILING OF Sierra's little balcony, letting the psi-rich night envelop him. Elvis sat beside him, clutching his miniature guitar in one paw. The fog was the heaviest it had been all month.

When he looked over the edge of the railing, he could see the green glow of the sign above Simon Lugg's tavern, but it was impossible to make out the words Green Gate. He could hear people coming and going from the establishment, but they were no more than faint shadows in the mist.

He looked at the delicate crystal glass in his hand. It was half-filled with Amber Dew, a rare and very pricey after-dinner liqueur. Like the expensive wine, he had brought it along tonight to help celebrate the day's victory. He had planned to share the triumph with Sierra.

That was why he had not taken her out to dinner. He had wanted to be alone with her.

He had not wanted to talk about Burns & Co.

"All in all," he said to Elvis, "the plan did not go well."

Elvis made a little rumbling noise in what sounded like a commiserating tone.

"There was a plan?" Sierra said from the doorway.

He turned his head to look at her. "I'm a Guild boss. There's always a plan."

She smiled in the shadows and walked toward him. He opened his senses, unable to resist the unique, enthralling aura of feminine mystery. The sweet, hot, exciting energy aroused everything inside him, just as it had the first time she had entered his office. But the pull, the sensation of a psychic link between them, was so much stronger now than it had been that first day. He sensed that the bond was only going to grow more powerful with time. The part of him that comprehended the nuances of strategy and risk-taking was waving a red flag of warning. He had two options: cut his losses fast or stick around and hope that Sierra felt at least some of what he was feeling.

No doubt about it. The smart move would be to bail while the bailing was good. But sometimes you ignored the odds.

"What was the plan?" she asked, coming to a halt at the railing.

"I wanted to talk about some things tonight," he said. "Things that had nothing to do with Burns & Co."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I realize my timing was bad. It's just that your brother seemed so anxious, and the whole situation sounded very urgent."

"I'd rather you didn't refer to Nick as my brother."

Her eyes widened. "But he is your brother."

"Technically speaking, he's my half brother. Believe me, on the rare occasions when we think of each other, it is strictly in technical terms."

She searched his face. "You have no sense of a family connection with him?"

"Why would I? I've only met him and the others twice. Once at my father's funeral and once in the lawyer's office afterward."

"I see." She turned away to look down at the Green Gate. "Well, I've said my piece. I promise you I won't mention Nick or Burns & Co. again."

She sounded truly chagrined. It was her determination to abide by the vow that made him smile.

"Right," he said.

"What's so funny?"

"The thought of you trying to keep silent about Nick and the business."

She raised her chin. "You don't think I can do it?"

"No. Sooner or later you'll bring up both subjects again."

Her brows snapped together above the dark frames of her glasses. "How do you know?"

"Because you won't be able to help yourself." He laughed. "You are what you are."

"And just what is that?"

"Goal-oriented, just like me. Just like the others in your family. You can't rest until you've achieved your objective and, at the moment, your objective is to convince me to save Burns & Co. For my own good, of course. Your fancy, high-grade intuition is probably telling you that I'll get some of what the para-shrinks like to call closure out of the whole thing."

Her mouth opened, shut, and opened again.

"What are you talking about?" she finally managed. "I'm not like you or anyone else in my family. I'm a walking definition of the word underachieves Just ask anyone."

"I don't have to ask around." He rested both elbows on the railing. "You're the living, breathing definition of achiever. The only difference between you and the rest of us is your goals." He held up one hand to silence her. "And before you start arguing with me, remember that I'm where I am today because I'm damn good at figuring out what people want."

She folded her arms and bristled. There was no other word for it.

"What do you think I want?" she asked.

"To make the world a better place. Justice for those who can't get it for themselves. Help for people like Jake Tanner and the other hunters who disappeared. In short, you're a classic do-gooder."

"And you think do-gooders are naive, gullible, unrealistic, and downright pesky."

"I didn't say that." He paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. "Although, now that you mention it—"

"If you feel that way about me, I'm surprised you didn't file for immediate termination of our marriage this afternoon when you came out of Patterson's office. In fact, why are you even here in my apartment tonight?"

"I haven't made any move to terminate our MC because I like being married to you."

She blinked. "You do?"

"I'm hoping that the reason you didn't rush out to file for divorce yourself today is because you aren't one h
undred percent opposed to the idea of being married to me."

"No." She swallowed. "No, I'm not opposed to the idea."

"Okay, that settles that. We're staying married for a while."

"In spite of the fact that I may not be able to resist urging you to try to rescue Burns & Co.?"

"In spite of that."

"Gee, Fontana, I don't know what to say. This is all so romantic. You're really sweeping me off my feet here."

"No rule says a Guild boss can't be romantic."

"My comment was intended to be taken as thinly veiled sarcasm."

He pulled her into his arms. "I'll give you a little tip."

"Yes?"

"When you use sarcasm with a Guild chief, you have to unveil it."

She smiled. "I'll remember that next time."

He kissed her before she could say another word. Her mouth was soft and warm and inviting under his. After a moment he picked her up and carried her indoors and down the hall to the shadowy bedroom.

It wasn't a full and complete victory, he thought, more like a strategic move in a delicately balanced game of chess. But it would do for now.

Chapter 36

SHE CAME AWAKE TO THE REALIZATION THAI SHE WAS alone in the bed. When she opened her eyes, she saw Fontana silhouetted against the window. He wore his briefs but nothing else. Elvis was perched beside him on the sill. They were both looking out into the solid wall of luminous fog. A couple of hunters bonding in the night.

She pushed back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Fontana looked at her over his shoulder. "I'm just doing a little thinking."

She got to her feet and walked across the room to join him. "What about?"

"My big plan. The one I intended to talk to you about tonight."

She stilled. "I thought the plan was for us to stay married for a while."

"It was actually a little more complicated than that."

Her intuition hummed. Whatever this was about, it was important to him. She tried and failed to squelch the little spark of hope that leaped to life within her. Maybe he was beginning to understand that what they had was very, very special.

"More complicated than an MC?" she asked.