Heart of Stone

Stone did the same, his palms pushing into the polished wood as he stared at her. “I tried to warn you,” he said, the whisper of the words so low, Tara had to lean even closer to hear him.

“You didn’t warn me about this,” she said, amazed that he could be serious. “You didn’t even bother mentioning this.”

“I told you, I didn’t want to interfere with the wedding.”

“Afraid I’d burst into a fit of tears and make a scene?”

He shook his head. “No. I stayed quiet out of respect for your sister.”

That made her back off. But not much. “That was very considerate of you.” Turning her head, her thick hair falling across her face, she said, “Did you come to the wedding to purposely check me out?”

He stared at her hair for a minute, making her wish she could shove it away, then shook his head. “No. I didn’t know who you were until you told me your name.”

She let that settle, then asked, “Well, why didn’t you say something, then? Why didn’t you tell me who you were? We were away from everyone. You could have explained.”

He stepped back, then crossed his arms over his lightweight gray wool suit. “Maybe I was too busy enjoying…getting to know you.”

Tara laughed. “Oh, please. That dripping charm might work on socialites, but it won’t work on me. You realized who I was and you didn’t do anything about it. You probably even figured out what my phone call was about. Guess that gave you a good laugh.”

“Did you see me laughing? Am I laughing right now?”

“No,” she said, the honest intensity in his eyes making her decide to be truthful herself. “I don’t think you’re the laughing type. Too busy nurturing that chip on your shoulder.”

“You think you have me figured out, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen your kind before.”

“Meaning, your husband?”

Remembering his words as he entered the room, she asked, “And just what would you know about my husband?”

Stone opened the leather briefcase he’d brought into the room, then tossed a heavy manila file across the table at her. “I know he owed me money. I know he owed lots of people money. And I also know that you’ve been frantically trying to hold several of those people off while you work on this land deal. So why don’t you do us both a favor and agree to my price. It’s a fair market price for that swamp.”

Tara didn’t know how to define the anger and hurt coursing through her system. She wanted to direct it at Chad, but he was dead. So she sent it toward Stone, who was very much alive. “Chad owes you?”

“We had some dealings through my friend Griffin, yes.” He shrugged. “Savannah’s business community is close-knit. And your husband was a player. Or at least, he was until he let things get out of hand.”

Tara grabbed the file, glanced at the first few documents, then carefully closed it and placed it back on the table. It was all there. All the gory details of the rise and fall of Chad Parnell.

Her heart dropped to her feet as her anger turned into dread. If Chad owed Stone money, then she’d have to practically give him the land. Besides, if she didn’t sell it soon, the bank and the creditors would probably seize it anyway. That realization made her sick to her stomach. She leaned on the table again, but this time it was strictly for physical support. “How much?”

Stone stared at her, his grim expression changing to one of concern before his face became blank. “That’s not important,” he said at last. “I’ll absorb that in exchange for the land—at the same price I’ve already quoted you.”

Tara knew he was playing games with her, banking on her emotional turmoil to steal her land away. “That’s awfully generous of you, considering you just called it swampland.”

“Part of it is swamp,” he said, reverting back to business with a smooth swipe of his hand through his too long hair. “We’ll have to haul in dirt and rock, build restraining walls, sea walls. We’ll have to build up the foundation, make sure we don’t build half-a-million dollar homes in a flood zone. That’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

“But you still want the land?”

He gave her a long, appraising look. “Yes, I still want the land.”

“Why have I never heard of you? Why didn’t Chad ever mention you?”

He shrugged again. “Your husband and I never actually met each other. Griffin Smith, who I believe you’ve been working with, acted on my behalf with your husband. I prefer working as a consultant for other companies, like a troubleshooter, behind the scenes.”

“So you can use underhanded tactics?”

He didn’t even flinch. “I use wise business tactics. I advise people on how to buy and sell vast amounts of property, and I do the same myself. That’s how your husband found me—he needed to unload a few buildings, some warehouses out on the river.”

Tara knew about that property—she’d already spent part of that money, too, to pay off some of the charge cards.

“And so you graciously helped him, for a small fee?”

“Actually, it was a rather large fee, which I’ve never collected.” He looked down then. “We sold the property right before he died, so I held off on collecting my cut. And look, I’m sorry—”

She cut him off with a hand in the air. She didn’t need his sympathy. “So that’s when you came gunning for me, right?” She had to wonder if he’d been watching her all along, and just waiting for the right time to strike.

“I knew of your situation, yes. Then I did some research.” He stopped, rubbed a hand down his chin while his eyes searched her face. “I didn’t know…about you—that you were Ana’s sister. I only knew Chad was married.” He waited a beat, then added, “Tara, I only see what’s on paper.”

Deciding that statement clearly summed him up, she inclined her head. “So you heard about the land, saw a good opportunity—on paper—then bided your time until you knew I couldn’t hold out any longer. Is that why you finally agreed to meet with me?”

He shifted, and sighed. “I agreed to meet with you because you were being stubborn. Griffin could have handled the contract, but you kept digging, wanting to know about the company trying to buy your land.”

“You mean Hidden Haven Development Company? Is that just a name you pulled out of a hat or does it have some sort of subliminal meaning?”

“No, it’s legitimate. A subsidiary of Stone Enterprises.”

“And you are Stone Enterprises, of course. That much I do know.”

He nodded. “Normally, I prefer to remain anonymous. It just makes things easier in the long run.”

She nodded. “Easier for you. That way you don’t have to face the people you’ve bullied and taken advantage of.”

“I take advantage of situations, not people,” he said, and she could see the fire of that conviction in his slate-colored eyes. He actually believed that baloney.

“Oh, good. I feel better already.”

“Look,” he said, impatience and irritation coloring his words. “Can we just get on with this? Do you want to sell me the property or not?”

Crossing her arms again, she asked in a defiant, split second decision, “What if I’ve changed my mind? What if I say the deal is off?”

And then, he did it. He pounced.

Pulling her across the table with a hand wrapped around her wrist, Stone brought Tara’s face close to his, his shimmering eyes moving over her hair and lips. “Oh, no, darling. It doesn’t quite work that way. Because you see, now, I want much more than that land, Tara.”

“You’re going to have to explain that,” she said, her face inches from his. “What else could you possibly want?”

Stone stared at the woman he was holding, his thoughts going back to yesterday, when he’d first met her. That particular encounter had kept him awake most of last night. He’d come so close to calling her in the middle of the night to prepare her, but around 3:00 a.m. had decided it wouldn’t matter. He’d probably never see Tara Parnell again after this sale was finalized.