Scandals from the Third Bride

“They don’t all paint house murals and I don’t want your agency. It’s you I want to hire.”

“No! I won’t work for you.”

“I’ve been told by people in Houston, Chicago and L.A., that you’re the best in the country at painting murals, interior or exterior.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said, not really caring at the moment what he’d learned about her company or her. Why did he have to come back so damned handsome and so self-assured?

“I’ve heard that from people who had no idea where I grew up or that I knew you. You’re recommended by gallery people, museums and your former customers. I’ve seen your work and it’s top-notch. I told you, I prefer the best.”

“That’s flattering, but there are others who are skilled at their craft and they can create scenes that will be as artistic as any I paint,” she replied, certain that there was no way he could talk her into working for him.

“I’ve heard differently.”

“I promise you, there are others who can paint as well. Graham Trevor is one. He’s excellent, and there are plenty of examples of his work for you to view. A mural is a simple thing to do.”

“Right, Katherine, if you’re good at doing them. Otherwise, it’s a difficult challenge.” Cade leaned back in his chair with one hand on his hip. “I don’t want Graham Trevor or anyone else except you. Surely we can both get past what happened nine years ago.”

“No, I can’t! I don’t want to. I hate you for what you did and I don’t want to work with you now. How plain do I have to say it?” she cried. She hurt and he was opening old wounds. Worst of all, right now in the midst of all their bickering, she wanted his arms around her.

“I figured by now that you would have let go of the past. It’s been over a long time,” he said and his words cut like a knife. How could he dismiss the past so easily when it had hurt so badly? But maybe it hadn’t hurt him at all, she reminded herself.

“I’m sure it’s forgotten for you. Obviously, it was over for you before you left Texas nine years ago.”

“We don’t have to be together for you to accept me as your client. I’ll pay you well.”

“I’m sure you would, but I don’t want your money, your business or anything to do with you,” she said, absolutely certain that there weren’t any circumstances in which she would agree to work for him.

They halted their discussion because the waiter came to take their dinner order. Even though she preferred prime rib, she didn’t want to give Cade the satisfaction of thinking she was the same person as she used to be. “I’ll have the pecan-crusted trout,” she said and the waiter nodded. She glanced at Cade to see a questioning expression as he ordered lobster. As soon as the waiter left, Cade leaned forward.

“So prime rib is no longer first choice with you?”

“No. Most all of my choices have changed through the years.”

He stared at her with a look of speculation. “There’s no reason to argue all evening. Let’s settle this right now.” While he continued to watch her, he took out a cellular phone and spoke so quietly, she could barely hear him. He put away the phone and stood, coming around to hold her chair.

“Let me show you something,” he said, and her curiosity was stirred because she couldn’t imagine what he intended. Walking close beside her, he took her arm. Before they left the restaurant, Cade paused to tell the maitre d’ to delay their dinners until they returned. Her curiosity grew over where they were going. They left the building and crossed the street to one of Fort Worth’s best hotels.

“I have a room here. That’s why we’re eating at the Milington Club instead of the Petroleum Club tonight. The Milington is closer. I want to show you something that I intended to show you after dinner.”

She balked and stopped walking. “Your hotel room?”

“That’s where we’re going. I have blueprints of the home I’m building. It won’t hurt you to come up and look and then we’ll go right back for dinner.”

“I don’t need to see any blueprints,” she insisted. “We have nothing to discuss.”

“Yes, we do. I want to talk to you about murals for my house.”

“There isn’t enough money in the world for you to hire me to paint for you,” she said, facing him and touching his chest with her index finger. “No, Cade.” Seething, she burned and perspiration dotted her forehead. She wanted away from him. At any moment she was afraid she would lose the iron control she was exercising and let fly all the accusations she had stored up for nine long years. And that last day was as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday. To her surprise, Cade’s appearance had brought back the monumental hurt when she had thought she had finally been free of it.

“There might be a price that you’d agree to,” he answered quietly. “I have blueprints. At least look at what I want.”

“No!” she cried. “There’s no point in it. None! I’m not working for you and opening up old wounds or causing myself anguish. You’ve hurt me enough, dammit!”

“‘Dammit’ is right,” he charged in a low voice. “This is work, not our private lives. It’s just that everyone—I mean all the galleries and the ad people and the artists—says that you’re the best. Start being the professional that I know you are,” he ordered. “We have the rest of the evening and nothing to do except eat or shout at each other about past hurts or discuss the paintings I intend to have in my new house. Come look at my blueprints.” He tugged lightly on her arm. “You’re the expert. Come look.”

Reluctantly, she nodded and got another warm smile. As they crossed the lobby, he stopped at the desk to pick up a large roll of papers.

In silence they took the elevator to a suite on the top floor of the hotel. Cade unlocked the door and held it open for her.

She entered a large living area with beige and white decor. An adjoining dining area held a table with chairs for eight. Through open doors she could see two bedrooms and beyond sliding glass doors was a balcony with an iron table and chairs.

Cade shed his coat, and she remembered times he had taken off his coat before turning to make love to her. Her mouth went dry as he slipped out of the coat and draped it over a chair. When she had known him before he had been fit, muscled and strong. She guessed that hadn’t changed.

As she watched, Cade cleared a crystal vase of fresh flowers off the dining table and she joined him while he opened the blueprints. No way did she want to work for him or even have someone else in her firm hired by him. She was conscious he stood only a couple of feet away. She looked at his well-shaped hands as he smoothed out the stiff paper. He had become far more appealing, but she supposed she saw some of the same things in him now that she had when they had been younger and madly in love.

In another reminder of how successful he had become, she looked down at the prints that held a drawing of a Greek Revival mansion that had two immense wings and was three stories tall. Surprised, she glanced into his dark eyes that as so often before, caught and held her, making her forget what she had intended to say. His dark eyebrows arched questioningly.

“What is it, Katherine?” he asked.

She didn’t want to admit that she had lost her train of thought. “You left here without funds. You’ve done well, Cade.”

“I’ve been lucky,” he said in an offhand manner as if he hadn’t done anything more than the next person. “Here’s my house. It’s under construction and I’m not living there now. I want murals in six of the rooms.”

“Cade, this is such a waste of time,” she said in exasperation. She couldn’t imagine working for him because she was having difficulty getting through an evening with him.

“Give me a price,” he urged, facing her. His calmness and persistence were wearing her patience thin.

“No, I won’t. Don’t you realize that I absolutely have hated you for walking out on our wedding? Do you have any idea how that hurt?” she asked, shaking as she let go some of her restraint. His patient silence irritated her even further.

“You humiliated me and broke my heart!” she cried out. “I was devastated. I didn’t imagine anything could hurt like I did!” she exclaimed. The words came tumbling out and now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. “You didn’t give me one reason why, or one scrap of a warning. You were gone. Running out on me in the worst, cruelest possible way.”

He flinched and paled beneath his tan, but he had an inscrutable expression that hid his feelings.

Suddenly she let go, all the pent-up fury boiling to the surface, and she reached out to slap him.

Like lightning he caught her wrist and held her firmly, but not tightly enough to hurt her. “You’re not going to strike me when you don’t know why or what occurred back then,” he said.

They were both breathing hard, tension drawn tightly between them while he held her wrist. Rage consumed her. Fire flashed in his dark eyes and the clash between them was tangible. While they stared at each other, he clamped his jaw tightly shut as if holding back harsh words, which was exactly what she was trying to do. The moment drew out and then, as they stared at each other, her anger changed.

While she gazed into depths of brown, he looked at her mouth. When he did, her lips tingled. From the very first his kisses always melted her and erased any resistance to him.

Desire flamed, building heat inside her. They both were breathing hard. For an instant, everything else fell away except hunger for his kiss. She almost leaned toward him, started to and then realized what she was doing. She yanked her head back and shook her shoulders.

“Damn you, Cade. And you’re still not going to explain why you walked out.”

“I didn’t come back to Texas to dredge up old hurts and fling accusations. That’s over,” he said, releasing her wrist. “I’m not going there because we could hurt each other more than ever. There’s no point in stirring up resentment over the past. Not now. You were hurt at the time and for that I’m sorry,” he said with a dismissal that added to her fury. Yet even as his voice remained calm, she could feel the tension stretching and fiery sparks flying between them, invisible, yet tangible.

“Sorry is so completely inadequate!” she cried, jerking her arm free and spinning away from him to walk to the window again. Tears threatened, and she fought to get a grip because she didn’t intend to shed one tear over him. Not after all this time and all the control she had achieved. Where was all that restraint she had maintained through the years?