Private Lives. Karen Young

for the space of a heartbeat. Then, in burst of rage, he lunged at her, forcing her face up to his in a killing grip. “What the hell was this all about then?”

      She could barely breathe and her heart raced, but fright and despair combined in a reckless cocktail. She was tired of him thinking all it took was a quick orgasm and she’d readily do his bidding. She caught at his hand and tried to free herself. “What’s this all about?” she repeated, her mouth twisting in disgust. “It is so totally obvious what this, as you call it, is about, Austin. It’s just more of your disgusting way of manipulating me with sex. You really must think I’m a complete idiot.”

      He shoved away, releasing her, but still breathing hard with the force of his rage. “I didn’t notice any disgust when you were coming so hard I practically had to hold you down or the whole goddamned neighborhood would have heard you screaming.”

      “I didn’t scream.”

      He snorted something obscene. With shoulders hunched over the wheel, he looked straight ahead. “Next you’ll be saying you didn’t come.”

      “No, I came. Thanks for that, I guess. I’m just disgusted with myself for getting in this situation. I knew what you were doing when I agreed to leave with you today and I did it anyway. I knew what you were doing when you came on to me just now and I did it anyway. It was weak of me. Sick, even. But having sex didn’t turn my brain to complete mush. Here’s the deal, Austin. I’m not agreeing to defy the judge, if that was your aim. I would be an idiot to do that. I’m going to call Maude and arrange another meeting with your lawyer.”

      “If you mean Ryan, I fired his sorry ass!” he snarled.

      “Then I imagine the judge will appoint someone to negotiate.”

      He turned then to look at her. The power of that look was so explosive that it was nearly palpable in the car. “You’re not going to get away with this, Gina.” His voice was soft and deadly, so threatening that she felt a cold chill. He waited a few moments—for her, harrowing moments—then when she remained stonily silent, he started the Porsche and pulled out of the parking lot. She braced for a wild and reckless ride, but he drove the scant mile to Liz’s house at a moderate pace. It was so out of character that she was more unnerved than she would have been had he reverted to habit. Still, she sat with her arms wrapped around herself and her teeth clamped to keep them from chattering. Then, finally, Liz’s street. And escape. She was out of the car and hurrying away almost before he stopped. Once safely at Liz’s front door, she stole a wary glance back and saw that he was out and watching her from over the top of the Porsche. Just…watching.

      If looks could kill.

      Shivering, she slipped inside and quickly closed the door behind her.

      Curtiss Leggett sat in the library of his splendid home in River Oaks waiting for Austin. He’d left messages on his son’s cell phone, his home phone and the pager he carried. No matter what the hour, he told Austin, he would expect to see him.

      Women, the disgruntled lawyer thought, swirling the best brandy money could buy in a Baccarat snifter. How his life would have been eased without the complication of women, his ex-wife, his many mistresses, his daughter, now married to some itinerant artist out in some godforsaken corner of California. Even his mother, and he didn’t give a damn whether her soul rested peacefully or not. What a domineering tyrant she’d been. An occasional display of masculinity from his father would have shown her who was boss, but his father had buried himself in his professorial work and never noticed or cared about anything else. Including Curtiss.

      That was not the way Curtiss Leggett had run his life.

      At the sound of a key in the lock, he stirred in the deep leather chair, but didn’t get to his feet. He wouldn’t bother. As spineless as Austin was, the lecture and subsequent threat could be delivered as effectively in the comfort of his chair as otherwise. Thirty-six years old and Curtiss still had to wipe his ass for him. His son was a great disappointment to him. His daughter, Julia, should have been his heir. She was full of defiance, possibly as bright as Curtiss himself. Focused. An independent thinker. As God was his witness, he couldn’t see any strength in Austin.

      Not the kind of strength evident in Ryan Paxton. Now, there was a real man, Texas born and bred, tough as nails, smart as a whip. Steel in his backbone, too. Leggett sighed, bringing the snifter up to his mouth. And look at his old man. Killed himself. No steel there. A weakling. Genes were odd things.

      He heard the door open. Then close. “In here, boy!” he called, finishing off the brandy.

      “How are you, Dad?” Austin entered the library, his smile wary, eyes cautious. He scanned the room, saw that his father was alone. “Sorry I couldn’t make it over until now, but I had an appointment that couldn’t be rescheduled.” He watched Curtiss set the snifter on the table at his elbow and then walked over to the sideboard to pour himself a brandy.

      “Hold up there. You can drink after I’ve had my say.”

      Austin put the glass back and slowly turned to face his father. “Is something wrong?”

      “Wrong? Is something wrong, you ask?” Curtiss had planned to stay in his chair, but found he had to get up or, swear to God, he’d blow a gasket. “I don’t want to think you’re as stupid as it appears, Austin, but what I learned today makes me wonder.” He shot a beetle-browed look at his first born. “You finally had the balls to dump the trailer trash slut you’ve been shacked up with for more years than I want to think about, but now instead of a clean break, you get yourself called before Judge Hetherington and he hears that you’ve been knocking her around. Have I got it right, Austin?”

      “She’s lying.”

      “Ryan Paxton doesn’t think so.”

      “You’ve seen Ryan? He’s talked to you about this?” Austin slammed a hand down on the sideboard. “Goddamn it! That’s a breach of client-attorney privilege. Did he come around whining to you about the judgment?”

      “He came to bring me a report of the hearing because I asked for it.”

      Austin made a dismissive sound. “Well, he sure isn’t the legal eagle you think he is, Dad. I could have represented myself and come out of this looking better.”

      Curtiss Leggett simply stood looking at his son for a beat or two before turning in disgust. He stared at the dead ashes in his fireplace for another long moment before turning to face Austin. “I want the truth and I want it plain and simple. Don’t lie to me, I warn you. Have you been knocking that bitch around?”

      “What kind of question is—”

      “Did you hear me?” It was a roar and it stopped Austin in his tracks and killed whatever defense he might have attempted. Another moment passed while Curtiss calmed himself. “Have you been slapping her around?” he repeated, speaking each word precisely.

      Austin cleared his throat, looked anywhere but into the knowing eyes of his father. “We have disagreements like most couples.”

      “And you express yourself with your fists?”

      “Do I hear outrage, Dad?” Austin’s tone was suddenly less subservient. When Curtiss didn’t reply, Austin was emboldened. “I didn’t think so.”

      “Watch yourself, Austin.”

      “Yeah, it’s me we’re talking about now, not you, eh, Dad?” Austin reached for a glass in defiance of his old man and recklessly poured brandy in it. Then eyeball to eyeball with Curtiss, he tossed most of it back in one gulp. “I don’t know why you’d be shocked,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It couldn’t come as a shock to you, a man handling a troublesome woman with a little show of force. I sure didn’t act shocked when you did it. I guess I thought everybody’s mom wore sunglasses in the house as a regular thing, night or day. Until I wised up.”

      “I’m not shocked that you did it, Austin,” Curtiss said in disgust, not bothering to deny what was fact. Hell, it was