Heart of Stone. Lenora Worth

things were all right between them. She’d busied herself with work and redecorating, endless shopping, with keeping the girls active, with social responsibilities, just to hide her pain. When one charge card ran out, Chad had simply handed her another one. She never questioned him. He’d fixed it. He’d taken care of things.

      Well, you didn’t do that, did you, Chad? You didn’t really take care of anything. And neither did I. And now, her children would have to pay for their parents’ mistakes.

      Now, Tara was left to deal with the debt collectors. And the shame. Lowering her head into her hands, she said out loud, “Oh, Chad, where did we go wrong?”

      “You went wrong by trusting your husband in the first place.”

      Tara lifted her head, the familiarity of that voice causing the nerves she’d kept at bay to go into a spinning whirl of emotion. “You,” she said as she sat there, unable to push out of the chair. “You,” she repeated, realization dawning on her like a stormy sunrise.

      “Me.”

      Stone Dempsey walked into the room and threw his briefcase on the mahogany table with the smug air of someone who’d just won the lottery. He was followed by Brandy and an entourage of lawyers and accountants, which only made Tara sickeningly aware of how she must look, slumped in the chair in utter defeat.

      Well, she wasn’t defeated yet. She had something Stone Dempsey wanted. And now that she knew who was behind the bid to buy her precious land, she wouldn’t sell it so easily. Not until she was sure she was doing the right thing for her girls.

      Rising up, she adjusted her white linen suit and looked across the conference table at him. “You could have told me yesterday at the wedding. You could have given me that small courtesy.”

      He calmly placed both hands on the table, then stared across at her, making her heart skip. “What, and spoil the happy occasion? I didn’t want to do that.” His harsh, unyielding gaze moved over her face, then he added, “And besides, as you so graciously pointed out, I probably won’t stick around long enough to worry you. So what’s the point?”

      Anger made her look him straight in the eye. “The point is—Mr. Dempsey—that for months now I’ve been trying to sell my land, and for months now someone, somewhere has managed to squelch every other offer that’s been made. That same someone, who refused to be identified, I might add, doesn’t want to give me a fair amount for my land, but he sure doesn’t want anyone else to get it, either.” Taking a calming breath, she leaned across the table, the fire inside her belly giving her the much needed fuel to tell him exactly what she thought of his underhanded tactics. “The point is—you’ve been evasive and elusive, teasing me with promises all this time so I wouldn’t sell the land to someone else, but never really giving me a firm answer regarding my asking price. I don’t appreciate it, but there it is.” Lifting away, she stood back, her eyes locking with his. “And I don’t think I like you, but here you stand.” She shot him a look she hoped showed her disdain. “Maybe your family was right about you, after all.”

      Tara realized her mistake the minute the words shot out of her mouth. Stone didn’t move a muscle, but she saw the twitching in his jaw, saw the flicker of acknowledged pain in the shattered reflection of his eyes before they became as glassy as a broken mirror.

      She wished she hadn’t mentioned his family.

      “Leave us, please,” he said with a wave of his hand to the stunned group still gathered at the open double doors.

      An older, white-haired man wearing a dark suit spoke up. Tara recognized him as the man she’d been doing business with up to now, the go-between, Griffin Smith. “Stone, I don’t think—”

      “I said leave me alone with Mrs. Parnell, Griffin,” Stone replied, his firm, soft-spoken tone leaving no room for arguments.

      The room cleared quickly. Brandy gave them a wide-eyed look, then discreetly closed the door.

      And then they were left, staring across the table at each other.

      Refusing to be intimidated by a man who had deliberately tricked her, Tara once again put her hands down on the cool smooth-surfaced table, then stared across at him, wary, half expecting him to lunge at her.

      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