“Now, Harry, we’ve quibbled about this for two years. My fees may be a little higher—”
“Substantially higher.”
“But I do the job in half the time. In the end, you pay the same, probably less.”
“It must be really tiresome lugging that ego around with you.”
“And it must be a real drag following rules all the time,” he countered.
Yes! she wanted to scream. But who would keep her father under control if she didn’t enforce the rules and regulations? Who would keep the company from bankruptcy?
“So, who’s allegedly after me this time?” she asked.
“Seems your fiancé got himself into a bit of financial trouble with the wrong people.”
Paige stiffened. “I do not now have, nor have I ever had, a fiancé.”
“Now there’s a surprise,” he muttered.
“Meaning?” The word skated across ice.
“Does the name Joey Falcon ring a bell?”
Joey Falcon, her fall from grace. She swallowed the embarrassment. “He asked me to marry him. I turned him down.”
“He used you as collateral.”
“How? And why would he?”
“Seems Falcon was on that cruise you took because he was hiding out from his...shall we call them creditors? He had a friend on the ship’s staff who gave him a passenger list. He zeroed in on you.”
“And here I’ve been thinking he fell for my charm and beauty.” Sarcasm coated her words, the self-deprecation genuine and lifelong, as natural to her as breathing and as likely to change as it would be for her to stop breathing.
She didn’t like a lot of change in her life, wasn’t comfortable with it. The only way to keep control was to establish and stay with a routine, physically and mentally. She spent a lot of effort adhering to the structure she enforced on her daily life, starting with a half hour of yoga in the morning and ending with a half hour bubble bath at night.
The only time in her adult life when she hadn’t followed that routine had resulted in disaster; she was sure she’d suffered a personality transformation for that single week recently because she’d substituted a walk on the deck of the cruise ship for her morning yoga, and dancing in the moonlight for her nighttime bubble bath.
Never again. She’d never, ever set aside the meditation and relaxation time she so desperately needed to maintain her inner peace merely for a frivolous moment of pleasure. Joey Falcon had cured her of that.
Paige sighed inwardly. She should have identified her restlessness before impulsively making reservations for a seven-day Caribbean cruise. She should have stopped and taken stock, written down and analyzed her reasons for going, then perhaps she wouldn’t have been susceptible to the very charming Joey Falcon. But for the first time in her life she’d acted and reacted without first weighing the pros and cons. And for the first time in her life she was embarrassed by her behavior.
Joey had leaned his arms against the railing beside her as the ship left port and had rarely left her side in the ensuing days. Usually a woman who didn’t command much notice, she was flattered by his attention, by the way he catered to her every whim. On the sixth day at sea he proposed, but by then reality had intruded. When he hadn’t been exuding charm, she’d seen a glimpse of something else—something that had made her uneasy. At the least, he’d been insincere. At the most? Not frightening, exactly, but not trustworthy, either.
He had refused to believe she didn’t want to continue seeing him and had called her daily for the past two weeks, had showered her with flowers and gifts. Her restlessness had been replaced with exasperation, followed by irritation, even a little fear.
“Actually, it’s a relief to know Joey was only greedy,” she said, breaking a long silence. “If he really was in love with me, I might never be rid of him. I assume he approached my father for the money.”
Rye shook himself to attention. Knowing Lloyd was driving allowed him to relax his guard, but Paige’s silence while she analyzed her situation had threatened to put him to sleep. “When Patrick refused to pay his debts,” he said through a yawn, “Falcon informed him that he’d been given an extension on the loan based on your engagement and the potential money available. Now he’s gone back into hiding, and his creditors want their money. Falcon insists they’ll grab you for ransom.”
“At least he warned us. That’s more than I would have given him credit for doing.”
“The report I saw indicates Falcon has major financial problems. Given a little more time, we should know in more detail what we’re up against.”
She shifted, impatient. “So I’m forced into hiding, too. Doesn’t that make my father a target?”
“He’s using a local security team.”
“How long do I have to stay in San Francisco?”
“Until Falcon’s been flushed out.”
“What if my meetings are done earlier?”
“The meetings were a ruse. You really are in hiding, Paige. You’re not to have contact with anyone but me. I’ll be in touch with Patrick.”
She held herself aloof, cool as a spring runoff, apparently unconcerned with the danger. But Rye knew her blood ran hotter than that. A little garter told him so.
And her “unfortunate adventure” told him that under that cool facade she craved excitement.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “To your home?”
“To a small, discreet hotel.”
“Why San Francisco? I know you live here, but with only a little investigating, anyone could find out you work for us occasionally. If your reputation is as farreaching as you’d like to believe—”
“I’m doing this as a favor to your father. He caught up with me by phone in London and begged me to help, so cut the insults, Paige. I landed at Logan, tracked you, then stayed awake the whole time watching over you. I’m tired.”
“If you flew in from London, you should have luggage. Where is it?”
“Being held at the airport until Lloyd can get over to pick it up.”
“This is idiotic! Why couldn’t we just hide out somewhere near home?”
“Because I have work to do. I can stay with you and also catch up on what’s been neglected while I’ve been gone.”
“You’ll be prorating your bill, I assume,” she said, her voice dripping honey.
“What?”
“Well, it’s only fair. Why should we pay while you work for other people?”
Rye didn’t know whether to laugh or explode at her relentless guardianship of O’Halloran Shipping funds. “I won’t be off the clock with you for a second, Harry.”
Lloyd swung the car into a driveway, negotiated a narrow road around a three-story house-turned-hotel, then stopped in front of a small building. The headlights offered a quick glimpse of a brick cottage sheltered by a profusion of climbing ivy and low bushes before the beams were doused, leaving only a soft yellow glow coming from a porch light.
“Wait here,” Rye ordered Paige before he left the car and followed the driver into the bungalow, which at one time served as a caretaker’s housing. A low fire gleamed from the hearth, the light casting flickering shadows around the impeccably furnished living room. “Everything secure?” he asked Lloyd, who came up behind him and deposited suitcases on the plush carpet.