Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3) Page 5

  As he set the empty tumbler down, a shudder ran through my father. He took a deep breath. I could see that he was fighting for control.

  When the mask of calm confidence was once more in place, if a bit askew, he said, “While he was telling you that, did Phelps happen to mention that the money he used to fend us off came from a Russian crime lord?”

  Under the circumstances, I would have been smarter to contain my disbelief but I couldn’t manage it.

  Coldly, I said, “I’m aware that Lucas deals with all sorts of people but he draws the line at anyone involved in criminal activity.”

  My father shook his head, as though my naivety dismayed him. “Yuri Volkov is one of those who took advantage of the turmoil Russia has gone through in recent decades to make himself obscenely rich. He can try all he likes to transform himself into a British gentleman but he’s still nothing more than a thug and a mobster.”

  I had no idea who he was talking about. Shaking my head, I demanded, “What does Yuri Vol-whatever have to do with any of this?”

  Grimly, my father said, “Lucas Phelps borrowed money from Volkov, then used it to outflank those of us who were trying to take over his company. He did that in a particularly aggressive and brutal way, quietly buying the debt that we’d incurred investing in various other development properties. By the time we realized what he was doing, it was too late.”

  His voice trailed off. He sounded tired suddenly, as though the weight of remembered defeats was too much to endure. Yet there he was, sitting in the SUV, surrounded by armed protectors, well dressed, well nourished, and above all, alive.

  I didn’t want to remember the cold, dismal little rooms that I’d inhabited and all those damn Ramen noodles. Far worse had been the slurs and cruelties, and the outright threats. Resentment rose in me. I forced it down, determined not to sink to any such level.

  Oblivious to my thoughts, he went on. “When Phelps called that debt in, he knew that we’d be in no position to repay it. He bankrupted us and ended up acquiring the same properties for pennies on the dollar. That’s how he got to where he is today.”

  He grimaced. “It’s perfectly possible to make millions agenting high end real estate. But to acquire the kind of wealth that Phelps commands takes a considerably different sort of mindset, one that stops at nothing to succeed.”

  I’d heard rumors of Lucas’ success in the business media but that was all they were--rumors. With his company privately held, no one knew for sure what he was worth or how he had gotten that way.

  Not that it made any difference. I wasn’t inclined to believe anything that my father said. His claims were outrageous, not to say bizarre.

  “So you’re saying that rather than lose his company to you and your friends, Lucas partnered with a Russian crime lord?”

  “Briefly,” my father admitted grudgingly. “He made so much that he was able to pay Volkov back in record time with interest and keep total control of his company.”

  Turning in the back seat of the SUV, he stared at me intently.

  “That’s my point, Emma. Phelps is utterly ruthless. He was even able to do business with an international mobster and come out the winner. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. That includes using you to get to me, no matter how much you get hurt in the process.”

  Ignoring the sudden tightness in my throat, I asked, “Why would he bother? What makes you of such interest to him?”

  My father shrugged. “Merely winning isn’t enough for him. He isn’t satisfied until he crushes an opponent into the ground.”

  No longer attempting to conceal his bitterness, he said, “And he’s ambitious beyond reason. Bringing me to what is so laughingly called justice would put some of the most powerful people in this city and beyond forever in his debt. People who were happy enough when I was making big money for them but who turned their backs on me at the first sign of trouble.”

  “I see…” The words were a placeholder intended to buy me a few moments as I struggled to come to terms with the inescapable reality that confronted me.

  My father appeared to have no conception of the harm he had done to others. Certainly, he had no concern about it. On the contrary, he was focused solely on himself.

  Some of those he’d defrauded were so wealthy that they were merely inconvenienced and angered by their losses. But other people had seen their entire way of life destroyed, some to such an extent that they weren’t able to go on living.

  Yet he could brush all that aside as though he’d done nothing more than make an honest mistake.

  Abruptly, my patience dissolved. Without waiting any longer for him to get around to telling me, I asked. “What do you want?” Exactly.”

  He looked surprised. “Isn’t that obvious? You’re my daughter, Emma. I love you. I’ve risked everything to come back for you.”

  For a moment, I thought that I must have misheard him. He couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like?

  Struggling to contain my shock, I said, “You want me to go with you?”

  “Of course, I do! I’ve wanted it every day that we’ve been apart. But I had to be certain that I could provide the kind of life you deserve. It’s taken time to acquire the right allies and secure my own position. This business with Phelps convinced me that I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  He glanced out the window at the two men standing guard beside the SUV before looking back at me. “You’ll have everything you can dream of, Emma. Starting with a new identity and the freedom to get on with your own life, to create your own future untouched by the past. Isn’t that exactly what you want?”

  There was a time when that would have been a dream come true for me. The chance to start fresh. And to still have the father I had loved so much and trusted so completely.

  Now it felt like a nightmare.

  All but choking, I said, “I can’t just go with you.”

  Surely, he didn’t expect me to do so right then? I glanced out the passenger window at the men hired to do his bidding. How far would he go for what he wanted?

  Quickly, I added, “People will wonder if I just disappear. They’ll ask questions. Lucas will certainly and as you said, he won’t stop.”

  To my great relief, my father nodded. “I understand that all too well, my dear. We have to act carefully. But we don’t have much time.”

  He reached over and patted my hand. His own felt chilled and a little clammy.

  “I’m counting on you to be my good, clever girl. My star. Just as you’ve always been.”

  The bile was back in my throat. I swallowed it down. In a strange sort of way, I felt that I had to protect not only myself but the child I had been. The little girl who was still there, deep inside me, bewildered and frightened by what was happening.

  The older, wiser me felt no such confusion. As much as I might wish otherwise, I couldn’t believe for a moment that my father had taken the risk of returning to New York for my sake. But what else could have drawn him?

  The answer crashed through my mind.

  The authorities had claimed all along that there was still money missing, enough to make a difference in the lives of many of those who John Whittaker had defrauded. It had been hidden so well that they never came close to finding it but I knew full well that they hadn’t given up. I had the impression that they never would.

  If my father had come for the money, I could understand why he wouldn’t want to leave any loose ends, including a daughter who had become involved with a man he had every reason to hate and fear. How much smarter to play on her sympathies while bribing her with the promise of a new life.

  My heart clenched painfully. Assuming that I made it out of the SUV, I could go to the authorities. It would be hard but I had no doubt that it was the right thing to do.

  But what would be the result? My father wouldn’t have so many armed guards around him--those I could see and perhaps more that I couldn’t--if he had any intention of allowing himself to be taken into custody.r />
  Imagining the confrontation that would result if such an attempt was made horrified me. Federal agents and local police could be injured or worse. So could innocent bystanders. And in the end, any chance of recovering the money would likely be gone forever.

  Even more stomach churning was the certainty that if Lucas got wind of what was happening, he would never agree to remain on the sidelines. I’d heard enough to understand that my father wouldn’t hesitate to harm him. On the contrary, he’d welcome the chance. He might even be trying to bring that about.

  A deep, dark chasm seemed to open suddenly at my feet. Staring into it, I knew in an instant of overwhelming clarity what I had to do. As difficult and painful as it was, I couldn’t allow Lucas to be harmed simply because he had come into my life and allowed me into his.

  But the only way to keep him safe was to deceive the deceiver, the very man who had proven himself to be one of greatest liars and dissemblers of the century. I had no confidence in my ability to do so but I had to try all the same.

  Softly, I said, “A new life is exactly what I want.”

  My words rang with conviction because they were true. I did want a new life, just not the one that my father was offering. My hopes and dreams, my greatest yearnings all lay with the very man he wanted to take me from. And who I was determined to protect from him no matter what the cost.

  John Whittaker took a deep breath, released it slowly, and gave me his best, most charming smile. The one that had told me that all was right in the world and that it always would be.

  “I knew that I could count on you,” he said.

  A flick of his finger drew the attention of one of the guards. The door on my side of the vehicle was opened.

  My father reached into his pocket, took out a cell phone, and handed it to me. “You’ll hear from me tomorrow,” he said as I got out. “Early. I’ll let you know then what arrangements I’ve made.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to tell me now but I didn’t dare do anything to rouse his suspicions. Instead, I looked at my father, straining to see the man I still wanted to believe that he had been.

  I couldn’t find any trace of him. The man in front of me was a stranger. Courteous and sincere on the surface, but underneath--? I wasn’t sure what was there but I suspected that I would be better off not knowing.

  “You won’t need to bring very much with you,” he added. “Just make sure that you don’t leave behind anything that you really care about.”

  I nodded quickly, anxious to be gone. “Of course.”

  As soon as I got out of the SUV, one of the guards got in, riding shotgun next to the driver. The others got into the vehicle parked nearby.

  I stood on the sidewalk, watching as they pulled into traffic, turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

  Only then did a low moan escape me. Sagging against the nearest wall, I dragged in air as I struggled against the wave of combined anger and grief that threatened to drive me to my knees.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucas

  Emma wasn’t in the apartment when I got there. Late afternoon sunlight flowed through the high windows into the empty living room. I could hear the faint drone of traffic from below but otherwise there was only silence echoing in a space that felt far too big without her.

  I frowned. Why wasn’t she back yet? Were the girls still at lunch? If they were running this late, more than a few mimosas or whatever were likely to be involved. Maybe I should pick her up.

  I pulled out my phone and hit her number. The call went straight to voice mail. Damn! Why hadn’t I put security on her the moment she agreed to go the gala? I’d known that there would be photographs. They could have drawn the attention of any number of weirdos. Not to mention the potential danger to her if her father really was back in the city.

  I speed dialed Caroline. My sister answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, bro’. Whazzup?”

  I hesitated. Caro had that in-the-zone tone that she got whenever she was deep into a heavy duty coding project. Usually, she didn’t bother to pick up then but apparently she was making an exception for me.

  Quickly, I said, “I’m at the apartment. Emma isn’t here. Any idea where she went after lunch?”

  “Nope… Walk? Shopping?”

  “Maybe…”

  Something in my own voice must have alerted her that my curiosity was more than casual. She was a lot more focused as she asked, “What’s going on?”

  I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “Probably nothing. I’m just a little anxious, that’s all.”

  “You? Mister Has-Ice-Water-In-His-Veins? You never let anything get to you.”

  That wasn’t true. I was just good at hiding it. Especially from a younger sister who I’d never wanted to have to worry about anything.

  “Yeah, well, things change. I’m just concerned about her, that’s all.”

  Silence for a moment as her razor-sharp brain processed that. “She seemed fine at lunch. A little pre-occupied maybe but nothing more.”

  “She’s had a lot of practice concealing her emotions.” Pot. Kettle. Maybe I should have tried opening up to her more. If I had, she might have trusted me enough to tell me whatever was bothering her.

  “Because of the thing with her father a few years ago? That must have sucked but she seems to have come through it okay.”

  My sister paused again, then added, “She’s a smart, gorgeous, funny, genuinely nice human being of the female persuasion. And she’d got real feelings for you. I hope you’re smart enough to realize that.”

  Relationship advice from my baby sister? Coming on top of the same from Feeney the Tattooed Fed? How had I fallen this low?

  But I was smiling despite myself. “I’m glad you like her. I figured that you would.”

  “I really do…which is why I really hope that I didn’t say anything out of turn.”

  Caro say something she shouldn’t have? Only every other time she opened her mouth. My sister was nothing if not candid but she didn’t have a mean bone in her body. I’d never heard her utter a malicious word about anyone or seen her act out of spite. So what was she worried about?

  “You? What could you have said?”

  “I might have mentioned something about the repairs to your loft being almost finished.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “Did you?”

  “Yeah and… I might have asked if you and Emma would be moving in there together.” Quickly, she added, “I wasn’t trying to start anything, honestly. I just wanted some idea about how serious she is about you since you really seem to care about her.”

  I wouldn’t mind knowing that either. Emma’s insistence at the beginning of our relationship that we were strictly temporary still bugged the hell out of me.

  I told myself that we’d evolved since then. Roller coaster rides, blazing hot sex--she let me spank her and didn’t deck me!--and all the conversation, laughs and what not that we’d shared had seen to that. But I still didn’t know for sure that she’d changed her mind.

  The plain fact was that she knocked me off balance in a way that I’d never experienced before, not remotely.

  No woman could be more passionate and giving in bed or anywhere else. I’d never felt anything close to what I did with her and I sure as hell didn’t want to ever go looking for it anywhere else.

  She was it for me. Realizing that should have been terrifying and it was in a way. The thought of her being hurt or frightened or simply unhappy felt like a knife twisting in my gut. But admitting how I felt also made me feel rock steady. I had a clear path into a future that I wanted more than anything. All I had to do was figure out how to get us both there.

  “Anything else?” I asked. “Might as well make a full confession while you’re at it.”

  In a rush, my sibling said, “I told Emma that Mom is coming back from London and is looking forward to meeting her.”

  That was more serious. I loved my mom but a couple of her fr
iends had become grandmothers in the last few years. To hear her tell it, there was no greater joy in the world to, as she put it, “hold a precious grandchild in your arms and know that everything you’ve ever gone through in your life has been worthwhile.”

  Apparently, Jared, Caro and I were just necessary stepping stones on the way to the ultimate, hallowed state of grandmother-hood. Who knew all those years growing up surrounded by maternal love? She was just bidding her time.

  “And Mom knows about Emma how?” I asked cautiously.

  “Jeez, how would I know? The photos from the gala? Or I might possibly, I can’t quite recall, have said something… You’re not upset, are you?”

  “Of course I’m not,” I assured her. If Emma really was off somewhere thinking about moving in with me and meeting my mother, I’d be relieved. However anxious that might make her, I could deal with it. Still, I wasn’t about to let my sister off the hook that easily.

  “I’ll just return the favor when you’re finally serious about someone,” I said.

  Caro snorted. “Don’t hold your breath, big bro’. I’d rather cuddle up with a warm laptop than any man I’ve met.”

  I had mixed feelings about that. The last thing I wanted was for Caro to ever settle for someone but I didn’t want her to be alone either. I could worry about my sister’s love life later. First, I had my own to straighten out.

  I got off the phone a few minutes later and tried Emma’s number again. It still wasn’t answering. Could she possibly be any more frustrating?

  I needed to think--calmly and rationally, two states of mind that thoughts of Emma definitely did not encourage.

  It was a beautiful day. She’d had few chances to get out of the apartment. Why couldn’t I accept that she might have just gone for a walk?

  Because she was worried and worse. Spooked, as I’d told Feeney. She was out there somewhere, coping with god-only-knew what. And she’d left me helpless to do anything about it.

  Obeying an impulse that I hadn’t know I could possess, I was about to hurtle my cell into the nearest wall when the doors at the front of the apartment opened. The object of all my frustration and concern walked in.