Return to Mariposa

Chapter 17

Iwoke up in my own bed with the oddest sensation suffusing my body. Something was devastatingly wrong, and something was so very right. I lay still, and let the memories wash over me. Granda was dead. And I had had sex with Ian the Wretch.

Guilt washed over me. He’d thought I was Bella, cool, manipulative Bella, who hadn’t a vulnerable bone in her body. Instead, it was soft-hearted Podge, blindly seeking comfort from the one person she trusted. And it was true—I trusted Ian, even if he despised me, or was it Bella he despised? It was both of us, two liars who’d played him for a fool. When I told him the truth, he would never forgive me.

But did I need to tell him the truth? What kind of difference would it make in the long run? I’d be gone and it would be up to Bella to explain what we’d done. I’d gone past the point of berating myself for my stupidity—now I was having to learn to live with the incredible mess I’d made.

I barely remembered Ian carrying me back here. I’d been so tired, so awash in emotions that I hadn’t paid attention as he tucked me into bed. As a lover he was...formidable.

After last night, all I could think of was his long, muscled body, the smell of his skin, the texture of the hair on his legs, the taste of him in my mouth, the marks he’d left on my body. Even Bella’s million-dollar makeup couldn’t cover up all traces of our night together.

The first thing I did was take a shower to try to wash away the haze that still clung to me. Today would be a tough day, even if I hadn’t made the abysmal mistake of going to bed with my vaunted enemy. Granda was gone, and I had spent the night in ecstasy. Ian had been right about everything he’d said about me—I was a liar and a cheat.

I flopped back down the bed, wrapped only in a towel. I had no right to mourn the man I’d been lying to, and I lay there, silent and dry-eyed, staring into the shadows. At last, I could leave. Ian would be hating me after last night’s weakness—he would probably prefer it if I weren’t around for the funeral, and what would Bella do? Probably skip it to go shopping.

Paris awaited me, and I was now free of any obligation. I’d done what I’d promised Bella, I’d had my time with Granda. Even if my tears had finally dried up, they would emerge again, once I was safely back in the States and trying to resurrect my old life.

Why had I ever listened to Bella? She’d caught me at a vulnerable time, missing my family, but I’d been a fool to say yes. It had been so long since I’d seen Granda—my grief would have been sincere but not so intense if he’d simply stayed a memory. Now everything I’d loved and hated about him had come back, and I couldn’t view his passing with anything close to equanimity. It didn’t matter that he”d live a long life and was ready to go. I hadn’t been ready to lose him.

And I hadn’t needed to realize how I felt about Ian the Wretch. Except it hadn’t been his wretchedness that had called to me, it was his rare, undeniable sweetness. But that sweetness was for someone else, not the real Bella, not the lying Podge. We were miles apart, and always would be.

I needed to go home and lick my wounds—even the idea of Paris couldn’t cheer me. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry, and the night in Ian’s bed had denied me that option. The best I could do was run.

It didn’t takeme long to pack. I left the accoutrements of Bella’s life in the closet—silk jumpsuits and cocktail dresses, tailored suits and thousand-dollar jeans. Instead, I made do with the sundresses and sandals I’d purchased in town. I applied the makeup carefully, making my last be the best, and I went downstairs in one of Bella’s less garish day dresses, the only one in a relatively sober shade of blue.

Mary Alice and Valerie were sitting in the women’s salon, Mary Alice stretched out on my chaise with a pale hand held to her forehead, the remains of a hearty lunch on the coffee table beside her. When she heard me come in, she lowered her hand to look at me balefully.

“Had a long enough beauty sleep?” she inquired peevishly, while Valerie made a soft noise of protest.

“I’m leaving,” I said abruptly, in no mood to justify my grief. “We don’t need to fight over him anymore.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Ian’s gone to get the lawyer for the reading of the will, and Marcus isn’t back yet.”

“I don’t need to hear the will—I doubt I’ll be mentioned.”

“Don’t be coy, Bella,” Mary Alice shot back. “I saw the way you sucked up to him, turning him against the rest of us. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left you the whole kit and kaboodle.”

“I doubt it,” I drawled as best I could. It was a horrifying thought. I’d have no choice but to explain who I was, and I could just imagine the cool contempt in Ian’s eyes. “Where’s Marcus?”

“Apparently, he left early last night, before Granda passed,” Valerie answered, earning a censorious look from her older sister. “He said he wanted to get you a present to cheer you up.”

Was Marcus really that dense that he thought a present would be suitable recompense for the loss of my grandfather? I was afraid he was.

“I’m not in the mood for presents, nor for reading the will. Someone can let me know if I come out a pauper or an heiress. In the meantime, I need to see if Maldonado can drive me to the airport.”

“Maldonado went with Ian to make arrangements for the funeral and reception. There’s no one here to drive you,” Mary Alice said.

“Don’t you want to get rid of me?” I asked, desperate. “You could drive...”

“They took the Mercedes. The only thing left are farm vehicles and I’m hardly likely to drive one of those. We’ll just have to get along until Ian gets back and gets rid of you.”

“Who’s getting rid of Bella?” Marcus’s voice boomed into the room. He had a huge smile on his face, and his bright blue eyes were unshadowed.

“No one,” I answered.

“Why all the long faces? Granda will recover—he always does, and the meantime I brought you the most fabulous present to celebrate our engagement...”

“We’re not engaged,” I said. “And Granda died last night.”

Marcus blinked in disbelief. “No,” he said flatly.

“Yes,” Mary Alice broke in, blowing her nose vigorously and wiping away her nonexistent tears. “And your fiancée wants to get away as soon as she can. I told her that was impossible but...”

“Will you drive me to the airport?” I interrupted as I looked at Marcus. “There’s no need for me to be here anymore, and I need to get back to...” I was about to say New Hampshire before I thought better of it.

“But your present?” Marcus protested, not looking particularly distraught at Granda’s death.

“For heaven’s sake, what is it?” Mary Alice demanded.

“A new Alfa,” he said, preening a bit. “Ian said your old one was totaled, and I know how much you loved that car.”

“You bought me a new Alfa?” I demanded in stunned disbelief. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I love you,” Marcus said as explanation, and I wanted to shake him. “And we’re all about to come into quite a bit of money—this’ll be a drop in the bucket.”

“I’ll drive that to the airport and you can arrange for someone to pick it up,” I said tightly, ignoring the fact that I couldn’t drive stick. I could figure it out. “I don’t need a new car.”

“Where’s Ian?”

“Making arrangements,” Mary Alice and Valerie spoke in unison.

“Well, you certainly can’t leave before we bury the old man. How would that look?” Marcus was now looking suitably chagrined, and I wanted to tell him I didn’t give a damn, I didn’t belong here, I wasn’t wanted here, I just needed to be home, wherever that might be.

“Don’t worry, Marcus,” Mary Alice said. “She’s not going anywhere. Not until Ian says she can.”

“Ian can go...” I didn’t finish the sentence when I heard the door open and the sound of male voices reached us. “He must be back.”

He came into the room wearing a sober black suit, an older man with a briefcase beside him. I’d never seen Ian in anything but jeans, and the sight of him was formidable. I immediately focused my gaze on his left shoulder—there was no way I could meet his eyes.

I could feel the damned color flood my skin. I shouldn’t even be thinking of last night, but something subconscious sprang to life, and there was no part of him I could look at without remembering. His mouth, everywhere. His clever, wicked hands.

“This is Mr. Fergell, Granda’s lawyer,” Ian announced to the room in general, and I knew he was avoiding looking at me as well. “We’ll be gathering for the reading of the will after lunch in the library. The service and reception will be in three days—that was the soonest we could manage. Any of you could always leave and come back. Or not,” he added, and I knew he meant me. For some reason, I wasn’t going to be allowed to escape, no matter how hard I tried.

Mary Alice immediately began to complain, but I tuned her out as I took a tentative glance at Ian when I was certain he wasn’t looking.

He was. Our eyes met, and his cool gaze was like a punch in the stomach. What had I expected—the tender lover he’d showed me last night? “We need to talk,” he said grimly. “I’ll get Mr. Fergell settled and you can meet me in the estate office.”

“Oh, don’t let us disturb you.” Mary Alice’s voice was thick with irony.

Even she quailed slightly beneath his withering glance. I ignored him. If he thought I was going to present myself to be yelled at, he was sadly mistaken. “I have things to do,” I said coolly.

“Show up,” he said. “Don’t make me come and find you.”

There was no missing the threat in his voice. I watched him go, considering my choices. I turned to Marcus, who had been watching all this in silence. “Will you drive me to the airport?” I demanded abruptly.

“Ian wants to see you,” he said uneasily.

“I don’t want to see him. I want to get out of here.”

“No one’s stopping you,” Mary Alice snapped.

“Everyone’s stopping me. Will you take me, Marcus?”

He shook his head. “Talk to Ian first, then we’ll see. I don’t think you really want to leave before we bury Granda.”

“He’s gone,” I said flatly. “It won’t make any difference whether I’m here or not.”

“Talk to Ian.”

That was the last thing I wanted to do. My earlier determination to tell him the truth had vanished in front of his cold glance. Clearly, he thought the most important night of my life was a big mistake, and I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to hear the will either—Granda was a fair man. He would leave enough for everyone, and when Bella showed up, she could claim her share and make her explanations. I didn’t want to see any of them again.

I was heading upstairs when he caught me, grabbing me by the wrist and stopping my forward flight. “I said we needed to talk.”

I yanked, but he held tight, and I considered kicking him in the shins. Instead, I waited for him to remember that touching me was the last thing he wanted to be doing, which didn’t take long.

“What about?” I said, resisting the impulse to run up the stairs. He’d probably come after me, and I didn’t want him to have an excuse to put his hands on me again. Not when a wicked part of me wanted it.

“About last night,” he snapped. “It was a mistake.”

I let out a long-suffering sigh. “I didn’t see you putting up a fight.”

“It meant nothing. Just a normal biological reaction to stress.”

“You pompous asshole,” I shot back. My wrist hurt from where he’d grabbed me, but his words were far more painful. “It was comfort.”

“It was lust,” he said flatly. “There’s no need to make a big deal out of it. It’s not as if we haven’t done it before.”

That was enough to shock me. Bella had slept with Ian, the man she insisted she hated? Bella had shared what I had last night? I wanted to throw up.

“Do you have to bring that up?” I said in my best Bella drawl, hoping my face didn’t show how stricken I was. “It’s ancient history.”

“I just wanted to make sure you know it didn’t mean anything.”

“Of course it didn’t. In fact, I don’t see any point in me staying here any longer. Surely there’s someone here who can drive me to the airport. I’m going to Paris.”

He let out a snort of disgust. “Not now, you’re not. We’ve got a grandfather to bury, and we need to present a united front.”

“No!” I cried, near the breaking point. “I stayed for Granda’s sake. I’m not staying for yours.”

“You can always walk,” he said. “We’re reading the will in less than an hour now. Maybe Granda left you enough to buy you a new car.”

“Marcus already did.”

“He did what?”

“He bought me a new Alfa.”

“Then drive that to the airport,” he snapped.

I could hardly confess that I couldn’t drive stick, not with my history with the Alfa. “I hate you,” I said.

“So you’ve told me. I’m not too fond of you either. It’s a shame we’re so good in bed together. Be in the library by one or I’ll come to get you, and I don’t think you’d like that.”

“I don’t like bullies.”

“I don’t like liars,” he shot back, and left me.

I showedup in the library at the dot of one, only to find the entire family and staff had gathered. Mr. Fergell sat at Granda’s huge desk, papers in front of him as he fiddled with his glasses. There was only one seat left, directly in the front, next to Ian, and for a moment, I considered whether I could just lurk in the back of the room. I would have tried it, except all eyes turned to me, and Mr. Fergell looked up.

“Come in, young lady. There’s a seat for you up front.”

What Would Bella Do? I tossed my hair over my shoulder and sauntered into the room, taking my seat next to Ian. Come hell or high water, I was leaving this afternoon. Somehow, I would wrangle that overpowered death trap into sedate behavior and abandon it at the airport. It was up to Bella to deal with it.

Plastering a suitably demure expression on my face, I sat there, acutely aware of Ian so close beside me that I could feel his body heat, as Mr. Fergell droned on in Spanish and English, through all the formalities. My Spanish was good, but not up to antiquated legalese, and I was so busy ignoring Ian and everyone else that I paid little attention to what was read. The amount Bella inherited had nothing to do with me, though I suppose I should plan to act gratified or outraged, depending on the bequest, but at the moment, I really didn’t care. Granda was fair, and besides, it was his money. He could do with it what he wanted. As long as he left Ian enough money to run Mariposa, then he could lavish the rest of the money on whomever he chose—maybe a home for aging dogs. No, scratch that—Granda had hated dogs.

More droning by Mr. Fergell, and I allowed myself a brief glance down. I could see Ian’s hand on the arm of the chair, and a sudden heat filled me. He had beautiful hands—long, deft fingers that...

The sound of my own name brought me out of my distraction and I jerked my head up in surprise. My name, not Bella’s. Katherine Mirabel Whitehead.

The sudden silence in the room was deafening, and I wondered what in God’s name had been said. It didn’t take long to find out.

The room erupted into screeches, shouts of protest, with Marcus charging up to the lawyer and practically yanking him out of his seat. Fergell stood up, trying not to cower in the face of Marcus’s raging bulk, and Mary Alice was next to him, an unintelligible string of protests shooting from her mouth. Beside me, Ian hadn’t moved.

Pandemonium reigned for the next few moments, and then Ian rose. “Enough,” he thundered, and everyone froze.

“But Ian...” Marcus began with just the trace of a whine.

“I won’t stand for this!” Mary Alice said, her voice strident. “He’s not cutting us out of our inheritance—we’re more family than you are, Ian, and I’m not about to sit back and?—”

“Be quiet!” he snapped, doing the impossible and silencing Mary Alice. “Everyone just calm down.”

“You, of course, have the right to contest the will,” Mr. Fergell said calmly. “But Doctor Madhur was one of the witnesses, and he assured me your grandfather was of sound mind when he made this extraordinary decision.”

What extraordinary decision? I’d been so busy mooning over Ian’s hands that I hadn’t been paying attention. And what did it have to do with me?

“Bella, don’t just sit there!” Marcus said. “Say something!”

“She’s in shock, and no wonder,” Mary Alice said shortly.

“Yes, Bella.” Was it my imagination or did Ian’s voice caress the name with cynical emphasis? “What do you think of the terms of Granda’s will? If affects you more than anyone.”

“That’s bullshit!” Marcus thundered. “We’re all left high and dry by the whim of a senile old man.”

“He wasn’t senile,” Ian corrected him, but I could feel his eyes on me. “And Bella needs money more than the rest of you—she goes through it like water. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” I echoed, stalling for time.

“About the fact that Granda left every single penny to our long-lost cousin Kitty.”

A proper heroine would have fainted. But I was afraid that I was the villain of the piece, and I didn’t have that option. “That’s ridiculous!” I said faintly. “He hasn’t seen Kitty since she was sixteen.”

“Is there any kind of explanation, Mr. Fergell?” Mary Alice demanded. “Some rationalization for such a crazy decision?”

“As I said before, your grandfather was of sound mind. It was not my place to ask him why he made the decision he did. However, he did leave a letter for one of you.”

I immediately looked at Ian. Surely, he must have given him some explanation. He met my gaze, and I recoiled at the cold disgust in his eyes.

“It’s for Bella Whitehead,” Fergell broke in, reaching out with a sealed envelope. I made no move to take it, and with a muttered curse, Marcus snatched it and shoved it at me.

“What does it say, Bella?” Mary Alice demanded. “Surely he’ll give you a good reason for disinheriting his little darling.” Her voice was like acid.

“Yes, what does he say?” Marcus added impatiently.

I folded the letter in half and shoved it in my pocket. “I’ll read it later.”

“Aren’t you curious?” Valerie asked, the first time she’d spoken since all hell had broken loose.

“Not particularly,” I said lightly. “If he tells me anything I think you all need to know, I’ll be sure to pass it on.”

“Bitch,” Mary Alice said under her breath.

I gave her Bella’s most charming smile, the one that left men besotted and had women sharpening their nails, but I didn’t say a word.

“He must have been very angry with all of us, to leave everything to Podge,” Valerie mused.

“Everything? Including Mariposa?” I couldn’t quite fathom it.

“The house, the lands, the olive groves, the vineyards,” Ian said in an icy voice. “Everything.”

Guilt swamped me, but I had no reason for it. “Don’t blame me. I lose out like the rest of you.” I looked at Ian. “He really left you nothing?”

“Mr. Whitehead will be adequately compensated for his years of work on the estate,” Mr. Fergell intoned.

“Like a goddamned servant,” Marcus fumed. “I don’t mind so much for me, but for Ian to lose everything...”

Ian made a dismissive gesture. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve got work to do. The rest of you can fume and fuss all you want—I’ve got plans to make.”

I wanted to go with him. Of course, Bella would be the last person he’d want near him. No, he’d be even less welcoming to Kitty, who’d somehow managed to take everything away from him that he’d worked so hard for.

And what in God’s name was I going to do? Tell them who I was? Slink away and refuse the bequest? That made a certain kind of sense, more sense than Granda leaving everything to the child he’d banished. I touched the letter in my pocket. Maybe that would explain things, but I wasn’t about to open it. I would leave it behind for Bella whenever she planned to return. Though if there was nothing in it for her, then she might not bother.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how thoroughly disillusioned I was about my glamorous cousin. I’d let her use me, as she used everyone, and now I was in so deep I didn’t know how to crawl out.

“I’m going out,” I announced as Ian strode from the room without looking back. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“It won’t do you any good to chase after Ian—he’s in as dire circumstances as the rest of us,” Mary Alice said.

“When have I ever chased after Ian?” I said in an icy voice.

There was a sudden, damning silence in the library, and it took all my self-control not to blush. Had I been that obvious? Obvious that even Ian noticed? Of course he’d noticed—I’d spent the night in his bed without a single objection.

And I did want to chase after him. To make him admit that last night was more than simple lust, that it meant something. It would be a waste of time. The man had just been effectively disinherited—he wasn’t going to be worried about a night of hot sex.

It was warm and sunny in the courtyard, and there was no sign of Ian. I looked out over the fields and saw they were full of workers. I would be perfectly safe. Wouldn’t I?

The man in the taberna had terrified me. The huge dark man at Mariposa had sealed my paranoia, and the last thing I wanted to do was be caught alone with him. He could break my neck with a twist of his massive hands, and no one would ever know.

There was only place I felt safe, and this time I was wearing better shoes. Dangerous or not, I was heading back to Pinnacle Point to think about this bizarre turn. Shoving my mane of curls behind my ears, I took off.

It took me longer than I expected to reach the cleft in the rock that delineated the secret path. I’d seen Ian’s tall, lean form in the distance, so I knew he wouldn’t disturb me, and I thought I recognized the bulk of the man who’d been watching me, far enough away that he’d be no danger to me. There was absolutely no one to disturb me as I followed the winding path through the scattered stones to reach the clearing at the top. No one to ask me pointed questions. I was safe...

“What took you so damn long?” a strident voice demanded when I reached the top of the outcropping. “I’ve been waiting here forever.”

Bella.