Tears of the Renegade Read online

“I can’t do that now.” The look she gave him was worried. “I can’t leave you not knowing if…if…”

  “I know.” He covered her hand with his, briefly applying pressure before removing his touch. “I’m handling it, so don’t worry so much. In another week to ten days, I’ll have the money repaid into Cord’s account.”

  She bit her lip. She knew that he would have had to liquidate a lot of assets to raise that much money so quickly, and she felt guilty that he hadn’t allowed her to help. Perhaps she hadn’t known anything about it, but she had profited by the use of the money because it had made the company stronger.

  By sheer willpower, she kept her gaze from straying too often to Cord as the minutes crawled past, but still she somehow always knew where he was. He’d stopped dancing with Cheryl, and she was surprised by the number of people who engaged him in conversation, despite how wary most of them still were of him. Why was he here? She couldn’t imagine that Audrey Gregg had invited him, so he had to have come with someone else, probably Cheryl. Was he seeing Cheryl often?

  For a while he stood alone, off to one side, slowly sipping a glass of amber liquid, his dark face blank of any expression, his eyes hooded. He was always alone, she thought painfully. Even when someone was talking with him, he had a quality about him that set him apart, as if he were surrounded by an invisible barrier. He’d probably had to become hard and aloof to survive, but now that very protection kept him from being close to another human being.

  It was too stressful to watch him. To divert herself, she began talking to Preston, and resolutely kept her gaze away from Cord. Good friend that Preston was, he talked easily of many things, keeping her occupied. She knew that he had to be under a strain himself, even more so than she was, but he was handling it well, and his concern was all for her.

  Suddenly Preston looked past her, his blue gaze sharpened and alert. “It’s in the fan now,” he muttered. “Grant Keller is about to tie into Cord.”

  Susan whirled, and gasped at the hostility of the scene. Grant Keller was a picture of aggressive, bitter hatred, standing directly in front of Cord, his fists knotted and his jaw thrust out as he spat some indistinguishable words at the younger man. His handsome, aristocratic face was twisted with hate and fury. Cord, on the other hand, looked cool and bored, but there was an iciness in his eyes that warned Susan that he was on the verge of losing his temper. His stance was relaxed, and that too was a signal. He was perfectly balanced, ready to move in any direction.

  Her breath caught in her chest. He’d never before seemed so aloof, so unutterably alone, with only his natural pride and arrogance to stand with him. Her heart was stabbed with pain, and she felt as if she were choking. He was a warrior who would die rather than run, standing by his own code, loyal to his own ideals. Oh, God, couldn’t they see that only pain could force a man into such isolation? He’d been hurt enough! Then, out of the corner of her eye, Susan saw Mary Keller watching her husband, with distress and a wounded look evident on her quiet face.

  Suddenly Susan was angry, with a fierce swell of emotion that drove away her depression, her tiredness. That old scandal had already caused enough trouble and pain, and now another woman was about to be hurt by it. Mary Keller had to sit there and watch her husband try to start a fight over another woman, something that couldn’t be pleasant. And Cord…what about Cord? His youthful love affair had caused him to be driven away from his family, and the hard life that he’d lived since then had only isolated him more. Grant Keller was the wronged husband, true, but he wasn’t the only one who had suffered. It was time for it to end, and she was going to see that it did!

  People who had never seen Susan Blackstone angry were startled by the look on her face as she headed across the room, and a path was cleared for her. Her eyes were a stormy indigo, her cheeks hot with color, as she marched up to the two men and put her slender body gracefully between them. She was dwarfed by their size, but no one had any doubt that the situation had been swiftly defused. She was practically sparking with heat.

  “Grant,” she said with a sweetness that couldn’t begin to disguise the fire in her eyes, “I’d like to talk to you, please. Alone. Now.”

  Surprised, he looked down at her. “What?” His tone indicated that he hadn’t quite registered her presence.

  Cord’s hard hands clamped about her waist, and he started to move her to one side. She looked up, smiling at him over her shoulder. “Don’t…you…dare,” she said, still sweetly. She looked back at Grant. “Grant. Outside.” To make certain that he obeyed her, she took his arm and forcefully led him out of the room, hearing the buzz of gossip begin behind her like angry bees swarming.

  “Are you crazy?” she demanded in a fierce whisper when they were out of earshot, dropping the older man’s arm and whirling on him in a fury. “Haven’t enough people already been hurt by that old scandal? It’s over! It can’t be undone, and everyone has paid for it. Let it die!”

  “I can’t,” he returned just as fiercely. “It’s burned into my head! I walked into my own home and found my wife in bed with him. Do you think he was ashamed? He just glared at me, as if she were his wife, as if I had no right to be there!”

  Yes, that sounded like Cord, able to stare down the devil himself. But she brushed all of that aside. “Maybe you have bad memories, but you’re just going to have to handle them. Are you still in love with your first wife? Is that it? Do you want her back? You have Mary now, remember! Have you given her a thought? Have you thought of how she must feel right now, watching you start a fight over another woman? Why don’t you just walk up and slap her in the face? I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt her any worse than she’s hurting right now.”

  He blanched, staring down at her. Perspiration broke out on his face, and he wiped his brow with a nervous hand. “My God, I hadn’t thought,” he stammered.

  Susan poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “It’s a dead issue,” she said flatly. “I don’t want to hear about it again. If anyone…anyone…wants to fight Cord over something that happened fourteen years ago, they’re going to have to go over me first. Now, go back in there to your wife and try to make it up to her for what you’ve done!”

  “Susan—” He broke off, staring at her pale, furious face as if he’d never seen her before. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” she said, relenting. “Go on now.” She gave him a gentle push, and he sucked in a deep breath, obviously preparing himself to face a wife who had every right to be hurt, humiliated and angry. Susan stood where she was for a moment after he’d gone, drawing in her own deep breaths until she felt calm seep back into her body, replacing the furious rush of adrenaline that had sent her storming across the room to step between two angry men.

  “That’s a bad habit you’ve got.” The deep drawl came from behind her, and she whirled, her breath catching, as Cord sauntered out of the shadows. Abruptly she shivered, no longer protected by her anger, as the cooling night air finally penetrated her consciousness. Quickly she cast a glance at the crowd of people visible through the patio doors, some of them dancing again, going about their own concerns. She had stepped in too soon for anything exciting to happen, so there wouldn’t even be much gossip.

  “They all know we’re out here, but no one is going to intrude,” he said cynically. “Not even Preston, the Boy Wonder.” He touched the soft curve of her cheek with one finger, trailing it down to the graceful length of her throat. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s dangerous to get between two fighting animals?”

  She shivered again, and when she tried to speak she found that her voice wouldn’t work right; it was husky, strained. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Again his finger moved, sliding with excruciating slowness over her collarbone, then stroking lightly over the sensitive hollow of her shoulder. Susan found that the touch of his finger, the hypnotic motion of it, somehow interfered with her breathing; the rhythm of her lungs was thrown off, and she was almost hyperventil