Bargain With The Devil Part 13

"That peck on the nose? Believe it or not, that was the only time I'd done so and it hardly qualified as a lover's caress!"

"So you've neatly arranged to cast blame on no one but Leana "

"And on Eric!"

"Still, it's Leana who's going to suffer," Stacy groaned.

"She isn't the only one suffering," Hunter shot back, sounding a bit miffed that Stacy didn't see the full perfection of his plan.

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind," he growled. "But if it makes you feel any better, the beating I told Eric to administer was only part of the prescription. I told him that when that was finished he should take her to bed!"

"And my brother is planning on taking all this grand advice?" Stacy asked scornfully, wondering how men could be so dumb.

"Just as if he'd gotten it from an older, wiser, and more experi-enced brother," Hunter a.s.sured her coolly. "He trusts me."

Stacy waited a full minute, staring thoughtfully out the window before asking the chief question on her mind.

"Why, Hunter?"

"Why does he trust me?"

"No. Why are you attempting in your own inimitable style to save my brother's marriage?" Stacy couldn't bring herself to meet the glance he tossed at her from the other side of the car. As crazy as she privately thought Hunter's approach was, she didn't doubt for a moment that it was a genuine attempt to help. And she wondered why. Once again it occurred to her that a grateful Eric represented a potent weapon that Hunter could use against Paul J. Ry-lan.

"I like your brother," Hunter said quietly. "Let's let it go at that."

Under the circ.u.mstances it was understandable that the next morning when Julia told Stacy her brother was on the phone, she took the call with a certain amount of dread. Would Eric be calling to tell her his marriage was in ruins?

"Hi, Stacy," he began on a cheerfutnote that astonished her. She hadn't heard him sound that carefree in weeks. "I'm calling to give you the word from on high."

"What do you mean?" she demanded, frowning into the phone and wondering what was going on.

"Just had a call from Dad. He's going to be arriving back in Tuc-son tomorrow. Spoke briefly to Mom, too. She wanted to know all about Hunter, naturally." Eric laughed. "So I gave her a complete rundown. She's a fan for life."

"Why should that be?" Stacy asked, astonished. "She hasn't even met him!" Or had her mother remembered that twenty-year-old who had come pleading?

"Ah, but you forget!" Eric advised her wisely. "Hunter's got eve-rything she's ever wanted in a husband for you. He's successful, he's socially accepted, and he's gotten you into a dress on more than one occasion. I told her about that green thing last night. She can't wait to see you looking all dressed up. It's something she was never able to accomplish, so she figures he must have some kind of special power."

"The only thing he did was tell me to find something suitable," Stacy announced haughtily. "I did the rest!"

"Because you didn't want to embarra.s.s him?"

"Eric!" She hadn't wanted to embarra.s.s herself!

"It's okay, Sister dear. We all do some strange things for the people we love. Speaking of which, tell your husband he was abso-lutely right."

"About what?"

"He'll know. You can add that for the first time in weeks I am a happily married man!" With a wholly male chuckle Eric hung up the phone.

That night Hunter eyed Stacy thoughtfully when she appeared from the kitchen carrying a vegetable ca.s.serole that was plunked down onto the table with undue force.

"Something wrong?" he inquired dryly, helping himself to the delicious-smelling vegetable and cheese mixture.

"My mother and father will be home tomorrow," she told him tightly.

"And this is the reason you've been stomping around the house ever since I got home from work?" he pressed blandly, reaching for a whole wheat roll.

"They'll be out here to meet you, Hunter, as soon as possible. I know they will," Stacy said, chewing on her lower lip as she took the chair opposite her husband.

"So?"

"They're coming home much earlier than planned, Hunter," she explained carefully. "Who knows what my father's going to do?" She stared at him worriedly, wondering how he could look so bland at the prospect of seeing Paul J. Rylan.

"Whatever happens, your father and I will, I'm sure, conduct our-selves like gentlemen. There's no need to look so concerned," Hunter commented.

Stacy drew in a deep breath, wishing the coming confrontation between the two men could be postponed. Now, why should she want that? she asked herself. The arrival of her father represented the appearance of her one potential ally. Paul J. was the one member of the family who might be smart enough and ruthless enough to find a way out of this situation....

Something in her husband's foggy eyes hardened as he watched the play of emotions across her face. "You will not, I trust, forget to which family you now belong," he drawled in warning, one black brow elevated quellingly.

"Regardless of what happens when I again meet your father, you are still my wife, Stacy."

"And will you remember the terms of our bargain?" Stacy flung back, annoyed at the feeling of guilt she was experiencing when she contemplated a solution to the dilemma in which she found herself. "This marriage was sole and complete payment."

"I always keep my bargains," he told her evenly. "And now that you're a Manning, you will want to uphold that family tradition, I'm sure!"

CHAPTER TEN.

The confrontation came with unnerving swiftness, at least as far as Stacy was concerned. The time and place were established the next morning when a rather subdued-sounding Leana called Stacy to invite Hunter and his new wife for a small welcome-back party for the Rylans.

"Just a few friends of theirs and family, of course, Stacy. Why don't you wear something nice like that green thing you wore the other night. Your mother will be thrilled to see you looking so so-phisticated!" Leana chuckled, the humor sounding genuine. "It will be the perfect opportunity to introduce your parents to their new son-in-law. Seven o'clock all right?"

- Might as well get it over, Stacy thought with her usual wish to get the worst out of the way. "We'll be there, Leana." A moment later she picked up the phone and dialed Hunter at his office to tell him the news.

He listened and agreed to the appointment with a quietness in his voice that told her nothing of what he was thinking. "Still worried, Stacy?" he asked coolly.

"I hate scenes," she told him grimly.

"I certainly don't intend to cause one, and I somehow don't think your father will, either. At least, not in front of others," he amended. "Planning to go in your jeans?"

Stacy frowned at the suspicion of humor in his words. "Would you mind if I did?" she asked scornfully.

"Yes," he retorted, sounding thoughtful. "I think I would this time. You'll feel better if you're dressed as well as the others will be."

"Does it matter how I feel?" she chided, thinking that all Hunter probably had on his mind was showing her father how much a Man-ning bride she now was.

"Yes, Stacy, it matters. Oh, and, Stacy," he added, as she would have hung up the phone. "Find something else besides that green thing. Something with a higher neckline."

The dress Stacy found, with the a.s.sistance of her friend who owned the boutique, was as high-necklined as Hunter could have wished. It was also long-sleeved. Made out of black silk, it was cut so severely as to seem austere. Only the startling splash of orchids scattered about from hem to neck relieved the overly stark impres-sion. The orchids were handpainted on the material and the dress cost a fortune.

That night when Stacy swept into the small c.o.c.ktail party on Hunter's arm, she was fiercely glad she'd spent the money. The right clothes in the right environment could relieve a certain amount of anxiety, she discovered. She didn't notice, although everyone else present did, that the cool sophistication of the black dress, together with her sleekly bound hair, made her a perfect mate for the man at her side. Stacy only knew that she found herself holding onto Hunter's arm with more than necessary strength as Miriam RyIan rushed forward.

"Stacy, darling, you look fabulous! It's so good to see you again!" Miriam, sleek and fashionable in her middle years, hugged her daughter with casual maternal attention. It was obvious her main interest was the man standing beside her daughter. "I just had to come home and see your husband!"

"And you, of course, are Hunter. The one responsible for saving my daughter from marrying that philosophy type who runs a book-store!" she chuckled, taking Hunter's hand and lifting her face for a gracious kiss on the cheek. To Stacy's surprise, Hunter granted the small caress and followed up with a smile for his mother-in-law. Miriam's beautifully made-up eyes twinkled delightedly, and she tilted her pert head with its deceptively casual short blond hair to one side.

"I'm Hunter," Stacy's husband murmured politely. "And I'm afraid the philosophy type really didn't put up much of a fight!"

Miriam laughed. "Do come and meet Paul..." she began, only to be interrupted by a cool, gruff voice behind her.

"h.e.l.lo, Manning," Paul J. Rylan said calmly, his piercing blue eyes going first from his daughter's frozen expression to Hunter's even more remote look. "How interesting that we should meet again after all these years."

"Darling, do you know Hunter?" Miriam exclaimed in astonish-ment. She turned to glance at her still trim and attractive husband. The light gleamed on the deep red-brown of his admittedly thinning hair and, although he had the blue eyes he had bequeathed his son, there was something in the arrogant slant of his cheek line and in the forceful chin that somehow put a disinterested observer in mind of his daughter.

"Hunter and I met briefly several years ago," Paul told his wife, not glancing at her. His whole attention was on Hunter.

"How ever did that come about?" Miriam asked in interested amus.e.m.e.nt.

"It was a matter of business," Hunter told her, his gray eyes fog-gier and more unreadable than Stacy had ever seen them. She shiv-ered but did not loosen her hold on his arm, "How fascinating." Miriam smiled, clearly not remembering the incident at all. Perhaps in time she would begin to wonder about that odd silver slash in Hunter's dark hair, Stacy thought, but not tonight.

It was just as Hunter had predicted, Stacy thought wonderingly a few minutes later as Leana pressed a cool gla.s.s of wine into her hand and made introductions to the other guests present. No scenes. At least not in front of the others. For the first time in her life Stacy had cause to thank the dictates of good manners that provided a breathing s.p.a.ce for her to react with some semblance of normality. Hunter stayed close by her side, the perfect, attentive husband, and the con-versation quickly flowed into a discussion of the Rylans' recent trip. Stacy let the others carry on the discussion, grateful for this curious interlude. She was sipping quietly at her wine when she happened to glance up and catch Leana smiling across the room at Eric, who responded at once. It had been a long time since her sister-in-law had looked at Eric like that, Stacy told herself and wondered how Hunter's ridiculous plan could ever have worked. But the evidence certainly indicated that it had been successful. She smiled wryly to herself. Hunter was having an equal amount of success charming her mother. Miriam made it clear she couldn't have been more pleased with him. After having given up on her daughter doing the right thing years ago, the marriage to Hunter must have been a vast relief to her.

It was twenty minutes later when Paul Rylan approached his daughter with a polite, cool smile and asked if she and Hunter would care to accompany him out on the patio. Stacy glanced involuntarily at her husband, who simply took her arm and started forward.

"Of course, we'll go outside with you for a while, Paul," Hunter said with such distant politeness that Stacy didn't know what to think. Both men seemed suddenly intent on finding an isolated place, she realized. It was as if, by some unspoken but mutual agreement, they had decided the time for a showdown had come. And she would be the one in the middle.

It was somehow fitting that the patio, the place where she had first encountered Hunter, should be the scene for this confrontation, Stacy thought grimly as she walked between the two men out the sliding gla.s.s doors and into the cool, shadowy area at the back of the house. It even smelled the same out here as it had that night, she thought in strange wonder. Had it really been such a short time ago?

Her father wasted no time. Once they were alone he turned to face Stacy and Hunter, his eyes going first to his daughter's pale, taut features.

"You know what this is all about, of course?" he inquired calmly, idly swirling the contents of the gla.s.s in his hand.

"Yes," Stacy replied equally calmly, not knowing where she was drawing the strength unless it was from Hunter, whose arm she still held.

"She's known from the beginning," Hunter said flatly. "She stood near where you're standing now and made a bargain with me, Ry-lan."

"Why would she do that?" Paul Rylan inquired casually. "The one thing about you that I have never questioned, Stacy, is your intelligence."

"She did it," Hunter said with chilling politeness, "to pay off the Rylan debt."

"I see. That business with your father." Paul sipped his drink. There was a long and tension-filled pause and then he remarked quietly, "It wasn't necessary, Stacy. I would have dealt with the matter." His blue eyes flickered in the shadowy light.

"You weren't here to handle it," Stacy told him evenly. "There were only Eric and Leana...."

"Ah," Paul said softly, thoughtfully, nodding his head. "I begin to understand. I won't ask how you intended to threaten my son, Man-ning, I'd rather not know. Can I a.s.sume Stacy demanded to pay the debt in place of her brother?"

The two men watched each other with cold, unnerving expres-sions. "Something like that," Hunter finally allowed almost gently.

"Do Eric and Leana know?" Paul asked.

"No."

"Thank you," Paul said surprisingly.

"Don't thank me, thank Stacy," Hunter retorted.

"Yes," the older man nodded. "My reckless, wayward, stubborn daughter. You're no fool, Stacy. I figured you probably knew what you were doing. The only reason we're home early is because your mother couldn't bear the suspense of wondering what kind of man you'd married. I knew you were capable of looking after yourself, of course."

"She may be capable of it, but she won't need to do so una.s.sisted any longer," Hunter interposed smoothly. "She's a Manning now, Rylan. My wife. I will look after her."

Stacy slanted a curious sideways glance at her husband, not un-derstanding the intensity of his words.

Paul Rylan ignored Hunter and spoke directly to his daughter. "You apparently went into this with your eyes open, girl. Don't get any false notions now. This matter of his having made a lifelong friend out of Eric and the way he is bent on meeting all your mother's hopes for a son-in-law, they are only ways of consolidating his revenge, Stacy. I did some checking on your husband yesterday. The boy of fourteen years ago has become a man with a vengeance. He's smart and he's extraordinarily thorough. Anyone he's done business with will tell you that. He knows how to sew up a deal "

"If you checked that thoroughly," Stacy interrupted with great as-surance, "then you must know my husband is a man of his word. I have his promise that I am pay men t in full for what you did to his father."

"You believe that? You don't think he has ulterior motives for gaining Eric's confidence and for winning over your mother?" Paul asked with faintly amused scorn.

"I worried about it at first, the same way I worried when he told me he wanted a child...." Her father's face tightened, and she knew he had just realized the full potential of the marriage for revenge. Stacy was now painfully aware of Hunter's eyes on her profile. She drew a deep breath and continued. "But I have his word that he would love his child, and that means he would never use her as a weapon. I also have my husband's word that he made friends with Eric because he happens to like him. It's as simple as that." She felt Hunter stiffen but did not turn to glance at him.

"You believe all this?" her father asked again. , "Yes," Stacy said simply. "I believe it."

Paul Rylan stared at her for a moment longer and then he inclined his head with an air of decision. He turned to face Hunter.

"My daughter has taken it upon herself to make up for what hap-pened fourteen years ago, Manning. Yes, I admit something was owed. Your father was a bull-headed, stubborn, uncompromising man. He was a lot like me. We could never have worked together, and he would have been the first to tell you that. Still, I have looked back onee or twice since that business deal and thought that perhaps things could have been handled differently.... But it's over now. There's no going back for any of us. I will let you have my daughter as payment, partly because there's nothing I can do to prevent it." Rylan's mouth quirked upward ruefully. "I never could do much with her! And partly because I think you will one day discover that she has as much courage and determination as either you or I. She seems to have combined it with a woman's faith in her man, and that, my boy, is a tough combination to beat. You may have made a Manning out of her, but she's also my daughter. You and I will be quite helpless when she fully realizes her own power. I'm very much afraid that the weapon you have used against me will ultimately prove a chain that will tie the Rylans and the Mannings together."

Paul leaned forward and dropped a small, paternal kiss on his daughter's forehead. Then he stepped back with a smalt, very private smile and turned to walk indoors.

Stacy stood very still, watching her father disappear into the house, her emotions vibrating to the tension of the moment. She realized vaguely that she was still gripping Hunter's arm, but she couldn't bring herself to meet the cloudy pools of his eyes. She knew he was watching her, though, and she sensed that something besides anger or scorn was making him tense. She could feel that tension in him as if it were physically radiating outward. He seemed almost wary. Wary? Hunter? That didn't make sense.

Hunter shifted slightly, and when he spoke, his words were not at all what Stacy had expected to hear.

"You may consider the debt paid." His tone was low, enigmatic, and it made Stacy turn to face him at last, her hand falling from his sleeve.

"What?" she whispered, frowning up at his harshly carved fea-tures. In the dim light of the patio he looked more like a dark devil than ever. The flash of silver in his hair gleamed as if it were moonlight on water.

"Your father was right, Stacy," he told her heavily, his expression remote and very, very distant. The gray eyes were bleak beyond description. "There is no going back to adjust the past. And it does no good to drag others down in an attempt to do so."

"Hunter, I don't understand," she murmured helplessly, fearing something new and dangerous.

He stared down into her upturned face for a long while, searching for she knew not what. "You told me once I couldn't have both hap-piness and revenge; that I must choose. I don't know yet if I'll find the happiness, but I'm certain I don't want the revenge. The kind of ruthlessness it takes to go after it breeds men like your father. Like my father. Hard, cold men who, even if they respect them, can't communicate with their own children. I have been learning lately that I want something else out of life. I don't want to end up like either of our fathers. It's as simple as that." He took a breath. "So I'm setting you free. Wiping out the debt."