Darkness Chosen: Into The Shadow Part 13

"Yes, that surprises you, doesnat it?" Jackson surveyed her wide-eyed shock with grim satisfaction. "None other than Phil Chronies, the man who lost his arm in my service. The man you left to die."

"Because he was too greedy to leave the golda"" Suddenly she realized what she was doing, and stopped short. She would not justify herself and her actions. Not to her father. Not when shead just returned from the dead to find not relief, not welcome, but accusations. "How can you believe the worst guy in your whole organization without even asking me what happened?"

"You are your motheras daughter, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with some black-haired foreigner instead of working like you should."

She heard the echo of a bitterness so old it had started long ago. "Yes. I am my motheras daughter. Iam loyal until the day when I realize that nothing I do can make you . . . approve of me." Love me, she meant, but he wouldnat understand the term.

Warlord had done one thing for her. He had shown her a sort of lovea"warped, possessive, but given freely. Warlord had bound her with a rope, but now, as she looked at her father, she realized how tightly shead been bound by his expectations.

Now she was released.

She took a step forward. "Youare a fool, Jackson Sonnet. I would have done anything for you. Anything. And you listened while Phil Chronies poured poison in your ear. You took his part against me." She laughed briefly, and with a sense of freedom shead never experienced before. "Thank you, Father, for making it possible for me to follow my dream."

He shook with baffled frustration. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"Iam out of here." She looked down at her bag. She was wearing her coat. The icon was in her pocket.

Except for her picture of her mother, and she would pick that up on the way out, there was nothing she needed here. Nothing in this house she wanted.

"Iam going to England. Iam visiting the Victoria and Albert Museum. Iam going to Spain to visit every winery in the Rioja. Iam going to eat oranges and olives and tomatoes and bread. Iam going to make friends who know how to play. Iam going to bike, and swim in the Mediterranean, and bask in the sun." She took a long breath, then released it . . . and all the tension of twenty-eight years spent bent and warped by Jackson Sonnetas unending pressure.

He blasted her with all his usual subtlety. "Thatas the stupidest plan Iave ever heard."

"Itas not a plan, Father. For the next year, Iam not planning a thing. Iam going to let the chips fall as they will."

"How the h.e.l.l do you think youare going to pull this off?"

"Thanks to you, Father, and your stupid schedules that a.s.sured Iad never have time off, Iave ama.s.sed a small fortune, and I can afford to take a year off." Reflectively, she added, "Or two."

"Are you insane? Youave worked every day of your life. What makes you think you can spend time doing nothing buta""

"But what I want? What Iave always wanted? Iam going to be civilized. Iam going to be a girl." She tried to think of what would impress him with how serious she was. "Iam going to get a pedicure."

"A pedicure?" He couldnat have looked more outrageda"or alarmed. "What the h.e.l.l do you want a pedicure for?"

"Iave only had one in my whole lifea"and I liked it. Now Iam going to have as many as I want."

"Youare fired!"

She thought about it. "No. I definitely think I quit first." She bowed to him in mocking appreciation. "Good-bye, Father. Or should I call you Mr. Sonnet? Enjoy your time with Phil, and try to make yourself believe heas telling you the truth."

The blood vessels that etched her fatheras ruddy cheeks popped up like scarlet rivers on a map. "I canat believe youare giving up like this."

"Iam not giving up. Iam finding myself." Picking up her bag, she walked out the door.

She didnat look back.

Chapter Fourteen.

Two years later

Aqua Horizon Spa and Inn

Sedona, Arizona

Karen Sonnet stood in the hotelas cool, tall, modern wood-and-stone foyer, talking to Chisholm Burstrom, president and CEO of Texas-based Burstrom Technologies, and his wife, Debbie, about tonightas events, when a new guest stepped through the doora"and Karenas breath caught.

The stranger crossed toward the check-in desk. His black hair was cut by a master stylist, and his sculpted face was clean shaven. His stride was long and confident, and his immaculate black European-cut suit fit his masculine form perfectly. His crisp white shirt and blue tie could have belonged to any wealthy businessman who visited Aqua Horizon Spa and Inn to relax and do business.

This guy looked nothing like Warlord, yet something about him made her heart rate accelerate.

His indifferent gaze swept through the lobby. He focused on her. His eyes sharpened.

They werenat black.

Karen stepped back, her hand on her chest to contain her thundering heart.

His eyes werenat black, but an odd light green.

Hand thrust out, he started toward her. . . .

Behind her, Chisholm Burstrom gave a shout.

Karen jumped.

"Sorry, honey. Didnat mean to scare you." Briefly Chisholm laid a hand on her shoulder, but his gaze was fixed on the stranger. With two long strides he met him. "Wilder, you old son of a gun, glad you could make it."

"Chisholm, thank you for inviting me." The stranger shook Chisholmas hand. "Iam looking forward to the chance to meet your executives and get the scuttleb.u.t.t on the new gaming technologies."

"None of that!" Mrs. Burstrom stepped between the two men and flirted little glances back and forth between the two of them. "This hotel is the number one destination spa in the world. I handpicked it specially, I made up the guest list, I chose the activities, and this isnat going to turn into a business conference. Chisholm, you promised! And Mr. Wilder, you donat want to get on my bad side. Iam a fearsome enemy!"

Mr. Wilder held his hands up, palms out. "I would never cross you, maaam. Iam not that brave!"

The three laughed, comfortable with one another and the situation; then Mrs. Burstrom turned to Karen. "Karen, this is Mr. Rick Wilder, one of our very special guests. Rick, this is Karen Sonnet. Sheas the force that has been planning our soiree for months."

"Sheas an invaluable little gal," Chisholm said.

This time the stranger looked at Karen, really looked at her.

Her heart rate accelerated again. She waited, breathless, to hear him ask, Did you watch for me?

Instead his eyes warmed with a very civilized appreciation.

She knew what he saw; she had carefully cultivated the laid-back, comfortable image the spa demanded from its staff.

Her blue gown was loose-fitting, sleeveless, knee-length and casual, and "casual" perfectly described her flat, strappy brown sandals and bare, tanned legs. Her brown hair was streaked with blond, some natural, some not, and stylish in a layered cut that swept her shoulders.

She looked like what she wasa"the events coordinator at a small, very exclusive hotel in a high-desert canyon outside of Sedona.

She put out her hand. "Mr. Wilder, itas good to meet you."

He took her hand and shook it with businesslike briefness.

That surprised hera"possibly because she was still half-convinced this man was Warlord. Probably because shead expected that wild, electric thrill of recognition at his touch.

"Itas good to meet you, Karen. I canat wait to enjoy whatever occasions you set up for us." He smiled, his teeth clean, white, and sharp.

Sharp . . .

Warlord kissed her. Turned away. Ran toward the front of the tent. Pushed the tent flap open. Leaped off the platform and into the melee, a pistol blazing in each hand.

She shuddered, then shook off the memory, the madness, and nodded her greeting.

"Excuse me. Iave got to check in and change into something more casual." He nodded at all of them, and smiled at her again.

As he strode away, Mrs. Burstrom said in satisfaction, "That was the smile of a man who likes what he sees."

"Karen, youare in trouble now. My darling girl has that matchmaking gleam in her eyes." Mr. Burstrom laughed, his jowls shivering.

"Hush up, Chisholm." Mrs. Burstrom linked her arm with Karenas and fluttered her fingers at him. "I work under the cover of discretion."

In a polite tone that hid her faint flicker of alarm, Karen said, "Mrs. Burstrom, I donat fraternize with the guests." Her pager vibrated, and she glanced down. Saved by the bell. "The caterers have a question, so if youall excuse me . . ."

"Is there a rule forbidding it?" Mrs. Burstrom walked with her.

So much for "saved by the bell."

Mrs. Burstrom said she trusted Karenas expertise, and Karen thought that probably she did, but she was the kind of hostess who verified every detail, from the welcome baskets in the guest rooms to the flower arrangements on the buffet. Shead worked with Chisholm Burstrom to make this company a success, and she expected this gathering to tie their loyal employees closer to them and bring their honored guests into the fold.

And Karen had worked with her to make sure that happened.

"Is there a rule forbidding fraternization with the guests? No, but wouldnat I be asking for heartache to fall for a guest whoas leaving in a week?" Karen gave the same droll answer she always gave to kindhearted inquiries and direct pa.s.ses.

"Youare never tempted?"

"No."

"Not even by a pair of green eyes shot with gold?" Mrs. Burstrom coaxed.

"He has very nice eyes." Eyes that looked positively normal. "But no."

"Itas not natural for a girl your age to live alone."

"Iam hardly a girl, Mrs. Burstrom. Iam thirty years old, and except for a yearlong break almost a year ago, Iave been in the hotel business full-time for eight years. You wouldnat be the first matchmaker Iave thwarted."

"A challenge!"

Karen stopped in the middle of the hallway. "No. Please. My break from the hotel business coincided with the end of a bad relationship. I figure those weeks with him contained enough s.e.x, rage, anguish, and arguments to make up for years of a normal relationship, and Iam not interested in trying again."

"Two years is time enough to heal."

"I havenat felt a niggle of interest since then."

"Yet you looked at Rick hard enough."

Mrs. Burstrom wasnat going to give up, so Karen told more than she usually did. "He reminded me of my ex. I always jump when I see a man like that. It wasnat a healthy relationship. "

"Did he beat you?" Mrs. Burstrom asked sharply.

Karen matched her frankness. "Almost as bad. He tied me up."

"All right. I wonat push the issue." They started toward the kitchen again. "I want you to know that Rick is an upright, honorable young man who has spent time overseasa""

That quiver of alarm went up Karenas spine again. "Really? Where?"

"India and j.a.pan, and then Italy and Spain."

Karen had to stop jumping to conclusions.

Mrs. Burstrom continued, "Heas smart as a whip, speaks a lot of languages, and he developed a computer game that weare marketing in the States and then internationally."

"Really?" Karen couldnat care less about computer games. "Whatas it called?"

"Warlord."

Chapter Fifteen.