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“It pays the bills,” he said as he tapped her other arm. “The real work is with kids who have been through something traumatic. A shooting. A violent crime. Parents fighting for years, then finally killing each other. They come here all shut down. It’s sad. We put them on the horses, take them outside. Show them how to climb a tree. It helps. That’s what he does. He helps fix them.”
She didn’t want to think about Nick being anything but the devil. “Which is great, but doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“And it’s all about you, right?” Aaron asked, sounding amused. “Honey, you’ve got some attitude on you.”
“I know. It used to look good.”
“It still could. Now face me.” He rubbed the cool aloe on her chest. “You’re going to be peeling like a snake in a few days. Okay. I’ve done all I can. You’re going to have to sit like this until you dry off. Let me get the aspirin.”
He disappeared for a minute or so. Izzy sat there in her bra and jeans wondering if anyone was walking by the open door and enjoying the show. Did she care?
Aaron returned. “Aspirin and water. Because that’s just the kind of guy I am.”
She took both. “Why are you here? Why Nick? Why this place?”
“I’m a Texas kind of guy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I could be. I try.” He hesitated. “I like it here. This is where I belong.”
She knew there was more to the story, but didn’t know what and she wasn’t interested enough to push.
“Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome. Now get some sleep.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “I just love your hair. See you in the morning.”
Then he was gone.
She heard the door close, and the sense of being totally alone made her skin crawl.
She ignored it, the need to panic and every other emotion washing through her. After patting her arms to make sure the aloe had dried, she found the nightie he’d left on the dresser, slipped out of her jeans and bra, then pulled it over her head. She made her way back to bed and crawled between the sheets. She didn’t bother turning off the lights. It was better if they were on all the time. Anything was better than the dark.
NICK SAT IN HIS downstairs office, staring at his computer, but he didn’t see the words on the screen. Instead his attention kept shifting to the woman upstairs.
Izzy was in a bad place. All fear and attitude. Both could be channeled, used to get through. Or they could defeat her. Right now he couldn’t tell which way she was going to fall.
She wasn’t his usual type of client—he didn’t take on long-term care or individual cases. The corporate types came and went with forgettable ease. The kids…they came in groups of two or three, a weekend at a time. He’d once thought they should expand to week-long camps, but until they had the staff in place, that wasn’t possible. Besides, it was always easier if he didn’t get involved. If Izzy stayed, that was a risk. One he would have to control. He couldn’t be emotionally responsible for her…or anyone.
There was also the added challenge that she wasn’t a kid. She was a beautiful woman. He would have to be as blind as her not to notice that and coughing up his last breath not to be aware of the possibilities. Not that they mattered. She was off-limits.
So what happened now? Had he pushed her too hard? Would she rise to the challenge or snap in two? Sometimes the line between pushing and being a real bastard was hard to see. He tended to err on the side of being a bastard.
His phone rang.
“Hollister,” he said.
“How’s it going?”
“About the same,” he said, pleased to hear his friend’s voice. “With you?”
“Making a killing,” Garth Duncan joked. “It was a good day.”
Nick looked at his computer screen. “The market was down.”
“Not for me. Not for you, either. At least not your shares in my company. I can’t speak to what other crap you might have in your portfolio.”
Nick laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly ten. “Still at the office?”
“Sure. I’ll head home in a few. Tomorrow I’ve got a charity dinner, so I’m getting things done tonight.”
Garth had been born to be a tycoon. They’d met on their first day in college, when fate had thrown them together as roommates. Garth had been a charming, good-looking eighteen-year-old who made friends easily and walked with the confidence of someone who knew he was destined for greatness. Nick had been a skinny, frightened fifteen-year-old scholarship student, in theory the smartest kid on campus, but clueless when it came to real life.
Garth had taken one look at him and left the room without saying a word. Nick hadn’t cared. He’d been grateful to be out of the horrors of foster care and in the relatively safe world of college. That relief had ended two weeks later when a few fraternity pledges decided that beating the shit out of him would secure their place in Greek Row history.
Garth had stopped them before they could do much more than bruise him. He’d dragged Nick back to their room and told him to stay out of trouble, then he’d left. By way of a thank-you, Nick had completed Garth’s calculus homework and left him a study cheat sheet.
Eventually, they became friends, drawn together by proximity and similar backgrounds. Nick had grown up without parents, Garth had grown up without a father. In the four years it took Garth to get his bachelor’s degree, Nick completed a bachelor’s in petroleum engineering, a master’s and most of his Ph. D. Garth taught him how to make friends and get girls. Nick got Garth through his classes with a respectable B-plus average.
That was a long time ago, Nick thought grimly. Back when everything had seemed possible.
“Your friend got here,” Nick said.
“Who?”
“Isadora Titan. Izzy. The one you told me about.”
Nick had taken on Izzy at Garth’s request. One of Garth’s former assistants had gone to work for Skye Titan and Garth had pushed her to suggest that they consult Nick. Garth had kept his name out of it, though. To hear him tell it, the Titans were his business competitors and he needed them in good shape so that they could continue to challenge him at work.
Nick knew better, though. Garth was one of the good guys—always had been. And he hated taking credit for anything nice, if only to preserve his reputation.
“So how’s she doing?” Garth asked.
“She’s having a tough adjustment.”
“I would imagine getting used to being blind takes time. You’ll work your magic. That’s what you do.”
“It’s not magic. It’s reality. She needs to get her head in the game. Otherwise she won’t have the surgery that could restore her sight.”
“Better you than me,” Garth told him. “I don’t have the patience.”
“Most days I don’t, either.”
“Still, you’re doing it. Thanks for that. I know you didn’t want to do this, but it’s important. Just don’t let them know she’s there because of me.”
“Your reputation as a ruthless bastard in business and life will stay as solid as ever,” Nick joked.
“A reputation based on reality,” Garth reminded him. “You see the new Car and Driver? What is it with those guys and BMW? As far as they’re concerned, the Germans can’t build a bad car.”
“Not everyone has a thing for old British cars that never run.”
“Not old,” Garth corrected. “Classic. There’s a difference.”
“Sure. It’s all a matter of how much money you want to sink into it. You can afford to have someone drive behind you with a tow truck. Most people can’t.”
“If you’d come to work for me instead of starting your own company, you could have your own tow truck driver, too,” Garth pointed out.
“No, thanks. I like my truck.”
“Typical Texan.”
“And proud of it. Go home. It’s late.”
“Yeah, I will. See you next time you’re in town?” Garth asked.
“Sure. I’ll call.”
Nick hung up and returned his attention to the computer.
So much had changed since that first meeting with Garth, he thought grimly. Too much. They’d shared a lot over the years. A lifetime. The one thing he’d never asked his friend was how well he slept at night. Had Garth conquered the past or did he, too, wake to the sound of the screams?
GARTH DUNCAN REPLACED the receiver and turned his chair so he could see the Dallas skyline. Lights beckoned from dozens of other offices, all several stories below his own. No one else had as high an office or perfect a view. He’d made sure of that.
It had taken a long time…nearly twenty years…but he was finally ready to destroy the Titans. Everything was in place. The lines were set. It was just a matter of reeling ’em in. Even Izzy had cooperated and become a player. That damned explosion.
Who would have thought fate would be on his side?
He knew the Titan sisters believed he was behind what had happened at the oil rig. But he wasn’t. His destruction of the Titan empire was subtle, untraceable. He wasn’t interested in bodies, he counted his victories in dollars and bragging rights. He wanted Jed Titan broken and shunned by the society he valued. If the Titan sisters lost everything along the way, better for him.
Who had arranged the explosion? The investigation wasn’t complete, but Garth was confident the authorities would find that the blast wasn’t an accident. Coincidences like that didn’t just happen. Someone had done it on purpose. To put the blame on him? Or was there another Titan enemy looking to hurt Jed’s family?
Either way, he would find out. And in the end, he would take everything from Jed Titan and not have a single regret.
Well, maybe one.
He hadn’t wanted to use Nick. But when Izzy had turned up blind, the opportunity had been too tempting to ignore. When Nick figured out he was being played, he wouldn’t be happy. Garth was counting on their years of friendship to see them through.
Besides, it was worth the risk. He had to win. Win at any price. Even the trust of the man who had once saved his life.
CHAPTER FOUR
IZZY SPENT a restless night. Her skin felt hot and two sizes too small. Her head ached and she was hungry. She got up while it was still dark and pulled the chair from the small desk toward the window. Eventually she saw light, then she could make out greenery and the barn in the distance. For someone who could actually see things, it was probably a great view.
She showered and got dressed, still not sure what she was going to do. While her sisters had probably thought there were no other options, Izzy refused to let them do this to her. It was her life—if she wanted to spend it doing nothing, that was up to her. They didn’t understand what she was going through. They didn’t know about the fear and hopelessness that haunted her. They had perfect lives, with great guys and a future that didn’t include being blind.
She wanted to go home, and as she didn’t know the way, she was going to have to outwait Nick Hollister.
Some time later, she heard footsteps in the hallway and braced herself. But a few seconds before the man entered, she realized it was Aaron and relaxed.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he called from the doorway. “Are you ready to start your day? Dear God, it’s a good thing you can’t see yourself in the mirror. You’re a lobster, girlfriend, and it’s not pretty.” He made a clucking sound. “You’ll heal, but don’t do that again. Do you need me to spell wrinkles? I don’t think so. Come on. I’m taking you to the barn.”
“No, thanks.”
“Now, Izzy. Don’t be difficult. It’s not unreasonable to do a little work. We all pitch in. It’s not like you can help me on the computer.”
Had it been Nick, she would have told him exactly what she was thinking. But Aaron had been nothing but nice to her.
“My sisters paid Nick to kidnap me. I don’t have to do work to make things even.”
“Fine, but what about your karma? It seems to me you need some good vibrations in your future. Come on. It’s nice out. You can meet Rita and she’ll make you laugh.”
His tone cajoled, which made her feel better enough to get to her feet.
“Look at you,” he crowed. “Walking and everything. Who’s a little trouper?”
She moved toward him. “Don’t make me kill you.”
Aaron laughed. “Now you sound like Nick.”
“I’ll have to watch that.”
“He’s not so bad.”
“He didn’t toss you over his shoulder and drag you away.”
“I know.” Aaron sounded sad. “My luck just isn’t that good. But maybe one day.”
That made her laugh.
They went outside. It was still early enough that the heat wasn’t oppressive.
The barn loomed large. Izzy didn’t want to go inside. All she could see was darkness. It was her nightmare come to life. Then something moved through the darkness and stepped into the morning sun. The something became a person.
“Izzy, this is Rita. Rita, Izzy. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rita said, sounding pleasant enough. “I’ve heard you’re good with horses.”
“I know which end kicks.”
“Then you’re hired. We have a dozen horses here. For now you can start with giving them a bath and making them pretty.”
“I can’t wash a horse. I can’t see.”
“So what? They’re not expecting a spa treatment,” Rita told her. “Just a nice bath. You’ll do it by feel. Just make sure you rinse ’em good. Otherwise they’ll have skin trouble. Supplies are in this cabinet out here. Your hose is coiled on the left. Faucet where it should be. Bucket and soap below. Hoof pick and file on the top shelf. They’re all good horses. They’ll be patient. So let’s go get your first customer.”
Izzy was too shocked to speak. She was expected to wash horses? She couldn’t see what she was doing and Rita’s perky suggestion that she do it by feel was total crap.
“Are you coming or what?” Rita asked.
