Texas Tiger

chapter 33





Georgina woke with a jump when Daniel climbed into the tub with her. She stared at the naked man sitting in her bathtub and wasn't certain if she was still sleeping. Daniel's strong legs sliding wetly along her own confirmed his reality.

He really had the most amazing face. Long lean bones and a mobile mouth and those electric eyes lent themselves to an astonishing number of characters. One minute he could be vague and scholarly, the next he could be the very picture of a furious cowboy out to protect his claim. At the moment he possessed a look of seductive tenderness that turned her insides to quivering jelly.

"Did you stave off mutiny?" she asked lightly, trying not to reveal the effect he was having on her.

"They were quite reassured to know the master of the house is in Chicago, that we are temporarily looking after the household, and that we don't intend to hold any more unexpected parades. It's just a matter of telling them what they want to hear."

"And you're an expert at that. Daniel, what will we do about the printing press? Will they tear it up?" Georgina strived for a tone of reasonableness as she watched him soap the light hairs across his broad chest. She hadn't noticed before, but the wet mat made a pattern that seemed to trail into an arrow that pointed directly downward. And she was trying her best not to look directly downward.

Amusement laced Daniel's voice as he watched her watching him. "They'll wish they hadn't if they try. There are laws, Georgina. Artemis may have the local lawyers tied in knots, but I know how to reach some of the best in the business. That press is private property. If the city takes it upon themselves to close that building, then they are legally responsible for what happens to it and anything in it. I'll retrieve our things tomorrow."

Georgina suspected Daniel was talking off the top of his head just to reassure her, but she let herself be reassured. If he wasn't worried about the press, neither was she.

"Have you ever made love in a bathtub, Miss Merry?"

The switch of topic was disconcerting. She stared at him and found that even her toes were quivering at the idea he had so casually suggested. She shook her head slowly, not daring to speak.

"Neither have I, but I've always wanted to try."

Before she could offer any kind of reasonable protest, Daniel caught her wet waist, lifted her over him, and slid beneath her so she was sitting on his lap.

As he gently soaped her breasts, Daniel kissed her lips and murmured against them, "I'm going to take good care of you, Miss Merry. Don't you worry about a thing."

And because she wanted to believe him, she did. What else could she do while her head spun with the things he was doing to her? She let him take her, she welcomed him, and she gave herself with all the heart and soul of which she was capable.

Because she loved the dratted man.

* * *

Daniel was dismantling his printing press in the heat of a late June afternoon when Egan entered. Wiping his hands on a dirty rag, Daniel cursed himself for leaving behind the boards he had pried from the first-floor windows. They would have made great weapons.

The piece of heavy iron in his hand would serve, but only at close range. Daniel hefted it casually as he nodded at the thug. Egan looked like a small-time hoodlum in his derby and checkered vest. No man in his right mind would sit down to a poker game with a man like that.

"Thought I'd find you here." Egan looked around, and finding no one else in the enclosed space, relaxed and stretched his large arms. "You and me got a few things we need to work out."

"Wouldn't, if I were you, dog-face. Haven't you heard? My daddy doesn't want me dead, just out of town."

Egan stared at him, and Daniel threw the iron part from hand to hand, admiring the effect of honesty. Why did men like that always think they knew everything and no one else knew anything? Positively fascinating the way the human mind worked.

"He don't mind if you get messed up a little before I take you to see him." Egan advanced a pace or two closer, forcing Daniel backward against the heavy machinery.

"Well then, he won't mind if I eliminate the middleman, will he?"

Before Egan could figure out what he was saying, Daniel kicked high and hard, striking the larger man right where it hurt the most. Egan really was a trifle slow. One would have thought he'd have remembered that maneuver.

The man screamed with pain but threw himself forward like a bull, aiming his head at Daniel's stomach. Tut-tutting, Daniel nimbly side-stepped and let the idiot ram his head into the printing press. He really wasn't much of an opponent at all.

As Egan slid to the floor, Daniel picked up his tools and the various parts of the press he had dismantled and started down the stairs. It rather sounded like his father was summoning him. That suited him just fine, because he had a thing or two to say to the old man himself.

Daniel worked up a full head of steam on his way downtown. The rejection he had felt as a child was as nothing to the fury he felt now as an adult at his father's callous refusal to acknowledge his eldest son. Perhaps there were very good reasons for not acknowledging him, but there were no good reasons for the strong-arm tactics Artemis was employing.

If the man wasn't so damned old and his father to boot, Daniel would have enjoyed cutting him down a peg or two physically. But it was with words he would have to win this battle.

Just before he reached the store, Daniel was brought to a halt by the sight of the crowd gathered around the kiosk he had rented for Georgie's pictures—a kiosk which should be empty now that she had no camera. Curiosity prevailing over anger, he pushed his way through the crowd. Whatever was there must have just appeared for so many people to suddenly be taking an interest.

With the calm eye of a professional, Daniel examined the display of black-and-white photographs. Some were overdeveloped by inexperienced hands. The composition of others left much to be desired. There was no doubt that the photographs had been taken by an amateur, and one without an eye as good as Georgie's.

Be that as it may, the photographs packed a significant wallop. The crowd of ladies in trailing silks and bustles and feathered hats gazed in dismay at pictures of nearly naked, grubby children sitting near gaping holes in sagging porches. Rooms where the ceilings threatened to cave in on neatly set dining tables vied with rats sitting on piles of garbage while children played nearby. A family dressed in their Sunday best beamed solemnly at the camera from in front of a house that seemed in imminent danger of collapse.

Someone with a cynical eye had caught these scenes, and Daniel wondered who could be any more cynical in this town than himself. He wandered around all sides of the kiosk, looking for some clue to the photographer and finding none. He knew it wasn't Georgina. While she might see the contrast between the people and the living conditions, she was prone to dressing things up in ribbons and bows. Whoever had done these pictures had gone for the jugular.

Remembering Peter was still in possession of Georgina's camera, Daniel shook his head and backed out of the crowd. Artemis would have his brother's scalp if he learned Peter had taken these pictures. He couldn't imagine the stiff and proper Peter doing anything so defiant, especially when it wasn't in his own best interests. ABC Rentals would be Peter's one day, and the houses in those pictures belonged to ABC.

Not believing what logic was telling him, Daniel hurried across the street to Mulloney's. He had an appointment to keep with his father, an appointment that had waited twenty-eight years. It was time.

He wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion. His white shirt was stained with oil from the press, and he hadn't bothered with collar and cravat or coat and vest in this heat. His hair was undoubtedly disheveled as usual, and his hands were grimy with the same oil that marked his shirt. At least he hadn't marred his knuckles on Egan's chin, Daniel reflected wryly as he ignored the stares in his direction and headed up the stairs to the office. He didn't think his father would appreciate his restraint.

The secretary opened her mouth to protest as Daniel stalked past her, but she wasn't in a position to tackle him as he threw open the door and marched into the inner sanctum. She sank back to her desk as he slammed the door behind him.

Peter wasn't available for this particular confrontation, Daniel noted. Only the old man behind the large desk near the window occupied the room. He couldn't see any resemblance at all between his own image in the mirror and this broad, handsome man, but Mulloney's name was on his birth certificate, and it was time for some explanations.

Daniel threw himself into a comfortable chair and propped his boots on the desktop. Arms crossed over his chest, he depicted insolent defiance even before he opened his mouth.

"Well, Dad, Egan says you want to see me."

The distinguished silver-haired man gaped blankly, then stared at the tall, lean stranger he had seen once before. The memory of the stranger's laughing insolence at the time still burned. No son of his would behave that way.

But even as Mulloney denied it to himself, Daniel's mouth lifted in a familiar grin and gray eyes sparkled with a light identical to those of his youngest son. Artemis gritted his teeth and gripped his desk.

"Had I ever wanted to see you, I would have paid for your fare here. I don't know what you thought you would accomplish by coming to Cutlerville, but I have given you all I ever intend to give you. You ought to be damned glad that I bothered to support you while you were growing up. I have no intention of doing so anymore."

Daniel continued smiling. "You don't need to. I'm doing a very good job on my own. Chip off the old block, I suspect. Making money is one of the easier of life's chores, don't you think?"

Artemis scowled. "You are getting nothing from me. Had you appealed to me with some respect, I might have considered finding you a position in my holdings, but you have done your damnedest to bring me down ever since you arrived. I want you out of this town and out of my sight, and I will do whatever is necessary to bring that about."

Daniel shrugged. "I came here only to see what kind of family gives away its children. Now that I know, I don't feel under any obligation to claim you. As a matter of fact, I'm seriously contemplating changing my name. My wife objects to being related to a nest of vipers."

Mulloney's face turned a mottled purple as he obviously restrained himself by clenching his fingers around his desktop. "I paid good money to see you brought up to show some respect to authority. I have a good mind to demand my money back."

"If you can get blood out of a turnip, I suppose you can get money out of a dead woman. But I suspect Nanny taught me a great deal more about respect than you ever learned in a lifetime. I have a great deal of respect for people who scratch and save and try to make a living while a bloodsucker like you steals them blind. Forgive me if I don't recognize you as the kind of figure of authority I'm supposed to respect."

The man behind the desk grew dangerously quiet as he pushed his chair away. The city street below went unnoticed as he crossed his arms in a gesture unconsciously similar to his son's.

"You'll learn to respect me before I get finished with you. Even as we speak, I have lawyers preparing the papers to take over Hanover Industries and that hideous monstrosity of a house that your wife calls home. You'll both be on the streets before evening. You thought you were clever in stealing Georgina Hanover away from me, but you'll soon learn what it's like to keep a woman like that in the streets. She'll make your life hell until I take pity on her suffering and offer to pay for a divorce so she can mend her childish errors. You'll never get your hands on Hanover Industries while I'm alive."

Daniel sighed and shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you? I suppose I should have known, but it's difficult to believe one's own father isn't human. I don't suppose you want to tell me why you found me so repulsive that you banished me from your kingdom?"

Dark eyes gleamed from behind the grim mask of the older man's features. "Because as far as I'm concerned, you're no son of mine. You might bear my name, but not an ounce of my blood. Are you beginning to get the picture?"

Daniel shrugged nonchalantly, but the stiffness of his posture indicated some of his inner turmoil. "Since I don't know my mother, I can't very well defend her. I'll take your word for it." He swung his boots to the floor and stood up, prepared to depart.

"You don't leave here until I tell you to leave!" Artemis shouted, rising from behind the desk.

Daniel kept walking.

"I'll make a deal with you!" When Daniel still didn't halt, he added, "It concerns your wife, so you damned well better listen."

Daniel sent a questioning look over his shoulder.

"I want you out of this town. I don't want you bothering my wife. She's ill and I won't have it." Artemis clenched his fists against the desk. When Daniel still made no reply, he continued, "I'm prepared to put the mortgage to Hanover's house in your wife's name so she effectively will own the property. All you have to do is get out of town and not come back."

"And Hanover Industries?" Daniel asked carefully.

"That's mine. I'll do with it what I wish. If your wife's bleeding heart can't bear to see the place shut down, then she can damned well divorce you and marry my son the way it was intended. Then the decision will be up to Peter."

"I'm certain that makes perfect sense somewhere in your cold heart. I fail to admire the logic of it, but I'll give it some consideration. But if intuition serves me, you might not find Peter as cooperative as you seem to think. I'll get back to you."

With an assurance bordering on the insolent, Daniel walked out.

After he was gone, a tall man wearing oddly western clothes for a city of this sort stepped out from behind a concealed door in the wall. He scratched thoughtfully at his two-day old beard.

"You heard that?" Mulloney demanded.

The stranger nodded. He hadn't bothered removing his badly stained Stetson earlier. He took it off now and examined a bullet hole through it.

"Then you understand why I want him out of town. You said you were looking for him yourself. Here's your opportunity."

The man adjusted the hat over his eyes and hooked his thumbs in his belt. "He ain't 'zactly what I expected. These writer fellers are usually shrimps that squeak when you look at 'em. This one ain't like that a'tall."

Mulloney gave him a look of disgust. "I thought you were a gunfighter. You can't be afraid of a callow youth."

The man shrugged and rocked back on his heels. "Ain't afraid of no man, not even you. What I'm sayin' is that I like the man's guts. He stood up for himself. I was plannin' on scarin' a mouse. Now I ain't so sure if I shouldn't get to know him better."

Mulloney scowled. "Get out of here, Martin. You're a broken-down has-been. I don't know why I bothered with you in the first place."

" 'Cause I was lookin' to kill the boy and you thought I'd save you the trouble." Pleased with himself, the cowboy spun around on his tall heels and let himself out.