"Fine!" she said through gritted teeth. "Take me to my apartment and let me get my checkbook. I'll pay you whatever Van owes you and this will be over and done with."
She was a wealthy heiress, so he had no doubt she was telling him the truth. It would be the simplest solution, but again, something kept him from accepting the proposition.
"No."
"Why not?" she asked, her tone sounding irate. Her face was turning red, and her hands were clenched at her sides.
"None of your beeswax," he mocked.
Ignoring his sarcasm, she said, "Okay, but if I give you the money, you can leave me alone and deal with him however you want. It doesn't need to involve me. It's a win-win for both of us. You can see that, right?" Her voice sounded hopeful.
It was a reasonable and easy solution, but he couldn't let himself agree to it. There was something about her buying her freedom that irked him. She had so much money she didn't even ask about Van's debt. She was spoiled and privileged and probably bought her way out of any situation that she found uncomfortable or couldn't control. Not this one, he told himself.
"No."
Taking a deep breath, she realized she was getting nowhere. Stubborn jerk, she thought to herself. How did I even let myself think for one minute that he could be reasonable?
He picked up her pager and handed it to her. "You said nobody would miss you, but you had two pages."
She looked at it and said, "My brother and Bobbi Bowen's dealership."
"You mentioned your brother at the house," Anthony said, nodding. "Does he live in Naples?"
"Don't get any more misguided fancy kidnapping ideas in your head," she snorted. "He was disowned years ago. And like I told you before, Van wouldn't pay to get me back, and he'd probably pay you to take and keep Richard."
Anthony didn't say anything, and she continued, "The Corvette is a loaner. My car is in the shop. I guess the call from Bobbi Bowen's was to let me know it's ready. They'll expect me to pick it up soon." She brushed a hand through her hair. "And my brother and his girlfriend have a new baby. I'm due for a visit. It would seem odd if I didn't."
He purposely didn't tell her about the crying woman who'd answered the phone. It must've been Richard’s girlfriend and the fact that she'd been sobbing told Anthony it was probably important.
He picked up the phone and handed it to her. "Call Bobbi Bowen's and tell them your friend Alexander will be dropping off the Corvette and picking up your car."
This guy obviously didn't negotiate. No matter how misguided she felt he was, she knew it was easier to attract flies with honey rather than vinegar. She would play along. Other than his dark and commanding demeanor, she wasn't feeling a specific threat. Unless she allowed herself to stare into his eyes for too long. There was something chilling about eyes that showed no emotion. She dialed the number and told Vicky to expect her friend later that day.
As far as her brother was concerned, Anthony was slightly curious. Two wealthy children. One disowned, and the other obviously despised her parents. He felt like he had front row tickets to a live soap opera. And a bad one at that. He wanted to meet Richard.
The sound of his truck interrupted his thoughts and seconds later Alexander came through the front door without knocking. Waiving the courtesy of a proper introduction, Anthony told Christy to get her shoes on. He gave X a brief explanation as to where he was going, saving details for a later time.
Christy met them in the foyer.
"X will be picking up your car. What kind is it?" he asked her.
"It's a white convertible—"
"Of course it is," Anthony said, cutting her off.
After exchanging car keys with X, he steered Christy out the front door toward his truck.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To meet your disinherited brother," he told her.
"To meet my brother?" she asked, incredulously. "How in the world am I going to explain who you are?"
"Tell him I'm your boyfriend," he said as he opened the truck door for her. He gave her a smirk, knowing that she would rather die from shame than let someone think they were a couple. Even her worthless brother.
"I don't date, let alone have a boyfriend," she answered, her tone sounding worried.
Good, his suggestion had hit a nerve. He couldn't fathom why he enjoyed taunting her so much.
"You and me?" she asked, shaking her head as she climbed into the truck. "He'll never believe it."
"Then it'll be your job to make him believe it," he said, slamming her door shut. He walked around to the driver's side and jumped in. She was still listing reasons why she wouldn't be able to convince Richard they were in a relationship, her voice rising with each point.
"Shut up, or I'll tell him we're married," Anthony snapped. He didn't want to admit it, but what he considered amusing less than ten seconds ago, was now digging under his skin. And he didn't like how it was making him feel.
Chapter Eight
Naples, Florida 1978
After a curt demand for her brother’s address, Anthony started the truck and tried to ignore guilty feelings concerning his sister. Nisha’s essence lingered from when X had driven her to the airport earlier. It permeated the truck cab prompting him to roll down his window.
"Is this your truck?" Christy asked, glancing around the cab.
"Yeah. Why? Not fancy enough for you?" he asked, without looking at her.
"It's just a question," she replied, surprised that he seemed to find her inquiry insulting.