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William

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I smile as I watch her walk through the hall, unaware of what awaits her.

I've waited more than a year for Taylor Jarvis to return to the United States. I could have forced her back sooner, seduced her and made her do whatever I wanted, because just like me, she was never immune to the explosive chemistry between us. But I preferred giving her this false sense of freedom, like a butterfly with no clue that its life is about to end.

The time for retribution has arrived, and I’m going to take everything from her. She will give me what I want, and in the end, I’ll leave her to live as she pleases—a hollow, petty existence, just as she is.

Until I saw her today, I wasn’t sure I’d go through with my plan, but now it seems perfect. I don’t believe there’s any other way to silence my subconscious—that need to protect her that still creeps into my dreams, even after discovering everything she did to me.

I admit I was surprised to find her working at a charity, but what better place to find a lover—or with a little luck, a rich husband? After I learned she was alive and well, I pictured our reunion thousands of times. In it, Taylor showed up as the femme fatale of my fantasies, a soul- and scruple-less woman capable of getting involved with a man old enough to be her grandfather. Of sharing father and son.

I remember the night before she disappeared—crazed with jealousy, I took her right up against the door of her apartment. She must have already been planning to run off with my father by then. And to think I felt guilty, even apologized for acting like a jerk.

Yes, I was a fool—but for believing in her sweetness and innocence, for thinking that her inexperience when we first met meant she was pure of heart, when in fact the woman has ice in her veins instead of blood. When did she decide to swap the son for the father? Maybe she quickly concluded the old fool would be easier to manipulate.

“Good evening, Mr. Marshall.”

I glance to the side and see Jackie, the only friend, as far as I know, that the redhead has.

“Jackie Alston, how are you?”

“That depends on what you’re doing here.”

“I’m not sure I understand your question, miss.”

“Oh, you do. That’s why I’ll be direct: the entire association is overjoyed, not only by your generous donation but by your presence. Don’t use tonight’s dinner for some sort of vendetta.”

“ Vendetta? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her lips press into a thin line. “I can see how you’re looking at her.”

“Looking at whom?”

“Don’t try to fool me, sir. I doubt a man with red blood in his veins who once possessed Taylor would just forget about her. And the way you devour her with your eyes proves you’re as human as anyone else.”

“Could you get to the point, Miss Alston? I’m not known for liking my time wasted.”

“Fine. Taylor’s back in the country, trying to get her life on track. I know you resent her because of the circumstances. After all . . .”

“Careful. You’re on thin ice, Miss Alston. One phone call and I can revoke my donation.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t assume you know me, Jackie. Now finish what you were saying.”

“Taylor lost her memory.”

“What?”

“You heard me. She doesn’t remember anything except . . .”

“Except what?”

“The time she spent with your father.”

Acid burns down my throat. “How convenient.”

“She doesn’t remember, I swear to you. We visited her family’s graves, and Taylor didn’t even get emotional. In the past, just mentioning her father would reduce her to tears.”

“People change, grow hardened. In any case, Miss Jarvis’s condition is none of my concern.”

“She didn’t stay with him willingly. Your father kept her isolated from the world.”

This time I really do smile. “When we first met, I thought you were a sharper woman, Miss Alston. My father may be many things, but he isn’t a kidnapper. They were out there making stops in populated places, always surrounded by people. All she had to do was make a move, ask for help, and he’d have been arrested.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t give a damn about Taylor’s situation.”

“Taylor? You’re calling her ‘Taylor’ again?”

“Miss Jarvis.”

“I don’t believe you came here for nothing. It’s your first time attending one of our events. This can’t be a coincidence.”

“I never said it was. I have a goal.”

“A goal?”

Before I can tell her to mind her own business, the association’s chair announces the start of the charity auction.

It doesn’t matter what it costs—I’ll get my prize.

* * *

An hour later, I smile as I slide into the back seat of my car. I look at the card in my hand, and I almost manage not to call. I should probably wait until tomorrow, but the urge to hear that treacherous voice outweighs reason.

“Hello?”

“Taylor Jarvis, I hope you’re ready for me.”

“Who’s speaking?”

“The man who bought you.”

“Good evening, Mr. Marshall. You purchased the right to have dinner with me. What you just said was pretty offensive.”

“‘Mr. Marshall?’ No, Taylor—that’s my father. My name is William. I want to hear you say it.”

“William,” she replies, and instantly, to my total dismay, memories I’ve tried burying come surging back. “I’m sorry for whatever you think I did,” she goes on, “though I’m apologizing blindly. I lost my memory.”

“Your friend already gave me the news.”

“And you still want to have dinner with me?”

“I paid half a million dollars to your organization for the right to your company, Taylor. It’s a done deal; you can’t back out.”

“Even though I don’t remember who you are?”

That cuts me as deeply as a twisted knife. She didn’t just replace me; she’s opting to pretend she doesn’t even know me. Typical of someone who won’t own up to her actions.

“Trust me, Taylor, under the circumstances, you’re better off pretending you have no idea who I am.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Damn it, threats could ruin my plans.

“Who can say? Maybe a new beginning—or maybe a less ugly end.”