“I couldn’t stand it. It hurt too much,” the admission came out in a low, tortured voice.
“What hurt exactly? Writing your daughter off like bad business?”
“I didn’t write her off. There was nothing to go on,” he practically shouted, surging to his feet behind the desk.
“Who said I was talking about her?” Ellie asked, then turned and left his office.
He called her name, but she ignored the plea in his voice, just as he had ignored her pleas for affection for twenty-four years.
When she got home, there was a message on her answering machine. It was Hawk.
She called him back, irritated all over again by men whose priorities didn’t match hers.
“I told your answering service it was an emergency,” she said after he picked up and without even identifying herself.
“Miss Wentworth?”
“Yes.”
“It has only been five hours since you called.”
“An emergency implies immediate reaction is necessary, Mr. Hawk. I’m surprised your clients are tolerant of your definition.”
“You are not one of my clients.”
“Nevertheless…”
He sighed. “I will admit that I would prefer not to have this conversation, but to clarify, the demise of a relationship due to information I provide is not a five-alarm fire in my book.”
“It should be when you got your facts wrong.”
“Please, Miss Wentworth. I’ve heard it all before. Tearful begging and bribery are going to meet with the same non-results. Nothing is going to convince me to call my client and tell him there was a mistake. There was no mistake.”
“You’re so sure of that?”
“Absolutely positive.”
She shook her head at his arrogance, but only said, “I have no interest in you calling the deceiving rat who employed you.”
“Then what do you want?” the man asked, sounding skeptical.
“I want to know where you, or your operative was, when these pictures were taken.”
“I cannot answer that question. My operatives are all very good at being discreet. Do not feel badly that you did not realize one was following you.”
“I don’t mean where the operative was in relation to the people in the pictures, I mean where he was geographically.”
“He was in Spain,” Hawk replied in a tone that said he was humoring her.
“Spain?”she choked out in disbelief.
The article had been in a Spanish tabloid, but the playboy with her sister was something of a Spanish celebrity, being a member of the family that ran one of the country’s largest privately held business conglomerates. The article did not give any information regarding location of where the picture was taken with the man’s mystery lady however.
“You know he was.”
“No, Mr. Hawk. I don’t know.” She felt sick. She’d been in the same country, even on the same coast from the look of things, with her sister. “What city was he in?”
“Is this game necessary?”
“Just answer my questions and then I’ll hang up and leave you in peace.”
“The pictures were taken in and near Barcelona.”
“If I’d stayed in the city, I might have seen her,” she breathed incredulously. Why had she taken the bus out of the city to the smaller town further down the coast? Because she’d been running from Sandor. Pain sliced through her and she cut those thoughts off midspate. “Did you follow this couple anywhere else?”
“No. My client told me to stop surveillance so I called my operative in from the field.”
At least she had a place to start. And a name. The playboy her sister had been seen with.
“Mr. Hawk, can you recommend an agency to help me find someone?”
“You’re asking me for a recommendation?”
She almost laughed at his incredulity. “Yes. Sandor used you, which means you’re the best there is. It follows you would know who I should call if I can’t use you.”
“Who do you want to find, Miss Wentworth, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The couple in the pictures you took. Specifically the woman.”
“No agency I recommend is going to fabricate evidence of a second woman to get you off the hook.”
“I’m not on the hook. In fact, because of you…I’m off of it permanently. Which gives me two things to thank you for, Mr. Hawk.”
“Just Hawk,” he growled. “What two things?”
“If you hadn’t screwed up, Sandor never would have told me about the business deal he and my father intended to use me as the contract guarantee for. I might have married him. That’s the first thing. And because you took those pictures, I now know I have a sister and even where to start looking for her. If you weren’t in New York and I hadn’t come to the conclusion that all men were a waste of good DNA, I might be tempted to kiss you.”