Hollywood Wedding (Landon's Legacy 3)

“Zach. You can’t believe——”

Zach spun away from her and slammed his hand against the wall. It was the hand he’d punched Dex with, the knuckles already bruised and hurting, but the ache, at least, cut through the nightmare of what was happening.

“I don’t know what to believe,” he roared. “Don’t you see? I don’t know what to believe!”

Silence filled the room. Eve stared at the man she had thought she loved, and then she took a deep breath.

“I told you once,” she whispered, “I was never going to defend myself to you again.”

“Eve, dammit——”

“Goodbye, Zach.”

Darkness flashed in his eyes “Eve…”

All her self-possession shattered in that instant. She flew toward him, still clinging to the blanket with one hand, and slammed her fist against his chest, over and over, until, at last, she fell back, sobbing.

“Get out of here. And don’t ever come back!”

Zach looked at her. God, he thought, dear God, what have I done?

A terrible numbness swept over him.

He had done the right thing. The only thing.

He turned, made his way to the front door and walked out into the night.

* * *

It was amazing, how fast you could wrap things up if you really wanted to.

Zach phoned Ed Brubeck at home early Saturday morning, explained that he’d been called back to Boston on business.

“But my end of things is pretty much settled here,” he said briskly, “and Eve’s in charge of the creative stuff anyway, so if you’d just help me out, Ed, meet with her once a week or so to check out Triad’s financial situation and then fax me the pertinent information…”

Brubeck said it would be no problem.

“It’s just too bad you have to leave so suddenly,” he said, and Zach hoped he sounded sincere when he said yes, yes, it certainly was.

He checked out of his hotel and stopped at the office on the way to the airport. He wrote Eve an impersonal memo, detailing some last-minute items he thought might need attention and informing her of the arrangement he’d made with Brubeck.

He reread it and frowned. There had to be more to say to a woman he’d been in love with…

Almost. Almost in love with.

He tossed aside his pencil, left the note on her desk, unsigned, and headed for the airport.

There were three planes heading east in the next hour. Unfortunately, none was destined for Boston. Two were headed for New York, one for Newark.

This was no time to be picky, Zach thought grimly, and bought a first-class ticket to Kennedy Airport, in New York.

“You’ll have to hurry to make your flight, sir,” the ticket agent told him.

Zach nodded, picked up his carryon bag and sprinted for the gate. Any time but this, he’d have figured on taking advantage of the New York touchdown to phone Grant in Manhattan, suggest they meet for a drink or dinner before he hopped a connecting flight to Logan, but the last thing he wanted right now was to sit down and pretend to be in a good mood.

How could he do that, after what had happened?

Zach handed his bag to the smiling flight attendant, put his portable computer on the empty seat beside him and stared blindly out the window.

To think that he, of all people, had been taken in by a woman like Eve.

It was infuriating.

But fury wasn’t what he felt right now. What he felt was—was bruised. Hollow. He felt as if someone had reached inside him and torn out his heart.

Zach exhaled sharply. What he needed was to get back to the life he’d left behind him. A couple of crisp, New England autumn days and some time at his desk would blow the cobwebs out of his head, and then he’d be fine.

He’d be perfectly fine.

* * *

He jerked awake somewhere between Ohio and New York. The flight attendant was bending over him.

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Landon. But we’re coming into some rough weather. The captain’s asked all passengers to please put on their seat belts. Would you mind, sir?”

Zach shook his head, asked for a Bloody Mary and helped himself to a long look at the attendant’s legs as she made her way up the cabin.

They were good legs. Great, actually. She had a nice bottom, too, and probably a face to go with the rest. He hadn’t really noticed.

But what face would compare to Eve’s? He never had decided what color her eyes really were, if they were the blue of sapphires or of the tropical sea. And her hair. That soft, silken, golden hair…

A scowl twisted across his face. He snatched up the newspaper lying beside him and buried his nose in it.

They landed in a driving rain, one that reminded him of the storm that had kept him and Eve trapped in that cabin in the mountains. Dammit, how long was this going to go on? he asked himself angrily as he headed for the Boston shuttle counter. There was no reason for everything to remind him of Eve, no reason to think of her at all.

The sooner he got home, the better.

But that, it seemed, would not be happening for a while. The rain was getting worse, and so were the winds accompanying it. The next shuttle for Boston had been canceled; passengers were asked to be patient and wait.

Be patient? Hell, that was the last thing he felt like being right now. And there was nothing worse than waiting around in an airport. He was hungry, too; an airline’s idea of food and his had never been the same.

Zach looked at his watch. It was early evening. Grant was probably at home, having an early drink. How long would it take to get into the city? Thirty minutes, maybe? There wouldn’t be much traffic, not on a rainy Sunday. He could pop by his brother’s penthouse, have dinner with Grant and bring him up to date on Triad.

The business part of Triad, Zach thought with a little frown.

He started toward a bank of telephones, but all the booths were full. Well, he thought as he hurried toward the terminal exit, there was no reason to phone Grant. Neither he nor Grant nor Cade had ever been sticklers for formality.

Zach stepped outside, turned his collar up against the rain and signaled a waiting taxi. He got in, gave the driver Grant’s Fifth Avenue address and settled back in his seat.

He probably wasn’t fit company for anybody. His mood was lousy and his disposition rotten, but who better to let it out on than the brother who’d conned him into going out to California in the first place?

Besides, that was what family was for, Zach thought.

For the first time in hours, he smiled.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

&n

bsp; IT HAD almost stopped raining by the time the cab dropped Zach off in front of Grant’s apartment building. The air smelled clean and fresh.

Everything had improved, except for Zach’s mood.

Damn, but he felt like such a fool. For a man to fall victim to the same kind of female barracuda not once but twice in his life was humiliating.

The lobby was empty. There’d always been a doorman on duty, but tonight the only sign of life was a half-empty coffee container and an open copy of the Sunday Daily News.

Not that it mattered. Months before, Grant had insisted on giving Zach a key to the private elevator that led to the penthouse.

The elevator doors sighed shut behind him and Zach leaned wearily against the wall as the car began to rise.

The shuttle flight being canceled hadn’t been so bad. Truth was, he was looking forward to seeing Grant. They’d have a few drinks, talk about life in general and nothing in particular, maybe even have a few laughs—and laughs were certainly what he needed now.

Anything to keep him from thinking about Eve and how she’d suckered him in.

The elevator doors slid open on the penthouse foyer. Zach shook his head, smiling to himself as he always did at this first sight of his brother’s home. It was big, and impressive, and almost painfully sterile.

Well, not as sterile as he’d remembered. There were bright flowers in the white vase that had once held an arrangement of something he’d always privately thought looked like a funeral offering. And there was a new painting on the wall, too, something so vivid it made his eyes water.

Zach put down his carryon. Man, it was certainly quiet.

“Grant?” He stepped farther into the apartment. “Mrs. Edison?”

A black shape came hurtling out of nowhere and threw itself at Zach’s legs.

“Hey,” he yelled.

He staggered back, regained his footing, stepped down on something soft and yielding and crashed to the floor. The thing he’d stepped on gave a bloodcurdling yowl, raced over his chest and disappeared into the living room.

Zach’s heart was pounding. He sat up carefully and stared at the creature that had knocked him down. It was a dog, a mangy-looking mutt with funny ears, and it wasn’t interested in ripping out his throat, it just wanted to lick the chin off his face.