Loe raamatut: «Steel Resolve»

Chapter One

The moment Fiona found the letter in the bottom of Chase’s sock drawer, she knew it was bad news. Fear squeezed the breath from her as her heart beat so hard against her rib cage that she thought she would pass out. Grabbing the bureau for support, she told herself it might not be what she thought it was.

But the envelope was a pale lavender, and the handwriting was distinctly female. Worse, Chase had kept the letter a secret. Why else would it be hidden under his socks? He hadn’t wanted her to see it because it was from that other woman.

Now she wished she hadn’t been snooping around. She’d let herself into his house with the extra key she’d had made. She’d felt him pulling away from her the past few weeks. Having been here so many times before, she was determined that this one wasn’t going to break her heart. Nor was she going to let another woman take him from her. That’s why she had to find out why he hadn’t called, why he wasn’t returning her messages, why he was avoiding her.

They’d had fun the night they were together. She’d felt as if they had something special, although she knew the next morning that he was feeling guilty. He’d said he didn’t want to lead her on. He’d told her that there was some woman back home he was still in love with. He’d said their night together was a mistake. But he was wrong, and she was determined to convince him of it.

What made it so hard was that Chase was a genuinely nice guy. You didn’t let a man like that get away. The other woman had. Fiona wasn’t going to make that mistake even though he’d been trying to push her away since that night. But he had no idea how determined she could be, determined enough for both of them that this wasn’t over by a long shot.

It wasn’t the first time she’d let herself into his apartment when he was at work. The other time, he’d caught her and she’d had to make up some story about the building manager letting her in so she could look for her lost earring.

She’d snooped around his house the first night they’d met—the same night she’d found his extra apartment key and had taken it to have her own key made in case she ever needed to come back when Chase wasn’t home.

The letter hadn’t been in his sock drawer that time.

That meant he’d received it since then. Hadn’t she known he was hiding something from her? Why else would he put this letter in a drawer instead of leaving it out along with the bills he’d casually dropped on the table by the front door?

Because the letter was important to him, which meant that she had no choice but to read it.

Her heart compressed into a hard knot as she carefully lifted out the envelope. The handwriting made her pulse begin to roar in her ears. The woman’s handwriting was very neat, very precise. She hated her immediately. The return address confirmed it. The letter was from the woman back in Montana that Chase had told her he was still in love with.

Mary Cardwell Savage, the woman who’d broken Chase’s heart and one of the reasons that the cowboy had ended up in Arizona. Her friend Patty told her all about him. Chase worked for her husband, Rick. That’s how she and Chase had met, at a party at their house.

What struck her now was the date on the postmark. Her vision blurred for a moment. Two weeks ago? Anger flared inside her again. That was right after their night together. About the same time that he’d gotten busy and didn’t have time, he said, to date or even talk. What had this woman said in her letter? Whatever it was, Fiona knew it was the cause of the problem with her and Chase.

Her fingers trembled as she carefully opened the envelope flap and slipped out the folded sheet of pale lavender paper. The color alone made her sick to her stomach. She sniffed it, half expecting to smell the woman’s perfume.

There was only a faint scent, just enough to be disturbing. She listened for a moment, afraid Chase might come home early and catch her again. He’d been angry the last time. He would be even more furious if he caught her reading the letter he’d obviously hidden from her.

Unfolding the sheet of paper she tried to brace herself. She felt as if her entire future hung on what was inside this envelope.

Her throat closed as she read the words, devouring them as quickly as her gaze could take them in. After only a few sentences, she let her gaze drop to the bottom line, her heart dropping with it: I’ll always love you, Mary.

This was the woman Chase said he was still in love with. She’d broken up with him and now she wanted him back? Who did this Mary Savage of Big Sky, Montana, think she was? Fury churned inside Fiona as she quickly read all the way through the letter, the words breaking her heart and filling her with an all-consuming rage.

Mary Savage had apparently pretended that she was only writing to Chase to let him know that some friend of his mother’s had dropped by with a package for him. If he confirmed his address, she’d be happy to send the package if he was interested.

But after that, the letter had gotten personal. Fiona stared at the words, fury warring with heartbreaking pain. The package was clearly only a ruse for the rest of the letter, which was a sickening attempt to lure him back. This woman was still in love with Chase. It made her sick to read the words that were such an obvious effort to remind him of their love, first love, and all that included. This woman had history with Chase. She missed him and regretted the way they’d left things. The woman had even included her phone number. In case he’d forgotten it?

Had Chase called her? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her, followed quickly by growing vehemence. She couldn’t believe this. This woman was not taking Chase away from her! She wouldn’t allow it. She and Chase had only gotten started, but Fiona knew that he was perfect for her and she for him. If anyone could help him get over this other woman, it was her. Chase was hers now. She would just have to make him see that.

Fiona tried to calm herself. The worst thing she could do was to confront Chase and demand to know why he had kept this from her. She didn’t need him to remind her that they didn’t have “that kind” of relationship as he had the other times. Not to mention how strained things had been between them lately. She’d felt him pulling away and had called and stopped by at every opportunity, afraid she was losing him.

And now she knew why. If the woman had been in Arizona, she would have gone to her house and—Deep breaths, she told herself. She had to calm down. She had to remember what had happened the last time. She’d almost ended up in jail.

Taking deep breaths, she reminded herself that this woman was no threat. Mary Cardwell Savage wasn’t in Arizona. She lived in Montana, hundreds of miles away.

But that argument did nothing to relieve her wrath or her growing apprehension. Chase hadn’t just kept the letter. He’d hidden it. His little secret. And worse, he was avoiding her, trying to give her the brush-off. She felt herself hyperventilating.

She knew she had to stop this. She thought of how good things had been between her and Chase that first night. The cowboy was so incredibly sexy, and he’d remarked how lovely she looked in her tailored suit and heels. He’d complimented her long blond hair as he unpinned it and let it fall around her shoulders. When he’d looked into her green eyes, she hadn’t needed him to tell her that he loved her. She had seen it.

The memory made her smile. And he’d enjoyed what she had waiting for him underneath that suit—just as she knew he would. They’d both been a little drunk that night. She’d had to make all the moves, but she hadn’t minded.

Not that she would ever admit it to him, but she’d set her sights on him the moment she’d seen him at the party. There was something about him that had drawn her. A vulnerability she recognized. He’d been hurt before. So had she, too many times to count. She’d told herself that the handsome cowboy didn’t know just how perfect he was, perfect for her.

Fiona hadn’t exactly thrown herself at him. She’d just been determined to make him forget that other woman by making herself indispensable. She’d brought over dinner the next night. He’d been too polite to turn her away. She’d come up with things they could do together: baseball games, picnics, movies. But the harder she’d tried, the more he’d made excuses for why he couldn’t go with her.

She stared down at the letter still in her hands, wanting to rip it to shreds, to tear this woman’s eyes out, to—

Suddenly she froze. Was that the door of the apartment opening? It was. Just as she’d feared, Chase had come home early.

At the sound of the door closing and locking, she hurriedly refolded the letter, slipped it back into the envelope and shoved it under his socks. She was trapped. There was no way to get out of the apartment without him seeing her. He was going to be upset with her. But the one thing she couldn’t let Chase know was that she’d found and read the letter. She couldn’t give him an excuse to break things off indefinitely, even though she knew he’d been trying to do just that for the past couple of weeks—ever since he’d gotten that letter.

She hurried to the bedroom door, but hesitated. Maybe she should get naked and let him find her lying on his bed. She wasn’t sure she could pull that off right now. Standing there, she tried to swallow back the anger, the hurt, the fear. She couldn’t let him know what she was feeling—let alone how desperate she felt. But as she heard him coming up the stairs, she had a terrifying thought.

What if she’d put the letter back in the drawer wrong? Had she seen the woman’s handwriting on the envelope? Wasn’t that why she’d felt such a jolt? Or was it just seeing the pale lavender paper of the envelope in his sock drawer that had made her realize what it was?

She couldn’t remember.

But would Chase remember how he’d left it and know that she’d seen it? Know that if she’d found it, she would read it?

She glanced back and saw that she hadn’t closed the top dresser drawer all the way. Hurrying back over to it, she shut the drawer as quietly as possible and was about to turn when she heard him in the doorway.

“Fiona? What the hell?” He looked startled at first when he saw her, and then shock quickly turned to anger.

She could see that she’d scared him. He’d scared her too. Her heart was a drum in her chest. She was clearly rattled. She could feel the fine mist of perspiration on her upper lip. With one look, he would know something was wrong.

But how could she not be upset? The man she’d planned to marry had kept a letter from his ex a secret from her. Worse, the woman he’d been pining over when Fiona had met him was still in love with him—and now he knew it. Hiding the letter proved that he was at least thinking about Mary Cardwell Savage.

“What are you doing here?” Chase demanded, glancing around as if the answer was in the room. “How the hell did you get in this time?”

She tried to cover, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “You startled me. I was looking for my favorite lipstick. I thought I might have left it here.”

He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “You have to stop this. I told you last time. Fiona—” His blue gaze swept past her to light on the chest of drawers.

Any question as to how he felt about the letter was quickly answered by his protective glance toward the top bureau drawer and the letter from his first love, the young woman who’d broken his tender heart, the woman he was still in love with.

Her own heart broke, shattering like a glass thrown against a wall. She wanted to kill Mary Cardwell Savage.

“Your lipstick?” He shook his head. “Again, how did you get in here?”

“You forgot to lock your door. I came by hoping to catch your building manager so he could let me in again—”

“Fiona, stop lying. I talked to him after the last time. He didn’t let you in.” The big cowboy held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

She pretended not to know what he was talking about, blinking her big green eyes at him in the best innocent look she could muster. She couldn’t lose this man. She wouldn’t. She did the only thing she could. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key. “I can explain.”

“No need,” he said as he took the key.

She felt real tears of remorse fill her eyes. But she saw that he was no longer affected by her tears. She stepped to him to put her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Maybe if she could draw him toward the bed...

“Fiona, stop.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled them from around his neck. “Stop!”

She stared at him, feeling the happy life she’d planned crumbling under her feet.

He groaned and shook his head. “You need to leave.”

“Sure,” she said and, trying to get control of her emotions, started to step past him. “Just let me look in one more place for my lipstick. I know I had it—”

“No,” he said, blocking her way. “Your lipstick isn’t here and we both know it. Just like your phone wasn’t here the last time you stopped by. This has to stop. I don’t want to see you again.”

“You don’t mean that.” Her voice broke. “Is this about the letter from that bitch who dumped you?”

His gaze shot to the bureau again. She watched his expression change from frustrated to furious. “You’ve been going through my things?”

“I told you, I was looking for my lipstick. I’m sorry I found the letter. You hadn’t called, and I thought maybe it was because of the letter.”

He sighed, and when he spoke it was as if he was talking to a small unruly child. “Fiona, I told you from the first night we met that I wasn’t ready for another relationship. You caught me at a weak moment, otherwise nothing would have happened between the two of us. I’d had too much to drink, and my boss’s wife insisted that I let you drive me back to my apartment.” He groaned. “I’m not trying to make excuses for what happened. We are both adults. But I was honest with you.” He looked pained, his blue eyes dark. “I’m sorry if you thought that that night was more than it was. But now you have to leave and not come back.”

“We can’t be over! You have to give me another chance.” She’d heard the words before from other men, more times than she wanted to remember. “I’m sorry. I was wrong to come here when you weren’t home. I won’t do anything like this again. I promise.”

“Stop!” he snapped. “You’re not listening. Look,” he said, lowering his voice. “You might as well know that I’m leaving at the end of the week. My job here is over.”

“Leaving?” This couldn’t be happening. “Where are you going?” she cried, and felt her eyes widen in alarm. “You’re going back to Montana. Back to her. Mary Cardwell Savage.” She spit out the words as if they were stones that had been lodged in her throat.

He shook his head. “I told you the night we met that there was no chance of me falling for another woman because I was still in love with someone else.”

She sneered at him. “She broke your heart. She’ll do it again. Don’t let her. She’s nobody.” She took a step toward him. “I can make you happy if you’ll just give me a chance.”

“Fiona, please go before either of us says something we’ll regret,” Chase said in a tone she’d never heard from him before. He was shutting her out. For good.

If he would only let her kiss him... She reached for him, thinking she could make him remember what they had together, but he pushed her back.

“Don’t.” He was shaking his head, looking at her as if horrified by her. There was anguish in his gaze. But there was also pity and disgust. That too she’d seen before. She felt a dark shell close around her heart.

“You’ll be sorry,” she said, feeling crushed but at the same time infused with a cold, murderous fury.

“I should have never have let this happen,” Chase was saying. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

Oh, he didn’t know sorry, but he would soon enough. He would rue this day. And if he thought he’d seen the last of her, he was in for a surprise. That Montana hayseed would have Chase over her dead body.