Mr. Hyde’s Assets Read online

His fingers bumped against something. With a triumphant grin, he pulled it out, only to mutter a disgusted curse when he realized he held a petrified hamburger, and not the end of a seat belt. How in hell—?

  “Find it?” Candice queried at his back, sounding amused.

  “Ah, no, not yet.” Blocking her view with his body, Austin searched for a suitable hiding place for the burger. The sack of trash sat behind Candice on the garage floor, so that was out of the question, unless he wanted her to see just how big a slob he was.

  And for some insane reason, he didn’t.

  Growing desperate, he opened the glove compartment, then quickly slammed it shut on the horrors that greeted him there. Obviously, the glove compartment wasn’t a good place to stash chocolate doughnuts, especially in warm weather.

  There was only one solution, he decided.

  He stuffed the hamburger into his shirt and backed out of the truck. “Give me a moment to change shirts. I’ve gotten something on this one.”

  “Did you—”

  He didn’t stay to hear her question, rushing upstairs to his apartment and changing in record time. By the time he returned, Candice had found a seat belt on the passenger side, and one for him as well. She looked so pleased, Austin had to resist the urge to kiss her sweetly smiling mouth.

  On second thought, why should he resist?

  She gasped as his mouth touched hers for an all-too-brief instant. With a saucy wink, Austin moved around the truck and slid into the driver’s seat. He slanted her an apologetic look, yet made it clear he wasn’t really sorry for kissing her. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She sounded as if she meant it, which pleased him. He started the engine and maneuvered the Dodge carefully between the Cadillac and the Rolls Royce. Soon, they were heading down the long drive to the main street. Austin cracked a window, welcoming the cool air. He wasn’t about to let a cloudy day mar his good mood.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “You mean, first?” Austin glanced in the rearview mirror, relaxing as the house grew smaller and smaller. He didn’t realize how cooped up he’d begun to feel until now; he could scarcely imagine how Candice felt. “Our first stop is Kmart.”

  “Kmart?”

  He turned his face to hide a grin. “Yes, Kmart. It’s a discount store that—”

  “I know what Kmart is,” Candice said stiffly. “I’ve shopped there before.”

  Not in a long while, Austin thought to himself. But then, her husband had owned a chain of expensive clothing stores; he supposed there wasn’t any need to shop elsewhere.

  They rode in silence until he swung the rattling truck into the Kmart parking lot. “Stay here,” he instructed. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

  But—

  “It’ll only take a moment.”

  It took longer than a moment for Austin to choose the neon pink over the lime green. After a quick glance into his wallet, he added plain white tennis shoes and a pair of socks to the ensemble. He couldn’t keep from grinning as he imagined the look on her face.

  Today, he vowed, Candice Vanausdale wouldn’t be recognized.

  Chapter Eight

  Candice tried to keep a straight face when she pulled the lightweight, bright pink sweats from the plastic Kmart sack.

  She tried hard, in fact, conscious of Austin watching her with a solemn intensity that made her want to squirm and blush. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt this endearing man’s feelings.

  But in the end, a betraying giggle escaped. Then another. She smothered the first one with a cough, but not the second or the third or the fourth. Finally, she slumped in the seat and covered her face with her hands, overcome with helpless laughter.

  “Something funny?” he demanded, sounding ridiculously hurt.

  Candice sobered instantly. “You—you really want me to wear this?”

  “Do you want to have fun?” he countered. A twinkle crept into his eyes, followed by a slow curving of his lips.

  It was at that moment that Candice realized she’d been had. She sat upright in the seat. “You! You had me thinking that I—that you—oh!” She reached into the bag, withdrew a tennis shoe, and threw it at him. It bounced harmlessly against the window and landed in his lap.

  Austin gave a low, husky laugh that sent shivers down her spine. He kept on laughing as he started the truck and steered the vehicle out of the parking lot. “Get changed, will ya? We’ve only got about fifteen minutes before we get to Clyde’s.”

  “Who’s Clyde, and—” Candice broke off, shocked as the rest of his words sank in. “Get changed?” she asked faintly. Certainly she had heard him incorrectly.

  “That’s what I said.” White teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “I’ll be driving, so you don’t have to worry about my looking. Don’t tell me you’ve never changed in a vehicle before?”

  No, she had not! Well, not that she could remember. Candice sputtered, “But—but what about everyone else?”

  They pulled onto the freeway, blending into the heavy lunch-hour traffic. She glanced around at the cars surrounding them on all sides and shook her head. He had to be joking.

  Didn’t he?

  She looked at him but detected no sign of teasing in the square cut of his jaw; he stared straight ahead with an air of intense concentration. Could she? Should she? She jerked her gaze back to the bug-spattered windshield in front of her, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He was daring her, of course.

  “Ten minutes left,” he said without looking at her. “You finished?”

  Candice wet her lips. “I—I haven’t started.”

  “You are wearing a bra, aren’t you?”

  Heat swept into her face at his bold question. “Of course.”

  “Well, think of it as your bathing suit top.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it isn’t my bathing suit top.”

  Austin rested his right arm across the top of the steering wheel, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. “Most of the bathing suit tops I’ve seen cover less than a bra.”

  Candice thought about the demure one-piece suits Howard had insisted she wear and decided against commenting. It would only lead to questions she didn’t want to answer.

  Slowly, she withdrew the garish pink outfit from the sack and set the rest aside. Was she actually considering doing something this outrageous? She was well past the age of giving in to a dare… wasn’t she? Fingering the soft material, she thought about how much more comfortable it would feel around her thickening middle. Not only more comfortable, but totally unlike anything Mrs. Howard Vanausdale would wear.

  No one would look twice at her. Her lips twitched. Well, maybe they’d look twice because of the outfit’s color, but not because they recognized the person within.

  Howard would have—

  Candice drew in a sharp, angry breath at the unwelcome thought. That did it! With trembling fingers, she unfastened the buttons of her blouse. She didn’t dare look at Austin; her skin already felt flushed and hot just thinking of his eyes on her as she undressed. If he watched her, she didn’t want to know.

  She was struggling into the top when a car horn sounded loudly beside her window. Too mortified to look, she froze, her face buried in the neck of the shirt.

  “Don’t worry,” Austin assured her, his voice shaking with laughter, “he’s honking at the car ahead of us. Some kid is giving him the bird.”

  With a swift jerk, Candice lowered the top over her flaming face and pushed the sleeves up. She didn’t believe him for a moment. “So why are you laughing?” she demanded through gritted teeth.

  “Because the kid looked about three years old.”

  Candice didn’t share his humor. “Someone should teach him better manners.”

  “Someone,” Austin drawled, unaffected by her stern tone, “must have taught him how to use his middle finger.”

  He di
d have a point, Candice reluctantly conceded, struggling out of her pants and into the sweat bottoms. A pleasurable sigh slipped between her lips as the waistband stretched comfortably around her waist.

  “Better?”

  “Yes.” Candice rolled the window down a notch to cool her flaming cheeks, adding, “But I still think your idea of fun differs greatly from mine, Mr. Hyde.”

  “So you’ve said,” he grumbled. “Don’t you think you should start calling me Austin?” He clicked on the blinker and began to inch the truck into the next lane.

  Feeling unaccountably edgy, Candice folded her arms and stared out the window. “Give me one good reason I should.”

  He steered the truck onto the exit ramp before delivering his outrageous answer. “Because you just took off your clothes for me.”

  Candice kept her face turned away from him so he couldn’t see her blush. The man was incorrigible!

  ———

  Sometime later, at Clyde’s Rib Ranch, Austin eyed Candice over a meaty, messy rib with a feeling of satisfaction. Neon pink wasn’t exactly her color, but then, neither was the barbecue sauce on her chin and nose. Still, he couldn’t have been more aroused if she’d been sitting across from him naked and covered in barbecue sauce. “How do you like the ribs?” he asked abruptly, wisely dispelling the beginnings of a wonderful fantasy.

  “Mmm,” she mumbled, dropping a rib bone and diving for another. She forked baked beans into her mouth and took another bite of rib as if she hadn’t eaten in a week.

  Austin chuckled. He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Let’s hope they don’t charge me extra for the sauce.”

  With a bewildered glance at the cluttered table, Candice swallowed and asked, “What sauce?”

  “The sauce you’re wearing on your face.”

  She started to reach for a napkin but drew her hand back at the last moment. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t believe you this time.”

  Austin shrugged. “Suit yourself. I mean, it doesn’t bother me, and it is a good camouflage.”

  “I still don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true.”

  The waitress interrupted their playful argument to give them their check. “Everything all right?” she asked, ripping the ticket from the book and laying it beside Austin’s plate. She glanced from Austin to Candice, her gaze widening. “Good Lord! I’ll get you a towel for your face, Mrs. Vanausdale. The ribs are good, but they sure are messy!”

  Austin tried to keep a straight face as Candice turned fiery red, nearly matching the sauce. “I did warn you,” he pointed out.

  “You knew I didn’t believe you!” she hissed furiously. Snatching a napkin and nearly upending the holder, she began scrubbing at her face.

  Suddenly, she froze. Austin caught sight of her horrified expression, and at the same instant he realized what the waitress had said.

  Mrs. Vanausdale. The waitress had called Candice by her name, and worst of all, without the slightest hesitation.

  The shredded napkin fell from Candice’s nerveless fingers, barbecue sauce still highlighting her suddenly pale skin. She looked like a little girl who had just lost her favorite Barbie doll. A messy little girl.

  Austin muttered an oath and shoved his plate aside. “How the hell did she recognize you?”

  “We… we should go,” she said, her voice growing stronger. The crushed look faded from her eyes; resignation, then determination, took its place.

  Still cursing, Austin flung more than enough money onto the table and took her arm, guiding her through the lunchtime crowd. They passed their waitress along the way, and Austin snatched the wet towel from her hands without pausing.

  “Wait! You can’t take that!”

  “Watch me,” Austin muttered, shoving the door to the diner open. Ahead in the parking lot, their worst nightmare awaited them; he was tall, blond, and carried a camera. The waitress must have called him the moment they’d stepped into the restaurant and she recognized Candice, Austin thought. He’d heard some members of the press often offered enticing rewards for tips.

  The reporter caught sight of them and pushed away from the van he’d been leaning against. He began to walk eagerly to meet them.

  “Austin,” Candice warned needlessly.

  “I see him.” An image of Mrs. Merryweather’s knowing, accusing face loomed larger than life in Austin’s mind. He had to think of something, and he had to think of something fast. He refused to end this memorable day with egg on his face.

  As the reporter came closer, Austin slowed his pace. A germ of an idea began to take shape. It was outrageous, preposterous… but what else could he do? Decking the bastard wouldn’t work; it would only generate more unwanted attention.

  “Mrs. Vanausdale, may I ask you a few questions?”

  Why did they bother to ask if they could ask? Austin wondered viciously. If she said no, they’d ask anyway. Stupid jerks.

  Throwing himself into the role he’d quickly created, Austin stopped in the middle of the parking lot and propped a hand on his hip. He felt Candice bump into him from behind, felt the tension humming through her body as surely as he felt his own.

  The reporter reached them, eyeing first Candice, then Austin. Just as Mrs. Merry-weather had predicted, he seemed extremely interested in discovering Austin’s role in Candice Vanausdale’s world.

  “Is this your new boyfriend, Mrs. Vanausdale? Are you—”

  “Boyfriend!” Austin managed a high, trilling laugh, fluttering a hand at the reporter. “Believe me, honey, she’s not my type.” He slowly looked the reporter over, arching an interested eyebrow. “But you might be. Are you single?” Behind him, he heard Candice smother a gasp.

  For a comical moment the reporter was speechless. Finally, he stammered, “Are you—are you saying that you and Mrs. Vanausdale are just—”

  “You mean Candy? Well, I guess nobody calls her that these days.” Austin tittered again, lifting his voice several octaves above his normal range. “Candy and I go way back, honey. Back to high school, in fact.” He leaned in to whisper, “She knew about me long before anyone else, if you know what I mean.”

  The reporter licked his lips, trying to appear subtle about moving away from Austins grinning face. He grabbed the camera and lifted it to his eye.

  Austin snatched it down, forcing another silly grin. “Oh, no, you don’t want to take any pictures! If Jo Jo finds out I was talking to you, hell—”

  “Jo Jo?” the reporter gulped.

  “Yes, Jo Jo.” Austin feigned a pout. “He’s my boyfriend, but I’m thinking of leaving him. He’s so possessive, if you know what I mean.” He turned and wrapped an arm around a speechless Candice, pulling her in for a chummy hug. “Candy here has just about convinced me to dump him. She doesn’t think he treats me right.” He squeezed her shoulders and beamed at her. “Isn’t that right, Candy girl?”

  Before she could think of answering, Austin squinted beyond the reporter’s shoulder, allowing his eyes to widen in fear. “Oh, no! I think I see his car. Candy, is that Jo Jo?” Frantically, he flapped his arms at the reporter. “You’ve got to leave before he sees us together!”

  “But I’m not with—”

  “Go, go! He’ll tear you apart with his bare hands—just ask Candy! The last guy he caught me with couldn’t talk for days after Jo Jo finished with him.”

  “C-Couldn’t—” The terrified reporter stumbled back, his mouth agape. He turned and ran to the van, hopping inside and nearly knocking his head against the roof in his frenzy. The starter ground several times before it caught; black smoke billowed from the tailpipe as he gunned the engine.

  Austin kept his arm around Candice as the news van sped out of the parking lot and disappeared onto the freeway. He felt like a big dumb fool, but also proud. Mrs. Merryweather wouldn’t be chomping on him tonight, he thought smugly. And Candice could sleep without worrying about tomorrows papers.

  Candice stirred against his side. “You were wonder—”r />
  “I’d really prefer to forget about it.”

  “Of course.”

  He detected the laughter in her voice and groaned. Turning her firmly into him, he covered her smiling lips with his own.

  “What—what was that for?” she demanded—a little breathlessly, Austin noted with satisfaction.

  “Just reestablishing my manhood,” he growled softly, taking her arm and heading for the truck. “Now let’s get Mrs. Merryweather’s eggs and get you the hell home.”

  ———

  “Why don’t you want her to know I’m your brother?”

  Austin snorted his disbelief that Jack had to ask the question. “I’d think the reason is obvious. Who in their right mind would want anyone to know they were related to you?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny,” Austin said, but his lips twitched at Jack’s hurt expression. Quickly, he reminded himself that Jack hadn’t paid his dues. Not yet. But he was about to.

  “Other than the obvious, I don’t want her to become suspicious about why I’m there.” His mouth hardened into a flat line as he held out a hand, palm up. “Now give me the file.”

  Jack edged slowly away. “Do you have any idea how much trouble I could get into letting you see this file?”

  Unperturbed, Austin reached around and snatched the folder from Jack’s hand, which he had hidden ineffectively behind his back. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re already in? Now go away like a good little sneaky, crazy brother.”

  Ten minutes earlier, Austin had surprised Jack in his office, then scared the hell out of him by closing and locking the door. Now, finally, Austin had the lovely widows file in his hands.

  Jack continued to sweat and plead. “You gotta give me a break, bro! Do you know how many bribes I’ve turned down over that file?”

  With a casual flick of his wrist Austin opened the folder. “Yeah, I know,” he said, without looking up. “I was here when that reporter offered you twenty grand. But this is different, and you damned well know it. I’ve got every right to know about the mother of my child, and it’s all right here at my fingertips.”

  He couldn’t resist taunting Jack. Hell, he deserved it—and then some. No, he wasn’t through with Jack. Payback was hell.