The Way You Love Me Page 3

  Paige’s hand clenched. She could easily hear the countless echoes of those exact words while growing up in a world where she often seemed out of place. No matter that she wasn’t a class officer or a cheerleader or any of the things she so desperately tried to be, her mother always gave her a smile and a hug, and those words to hang on to.

  “If you love me, then why won’t you tell me what is going on?” Paige went to her, forcing herself to say the unthinkable. “Is it a man?”

  Shock raced across her mother’s unlined face. The relief that Paige felt was instantaneous, but so many unanswered questions remained.

  “I honored my marriage vows,” her mother said, her voice hushed.

  “Mother, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you disappear from time to time.”

  Her mother laughed, but it was laced with nervousness. “I don’t disappear. You can call me on my cell. The spa doesn’t allow phone calls in or out on their switchboard.” She lifted her hand, paused, then placed it on Paige’s shoulder as if she wasn’t sure it would be accepted. “You can always reach me.”

  The uncertainty tore at Paige. Once she and her mother had been the closest of friends and confidantes; now they were uneasy around each other.

  “I’m home now and I’m not going anyplace. I’m here,” her mother continued.

  For now. “I’ll take your things up.” Paige reached for the overnight case her mother held, breaking contact. In the past Paige would have hugged her back.

  Her mother caught her arm, staring at the jeweled bracelet on her right wrist. “Is this new?”

  Paige glanced at the platinum bangle bracelet circled with diamonds. She’d forgotten she had it on. She frowned. “Russell gave it to me today as an early birthday present.”

  “Your birthday is four months away.”

  Paige’s mouth curved. “You know Russell. He said he wanted to be the first to wish me happy birthday.” Her smile faded. “He said he had been looking at it for a while and had shown it to Father.”

  Her mother set her case down, her intent gaze on Paige. “Are you going to accept it?”

  The disapproval in her mother’s voice was obvious. “Russell loved my father.” Paige hadn’t meant the words to come out so accusatory. Her mother flinched. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “It’s all right.” Her mother picked up the luggage, trying to smile and failing. “You’re probably tired.”

  For some odd reason, tears clogged Paige’s throat. Her mother always accepted her, never criticized her. “Russell asked me to wear it to remind me that he is always there for me.”

  “That’s an expensive gift for a friend,” her mother said, searching Paige’s eyes.

  “He’s hinted that he wants more,” Paige confessed. “He was hoping there might be an announcement at my birthday party. Father wanted us together.”

  This time her mother touched her arm without hesitation. “What do you want?”

  “For my father to be alive, for things to be the way they once were.” Shrugging from her mother’s hold, Paige took the luggage and turned toward the stairs.

  “Paige.”

  Quickly climbing, Paige heard her mother call her but refused to look back. Unless her mother explained what was going on, the closeness they once shared was gone. The secret she refused to divulge stood between them, and Paige wasn’t sure it was possible for them to regain their once loving and open relationship.

  And it had something to do with Trent Masters. She just hoped and prayed whatever it was hadn’t contributed to her father’s stroke.

  Shane’s cell rang a little after midnight. Instead of trying to sleep, he was pulling an all-nighter at the command center. He answered without taking his eyes from one of ten computer screens in front of him. “Shane.”

  “You have to come and save Paige,” Mrs. Albright’s hysterical voice pleaded.

  Shane’s gut clenched. He spun away from the computer and stood. “What happened?”

  “Russell gave her an expensive bracelet, then hinted that there might be something more to announce at her birthday party,” Mrs. Albright said. “He lied and said her father had seen the bracelet and approved.”

  “How do you know he lied?”

  “Because Russell is too selfish to give a woman a ten-thousand-dollar bracelet. It was another way to sway her feelings for him. Unfortunately she believed him. He’s going to ask her to marry him. That can’t happen. He’s a manipulator, a selfish, greedy man. You’ll see once you investigate him.”

  Shane had received an extensive report on Russell less than two hours after he’d met with Mrs. Albright. He hadn’t liked what he’d learned. Believing that Mrs. Albright might be right in her belief that Russell’s private life was vastly different from his public persona, Shane had enlisted the aid of a highly recommended investigation firm in Atlanta. According to the report they sent, Russell was two weeks into an affair. Shane’s temper had spiked on reading the information, and he’d yet to fully cool off.

  No woman deserved that kind of ill treatment. He was going to Atlanta. What he couldn’t figure out was if he was accepting the job because of Paige, or her mother, or because he couldn’t help himself. Probably a bit of all three. Shane hadn’t had a moment’s peace since Paige’s mother visited the compound.

  He owed Paige, and he always paid his debts. “Give me a couple of days to set things up and I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you.” The relief in her voice was obvious. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” he reminded her.

  “But you will. You’ll save Paige. You’ll do what I couldn’t do.”

  “Mrs. Albright—”

  “Good night, Shane. I can sleep now.”

  Shane disconnected the phone. At least one of them could.

  Chapter 2

  Shane turned into the almost hidden driveway of Joann Albright’s estate shortly after eleven on a clear Saturday morning two days after he’d last spoken with her. The mile-long drive curved through mature trees and flower gardens bursting with color. As the car straightened on the last curve, the house came into view. It was a beaut. Three stories, pristine white, with Doric columns and wide balconies running the length of each floor.

  The house had belonged to Mrs. Albright’s parents, second-generation millionaires whose own parents had made their fortune in banking and insurance. Both had died over two years ago. She could have sold the prime piece of real estate for millions, but instead had kept the house and the employees needed to maintain its grandeur. She was a woman with a strong sense of family, and she’d lived a hellish life because of it.

  Water spewed from a stone fountain rimmed with late-blooming azaleas as Shane pulled in front of the house behind a silver Audi. Shutting off the motor, he climbed out of the rental sedan and grabbed his luggage from the trunk. He would have preferred his specially equipped Porsche, but he was supposed to be an unemployed video game designer trying to figure out what he wanted to do and where he wanted to do it.

  Sierra had been overjoyed he’d kept her cover story that he was the protégé, not the son, of an old college roommate of Mrs. Albright. With any cover story, it was always best to stick as close to the truth as possible. His mother had barely finished high school.

  From Rio there had been a look that warned Shane he was playing with fire. Wouldn’t be the first time, and thus far he hadn’t been burned. He went up the three stone steps and rang the doorbell. Lush, flowering vines flowed from huge stone urns on either side of the porch.

  One of the heavily carved double doors opened. A slender olive-skinned woman, wearing a gray maid’s uniform answered the door. “Yes?” She appeared to be in her midfifties.

  “Good morning, I’m Shane Elliott. Mrs. Albright is expecting me.”

  A warm smile washed over her face. “Good morning, Mr. Elliott.” She stepped back. “You can leave your luggage here. Sirus will take it up to your room. I’ll show you to M
rs. Albright. She’s on the terrace reading.”

  “Thank you.” Stepping inside the wide foyer, Shane set his suitcase on the white marble floor. He’d barely straightened when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes. His head slowly turned. Somehow he knew who he would see.

  Knowing didn’t prepare him for the punch to his gut on seeing Paige Albright, one graceful hand on the polished oak balustrade, the other carrying a brown leather attaché case.

  The light from the high windows bordering the front doors bathed her in the morning sun. Her lustrous auburn hair, pulled back from her captivating face, hung past her shoulders. She had on a black silk shell with thin straps and a straight skirt that stopped at the bend of her knees. Strands of pearls of varying lengths graced her slender throat. Paige glowed.

  Suddenly she stopped, her head slowly coming up and around. Shane wondered if anything about him would trigger her memory—or had he been the only one to relive that night over and over? Curiosity flickered in her gray eyes. Eyes he’d spent countless hours thinking about.

  “Hello, you must be Paige Albright. I’m Shane Elliott.” He might as well get it over with. Since he had been wearing the night-vision goggles, she wouldn’t recognize him. Besides, fear and time distorted the memory, as proven by the number of wrongly accused people in prison thanks to an eyewitness. The intonation of his voice was another matter, but it had been deep and raspy back then due to his arousal, and anger at his lack of self-control.

  Finally her exquisite face curved into a warm smile. “Mr. Elliott.” Continuing down the stairs, she reached the bottom riser and extended her hand. “Welcome to Atlanta and Fountain Oaks.”

  His fingers closed around her small, delicate hand. He expected the softness, the leap of awareness, the assault of her fragrance he’d been unable to forget. He expected them, but the reality gave him another punch to the gut. He released her hand. What he really wanted was to continue holding it, hold her.

  He lifted his sunshades. “Shane, please, and I hope I can call you Paige.”

  “Of course,” she said, a frown knitting her brow for a second before it was gone. “I hate to run out on you, but I have a charity luncheon I organized to attend.”

  “I understand.” He reached for the black jacket in the crook of her arm. “May I?”

  For the briefest moment he thought she might refuse, then she nodded again and allowed him to assist with the jacket, switching the attaché case from one hand to the other. His finger lightly brushed across the nape of her neck as he pulled her hair free. He felt her shiver seconds before she stepped away.

  “Thank you,” she said, her gaze not meeting his as she turned to the maid. “Please tell Mother I’ll see her at the luncheon.”

  “She wanted to see you before you left,” the maid explained.

  Paige’s pleasant expression slipped for a brief moment. “Please tell her that I was in a hurry and will call her. Good-bye, Shane.” She headed for the door.

  “Paige.”

  Paige jerked to a stop at the sound of her mother’s voice. Slowly she turned, her hand clenched the handle of the case. “Good morning, Mother. I’m in a hurry.”

  “Then I won’t keep you,” Mrs. Albright said, her smile bright and forced as the maid left the room. “You’ve met Shane.”

  “Yes.” Paige flicked her gaze toward him.

  “I thought the luncheon would be an excellent opportunity for Shane to meet some of your friends,” her mother continued bravely. “He could use my ticket since the luncheon is sold out.”

  Surprise, then relief shone in Paige’s eyes. Shane knew her mother saw it as well when her smile wavered, then firmed. “It will give me a chance to work in the flower garden.”

  Paige nodded and turned to him, her gaze sweeping over his jeans and polo shirt. “It’s business attire.”

  “I’ll try to grin and bear it,” Shane said, thinking that mother and daughter were doing much the same thing.

  “The address is on the invitation,” Paige told him. She started for the door, then swung back. “There’s always a seat available if you change your mind.”

  This time her mother’s smile was real. “I’ll be fine. You go on. I know you always like to get there before everyone to ensure everything is in place.”

  “All right.” Paige looked at Shane. “We’re at table five. I usually don’t stay seated very much, but I’ll tell Jackie Weaver, the foundation president, to expect you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “See you later. Good-bye.” Once again she started for the front door.

  “Let me get that.” Shane quickly stepped around her and reached for the brass doorknob at the same time she did. Their fingers brushed. She jerked hers back, then quickly went through the door he’d opened.

  He watched her throw the attaché case in the passenger seat of the Audi, then speed away. He’d touched her on purpose the first time and just then, to see if the heat, the leap of awareness, had been a fluke or wishful thinking on his part.

  It wasn’t. Knowing she was as aware of him as he was of her would present a problem . . . if he let it.

  He closed the door, resisting the urge to stare after her, just as he resisted the urge to dwell on the awareness between them. He was here to do a job. Allowing his emotions to get in the way would only complicate matters. Complications screwed up a mission.

  “Thank you for coming,” Mrs. Albright said when he came back to her.

  There was such optimism in her face, her voice, that he hated to disappoint her, but he wouldn’t give her false hope. Shane picked up his luggage. “I’m not sure how much more I can do in person.”

  “Once you meet Russell you’ll see for yourself that he’s not the man for her,” Mrs. Albright said. “You’d have to be an excellent judge of character to work for Blade.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  She sighed. “No. Paige is suspicious of the times I’ve left to visit Trent and his wife since Paige’s father died. It’s created a wedge between us. Having you here will make things less tense between us.”

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know that much about a mother’s love until he’d met Sierra’s mother and her extended family. He certainly hadn’t been the recipient of it.

  Mrs. Albright smiled sadly. “So am I. Paige has always been shy, except when she is helping others. She’s nothing like her take-charge, outgoing older brother, Zach. She loves deeply and is hurt easily. I promised her that I wouldn’t leave again.”

  “I’m not sure that will solve the problem.”

  “Neither am I, but it will help I think.” Mrs. Albright glanced at the suitcase. “You need to get dressed and to the luncheon. Russell will be there.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  It had finally happened. After Paige had given up, had accepted that, along with her other faults, she also carried a genetic malfunction, she’d just been proven wrong. The impossible had finally happened.

  Her hands trembling, her stomach not any steadier, Paige eased to a stop and shoved the car into park as soon as she was out of sight of the house. Her wobbly fingers touched the nape of her neck, the exact spot Shane’s callused fingers had brushed across. She shivered.

  The awareness, the leap of her pulse that had yet to return to normal, had been as unnerving as it was exhilarating. After all these years, she’d finally experienced the heat of desire that she had read about, dreamed of, and, yes, yearned for.

  She could see why Shane wore sunshades; he was lethal without them. One look and the woman would be mesmerized, lost in the depths of his beautiful black eyes. Just as she had been.

  But it was for the wrong man.

  Her eyes shut. She leaned back against the headrest. Russell, not a virtual stranger, should be the one she was attracted to. He was the one her father had picked out for her. Tears misted in her eyes. She missed her father so much, wished there had been some way to erase from his face the worry that had become increasingly more
evident in the few months before his death.

  He hadn’t wanted her help, had brushed off her attempts. That had hurt, but she had understood that her father was from the old school. He felt it was his responsibility to care for his family. He’d worked hard to do just that. The night of his fatal stroke he had worked late in his office, then checked into the hotel room he kept for clients.

  She leaned her head forward until it rested on the steering wheel. He’d been alone when he’d become ill, but had the presence of mind to call an ambulance. No matter the differences they were going through, her mother had rushed to his side. She’d been with him when he died.

  Zach had been in LA, and Paige had been there visiting. Their father died while they were on a chartered plane heading back to Atlanta. Their only comfort was that he hadn’t been alone.

  Opening her eyes, she brushed away the tears, shoved the car into drive, and pulled off. She hadn’t been able to help her father, but there were others she could help. First, though, she had to see Russell. She pulled onto the highway and headed for the freeway.

  Just the thought of the coming conversation with him made her hands clamp on the steering wheel. She hated confrontations, hated letting people down, but there was no other way around this. She’d been conditioned to please people, to get them to like her, for as long as she could remember.

  She hadn’t fit in growing up. Her father was a business whiz, her mother the consummate hostess, her brother the most popular boy in school, and then ordinary Paige had been born. Her main goal, her only goal, had been to somehow have people accept and like her. Now that they did, she hated to see disappointment in their faces.

  Russell was not a man to accept defeat, but neither was he the man who made her heart beat faster, her body heat.

  She’d always thought that, perhaps in time, the special connection she wanted between the two of them would happen. Now she knew it wouldn’t. It wasn’t fair to keep him hanging. The problem was, Russell had a way of talking over and around her.