“Maybe it’s in the little book?” Garrett quipped.
Landon cocked his brow at him. “And maybe Halifax is in fact an idiot? I’d have to be deranged to base my actions on the writings in a book.”
“Why are you marrying her if not for the book?”
Landon was not going to tell them. He continued to skim. “Perhaps I just want a war buddy.”
Garrett let out a bark of laughter. He slapped his back. “Brother, you want another kind of buddy.”
Landon opted for silence.
“Whatever imbecile tracks his own dirt in a book deserves what’s coming to him,” Julian said in disgust.
“They deserve Landon.”
His brothers laughed, and Landon shoved a sheaf of clippings at each of them. “Either get back to work or make yourselves scarce.”
Garrett settled down on a chair and, eyeing him through the top of the open newspaper, said, “Mom wants to know all about her, you know.”
“I’m sure she got a full report from you, Garrett. Julian,” Landon said, knowing his younger brother’s verbiage was almost exclusively reserved for the women, “you talked to your friend in family law?”
“He’ll be here tomorrow. He’s catching a red eye.”
“Good. Garrett, you’re sending out men to cover the engagement party this evening?”
“I got it.”
Landon’s attention honed in on a heading. Halifax’s Wife Caught In Illicit Affair. A picture of Beth exiting the courtroom was followed by a long, detailed analysis of the court hearing. An awful possessiveness fisted him in its grip.
Grimly, he surveyed her picture. Something in her eyes was like a plea, an innocence.
She could be a liar, a trickster, a tease.
And, damn it, Landon still wanted her.
It was that complicated, and that simple.
Last night, as he lay in bed, remembering her, he’d sought reasons for the lust raging through him and had found none. Except that her wild, reckless kiss had promised breath to a dead man.
He was a man.
She was a woman.
He wanted her.
He’d have her.
If he had to pay her, if he had to wait, if he had to wrap Halifax by the feet and hang him upside down for Beth.
He’d have her.
All right, Beth, go get him.
Her heart pounded frantically as she at last made it to the top floor of the San Antonio Daily. With a fortifying breath, Beth followed Landon’s laser-eyed assistant—the one who’d denied her entrance to see him a number of times—to a formidable set of massive double doors.
An unfamiliar sensation assailed her as the practical woman flung the doors open and led her inside. Landon, in a sharp suit and a killer crimson tie, came around the boardroom table to greet her. Her stomach twisted and turned as he approached. What was this? Anticipation, excitement, dread?
Landon had been called many things she could remember, but the word gentle hadn’t been among them.
“Beth,” he said.
He stared directly at her as he strode over. Framed by spiky, dark lashes, his eyes gleamed as they raked her form. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, he looked so sexy when he smiled at her.
“Hi, Landon,” she said, shyly smiling back.
His two lawyers rose to greet her, and Beth shook their outstretched hands. She’d wanted to look respectable today; she’d worn her hair back in a tidy chignon, a dark clean business suit, and a light sheen of makeup.
She had never felt so self-conscious and wondered if he approved.
Dismissing his assistant, Landon hauled out a chair for Beth and huskily said, “Sit.”
She sat.
She tugged her skirt down to her knees as the men settled around the table. One began distributing a thick file around. The prenup, she hoped. So they could get this circus started.
“All right, ma’am, if you’ll kindly open the document in your hands. Mr. Gage has…”
Landon’s sour-faced, white-haired lawyer trailed off in consternation when Beth flipped the document open to the last page and asked, “Do any of you have a pen?”
Two pens appeared in her immediate line of vision.
She took the blue one. Landon’s chair squeaked as he leaned back; he watched her with the intensity of a diving hawk. His brow creased in displeasure when she set pen to paper.
“Read it, Beth,” he said.
She glanced up at him. God, he was an extremely magnetic man. He even looked grander once one knew about his reputation, but that wasn’t what made her a little awestruck. It was the air of suppressed energy about him, his relaxed posture only a guise, for she could sense the latent tension in him, his hard-bitten strength. She’d tasted it in his lips.
Those lips. Stubborn and closed like the man. She’d shivered all night pretending he’d but for a second, a millisecond, opened them and let her taste all that anger and strength he so tightly reined in.