“If I ever get my hands on that law clerk,” Travis muttered.
“He is no doubt long gone already,” Rico said just as tightly. “Probably counting his money.”
Julie didn’t care where the little worm was. She just wanted to know what they were supposed to do next. She wanted to know that Travis and she were still in this together. Would he stick with her? Honor their bargain? Or would he want to dissolve this mess before anything else happened?
She really hoped not. Because if he walked away from their oh-so-new marriage right now, she’d be all alone facing a rabid media.
“Travis?” Julie finally found her voice and when she spoke, she captured his attention. “What happens now?”
Features tight, dark eyes glinting with an anger that colored his voice, he didn’t even look at her as he simply said, “We go home.”
“We?”
One dark eyebrow lifted as he turned a hard look on her. “You’d rather go alone?”
“No,” she said quickly. God, no. “I just didn’t—”
“We’re married, aren’t we?” he asked, giving her a smile that went nowhere near his eyes.
“Yes, we are,” she said, returning that cold smile with one of her own. They were married and even though it looked as though they were going to stay that way, at least for now, Julie felt a yawning distance open up between them.
And she didn’t have a single idea how to close it.
Rico had been right, of course. The minute the King jet landed at a private airstrip near Birkfield, reporters had crowded around Travis and Julie like jackals after a particularly tasty corpse.
And as ugly as that analogy was, it hadn’t gotten any better over the last week.
Leaning back in his desk chair, Travis clutched the telephone to his ear and listened distractedly to the Muzak especially designed to drive a man insane. He didn’t have the option of hanging up in frustration though. He had to talk to Thomas Henry and the man had been avoiding his calls for days now.
This time, Travis was determined to reach him.
Scowling, he sent a distracted glance around his study. The walls were a deep, dark red, and white crown molding ran around the circumference of the room just below the ceiling. Bookcases studded the walls along with paintings Travis had commissioned of the vineyards. He’d always seen this room as a sort of sanctuary. He locked himself in here to work and frequently sat in one of the oversized, black leather chairs to relax in front of the fire.
Today, though, relaxing wasn’t on the agenda.
“I’m sorry, Mr. King.” The elevator music stopped abruptly as a woman’s voice came over the line. “But Mr. Henry is still busy. Are you sure you want to hold? I can give him a message and ask him to return your call.”
Busy. Travis didn’t believe that for a second. Henry was dodging him. Damned successfully so far, too. Strange, but Travis had gotten married to improve his chances at a distribution deal. And yet, ever since he’d walked down the aisle with Julie, that elusive deal had drifted further and further out of reach.
Well, nobody stalled a King for long. And he’d be damned if he’d leave yet another message for Henry. Travis had already tried that approach twice. This time, he’d stay on the phone until the damn thing became attached to his ear if he had to. He didn’t give in, never surrendered, and Thomas Henry would damn well talk to him whether the man wanted to or not.
“Thanks,” he said, keeping his voice politely neutral. “I’ll hold.”
She sighed. “Very well.”
Instantly, the music was back and Travis was left with his own thoughts again. Not the most pleasant alternative lately. He and Julie had settled into a routine of sorts, but the easy camaraderie they’d experienced in Mexico had disappeared.
Granted, he hadn’t been the most approachable person over the last week. But Julie’d been just as distracted. What with reporters haunting their every step and the phone ringing nonstop, she was so on edge she jumped whenever he walked into the room. A part of him wanted to hold her, bury himself inside her and tuck the problems surrounding them into the background. But he couldn’t do that while another part of him still wondered if she wasn’t somehow involved in all of this.
Talking to his brothers hadn’t helped any.
He stared at the far wall, gaze fixed on a painting of the winery, but he wasn’t seeing the crisp colors or the subtle brush strokes. Instead, he thought back to the conversation he’d had with his brothers the night before.
“Our lawyers are working on Julie’s ex,” Adam had said.
“Can’t we have him arrested for something?” Jackson wanted to know.
“He hasn’t done anything illegal,” Travis responded. “Yet.”
Adam reminded him, “He blackmailed you.”
“Fine. He did. And if I admit to that, it’s just one more piece of news for the press,” Travis replied. “No thanks. I already feel like there are photographers hiding in the vines. I don’t need more of the same.”
“This mess is just getting worse.” Adam said.
“Really? Hadn’t noticed.” Travis’s wry tone seemed to irritate Adam further. “I asked you to look in to the guy’s past. Didn’t you find anything we can use to make him disappear?”
“No.” Adam said. “As far as we can tell, he’s never tried blackmail before.”
“Pity,” Jackson commented. “Since he seems to have a flair for it.”
“There’s got to be something. He’s playing this in the press as though he’s a wounded, discarded lover.”
“What does Julie have to say about all of this anyway?” Adam asked.
“What do you think she’s got to say?” Travis demanded softly. “She’s embarrassed and pissed off, just like me.”
“Is she?” Jackson asked quietly.
Travis stared at his younger brother and fought down the anger that seemed to have become a permanent part of him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I like Julie. A lot. I’m just thinking that all hell’s broken loose since you two decided to get married.”
“It is an interesting question,” Adam pointed out.
“You, too?” Travis had asked his older brother.
“Can you say you’re absolutely positive that Julie’s innocent?”
Could he? No. Was he going to admit that to his brothers and have to listen to their opinions? No. He ran his own life. And he’d deal with his marriage himself. He didn’t need a committee.