Heart of Stone

Chapter Two

S he refused to be nervous.

Finally, Tara thought as she paced the confines of the elegant lawyer’s office located in what used to be a Savannah town house, she was going to meet the buyer who’d been playing cat and mouse with her over the land Chad had left her. Finally, she was going to get the price she had named, the only price she would accept for the seventy-five acres of land that was now a prime piece of real estate.

And finally, she was going to get the face-to-face meeting she had requested with the buyer as part of the stipulation for the sale. Tara had to be sure that she was doing the right thing by selling off the land that rightfully belonged to her children. She had to see this mystery man in person, to look him in the eye, to know that she wasn’t selling out.

Whoever he was, he wanted this land badly. They’d been negotiating since the day she’d grudgingly decided to put the land on the market. Tara knew the buyer, who was hiding behind some massive corporate logo, wanted the land for the least amount of money possible, but she also knew what the land was worth. Situated between the Savannah River and a small inland bay, this parcel was well suited to an upscale subdivision and shopping center. If developed, it had the potential to generate millions of dollars, which was why she had wrestled with letting it go.

But Tara didn’t have near the kind of capital to develop the land. That would take a lot of money, and right now she didn’t have it, and she was too in debt to borrow more. What little bit she had received from Chad’s life insurance was almost entirely gone. No, what she wanted, what she needed now, was enough money to get her out of debt and set up college funds for her girls.

“That’s all I ask, Lord,” she said, still unfamiliar with trying to pray even though she’d been doing a lot of that lately, thanks to Rock and Ana. “I only ask that my children be taken care of. I can handle the rest.”

The same way she’d been handling things since Chad had died.

The door of the office opened, causing Tara to whirl around. A petite, redheaded secretary in a striped suit came strutting into the room, her smile practiced and calm. “They’re on their way,” the woman said. “Would you like anything to drink? Some coffee maybe?”

“No, I’m fine,” Tara replied, trying to muster her own smile. Her nerves felt like ship rigging pulled too tight, but she refused to let that show.

The redhead straightened a few files, then smiled again. “Let me know if you need anything, Mrs. Parnell. My name is Brandy.”

“Thanks, Brandy.” Tara watched the woman leave, then sank down into a staid burgundy leather armchair, her gaze moving over the busy Savannah street just outside the tall window. Tourists mingled with businesspeople in the tree-shaded square across the cobblestone street, making Tara think she did need something after all.

What she needed was a long vacation from all the worry and stress of juggling the many financial problems Chad had left her with. What she needed was some way of lifting this tremendous guilt off her shoulders. At least her parents were staying with her and the girls for a while, now that the wedding was over and she had brought her family back to their house in Savannah. Her mom and dad loved the girls and wanted to spend time with them before school started in a few weeks. But in spite of having her folks close, Tara still felt so alone.

“Turn to God,” Rock had told her after she’d blurted out the truth to him just last week. “Turn to the Lord, Tara. Give some of it over to Him. I’m telling you, it will help you get through this.”

Dear Rock. He couldn’t even tell Ana about Tara’s troubles, since she’d told them to him as her minister. He had to keep that information confidential. Tara had needlessly begged him to do so, but he had assured he wouldn’t break her confidence. He’d also urged her to talk to her sister. But Tara didn’t want to worry Ana with her problems, not now when Ana had at last found happiness with Rock. Not now, when Ana had just opened her new tea room to an immediate success. Thank goodness that investment was solid, at least. Tara had managed to loan Ana that little bit of money just before Chad’s death, just before the dam had burst on her finances. She didn’t want Ana worrying about paying her back right now.

She’d do all the worrying. Turn to God.

“I’m trying, Rock,” she whispered now, her fear so close she could almost taste it. This fear was born of hurt and pain, after finding out her husband had pretty much left her with nothing. It was a feeling of being helpless, of knowing she’d let Chad struggle with the finances all those years while she kept on pretending things were all right between them. She’d busied herself with work and redecorating, endless shopping, with keeping the girls active, with social responsibilities, just to hide her pain. When one charge card ran out, Chad had simply handed her another one. She never questioned him. He’d fixed it. He’d taken care of things.

Well, you didn’t do that, did you, Chad? You didn’t really take care of anything. And neither did I. And now, her children would have to pay for their parents’ mistakes.

Now, Tara was left to deal with the debt collectors. And the shame. Lowering her head into her hands, she said out loud, “Oh, Chad, where did we go wrong?”

“You went wrong by trusting your husband in the first place.”

Tara lifted her head, the familiarity of that voice causing the nerves she’d kept at bay to go into a spinning whirl of emotion. “You,” she said as she sat there, unable to push out of the chair. “You,” she repeated, realization dawning on her like a stormy sunrise.

“Me.”

Stone Dempsey walked into the room and threw his briefcase on the mahogany table with the smug air of someone who’d just won the lottery. He was followed by Brandy and an entourage of lawyers and accountants, which only made Tara sickeningly aware of how she must look, slumped in the chair in utter defeat.

Well, she wasn’t defeated yet. She had something Stone Dempsey wanted. And now that she knew who was behind the bid to buy her precious land, she wouldn’t sell it so easily. Not until she was sure she was doing the right thing for her girls.

Rising up, she adjusted her white linen suit and looked across the conference table at him. “You could have told me yesterday at the wedding. You could have given me that small courtesy.”

He calmly placed both hands on the table, then stared across at her, making her heart skip. “What, and spoil the happy occasion? I didn’t want to do that.” His harsh, unyielding gaze moved over her face, then he added, “And besides, as you so graciously pointed out, I probably won’t stick around long enough to worry you. So what’s the point?”

Anger made her look him straight in the eye. “The point is—Mr. Dempsey—that for months now I’ve been trying to sell my land, and for months now someone, somewhere has managed to squelch every other offer that’s been made. That same someone, who refused to be identified, I might add, doesn’t want to give me a fair amount for my land, but he sure doesn’t want anyone else to get it, either.” Taking a calming breath, she leaned across the table, the fire inside her belly giving her the much needed fuel to tell him exactly what she thought of his underhanded tactics. “The point is—you’ve been evasive and elusive, teasing me with promises all this time so I wouldn’t sell the land to someone else, but never really giving me a firm answer regarding my asking price. I don’t appreciate it, but there it is.” Lifting away, she stood back, her eyes locking with his. “And I don’t think I like you, but here you stand.” She shot him a look she hoped showed her disdain. “Maybe your family was right about you, after all.”

Tara realized her mistake the minute the words shot out of her mouth. Stone didn’t move a muscle, but she saw the twitching in his jaw, saw the flicker of acknowledged pain in the shattered reflection of his eyes before they became as glassy as a broken mirror.

She wished she hadn’t mentioned his family.

“Leave us, please,” he said with a wave of his hand to the stunned group still gathered at the open double doors.

An older, white-haired man wearing a dark suit spoke up. Tara recognized him as the man she’d been doing business with up to now, the go-between, Griffin Smith. “Stone, I don’t think—”

“I said leave me alone with Mrs. Parnell, Griffin,” Stone replied, his firm, soft-spoken tone leaving no room for arguments.

The room cleared quickly. Brandy gave them a wide-eyed look, then discreetly closed the door.

And then they were left, staring across the table at each other.

Refusing to be intimidated by a man who had deliberately tricked her, Tara once again put her hands down on the cool smooth-surfaced table, then stared across at him, wary, half expecting him to lunge at her.

Stone did the same, his palms pushing into the polished wood as he stared at her. “I tried to warn you,” he said, the whisper of the words so low, Tara had to lean even closer to hear him.

“You didn’t warn me about this,” she said, amazed that he could be serious. “You didn’t even bother mentioning this.”

“I told you, I didn’t want to interfere with the wedding.”

“Afraid I’d burst into a fit of tears and make a scene?”

He shook his head. “No. I stayed quiet out of respect for your sister.”

That made her back off. But not much. “That was very considerate of you.” Turning her head, her thick hair falling across her face, she said, “Did you come to the wedding to purposely check me out?”

He stared at her hair for a minute, making her wish she could shove it away, then shook his head. “No. I didn’t know who you were until you told me your name.”

She let that settle, then asked, “Well, why didn’t you say something, then? Why didn’t you tell me who you were? We were away from everyone. You could have explained.”

He stepped back, then crossed his arms over his lightweight gray wool suit. “Maybe I was too busy enjoying…getting to know you.”

Tara laughed. “Oh, please. That dripping charm might work on socialites, but it won’t work on me. You realized who I was and you didn’t do anything about it. You probably even figured out what my phone call was about. Guess that gave you a good laugh.”

“Did you see me laughing? Am I laughing right now?”

“No,” she said, the honest intensity in his eyes making her decide to be truthful herself. “I don’t think you’re the laughing type. Too busy nurturing that chip on your shoulder.”

“You think you have me figured out, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen your kind before.”

“Meaning, your husband?”

Remembering his words as he entered the room, she asked, “And just what would you know about my husband?”

Stone opened the leather briefcase he’d brought into the room, then tossed a heavy manila file across the table at her. “I know he owed me money. I know he owed lots of people money. And I also know that you’ve been frantically trying to hold several of those people off while you work on this land deal. So why don’t you do us both a favor and agree to my price. It’s a fair market price for that swamp.”

Tara didn’t know how to define the anger and hurt coursing through her system. She wanted to direct it at Chad, but he was dead. So she sent it toward Stone, who was very much alive. “Chad owes you?”

“We had some dealings through my friend Griffin, yes.” He shrugged. “Savannah’s business community is close-knit. And your husband was a player. Or at least, he was until he let things get out of hand.”

Tara grabbed the file, glanced at the first few documents, then carefully closed it and placed it back on the table. It was all there. All the gory details of the rise and fall of Chad Parnell.

Her heart dropped to her feet as her anger turned into dread. If Chad owed Stone money, then she’d have to practically give him the land. Besides, if she didn’t sell it soon, the bank and the creditors would probably seize it anyway. That realization made her sick to her stomach. She leaned on the table again, but this time it was strictly for physical support. “How much?”

Stone stared at her, his grim expression changing to one of concern before his face became blank. “That’s not important,” he said at last. “I’ll absorb that in exchange for the land—at the same price I’ve already quoted you.”

Tara knew he was playing games with her, banking on her emotional turmoil to steal her land away. “That’s awfully generous of you, considering you just called it swampland.”

“Part of it is swamp,” he said, reverting back to business with a smooth swipe of his hand through his too long hair. “We’ll have to haul in dirt and rock, build restraining walls, sea walls. We’ll have to build up the foundation, make sure we don’t build half-a-million dollar homes in a flood zone. That’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

“But you still want the land?”

He gave her a long, appraising look. “Yes, I still want the land.”

“Why have I never heard of you? Why didn’t Chad ever mention you?”

He shrugged again. “Your husband and I never actually met each other. Griffin Smith, who I believe you’ve been working with, acted on my behalf with your husband. I prefer working as a consultant for other companies, like a troubleshooter, behind the scenes.”

“So you can use underhanded tactics?”

He didn’t even flinch. “I use wise business tactics. I advise people on how to buy and sell vast amounts of property, and I do the same myself. That’s how your husband found me—he needed to unload a few buildings, some warehouses out on the river.”

Tara knew about that property—she’d already spent part of that money, too, to pay off some of the charge cards.

“And so you graciously helped him, for a small fee?”

“Actually, it was a rather large fee, which I’ve never collected.” He looked down then. “We sold the property right before he died, so I held off on collecting my cut. And look, I’m sorry—”

She cut him off with a hand in the air. She didn’t need his sympathy. “So that’s when you came gunning for me, right?” She had to wonder if he’d been watching her all along, and just waiting for the right time to strike.

“I knew of your situation, yes. Then I did some research.” He stopped, rubbed a hand down his chin while his eyes searched her face. “I didn’t know…about you—that you were Ana’s sister. I only knew Chad was married.” He waited a beat, then added, “Tara, I only see what’s on paper.”

Deciding that statement clearly summed him up, she inclined her head. “So you heard about the land, saw a good opportunity—on paper—then bided your time until you knew I couldn’t hold out any longer. Is that why you finally agreed to meet with me?”

He shifted, and sighed. “I agreed to meet with you because you were being stubborn. Griffin could have handled the contract, but you kept digging, wanting to know about the company trying to buy your land.”

“You mean Hidden Haven Development Company? Is that just a name you pulled out of a hat or does it have some sort of subliminal meaning?”

“No, it’s legitimate. A subsidiary of Stone Enterprises.”

“And you are Stone Enterprises, of course. That much I do know.”

He nodded. “Normally, I prefer to remain anonymous. It just makes things easier in the long run.”

She nodded. “Easier for you. That way you don’t have to face the people you’ve bullied and taken advantage of.”

“I take advantage of situations, not people,” he said, and she could see the fire of that conviction in his slate-colored eyes. He actually believed that baloney.

“Oh, good. I feel better already.”

“Look,” he said, impatience and irritation coloring his words. “Can we just get on with this? Do you want to sell me the property or not?”

Crossing her arms again, she asked in a defiant, split second decision, “What if I’ve changed my mind? What if I say the deal is off?”

And then, he did it. He pounced.

Pulling her across the table with a hand wrapped around her wrist, Stone brought Tara’s face close to his, his shimmering eyes moving over her hair and lips. “Oh, no, darling. It doesn’t quite work that way. Because you see, now, I want much more than that land, Tara.”

“You’re going to have to explain that,” she said, her face inches from his. “What else could you possibly want?”

Stone stared at the woman he was holding, his thoughts going back to yesterday, when he’d first met her. That particular encounter had kept him awake most of last night. He’d come so close to calling her in the middle of the night to prepare her, but around 3:00 a.m. had decided it wouldn’t matter. He’d probably never see Tara Parnell again after this sale was finalized.

If it was finalized. By the look in her cornflower-blue eyes, that might not be happening anytime soon.

But he wanted to see her again.

And what he wanted right now, right this very minute, was to kiss her. But Stone refrained from that particular need. He had to play this cool. He had to forget about how attracted he was to Tara Parnell and remember the real prize.

He wanted that land. And her. But he couldn’t tell her that, of course. Not yet, anyway.

“I want us to talk about it,” he said, hoping she would stick around long enough for that, at least. “We need to have a calm, rational discussion.”

She yanked her arm away, as if disgusted with him. “I am not calm and rational right now. And I want to get as far away from you as possible.”

He didn’t blame her. Stone knew he had her cornered. It was how he worked. He negotiated through his lawyers and managers, then he sat back and waited, always silent, always low-key, and always one step ahead of the rest of the pack. It drove people crazy, but it worked. But strangely, today’s victory didn’t bring him the usual rush of adrenaline he normally got when closing a deal. “I did try—”

Her finger in the air stopped him. “Do not tell me again how you tried to warn me. Nothing could have prepared me for this.”

“I’m willing to explain it to you,” he said, wishing he could explain his need for more money and power, his need to be successful at all costs. “If you sit down and let me bring my people back in, I can show you why this is a fair offer.”

She paced the floor, giving him ample time to enjoy the way her crisp suit fit her slender, petite body. He also enjoyed the way she tossed those thick, blond bangs out of her pretty eyes.

Except those eyes were now centered on him.

“Okay,” she said, the one word calm and quiet. “Get them back in here. Where do I sign?”

Her defeat floored Stone. Literally. He sank down in his own chair, ran a hand through his long bangs, then glanced up at her. “What? No fight? And to think, I was so looking forward to sparring with you.”

She turned then and he would never forget the look in her eyes. Forget disgust. She hated him. Stone could feel it to his very soul. And nothing had ever burned him so badly.

“I don’t have any fight left,” she said, her words devoid of any emotion. “I have to consider my children.” She turned away again.

Don’t let her cry, Stone silently pleaded. Although he wasn’t sure to whom or what he was pleading.

But she didn’t cry. She just wrapped her arms against her stomach, as if to ward off being sick, then turned to face him. “Since you know so very much about my late husband, and me, too, for that matter, Mr. Dempsey, then you probably know that I can’t hold out any longer. I’ve used up most of my assets to pay off the credit cards and the other bills. I’ve used some of the life insurance to make the house payment, and while I’m trying to sell the house, I still need to buy groceries and clothes for three growing girls, not to mention school supplies and health insurance, so I’ve sold off everything I could to have some sort of cash flow. But soon that will be dried up, too. And my salary, as nice and cushy as it might seem, won’t begin to cover the debts my husband left because my company has threatened downsizing and I won’t be getting a raise anytime soon.

“So, you see, I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of playing games. I need the money you’re willing to pay for that land, even though we both know it’s worth more than the price you’ve quoted me. And I need it now. Today.” She leaned over the table again, then grabbed a pen, her hand steady in spite of the emotion cresting in her voice. “So, call the lawyers and accountants back in and show me where to sign. I want to get this over with.”

Something inside Stone changed. It was a subtle shifting, much like sand flowing through a sieve. It was just a nudge of doubt and regret, coupled with admiration for her spunk and strength, but it pushed through enough to scare him to death. He couldn’t go soft. Not now. Not after he’d been working this deal for months.

But he did go soft. Goodness, he wasn’t such an ogre that he’d cause a woman’s children to go hungry. Was he?

“Look, Tara, we don’t have to do this today.”

It was her turn to pounce. Tara lunged across the table at him, her blue eyes bright with tears she wouldn’t shed, her expression full of loathing and rage. “Oh, yes, we do have to do this today. Because I will not allow you to continue to humiliate or goad me. You’ve won, Mr. Dempsey—”

“I’m Stone. Call me Stone, please.”

She gave the suggestion some thought. “Okay, then, Stone. You’ve won. You can have the land, as long as I never have to see you again. I’ll deal with your middleman, and anybody else who wants to do your dirty work, but don’t you ever show your face around me again. That has to be part of the deal.”