Seduction on His Terms Read online

  “Will you be okay?” she asked.

  Something warm brushed over the top of her hand, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. Had he touched her? By the time she looked down, Robert was straightening his cuffs. “Of course,” he said dismissively, as if it was impossible for him to be anything but perfectly fine. “I’m a Wyatt.”

  Then he was gone.

  Jeannie stared after him. This was bad. Before she could decide how worried about him she was going to be, her phone buzzed.

  It’s time! read Nicole’s message.

  “It’s time!” Jeannie shouted. The waiters cheered.

  Dr. Wyatt would have to wait. Jeannie’s new niece came first.

  Two

  Jeannie was back tonight.

  Robert hadn’t gone to Trenton’s, knowing she wouldn’t be there, and he felt the loss of their routine deeply. Instead, he’d spent a lot more time in the office, reviewing cases and getting caught up on paperwork and not thinking about Landon Wyatt or political campaigns.

  But finally, it was Monday and Jeannie would be waiting for him. On some level he found his desire to see her again worrisome. She was just a bartender who’d perfected a Manhattan. Anyone could mix a drink.

  But that was a lie and he knew it.

  He never should have touched her. But she’d stood there staring at him with her huge brown eyes, asking if he was going to be okay, like she cared. Not because he was the billionaire Dr. Robert Wyatt, but because he was Robert.

  That was what he’d missed this week. Just being... Robert.

  Lost in thought, he didn’t look at the screen of his phone before he answered it. “This is Wyatt.”

  “Bobby?”

  Robert froze, his hand on the elevator buttons. It couldn’t be...

  But no one else called him Bobby. “Mom?”

  “Hi, honey.” Cybil Wyatt’s voice sounded weak. It hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. “How have you been?”

  Almost three years had passed since he’d talked to his mother.

  He quickly retreated to his office. “Can you talk? Are you on speakerphone?”

  “Honey,” she went on, an extra waver in her voice. “You heard from Alexander, right?”

  That was a no, she couldn’t talk freely.

  Alexander was Landon’s assistant, always happy to do the older man’s bidding. “Yes. He said Landon wanted to run for governor.” A terrible idea on both a state level and a personal level.

  Robert knew the only reason Landon Wyatt wanted to be governor was because he’d discovered a way to personally enrich himself. He wasn’t content having politicians and lobbyists in his pocket. He always wanted more.

  “Your father wants you by his side.” The way she cleared her throat made Robert want to throw something. “We want you by our sides,” she corrected because the fiction that they were all one big happy family was a lie that had to be maintained at all costs, no matter what.

  “Are you on speaker?”

  She laughed lightly, a fake sound. “Of course not. All is forgiven, honey. We both know you didn’t mean it.”

  Hmm. If she wasn’t on speaker, she was probably sitting in Landon’s opulent office, where he was watching her through those cold, slitted eyes of his—the same eyes Robert saw in the mirror every damn morning—making sure Mom stuck to the script. “Let me help you, Mom. I can get you away from him.”

  “We’re having a gala to launch his campaign in two weeks.” Her voice cracked but she didn’t stop. “It’s at the Winston art gallery, right off the Magnificent Mile.”

  “I know it.”

  “It’d mean a lot to your father and me to see you there.”

  Robert didn’t doubt that his mother wanted to see him. But to Landon, this was nothing more than another way to exert control over Robert and he’d vowed never to give Landon that much power again—even if it cost him his relationship with his mother.

  “Tell me what I can do to help you, Mom.”

  There was a brief pause. “We’ve missed you, too.”

  Dammit. He didn’t want to pretend to be a happy family, not in private and most certainly not in public. But he knew Landon well enough to know that if he didn’t show, Mom would pay the price.

  Just like she always did.

  Robert couldn’t let that happen. Of all the things Landon Wyatt had done and would continue to do, dangling Cybil as bait to ensure Robert cooperated was one of the meanest.

  He had to fix this. “Think about what I said, okay? We’ll talk at the gallery.”

  She exhaled. “That’s wonderful, dear. It starts at seven but we’d like you to get there earlier. Your father wants to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

  Robert almost growled. Getting on the same page meant threats. Lots of them. “I’ll try. I have to make my rounds. But if I can get you away, will you come with me?” Because after what had happened last time...

  “Thank you, Bobby,” she said and he hoped like hell that was a yes. “I—we can’t wait to see you again.”

  “Me, too, Mom. Love you.”

  She didn’t say it back. The line went dead.

  Robert stared at nothing for a long time.

  This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. Landon was going to force Robert to do this—be this...this lie. He was going to make Robert stand next to him before crowds and cameras. He was going to expect Robert to give speeches of his own, no doubt full of bold-faced lies about Landon’s character and compassion. And if Robert didn’t...

  Would he ever see his mother again?

  Landon would do whatever he wanted, if Robert didn’t stop him. There had to be a way.

  You can do anything you want because you’re Dr. Robert freaking Wyatt, he heard Jeannie say.

  Maybe she was right.

  Now more than ever, he needed a drink.

  “Well?” he said in that silky voice of his.

  Once, Cybil had thought Landon Wyatt’s voice was the most seductive voice she’d ever heard.

  That had been a long time ago. So long ago that all she could remember was the pain of realizing she’d been seduced, all right. She could barely remember the time when she’d been a naive coed right out of college, swept away by the charming billionaire fifteen years her senior.

  She’d been paying for that mistake ever since. “He’s coming.”

  Landon notched an eyebrow—a warning.

  Cybil smiled graciously. “He’ll try to get there early, but he has rounds,” she went on, hoping Landon would dismiss her. Hearing Bobby’s voice again, the anger when he’d promised he could get her away from her husband of thirty-five years...

  God, she’d missed her son. Maybe this time would be different. Bobby had grown into a fine man, a brilliant surgeon. Landon hated that both because Bobby worked for a living and, Cybil suspected, because Landon knew Bobby was far smarter.

  If anyone could outthink Landon Wyatt, it’d be his own son.

  Something warm and light bloomed in her chest. With a start, she realized it was hope.

  What if there really was a way?

  But Landon would never let her go.

  A fact he reinforced when he stood and stroked a hand over her hair. Years of practice kept her from flinching at his touch. “I know you’ve missed him,” he murmured as if he hadn’t been the one keeping her from her son. His hand settled on the back of her neck and he began to squeeze. “So I know you’ll make sure he does what’s expected. Otherwise...”

  “Of course,” Cybil agreed, struggling as his grip tightened.

  Like she did every day, she thanked God Bobby had gotten away. If he were still trapped in this hell with her, she didn’t know how she’d bear it. But the knowledge that he was out there, saving children and living far from this—that kept her going. As long as her so
n was safe, she could endure.

  She looked up at the man she’d married and smiled because he expected her to act as if she enjoyed being with him. Maybe... Maybe she wouldn’t have to endure much longer.

  “Mr. Wyatt?” The sound of Alexander’s reedy voice cut through the office. “My apologies, but the campaign chairman is on line one.”

  “Now what?” he growled, abruptly letting her go.

  Cybil did not exhale in relief because he’d already forgotten she was here. She merely escaped while she could.

  She didn’t want Bobby to be drawn back into his father’s world, and the fact that Landon was using her to get their son to fall into line sickened her. But Bobby’s anger, his willingness to stand up to his father...

  No, maybe she wouldn’t have to endure this marriage much longer at all.

  She needed to be ready.

  Would Robert convince his mother to leave Landon?

  The last time, it’d gone...poorly.

  He needed a better plan this time.

  More than just hiding Cybil Wyatt, Robert needed to make sure Landon wouldn’t ever be in a position to track her down.

  His heart beat at a highly irregular pace. Last time he’d merely tried to hide his mother, in his own home, no less. He hadn’t had a contingency plan in place and without that plan, the whole rescue had been doomed to fail.

  This time would be different.

  Wyatts didn’t fail. They succeeded.

  He entered Trenton’s at five past eight. Thank God Jeannie was back tonight. She might not be able to offer assistance but she could at least tell him if New Zealand was a good idea or not. She might be the only person he knew who’d tell him the truth. Now all he had to do was find a way to ask.

  A soft, feminine voice purred, “Good evening, Dr. Wyatt. What can I get you?”

  His head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. The bar at Trenton’s was dimly lit, so it took a few moments for Robert to identify the speaker.

  The woman behind the bar was not Jeannie. This woman was shorter, with long light-colored hair piled on top of her head. Jeannie was almost tall enough that she could look Robert in the eye, with dark hair cropped close.

  “Where’s Jeannie?” he growled.

  It was Monday. She was supposed to be here.

  The woman behind the bar batted her eyes. “I’m Miranda. Jeannie’s on vacation. I’m more than happy to take care of you while she’s gone...”

  Robert glared at her. Dammit, Jeannie had said one week. She’d promised. And now he needed her and she wasn’t here.

  The pressure in his head was almost blinding. If he didn’t see Jeannie tonight—right now—he might do something they’d all regret.

  “Dr. Wyatt?”

  The world began to lose color at the edges, a numb gray washing everything flat.

  He needed to leave before he lost control.

  But he couldn’t because his mother had called him and there had to be a way to save her and he needed to see Jeannie.

  She was the only one who could bring color back to his world.

  “She’s not on vacation. Tell me where she is.” He leaned forward, struggling to keep his voice level. “Or else.”

  Miranda’s teasing pout fell away as she straightened and stepped back. “She’s not here,” she said, the purr gone from her voice.

  He wasn’t going to lash out. A Wyatt never lost control.

  So instead of giving in to the gray numbness and doing what Landon would do, Robert forced himself to adjust the cuffs on his bespoke suit, which gave him enough time to breathe and attempt to speak calmly.

  He studied Miranda. She held his gaze, but he could see her pulse beating at her throat. She was probably telling the truth.

  “I’d like to speak with the owner. Please.”

  The buzzing in his head became two discordant sounds. He could hear Landon snarling, Wyatts don’t ask, at the same time as he heard Jeannie say, in that husky voice of hers, There, was that so hard?

  When was the first time Jeannie had said that to him? He didn’t remember. All he remembered was that she was the first person who’d ever dared tease him.

  When he was sure he had himself back under control, he looked up. Miranda the substitute bartender wasn’t moving.

  “Now,” Robert snarled.

  With a jolt, she turned and fled.

  It felt wrong to sit in his seat if Jeannie wasn’t on the other side of the bar. Like this place wasn’t home anymore.

  Which was ridiculous because this was a bar where he spent maybe half an hour every night. It wasn’t his sprawling Gold Coast townhouse with million-dollar views of Lake Michigan. It wasn’t even the monstrosity of a mansion where he’d been raised by a succession of nannies. This was not home. This was just where Jeannie had been when he’d walked into this restaurant two years and ten months ago and sat down at this bar because he’d felt...lost.

  It had been thirty-four months since Jeannie had stood in front of him, listening while he struggled to get his thoughts in order because his mother had refused to stay with him and Landon had come for her. Everything in Robert’s carefully constructed world had gone gray, which had been good because then Robert didn’t have to feel anything. Anything but the overpowering need for the perfect drink.

  Sometimes, when Robert allowed himself to look back at that moment, he wondered if maybe Jeannie had been waiting patiently for him.

  Where the hell was she?

  Then it hit him. She’d said she had a family thing. She wasn’t here now.

  Something had gone wrong.

  The realization gave him an odd feeling, one he did not like. He liked it even less when Miranda the substitute bartender returned with a man that looked vaguely familiar.

  “Dr. Wyatt, it’s so good to see you, as always,” the man said, smiling in a way Robert didn’t trust. “I’m sorry there’s a problem. How can I correct things?”

  Robert was running out of patience. “Who are you?”

  “Julian Simmons.” He said it in a way that made it clear Robert was supposed to remember who he was. “I own Trenton’s. You’re one of our most valued customers, so if there’s a problem, I’m sure we can—”

  Robert cut the man off. “Where’s Jeannie?”

  Robert couldn’t tell in the dim light, but he thought Simmons might have gone a shade whiter. “Jeannie is taking some personal time.”

  Only a fool would think personal time and vacation time were the same thing. Robert was many things, but foolish wasn’t one of them. “Is she all right?”

  Simmons didn’t answer for another long beat.

  Something had happened; Robert knew it. Helplessness collided with an ever-increasing anger. He was not going to stand by while another woman was hurt. Not when he had the power to stop it.

  “Jeannie is fine,” Simmons finally said. “We’re hopeful that she will rejoin us in a few weeks. I know she’s your personal favorite, but Miranda is more than happy to serve you.”

  Both Miranda the substitute bartender and Simmons the restaurant owner recoiled before Robert realized he was snarling at them. “Tell me where she is. Now.”

  “Dr. Wyatt, I’m sorry but—”

  Before he was aware of what he was doing, Robert had reached across the bar and took hold of Simmons’s tie.

  Robert could hear Landon Wyatt shouting, No one says no to a Wyatt, in his mind.

  Or maybe he hadn’t heard the words. Maybe he’d said them out loud because Miranda squeaked in alarm.

  “You,” he said to the woman, “can go.”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice.

  “Dr. Wyatt,” Simmons said. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

  Belatedly, he realized he was probably not making the best argu
ment. Abruptly, he released Simmons’s tie. Robert realized he had overlooked the path of least resistance. Instead of allowing his temper to get the better of him, he should’ve started from a different negotiating position.

  “How much?”

  “What?” Simmons winced.

  “How much?” Robert repeated. “I have frightened you and your employees, which wasn’t my intent. I like coming here. I would like to return, once Jeannie is back in her position. I would like to...to make amends.”

  Which was as close as possible to apologizing without actually apologizing because Wyatts did not apologize.

  Ever.

  Simmons stared at him, mouth agape.

  “Shall we say...” Robert picked a number out of thin air. “Ten thousand?”

  “Dollars?” Simmons gasped.

  “Twenty thousand. Dollars,” he added for clarity’s sake. Everyone had a price, after all.

  Jeannie was in trouble and he had to help her. But to do that, he had to know where she was. If Simmons refused to take the bribe, Robert had other ways of tracking her down, but those would take more time. Time was one commodity he couldn’t buy.

  The buzzing in his head was so loud that it drowned out the hum of the restaurant. He gritted his teeth and blocked it out.

  Simmons pulled his pocket square out and dabbed at his forehead. “Do you realize how many laws you’re asking me to break?”

  “Do you realize how little I care?” Wyatt shot back.

  When it came to things like abuse or murder, Wyatt knew and respected the law. When it came to things like this? Well, he was a Wyatt. Money talked.

  Simmons knew it, too. “Do I have your word that you won’t hurt her?”

  “I won’t even touch her.” Not unless she wants me to.

  The thought crossed his mind before he was aware it was there, but he shook it away.

  Simmons seemed to deflate. “There was a family emergency.”

  The longer this man stood around hemming and hawing, the worse things could be for Jeannie. Belatedly, Robert realized he did not have twenty thousand dollars in cash on him. He placed a credit card on the bar. “Run it for whatever you want.”