The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(49)

“Drop it, sister. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. I must go…and explain. Though I don’t know how. And why does she think…Oh, perhaps I do know how she got that impression.”

“Don’t bother apologizing. She won’t believe anything you say because you have absolutely no credibility when it comes to things like this.” Amelia took a deep breath and seemed to deflate before his eyes. Which was perfect. “Darling, just forget about it. The two of them never would have lasted anyway.”

Without a sound, the butler came up behind Amelia. “Excuse me, the phone is for you. A Mr. Stefan Reichter. He said he’s returning your call from last night?”

Amelia blanched. “I…. I’ll take it in my room. Thank you.”

As his sister and the butler left, Richard stared at the front of the mansion. While he thought about Spike and Madeline and trusts and money, he noted absently that the boxwood on the right seemed a little thin.

That bush needed to be ripped out and replaced.

Following that thought, he settled on an idea. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t his best. And it was risky. But it was the only thing he had. And sometimes, as in chess, you had to play the moves you were given even if they were not as strong as you wished they were.

*

Spike was tucking a black T-shirt into his jeans when the door opened behind him without a knock.

Richard entered and shut the two of them in the room together. As Spike’s warning instincts went off, he kept cool.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Richard said.

Spike casually slipped his feet into his boots. “Why?”

“Because you were a guest of Madeline’s and she’s no longer on the premises.”

Spike narrowed his eyes, trusting the man about as much as a three-dollar bill. With a hole in the middle. “When did she go?”

“Just now.” Richard went over to one of the windows and pulled back the heavy drapery. “See for yourself. The Viper’s gone. And before you ask why, I’ll explain. You see, I told her about you.”

“What do you mean you told her about me?”

Richard’s eyes were steady. Rock steady. “Your prison record, Michael Moriarty. The five and a half years you did for beating a man to death. His name was Robert Conrad. You killed him by—”

“Why the hell would you tell Mad all that?”

“You need to ask? Don’t you know how her mother died? Or was that why you never said anything?”

With a horrible sense of bars locking him in, Spike asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Violent felons sometimes kill innocent bystanders. You didn’t happen to, you just took out the one man, but not all murderers have your discretion. Madeline’s mother wasn’t so lucky when she was killed.” As Spike recoiled, Richard went on. “Did you know that Madeline was four at the time her mother died? Old enough to have memories. Old enough to remember how it felt to be told her mother was dead. And to hate and fear the kind of violent man who took her away.”

Spike shut down completely. If Mad’s mother had died in the course of a felony, of course she would flee. Especially because it looked like he’d hidden the facts from her.

Richard smiled a little. “Ah, yes. So you can see why she wouldn’t want to be around you. Especially because you didn’t tell her yourself. The association was too painful, but the lying by omission…not very heroic of you, was it? And there’s no way to apologize for all that. Not now that it came out as it did. She never wants to see you again.”

Spike felt like he was in a nightmare. God damn it, Sean should have told him about Mad’s mother. Why had the guy sent him down here to help her when he knew the horrible parallels?

“Spike? I mean, Michael?” Richard stepped in front of him. “I’d like to offer you a deal here.”

Spike trained his eyes on the other man. “Deal?”

“I’ll fund your new restaurant with Nate Walker provided you stay away from Madeline. I mean, you can understand why I have to protect my sister from you, given your past. But I’m also a businessman and there’s no reason to get totally wrapped up in emotions. Just keep away from her and I’ll take care of you.”

Spike reacted without thinking. He met Richard chest to chest and forced him up against the wall. Then he dropped his head so their noses were almost touching. As he did, he could practically smell the fear that rolling off the other man.

Spike bared his teeth. “You are going to get the hell out of this room right now. And I am going to pack up and leave. That way, no one goes to the emergency room with broken bones. You understand me?”

Richard’s voice was high. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I doubt that. Now get out of my sight.”

The man was out the door in a split second.

While Spike got his stuff together, his hands were shaking so badly, he dropped his wallet. As he picked it up off the floor, he thought of that first night when he’d come in and realized someone had been through his stuff. Richard. Of course. The guy had no doubt taken Spike’s social security number and address and run them through the usual databases.

Then the bastard had gone to Mad.

Spike left the room with his duffel, jogged downstairs and went out to the Harley. It took no time at all to store his clothes in the saddlebags and mount up. When he put his helmet on, he cursed because as he pulled it down over his head, he smelled Mad’s shampoo.