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“I’m falling in love with you,” he said as he laid down next to her.
Scarlett knew it was a big step for him. She let his words fill her heart as he filled her body, and then she was lost in a vast ocean of love and desire, drowning in her own satisfaction.
“I have to be honest with you.”
Scarlett turned her naked body so she could look into Carter’s blue eyes. “Okay.”
“I am worried how you’ll feel after I’ve completely destroyed your father.”
“He might get the money for the house.” It seemed unlikely, since she had no clue how her father would accomplish such a miracle. “After he pays you what he owes you, your business is finished. I’m not going to hold a business deal against you.”
He shook his head. “It’s more than business, Scarlett. My dealings with Terini are very personal, and I won’t be satisfied until I’ve seen him reduced to the lowest point a man can reach.”
“But why?” She needed to know the truth. Why Carter’s family hated him so much.
“It’s not for you to know,” he said simply. “You must understand that I will do my best to ruin your father, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I won’t let anything interfere with my revenge, not even my growing feelings for you.”
“What if I don’t accept that?” asked Scarlett, raising her head proudly.
“There can be no future for us,” Carter answered baldly, but there was sorrow in his eyes.
Feeling pressured, Scarlett slid from the bed, taking the sheet with her. “I don’t know if I can stand by and watch you tear my father down. I love you, but unless I can understand this unreasonable hatred you harbor for him, I don’t see how I can condone it.”
“It’s not unreasonable.”
“Then please tell me why you hate him,” Scarlett begged, holding her clasped hands in front of her, momentarily forgetting the sheet as it pooled on the floor.
“It will serve no purpose for you to know.”
“I need time,” she whispered, turning away from him after retrieving the sheet.
“Of course,” he agreed distantly. Rising from the bed and grabbing his clothes he said, “I’ll leave you to think.”
Scarlett watched him go without speaking again. After the door closed behind him, she dropped the sheet and slid on a white terry cloth robe before dropping on the bed.
He was asking the impossible of her. How could he expect her to stand by and watch him destroy her father, while still loving him? How could he be so cruel to her as to pursue his campaign of revenge even though he knew how it would hurt her? Why was it so damned important to him? What terrible deed could her father have possibly done to warrant such anger and hatred?
Her thoughts was interrupted by another knock at her door, a knock too quiet to be Carter. “Come in,” she said wearily, and was surprised to see Lydia standing in her doorway, clutching a file to her chest. “What do you want?” she asked, puzzled.
Lydia closed the door behind her, engaging the lock, and for a moment Scarlett experienced déjà vu. “My brother has gone to the wine cellar to open a bottle of wine to drown his sorrows,” Lydia said stiffly. “It will be some time before he returns.”
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
Sighing impatiently, Lydia said, “I did not come to ask you to intercede with his drunken binge. He seldom indulges, and I see no harm in the occasional episode. I’ve come to tell you why he hates your father.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened, and she sat up completely, staring at Lydia as she stood over her. Pieces fell into place, and she said softly, “He doesn’t want you to tell me this, does he?”
“Of course not.”
“Then I don’t want to hear it,” Scarlett said, feeling as if her loyalty rested with Carter. He had his reasons, and she would respect his wishes.
“I’m going to tell you anyway. You have to know the truth.” Before Scarlett could interrupt her, she said, “Your father killed my husband and left Carter with the scars he bears today.”
“No,” Scarlett denied quickly. She’d inferred Lydia believed her father to be responsible for her husband’s death by her previous statements over the past few days, so her accusations came as no surprise. Scarlett dismissed them as the imaginings of a grief stricken widow. “I don’t believe you.”
Lydia’s face twisted. “Believe what you like,” she said with a shrug. “But I’m going to give you such a large dose of the truth that you will choke on it.
“Carter was a brilliant student, and he gravitated toward electronics in college. He has been hailed as a visionary in his field, though his presence is circumspect these days. Fresh out of university, he formed a partnership with his best friend, Justin, my husband. Together, they created Roche Electronics. They used Justin’s name for the company, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
