False Family. Mary Wilson Anne

different, more dangerous. He’s greedy like the others, but he’s got brains. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, and he doesn’t worry about the consequences.”

      The words sounded strangely similar to what Tony had said about Saxon. “What does he want?”

      “He’s been involved in some of my businesses for ten years, and he’s here to talk me into letting him buy me out.” He exhaled. “Or maybe he wants me to put him in my will so he gets control of my shares when I die. One way or the other, he wants control of the businesses, come hell or high water.”

      She was uneasy about underestimating Tony, about thinking he could be easily deceived. The man could look at someone as if he could see into their soul, and if she was going to lie to him, she’d have to be very convincing. “Can he get control?”

      “He’s got the brains and a strong instinct of when to go for the kill, but he’s up against me. He only gets it if I say he does.”

      She could tell this man enjoyed that power. “So, you’ll tell all of them you found an heir and they’re out of luck?” she asked, her tea growing tepid as she listened with morbid fascination to the man’s twisted plans.

      “Exactly. I want to throw a monkey wrench into their plans and get them off my back. If they think I found a long-lost daughter, the product of my foolish liaison years ago, maybe they’ll leave me alone for a while.” He paused, then added, “Maybe it will bring out the true colors in all of them. All the better for me to make a decision.”

      Mallory sat forward. In a distorted way, this meeting was like a scenario that had gone through her mind over and over again through the years. The moment in which she would find the man who’d walked out on her mother, that he would admit he was her father and would hold out his arms to welcome her into his family.

      That was fantasy, a self-delusional lie. Yet she couldn’t help but think that if Saxon Mills really was her father, she would be just as apt to walk out and keep going. He clearly liked people to dance to his tune. He played with people, manipulating them for his own purposes. He didn’t even come close to any idea she had of what a father should be.

      “That’s the bare bones of the plan,” Saxon said. “Now, tell me what you think about it.”

      “I don’t know what to think. I suppose you must feel your reasons are compelling for you to go to all this trouble.”

      “Yes, they are compelling. Will you do it?”

      The fire crackled and popped, and Mallory could hear the storm beating against the windows behind the heavy velvet drapes, but she never took her eyes off Saxon Mills. No matter what his motives were for this deception, the role was simple. She knew she could do it. She didn’t have to like him, or even approve of what he was doing. All she had to do was keep up her part of the agreement and leave in two weeks with enough money to keep her going for a while.

      “Well?” he prodded, and she could hear the tinge of impatience in his voice.

      She made an instant decision. “I’ll do it.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      “Excellent,” Saxon murmured, then levered himself out of his chair and crossed to the bed. “Remember, outside the walls of this room, you are in character, and you stay that way. No talking about any of this, not even to me, unless we’re in here.” He looked back at her, his hand hovering over the raised nightstand. “You’re my daughter. I’m your father…unless we’re in here. Understood?”

      “Yes.”

      He pressed a button on the nightstand, then turned back to Mallory. “I’ll have Myra take you to your room now.”

      She stood. “Don’t you need to tell me more about all these people I’m supposed to be deceiving?”

      “Why? You just came here tonight and found out you’re my daughter. You wouldn’t know much about me, and even less about my family and acquaintances.”

      “What if they ask questions about my life? What do you want me to tell them?”

      “Tell them the truth as much as you can. Tell them you work as a waitress, that you live alone, that you don’t have any other family.”

      She knew her jaw must have dropped a bit. “You had me checked out, didn’t you?”

      “I had to. I know your mother died from pneumonia when you were five, and you were in various foster homes until you were old enough to escape the system and go out on your own. You have two years of college as a drama major, and you’ve worked as a waitress to help support yourself so you can act.” He ticked off her life with an ease that shocked her. “You’ve had roommates, but you’ve lived alone for the past six months. You’re twenty-eight years old.”

      “All right. I get the idea.” She looked at the photo that was still facedown on the table. “What about her…Kate? What do I tell them about her, since she’s supposed to have been my mother?”

      “Tell them the truth about your mother, except for the fact that your mother wasn’t Kate. Tell them what you remember, what she was like, and leave it at that. And she died in Europe.”

      “My mother never even made it out of California as far as I know, let alone Europe.”

      He waved that aside with a sharp jab of his hand. “Then don’t talk about her death. As a rule of thumb, stick to the truth as much as possible, and when you need to add details for authenticity, play it by ear. Your own clothes will be fine most of the time, but there are a few things in your room for you to wear when you need to be more formal. There are riding clothes, just in case you want to ride when this storm is gone.”

      It was a bit unnerving to think someone had purchased clothes for her, but she knew that her casual jeans and sweaters weren’t exactly a full wardrobe. “How do you want me to play this part?”