The Hostage Bride

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright © 1981 by Janet Dailey
Cover art copyright © 1981 Robert Maguire

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information address Simon & Schuster Inc.,
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

Originally published by Silhouette Books, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

ISBN 978-1-4391-8915-3
eISBN 978-1-4391-8915-3

First Pocket Books printing September 1984

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POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Printed in the U.S.A.

“Where Did You Get this Money?”

His savage tone made Tamara look over her shoulder. He was standing by the coffee table, holding her purse in one hand and bills in the other.

“What are you doing in my purse? You have no right to go through my things!”

“I want to know how you came by this money! And don’t lie to me, because I saw you in that hotel this afternoon! I wondered what you were doing for money, and this afternoon gave me a pretty good idea!”

“I earned it!” Tamara flared.

His nostrils widened to drink in an angry breath as his mouth curled in a sneer. “I’ll just bet you did!”

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The Rogue

“Is something wrong, Tamara?” Mr. Stein looked at her anxiously through the tinted lenses of his glasses.

“No.” Tamara James shook her head in quick denial even though her world was spinning dizzily. If she hadn’t been sitting down when he’d made his announcement, her legs wouldn’t have supported her. As it was, her pale complexion had grown even paler from shock. “It’s just … such a surprise. You never mentioned that you were considering selling the company. You didn’t so much as even hint that …” Her voice trailed off—she was worried that her horrified astonishment might make him suspicious.

“I used the wrong word. It’s actually being classified as a merger. It isn’t even official yet—and won’t be until the final papers are signed,” her employer explained. “Naturally Rutledge wants it kept hush-hush until that
time. You know how the stock speculators would leap on any news related to Taylor Business Machines.”

“When … when will that be?” Tamara tried to get a grip on herself and respond with her usual calm efficiency.

“When will what be?” The short, thin man frowned absently at the question, his keenly intelligent mind having already dismissed any subject that was clear to him.

“When will the final papers be signed? How soon before Taylor takes over?” In her mind she was wondering how long she would have.

“The contract agreement is being finalized now by the attorneys. All the terms have been agreed on, so it’s only a matter of taking care of a few minor details. I imagine it will be within the month.” Mr. Stein shrugged, as if the exact date was unimportant.

Within the month. The phrase crashed through her mind with the force of a deathblow. Tamara felt sick to her stomach, a nauseous pain hammering at her head. She glanced at the account sheets and ledger books on her desk, avoiding eye contact with her boss so he wouldn’t see the stricken look of frantic desperation in her blue eyes.

“I wish you had mentioned it before.” Her weak response was barely more than a whisper.

“Rutledge asked me to wait until we had ironed out the terms. He didn’t want a lot of premature rumors flying around, and I agreed. Now that the merger is a certainty, I explained to him that I had to inform my key employees,
like yourself. After all, we are going to have to have a final audit of the books to close out Signet Machines as a separate entity and begin the change-over in reporting.” He made it all sound very matter of course, which to him it was.

“Will this … Mr. Rutledge be doing the final audit?” Tamara asked, swallowing the sickening rush of fear.

“Gracious, no!” Mr. Stein laughed in hearty amusement. “Bickford Rutledge is the president of Taylor Business Machines. He’s the son of the founder’s daughter, Alisha Taylor Rutledge. No, the final audit will be done by you, the same way it always has. Naturally someone from his accounting staff will assist you in transferring everything to their system and aid you in the audit.”

“I see,” Tamara murmured, but she killed the foolish hope that her secret might remain hidden.

Her less than enthusiastic response to his announcement kept nagging at him. “Something is bothering you, Miss James. What is it?”

She took a deep breath, her gaze making several ricocheting attempts to meet his concerned look. She had to tell him. From Harold Stein she was assured of obtaining understanding, but the impersonal machinations of a big corporation wouldn’t be receptive to her explanations.

“I am … concerned about this merger,” Tamara admitted, and removed the pencil from the sleek, platinum strands of her hair near her ear. Her fingers fidgeted with it as she tried to
find the precise words to explain her situation. “You know how ill my mother is, and—”

“Ah,” he interrupted in sudden understanding. “You are concerned this will affect your position, aren’t you? You needn’t be, Miss James. Rutledge has assured me there aren’t going to be any drastic changes. Part of the terms of the agreement is that Taylor will maintain any employee who has been with me for more than four years and keep them for at least a year. So you need have no fear that you will be discharged, Miss James. I have praised your efficiency and loyalty, stressed how very conscientious you have been in your work, and made them aware of your flawless work record. Rutledge indicated to me that there would be no change in your position or salary. If anything, your benefits will be increased, since you will be working for a large corporation.”

His praise wasn’t reassuring because he didn’t have all the facts. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Stein,” Tamara began, but got no farther.

“Kind?” He scoffed at her adjective. “It’s the least I could do after all the invaluable support you have given me. You don’t realize what a very vital part you play in this company. I don’t know how I would have coped after my brother died if you hadn’t shouldered the responsibility of this department.”

“Thank you, but I—”

He interrupted her with a heavy sigh. “We both know, Miss James, that my brother was the businessman, not me. I have no skill whatsoever
when it comes to managing a company. I can barely organize myself, let alone a half dozen departments and their staffs. I knew it when Art died, but after a year and a half of supposedly being in charge, I’m convinced that the company is only suffering under my leadership.”

“Every employee has enormous respect for you,” Tamara insisted, because it was the truth. “You are a genius.”

“In my field”—he qualified her statement—“and my field isn’t management. I belong in the back room, tinkering with the machines and testing innovative devices. As soon as Rutledge signs the papers, that’s where I’ll be. He admitted that the main reason they are buying the company is to obtain the patents. Naturally, it will be another expansion for them, but my patents were the key,” Harold Stein declared without false modesty.

Tamara moistened her lips nervously. With each second that passed, it was becoming more and more difficult to tell him her situation.

“I don’t think I can explain to you how relieved I am because of this merger,” her employer continued. “It’s an answer to my prayers. You know that I considered simply closing the doors after Art died. But I realized how selfish that was. I wanted to play with my machines, not run a business. But I couldn’t think of just myself. There were all these people who would be out of work. My conscience couldn’t tolerate the guilt of depriving so many people, like yourself, of a job. Merging with Taylor Machines, I not only
have what I want, but your jobs are guaranteed too. It’s a blessing, Miss James, truly a blessing.”

“It must seem so.” To him, but not to her. The buzz of the intercom interrupted Tamara. She answered it and glanced at her employer. “It’s your secretary, Mrs. Danby. You have a long-distance call.”

He grimaced and sighed, “I’ll be glad when somebody takes over for me. Tell Danby I’ll be right there.” With short, harried strides, he left her office while Tamara relayed the message to his secretary.

When she’d hung up the phone, her hand spread protectively over a ledger book. She had known for a year that Harold Stein disliked running the company, but as head of the accounting department, Tamara had always expected that she would be consulted if he ever contemplated selling the firm. She never once suspected that a company such as Taylor Business Machines would approach him with a merger offer. Signet Machines was a lightweight firm in the field of office equipment. But she had overlooked the patents—those valuable patents.

Looking back on some of her employer’s requests for information these last couple of months, Tamara could see the motive behind some of them. At the time she had thought his requests unusual, but she had blamed them on his inexperience—asking for information he wouldn’t need in the course of everyday business.

If Taylor Business Machines was taking over in less than a month, she was positive some of their executives and staff would be taking an active part in the company before that. She had been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t seen the warning signs. With more time, she could have taken steps to alter the situation. What chance did she have of doing it now? None. Maybe the discrepancy in the ledgers wouldn’t be noticed. Or maybe if she explained what had happened to the new owners, they would understand. After all, there hadn’t been any criminal intent involved.

Tamara gathered up the black ledger book and carried it to the fireproof cabinet to lock it safely inside. She had just closed the door and was turning the key when a pair of arms curved around her waist from behind and a mouth began nuzzling the slender length of her neck.

“It’s almost quitting time, lover,” a voice murmured. “Why don’t you let me take you away from all this.”

Tamara stiffened in the embrace, recognizing the voice, the insolent exploration of that mouth, and the masculine feel of the body pressed against hers. She pried apart the arms crossed in front of her and stepped coolly away.