Terms of Surrender Read online

  Tanya, however, had been able to talk him into a lot more than changing the equipment. Hell, his father had changed his principal crop!

  At the thought of Tanya, David glanced at his watch and realized he was late for his meeting with her. Leaving the room, he started in the direction of the storage building she'd pointed out to him after breakfast that morning.

  A few minutes later, he walked into one of the large metal buildings that housed the equipment used on the plantation. "I'm sorry I'm late," he said by way of a greeting. "I got caught up in a telephone conference."

  His gaze ran over her, then came back to her face. Dressed in blue jeans and a soft knit sweater to ward off the morning chill, she looked at home, right down to her worn brown work boots. With her blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail and a clipboard in her hand, she'd apparently been at work awhile.

  "That's okay. I had some things to take care of while I was waiting," Tanya assured him, not really surprised. She hadn't expected him to make the plantation's operation a priority. Clearly, the business of his firm in Atlanta took precedence in his life. Well, that was okay with her. She didn't need David micromanaging every aspect of her work. Things would run more smoothly between them if he'd just let her continue to run the plantation without interference.

  "It really couldn't be helped," he insisted, feeling the need to justify his tardiness. His gaze wandered down her body. Her figure had changed over the years. Though still slim, her breasts were fuller, her hips nicely rounded. He shifted his attention to her perfectly shaped oval face, her pert nose and wide amber eyes. As she walked toward him, her body moved with a grace that seemed to contradict her poor upbringing.

  What was it about this woman that, after five years, he hadn't been able to get her out of his system? Apparently his father had seen something special in her, as well, or he wouldn't have asked David to take care of her. "But I'm all yours now."

  All yours.

  Tanya swallowed hard at the thought. Dressed in khaki-colored dress pants and a pale blue dress shirt that looked like they cost more than she'd spent on clothes in the last year, David was one very handsome man. Yet, there was little about him that reminded her of the young man she'd lost her heart to when she was seventeen.

  The past five years had been more than kind to him. His shoulders and chest had filled out with well-toned muscles. His face, more chiseled and angular, made him favor his father more than she realized. He was enough to turn any woman's head twice.

  But his piercing blue eyes drew her to him. There was an emptiness in them that she longed to fill, a sadness that she wanted so much to ease.

  "Tanya?"

  Realizing David was speaking to her, Tanya started. Getting her thoughts back on the business at hand, she said, "Um, all right. Let me show you around."

  As Tanya talked, David listened attentively, and he had to admit he was impressed with her thorough knowledge of the workings of the plantation and the equipment used to run it. Apparently she'd been telling the truth when she'd said she'd been in charge for some time.

  However, he was still stunned by Edward's decision to change crops. It was a decision that David just didn't understand. "What made my father decide to stop growing peanuts?" he asked as he examined the drill used to break the ground and seed it.

  Biting her lip, Tanya glanced briefly at him. Knowing her answer wouldn't make things between the two of them any smoother, she had to be honest. "Several years ago, I did a study on the production of peanuts in the state of Georgia and in other states where peanuts are main crops. Production costs were on the rise, and Cottonwood's profits had begun to slip."

  "That's part of the business, isn't it?" David reasoned, studying the apprehensive expression in her amber eyes, and wondering what caused it. "Supply and demand and all that."

  Tanya's brows wrinkled. "That's simplifying it quite a bit," she answered, her tone taut. "The future earnings of peanuts was looking bleak. Changes in government regulations have hurt peanut farmers tremendously. Many growers have had to make adjustments in their crops and a lot of independent farmers have gone under."

  "Was the plantation in danger of that?" David asked, realizing he'd inadvertently insulted her. That's what he got for letting his mind wander. If he hadn't been thinking about what was going on behind those expressive eyes, he wouldn't have said something so stupid.

  Obviously, he'd been away from the agriculture industry too long. Busy running his own business, he hadn't even thought about the peanut market.

  "I don't think it was that bad, but the plantation would never have been as profitable as it had in the past. Your father seemed worried. I began to research soybeans and pitched the idea of going into the soybean market to him." She gestured toward the door. "Do you want to take some time now to look over the accounts?"

  David nodded casually, but inside his chest ached. His father would never have accepted such an idea from him. He reminded himself that it wasn't Tanya's fault that he'd never gotten along with his father. "Why soybeans?" he asked, opening the door for her. She walked out and he followed.

  "The demand for soybeans has increased as people have become more health conscious. They're used for an array of foods, such as veggie burgers, granola bars, potato chips and even chocolate."

  "Chocolate? You're kidding!"

  She smiled, but the expression never reached her eyes. "They're used in many non-food products, as well," she continued as they walked the footpath to the house. "Like lipstick, plastic and paints. It just seemed like the right time to switch the farm over to a growing, marketable crop."

  David still hadn't seen the accounts, so he reserved his opinion until he'd had a chance to study them. "I have to admit that I'm stunned you were able to convince my father to make such a drastic change," he stated, his eyes drawn to her face, which showed signs of strain. He knew his father's death hadn't been easy for her, but other than that one incident yesterday, she hadn't shared her feelings with him.

  "At first, Edward wasn't exactly excited about the idea," she admitted, a little surprised that David actually seemed interested in what was happening on the farm. "We discussed it for months. I had to show him massive amounts of documentation, including detailed earning projections. Your father could be very stubborn."

  "You're telling me." As they arrived at the back of the house, he opened the door, then followed her inside. "After college, I tried to convince him to make some changes on the farm, newly developed techniques that would have increased production, but he wouldn't listen to me." After that, David had been convinced that he and his father would never have been able to work side by side.

  Tanya hadn't known that. Edward had never mentioned David's ideas concerning the farm. She wondered if he would have stayed if his father had listened to him. David's honest admission caused Tanya to stop and think. Though he spoke without emotion, she could see the sadness in his eyes. His resentment toward her was understandable. Even expected. Which was going to make working with him even more difficult.

  "I remember the two of you quarreling," she admitted softly as she paused just outside the door of the study. "I'd always hoped you could mend things between you." Looking up, she met his gaze. "Despite how you got along, your father did care about you."

  He didn't reply, which disheartened her. Perhaps her own grief would have been easier to handle if she could have shared her feelings with David. But she hadn't dared to talk to him after the reading of the will.

  He'd been angry. She didn't blame him. Nothing she could have said would have changed the way he felt. He resented her, and he didn't want to be her friend. Despite her attraction to him, she had to accept that he was merely tolerating her presence. Not that she didn't hold her own anger toward him. His accusations of her being intimate with his father had been uncalled for. That he could even think such a thing told her how callous he'd become.

  Sighing heavily, she went into the study. Nothing was the same without Edward. The next
year promised to be not only physically, but mentally draining. How was she going to get through this on her own?

  Tanya's steps faltered as she walked into the room. Tears crested in her eyes at the lingering scent of Edward's pipe tobacco. Oh, God. She couldn't handle this. Not now. She desperately needed to be alone. At least until she pulled herself together.

  As she wavered, David came to her aid, grabbing her by the shoulders and offering her support. "Are you all right?" he asked, scrutinizing her features.

  "I'm fine," she insisted. But she wasn't. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She sniffed, then was mortified when even more tears followed.

  "You don't look it," he replied, his tone short as he took in her ashen face. "What's wrong?" He longed to pull her against him and hold her, but considering their earlier disagreements, he wasn't sure she wanted anything from him.

  She shook her head. How could she talk about how very much she missed Edward? David hadn't shown any anguish over his father's death. If he was grieving at all, she couldn't tell. Whatever he was feeling, whatever was going on inside him, he didn't want to share it with her.

  "Tanya, what is it?" he pressed, searching her eyes, wishing she'd talk to him.

  "It's nothing." Desperately, she brushed at the tears, trying her best to wipe them away.

  He frowned, then used his thumb to brush away another tear. "It's not nothing."

  His tender touch caused her to still. Her heart ached for him to hold her, but instead, she pulled away. "It was, uh, it was just the scent of your father's pipe tobacco as I came into the room. It just threw me." Taking a deep breath, she felt a little more in control.

  He hadn't even noticed the smell of tobacco in the room, much less connected it with his father. Yet, it had brought Tanya to tears. "You're shaking all over."

  "I'm okay, now. Really."

  "Really?" The color had drained from her face, and she looked as though she was about to faint. Dark circles were prominent beneath her eyes. His father's death had hit her hard. "Why don't we leave going over the accounts until tomorrow?" he suggested. "You look like you could use a break."

  "I'm okay," she said again, but knew that she wasn't. If she didn't get away soon, she was going to start blubbering and make a spectacle of herself. "I know this is something that shouldn't be put off."

  "It can wait."

  Tanya hesitated. The past few days had been stressful, and she hadn't been sleeping well. The dreams she'd been having were becoming more and more intense. There was the face of someone, a girl, she thought, but she couldn't be sure. When she got up each morning, she felt exhausted, as if she'd just gone to bed. Added to that, she had the pressure of handling her grief and dealing with David. It was becoming too much.

  But she didn't dare show any weakness around David. He already didn't think she could manage the plantation. "All right. How about if I bring up the files on the computer and leave you to look them over?" she suggested, thinking that would give her a chance to escape to her room and gather herself together.

  "If you want," David answered, watching her.

  She gave him a polite smile, then went around the desk. After punching a few buttons on the computer, the screen displayed the file she was searching for. "This file has everything that relates to the plantation. If you have any questions, we can go over them whenever you want." Crossing to the door, she turned and looked back at him. "I'll be in my room if you need anything."

  Without waiting for his answer, Tanya escaped through the door to the security of her room. Once inside, she threw herself on her bed and allowed the tears to come.

  * * *

  Three

  « ^ »

  David entered the dining room and took his seat at the large oak table, surprised that Tanya hadn't yet arrived for dinner. One thing he'd learned about her since he'd returned was she was punctual to a fault. He grimaced. No doubt his father had been responsible for that. His mother had insisted that he and his father be on time for dinner, and after her death, his father had strictly adhered to that rule.

  Had that been one of the ways his father kept his mother's memory alive? Shaking his head, David figured he was foolish for attempting to analyze his father. Try as he might, he couldn't equate the unfeeling man who'd raised him with the sad, dying man who had pleaded with him to take care of Tanya. Besides, from what he'd seen, Tanya could pretty much take care of herself.

  After examining the accounts of the plantation, David had discovered that she was methodical and efficient and unequivocally honest. Every single expenditure had been meticulously noted and justified. He sighed and sat back in his chair. Her idea to change the farm over to soybeans had been clever. And well-timed. The initial investment had been high, but the money earned after the first two years had covered the cost, plus had returned a nice profit—earnings which had continued to increase.

  So he'd been wrong about Tanya.

  Again.

  First he'd suspected her of having an affair with his father. As if that hadn't been bad enough, he'd practically accused her of trying to steal his father's money. If it was possible to kick himself, he would have. The allegation had been just plain stupid. And to be truthful, he hadn't really believed she'd been sleeping with Edward. He'd been resentful, frustrated over her bond with his own father, a man he barely knew.

  And jealous as hell.

  But he still wondered if she wanted Cottonwood. Now, to be sure he kept his legacy, he was trapped here for months.

  And whose fault was that?

  His father's, he silently protested. The man had been obstinate to a fault.

  If you'd tried harder to get along with him, you wouldn't be fighting for Cottonwood now. It would be yours. Without strings.

  David shook his head. It would have been easier to let Cottonwood go. But he couldn't. There were memories of his mother here, memories of the only happy time in his life.

  At the soft creak of the door, he looked up. Expecting to see Tanya enter, he braced himself for the pull of awareness that was becoming so familiar when she was near. When Ruth, his father's cook over the many years, entered, he took a much-needed breath.

  Her lean frame contradicted the many pastries, breads and other tantalizing foods she baked. Though the bun behind her head was nearly gray, and despite a wrinkle or two around her narrow lips and soft gray eyes, she'd changed very little. A hint of a smile touched her lips when his gaze met hers.

  "Ah, David, I thought I heard you come in." As she neared the table, she placed a generous meal of baked chicken, red potatoes and steamed mixed vegetables in front of him.

  David lifted his brow in question. "Tanya's not having dinner?"

  The older woman shook her head. "She called from her room to say that she wouldn't be down to eat."

  He frowned. When she'd left him earlier, she'd been shaking and upset. He hadn't seen her since. "Is she all right?"

  "Is there a reason she shouldn't be?" Ruth countered.

  David blinked. "Not that I know of." He changed the subject, determined to put Tanya out of his mind—if only through dinner. "This smells delicious," he commented, breathing in the aroma of parsley, butter and a hint of garlic.

  "I hope you enjoy it. I remember how much you used to like these potatoes." She paused and leaned against the large oak buffet.

  He grinned. "I still do."

  Ruth responded with a reproving look. "Maybe you should have come home once in a while. I would have cooked anything you wanted."

  Caught off-guard by her words, David felt appropriately chastised. His face flushed as he met her gaze. She was right, of course. He could have returned once in a while, made an effort to get along with his father. But it had been easier to stay away and not subject himself to further confrontations and disappointment.

  And he'd needed to stay away from Tanya.

  If you'd come home, you might never have been able to walk away from her.

  And he knew he couldn't have stayed. H
e swallowed past the knot in his chest. "I know. But my father never cared if I came home or not. The times I called, our conversations always ended in arguments." His father had been one reason he'd stayed away. His attraction to Tanya had been another. But he wasn't going to admit as much to Ruth.

  Grunting, the cook glared at him. "That's because you're every bit as stubborn as Edward was. Neither of you was willing to give an inch." With a hand on her hip, she stared him straight in the eyes. "So, you gonna stay this time?"

  He shrugged one shoulder. "I have no choice."

  "And Tanya?" she asked, concern etched in her expression.

  "She'll continue to run the plantation."

  Ruth's features relaxed. "Good." She started from the room, then stopped near the door. Turning back, she leveled her gaze on him. "You know, everyone here is very fond of Tanya. She came here as a frightened young girl, and I can only imagine how terrible it must be for her not to remember a thing about her past. Despite the accident that caused her loss of memory, it wasn't long before she was running this place right along with Edward. She earned her position right along with your father's respect."

  Her voice was filled with admiration when she continued, "But this last year was especially hard on her. Besides handling the operation of the farm, after your father's cancer was diagnosed, she took him to every doctor's appointment. As his condition worsened, she didn't miss a night sitting with him in his room, catering to his every need. He adored her."

  David lifted the pitcher of iced tea on the table and filled his glass, his relaxed manner giving no clue of his clinching stomach. "I know."

  Ruth's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you, David?" She looked as if she wasn't sure whether to believe him. "Tanya is special. I can't say how I know that, I just do. Your father told me he saw something in her, too. That's why he took her in. He saw her potential, wanted to foster it."

  "From what I can tell, he did a great job," he stated, his stomach tightening another notch. His father had seen Tanya's potential, but not his own son's. David tamped down on the disappointment that churned through him. Despite his feelings of bitterness for his father, he owed Tanya an apology.