Victoria awoke slowly. Her head was thicker than yesterday’s porridge, her mind slow to crank into gear. Grit burned behind her eyelids.
Even asleep she’d felt oppressed.
It was as if a huge weight rested permanently on her chest in the region of her heart. It was a struggle to remember where she was and why she was in this strange room. A soft knock had her turning towards the door as it opened.
‘You’re awake?’ Keir asked quietly.
Connor’s accident.
Keir’s threat. A shiver crawled across her skin. That sleeping pill.
It was small wonder she felt so rotten. As her memories crashed back, she bolted upright, clutching at the sheet. ‘Connor?’
‘I’ve just checked in with his doctors and he’s demanding breakfast even as we speak.’
Victoria released a quick, relieved breath. If Connor was demanding food, he must be feeling more like himself. Her anxiety faded some, but it increased as Keir stepped into the room carrying her suitcase, closing the door behind him.
‘Dad brought your things over earlier.’
She nodded, unsure of his mood. He seemed a little more relaxed, but the sting of his threat over Connor made her wary.
‘My chauffeur will be ready to take you to the hospital at ten. I have to go into the office early. The Donovans board has called an emergency meeting, and as CEO I have to attend.’
Her pulse did a little one-two skip. ‘Over your broken engagement?’
‘It’s a little more complicated than that, but my guess is that they’ve read the morning papers.’
Ohmigod.
His impassive expression and dark, emotionless eyes had apprehension twisting her gut in knots. There was no sign of the passionate lover, the friend she’d confided in or the compassionate man she’d drawn strength from during the vigil at their son’s bedside.
This man was a forbidding stranger.
The bruise on his freshly shaven jaw was now interesting shades of purple and yellow, and one eye was still puffy and his cheek swollen.
She winced and lowered her gaze. ‘But why should something so personal necessitate an emergency board meeting?’
‘Donovans is a banking and investment brokerage. Their business is built on the base of strong moral and family values,’ he explained in a clipped voice. ‘As such, they insist on a high standard for their executives. Any scandal involving board members impacts on their reputation.’
Scandal? Just what the hell is in the newspapers?
‘Why do you allow them to put you through these hoops? You’re the CEO and surely wield the ultimate power.’
Keir walked to the window, looking out. He was so still he could have been a carved statue.
She would feel better about this situation if he’d paced or showed some sign of restiveness. Unable to stand the tension a moment longer, she slid out of bed, reached for the towelling dressing gown draped over a chair and belted it on.
At last he turned to face her. ‘After my grandfather’s death, Dad inherited eighty per cent of Donovans and I inherited the balance. Dad hates the business and it wasn’t long before he ceded control to the board. When he did so, he had the foresight to make the CEO accountable to the board.’
She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘That makes sense.’
‘Then, maybe. Now it’s a cursed liability.’
The grim cast of features increased her nervousness. It was not the first time she gained the impression that Donovans expected Keir to adhere to a ridiculously high standard.
‘Why?’
‘Donovans was my grandfather’s life.’
She nodded. From the little he’d told her, she’d gathered that he’d been very close to his grandfather.
‘It appears that after I went to America, Dad decided to expand Darkhaven and did a partial float of Donovans to raise the capital. Since my return I’ve discovered he’s steadily divested shares and now owns less than a third. Before my return, Dad was set to sell his remaining shares in a merger with a big Australian outfit.’
This bald recital of facts made Victoria nervous. ‘And you didn’t want that to happen?’
‘Once it’s sold, or merged it’s gone forever.’ He shrugged and turned away.
Victoria stared at his rigid back with dawning comprehension. Strained though his relationship was with his father, the family business meant enough to Keir that he’d returned home rather than see Donovans disappear.
‘I take it you still have your shares?’
‘I do,’ he said grimly, turning to face her again. ‘And Dad has agreed to sell me his, but combined we now control less than fifty per cent.’
Keir’s expression increased the jittery sensation in her gut. ‘So who owns the remainder?’
‘After some digging, I’ve discovered that a company has been steadily buying up any shares that come on the market, a company that’s a front for an anonymous investor.’
Victoria hazarded a guess. ‘Someone related to Davina?’
‘Her father.’ Keir gave her a narrow-eyed glare. ‘This brouhaha could well see Donovans subjected to a hostile takeover.’
Victoria swallowed but the knot of tension didn’t budge. Had Keir intended to marry Davina to enable him to regain control of Donovans? Was he that cold and calculating?
He had the reputation as being a ruthless bastard even then. Her father’s words were a hollow echo.
The doubts rooted in her mind just that little deeper.
‘I didn’t know,’ she muttered, stuffing her clenched fists into the pockets of the borrowed dressing gown. ‘How much of Donovans does Davina’s father own?’
‘Not enough to stage a hostile takeover, but now he may think he has enough ammunition to influence several board members to sell him their shares.’
‘Surely they’d offer them to you first?’
‘After this scandal?’
The look he gave her made Victoria go hot all over then icy cold.
Why did I give into impulse? It’s created so much trouble.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ The word exploded from him and exposed his deep-seated anger. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Connor that first night when I came to your room?’
‘Meeting you at Darkhaven gave me one hell of a shock,’ she muttered, resisting the urge to fidget.
‘And that was reason enough to lie through your teeth?’
‘I never once told you a lie,’ she retorted, stung.
‘Didn’t you?’ He stepped closer.
Victoria resisted the urge to retreat as she met his turbulent gaze. He would read any sign of weakness as a victory and this would be a grave mistake.
‘I may have omitted a few details, but I never lied.’
‘A few details?’ He thrust a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled. ‘You consider conceiving and bearing my child isn’t something important enough to share with me?’
‘No! I never thought that, not for one moment.’
He paced across to the window and back. ‘Then what the hell were you thinking?’
Confronted by this justifiably angry man, Victoria was too aware of the rapid race of her heart as she surreptitiously wiped sweaty palms on the towelling bathrobe.
If I know Keir, he will tolerate anything but lies. Logan had warned her and now that it was too late, Victoria wished she’d been open with Keir from the moment she’d realised he was her Seth. She took a long, slow breath. It took all her willpower to meet his dark eyes without flinching and she fought a compulsive urge to babble.
‘That night, I knew you needed to know about Connor, but rightly or wrongly, I decided it would be better for everyone concerned if I waited until we were no longer guests in your father’s house.’
His penetrating gaze didn’t waver.
Once as a child Victoria had impaled a butterfly on a pin. When the insect had tried to escape she’d watched its struggles in horrified fascination as she held her hands over her mouth. Her mother, alerted by some mysterious maternal radar, had walked in. She’d taken in the scene at a glance, crushed the butterfly and delivered Victoria a sound spanking.
As she faced Keir, Victoria felt real sympathy for that butterfly.
‘You didn’t know who I was?’ He was first to break the silence.
Victoria swallowed, trying to clear the constriction in her throat, instinctively knowing her whole future, her son’s future, rested on her answer.
I didn’t know, but I’m almost certain Logan did.
She shoved aside that thought.
‘Had I known, or even guessed at your identity, Keir, I’d have found you long before Connor was born.’ She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘God knows, I tried hard enough to find Seth Donahue.’
There was a shift in his stance, so subtle she wondered if she’d imagined it.
‘Yeah well, I explained that.’ He rubbed the back of his neck.
How like a man to try and claim the moral high ground. She gave a loud, derisive snort. ‘You lied to me, Keir, and that lie is the root cause of this whole debacle. At least I’ve owned my fault.’
He lifted a hand, acknowledging the hit. ‘And later? After that first meeting at Darkhaven?’
Why is it that hindsight is always so darn clear? Victoria took a slow, shallow breath. ‘Later, I realised I’d made a mistake.’
‘A mistake that you had ample opportunity to rectify.’
This was unanswerable. There had been numerous opportunities to tell Keir about his son. But she’d lacked the courage, pure and simple.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry?’ He gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Had you told me about Connor, maybe I could have prevented this whole tasteless debacle.’
What the heck was in the papers that had so many people stirred up? And given what Keir had just disclosed, could he have averted this scandal?
Victoria had her doubts.
Once her path had crossed Keir’s, Connor’s existence could never remain secret. As far as she could see, the only positive thing to come out of this fiasco was that her child would never be subjected to Davina’s malice.
‘How damaging is it?’
‘The coverage is extensive and at a guess I’d say the board is not thrilled.’ As he opened the door he gave her a grimly amused smile. ‘I would suggest you fortify yourself with breakfast before you read the paper.’
Her anxiety spiked and, remembering the scrum at the hospital, she asked, ‘How can I get in to see Connor?’
‘I’ve made arrangements for you to use a private entrance. If you are accosted keep your head down and your lips zipped.’
She waited as he hesitated.
‘Don’t speak or interact with the staff unless it directly concerns Connor and his care. And Victoria …’
The hard edge to his voice made her mouth go dry.
‘Remember that anything you say, even the most innocuous comment, will be leaked to the media and misconstrued. Okay?’
Victoria lowered her head, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind her temples. This was far worse than she’d feared. Keir lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, his expression gentling. ‘This will die down. The essential thing to remember is that here at Dunstan and at the hospital both you and Connor are safe.’
‘You think we’re in danger?’
‘Not exactly in danger, but after today neither of you are anonymous.’
He glanced at his watch again. ‘Mrs Teague will make you breakfast when you’re ready. You can trust her, implicitly. Don’t answer the phone, your cell or step outside the gates alone. I’ve arranged for a bodyguard to escort you to and from the hospital. Okay?’
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Is that necessary?’
‘It is.’
‘What about my business? My flat?’
‘We’ll discuss those later. I have to go, but I want your promise that you’ll cooperate.’
His seriousness was enough to ensure her cooperation. ‘I promise.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see you later.’ With a nod and another of those grim smiles, he left.
For long, fraught minutes, Victoria stared at that closed door.
The temptation to crawl back into bed and hide under the bedclothes until this storm blew itself out was overwhelming. But hiding could not shield her from this new reality.
Damn Logan and his manipulation.
She showered and dressed, thankful for Caine’s thoughtfulness, but she’d very soon need more clothes than she had in her weekend case.
Going downstairs, she paused for a moment, admiring the spacious dimensions of Keir’s house. Last night she’d been too tired to gain more than a hazy sense of her surroundings.
She paused with her hand on the newel post.
Last night Keir had ushered her into that spacious bedroom, shut the door and left her there alone when all she’d really wanted was to be held and comforted, and reassured that their child was going to be okay. Given the passion they’d shared at Darkhaven, his actions last night had come as something of a shock. And again this morning he’d been so aloof.
This detachment left Victoria deeply troubled.
The shiver that shook her had nothing to do with the beautiful home but rather the man who was master of it.
The stairs seemed to float down to an open atrium, a space considerably larger than the entire floor space of the flat she shared with Connor. Sunshine streamed in through the wide windows and made the polished wooden floor gleam. A jewel-coloured Persian rug set off the pale surface of the wood. To one side of the solid wooden front door a stained-glass window created beams of coloured light. On the opposite side there was a sturdy wrought-iron and glass table. On it stood a beaten silver bowl of roses, their perfume heavy on the warm air. A few petals had fallen on the glass tabletop, adding to their charm.
Victoria bent to inhale the heady perfume. These must be the last roses of the season. There was nothing fake about these flowers.
On the wall above the table was an abstract painting. It was huge; its swirling design of pale salmon, dusky pink and sage to moss green intrigued her.
The ambience of this house oozed wealth, and as she looked about Victoria sensed the definite flair of a feminine hand.
Davina’s?
Jealousy ripped at Victoria’s composure and she fought a fierce, overwhelming urge to destroy everything in this perfectly decorated home, a reaction that left her more than a little shell-shocked. What was happening to her?
For so long, her life had revolved around work and Connor, but since meeting Keir this calm, orderly existence had spiralled out of control. She had no idea how to deal with her messy jumble of emotions.
She sucked in a slow, deep breath and then another, but this did little to calm the inner turmoil ripping her apart. Nor did rubbing her palms up and down the soft denim of her well-worn jeans. While Dunstan did not have the oppressive atmosphere that prevailed at Darkhaven, she held few illusions.
This was Keir’s home and she was here on sufferance.
Come or go Victoria, it makes no odds to me, but my son stays.
The memory of Keir’s coldly delivered threat made her skin go clammy.
She may not be the starry-eyed girl of that long-ago summer, but neither was this hard-eyed stranger the same man. Would Keir contest custody of her son? Her rational mind said it would never happen, but her mother’s heart quailed.
Who or what had changed him? The woman he’d married and refused to discuss?
A plump, grey-haired woman bustled into the hallway, and seeing Victoria standing on the bottom step, she stopped abruptly.
‘Ms Scanlan?’ She smiled and extended a hand.
‘You must be Mrs Teague.’ Victoria shook the woman’s hand.
‘Mr Keir said you’d be down soon. I’ll have your breakfast ready in a jiffy. What do you normally eat at this time of the day?’
‘Tea and wholemeal toast.’
She bustled ahead of Victoria, opening the door into a sunny room. ‘You make yourself comfortable. Do you like English breakfast or Earl Grey? Or do you prefer herbal tea?’
‘English breakfast.’ Through the French doors Victoria could see a sheltered flagstone terrace.
‘Marmalade?’
‘Yes, please.’ Victoria took a deep breath. ‘And can I see the papers?’
The way the housekeeper’s face creased with concern made Victoria’s apprehension escalate.
‘Mr Keir suggested you have breakfast first.’
‘That bad?’ Victoria grimaced but was determined.
‘Scurrilous.’ Mrs Teague’s broad Canadian drawl gave that one word a stinging emphasis. ‘The fiends need whipping.’
Nausea swirled in Victoria’s belly, but she had never refused to face reality and wasn’t about to start now. She would meet this challenge like every other one she’d faced: head-on. ‘I’ll have breakfast and the papers. Pretending this situation doesn’t exist won’t make it go away.’
The housekeeper gave her one keen look and then nodded. Victoria sensed she’d won the woman’s respect.
Mrs Teague bustled away and returned a few minutes later with a tea tray and neatly folded newspapers. She put the papers face down on the table before unloading the tray and pouring Victoria a cup of tea.
‘Have your tea first, Ms Scanlan,’ she said, laying a hand on her shoulder. ‘You’ll need it.’
‘Please, Mrs Teague. Call me Victoria, I prefer it.’
The woman nodded and smiled, but when Victoria reached for the first paper the housekeeper grimaced.
Gulping, Victoria turned the paper over.
Donovan Love Child Derails Society Wedding.
Below the screaming headline was a photo of her and her father glaring at each other across the table in the hospital cafe, and beside it was a photo of Keir holding her hand at the same table. Had they been overheard? She skimmed the text, but she found no incriminating comments.
Davina’s tearful account of Keir’s betrayal left Victoria sickened. The woman had missed her calling.
Victoria was cold to the bone. Keir had to hate this very public airing of his private life.
And I’m surprised he’s so aloof.
Guilt layered on guilt.
But had I not gone to his bed he would have bedded Davina.
But would he have? Victoria rested her elbow on the table and her head on her hand as she pondered this question. Had she misjudged Keir?
In that confrontation with Davina he didn’t hesitate to admit we were lovers.
Given the explosive chemistry they shared, would Keir have made love to another woman, even if that woman was his fiancée? Victoria lifted her head and stared out the window, but the scene blurred in front of her eyes.
Quite simply, no. Keir’s integrity was rock-solid and he would never do something so … so sleazy.
And this makes me what? A total fool.
Fighting the sick sensation in the pit of her stomach, Victoria continued to peruse the papers. The next headline was smaller but no less prominent: Board Unhappy Over Latest Donovan Scandal.
Recalling Keir’s disclosures, she figured Davina’s father had to have leaked this item. What went on during board meetings was usually kept private.
Latest scandal?
Impatient, she turned the page and her breath stalled as she stared at huge photos of herself, Victorian Grace and Connor.
After today, you’re no longer anonymous.
The more she read, the angrier she became. Where and how had these snoops dredged up such intimate details of her life? Logan hadn’t escaped either—he figured as one of her many lovers.
Holy bejeebers! Sex once in six years and I’m suddenly a nymphomaniac.
If it wasn’t so humiliating, it could almost be funny.
As she turned to the full-page spread in the centre pages, she sucked in a shuddering breath. How in hell did Sundowner Press get their hands on these photos? This was a serious violation of her privacy.
Mrs Teague gripped her shoulder. ‘What is it?’
‘These photos are out of my personal photo album.’ Victoria pointed to the newspaper with a shaking finger. ‘Someone’s been in my apartment.’
‘Do you want me to contact Mr Keir?’
Did she? The photos were already in print and God knows she’d caused Keir more than enough grief without hauling him out of what could prove to be a very tense meeting.
‘It can wait. It’s not as if he can prevent them being printed.’
She glared at the pictures. Was this the work of her sleazy landlord? Was it his revenge because she’d rebuffed his advances once too often?
She turned the page and saw photos of her father and Daphne, but it was the photo of her mother that hit her with a one-two punch to the gut. Was nothing sacrosanct? How could they stoop so low as to malign a dead woman?
Victoria took a long, slow breath that did little to ease the constriction in her chest.
Thank God no-one had caught on film that punch her dad had thrown at Keir. It would have made headlines in this rag.
She turned to the next page and saw Caine and Elizabeth’s divorce rehashed in sordid detail. The latest Donovan scandal took on a whole new meaning.
Curious, Victoria read the reports.
In the divorce proceedings with Caine, Elizabeth Ellison was portrayed as a child abuser who stood accused of abusing Keir.
Victoria snorted.
And what does that make Muriel?
To her mind, the lie fed to Keir that his mother was dead, and Muriel’s malice, painted a very different picture.
Given the salacious nature of the other articles in this excuse for a newspaper, Victoria was sure that whoever put this piece together about Keir’s mother had crafted the whole article on a tissue of lies.
Victoria remembered Beth Ellison, Keir’s sister.
She was not only beautiful but also friendly and gregarious, and yet if this outrageous rag was to be believed she and her two sisters were abused children.
Victoria studied the photo of Elizabeth Ellison, and even in grainy newsprint she was beautiful and serene.
Victoria sighed softly. Who would have thought her own impulsive action would affect so many innocent bystanders?
***
Keir stood inside the conservatory watching Victoria pace back and forth across the terrace created by two wings of the house, her movements reminiscent of a caged lioness. Did she feel trapped?
‘Welcome to the club,’ he muttered under his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. The action did little to ease his discomfort. He was still smarting from the acrimonious board meeting.
Marry the woman and adopt the boy, and maybe we can limit the fallout from this scandal.
With that directive ringing in his ears, Keir stepped out onto the terrace and was immediately aware of the warmth of the winter sunshine in this sheltered spot.
Victoria’s head came up like a deer sensing danger.
Anger at the board and Victoria frayed Keir’s self-control. He did not like having his hand forced, and between this woman and Donovans he was in an impossible position.
‘How did your meeting go?’
‘It went, and that’s about all I can say.’ He regretted his sarcasm when she winced and turned away.
What was it with her always turning her back on him? Well, he’d had enough. He moved closer so she couldn’t avoid him. ‘We need to legalise our relationship and get married, the sooner the better.’
That certainly grabbed her attention.
‘Pardon?’ The slender throat that he knew tasted as sweet as cream worked and her golden eyes opened impossibly wide.
‘We need to get married.’
She laughed and the soft sound jarred against his bruised emotions. He wished he could find one single thing about this situation that was in any way amusing.
‘Is that the board’s idea of defusing this situation?’
Heat crawled up his neck. Once again he felt like a puppet with someone else pulling the strings, a sensation that made him uncomfortable. This was the reason he’d walked away from Donovans once before. He did not like being directed.
‘It was put forward as a solution.’
‘Really? And did you stop to think what sort of fuel that would add to this furore?’
Damn it, she’s right! Why didn’t I think of that?
‘Besides, I’m not some dirty little secret. I refuse to be hastily married off so you can regain respectability.’
Her scorn made heat prickle the skin on the back of his neck. ‘Thanks to your secretiveness that’s exactly what you are—a dirty secret, one that’s been blown wide open for the whole world to gawk at.’
Victoria flushed crimson then went deathly pale. With her hands fisted at her side she stepped so close he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. ‘Don’t talk to me about keeping secrets, Keir,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Had you not lied to me the summer Connor was conceived, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now.’
‘I explained that.’
‘And that makes it okay?’
‘That’s not what I’m saying; stop putting words in my mouth.’ His temper began to fray and he huffed out an impatient breath. ‘What about Connor?’
‘What about him?’ She lifted her chin, her mouth set in a stubborn line.
‘He’s my son.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
He held up a hand and sucked in a harsh breath that did nothing to ease his anger and hurt. ‘Don’t even try to play that card. Connor’s my son and I have the DNA results to prove it.’
Dull colour suffused her cheeks, but she still met his gaze boldly. ‘So what’s new? He was your son when he was conceived and nothing’s changed.’
For Keir this was like a lighted match to tinder.
He paced across the terrace, putting distance between them, afraid she’d test his restraint as she had the night he’d gone to her room at Darkhaven. ‘What’s new is that after this obscene length of time, I finally know that I have a son. Besides which, you could well be pregnant with another child. Those are both good reasons we should get married.’
She tilted her head and smiled. ‘Wow! You sure are cocky about your virility. But let me remind you it takes two to conceive.’ She touched the tip of her fingers to her lips in cynical mockery. ‘You need to understand that pregnancy is no longer a valid reason for marriage.’
‘I have a son who was born a bastard, Victoria; I won’t have a second child born with that label.’
Her amusement vanished and her golden eyes glittered. She stepped towards him, one hand clenched at her side. ‘Don’t you dare try and lay that on me. I tried everything within my power to find you, but the man who told me he was Seth Donahue didn’t exist.’
The unfairness got to him and in two strides he crossed the terrace until he was so close he could see darker flecks in her amber eyes. ‘What about the letter I left for you with your uncle? Didn’t it occur to you to ask him how you could contact me?’
Her chin jerked up and the gleam in her eyes intensified. ‘I’m neither naive nor eighteen, Keir. I asked Uncle Tom about you, and had you left a letter for me, don’t you think he’d have given it to me?’
‘Are you calling me a liar?’
‘If the cap fits—’
He gripped her shoulders and hauled her against himself, effectively cutting off her words. ‘I don’t lie. Ever!’
‘No?’
That one little word rubbed sideways against the crap-load of guilt he carried over what, at the time, he’d considered an innocent enough deception, a deception he’d thought he’d rectified by leaving her that letter.
‘That was an aberration, and one I’ve always regretted.’
She flinched and he let her go.
When she staggered and lifted a hand to massage her shoulder, remorse slugged him in the gut.
‘Oh God, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’
She shook her head, but her wariness didn’t fade.
‘I intended to tell you who I was that last morning,’ he said, goaded. ‘But if you recall, you were bundled into your aunt’s car and gone before we even had a chance to say goodbye.’
He raked a hand through his hair, once again caught in the grip of the same helplessness and regret he’d experienced as he’d watched her be hustled out of his life all those years ago.
Part of me has mourned your loss ever since.
The errant thought shocked him, but it burrowed in under his skin just the same.
Victoria’s hand trembled as she covered her lips, and she leaned back against the sun-warmed brickwork of the house. ‘Of course I remember, Uncle Tom had just told me my mother was dead.’
The bleakness that shadowed her eyes stirred Keir’s compassion and he moved closer, massaging her shoulder with an unsteady hand. ‘You’ll never know how much I’ve regretted not having the chance to comfort you, or to personally give you my contact details.’
Only later, when you never contacted me, I knew I’d taken advantage of your youth and naivety. You were far better off without me messing up your life.
‘You wanted to stay in touch?’ she asked, jerking upright.
He massaged the ache in his chest. Her incredulity hit him where it hurt.
‘I’m not irresponsible, so yes it occurred to me that you may need me, so I left you a letter outlining how you could contact me, should the need arise.’
Victoria stared at him then tottered to a deckchair and sat down, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms. ‘You thought I may become pregnant?’
‘It was entirely possible,’ he conceded grimly. ‘There were times when we were both a little lax with birth control.’
‘I never, ever received a letter from you, Keir,’ she whispered, shaking her head, her appalled expression too genuine to doubt. ‘I asked Uncle Tom—’
‘Tom Scanlan knew damn well who I was, then and now.’
Victoria stared at him and opened and shut her mouth without a single word emerging.
‘Why do you think your uncle allowed me to escort you anywhere? Did you ever pause to consider that?’
‘But I did ask him.’ She finally managed to find her voice. ‘And he told me he didn’t know who you were or where he could contact you.’
‘That’s a goddamned lie.’
‘If it’s a lie, it’s not mine.’ She came out of the chair, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. ‘After Connor was born, I begged Dad to try and find you.’
‘And yet he lied to you, didn’t he?’
She flushed and he knew he’d hit paydirt.
Keir leaned back against the wall of the terrace and fingered the bruise on his jaw.
His anger with Andrew Scanlan escalated. That summer Victoria was eighteen, an adult, yet her father had treated her like a child when he’d refused to allow her to even visit her seriously ill mother. That was something he’d struggled to understand at the time.
And her father still regarded her as incapable of running her own life, if that angry interchange in the hospital cafe was anything to go by. Although he’d not overheard their conversation, it had been obvious Victoria and her father were having a heated argument.
Victoria’s throat worked and she gave Keir a stricken look.
Tough. He was the one who had been wronged here. ‘You’ve denied me five years of my son’s life, years I can never get back.’
‘I denied you?’ Victoria yelled at him and lunged forward, jabbing at his chest with her fist.
‘I.’
Jab.
‘Did.’
Jab.
‘Not.’
He caught her fist and yanked her against him, the movement making her gold eyes flash fire and singe his control. When she struggled he tightened his hold until he could feel the thud of her heartbeat against his chest.
‘Let me go, you Neanderthal.’
The more she struggled, the more her breasts rubbed against him, and the more aroused he became. Fighting for control, he sucked in a sharp breath and caught her womanly scent, heady, familiar and totally intoxicating. His heart rate picked up and his breath quickened as a traitorous desire ran rampant through every cell of his body.
Oh hell!
So much for his vow never to go down this path again.
Her eyes widened, and her hands lifted then fluttered down and gripped his arms. Colour bloomed in her cheeks and the tip of her tongue peeped out to wet her lips. ‘Don’t.’
Her husky whisper ratcheted up the tension a notch. Her lips trembled and with a muttered imprecation he rubbed a finger along her full lower lip. ‘Don’t what?’
Her lips parted, her breathing quickened and those gold eyes opened impossibly wide.
Caught in the sensuous web of his own words, he looked into her eyes, searching for the secrets of her soul. ‘Are you afraid?’
She went still in his arms before she lifted a hand and laid it against his cheek. ‘I’ve never been afraid of you, Keir, then or now.’
He released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
Her body crushed close, her warm womanly musk overlaid with a hint of the light floral fragrance he’d always associated with her overwhelmed his senses. Without conscious thought, he buried his face in the hollow of her neck, drinking in her scent, her closeness.
How long he stood like that, he wasn’t sure, but the sound of a lawnmower made him aware that they were still outside on the terrace in full view of groundsmen tending the lawns.
With a muttered imprecation Keir scooped Victoria up into his arms and carried her inside into his office.
Once there, he slammed the door and set her on her feet. Her eyes widened as she slid down his painfully aroused body.
‘Tell me. Is this what you want?’ he asked, his voice rough and hoarse as he pulled her close and curved his palm over her cheek. ‘With you, I forget everything I’ve learned about control.’
‘Control is so overrated.’ She lifted a hand and laid it over his larger one.
It was all the permission he needed and Keir took her mouth with savage hunger.
Her response was instantaneous.
When he finally straightened, her breathing was as ragged as his.
She’d called him a Neanderthal and perhaps he was. Why else would the rapid rise and fall of her breast, and the madly beating pulse at the base of her throat thrill him as nothing had for a very long time? All trace of civilised behaviour disappeared as with a low, guttural growl he captured her mouth in a kiss that burned through every vestige of his restraint, the spice of anger still thrumming madly along his veins.
They pulled at each other’s clothes.
In a peripheral part of his mind he heard buttons pop off as she ripped open his shirt and ran her hands over his chest, her nails scraping across his nipples. He sucked in a ragged breath, scooped her up and deposited her on the leather sofa.
She looked up at him and smiled.
The last vestige of his control snapped, and need blocked out all coherent thought as he possessed her with an urgency bordering on desperation.
***
Much later, Victoria stared at the ceiling, her mind adrift, her body satiated. It was too much effort to even lift a finger.
‘Are you trying to kill me?’ Keir murmured, twisting a lock of her flowing hair around his finger.
Until that moment she hadn’t realised that her hair was unbound and covering them both in a silken shroud.
‘I think it’s the other way round.’ It was a struggle to form words and Victoria breathed a deep, shivering breath filled with pine and warm male musk. The scent of sex was heavy on the air. She had never felt so right, so loved, or so contented.
But eventually the lassitude faded to be replaced by rational thought. How had they gone from screaming at one another one moment to tearing at each other’s clothes and having mind-blowing sex the next?
It was sex, pure and simple.
She needed to keep things in perspective. Keir needed her to restore his credibility and appease the board of Donovans. This was the same man who only a few days ago was prepared to enter a loveless alliance because he wanted an heir and an accomplished hostess. Now, he expected Victoria to marry him to scotch a scandal, and because she was conveniently the mother of his child.
She was not Davina.
It was more than time that Keir accepted this.
Victoria would not be pushed into a marriage with Keir because it was expedient, or because of Connor. She deserved better and so did their child. Mind-blowing sex may be great, but it was not enough. Unless Keir opened up and shared his past and his emotions with her, there would be no marriage.
‘What’s wrong?’ He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, brows drawn together in a frown.
‘Nothing,’ she said, suddenly flustered.
She dragged her gaze away from his, only to settle on his hair which her fingers had left dishevelled, past the strong jaw shadowed with dark stubble, to catch sight of his gorgeously naked rump and long, sinewy thighs.
God, he was impressive.
And lying back against butter-soft black leather of the couch, he looked for all the world like some well satisfied pasha.
‘Like what you see?’
His drawled words had heat writhing inside her.
Like?
Keir was every fantasy she’d ever entertained rolled into one delightfully sexy package. She’d trailed kisses down that muscular chest and belly, and kissed the deep dimples just above the sexy butt that she’d first admired that long-ago summer as she’d blossomed into womanhood.
She sat up and scooped her long tresses back over one shoulder, frantically trying to find some graceful way of extricating herself from this situation.
‘Did I hurt you?’ Keir sat up and swung his long legs down to the floor, completely at ease with his nakedness.
‘No,’ she muttered, looking everywhere but at him.
‘You’re not about to cry rape?’
This was so startling, she looked up directly into his dark eyes.
Where did this come from?
‘Why would I even suggest such a thing?’ she asked, angry and bewildered.
‘Isn’t that what a woman does after enjoying a bout of wild sex? God forbid that anyone should see her lusty appetite. It’s much easier to pretend she was forced.’
Victoria stared at him in open-mouthed shock. It took her some moments to gather her scattered wits. There were women who stooped to such tactics, but she was not one of them. She scooped up her clothes and dressed hurriedly.
‘Are you confusing me with some other woman again, Keir?’ She pinned him with a frosty glare. ‘Our lovemaking was consensual, as wild as it was.’
‘Victoria?’
She paused, one hand on the doorhandle, but she refused to look at him.
‘Would it help if I apologised?’
She turned and nailed him with a narrow-eyed glare. ‘Would an apology mean you’ve changed your skewed perception of women?’
He remained silent.
‘Then any apology is pointless,’ she said as she walked out.