For twenty-four hellish hours Victoria stewed over Dan’s ultimatum. Finally, after a sleepless night, she decided she had little alternative but to trust Albee’s judgement.
She had to ask Keir for the money.
Who else could she turn to? Asking Logan, Caine or her father was out of the question. She tried to imagine every scenario and rehearsed countless opening gambits, but none struck the right chord.
Hiding under a blanket in the ute, Victoria was again helped by Albee to avoid the media pack at the gate. Victoria knew she was courting Keir’s wrath, but there was no way she wanted a bodyguard.
So far, no-one had paid her the slightest heed.
Her first surprise was when Albee drove past the high-rise that housed the Donovans offices. There was no press contingent camped on the pavement outside the central Hamilton building. Keir had never mentioned that the press had stopped hounding him at work.
Albee clamped a hand on her arm. ‘You’ll be fine.’
I wish I had your confidence!
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, turning to the old man and giving him a hug.
‘Will you be okay now?’
‘Sure, there’s no-one hanging around the offices.’
‘How will you get home?’
‘With Keir.’
He will either bring me home or we’ll be finished.
That thought made the butterflies clumping around in her stomach don hobnail boots.
‘You sure?’
She wasn’t sure about anything, but seeing Albee’s worried frown she summoned a smile and alighted from the ute. She waited a moment until it merged with the traffic before she turned to brave Keir in his office. In the lobby, her nerve almost failed.
I can’t do this.
While she was hovering on the brink of flight, the doors from the street opened and Keir strode into the lobby, halting abruptly when he saw her. ‘Victoria! What are you doing here? Where’s Connor?’
‘At home with Mrs Teague. I needed to see you.’
‘Where’s Holly?’
She grimaced, knowing he wasn’t going to like this. ‘I gave her the slip.’
A heavy frown darkened his face, but he didn’t scold, instead he just gave an expressive shrug. ‘How did you escape the mob at the gate?’
‘Albee helped me.’ She gave him a steady look but refused to prevaricate. ‘They took no notice of the gardener in the old ute.’
Keir’s smile was wicked. ‘Clever! Come upstairs.’
He put a hand on her arm, the warm pressure infinitely comforting as he escorted her into the lift. Would the comfort remain when he knew why she was here?
‘The press doesn’t bother you here?’
He pressed the buttons before he answered. ‘They did at first, but the police moved them on. They eventually do move on to more satisfying prey.’
How she wished she’d heeded Keir’s advice not to venture away from Dunstan. Had she not ventured out, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now. But there was no way of shoving these worms back inside the can she’d prised open.
The lift stopped and they stepped into an open, spacious office reception. ‘Chloe, this is my fiancée, Victoria.’
A tall, svelte blonde rose from her desk, walked around it and extended her hand to Victoria. Chloe had to be close to fifty, but she was one of those women who were ageless and would still look beautiful at eighty.
‘It’s nice to put a face to the voice,’ Victoria said as they shook hands.
‘How’s Greta Beardsley working out for you?’ Chloe asked, her eyes twinkling.
‘She’s ideal. You certainly picked a winner for me there,’ Victoria said and turned to Keir. ‘I need to have a word with you.’
Shrewd, dark eyes scanned her face and whatever he saw had him saying to Chloe, ‘See we’re not disturbed and hold all my calls.’
Keir opened his office door and escorted Victoria into his inner sanctum. She barely heard the door close over the thunder of her heartbeats.
God, I can’t do this.
To give herself time, she wandered around his office, studying paintings on the wall, picking up from a side table a small bronze statue of a girl carrying two baskets. She rubbed a nervous finger over the cold metal before carefully replacing the statue where it had sat.
All this time she was aware of his silent scrutiny.
She turned to the window and stared out. In the distance she caught a glimpse of the water through the trees, marking the course of the mighty Waikato River as it snaked its way through Hamilton.
‘What’s the matter, Victoria?’
She gave a start and turned to look at him. ‘What makes you ask?’
‘Maybe because you resemble a cat on hot bricks,’ he said with dry humour.
The observation made her wince and she surreptitiously wiped a damp palm on her skirt as she turned to face him.
So it starts, the demands you want satisfied. His contemptuous words tormented her.
She couldn’t ask. Desperate, she turned to flee.
In two strides Keir crossed the space and took her chilled hands in his. ‘Victoria, what is it?’
She looked up at him, stricken, and prayed that Albee had read Keir right. There was only one way to do this. She took a slow, deep breath and asked, ‘I want ten thousand dollars, Keir.’
His face went blank.
Those expressive chocolate eyes were strangely opaque. No sound broke the incredible stillness as they stood motionless, just looking at each other.
Say something. Anything!
Victoria felt sick to the pit of her stomach. What was he thinking?
Without uttering a word he turned to his desk, yanked open a drawer and extracted a chequebook. The sounds of his movements impinged on the heavy silence.
He put his hand inside his suit jacket, the silence so sharp she heard the rustle of the silk lining of his suit coat. The scratch of the fountain pen on paper made her mouth go dry.
Tension throbbed on the air.
Through the long reaches of the previous night she’d tried to imagine this scene and she hadn’t come even close. The sound of the cheque ripping from the book was so obscenely loud.
‘Here’s your payment, madam.’ The menace in his silky voice made all the hairs on her body stand to attention. ‘Now I’ll take mine.’
Before she had time to grasp the enormity of his words, he caught her in a crushing grip and hauled her close to his body, tension hardening in every muscle and sinew.
A strong hand forced up her chin.
He stopped her shocked protest by the simple expedient of covering her mouth with his in a predatory kiss, a kiss that scorched clear through to her toes.
Panicked excitement leapt along her veins.
This was no ordinary kiss.
It was powerful, hungry and had a deep underlay of emotion she was unable to unscramble her wits enough to interpret.
She felt his hand at the buttons of her blouse, then his long, supple fingers were on her breast kneading and stroking until she was bucking beneath his touch. Her whimpers were absorbed in the cavern of his mouth.
Victoria was barely aware of moving until her knees buckled and she hit the edge of his desk. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her and she sat on the front edge. A powerful knee nudged her thighs apart and he was between them. He leaned her backward and afraid of falling, she let him go, leaning her hands back on the desk to support her weight.
His hands moved up to her head and quickly destroyed the coronet she had taken such care in creating. Hairpins pinged as they landed on the surface of his polished oak desk.
Her hair cascaded around her shoulders.
Keir allowed her no time to regroup before he scrambled her wits even more.
A hard hand slid up her thigh and in one effortless movement he ripped her panties in two, tossing them carelessly aside. Long lean fingers probed the entrance to her body, already slick with arousal. As he penetrated deeply with his fingers, her shocked cry was muffled in his mouth.
This was ravishment, plain and simple.
Before she guessed what he was about, he dropped to his knees and his mouth replaced his hand. Victoria bucked and cried out before fiery sensation streaked through her entire being, turning her into a quivering mass of molten sensation, wound so tight she crashed off the edge of the world. He allowed her no time before he was there driving relentlessly into her body. Her head hung backward, the effort to lift it too much.
His hard thrusts drove her up and over the edge until, boneless, she spiralled into black space. Keir’s harsh breathing penetrated her stupor. Slowly raising weighted eyelids, she lifted her head. He stood in front of her fully clothed, but it was his expression that brought her sharply back to her senses and chilled her to the bone.
She tried to speak but he held up an imperative hand.
‘Don’t say a word,’ he hissed from between clenched teeth. ‘I don’t want to hear it. I’m the fool. I actually thought you were different.’ He leaned past her, picked up the cheque from the desk and thrust it down the front of her gaping bra. ‘I’ll have a second installment tonight.’
A tide of crimson humiliation swept over her whole body, up her neck and into her face. Struggling to summon what little dignity she still possessed, she slid off the desk and straightened her skirt. Her hands shook as she hooked her bra and buttoned her blouse.
With one sweeping movement she raked a hand through her hair and swept the mass over one shoulder before she stooped and picked up her purse. Her legs were unsteady, but she forced them to move toward the door, stepping over her discarded panties. She had her hand on the doorknob when he spoke.
‘Victoria—’
She looked back over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question. For long, silent moments their gazes clashed.
She lifted her chin; pride was all she had left. ‘Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear.’
The tide of crimson that swept up his face should have pleased her, but she discovered it only increased the emptiness that threatened to consume her.
Not until she was clear of his office did anger and misery surface.
She had known Keir would deeply resent her asking for money, but she’d never expected such an extreme reaction. As she walked, the wind caught her unrestrained hair, blowing it across her face. With a frustrated sigh, she pushed it from her face, grimacing as it caught on her lips. A sandwich board on the footpath caught her attention, and in that split second she made a decision and walked inside.
Luck was on her side.
‘We have a cancelled appointment. Would madam like to step through now?’
For one moment Victoria hesitated. Then, with grim resolution, she took this as a sign. It was time. Time she cast aside foolish dreams and started over. Without trust, there was no future for her with Keir.
***
Keir lifted a hand and let it fall. The click of the door closing behind Victoria held a finality that made him swear. A low, succinct oath blistered the air.
What have I done?
He raked a shaking hand through his hair and closed his eyes, but Victoria’s shattered expression was burned onto his retinas.
The silence mocked him.
With another frustrated oath, he went to the window and leaned his hot face against the glass, but this did little to cool the emotions ripping at him.
Anger. Betrayal. Disillusionment.
The rage slowly subsided, but its aftermath left him weak and trembling and he slumped against the window frame, dismayed to find he needed the support.
Shame soaked clear through to his soul.
This uncontrollable emotion welled up and consumed him and everything in its path, the same as it had done when he discovered his mother was very much alive. And when Katrina—
With Katrina, he’d managed to hold it together until he had put the width of an entire country between them … or he would have choked the life out of her, very, very slowly.
Katrina no longer mattered.
But with Victoria …
Fear mingled with shame. This time he’d expended his rage on Victoria, the one woman who didn’t deserve to be hurt.
I’m tired of paying for some other woman’s sins …
Keir rubbed his face, surprised when it came away wet. Over the past month, as he’d pieced together the fragments of their past, Keir’s admiration and gratitude for his son’s mother had grown. Alone and with minimal support, she’d refused to relinquish their son, despite enormous pressure from her father. She’d worked so hard to raise Connor, all the while as she forged a career to support them both.
He clenched his fist.
Andrew Scanlan had treated his daughter appallingly.
As if I’m treating her a whole heap better?
If Victoria needed to ask him for money, Keir knew she must have a valid, pressing reason. Now that it was too late, he knew he should have asked her why and not just reacted.
Instead, he’d treated her like some two-bit whore.
Guilt flayed him.
He strode back to his desk. What the hell could he do to fix this? Victoria’s ripped panties lay on the carpet and as he stooped to pick them up, his hands shook. The torn scrap of satin and lace was an indelible stain on his honour.
Icy dread clawed at him.
This eruption of temper could have the very worst kind of consequence. It could well cost him the one woman who brought warmth and laughter into his barren life, the only woman he could ever love.
Love?
His roiling thoughts came to an abrupt halt. He prodded the idea from every angle and wondered how he could be so blind. The thought of life without Victoria chilled him to the bone. He raked an agitated hand through his hair, cold sweat beaded his brow and the knot in his gut tightened. His temper may well have cost him the one woman who held the power to help him heal.
How can I repair the damage?
Victoria was not the mother who’d abandoned him, or Muriel who dealt in lies and cruelty, nor was she Katrina with her duplicitous agendas. He knew this, and yet in one moment of blinding rage he’d expended years of anger at all three women on the one person who didn’t deserve it.
In a moment of clear insight, Keir knew that unless he faced the issues from his past, nothing was more certain than that he stood to lose the one woman who was the centre of his world.
Inaction wasn’t an option.
Unless you ask the right questions, you’ll never get the right answers.
In one blinding moment, Keir finally understood Dan Sinclair’s cryptic words. He understood that if he wanted to salvage his relationship with Victoria, he needed to ask the questions he should have asked a long time ago. He strode back to his desk, picked up the phone and punched out a number he rarely called but that was indelibly imprinted on his mind nonetheless.
The phone picked up. ‘Donovan.’
‘Dad? It’s Keir. I need to see you.’