Accidentally Yours

by Susan Mallery

  Kerri shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve gotten to know him. He’s not the coldhearted shark everyone thinks. He’s a real person.”

  “A real handsome person.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “That’s not what you said before—when Cody went into the hospital.”

  “I know. It’s complicated. And confusing.”

  “The man or your feelings for him?”

  “I’m not supposed to have feelings for him,” Kerri admitted. “And I don’t.”

  “Liar.”

  Kerri winced, knowing her friend spoke the truth. “I don’t have a lot of feelings for him. How’s that?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the one with issues.”

  More than issues, Kerri thought. Complications. Concerns and a bunch of other things she didn’t want to identify.

  “He’s nice,” she said at last.

  “Not a way I’ve ever heard him described before.”

  “He’s ruthless and driven, but he has a heart. He’s caring. He lost a child, too. He’s alone and there’s something about him…” Something that drew her in even as she knew she had to run in the opposite direction. “I didn’t expect to like him, but I do. I hate what the press is doing. So this is my way of fighting back.”

  “Nothing more?” Linda asked.

  “There might be a small element of apology in it. The last time we were together, we fought. It was mostly me.”

  “Did you apologize?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “You’ll get an entire town to declare Nathan King Appreciation Day and put on a parade rather than say you’re sorry?”

  “It’s not like that. I’ll tell him I’m sorry. In the meantime, he has something to work with. It’s a big gesture.”

  “But sometimes the little ones matter more.”

  Kerri knew that. She also knew the danger of getting involved. “We can’t have a relationship. It’s not allowed.”

  “Have you ever considered that you’re already in a relationship? That you just don’t want to admit it?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  KERRI WAS SO CRABBY she cleaned the bathroom. She decided that if she was already in a bad mood, she might as well do something yucky. So she attacked the toilet with cleanser and a brush, nearly asphyxiating herself in the shower/tub with a combination of confined space and semideadly chemicals, then scrubbed the sink until it shone. When she was finished, she did her best to revel in the satisfaction of a job well done and ignore the constant replay of Linda’s claim that she already had a relationship with Nathan.

  Her friend was wrong, she told herself for the five thousandth time. Liking someone was just friendship. She liked Nathan. Why wouldn’t she? He’d been good to her and Cody. Kind, even. And okay, yes, he got her all flustered and wanting when she remembered what it had been like to kiss him, but that wasn’t personal. She hadn’t had sex, real sex, since before Cody was born. So it made sense that when a hot guy touched her and kissed her she responded. She should be grateful that all her parts were still working. Yay her.

  Biology did not make a relationship.

  It was simple—she liked a man who had the power to turn her on. An easy explanation. Expected, even. She wasn’t involved. She was a friendly, sex-starved woman. Nothing more.

  The front door opened and Cody yelled that he was home. After pulling off her gloves, Kerri walked into the living room.

  “I was going to come get you,” she said.

  “Michelle and Brandon walked me home,” he told her. He wrinkled his nose. “You cleaned the bathroom. It always smells funny.”

  “The scent of sanitized. I may move on to your room next.”

  Cody looked horrified. “I made my bed, Mom. My room is clean.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I vacuumed in there.”

  “You don’t want to start now. How was the town meeting?”

  As distractions went, it wasn’t a great one, but she decided to give her son a break.

  “It went very well. We’re going to have Nathan King Appreciation Day in Songwood, with a parade and everything.”

  “Sweet. Is he going to ride on the fire truck?”

  “I was thinking more of an open car.”

  “Can I ride with him?”

  “Ah, sure. If you want to.”

  “It would be so cool. I’ve never been in a parade before. And I like Nathan.”

  With that, Cody rolled down the hallway to his bedroom. Kerri watched him go. She’d never considered that her son would have feelings for Nathan one way or the other.

  She hadn’t thought they’d spent much time together. Worse, she’d accused Nathan of ignoring her son. Obviously Cody hadn’t felt ignored.

  Did Cody miss having a father? Dumb question, she told herself. Of course he did. It wasn’t that she’d been deliberately trying to keep him away from men—it had just worked out that way.

  When Cody had been born, she’d assumed that one day she would heal from Brian’s death and start dating again. She’d even thought about remarrying. But once Cody had been diagnosed, she’d lost all interest in a romantic relationship. Every ounce of her emotional energy had gone toward keeping her son alive. She’d made her deal with God and, until the past few weeks, she’d kept it. Her life for Cody’s.

  She’d been more than willing to make the sacrifice, but somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten that she wasn’t the only one involved. That her son might like a say about having a man around.

  She’d been doing her best to save Cody, but had she also been selfish, depriving him of an important part of his life?

  “Because I need one more thing to feel guilty about,” she murmured to herself.

  But the idea wouldn’t go away. And because what Cody needed mattered more than anything, she thought maybe she should rethink her plan.

  “ARE WE BORING YOU?” Jason asked impatiently.

  Nathan leaned back in his chair. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’re not paying attention to anything I’ve said. I could be talking about elephants.”

  “As we’re planning strategy involving a project worth nearly a billion dollars, I know you weren’t talking about elephants.”

  “You’re not listening.”

  Nathan thought about pointing out that Jason was well compensated for the hours spent on his business, but what was the point? His lawyer was right—he hadn’t been listening.

  “I have a lot on my mind,” he said, by way of explanation.

  “Anything you want to share?”

  Nathan looked at the six associates in the conference room. “No, thanks.”

  None of them needed to know that he couldn’t get Kerri out of his head. That he thought about her during the day and dreamed about her at night. He didn’t do relationships. But somehow she’d crawled inside of him and he didn’t know how to get rid of her.

  She’d been right, something he hated to admit. He was angry that her son was alive and had a chance, while his son was dead. He avoided Cody because the reminders were too painful.

  He told himself it didn’t matter—that the kid had enough people in his life—but he knew he couldn’t let himself off that easily.

  Jason’s assistant stuck her head into the conference room. “Kerri Sullivan is here. She asked me to let you know.”

  “Send her in,” Jason said.

  Nathan looked at him. “We agreed she wasn’t part of the strategy.”

  “You said it. I never agreed. Nathan, she’s a good advocate. We need her to win this.”

  “No, we don’t.” He didn’t want Kerri involved for a whole lot of reasons, most of which he wasn’t willing to discuss with his attorney or friend.

  “Too late now.” Jason rose. “Kerri. Thanks for coming in. I know it’s a long drive for you.”

  “It is. Nathan usually sends Tim to pick me up. You should remember that for next time.”

  Jason grinned. “Point taken. Have a seat.”


  “I will shortly.” She glanced around the room, her focus settling on Nathan. “Can I talk to you for a second first? Privately?”

  She’d dressed for the meeting, wearing a dress and heels. He wondered if the outfit was her attempt to look sensible and businesslike.

  She failed on both counts. The dress clung to her curves in a way that made his blood pressure climb to dangerous levels. She’d pulled her hair back in a bun that should have looked scary as hell, but instead made him want to pull out all the pins and run his hands through the soft, silky blond strands. All she needed was a pair of dark-framed glasses to complete the sexy-bombshell-masquerading-as-prim-secretary fantasy.

  “Use my office,” Jason said.

  Nathan’s mind immediately went to the comfortable leather sofa and everything he and Kerri could do there. Then he remembered her request to speak to him privately and realized the other man’s offer was about responding to that, not giving Nathan a way to fulfill his erotic fantasy. Damn.

  He led the way, then closed the door behind them. Kerri glanced at the large windows.

  “More great views,” she said. “You are blessed that way.”

  “Not why you’re here.”

  “I know.”

  She looked at him, her blue eyes wide and filled with emotion.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him. “About before. About what I said. I have no right to judge you or your grief. I blasted into your life and did what I had to in order to get what I wanted. We have a deal and no part of that is you acting as a surrogate father to my son. If Cody reminds you of Daniel, you have to deal with that. It’s not my place to say you shouldn’t or you can’t.”

  She was apologizing? “You’re giving me too much credit.”

  “I don’t think so. Nathan, you’ve been nothing but kind to me. You gave Dr. Wallace the money, you came through on all my demands.”

  “I gave a list to my assistant.”

  She smiled. “It was more than that. Why aren’t you willing to take credit?”

  He wasn’t sure, but there was a part of him that didn’t want her seeing him as a nice guy. It was always safer to be the bastard.

  “It’s not important,” he told her.

  “It is to me. You’ve been there for me in a dozen different ways. No one has been there for me like that in a very long time.”

  He wanted to change the subject. He wanted them to be somewhere else, doing something else.

  “Kerri, don’t make me into something I’m not. We had a deal. I’m keeping my part of it. I’ll make damn sure you keep yours. It’s that simple.”

  “Is it? What part of our deal included you buying Cody a very expensive wheelchair?”

  He didn’t want to talk about that, either. “He needs it, you couldn’t afford it. End of story.”

  She tilted her head. “Is it? Why is it so easy for you to be the bad guy and so hard for you to accept a thank-you?”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “You mean am I going to continue to torture you emotionally? It’s kind of fun, so I’m going to say yes.”

  She thought she had him trapped. She thought she was winning. He had to remind her who was in charge.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close. He moved fast, so she wouldn’t have time to resist, then he put his mouth on hers and kissed her the way he’d wanted to since she walked into Jason’s office, looking all prim and untouchable.

  He used his mouth to mark her, pressing, teasing, moving against her, arousing them both—he hoped. Because being close to her was sure doing a number on him. Just the scent of her was enough to get him hard. Or seeing her or thinking about seeing her, dammit all to hell.

  Angry at himself for not being stronger and her for being, well, her, he claimed her with a passion that burned hot and bright, making him hard and hungry and wishing they were somewhere more private than his attorney’s office.

  He was breaking the rules she’d set up and the promise he’d made to himself. Not that he cared. He was Nathan King—he took whatever he wanted.

  Then he felt it—the light stroking of her tongue against his, the pressure of her body straining to get closer. He heard her sharp breathing, the vibration of her silent moan. He eased one hand from her shoulder to her breast and gently cupped the curve.

  They both stilled. He expected her to step back and start yelling. When she didn’t, he brushed his thumb against her hard nipple, aching to taste what he touched, to see her bare, flushed, wet. He was about to bend down to take her in his mouth, clothes be damned, when she stepped back.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nathan, I can’t.”

  She wouldn’t. There was a difference.

  All the emotions had left her eyes except for one—need. He wanted to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that if he made her want him, too, he won. Only he didn’t believe the words. She still had enough strength to walk away and, honest to God, he didn’t. This round went to her.

  “We should get back,” he said, and turned toward the door.

  She touched his arm. “I don’t want it to be like this. You’re angry.”

  “I’m not anything.”

  “I’m not playing. This isn’t a game.”

  He looked at her with as much disinterest as he could muster. “Your point is?”

  She sighed. “We were having a moment. I liked having a moment.”

  “Meaning I ruined it by kissing you?”

  “No. I like kissing you, too. Stopping isn’t about not liking it.” One corner of her mouth turned up. “It’s been a long time. Too long. I turn to jelly even before you kiss me. I know you think I’m crazy believing I have some control over what happens to Cody, but it’s real to me. I get so scared, Nathan. I get so scared that he’s going to die. He’s all I have. He’s my reason for living.”

  “He’s only nine. You can’t put all that on him.”

  “I know. I try to make it different, but I can’t.”

  “You don’t have to try to make me feel better.”

  “I can’t help it. You matter.”

  Simple words. Easy words. He would bet a lot of money she meant them. He mattered.

  He told himself it was because of the fifteen million or the wheelchair or anything else he might have bought her or given her. That it was about the things, not him personally. Anyone who could do what he’d done would matter.

  But a part of him didn’t believe that. A part of him thought maybe, just maybe, her words were specifically about him. About what happened between them—in the moments they’d shared.

  He was torn—wanting it to be true but knowing there was power in distance, power in the silence, power in being the one who walked away.

  “Don’t trust me, Kerri. You’re in over your head with me.”

  She smiled. “I know that, but here’s the funny part. If I start to drown, I believe with all my heart you’ll come rescue me.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She walked past him and out of the office. He followed her back to the meeting, cursing the day he’d walked into The Grill for lunch and had instead been accosted by a mouthy fake waitress with a DVD player.

  They returned to the conference room. Kerri took a seat, then leaned forward.

  “I have an announcement,” she said. “You’re going to love this. Songwood is having Nathan King Appreciation Day.”

  If he’d been drinking he would have spit or choked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know. Isn’t it cool? I went to the town meeting and suggested it. That’s when I found out about all the other stuff you’ve been doing.” She turned to Jason. “Remember that list I gave you about the stuff in town?” She glanced at the other attorneys. “For that, um, thing we agreed to.”

  Jason looked as if he was trying not to smile. “I remember.”

  “He did it all. The baseball uniforms, the f
ence, everything. That should be in the press, don’t you think? He’s made a huge difference in Songwood. The money for the lab means the town will survive. Everyone is very excited about the increase in work and house values. It’s practically a miracle. So when I suggested Nathan King Appreciation Day, they thought it was a great idea. There’s going to be a parade.” She turned back to him. “You’re the grand marshal.”

  “Shoot me now,” he told Jason.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” his attorney said.

  “It’s terrible. I’ll look like I’m sucking up.”

  “It’s brilliant,” Kerri snapped. “You should be thanking me. Plus, hello, a parade in your honor. How often does that happen?”

  Never would be plenty of times, he thought grimly. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “I busted my butt for this,” Kerri said.

  “You told us everyone in Songwood was excited.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It was an easy sell, but there’s a lot of work. I’ve been making calls and I have to help with a couple of the floats. Plus finding a car for you to ride in. Oh, Cody wants to be in the car with you. He asked me himself. Is that okay?”

  “It would be great press,” one of the associates said. The others agreed. Jason didn’t say anything.

  Nathan would have preferred a couple of hours of serious torture to a parade, let alone Nathan King Appreciation Day. It would be press, all right, but not the kind he liked. Every part of him wanted to say no, but how could he throw Kerri’s gift back in her face?

  “It could work,” Jason said. “It won’t hurt.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Small town embraces benefactor?”

  “Rich bastard buys good press.”

  “We’ll make sure it doesn’t play that way,” Jason said.

  “I think it’s brilliant,” Kerri grumbled.

  “It was very thoughtful,” Jason told her.

  She glared at Nathan. “I did it for you.”

  She had, he thought in surprise. To help. Maybe because she was worried about him. When was the last time someone had worried about him?

  “Thank you,” he told her.

  “About time.”

  “Really. I appreciate it.”