“No real preference. I live in a world of make-believe most of the time. Always have. I guess what always kept me grounded in reality in any way at all was family. It didn’t seem to matter where we were.”
“Were you an only child?” she asked, studying him with new perspective.
He regarded her with obvious amazement. “Now, how would you guess a thing like that?”
“It’s always seemed to me that an only child might spend a lot of time making up fantasy worlds. Am I right?”
“You’re right. And the make-believe worlds kept me from being lonely. Maybe that’s why I retreated into one job right after the other once Alicia died. Those worlds are safe, protected. And they’re mine to control. I can make them be anything I want them to be.”
Control, she thought. There it was again. It seemed to be something they were both intent on having in their lives. “But you have a son, and he didn’t get to go along,” she reminded him.
“No,” he said regretfully. “I suppose he didn’t.”
She thought she heard real sincerity in his voice and saw an opportunity to forge yet another connection between him and his son. “Could I make a suggestion?”
He grinned at her hesitance. “Nothing’s stopped you before.”
“If it’s still too painful for you to live in the real world full-time, couldn’t you take Davey into your world occasionally? I’m sure he would be fascinated to see the sets you create coming to life on a soundstage. He’d probably be the envy of all his friends for getting a sneak peek at movies that are already being talked about.”
To her relief he exhibited absolutely no resistance to the idea. In fact, he pounced on it.
“Would you come along?” he asked lightly. “Would you be interested in seeing my worlds?”
“If you and Davey wanted me to.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you wanted to come along.”
“Yes,” she admitted, leaving it at that. She didn’t want him to see how very curious she was becoming about everything that made him tick. She pushed for a firm commitment, knowing just from what she’d observed of him so far that once he’d made one, he wouldn’t back down. “Next week?”
“I’ll set it up.” His gaze was suddenly warm and approving. “I’m beginning to think it’s entirely possible that I had you pegged all wrong,” he said slowly, stopping and turning to face her. He reached out to brush the windblown wisps of hair from her face.
Kate’s breath snagged in her throat. “Meaning?”
“I thought Davey was just another high-profile case for you, but you honestly care about his feelings, don’t you?”
As he spoke, his thumb almost absently caressed her lower lip. Even if she’d been able to form a coherent thought, she wouldn’t have risked speaking and breaking that gentle contact. She nodded finally.
“Why?” he asked, lowering his hand to his side with obvious reluctance. He looked almost as shaken as she felt.
Kate shrugged, unable to form a clear response. “I don’t really know,” she said finally. “He touched me in a way no client has before. I suppose all the people I usually represent are old enough to bear some responsibility for whatever plight they find themselves in. At least they chose their spouse. Davey didn’t get to pick his parents. I figure he got a raw deal losing one at such a young age. I couldn’t bear to see him losing the other one, especially when it didn’t have to be that way.”
David’s gaze lingered and then he nodded. “Point taken.”
She regarded him intently. “I hope so, David. I really hope so, for Davey’s sake and for yours. It seems to me you have a pretty terrific kid.”
“Yeah,” he said, his gaze fixed on the boy who was playing tag with the waves up ahead. “Yeah, I do.”
* * *
David wasn’t sure what name to put on the feeling that was stealing through him. Peace? Contentment? Maybe even a smidgen of anticipation?
Davey had trounced all over both him and Kate playing Monopoly. David blamed it on being distracted. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Kate all evening. Now, with an exhausted Davey tucked in, they were alone. Each of them had retreated into work, after a flurry of nervous apologies.
He glanced over at her again. Her cheeks were pink, flushed first by their brisk walk on the beach, then by the color that rose every time she sensed him staring at her. Her hair was carelessly tousled in a way she would never have allowed it to be in the city. Whatever makeup she’d worn earlier had faded, until only her natural beauty showed through. Her bare feet, the toenails painted a soft, feminine shade of rose, were tucked under her. Her lips, curved down in a thoughtful frown as she concentrated on some legal paperwork, suddenly seemed exceptionally kissable. The script he’d been sent for an upcoming feature film couldn’t begin to compete for his attention.
He fought against an onslaught of guilt. Dorothy’s words came back to him, a reminder that Alicia would never begrudge him a future filled with whatever happiness he could seize for himself and his son. Still, a lawyer? Especially one with a go-for-the-jugular reputation?
And yet all night he had been forced to reassess Kate Newton. She’d been constantly surprising him, both with her compassion for Davey and with her insights. Now, as she sat curled up in a chair, she presented yet another image. Quiet, serene and approachable. All evidence of the prickly, consummately professional attorney had been softened, tempered in this comfortable environment.
Even the house had surprised him. He’d expected something huge and new, a showcase, something so modern and sterile that he would have worried about leaving fingerprints on all the glass and chrome.
Instead, the house was small compared to the newer monstrosities jammed on either side. The decor was an attractive blend of wicker and overstuffed cushions covered in a sturdy, simple Haitian cotton. Every piece of furniture invited relaxation. Colorful pillows added to the cozy allure. To a man sensitive to the uses of color and design, the house offered up the perfect casual, homey beachfront ambience. He wondered if her apartment in the city was the same or offered a contrast to suit her professional persona.
Suddenly he realized that she was regarding him intently.
“I thought you were working,” she chided. “Instead, you seem lost in thought.”
“That is how I work,” he reminded her with a grin, not entirely willing to confess that he hadn’t thought of work in quite some time now.
She shook her head. “Of course. I forgot. Is the script any good?”
Now she had him. “I’m not far enough into it to tell yet,” he hedged.
“How will you know if it’s something you want to work on?”
“If the images start to come.”
“And they haven’t yet?”
“Not for the movie,” he said, surprised a little himself as the faintly provocative words slipped out.
“So, you weren’t working,” she accused, her eyes dancing with merriment, the golden sparks lighting them from within. “What were you thinking about?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
“You.”
“Oh,” she said, her voice suddenly whispery soft, even though she didn’t look nearly as startled as he’d expected her to.
“No more questions?” he prodded.
“Sure,” she said, lifting a bold gaze to clash with his. “Elaborate.”
“I was wondering if your apartment in the city suited you as well as this place does.”
A startled expression crossed her face. “I never really thought about it.”
“Let me guess, then. Very elegant. Very tasteful. Very expensive. Maybe a few Oriental touches, along with some European antiques. The finest wood.”
She laughed. “Have you been peeping in windows?”
“Nope. I just know where all the top decorators hang out.”
“What makes you think I didn’t choose
that for myself?”
“You wouldn’t waste the time.” Her expression told him he was right.
“And this place?” she challenged.
“This, I think, you did yourself. I think you picked things because they appealed to your sense of color and touch or maybe just for fun,” he said, glancing at a colorful child’s pinwheel that had been used instead of flowers in a tall vase in one corner.
“A gift from my youngest niece,” she admitted. “It was accompanied by an automatic bubble gun. She thinks I’m too stuffy.” She hesitated, then added, “I get the impression that you think that, too.”
“Does it matter to you what I think?” he asked, allowing his gaze to linger warmly until he sensed the color rising in her cheeks again. It felt good to engage in this sort of flirtatious bantering with a woman again, especially with one who seemed almost as new to it as he was.
There was an instant’s panic in her eyes before that stubborn chin of hers tilted up a notch. “Yes. I think perhaps it does,” she admitted, leaving him almost speechless at the rare hint of vulnerability she’d displayed.
Such candor deserved an honest response. David considered his answer carefully. “My impression of you is changing by the minute,” he said slowly. “I’m beginning to think you are a rather remarkable woman, Kate Newton.”
She looked startled and pleased. “Really?”
“Definitely remarkable,” he said as he rose to his feet and walked across the room. He held out his hands, and after an instant’s hesitation she placed hers in them. He drew her up. “I don’t know what the hell is happening here, but I don’t think I can wait one more minute to kiss you.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away, seemingly every bit as mesmerized as he was. Stunned by the force of his need after months and months of abstinence, he slanted his mouth over hers.
Her lips were every bit as soft and yielding as he’d imagined. The texture was like satin, warmed and rumpled by a night of steamy sex. The taste? Sweet, with an intoxicating hint of the wine they’d had with dinner. It had been so long since he’d kissed anyone other than his wife that the sensations felt totally new, more vivid and soul-stoppingly pleasurable than anything he remembered.
He drew back and looked into her eyes, saw the faint stirring of passion and sensuality, that startled look of amazement that told him she was as taken aback as he by whatever was happening between them. Unwilling to let those feelings fade when they’d only just discovered them, he scooped up handfuls of that luxurious, silky black hair as he framed her face and settled his lips over hers once more.
There would be time enough tomorrow and the day after that and on into the weeks ahead for all the regrets that were bound to follow.
Chapter Seven
Thank God for Davey, Kate thought as she sat across the breakfast table from David in embarrassed silence. For a woman not easily rattled, those kisses the night before had shaken her in ways she’d never imagined possible. She’d been awake half the night thinking about them. At least Davey’s presence prevented a morning-after analysis of the mistake in judgment they’d made by allowing the intimacy of those kisses.
Why the devil hadn’t she thought to set ground rules for herself, as well as him? Possibly because it had never occurred to her that David viewed her as anything other than a prospective adversary in a battle over his son’s future. She wondered for one fleeting instant if those kisses had been part of some low-down, scheming tactics to throw her off guard. She dismissed the idea almost as soon as it had formed. Nothing she’d seen thus far had suggested that David was anything but a man of real character, albeit one who’d lost sight of his priorities for a brief time.
None of that explained her own behavior. She had wanted him to kiss her, had practically set the stage and invited him to, with her taunting remarks. She never did things like that. Never!
Davey looked from Kate, who was sweeping scrambled eggs from one side of her plate to the other without lifting so much as a forkful to her mouth, to his father, who was crumbling a piece of toast in a similarly distracted manner.
“You guys are acting weird,” Davey declared.
He was right on target. Kate glanced up, found her gaze clashing with David’s, and forced her attention to his son. “That’s because we’re both in a state of shock after the way you stole every piece of property we’d accumulated last night,” she improvised, rather well she thought.
“Stole it!” he exclaimed indignantly. “I bought it. Can I help it if you managed to go bankrupt trying to stay out of jail and paying off rental charges every time you landed on my property?”
“Your overdeveloped property,” Kate retorted. She shot David a conspiratorial glance. “Next time, I say we demand zoning laws.”
“Rigid zoning laws,” David agreed. “And I personally intend to check those dice today to see if you tampered with them. Nobody should have the run of luck you had.”
Davey’s eyes danced with impish laughter. “You had luck, too, Dad.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, rotten luck.”
His father glowered at him, but with obvious underlying affection. “Just for that, you’re on kitchen duty. Kate and I are going for a walk on the beach. You can come join us when these dishes are done.”
“But I have a dishwasher,” Kate protested, though Davey didn’t seem to regard being relegated to doing the chore as any sort of punishment.
“And Davey can load it,” David countered. He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Kate regarded that outstretched hand as if it represented more danger than a crate of TNT. The last time she’d allowed even such an innocent touch, she’d found herself in an embrace that had taken her breath away. To avert a repeat performance, she grabbed up her dishes and put them on the counter, as close as she could get them to the dishwasher without undermining David’s order. She caught the unmistakable gleam of understanding in his eyes as she tried to sashay out the door with no hint of the turmoil she was in.
Outside, with the morning fog still hanging over the ocean, she jammed her hands in her pockets and set off at a brisk pace. She reminded herself sternly that she was a woman who took on powerful men in court all the time without the least trepidation. She reminded herself that David Winthrop was no more powerful, no more threatening than any one of those adversaries.
And then he put his hand on her shoulder and proved her wrong. She felt a jolt of electricity that went clear to her toes. Some dangers obviously had nothing to do with intelligence, courtrooms or adversarial relationships. Some dangers, it seemed, came from within. This man had an innate ability to shake her up with the simplest gesture, the slightest contact. Apparently ignoring those reactions wasn’t going to make them go away.
“I’m curious about something,” she said eventually.
“Oh?”
“Why did you kiss me last night?”
“Surely a woman as bright as you are can figure that one out,” he said, amusement written all over his face. He didn’t seem nearly as distressed by what had happened as she did.
“Never assume anything,” she shot right back, the comment as much an explanation for her behavior as it was a challenge to him.
“Why does any man kiss a woman?” he asked with a great display of patience. “Because he finds her attractive.”
Attraction, she thought. An inexplicable chemistry. She could deal with that. She was attracted to him, too. That didn’t mean they had to do anything about it.
“Are you suggesting that anytime someone is attracted to another person, they should have free rein to act on those impulses?” she inquired cautiously just to be sure those ground rules weren’t an absolute necessity.
That increasingly familiar tolerant smile crept across his face. “Assuming we’re talking consenting adults here, Ms. Attorney, I’d have to say yes,” he said.
“Then it could happen again?”
“Oh, I’d say that’s almost a ce
rtainty.” He regarded her intently. “Does that make you nervous?”
Now she was caught in a big-time dilemma. She believed in truth and honesty at all costs. She also believed in preserving some measure of dignity. “Me?” she hedged.
“There’s no one else around who looks as jumpy as a Junebug,” he observed, giving an exaggerated glance around the deserted beach just to prove his point.
Kate drew in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s be honest here.”
He looked disgustingly fascinated by the prospect. “By all means,” he taunted.
“I can understand your wanting to kiss me.” She glanced at him, then away. “You know, the chemistry thing.”
“Given your intelligence, I’d be surprised if you couldn’t.”
“Would you give me a break?” she asked impatiently. In court, the judge would probably charge him with contempt for all the snappy rejoinders. She was stuck with appealing to his sense of fair play. “I’m trying to make a point here.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”
“Okay, then. I can understand one kiss, as an experiment, so to speak.”
“Two,” he corrected, not even trying to contain that damnable grin. “I distinctly remember two.”
Kate did also. Even if she’d been able to bury the fiery memory of one of them, it appeared likely he intended to remind her at each and every opportunity. How had she so badly misread David Winthrop? She’d never guessed that all that sorrow had dimmed the soul of a scoundrel. She’d wanted to draw him out of his self-absorption for his son’s sake, not reawaken his slumbering libido for her own.
Of course, who was she to say it had been slumbering? Davey was the one he’d been ignoring. For all she knew, those nights he spent away from home had been spent in the consoling arms of some woman. She scowled at the thought, even as she dismissed it. If she was certain of nothing else, it was that David was every bit as loyal to his wife’s memory as he had been to Alicia when she was alive.
“Hey,” he said jovially. “One kiss. Two. Who’s counting? No need to get testy.”
“I am not testy,” she said in a tone that contradicted the statement. “Look, all I’m trying to say is that I have a responsibility to my client here. I think there’s a real conflict of interest in our…”
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