A Man of Secrets

by Amanda Stevens

  In this beloved story by Amanda Stevens, which was originally published by Harlequin Intrigue in 1996, a woman will do whatever it is to discover the truth at Christmastime… even as she attempts to hide some of her own secrets.

  Natalie Silver can’t understand why FBI agent Spencer Bishop is helping her. But when her ex-husband, Spencer’s brother, is found dead in Natalie’s Christmas shop, she finds herself needing the secretive and seductive Spencer as much as she once loved him. And therein lies danger.

  The more time Spencer spends with her and the more clues he unravels, the closer he comes to her own secret. His brother had wanted to take her six-year-old son from her. Will Spencer feel the same way if he learns her son is his?

  A Man of Secrets

  Amanda Stevens

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  CHAPTER ONE

  He was up to something. Natalie Silver twirled her glasses in one hand as she tracked her ex-husband’s slow progress through her shop on San Antonio’s famed Riverwalk. His presence seemed incongruous in the cheery warmth of Silver Bells, her potpourri-scented Christmas boutique.

  Christmas music played softly in the background, and tiny white lights, trimming doorways and windows, glowed with subtle magic. But Anthony’s presence reminded Natalie of darker times. Unpleasant times.

  He picked up an Austrian-crystal snowflake and held it to the light, then laid it aside to admire a hand-carved wooden Christmas tree, meticulously detailed, done by a famous German craftsman. He left the tree and sauntered toward the Belgian angels.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” Natalie finally asked.

  Anthony looked up and gave her a cool smile. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

  As he lifted his left hand to remove one of the angels from the shelf, the glint of sunlight flashing off his gold watch attracted Natalie’s gaze. He wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, she noted, feeling more wary by the moment. He’d been married to his current wife for six years—ever since he and Natalie had divorced—and the sudden absence of his wedding band seemed ominous to her somehow.

  “Maybe if you told me who the gift is for, I could help you find something,” she suggested. Not that she had any particular desire to be helpful to Anthony—or to any of the Bishops, for that matter—but the sooner he found what he was looking for, the sooner he would depart.

  Of course, that notion wasn’t exactly consoling since when he left, he would be taking her son with him for the evening. That alone was enough to fill Natalie with trepidation, but this new attitude of Anthony’s…this new congeniality…

  He was up to something, all right. Natalie hadn’t yet figured out what, but she was very much afraid it had something to do with her son. In the six years since their divorce, Anthony had shown no interest whatsoever in Kyle, had done nothing more than have his secretary send the occasional birthday or Christmas card, along with an obligatory, impersonal check.

  Even Irene, Kyle’s grandmother, had kept her distance, and Natalie had begun to hope the Bishops were out of her life for good.

  But a month ago, out of the blue, Anthony had called her to say he wanted to start spending time with Kyle on a regular basis. Since Anthony had legal visitation rights and he’d always paid his child support on time, there was nothing Natalie could do to prevent him from seeing her son—no matter how much she might wish to.

  And besides, she knew Kyle was curious about Anthony. About all the Bishops. Because he was one.

  “The gift is for the mother of one of my clients,” Anthony explained. “She’s very old and her son’s been away for quite some time. I want to send her something that will help brighten her holidays.”

  Natalie slipped on her glasses and scrutinized him again. He looked the same—impeccably dressed in a dark, double-breasted suit, black hair combed straight back from a high forehead winged with heavy eyebrows, green eyes fringed with thick lashes, and a wide, generous mouth that could look either sensuous or cruel, depending on his mood.

  Natalie had had the misfortune to witness both those moods on occasion, but this new persona—showing fatherly interest, concern for a client’s elderly mother—was a side of Anthony she hadn’t seen since he had caught her on the rebound and swept her off her feet nearly seven years ago in a whirlwind courtship that had left her breathless; and almost immediately filled with regrets.

  Her ex-husband was a master of deception. He could fool most of the people most of the time, but he would never again dupe Natalie. She’d been taken in once by his lies, by his impersonation of a caring man, but she would never believe him again. Natalie knew too well what Anthony Bishop was capable of.

  She walked around the counter and faced him. “Why don’t you tell me what you really want?”

  He gave her an innocent look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Why this sudden interest in Kyle?”

  The dark eyebrows slowly rose. “I’m his father. Or had you forgotten the details of his parentage?”

  “I’m not likely to forget anything concerning my relationship with you,” she said bitterly. “But I can’t help wondering why, after all these years, you suddenly want to be a part of my son’s life.”

  “He’s a Bishop.”

  Natalie’s lips tightened but she said nothing.

  Sunlight silvered the gray at Anthony’s temples as he turned to study her. “Like it or not, Natalie, the boy’s my heir. I have certain legal and moral responsibilities toward him, which I intend to start exercising. You may as well get used to it. In fact, I’d like for him to spend the Christmas holidays with me at Fair Winds.”

  Over my dead body. Images of her first and only Christmas at the Bishop mansion raced through Natalie’s mind. She’d been a new bride—shy, insecure, and still heartbroken from a love affair gone bad. Her marriage to Anthony, who was fifteen years older than she, had been an act of haste, an impulsive, desperate decision that she had, even then, begun to regret.

  But after that week at Fair Winds, the full weight of what she had done hit her. Anthony’s cruelty—no longer masked by a warm, caring facade—his mother’s coldness and his sister’s bitter resentment of Natalie had made the holiday season almost unbearable for her that year.

  And through it all, the conspicuous absence of Anthony’s younger brother, Spencer, the Bishop Natalie had come to hate the most, had been a constant reminder of how stupid she’d been. How gullible.

  She rubbed her temples now, trying to rid herself of the dark visions dancing in her head. “There is no way I’ll let Kyle spend Christmas at Fair Winds.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Anthony wasn’t looking at her, but was gazing instead at the pine armoire in which she kept the more expensive antiques and rare collectibles. He glanced over his shoulder. “Supposing you don’t have a choice in the matter?”

  A dark premonition slipped over Natalie. She shivered in spite of the seventy-degree weather San Antonio was enjoying. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, why don’t you let the boy decide? Ask him where he wants to spend Christmas. Or…are you afraid of his answer?”

  Anthony’s taunt sent a spasm of anger shooting through Natalie, but it wasn’t quite enough to dispel the fear that had suddenly seized her. She’d been nineteen when she’d first seen the
Bishop mansion. Her own impression had been one of starkness, of a cold, sterile mausoleum completely lacking in warmth or love. But Kyle was only six years old. He could easily be swayed by the ostentatious grandeur of Fair Winds; and even more persuasive was his own sense of adventure.

  The thought of not having Kyle with her for Christmas filled Natalie with the kind of aching loneliness she hadn’t known in years. Her son meant everything to her.

  “Kyle will be with me for Christmas,” she said firmly. “And that’s final. You may see him the day before or the day after, as per the custody agreement, but on Christmas Day, he will be with me.”

  Anthony looked on the verge of arguing with her. Then, for some reason Natalie could only guess at, he merely smiled and inclined his head. “Whatever you say, Natalie. In the meantime, I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.”

  His green eyes swept her in a manner so proprietary, so intimate, Natalie felt herself blushing. Slowly, his gaze left her face to travel downward and linger where the neck of her dark red cotton sweater dipped demurely, and downward still, tracing the lines of her short pleated skirt and the black opaque stockings encasing her legs.

  When his eyes moved back up to meet her defiant gaze, Natalie felt as if she’d just been undressed—against her will. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

  “I’d like to have a closer look.”

  The deep, seductive quality of his voice startled her. “What?”

  He motioned toward a piece in the armoire, but his eyes told her he meant something else. “I’m interested in the music box. The one with Saint Nick on top.”

  Leave it to Anthony to zero in on the pièce de résistance of her collection, the one item Natalie had been hoping to keep for herself.

  “It’s an Étienne,” she explained, brushing past him to remove the delicate porcelain music box from the shelf. “An exact replica of the ones made in Paris before the war and used by the underground during the occupation to smuggle messages back and forth.” She touched a spring, cleverly concealed by the intricate design of the piece, and a hidden compartment popped out. She gave him an ironic glance. “I remember how much you love secrets.”

  He grinned. “And how much you hate them.”

  With good reason, she thought. During their short marriage, Anthony had kept a lot of things from her, but the worst had been his affair with Natalie’s best friend, the woman who was now Mrs. Anthony Bishop.

  Anthony removed the music box from Natalie’s hands. “How much is it?”

  She named a figure that was twice as much as she’d planned to ask, but she knew her ex-husband could afford it.

  He whistled, studying the music box at length. “I had no idea you could command that kind of price for a Christmas ornament.”

  “Only from my most discriminating customers,” Natalie said dryly.

  Both dark eyebrows rose at that. “Well, that’s a challenge I can hardly refuse, now, isn’t it? I presume that price includes gift wrapping?”

  “Of course.”

  “And delivery?”

  “Within the continental United States,” Natalie said. “Shall I wrap it up for you?”

  “Why not?” Anthony fished in the inside pocket of his coat and handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s the address I want you to send it to. It’s here in San Antonio, so I’d like for you to make arrangements to have it delivered today.”

  Natalie glanced up. “That’ll cost extra. I’ll have to hire a special courier.”

  Anthony shrugged. “I’ll leave the details to you. As long as my friend’s mother has her present by tonight.”

  “She will,” Natalie assured him. “Now, will this be cash?”

  He handed her a platinum credit card. When Natalie tried to take the music box from him, he nodded toward the door, where two women had just walked in. “Looks like you’re a little shorthanded today. Why don’t you go ahead and wait on your customers? I’m in no hurry.”

  Natalie could hardly believe her ears. In the old days, Anthony would have insisted on being served first. He would have thought it his due as a Bishop. Now he seemed content to browse while Natalie took care of her other customers. She didn’t quite know what to make of this new attitude.

  Something about him had changed, but then, some things never did. By the frank perusal he’d given her earlier, Natalie suspected her ex-husband still had a roving eye. She wished she could take pleasure in the knowledge that he and Melinda’s marriage seemed to have gone sour, but none of that mattered in the least to her anymore. If it wasn’t for Kyle, she would never want to see another Bishop as long as she lived.

  By the time she finished with the barrage of customers who had suddenly descended on Silver Bells, Anthony was pacing the shop impatiently. He handed her the music box and glanced at his watch.

  “I’m late for a meeting,” he said. “I won’t be able to wait for Kyle after all.”

  “But you were supposed to take him to the Spurs game tonight,” Natalie protested. Not that she wanted Anthony anywhere near her son, but she didn’t want Kyle to be disappointed, either. She didn’t want Anthony turning up in her son’s life only at his convenience.

  “I’m afraid something’s come up.” He glanced over his shoulder, toward the front of the shop. Outside, a man in a loud print shirt had stopped to study the animated Santa’s workshop scene in the display window.

  Anthony turned back to the counter. “Can you speed this up?”

  “I thought you weren’t in any hurry.”

  “Well, I am now.”

  So the old Anthony was still lurking nearby. In a way Natalie was relieved.

  Carefully, she placed the music box inside a silver carton embossed with her shop’s logo—a pair of beribboned bells—and taped the delivery address to the counter so it wouldn’t get misplaced.

  “You’re sure it’ll go out today?” Anthony asked anxiously.

  “I’ll call the courier immediately,” Natalie assured him, shoving her wire-rimmed glasses up her nose.

  “Okay.” He tapped the counter with one fist as he glanced over his shoulder again, and Natalie automatically followed his gaze. The man at the display window had moved on.

  She said, “You don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “I’m counting on that,” said Anthony.

  * * *

  AS SOON AS NATALIE had a free minute, she called the courier, then picked up the silver carton containing the music box and carried it back to her workroom. Placing it carefully on her desk, she got out several sheets of bubble wrap and removed a shipping label from her desk drawer. But before she finished, the bells outside chimed again.

  This time, the Bishop who walked through her door was one Natalie was delighted to see. Her six-year-old son came rushing in, pulling Blanche Jones behind him. Both of them were windblown and laughing.

  Blanche, one of Natalie’s closest friends, owned Blanche DuBois’s, a vintage clothing shop on the third level of the same building that housed Silver Bells. An Italian restaurant, owned by a man named Frank Delmontico, occupied the ground level.

  Blanche and Natalie had hit it off immediately, five years ago when Natalie first opened her shop, but Frank Delmontico still remained somewhat of a mystery man.

  The two women often lunched in his restaurant and speculated about his past. Natalie thought he looked like a hit man for the Mafia, but Blanche insisted his tough, swarthy looks belonged to someone who had once sailed the high seas, a merchant marine perhaps, or even a treasure hunter.

  Neither of them had ever asked him about his background, though, because Blanche, always the romantic, had said it was much more fun to create one for him. Think how disappointed they would be, she had pointed out, if he turned out to be an accountant.

  Natalie thought Blanche one of the most interesting women she’d ever met, in both personality and appearance. She was not just pretty, but intriguing. Today she wore a crocheted sweater paired with a long lace sk
irt in winter white, beneath which peeked old-fashioned, lace-up boots.

  Her thick dark hair was pulled back and held in place by an antique ivory comb her grandmother had given to her, and an exquisite cameo, tied with a satin ribbon, adorned her throat. Natalie thought that her own cotton sweater and plaid skirt must look positively drab by comparison.

  “Well, you two sure look happy,” she commented. Their laughter was contagious. The dark cloud that had been hanging over Natalie’s head since Anthony’s departure began to dispel.

  Kyle grinned from ear to ear, displaying the gap where his two adult front teeth hadn’t yet grown in. “I came in first, Mom!” he shouted, lisping a little on the word “first.” “I won the Reindeer Run! I did what you told me. I closed my eyes and pretended I really was a reindeer. And it worked! It really worked! You should have been there!”

  His excited tone contained not even a hint of censure, but Natalie felt a pang of guilt just the same. She should have been there. Being a single parent was hard enough, but owning and operating a small business spread her even thinner.

  She’d wanted to take the afternoon off to watch Kyle run, but unfortunately, she’d had two deliveries arriving that day, coupled with the fact that one of her part-time clerks had been out sick all week. Michelle, who came in after school and worked until closing, wouldn’t be in until later. This was Natalie’s busiest time of year. There was no way she could close up shop, even for an hour or so. Kyle, bless him, seemed to understand. At least as much as a six-year-old could.

  He tore off his windbreaker and puffed out his chest, proudly displaying the T-shirt he’d won.

  “See? It says First Place, Reindeer Run.” He pointed to the words, then looked up, beaming.

  “All right!” Natalie walked over and gave him a high five. Then she bent down and hugged him. “I knew you could do it. You’re fast as the wind!”

  “The fastest kid in first grade, anyway,” Blanche said.

  Kyle squinted up at Natalie. “Are you proud of me, Mom?”

  “I’m always proud of you, sweetie.” And it was true. Kyle could be a handful at times, and like his father, he had a secretive quality that could drive Natalie crazy. But most of the time, he brought her nothing but joy. Most of the time, she managed to forget that he was a Bishop.