by Lori Wilde
Her heart hammered and her breath caught. Her gaze met his and she was a goner.
The puppy, a honey-colored cocker spaniel, was caged inside the window. His big, sweet chocolate-brown eyes locked on hers.
“Oh.” She breathed, changed directions and walked back toward him. “Oh, you are too cute.”
Frantically, he wagged his tail.
In that instant Katie fell in love. How much is that doggy in the window? The song ran through her head.
You with a dog? Ha!
It was a laughable idea. She lived in a condo and was rarely home. Plus, she’d never had a pet, although she had always wanted one. She remembered begging for a puppy as a kid, but her parents had told her she was too irresponsible. She couldn’t even keep her room clean; how could they trust her to feed and walk a pet?
Katie pleaded with her mom and dad. They’d resisted. She made lavish promises. They balked. She found a stray and fed him cheesy puffs from her lunch to get him to follow her home. Their maid had called the animal shelter.
Finally, realizing how determined she was, her father had relented. He told her if she could prove she was responsible enough to take care of an animal, then she could have one. His test consisted of Katie caring for an egg as if it were a puppy.
She had to take the egg with her wherever she went, making sure never to leave it behind. Keeping track of that egg had been darned hard for an eight-year-old, but after two weeks without a misstep, she was picking out names for her puppy.
Then on the last day, Katie ran to greet her father at the front door as he returned home from work, the egg clutched in her hand. In her excitement, she’d tripped and fallen. Splattering the egg across the foyer in a vivid yellow splash of yolk.
She’d been inconsolable. Her parents were right. She was too irresponsible for a puppy.
Her stern yet loving father didn’t hold the accidental egg smash against her. He’d taken her to the nearest pet store and let her pick out the dog of her choice.
She had selected an exuberant cocker spaniel exactly like this one. Same honey-colored coat, same chocolate-brown eyes. She had named the puppy Duke. It had been the happiest day of her eight-year-old life.
Then she’d gotten Duke home and Brooke had immediately started sneezing. Her sister sneezed all through the weekend, her eyes swelling up, and her nose running. Daisy had taken Brooke to the doctor the next day and they’d returned home with the news that Brooke was highly allergic to dogs.
Katie had been forced to give Duke away. Even now, sixteen years later, she still felt the awful punch to her stomach when she thought about it.
“Hey, little guy,” she cooed, and crouched down to the puppy’s eye level and put her hand to the window front. He tried to lick her fingers, his pink tongue rubbing wetly against the glass.
From past experience, she knew that if she scooped him up in her arms his fur would feel soft as doll hair and he’d lick her face until she ended up on the floor giggling breathlessly while he nibbled at her ears.
Her stomach clutched. A mixture of emotions melded inside her—tenderness, regret and lingering irritation with her sister Brooke’s allergies because she had been forced to miss out on the joys of puppy ownership. Petty maybe, but it was how she felt.
You could have a puppy now.
No, it was too late to relive her childhood. There was no room in her busy life for a dog. Maybe someday, but not now.
“Gotta go,” she whispered, rising to her feet and waving goodbye. “There’s a party waiting and I’ve got a gorgeous man to seduce.”
The puppy whimpered and the wagging of his tail slowed. He sensed she was about to leave him.
“It’s better this way, truly. You wouldn’t be happy at my place. You’d be cooped up all day by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m only thinking of your best interest.”
The cocker spaniel stared at her with his big, adoring eyes.
Her heart ripped. This was silly. What was the matter with her? Getting sentimental over a dog. He was adorable. Someone else would buy him. She had no reason to feel guilty.
But somehow, she did.
She had to shake this feeling, had to shrug off the sadness weighing down her shoulders. Had to stop thinking about her mother and Duke, the puppy she’d only had for a weekend, and Tanisha’s eerily accurate assessment of her.
Fun.
That was what she needed. A strong drink, loud music, a roomful of people dressed in colorful costumes.
And a man to seduce who wouldn’t look at her in the morning the way this puppy was looking at her now.
Head down, she rushed away, trying her very best to outpace the mental demons with which she had no desire to wrestle. She was going to that party and she wasn’t about to let anyone or anything keep her from seducing her pirate.
2
FOR MOST of his adult life, Liam James had been all about the job. Nothing mattered more to him than the real-estate company he’d built from the ground up and molded into a multimillion-dollar empire by the time he was thirty.
He loved his work and excelled in a crisis. It was the worrying beforehand and afterwards that did him in. He was always on the lookout for trouble. And in an odd way he was relieved when it came.
Troubleshooting was what he knew. Lack of trouble made him uneasy. Edgy anticipation. That was his true nemesis. It threw him off his game.
And he was feeling edgy tonight.
Especially since he was dressed in this ridiculous Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow costume. By the time he’d made it over to the costume-rental place, this was the only disguise left in his size. He’d already spotted three other Jack Sparrows at the party. Apparently the costume-supply companies had gone overboard on the pirate theme this year.
“What the hell am I doing here?” he muttered under his breath, and scanned the collected crowd at the Ladies League charity masquerade party.
The expensively decorated ballroom was filled with ultrathin, cosmetically enhanced women and self-important, overfed rich men in lavish costumes. The kind of highbrow shindig Liam loathed.
The question was rhetorical. He already knew the answer.
He was here to get an up close and personal look at the man whose seed had spawned him. The man who’d never acknowledged him, nor sent his mother one penny of child support beyond the three hundred dollars he had thrown at her thirty-two years ago, when he’d told her to get an abortion.
That man was Boston’s incumbent mayor, Finn Delancy. Who was up for reelection and was pegged to win it by a landslide.
For years, Liam had imagined this meeting. The moment when he introduced himself and told him, “Thanks for nothing, you worthless son of a bitch. My mother and I made it fine without you. And FYI, blue blood or not, I can buy and sell your ass three times over.”
But now that he was here, and it was the moment of truth, Liam wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it.
The mayor wore a cowboy costume—ten gallon hat, spurs that jangled, leather chaps, the whole nine yards. He looked utterly foolish but that didn’t stop a bevy of beautiful young women from collecting around him like bargain shoppers to a fire sale.
According to Liam’s mother, Jeanine, Finn had more sexual charisma than Bill Clinton and JFK all rolled into one. He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands. Personally, he couldn’t see the appeal.
“Something the matter, boss?” asked Liam’s right-hand man, Tony Gregory. Tony was dressed as one of the band members from KISS and damn if he didn’t look seriously freaky. Not at all like his normal affable self. “You seem uptight.”
Liam gave a sharp shake of his head. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“So tell me again why I’m here?” Tony cocked his head and sent Liam an assessing gaze.
“My date and I decided it was better if we just stayed friends, so she’s not coming tonight. I had the extra ticket.” He couldn’t really call her his girlfriend. They’d only gone out a few times. “There�
��s no sense letting two hundred dollars go to waste.”
What he didn’t tell his most trusted confidant was that he badly needed moral support. Willingly admitting a weakness wasn’t something he did, not even to himself. He’d known Tony since their days at Harvard School of Business, but he’d never told him his deepest secret—that he was the bastard son of one of the most influential men in Boston high society.
“You lost another one?” Tony whistled. “Damn, and I really liked Brooke.”
“Don’t worry. We’re still friends.”
“What the hell do you do to chase off so many chicks? You’re rich, good-looking and you bathe regularly. Why don’t any of them stick around for more than a few dates? What gives?”
“I have a low tolerance for the frivolous,” Liam said, narrowing his eyes at Finn Delancy, who had just planted a kiss on the hand of a giggling starlet.
“You’re a workaholic is what you are, and women hate coming second to a man’s career.”
“True enough.”
“Did you like her?”
“Of course I liked her.”
“But you didn’t like her enough to make an effort to keep her?”
“We both realized we’re too much alike. And while Brooke is very pretty, there was no strong sexual spark between us. Plus, she told me she needed a man who could give her his undivided attention and I’m sorry—” he shrugged “—that’s not me. Work always comes first.”
Tony stared at him, mouth dropping open in amazement. “So…you’ve never been in love.”
Liam shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest. “What makes you say that?”
“When a woman gets under your skin fully and completely, then you’ll willingly give up everything to be with her.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” Tony nodded sagely, his ebony KISS wig bobbing about his shoulders.
“If that’s your definition of love, then I’m glad I’ve never been there.”
“It’s how I feel about Jess. She’s the most important thing in the world to me,” he said, an ardent expression on his face. “Nothing comes before her. Ever.”
“Not even your job as my VP?”
“Nope.” Tony shook his head.
“You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
“Still? Even after five years of marriage?”
“She fascinates me more each day. She’s my lover, my companion, my best friend.”
Liam snorted in disbelief. It was sad, but true. He’d never been in love, had never met any woman who fascinated him more than his work.
Although, he’d thought he was in love once, during his sophomore year in college, with Arianna Baxter, a high-society beauty. They’d been study partners, and he’d hoped for more but never had the courage to ask her out. Her family was so wealthy, and he was so poor. Then she’d invited him to a lavish sorority party and his hopes had soared. Except when he got there, he discovered the joke was on him. It was a “pauper party,” where the sorority sisters dared each other to bring the poorest, most socially unacceptable guy they could find. The kicker was that Arianna won first prize for bringing him.
“How come you keep staring at Mayor Delaney?” Tony asked.
“I’m thinking maybe I should go introduce myself to him.”
“He’ll just hit you up for a campaign contribution,” Tony remarked.
I’d love the chance to tell him where he could stick his request for money.
“He can ask. I don’t have to give it.”
Tony glanced over his shoulder at the mayor. “You’ve got your competition cut out for you, dude. Delancy’s surrounded.”
“Yeah, but I’ll figure it out. Get to schmoozing, Gregory. We’re here for the business contacts.”
“Actually, I came for the free food. Much as I love her, my Jess isn’t much of a cook.”
“So schmooze the buffet. I’ll catch up with you later,” Liam said, and then started across the crowded room, his glare beaded on the mayor.
The closer he got, the harder his heart thumped. This was the man who’d charmed Liam’s seventeen-year-old mother, bedded her, and then left her pregnant and heart-broken. He’d denied his paternity and waltzed glibly back to his wife. All the old resentment that had been seething in Liam since childhood fisted into a knot of pure hatred.
Revenge. The dish best served cold.
And he was about to dine.
Liam had the speech prepared. He had been practicing it over and over in his head for years. Waiting for the moment when his financial success eclipsed Finn Delancy’s. Waiting for the slam dunk. The one thing he’d never envisioned was giving his speech dressed as a pirate, but what the hell? It seemed fitting.
Every bigwig in Boston—not to mention a nice collection of reporters from the media—was in attendance at the party. His goal was to shame and embarrass the hell out of Delancy in the most public of forums.
And the Ladies League ball—the biggest charity event of the social season—definitely qualified. Determined to see this thing through, Liam reached for the document burning a hole in the back pocket of his black leather Jack Sparrow pants.
It was his birth certificate.
“Mayor Delancy,” Liam said and thrust himself through the circle of women surrounding his father.
Delancy swung his gaze around to fix on him. The man’s eyes were the same color of hazel as Liam’s own. They also shared the same jawline—strong, hard, resolute. “What can I do for you, son?”
Son.
The word hung in the air weighed with a meaning only Liam understood. But soon, very soon, Finn Delancy would understand it, as well, and so would his enamored constituents. What would they think of their illustrious leader then?
“For you,” Liam ground out, and thrust the folded birth certificate at Delancy. He had to clench his teeth to keep his emotions in check so that his hand wouldn’t tremble and give away his barely cloaked rage.
Delancy stared at him a moment, clearly confused. The celebutante at the mayor’s elbow tittered for no discernable reason. Liam stood there with the folded piece of paper held outstretched at arm’s length.
“Oh,” Delancy blinked. “Gotcha.”
The hell you do. I’m the one who’s got you.
Delancy reached in the front pocket of his cowboy vest. Going for his reading glasses? Liam guessed.
But the mayor did not extract a reading-glass case. Rather, he pulled out an expensive ballpoint pen and accepted the folded document.
“Turn around,” the mayor said.
“What?”
“Turn around?”
Liam was so surprised by the request he found himself complying and felt Delancy rest the birth certificate against his shoulder blade, using his back as a support while he scrawled something on the paper.
What the hell?
“Here you go,” Delancy said, proudly.
Liam turned back around, his shoulder tingling from the touch of the man he’d hated for more years than he could count. Delancy slapped the birth certificate into his palm as two burly bodyguards stepped forward.
“Mayor,” said bodyguard number one, “your limousine has arrived.”
“Excuse me.” Delancy flashed Liam an artificial smile. “I have another engagement.”
Bodyguard Number Two took the mayor by the elbow and led him away through the crowd. At the same time Bodyguard Number One gave his arm to the celebutante. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out with whom the mayor would be spending the rest of the evening.
Confused by what had just happened, Liam stared down at the folded birth certificate in his hand.
There, written in Delancy’s shaky scrawl were words that sent shame, anger, embarrassment and hatred shooting through Liam’s veins.
It’s always nice to meet a fan. Best wishes, Finn Delancy.
Liam’s lungs constricted, and he found it hard to breathe. His hand was trembling now fro
m pure rage that no amount of teeth clenching could abate.
An autograph!
The low-life, egotistical, jackass had just autographed his illegitimate son’s birth certificate.
By the time Katie arrived at the Hightower mansion where this year’s Ladies League masquerade ball was being held, the crowd was at maximum capacity. Even in three-inch stilettos, she still had to stand on tiptoe to see above the costumed throng packed into the foyer and snaking out through the grand hallway.
Waiters squeezed through the mob, balancing silver trays laden with flutes of fizzy champagne. The music was so loud she could barely think, and the hum of hundreds of voices was even louder.
Where was Richard?
For one brief moment, she thought about going home, but then quickly reconsidered, recalling how much money she’d spent on this seduction. She reached for a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and took a big swallow to ward off her building nervousness.
The decadently arousing song “Ooh La La” by the British group Goldfrapp came over the speakers, oozing glam sex with a throbbing bass. She found herself twitching her hips in time to the seductive tune and scanning the crowd for anyone she knew.
But the disguises had done their jobs. She recognized no one. Feeling giddy at the weirdness of all her friends looking like strangers, she finished off the champagne and set her empty glass on a nearby table.
Body tingling with taboo sensations, Katie winnowed around Spider-Man chatting up Cleopatra, slipped past Mickey Mantle talking about the New England Patriots with Elvis Presley and then put a hand to her waist-long auburn wig to make sure it was still on straight.
The eyeholes of the wide mask that covered more than half her face were too narrow and she was having problems seeing much of anything in her peripheral vision. It was stifling hot, even though there wasn’t much to her costume, with so many people sardined into the room.
She looked for a side exit. Maybe Richard had stepped outside for some fresh air. It might take her an hour to find him in this madhouse.
Disheartened, she settled her shoulder against the doorjamb leading into the room where the buffet was laid out. The next time another waiter circled in front of her, she reached for a second glass of champagne.
