As she discussed the wine selection with the waiter, she leaned toward the young man. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs as they talked, and Lucas wondered if she was doing it on purpose to drive him out of his mind.
Could you try not to touch me, please.
He tossed several Altoids into his mouth and chewed them with a vengeance. Those words made him want to touch her all the more. He’d start with those long legs of hers. He recalled how they felt cinched around his waist, and his groin tightened from the mere thought. Then he’d yank the pins out of that skein of hair so he could run his fingers through her long tresses.
He’d then focus on her moist lips. She knew how to use them, that’s for sure. She could suck the skin off—
Jeez. He ran a hand over his head and shifted in the chair. The woman still had him by the balls. He wanted to smash something. Maybe the vase on the table next to him. Or better yet, the table.
“And you, sir, what can I get for you?” the waiter asked with a pleasant smile.
“He’s not—”
“Vodka. Straight.” He pulled out his wallet and handed the young man a credit card. He had a feeling he’d need more than one drink. “Start a tab.”
The waiter walked away with the card in hand.
“You didn’t have to do that. I can get my own drinks.”
“I know you can, and get mine, too. But I’m a Southern man, and I won’t dine with a lady and have her pay for me. Nor will I allow her to pay for herself.”
“You’re still touting those old-fashioned ideas, Lucas?” she asked, smoothing the lines of her skirt. His eyes followed the movement. Even her knees were cute. He imagined pulling them apart and kissing her skin—from her knees up the silken length of her thigh to…heaven.
Lucas shifted again and searched for the waiter. Where the hell was he with that drink?
“Your ideas are outdated in today’s society,” Ivy said.
He returned his attention to her. “My mama taught me to be a gentleman, and being a gentleman never goes out of style. You know she’d hit me upside my head if I even thought about letting you cover the bill.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. She must have thought about the same thing. Mama Katherine had been half his size, but she never let him intimidate her. She never let anyone intimidate her, for that matter. A thin rail of a woman, she had a tongue sharper than a razor’s edge and would get up in his face to give him a piece of her mind if she thought he was getting out of line. She hadn’t been able to have kids of her own, but her house had been filled with children for decades. She didn’t just take in foster kids—she sought out the most troubled ones, the older kids, the ones nobody else wanted and showered them with love and copious amounts of discipline should they need it.
Almost as quickly as the smile appeared on Ivy’s face, it disappeared. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I want Katie to know I’m her father.”
“No.” The answer came swift and hard.
“What do you mean, no?” He sat up. He hadn’t known what to expect, but her answer surprised him.
“You don’t want to do this.”
“I know what I want. I don’t need you to explain it to me.”
“Why the change?” she asked.
“Because she’s my flesh and blood, that’s why. Because it’s the right thing to do.” Did he really need to explain this to her?
The waiter arrived with Ivy’s wine and his vodka. She lifted the glass to her lips and gulped down half of it.
She set the glass on the table with a measured motion. “And then what? When you get tired of the role—which we both know you will—you get to disappear? I don’t think so. You live in Atlanta, we live here. It’s not as if we’d run into each other.”
“I’m not going to beg you to recognize my parental rights.”
“There’s no proof she’s your daughter.”
Lucas sat back. “That’s your story now? We both know she is. You wouldn’t have told me she was if she wasn’t, so cut the bullshit.” He took a sip of his vodka and watched her over the rim of the tumbler. “I can play hard ball, Ivy, if that’s what you prefer. It seems first you kidnapped my sperm and now you want to hold my daughter hostage.”
Her eyes widened. “I did not kidnap your sperm!” she said in a fierce whisper.
As far as he was concerned, there was no other way to describe what she’d done. “What would you call it?”
“You handed it over.”
“Not willingly. The condom broke and you took what didn’t belong to you.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
She took a swallow of wine and pressed a hand to her forehead. He watched her dispassionately, insanely pleased she was beginning to unravel a little bit. At least he wasn’t the only one who felt out of sorts.
“Lucas, we both know this isn’t something you want. You’ve made it very clear that you never want to be married and you don’t want kids. It’s even in your book.”
“You read my book?”
“Cover to cover. Very enlightening.”
Her confession surprised him. “Did you read the part about a man’s rights? A father’s rights?”
“Yes, and according to your book, a man has a right to know. Well, you do now, and there’s nothing else for you to do.” She had it all figured out.
“Oh, there’s plenty for me to do. For instance,” he leaned forward, one hand on his knee holding the glass of liquor, “I could go to the press and spill the beans about this whole cover up. How the heiress to the Johnson fortune hid the illegitimate birth of her daughter from the biological father and allowed another man to raise his daughter without his knowledge. And how even now she denies him access to his child.”
Her family shunned publicity and guarded their privacy with incomparable ferocity. What would she do to prevent a scandal?
Ivy stilled and heat flooded her body, but she immediately rejected his threat. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” Unyielding hardness filled his face.
She sipped her wine. She would need another glass soon. “I’m not proud of what I did, but I don’t regret my decision.”
“I didn’t think you would. I imagine it’s not the Johnson way to have regrets.” He waited. “What will it be?” Now he was the one pushing her for an answer.
Her gaze swept the interior of the lounge as she weighed her answer. “You can see her, but you can’t tell her who you are yet.”
“Not gonna happen. We’re telling her.”
Her gaze fell back on him. “I don’t know your intentions.”
“My intentions are to get to know my daughter.”
“One minute you don’t want a child, and the next you do? I’m supposed to believe you’re all in?”
“I changed my mind. It’s a man’s prerogative. Just like it was your prerogative not to take that pill.”
His words stung.
No matter what he thought, the choice she made hadn’t been an easy one. She’d planned to take it. Had gone so far as to stop at the pharmacy and bought one of the more popular brands, bearing the looks from the attendant at the cash register, picking up a few extra items—a magazine, deodorant, candy—as if somehow they would make the package invisible.
She’d opened the box in her bedroom, but at the last minute didn’t go through with it. She could prevent the pregnancy or…what if she didn’t? What if she simply allowed nature to take its course? She’d made her decision right then that she wouldn’t do it. No matter the circumstances, she would handle the fallout of a baby. If her parents wanted to send her away for a while, she would go. She had considered leaving for their property in Nice, or the beach house in Hawaii, but neither trip had been necessary because Winston had proposed.
Now Lucas was boxing her into a corner. First he hadn’t want this child, now he did, and he had the audacity to threaten her with a scandal.
“Fine, Lucas, I’ll do wha
t you want, but I don’t like it.”
He smiled, but it was more of a sneer. “Of course. Protect the family name at all costs.”
He seemed so angry she doubted the rancor directed at her was solely due to keeping Katie a secret. Was there something else? “What happened to you?” she asked.
His eyes bored into her. “You happened to me. You and your lies about love and your goddamn deceit.”
His accusation flew out of left field. “I never lied to you about my feelings. I cared about you very much, once, but you left, remember? So what the hell difference does it make?” Again she had the distinct impression that he wasn’t telling her everything.
“You loved me so much you didn’t think twice about marrying another man less than two months after we broke up? A man who, according to the article I read, you were secretly engaged to. High school sweethearts.”
“You saw that?” He would have been in Asia at the time. Her marriage had been a mere blip in the society pages, only newsworthy because of the blending of two powerful families—the Johnsons with their wealth and the Somersets, part of a political dynasty. Certainly nothing that would make international news.
“Yeah, I saw that,” Lucas said. He banged the empty tumbler on the table between them. “Are we going to play by my rules now, or do I start shouting from the mountain top? We both know you can deliver a good scandal.”
Her face burned with remembered shame. “You’ve turned into a cold-hearted bastard. You didn’t have to go there.” His reference to her youthful indiscretion cut deep. A poor decision had gone terribly awry. She’d shared the story with Lucas in an intimate moment alone, and she resented him bringing it up now. “You win,” she said.
“Damn straight.”
“But you have to be sure. I’ve spent my entire life protecting her and giving her as normal a life as possible. She didn’t ask to be born into this family, and I’ve done everything I can to shield her.” There were no photos of Katie in circulation, and except for when she was born her name had never been mentioned in articles about the family or the business. “Being a parent takes time and care, and it’s not an easy job. You said you didn’t want children, and I took you at your word. If you come into her life, you don’t get to change your mind.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“You better make sure you want this, because if you hurt my baby, you’ll live to regret it.”
His brows drew together. “Are you threatening me?”
Ivy leaned forward. “You know those billions you said I could have used to find you? If you hurt my daughter, if I have to, I will use every last one of them to make your life a living hell.”
Chapter Nine
Seconds ticked by as their gazes fused together.
“And you think I’ve changed?” Lucas said with a raised brow. He looked somewhat amused at her threat, almost as if he relished her outburst.
His reaction infuriated her. “We won’t have any problems as long as we both know where we stand.”
A sardonic smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Message received loud and clear.”
“Good.” She ignored how even such a small movement of his lips made her pulse trip and finished her wine. “I’m ready to go.”
They stood and the waiter rushed over. Lucas paid for the drinks and Ivy slipped ahead of him, but from the corner of her eye she caught his hand lifting, as if he was about to place it to her lower back again. Tensed, she swung around, but he’d stopped himself.
“Old habits die hard,” he explained in his lazy drawl, “but don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you don’t want me to touch you.” A muscle in his jaw flexed.
Without a word Ivy turned back around and marched ahead of him, wishing she could outrun the torrent of emotions that gripped her. It was hard as hell to maintain a frosty outward appearance when her entire body burned with the heat of a furnace. She had to stop imagining him doing things to her, such as dragging his tongue up the length of her back, or gently biting her neck, or—heaven help her—sucking on her collarbone.
They entered the elevator in silence, he in one corner, she in the other. Between them an older couple who’d come in behind them spoke quietly to each other. On the fifth floor the couple exited and left her and Lucas alone.
“Makes me wonder, though,” Lucas said in a conversational tone.
Ivy flicked her gaze to him. He looked mighty smug over there, with his hands stuffed into his pockets, watching her. “What are you talking about?”
He walked over and stopped mere inches away. Her stomach clenched, her reaction to him impulsive and ingrained on a cellular level.
Lucas rested his shoulder against the wall and looked down at her, one of the few men who could when she wore heels. “I can’t help but wonder why you don’t want me to touch you.” His gaze traced her shape, a bold perusal that made her skin prickle.
“There’s no why, I simply don’t. Is it really so hard for you to believe?” She averted her eyes to the numbers lighting up as they ascended the hotel tower. She prayed for a faster climb so she could escape the confining cabin. “I’m sorry I’m not falling all over you like I did nine years ago. It must be terribly disappointing.”
He dipped his head to her ear, and every muscle fiber tightened at his nearness. His scent filled the air around her, a woodsy fragrance with base notes of sandalwood. She clenched her purse as she fought the temptation to brush her cheek against his to test the texture of his beard. If she moved her head even a fraction to the right, they’d touch.
“What’s disappointing,” he said softly, “is seeing you do such a poor acting job.”
Ivy stared straight ahead. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more arrogant than you were before, but you’ve exceeded my expectations.”
He laughed, his breath a whisper against the shell of her ear, sending tiny tremors racing down her spine. “It’s not arrogance, Ivy. I happen to be able to read body language, and darlin’, based on yours, I’d say you’re as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” He flashed his teeth at her, and she desperately wanted to slap the grin off his face.
She was still debating whether or not to do it when the doors opened. “We’re here,” she said pointedly.
He stepped back and allowed her to lead the way to her condo. Inside, on her own turf, her confidence bolstered, and when her daughter rushed to her from the table where she and Janelle had been working on a crossword puzzle, her mouth lifted into a smile.
Katie peered up at Lucas. “Hi. You’re the writer.”
“That’s right,” he said.
Ivy dismissed Janelle, and after catching up with her daughter about her day, she steered Katie into the living room and they sat on the sofa beside each other.
Lucas sat catty-cornered from them in an overstuffed chair, and he ran his palms down his pants. They’d grown sweaty watching his daughter and Ivy interact.
Katie pushed her glasses up on her nose and looked from one to the other. “Am I in trouble?” she asked.
“No,” Ivy said. “You’re not in any trouble, but I—we—have something to tell you.”
His daughter’s expression changed as he and Ivy explained that he was her father. She looked confused, and rightly so. It was hard for him to comprehend he had a child, and clearly hard for her to understand how she could have another father. For her entire life she’d believed one man to be her father, and now she was told a complete stranger was. The guy she’d met in the building where her mother worked.
“Your first dad took care of you while Lucas was away. Now he’s back, and he can be your father the same way Winston was.”
“So I have two dads?” Katie asked.
“Something like that,” Lucas interjected. “But I’m your real dad.” He wanted to make that clear.
“Oh.” She still appeared confused, and she looked at her mother, seeking guidance.
Ivy placed a hand on her dau
ghter’s slender shoulders. “He wants to get to know you and spend time with you,” she explained. “Would that be okay?”
Katie’s lower lip quivered and her shoulders curled forward. With a vehement shake of her head, she said, “No. My daddy’s dead and I don’t want another daddy!”
“Katie!”
The little girl—his daughter—raced off down the hall toward the bedrooms. With an apologetic look in his direction, Ivy hurried after her.
Lucas sat there, dumbfounded. He was still getting used to the idea of being her father, but deep down he’d hoped she’d be excited and maybe fling her arms around him. Because that’s what he’d wanted to do—sweep her up in his arms in a big hug and start bonding right away.
When she re-entered the room, Ivy appeared embarrassed. She had the same apologetic expression on her face as before and waved her hand vaguely, struggling to find the right words.
Lucas didn’t give her a chance to speak. “She doesn’t want to come back,” he said.
She shook her head, pity in her eyes, and he hated it. “We should take it slow. This is new for all of us.”
He nodded his understanding and rose from the chair. Ivy escorted him to the front door.
“Give her time,” she said quietly. “She’ll warm up to you once she gets to know you better.”
Lucas had his doubts, but this setback wouldn’t stop him from being a part of Katie’s life. “I’m not giving up,” he said. “I’ll be back tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.”
Having Katie accept him as her father would become his focus. It hadn’t occurred to him she wouldn’t want him in her life, and he hadn’t expected rejection could cut so deeply.
Chapter Ten
At the desk in his hotel room, Lucas stared at the computer screen. His advice column was due to Essence in a couple of days, but he wasn’t in the mood to answer questions.
Dear Lucas,
My boyfriend and I have been living together for three years. He’s perfect in every way, but whenever I mention marriage, he clams up. I don’t understand it. We get along well and we share everything. We live together, for goodness’ sake! He says we don’t need a piece of paper and why fix what isn’t broken. I think I can change his mind, but my best friend thinks I’m a fool and I’m wasting my time with him. I believe love is worth fighting for. What do you think?
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