“Court.”
The weariness in Randi’s voice came through the phone, but he had no room to worry about it. Couldn’t worry about it, or he’d start wondering if Doyle was there and if he were the reason for her fatigue. Or he’d worry that she might be slipping into a deep, dark hole. No, he had to convince her to come to him, and if it required bribery and tough love, then so be it. Not to mention, he really wanted her here, and he wasn’t above taking advantage of the situation with their daughter.
“You’re the one who extended an open invitation to Birdie,” Randi continued right over his paranoia and justifications. “I’m persona non grata at the moment. I don’t know what I said to her, but the last week of school, she quit talking to me again, so you get to be the hero. If you’ve changed your mind about spending time with your daughter, then you need to tell her. Lay down the law. She has a choice—straighten up or pack up. You don’t have to tolerate bad behavior.”
“That’s just the thing, darling girl, she isn’t behaving any worse than her grandmother. Underneath it all, they seem to actually like each other, and Birdie’s the only one who can get Mum to do her exercises, but heaven forbid they admit it out loud. It’s downright terrifying.” Truly, he found it somewhat endearing as he hadn’t expected his mother to speak to Birdie, much less let her take over as caregiver. Mum might never get to the hearts and flowers stage with Birdie, but Birdie was earning the old woman’s respect. Now, if the rest of them could live through it…
“I can’t do a thing about it, Court. You’re a parent, surely you have some idea how to resolve these situations.”
“I haven’t a clue, love. I need you, Randi.” There, he’d admitted weakness. Blast it all, this was a woman’s domain, and he was man enough to admit he needed her.
The heaviness of her sigh weighed down his heart. “Typical. The flood waters rise up to their ankles, and men start screaming they’re drowning.”
“Sure, scoff all you want, you’ve got peace and quiet for the holidays. I’ve got high court drama with the princess challenging the dowager. I need you, the queen, to intercede and put them both in their places. Please, Randi. You’ve got me begging here. I’ll do anything. I’ll buy first class tickets. I’ll buy a Rolls and liveried driver to meet you at the airport. I’ll buy you all the diamonds, furs, and silks we never got the chance to buy in New…” The words dried up as an unseen hand clenched around his throat.
So far, she’d carefully dodged this topic. Something still bugged her, some detail she held back. If only he could get her to spit it out. If only he could get her to explain Doyle’s presence, leaving with her and later, answering her phone.
Silence, heavy with unspoken accusations, stretched out across the satellite link until she spoke. “Did it ever occur to you I went to New York to be with you, not because I wanted a sugar daddy, Court?” Randi said so softly he barely heard her. “I don’t want your money. I didn’t want your money or pricey gifts in New York. I certainly hope you don’t deal with Birdie by throwing money at her.”
Surprise, so strong he straightened up, hit him like a fist between the eyes. “Is that what you think—thought?” The completely foreign concept as it applied to Randi stunned him to speechlessness.
“Court…” Randi sighed. “No, you don’t get it, and if you don’t understand it, then I certainly can’t explain it to you.”
“No, no, no, no, no.” He pounded a fist on the mantel. “You do not get to throw out lines like that. No way. I don’t accept it. You don’t know what I do or don’t understand. You’ll have to spell it out for me. I’m not a bloody mind reader, especially from ten thousand miles away.”
“And you don’t know what I do or don’t want from you.”
“Do you even know? I know what I want from you, and it isn’t purely sex.” Though, if he had to admit it, the sex was spectacular enough to almost be a good enough reason in and of itself.
“You could have fooled me. I don’t want to be bought off with credit cards and fancy trips as if I were the flavor of the week! Just one more of your quote-unquote professional girlfriends. Or do you call them escorts? Surely they weren’t merely dates.”
Okay, he’d wanted her to spill it. It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected, however, she didn’t sound depressed anymore. Anger was good, right? Anger was better than cold indifference and apathy. For the first time in weeks he felt energized and smiled into the phone. Finally, a breakthrough. Now, what the bloody hell was she going on about?
“A professional girlfriend? Did I treat you like a call girl? Is that what you thought? Is that why you left?”
“It’s only one reason why I left. I understood you had business, and that’s okay. But we were wrong to try and mix a pleasure trip with your business trip. I wouldn’t have minded waiting around for you if I’d thought I wasn’t just another Catherine waiting in your bed for you to have time to notice me. I would have stayed if I’d been sure…”
How could she ever think he considered her a casual woman? He knew he’d screwed up the week, but to make her feel disposable when she was anything but? Completely bewildered, he shook his head. “Sure of what? My affections? My God, I didn’t invite you just so I could have a bedmate for the week. I thought I’d been clear about my feelings for you. If you’d stayed just fifteen minutes longer, the business was done, and I had plans to make up for all the time I didn’t mean to leave you on your own. Randi, I wanted you there because I love being with you. I meant for us to never be separated again.”
Not a word from Randi, but he’d almost swear on a stack of bibles she was crying. He’d already gotten the message about the credit cards being a mistake. The few purchases she had made hadn’t been on his cards. Had she really thought he’d been trying to pay her for sex? He felt like the lowest dog in the alley, but he’d sparked an emotional response from her. That had to mean something, and it gave him the faintest glimmer of hope.
“Granted,”—he kept speaking, hoping he’d stumble on the right combination of words to break this numbing deadlock—“just as you were driving away I got word of my mother’s accident, but I would have brought you home with me. I wouldn’t have sent you back to California. I’d counted on New York as a stepping stone to London. I fully intended to ease you around the world, and back into my life, step by step.”
He heard the muffled sound of her blowing her nose.
“Darling, won’t you tell me what happened? What sent you running for home?”
Silence from her end frightened him into believing she’d set the phone down and didn’t hear the last question. A louder sniffle came across the line. No, she was still there. He went for broke.
“Please, Randi. Please come for Christmas. We’ll talk about everything and sort things out. If you don’t come here, I’m going there. Or I’ll send the dowager and the princess. Yeah, maybe that’s the better option. It would give the rest of us the nice, peaceful country Christmas we’re all counting on. You’re used to earthquakes out there. This will be nothing to you.”
Finally, she laughed, if only a little. “Oh, no, you don’t. You keep them. You invited her; she’s your daughter. You deal with her. If you must send anyone, send Drew. Him I can deal with. All I have to do is feed him and let him watch football. And the way he’s claimed his sunning spot in the backyard, well, that keeps all the neighbor girls happy, which in turn keeps him well occupied.”
He could see her point. Drew’s California tan and sun streaked hair had proved popular at home. “If you want to see Drew, you’ll have to come here. He’s rediscovered a filly in the village. She’s home for the holidays as well, and he’s trying to talk her into transferring to Stanford.” If Court had to use the lad as bait to get Randi to fly around the world, he had no shame.
“Oh Lord.” Randi finally chuckled. “A harem in every port, that one. A case of the apple not falling far from the tree.”
How had she picked up on his apple t
ree analogy? “Nope. Not buying your analysis. Not a case of like father like son, there, you know.”
“No? You say so, but Martha had a different story to tell.”
Ah damn, and the distant, cool voice returned.
“Well, Martha has moved on. I fired her for trying to shag the boss.” And a few other things he’d find out about just as soon as they unlocked her bloody computer.
“What? But you told her to make arrangements to send me home. You even told me to go home. I couldn’t understand much else about our last call that day, but those very words certainly came through loud and clear! Fiske even heard the words.”
“What?” It was his turn to be confused. “I never said any such thing.” Damn cell connection. Good thing he’d trashed that phone. From now on, he’d buy the latest in cellular technology on an annual basis. Every six months if he had to. “What I said, and you obviously didn’t hear, was along the lines of I’d told Martha to make reservations for dinner at the Russian Tea Room, and I’d ordered both her and Larry to go home.”
“But—no!” She gasped on the other side of the world. “I distinctly heard ‘go home’ but not much of the rest. Only that we’d talk later…”
Angry at the miscommunication and her interpretation of it, he almost didn’t hear the hiccup that sounded like a sob. Was this it? The final straw? First neglecting her, then having a garbled conversation completely misconstrued?
The anger drained away in an instant. “Aw, Jeannie, darling, no, no, no.” No wonder she’d run. Hell. Wound finally lanced, he felt as if his heart bled straight onto the hearth before him. It hurt, but he also knew they’d just turned the corner. This he could work with. “I never wanted you to go home, not without me firmly attached to your hip.” And his ring on her finger. Bloody Hell! However, this he could fix. “No, darling, Martha is gone. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you, don’t know what she told you—”
“She told me you wanted her to make my flight arrangements. She said you had to fly out later that night and wanted me gone. Like this was routine for her, getting rid of your woman of the week.”
“Darling, nothing could be further from the truth! I wanted her and Larry gone so we could do all the things I’d promised. You’d been so patient with me. I was a cad; I wanted to make it up to you.”
For long moments, the only sounds were Randi’s soft sobs and the crackling of the fire at his feet. He hated the distance between them and cursed the miles. If she were here, they’d already be in bed, making things right. All these weeks wasted because of a colossal miscommunication. A few garbled words that changed his world.
“Darling, please,” he pleaded. “Come for Christmas. Come today. I want you here. I never wanted to be apart for even one minute.”
“I’d decided the past held too much old baggage. I’d figured we’d had just another, shorter fling, and returned to our corners of the world.”
“We were never a fling, Jeannie, not even in the beginning. It was never a fling between us. Never.” Anger that she couldn’t seem to grasp that one crucial fact seethed in him once more, burying the anguish for a moment. His clenched fist landed on the hard marble of the mantel. “If you get nothing else straight in your head, get this straight right now. I didn’t want to say it on the phone, but darling, I love you. I need you. I want you. Right here, beside me always.”
After a sigh filled with exasperation, she softly said, “Oh Court…” Hiccups and what sounded like either laughter or tears—he’d bet tears—filled the connection for several heartbeats. Finally, she quieted enough to ask, “So Martha is really gone? You really were blind to her attempts at seduction? It’s what she’d implied, that she’d been sleeping with you, and…and…”
“Pure fabrication and solely on her part.” He, not so softly, uttered a salty curse. “Jeannie—Randi, I never once slept with her; I swear to you. I didn't even realize how much she looked like you until you pointed it out. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I tried to find everywhere I looked and not one female on this earth ever came close to being you. And now I’ve found you, I’m searching for a new secretary and have a line on a sturdy old dragon. She has iron gray hair and wears support tights, but she won’t put up with any shite from me, Larry, or anyone else. I figure if I keep her in girdles I should be set for another ten years until she retires.”
On the other end of the line, he could hear her make the in-between noise.
“Darling, are you laughing or crying?” He threw himself into the chair at his desk and pulled up a website for the airlines. By God, he’d have her here as fast as modern transportation could arrange it. While she took her time answering, he punched the button for the speaker phone to free up both hands to type in destinations.
Randi sniffled. “A little of both. But you aren’t off the hook.”
“Oh no, that I worked out. I’m sure I have several years of groveling left to do. But is it enough to get you to come and save me from the other women in my life?”
The library door crashed open, and Birdie stormed into the room, her face dark as a thunder cloud.
“That woman!”
“What’s that?” Randi’s voice sharpened, but remained low enough Birdie didn’t take notice.
“She called me…a…of all the stupid, old-fashioned, useless insults!” Birdie growled as she approached the desk where she stopped and leaned on the top, hands flattened on the surface.
“What did she say now?” Court asked, acutely aware of Randi listening on the phone. It didn’t stop him from working the online airline reservations.
“I can deal with the complaints about my posture, my speech, even my dress. I don’t mind being called lazy for the first time in my life, but really, how low can a person go?” Typically, Birdie rushed right on without waiting for an answer. “She called me a bastard!” she exclaimed. “Of all the…”
“She called you what?” Randi’s voice exploded from the speaker, and Birdie jumped back from the desk.
“Mom? Sorry, I didn’t realize you two were on the phone.” Birdie glanced at Court, one little plucked eyebrow raised.
“I want to hear exactly what happened. Was this Court’s mother?” Randi’s demand had Court and Birdie exchanging questioning glances. He’d never heard such sharp tones from his sweet girl. From the way Birdie’s mouth gaped, it wasn’t common for her, either.
“Uh, well, she was sort of provoked, Mom. Her physical therapy isn’t easy, and I pushed her a little hard. She decided to curse my ancestry. I just laughed at her to tell you the truth.”
“Don’t you dare defend such behavior! No one calls my daughter a bastard and gets away unscathed.”
Birdie started to speak, but Court waved her to silence. Taking advantage of Randi’s outrage was just the angle he’d exploit to get her here.
“See? I can’t leave them alone for two minutes. This is what we’re all living with here, Randi. We need you.” He winked at Birdie who’d begun to catch on, her eyes twinkling in conspiracy. “Now, I can have a limo at your door in an hour and you on a plane in three. Six, tops.” Within fifteen hours, if he were lucky, she’d have the opportunity to tell him she loved him too. That one he wanted to hear face to face.
“All right, Court. However—”
Yes! His fingers paused in the midst of entering her name for the next flight out of San Francisco.
“Since Birdie disappeared, we’ve scrapped our plans for Aspen, and I won’t leave Dad alone for Christmas. So buy a ticket for him as well and I’ll come. I expect you to have a room for him, even if it means you have to sleep in the barn.”
Chapter 24
Twenty-four hours after Court’s phone call, Randi stepped from customs and chewed on her bottom lip, not sure if she’d see Court or a stranger holding up a sign with her name. He’d promised a car and driver, but since it was the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and the airport was jammed, she didn’t kn
ow what to expect.
While shrugging into her coat, a quick scan over the sea of travelers didn’t show her anyone familiar. Determined to wade through the masses, she moved forward, and her rolling carry-on tried to fall off its precarious perch on top of her larger suitcase. The cantankerous little bag had been up to its usual tricks, and Randi wanted to drop-kick it into the nearest trash can. Pretty much like she wanted to drop-kick that awful woman who was damned lucky to be Birdie’s grandmother and didn’t have the sense to know it.
“Know what I’m buying you for Christmas,” her father said with a growl. Randi knew he wanted to kill the carry-on, too, since he’d tripped over it the most.
“Already taken care of.”
Court’s amused voice made Randi look up, as with one hand, he took control of her errant luggage. The other arm he wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close for a quick kiss, one she wanted to make deeper, but Court cut off when passing travelers bumped into his back. The kiss had been just long enough for her to breathe in his scent, lean against his solid form, and provide her a moment of solace in the noisy arrival area. He seemed entirely too cheerful in contrast to her jumping nervous energy. As usual, his presence calmed her, if only a little.
“’Allo, Randi.”
Most of her anxiety over Birdie melted as she stared into his blue eyes, and she mentally knocked herself upside the head for being so stupid and stubborn about calling him all these weeks. She’d heard him say he loved her, but had he said it just to get her on a plane? Had he set Birdie up to manipulate her into flying over? Doing her best to assume a demeanor of cool detachment, much like he did with such British expertise, she stood as tall as possible in her low-heeled boots. Which, admittedly, wasn’t saying much. Especially when his proximity effectively turned her knees to jelly and ramped up her over excited nerves. Wearing a black leather coat over a soft dark blue cashmere sweater and faded jeans, he still exuded an aura of power that drew eyes, especially hers.
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