Millionaires' Destinies

by Sherryl Woods

  Frantic, he’d tried to drag her to safety, knowing even as he struggled that it was too late, that nothing he could do would save her.

  From that moment on, as the car exploded into a fiery inferno, Ben had shut down emotionally. It had stirred the images that had haunted him from childhood of his parents’ plane going down into the side of a mountain on a foggy night. He’d been so young back then that he’d barely understood what had happened. Everyone was careful to tiptoe around the details of that crash, so he’d filled in the blanks for himself, envisioning the kind of unbearable horrors that only a child with an active imagination could spin.

  Now he shuddered and tried to push from his mind all of those memories, forever intertwined even though they’d occurred years apart.

  “There’s a huge difference between being alone and being lonely,” he pointed out quietly. “No one should recognize that better than you. I don’t see you trying to snag a husband now that your nest is empty, Destiny.”

  She frowned at the challenge. “It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have companionship if the right man came along.”

  “There,” he said triumphantly. “The right man, and nothing less.”

  “Well, of course.” She gave him a sad smile. “I had that extraordinary experience once. I know what it’s like. I won’t accept anything less.”

  “Neither will I.”

  “But you won’t find it, if you don’t get out and look,” she scolded.

  “So you’ve decided to bring the likely candidate to my doorstep?”

  She shrugged. “Sue me.” Then she gave him a sly look. “It worked, didn’t it? You’re intrigued by Kathleen. I saw it in your eyes. You were watching her.”

  “Maybe I’d just like to paint her,” he said, unwilling to admit to any more. Kathleen had been right, if Destiny knew about that kiss, he’d never hear the end of it. Who knew what she might do to capitalize on the impact of that kiss? Throwing them together at every opportunity would be the least of it.

  Destiny chuckled. “You don’t do portraits. If you are genuinely interested in painting her, I find that very telling, don’t you?”

  He refused to give her an inch. She would seize it and run with it for a mile. “Not particularly.”

  “Look at your choice of subjects, Benjamin,” she said impatiently. “You’re more comfortable with nature than you are with people. Ever since you lost your parents, you don’t trust yourself to truly connect with anyone, much less to fall in love. Even Graciela was safe, because she was incapable of real love. You knew that from the start, and it suited you. You’re afraid we’ll all leave you.”

  “I fell in love with Graciela,” he insisted.

  “I don’t believe that for a minute, but let’s say it’s true. In the end, she only reinforced the pain,” Destiny said.

  They’d been through this before. Ben had copped to it, so he saw no need to belabor the point. “Yes,” he said tersely.

  “I haven’t left. Richard and Mack haven’t left. And you’re beginning to let yourself care for their wives, too. They’re here for the long haul. I’ll wager that you’ll lose your heart to the children when they come along, as well.”

  “More than likely,” he agreed. Each time he felt Melanie’s baby kick, it set off an odd tug of longing inside him. He envied his brother the joy that awaited him, no question about it.

  “Then why not open yourself to the possibility that there might be someone special out there for you as well?”

  “I don’t need anyone,” he declared flatly.

  “We all need someone. If I haven’t taught you that, then I’ve failed you miserably.”

  “You don’t seem to need anyone.”

  “But I have memories,” she said sadly. “Wonderful memories.”

  “And those keep you warm at night?”

  “They bring me peace,” she said. “Life is for living, darling. Never forget that.”

  “Unless fate steps in,” he said. “Tricky thing, fate. You never quite know when it’s going to bite you in the butt.”

  She sighed, her expression suddenly nostalgic. “No, you don’t, do you?”

  Ben seized on the rare hint of melancholy in her voice. “You’re thinking about what you gave up to come and take care of us, aren’t you?” he said.

  “You say that as if I have regrets. It wasn’t a sacrifice,” she insisted, just as she had on so many past occasions. “I did what I had to do. You boys have brought nothing but joy into my life.”

  “But nothing to equal the man you left behind,” he pressed, wishing for once she would share that part of her life. If he had his hang-ups, they were nothing next to the secrets that Destiny clung to and kept hidden from them.

  “Water under the bridge,” she insisted. “I have no regrets, and that’s the point. People move forward, take risks, let people in. Holing up and protecting your heart doesn’t keep you safe. It keeps you lonely.” She gave him one of her trademark penetrating, steady looks. “I could give you Kathleen’s phone number, if you like.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t had it tattooed to my hand while I slept.”

  “Tattoos are too tacky,” she teased. “Besides, if I happen to be wrong just this once, I’d hate for you to have to explain it away the rest of your life.”

  Ben grinned despite his exasperation. “I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, her expression totally serene. “And in the end you’ll do what I expect. You always do.”

  Sadly, she had that right. He could call Kathleen Dugan in the morning or he could hold out against the inevitable. In the end, though, he would see her again. Kiss her again.

  He just wanted to make sure it was on his own terms.

  Chapter Four

  By noon on Friday, Kathleen’s gallery was packed with customers who’d read a review of Boris’s work in the morning paper. As Destiny had expected, the critic had raved about his bold style and predicted great things. Collectors who’d left without buying or even expressing much interest at the opening were now eagerly lining up to pay the premium prices Kathleen had put on tags the instant she’d seen the review. At this rate, the show would be a sell-out before the end of the day.

  Which meant she would have to find another artist for the schedule, she realized as an image of Ben’s painting slipped into her head. It would be awfully convenient if she could talk him into an immediate showing, but the likelihood of that was somewhere between slim and none. Winning him over was going to take time, patience and persistence, something she didn’t have at the moment.

  She’d just written up her last sale of the morning and drawn a deep breath at the prospect of a midday lull, when Destiny breezed into the gallery, resplendent in a trim red coat with a fake-fur collar and a matching hat.

  “Good morning, Kathleen,” she said, her gaze going to the walls, where red Sold stickers were on more than half of the price tags. Her expression immediately brightened. “Didn’t I tell you that a favorable review would turn the tide for Boris? The show is obviously a resounding success, after all.”

  “It is,” Kathleen said happily. “Now if only I had something to replace it, once the buyers come back to claim their pieces. I’ve been able to hold most of them off for the next week, but after that these walls could be bare.” She gave Destiny a sly look. “I don’t suppose you’d like to help me out?”

  “You saw for yourself how difficult Ben can be. I doubt you’ll be able to talk him into a show quickly enough,” Destiny said.

  It was obvious to Kathleen that Destiny was deliberately misunderstanding her question. “I agree, but there is another Carlton artist who’s quite good.” She met Destiny’s gaze evenly. “And I think she owes me one, don’t you?”

  Destiny returned her gaze without so much as a flicker of an eyelash. “Why on earth would I owe you anything, my dear?”

  “You got me out to your nephew’s house under false pretenses, didn’t you?”
/>   “False pretenses?” Destiny echoed blankly. “I don’t understand.”

  The woman was good, no doubt about it. She almost sounded convincing, and she’d managed to look downright wounded.

  “It was never about Ben’s art, was it?” Kathleen pressed. “You simply wanted me to meet him.”

  “And now you have,” Destiny said brightly, as if attaching no significance to that meeting besides the obvious contact with an artist. “I’m sure in time you can persuade him to let you sell his paintings.”

  “How do I know there are more paintings?” Kathleen asked. “I never got to see them.”

  Destiny didn’t look a bit uncomfortable at that reminder. “Yes, well, the timing seemed to be a bit off, after all. Perhaps in a few days or a few weeks things will settle down a bit and you can go back out there. I’d recommend waiting until after the first of the year.”

  “Nearly six weeks? My, my. Ben must be mad as hell at your scheming,” Kathleen guessed.

  Destiny waved off the suggestion. “He’ll get over it. Just give him a little time.”

  “Which I don’t have. I need something new and exciting to promote before Christmas.” She gave Destiny another piercing look. “A few pieces by Destiny Carlton would be a huge draw before the holidays. We could do a lovely reception.”

  “Absolutely not,” Destiny said flatly. “I no longer show my work.”

  “Just like someone else in the family,” Kathleen scoffed. “Why not? I know you’re good, Destiny. You’ve let me see your paintings.”

  “Painting was something I did professionally years ago. Now I merely dabble.”

  “The way Ben claims to dabble?”

  “Ben’s a genius!” Destiny said fiercely. “Concentrate on winning him over, my dear, and forget about me.”

  “Hard to do, when you’re here and he’s not.”

  “He’ll come around in time. In the meantime, I’m sure you’ll find something wonderful for the gallery for the holiday season,” Destiny said. “Even at the last second, there are dozens of local artists who’d be thrilled by an invitation to show their works here. Ask one of them. They’ll accept. You’re very persuasive, after all.”

  Kathleen gave her a wry look. “I don’t seem to be doing so well with you. Maybe all Carltons are immune to my charms.”

  “Maybe you simply need to formulate a new strategy and try a little harder,” Destiny advised. Her expression turned thoughtful. “My nephew has a sweet tooth. Since you bake all those delicious little pastries you serve at your events here, I’m sure you could use that skill to your advantage.”

  Apparently satisfied that she’d planted her seed for the day, Destiny glanced at her watch and feigned shock. “Oh, dear, look at the time. I’m late. I just wanted to stop by and tell you how delighted I was to see that review and to tell you again that I’m so glad you were able to join us yesterday.”

  “Thanks for including me,” Kathleen said, giving up the battle of wits with Destiny for now. A retreat seemed in order, since it seemed unlikely she’d be able to change Destiny’s mind.

  “I really enjoyed meeting the rest of your family,” she added with total sincerity, “Beth and Melanie especially. Chatting with them was very enlightening.”

  Destiny gave her a sharp look. “Don’t believe everything you’re told, Kathleen.”

  Kathleen chuckled at her worried expression. “Yes, I can see why you wouldn’t want me taking their advice at face value.”

  “What did those two tell you?” she asked, clearly ready to defend herself against all charges.

  “Nothing I hadn’t already figured out for myself,” Kathleen said. “You’re a clever woman, Destiny. And a force to be reckoned with.”

  Destiny squared her shoulders. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.

  “I thought you might,” Kathleen said, her grin spreading. “I’m not entirely convinced they meant it that way, though.”

  “Those two have nothing to complain about,” Destiny grumbled. “If it weren’t for me giving them and my nephews a timely nudge, their lives would be very different.”

  “I’m sure they would all concede that,” Kathleen agreed. “But may I give you a piece of advice?”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t count on getting your way where Ben and I are concerned.”

  Destiny looked amused. “Because you’re made of tougher stuff?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Darling, that only means you’ll fall even faster and harder.”

  Abandoning Kathleen to ponder that, she swept out of the gallery, leaving only the scent of her expensive perfume and her warning to linger in the air.

  Ben slapped a heavy layer of dark, swirling paint on the canvas and regarded it bleakly. It pretty much mirrored his mood ever since Thanksgiving. Anyone looking at the painting would see nothing but turmoil and confusion. Some fool critic would probably look at it and see evidence of madness, and maybe he had gone a little mad from the moment he’d met Kathleen Dugan. Heaven knew, he couldn’t get her out of his head, which was something he hadn’t expected.

  Nor had he been able to paint, not with the delicate touch required to translate nature into art. The fiasco in front of him had started out to be a painting of Canada geese heading north, but he’d messed it up so badly, he’d simply started layering coats of paint over the disaster, swirling together colors simply to rid himself of the restless desire to be doing something artistic even when his talent seemed to have deserted him. Who knew? Maybe he’d discover a whole new style. Looking at the canvas, though, it didn’t seem likely.

  He was about to put a fresh canvas on the easel and start over when he heard the slam of a car door. He glanced outside and saw Mack climbing out of his SUV. He figured his big brother had probably come to gloat. One look at the painting in front of Ben and even without an ounce of artistic talent of his own, Mack would recognize that his brother was in a funk. To avoid that, Ben took the still-damp canvas and shoved it out of sight, then grabbed a blank one and sat it on the easel.

  Mack came in seconds later, carrying a bag filled with sandwiches and bottles of soda. He glanced at the pristine canvas and raised an eyebrow.

  “Artist’s block?” he inquired, barely containing a grin.

  “Nope,” Ben lied. “Just thinking about a new painting. Haven’t even picked up my brush yet.”

  Mack’s gaze immediately went to the palette of paints that had clearly been in use recently. “Oh?”

  “I finished something earlier,” Ben claimed, knowing he was only digging the hole deeper. Mack might not know art, but he knew his brother. He was also pretty deft at recognizing an evasion when he heard one.

  “Can I see?” he asked, his expression innocent. His eyes betrayed him, though. They were filled with amusement.

  “No. I tossed it out,” Ben claimed. “It wasn’t coming together right.”

  “Maybe you were too close to it. Could be you’d lost perspective. I could give you my opinion,” Mack offered cheerfully, clearly not buying the elaborate tale.

  “I’d rather you just dole out one of those sandwiches and leave the art critiques to people who know what they’re talking about,” Ben groused.

  “You mean people like Kathleen Dugan?” Mack asked, his expression perfectly bland as he handed over a roast beef sandwich. “She seems knowledgeable.”

  “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let her near my paintings,” Ben retorted.

  “Because you don’t think she knows the business or because Destiny introduced you?” Mack asked, grinning broadly. “Can’t say I blame you for not trusting our aunt’s motivation in inviting Kathleen out here.”

  “Yeah, well, you would know, wouldn’t you?” Ben said.

  “That I would.”

  “Why are you here, by the way?”

  “Just thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing,” Mack claimed.

  “You were here Thursday. It’s only Saturday.
How much could happen in a couple of days?”

  “I’d say that depends on how sneaky Destiny is being,” Mack said cheerfully. “Has Kathleen popped up yet?”

  “No sign of her,” Ben admitted.

  Mack studied him intently. “Are you relieved about that?”

  “Of course.”

  “You don’t sound especially happy. Seemed to me the two of you hit it off okay the other night. Maybe you were hoping she’d turn up to pester you by now.”

  Ben gave him a sour look. “We were polite.”

  “Then that kiss was just a polite gesture?” Mack asked.

  Ben felt his face burn. “What kiss?” he asked with what he thought was a pretty good display of complete ignorance. Surely Mack was just guessing, adding up one man, one woman, a bit of chemistry and drawing his own conclusion about what had happened while he’d been out of the room. Maybe he was simply drawing on the knowledge of what he would have done if left alone with an attractive woman, pre-Beth, of course.

  “The kiss I stumbled across when I came back into the dining room,” Mack replied, disproving Ben’s theory. “Looked pretty friendly to me.”

  Faced with the truth, indignation seemed the only route left to him. “What the hell were you doing? Spying on us?” Ben demanded.

  “Nope,” his brother said, clearly undaunted. “Destiny sent me in to ask how many pies you wanted her to leave for you, so she’d know how many to give Beth and me to take to the hospital.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” Ben said defensively.

  “Obviously.”

  Ben scowled at his brother. “You didn’t race right back in the kitchen and report what you’d seen, did you?”

  “Absolutely not,” Mack said, his indignation far more genuine than Ben’s. “I just told Destiny you said you’d had all the pie you needed and I should take the rest.”