by Day Leclaire
“Here’s what I’ve decided,” he announced. He gripped the railing and hoped like hell he could convince her to go along with the plan. “We’ll continue seeing each other. But there will be ground rules. If you can’t agree to them, better we call it off now.”
He waited for her to protest, to tell him in no uncertain terms where to get off. It had always been one of the characteristics he most appreciated about Nikki. They just needed to open negotiations so he’d know they still had a chance. She didn’t respond and he turned, her name on his lips…only to discover her gone.
Ten
The next five days were the longest Nikki could remember.
One by one they crept by while the day of the board meeting marched ever closer. Everything seemed to hang by a frayed thread over a bottomless precipice. Alan continued to elude the police. Jack didn’t call. And Nikki constantly worried about the bargain she’d made with him—whether it had been a smart decision or the stupidest of her life. She also worried about whether Reginald’s letter would help, or make matters worse—assuming they could get any worse than they already were.
And all the while she grieved Jack’s absence. Better get used to it, she warned herself, since that wasn’t likely to change, even after the board meeting. Not only did Jack despise her, but once she signed over her proxy, the Kincaids would despise her, too.
She closed her eyes, fighting tears. Without Jack, her bed had become a cold and lonely place. Guilt kept her up most nights, adding to her exhaustion. Worst of all, she missed him with an intensity that physically hurt. Missed talking to him. Missed their laughter. Missed curling up on the couch with him while they read or watched TV. Missed how those quiet times so often turned to an equally quiet passion where books dropped to the floor or the TV was turned off and they slipped into each other’s arms…and into each other.
There were so many little things she’d taken for granted. Like the way he’d pull her into his arms and spoon her tight against him during the night. How she’d wake to his kiss, to his lovemaking. The casual breakfasts they enjoyed on the deck or at the kitchen table, while they shared a cup of coffee and revealed their innermost thoughts and feelings. She longed for a return of those quick phone calls during the day that were a more effective jolt than any amount of caffeine. Not to mention the end of her workday and that sweet, breathless moment when she first saw him again. The anticipation of the coming embrace, after which they’d talk and nuzzle, mating scent and touch and bodies. Nikki closed her eyes and gave in to tears that came with increasing regularity—no doubt in part hormonal.
She’d lost Jack and had no idea how she’d ever fill the emptiness that loss created.
* * *
He’d lost Nikki and had no idea how he’d ever fill the emptiness that loss created.
Somehow she’d become an integral part of his life, filling up all the holes with her laughter and generosity. With her boundless love. Right from the start, she’d accepted him when no one else would, proving it by bidding an outrageous sum for a simple dinner. Well, and a wish, one he would give a substantial portion of his bank balance to take back.
That didn’t change the fact that she possessed a unique capacity for forcing him to see what he’d rather avoid, to look at his life from a fresh perspective. More often than not he didn’t care for the view, perhaps because it caused him to alter a course he’d set in stone a very long time ago. Too long ago.
It wasn’t simply the passion they shared, though that went far beyond anything he’d ever believed possible. No, what drew him to her was something far more basic. He’d fallen in love with who she was at the core. Not only did she treat him with innate kindness and acceptance, she treated everyone that way, without artifice or pretense, but with a genuine spontaneity intrinsic to her character.
He crossed to his dresser and removed the sapphire and diamond engagement ring Nikki had left there, along with his father’s letter that he’d resisted opening for the past five plus months, perhaps because he instinctively knew the contents contained a terrible emotional burden. A dark coffee ring stained the creamy-white envelope from when he’d anchored the letter to his deck railing with his coffee cup. At the time, he’d considered the mark appropriate, a dark smudge that reflected his birthright…or birth wrong. A ring that connected all the Kincaids within its unfortunate darkness.
He tossed the envelope onto his bed and frowned. Somehow that darkness had faded over the past few weeks, easing and lightening the more he’d gotten to know his Kincaid family. He suspected Nikki bore responsibility for that, as well, the way she’d affected so many areas of his life. She’d pushed and prodded him out of the darkness and into the strong, unwavering light, relentless in forcing him to see the truth. Her truth. His frown deepened. Or was it hers?
All these years he’d stood on the outside, his vision obscured by the tightly shut doors and thick, plated windows he believed separated him from his father and the Legitimates. Perhaps those windows and doors had screwed with his perception. Maybe by opening them—as Nikki had done—he could finally see clearly. Or maybe Nikki had been right when she’d said that he wasn’t the one on the outside, that he’d barricaded himself within his home, refusing to lower his defenses so others could join him. Was it possible?
He scrubbed his face, the shadow of a beard rasping against his hands. Hell. He could feel the grain of truth running through her observation, despite his resistance to the idea. Well, he’d promised to read his father’s letter at the board meeting in the morning and he’d honor his promise. But he hadn’t said he wouldn’t read the damn thing beforehand. Decision made, he snatched up the letter and broke the seal.
And what he read ripped apart his tidy little world.
* * *
He was late.
Nikki sat at the conference room table and nervously checked her watch. The Kincaids had already gathered. Laurel sat next to Matt and occasionally murmured a comment in his ear. Lily and Kara were quietly chatting, while RJ stared at Nikki. She could feel his building suspicion regarding her presence there. A single folder sat squarely positioned in front of her, the only contents her proxy which she’d already signed over to Jack. Just as RJ opened his mouth to speak, Jack entered.
He appeared every inch the executive businessman in a suit and dress shirt in unrelenting black, along with a gray, black and maroon striped tie. Discreet bits of gold flashed at his wrists from both his Rolex and a pair of knotted cuff links. RJ rose and Jack waved him back into his seat then held out a preemptory hand to Nikki. Her throat went instantly dry. Praying her fingers wouldn’t tremble, she passed him her folder.
He continued to stand, taking instant charge of the meeting. “This proxy gives me the fifty-five percent controlling interest in The Kincaid Group necessary to take over as President and CEO. We can go through the motions of a vote, but it wouldn’t change the fact that I’m now in charge.”
“What the hell…!” RJ shot to his feet again. “Who owns those ten percent shares? How did you get the proxy?”
Nikki steeled herself to meet RJ’s furious gaze. “I own them. I inherited them from my grandfather, Todd Beaulyn, who was given them by Reginald when he expanded into the real estate market. I signed over my proxy to Jack this morning.”
Voices exploded around the table, the Kincaids all talking at once. Jack waited them out. “Object all you want. It’s a done deal. Next order of business…” He removed a sheaf of papers from his breast coat pocket, his gaze drifting to meet Nikki’s. “This is the letter my—our—father left me, which I will read.”
“What the hell do we care what Dad had to say to you?” RJ demanded.
“Maybe it’s important.” Matt caught his brother’s arm and drew him back into his chair. “Besides, I want to hear what Dad wrote.”
Swearing beneath his breath, RJ subsided and gave a reluctant jerk of his head to indicate his consent.
Jack smoothed out the pages and began to read, “‘Dear Jack
, in some ways this is the most difficult letter of all those I’ve written today. Although I owe each of you an apology for the selfish decisions I made during my lifetime, you were the one most injured by those choices.’”
He broke off, his gaze arrowing in on his brothers and sisters. “Just so you know, that’s not true. Elizabeth was the one most injured. When I was conceived your parents hadn’t met. I was an accident of birth. But afterward, when he found us again…” Jack shook his head. “He should have divorced your mother before he ever started an affair with mine.”
Nikki watched the Kincaid siblings exchange quick, surprised glances. Laurel nodded in agreement. “Thanks, Jack. I didn’t expect you to feel that way. As it happens, we agree with you on that point.”
He inclined his head. “To continue… ‘You lived your life in the shadows, never acknowledged, never enjoying the benefits that your brothers and sisters received their entire lives. I know how you longed for that legitimacy. To be part of the family we shared. To have a father attend all your sporting events and celebrate your school accolades. To be there in the evenings after work. To simply be available for something as basic as a game of catch. I wasn’t even there for most of your birthdays. Nor was I there the day you needed me most, the day you almost died.’”
From across the room, Nikki caught the hitch in Kara’s breath, knew how much the words affected her. Dampness gathered in her soft green eyes, along with sympathy. “Oh, Jack. Matt told us about that. I’m so sorry.”
Nikki could tell Kara’s sympathy caught him by surprise. He hesitated, as though not quite certain how to respond. Even Matt and RJ exchanged looks that clearly acknowledged that Jack had received the short end of the “father” stick.
“It’s okay. I survived,” Jack finally said. He fumbled with the pages, looking for his place before continuing. “He goes on to say, ‘I wasn’t there for you, Jack, not the way I was for the others. And for that I apologize. I apologize for my weakness in trying to have the best of both worlds—the society my family held in too high esteem and the two women I loved too well…and not well enough. I have always loved you and been proud of the son I never claimed. And I apologize for my weakness in attempting to take too much from life without giving enough in return. I ask your forgiveness—’”
His voice faltered, broke off, and in that instant, Nikki realized he couldn’t go on. She shot to her feet. This was her fault. Entirely her fault. She’d put him in this position without considering how intensely personal Reginald’s letter might be, or how difficult he’d find it to read to his brothers and sisters. She’d merely hoped that his father had explained his decision in never acknowledging Jack and thereby help to heal the breach between the two families. She crossed to his side and slipped the creased pages from his hands.
“Don’t,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. I should never have asked you to read it aloud.” She turned her attention to the Kincaids. “This is all my fault. I agreed to sign over my proxy if Jack promised to read his letter here today. I should never have put him through that.”
“No.” Jack’s jaw set. “I going to finish it. I want to finish it.”
“We get the idea,” Matt said gently. “It’s not necessary to read more. We understand why you have it in for us and for The Kincaid Group. I suspect I’d feel the same in your place.” His sisters nodded in agreement while RJ stared at the table, his jaw set in a mirror image of Jack’s.
“I said I’d finish it and I will.” He took the letter from Nikki and snapped it open. Clearing his throat, he continued, though a desperate roughness filtered through his voice. “‘I ask your forgiveness, not only for myself, but for your brothers and sisters. You should have been a brother to them from the beginning. I suspect you would have benefitted from that contact, just as their lives would have been far richer having you part of theirs. Believe it or not, you and RJ are very much alike, both with many of the same strengths…and weaknesses. I hope you won’t allow the weaknesses you share to prevent you from having the relationship I denied you all these years. I’m opening a door, son, a door that I kept closed.’”
Jack paused. He looked up then and quoted the rest of the words from memory. “‘I’ve left you forty-five percent interest in The Kincaid Group to help make up for all I neglected to give you, all I neglected to be for you. But I’ve also given you the shares so you would have a choice. To walk through the door I’ve now opened and be the man I know in my heart you are. Or you can close and lock that door…and have your vengeance. It’s your choice, Jack.’”
He folded the letter and returned it to his coat pocket. Silence gripped the room, a silence so profound Nikki swore she could hear every breath taken, the beat of each heart. Slowly, RJ stood and looked at Jack. For the first time regret instead of antagonism colored his expression. “I wish Dad had raised us together. And I for one am sorry for what he did, how you were made to feel an outsider. I think for the first time I understand why you would choose vengeance and I really can’t blame you. I wish you’d make a different choice, but I probably would make the same one if I were standing in your shoes.”
Matt climbed to his feet, as did the women. One by one, they came to him. Embraced him. RJ was the last to approach. He held out his hand and waited. Jack didn’t hesitate. He took it in a firm shake.
“If you’ll all sit down again, we’ll finish this,” Jack said. “Before we continue, there is one personal detail I’d like to resolve.” He turned to Nikki and took her hand in his. “A week ago you agreed to marry me. I’d like to know if you intend to honor our engagement.”
For a split second Nikki couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Didn’t dare hope. His steady gaze remained on her, open and unguarded. Intuition warned that she could shatter him with the least wrong word. “You still want to marry me?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes. The question is…do you want to marry me? You know who I am. What I am. What I intend to do. Do you stand with me or against me?”
“Oh, Jack.” Tears overflowed her eyes and she swiped at them with a trembling hand. “Don’t you know by now? I’ve always stood with you.”
For a long moment Jack couldn’t move, couldn’t think, the rush of relief was so profound. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and a muscle clenched in his jaw before easing. Thank God. He didn’t know what he’d have done if she’d rejected him. He retrieved the engagement ring from his pocket, the sapphire a perfect match for her eyes, the diamonds a perfect match for her tears, and slipped it onto her finger. Then he gathered her close and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Trust me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted—for you to love and trust me.”
“I do trust you.” Passion gleamed in her eyes, along with unmistakable faith. “And I love you with all my heart.”
“Then let’s get this over with.” She returned to her seat and Jack’s gaze swept his brothers and sisters, all of whom eyed him with an understandable wariness. This next part would be almost as difficult as reading his father’s letter and he suspected it would end any possibility of a relationship with the Kincaids. “At this point you should know that a few hours ago the police arrested my brother, Alan Sinclair, for the murder of our father.”
His words fell like a bombshell.
“Nikki and I had begun to suspect him a few weeks ago and have been working hard to gather the evidence to prove his guilt. Alan has confessed, claiming he killed Dad in order to prevent him from cutting off future financial assistance. Apparently, Alan believed our mother would inherit a generous amount, enough to keep him in the lap of luxury for the rest of his pathetic life. I had no idea or I’d have done everything within my power to stop him. I know nothing I can say will make up for what he’s done. But I’m more sorry than I can express that I’m in any way related to that sorry son of a bitch.”
Matt shot Jack a grim look. “I second that motion and vote in favor of his rotting in prison for the rest of his miserable life.”
&
nbsp; “Seconded,” Laurel said.
“I believe that’s one motion we can all agree on,” Lily stated, her eyes flashing with anger. She turned a hint of her anger on Jack. “But if you think we blame you for his actions, you’re crazy.”
“Once again, I second the motion,” Matt said.
He elbowed RJ, who nodded in reluctant agreement. “I hold you accountable for plenty, Sinclair, but not that.”
Jack gave a brisk nod. “I appreciate it. If you have any other questions about the situation, Detective McDonough is available to fill you in. At this point, I intend to move onto new business.”
“Give it to us straight,” RJ insisted. “We’re now Carolina Shipping and anyone with the last name Kincaid is out of a job, right?”
Jack smiled. “Not quite. My next motion is to bring Carolina Shipping under The Kincaid Group umbrella.”
“Wait.” Laurel leaned forward, frowning. “You’re going to fold your company into ours? Not the other way around?”
“Not the other way around,” Jack confirmed. He crossed to the conference room door and opened it. “Harold, if you’d come in now.”
Harold Parsons, the Kincaid lawyer entered the room, clutching a packet of papers. He nodded to the group at large. “I’d like to state for the record that I don’t appreciate being dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn to take care of matters which should have—and could have—been addressed weeks ago.”
“Understood,” Jack replied. “I’m sure your appreciation, or lack thereof, will be reflected in my bill.”
