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The Tycoon's Secret Daughter

Page 11

by Susan Meier


  Trisha grinned toothlessly and giggled.

  The crowd loved her.

  “She is adorable,” Annette whispered in her ear.

  Kate smiled. “Good genes.”

  “Max is thrilled to be a dad.”

  She could see that. But she could also see that he wasn’t a bit nervous behind the podium. He wasn’t angry or disgruntled to be a part of the huge company he considered to be the result of his father’s tricks and lies.

  Still holding Trisha, he turned and walked to the thick red ribbon strung across the wide glass-door opening for Montgomery Towers. He slid Trisha down and accepted the oversize scissors to cut the ribbon. Carefully wrapping Trisha’s hands around the handles, he posed them both for a picture and snapped the scissors closed, cutting the ribbon.

  The crowd laughed and applauded.

  Kate faced Annette. “How long’s he been like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Not angry.”

  Annette’s brow furrowed as if she wouldn’t talk about her boss, but after a few seconds, her face softened and she sighed. “It started a few months before he quit drinking. At first, I thought he was just trying to keep busy because he missed you. Then I thought maybe he was resigned to the fact that his dad was no great shakes as a father. But then he got interested in the business and I realized he intended to set things right.”

  She glanced at Annette. “Set things right?”

  “Undo the things his dad had done. Or at least not let his dad operate in his usual shady way. He started by doing all union negotiations. Then he moved to reviewing contracts with subcontractors and vendors. Then he began looking at the leases.”

  As Annette spoke, Kate watched Max posing for the cameras, sometimes holding Trisha, sometimes not. His smiles were genuine. His remarks to the press as they shot questions at him were easy but deliberate. He wasn’t a pushover or a sap. He wasn’t a figurehead. He wasn’t the favorite son destined to inherit the family business. He knew what he was doing.

  “All that before he quit drinking?”

  “It was almost as if he had to see what he was getting himself into before he could join Alcoholics Anonymous.”

  “So he changed the company. He didn’t adapt.”

  “Honestly?” Annette said, once again facing her. “I think he grew up.”

  Kate’s gaze crept over to Max again. The man holding her child. The father of her child. And for a split second it was as if she were looking at somebody else. A man she didn’t know.

  It was crazy.

  Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling. Especially when a reporter asked about Trisha—why no one had ever met his daughter before. He answered with the simple explanation that he didn’t believe it was wrong to keep his daughter out of the public eye until she was ready. He hadn’t placed blame. He hadn’t gotten embarrassed. He hadn’t gotten angry. He hadn’t lied.

  He’d simply answered.

  She stared at him. Really studied him. Unable to comprehend what she was putting together after only a few weeks of being in his company again.

  He wasn’t the same guy.

  Physically he was still the same ruggedly handsome, sexy Max. Emotionally, he was a totally different guy. A smart worker. A hard worker. A man who wanted to be a good dad. A man who no longer cast blame and held grudges.

  A good man.

  After only a few minutes of questions and pictures, Trisha got antsy. Gwen scooped up her hand, then caught Kate’s gaze and nudged her head in the direction of the building, indicating that Kate should come back into Montgomery Towers with them.

  Annette more or less bulldozed through the crowd in front of her to get them through, but when she entered the building lobby Gwen passed Trisha’s hand to her. “Please take Trisha up to the Montgomery offices on the top floor.”

  Annette didn’t hesitate. This woman was, after all, the owner of the company for which she worked.

  But as the elevator door closed behind them, Kate suddenly realized she and her ex-mother-in-law were alone. Completely alone in a barely furnished room that echoed with quiet.

  “My son may have forgiven you. I have not.”

  Kate’s limbs froze with fear. She faced Gwen. With her cheeks puffed out and red with rage, the woman was exactly the opposite of the sweet woman who’d met Trisha that morning and more like the woman Kate had known. The one who’d been reconciled to the fact that she’d married the wrong man and determined to make the best of it—for the sake of her sons. Could she expect her to be anything but angry that Kate had hurt one of them?

  “He quit drinking no more than nine months after you left. You couldn’t have stayed one more year? Told him about his child? Given him a chance?”

  “I gave him hundreds of chances.”

  Gwen snorted and paced away. “Our family had been torn apart. Is still torn apart.” She pivoted and faced Kate. “Do you know what it’s like never to see your own child?”

  She swallowed. They were back to this. Always this. “I’m sorry about Chance leaving, but I—”

  “But nothing!” Her angry voice reverberated through the glass lobby. “We took you in! Made you one of us! And you betrayed us.”

  “I saved myself. Protected my child.” She lifted her chin. “I’d do it again.”

  “Oh, save your pretty speeches. You may need them for court. Max only told me about Trisha yesterday. So I haven’t had time to consult a lawyer. But I will.” She smiled without a trace of humor. “I will. And then we’ll see how much you like never getting to see your child.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  KATE’S FIRST THOUGHT was to run. To take Trisha and go back to Tennessee. To force them to fight her on her turf, not in the county where they played golf with the judges and contributed to all of their reelection campaigns.

  But her running days were over. She’d moved to Tennessee, given up her friends, barely seen her parents for the past eight years because she’d been afraid of Max. But right now she wasn’t afraid of Max.

  The words rippled through her, along with a strange sensation of emotion. She truly wasn’t afraid of him. Not even afraid he’d try to manipulate her. And she realized Charming Max, the boy she’d dated, had only turned into Manipulating Max because of alcohol. Without alcohol, he wasn’t either Charming Max or Manipulating Max. He was just Max.

  The realization should have shocked her but it didn’t. She’d been coming to this conclusion for weeks. Trying to reconcile who he was right now with who he had been. But it suddenly struck her that she might be making a mistake thinking of him as old Max and new Max when it was more like she was dealing with a totally different guy.

  She would have loved to have had a few days to test out that theory before she confronted him. Unfortunately, she wasn’t about to let a threat go unanswered.

  By the time she got Trisha home and unwound enough from the busy day to go to bed, it was after nine. Still, she raced out to her car and made her way to Max’s.

  The house was dark when she arrived. Wisps of white clouds played peek-a-boo with the moon. A million stars shone overhead. After turning off her ignition, she sat in his driveway for a few seconds, debating going in. Finally she just shoved open the car door and bounded up his front walk.

  She rang the bell and after a few minutes, Max answered. Still in his black suit, with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and his red tie loosened, he looked sexily rumpled. Like a guy begging to be seduced by the woman he loves after a hard day at work.

  Oh, Lord! Where had that come from?

  “Kate?”

  She blinked, bringing herself back to the real world. “We need to talk.”

  He stepped back and opened the door wide enough for her to enter. “We do?”

  As she walked into the foyer, he motioned toward the kitchen. “I was just about to get a glass of lemonade.”

  She followed him, and as he walked to the refrigerator she sat on one of the tall stools by the granite-covered is
land. “Your mom threatened to take me to court over Trisha this afternoon.”

  Max stopped midway, spun around and gaped at her. “What?”

  “She’s seeing a lawyer tomorrow. She didn’t precisely say she was going for custody, but she told me to save my apologies and pretty speeches for court. She also told me to prepare to get to know what it feels like never to see your own child.”

  Max groaned. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I were. But she was very clear.”

  He groaned again, resuming his walk to the fridge. “You have to believe I’m not behind this.”

  “I do. Actually, that’s why I’m here. I won’t buckle under threats anymore. If that’s how your mom wants to operate, I think it’s just plain sad, but I won’t play that game.”

  To her complete surprise, he laughed. “Good for you.” He displayed a jug of lemonade. “Can I get you some?”

  Relieved that he wasn’t just taking this good-naturedly, but also clearly was uninvolved, she licked her dry lips and realized she was parched. She let out the breath that had backed up in her lungs. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  He brought the glass over to the counter where she sat. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, just the slightest bit, but electricity crackled at the contact. Their eyes met, and she quickly looked away.

  She’d never dealt with normal, sane, mature Max before. And she liked this Max. Really, dangerously liked this Max.

  When he sat on the stool beside hers, the room suddenly felt small and close. Her breath stuttered out of her chest.

  He smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Part of her was glad too. He was such a nice guy. So easy to deal with. So sweet. So good to Trisha. So good to her.

  The other part of her was—

  Wow. The other part was nothing. Her wary self seemed to be gone.

  She gulped some lemonade, scrambling to remember the night she’d left so she could regain her perspective. She had to be careful around him. That was how she stayed safe.

  “I like that you turned to me.”

  She swallowed hard. In spite of her wariness, something warm and tingly fluttered through her. She liked being able to turn to him too. Not for rescue, but to hold up his half of the parenting team they made. And there was nothing wrong with that.

  She glanced down at her lemonade. “It feels good to be able to turn to you.” Braver now that they were in normal territory, she looked over at him again.

  Warmth filled his eyes when he smiled at her. “Thanks.”

  She hadn’t forgotten how good looking he was or how susceptible she was to those good looks, but the zing of attraction that raced through her had a different feel to it. A fresh feel. Like moonlight winking off new snow. It felt bright, new, special.

  That was not good.

  She cleared her throat. “Anyway. I don’t want to fight your mom.”

  “You won’t,” he calmly assured her. “Any custody or visitation arrangements will be made by you and me. Only you and me.” He sucked in a breath. “Truth be told, I think her anger is actually residual from Chance leaving.”

  “But that has nothing to do with me.”

  He sighed heavily, shifted on his stool. “I think having Trisha suddenly in our lives reminds her that we have another missing family member.”

  “Oh.” She’d never even thought of that. “Sorry.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not your fault that Chance is gone or even that my mom’s upset. If anything, she knows it’s my fault and Dad’s. She knows my dad and I had a fight that Chance overheard, but she doesn’t know what we were fighting about.”

  “She still doesn’t know Chance is your dad’s real son?”

  “Nope. I think if she did, it would kill her.”

  “You almost sound like you’re glad Chance stays away.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Max.” Her voice was soft. Not accusatory. Sympathetic.

  He rose from the stool, ran his hand along the back of his neck. “I love him. I miss him. But I’m afraid for my mom.” He faced her. “What would happen if he came home? Would he tell her that he overheard me confronting Dad with the rumors I picked up at the office? Would he tell her he knows our dad really was his biological father? Would he tell her that he hates that his life is a sham?” He squeezed his eyes shut in misery. “My mom raised him. As her son. Clueless that he was the product of my dad’s adulterous affair, she took him in and kissed him and cuddled him, packed his lunches and took him to Little League. She misses him. Longs for him. But Chance feels it was all a lie. I can’t help worrying about what would happen if he came home.”

  “I’d worry too.” But she wasn’t concerned for Max’s mom. She wasn’t even concerned for Chance. She was worried for Max. He’d started drinking after the argument with his dad, the one Chance had overheard. Would he start again if Chance came home?

  A shudder worked through her. She didn’t want to test that out any more than he did.

  “Anyway, I know that’s why she confronted you today. She’s angry that Chance is gone. She feels he was ripped away from her. She’s mixing his situation and our situation together and coming up with feelings that aren’t fair.”

  “As long as we can work it out.”

  “We can.”

  “You can speak for your mom?”

  He laughed. “Yes. I’ll just remind her that we stay in the present. It was the deal we struck right after I quit drinking. We don’t think about yesterday. We don’t think about tomorrow. We deal in today.”

  She smiled ruefully. “I sure threw a monkey wrench into that.”

  He returned to the stool beside her, caught her hand, forcing her to look at him. “That’s not how I see it. I see you coming home, introducing me to my child, as a great blessing.”

  Relief rushed through her, along with a swell of attraction. What she wouldn’t give to be able to like this guy. To have a relationship not haunted by the past. “And there isn’t even a little part of you that’s angry?”

  “There was. But I reminded that part of me that you did what you believed you had to do.”

  “Say it often enough and you convinced yourself?”

  He chuckled. “Something like that.” He smiled at her again. “But better. I don’t want to live in that confusing, painful past. All being angry with you does is bring up a part of my life I wish had never happened. I’d prefer to enjoy the gift.”

  Her heart twisted a bit. What he said made so much sense. She began to understand why being with him, being attracted to him right now felt so different. This was no charismatic, fun-loving boy with sexy promises in his hot blue eyes. This was a man with promises of honesty and commitment in his deep blue eyes. Promises that were even sexier to a woman who’d been alone for so long.

  “So I will talk to my mom tomorrow.” He finished his lemonade and rose from his stool. “I will tell her no lawyers. I will remind her that we deal in today.”

  Disappointment rattled through her. They were done? No more talking? No more closeness?

  She rose too. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He walked her to the front door and like a ninny, she paused. She felt like a star-struck teenager suddenly alone with the high-school quarterback, knowing nothing could ever come of all the wonderful things she was feeling, but unable to stop feeling them.

  She looked up at him with a hesitant smile. He glanced down at her, returning her smile.

  And suddenly she realized something amazing. Gazing into his pretty blue eyes, she wasn’t thinking of the past. She was thinking only of this Max. She liked him. This guy right here, right now. He wasn’t a cajoler. He wasn’t sweet-talking her into doing things she didn’t want to do. He didn’t try to sugarcoat his past. He didn’t try to seduce her with words or kiss her into agreeable oblivion. He just—

  Kissed her?

  His head had descended slowly until his lips were on hers. All the air
disappeared from her lungs. Warmth exploded in her middle and speared to all parts of her body. The giddy schoolgirl disappeared, replaced by a woman. A woman oh so hungry for all the things she’d missed out on in the past eight years.

  Excitement surged through her, and she returned his kiss, but softly, tentatively. This wasn’t the kiss of long-lost lovers. This was a first kiss. Two people getting to know each other. Experimenting with the feel of each other’s lips, each other’s taste.

  As if thinking the thought made it happen, Max coaxed her lips open with a sweep of his tongue and with a groan she complied. His hand slid from beneath her hair to her shoulders to nudge her closer, nestling her breasts against his chest as their tongues twisted and swirled.

  Far too quickly, he retreated. Their lips brushed over each other a few more times and then he pulled away.

  Mesmerized, her body thrumming with sensations and needs she’d thought long dead, she stepped back. Reaching up, she traced the smooth line of his mouth. He looked the same. Only a little more mature. But he was so different. So different.

  He bumped his forehead to hers. “That was amazing.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. I liked the kiss too. She almost said it. The words sang through her blood, fluttered through her heart.

  But her brain knew better. He might behave differently, but at the end of the day he was still Max. Still an alcoholic. Still the ex-husband who had broken so many promises she couldn’t keep track. And if she forgot that, if she let herself get involved with him, or even let herself trust him too much, the real Max would spring up someday and hurt her.

  But she wouldn’t forget because she was different too. Not the wimpy twenty-something, afraid to stand up to him. She was strong. Smart.

  She took another step back, grabbing the doorknob. “I’ve gotta go.”

  And with that she left him. She didn’t think about the kiss on the way home. Didn’t let herself recall all the wonderful sensations or even the way her body came to life with a few sweeps of his tongue. She unlocked the door to her parents’ quiet house, tiptoed up the stairway and slid into bed, promising herself she’d never let him kiss her again.

 

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