Improper Conduct

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “Uh-huh,” Annie interrupted.

  Silence. Annie’s Attic had been picketed several times when it first opened due to its erotic products, and she was obviously still sensitive about the issue.

  “Sorry,” Helen muttered. “We were talking about Nick.”

  Annie nodded and turned back to him. “Helen and Nate and I all want you to be happy.” A grin spread from ear to ear, undoubtedly because she was happy. Suddenly she shot a hand adorned with a sizable diamond in front of his face. “Nate’s going to make an honest woman of me.”

  “You and Nate are getting married?” Nick got up, rounded the table and pulled Annie to her feet for a hug. “I hope you realize you have me to thank.”

  “Next thing you know,” Helen said, “he’ll be taking credit for Christmas, too.”

  Kissing Annie on both cheeks, Nate ignored Helen.

  “Don’t let Isabel get away,” she said softly.

  “I’ll sleep on it,” he promised. “If I can sleep after that jolt of caffeine.”

  Helen groaned and rolled her eyes. “Don’t blow it, Novak, or I’ll…well, just don’t blow it.”

  He bent over and kissed Helen on the cheek, as well.

  She looked nonplussed, while Annie grinned harder. Nick grinned back and gave her a thumbs-up, but inside he was seething with pain.

  Sleep on it, indeed. What was there to sleep on?

  The cops had come in gangbusters. Since they hadn’t found him home, they’d been about to leave when Boyd’s gun had gone off, which then brought them running to the rapid-transit station.

  After a cursory questioning, the cops had brought the four of them to the police station to sort it all out. Once there, Isabel had kept some distance between them and focused her attention on her sister. Every so often she’d looked his way, but when he’d caught her staring, she’d directed her gaze past his shoulder. He hadn’t been able to tell what the hell she’d been thinking.

  Once the police had taken their statements and they were free to go, however, he’d asked her. A veil had descended over her lovely face and Isabel had simply replied, “I need to see my father before this all explodes in his face.”

  Big surprise!

  As he climbed up to his studio, Nick wondered how much longer Isabel would have to sell herself before the senator gave her what she so obviously needed from him.

  “WHAT IS IT? GOOD NEWS at last, I hope?” Senator William Grayson demanded as he entered the town house study early Sunday morning. “Is the problem contained?”

  Louise…a problem to be contained…

  Turning from the window of the place that had been her only home for twenty-eight years, Isabel faced the man she’d called Father all her life and wondered if he felt anything for anyone. She supposed he had feelings for Amber Bower, although he’d betrayed her, as well.

  He’d sold himself for his political ambition. Her mother had sold herself to get a father for her child. And the Bower woman had sold herself to stay with the man she loved, Isabel supposed. Or perhaps she had simply wanted to be kept in comfortable circumstances.

  Despite what she knew now, Isabel still didn’t understand. How could this man have lived a lie for so many years without falling into it? She’d been a vulnerable child and then a vulnerable young woman who’d been tangled in his lies. What had run through his head every time she’d called him Father?

  “Do you feel nothing for me?” she asked.

  He tightened the belt around his robe and scowled at her. “Is that why you got me out of bed so early on a Saturday morning? To quiz me?”

  A question with a question. Something she’d been guilty of more times than she cared to remember when she hadn’t wanted to answer a query.

  “Actually, I’m here to warn you. But, first, know that Louise is safe and with Mother at a hotel…that is if you care anything for her.”

  “Of course I care. She’s my daughter.”

  Isabel swallowed hard. “And Boyd is under arrest.”

  Not even skipping a beat, he asked, “For what?”

  “Attempted murder. Louise and I stood between you and him and he couldn’t take that anymore.”

  Despite the reasons Boyd had spouted about rising in the Democratic party, Isabel knew they were only a symptom of the real disease—Senator William Grayson. Boyd had been driven to prove his worth to his father. Unfortunately, he’d used drugs to bolster his ego, or his bravery. She thought perhaps his being under the influence had allowed him to commit what otherwise would have been insane acts.

  “What do you know?” he growled.

  “Everything,” Isabel said. “Well, as much as Boyd knew. How could you raise a child as your own, Senator, without ever really being her father?”

  “Senator?”

  “Let’s be honest.”

  A heartbeat passed. “But people don’t know that I’m not your real father,” he said, confirming it. “If we put our heads together, we can spin this, Isabel—”

  “Damn everyone else!” And damn him, though she didn’t say it. “People will know everything once the media gets hold of this story. I’m not going to do a thing to stop it because I’m no longer working for you.”

  Even so, if he showed her just one sign of affection or regret, she might weaken and do what she could before she left this place for good. She watched as his expression turned stormy. Of course, he never failed in one way—never failed to disappoint her.

  His face had grown red and his eyes bulged. “You can’t do this to me!”

  “I didn’t, Senator,” she said, knowing it to be true. “I’m afraid you did this to yourself.”

  With that, she headed for the study door, intending to walk out of his political career—and his life—forever. Her hand was on the doorknob when he called after her.

  “Proud of yourself, are you?”

  Isabel turned for one last look at the father she’d never had. “Yes. Finally, I am.”

  BAM-BAM-BAM…

  Nick dragged himself up out of the depths of sleep and eyed his clock. It was 6:00 a.m. Who the hell was banging at his door at this early hour?

  Bam-bam-bam…

  “Yeah, put a lid on it!” he shouted as he rolled out of bed. “I’m coming.”

  Realizing he was nude, Nick swept up his jeans from the floor and stepped into the legs as he walked. He couldn’t bear the damn banging. His head already felt big enough, thanks to the half bottle of vodka he’d downed so he could sleep. He fumbled with the zipper as he unlocked the door and swung it open.

  And damn if Isabel Grayson’s gaze didn’t zero in on that very spot.

  “Nick, don’t dress up for me.” She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

  She was dressed, coiffed and made-up as if she were ready to go before the cameras.

  “What can I do for you this time, Isabel?” he growled, defiantly leaving the zipper partially undone.

  “You can invite me in.”

  She looked as cool and pulled together and sleekly beautiful as she had the day she’d sought him out. Her suit today was a soft blue the same shade as her eyes, and the skirt was short enough to make his imagination soar right under it.

  Nick took a step back and she swept by him with excruciating slowness, as if she wanted to make certain he would catch her scent. Her usual musk was heightened with spice. Ginger, he thought, looking down into cleavage that made his mouth go dry.

  “So, what is it, Isabel?” he asked, his grip on the doorknob strong enough to tear it off.

  She turned and tilted her head so that a stray strand of hair swept her cheek. “I wanted to thank you, Nick,” she said sweetly.

  Yesterday she’d left him high and dry and today she was acting all coy.

  “Louise is all right, then?”

  “She will be. We’ve checked into a hotel. Mother is there now, just temporarily,” Isabel added. “She has her own life to worry about.”

  As if that could be more important than her daug
hters. But nothing could surprise him now.

  And why was he feeling sorry for Isabel? She’d made all her own choices, including the one that left him behind when she decided she needed to talk to the old man.

  “I intend to make a life for Louise and me,” she continued. “Our own apartment will be a start. Then she’ll go away to college in the fall.”

  “What about you, Isabel?”

  “I called it quits with the senator before coming here. And last night, when I couldn’t sleep, I spent several hours organizing my thoughts about the story I want to tell. After I write it and, I hope, sell it, I’m not sure which direction to take. Money’s not an issue at the moment, so I thought I would volunteer at Haven and see where the need is greatest.”

  She wanted to work at the drop-in center? For free? “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” she agreed lightly.

  Realizing Isabel hadn’t said anything about her personal feelings concerning the man she’d been led to believe was her father, Nick thought she must be suffering under a brave front. One he didn’t want to wreck for her. When she was ready, she would tell him.

  “So what do you want with me, Isabel?” he asked softly. “If you had simply wanted to thank me, you could have called.”

  “Yes, well…there is a little matter of a revealing videotape….”

  “Ah, the videotape.” He should have known. He would have erased it if she’d asked, but no doubt she wouldn’t trust him to do so. “I’ll get it.” He turned away, muttering, “I knew there had to be some self-motivated reason for your coming here.”

  Following, she said, “I’m only human.”

  As was he. His gut tightened as he went to the camcorder to get her the damn videotape, wondering if this was the last time he would see her alone.

  “Wait!” she said as he was about to press Eject. “Start recording, would you? I want to add something to that tape.”

  Nick whipped around to find her perched on the hot seat, one leg crossed over the other, revealing a flesh-colored lace garter belt that she might have bought from Annie. She was wearing thigh-high stockings rather than panty hose.

  Ignoring his instant hard-on, Nick turned back to the equipment and did as she requested. “So, Isabel, what is it you have to say?”

  “Not a lot, but it’s important.”

  On the monitor, he saw her undo the top button of her blouse.

  “I don’t know if I’m so guilty for what I did…dumping you, I mean…but I admit that I was a fool when it came to trying to please my so-called father,” she said, unbuttoning the next two. “I wasted so much time when I have so much I want to give.” She freed the tails of her blouse from the skirt and let it hang in open invitation. “And I want to give it all to you, Nick Novak, because I love you with all my heart.”

  That’s all Nick needed to hear to propel him toward her. Damn! That bra looked amazingly see-through. Or was there a bra? Smiling, she uncrossed her legs and he could see that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

  She wasn’t wearing any underwear at all!

  Nick grinned and unzipped his jeans as he focused on her face. On her lips.

  “That apartment you’re going to get…um, when Louise leaves for school, won’t you feel a little lost wandering through all those rooms alone?”

  She licked her lips. “Not if I have you to keep me company.”

  “You want to live together?”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  Nick could tell she was keeping her tone light, her words double-edged, just in case. “I love you, too, Isabel Grayson. I always have and I always will. And nothing would make me happier than to start a life with you.”

  He kissed her to seal the deal, and she wrapped her long, lovely legs around his back. As he levered her in the hot seat so he could better get to her, the red eye on the camera seemed to wink at him.

  The tape was still rolling….

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8118-3

  IMPROPER CONDUCT

  Copyright © 2002 by Patricia Pinianski.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Visit us at www.eHarlequin.com