Tell Me No Lies

by Shirley Wine

  Victoria glanced involuntarily in Logan’s direction. Piper’s generous mouth thinned with temper and she stalked off. Victoria’s breast rose on a harshly indrawn breath as her gaze skittered away and then, as if drawn by a magnetic force, her gaze came back to Keir’s. His expression made nerves jitterbug in her belly.

  ***

  ‘Very clever. Who are you planning to disrupt next?’ Keir pinned Victoria with a scorching glance.

  Her lush lower lip was caught in uneven white teeth. ‘I never intended to disrupt anything.’

  He had to lean closer to catch her murmured words and she turned her head. Their gazes locked—everything else did as well.

  Time. His breathing. His heartbeat.

  ‘Your presence is disruption enough.’

  Desire shimmered, filling the air and heightening all his senses. To his chagrin, he discovered he was no more able to control the heat, the desire that this woman aroused in him, than he’d been able to all those years ago.

  God! She must be a throwback to some witch.

  Her clinging red gown fired every fantasy he’d ever possessed.

  And she felt the attraction, too. The evidence was there in her quick shallow breaths, the flush on her skin, the pulse hammering at the base of her throat, and her wide, scared golden eyes.

  Was she remembering their earlier kiss? Heat and blood went south. He was so hard, his teeth ached.

  She’s my brother’s woman.

  The skin between his shoulderblades prickled, and he glanced down the room and saw Muriel and Davina standing so close, their heads almost touched. Davina and Muriel … he frowned and dismissed the thought. Later he’d worry about their apparent closeness, but now apprehension robbed him of breath. Was he the subject under discussion?

  ‘If there’s a God of retribution he must be laughing like crazy at my expense right about now,’ he muttered in a driven undertone. ‘Why did you have to come back into my life?’

  He had to get out of here. Get her out of here.

  Another glance assured him Muriel and Davina were in animated discussion with a third woman and, seizing the chance, he caught Victoria’s wrist and pulled her through the nearest doorway.

  ‘Let me go.’ She struggled against his hold and he could feel the frantic race of the pulse at her wrist.

  Ignoring her demand and her struggles, he drew her through a side door, along the corridor and into a deserted room. Once there, he turned the key in the lock. He had no intention of being either disturbed or discovered in this encounter with his brother’s woman.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Her voice was high and squeaky.

  ‘What I’ve wanted to do from the moment I saw you at Logan’s side.’ The words tumbled past his reserve. He had to taste those lips. He caught her shoulders, crushing her against him, and kissed her with all the hunger that was in him. When she softened and responded, he gentled the kiss and deepened it. At last he lifted his head and rested his forehead against hers. Her chest rose and fell with each agitated breath, affording him a great view of her small, perfectly rounded breasts.

  ‘What are you, Victoria? Some damn witch sent to drive a sane man crazy?’

  ‘You’re the crazy one.’

  He laughed harshly. ‘Tell me something I don’t already know.’

  ‘I don’t want this.’

  The husky torment in her voice had him dropping his hands and putting the width of the room between them.

  God, what has come over me and where is my calm good sense?

  The tip of a pink tongue peeped out to touch her kiss-stung lips and he was forced to exert merciless self-control to yank his libido back in line before he was reduced to howling at the moon.

  This woman had him completely off balance.

  He raked a hand through his hair, tugging a hank hard until the pain centred him.

  He fought for control, his chest rising and falling on each harshly indrawn breath. If he’d thought that his ex-wife had killed every tender emotion he possessed, meeting Victoria again challenged this misconception and forced him to rethink.

  His libido and emotions were far from dead.

  Some malevolent god up there must be staring down on him, crowing and rubbing its hands with glee.

  So much for my planned calm and settled future …

  ‘You can’t marry that iceberg, Keir. Don’t do that to yourself.’

  He had to lean closer to catch her soft, raspy words, and then their meaning cascaded over him and doused his ardour faster than being ducked in icy water.

  Is this why she’s here? Is she trying to manipulate me with sex? Never again will I dance to that tune.

  It was time, and more, to let this little witch know where his priorities lay. He needed an ordered life, a calm existence, without any emotional extremes. Completely off balance and desperate to regain control, he turned on Victoria. ‘Davina’s my fiancée and we will be married.’

  Victoria’s determined chin lifted and those delectable lips thinned. ‘Then expend your sexual hunger on her, not me.’

  A silent laugh mocked him. As if?

  ‘Your choice.’ He spread his hands wide. ‘If you mean that, then stay out of my way. Or better yet, leave.’

  Victoria, after one scorching glance, turned and left.

  In the ensuing silence, the click of the lock as she turned the key and opened the door was overly loud.

  Alone, Keir gripped the back of his neck. Hellfire, he was trembling. He looked at the ceiling and laughed, the sound devoid of humour.

  He walked across to the sideboard and poured himself a stiff whisky, tossed it back in one swallow and, with a fatalistic sense of inevitability, he returned to join the party. Of all the women in the world, why had Logan chosen to bring Victoria Scanlan to Darkhaven as his guest?

  He intended to corner his brother and find out.

  Chapter Four

  After a restless, haunted night, Victoria slid out of bed and padded to the window. Opening it, she leaned out, desperate to breathe some fresh air after a night in this stuffy atmosphere.

  A grey dawn lent a pearly luminescence to the grounds of Darkhaven. Oak, chestnut and ginkgo trees reared above the shawl of mist clinging to the earth.

  She took a slow, deep breath and caught the distinctive smell of horses and stables sharp on the chilly air. She could hear stable boys exercising horses on a sand track, and the familiar sound brought back memories of home, and with it a pang of homesickness. Voices grew louder as riders swept close to the homestead at one point, the thunder of galloping hooves echoing eerily in the fog.

  She sighed, a sound filled with longing.

  God, I miss the horses.

  Now that she lived in town and could no longer ride every day, the once familiar smells and sounds were akin to torture. Surely no-one would care if she went to the stables. She dressed in jeans soft with wearing, and sturdy sneakers that would serve as riding boots in a pinch. She pulled on a fleecy shirt of dusky rose before unbraiding her hair and giving it a vigorous brushing.

  The soft brown curtain of her hair almost concealed her body, and with the deftness that comes with a lot of practice she rebraided it, the intricate plait reaching midway down her back. Somewhere a clock chimed six. It was too long to wait for breakfast so she slipped downstairs and went in search of the kitchen, only to find it already alive with activity.

  ‘Could I make a cup of tea?’ Victoria asked hopefully.

  The housekeeper turned sharply, a hand clutching her ample breast. ‘My, but you gave me a fright. You’re up with the sparrows. Mr Keir’s having tea in the breakfast room. I’ll fetch another cup. He won’t mind if you join him.’

  I wouldn’t bank on that.

  Victoria followed the woman, and Keir, clearly startled by the interruption, stood as she entered the room.

  ‘You’re an early riser.’ His dark eyebrows climbed with surprise. ‘Do you want a cuppa?’

  ‘If it won’t disturb you?’ She
hesitated, not wanting to precipitate another clash.

  ‘Just being in the same house does that.’

  Heat crept up her cheeks and for a moment she hovered on the brink of flight.

  ‘Sit down,’ he growled, pulling out a chair. When she sat down, he followed suit. ‘Milk?’

  ‘Please.’ She added sugar, and too aware of his scrutiny, concentrated on stirring her tea rather than meet his shrewd eyes.

  ‘Was your hair always that long?’

  The unexpected question made her splutter and cast him a dark look. ‘You know it wasn’t. After my mother died I never had it cut, and then my hairdresser persuaded me to keep it long.’

  ‘A man of sense.’

  ‘What makes you so certain it was a man?’ His smug words irritated her.

  ‘A man understands how sensual a lover finds long hair on a woman.’ He chuckled when fiery colour flooded her cheeks. ‘Will you unbind it for me?’

  ‘No.’ She looked at him in chilling reproof. ‘Are you forgetting your fiancée again?’

  His black brows descended and dark eyes glittered with irritation. Her breath lodged in her throat as she stared at him in horrified fascination.

  Connor wore that exact expression when he was out of temper.

  ‘Why are you staring at me like that? I won’t harm you. What sort of animal do you think I am?’

  There were no words to explain and she shook her head, eyes burning. Unless she confessed, he couldn’t understand. And while she was a guest here in his father’s house there was no way she would admit to being the mother of his child. There were already far too many baffling undercurrents swirling around the people who lived here.

  ‘I’ve never thought of you like that. Ever!’

  His anger ebbed and his wide shoulders drooped. This fleeting glimpse of vulnerability left her uneasy.

  He pushed away from the table. ‘I’m going for a walk. This house gives me claustrophobia. Do you want to come?’

  So I’m not the only one who feels it.

  Did she want to spend time with him? One part of her mind clamoured a fervent yes, but the cautious part remained wary and hesitant. What the hell—she looked at him and nodded.

  ‘It’s cold out, have you a warm jacket?’

  She did, but it was upstairs and she was loath to break this moment, afraid he’d withdraw the tentative invitation. ‘I’ll be okay.’

  ‘There are plenty of jackets in the mud room, come with me and I’ll get you one.’

  As she followed him she wondered if she’d completely lost her mind.

  He pulled a jacket from the coat stand and held it for her to slip into. His hand brushed her neck as he settled the collar around her throat and flicked her braid outside the coat.

  At his touch, a shiver goosestepped across her skin.

  For one timeless moment he framed her face with big hands, and then with a muttered imprecation he stepped aside and opened the door for her to precede him.

  She took a long, slow breath when she stepped out into the crisp winter dawn. The fluttering sensation in her belly was warning enough of quiescent hormones surging back to vibrant life.

  I definitely do not need this reminder now.

  Her pulse tripped, the sound of it thrumming in her ears and all but drowning out the sound of the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Their breaths formed steam wreaths above their heads in the chilly air, and from here the stables appeared merely as grotesque shapes in the mist.

  Keir was first to break the silence. ‘Logan and Dad are down at the stables.’

  Should she tell him she was up so early in the hope that she could finagle a ride? She glanced his way and decided instead to use this unexpected meeting to gain a clearer understanding of the man who was her son’s father. What sort of influence would Keir have on her son? Twice last night, Keir’s display of volatile emotions made her too aware that he wasn’t the man she once thought she knew. Was she right to be worried?

  ‘You get on well with Logan?’

  ‘We’ve always enjoyed a close friendship. If you’re imagining that because we’re stepbrothers it’s a given that we hate each other, forget it.’

  Wow. Where did that come from? The fierce words left her shaken.

  ‘I’ve never once thought that, and whenever Logan’s mentioned you, it’s been with amused affection. Do you feel the same way about your sisters?’

  He growled. There was no other way to describe the guttural sound he made. He grabbed her arm and swung her to face him. His dark eyes glittered with supressed emotion that caught her off guard.

  ‘What the hell do you know about my sisters?’

  Bewildered, she shrugged, lifted her hands then let them fall. ‘Nothing, except that you have three of them.’

  ‘Half-sisters. Who told you about them? Logan wouldn’t, he’s too damn loyal.’

  ‘Your father told me.’

  ‘Dad told you?’ His eyes glittered with anger and betrayal.

  Upset by his reaction and unsure as to the cause, she weighed her words carefully. ‘Your father mentioned in passing last night that you had sisters.’

  ‘Were you surprised?’

  She nodded, unsure where this conversation was heading.

  ‘Then I guess you can imagine how I felt when I discovered I even had sisters.’

  Victoria stopped abruptly and stared at him in horrified disbelief. ‘You’re kidding me? Right?’

  ‘Wrong.’ His stern lips twisted in a cynical smile. ‘I discovered that my mother, who supposedly died when I was a child, was not only very much alive, but she also had another family.’

  Horrified, Victoria laced her fingers through his, not surprised by his reaction. ‘That’s just plain wicked! How could your parents do that to you?’

  ‘Very easily, it seems.’

  Keir has an uncompromising honesty, a way of looking at you, judging you …

  Sheesh! If Caine Donovan had kept a secret of this magnitude, it was small wonder he felt uncomfortable around his son. Something in Keir’s careful tone made her suspect that he’d not shared this with many people, and the wound was so obviously a painful one.

  ‘How old were you when you learned that your mother was alive?’

  ‘Seventeen.’

  She winced. Life was difficult enough at that age, what with hormones racing around your body, and trying to find your feet in an adult world. Who needed to have the foundations of their life ripped out from under them as well? ‘Why did your mother leave, do you know?’

  ‘She ran off with another man, but at four I didn’t understand. I was told she’d died.’

  ‘And of course you believed it.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

  Keir’s flat, toneless words revealed far more than he realised. His grimace tore at Victoria’s heart. They continued walking, hands entwined, and a sideways glance through the screen of her lashes caught his unguarded expression. His raw vulnerability made the breath catch in her throat.

  ‘That’s just plain wrong on so many levels. No matter what happened between your parents, you had an inalienable right to know your mother.’

  ‘Yeah, well, nobody gave Dad or Muriel that memo.’

  His venomous tone made Victoria sure that Keir’s regard for Logan didn’t extend to his stepmother … there’s nothing charming about Muriel; forget that at your peril.

  So Keir’s warning was serious. It wasn’t at all comforting to know that her instincts about the woman weren’t too far off the mark.

  ‘That was an enormous lie.’ She paused, looking up at him. ‘Surely anyone would know such pretence could be blown out of the water at any time?’

  ‘You’d think so, but I suspect that to Dad and Muriel when they orchestrated that situation, it was very much out of sight, out of mind.’

  Caine Donovan didn’t strike Victoria as stupid. Surely he must have known that such a lie carried a high risk of exposure. Did he never pause to anticipate Keir’s reac
tion?

  Who am I to judge Caine? I’m keeping just as big a secret from Keir. His son.

  ‘I guess.’

  Keir kicked a stone onto the grass verge. ‘Why should they be concerned about the rights of the child?’

  Keir’s cold, hard words made her breath hitch in her chest. Did he suspect about Connor? Would he pick up on her guilty thoughts? ‘Regardless, it’s still wrong.’

  Here’s my chance. Tell Keir about Connor.

  Not while we’re guests under his father’s roof.

  Coward!

  As she debated, Keir edged her to the right of a huge plane tree and they veered down another path in the extensive gardens.

  ‘Intellectually, I know you’re right, but practically, given Muriel’s hatred of my mother, I can understand the lie.’

  ‘How can anyone justify such dishonesty?’

  Listen to me, hypocrite that I am!

  For one moment, Victoria was tempted to blurt out the truth, but fear of Keir’s reaction squelched the urge. Would their lives be different had Keir been honest with her that summer?

  He looked at her, his expression wry. ‘You’re right, of course. Lies are usually found out.’

  The abrupt change in the conversation, and their past, swerved toward them.

  Victoria turned on him, pent up emotions finding relief in anger. ‘Tell me about it! Why did you let me think your name was Seth Donahue?’

  He had the grace to look very uncomfortable. ‘At first, it was merely a ploy, one I’d been forced to use many times before, but in my defence, my mother did always call me Seth.’

  My mother calls me Seth Donahue. That’s what he’d told her that long-ago summer. Only it was Donovan not Donahue.

  ‘Why would she call you by a different name? Why not Keir?’

  They continued walking, her hand small and secure in his. Keir’s boots crunched on the gravel, the sound loud in the early morning quiet. It seemed to Victoria that even the birds were silent, awaiting his answer.

  ‘A major difference of opinion.’ He looked at her and shrugged. ‘My mother disliked the name Keir, and my father hated Seth.’

  His matter-of-fact words left Victoria speechless. Whatever were his parents thinking, to put any child in the middle of such an awful tug-of-love? Didn’t they know how damaging such a stance would be to a young child?