by Shirley Wine
‘Look who’s talking.’
Their raised voices brought heads swivelling in their direction.
Keir saw the curious glances and, muttering an angry oath, he turned on his heel and strode out of the barn into the pale winter sunlight. His chest rose and fell on each harsh breath, creating little puffs of steam in the chilly air. His angry strides halted at the rails of the broodmare paddocks. The mares, bellies distended with unborn foals, looked up as he stalked to the rail, then with total disdain lowered their heads and continued to graze.
Isn’t that the story of my life.
As he leaned over the rail, his father’s words taunted him. You’re hitching a rocket ride to hell.
A mirthless laugh escaped him. His father would know all about rocket rides to hell, after so many years married to the biggest bitch ever to walk on earth. And Caine didn’t know the least of it. Keir had been to hell—nothing life could throw at him could ever be worse. Keir gripped the rails, eyes closed, and his ex-wife’s treachery slammed him all over again. Grief threatened his composure. Even after all this time, disbelief at her inherently evil action dogged him.
Was that why I came to this area of Darkhaven?
He opened his eyes and watched the broodmares graze. A soft sugar-brown mare, whose coat was the same colour as Victoria’s hair, lifted her head, whinnied, and ambled over to the rail to sniff at his hand.
Logan and Victoria.
Now there was hell, wearing a different coat.
‘Sugar Candy’s looking for a treat.’ Logan spoke near his elbow.
Keir gave a start. ‘I’ve never been one to carry horse treats in my pockets.’
Logan delved into his jacket pocket and brought out a carrot. ‘She loves sugar cubes but now she’s pregnant the only treats she gets are healthy ones.’
The mare sniffed at the carrot and with a muffled snort took what was on offer.
‘You still love the horses?’
Logan chuckled softly. ‘Do leopards have spots?’
Silence settled as they watched the horses. Logan half turned to Keir. ‘What were you and Dad arguing about?’
‘The usual.’ Keir scuffed his boot against the wooden railing. ‘He wants to apologise—’
‘—and you won’t have a bar of it.’
‘That about sums it up.’
Silence settled. The mare leaned over the rail and nudged Logan’s arm. He reached up and stroked her nose. ‘Why don’t you like horses? Caine loves them.’
Keir laughed, the sound decidedly hollow. ‘There’s your answer.’
‘Dad loves horses,’ Logan said slowly, ‘so you’re required to hate them? Have I got that right?’
‘God, that sounds so stupid, so bloody juvenile, when you say it out loud.’ Keir turned around and leaned his back against the rail. ‘Are you serious about Victoria?’
Logan laughed as he stroked the mare’s nose, and the low sound of amusement scraped across Keir’s bruised feelings like fingernails on chalkboard.
‘I’d wondered when you’d bring the conversation around to her.’
Keir hated that his brother nailed him so easily. ‘Do you love her?’
‘What’s not to love? Victoria’s hardworking, trustworthy and loyal to a fault. And one of the best damn friends I’ve ever had. Does that answer your question?’
Keir ground his teeth in frustration. He wanted to pick Logan up by the scruff of the neck and shake him until his damned secrets came loose.
‘You can’t do it, you know.’
‘Do what?’
‘Shake my secrets out of me anymore, like you used to.’
Keir couldn’t help it, a laugh broke loose and he met Logan’s grin with one of his own. ‘You’re no longer that skinny little runt.’
Logan shook his head, laughing as he levered himself off the rails. ‘Did you know that I used to get so impatient for the holidays? I’d wait for hours at the gate when you were due to arrive.’
‘Why?’ Keir quirked a curious brow, surprised by his brother’s admission. ‘I treated you abominably.’
‘Not always.’ Logan grinned, shaking his head. ‘You were my hero, my big brother. And we had a heck of a lot of fun, too. Don’t you remember our trolley derbies, bike races, the barbecues by the river and building tree huts?’
‘You know, I’d almost forgotten about all that.’ Keir was surprised by Logan’s candid recall of so many happier memories.
As they walked side by side toward the barn, Logan stopped and gave Keir a sober look. ‘You know, I used to envy you.’
‘Envy me?’ Keir gave a bitter laugh. ‘What the hell was there in my life to envy? You were the one who had it all.’
‘You were so grown up and went away to school. To me, then, that was the epitome of sophistication.’ Logan shook his head, hands thrust deep in his pockets. ‘Now, I realise you were shunted off to boarding school because my mother hated you.’
Logan’s frankness shocked Keir and he was at a loss as to how to reply. ‘You aren’t responsible for your mother’s actions.’
‘I know, but then neither were you. But rest assured, Keir, no kid of mine will be treated as you were. Nor would I ever inflict a bitch of a stepmother on an innocent child.’
Logan’s unexpected vehemence startled Keir. ‘Why do I get the feeling that’s not an idle comment?’
Logan paused, shook his head then said very quietly, ‘It wasn’t, but I’ve said too much already.’
‘Does this have anything to do with Victoria?’
The look Logan levelled at him reminded Keir forcibly of his father and of just how close these two men were. ‘If you want to know anything about Victoria or what’s going on in her life then ask her, Keir. Don’t ask me.’
Keir laughed, the harsh sound startling a bird in the hedgerow. ‘What makes you think she’d willingly share anything with me?’
Logan pulled his hands from his pockets, lifted them and then let them fall, his expression hard and watchful. It took all of Keir’s self-control not to fidget under that penetrating look.
‘I’d say that would depend entirely on what you’re asking, and why.’
That Logan was right did little to ease Keir’s frustration.
‘But before you blunder in asking questions, Keir, you need to be sure you’re prepared for whatever answers you find.’
With those cryptic words, Logan strode off.
Just what am I meant to take from that? Keir watched Logan disappear into the barn, for the first time truly aware of the change in his younger brother.
Unless you ask the right questions, you’ll never get the right answers. Dan’s words mocked him.
Keir rocked back on his heels and lifted his eyes skywards. But what are the right questions, old man?
***
Escaping from the house, Victoria sought the sanctuary and privacy afforded by Darkhaven’s extensive gardens. She skirted a bank of shrubs and trees that framed the formal lawns and, finding a stone seat set back from one of the bark-strewn paths, stooped to brush it clear of twigs and other debris and sit down. She was trembling with reaction.
That scene with Logan’s mother was like something out of a bad novel.
Nausea swirled in Victoria’s stomach, and she scrubbed a hand down her face as she exhaled a shaky breath. A movement beside her brought her head up. Her stomach clenched as Keir sat on the seat beside her. She wasn’t ready for yet another confrontation.
His saturnine smile was not reassuring. ‘Not as happy as you claim?’
The mocking words made her edge away and run a sweaty palm down the leg of her jeans. ‘Come again?’
His hand circled her wrist. ‘Why, the lovebirds of course.’
Victoria glanced in the direction he indicated and her spirits dived. Logan and Piper were leaning against the railing fence of the gardens, backs toward them, arms entwined and heads touching as they talked. They were totally absorbed in each other.
Logan, how cou
ld you do this to me? Couldn’t you find someplace else to make out?
‘Piper’s a lovely young woman.’ Victoria struggled to keep her voice neutral.
Keir had the nerve to laugh as his grip on her wrist tightened. ‘I’m not arguing, but it makes me curious as to why my brother escorted you here this weekend.’
Victoria resisted the urge to bolt. His curiosity made her very nervous. ‘Maybe he wanted to make Piper jealous.’
Keir considered her flippant words. ‘That I don’t believe.’
‘Then you’ll have to ask Logan.’
‘I have, but my little brother clams up tighter than an oyster when your name comes up.’
‘So that’s why you’re grilling me.’ She pulled her hand free. ‘I owe you nothing.’
‘Am I claiming it? Don’t overestimate your hold on me.’
She rubbed at the red marks on her wrist. ‘You’ve made your intentions more than plain.’
‘I’m glad you’re being sensible.’
He laughed, and the humourless sound made her very uneasy.
He thinks I’m being sensible?
If she was sensible, she’d have insisted Logan take her home that first night, and she’d have run as fast as she could. Now, she’d dug herself into a deep hole. She wished it was possible to back up and start the weekend over again. Looking through the shrubs, she saw Logan and Piper moving away.
‘How do you manage to look so bewitchingly innocent? Has there been no one else?’
The wry questions startled her into looking at Keir. ‘How is that any of your business?’
‘Is Logan your lover?’
‘Is Davina yours?’
‘Touché!’ He held up a hand in defeat. ‘Why do you think she’s so upset about you?’
Upset? Surely Keir should be more worried that Davina could be jealous?
If this much tension existed between my fiancé and another woman I would be as jealous as hell.
Jealousy implied care. Victoria had serious doubts that love or care existed in Davina’s relationship with Keir. Possessiveness or prestige maybe. As for Keir …
She shook her head. ‘Don’t do it. You’ll be so unhappy married to that woman.’
His generous lips twisted. ‘How naive you are. Every marriage is a trade-off, my dear: sex for money and diamonds, and a life of pampered ease. You’re a dreamer if you haven’t worked this out.’
Who or what had turned the kind, generous man she’d known that summer into this cynical, embittered man?
‘Was your marriage like that?’
‘My marriage is over and it’s not up for discussion, now or ever.’
The harsh, uncompromising statement made Victoria sure that his defunct marriage was behind his engagement to Davina. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms while her restless foot stirred the sodden carpet of rotting leaves. Overhead, a blackbird sang its merry song.
‘I know one thing: I will never marry unless it’s for love,’ she said vehemently. ‘I want what my parents had. You could warm your hands on their love.’
‘And yet your father remarried so soon after your mother’s death.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘So much for eternal love.’
‘My mother wasn’t selfish. She wouldn’t want my dad to be alone forever.’
‘It’s said that women mourn and men replace. Are you like your father?’
No way was she prepared to touch that loaded comment. She scuffed her shoes in the leaf litter, the scrunching sound loud in the brittle silence.
‘Logan did let one thing slip,’ he said eventually. ‘You live alone. Why?’
Hot words trembled on Victoria’s tongue, but caution held them back. ‘How I live is none of your business.’
His intent scrutiny increased her nervousness. ‘You don’t have a lover?’
‘Not your business, Keir.’ The ice in her voice would have frozen a lesser man.
‘Ouch!’ He made a great show of rubbing his hands. ‘I robbed you of your virginity. It concerns me that the experience has soured you of a normal sex life.’
‘Robbed?’ She stared at him, incredulous. ‘Are you delusional as well as jaded?’
‘I’ve never been more serious.’
‘I was there, Keir, and there’s nothing wrong with my memory. When we became lovers, it was a mutual decision.’ She held up a hand. ‘And before you say it, I wasn’t too young to know my own mind.’
‘Maybe not, but you were inexperienced.’
‘Something you soon rectified.’
He laughed and mortified heat flooded up her neck to her face.
‘Watch you don’t trip over your almighty ego,’ she said acidly. ‘I haven’t been scared off sex, if that’s what you’re implying. I’ve just never found a man I like well enough to go to bed with.’
He laughed. It was a great, booming belly laugh, and his dark eyes sparkled with merriment.
Damn! Why do I allow my temper to control my tongue?
‘If you want to deflate my ego, Victoria, that’s not the way to do it.’
Her weak, chagrined laugh mingled with his and he slanted a wicked, knowing smile in her direction as he leaned back against the seat, long jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles. She stole a glance at him and found him watching her. Her breathing grew shallow. The weak winter sunshine glinted off his sable hair, highlighting red and gold among its darker strands. When he was relaxed like this, he was more like the man she’d known and fallen in love with.
‘That doesn’t mean I’m prepared to become your lover while you’re committed to another woman.’
‘So what will tempt you to come to my bed?’
‘That’s for me to know, and you to guess.’
He caught her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘So tell me, Tori, what’s been happening in your life since our summer of bliss?’
Our summer of bliss.
The words laid a soothing balm over her bruised heart, but cold, hard reality warned that it would be far too easy to let this moment morph into a tender moment of intimacy. She tugged her hand free.
‘I share my life with my friends. Not with ex-lovers who are committed elsewhere.’
His expression hardened and he stared off into the distance, his dark brows drawn together in a heavy frown. ‘So you’ve made very plain.’
She scanned his averted profile, unsure what she sought. ‘Do you love Davina?’
Keir glanced at her, his dark eyes glittering through eyelids half lowered, his expression not at all friendly. ‘Is that any of your business?’
Damn!
What else did she expect after her earlier snub?
Victoria eased in a shaky breath and caught the distinctive tang of barberry hedge clippings burning as smoke drifted from a fire somewhere nearby, carried on an eddying breeze.
She sneaked another glance at Keir’s forbidding profile. Even seated he towered over her. Did he regard her questions as prurient curiosity? Of course he did. How could he be expected to know she had a vested interest in his answer?
‘Davina and I have a mutual agreement,’ he admitted in a clipped voice, goaded by her silence.
‘It’s not a love match?’
For long moments she thought he wasn’t going to answer.
‘I tried love and found it to be a very hollow coin,’ he said dryly as he rose to his feet and surveyed her with sardonic amusement. ‘Donovans want their CEO to be a married man, and I need a competent hostess.’
Seated, Victoria felt distinctly disadvantaged, so she rose and faced him. ‘And Davina?’
‘She wants to be mistress of Dunstan.’
Keir owns Dunstan?
Victoria stared at him, stunned. The imposing mansion on the outskirts of Cambridge had won the coveted Master Builders Design Award and had been featured in the latest Home Beautiful magazine. She’d heard scuttlebutt that the mansion had recently changed hands for a breathtaking amount of money.
To Keir?
Vic
toria inhaled a shaken breath. She knew he was wealthy, but she didn’t know he was rich. Of course Davina would covet the prestige of becoming mistress of Dunstan.
‘I want an heir and a calm future,’ he said, his tone quiet and conversational. ‘We both have clear boundaries, with no messy emotions to confuse things.’
The words lodged like a knife in Victoria’s heart. She thrust clenched fists into her jacket pockets. Keir was marrying Davina to have a child?
You already have an heir, Keir.
Our son.
But because you lied to me, you don’t even know Connor exists.
Jealousy and fear, the likes of which she’d never known, consumed Victoria.
In a moment of clear insight, she saw her mistake. By not telling Keir of Connor’s existence she’d created this nightmare. Afraid of betraying herself, Victoria turned to walk away.
Keir caught her hand, preventing her flight. ‘What is it?’
She looked up at him and tears blurred her vision. With a choked cry, she yanked herself free and fled. She needed time and privacy to figure out how she could extricate herself from this tangled mess.
Chapter Eight
Victoria was ready and waiting long before Logan knocked on her door to escort her downstairs for pre-dinner drinks. Tonight, she’d selected another An’Ville creation, also a gift from Daphne. This one was a knee-length dress in green and gold silk jersey. The delicate fabric hugged every curve, and the deep heart-shaped neckline revealed her cleavage.
Wow, I actually have cleavage.
She preened in front of the mirror, grinning. The new uplift bra Daphne had encouraged her to buy really worked.
The next time I see Daphne I’m going to give her a big hug.
Victoria had spent considerable time on her hair and make-up. The French pleat, secured with a 1930s silver and crystal hair glide she’d inherited from her mother, was elegant. The tendrils of hair she’d allowed to escape softened the severe style. The matching crystal and silver necklace, bracelet and drop earrings accentuated the slender column of her neck, and three-inch heels gave her much needed height.
She surveyed her reflection with a satisfied smile and knew that while she didn’t possess Davina’s height or Nordic beauty, she wasn’t so shabby either.
