Tell Me No Lies

by Shirley Wine

  His high-handed assumption that she would just move in with him angered Victoria. ‘And if I refuse?’

  Keir shrugged and the look he levelled at her sent goosebumps slithering across her skin.

  ‘Come or go, it makes no odds to me, but understand this Victoria,’ he said in a voice she’d never heard before, ‘Connor is my son and he stays with me.’

  He cut off her instinctive protest with an upraised hand.

  ‘I have missed more than five years of my son’s life and I’m damned certain I’m not about to miss even one more minute.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Victoria awoke slowly. Her head was thicker than yesterday’s porridge, her mind slow to crank into gear. Grit burned behind her eyelids.

  Even asleep she’d felt oppressed.

  It was as if a huge weight rested permanently on her chest in the region of her heart. It was a struggle to remember where she was and why she was in this strange room. A soft knock had her turning towards the door as it opened.

  ‘You’re awake?’ Keir asked quietly.

  Connor’s accident.

  Keir’s threat. A shiver crawled across her skin. That sleeping pill.

  It was small wonder she felt so rotten. As her memories crashed back, she bolted upright, clutching at the sheet. ‘Connor?’

  ‘I’ve just checked in with his doctors and he’s demanding breakfast even as we speak.’

  Victoria released a quick, relieved breath. If Connor was demanding food, he must be feeling more like himself. Her anxiety faded some, but it increased as Keir stepped into the room carrying her suitcase, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Dad brought your things over earlier.’

  She nodded, unsure of his mood. He seemed a little more relaxed, but the sting of his threat over Connor made her wary.

  ‘My chauffeur will be ready to take you to the hospital at ten. I have to go into the office early. The Donovans board has called an emergency meeting, and as CEO I have to attend.’

  Her pulse did a little one-two skip. ‘Over your broken engagement?’

  ‘It’s a little more complicated than that, but my guess is that they’ve read the morning papers.’

  Ohmigod.

  His impassive expression and dark, emotionless eyes had apprehension twisting her gut in knots. There was no sign of the passionate lover, the friend she’d confided in or the compassionate man she’d drawn strength from during the vigil at their son’s bedside.

  This man was a forbidding stranger.

  The bruise on his freshly shaven jaw was now interesting shades of purple and yellow, and one eye was still puffy and his cheek swollen.

  She winced and lowered her gaze. ‘But why should something so personal necessitate an emergency board meeting?’

  ‘Donovans is a banking and investment brokerage. Their business is built on the base of strong moral and family values,’ he explained in a clipped voice. ‘As such, they insist on a high standard for their executives. Any scandal involving board members impacts on their reputation.’

  Scandal? Just what the hell is in the newspapers?

  ‘Why do you allow them to put you through these hoops? You’re the CEO and surely wield the ultimate power.’

  Keir walked to the window, looking out. He was so still he could have been a carved statue.

  She would feel better about this situation if he’d paced or showed some sign of restiveness. Unable to stand the tension a moment longer, she slid out of bed, reached for the towelling dressing gown draped over a chair and belted it on.

  At last he turned to face her. ‘After my grandfather’s death, Dad inherited eighty per cent of Donovans and I inherited the balance. Dad hates the business and it wasn’t long before he ceded control to the board. When he did so, he had the foresight to make the CEO accountable to the board.’

  She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘Then, maybe. Now it’s a cursed liability.’

  The grim cast of features increased her nervousness. It was not the first time she gained the impression that Donovans expected Keir to adhere to a ridiculously high standard.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Donovans was my grandfather’s life.’

  She nodded. From the little he’d told her, she’d gathered that he’d been very close to his grandfather.

  ‘It appears that after I went to America, Dad decided to expand Darkhaven and did a partial float of Donovans to raise the capital. Since my return I’ve discovered he’s steadily divested shares and now owns less than a third. Before my return, Dad was set to sell his remaining shares in a merger with a big Australian outfit.’

  This bald recital of facts made Victoria nervous. ‘And you didn’t want that to happen?’

  ‘Once it’s sold, or merged it’s gone forever.’ He shrugged and turned away.

  Victoria stared at his rigid back with dawning comprehension. Strained though his relationship was with his father, the family business meant enough to Keir that he’d returned home rather than see Donovans disappear.

  ‘I take it you still have your shares?’

  ‘I do,’ he said grimly, turning to face her again. ‘And Dad has agreed to sell me his, but combined we now control less than fifty per cent.’

  Keir’s expression increased the jittery sensation in her gut. ‘So who owns the remainder?’

  ‘After some digging, I’ve discovered that a company has been steadily buying up any shares that come on the market, a company that’s a front for an anonymous investor.’

  Victoria hazarded a guess. ‘Someone related to Davina?’

  ‘Her father.’ Keir gave her a narrow-eyed glare. ‘This brouhaha could well see Donovans subjected to a hostile takeover.’

  Victoria swallowed but the knot of tension didn’t budge. Had Keir intended to marry Davina to enable him to regain control of Donovans? Was he that cold and calculating?

  He had the reputation as being a ruthless bastard even then. Her father’s words were a hollow echo.

  The doubts rooted in her mind just that little deeper.

  ‘I didn’t know,’ she muttered, stuffing her clenched fists into the pockets of the borrowed dressing gown. ‘How much of Donovans does Davina’s father own?’

  ‘Not enough to stage a hostile takeover, but now he may think he has enough ammunition to influence several board members to sell him their shares.’

  ‘Surely they’d offer them to you first?’

  ‘After this scandal?’

  The look he gave her made Victoria go hot all over then icy cold.

  Why did I give into impulse? It’s created so much trouble.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry?’ The word exploded from him and exposed his deep-seated anger. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Connor that first night when I came to your room?’

  ‘Meeting you at Darkhaven gave me one hell of a shock,’ she muttered, resisting the urge to fidget.

  ‘And that was reason enough to lie through your teeth?’

  ‘I never once told you a lie,’ she retorted, stung.

  ‘Didn’t you?’ He stepped closer.

  Victoria resisted the urge to retreat as she met his turbulent gaze. He would read any sign of weakness as a victory and this would be a grave mistake.

  ‘I may have omitted a few details, but I never lied.’

  ‘A few details?’ He thrust a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled. ‘You consider conceiving and bearing my child isn’t something important enough to share with me?’

  ‘No! I never thought that, not for one moment.’

  He paced across to the window and back. ‘Then what the hell were you thinking?’

  Confronted by this justifiably angry man, Victoria was too aware of the rapid race of her heart as she surreptitiously wiped sweaty palms on the towelling bathrobe.

  If I know Keir, he will tolerate anything but lies. Logan had warned her and now that it was too late,
Victoria wished she’d been open with Keir from the moment she’d realised he was her Seth. She took a long, slow breath. It took all her willpower to meet his dark eyes without flinching and she fought a compulsive urge to babble.

  ‘That night, I knew you needed to know about Connor, but rightly or wrongly, I decided it would be better for everyone concerned if I waited until we were no longer guests in your father’s house.’

  His penetrating gaze didn’t waver.

  Once as a child Victoria had impaled a butterfly on a pin. When the insect had tried to escape she’d watched its struggles in horrified fascination as she held her hands over her mouth. Her mother, alerted by some mysterious maternal radar, had walked in. She’d taken in the scene at a glance, crushed the butterfly and delivered Victoria a sound spanking.

  As she faced Keir, Victoria felt real sympathy for that butterfly.

  ‘You didn’t know who I was?’ He was first to break the silence.

  Victoria swallowed, trying to clear the constriction in her throat, instinctively knowing her whole future, her son’s future, rested on her answer.

  I didn’t know, but I’m almost certain Logan did.

  She shoved aside that thought.

  ‘Had I known, or even guessed at your identity, Keir, I’d have found you long before Connor was born.’ She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘God knows, I tried hard enough to find Seth Donahue.’

  There was a shift in his stance, so subtle she wondered if she’d imagined it.

  ‘Yeah well, I explained that.’ He rubbed the back of his neck.

  How like a man to try and claim the moral high ground. She gave a loud, derisive snort. ‘You lied to me, Keir, and that lie is the root cause of this whole debacle. At least I’ve owned my fault.’

  He lifted a hand, acknowledging the hit. ‘And later? After that first meeting at Darkhaven?’

  Why is it that hindsight is always so darn clear? Victoria took a slow, shallow breath. ‘Later, I realised I’d made a mistake.’

  ‘A mistake that you had ample opportunity to rectify.’

  This was unanswerable. There had been numerous opportunities to tell Keir about his son. But she’d lacked the courage, pure and simple.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re sorry?’ He gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Had you told me about Connor, maybe I could have prevented this whole tasteless debacle.’

  What the heck was in the papers that had so many people stirred up? And given what Keir had just disclosed, could he have averted this scandal?

  Victoria had her doubts.

  Once her path had crossed Keir’s, Connor’s existence could never remain secret. As far as she could see, the only positive thing to come out of this fiasco was that her child would never be subjected to Davina’s malice.

  ‘How damaging is it?’

  ‘The coverage is extensive and at a guess I’d say the board is not thrilled.’ As he opened the door he gave her a grimly amused smile. ‘I would suggest you fortify yourself with breakfast before you read the paper.’

  Her anxiety spiked and, remembering the scrum at the hospital, she asked, ‘How can I get in to see Connor?’

  ‘I’ve made arrangements for you to use a private entrance. If you are accosted keep your head down and your lips zipped.’

  She waited as he hesitated.

  ‘Don’t speak or interact with the staff unless it directly concerns Connor and his care. And Victoria …’

  The hard edge to his voice made her mouth go dry.

  ‘Remember that anything you say, even the most innocuous comment, will be leaked to the media and misconstrued. Okay?’

  Victoria lowered her head, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind her temples. This was far worse than she’d feared. Keir lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, his expression gentling. ‘This will die down. The essential thing to remember is that here at Dunstan and at the hospital both you and Connor are safe.’

  ‘You think we’re in danger?’

  ‘Not exactly in danger, but after today neither of you are anonymous.’

  He glanced at his watch again. ‘Mrs Teague will make you breakfast when you’re ready. You can trust her, implicitly. Don’t answer the phone, your cell or step outside the gates alone. I’ve arranged for a bodyguard to escort you to and from the hospital. Okay?’

  She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Is that necessary?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘What about my business? My flat?’

  ‘We’ll discuss those later. I have to go, but I want your promise that you’ll cooperate.’

  His seriousness was enough to ensure her cooperation. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll see you later.’ With a nod and another of those grim smiles, he left.

  For long, fraught minutes, Victoria stared at that closed door.

  The temptation to crawl back into bed and hide under the bedclothes until this storm blew itself out was overwhelming. But hiding could not shield her from this new reality.

  Damn Logan and his manipulation.

  She showered and dressed, thankful for Caine’s thoughtfulness, but she’d very soon need more clothes than she had in her weekend case.

  Going downstairs, she paused for a moment, admiring the spacious dimensions of Keir’s house. Last night she’d been too tired to gain more than a hazy sense of her surroundings.

  She paused with her hand on the newel post.

  Last night Keir had ushered her into that spacious bedroom, shut the door and left her there alone when all she’d really wanted was to be held and comforted, and reassured that their child was going to be okay. Given the passion they’d shared at Darkhaven, his actions last night had come as something of a shock. And again this morning he’d been so aloof.

  This detachment left Victoria deeply troubled.

  The shiver that shook her had nothing to do with the beautiful home but rather the man who was master of it.

  The stairs seemed to float down to an open atrium, a space considerably larger than the entire floor space of the flat she shared with Connor. Sunshine streamed in through the wide windows and made the polished wooden floor gleam. A jewel-coloured Persian rug set off the pale surface of the wood. To one side of the solid wooden front door a stained-glass window created beams of coloured light. On the opposite side there was a sturdy wrought-iron and glass table. On it stood a beaten silver bowl of roses, their perfume heavy on the warm air. A few petals had fallen on the glass tabletop, adding to their charm.

  Victoria bent to inhale the heady perfume. These must be the last roses of the season. There was nothing fake about these flowers.

  On the wall above the table was an abstract painting. It was huge; its swirling design of pale salmon, dusky pink and sage to moss green intrigued her.

  The ambience of this house oozed wealth, and as she looked about Victoria sensed the definite flair of a feminine hand.

  Davina’s?

  Jealousy ripped at Victoria’s composure and she fought a fierce, overwhelming urge to destroy everything in this perfectly decorated home, a reaction that left her more than a little shell-shocked. What was happening to her?

  For so long, her life had revolved around work and Connor, but since meeting Keir this calm, orderly existence had spiralled out of control. She had no idea how to deal with her messy jumble of emotions.

  She sucked in a slow, deep breath and then another, but this did little to calm the inner turmoil ripping her apart. Nor did rubbing her palms up and down the soft denim of her well-worn jeans. While Dunstan did not have the oppressive atmosphere that prevailed at Darkhaven, she held few illusions.

  This was Keir’s home and she was here on sufferance.

  Come or go Victoria, it makes no odds to me, but my son stays.

  The memory of Keir’s coldly delivered threat made her skin go clammy.

  She may not be the starry-eyed girl of that long-ago summer, but neither was this hard-eyed stranger the same man. W
ould Keir contest custody of her son? Her rational mind said it would never happen, but her mother’s heart quailed.

  Who or what had changed him? The woman he’d married and refused to discuss?

  A plump, grey-haired woman bustled into the hallway, and seeing Victoria standing on the bottom step, she stopped abruptly.

  ‘Ms Scanlan?’ She smiled and extended a hand.

  ‘You must be Mrs Teague.’ Victoria shook the woman’s hand.

  ‘Mr Keir said you’d be down soon. I’ll have your breakfast ready in a jiffy. What do you normally eat at this time of the day?’

  ‘Tea and wholemeal toast.’

  She bustled ahead of Victoria, opening the door into a sunny room. ‘You make yourself comfortable. Do you like English breakfast or Earl Grey? Or do you prefer herbal tea?’

  ‘English breakfast.’ Through the French doors Victoria could see a sheltered flagstone terrace.

  ‘Marmalade?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Victoria took a deep breath. ‘And can I see the papers?’

  The way the housekeeper’s face creased with concern made Victoria’s apprehension escalate.

  ‘Mr Keir suggested you have breakfast first.’

  ‘That bad?’ Victoria grimaced but was determined.

  ‘Scurrilous.’ Mrs Teague’s broad Canadian drawl gave that one word a stinging emphasis. ‘The fiends need whipping.’

  Nausea swirled in Victoria’s belly, but she had never refused to face reality and wasn’t about to start now. She would meet this challenge like every other one she’d faced: head-on. ‘I’ll have breakfast and the papers. Pretending this situation doesn’t exist won’t make it go away.’

  The housekeeper gave her one keen look and then nodded. Victoria sensed she’d won the woman’s respect.

  Mrs Teague bustled away and returned a few minutes later with a tea tray and neatly folded newspapers. She put the papers face down on the table before unloading the tray and pouring Victoria a cup of tea.

  ‘Have your tea first, Ms Scanlan,’ she said, laying a hand on her shoulder. ‘You’ll need it.’

  ‘Please, Mrs Teague. Call me Victoria, I prefer it.’

  The woman nodded and smiled, but when Victoria reached for the first paper the housekeeper grimaced.