by Shirley Wine
Gulping, Victoria turned the paper over.
Donovan Love Child Derails Society Wedding.
Below the screaming headline was a photo of her and her father glaring at each other across the table in the hospital cafe, and beside it was a photo of Keir holding her hand at the same table. Had they been overheard? She skimmed the text, but she found no incriminating comments.
Davina’s tearful account of Keir’s betrayal left Victoria sickened. The woman had missed her calling.
Victoria was cold to the bone. Keir had to hate this very public airing of his private life.
And I’m surprised he’s so aloof.
Guilt layered on guilt.
But had I not gone to his bed he would have bedded Davina.
But would he have? Victoria rested her elbow on the table and her head on her hand as she pondered this question. Had she misjudged Keir?
In that confrontation with Davina he didn’t hesitate to admit we were lovers.
Given the explosive chemistry they shared, would Keir have made love to another woman, even if that woman was his fiancée? Victoria lifted her head and stared out the window, but the scene blurred in front of her eyes.
Quite simply, no. Keir’s integrity was rock-solid and he would never do something so … so sleazy.
And this makes me what? A total fool.
Fighting the sick sensation in the pit of her stomach, Victoria continued to peruse the papers. The next headline was smaller but no less prominent: Board Unhappy Over Latest Donovan Scandal.
Recalling Keir’s disclosures, she figured Davina’s father had to have leaked this item. What went on during board meetings was usually kept private.
Latest scandal?
Impatient, she turned the page and her breath stalled as she stared at huge photos of herself, Victorian Grace and Connor.
After today, you’re no longer anonymous.
The more she read, the angrier she became. Where and how had these snoops dredged up such intimate details of her life? Logan hadn’t escaped either—he figured as one of her many lovers.
Holy bejeebers! Sex once in six years and I’m suddenly a nymphomaniac.
If it wasn’t so humiliating, it could almost be funny.
As she turned to the full-page spread in the centre pages, she sucked in a shuddering breath. How in hell did Sundowner Press get their hands on these photos? This was a serious violation of her privacy.
Mrs Teague gripped her shoulder. ‘What is it?’
‘These photos are out of my personal photo album.’ Victoria pointed to the newspaper with a shaking finger. ‘Someone’s been in my apartment.’
‘Do you want me to contact Mr Keir?’
Did she? The photos were already in print and God knows she’d caused Keir more than enough grief without hauling him out of what could prove to be a very tense meeting.
‘It can wait. It’s not as if he can prevent them being printed.’
She glared at the pictures. Was this the work of her sleazy landlord? Was it his revenge because she’d rebuffed his advances once too often?
She turned the page and saw photos of her father and Daphne, but it was the photo of her mother that hit her with a one-two punch to the gut. Was nothing sacrosanct? How could they stoop so low as to malign a dead woman?
Victoria took a long, slow breath that did little to ease the constriction in her chest.
Thank God no-one had caught on film that punch her dad had thrown at Keir. It would have made headlines in this rag.
She turned to the next page and saw Caine and Elizabeth’s divorce rehashed in sordid detail. The latest Donovan scandal took on a whole new meaning.
Curious, Victoria read the reports.
In the divorce proceedings with Caine, Elizabeth Ellison was portrayed as a child abuser who stood accused of abusing Keir.
Victoria snorted.
And what does that make Muriel?
To her mind, the lie fed to Keir that his mother was dead, and Muriel’s malice, painted a very different picture.
Given the salacious nature of the other articles in this excuse for a newspaper, Victoria was sure that whoever put this piece together about Keir’s mother had crafted the whole article on a tissue of lies.
Victoria remembered Beth Ellison, Keir’s sister.
She was not only beautiful but also friendly and gregarious, and yet if this outrageous rag was to be believed she and her two sisters were abused children.
Victoria studied the photo of Elizabeth Ellison, and even in grainy newsprint she was beautiful and serene.
Victoria sighed softly. Who would have thought her own impulsive action would affect so many innocent bystanders?
***
Keir stood inside the conservatory watching Victoria pace back and forth across the terrace created by two wings of the house, her movements reminiscent of a caged lioness. Did she feel trapped?
‘Welcome to the club,’ he muttered under his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. The action did little to ease his discomfort. He was still smarting from the acrimonious board meeting.
Marry the woman and adopt the boy, and maybe we can limit the fallout from this scandal.
With that directive ringing in his ears, Keir stepped out onto the terrace and was immediately aware of the warmth of the winter sunshine in this sheltered spot.
Victoria’s head came up like a deer sensing danger.
Anger at the board and Victoria frayed Keir’s self-control. He did not like having his hand forced, and between this woman and Donovans he was in an impossible position.
‘How did your meeting go?’
‘It went, and that’s about all I can say.’ He regretted his sarcasm when she winced and turned away.
What was it with her always turning her back on him? Well, he’d had enough. He moved closer so she couldn’t avoid him. ‘We need to legalise our relationship and get married, the sooner the better.’
That certainly grabbed her attention.
‘Pardon?’ The slender throat that he knew tasted as sweet as cream worked and her golden eyes opened impossibly wide.
‘We need to get married.’
She laughed and the soft sound jarred against his bruised emotions. He wished he could find one single thing about this situation that was in any way amusing.
‘Is that the board’s idea of defusing this situation?’
Heat crawled up his neck. Once again he felt like a puppet with someone else pulling the strings, a sensation that made him uncomfortable. This was the reason he’d walked away from Donovans once before. He did not like being directed.
‘It was put forward as a solution.’
‘Really? And did you stop to think what sort of fuel that would add to this furore?’
Damn it, she’s right! Why didn’t I think of that?
‘Besides, I’m not some dirty little secret. I refuse to be hastily married off so you can regain respectability.’
Her scorn made heat prickle the skin on the back of his neck. ‘Thanks to your secretiveness that’s exactly what you are—a dirty secret, one that’s been blown wide open for the whole world to gawk at.’
Victoria flushed crimson then went deathly pale. With her hands fisted at her side she stepped so close he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. ‘Don’t talk to me about keeping secrets, Keir,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Had you not lied to me the summer Connor was conceived, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now.’
‘I explained that.’
‘And that makes it okay?’
‘That’s not what I’m saying; stop putting words in my mouth.’ His temper began to fray and he huffed out an impatient breath. ‘What about Connor?’
‘What about him?’ She lifted her chin, her mouth set in a stubborn line.
‘He’s my son.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
He held up a hand and sucked in a harsh breath that did nothing to ease his anger and hurt. ‘Don�
�t even try to play that card. Connor’s my son and I have the DNA results to prove it.’
Dull colour suffused her cheeks, but she still met his gaze boldly. ‘So what’s new? He was your son when he was conceived and nothing’s changed.’
For Keir this was like a lighted match to tinder.
He paced across the terrace, putting distance between them, afraid she’d test his restraint as she had the night he’d gone to her room at Darkhaven. ‘What’s new is that after this obscene length of time, I finally know that I have a son. Besides which, you could well be pregnant with another child. Those are both good reasons we should get married.’
She tilted her head and smiled. ‘Wow! You sure are cocky about your virility. But let me remind you it takes two to conceive.’ She touched the tip of her fingers to her lips in cynical mockery. ‘You need to understand that pregnancy is no longer a valid reason for marriage.’
‘I have a son who was born a bastard, Victoria; I won’t have a second child born with that label.’
Her amusement vanished and her golden eyes glittered. She stepped towards him, one hand clenched at her side. ‘Don’t you dare try and lay that on me. I tried everything within my power to find you, but the man who told me he was Seth Donahue didn’t exist.’
The unfairness got to him and in two strides he crossed the terrace until he was so close he could see darker flecks in her amber eyes. ‘What about the letter I left for you with your uncle? Didn’t it occur to you to ask him how you could contact me?’
Her chin jerked up and the gleam in her eyes intensified. ‘I’m neither naive nor eighteen, Keir. I asked Uncle Tom about you, and had you left a letter for me, don’t you think he’d have given it to me?’
‘Are you calling me a liar?’
‘If the cap fits—’
He gripped her shoulders and hauled her against himself, effectively cutting off her words. ‘I don’t lie. Ever!’
‘No?’
That one little word rubbed sideways against the crap-load of guilt he carried over what, at the time, he’d considered an innocent enough deception, a deception he’d thought he’d rectified by leaving her that letter.
‘That was an aberration, and one I’ve always regretted.’
She flinched and he let her go.
When she staggered and lifted a hand to massage her shoulder, remorse slugged him in the gut.
‘Oh God, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’
She shook her head, but her wariness didn’t fade.
‘I intended to tell you who I was that last morning,’ he said, goaded. ‘But if you recall, you were bundled into your aunt’s car and gone before we even had a chance to say goodbye.’
He raked a hand through his hair, once again caught in the grip of the same helplessness and regret he’d experienced as he’d watched her be hustled out of his life all those years ago.
Part of me has mourned your loss ever since.
The errant thought shocked him, but it burrowed in under his skin just the same.
Victoria’s hand trembled as she covered her lips, and she leaned back against the sun-warmed brickwork of the house. ‘Of course I remember, Uncle Tom had just told me my mother was dead.’
The bleakness that shadowed her eyes stirred Keir’s compassion and he moved closer, massaging her shoulder with an unsteady hand. ‘You’ll never know how much I’ve regretted not having the chance to comfort you, or to personally give you my contact details.’
Only later, when you never contacted me, I knew I’d taken advantage of your youth and naivety. You were far better off without me messing up your life.
‘You wanted to stay in touch?’ she asked, jerking upright.
He massaged the ache in his chest. Her incredulity hit him where it hurt.
‘I’m not irresponsible, so yes it occurred to me that you may need me, so I left you a letter outlining how you could contact me, should the need arise.’
Victoria stared at him then tottered to a deckchair and sat down, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms. ‘You thought I may become pregnant?’
‘It was entirely possible,’ he conceded grimly. ‘There were times when we were both a little lax with birth control.’
‘I never, ever received a letter from you, Keir,’ she whispered, shaking her head, her appalled expression too genuine to doubt. ‘I asked Uncle Tom—’
‘Tom Scanlan knew damn well who I was, then and now.’
Victoria stared at him and opened and shut her mouth without a single word emerging.
‘Why do you think your uncle allowed me to escort you anywhere? Did you ever pause to consider that?’
‘But I did ask him.’ She finally managed to find her voice. ‘And he told me he didn’t know who you were or where he could contact you.’
‘That’s a goddamned lie.’
‘If it’s a lie, it’s not mine.’ She came out of the chair, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. ‘After Connor was born, I begged Dad to try and find you.’
‘And yet he lied to you, didn’t he?’
She flushed and he knew he’d hit paydirt.
Keir leaned back against the wall of the terrace and fingered the bruise on his jaw.
His anger with Andrew Scanlan escalated. That summer Victoria was eighteen, an adult, yet her father had treated her like a child when he’d refused to allow her to even visit her seriously ill mother. That was something he’d struggled to understand at the time.
And her father still regarded her as incapable of running her own life, if that angry interchange in the hospital cafe was anything to go by. Although he’d not overheard their conversation, it had been obvious Victoria and her father were having a heated argument.
Victoria’s throat worked and she gave Keir a stricken look.
Tough. He was the one who had been wronged here. ‘You’ve denied me five years of my son’s life, years I can never get back.’
‘I denied you?’ Victoria yelled at him and lunged forward, jabbing at his chest with her fist.
‘I.’
Jab.
‘Did.’
Jab.
‘Not.’
He caught her fist and yanked her against him, the movement making her gold eyes flash fire and singe his control. When she struggled he tightened his hold until he could feel the thud of her heartbeat against his chest.
‘Let me go, you Neanderthal.’
The more she struggled, the more her breasts rubbed against him, and the more aroused he became. Fighting for control, he sucked in a sharp breath and caught her womanly scent, heady, familiar and totally intoxicating. His heart rate picked up and his breath quickened as a traitorous desire ran rampant through every cell of his body.
Oh hell!
So much for his vow never to go down this path again.
Her eyes widened, and her hands lifted then fluttered down and gripped his arms. Colour bloomed in her cheeks and the tip of her tongue peeped out to wet her lips. ‘Don’t.’
Her husky whisper ratcheted up the tension a notch. Her lips trembled and with a muttered imprecation he rubbed a finger along her full lower lip. ‘Don’t what?’
Her lips parted, her breathing quickened and those gold eyes opened impossibly wide.
Caught in the sensuous web of his own words, he looked into her eyes, searching for the secrets of her soul. ‘Are you afraid?’
She went still in his arms before she lifted a hand and laid it against his cheek. ‘I’ve never been afraid of you, Keir, then or now.’
He released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
Her body crushed close, her warm womanly musk overlaid with a hint of the light floral fragrance he’d always associated with her overwhelmed his senses. Without conscious thought, he buried his face in the hollow of her neck, drinking in her scent, her closeness.
How long he stood like that, he wasn’t sure, but the sound of a lawnmower made him aware that they were still outside on the terrace in full view
of groundsmen tending the lawns.
With a muttered imprecation Keir scooped Victoria up into his arms and carried her inside into his office.
Once there, he slammed the door and set her on her feet. Her eyes widened as she slid down his painfully aroused body.
‘Tell me. Is this what you want?’ he asked, his voice rough and hoarse as he pulled her close and curved his palm over her cheek. ‘With you, I forget everything I’ve learned about control.’
‘Control is so overrated.’ She lifted a hand and laid it over his larger one.
It was all the permission he needed and Keir took her mouth with savage hunger.
Her response was instantaneous.
When he finally straightened, her breathing was as ragged as his.
She’d called him a Neanderthal and perhaps he was. Why else would the rapid rise and fall of her breast, and the madly beating pulse at the base of her throat thrill him as nothing had for a very long time? All trace of civilised behaviour disappeared as with a low, guttural growl he captured her mouth in a kiss that burned through every vestige of his restraint, the spice of anger still thrumming madly along his veins.
They pulled at each other’s clothes.
In a peripheral part of his mind he heard buttons pop off as she ripped open his shirt and ran her hands over his chest, her nails scraping across his nipples. He sucked in a ragged breath, scooped her up and deposited her on the leather sofa.
She looked up at him and smiled.
The last vestige of his control snapped, and need blocked out all coherent thought as he possessed her with an urgency bordering on desperation.
***
Much later, Victoria stared at the ceiling, her mind adrift, her body satiated. It was too much effort to even lift a finger.
‘Are you trying to kill me?’ Keir murmured, twisting a lock of her flowing hair around his finger.
Until that moment she hadn’t realised that her hair was unbound and covering them both in a silken shroud.
‘I think it’s the other way round.’ It was a struggle to form words and Victoria breathed a deep, shivering breath filled with pine and warm male musk. The scent of sex was heavy on the air. She had never felt so right, so loved, or so contented.
But eventually the lassitude faded to be replaced by rational thought. How had they gone from screaming at one another one moment to tearing at each other’s clothes and having mind-blowing sex the next?
