by Shirley Wine
It was sex, pure and simple.
She needed to keep things in perspective. Keir needed her to restore his credibility and appease the board of Donovans. This was the same man who only a few days ago was prepared to enter a loveless alliance because he wanted an heir and an accomplished hostess. Now, he expected Victoria to marry him to scotch a scandal, and because she was conveniently the mother of his child.
She was not Davina.
It was more than time that Keir accepted this.
Victoria would not be pushed into a marriage with Keir because it was expedient, or because of Connor. She deserved better and so did their child. Mind-blowing sex may be great, but it was not enough. Unless Keir opened up and shared his past and his emotions with her, there would be no marriage.
‘What’s wrong?’ He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, brows drawn together in a frown.
‘Nothing,’ she said, suddenly flustered.
She dragged her gaze away from his, only to settle on his hair which her fingers had left dishevelled, past the strong jaw shadowed with dark stubble, to catch sight of his gorgeously naked rump and long, sinewy thighs.
God, he was impressive.
And lying back against butter-soft black leather of the couch, he looked for all the world like some well satisfied pasha.
‘Like what you see?’
His drawled words had heat writhing inside her.
Like?
Keir was every fantasy she’d ever entertained rolled into one delightfully sexy package. She’d trailed kisses down that muscular chest and belly, and kissed the deep dimples just above the sexy butt that she’d first admired that long-ago summer as she’d blossomed into womanhood.
She sat up and scooped her long tresses back over one shoulder, frantically trying to find some graceful way of extricating herself from this situation.
‘Did I hurt you?’ Keir sat up and swung his long legs down to the floor, completely at ease with his nakedness.
‘No,’ she muttered, looking everywhere but at him.
‘You’re not about to cry rape?’
This was so startling, she looked up directly into his dark eyes.
Where did this come from?
‘Why would I even suggest such a thing?’ she asked, angry and bewildered.
‘Isn’t that what a woman does after enjoying a bout of wild sex? God forbid that anyone should see her lusty appetite. It’s much easier to pretend she was forced.’
Victoria stared at him in open-mouthed shock. It took her some moments to gather her scattered wits. There were women who stooped to such tactics, but she was not one of them. She scooped up her clothes and dressed hurriedly.
‘Are you confusing me with some other woman again, Keir?’ She pinned him with a frosty glare. ‘Our lovemaking was consensual, as wild as it was.’
‘Victoria?’
She paused, one hand on the doorhandle, but she refused to look at him.
‘Would it help if I apologised?’
She turned and nailed him with a narrow-eyed glare. ‘Would an apology mean you’ve changed your skewed perception of women?’
He remained silent.
‘Then any apology is pointless,’ she said as she walked out.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Victoria lingered in her room. If she waited long enough, surely Keir would have left for work. After a night plagued by erotic dreams and nightmarish images, she was tired and confused, and the thought of facing him gave her the heebie-jeebies.
The memory of tearing at each other’s clothes and the frenzied lovemaking that followed was enough to make her hot and flustered all over again. What had come over her to act like that? She hadn’t known she was capable of such uninhibited behaviour, or that Keir was either. She pressed her palms against hot cheeks.
Are you about to cry rape?
Those words had haunted her all night.
Their lovemaking had certainly been wild and exciting, but by no stretch of the imagination did that ugly word apply.
Who had accused Keir of rape? His ex-wife?
A thrill of apprehension worked its way down her spine. From the odd comment he’d let slip, she wasn’t gaining a very good impression of his ex-wife or his marriage to her.
Why wouldn’t he discuss it with her?
Victoria took an inordinate amount of time showering and dressing until finally hunger drove her downstairs. To her dismay Keir was at the table having breakfast, looking serene and completely at ease.
Dressed in an elegant, well-tailored charcoal suit, pristine white shirt and maroon tie, no-one would guess that beneath his polished veneer was a man capable of such wild passion. Yesterday Keir had shown her a side of his nature she’d never seen before.
He rose and pulled out a chair for her. ‘Good morning. Did you sleep well?’
Are you kidding?
She darted a furtive glance at him and, seeing the twinkle in his eyes, her breath hitched in her throat, her pulse galloped and flustered heat flooded her entire body.
He cupped her hot cheek in his palm. ‘Don’t feel embarrassed.’
‘How can I not,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve never acted like that before in my life.’
‘Me either.’ Keir chuckled, the soft sound curling around her fevered thoughts and calming them. ‘But at a guess I’d say it was probably largely due to the stress and anxiety we’ve endured over Connor.’
‘You think?’
‘Thinking he may never wake up, or if he did he would be brain damaged, has to be any parent’s worst nightmare.’
‘I was so frightened,’ she whispered.
‘Me too.’ He held her face between his palms and looked into her eyes. ‘I hurt you yesterday with that crass comment. Will you forgive me?’
Whatever she’d imagined when they next met, it wasn’t this, but it was long past time that they had an honest conversation and she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity.
She covered one of his hands with hers. ‘Who accused you of rape, Keir, your ex-wife?’
He pulled away and every vestige of animation faded from his expression. He was silent so long Victoria thought he wasn’t going to answer. He sighed, the sound heavy in the loaded silence. ‘Katrina was an expert at laying on guilt.’
‘About sex?’
‘Among other things.’
Another heavy sigh trembled from him, and when he looked at her the devastation she saw in his eyes made tears sting the back of hers.
‘You loved her?’ Despite her best efforts, Victoria heard jealousy and resentment creep into her voice.
Keir’s expression turned thoughtful. ‘Did I?’ he asked at last, shaking his head. ‘At first, maybe. But now, I’m not so sure that I ever did love her. I certainly enjoyed the fast-paced lifestyle I shared with her, but now I’m sure I never really knew Katrina at all.’
‘In New York?’
He gave her a strange look. ‘No, we lived in Seattle.’
‘Logan mentioned you’d recently come home from New York?’
‘I was there for a while after Katrina and I separated.’
He turned away and although Victoria was sure there was one heck of a lot more involved in the break-up of his marriage, she also knew he wasn’t ready to discuss it.
Mrs Teague bustled in with fresh tea and toast.
‘Ready for breakfast?’ Keir asked as the housekeeper left the room. He sat at the table and held the teapot aloft. ‘Tea?’
‘Thanks.’ She watched him surreptitiously as she sipped her tea, aware of his brooding scrutiny. ‘What is it?’
‘Do you want to close Victorian Grace?’
Shocked, she lowered her cup so fast it clashed on the saucer. ‘Close my business? Are you out of your mind?’ Her voice rose in indignation.
‘It’s not open at the moment.’
‘You think I’m not aware of that?’ she asked. ‘Fortunately I have no weddings booked until next month so taking
a few days off for Connor now isn’t crucial. What you’re suggesting is different.’
‘There are other florists.’
‘Tell me something I don’t already know. Do you know how much effort it’s taken to build Victorian Grace to where it is now?’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Can you?’ She gave him a narrow-eyed look. ‘Will this furore make you shut down Donovans?’
‘The situation isn’t at all the same.’
‘Isn’t it? Or is it because you’re a man and therefore your livelihood is so much more important?’
‘It was only a suggestion. Calm down.’
‘I won’t calm down. There’s no way I’m closing my business, Keir. Get used to it.’
‘So how do you propose to run it?’ He pinned her with a cool, penetrating glance. ‘You’re out of your mind if you think you can waltz back into Victorian Grace and continue as you’ve done in the past. Reporters will ambush you.’
Victoria stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words.
Why didn’t I think of this?
‘You’re dealing face-to-face with the public every day,’ he said in that same infuriatingly calm tone, ‘whereas my dealings with the public are screened through several layers of security and staff. Do you have a better solution?’
His logic was maddening, and she buttered her toast with far more force than was necessary. ‘What about the weddings I’ve already booked? I can’t let my clients down, scandal or no scandal.’
‘How do you propose to keep your clients happy and the press at bay?’
‘The weddings that I do the flowers for usually take months of planning, Keir. Suddenly cancelling will ruin so many brides’ perfect day—sorry, but shutting up shop is not an option.’
‘And it’s not ethical to let clients down.’ He nodded thoughtfully and reached for another piece of toast. ‘It will create even more adverse publicity.’
‘There must be some way around this persecution.’ Bitter and frustrated, she crumbled her uneaten toast onto her plate.
‘We’ll just have to sit it out.’
‘No, I can’t just let my business sit around in limbo. I have to meet with my clients and I need to guarantee them privacy,’ Victoria said, lifting her hands and letting them fall. ‘How can I do this when we’re mobbed the moment we go near the front gates? You’ve seen the news footage of reporters staking out my business.’
‘Which brings us back to where we started.’
‘Closing down my business?’ She gave him a fierce glare. ‘That’s not happening, Keir. We’ll have to find some other solution.’
Keir sat silently for a few moments, drumming his fingertips on the table, the sound grating on her overwrought nerves. ‘How would it be if I asked my PA to find a competent, well-qualified woman to manage the business for you?’
Allow someone else to run my precious baby?
Refusal hovered on Victoria’s tongue, but she curbed the instinctive response. After the first hot rush of denial, she pondered his suggestion.
‘Could it work?’
‘It’s feasible. I can organise a secure internet connection if you’re prepared to liaise with a manager and customers using Skype.’
Victoria poked at the idea from all angles. ‘I guess that would work for now, but in the long term I’ll need to meet with clients in person.’
‘This blaze of publicity will eventually die down.’
‘Not soon enough for me.’
‘Look on the bright side, all this hoo-ha is sure to increase business for Victorian Grace.’
‘You think?’ For the first time, Victoria felt a tiny flare of enthusiasm. After all, the desire to expand her business was the reason she’d accepted Logan’s invitation to visit Darkhaven in the first place.
‘Victorian Grace is no longer an anonymous little floral boutique,’ he said with wry amusement. ‘The press is milking every connection of yours they can find, including former customers, and that publicity isn’t all bad.’
Keir was right. To Victoria’s surprise, many of her clients were supportive and refused to dish the dirt on her or her floristry skills. Their comments were quite the opposite, in fact.
‘Unless the notoriety drives customers away.’
Keir laughed and shook his head. ‘Not a chance. Curiosity alone will bring people through your doors. Never underestimate the power of an inquisitive mind.’
‘Human nature being what it is, you’re probably right,’ she conceded. ‘And I have been contemplating employing an assistant so I can have more time to spend with Connor.’
‘You’ll probably find that you’ll move into a consultant role and delegate most of the hands-on work.’
‘How will I go about finding a manager?’
‘I’ll get Chloe, my PA, onto it. She’ll find suitable candidates and check their references and skill levels. Chloe is known for her discretion.’
‘I’d need to meet with any candidates.’
‘For sure. Once Chloe has a short list she’ll arrange for the candidates to come here for an interview. You may like to ask Mrs Teague to help you set up an office for yourself here. It’s either that or closing down your business.’
‘I guess you’re right,’ she sighed softly. ‘And Keir? Thank you.’
His expression softened and he laid a hand against her cheek. ‘Cheer up. This brouhaha will eventually die down.’
After he’d gone, Victoria poured herself a second cup of tea and pondered that conversation.
Set up an office for yourself.
The ring of permanence wasn’t reassuring, nor was Keir’s very offhand proposal.
We should get married and legalise our relationship.
She gave a bitter laugh. It wasn’t exactly the kind of proposal every woman dreams of.
Did they have a relationship? A month-long summer romance, a week of scandal, and sitting by their stricken son’s bedside didn’t constitute a relationship in her book.
And a couple of very passionate interludes, don’t forget.
Victoria fanned her face with a paper serviette as memories of their lovemaking sent a wave of scorching heat from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
My Seth is the kind of lover every woman dreams of.
She snorted, the inelegant sound bringing her sharply down to earth. The elemental zing of attraction was still there, and then some, but the man she’d fallen in love with as an inexperienced girl had changed. Victoria wasn’t prepared to ‘settle’. She deserved more and so did Connor. Did Keir think sharing a child was reason enough for marriage?
Earlier he’d opened up a little, but she knew he still carried a crap-load of baggage.
Katrina was expert at laying on guilt.
As Victoria had discovered to her cost, when she had accidentally triggered an unwelcome memory, Keir’s first instinct was to lash out. Until he opened up, shared his thoughts and got rid of his baggage, marriage was not on her radar.
***
‘I wanna go home,’ Connor whined and rubbed a hand across his eyes.
‘You can’t, sweetie,’ Victoria coaxed softly in an attempt to divert him. ‘At least until the doctor says so, okay?’
‘But my daddy said I could go home soon.’
Soon being the operative word. Victoria rolled her eyes heavenward as she prayed for patience. While it pleased her that Connor had so readily accepted Keir as his dad, Keir had yet to learn that to little boys soon meant immediately, if not sooner.
After Keir’s visit earlier, Connor was unsettled and fractious. He didn’t want her to read to him, and nothing she said or did met with his approval. He whined and grizzled, and he tried his best to get out of bed.
‘My head hurts.’
She plucked a lavender-soaked wipe from the container on the bedside locker and laid it against his forehead. ‘Does this help?’
‘No! Don’t want it!’ He struck at it, catching it and flinging it onto the floor.
>
As she bent to pick it up, Victoria inhaled a shaky breath and strove for calm. His contrariness sapped her energy and ingenuity. Connor was usually easy to manage, but she guessed that Keir’s presence, combined with his accident, had thrown his whole life out of kilter. After all, she was off-balance, so it must be much worse for a five-year-old boy.
‘Would you like me to read to you?’
‘No! I wanna go home. Now.’ Two fat tears overflowed and rolled down his cheeks.
Victoria’s heart constricted, and it took all her resolution not to join in and howl like a baby. Her little boy was hurting and she was fed up with this whole nightmare.
She was drowning.
‘Having problems?’
She looked up and saw Caine through the blur of tears. ‘And some. Connor’s cranky and fed up with everyone and everything.’
Caine gripped her shoulder, his hand warm and supportive. ‘You need a break. Go have a cuppa and take a walk around the gardens, and I’ll sit with him.’
‘Poppa!’ Connor’s grizzles stopped as if someone had pressed a switch.
Little turncoat.
Victoria chuckled, the sound watery in her own ears.
Caine visited Connor every afternoon and she appreciated his unqualified support, his visits as much of a comfort to her as they were to Connor. Not by word or gesture had Keir’s father expressed disapproval of her since he’d learned she was the mother of his grandchild. One day they would discuss it, but now she appreciated his restraint and his winning way with Connor, and her little boy lapped up the attention.
Not so with her own father.
Andrew’s betrayal was still too raw for Victoria to think about let alone discuss.
Lying to her about her mother’s illness was one thing, but lying to her about her baby’s father was something she was not sure she’d ever be able to forgive.
Victoria didn’t trust her self-control. She hadn’t spoken to Andrew since that awful confrontation the day of Connor’s accident. Her father had left messages with the answering service, but Victoria had yet to respond.
As she watched Caine pull a book from his carry bag, then a tiny bag of jelly beans, Victoria suspected Caine probably needed Connor more than the little boy needed him. From the moment the two of them met there had been a rapport between them, and it continued to grow.
