"I'm no expert, but I'll admit I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask you."
He hesitated; then after a moment he nodded. "All right. Go ahead and ask me."
"When you left Tennessee, did you know Misty was pregnant?"
Kitty's father didn't shake his head, but he didn't nod, either. He just watched her for a moment with shrewd, green eyes.
"Yes," he finally acknowledged, his voice quiet. "And no."
She just raised her eyebrows and waited.
"Of course it was always a possibility," he said, "so we both thought about it that way, I suppose, but I didn't think it was likely. I was a randy young stud in my day, but usually I had enough sense to take precautions. 'Randy' and 'usually; though, have gotten better men than me into messes like this, so I knew there was a chance. But I'd already made up my mind to leave town, and strangely enough, having your mother tell me she was pregnant was the thing that convinced me she couldn't possibly be." He paused. "That probably sounds like a load of bullshit to you, doesn't it?"
"Actually"—Kitty smiled wryly—"less than you might think." She searched his gaze. "She'd been trying to get you to stay, hadn't she?"
He frowned. "Mostly, she'd been trying to get me to take her with me. If she could use me to get out of Tennessee, she meant to do it. How did you know? Did she tell you?"
"Of course not. That would be admitting she failed. But I know Misty. I've known her all my life, in fact, and that's just what I'd expect she'd do."
"I thought she was lying to get me to take her with me when I left town," Martin admitted, looking even wearier than he had when Kitty had entered the room. "I assumed that if I gave in, she'd wait until we were too far from her family for me to just kick her out of a motel room and then she'd 'discover' that it was a false alarm. Or maybe she'd suddenly have a 'miscarriage.' So I ignored her, and I left."
Kitty nodded. "That sounds about right." She really could sympathize with Martin's belief that Misty would have done anything to get her way, no matter how dishonest or immoral it might have been. Not that Misty was a bad person. She was just an incredibly selfish one. She always had been, and Kitty had long ago resigned herself to the knowledge that her mother always would be.
Her other question came out before she'd even gotten a chance to think about it, which might have been for the best.
"If you knew about me from the time I was a year old, why didn't you ever contact me? Why did you let me grow up thinking I didn't have a father, and thinking the one I'd lost was somebody else?"
Martin closed his eyes and seemed to sink back into the bedding behind him. "Because I was an idiot. That's the only thing I can tell you, and I wish it weren't such a poor excuse, but there it is."
Kitty stared at him for a moment, her breath caught in her throat, her heart seemingly stalled in her chest. "That's it?" she finally said, her voice quiet against the drone of the monitors. "That's all you have to say about it?"
"I had answers rehearsed, too, you know," he answered, opening his eyes to glare at her. "I was going to tell you I thought I was doing what was best, that I thought I was protecting you. And I suppose that's what I told myself back then. I told myself over and over that because there was no guarantee that you'd ever shift, you were better off with your mother. I told myself you'd always be at risk here just because you'd be smaller and weaker than any of the other children. I told myself that I was protecting you, but the truth is I was a damned fool." He shifted his gaze to his blankets, as if he couldn't bear to continue meeting Kitty's. "I'd come west by then, and I'd decided to settle in this area. I'd already issued the challenge to my ex-wife's father, and I knew Drusilla wouldn't welcome the idea of raising another woman's daughter. It was just easier to tell myself you were better off where you were."
Kitty sat in the heavy silence and waited for the wave of anger and hurt to come rushing back, but it never did. She could hear the guilt and self-disgust echoing in her father's voice, and all she really felt was a kind of pity. He'd robbed himself of more than he'd ever taken from her, she realized. She'd grown up in a loving home, while he'd given up his own child for the sake of a relationship that still hadn't survived. Which of them had really ended up worse off?
"I was a coward," Martin blurted out, sounding as if the silence had dragged the words from his lips. "Not claiming you from the beginning is the only thing in my life that I truly regret. If I could go back and change it, I swear to you I would."
Kitty felt her mouth begin to curve and felt a weight begin to lift from her shoulders. She shook her head. "It's okay. Really. It's fine."
Martin shook his head. "Why aren't you cursing me out right now?" he demanded.
She grinned. "I did that a few minutes ago. And last night and this morning. Not to mention two weeks ago in Tennessee. Don't tell me you didn't hear me? I got noise complaints from vacationers on Lake Michigan." Her father snorted at her teasing, and Kitty grew more serious. "Honestly, I don't know why I'm not slapping your face right now. I came to town fully prepared to do it. I'm sure the beginning of our conversation made that clear."
Martin's wonder morphed into a scowl. "It's because you feel sorry for me, isn't it? You just don't want to upset the invalid."
She pretended to think about that. "No, actually, I don't think I'm all that worried about upsetting you. If I thought you deserved it, I think I'd be fully willing to kick your behind, even if you are sick. I think I might prefer it that way. It'd be easier, at least. As much as I prefer a fair fight in most cases, weak as a pup is probably the only way I could ever put you down. Besides," she teased, "I plan to use you like a Kleenex while I'm here. I've got a lot to learn about being a Leo. I figured your penance could be to teach me."
He snorted again, and Kitty sobered, shaking her head. "I don't know if it's because of that lack of sleep I mentioned and I'm too tired to get back on the road or if maybe I just had some great spiritual awakening. Or maybe I'm just squeamish about blood. Whatever. The bottom line is that when I listen to your side of the story, all I can think about is that if I'd been in your position, I may have done the same blessed thing." She shrugged. "It gets kind of hard to hate you when I think about it that way."
The silence returned, deeper and stiller than before. Martin was the one to break it.
"I don't know what to say to that," he told her, his voice gruff with emotion. "That's not what I expected. I was prepared for you to yell and scream and curse my name, or to cry about how poorly I treated you. I think I could even have handled a cold shoulder and a 'stay the hell out of my life, you bastard!' I'd have deserved that. But this?" He shook his head. "I don't know what to do with this."
Kitty laughed out loud, a release of tension as much as humor. "Believe me, I know how you feel. But don't worry. We've only known each other for fifteen minutes, and I've only asked you two questions. The screaming and cursing might happen yet, if I don't like your answer to the next one."
Tentatively, an approach to life she sensed sat awkwardly with this man, Martin reached out and laid his hand over hers. "I think I'll look forward to that. Kitty."
His gaze locked with hers, her father's gaze, looking out at her from eyes as familiar as her own, and Kitty felt some indefinable thing click into place inside her. Slowly, she smiled back.
* * *
Chapter Twelve
MAX SWORE UNDER HIS BREATH AS HE KNOCKED ON the door to Martin's suite. The last thing Max wanted to do was interrupt the father-daughter reunion taking place inside, but there was no way he was about to let the Felix's family sneak up and ambush Kitty. Not when their fangs had seen so much more use than hers.
He pushed the door open at Martin's, "Come in," and found the Felix reclining against his pillows and his daughter sitting calmly by his side. Max had heard raised voices at one point, but it looked like the two of them must have come to some kind of an understanding of the sort that didn't involve mutual hatred. He took that as a very good sign.
&nb
sp; Martin looked up.
"You've got visitors," Max reported. "They're just pulling up the drive."
The Felix glowered. "I'll bet they are, the interfering vultures. They probably thought they'd get here before Kitty and scare her off before I got a chance to meet her."
Kitty frowned at her father's expression and looked over at Max. She rose and wiped her hands on her jeans.
"Maybe it would be better if I just slipped out the back before they get here. A big scene isn't going to help anything, and I can come back another time."
"You're not going anywhere," Martin barked. "You're a member of my family and you're here at my invitation. I might be tied to this damned bed, but I'm still the head of this family and the Felix of this pride. I'd like to see anyone try to fight me over who I can and can't invite into my own home."
"You just might get your wish," Max said grimly. He caught a glimpse of both determination and anxiety in Kitty's face and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," he murmured, smiling encouragingly. "A few ugly things might be said, but no one is going to get the chance to lay a hand on you. Not with Martin and me in the room. It will be fine."
Kitty looked less than reassured. "Great," she muttered. "Let's just hope I don't need to go pee then."
Martin laughed hoarsely and threw her a wink. "I'll let you borrow my bedpan. That way we can still keep an eye on you."
"You're all heart, Mr. Lowe."
"Dad." He scowled.
"Mr. Lowe," she repeated, gently but firmly.
"Father, then."
"Mr. Lowe."
"Damn it, girl, you can't call me Mr. Lowe like I'm some fool off the street coming to check out a book! At least call me Martin, if you're determined to be stubborn."
Kitty opened her mouth to reply, but Max interrupted with a squeeze of his hand.
"Your father is right," Max said. "You can't call him Mr. Lowe, at least not in front of the family. It would be seen as a sign of the distance between you, and it would imply that you're not comfortable here. They'd take that as a sign of weakness."
She looked up at Max, a frown in her eyes. "I don't see how it's anyone else's business—"
"Kitty—"
She held up a hand. "But if you both think it's important, I can go with 'Martin.' I'm not trying to be stubborn, but I wouldn't be comfortable calling anyone 'Dad' who I'd only known for forty-five minutes."
Max saw the disappointment Martin tried to conceal. He didn't want to interfere in their relationship, and he doubted either one would appreciate the effort if he tried, but that didn't do anything to stifle the urge. The real reason he couldn't step in was because for the first time in his adult life he couldn't decide whose side he was on. Martin had earned Max's loyalty and held it for so long that supporting him felt like a reflex, but Max couldn't bring himself to side against Kitty. Not when the thing growing between them was so powerful.
In the end, Kitty made his decision unnecessary.
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, M-Martin," she said, correcting herself deliberately, "and I'm not saying or even implying that I'm unwilling to try to form some kind of relationship here. I came two thousand miles to meet you, and I'd like to get to know you while I'm here. I really would. But I can only move myself along so fast." Max saw her reach out and squeeze her father's hand. "Remember, I grew up where calling an older man 'Mr.' isn't rude; it's a sign of respect. It's a compliment that you'd like me to call you by your given name. I'll try not to let it make me overly familiar."
Her smile and teasing wink earned a smile in answer. "You watch that sass and I'm sure it'll be just fine," Martin said, his voice rough with pleasure. Max felt something inside him warm at the sight. He'd known these two would hit it off, but seeing it happen was a rare pleasure he wouldn't soon forget. Then Kitty looked up and their eyes met and the warmth turned quickly to heat.
"Good morning, Martin. I do hope we aren't intruding. Won't you introduce your guest?"
Drusilla's cold tone made it clear she didn't give a damn whether she was intruding or not, and Max bit back a curse as he turned toward the door. "Drusilla. Did we miss your call letting us know you'd be coming by?" he asked.
"Oh, Nadalie and I just thought we'd stop in on our way to the spa and make sure Martin was comfortable. We're going to have a little day of beauty."
Max took in the sour expression on the face of Drusilla's daughter, as well as the sulking figure standing behind her. "I see. And is Peter having a facial, or a cleansing seaweed body wrap?"
The young man shot Max a dirty look but didn't take the bait. He just leaned against the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets and waited, like always, for someone else to do the work for him.
His mother also chose to ignore the comment. She was too busy staring at Kitty with malice-filled yellow eyes. "Well? Who is your guest, Martin? Or did she come here with you, Max? I thought you were still seeing that circus performer."
Somehow, Max had never thought to describe Selene Latourne, a featured acrobat with Cirque du Soleil, as a "circus performer." But then, he hadn't thought of her at all since Kitty had come to town.
"No, actually Selene recently became engaged to her choreographer," Max said, keeping a short rein on his temper. "But if I see her, I'll mention you asked after her. I'm sure she'll be touched." Stepping closer to Kitty, he laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "As a matter of fact, I did bring Kitty with me this morning, but she's Martin's guest. He's been looking forward to her visit for quite some time."
"Kitty?" Nadalie choked, her voice dripping with contempt. Her gaze was fixed on Max's hand where it touched Kitty. "Her name is Kitty? That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard! Does she think she's making fun of us?"
He felt the tension in Kitty's small frame and tightened his grip. She snuck him a sideways glance through narrowed eyes, but at his glare she pinched her lips together and kept silent. He didn't need her to speak to know she reserved the right to change that decision at any time.
"Kitty, allow me to introduce Martin's family to you, since they've presented themselves so unexpectedly. This is Nadalie and Peter Lowe, Martin's children, and their mother, Drusilla Van Diemen." He gestured to each of them in turn. "Peter, ladies, this is Kitty Sugarman, Martin's daughter."
IF LOOKS COULD KILL, KITTY HOPED HER GRANDFATHER would find a good use for her life insurance policy. The expressions on the faces of Martin's ex-wife and children clearly showed how much each of them would like to see her drawn and quartered, with the pieces displayed on stakes around the property to warn off other unwelcome interlopers. In fact, if she hadn't known better, she would have sworn that the one Max had introduced as Nadalie was already contemplating having hair extensions made for herself after she cut off her half sister's scalp. But judging from the way the girl was simultaneously glaring at her and eating Max up with her eyes, Kitty thought there might be more than one reason for that.
Since the phrase "I'm pleased to meet you all" would have stuck in her craw like undercooked grits, Kitty settled for nodding to the group and murmuring, "How do you do?"
Drusilla didn't even bother to acknowledge Kitty again.
"So you've finally gone and done it, Martin," the older woman spit, glaring daggers at her ex-husband. "It didn't matter to you at all how your family felt about it? You just had to take the word of the first gold digger to show up on your doorstep claiming to be your long-lost bastard! How dare you?"
Kitty blinked and took another look around her. That line sounded like something out of a really bad daytime melodrama, and now that she thought about it, the other people in the room—with the exception of her ill father—were all much too good-looking for real life. Maybe she'd accidentally wandered onto the set of some strange Nevada soap opera.
Max, she already knew, was gorgeous, but she was beginning to think that all the members of the pride must be, based on the evidence standing in front of her and currently radiating hostility like a demon
ic tanning bed.
The relatives—as she'd begun thinking of them—were uniformly beautiful, even the guy. She had a hard time seeing the handsome man Martin must have been before he'd gotten so sick, but even if he'd been ugly as sin, Drusilla looked more than genetically capable of making up for it.
Tall, sleek, and built like a showgirl—with the long, golden hair to match—the woman had legs a mile long and obviously considered them an asset worth showing off, if the length of her skirt gave any indication. The short, pleated garment looked like wool, but wool so fine Kitty could almost imagine it feeling like cotton. It had been paired with a knit silk tank top in a rich golden cream color with a square neckline that perfectly framed the heavy gold-link necklace around Drusilla's throat.
Kitty felt a vindictive sense of satisfaction in observing that no matter how much the older woman might work out and no matter how much Botox or cosmetics she used on her face, her neck betrayed her true age. Though it was still slender, the golden skin had begun to wrinkle and crepe in a way that not even the best plastic surgeon could fully correct.
"I already divorced you because I couldn't stand to listen to you whine, woman," Martin growled, his pale face flushing with anger. "What I do now is none of your damned business. If you're too contrary or too stupid to realize that a blind man would recognize that Kitty's my daughter, that's your own problem, but don't you dare come into my house and presume to criticize me."
"And what about me?" Nadalie snapped, almost shaking with anger. "Have you forgotten that you already have a daughter? Or do you think you can replace family members like broken slot machines?"
Surprised by the girl's vehemence, not to mention her volume, Kitty looked over at Nadalie. Her glare, like her mother's, was poisonous and aimed directly at Kitty, who could have sworn Nadalie was trying to shove her away from Max with sheer force of will.
Mother and daughter looked to have more in common than their mutual hatred of the intruder, but Kitty thought she might be able to see some of Martin in the girl as well. She had her mother's figure and fashion sense, judging by her short, elegant sundress and obviously expensive jewelry, but her face was less classically oval and more heart shaped. More like Kitty's, as much as she hated to admit it. Nadalie's blond hair was a shade darker than her mother's and her eyes had a touch of green, but they stared at Kitty with equal loathing.
Walk on the Wild Side Page 11
