"What the hell have you been telling this child about me?" Morgan glowered at his mother.
Ida Mae cleared her throat. "Your mother's pretty well convinced her that you're some sort of white knight."
Squeezing his arm again, Anne Marie frowned, crinkling her nose in the exact same way Bethany used to do whenever she became upset. "Mama didn't kill Jimmy Farraday, but the police don't believe her. We've got to have some help finding the real killer. And now that one of Jimmy's fans sent that bomb to Mama—"
Morgan grabbed Anne Marie's wrist. "Someone sent Beth a bomb? What happened? Is she all right?"
"She's fine," Anne Marie said. "Mama didn't open the package. Lisa did, and it blew up. She's in the hospital in critical condition."
"Who is—" Morgan asked.
"Lisa Songer is the manager of one of Bethany's boutiques," Claudia said. "The package was delivered to the Galleria boutique, and Lisa took it over to Bethany's house. It was addressed to her, not the shop."
"Who would want to harm Bethany?" Morgan's heartbeat roared in his ears. Why should he care? Why did the very thought of someone harming Bethany hit him so hard? She didn't mean anything to him. Not after all this time.
Suddenly realizing that he was still manacling Anne Marie's wrist, Morgan released her.
"I told you, we think it was one of Jimmy's fans," Anne Marie said. "They've been calling the house and sending letters, making threats ever since the police arrested Mama four days ago."
"It might have been one of Farraday's outraged lunatic fans," Morgan said. "But I think y'all have overlooked another possibility?"
"And what is that?" Claudia asked.
"Whoever killed Farraday might want Bethany dead and the case closed so that there's no further investigation into the murder."
"See," Anne Marie cried. "You're already figuring the different angles, considering all the possibilities. You know all kinds of ways to track down a criminal." She breathed in deeply, then exhaled. "I wouldn't trust anyone else to take care of my mother. To make sure no one hurts her. She's the most wonderful mother in the world. You remember what a special person she is, don't you?"
Just the mention of Bethany's name stirred up deep emotions inside him. Feelings he thought long dead. Beth—his Beth—had been special. He just hadn't had sense enough to realize how special until it was too late. "Yeah, I remember."
"Then you will take the assignment, won't you, Morgan?" Anne Marie smiled weakly, a look of pleading in her eyes.
"You can't go away and let Bethany fight this battle alone," his mother said.
Claudia's words hit a nerve. He'd left Bethany once, left her to fight against the will of his parents and her mother. She'd lost that fight and married Amery. A part of him did and always would feel guilty that his desertion had left her defenseless. Had she turned to Amery not only because his parents and Eileen Dow had encouraged the relationship, but because she'd known how much he hated his cousin? Had marrying Amery been an act of revenge against him?
Did he owe it to Bethany to stay in Birmingham and guard her? Maybe. Was he a fool to even consider taking the assignment? Probably.
Claudia patted Anne Marie's hand. "Would you mind running up to my room and bringing me my address book and the cards beside it? They're on my writing desk. I owe so many thank-you notes for the flowers people keep sending. It's such a lovely day, I think I may stay out here for a while after lunch."
"Of course, Nana." Standing, Anne Marie leaned over and caressed Claudia's shoulder. "I think I'll go through the kitchen and check out what Ida Mae fixed for dessert."
The minute Anne Marie and Ida Mae disappeared inside the house, Claudia turned to her son. "Bethany and Amery did not have a good marriage. She didn't love—"
"I don't want to hear about Bethany and Amery's marriage!" Morgan knocked over his chair in his haste to stand. Tossing down his linen napkin, he glared at his mother.
"No, don't leave. Don't run away. Not now. You left Bethany once when she… Please. Bethany needs you, and I believe you need her."
"I don't need anyone. Get that through your head right now."
"You always were so headstrong and rebellious, but you didn't used to be quite so cold and unfeeling. What sort of life have you led that has turned you into a heartless machine?"
"You don't want to know."
"Perhaps not." Claudia ran her fingertips over the glass top of the wicker table. "We made a mistake, your father, Eileen and I, pushing Bethany into a marriage with Amery. They were both miserable. I've felt guilty for such a long time. And ever since you told me the other day that sixteen years ago you'd actually come home, come back for Bethany… If only we'd known… Things could have been so different."
"All of this is past history." Morgan reached down, grasped the back of his wicker chair and set it upright. "What does any of this have to do with my taking the job as Bethany's bodyguard?"
"Bethany is very dear to me. Over the years she has become a daughter to me," Claudia said. "And Anne Marie… I love that child as much as I ever loved you."
"All right, we've established what Bethany and her daughter mean to you, but that still doesn't—"
"In all the years you've been away, the only thing I ever asked of you was to come home to your father's funeral, but the Navy couldn't reach you in time. You were God knows where, doing God knows what.
"Well, I'm asking something of you again. Just this once. Do this one thing for me and I'll never ask anything of you again, Stay here in Birmingham. Protect Bethany. And find a way to prove her innocence."
"I can't!" Turning his back to Claudia, he gazed out at the vibrant, verdant, manicured garden surrounding the gazebo, then let his vision focus on the wide sweep of the city below them.
"You lost her once, and that was partly my fault and partly your own fault." Claudia eased back her chair, stood and walked around the table. She laid her hand on Morgan's rigid shoulder. "Don't you see? This could be a second chance for you and Bethany. Aren't you the least bit curious to find out if—"
"Don't do this!" Stepping hurriedly away from his mother, Morgan leaned forward, grasped the top of the banister railing and clenched his teeth tightly. Was he curious about Bethany? About what kind of woman she had become? About whether or not that same sizzling chemistry existed between them?
Hell, yes, he was curious. And scared. He hadn't wanted or needed anyone in a long, long time. And he liked it that way. People came and went in his life. But there had been no one and nothing permanent. Not caring about someone made life easier. If you didn't care, then no one could hurt you. If nothing and no one mattered, then no one could disappoint you, no one could let you down.
He did his job at Dundee's with the same controlled, unemotional professionalism that had seen him safely through over a dozen years as a SEAL. Could he become Bethany's personal bodyguard and remain uninvolved? It wasn't that he still loved her. Hell, he wasn't sure he'd ever loved her or anyone else for that matter. He hadn't been taught how to love, only to succeed. And he had succeeded. Not by following family tradition and becoming a lawyer, but by becoming one of America's elite warriors.
But he had cared deeply for Bethany. More than he'd ever cared about anyone else. She'd been a sweet innocent, whose passionate nature had surprised and delighted him. He'd never been able to forget her, no matter how hard he'd tried, and God knows he'd tried.
"I'll consider taking the job," Morgan said, damning himself to hell with his own words. "But only if Bethany wants me."
* * *
Turning down the volume on the radio, Bethany quieted the soft, soothing sound of Yanni at the piano. She glanced at the digital clock on the control panel in her Mercedes. It was already after noon. Her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since dinner last night. But in the hours she'd stayed at the hospital while Lisa hovered between life and death, food had been the last thing on her mind. Her major concern was whether or not Lisa would live, but the nagging t
hought that wouldn't leave her mind was that she, and not Lisa, had been the intended victim.
Keeping her gaze focused on the road ahead, Bethany scrambled in her purse, grasped her cellular phone and punched her mother's number. When one of the new maids, whose name Bethany couldn't even remember, answered, Bethany identified herself and asked to speak to Eileen.
"Darling, are you still at the hospital?" Eileen asked.
"No, Mother, I'm on my way to your house right now."
"How is poor little Lisa? She didn't die, did she?"
"No, Lisa is still alive. The doctors think she's going to make it. They performed microsurgery on her right hand for vascular reattachment, but there's still a chance she could lose the hand."
"Who would do such a horrible thing? Perhaps the person who killed my Jimmy." Eileen's genteel Southern voice rose slightly in anger, then she immediately lowered it again. "What do you think?"
"I don't know. I'll leave the detective work to the police." Bethany had missed too much sleep, left too many meals uneaten and undergone too many shocks in the past few days to be able to think rationally. She was tired. So very tired. All she wanted was to pick up Anne Marie, go home, take a bath and sleep for at least twelve hours. "Let me speak to Anne Marie for a minute, please."
"I can't let you speak to her."
"Why not? Is something wrong? Is Anne—"
"She's not here, darling," Eileen said. "Claudia called and invited her over for lunch."
"And you let her go?"
"Well, yes, of course. She wanted to go, and I saw no reason not to—
"Dammit, Mother!" Tightening her hold on the phone, Bethany groaned. "How could you have let Anne Marie go over to Claudia's alone when there's some lunatic out there trying to kill me? Did you ever stop to think that she, too, might be in danger?"
"You should know I wouldn't send her over there alone. James drove her over and made sure she got in safe and sound," Eileen said. "My goodness, you act as if whoever sent you that bomb might try to hurt Anne Marie."
"We never know, do we? Jimmy seemed to draw a lot of fans from the fringe element in society."
"I'm sorry, Bethy. Really I am. It's just that Claudia and Anne Marie thought they could persuade Morgan to accept the assignment as your bodyguard. After all, he's highly trained. He was some sort of commando for years before he joined that—"
"My God, Mother, will you stop babbling! Have you and Claudia forgotten just who Morgan Kane is?"
"How dare you speak to me in such a way?" Eileen sighed dramatically. "Everything I did, I did because I thought it was best for you. It wasn't my fault that Morgan deserted you just when you needed him most. Claudia and Henderson and I did our best to take care of the mess that ungrateful boy left behind."
Willing herself not to scream at her mother again, Bethany said calmly, "I'm sorry, Mother. You're right. I'll call later and check on you."
"Are you going over to Claudia's?"
"Yes. I'm going to get my daughter and take her home."
"Perhaps—"
"Goodbye, Mother."
Bethany ended the conversation abruptly, knowing that there was no point in discussing the situation with her airheaded mother. Eileen might be beautiful and rich and charming, but she had little sense of reality. She looked at life through rose-colored glasses. Always had. Probably always would. Even Jimmy's murder hadn't changed that aspect of her mother's personality. Bethany thanked God every day that she had inherited a modicum of common sense from her father.
She had no memory of her father, who had died in a plane crash when she was six months old. Anne Marie had no memory of Amery, who had died in a car crash when she was three. Over the years, when Anne Marie had questioned her about Amery, she had answered her questions as succinctly as possible. She had never referred to him as "your father," only as Amery.
Once Anne Marie had asked, "Did you love my father?"
And she had told her yes, that she had loved her father. And she had. Bethany had loved Morgan Kane with every fiber of her being. He had been as important to her as the air she breathed.
She supposed she should have objected when Claudia began telling Anne Marie her Morgan stories. But somehow it had seemed right, giving Anne Marie a white knight hero to admire when there was no way Bethany could have given her child an idealized account of Amery as a father.
Now only two people on earth, besides her, knew that Amery Wyndham hadn't been Anne Marie's biological father. Eileen and Claudia. Henderson, Morgan's father, had known. And of course, Amery. Her husband, who had promised to cherish her, care for her and protect her. Her husband, who had married her to gain favor with his aunt and uncle. To ensure himself a partnership in his uncle's law firm. And to become the father of Claudia and Henderson's sole heir—their granddaughter Anne Marie.
But in the end, Amery had grown to hate Bethany and resent Morgan's child. The night she'd asked Amery for a divorce, he'd left the house drunk and angry. His car had skidded off a treacherous stretch of highway along Altamont Road
and crashed into a tree, killing him instantly. Eaten alive with guilt, she had mourned Amery's death, and sworn that after two ill-fated relationships, she'd never love nor marry again.
She had been both mother and father to Anne Marie for the past twelve years, dedicating herself to the child she loved more than life itself. But what if she was convicted of Jimmy's murder and sent to prison? There would be no one to take care of Anne Marie. No one to stand by her, to love her, to protect her.
She had thought that Anne Marie and Morgan would never meet. But at this very moment they probably were eating lunch together at Claudia's. What did Anne Marie think of him, Nana's son, whom she already considered a white knight? And what did Morgan think of her, the girl he thought was Amery's daughter? Would he notice her striking resemblance to himself? Or would he pass it off as simply an inheritance from the Morgan side of the family? Would he look into their daughter's blue-gray eyes, identical to his own, and know on some instinctive level that Anne Marie was his?
She had never thought the day would come when she would consider the possibility of telling Morgan about the child he had fathered. But if she were convicted of murder and sent away from Anne Marie…
* * *
Bethany asked Ida Mae not to announce her, and the Kanes' housekeeper smiled sadly and nodded agreement. Did the old woman know or only suspect the truth?
Following the winding brick pathway, Bethany soon found herself in sight of the gazebo. Slowing her gait as she drew nearer, she stared straight ahead and saw the three people inside the summerhouse. Claudia. Anne Marie. And Morgan. For one brief moment her heart stopped. She'd thought she would never see him again. And she had convinced herself that she didn't care, that she no longer felt anything for him.
She hadn't realized seeing him again would be this hard. Sixteen years. A lifetime ago. She wasn't the same naive, lovesick girl. And he wasn't the same rebellious hell-raiser. They were two different people now. Strangers.
Strangers who just happened to share a child.
She could do this, she told herself. She could. She was a strong woman, wasn't she? She had survived a marriage to a man she didn't love. She had raised Anne Marie without a father. She had built a thriving business. And she had managed to keep her sanity after she'd been arrested for Jimmy Farraday's murder and spent a torturous weekend in the Jefferson County jail.
Meeting Morgan Kane again should be easy, shouldn't it? Squaring her shoulders, tilting her chin and taking a deep breath, Bethany walked toward the gazebo. When she was close enough to hear her daughter's laughter, she halted.
The man who looked at and listened to Anne Marie suddenly turned his head and stared at Bethany. She would have recognized him anywhere, despite the changes in his appearance. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been a twenty-two-year-old boy. Handsome to the point of being beautiful. Tall, lean and muscular. Now he was a thirty-eight-year-old man. Still handsome, but th
e edge of youthful beauty had been replaced with pure, gloriously rugged masculinity.
He glared at her with cold, intense blue-gray eyes. Eyes that had once, long ago, softened and warmed when he'd made love to her.
When Morgan shoved back his chair and stood, Claudia glanced toward the pathway where Bethany waited.
"Bethany, dear, please come join us," Claudia said. "We're finishing our dessert, but I'll have Ida Mae bring you a plate."
Anne Marie swirled around in her chair. "Mama! Guess what?" She shot up out of the chair, flew out of the gazebo and ran up the walkway. "Morgan has agreed to take the job. He's going to be your bodyguard. And he's going to find out who really murdered Jimmy."
Bethany opened her arms to her daughter, who hugged her fiercely. Glancing around Anne Marie's shoulder, she stared at Morgan. Their gazes met for an instant, then Bethany inspected him thoroughly. He was bigger, broader than he'd been, his body honed to perfection. His muscular frame appeared confined by the tailored brown slacks and pale yellow cotton pullover he wore.
When he stepped down and out of the summerhouse, his dark blond hair shimmered with natural gold and bronze highlights. He walked toward her, strutting almost, his bearing military trained
"Hello, Bethany." He held out his hand.
She gazed down at that big hand, then hesitantly accepted it for a brief, cordial shake. Once he touched her, her stomach tightened painfully. He held her hand securely within his. She jerked her hand away and stared up at him. Even with her heels on, she was still a good seven inches shorter than he was at six three.
"Hello, Morgan."
Anne Marie stared adoringly up at Morgan, then slipped her arm around her mother's waist. "Isn't it wonderful? Everything is going to be all right now that Morgan is here. He'll take care of everything. I knew the minute Nana said he'd finally come home, that it was meant to be. He came back just when we needed him." Anne Marie reached out, grabbed Morgan's arm and pulled him toward her. "Well, how does it feel seeing each other again after sixteen years?"
Morgan's jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed as he glanced around Anne Marie and glared at Bethany. She stared back at him, silently screaming for him not to look at her that way. With such cold, unemotional scrutiny.
A MAN LIKE MORGAN KANE Page 4
