Anne Marie walked beside Morgan. "We could grill steaks. Do you like grilled steaks? I like mine medium rare. How do you like yours?"
Glancing around her daughter, Bethany caught Morgan's eye. She smiled, then shrugged, as if to say, "What can I do with her? She never shuts up, especially when she's nervous. You understand, don't you?" When Morgan returned her smile, the bottom dropped out of Bethany's stomach. Dear God! How was she going to endure living in the same house with this man if every time he smiled at her, she went weak in the knees?
"We'll have dinner out by the pool," Bethany said. "But first, show Morgan upstairs, while I take a bath and make a few phone calls. Find something to occupy yourself for a while, and then after Morgan and I finish with business, I'll turn him back over to you."
"That's a deal!"
Anne Marie led Morgan up the stairs and straight across the narrow hall. A black-and-white toile paper graced the walls of the guest room, and the design was repeated in the draperies. A dark oak cannonball poster bed, covered with a black-and-white checkered spread, dominated the large room. Morgan dropped his suitcase on the hand-painted sisal rug. Taking in the casually elegant splendor of the area, he realized, once again, how much Bethany and his mother had in common, even their good taste and passion for antiques. But where his mother's house had the feel of a museum, Bethany's had the feel of a home.
"The bath's through there." Anne Marie pointed to the open door through which Morgan could see a black laquered vanity. "Now, I'll leave you alone. But when you and Mama finish talking business, let me know, and we can change into our suits and go for a swim before dinner. Mama loves the pool. Maybe a swim will help her relax."
Before he had a chance to reply, Bethany's whirlwind child flew out of the room and down the stairs. He walked over to the double windows and gazed at the backyard, which was enclosed within the boundaries of a tall, wooden fence. A large deck led to a stone patio, that spread out and circled an olympic-size pool. To the left was a flower garden, a condensed replica of his mother's.
What the hell was he doing here? In Birmingham? In Bethany's home? He had allowed too many old feelings to resurface and affect his decision making. He'd been reared from infancy to be unemotional, and he'd trained himself over the past sixteen years to become unfeeling. So why hadn't he been able to walk away and not look back when his mother had pleaded with him to become Bethany's bodyguard?
Don't you see? This could be a second chance for Bethany and you. His mother's words echoed inside his head. Hell, he didn't want a second chance with Bethany. Or did he? He hadn't exactly been eating his heart out for her all these years. There had been other women. Quite a few other women, though most of them were now nothing more than nameless, faceless blurs. But even if he wasn't interested in second chances for a happily ever after life with Bethany, he couldn't deny that he wanted her. Even when she'd been a shy, plump little bookworm, he'd wanted her. Wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone else. And now that she had matured into a ripe, sensuous woman, he wanted her even more.
But he'd be a fool to mix business with pleasure. To become involved in an affair with Bethany while he was working as her bodyguard. Besides, she hadn't given him any indication that she wanted him. Maybe she was involved with her business partner and neither wanted nor needed another lover.
He had agreed to his mother's pleas because he felt that he owed Bethany something for deserting her sixteen years ago and practically throwing her into Amery's waiting arms.
And then there was the child. Not really a child, but a young woman. Why had he allowed Anne Marie's misplaced adoration to affect his decision to stay and take the job? Was it because he had looked at Amery's daughter and known in his heart that she should have been his?
* * *
Morgan and Bethany had little time to discuss the details of Jimmy Farraday's murder case, the mail bomb or instigating a personal investigation. And much to Anne Marie's disappointment, they'd had to cancel their plans to grill steaks by the pool. Lisa Songer's condition worsened and Bethany rushed to the hospital. Anne Marie had insisted on accompanying them, despite Bethany's efforts to persuade her to stay with Claudia.
When Lisa passed the crisis and the doctors assured her family that she would live, Morgan urged a reluctant Bethany to leave the hospital.
"I understand that you feel responsible," he said. "That bomb was meant for you, and if you hadn't asked her to open the package, she wouldn't have been injured."
"Mama, it wasn't your fault," Anne Marie said. "You had no way of knowing that there was a bomb in that package."
"Lisa is only twenty-six. Her whole life is ahead of her." Bethany accepted her daughter's comforting hug. "She came so close to dying. And … she could still lose her hand."
"You can't change what happened," Morgan told her. "All you can do for Lisa is find Jimmy Farraday's murderer."
"How will finding Jimmy's murderer help…" Suddenly Bethany understood what Morgan was implying. "You think whoever killed Jimmy sent me that bomb, don't you?"
"It could have been a crazed fan," he said. "But my money is on the real killer."
"But why would the…" Bethany gasped. "Whoever killed Jimmy knows that I'm innocent, of course. And they probably know that I'm not going to go down without a fight, that I and my family and friends will continue to demand more investigations. And even if I'm convicted, Claudia and Mother and Seth won't give up trying to find proof that I'm innocent."
"With you out of the way, permanently, there's a good chance the case would be closed, and whoever killed Jimmy Farraday would get off scot-free."
After leaving the hospital, they stopped at a fast-food restaurant for hamburgers and fries, then went directly home. The mantel clock in the living room struck eleven times just as Morgan took Bethany's keys and unlocked the front door. As if on cue, Anne Marie yawned.
"You'd better go straight to bed, young lady," Bethany said. "You have school registration tomorrow."
"See y'all in the morning." Anne Marie kissed her mother's cheek, then turned to Morgan and smiled. "I'm so glad you're here to take care of Mama. She takes care of everyone else. Me. Grandmother. Nana. All her employees. Even Seth, when he goes on a bender. But there hasn't been anyone to take care of her. Not until now."
Bethany stood in the foyer, frozen to the spot, not wanting to face Morgan and her own uncertain emotions. She couldn't allow any of those old romantic feelings toward Morgan to get in the way of doing what was best for Anne Marie. If she went to trial and was convicted of murder, she'd tell Morgan that he was Anne Marie's father. But what if she was acquitted? Did she have the right to keep father and daughter apart? Did she dare tell them both the truth and risk losing her daughter's love and respect?
"Hey, Morgan," Anne Marie called to him from the top of the stairs. "Tomorrow evening we'll grill steaks and go for a swim. OK?"
"You have a date," he told her, then when she disappeared around the hallway corner, he turned to Bethany. Putting her hand over her mouth to cover a yawn, she closed her drooping eyelids. "Why don't you go on up, too? You look beat."
"I am beat," she said. "But I thought we needed to talk, to discuss the details of your job and put the wheels of our investigation in motion."
"Everything can wait until tomorrow." He fought the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her upstairs. She looked so fragile standing there in the dim foyer light, her slender shoulders sagging, her eyelids fluttering as she fought her sleepiness. "Go on to bed. I'll check the door and turn your security system back on."
"Aren't you coming up now?"
"Not for a while. I'm a night owl."
"I get up at six every morning, so if you intend to accompany me to work, you might not want to stay up too late."
"I don't need much sleep," he said.
"Oh, I see. Part of your military training, I suppose. Claudia told me that you were a navy SEAL."
"What else did my mother tell you about me?" he asked
.
"Not much. But then Claudia didn't know much about your life after you left Birmingham. You never wrote or called your parents." He'd never written or called her, either. He'd left her behind, not caring enough to ever contact her again. She'd been barely twenty, pregnant and not strong enough to stand up against her mother and the Kanes.
"I thought that they were better off without me, and I knew I was a hell of a lot better off without them." But not without you, Beth. I came back for you. But I came back too late. Morgan took a tentative step toward her.
She backed away from him. "They missed you, you know? They would have welcomed you home with open arms if you'd come home." And I would have, too. I would have forgiven you anything, if you'd come back to me.
"They didn't need me. They had Amery. Apparently he became the son they'd always wanted." Morgan came toward her, backing her up against the wall. "It didn't take Amery long, did it, to step in and take over everything that had been mine?" He lowered his head until his lips almost touched hers. "Did you love him, Beth … the way you said you loved me? Did you shatter into a thousand pieces when he gave you pleasure? Did you—"
She shoved against his rock-hard chest, but he didn't budge. "My marriage to Amery is none of your business. And you have no right to question me about it. You left me and never once looked back." And I died a thousand deaths knowing that you didn't love me, that I was carrying your child and another man would be her father.
"And if I had looked back, what would I have seen?" Flanking her shoulders with his outstretched arms, he laid his palms against the wall on either side of her head. "I'd have seen you, the girl who swore she loved me, married to my cousin."
Bethany laughed, the sound edged with mockery. "You say that as if you would have cared. Don't try to play the injured party. You left me, remember? 'I've got to get away and find a life for myself,' you told me. 'If I stay here, they'll smother me. They'll turn me into someone I don't want to be. It's not that I don't care about you, Beth. I do. It's just that you're a part of their world—'"
"You remember word for word what I said to you the night I left." Lifting his hands off the wall, he pulled away from her and stepped back. "You did love me, didn't you, Beth? Then why did you marry Amery?"
She glared at him, her hazel eyes suddenly wide open and glimmering. "Yes, I loved you." She laughed again, then bit down on her bottom lip as she shook her head. "I loved you with all my foolish young heart. But that was sixteen years ago. We're two different people now. We've lived separate lives. And just because you were my first love and my first lover, doesn't mean you can walk back into my life and think we can pick up where we left off."
"Is that what you think I want to do?" he asked.
"Isn't it?" She moved toward him, bringing her body within inches of his. "Isn't that why you're dredging up the past, why you're pretending that it bothers you that I married Amery? Do you think that if we talk about the good old days when we were young lovers, all that sizzling passion between us will ignite again?"
"I don't know, Beth, what do you think?"
Standing on tiptoe, she draped her arms around his neck and pressed her body intimately against his. Closing her eyes, she clung to him as she covered his lips with hers. His sex hardened instantly. Moaning deep in her throat, Bethany thrust her tongue inside his mouth. She gripped his shoulders when he cupped her buttocks and lifted her up and into his throbbing arousal.
As quickly as she had instigated the kiss, she ended it. Lifting her head, she stared into his smoldering blue-gray eyes. "We both needed to know, didn't we?" she asked breathlessly. "It was best to go ahead and find out, to get it out of the way."
Dammit, he cursed silently. The kiss had been some sort of test, a gauge to check their passion. Well, she'd found out what she wanted to know, hadn't she? He still wanted her as much as he ever had. And she still wanted him.
"So now that we know we still want each other, where do we go from here?" he asked.
"We don't go anywhere," she told him. "When I was a teenager, I confused passion with love. I thought that because you wanted me, because we both exploded like Fourth of July fireworks every time we had sex, it meant that you loved me. I'm not that silly, naive girl. I know that people can desire each other without loving each other.
"I still want you, Morgan." Her chin quivered slightly. The moment her gaze faltered, she forced herself to look up at him again. "But I don't love you. If I feel anything, other than this unwanted desire, it's fear. I'm afraid you'll try to use me again. And I'm afraid in a weak moment, I might let you."
What could he say to her? How could he justify his past treatment of her? He wanted to deny that he had used her, that he'd taken her sweet innocence and then left her as if she'd meant nothing to him. If he told her that he'd come back for her—on her wedding day—would she believe him? And if she did, would it change anything between them?
"The passion we feel now, the passion we've always felt for each other, won't just go away because we want it to," Morgan said.
"No, it won't go away," she admitted. "But I intend to do everything in my power to control it. My life is in a big enough mess as it is. I don't need to complicate it even more. I want you—I need you—in my life right now, but not as my lover."
Before he could reply, she turned and fled up the stairs. "Beth!" he called to her, but she ran into her room and slammed the door.
"Would it matter if I said I'm sorry that I used you, that I hurt you, that I deserted you?" He whispered the question into the quiet stillness as he stood alone in the foyer.
* * *
Chapter 4
« ^ »
Kane had slept with his door open to the hallway. The fewer physical barriers between Bethany and him, the better. Although he knew no one could break into the house and get past him to her bedroom, he would have preferred sleeping in her room. He was well aware that she would have strongly objected to the suggestion. She'd made it perfectly clear that although she wanted him, she had no intention of giving in to her desire. He'd treated her badly once, and she'd never forgiven him. In a way, he supposed he'd never really forgiven himself.
But he wasn't that same rebellious, self-centered young man he'd been sixteen years ago. If he had it to do over again, he'd take Beth with him when he left Birmingham. But as the old saying went: Hindsight Is Twenty-Twenty.
And Bethany certainly wasn't the same shy, insecure young woman she'd been when he left her. The girl he'd known back then never would have taken the initiative and led him into a passionate kiss the way she'd done last night. Nor would his sweet, trusting Beth have warned him that she was going to do everything in her power to control the desire she felt for him.
What he couldn't figure out was why, if she feared succumbing to their mutual attraction, she had allowed him to take the job as her bodyguard? If she'd asked for another agent, Dane could have sent Hawk or Denby, who were both between assignments. Seeing what a strong woman Beth had become, he didn't think she had given in to either Claudia's or Anne Marie's pleas to hire him. No, there had to be another reason. But what?
I want you—I need you—in my life right now, but not as my lover.
Why did she want him? Why did she need him, and not just any bodyguard? He would ask her, if he thought she'd tell him. But his instincts warned him that she wasn't ready to share any more of herself than she already had. The girl he had once known so well was an enigma to him now—a puzzle with several missing pieces. Sooner or later, though, he'd find those pieces and solve the puzzle. Then he'd have the answer to all his questions.
As long as her stubbornness didn't endanger her life, he'd let Bethany have her way. But the minute circumstances changed—the minute another attempt was made on her life—the rules would change. For the time being, she could run the show; later she'd have to let him be in charge.
He stayed awake long after Beth and Anne Marie had gone to sleep. Once he'd checked the security system, he decided it was
adequate enough to hinder any amateurs, but not a professional. Farraday's killer wasn't a professional, nor, he assumed, were any of Farraday's thousands of redneck fans. But Kane didn't intend to rule out anything or anyone in this equation. Beth's life could well depend on his highly trained skills and his almost infallible instincts.
He lay in bed, on top of the spread, and listened to the night sounds. An occasional chirping cricket. The howling of a dog several houses up the street. The slamming of car doors when neighbors returned home late.
And he thought about Bethany. About how close she was. About how easy it would be to cross the hall and go into her room. He ached with the need to possess her, to find again the wild, sweet fulfillment he'd never found with another woman.
He slept off and on after midnight. Over the years, he'd grown accustomed to getting by on a couple hours or less of sleep a night. Then when an assignment ended, he'd crash for days.
He seldom used an alarm. His body possessed an internal clock that woke him early every morning. Part of his training. Part of the man the Navy had made him.
He woke before dawn, showered, shaved and dressed, then using his cellular phone, he made a few calls. When he interrupted Dane Carmichael's breakfast, he apologized.
"So what's so urgent you couldn't wait until I got to the office?" Dane asked.
"Later today, I'm going to fax you some information about the Jimmy Farraday murder case and I want you to look over everything I send you. Look it over with an unbiased, critical eye. I can't be totally objective. I'm personally involved."
"The woman, Bethany Wyndham, was married to a relative of yours," Dane said. "According to Maxine Carson, it was very important to your mother that you take this case. I wondered how you'd handle the situation since Ms. Wyndham is practically family."
"There's more to it than that," Morgan admitted. "Years ago … before I went into the Navy, I was involved with Bethany."
"She was your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. She was mine."
A MAN LIKE MORGAN KANE Page 6
