Secrets and Seduction

by Jane Beckenham

  “Curtis is dead,” she finally said.

  “We know. That’s why we want her.”

  Leah’s body jerked as if she’d been stabbed. “I beg your pardon. You just said a visit.”

  “You heard me, missy. We want, what’s her name, Charlee,” he said, coughing into the phone, “want her to come and live with us. We can get a benefit from social services if we raise our grandkid.”

  The old man’s words thundered inside Leah’s brain, wreaking havoc. Secrets. Always secrets. They would destroy her.

  “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning, we’ll come and get her.”

  A hollow gasp slid from her throat. “You can’t. That’s…too soon.” Anytime would be too soon. “Who’s we? How do you know where I am?”

  “Agnes and me tracked you down. Heard you had a fire. Lost everything. How the heck can you look after the kid now? Besides, if the court hears you ain’t got a brass razoo, they’ll give us permanent custody. Tina was our only child. Sad for us, alone in our old age and no family.”

  “Where is Tina?”

  “Died of a drug overdose,” he said.

  Leah heard not one ounce of emotion in the man’s voice. “I didn’t know.”

  “Always a wild one. Couldn’t control her.”

  Leah scrambled for a way to forestall him. “This is far too soon. You’ll have to give me time.”

  “Ain’t no time like the present. Tomorrow.”

  “No!” But it was too late. The phone line went dead.

  They wanted her daughter. First Mac, now the Harcourts. Would it ever end? She had to do something, anything. No one would take Charlee from her.

  Barely able to function, her mind in darkness, she sat on the floor in silence until finally she glanced at her watch, struggling to focus on the ticking hands.

  Five p.m. Time was passing. Tomorrow would come too soon.

  She crawled back onto her feet. Mac had said seven p.m. She had two hours to come up with a plan.

  But an hour later, she still had no idea what to do. She couldn’t afford a lawyer or a court battle; besides, that option had already been ruled out when she’d thought she could fight Mac. What she needed was legal status. Guardianship.

  Hope rose in her heart. Surely that would work. Somehow she had to become legal guardian to Charlee. There had to be a way.

  Leah knew she should have done something about this long before, while Curtis was alive. She’d suggested she legally adopt Charlee, but he’d vetoed any effort on her part. That was how he controlled her. She remembered his victorious sneer when he’d told her she could go, but she could never take Charlee. Curtis knew she’d never leave the little girl. And so she’d stayed in a bad relationship, with her husband who Charlee had called the bad man. Not daddy.

  Then when he’d died, there was no money left anyway. Now time had run out.

  Pacing the length of the penthouse lounge, Leah dug deep for ideas, only to realise every plan proved futile—except one.

  Mac intended to take her out to dinner, but she had no other choice. She and Charlee would be gone before he arrived.

  A sad memory twisted her heart. Hadn’t he said those very words the day he’d come into their lives? No choice.

  Nothing had changed.

  She raced for her bedroom, then dragged out a suitcase she’d seen in the back of one of the closets and began tossing in her meager clothes. In Charlee’s room, she gathered up her clothes and the smoke-ravaged toy Charlee had clutched as they’d escaped with their lives from her burning house. Since then, Charlee had refused to let the toy be washed, taking it to bed with her every night. Case locked, she stood silent for a few moments. Everything fit into the one case. Her life in one suitcase.

  She was leaving her new home. Funny, but in a few short weeks, Mac’s apartment had become her home. It could have been a shack, for all she cared. Being with Mac had made it home. Now it was time to go, to give it all up. People versus things. Easy choice, really.

  Mac could concentrate on one thing only: Leah.

  God, how he wanted her. The depth and intensity of his desire shook him, making it as real as any feeling he’d ever experienced. More so.

  Hell, he was no angel. He liked women. They loved him. But he didn’t do love.

  Absentmindedly, he realized the fingers of his right hand massaged the whitened scars gouged deep into the skin of his other. It had been a long time ago. He’d been young, in love, in lust. Irresponsible.

  But death didn’t have mercy on the young, and one mistake had changed the course of his life.

  Years ago, he’d gotten caught up in the wiles of Carissa, a young Cuban with doe eyes and the sultry voice of liquid heat. She’d enticed him until all he had thought about was her and sex.

  Just like now.

  No! His denial came instantly and easily. Leah was nothing like Carissa. Those days were nothing like now.

  Aren’t they?

  Missing the chopper flight back to the rig, not relieving his overtired coworker, had led to dire consequences. Mistakes were made, death the result.

  In Mac’s mind, lust had a lot to answer for.

  Now there was Leah. And lust. But so very different. His need for her ate into his heart, his mind and body. It wasn’t just about the sex anymore. It was about…talking with Leah, laughing with her, doing silly little things like coming home from work early because he missed her.

  Then there was his promise to Curtis.

  Every time he reread Curtis’s emails and tried to match his brother’s acerbic diatribe to the woman Mac watched every day and slept beside every night, waiting for her to make a mistake, his confusion was exacerbated. It didn’t make sense. Not his Leah; she wasn’t those things.

  Dropping the report to his desk, he eased back in his chair, resting tired eyes for a moment. Trouble was, every time he shut them, he was bombarded by visions of Leah. Her smile. The memory of her delicious body sliding against his. The texture of her skin firing every part of him alive.

  He could hear her too. Hear her soft moans as he brought her to orgasm and feel the heated flush across her skin, witness delight in her eyes.

  Yep. Absolutely in lust.

  The staccato beep of his mobile echoed from the inside pocket of his jacket, breaking off his dreams. “Hello.” The voice Mac had been waiting to hear ground his world to a halt. “Are you sure the information is correct?” he questioned after his caller outlined his report in minute detail. It had been information Mac had wanted to hear…once. Now? Now, he wasn’t so sure. How could good news be bad? “Send me the report,” he bit out, and the caller disconnected, leaving Mac alone with his conscience.

  Head bent, brow furrowed and deep in thought, he wondered how Leah would react to this development.

  Suddenly, it was vitally important he admit to her he’d been wrong. He had to make it right. He had to see her and explain.

  Grateful his office was less than thirty seconds away from his penthouse, because right now he didn’t think he could wait a second longer, he shot out of the office. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, he took the stairs to the penthouse two at a time. The dinner and show he had been going to take Leah to could wait. This couldn’t.

  Light suddenly filled the bedroom, and Leah froze.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Mac stood at the door, his tie already off, shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his jacketed hooked over his shoulder. She spied a smattering of dark hair beneath the fine silk shirt, and her mouth dried, remembering the erotic feel of it beneath her fingertips. Her heart constricted. She was leaving, and she’d never feel that again. Never be able to hold him, kiss him. Make love.

  Enough! Leah pulled herself back mentally as well as physically. She had to do this. She had no choice. She lifted her chin as if daring him to try to stop her. “Away,” she answered.

  His expression hardened. “Where, precisely?”

  Leah’s hold on the suitcase handle tightened.
“That’s none of your concern.”

  Fury and disappointment colored Mac’s expression and fueled her guilt.

  “I’m sorry, but… Thank you for your help and everything, but I…we need to go.” She glanced at her watch. The second hand ticked…always forward. Time had run out.

  “That’s where you’re completely wrong. I’m Charlee’s uncle. It’s my job to look out for her.”

  Leah ignored his fighting words. She had a fight of her own. “I’ll phone you when we’re settled. Right now…we are going.” The suitcase in hand she shoved past him, heading for the front door.

  “Don’t go. Stay.”

  “Don’t ask me that. Please.” Leah stole a glance at him over her shoulder. Big mistake. Gone was Mac’s usual calm self, the man in control, replaced instead by a desperate darkness and confusion in his eyes, clear disbelief that she was walking out on him without even saying goodbye.

  He made a move toward her. “Why? What’s going on, Leah? I thought we had something.”

  “Something temporary,” she reiterated, refusing to allow her heart a voice. This had to be all about her head and keeping Charlee safe.

  “And the distraction is over, is that it? Or perhaps there’s someone else, a bigger fish to fry? A better bank?”

  Her heat broke a little more at his accusation. “Oh, Mac. You’d ask me that?”

  “What did you expect me to say? I thought we were…”

  “Getting along,” she finished for him, setting the bag down at the door for a moment. “Sex, Mac. That’s all we have. You’re still the man who wants to test me, and I won’t be controlled. Not again.”

  “You’re running.” His accusation cut to the core.

  Accusations she could deal with; they were simply words. Leah straightened, pushing her shoulders back as if the action would bestow her with added courage. “I’m sorry, but I won’t change my mind.” Her hand tightened on the doorknob, lips suddenly trembling and the tears she’d refused to acknowledge brimming. Her courage, or what was left of the smidgen she possessed, slipped precariously. She bent and retrieved her suitcase, but then Mac did what she desperately wished he wouldn’t. He reached out and touched her, warm fingers caressing a path along her cheek, the tip of one finger brushing against the corner of her mouth.

  Her tremble worsened, and a single tear escaped to trail down her cheek. And damn it…he wiped it away with a gentleness that broke her resistance. The suitcase slid from her frozen fingertips and dropped to the floor with a thud. “They can’t do this; they can’t. She’s my daughter.”

  “Leah?”

  She lifted tear-rimmed eyes to him. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t lose Charlee. She’s all I have left.”

  Mac scowled. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”

  “Her grandparents, they want to take her, have her.”

  “Your parents? I thought they were dead.”

  “They are.”

  Mac’s hand fell away from her, and he took a step back. “Shit.” Disbelief was etched across every inch of his face. “You’ve bloody lied again, haven’t you?”

  “No…I…”

  He folded his arms across his chest, the edges of his mouth turning downward, eyes reflecting the blackness of hell. “Perhaps you should elaborate a bit more.”

  Leah struggled to find any words that would make sense. Make it okay.

  Unable to cope with his obdurate condemnation, she walked out of the bedroom and into the lounge and took a seat. She tucked her hands beneath her to stem their shaking, praying for calm, all the while knowing her chance to escape closed off with every passing minute.

  Mac followed and loomed over her, his presence omnipotent. “It’s about Charlee,” she choked out in a whispered breath.

  “Is she all right?” His tone held a hint of sudden fear.

  “She’s fine,” she said, reassuring him. “She’s with Betty.”

  “But you were about to go get her and run.”

  It was a statement she couldn’t deny.

  His scarred hand snatched at her wrist as he hauled her up from her seat. She came up hard against him, felt his heat, but inside she was as cold as driven snow.

  “The truth, Leah. For once, tell me the truth.”

  “I can’t. It will destroy everything.” Secrets were better. They kept her safe, kept Charlee safe, with her.

  “What the hell do you mean by grandparents? My parents are gone too. Whose grandparents?”

  Her gaze fell on the soft toy on the floor by the suitcase. How Charlee loved that toy, hugged it to her as she fell asleep. Along with the residual taint of smoke, it smelt of Charlee, that soft baby smell that Leah had drawn comfort from when the days and nights had been so hard before Curtis’s death.

  Now she had another fight on her hands. She switched her attention to Mac, refusing to wither under his disarming scrutiny. “Charlee’s mother’s parents.”

  “But you’re…”

  “Let me go, Mac. Don’t act like a Neanderthal. I don’t need that right now.”

  “And I need the bloody truth, or I can’t help you.” But he did release her, and she sank back to the seat behind her.

  “Don’t tower over me. It won’t work.”

  Mac took the seat opposite her, his granite-like expression not giving one hint of redemption as far as she was concerned.

  “Help,” she said, scoffing. “You want to help? Since when? You want to make me out to be the big bad wolf. Well, let me tell you…” But a shuddering sob wrenched from her chest, and she choked back a hiccup. Oh, God, she had to tell the truth. “I’m not Charlee’s mother.”

  Disbelief etched Mac’s face. “What?”

  Sorrow eclipsed Leah’s pain. “Your golden boy of a brother had an affair.”

  Mac started to speak, then stopped.

  Did he believe her? Swallowing back her mounting panic, she continued. “We’d only been married a short time. Apparently, his mistress…”

  “He had a mistress?”

  “Surprised? You shouldn’t be. Curtis was never satisfied with just a wife.”

  Mac’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Go on.”

  “His mistress fell pregnant but decided she couldn’t be bothered being a mother. She dropped Charlee off on the doorstep and left.”

  Mac cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening. He focused his attention back on her, his scrutiny seeping under her skin. “What did you do?”

  “I stayed, of course, blinded by love. More fool me. Besides, how could I leave Charlee? I fell in love with her.”

  “I see. And Curtis?”

  A harsh crack of laughter caught in her throat. “No, you don’t see. You have no idea. None at all. You traipse across the world, enmeshed in your millionaire lifestyle, and when guilt strikes, you come home and barge your way into my life.”

  “So what happened today to make you want to run?” Mac’s voice softened, sounded as if he even cared. He sat beside her, not touching.

  Leah itched to take his hand, to hold it, seek respite from his warmth. But it would be a mistake. Touching him might make her stay. Instead, she hooked her fingers together, rested her hands in her lap and prayed for the willpower to resist. “I had a phone call from Tina’s parents. They heard about the fire and somehow traced me.” Leah recounted the nightmare conversation word for word. “They’re old and lonely. Tina is dead,” she said, finishing.

  “How?”

  “Drugs, apparently.”

  Mac stiffened, then shot to his feet. “No bloody way will they get their hands on Charlee. They’ll not take her from me. Not now. Not from us.”

  “They want my baby, Mac, and the reality is, I have no say in the matter. I’m her mother, but in their eyes and the eyes of the law, I’m no one.”

  “So you chose to run. You didn’t think to tell me, ask for my help?”

  “Why would I? You only care about having me in your bed, about blaming me for
something Curtis insinuated. You don’t believe me; you never have. So why would I turn to you for help?”

  For the first time since he arrived home, a tiny smile tugged at his mouth. “Only slightly true. What we have in bed is…good. As for the other, well, let’s talk about that later. Right now, we have to sort this out. Do you think they’ll fight in court?”

  “He threatened to and…well,” she said, looking away from him for a moment, “I can’t fight them. Not now.”

  “You wanted to fight me. Why not them?”

  “Because…oh Mac. My legal status is precarious at best, despite the fact that I love her and have cared for her and brought her up. I’m the only mother she knows.” Leah found herself wringing her hands. “What’s the saying about blood being thicker than water? What would the courts say?”

  “No matter what people say, you are her real mother.”

  That Mac said that warmed Leah right through, yet she couldn’t even manage a smile on her frozen lips. “Thank you.”

  He stood before her and rested his hands on her shoulders, his sudden heat real and giving her strength as his unyielding expression at last softened. He said nothing, then turned away and drew an envelope from his pocket. He stared at it for a moment, and then he put it back and turned to face her, a formidable determination in his eyes.

  “I see only one way out of this,” he said.

  Only one? So much for choices.

  “We get married.”

  Shock hit her hard. No way had she expected that. “Pardon?”

  “You heard me, Leah. We get married. Hitched.”

  She shook her head. “No. No, that is just not going to happen. I can’t. Not again.” And never to a Grainger.

  “You’ve done it before.”

  “What about the Ten Commandments?” she threw at him in desperation

  “Good try, sweetheart, but you’ve got that mixed up with thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. So, now you marry me.”

  “We don’t love—”

  “Not necessary,” he said, cutting her off. “This will be a marriage of convenience.”

  Relief surged. It wouldn’t be real but a fake marriage. She could face that. Maybe. “A business deal?” she asked, unsure what kind of answer she hoped for.