by Judy Duarte
If things were different, if she’d never dated Zach, Kieran might suggest they take a bottle of wine and the Lawsons’ all-terrain vehicle out to a quiet spot by the pond, where they could watch a waning sunset turn into a cozy, romantic evening.
As tempting as the thought might be, it was a bad idea. The last thing in the world he needed to do was make a move on Dana, who might never forget Zach.
Kieran had fought long and hard to stand out in his family and at Robinson Tech, and he’d succeeded. So he wasn’t about to take a back seat to anyone, even if that guy had once been the best friend he’d ever had.
* * *
As Dana and Kieran passed a corral on their aimless walk to nowhere in particular, she didn’t want it to end. The light breeze refreshed her after a day’s work indoors, and so did the sights and sounds of the ranch preparing for nightfall. But it was the man beside her that commanded her full attention.
His swagger and his musky scent stirred a longing deep in her soul. When her shoulder inadvertently bumped his arm, his male presence slammed into her, creating thoughts that were way too romantic for her own good. And for one long beat, her heart stalled.
The weathervane creaked and a horse whinnied in the distance. Yet her thoughts centered on the man beside her who was so close that she could have easily reached out and taken his hand in hers, a move that seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to do. But she’d never been that bold.
Instead she relied on her vivid imagination, which allowed her to live vicariously through the novels she read or the many historical figures who often came alive after she’d researched them at the center.
But Kieran Fortune was made of flesh and blood, a millennial man who wasn’t the kind of hero a woman like her should even dream about. If she were to act on her silly romantic musings, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
That might sound as if she thought she was unworthy of him, which wasn’t true. She had a solid self-image. She just preferred not to hobnob with the rich and famous. And that’s what he was.
People wrote magazine and newspaper articles about men like him all the time, which reminded her of the phone call she received earlier today.
“There’s something I thought I’d better tell you,” she said. “A journalist contacted me at the history center today and asked if she could set up an appointment to meet with me and to do some research for an article she’s writing.”
Kieran continued the pace they’d set, but he glanced at Dana with a quizzical expression. “And...?”
Apparently, he wasn’t sure why she’d brought up something that was practically an everyday occurrence where she worked, but there was a good reason she wanted him to know.
“Her name is Ariana Lamonte, and she’s profiling the ‘new Fortunes’ for her blog. Then she’s going to merge the stories into an article for Weird Life magazine.”
At that, Kieran’s steps slowed to a near standstill. “I’ve heard about her. She interviewed my sister Sophie and my half brother, Keaton Whitfield.”
Dana wasn’t sure how to respond, since Kieran probably had no idea how much she knew about his family. It wasn’t all that much, but Zach had told her that several of Kieran’s half siblings had turned up recently. Apparently, Gerald Robinson aka Jerome Fortune had been a real Romeo, although Zach had used the word horndog in relating the story.
“Ariana mentioned her interest in old newspapers and magazines,” Dana said. “I can’t deny her access to the archives, but under the circumstances, I thought you should know what she’s planning to write.”
Kieran took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “It’s no big secret that my dad cheated on my mom. Not just once, but time and again. And with our involvement in the Fortune Foundation as well as Peter’s Place, a lot of people are probably curious about us.”
They might wonder why, when Gerald Robinson had never admitted to having once been known as Jerome Fortune, although Kieran and his siblings had each added on the Fortune name. They also might want to know why he’d staged his own death when he left his family ties behind—another detail Zach had revealed—and why he’d changed his name before creating a billion-dollar tech company.
Dana might have asked Kieran for details since she counted herself as one of many people intrigued by the Fortune Robinson clan—particularly Kieran—but she kept her thoughts to herself. She’d simply have to be satisfied with what Zach had revealed and what little Kieran imparted.
“Besides,” Kieran added, “Ms. Lamonte’s article might be good publicity for Robinson Tech as well as the Fortune Foundation.”
“You’re probably right. I’m glad you’re not worried about it.”
He shrugged. “I’m not proud of the things my father did, although I do admire his brilliance and his business acumen.”
“Zach admired that, too.”
Kieran merely nodded. “But I appreciate the heads-up, Dana. So thanks for letting me know, even though there isn’t much I can do about stories like that getting out.”
She smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”
But when their gazes locked, something more than a friendly look passed between them. Before she could convince herself that she might be reading him wrong, he lifted his hand and cupped her jaw. “You’re amazing.”
Her cheeks warmed, and when his thumb stroked her skin, she tingled from head to toe. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her.
But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t move at all, and neither did she. Heck, she was afraid to even breathe for fear he’d remove his hand before she’d had a chance to savor his touch.
Should she ask him what his words and his gesture meant? Maybe, but her heart was fluttering so hard she thought it might fly away, and the words jammed in her throat. Unfortunately, about the time she nearly got her act together, his hand slid off her face. Then he tore his gaze away.
When he continued to walk, she fell into step beside him again. He didn’t say another word as they circled the barn and headed back to the house. She wasn’t ready to end the short time they’d spent together, and an ache settled deep in her chest.
She was, however, eager to read Ariana Lamonte’s article when it came out. She was especially interested in the Fortune family now. And she found Kieran more intriguing than ever. So much so, that she’d be tempted to dip her toe into his world and try it on for size.
How was that for having a vivid imagination and creating a pipe dream that would never come true?
Chapter Seven
Kieran couldn’t believe how close he’d come to kissing Dana last night. But when he’d gazed into her blue eyes, he’d nearly met a sweet death. His brains deserted him, and he’d reached out and touched her face.
That was bad enough, but then he’d brushed his thumb across her cheek, felt the softness of her skin, and his hormones had shot into overdrive. For a moment, he’d forgotten who she was.
And that was a big mistake. Thankfully, he’d finally wrapped his mind around what he’d almost done, and he’d come to a screeching halt and walked away. But the damage had already been done, and he had no idea how to correct it.
Dana must have been uncomfortable, too, because once they got back to the house, she’d quickly said her goodbyes, mentioning something about a neighbor who needed her to do a favor. But he’d wager that had only been an excuse to escape him—and one that was only slightly better than having to shampoo her hair.
Needless to say, he couldn’t call her anymore to ask for her help. He couldn’t risk the temptation. Because next time, he just might take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. And then he’d be in a real fix.
He needed to get contact numbers for other babysitters for when he was at the office and in meetings, but he couldn’t ask Sandra. She’d insist upon watching Rosie hersel
f, and she already had too much on her plate. Besides, her health wasn’t the best.
Still, that meant he had to come up with something else—or rather, someone else. Someone permanent to look after Rosie for him.
For that reason, on Friday morning he’d spent an hour on the phone with an agency that provided experienced nannies for working families. Then he spent most of Saturday interviewing several potential caregivers.
He settled on Megan Baker, a reasonably attractive brunette in her late twenties, and asked her to show up bright and early on Tuesday morning. He would be going into the office, no longer working from home now that he’d hired a nanny who would solve his problem once and for all.
Megan was friendly and outgoing. She also seemed competent, so he’d left Rosie in her care. But after he returned from work Tuesday afternoon and Megan had left, Rosie met him in the kitchen with her arms crossed, her little face scrunched into a frown.
“What’s wrong, princess?”
“I don’t like her.”
The new nanny had seemed nice enough to him. “You mean Megan? Why not?”
Rosie harrumphed, then unfolded her arms and slapped her hands on her hips. “Because she ate the pink ice cream all gone. And she made me eat the chocolate, even when I don’t like it. Then she filled up her bowl again and wouldn’t even share it with me. And she only wanted to watch TV. And even when I said please, she wouldn’t play or color or read stories with me.”
At that, Kieran decided he didn’t like Megan, either.
“I’ll tell you what, Rosie. We’ll find a different nanny—one who will play with you and share the strawberry ice cream.”
She made her way to where he stood, then lifted her arms to him, indicating she wanted him to pick her up. When he did, she rested her head against his and asked, “Why can’t I just stay with you, Uncle Daddy? I’ll be really, really good.”
His heart swelled with myriad emotions, only one of which was remorse at having to leave her with a sitter. “Because I have to go into the office. And I also have to attend a lot of boring meetings.”
In spite of the guilt, a flutter of pride rose in his chest. It was nice to know that she preferred to be with him.
So the next morning, after taking her to preschool, he told the agency that he wouldn’t need Megan anymore and moved on to the next nanny candidate.
Darla Sue Williams, a maternal, heavyset woman in her midfifties, seemed to be the perfect choice. So when she arrived bright and early on Thursday morning, he again headed for the office. But when he returned just after five that evening, and after Darla Sue had waddled out the door, he turned to Rosie, who stood before him, frowning yet again.
But this time, he knew what was wrong. The little princess had found fault with nanny number two.
“I take it you didn’t like Darla Sue, either,” he said.
Rosie crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. “She can’t sit down on the floor and color with me ’cause she broke her knee one day and has Arthur Right Us in it. And when she was still eating lunch and I was going to play with my dolls, she let out a big toot and didn’t say ’scuse me.”
“She probably thought that you hadn’t heard her.”
Rosie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Then she has broken ears, too, because it was really loud and I think everyone in the world heard it.”
Kieran bit back a laugh. There was no pleasing this kid, although he had to admit Darla Sue might not be the perfect fit, either. But now what?
“Uncle Daddy,” Rosie said, “can’t you work right here like you did before? I just want to be with you.”
Damn. The blond-haired princess was too adorable for words, and it warmed his heart to know that she’d rather be with him—even if that wasn’t possible.
The most obvious solution was to increase the number of days she spent at preschool, but he’d tried doing that the first week she’d moved in with him. Miss Peggy, the preschool director, said she was sorry, but they were full. She then offered to add Rosie to the waiting list, which had seemed fair enough. That is, until Kieran learned there were already more than a dozen names on it.
“I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear,” Miss Peggy had said. When he agreed, she’d added, “You may not know this, but we have one of the best preschools in Austin.”
“Super,” he’d said, although he’d wondered if it might help Rosie’s chances of moving up to the top of the list if he made a donation of some kind. But the school wasn’t a nonprofit organization. Besides, a move like that smacked of something his father might try to pull.
So that left only one thing for Kieran to do. He’d have to take Rosie to the office with him next Tuesday morning, because there was no way he’d call Dana—no matter how badly he wanted to.
* * *
At five minutes to one o’clock on Wednesday, right after Dana returned to work from lunch, a twentysomething brunette arrived at the history center.
Normally Dana didn’t assess the visitors, but this one was attractive and had an interesting Bohemian style. Dressed in high-heeled boots, flared jeans and a paisley tunic top, the woman also carried a floppy, soft leather purse, a loose leaf notebook and a padded laptop case.
“I’m Ariana Lamonte,” she said. “I spoke to someone on the telephone last week and made an appointment to do some research today.”
“Actually, you talked to me.” Dana reached out and shook Ariana’s hand. “You’re doing an article on the new Fortunes for your blog and for Weird Life magazine.”
“That’s right.” Ariana smiled, as she wrapped Dana’s hand in a strong, confident grip. “I came to check the archives for newspapers and magazines from about thirty years ago.”
“No problem. But before I take you to the reading room, you’ll need to sign in at the front desk.”
Ariana did as instructed.
“You’ll also have to place your bags in one of our lockers,” Dana added.
At that, Ariana shot her a questioning look.
“We ask everyone to do that so we can ensure the security and preservation of our material.”
“I understand,” Ariana said. “But what about my laptop? I’d like to take notes, if that’s all right.”
“As long as you lock up the case, you can have the laptop.”
“What about my cell phone?”
“If you take it out of your purse, you can have that, too.”
“Perfect. Are there any other rules I should be aware of?”
“They’re posted on the wall,” Dana said. “But if you want to take any handwritten notes, you can’t use a pen. I can provide a pencil and notepaper. And once you’re in the reading room, if you’d like a specific magazine or newspaper, you’ll have to fill out a call slip. One of the staff will get it for you.”
“I understand. And I guess it’s safe to assume that I can’t check out anything, and that all the material needs to stay on the premises.”
“That’s right.”
After Ariana signed in, Dana took her first to the lockers. After she put away her bags, she took her to the reading room.
“Let me know if I can get anything for you,” Dana said.
“Thank you.” Ariana smiled. “I’ll do that.”
About an hour later, after requesting several different magazines and studying various microforms for news articles, Ariana began to close up her laptop.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Dana asked.
“Not really.”
“What were you looking for?” Dana asked.
“At least a hint of why Jerome Fortune went to such extremes when he left home and changed his name to Gerald Robinson.”
Dana wasn’t about to say it, but from what she’d heard, Gerald’s children all seemed t
o have accepted whatever reason he might have had. So who was she to question them?
“But that doesn’t mean my research was a bust,” Ariana said. “One of the interviews I read implied that Gerald Robinson came to Austin nursing a broken heart, and that Charlotte Prendergast helped him pick up the pieces.”
That must be true. The couple had married and gone on to have eight children, one of whom was Kieran.
Dana had gotten most of her information from Zach, who hadn’t told her a lot. But she knew that Gerald, or rather Jerome, had lost his father and had been rejected by his mother. Zach hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d assumed that things had gotten so unbearable that Jerome Fortune had staged his own death, then changed his name.
“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ariana said.
“He was probably grief stricken by his father’s death and hurt by his mother’s rejection.” Dana had no more than uttered the assumption out loud when she wished she could reel it back in. After all, she wasn’t a family member and didn’t know the facts.
“Maybe,” Ariana said, “but I have reason to believe there was more to it than that.”
Dana wasn’t sure what the journalist meant, although she was curious and tempted to prod for more details. But she didn’t want Ariana to think she had a personal interest in that article. And she really didn’t.
She wasn’t a Fortune and never would be.
* * *
Kieran’s decision to take Rosie to the office with him the following Tuesday morning had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it hadn’t worked out that way.
Sure, everyone at Robinson Tech had oohed and aahed over the precocious little girl, who’d sat at the receptionist’s desk for an hour that morning and chatted with each employee and guest. Then Karen, his administrative assistant, had taken her into the break room and given her something to drink and a granola bar for a snack. Things went well until Rosie dropped a full, adult-size glass of OJ, scattering broken glass and sticky juice all over the floor.
For lunch, Kieran took her to Gregorio’s, a trendy Italian deli, for lunch. He ordered macaroni and cheese for her, but she pushed it aside after taking a single bite.