by Nikki Logan
‘What?’ Tash sat up straight. ‘Why wasn’t that in her diaries?’
He measured his words as he thought that through. ‘Perhaps your father. He was a petty and jealous man. My mere name enraged him. Maybe she feared he would read her diaries?’
Yes. He was absolutely the sort to do that. And to take out that anger on her mother. ‘But then you were together, and she wrote about that.’ If she hadn’t, Tash wouldn’t have known about any of it.
‘She’d left him by the time she wrote about it. I remember her saying, once, that she left blank pages in the diary where I would be.’
‘So she went back and wrote it in?’
‘I assume so. Once she was safe to.’
Safe. So he knew. Anxiety churned over in her stomach. She wanted to ask but knew it would be an accusation. ‘How could you leave her with him?’ she whispered. ‘Knowing how violent he was?’
His skin blanched. ‘I acted as soon as I knew for sure. But Adele refused to let me expose myself. The most I could do was give her the money she needed to get the two of you away from him. And arrange the trigger.’
Tash studied the awkwardness of his expression. The careful way his eyes avoided her. ‘Trigger?’
Nathaniel blew out a long breath. ‘I made sure that Eric found out about us. To force his hand. Your mother never knew.’
The accidental slip by her mother’s sister suddenly made more sense. Not accidental at all. But her father didn’t like Aunt Karen and so would totally have bought the apparent betrayal. And revelled in it. ‘But then you were exposed.’
His eyes were so earnest. So very intent. ‘I didn’t care about my reputation. I just wanted her safe. And you, too.’
And maybe he’d wanted to bring things to a head even two decades ago. So he’d manufactured the trigger and funded her mother’s escape and the cottage they’d moved straight into. Did Laura know that?
‘So...what happened at university, then? Why didn’t you stay together?’ If the love was so deep.
He shrugged. ‘Aiden was conceived.’
She wasn’t quick enough to moderate the inward suck of her shock. ‘You slept with Laura while you were seeing my mother?’
‘No.’ The fierceness of his denial threw her. Considering it was coming from a man who’d cheated on his wife. ‘We broke up for three weeks over something stupid but in that time I...’ His colour rose. ‘I was a child for all I thought I knew about the world. I slept with Laura to make a statement.’
Oh, God. ‘And she got pregnant.’
‘She did.’
Instant karma. ‘When did you find out?’
‘About a month after your mother and I got back together.’
‘And you stood by Laura?’
His back straightened. ‘I got her pregnant. It was the eighties.’
Exactly; not the fifties. But Nathaniel Moore was old school in some ways. And maybe his honour was as twisted as his son’s. ‘And Mum?’
‘Devastated.’ As you would be. ‘I don’t think she ever would have become involved with Eric if I hadn’t hurt her so badly.’
‘You blame yourself.’
‘Every day for the past thirty years.’
‘But you don’t blame Aiden?’ Where did that come from? And why did she care what kind of relationship was between the two men?
Nathaniel studied her closely. ‘Tash. I hope you’re not entertaining thoughts of...Aiden and you would not be a good fit.’
The low blow got her hackles up. That kind of attitude was not something she expected from this man, so disappointment bit low and sharp. ‘Not good enough for the Moore heir, Nathaniel?
His eyes hardened. ‘You know me better than that. He should be lucky to find a woman as intelligent and talented and good as you.’
The betrayal stung. For Aiden. ‘He’s your son.’
‘That’s right, he is. And so I’m in the best position to suggest that he’s a bad fit for someone with your softness. I just think you can do...better,’ he urged, unnaturally intent.
Awkwardness saturated the air around them for the first time. ‘Well, you don’t have to worry. We don’t have that kind of relationship.’
‘Promise me you won’t get involved with him. On your mother’s memory.’
Images of heady kisses amongst luxury coats skittered through her mind. But her mother’s memory was not something she could take lightly. ‘I promise I will never settle for less than I believe I’m worth. How’s that?’
Not good enough, judging by the shadow that struck across his gaze. ‘Tash—’
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ a thoroughly unamused voice said from behind. ‘Richard was hoping to get a few moments of your attention some time today.’
Nathaniel straightened as stiffly as if he’d been caught ensconced in conversation with Adele rather than her daughter. Tash used the moment it took him to push to his feet to brush away her confusion at what had just passed.
Nathaniel warning her thoroughly off his son. Was Aiden really that damaged?
‘Yes. Of course,’ he said.
Nathaniel excused himself and quietly closed the glass door between the viewing room and the socialising room behind him. Neither man met the other’s eyes as they passed. Aiden gifted all his concentration to the football game proceeding far below in the stadium, then turned to stare at his father, inside.
Pain reflected back at him from the glass.
Watching two men who loved each other drift so far apart was awful.
‘How are you doing?’ Tash risked after a tense silence.
His answer was only a nod, but at least he tossed that in her direction. ‘How’s the piece coming along?’
‘Very well. It’s shaping up to be quite something.’
More silence. Excellent.
But before she could break it, he turned and spoke directly to her for the first time in days. ‘You know, you don’t need to feign interest in things to spend time with him. He’s not going anywhere now that he’s found you.’
Tash sighed to discover they were still no closer to a truce than before. ‘I’m not feigning anything.’
‘You don’t strike me as an Aussie Rules fan.’
‘This is my team. I used to come with my mother. I love football.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘You find that hard to believe?’
‘You’re more WAG territory than fan territory. And you laugh at his jokes constantly. You’re telling me that’s not a bit sycophantic?’
Tash frowned. What was going on? ‘We share a sense of humour.’
‘You’ve even adopted some of his mannerisms.’
‘What mannerisms?’
‘That one there, for starters. The single brow-lift when challenged.’
Oh, for crying out loud. ‘Me and half the world.’
‘You’re playing up to him.’
She curled her fingers at the side where he couldn’t see them. ‘No. I’m not. We just have things in common.’
‘Carefully engineered things.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘To draw him closer. To reel him in.’
She let the insult slide. Those she was used to. ‘To what end? You’ve already said he’s not going anywhere.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe just shoring up your place in his life?’
Or Aiden’s place, perhaps. Something about the turmoil behind his eyes hit her then. A trace of desperation. In a man who’d negotiated as many big deals as Aiden had, that was a careless tell. She stood and crossed to his side by the viewing window.
‘Aiden, look...’ He turned a baleful expression on her. ‘I can see how bad things are between your father and you and I know how that must feel—’
&nb
sp; ‘Oh, you know? Really?’
Actually yes, she did. As a woman who’d spent her childhood trying to be good enough to please her father.
She tried again. ‘I’m sure it’s easier to target your anger on me—’
‘You don’t think you’ve earned my displeasure?’
‘We were both kids, then—’
‘I’m not talking about then. I’m talking about now.’
‘What am I doing that’s making you so mad?’
‘You’re flirting with him.’
Seriously? This again? ‘I’m not—’
‘I’m not saying it’s sexual, but you’re hovering, keeping him on your hook.’
‘I’m—’
‘What hope does he have of getting things sorted between him and my mother if you’re hanging around reminding him of her?’
Colour flared up his neck and her heart squeezed. It was slow to fill again.
She lowered her voice. ‘Is that what you want? For them to sort things out?’
He stepped dangerously closer and lowered his voice. ‘I want to visit my mother and not find her with an inch of make-up over obviously swollen eyes. I want my father’s attention back on MooreCo and not constantly fixated on the past while important deals wither. I want him to stop finding excuses to invite her shadow along to every little thing.’
It hurt being nothing more than her mother’s shadow in Aiden’s eyes. Tash tipped her head—would he accuse her of copying another of his father’s traits?—and regarded him. ‘I think you would have preferred it if your father and I were having an affair.’
‘Bloody oath I would. At least it would only be physical.’
Her blood was simmering well and truly now. But it was an ice-cold bubbling. She stood straighter. ‘And why’s that?’
‘Because of who you both are: the CEO and the artisan. At least then there’d be no emotional threat.’
He said ‘artisan’ as if he meant ‘courtesan’. Old scabs of worth tore open deep down inside. ‘You don’t think a CEO and a glass-blower could make it work?’
His laugh was harsh. ‘Do you?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not. You certainly seemed interested enough.’
And suddenly she realised they weren’t talking about Nathaniel at all. This was about those heavenly moments in the coatroom. When nothing but the chemistry between them mattered.
‘I’m not talking short-term.’ His eyes raked her from the ground up. ‘That’s totally possible. I’m talking more permanent.’
Emotional threat, he’d said. As though long-term relationships were pure danger to him. She picked her words with precision. ‘Are you saying I’m unworthy of more?’
‘Not at all. You’re a beautiful woman, exceptionally talented. You’re worthy of much more than you’ve had. But we come from completely different worlds.’
Thank you, Mr Darcy. ‘I’m perfectly capable of running in your world. I did it for a year.’
‘Jardine’s world is small fry compared to the sharks I swim with.’
How apt.
‘You wouldn’t last a week,’ he went on.
She straightened. ‘Is that so?’
‘Very much so.’
‘Prove it.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t have to prove it. I know it.’
‘Come on, Moore. Put your money where your mouth is.’
‘You want to bet on it?’
Why not? ‘Yes.’
‘On whether or not you can survive in my world?’
‘Yes. Because you have some fairly unattractive ideas about life and I think you’re wrong.’ Suddenly, proving him wrong felt vitally important. Both for his sake and hers.
‘That’s ludicrous.’
‘You don’t want me out of circulation?’ she challenged and his eyes narrowed. ‘I can’t be distracting your father if I’m out with you all the time, can I? Isn’t that what you want?’ An opportunity for him to refocus on his wife.
Her words soaked into his busy brain as she studied him closely. Because yes, that was exactly what he wanted. Which would explain why he’d said yes, but why had she suggested it?
He leaned his hip onto the balustrade of the viewing window and crossed one foot carelessly over the other. ‘What are you offering?’
‘Not what you’re thinking.’ She shut that one down quick smart. ‘Let me prove to you that status has no bearing on whether two people can get along.’
‘Get along? Is that what we’re talking about?’
She ignored him. ‘On one condition.’
‘This whole thing is your condition.’
‘You extend me the same courtesy.’
Blue eyes narrowed. ‘How?’
‘You come to a few things with me.’
‘What sort of things?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought of them yet. My things.’
‘And this will prove what, exactly?’
‘That you’re a decent guy. And that relationships work both ways.’
He leaned in and murmured, ‘And why is that important?’
Absolutely no idea. It just was. As important as proving she was up to mingling with the beautiful people. She was desperate to get a glimpse of the Aiden his father saw. The Aiden of youth.
If that Aiden even existed any more.
His lips parted in a knowing smile. He glanced inside where some of MooreCo’s biggest clients were doing a great job of draining the bar and stripping the platters of shellfish. ‘If this is an example of how you handle an upper-class crowd—hiding out in the viewing room—then we’re not off to a great start.’
‘Forgive me for thinking I was invited to watch the football.’ Tash tossed back her hair and straightened, indignation roiling through her. ‘Let the games begin, then.’
With that, she strode to the door, opened it wide and marched through, a bright smile fixed on her face. ‘Gentlemen...’
* * *
It took a special talent to be able to distract a group of over-privileged executives from an open bar and seafood buffet but Aiden took peculiar pleasure in watching Tash pull it off. He’d seen her work her magic at the launch party but that was a very different environment. This was the MooreCo corporate box—a much-lauded haven of excess and indulgence. A what-happens-in-the-corporate-box-stays-in-the-corporate-box type of place. A woman that looked like Tash was just as likely to find herself with a fifty tucked in her cleavage in this room.
But no...
She had them eating out of her hand.
Not that there wasn’t an obligatory amount of speculation in all their eyes, but they weren’t voicing it. And they weren’t acting on it. They were being...respectful. That didn’t happen all that often in here. Though a lot of business definitely got done here. Which was kind of the point.
‘Are you just going to watch?’
The colour in her cheeks was high as she drifted towards him. And incredibly appealing. ‘Looks like you’re doing fine all by yourself,’ he said, forcing away thoughts of how he could get her just as flushed. It involved kicking everyone else out of here and Tash pressing outwards against the big glass wall that separated them from the screaming fans.
He cleared his throat. ‘What are you talking about with them?’
‘The match. The installation. How glass-blowing works.’
‘What happens when you’ve used all those up?’
‘Then I fake interest in their business.’
A laugh barked out of him. ‘Is that what you did with me? When you were asking questions about MooreCo?’
‘You love talking about yourself, and your work by extension. It was the natural in.’
He couldn’t help the chuckle. It
was true. A robust ego was essential at his level of business.
She tipped her head in that way that was so like his father. ‘No one’s ever called you on that before?’
‘Most people are too polite to actually comment.’
‘Advantage of being an artisan,’ she tossed back at him, popping a carrot stick between those full lips and then crunching down on it. ‘Socially inappropriate is tolerated.’
He glanced at his father, deep in discussion on the far side of the room.
‘Looks like he’s not so distracted, after all,’ she murmured.
‘About time,’ he muttered.
She kicked her chin up. ‘Don’t tell me you’re not up to running things for a bit?’
‘Oh, I’m up to it. I’d just like it to be on different terms.’
One brow lifted. ‘Your terms?’
He stared at her. ‘Different terms.’
She wasn’t convinced. But she also wasn’t going to press. ‘So what do you think? Am I assimilating nicely?’
He couldn’t help the smile. ‘You’re doing great.’
‘Ready to eat your words, yet?’
‘Not even close.’
‘This room is full of ambitious executives. What more will it take to convince you?’
‘A room full of their ambitious wives.’ He knew the type well. Hungry for the success of their husbands and the lifestyle that it bought. Protective of whatever edge they had. Suspicious of beautiful young women trying too hard.
His mother in multiple guises, in other words. ‘I’ll review after that,’ he finished.
‘After what?’
‘After you come with me to dinner Friday night. At Maxima.’
Dropping the name of the city’s most exclusive restaurant did little more than thud mutely on the expensive carpet in the corporate box. It certainly didn’t impress Tash. At all.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘A business dinner this weekend. How convenient.’
‘I have one just about every weekend.’ Sometimes two. And why was he defending himself?
She scrunched her nose. ‘How tiresome.’
Yeah, it was sometimes. Increasingly so. ‘It’s business.’
She leaned closer to him. Just a hint. ‘And are you always about business?’