by Shirley Wine
"Yes," she whispered finding it exceedingly difficult to say the word.
"What about needing my undying love?" The dry mockery sent fiery color up her cheeks but she refused to look away.
"I’ll settle for being safe," she admitted, troubled and wished she had the ability to see into the future, "and keeping our little boy safe."
For long silent moments they looked at each other. Whatever Keir saw in her face must have satisfied him.
"Now that I can promise you, Victoria."
Chapter Eighteen
Victoria hovered by the telephone, uncharacteristically hesitant.
She knew she had to contact her father, but hated to do it over the phone. This was something she wanted to do, face to face¸ the better to judge his reactions.
The thought of facing down the media pack parked outside the gates, filled her with repugnance. With a sigh of impatience she punched in the familiar phone number. It was answered on the first ring.
"Dad?"
"Victoria."
His sharply expelled breath was clearly audible.
"I’ve been worrying about you. Why haven’t you been in touch? Doesn’t Donovan have a phone in that mausoleum?"
Mausoleum?
She looked around the beautiful sun room, with its magnificent houseplants, willow weave furniture and floor to ceiling windows that opened out onto a flagstone terrace and the manicured lawns and gardens.
Keir's house was no cold dreary mausoleum.
"Of course there's a phone."
"And his number's unlisted. Is it too much to expect you to keep in contact?"
The unsubtle criticism ignited the fuse of her anger. "Why? After the unprovoked way you slugged Keir, I thought it advisable to let the dust settle."
There was a pregnant pause.
"Don't take that tone with me, girlie. We've been fending off nosey bloody reporters left, right and center."
That didn’t surprise her in the least.
"And whose fault is that?" Victoria knew as soon as the silky question left her lips she'd made a mistake.
"And just what do you mean by that crack?"
"What happened to the letter Keir left for me, Dad?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"How convenient?" Her grip on the phone tightened. "The letter Keir gave Uncle Tom to give to me? What happened to it?"
The pulsing silence was answer enough. Long buried anger and resentment erupted.
"Oh baby," Andrew said on a soft sigh.
"Don't you dare oh baby me. How could you? That was my decision to make, mine and Keir’s."
"There’s no need to take that tack."
"Isn’t there?" she asked venomously. "How would you like someone to make such a life changing decision for you?"
"It wasn’t quite that simple." A hard note entered his voice. "I investigated Keir Donovan."
"You read his letter? A letter meant for me?"
"Of course I read it. I wanted to know why that bastard was so keen to keep in touch with a school girl and—"
Her heart thundered at that ominous pause. "And?"
"He was years older than you, and had a reputation as a hard, ruthless bastard even then."
Victoria struggled to equate this description with the kind caring man she’d known that summer but it just wouldn’t jell.
"That doesn't describe the man I knew."
"Grow up, girlie. The man was getting a bit of fanny on the side; of course you only saw his sweet side."
"There's no need to be crude."
"Crude! Who're calling crude?"
"Was that why you tried to force me into giving Connor up for adoption?" Long buried resentment colored her tone.
"God, Victoria. You had a brilliant mind, a great scholarship and you’ve squandered it all just to bring up some wealthy bastard’s—"
She cut him off. "Don’t you dare say it, Dad. My son is neither a brat nor a burden. And he’s been worth every sacrifice I’ve ever made. And then some."
"You were too young to be sole provider for an infant."
"And has it occurred to you that if you’d minded your own business, I would not have had to raise Connor on my own?" The acid question echoed. "Or had to sacrifice my schooling?"
"Donovan was off to America. You’re more than a little naïve to think he’d have changed his plans to accommodate a girl he’d knocked up during a summer fling."
The brutal words left her winded. She held the phone away from her ear giving it an incredulous look. She knew her father resented her decision to keep Connor, but this? "Don't judge Keir by your standards."
"Am I? I've seen a bit more of the world than you have." He father gave a snort of disgust. "You’re in cloud cuckoo land if you imagine Donovan would have given you a wedding ring. Rich bastards like him don’t marry outside their own class, even now."
The scathing contempt poured acid on an unhealed wound.
"Don't they?" The words dripped sarcasm. "It’s so nice to know you hold such a high opinion of me, and Keir, your soon to be son-in-law."
Her words were greeted with a snort of derisive laughter. "And it's bloody easy to see why he's so keen to marry you? To keep his precious job, that's why."
Victoria sucked in a harsh breath. "No, you're so wrong."
The instinctive denial didn't subdue the niggling suspicion that he was right.
"Am I? Time will tell." he said testily. "I was worried about you being hurt then and even more afraid now."
Victoria closed her eyes and sucked in a harsh breath. "No worse than the years of hurt, thinking I’d been played for a fool? Thinking my son’s father was a myth?"
"That wasn’t my doing? It was his choice to call himself Seth Donahue, and scoundrel enough to seduce a schoolgirl."
"I was eighteen, Dad. I was not schoolgirl," she said through her teeth. "You must have known that Keir had returned to New Zealand. Why didn’t you tell me? Why leave me be blindsided as I was? Surely you realized New Zealand is too small a place for us not to run into each other?"
Her heated words echoed down the telephone line.
"It’s so easy to be wise with the twenty-twenty vision of hindsight," he said at last breaking the tense silence.
"And that’s a copout!" Years of anger and resentment surfaced in a cleansing flood. "Without Keir and his compassion I would never have coped with mum’s illness. You refused to let me be beside her, if you remember."
"I did what I thought was right," he muttered. "I was having a hard time coping myself."
"But she was my mother," the words came out on a sob. "I needed to be with her too. And you made me stay away."
A hand descended on her shoulder and she glanced up into Keir’s concerned face, his features fractured by tears. The receiver was gently removed from her hand and a strong arm drew her close.
She buried her face against his chest, a storm of tears catching her completely off guard.
Dimly, she was aware of the deep rumble of his voice under her cheek. Then he scooped her up and sat down on the chair with her in his lap.
"Hush Victoria, you’ll make yourself ill," Keir soothed softly, stroking the head burrowed into his chest.
When the storm abated, he put a handkerchief in her hand and she scrubbed at her tear wet cheeks.
"It’s silly to be so upset, now," she said on a hiccup. "My mother’s been dead for more than six years."
"There’s no timetable for grief."
"He had no right to make me stay away." The angry words erupted from a festering well of bitterness. "I wanted to be with my Mum so badly."
"I know you did. I thought at the time he was wrong, but it wasn’t my place to interfere."
She plucked at his sweater, the admission hard to make. "Dad admitted intercepting your letter."
"I know. I challenged him about it’"
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"Would you have believed me?"
The hard que
stion gave her pause. Would she have believed Keir? She liked to think she would, but without her father’s confirmation, she wasn’t so sure.
"I don’t know. I’ve never had reason not to believe him before." She gave him a sober glance. "After Connor was born I begged him to see if he could find you. He told me—"
She broke off, unable to continue. Her father had not only withheld Keir’s letter, he’d outright lied to her. And that was something she was struggling to deal with.
In the tension filled silence, Keir moved restlessly and she slipped off his knee.
"Why didn’t you tell me about Connor at Darkhaven?"
She whirled to face him, filled with fury. "Get real! Did you expect me to tell you in that situation?"
"Had you told me about my son, I would have ended my engagement to Davina preventing this fiasco. Instead you chose to publicly rub her nose in my infidelity."
Anger spiked. How dare he turn this around so she was at fault? "You’re conveniently forgetting your avowal that nothing would prevent your marriage to Davina. Even your father was at pains to tell me you never broke a promise."
"Had I known about Connor that’s one promise I would have broken in a heartbeat."
Victoria stared at him, anger ebbing. How little he understood her.
"Do you think I didn’t know that? You expected me to live with the knowledge I’d asked you to break a promise?" She shook her head sadly. "It’s obvious that you don’t know me at all if you think me capable of acting so despicably."
*****
Victoria studied the photos splashed across the front page of The Clarion.
Connor cowering against Keir, her own strained expression enough for her to know it was time she put a stop to this persecution.
How? She nibbled on an already ragged thumbnail and then with a sigh of frustration looked at her hand.
She'd given up chewing her nails years ago. And the on-going stress had her reverting to the ugly habit.
Not even the press release announcing her upcoming marriage to Keir Donovan had made the press-hounds ease off.
She was fed up with being held prisoner and the open speculation about Keir’s suitability in the leadership of Donovans made her very uneasy. How could she stand back and let Keir suffer professionally from the fallout of this scandal?
She picked up the phone.
"Logan?" Victoria asked, when he answered her call.
"Tori how are you? We’ve all been so worried. How are things with Keir? How’s he treating you both?"
Victoria winced at the barrage of questions, but quickly suppressed a pang of guilt.
It wouldn’t hurt Logan or her father to worry.
They deserved it.
Both, in their own way, had precipitated this hideous situation. There had been plenty of other ways Logan could have engineered she meet with Keir, instead he'd thrown them both together in a situation guaranteed to cause mayhem.
And knowing what she now knew about Keir, Victoria knew he would have ensured that this situation had never arisen.
"We’re fine. I need you to do something for me," she said abruptly.
Logan sigh was clearly audible. "Will saying I'm sorry help?"
"Why didn't you come straight out and tell me? How could you do that to Keir, or to me?"
"Look I'm sorry. I know I handled it badly. Believe me, Dad's been on my case."
Victoria softened. Caine had been a rock. "I can imagine. I need your help Logan."
"After all the trouble I’ve heaped on you, I’ll do anything I can to help."
"Thanks. Now listen carefully." In quick succinct words, explained what she wanted him to do. "When you’ve set up a meeting text me on this number. And Logan whatever you do, don’t divulge that number to anyone, or leave a voicemail. Keir thinks a scanner has been set up nearby to intercept our calls." She heard footsteps in the corridor outside her door. "I have to go and please don’t mention this to Keir. Promise?"
"I don’t like this, Tori."
"I’ve got to go." She hung up just as the door opened and Connor came in. She smiled at him and he bounced across the floor and leapt into her arms.
"When’s Daddy coming home?"
She chuckled, amazed at how quickly Connor adapted to life where Keir played an important role.
"Soon." She nuzzled his neck blowing raspberries until he shrieked and wriggled away from her.
"I’m hungry."
"So what’s new? You’re always hungry." She tickled his ribs and when he ran away, she ran after him. "I’m hungry too. Grrrrrr—"
She made a grab at him, hands outstretched. Shrieking with terrified delight, Connor sidestepped and darted away.
Victoria chased after him.
Squealing, Connor ran toward the door. It opened and Keir stood there.
"Daddy! Daddy! Help. Save me from Mommy monster!"
As Connor leaped at him, Keir dropped his briefcase and caught the child in his arms.
Victoria cannoned into him and Keir caught her close with his other arm.
"Whoa there," he said on a chuckle. "Nice way to greet a man at the end of the day."
Plastered full length against his rock hard body, she suddenly found herself short of breath. Keir looked down at her, turbulent emotion shadowing his dark eyes.
Mesmerized, her eyes fastened on those mobile lips as he planted a quick kiss on Connor’s cheek and let him slide to the floor.
"Can you ask Mrs. T. to bring a tea tray in, son?" He ruffled a hand through the child’s hair but didn’t release his hold on Victoria.
As the little boy scampered off, Keir crushed her closer, lifted her chin and crushed her trembling lips beneath his. Her response was instantaneous.
Her lips parted and Keir plundered her mouth in a kiss that set her heart thundering.
Desire ricocheted through her, molten and intense. Trembling from head to toe, he pressed her as close as a second skin. Hunger, all-consuming had her burying her hands in his crisp sable hair, molding his scalp with sensitized fingertips.
This was what she’d missed.
The inchoate thought sent her almost over the edge. Keir splayed his hand across her back pressing her even closer to his hard male contours.
A slight sound had them pulling apart, but Keir didn’t release her immediately.
"Now that’s what I call a real welcome home," he whispered in her ear, the husky sound sending shivers of sensation up and down her spine.
Covered in confusion, she buried her face in his neck.
Mrs. Teague bustled in with the afternoon tea tray, Connor following in her wake carrying a plate of cupcakes, his little face screwed up as he concentrated on his task.
"Thanks Mrs. T," Keir murmured over the top of her head.
The kindly woman smiled at them as she left.
"She’s gone," he drawled wickedly. "You can come out of hiding now."
"Mrs. T let me carry the cakes, Mommy." Connor tugged at her skirt. "Did you see?"
She lifted her head, smiled at her boy then glanced up at Keir through her lashes. Gone was the dark brooding stranger replaced by a wicked, grinning devil, enjoying her confusion.
He released her, crossed to the tea tray and poured her a cup. She sat on the sofa unsure her legs would hold her.
"Thank you," she murmured, blushing as she met his slashing glance.
Keir poured himself a cup and walked across to the window before turning to face her. A frisson of nerves goose-stepped over her skin.
"Dad rang me this afternoon. The Cambridge Breeders Association is hosting a fund raising dinner tonight for the Riding for the Disabled."
"The RDA does fantastic work. I used to help them out as a teenager."
"All the more reason for us to support them now." He looked at her over the rim of his teacup. "The dinner is at the Cambridge Country Club. Dad is Patron of the Breeders Association and he suggested we join him and Muriel. Logan and Piper are also going and Dad thought a show of
family solidarity would help us weather this storm. Are you up for it?"
"That is so like your father," she said warmly. "Do you think it will work?"
"It can’t hurt any. We certainly can’t remain holed up here forever, hostages to the press."
Then she remembered the destruction of her wardrobe. Such a dinner would be a classy affair. "What on earth can I wear?"
Keir had anticipated her need. "I recalled you mentioning your gown was from An’Ville at Easter and contacted her. She has your details on file and has sent over several gowns in your size for you to choose from."
His thoughtfulness was heart-warming. "What about Connor?"
"I’ll ask Mrs. T to baby sit for us. Are you happy with that arrangement?"
"Of course, she’s a darling." The Canadian woman was warm and motherly, and Victoria liked her very much.
"She’s been with me a long time." Keir put his cup and saucer back on the tray and took hers as well then sat beside her on the sofa. "And she needed very little persuasion to accompany me back to New Zealand. She has no family."
"She's certainly taken to Conner and he adores her."
"It's a winner all around. Another detail we’ve overlooked." He took a ring box from his suit coat pocket. "I bought this for you."
He snapped open the box lid to reveal a beautiful ring, its golden stone set in an intricate chased gold setting.
He caught her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger then lifted her hand and held it beside her eyes. "I thought I remembered the color correctly."
"It’s beautiful." She twisted her hand and the sunlight made the stone come alive. The simple setting suited her small hand. "What’s the stone?"
"A one and a half carat fancy orange-yellow diamond, the exact color of your eyes," he said softly. "Do you like it?"
"I’d have to be very hard to please not to like it."
"But—"
Victoria knew he would catch her ambivalence. Did he consider he had to buy her affection and complaisance?
"I’m happy to have an engagement ring and a new gown," she said quietly. "I don’t need or expect expensive gifts."
"I know," he averred softly, a dangerous expression glittering in his brown eyes. "And that’s probably the reason I enjoy giving you some."
Victoria mulled over his words as she dressed for dinner. The gowns were stunning. All of them suited her and all very much to her taste. Had Keir personally chosen them or had An’Ville selected what she’d considered suitable?