by BETH KERY
“Really?” Deidre asked, taken aback.
“Not in looks, but in manner. She’s a sharp, classy lady. I can see why Linc was so taken with her for all those years. You haven’t really had the opportunity to let me have it for asking her to go up in the plane with us, by the way,” he added. Deidre could perfectly picture the half amused, half wary tilt of his mouth.
“You’re lucky. The outing went so well, I lost the urge.”
“Really?”
She sighed and lay on her back on the couch. “Really,” she said, hearing all of the doubt, hurt and hope she felt in regard to her mother infused into the one word.
A pregnant pause ensued. Even though neither of them spoke, Deidre felt strangely connected to Nick in that moment, despite the thousands of miles that separated them. She had a sudden, vivid image of him sitting in a chair with his back to a desk and facing a floor-to-ceiling window. His tie was loosened and his hair had fallen onto his forehead. She doubted it was anything but her imagination, but her heart throbbed in her breast as if she’d truly seen him.
“Life sure can be crazy at times,” he murmured, his voice sounding so close he might have been right next to her.
“Yeah...but it can be nice, too,” she replied quietly.
“Deidre...”
“Hmm?”
“Maybe I liked your mother because she looked so much like you.”
She smiled. She had the distinct impression that wasn’t what he’d planned to say just seconds before. “I think it’s the other way around. I look like her.”
“Either way, my point is the same.”
She chuckled and turned on her side, drawing up her knees. She felt lulled and content, lying there and listening to the sound of Nick’s low, gruff voice in her ear.
“Where are you at?” she asked.
“At the San Francisco office. I thought I’d get a little work done while I was here. I miss you.”
Deidre blinked in amazement at the unexpected declaration. “I miss you, too.”
She heard a rustle and the sound of his chair squeaking. “I better go. I’ll be back in Harbor Town the day after tomorrow.”
“Okay. Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Sleep well,” she said feelingly.
There was a stretched pause. “You, too.”
* * *
Nick hit the disconnect button on his phone and set it on the desk.
“I didn’t hear you knock,” he said, leveling a stare at John Kellerman, DuBois Enterprises’s chief legal officer. He stood several feet in front of Nick’s desk. John was a formidable figure with iron-gray hair and an unparalleled knowledge of corporate law.
“I just came in to have a word with you. I knocked but you were obviously too wrapped up in your conversation to notice.”
Nick didn’t reply. He sincerely doubted John had knocked. He’d overheard Nick talking to Deidre. Nick waited patiently in order to see the direction of John’s attack. John suddenly smiled and shook his head.
“There must be some explanation. I know you too well to think this anything other than brilliant maneuvering. You know precisely what you’re doing, I suppose, sleeping with the enemy?” he asked with a bark of mirthless laughter, waving at Nick’s cell phone. “Not that I’m arguing with your choice—she’s a tasty one, there’s never been any argument in that direction.”
“Shut up, John.”
John flinched back at his quiet words.
“You’re playing too close to the flame, Nick. I understand getting closer to Deidre Kavanaugh will only help you to manipulate this nightmare of a situation with Lincoln’s will, but be careful of getting burned. We only have to look at Lincoln as evidence for the fact that Deidre has the power to thoroughly befuddle a man.”
“Speaking of someone flying dangerously close to the flame,” Nick said, his voice cold.
John’s expression flattened at Nick’s obvious warning that he was treading too close to personal territory. “I see,” he said stiffly. “You’re telling me that you can handle this on your own. I suppose you’re right. I have every reason to trust your opinion on how to get things done. You’ve never failed DuBois Enterprises before.”
Nick watched silently as John sat down in the one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.
“At least I can say one thing for you, Nick—you’re willing to go to any extreme to make sure our interests are protected. I think it’s time we start to firm up our plan of action if we should receive the news from GenLabs that Deidre Kavanaugh is, indeed, Lincoln DuBois’s biological child, don’t you?” John asked.
* * *
The next morning, Deidre did some shopping and unloaded the groceries at Cedar Cottage, watered the plants at Liam and Natalie’s house and met Colleen for lunch. Afterward, she went over to the Harbor Town Public Library and found some references on DuBois Enterprises infrastructure and product lines. She read for three and a half hours straight before her back started to ache. She returned the material to the librarian, amazed to realize she’d barely scratched the surface in regard to learning about the company.
By the time she returned home, the sun was dipping into a frigid-looking Lake Michigan and Cedar Cottage was draped in shadow. Her fingers felt chilled once she’d removed her coat. Without turning on any lights, she went into the living room and turned on the gas fireplace, warming her hands. She went completely still when she heard a door squeak down the hallway.
Someone is in the house.
She spun around in alarm, only to see a tall shadow enter the living room. For a few seconds, she just stared, sure she must be dreaming.
“Deidre?”
“Nick?” she managed in a thin, amazed whisper.
He came closer, the light from the flames making his familiar features resolve out of shadow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just got here before you did. I was just checking to make sure you weren’t around. Your car wasn’t here, but the front door was unlocked.”
“It was?” she whispered. She’d inserted her key and twisted when she’d entered just now, not noticing the lock hadn’t been fastened. Nick stepped closer. She stood transfixed, studying every nuance of his face as if she hadn’t seen him in years. His expression was sober and tense. “I must have left it unlocked when I brought the groceries home earlier. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, stepping toward her.
“What?” she asked in confusion and rising alarm, only recognizing the telltale heat in his eyes after he grasped her shoulders and drew her against him. “Nick—”
He silenced her with his mouth.
He kissed her, a little rough...a lot sweet.
His taste had a drugging effect on her senses. His hands moved over her shoulders and down her sides, cupping her breasts in his palms before he wrapped his hands gently around her ribs, rubbing her back muscles with his fingertips. He leaned over her, deepening their already voracious kiss. His grasp lowered onto her hips, where he massaged her flesh hungrily. Deidre had the strangest impression he was detailing the sensation of her just like she’d been hungrily searching his features just moments ago, wondrous at his presence.
She pressed tighter against him, seeking his male heat. He groaned in sudden dissatisfaction and lifted her so that their mouths, bellies and groins sealed tight. Deidre wrapped her legs around his hips. He rocked her against him, her softness against his hardness.
She groaned roughly at the same moment desire clenched tight at her core.
The next thing she knew, she was falling against the couch cushions. Nick came down over her, straddling her hips. She watched his rigid features cast in firelight as he rapidly unfastened her blouse and opened it. He stroked along the sides of her waist and ribs. She once
again had the impression it wasn’t a casual touch, but that he was absorbing the very sensation of her. Her eyes moistened and she blinked, wanting to see him clearly in that electrical moment. He slid his fingers beneath the front clasp of her bra and gave his wrist a flick. He peeled the cups off her skin.
A stab of thwarted desire went through her when instead of touching her breasts, he began to unfasten her jeans with quick, nimble fingers. His gaze remained fixed where she wanted him to caress, however, making her nipples tighten. He drew her jeans and panties off her, then unfastened and lowered his own pants.
His eyelids squeezed tight and his nostrils flared when he was fully sheathed inside her. Deidre felt so full of him in that moment; she was inundated...possessed. She murmured his name between pants for air and he opened his eyes. They seemed to glow silver in the firelight as he stared down at her.
“Another emergency came up,” he said.
“What?”
“I had to see you. At all costs,” he grated out between a clenched jaw. He withdrew and sunk back into her. Deidre gasped and furrowed her fingers into his hair. It was hard to form words with him pulsing high and hard inside of her.
She drew him down toward her mouth and managed in a whisper, “I’m so glad you did.”
* * *
A while later, Nick lay with his weight partially on Deidre and partially on the couch. Both of them gasped for air, their muscles limp in the aftermath of a lightning strike of passion and need.
“What’s so funny?” Nick wondered, lifting his head to see her face when he heard her soft laughter.
“You’re still wearing your coat,” Deidre said.
He gave a grunt of amusement and shucked off the coat, tossing it over the back of the couch. He let his forehead drop to the cushion again. “You just now noticed?”
She nuzzled his chin and he turned toward her, their lips a mere inch apart. “I didn’t see anything but you.”
He didn’t say anything, but she saw his eyes glint in the firelight. His mouth settled on hers, and there was more than just the residue of passion in his kiss.
“Welcome back to Harbor Town,” she murmured a moment later, brushing her lips against his as she spoke.
“With a welcome like that, I might never leave.”
“With a hello like that, I might never let you,” she assured, before she pressed her lips against his small grin.
Deidre was still smiling an hour later when she heard the shower shut off in the bathroom. She started the sauce for the beef filets she’d already prepared. By the time Nick walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, she was pouring it over the beef.
“What’s this?” Nick asked.
She glanced back and did a double take. He looked extremely good. His hair was still damp. He wore jeans and the dark blue cotton tee he’d had on beneath his button-down shirt. The short sleeves highlighted his strong-looking forearms and muscular biceps. She caught a subtle whiff of his shower-clean skin and had an urge to bury her nose in it. He was staring at the table she’d set for two.
“It’s dinner, what do you think?” she said, laughing as she set down their plates. She lit the two candles she’d placed on the table.
He was there when she turned around. He leaned down and kissed her. Deidre closed her hands around the dense muscle of his upper arms and savored the scent and texture of him.
“Thanks. It smells great. I didn’t know you could cook,” Nick said as they both sat. “What other secrets are you keeping?”
“You should taste it before you draw any conclusions,” she said, stabbing her fork into an apple-and-walnut spinach salad. “I like to cook, but didn’t get much of an opportunity while I was in the army. I haven’t tried this peppercorn filet recipe in ages, so eat it at your own risk.”
Nick took a bite of his filet. “It’s fantastic,” he muttered after a moment. “Apparently the army hasn’t dulled your cooking instincts.”
“I’m just glad eating army food hasn’t completely killed my taste buds,” Deidre said, watching him with a smile as he ate another bite of beef with flattering haste.
When they’d finished and were sipping their decaf, Nick suddenly stood and walked over to where his coat was hung on the coat tree. He withdrew what looked like a black velvet pouch from his coat pocket.
He sat down again and placed the large pouch on the table. “This is for you. I stopped at The Pines on my way back to Harbor Town and picked it up.”
“What is it?” Deidre asked, eyeing the pouch.
“It’s something Linc asked me to give you in his letter,” Nick replied gruffly. She met his stare. He frowned. “I’m sorry for not giving it to you until now.”
Deidre loosened the drawstring on the bag. She reached inside and withdrew a smaller pouch.
“I took everything out of their storage boxes and put them in these bags for easier transport,” Nick explained as she poked her fingers into the small pouch.
Deidre gasped.
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, gaping wide-eyed at an exquisite diamond and sapphire pavé ring. Something occurred to her and she twitched her hand beneath the larger velvet bag, feeling numerous hard items within. The pouch was filled with jewelry.
“I can’t accept any of this,” she said, stunned.
Nick grasped her wrist when she went to set the pouch and ring on the table.
“Yes, you can. Linc left it to you as a separate request in the letter. This jewelry used to belong to Lily DuBois. These were her finest pieces. There were several other pieces that were left to the entire estate, but Linc handpicked these items for you to have exclusively. They were locked in a safe at The Pines.”
Deidre stared at him in amazement. He released her wrist. After a pause, she once again picked up the bag. She set all of the smaller pouches in her lap and smoothed the larger velvet bag onto the table. Nick said nothing, just watched, as she withdrew all of the separate pieces. By the time she’d finished, a breathtaking display lay on the black velvet—a sapphire and diamond set, including necklace, earrings and ring; a stunning pair of diamond earrings and matching wreath necklace; a pair of sunflower earrings that included large center diamond studs and a matching necklace with row after row of large, sparkling diamonds; a ruby, diamond and platinum set that included a flower motif with the ruby as the center and diamonds forming the petals and leaves; and, lastly, a diamond and platinum brooch of a horse in midstride. The artistry of the items was unlike anything Deidre had ever laid eyes on—exquisite in detail, unapologetically lush but delicate at once, luxurious without being ostentatious. Deidre ran her fingers over the running horse in wonder.
“George had that brooch made for Lily when Gallant Hunter, one of their horses, was inducted into the National Museum of Racing’s Hall of Fame.”
She glanced up at Nick mutely.
“I apologize again for not bringing them when I first came to Harbor Town,” he said quietly.
“I understand why you didn’t,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have brought them now. Maybe after we hear about the genetic testing, but—”
“They’re yours, whatever happens,” Nick said gruffly. “It’s one of the few specific bequests Linc made. I’ve thought about it, and he would want you to have these things no matter what the outcome of the testing. I’m convinced of that.”
She shook her head, overwhelmed by emotion, and began to put away the priceless jewelry. “Take it,” she entreated when she’d replaced all the items in the bag.
“They’re yours, Deidre.”
She swallowed with difficulty, but it didn’t work. She felt choked with emotion. “I don’t know what’s mine and what’s not anymore.”
He assessed her soberly. “What do you mean by that?”
She shook her head and stared out the window
blankly. She was having difficulty meeting his eyes for some reason. Was it guilt?
“I’m not so sure anymore that I deserve anything from Lincoln. He didn’t even know me, not really. It was you he knew and loved for a lifetime.”
“There’s no official timetable on love. Lincoln believed you were his.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Do you believe that, Nick?”
He inhaled slowly. Was he striving for caution in his answer? Deidre wondered. “Belief isn’t as important to me as it is to you in these circumstances. I know that Lincoln believed.”
“I wish I knew what to believe,” she said, giving Nick a desperate glance. “I’m so happy Lincoln had faith that I was his child. I want so much to be Lincoln’s biological daughter. But every time I imagine it being true, I feel so sad and mad because he’s gone. Derry’s gone. I’m right back where I started, without a father.”
“I’m not so sure about that. You have a mother, Deidre.”
She met his stare, remorse spiking through her. “You must think I sound so ungrateful.”
“No, I don’t think that.” He frowned and sat back in his chair. Deidre had the distinct impression he was torn about whether to go on about the subject.
“What is it, Nick?” Deidre asked. “Do you think I’ve been too hard on my mother?”
“I understand you’re mad about being kept in the dark all these years, missing out on a relationship with Lincoln. But your mom lost her husband and she lost her best friend. She lost you for a good portion of her life and probably fears she’ll never get you back. I can’t help but feeling bad for her.” He shook his head and gave a sheepish wave. “I know—it’s none of my business.”
“I don’t think that it’s none of your business. I’m just confused as to why you care one way or another,” she said. “You’ve been urging Mom and me to resolve our differences. Why?”
For a few seconds he didn’t reply. “I guess I just worry about you.”
“Me? You want to make sure I have a mommy to look out for me? I’ve been taking care of myself for a long, long time, Nick,” she said, chuckling.