by Shirley Wine
This sense of warm possessiveness stayed with her as they drove home. The security gates opened noiselessly as Keir pressed a switch on the dash. He drove through and the gates closed just as silently behind them. By the time the car reached the garage, its door was open and the Jaguar purred into its park like a large, contented cat.
Keir cut the headlights, but he made no move to alight and the garage door closed noiselessly, enclosing them in the dim intimacy of the car.
Suddenly, unaccountably nervous, Victoria moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue as Keir half turned in his seat to face her, tracing a finger down her cheek. Her heart beat out an unruly rhythm and heat surged through her.
‘Did you enjoy your evening?’ His voice dropped to a husky whisper.
‘Better than I expected to.’ Her breathing was shallow and uneven, her eyelids very heavy.
He curled a strong hand around her neck, turned her face upwards, and very slowly bent his head. Her lips stung from the heat of his breath as he hovered above her. Then his mouth covered hers with a firm, persuasive pressure and heat flooded her in a steady, relentless tide as she sank into him, boneless and pliant.
Keir was all taut muscle and sinew beneath his elegant clothes, an urban warrior. He lifted his head and in the dim light his face resembled honed granite as his intense gaze roved over her face.
His next kiss curled her toes.
He didn’t demand, he very simply took as he claimed and possessed until she had as little substance as gelatine.
Her hands crept up his chest and buried themselves in his hair, and then she was crushed against him. Her sensitised nipples were abraded by the layers of fabric between her and Keir. Resistance was not an option. She burned with the need to touch his skin, to run her hands over those firm muscles. Clothes became a serious impediment.
At last he lifted his head and laid an unsteady hand against her cheek, as affected by their kisses as she was.
‘We should take this upstairs,’ he said in a husky whisper. ‘I think we’ve progressed from making out in the front seat of a car.’
Victoria could only nod as speech was beyond her.
Very gently, he unclasped her hands and laid them in her lap, then he alighted from the car, walked to the passenger door and opened it for her. He extended a hand and without hesitation she laid hers in his.
Slowly, slowly peace seeped into her bones and the terrible tension she’d been holding within herself for what seemed like forever started to unwind. The genteel thud of the door barely penetrated the delicious haze shrouding her senses. Keir’s arm was strong and warm around her shoulders as he guided her toward the lift that accessed the upstairs.
When they reached the bedroom wing, he opened the door to the playroom where Mrs T was watching a film.
As soon as she saw them, she switched off the television and stood up.
‘Everything okay?’ Victoria asked.
‘Not a murmur out of him once his head hit the pillow,’ she assured them with a warm smile. ‘I’ll leave you now.’
Together Keir and Victoria looked in on Connor.
He was spread-eagled on the bed, one foot peeping from under the covers. She moved out from under Keir’s arm and gently drew the covers over the sleeping child.
As she looked up, she was surprised at a strange expression on Keir’s face. He stepped forward and lifted her chin with strong fingers. ‘Did I ever say thank you?’
‘What for?’
‘For Connor.’ He framed her face with both hands and looked into her eyes. ‘You carried him and nurtured him on your own. It can’t have been easy for you.’
Victoria coloured under his intense gaze.
‘If my father had had his way, Connor would have been adopted out at birth.’ She covered Keir’s hand with one of hers. ‘But no-one on this earth could make me give away our baby.’
‘Then I’m doubly thankful.’ He tilted her chin and sealed her lips with a kiss that plundered her soul.
Lips trapped beneath his, caught up in the sensual haze he created with so little effort, she was scarcely aware of moving until they were enclosed in her bedroom.
The moonlight, bright and cold, cascaded through the drapes, penetrating the sheer curtains.
In its ghostly light, Keir lifted his head. ‘Are you going to send me to my own bed tonight?’
It took a few moments to assimilate his words. She smiled, a small knowing movement curving her lips.
Not in this lifetime.
She looped her hand up around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers as she whispered, ‘Stay.’
Chapter Eighteen
The Turf Bar in The Wanderer’s Tavern was so dim after the brightness of the crisp, winter day that it took Victoria’s eyes a few moments to adjust. The bar was definitely down at heel, with scarred woodwork and walls yellowed from years of cigarette smoke. A couple of men in scuffed boots, dirty jeans and tweed jackets sat at the bar talking and drinking beer.
A garish cuckoo clock on the wall sang the hour, its tone decidedly off-key.
Wearing an ancient tweed coat, a muffler wound around her neck that covered the lower part of her face, baggy, paint-stained pants and a tweed cap with the bill pulled down over her eyes, she merged with the other patrons.
She’d purloined the clothes from the gardener’s storeroom and had slipped away from Dunstan with Albee Gates. The gardener had agreed, but insisted he would only do so if she agreed to him parking and waiting outside the tavern for her. When Albee drove his battered ute through the gates the media pack paid no attention to the scruffy pair.
Inside the tavern, Victoria recognised Dan Smales instantly although it had been more than a decade since they’d last met. Still on a euphoric high after an incredible night, she slid into the booth opposite him.
‘Well missy, this is an unexpected pleasure. Long time, no see,’ he said as he picked up a tankard of beer. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’ve come to ask you to return a favour,’ she said, suddenly wary and more than a little nervous.
‘I guessed as much.’ He watched her with rheumy grey eyes. ‘You want the dirt to shut down the Strathmore machine?’
The rough words made her squirm. His summation made her feel decidedly grubby. ‘I need to stop the harassment.’
‘You shoulda thought of that before you let the Strathmore gal find you in his bed.’
Victoria cursed the heat surging up her neck and clenched her hands in her lap. ‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing.’
Dan picked a straw off his jacket and chewed on it, grinning at her discomfort. ‘Was it worth it?’
Victoria shrugged and looked away, not prepared to answer, but to her chagrin she found it wasn’t easy to dismiss the intrusive question.
Was it worth it?
Connor’s face swam before her eyes. ‘I’d deal with the devil himself to protect my son.’
A gleam lightened Dan’s rheumy eyes. ‘Tell me, did yer dad know Donovan was yer kid’s pa?’
The seemingly innocuous question made her suspicious. ‘It seems he did. Why?’
‘Just curious.’
In a pig’s eye!
Every instinct shrieked in warning, but she thought it prudent to let his comment slide. ‘I need to shut this scandal down before it costs Keir his position at Donovans.’
‘Did he put you up to this?’
‘Can you imagine him whining to anyone?’
Dan chuckled and the jeering sound was enough to make her squirm.
‘So you’re looking for something to shut down the scandal? How dirty do you need to get?’
‘Whatever it takes. I want my life back.’ Her mouth tightened on the words. She didn’t like stooping to underhand tactics, but as her father often said, sometimes, girlie, the only way to fight fire is with fire.
‘That’s not possible. You’ll always be news. Get used to it.’
The blunt words were an echo of Keir’s warning,
and Victoria was suddenly hyperaware of her vulnerability. ‘I need to go.’
‘Meet me here same time next week? How are you getting back?’
‘Same way I came.’ She slid from the seat, the memory of Logan’s words making her uneasy. Take care, he’s shady. ‘My ride is waiting.’
She slipped from the booth, glad to escape the bar and Dan Smales, and to her relief, Albee Gates, Keir’s gardener, was parked outside the bar in his dusty ute, just as he’d promised.
When she’d arranged this assignation, Albee had insisted that he would wait for her and unless she agreed, he point-blank refused to take her with him. Not until they were safely back inside the gates of Dunstan with a load of stable straw and garden fertiliser in the back of the ute did Victoria breathe easily.
When she went indoors Mrs Teague met her, scolding, ‘Mr Keir would have both our heads on a platter if he knew we’d let you sneak out of here.’
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,’ Victoria quipped as she hung the borrowed gear in the mudroom.
‘It’s too risky, child.’ The kindly woman fluttered around her, clearly agitated.
Her motherly fussing warmed a cold place in Victoria’s heart. Until this woman had come into her life, she hadn’t realised how much she still missed her mother. Impulsively she leaned up and kissed Mrs Teague on the cheek. ‘Thank you for caring.’
‘Get along with you, child,’ she chided, blushing. ‘I hear young Connor calling.’
As Victoria went off to find her son, her heart was light.
She’d taken steps to stop Davina and her father.
And last night Keir had chosen to bridge the awful yawning chasm between them. It was a start, and if she was careful, the intimacy she craved would grow from here. Soon, she hoped with fervent wistfulness, everything would be right with her world.
Victoria’s jubilation at the wealth of information Dan Smales amassed on Davina Strathmore was short-lived. She stared at the photos, sick to her stomach.
Talk about holding the proverbial hot potato.
She wanted to shut down the Strathmore scandal machine—but never like this. How could she have imagined Dan would uncover something so horrifying?
That marriage is seriously on the rocks. Keir’s observation was far more accurate than even he could imagine.
Victoria glanced at Dan, but his weather-beaten face and deep-set eyes were expressionless. His skill in worming out other people’s deep, dark secrets left her ice-cold.
That Davina was a lesbian didn’t really surprise Victoria.
She could clearly recall the blonde’s expression when confronted by Keir’s blatant masculinity. It was the identity of her long-time partner that floored Victoria, and yet it made a sickening kind of sense.
‘You’re certain about this?’
‘Photos don’t lie, unless you want them to, but these are gospel truth.’
Gospel truth. Victoria smothered a hysterical laugh. If Dan Smales knew anything about the Gospel, she was a Chinaman. ‘How long has this—this affair for want of a better word—been going on?’
‘Several years.’
‘And no-one suspects?’
Dan shrugged and something in his expression made her unease escalate. It was too late to regret approaching him. ‘These women are wealthy and money makes it easier to conceal secrets.’
Victoria shook her head as her stomach roiled and twisted in knots. ‘But Muriel—’
She broke off, unable to continue.
If this information leaked out it would destroy so many people.
Logan. Piper. Caine. Connor. Keir and, God help her, even herself. No-one in their inner family circle would escape.
Davina’s role in all this made sense. She was using Victoria and Keir to create a smokescreen and divert attention from her own secrets.
‘What do you intend to do with them?’
‘God knows.’ Victoria looked at Dan, torn. ‘Can I have these?’
Dan’s stillness suddenly took on an aura of menace. ‘Not quite so fast, Victoria. There’s a little matter of payment.’
‘Payment?’ Dear God, what was he suggesting? Her hands curled into fists in her lap.
Without haste, Dan gathered the photos and slid them back into a folder before he looked at her. A shiver inched down her spine as she met Dan’s eyes and glimpsed pure evil.
‘I don’t do this sort of dangerous work for love.’
She stared at him, mesmerised as he tapped the folder significantly.
‘When I have ten thousand dollars in cash, you can have these, and,’ he paused as he looked directly at her, ‘unless I’m paid within a week, these go to Strathmore’s competition.’
‘That’s blackmail. I don’t have that kind of money.’
‘No? Ten thou is chump change to your man.’
Victoria’s mouth went dry. ‘I can’t ask Keir.’
‘Your choice. But for you, it’s a concession, in appreciation of your help all those years ago.’ He slid out of the booth and gave her a sly grin. ‘And now I can admit to being guilty then, too.’
Victoria’s mouth gaped as she stared after Dan Smales.
Guilty … and I testified on his behalf?
Years ago as a teenager she’d earned extra money working as a strapper for her father’s racehorses at race meetings. After one of her dad’s horses won at Pukekohe, Dan was accused of doping when the winning colt returned a positive drug test.
As the stable attendant, Victoria swore on oath that Dan had never been near the horses while she was attending them. But at the time, she’d neglected to point out to the stewards that there was no relief strapper while she took a toilet break, and her father had relieved her.
She’d trusted her father’s word. Now, unless she’d misunderstood, Dan had indicated that her father had colluded with him over that incident.
God, how could I be such a naive little fool?
When a strange man slid into the booth opposite, Victoria was jerked out of her stasis. She hurriedly left the bar and walked back to Albee and the ute, sick with guilt and apprehension.
Where can I get ten thousand dollars?
‘Are you okay, missus?’ Albee asked with gruff kindness after they were on the way home.
She looked at him, her lips trembling. ‘I should have listened to you and Mrs Teague. What am I going to do?’
Albee laid a work-roughened hand on her thigh. ‘Talk to Keir, missus. He might huff and puff, but he dotes on you and young Connor. He’ll help put right whatever you’ve discovered. He’s a good man.’
How could she tell this kindly man that he was mistaken, that far from doting on her, Keir remained suspicious of her and her motives? Just as she was gaining his trust, she either had to ask him for money, or see his family plunged even deeper into scandal.
How can I ask him for ten thousand dollars?
She couldn’t do it, but unless she found that money, Dan Smales threatened to destroy the entire Donovan family.
Victoria discovered what it meant to be between a rock and a very hard place.
Chapter Nineteen
For twenty-four hellish hours Victoria stewed over Dan’s ultimatum. Finally, after a sleepless night, she decided she had little alternative but to trust Albee’s judgement.
She had to ask Keir for the money.
Who else could she turn to? Asking Logan, Caine or her father was out of the question. She tried to imagine every scenario and rehearsed countless opening gambits, but none struck the right chord.
Hiding under a blanket in the ute, Victoria was again helped by Albee to avoid the media pack at the gate. Victoria knew she was courting Keir’s wrath, but there was no way she wanted a bodyguard.
So far, no-one had paid her the slightest heed.
Her first surprise was when Albee drove past the high-rise that housed the Donovans offices. There was no press contingent camped on the pavement outside the central Hamilton building. Keir had never mention
ed that the press had stopped hounding him at work.
Albee clamped a hand on her arm. ‘You’ll be fine.’
I wish I had your confidence!
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, turning to the old man and giving him a hug.
‘Will you be okay now?’
‘Sure, there’s no-one hanging around the offices.’
‘How will you get home?’
‘With Keir.’
He will either bring me home or we’ll be finished.
That thought made the butterflies clumping around in her stomach don hobnail boots.
‘You sure?’
She wasn’t sure about anything, but seeing Albee’s worried frown she summoned a smile and alighted from the ute. She waited a moment until it merged with the traffic before she turned to brave Keir in his office. In the lobby, her nerve almost failed.
I can’t do this.
While she was hovering on the brink of flight, the doors from the street opened and Keir strode into the lobby, halting abruptly when he saw her. ‘Victoria! What are you doing here? Where’s Connor?’
‘At home with Mrs Teague. I needed to see you.’
‘Where’s Holly?’
She grimaced, knowing he wasn’t going to like this. ‘I gave her the slip.’
A heavy frown darkened his face, but he didn’t scold, instead he just gave an expressive shrug. ‘How did you escape the mob at the gate?’
‘Albee helped me.’ She gave him a steady look but refused to prevaricate. ‘They took no notice of the gardener in the old ute.’
Keir’s smile was wicked. ‘Clever! Come upstairs.’
He put a hand on her arm, the warm pressure infinitely comforting as he escorted her into the lift. Would the comfort remain when he knew why she was here?
‘The press doesn’t bother you here?’
He pressed the buttons before he answered. ‘They did at first, but the police moved them on. They eventually do move on to more satisfying prey.’
How she wished she’d heeded Keir’s advice not to venture away from Dunstan. Had she not ventured out, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now. But there was no way of shoving these worms back inside the can she’d prised open.