"Why would he do that?" she asked, even as he started moving between tables across the room.
"That's the question. From the information we've gathered, I'm pretty sure Escalante is a major mover in a cartel that deals in controlled substances."
"You mean he's a drug lord?"
"Yes. And if he's hoping to use Danforth & Danforth to launder his dirty money, he's going to be disappointed."
They were already halfway across the room. The crowd had thinned considerably in the past hour, making it easier to move. Ian broke into a jog, and Katie picked up her skirt and ran to keep up with him.
"Why don't you tell them to go away?" she asked breathlessly as they rounded a table.
"We have. They won't."
She shivered at the stormy look in Ian's eyes. Impulsively she grasped his hand, trying to slow him down.
"Wait. Are they dangerous?"
He kept moving, dragging her along with him. "I don't know. But they don't belong here, and they're about to leave." He shook off her hand. "Stay here."
Katie swallowed as she watched him cross the last twenty feet in long strides. It wasn't that she thought Ian couldn't handle himself. And Abraham, the combat veteran of an earlier generation, was a man who wouldn't back down from any confrontation. But she couldn't let whatever might happen next attract the interest of the press. As much for Abraham's sake as for her own.
A reporter could twist an incident like this in the most obscene direction. Honest Abe II Parties with Drug Lords! His campaign was bound to suffer.
She looked around quickly and located a tall, serious looking man she was sure must be one of the security team employed for the function. Dressed in a rental tux to blend with the crowd, he didn't appear to have noticed the potential trouble. She'd made friends with her father's private guards as a child. During her teenage years, they'd sometimes looked the other way when she wanted to sneak out and visit a girlfriend.
Katie walked up to him and whispered a few words. Seconds later, he had communicated by radio with three other fellows with no discernible necks. They moved in quickly around the Danforths and the Colombians.
"Anything we can do, sir?" the senior of the squad asked casually.
Ian looked around, as if surprised then relieved. "My father was just suggesting these gentlemen might find the rest of the evening a little tame for their taste in entertainment."
The Colombians looked at Ian, then Abraham, then the guards. "We're supporting a good cause by being here," Escalante said, stubbing out his cigar. "The band is quite good. Our ladies like to dance." He winked at the two young women in sequined gowns who sat at their table.
"We're here to raise money for the unfortunate," Ian said coldly. "If you want to talk business, make arrangements with my office. My father is no longer actively involved in the company's operating decisions."
"Ah, too bad," Hernandez said, his eyes bright and black. He laughed. "They put you out to pasture, Grandpa?"
Abraham was about to respond angrily but Ian put his hand on his father's arm. "Don't, Dad."
Katie held her breath until the elder Danforth took a step back, though his face was a rigid mask of anger.
"Another meeting would accomplish nothing," Ian stated. "I've already told you, we won't be purchasing from you, Mr. Hernandez. Mr. Escalante knows my reasons."
"I'm disappointed to hear that," Hernandez said, standing beside Escalante. He was a short man, but his hands were massive, their backs ridged with muscle as if he'd used them hard all of his life.
Nevertheless, it was Escalante who struck Katie as the more dangerous of the two. His dark, glittering eyes never ceased moving, taking in the whole room, gauging every movement—close or far. And he never stopped smiling.
"Maybe, for reasons of their own, my good friend's competitors will drop out of the race. Then you will need to buy his coffee beans to stay in business," Escalante said. "You won't have a choice."
Katie held her breath. Abraham looked as if he was about to explode, but Ian stepped in front of his father. "If anyone withdraws their bid for our business, we'll know why," Ian warned, his eyes narrowed, the muscles along the sides of his neck taut. "There are laws against your kind of strong-arm tactics."
Katie laid a hand on his arm when he took a step toward the two men. The security guards took their cue and moved in closer.
For several heartbeats, the tension hung thick and prickly about them, and Katie literally held her breath. At last, the two Colombians stepped away from the table and signaled their dates to join them.
"We will be in touch," Escalante said, still smiling. Katie's heart raced painfully, and her skin crawled as she watched the foursome leave the room, escorted by two of the security guards. The muscles beneath the straps of her gown burned with strain, and she gave each shoulder a little roll to loosen them.
Abraham looked around the room, as if to reassure himself that the press hadn't witnessed any of what had just happened. Luckily, the photographers seemed to have left by then.
"You won't let them in, Ian," Abraham murmured as he watched them disappear through the ballroom doorway.
"No, sir. We have a legitimate reason for not dealing with them. Their product isn't up to our standards."
"Good. Stick to your guns." Abraham turned to Katie. "Thank you, my dear, for having the good sense to round up reinforcements." He smiled graciously. "It's always best to have the numbers on your side."
* * *
Ian opened the door for Katie and stepped back to let her inside her apartment. The Colombians' appearance at the gala had chilled the spirit of the festivities. He had left as soon as he sensed Abraham didn't need him anymore.
"You must be exhausted," he told Katie, handing back the keys to her.
She smiled at him over her shoulder and pirouetted across the modest living room, red georgette fluttering about her ankles. "Not at all. I'm still all charged up!"
He supposed she was pretending for his benefit. He felt utterly drained. "I'm sorry about that scene. It spoiled a good party."
"No, it didn't. I thought it was rather exciting, actu-al-ly." Her final word seemed to require a good deal of concentration to correctly complete it. The trajectory of her stroll across the living room swerved a few feet north of the couch. She turned, stepped to her left and plopped down on the middle cushion with a grin. "Great party!"
"You had way too much champagne in the last half hour before we left," he said, shutting the apartment door behind him. He wanted to make sure she'd be all right before he took his leave. "Can I make you some coffee?"
She lifted a delicate hand and waved it at him in polite refusal. "No need. By the by, you and your father make a killer team."
She was intentionally changing the subject, but he was intrigued and didn't call her on it. "How is that?" He'd never thought of himself as good enough for Abraham's team, whatever the job. Most of his childhood had been spent trying to prove himself to a man who was rarely around.
When Abraham handed over Danforth & Danforth Import Company to him, Ian had been genuinely surprised, even though it was traditional for the eldest son to take the reins when the father retired. Of course, this had happened all the sooner because of Abraham's political aspirations.
Katie made a pleased sound in her throat halfway between a sigh and a purr. "I tell you … the fire in both your eyes was enough to make any party crasher slink away." She tapped the cushion beside her on the couch. "Have a seat. You deserve a rest."
He focused on the right shoulder strap of her dress, which had slipped down her arm. Even when properly supported, the scooped bodice revealed an enticing décolleté. He wasn't sure that bringing himself closer to that part of her anatomy would be wise.
He sat anyway. And enjoyed the view.
"You know," she said, letting her head drop back and eyes drift closed, "you don't make a bad boss at all."
"Thank you." He wasn't absolutely sure she was drunk. Perhaps this was ju
st one of her playful moods. Either way, he felt caution was advisable. "You don't make a bad assistant."
"Liar." She laughed.
Ian smiled at her. "Well, you haven't had much time to practice. I expect you'll learn. One day you'll be a top-notch EA." He studied her for a moment. Her eyes were still shut, and she was smiling at something. "Or something far more challenging. Tell me about yourself, Katie."
"You have my résumé."
"I mean, who are you really? Tell me about your family and growing up in Arizona. I've never been there."
Her eyelids flickered open suddenly, and she stared at him, suddenly sober. "I had a family like anyone else. It was really a very boring childhood."
He slowly shook his head. "No. There's something different about you. Something polished and fine." He touched an auburn lock that had separated itself from the tumble of curls over her shoulders. "And mysterious."
Her laugh this time was forced. "That's ridiculous."
He leaned toward her. "So why did you turn your face away or duck into the ladies' room whenever a photographer came our way tonight? Why are you so worried about having your picture taken?"
"I've just always been sensitive about my appearance," she said defensively.
"I don't believe that for a minute. You look sensational, and you know it."
She stiffened and flashed her eyes at him. "Maybe you should leave now. I'm tired."
But he was just getting started. He'd hit a nerve, and he sensed that if he pushed just a little harder he'd discover what it was that made Katie O'Brien seem so special. And why she wanted to hide it.
"I'll leave, if you tell me three things I don't already know about you."
She rolled her eyes, groaned and dropped her head back against the couch cushions in an exaggerated posture of defeat. "You want to play guessing games? All right, you win." She viewed him slyly through a screen of long lashes. "But you have to follow the same rules. I tell you three secrets, and you tell me three things I haven't already discovered about you."
He wasn't sure he liked the second part of the bargain, but if it was the price he had to pay… "You first."
"Fine." She thought for a moment, and he got the clear sense that she was eliminating information she felt uncomfortable sharing. "I hate asparagus."
"Not personal enough," he objected. If she was going to play cat and mouse with him, he was damn well going to be one aggressive feline.
"I take asparagus very personally!" She huffed at him when he leveled an uncompromising gaze her way. "Oh, all right. My father was in construction … how's that?"
"I'm not sure that counts, since you already told me that. But I'll let it go this time," he said generously.
She grinned. "Thanks. Now you."
"The estate where I grew up, Crofthaven, has a ghost."
"No." She laughed. "I thought you were just kidding about that."
"Honest, it does. We've all seen her, one time or another."
"Her? You can tell it's a woman?"
"Absolutely."
"I'd love to meet her." She sat up straight, her eyes no longer the least bit sleepy looking. They shone with rich variegated greens he'd only seen one clear day when he'd been vacationing on the Adriatic Sea. He moved closer, intrigued by their brightness.
"My theory is," he began again slowly, "she only appears to people she feels might help her. Mostly family members."
"Help her do what?"
"We're not sure what she's asking us to do," he said.
"She talks?" Katie unconsciously did the trick he liked so well with the tip of her tongue along her upper lip, and it totally unsettled him.
He nodded but couldn't take his eyes off her mouth, which was so very expressive when she was concentrating. "She says something, although it's difficult to understand her. All I've ever gotten is something about needing to go home. And once, I thought I heard the word farther."
"Wow." She looked thoughtful. "That was a good one. Now I can't hold back." She took a deep breath. "Okay. My family lives in the desert. It's very beautiful. Not many people know that. They think of the desert as something dangerous and uncomfortable and ugly. But it isn't at all."
"Tell me what it's like." The urge to connect with her in a way other than words was irresistible. He rested his hand over hers, but she didn't seem to notice.
"After it rains, the cacti bloom. The flowers are the color of sunshine—orange, red, yellow and gold. It's as if they've been sleeping, soaking up all that brightness and waiting to give it back on the first rainy day."
Her words quickened as her voice grew more excited. "And there are caverns at the edge of town on the Native American reservation. They say they're enchanted, have mystical powers."
"No!" he said, mimicking her.
She laughed at him. "Really. That's where my parents fell in love. My dad's part Indian, so I guess I am, too." She met his eyes with pride.
"Go on," he said, sensing there was more.
"It's impossible to imagine the desert without ever having been there. The light in the morning is pure and brilliant, like reflections cast by a crystal. I can't explain it. Artists come from all over to paint there."
"Sounds amazing," he whispered, stroking her fingers as they rested in her lap.
"It is. I've never seen a ghost there, not even in the caverns. But you can feel the spirits of people long gone when you step inside the dark cool spaces of the caverns. You stand very still, close your eyes and they're there." She let her eyelids drift down as if to demonstrate.
God, she's beautiful, Ian thought.
Before he could draw a next breath, he found his lips touching hers. It happened. Just happened without his consciously leaning into her, although he must have. Her words so moved him, her simple sweetness compelled him.
Katie's eyes fluttered open as their kiss ended, and she looked at him but said nothing.
Quickly he sat back, making space between them. "Go on," he said. "Tell me more."
She looked at their hands, his larger one covering hers, then up at his eyes again, plaintively. "That's all. I don't think I can play this game anymore."
Perhaps she had revealed more to him than she'd intended. "Don't quit now," he begged her.
"But that was so personal. I don't talk about such things to anyone." She looked more amazed at herself than upset with him.
"All right," he said quickly. "I'll have to match the intimacy of your revelations, just to be fair."
He mentally weeded out facts he was sure she knew from perusing company files. He'd noticed she'd taken an interest in scanning material as she returned it to its proper drawer.
"I had a son." His heart shuddered at the realization of what had just passed through his lips. How had that come out? Why now … and to her?
She stared at him. "You were married?"
"A long time ago. I was too young, so was she."
"And the baby?"
He didn't answer. Couldn't even meet her inquiring expression. He felt her hand turn, fingertips lace between his and her palm settle with comforting warmth against his.
"It's all right, Ian. This is a silly game. We shouldn't have started it. If you don't want to—"
"No," he said. "I'm fine. It's been a long time, after all."
Katie moved closer to him on the couch, their hips touching. She brought her hand, holding his, more deeply into her lap, as if to cradle this small part of him. As if by tenderly soothing his fingers, palm, wrist, she could console the whole of him.
"So tell me about your son," she murmured.
The razorlike pain slashed through him. It was easier to forget. "He died."
"Oh, Ian, I'm so sorry."
And now he couldn't stop. The pain that never left spurred him on. "He was … never really born. It was a miscarriage at five months, but we knew he was a boy from the sonograms. He'd been growing, seemed healthy according to the doctor. Something just … went wrong."
"A son," she br
eathed.
"I would have felt the same had it been a girl," he rasped out in anguish.
"Of course," she whispered, stroking his hand that had tightened into a fist.
The terrible memories had tumbled around like coffee beans in a roaster all these years. He held in the pain, cherishing it, making it a selfish thing. At least the hurt was something to hold on to after his baby and his wife were gone. Pain was sometimes better than having nothing at all.
For the first time, though, he was sharing it.
Katie sat quietly, listening. When he paused, her silence encouraged him to let go of more.
"We were just out of college. My girlfriend was dedicated to her new career. Both of us were beginning to find our way in the adult world. The pregnancy was an accident. Neither of us had wanted it. But once it happened I saw no alternative but for us to marry and give the baby a proper home."
"She didn't agree?" Katie whispered.
"No. She was very upset. A baby didn't fit her plans at all. But I talked her into getting married and keeping the child. I promised I'd give her all the support she needed to continue her career. We'd hire a nanny, and I'd alter my own schedule as necessary to be with the baby when conflicts arose." He grimaced at the ache in his heart. The guilt never left. "I should never have pushed her to it, but she agreed."
"But you loved each other?" Katie asked.
Ian had to think about this. "At the time, I thought so. But I'm not sure now. Clearly there wasn't enough love to hold us together after the miscarriage. Lara hadn't wanted to start a family yet, but losing the baby was a heartbreaking experience for her. And I'd imagined myself a father. I'd made the emotional leap. When the baby died in her womb, I … I—" He had still wanted to be a father.
Katie squeezed his hand, and a healing radiance seemed to pass into him through their touching palms, soothing his shattered soul.
She snuggled closer to him, laid her cheek against his shoulder. "Maybe he wasn't ready to be born yet," she murmured.
Her comment puzzled him. "What?"
"Maybe," she said, "the little fellow needed to wait for the right mom." The innocence of her words touched him. "You were ready, Ian, but the woman carrying him was not."
The Boss Man's Fortune Page 5