"We'll talk later, when we can be alone," Jackson promised.
"Do you have proof that you're my -- my father?" she asked haltingly.
"Would I come to you if I wasn't?"
"You would," Zach answered for Jackson, looking straight at him. "But maybe to ease everyone's mind, you'd submit to a blood test."
Jackson's eyes glittered with dislike. "I don't need a blood test to prove I'm her kin. I have information only a father would have."
"Then spill it."
"Always so impatient, Zachary. Why don't you both sit down?"
"No. This dinner is over. You didn't know her mother. And you certainly aren't going to know her." Zach squeezed Katherine's hand, as if to reassure her that he would never let that happen.
Jackson's eyes narrowed as he took in the two of them. "I should have realized. You're sweet on her. Well, no matter. The truth will come out."
"You wouldn't know the truth if it hit you."
Zach stalked out of the restaurant, dragging Katherine behind him, ignoring their waiter's startled look and the murmurs following their exit. He didn't stop moving until they reached the parking lot, until the night air cooled the raging anger in his body. "Goddamn him," he swore as he let go of her hand to hit the side of his truck. "Why the hell can't he leave me alone?"
She looked at Zach's hard face, his dark eyes, and saw a fleeting shimmer of pain covered by anger and hate and weary disillusionment. She wondered if this man had ever been a boy, if he'd ever looked at an apple without searching for the worm. She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see that Jackson hadn't followed them out to the parking lot.
"I can't believe he has the nerve to show his face around here, much less claim to be your father," Zach said. "Since he won't take a blood test, it's obvious he's lying."
"But he must have known I'd ask for proof.”
"He must have something else," Zach murmured.
"Like what?"
"Something on your mother, maybe. He seems to know a lot more about you than I do."
"Maybe I should go back and talk to him," Katherine said, even though it was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do.
"No, it's better not to talk to my father unless you're armed with more information than he is, and at the moment, he's got the upper hand."
"He wouldn't have the upper hand if you'd thought to warn me," she couldn't help pointing out.
Zach tipped his head. "You're right. I thought about calling you, but then I wanted to do it in person, explain, but I didn't get the chance."
"You had the chance. You didn't take it. He has something on you," she said, as sure of that as she was of anything.
"He makes it his business to know where someone might be the most vulnerable."
"You're not someone. You're his son."
"That doesn't mean anything. I did warn you though, Kat. I told you what might happen if you started turning over rocks.”
"So I got what I deserved."
"Well, maybe not what you deserved. Nobody deserves Jackson."
"Do you think your father knew my mother?"
"We were in and out of this town a lot when I was a little kid. My father even worked now and then at some of the farms. As soon as he got a little cash, we hit the road to find a new game." He ran a hand through his hair, looked at the restaurant, then back to her. "I need some time to think, but in the meantime, are you hungry? Rico's Pizza is nearby. What do you say?"
"I say extra large with pineapple and ham. I'm starving."
His tense face eased into a reluctant smile. "This is Kentucky, darlin', no pineapples within a hundred miles." He opened the door to his truck. "But I think we can find something you like."
She adjusted her seat belt as Zach climbed into the truck, then locked the door.
Zach sent her an amused look. "You can lock that door, Kat, but I've got news for you. Looking the way you do tonight, smelling the way you smell, you're in far more danger from me than anyone on the street."
She caught her breath at the shimmer of desire in his eyes. "I -- I don't know what to say."
"Well, that's a first," he said as he gunned the engine.
* * *
Rico's was small, with green and white-checkered tablecloths, dimly lit lamps, and a jukebox playing in the corner. It was a warm, friendly restaurant, and Katherine felt immediately more relaxed.
Zach led her over to a corner booth. "I'll order the pizza," he said as she sat down. "What do you like?"
"Oh, just get whatever you want. I'll eat anything."
"Fine."
"Except anchovies," she said hastily.
"Got it." He turned to leave.
"And olives. I'm not big on black olives. Maybe no green peppers either."
He flung her an amused glance. "Anything else?"
"Okay, I'm a little pickier than I said," she admitted.
"I've never had a problem with a woman who knows what she wants," he said, a sparkle in his eyes.
She let out a breath as he headed toward the counter. She might not be a risk taker when it came to food, but she'd gotten herself all the way to Kentucky and was having dinner with the sexiest man on the face of the planet. Not bad for a woman who'd been playing it safe for far too long.
Zach returned a few minutes later with a pitcher of beer and two glasses. "If you don't like beer, I can get you something else."
"Beer is fine.”
He slid into the booth, edging over until his thigh touched her leg. "Now, this is nice," he said, his voice low and husky. "Very nice."
She cleared her throat. "What's in the back room?"
"A pool table."
"Do you play?"
"Yes."
"Would you play with me?"
He gave her another slow, sexy grin. "Honey, there are things I'd like to play with you, but pool isn't one of them."
"Well, pool is your only option," she said, sliding out of the booth before she melted into a big puddle of desire at Zach Tyler's feet. When he put his mind to charming a woman, he was almost irresistible.
Zach followed her into the back room. Several kids were playing the arcade games, but the pool table was empty.
"Looks like we've got it all to ourselves," she said. "So how do we start?"
"We rack 'em up," Zach said. "Then you break by hitting the white ball with your cue. You want to sink all the balls, saving the black one for last.”
She picked up a cue. "I use this, right?”
Zach came up behind her, his hard body against her back making it difficult to concentrate. He put his hands over her hands, showing her how to hold the stick, how to tap the ball.
"I think I can do it," she said. "Why don't we make a bet?"
He grinned. "Why don't we see if you can hit one ball into the pocket?"
"But it would be more fun with a bet. If you win, I'll give you a really good kiss.”
"Keep talking."
"And if I win, you'll teach me how to ride a horse."
His laugh was more of a snort. "Yeah, right. Sure, why not? You're never going to beat me.”
"Is it a bet?"
"Pucker up, sweetheart."
She pushed him away from her. "Give me a little room, okay?"
"Fine." He racked up the balls, then stepped back. "Now, don't forget you're hitting the white ball."
"I won't forget."
She ran her fingers down the smooth wooden cue, the familiarity renewing her confidence. She couldn't wait to wipe that cocky, know-it-all expression off Zach Tyler's face. She set the cue on the table and with quiet deliberation took her first shot, scattering the balls across the table. She considered her options and set up one shot after another, dropping the balls into the slots with the efficiency of a deadly hit man.
She never once looked at Zach, but she could sense when his smile started to fade, when the air grew tense, when his sudden throat clearing contained a hint of nervousness. She'd never played such a clean game. And when
she was done she stood back and admired her handiwork. Then she glanced over at Zach.
He wasn't smiling. "You hustled me."
"You deserved it."
"I haven't been taken in a very long time."
"When you look at me, you see what you want to see, but you don't see me." She walked over to him, stopping just a breath away. "Too bad you lost. If you hadn't, I might be kissing you right now."
He struggled with a smile. "You're a piece of work, Katherine Whitfield."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Where did you learn to play pool?"
"My stepfather had a pool table. Billiards was his favorite game. And I was, as always, the stepdaughter who was eager to please."
"Billiards." Zach nodded, his expression filled with self-disgust. "I should have figured."
"So when are you going to teach me to ride?"
"I don't know.”
"A bet's a bet."
"Hey, Zach," a man said from the doorway. "Pizza's ready. I put it on your table."
"You're not going to get out of it," Katherine said, following him back to their table.
"I never renege on a bet, but it may have to wait a while. Come on, let's eat."
They ate quietly for the next few minutes, listening to the music, enjoying the soft murmur of conversation. Katherine hadn't felt so comfortable in a long time. She hated to break the accord that had grown between them, but there were things she needed to know about Zach's father so she could be prepared. "Zach, I need to know more about your father. I don't think he's done with me yet. Do you?"
Zach took a long draft of his beer, then set the glass down on the table. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. Send him on his way."
She leaned forward, hating the way his face had grown hard, his eyes had turned bitter. "You're not responsible for his actions. You're his son, not his gatekeeper."
Zach leaned back against the seat. "I used to be his gatekeeper."
"How so?"
"When I was a kid, Jackson took me with him wherever he went. We slept in motels, in the backs of cars, on the streets. We even slept in a rail car once. For a while it was a wild adventure. Me and my pop against the world. When my dad made money at the track or whatever game he was running, I was the one who held on to it, stuffing it in my socks or whatever hiding place I could find. I didn't realize then that my father was more dangerous than any thief in an alley. The only person who ever stole from me was him."
She put a hand on his arm, relieved when he didn't immediately shake it off. "He was your father, and you were a little boy. I'm surprised you learned the difference between right and wrong, growing up the way you did."
"It took time." Zach gazed unseeingly at the tabletop. "Pop had a big run through Paradise. Talked half the town into investing in a business scheme. I was sixteen then and working part-time at Stanton Farms. When he came to get me after he'd made his run, I told him I wasn't going with him. He said he wouldn't leave me behind unless I could make it worth his while."
"By doing what?" Katherine rubbed her fingers against his arm, wishing she could relieve some of the tension in his tight body.
Zach hesitated, clearly battling with himself over something. "He wanted me to take Mrs. Stanton's wedding ring. She had a habit of leaving it in the barn when she gave her favorite horse a bath. So one day I saw my opportunity and I took it. I sold her wedding ring for my life. She cried for weeks."
"Oh, Zach."
"Don't feel sorry for me," he warned, his voice edged with bitterness and self-recrimination. "I was a thief."
"You were a scared teenager. I know that doesn't excuse what you did, but I am sorry that you had to make a choice like that."
"It wasn't that hard to make." His gaze burned into hers. "I knew then I wasn't much different from my father."
"There is a world of difference between you." She felt an inexplicable need to persuade him of that fact.
"A thief is a thief, no matter what the intentions behind the theft."
"Have you ever thought of telling Mrs. Stanton?"
Zach uttered a cynical laugh. "A million times. But I compounded the lie. About ten years ago, I saved up enough money to buy Mrs. Stanton a ring to match the one she'd lost. I had one of the grooms accidentally discover it and return it to her."
"And she was none the wiser?"
"I don't know. She never said. I never asked. But the last thing I want is for Jackson to open that old wound."
"That's why you came to the restaurant tonight," Katherine said, remembering the earlier byplay between the two men. "He forced your hand.”
"Yes, but I also came to warn you."
"At the risk of him telling the Stantons about your theft?"
"Well, I don't know if it would matter anymore. It was a long time ago."
"Of course it would matter. It was a risk you took for me." The realization shocked her.
Zach stared at her for a long minute. "I couldn't let him play you for a sucker, too."
She shivered at the intensity in his voice, the look in his eyes. "One might think you actually care what happens to me."
"You're desperate to find your father. Desperation makes for an easy mark."
"Are you sure that it's a lie?”
"Do I have DNA proof that he couldn't be your father? No. But he's unwilling to take a blood test, which is a sure sign he's hiding something. It's also my understanding that he had a vasectomy shortly after my birth."
"Really?" She felt a huge weight slip off her shoulders.
"He told me so once, something along the lines of 'I'm going to make sure I don't have any more brats like you."'
"I wish we could be certain.”
Zach thought for a minute. "My father has a woman friend in Louisville, Veronica Lacey. She's known him forever, slept with him on and off for probably thirty years. She's been his confidante in the past. Maybe she could verify the vasectomy. I have to go to Louisville tomorrow anyway. We sent Rogue down there today and I want to check on him. I can stop in at Veronica's before I come back."
"Can I go with you?"
"I don't know..."
"I have a stake in this, too, remember?”
"All right, but I'm leaving at four-thirty.”
Her jaw dropped. "In the morning?"
"I want to catch the morning workout at six." He smiled at her look of discomfort. "Too early for a city girl?"
She rose to the challenge in his eyes. "Not at all."
He nodded, sliding out of the booth. "I'll take you back to the hotel now. I want you to lock your door and don't open it, no matter who comes knocking."
Chapter Ten
Four-thirty in the morning was too damn early for anyone to be up, Katherine decided grumpily as she drew her heavy red sweater around her shoulders. It was still dark outside, the air cold and crisp, the streetlights casting menacing shadows on the empty sidewalks.
She was thankful she'd dressed for comfort in blue jeans and tennis shoes along with a pink long-sleeve T-shirt under her red sweater. She'd pulled her hair into a no-nonsense ponytail and only glossed her lips with a light pink. She simply couldn't be bothered getting up a second earlier to fix her face. She yawned again as Zach's truck pulled up in front of the hotel.
Zach kept the motor running as she walked down to the truck and got in. "Mornin'," he sang out with the most cheerful smile she'd ever seen on his face. Wearing his trademark black jeans and a burgundy and gold jacket, he looked far too happy for this hour of the morning.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?" he said. "I love this time right before dawn when the sun is creeping up over the horizon."
She looked at him through narrowed, irritated eyes. "You've got to be kidding. I don't see any sun."
His grin broadened. "I'm sensing that you're not a morning person."
"Why would you say that?"
Zach pointed to a thermos on the seat next to him. "I brought hot coffee guaranteed to give you a jump start."
She reached for the thermos as if it were a lifesaver and poured some coffee into a mug. As she lifted it to her lips, she saw the picture -- a cartoon figure sitting behind a desk stacked with papers and the words, "Are we having fun yet?"
"No," she said.
"Huh?" he asked, as he drove down the highway.
She held up the cup for him to see. "I'm not having fun yet."
"Take a few more sips," he encouraged.
"I don't suppose you have a nice fluffy omelet and some hash browns stashed away somewhere.”
"Cereal bars in the glove compartment. Will that help?"
"Barely, but I'll take it."
After drinking half a cup of coffee and downing a rather grainy, far-too-healthy cereal bar, she felt marginally better.
Zach turned on the radio, and she settled back in her seat, but as they drew closer to Louisville, she began to feel more edgy. She needed this trip to put an end to Jackson Tyler's declaration that he was her father, a fact she could not stomach. She'd told herself a million times that Zach knew his father better than she did and he was more that convinced it was a con. She just couldn't buy into it.
"Did my father bother you last night?" Zach asked, as if he had read her mind.
"No."
"Mm-mm."
"That doesn't sound good." She sent him a quick glance, but his hard profile was unreadable.
"It's a little too easy," Zach said. "He's up to something."
"Maybe he decided to back off when you didn't support his claim."
"We'll see." Zach leaned over and turned up the radio as the local news broadcast its daily pre-Derby Countdown update.
The announcer said, "One of the most renowned trainers in the world, David Montgomery, announced today that he has scratched Camelot's Court from the Derby due to a lingering virus that set in after he showed in the Arkansas Derby. And now on to other news..."
Zach switched off the radio.
"Is that good or bad news?" Katherine asked.
"Doesn't matter. Camelot's Court didn't have a chance."
"Is it hard to get into the Derby? They only take so many horses, right?"
"The horse has to have earned a certain amount of prize money in the past year and have some key wins in stake races."
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