Blaire stepped forward. “I’ve seen the door, Ms. MacGlenary. And it looks quite nice, freshly painted and all. In fact, the whole place looks rather spiffy. Right now I want an answer to my question. What are you trying to pull here? You told me this estate was in near ruins. What were you trying to do, trick Darian out of his inheritance?” Blaire glanced around her and waved her arms at her side. “Obviously you were lying to me or I’ve just been dropped into Oz. This is a showplace.”
“The state of my home is of no concern to you, Miss Kincaid. Now I suggest it’s time for you to leave.” She firmly placed a hand under Blaire’s elbow and began to escort her toward the doors leading out to the entryway. Blaire allowed herself to be led several steps away from the fireplace and then stopped, pulled her elbow out of Reva’s grasp, and turned to her.
“That’s not the only reason I came here. What have you told my father about the case I worked on for you?”
Reva hesitated and Blaire watched her face. “I simply told him the truth. That you had failed. It was a simple assignment and you had failed—miserably. Of course, he only laughed and said he had not expected anything else from you, incompetent as you are. But I assured him I would keep your failure under my hat, lest I kindle the flame for a bad reputation for your business.”
Blaire bristled. “I spent over two months on that case and did the best I could,” she quipped. “The trail was over eighteen years old. Darian had not been seen or heard from for years. How in the hell was I supposed to find someone who never wanted to be found? I did the best I could, which was a damn good job, if you ask me. How dare you indicate to my father that I was incompetent.”
“I didn’t say that. He did.”
Blaire tried to ignore her but the knife-like pain sliced deep. “And how dare you ask for half of my money back when I did all I could! And…and particularly when you are sitting in here among crystal chandeliers and silk draperies when you indicated you were about to be sent to the poorhouse!”
“You didn’t get Darian to sign the papers.”
But I did! I did get Darian to sign the papers. Even though I didn’t want him to….
“No. No, I didn’t. And I’m glad now that I didn’t. Obviously you misrepresented yourself to me in this matter. You lied to me and you tried to cheat Darian out of his inheritance.” Blaire glared at her. “And I’ll tell you something else, don’t you dare think you’re going to hold this thing over my head to my father. It won’t work. If I have to, I’ll go to the authorities, or… Or, the press.”
Reva took a step closer and peered deep into Blaire’s eyes. “Oh, no you won’t. For one, your father won’t be the half of it, Blaire Kincaid. If you go to the authorities, or the press with this, when I get through with you, there won’t be a person in the state of Vermont who will do business with you. Or, who will vote for your father. I don’t think that would be very pleasant for you.”
Blaire shook her head and chuckled. “You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“I don’t need one, dearie. I’ve got money. And what I want, I get. Then I win. The only one who will lose is you. So you better keep your mouth shut!”
Blaire was in no mood to dally with the likes of Reva MacGlenary. “Screw you!” She shouted as she backed away from Reva and started for the entryway door.
“Is that what you did for six days in that cabin with my nephew, Blaire? Screw him?”
Halting, Blaire anchored her feet into the oak floor and closed her eyes against the pain piercing her chest. How dare she desecrate what she and Darian shared, however brief? With her back still to Reva, she breathed deep, trying to cleanse herself of all the horrid thoughts that were running through her mind. Thoughts of strangling the woman behind her and tossing her into the fire. Screwing was not what she had done with Darian. Making love wasn’t even the best term for it. It was… More.
Slowly, Blaire turned to face her.
“That is none of your business,” she spat out.
“So you admit you saw him. I think it is my business. You were on my time. I was paying you.”
Blaire’s face became animated. “Paying me? You didn’t pay me to go down there and do anything but get the damn documents signed.”
“And I told you to do anything you could to do it, didn’t I?”
“I don’t recall that statement.”
Reva stepped closer, a sadistic grin stretched across her face. “Oh, but Blaire. Don’t you remember? I told you to do whatever it took and you agreed, even if it meant screwing him to get him to sign. Remember, I know my nephew well, I told you that. He’d do anything for a good roll in the hay. And don’t you remember? I promised you more than the ten thousand dollars if you did. I promised you a whole lot more than that.”
Blaire was livid. “You said nothing of the kind! The deal was five thousand up front. Five thousand when I returned with the papers.”
“Which you didn’t do.”
“Exactly. And I paid you back everything except for my expenses, which is fair. I lost two months’ worth of work. I didn’t expect anything else. We never agreed to anything else.”
“That’s not what I remember, Blaire. You said you’d do anything to get away from your father and get your business off the ground. And for that, you needed money, which your father would not give you. You said right here, in this room, that if you had to you would seduce Darian to get him to sign away his inheritance.”
Blaire’s heart pumped wildly in disbelief. “I did not! This is the first time I’ve been here. Why are you trying to destroy my credibility? Why did you tell my father you were not satisfied with my work?”
“Because I’m not.”
“Why?”
“Because if you’d done what I’d paid you to do, all my problems would be solved by now. As it stands, they’ve only just begun.”
Blaire shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Turn around, and you’ll find out.”
“What?”
“Turn around.”
Blaire stared at her, quite puzzled. Slowly, she turned to face the entry. And when she did, every muscle in her face fell lax.
Darian?
A man stood before her. A thick forest green sweater was stretched across his broad chest; khaki pants graced his muscled thighs. Close-cropped black hair laced with gray at the temples shone back at her. Steel gray eyes penetrated hers. She blinked and her mouth dropped open. His beard. It was gone. There was only a hint of a five-o’clock shadow. His upper lip and cheeks and neck were bare. Gone was the flannel shirt, the blue jeans, and the lace-up work boots. Gone was the man she fell in love with.
This was certainly not Darian MacGlenary. Not the man she had made love to. This man was an impostor.
And a quite angry one at that.
Chapter Nine
“Darian?” His name slipped from her lips on a wisp of breath. Realty was sinking in. It was him.
He’d cut his hair. Shaved his beard. Oh, my.
His flannel shirt and faded work jeans were gone. He was dressed in a cable-knit sweater and black dress pants.
He was her Darian. And he wasn’t.
Darian took a step forward. Blaire countered that step while watching his fists clench at his sides. He was obviously angry. She was in no mood for surprises. But the magnetism between them was palpable. He looked too damn good.
“What are you doing here?” Her heart pounded.
“I think you need to answer that question first, Blaire. And a whole lot more.” His gruff expression didn’t budge, his voice angry.
She bristled. He’d heard what Reva said? Oh, God. “Darian, she’s lying.”
“I’m not so sure. Perhaps you were after the money. Perhaps you were after more than that.”
“Like what?”
“Like half of my inheritance.”
“Like hell! I don’t need your inheritance, Darian MacGlenary. I’ve got one of my own.”
“Yes, but from what I just
understood here, Daddy Warbucks doesn’t give in to his darling daughter so freely anymore. Perhaps you needed a meal ticket and I was the Sugar Daddy.”
She reached out and touched his arm in an attempt to soften the conversation. She didn’t really want to argue with him. She had too many questions. “Darian, this is ridiculous. I told you the truth. I told you what she told me.” Blaire glanced back to indicate Reva. “I thought the estate was about to go under because some lawyer had embezzled most of yours and your grandfather’s money away.”
“Then why are you here now?” He jerked his arm away.
Sighing, Blaire glared back at him. “I could ask you that same question.”
“Quit changing the subject. Are you still after my inheritance?”
She wanted to cry. She wouldn’t let herself. She wouldn’t let him know how much that hurt. “You are a beast.”
He ignored her. “Why are you here, Blaire?”
“None of your business. Now you answer my question.”
“This is my home.”
“Since when?”
“Since I decided to take some control of my life.” He shifted his massive weight from one foot to another and turned slightly away from her.
“Well, that’s a switch,” she countered.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that it took you long enough to figure that out, didn’t it?”
“It’s taken me long enough to realize that I’m looking at a woman who seduces men for money.”
Blaire bristled. Why was he believing this bull? “I told you, that was a lie.”
“Prove it.” He leaned his body into hers.
“What?” Blaire stepped closer, practically nose to nose with him, her fists firmly planted on her hips.
“I said prove it.”
“I can’t. She’s lying. It’s your Aunt Reva, Darian. Remember?” She threw up her hands. “You’re just going to have to believe me. That’s not the way it happened.”
“And why should I?”
“Why shouldn’t you? I’ve never done anything to hurt you before.”
Darian paused and stared at her. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“I haven’t done anything to hurt you Darian. If anything, you were the one doling out the hurt. If I recall, you were the one who gave me the brush off the morning after…the morning after we….” She glanced at Reva, smirking a few feet away from her, and then lowered her voice. “You know what I’m talking about. You were mean and hateful. Then you left me. All alone. Didn’t you think that hurt? Don’t you dare try to turn this thing around to make me the bad guy. I haven’t done anything wrong!”
She pushed past him and headed for the entryway, determined to get the hell away from there before she actually did explode.
“Blaire! Come back,” Darian shouted.
“Go screw yourself!” As she brushed past the hired help who had escorted her into the room earlier, and pulled on the front door knob, she tried to stifle a sob.
“Blaire! I want an answer,” he shouted. “Was it me? Or was it my money?”
Blaire stopped in her tracks. Why was he acting this way? Where was the man who so tenderly took away her virginity? Her virginity.
She angrily spun. “Yes, Darian,” she hurled. “It was your goddamn money I was after. Your money. I was after your goddamn money!” The hell with it, she thought. Let him believe whatever he wants to believe. I’m done.
She turned and jerked open the door and left, slamming the solid piece of oak as she did.
****
Darian followed, but by the time he made it out the door, she had started the ignition and spun passed the covered porch. He watched her wind down the drive. His breathing deepened, his chest expanded and deflated in rapid succession; his fists clenched and unclenched as they hung at his sides. When his aunt joined him, he simply looked at her with an unfeeling, non-revealing, calculating look that he could tell startled her.
At least that was the look he hoped he was projecting.
Then he turned and stalked away leaving her standing in the cold.
Damn her, he chided himself as he entered the house. Damn Blaire Kincaid for complicating my life.
****
Blaire pounded the steering wheel with her fist as she descended the mountain, her vision blurred by a thick veil of tears. When she reached the bottom and the gates slowly drew back, she exited the MacGlenary estate and smashed her foot onto the brake so hard that the car skidded out into the road, and her body flew forward against the steering wheel. She came to an abrupt stop. Lowering her head against her knuckles, she finally, blessedly, let herself cry.
She’d wondered for weeks what she’d do if she ever saw him again. Wondered how she’d feel, how she’d handle it. Well, now she knew.
She handled it just like she handled everything else in her life. Very badly. Squeezing her eyes shut against the hot tears that spilled over onto her cheeks, against her clammy skin, she wanted to give up. Just give it all up. But then what?
She didn’t know.
So, she just sobbed.
For the night they’d made love, for the morning he left her alone, for his pain at having lost his child, and for her pain at having lost him… But never for the fact that she had given him her virginity. She didn’t regret that at all. Although it obviously wasn’t important to him.
She’d wanted to touch him. She’d wanted him to rush forward and fold herself into his warm, barrel-chested body. She wanted to finally feel that moment of acceptance, that final surrender, when he held her and she melted against him in an embrace that could only last a lifetime. And she wanted to hear him say he missed her, that he’d come back for her, that he loved her.
Loved her.
She had wanted all that. Even though she tried to deny any of those feelings over the past few weeks, she couldn’t deny them when she saw him. She loved him. And now, now as her chest felt ripped wide open, exposing every nerve in her heart to the cold, brutal world, she knew she’d never rid herself of her feelings for Darian. She would always love him. Always.
There was simply nothing to be done about it, however. He would never return that love.
****
Snow fell for three days after that and as Darian stood at the huge bay window facing out over the mountain, he thought of Kentucky. Reminded of the few days he and Blaire spent together at the cabin, snowbound, he recalled how those days were like an oasis in the midst of a lifelong dessert. Hating to admit it even to himself, she had come to him like an angel, at a time when he felt most desperate, and gave him hope—however brief.
Until he drove her away.
And now he was here. Back in Vermont. And everything had changed.
As angry as he’d been earlier in the week, she had looked so beautiful standing there in the den, the fire in the fireplace backlighting her. And she had returned that anger. Her eyes had flashed surprise and then blue-fire fury, as she’d turned from Reva to him. At the moment of recognition—at that point when she’d realized that it was him standing before her—he had witnessed the longing and the passion stirring behind her eyes. She couldn’t hide it any more than he. That’s why he had turned to anger her; that’s why he’d grasped at anything to get the passion out of her eyes. Why he’d indicated that he believed Reva.
And it nearly killed him. As it had done when he watched her leave him three weeks earlier.
For nearly a week he had waited at the cabin to see if she would return, but she didn’t. Then after the third week alone, he couldn’t stand it anymore. The tranquil existence that he once cherished was now driving him crazy. He had no choice but to leave. Not to find her, just to leave.
Figure out what his grandfather had done. Where his life was going next.
Thinking back to the morning she left, he still felt the cold dampness that had settled into his body and tightened his muscles as sat high on the ridge waiting for her to open the door and leave. He knew sh
e would. He knew he’d win—if that were what you would call it. And when she’d finally stepped out onto the porch, her gear thrown over her shoulder, and he’d watched her struggle down the path to the creek and then back up the holler back to her car—without a backward glance—he’d felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest and was leaving with her.
No, not his heart, but his very soul.
Now, he examined the tiny ice crystals forming in the windowsill as the fat, fluffy flakes drifted lazily on top of each other. He was mesmerized, picturing the Appalachians as he closed his eyes. For four winters he’d lived there, surviving. On his own. The quiet beauty was unsurpassed anywhere and he longed to be there—but couldn’t bear it without her. And that would never be. Now that Christmas was drawing near, he thought often about what it might have been like to share Christmas Eve with Blaire.
Then he shook his head and opened his eyes to the stark, cold truth. No gift, no holiday, could ever measure up to what she had given him that night. And although he cared for her deeply, loved her deeply, he would not saddle her with the burden of his problems. Not ever. No matter how much he wanted her. No matter how much he loved her.
So why are you here? Why did you come back to the one place you swore you’d never come again? Why did you come to the one place you knew she’d be?
He turned his back on the picture-perfect snow scene behind him, suddenly realizing it had lost its beauty. He hadn’t a clue why he’d come back. He just knew he couldn’t stay in that empty cabin one moment longer.
****
Blaire scribbled across the yellow legal pad, the phone tucked between her ear and her right shoulder, and stretched across the length of her desk with her left hand to dig into an open file drawer. She was trying to retrieve a photograph of Charlie Hawkins helping his brother-in-law move a piano out of his front door and into the back of a pick-up truck. The man on the other end of the receiver squawked back at her.
“I’ve got it, Mr. Devanthal. Pictures, signed affidavits from witnesses—I’ll have my report to you first thing Monday morning.” She scribbled more onto the yellow pad and listened intently. “Sure. It’s a wrap. There’s no way he can weasel out of this. If he’s got a bad back, then I’m Shirley Temple.” She listened and wrote some more, shifting the phone from right ear to left. “Yes, sir. Monday morning. Right.” Then she hung up.
Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) Page 12