King’s Million-Dollar Secret

by Maureen Child

  Sure, he’d told Emily that he was sticking to his plan, but she’d made him start to doubt the wisdom in that. But he couldn’t think of a good way out of this mess. Because, he realized with startling clarity, the moment he told Katie about his lies, what his real name was, it would all be over between them.

  Odd that he hadn’t considered that possibility before. But then, he hadn’t thought that he would want to keep seeing her once this job was finished. Now though, he knew he didn’t want her disappearing from his life at the end of this job. He wanted to keep seeing her. And the chances of that happening looked slim.

  He imagined blurting out the truth right there and then. Telling her that he wasn’t the man she thought he was. And in his mind’s eye, he saw her features tighten with betrayal, saw the shine in her green eyes dim and then flash with fury, and he told himself that it didn’t matter if he was starting to get uncomfortable with his lies.

  She wasn’t ready to learn the truth.

  He wanted her to care for him before he told her who he was. And then? a voice in his mind whispered. But he didn’t have an answer to that yet. All Rafe knew was that he wanted to be with her now. And he didn’t want the King name ruining that.

  So he was stuck with his lies, his plan, whether he wanted to be or not.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject.

  “A little more awake, thanks. The latte helped.”

  “Not enough,” he decided. Her green eyes were shadowed and her face was too pale to suit him. The fact that he was worried about her bothered him, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about that. “You still look tired.”

  “Well, don’t I feel pretty?” she asked wryly.

  “You’re beautiful.” Two words, softly spoken, and they seemed to echo in the air around them. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. It had been a knee-jerk reaction.

  “Rafe—”

  “Don’t,” he said quietly, before she could start in on her speech about how nothing had changed and she still wasn’t interested in being with him. He could feel her reaction to his closeness. Her skin was warm and though her eyes were tired, he still noticed the gleam of desire in their depths.

  Leaning in closer to her, Rafe reached out, touched her cheek with his fingertips and tipped her face up for his kiss. “Just, let me…”

  She sighed and moved into him, meeting him half-way, taking what he offered, and Rafe was relieved. He didn’t know if he could have taken her turning from him or pulling away. He’d been thinking about doing just this for the last few days. Thinking about her. The first touch of her mouth to his eased everything inside him, yet rekindled a fire that had been nothing more than glowing embers since their one night together.

  His body tightened, his heartbeat thundered in his chest and Rafe had to fight every instinct he possessed to keep from grabbing her and yanking her close to him. He wanted his hands on her again. Wanted her under him, over him. Wanted her body surrendering to his.

  He groaned then, knowing he couldn’t have everything he wanted right now. And the longer he kissed her, the less willing he would be to stop. So he pulled back while he still could and drew a long, shaky breath.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he waited for control to slide back into his body, but it was a long time coming. Especially when he could feel her short, sharp breaths against his face. Well, he thought wryly, so much for her claims of not wanting to be with him again.

  Several long moments passed before he gave her a smile, looked into her eyes and said, “There. Told you we weren’t done with each other.”

  Katie shook her head, one corner of her mouth tipping into a reluctant half smile. “You really think now is the right time for I-told-you-sos?”

  “What better time?”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “I like that.” He skimmed his fingers through her hair until his hand was at the back of her neck, kneading her skin with a sure, gentle touch.

  “You would,” she told him, sighing at his touch.

  “Are we going to argue again?” he asked. “Because I warn you, I’m getting to the point where I really enjoy our ‘disagreements.’”

  “Maybe later.” She cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand.

  “At least you admit there will be a ‘later.’”

  “Yes,” she said with a slow nod, never tearing her gaze from his. “There will be.”

  “Tonight.” Rafe caught her hand in his. “I want to see you tonight.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Another barbecue?”

  “Oh, I think this time we’ll let someone else cook. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, easing back behind the wheel.

  “To go where?”

  “That’s a surprise.” He shot her a quick grin as a plan formed in his mind while he steered the car into traffic. “All you have to do is dress up. Oh, and take a nap. I want you wide awake tonight.”

  “That sounds intriguing.”

  “Count on it.”

  His mind was already racing with plans and he smiled to himself as it all began to come together.

  That feeling lasted until he went home to change.

  The minute he walked into his hotel suite, he knew someone was there. Didn’t take a genius, after all. There was a designer purse on his couch and a pair of black heels under the glass-topped coffee table.

  Rafe’s brain raced frantically. Had he already set up a date for tonight? He didn’t think so. Hell, he hadn’t seen anyone since Selena the Self Involved Actress. So who…?

  “Rafe? Is that you?”

  The familiar, feminine voice sent a twist of old pain mixed with regret slashing through his middle, but he fought it down and managed to give his ex-wife a half smile when she came in off the balcony.

  “Leslie. What are you doing here?”

  The cool, elegant brunette flashed him a brief, wry smile. “Well, good to see you too, Rafe.”

  Irritated at being called to the carpet on his manners when she was the one who’d shown up unannounced and let herself into his home, Rafe just stared at her. Waiting.

  It didn’t take long. Leslie never had been the patient type. “I know I should have called before just showing up here.”

  “That would’ve been good,” he said.

  She stood with the balcony and the bank of windows at her back. Rafe was absolutely sure she knew that the sunlight streaming in through those windows was highlighting her to a beautiful advantage. Leslie always had known how to show herself off in the best way. She was lovely, self-assured and the only woman in the world who had ever told him that he wasn’t good enough.

  That memory colored his tone when he spoke. “How did you get in here?”

  “Oh,” she said, giving him a palms-up shrug, “Declan’s still the concierge here. He let me up so I could wait for you in private.”

  Silently, Rafe told himself that he’d be having a little chat with Declan real soon. For the moment though… “I repeat. What are you doing here?”

  Leslie frowned slightly, not enough to mar her brow or anything, but he got the message. She had never had any trouble letting Rafe know that he’d disappointed her in some way. Looking back now, he couldn’t even remember why they had gotten married in the first place.

  “You always were a straightforward man,” she murmured.

  “As I recall, that’s one of the things you didn’t care for.”

  Her mouth flattened into a straight line briefly; then, as if she’d willed it to happen, it curved again slightly. “Look at us. It’s been years since we divorced and we’re still treating each other like the enemy.”

  He shifted a little at that, since it was true and there really was no point in it. Leslie wasn’t a part of his life anymore, so why go on a forced march down memory lane?

  “True. So tell me. Why are you here?”

  “Honestly?” She shook her head in wonder and admitted, “I can’t believe I’m here, either.
But I didn’t have anywhere else to turn.”

  She took a small breath, covered her mouth with her fingertips and let tears well in her eyes. Something inside Rafe tightened as he remembered all the times Leslie had been able to turn on the tears. During an argument, to avoid an argument or just to make the point that he was a selfish bastard—out came the tears. When they were dating, he’d felt almost heroic when he could make those tears stop. Because she looked so damn fragile when she cried. Today though, he was no longer moved. Besides, she had a different husband now. Why wasn’t she home turning him inside out?

  “Oh, Rafe,” she whispered brokenly, allowing the sunlight to backlight her to perfection. “I hated coming here, truly, but I had no choice.”

  “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s John,” she said and Rafe felt an instant stab of worry. After all, before he became Leslie’s husband, John Peters had been Rafe’s best friend.

  “Is he all right?”

  “Physically, yes,” she said with a little shake of her head. “But Rafe, he’s lost his job and I don’t know what to do.”

  For one very brief second, Rafe felt a twinge of sympathy for his old friend. He and John had met in college and until Leslie had come between them, they’d been the best of friends. Truthfully, Rafe had missed John’s friendship more than he had missed being with Leslie.

  A sad statement on a dead marriage.

  “What’s that got to do with me?” He winced at the tone in his own voice and knew that he’d sounded crueler than he’d intended when her head came up and her eyes narrowed.

  “You don’t have to be mean.”

  He sighed and glanced at his watch. He wanted to take a shower, get dressed and pick up Katie. Leslie was his past and his present was looking a lot more promising. So rather than prolonging this conversation, he got to the point. “Leslie, you’re my ex-wife married to my ex-friend. Just how much sympathy do you expect?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed, heading for the wet bar along the wall. He suddenly wanted a beer. “I don’t.”

  She walked over to join him and asked for a glass of wine. Once he’d poured it and handed it to her, Leslie took a sip and said, “I need money.”

  Rafe almost smiled, even as he felt a brand-new sheen of ice coat his heart. He should have known. When it came right down to it, what people wanted from the Kings was money. Never failed. “Does John know you’re here?”

  “Of course not. He’d be humiliated.”

  That much Rafe believed. The man Rafe remembered would have been horrified to know that Leslie was here asking for help. He leaned one arm on the bar top. “Just out of curiosity, say I give you the cash you need, how do you explain that to John?”

  “I’ll find a way,” she said, lifting her chin slightly to prove her point. “I can be pretty persuasive.”

  “I remember.” He remembered a lot, Rafe thought. Leslie had always been able to find a way to get whatever it was she wanted. That much, it seemed, hadn’t changed. As he looked at his ex-wife now, he mentally compared her to Katie Charles. Katie with her soft hair and faded jeans. With the laugh that seemed to bubble up from her soul. With green eyes that flashed from humor to fury and back again in a heartbeat.

  Leslie was coolly elegant.

  Katie was heat and passion and—he shut his brain off before it went on an even wilder tangent.

  “Rafe, I wouldn’t have come to you if I’d had anywhere else to turn,” she said, and for the first time, her voice held an edge of regret.

  “Yeah, I know that, too.” Rafe thought about Katie again and wondered what she would do if she was in Leslie’s position. He didn’t like to think about Katie being in trouble. Didn’t want to acknowledge that it bothered him more than a little to know that she wouldn’t turn to him.

  Then he thought about how hard Katie worked at building her business. How she scrambled for a living. How she worked and fought for a future doing something she loved. She would do whatever she had to do to take care of herself. And he realized that Leslie was only doing the same thing now. She never would have come to him for help if she hadn’t been desperate. Hell, he could read that much in her tear-sheened blue eyes. Because of Katie, Rafe felt a surge of sympathy for Leslie he might not have experienced just a few weeks ago. What was that about?

  However it had ended between them, Rafe knew he couldn’t ignore Leslie’s request for help. Maybe he was finally letting the past go—along with the regrets and the stinging sense of failure memories of his marriage inevitably dredged up.

  “Call my assistant Janice tomorrow,” he told her. “She’ll give you however much you need.”

  She let out a relieved breath and gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. To tell the truth, I didn’t really think you’d help.”

  “But you asked anyway.”

  “Had to,” she said, her gaze steady and honest. “I can’t stand seeing John worried and upset.”

  Rafe studied her. “You really love him.”

  “I really do,” she said simply.

  That should at least sting, he thought, but it didn’t. Not anymore. And, if he was honest with himself, Rafe could admit that when Leslie had walked out, it had been his pride, more than his heart, that had been affected. What did that say about him? Was Leslie right when she told him that he simply wasn’t capable of love?

  “Les, when we were married,” he asked quietly, studying the label on his beer bottle as if looking for the right words, “did you feel that way about me? Would you have protected me if I needed it?”

  “You didn’t need me, Rafe,” she said softly. “You never really did.”

  “I loved you.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”

  Irritation spiked. “I guess I know what I felt.”

  “Don’t be so insulted,” she said, giving him a patient smile. “I know you cared, but you didn’t love me, Rafe. I finally got tired of trying to get through to you.”

  He straightened up, set his beer down and stuffed both hands into his jeans pockets. “I seem to recall you telling me I was incapable of love.”

  She blinked at him, stunned. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, you did,” he argued.

  “For heaven’s sake, Rafe,” she countered, “why would I say that?”

  “Funny, I asked myself that a few times.”

  “Honestly, Rafe, this is one of the reasons we didn’t work out,” she told him with a shake of her head. “You never listened to me. I never said you were incapable of love. I said you were incapable of loving me.”

  He shifted his gaze from Leslie to the view beyond his windows. The sun was sliding into the ocean, dazzling the waves in a brilliant crimson light. A cool breeze danced in through the open balcony doors and he turned his face into it. “Either way, you were right.”

  “No,” Leslie said. “I wasn’t.”

  She reached out and laid one hand on his arm. “Rafe, don’t you get it? You didn’t love me and that hurt. So I wanted to hurt you back.”

  She hadn’t hurt him, he realized now. She had just driven home the point he’d learned long before her. That love was something you had to be taught when you were growing up. And that was one course Rafe had never gotten.

  Leslie tipped her head to one side and looked up at him. “Who is she?”

  “What?” He stiffened, instantly retreating into privacy mode, shuttering his eyes, closing down his expression. He took a long, metaphorical step back and distanced himself as much as possible from the curiosity in Leslie’s eyes.

  “Wow,” she murmured, staring at him as if he’d just performed a magic trick, “you still do that so easily.”

  “Do what?”

  “Lock yourself away the instant anybody gets close. Used to make me crazy,” she admitted. “It was as if you were on a constant red alert—just waiting for a sneak attack on your heart so you could defend ag
ainst it.”

  He resented the description, but Rafe really couldn’t deny it, either.

  Shaking her head again, she said, “Don’t do it, Rafe. I mean, with her, whoever she is, don’t do this. Let her in. Risk it.”

  “Yeah, because my track record is so good.”

  “You don’t need a track record to love someone,” she told him. “All it takes is the right someone.”

  “Like John?” he asked.

  “For me, yes. Exactly like John.” She let her hand fall from his arm and added, “You know, John misses your friendship. You didn’t have to cut him loose because of what happened between us, Rafe.”

  Yes, he did. Because he couldn’t look at his friend without knowing that somehow, John had been able to do something Rafe had failed at. He’d made Leslie happy when Rafe couldn’t. Kings didn’t like losing, probably because they weren’t very good at it. Thankfully, the Kings didn’t have to deal with that situation often, since they rarely accepted failure.

  But in these last few minutes with Leslie, Rafe could admit that whatever he had once felt at losing her was now gone. She was married, happy and a mother. Leslie had moved on, just as his brothers had said. Maybe it was time he did the same thing. Should he really allow one failure to dictate the rest of his life?

  “I’ve missed John, too,” he admitted finally. And since that statement didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth, he heard himself ask, “How are the kids?”

  Her face brightened instantly and her smile went wide and heartfelt. “They’re terrific. Want to see some pictures?”

  “Sure.” It only took her a moment to get her purse and pull out her wallet. Then she was flipping through pictures of two beautiful kids, each of them with her hair and John’s eyes. He looked at those shining faces and felt the slightest ping of envy at the proof of his ex-wife’s current life. “Nice-looking kids.”