by BETH KERY
She recoiled slightly at the hard edge to his voice. He must have noticed, because he sighed and slumped back in the booth. His thigh pressed tighter against hers, but Natalie doubted he noticed. He seemed so deflated.
“Sorry for snapping at you,” he mumbled. He started to flip a spoon that had been sitting on the table between his long, agile fingers.
“It’s okay,” she said, meaning it. She recalled what Roger Dayson had said about Derry Kavanaugh on the beach.
He seemed like someone had just told him his best friend had been killed.
“I know this can’t be easy for you,” she said quietly as she watched the movement of his fingers.
“I’m sure it’s not a picnic in the park for you, either.”
She glanced up, surprised because his low, gruff voice sounded closer to her ear than she’d expected. His goatee looked so trim and sleek up close. It highlighted his firm mouth to perfection. The thought of what those whiskers would feel like beneath her fingertips rose in her mind to taunt her. She still could hear the rowdy music in the distance, so she couldn’t explain why it suddenly felt as if the two of them were encapsulated in an airtight bubble.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Natalie?”
“Yes. Are you regretting it? Taking the job, I mean?”
His expression remained impassive, but his eyes seemed warm as they flickered across her face.
“I don’t regret it enough to make me stop doing it.”
She just nodded, unable to glance away.
“I wish you’d take off those glasses.”
“What?” she asked, knocked off balance by his abrupt statement.
“I can’t see your eyes. It’s dark back here.” His low, gruff murmur mesmerized her, even though she should have been alarmed by the fact that his firm mouth had just lowered another inch toward her lips. “Go ahead, Natalie. Take them off. I want to look at you.”
Chapter Five
When she remained frozen, a small smile tilted his lips. The spoon thumped to the wood table. He reached with both hands and gently drew off her glasses.
“There. That’s better,” he said as he placed her glasses on the table. “You okay?”
She blinked. Thankfully, her eyelid didn’t quiver or droop. Liam had been right. The light back here in the alcove was indeed dim enough for comfort. She nodded, despite the fact that her heart had started to hammer out a warning in her ears. She wasn’t used to having anyone staring at her as frankly—as warmly—as Liam Kavanaugh was at the moment.
“It makes you uncomfortable, when people look at you,” he said, making her wonder if he was a mind reader.
“If you’d had people gaping at you like you were a freak since you were eleven years old, you might not adore the experience, either,” she said stiffly. She turned away, wishing that her scars faced the wall and not Liam’s sharp eyes. The scoffing noise he made caused her to whip her chin around, though.
“Sorry.” He must have noticed her insulted expression. “But come on…no one is looking at you like you’re a freak. That’s just stupid.”
Anger rose in her, swift and fierce. “What do you know about it?” How could he, a man who had probably never known self-consciousness once in his entire life, stand in judgment of her experience? “You saw the way Roger Dayson stared at me once he realized who I was.”
“I’m sure he was curious once he figured out who you were, but that’s not why most people are staring at you.”
She gaped at him, incredulous at his confidence. He noticed and shook his head. Natalie got the impression he really did consider her something of a bizarre novelty.
“They’re looking at you because you’re beautiful,” he said, his brows cocked, his manner saying loud and clear he was telling her the obvious…like, hello.
She made a scoffing sound. When his expression remained earnest, if puzzled, she sighed.
“What difference does it make?” she asked irritably.
He leaned closer, so that when he spoke she felt his breath brush against her temple.
“It makes a difference to me,” he said. “It should to you. Natalie?”
“Yes,” she mouthed.
“I wish it made a difference to you.”
She looked up at him slowly. Sure enough, his mouth hovered just inches away from her own. He’d moved closer. Her left arm lay flush against his torso. The tingling tip of her left breast pressed against his ribs.
His mouth lowered, and Natalie realized distantly she’d entered that fog of sensuality that had encapsulated her several days ago in Liam’s driveway. Despite her heart pumping out a warning, she couldn’t seem to gather sufficient will to do much of anything but anticipate Liam’s mouth closing on her own.
A man spoke and a woman laughed shrilly. Natalie started and saw two men and a blonde woman walking toward the booth in front of them. She recognized Betsy Darnel. Betsy had taken off her jacket. Her top looked more like a draped silk handkerchief tied around her neck than a blouse. It covered her chest, but left her shoulders, back and a strip of belly almost completely bare. The two men who had accompanied her to the table were shamelessly checking out Betsy’s rear-view as she came toward their booth, but Betsy only had eyes for Liam.
“Hi, Liam,” Betsy said.
“Hey, Betsy.”
“Let me out. Please,” Natalie hissed quietly.
“When I saw you at the Shop and Save yesterday you said you were too busy to come to Jake’s tonight,” Betsy reminded Liam, unaware of Natalie’s mutterings. Natalie put her glasses back on and grabbed her bag. Her need to get out of the crowded bar had just grown exponentially. “I guess you changed your mind about coming,” Betsy continued, sounding a little sulky. “How come you’re sitting way back here, where you can’t even hear the music very well?”
“We were talking. We needed some quiet. And some privacy,” Liam replied. Natalie shoved her bag into his ribs, making him grunt.
“Talking, huh?” Betsy mused. Liam gave Natalie a surprised, annoyed glance and scooted out of the seat, probably because he didn’t want to be jabbed again. Once Natalie’s way was clear she shot out of the booth as if she’d been stored under pressure. “I hope I’m not interrupting a personal moment or anything,” Betsy said as she gave Natalie the once-over.
Natalie hitched her bag onto her shoulder, highly aware of Liam’s tall form hovering over her the whole time.
“No, nothing personal,” she told Betsy coolly. “It was just a business meeting. Good night.”
She ignored Betsy’s sarcastic laugh of disbelief.
“Natalie, wait.”
She heard Liam call out, but she ignored him as she rushed away.
Brigit Kavanaugh waved distractedly at Liam from her kneeling position in her garden.
“Something is eating my lettuce and tomatoes, Chief. I demand answers!” she said with mock imperiousness as she stood.
“If you’re implying my soon-to-be job is going to involve hot pursuits of salad-eating rabbits, you’re not doing much to bolster my confidence about taking it.”
Liam felt a little guilty, given his reason for being there, when his mother laughed in a carefree manner. She didn’t laugh enough, nowadays.
“That sun is fierce. Come on, let’s go in the air-conditioning. I want to talk to you about something,” Liam said.
Brigit led him into the cool, shaded front room. The Kavanaughs hardly ever used the living room. They were a kitchen, front porch or beach sort of family. There had been a formal dining room and an elegant parlor in Liam’s childhood home in Chicago; he didn’t miss them a bit. Even before the lawsuits, even before they’d moved to the Harbor Town vacation home permanently, the Kavanaughs hadn’t spent much time in stuffy surroundings. His brother and sisters had always begged to eat in the kitchen or on their large, shaded terrace; most nights they’d been indulged. Derry Kavanaugh had made the kind of salary that allowed him to support his wife’s tastes in luxury, but Derry himself
would rather eat in the cozy, slightly messy kitchen with his children than in the formal dining room.
“So what’s this all about?” Brigit asked briskly as she sat next to him on the tufted couch.
Liam didn’t know how to start. It was more difficult than he’d anticipated, broaching the topic of his father. In the end, he just took the plunge. “Mom, was Dad upset when you saw him? On the night of the accident?”
Brigit’s smile shrunk.
“What?” she croaked, her expression leading Liam to believe she wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him correctly.
“On the night of the accident. Was Dad upset? You saw him before he went out, isn’t that right?”
“Why are you asking about this all of a sudden?”
He grimaced when he heard the offended, stiff quality of her voice. “I’m sorry, Ma, I don’t want to upset you, but it’s something I’ve been wondering about.”
“Why? It happened sixteen years ago. Why should it matter now?”
He considered his mother’s face in the dim light. He couldn’t help but recall that she’d had a heart attack a year ago. It had been a mild one, granted, and Brigit currently was a picture of health. Still…the thought hovered over him like a dark, threatening cloud.
“I’m investigating the events that led up to the crash,” he said quietly.
The silence seemed to swell and billow.
“I don’t understand, Liam.”
Her bewildered expression pained him. He wanted the truth. But at what cost was he willing to get it?
He picked up his mother’s hand, trying to reassure her.
“Someone has hired me to find out any information I can about why Dad behaved so uncharacteristically that night.”
“Someone hired you?” Brigit regarded him like a stranger who had suddenly sat beside her speaking a foreign language. “Who on earth would want to hire you—”
He saw the moment when she guessed at the truth. Her face settled into a cold, grim mask.
“Of course. The only person who would want to hire you for such a ridiculous task would be someone who was involved. That woman I saw you with the other day at your house…the one wearing the dark glasses. That was the Reyes girl, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“Natalie Reyes. Yeah.”
“I see,” Brigit said coldly. She removed her hand from his.
“I don’t think you do at all,” Liam said slowly.
Brigit’s sharp blue eyes flashed to meet his. “Don’t I? She’s a very pretty girl.”
Liam attempted to bury his anger at the insult, knowing his mother had cause to be upset. “I didn’t accept the assignment because she’s pretty.”
“She’s paying you a good sum, then?”
“I didn’t accept it for the money, either,” he shot back. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to return the money this evening. I want to do this for me, Mom. For us. For Marc and Deidre and Colleen…for Dad. Doesn’t he deserve to have someone try to understand him? Everyone has painted him as such a selfish bastard over the years. Is it really so strange I would want to get a more realistic picture of the man who caused that crash…a more human picture?”
“Selfish bastard?” Brigit repeated. Liam noticed her lips had gone white at the corners and she moved them as though they were numb. “That’s how you’ve been seeing your father?”
“No! Of course not. I’m just saying, most people would look at the situation from the outside and—”
Brigit stood up abruptly, halting him. “I’m not going to say anything more about this, Liam,” she told him in a low, shaking voice that set off alarms in his head. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in you at this moment, that you would consider doing something so disrespectful of your father’s memory. All for a girl.”
Liam sprung up from the couch, his worries about his mother’s well-being evaporating beneath the cold sarcasm of her tone.
“I’m not doing it for a girl. I’m doing it for the truth. I’d think you’d want that as well, Mom, but maybe I’m seeing things a little clearer now. You’re pretty damn happy leaving everything locked up tight, aren’t you? That suits you just fine.”
She walked out of the room. A few seconds later, he heard her rapid footsteps on the stairs.
Guilt ripped through him when he recalled her incredulous, hurt expression.
Natalie had a sneaking suspicion who was visiting when she heard the brisk, authoritative knock the following evening, just before the door opened.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I kissed you first the other day, but you sure as hell kissed me back.”
Natalie sat at her desk, stunned into complete silence not only by the first words that flew out of Liam’s mouth, but the unexpected sight of him standing in her office. He wore a white long-sleeved cotton shirt with the unbuttoned cuffs rolled back once and a scowl on his face. His short, golden-brown hair was mussed, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it in frustration.
What in the world was he talking about? Natalie loosened fingers that had gone stiff in the last few seconds and set her pen on the blotter.
“Well good evening to you, too,” she murmured calmly.
He gave her an irritated glance and fell into the leather chair in front of her desk like a dead weight.
“That’s just great, that’s priceless,” he muttered. “It’s so…you, to say something like that. That response proves my point completely.”
“And what point would that be?” she asked, strangely not at all offended by his behavior. If anything, she was a little concerned by his distracted, agitated manner.
“It means just what I said. That’s just the kind of thing you’d say to something inflammatory. Well good evening to you, too. Or what about, no, nothing personal, it was just a business meeting.” He shook his head as though he was exhausted by her antics, but his eyes studied her with a sharp gleam. “If that’s the way you kiss all your business associates it’s a wonder you aren’t the most popular accountant on the planet.”
The mention of that kiss finally pricked her anger, which is what he’d intended all along.
“How dare you barge in here and say something like that to me,” she said as she began to straighten the papers on her desk.
“I’d dare a hell of a lot more.”
She paused in her paper shuffling and glanced at him. He looked as lazy and uncaring as a big cat stretching in the hot summer sun. The analogy was completely apt. A big cat could turn dangerous in a heartbeat.
It took her a second to realize she’d stood up in her mounting fury and confusion.
“We do have a business arrangement. I was just stating the truth last night,” she said, her voice quavering.
“We kissed, and it was good. Really good. Now I’m just stating the truth, Natalie.”
She halted the retort on her tongue at the last second. She studied him more closely, noticing the tension in his muscles that belied his lazy pose. “What’s happened? What’s gotten into you? You didn’t come here to talk to me about…that,” she said, not wanting to utter the word kiss.
At first, he didn’t reply or move, but then his lean body uncoiled from his sitting position. He stuck one hand into a back pocket of his jeans.
Natalie stared at the folded piece of paper he tossed on her desk. She felt sick. She didn’t need to open it to know it was the check she’d written him for a retainer.
“My mother seems to be of the opinion that the reason I took this case is because I find you so attractive,” he said.
“You…you told your mother I hired you?” she asked, her queasiness mounting.
“I went to try and ask her about my dad’s behavior on the night of the crash. She’s not very happy with me at the moment.”
Compassion swelled in her breast. No wonder he seemed so out of sorts.
“I’ve been thinking about this situation all afternoon, and you know what I decided, Natalie?” He pointed at the check on her desk. “That
was making things more complicated. Not me kissing you.”
She glanced up at him cautiously. He looked a little fearsome in that moment, his face tight and eyes blazing.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you were right for calling it business last night. You paying me made this a business arrangement, just like you said. So you can keep your money.”
Yes. Of course he was right, Natalie told herself. She quashed down her intense disappointment at the thought of Liam changing his mind about the investigation and forced herself to breathe evenly.
“I understand,” she said.
“No you don’t.”
She gaped at him as he continued.
“See, my mother was right, too. A little. I didn’t take the case just because I find you attractive, but it might have been a contributing factor.”
“I don’t believe that. You took the case because your gut told you it was the right thing to do.”
He didn’t reply for a moment, but just stared at her with stormy eyes.
“I agree, in essence,” he eventually said gruffly. “That’s why I came here, to tell you I’m completing the investigation to the best of my ability, but not for money.”
“But—”
He pointed at her. “If you think I’m going to walk away now when I’m just starting to get a picture of what was happening with my dad on that night, you’re dead wrong. And I’ve got a hell of a lot more resources than any other investigator you could hire, so you’re not going to get rid of me unless you’ve decided you don’t care anymore about what happened on that night.”
“Of course I still care!”
“Fine. Then we can do this as partners. We’re two people with a common history who are looking into events that led up to a mutual family tragedy. See, this is personal to me, Natalie. Nobody can put something this personal on ice.”
He started for the door. “Liam…wait,” she said desperately. He paused and glanced around. Was it her imagination, or did she see a trace of regret on his face? “So you’re…you’re definitely going to continue with the investigation?”