by Francis Ray
Stalking across the living room, he jerked the front door open. Seeing his business partner didn’t take the sting out of Kane’s words. “You better have a hell of a good reason for disturbing me.”
William Conrad, who had never been the object of the full force of Kane’s anger, stepped back. Mouth agape, his cigar teetered precariously between his teeth.
“Spit it out,” Kane demanded. “You were anxious enough a moment ago.”
“Kane, if you’d stop yelling at the poor man perhaps he could tell you what you want to know.”
Kane glanced over his shoulder to see Victoria at the foot of the stairs, her hair softly mussed, her face flushed and beautiful. Her red knit dress clung to every glorious inch of her fantastic body and reminded him of the lacy undergarments he had almost removed before . . . He whirled back to their unwanted guest.
“I’m waiting, William.”
Apparently, the reprieve had been enough time for William to regain his composure. “After the decision was made to go into men’s skin care you said you wanted to make some changes in the marketing strategy and that you’d get back to me. The press conference is tomorrow to announce the start of Cinnamon II, and I wanted to know all the facts before then.”
“Didn’t I tell you last week that I needed to check out a few details and I’d get back to you before the press conference?”
“Yes, but—”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No, but—”
“Been late with a report?”
“No, but you’ve never been married before either,” William said in a rush.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Victoria smiled sweetly as she stepped between the two men. “I’m Victoria Taggart and you must be William Conrad, Kane’s partner.”
William appeared dazed by the beautiful woman standing before him. It took him a couple of seconds to notice her extended hand. “Hello, Mrs. Taggart. You’re lovelier than your picture.”
Something that sounded suspiciously like a growl came from Kane. William snatched his hand back.
“Mr. Conrad, you must know that Kane is as dependable as the sunrise,” she chided gently. “You can’t have worked with him all these years and not learned how trustworthy and responsible he is. If he said he’d have the report to you, he’ll have it to you.”
The tension eased out of Kane. His wife was defending him again. It was almost worth William’s interruption. Almost.
“I suppose,” William admitted grudgingly. “My wife calls me a worrier. I like to know where I’m going.”
“In other words, you like being in control, and you’ve found out you can’t control Kane,” Victoria guessed.
William’s startled gaze flew up to Kane.
“I’ve known you were that way since our first meeting,” Kane told him. “But in taking me on as a partner, you showed me you wouldn’t put your personal feelings above the company’s. You were also willing to work as hard or harder than I was in saving Cinnamon. You didn’t sit around crying and feeling sorry for yourself. If you had, I would have walked away even if you had offered me twice the percentage at half the price. I don’t have any patience for people who won’t help themselves. You were then and you still are, a valuable asset to the company.”
Once again, William appeared stunned. “You’ve never told me this before.”
“I don’t like explaining myself,” Kane told him.
Victoria stared up into her husband’s face and recalled all the times he had patiently explained things to her. She was married to a very special man. He almost made her believe in happily ever after.
William extended his hand, the lines of worry around his eyes gone. “Thanks, Kane. Sorry I disturbed you. It won’t happen again.”
The older man’s hand disappeared into Kane’s larger, stronger one. He decided to be as gracious as his partner. “I’ve already taken care of the changes I wanted, including reserving advertising space in newspapers and magazines for December, talked to a photographer about giving the layout a more outdoor feel, and started searching for another male model who doesn’t look as if he hasn’t started shaving yet.”
“Why didn’t . . .” William smiled and shook his graying head. “I almost forgot you don’t like explaining yourself. In this case I can guess. Since you left, I’ve become more demanding. You wanted me to get the message that you won’t be pushed.”
Kane glanced down into Victoria’s upturned face. “Only one person can do that.”
“Kane likes for people to trust him,” Victoria said.
Once again William’s gaze went from Kane to Victoria. “It won’t happen again.” He went briskly down the steps.
As soon as he got inside his car, Kane closed the front door and picked Victoria up. “I thought I told you to stay put.”
Victoria wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. “You don’t sound as if I can make you do anything.”
Kane’s lips found hers. The kiss was hot, quick and deep. He lifted his head and waited until her eyelids drifted upward. “You make me burn, Tory. You make me fight for control each time I take you in my arms.”
Her trembling fingers touched the hard line of his jaw. “You make me feel the same way.”
His black eyes blazed. He started for the stairs at a fast clip, carrying her as if she were as weightless as a shadow. The soft outline of her body against his chest proclaimed she was a flesh-and-blood woman. His woman. Nudging the bedroom door open with his shoulder, he sat her down and drew her dress over her head in one coordinated movement.
“Don’t think I’m easy because I decided to let you have your way with me,” she said, and pushed his shirt down his muscular arms.
“If you hadn’t, I probably would have kidnapped you.” He laid her in the bed, then stripped out of his jeans and undershorts.
With unabashed pride and longing Victoria stared at Kane’s powerful, naked body. He was superb in every breathtaking detail. He had taught her so much, given her so much. She didn’t know she could be this happy. “You would have made a magnificent knight.”
Kane came down on the bed and gathered her into his arms. “Only if you were the prize.”
“Words.” Victoria licked the hard brown nub of his nipple and smiled at his groan. “I’d like to see some action.”
His hands closed over her lace clad breasts, and when they lifted, the fragile scrap of material was gone. His head bent. “Your wish is my command.”
The following days were filled with revelations for Victoria. No longer did she try to analyze her emotions. She reacted on impulse and continued to be rewarded with more happiness than she had experienced in her entire lifetime. To her added pleasure, she quickly discovered, she couldn’t have been more wrong in telling Kane she didn’t want whispers of sweet nothings. She unashamedly relished every sensual promise he made . . . and its fulfillment. One night after dinner, she told him as much. He smiled like a conquering knight, swept her into his arms and took her to bed. The next day, Bonnie and Clair Benson took credit for the glow in Victoria’s face.
Bonnie she teased about no longer being afraid of getting an arrow in her back. Her grandmother she let think what she would. Victoria knew Kane deserved the real credit. At Addie’s graduation, she and Kane were never more than a few feet apart. Relatives of Kane’s she hadn’t met gave Victoria as many hugs and congratulations as they did the graduate.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kane this happy.”
Victoria turned to see Matt standing beside her, but his gaze was on Kane taking a picture of Addie in her cap and gown, with their parents. “He might not have been if you hadn’t set me stra—”
“Forget it,” Matt interrupted, his eyes finally coming back to her. “Just keep him happy.”
Victoria frowned at the odd inflection of his voice. “Was that a threat or a command?”
“Both,” he said, and walked over to drape an arm around Addie’s shoulders
.
“What was that all about?”
Startled, Victoria glanced around to see Bonnie. “He’s afraid I might hurt Kane. I wouldn’t do that.”
“I hate to bring this up, but what are you going to do when your time together is up?”
The question was one Victoria had refused to let herself think about. “I don’t know, but I’m not going to hurt Kane.”
Uneasiness crept into Bonnie’s expression. “If you leave, I don’t see how you’re going to be able to avoid it . . . for either of you.”
Chapter 13
Thirteen days. Thirteen days were left of the three months she had agreed to spend with Kane. It seemed rather prophetic that she and Kane had eloped with thirteen days left on the deadline her grandmother had given her. She had known what to do then. She wished she knew what to do now.
At least she wasn’t still hung up on her hatred of Stephen. The previous night in Dallas, at a performance by the Black Dance Theatre benefiting the Museum of African-American Life and Culture, she had looked up during intermission and seen her ex-husband. Seeing her, Stephen almost ran from the lobby of the Majestic Theatre.
Instead of rage, she felt sadness that she had wasted so much time hating. She had glanced up at Kane and wanted to be home and in bed with her husband. She whispered her own sensual promise in his ear. Hand in hand they quickly left the theatre.
A secret smile on her face, she leaned back in her chair and looked around her office. For once, it was free of the usual clutter of shipping boxes, lingerie, freestanding racks, mannequins, props, and an odd assortment of other things. Kane had “organized” things for her. She would have gotten around to it before the big summer sale, but he seemed to enjoy helping her.
Men and women customers certainly liked having him around. They weren’t bashful about asking his opinion, and with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he had been quick to point out his preference. Sales had soared. Customers had actually been disappointed that morning to learn he wasn’t coming in.
Victoria couldn’t blame them; she didn’t want to think of a day without seeing Kane. Each minute she spent with him, she wanted a hundred more. She was actually looking forward to his college reunion the following weekend. Yet she wasn’t so naive to think that the first bloom of passion would last forever. There had better be something to take its place. She smiled to herself. Passion wasn’t so bad, for the time being.
* * *
An hour later, Victoria pulled up in front of the ranch house. Grabbing a bag of groceries in one hand and a picnic basket in the other, she went inside. She had two hours before Kane expected her home. She was going to surprise him with a picnic, and herself. Laughing at her own boldness, she set the bags on the counter.
The sound of an automobile pulling up outside had her rushing to the window. At the sight of a red truck, her shoulders sagged in relief. She went back outside.
A middle-aged man climbed out of the pickup and tipped his straw hat off his balding gray head. “Evening, Mrs. Taggart. I’m Nate Hinson.”
“Have we met before?”
“Not in person.” He smiled at her confusion. “Kane came into my antique shop about eight years ago and we hit it off right away. I’ve been out here too many times to count with deliveries. One time he showed me a beautiful, hand-carved cradle. Seems it had been handed down through his mother’s family, and she insisted, as the oldest, he keep it. Kane showed me a picture of a pretty young woman about two years ago and told me she’d either be the mother of his child or he wouldn’t have one.”
“Kane showed you a picture and a cradle?”
“That he did,” Mr. Hinson repeated. “The refinishing job on the cradle is one of the best I’ve ever seen. He put a lot of love into that job. Used to keep it in his workshop covered up and waiting. There’s not a person around who isn’t happy for him getting married. We sure would have liked to have been there to see it.”
Kane had refinished a cradle for another woman. Pain ripped through her. Only years of training kept her upright and helped Victoria to mumble, “I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you go apologizing. We are all fond of that husband of yours. Everyone around knows what a good man he is and how much he loves kids.” Mr. Hinson shook his head. “If you need help with a project with kids, just ask Kane.”
She pressed her hand against her empty womb. “Yes.”
“Nice seeing good things happen to a good man like Kane.” Hinson glanced around the well-tended yard and the painted buildings beyond. “This place was going to seed until Kane bought it. That barn had a hole in it as big as my truck, and this house hadn’t had a coat of paint on it in years. Good thing it was built to last. Never saw a man so good at turning throwaways into something worthwhile.”
Victoria thought of herself: thrown away by Stephen and refurbished by Kane—but she was just a substitute.
“Here I am running on and you probably need to be getting on with supper. I saw this rocker at an estate sale yesterday and thought of Kane and the cradle.” Unhooking the tailgate of the truck, he unloaded the high-backed mahogany rocker and set it down on the porch. “When I saw Kane in town a couple of weeks back I asked him if you were the one in the picture and he just grinned. Never seen a man so happy or proud.”
Victoria’s gaze clung to the rocker. Her throat clogged. Tears stung her eyes.
“It’s my wedding gift to you and Kane. I better be going. The way those clouds are rolling in, it looks like we might have a bit of a storm.” Closing the tailgate, he got inside the vehicle. “Good day, Mrs. Taggart.”
The instant the door closed, Victoria tore down the steps and around the house to Kane’s work-shed. It took less than a minute for her to locate the small object, covered by the type of protective padding movers use. Her hand trembled as she lifted the cover.
A cradle. Not a speck of dust touched the gleaming mahogany surface.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Kane might have wanted a substitute wife, but not a substitute mother for his children. He still loved another woman. Agony rolled over her in waves. Somehow, she managed to stand. She had one thought: to leave before Kane came back. It wasn’t his fault she had played her part too well. She hadn’t realized until that agonizing moment that she had confused passion with love. She loved Kane.
Her fingers clamped and unclamped on the smooth wooden surface of the cradle. Wearily, she turned, took a step, and came to an abrupt halt. Kane filled the doorway.
Pain and misery washed over her. And the one person in the world who she would have run to for consolation was the person who had caused her such pain.
“Honey, come inside and let’s talk.”
She watched him move closer and lift his hand toward her face. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.”
Anguish ripped through Kane’s gut. Having Victoria recoil from him now was worse than anything he had ever experienced. He had met Hinson a mile from the ranch. At the mention of the cradle and rocker, Kane had gunned his truck. It had taken less than five minutes to reach her, but he was too late. Victoria might want his body, but not his baby.
“Things can be as they were before. Forget about the cradle,” Kane told her, aware of the pleading note in his voice and unable to do anything about it.
Victoria flinched. She looked at the man she loved. Big, brawny, and gentle, he still had the power to make her knees weak. If she thought there was a chance for him to forget about the other woman, she might stay. But two years and a cradle were too much to fight. She walked past Kane as if he didn’t exist.
She knew he followed her inside the house and up the stairs. There was nothing she could do about that now. All her concentration was on getting her car keys and going someplace to nurse her pain in private. She was paying the price for caring, for being vulnerable.
“You’re not leaving.”
She opened her mouth, felt the sting in her throat and in her eyes. Her hands clamped on the keys. Closing her eyes, she said one word, �
��Please.”
“No. You have thirteen days before the bargain is over and you’re not going anyplace,” Kane told her.
Her lids lifted. She saw the tortured look on his face, a look she was sure mirrored her own. No matter what, she was sure of one thing: Kane hadn’t meant to hurt her. “I can’t stay here.”
He stepped toward her. “Tory.”
“Don’t.” She bit her lip to keep from crying. “Just let it end.”
“You owe me thirteen days, and unless you’re ready to let your grandmother in on why we got married, you’re not going anyplace,” Kane warned, his voice as expressionless as his face.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
Victoria took one look at his unyielding face and knew he spoke the truth. Kane didn’t bluff. “Why do you want me to stay?”
“You haven’t stopped running from life. Maybe in the time left you’ll learn not to,” Kane told her.
Any hope left within her died. Kane didn’t want her to stay because he loved her. He was right about one thing—she was too cowardly to stay and see kindness instead of love. “Call her.”
Shock rippled across his face. “You don’t mean that?”
“I’m leaving.”
“You hate me that much?” he said incredulously.
She wanted to shout that she loved him that much, but she couldn’t. She was afraid that if she did, she’d fling herself into his arms. At least she’d leave with her pride intact.
Narrowed black eyes studied Victoria’s determined face for a long moment. “There’s a thunderstorm blowing in. Give me your car keys. I’ll drive you.”
Kane’s voice sounded as bleak as he looked. Victoria dropped the keys in his outstretched hands. Both of them were at the end of their rope.
Inside the car, she watched the approaching storm and wished the thunder would drown out her thoughts. Kane wanted a woman he couldn’t have. She wanted Kane. She bit her lip to keep from crying out or worse, turning to him and asking why he couldn’t love her. Blinking back tears, she huddled against the door.