by Penny Jordan
She could see the young assistant staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had.
She weaved her way through the crowds to the sea rail that edged the wharf. Gripping it until her knuckles ached, she stared into the bay. The sun shone warm on her face, but chills shivered up her spine—a reminder of old demons she’d thought she’d conquered a long time ago.
She stood frozen in place, only jerked back to reality when Zack’s palm rested on her hip. ‘You ready to talk about it yet?’
She huffed out a breath. She might have guessed he wouldn’t give up so easily.
The slow rub of his hand radiated heat, warming her at last.
She spotted the bag he carried. ‘You bought it?’
He nodded.
She wanted to be angry with him but somehow she just felt drained. And scared. And hopeless. Because she wanted to take his gift, and she knew she shouldn’t. Zack was a rich man. A thousand dollar necklace probably didn’t mean much more to him than a spray of flowers, but it would mean so much more to her.
‘Kate, it’s just a gift,’ he said.
But it wasn’t, not to her. And if she accepted it, she’d be giving something in return she could never get back.
‘I want you to have it,’ he continued. ‘Why don’t you trust me enough to take it?’
It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s myself, Kate’s mind screamed, the plaintive cry of a tern echoing the yearning in her heart. ‘I don’t want you spending loads of money on me.’
‘Who hurt you? At least tell me that much.’
Tears burned her throat, welled in her eyes. She blinked them back, hoped he hadn’t noticed. No such luck. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. ‘Here you go.’
She sniffed, took the square of linen, inhaled his scent as she wiped her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice hitching. ‘I guess I’m still a bit tired and over-emotional.’
‘Don’t lie to me.’ He tucked a finger under her chin, lifted her face. ‘You don’t have to.’
The compassion, the understanding in his gaze was her undoing. Her lips quivered and the tears flooded over, streaming down her cheeks like a river breaking its banks.
He tugged her against him, wrapped strong arms around her and held her tight. So tight she could hear the strong, solid beat of his heart, smell the woodsy aftershave he used and the clean scent of his worn T-shirt.
She clung on, unable to deny herself his strength, his support, any longer.
Eventually, she choked back the last of her tears. His hands were rubbing her back, making her feel secure and at the same time unbearably needy. She pulled back, embarrassed by the wet spot on his chest.
‘I feel like an idiot.’ She dabbed at the moisture with the hankie. ‘I’m sorry.’
He stilled her hand, looked down at her. ‘Now will you tell me why getting a pearl necklace makes you bawl your eyes out?’
She sent him a weak smile, wiped her cheeks. ‘You must think I’m completely bonkers.’
‘Well, no woman’s ever reacted that way to a gift before.’
She gave a half-laugh. ‘I’ll bet.’
His hand rubbed a circle of warmth on her hip. ‘Talk to me, Kate.’
She sighed, looked out across the bay. Would it be so terrible to tell him this much at least? ‘My father sent me gifts. Every birthday, every Christmas, at the boarding-school he sent me to. Because he preferred me to stay there than to come home.’ She blew out an unsteady breath. ‘He called them his tokens of affection.’ She laughed, but it sounded as hollow as she felt. ‘Which is quite funny, seeing as he didn’t even like me.’
Zack felt tension knot up his spine at the misery on her face and her desperate attempts to disguise it.
She pushed her hair back. ‘You see how pathetic I am. I’m twenty-seven and I’m still obsessing about the fact that my daddy didn’t love me.’
‘How did you know he didn’t love you?’
She leaned back against the rail, balled his handkerchief in her fist. ‘Honestly, Zack. You don’t really want to hear all this do you?’
‘Hey, you know all about my miserable childhood,’ he said, struggling to keep his voice light and undemanding.
She heaved a heavy sigh. ‘I knew he didn’t love me, because he told me.’
‘You’re kidding.’ He couldn’t hide his astonishment.
She gave a weak laugh. ‘No, I’m not. He never wanted me. When I had to go and live with him, he made it clear I wasn’t welcome and sent me straight off to boarding-school.’
‘Why did you have to live with him?’ he prompted.
She jerked a shoulder. ‘When I was thirteen, my mum died and…’ she paused, quickly masking the flash of anguish, of grief ‘…there was no one else. I hardly knew my father. He’d visited us over the years, to see my mother, but he’d never shown the slightest bit of interest in me.’
How could any father be uninterested in such a beautiful, vibrant young woman? Zack wondered, but didn’t say so. He’d already figured there was a lot about her parents’ relationship she wasn’t saying.
‘How did you feel about him?’ he asked carefully.
I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to need me, Kate thought, but stopped herself from saying it. It would make her seem even more pathetic. She couldn’t bear to let Zack know how little protection she had once had. Not now, when her defences were so low again.
‘We were strangers. I didn’t really feel anything for him.’ Or at least she’d tried hard not to. ‘By the time I was seventeen I’d finally figured out that would never change.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I left school and never saw him again.’ She held on tight to the sea rail. The surf rippled lazily in the bay, the seagulls wheeled above, ready to swoop on any unwary fish, but all she could see was her father’s uninterested face telling her he didn’t care what she did.
‘So that’s why you’re such a pain in the butt about your independence,’ Zack said beside her, making her smile.
‘Yes, it’s very important to me. And that’s why I don’t like accepting gifts. Because there are usually strings attached.’
She thought she’d made her point, and convinced herself to stick to her guns. But when she saw the determination in his eyes she wasn’t so sure.
‘There are no strings attached here, Kate. You’ll have to trust me on that. Just tell me one thing. Do you like the necklace?’
She shuddered out a breath. ‘Yes, I do.’ He reached into the gift bag, but she grasped his wrist, stopped his hand. ‘Let me tell you another story from my childhood, Zack.’ At least this one wasn’t so raw, so revealing. ‘When I was ten, I found a baby kitten in the gutter outside our mews cottage in Chelsea. I begged and begged my mother to let me keep it, and eventually she gave in.’
‘So that pout was lethal even then,’ he murmured, bending his head to give her a fleeting kiss.
She eased him back. ‘The cat was feral. It shredded my mum’s antique furniture, bit me so badly I had to have a tetanus shot and then ran off after a week.’
Zack chuckled. ‘I won’t bite you, I swear. Not unless you want me to.’
Kate huffed, charmed despite herself. ‘For goodness’ sake. Can’t you see what I’m trying to say? This thing we’ve got is going exactly nowhere. We both know that. I don’t want to accept your gifts. I don’t want to need them.’ Or you, she thought silently. Please don’t make me need you.
Zack stroked his open palm down her hair, brushing the wayward wisps behind her ear. The gesture carried a tenderness that made Kate’s heart plummet in her chest. This was just what she was afraid of. With one look, one touch, one simple gesture, he could shatter her defences. Make her want things she could never have. She couldn’t risk offering her heart to another man who didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. It could very well destroy her.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he placed a finger on her lips. ‘Shh.’
The kiss was s
oft and gentle and only frightened her more. A fresh tear streaked down her cheek. He lifted it off with his thumb. ‘You know what? If that kitten had stuck around it would have found out what it was missing.’
‘But…’ She tried to stop her heart from plummeting even further, but she was very much afraid it was already in free fall.
‘But nothing,’ he said. ‘I’m not making any guarantees. This is as new to me as it is to you. But it feels right at the moment and it feels good. I say we see where it takes us and enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.’
When they made love that night, Kate let Zack fasten the pearls round her neck. She could feel the weight of them, cool and heavy against her fevered flesh, symbolising much more than they should as Zack brought her to a staggering orgasm.
As she lay anchored in his arms, listening to his slow, steady breathing and inhaling the musky scent of recent passion, Kate realised she no longer had the will to even try to pull out of his embrace.
And she hadn’t managed to get him to talk about Hal as he’d promised. But as she drifted off to sleep she knew she couldn’t afford to worry about Hal’s heart any more; she was going to be too busy trying to protect her own. Even though she was afraid it was already far too late.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘THE GRANGE IS YOURS, young man.’ Harold Westchester put the pen down on his desk and stood up to shake Zack’s hand. ‘Feels damn strange, thirty years of my life, gone in a single signature.’
‘You drove a hard bargain,’ Zack said, letting go of the old man’s hand. Kate noticed the way his eyes didn’t quite meet Hal’s. ‘The Grange is in safe hands,’ he continued. ‘We’ll honour its tradition of good service and honest hospitality.’
Hal nodded. ‘I know you will. You know, despite your past I think you’re a man I can trust.’
Zack’s eyebrow lifted. ‘My past?’
‘As I told Kate—’ Hal inclined his head towards her ‘—I’ve never been real keen on gamblers.’ He sighed and sat down. ‘And I always had this dream I’d be able to hand the resort over to my son some day.’
Zack shifted in his seat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘I didn’t know you had children,’ he said carefully.
This was much harder for him than he’d anticipated, Kate realised. Her heart went out to him, even though she knew it shouldn’t. Couldn’t he see he had to tell Hal the truth?
‘I don’t, not really.’ The absent smile that wrinkled Hal’s lips seemed desperately sad to Kate. ‘There was a boy once. He was like a son to Mary and I. He couldn’t stay, but I always had this dumb notion he’d come back one day.’
Zack tensed. Kate reached across and covered the clenched fist in his lap with her hand. His eyes whipped to hers.
Tell him. She shouted the words in her mind, willing him to understand. To her surprise, he turned his hand over in hers and held on. Then he looked at Hal.
‘He did come back,’ he murmured.
A lump of emotion formed in Kate’s throat.
Hal’s eyes fixed on Zack’s face. He inclined his head. ‘What did you say?’
‘He did come back,’ Zack said, louder this time. He let go of Kate’s hand. ‘I’m the kid you’re talking about.’
‘Damn.’ Hal’s eyes glazed with shock. ‘I knew there was something about you. It bothered me right from the first time we met.’ He searched Zack’s face. ‘You are. You’re my Billy,’ he said, finishing on a note of astonished wonder.
Zack scraped the chair back and stood up. ‘I’ve got to go.’ He gave a stiff nod and headed for the door.
Hal’s shout stopped him in his tracks. ‘Don’t you run out on me, Billy. Not again.’
Zack’s hand fisted on the door handle, but he didn’t turn it. He rested his forehead on the wood, the air whooshing out of his lungs. ‘I’m not Billy,’ he said on a broken whisper. ‘I never really was.’
‘Of course you are.’ A huge smile bloomed on Hal’s face as he walked over to Zack. Kate gulped down tears. ‘You should have told me who you were two years ago, son.’ Hal chuckled. ‘I would have given you the damn resort for nothing.’
Hal rested a gnarled hand on Zack’s back. A tear spilled over Kate’s lid as she saw Zack stiffen. ‘I don’t want it for nothing,’ he muttered, the sound muffled against the door. ‘I don’t deserve it.’ Finally he turned and Kate could see the remorse in his eyes. ‘I should have contacted you years ago. To say I’m sorry. But I was too much of a coward.’ His shoulder hitched. ‘I guess I’m not as different from my old man as I thought.’
‘You were never like him,’ Hal said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘And what have you got to be sorry about anyway?’
Zack gave his head a bitter shake. ‘I hurt you. And Mary. I didn’t mean to.’
Hal rested his hands on Zack’s shoulders. ‘You were a child and we loved you. What happened was never your fault.’ So saying, he pulled Zack into a manly hug.
Zack’s shoulders softened as he accepted the older man’s embrace and Kate felt a lone teardrop run down her cheek. She wiped it away and bit her lip hard to stop herself from bursting into tears. Goodness, she’d cried more in the last few days than she had in years. She pushed the thought away, unwilling to analyse why Zack’s actions had touched her so deeply. She had no real stake in this relationship, this reunion. Why did it feel as if she did?
Zack heaved a shuddering breath. Hal didn’t hate him. The relief was so huge it made his knees feel a little shaky.
The scent of peppermint and sea salt—so different from the smell of cigarettes and whiskey that had always clung to Jean-Pierre—propelled Zack back to those few brief months in his childhood when he’d felt truly happy, truly secure. As Hal continued to hold him, to pat his back, the knot of guilt, of anger, that had been lodged inside him for more than two decades finally began to unravel.
Hal stepped back, patted Zack’s arms one more time, then let go. His gaze roamed over him. ‘You sure are a heck of a lot taller than I remember.’
Zack laughed. ‘I grew,’ he said, realising that his palms, which had been clammy with sweat moments before, were dry.
‘I should leave you two alone,’ Kate said, gently.
Zack looked past Hal to see her standing by the desk, tears shimmering on her lids. She walked to them and he took her hand, linking his fingers with hers. ‘You don’t have to,’ he said.
She was the one who’d made this possible. If she hadn’t come to California with him, he never would have got up the guts to tell Hal the truth.
‘You guys have a lot of catching up to do,’ she said, a smile of reassurance brightening her face. ‘I’ll be at the cottage if you need me.’
She released his hand and spoke to Hal. ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you who Zack was, but I couldn’t break a confidence. I hope you can forgive me.’
The old man beamed back at her. ‘No forgiveness necessary,’ he said, lifting her hand to his lips.
Zack watched her leave the room. She’d be at the cottage if he needed her. It scared him to realise how much that meant.
‘That’s one beautiful woman, inside and out,’ Hal said as the door closed behind Kate. ‘She reminds me of Mary. She’ll make some lucky man a fine wife one day.’
The bubble of contentment burst inside him. He didn’t want to think of Kate belonging to anyone else.
‘Let’s sit down, son,’ Hal said, directing him to two armchairs on the far side of his office. ‘These old bones aren’t as spry as they used to be,’ he remarked, settling slowly into one of the chairs.
Zack sat in the other.
Hal chuckled. ‘Boy, but it’s good to see you.’ He thumped Zack’s knee. ‘You’ve really made something of yourself. I’m proud of you.’ The words pleased Zack more than he wanted to admit. ‘And Kate’s a treasure.’
Zack’s mood faltered. He didn’t want to talk about Kate.
‘I’m surprised a good-looking young fella like you hasn’t snapped her up.
And not as your PA,’ Hal continued, giving Zack a wistful smile. ‘Why, if I was thirty years younger, I’d—’
‘She’s not just my PA,’ Zack blurted out.
Hal’s smile faded. ‘You’re dating her?’ He gave Zack a sober look.
‘Yeah, I guess.’ Although Zack figured ‘dating’ was too tame a term to describe what he and Kate had been doing.
‘But she works for you.’ Hal shook his head.
Where had that accusatory look come from? Zack wondered.
‘You disappoint me,’ Hal added. ‘Sounds to me like you’re taking advantage of her.’
Zack shifted, feeling as if he were seated on an iron bar instead of the well-stuffed cushion. ‘No, I’m not,’ he said. Then the image of Kate’s expression yesterday—vulnerable and scared, when she’d tried to refuse the necklace—slithered across Zack’s memory. Why were his palms sweating again? He rubbed them on his trousers. ‘The attraction is mutual.’
‘You’re her boss, son,’ Hal said firmly. ‘You have sex with her, you’re taking advantage. However mutual the attraction.’
Zack’s blood pressure spiked. ‘It’s not like that. It’s not just sex,’ he said, not sure why he was justifying himself.
‘You saying you’re in love with her?’
The muscles in Zack’s spine went rigid, his palms got even damper and his pulse zipped into overdrive. ‘I…’ He hesitated, had to force the denial out. ‘I never said that.’
Hal frowned. ‘It’s either love or it’s just sex, Billy, there is no in between.’
‘My name’s Zack,’ he snapped, feeling cornered.
‘You’ll have to forgive an old man,’ Hal replied, unfazed by Zack’s show of temper. ‘You’ll always be Billy to me.’ Hal’s eyes softened. ‘So what is it?’