The Way They Were (12 page)

“Mr. Flannigan would not like being the subject of dinner conversation between two thirteen year olds.” Maxine dabbed at the corner of her thin lips with a paper napkin. “You would be best served to change the subject.”

“Oh, Maxie, loosen up. Rourke’s not going to fire you. Heck, you’re the only woman he trusts.”

Why doesn’t Rourke trust women?

Edmund Dupree III sat on the same couch that Rourke had occupied less than twenty-four hours ago. As the third partner of Angston, Jefferson, & Dupree, he was a small, wiry man with sharp blue eyes, a silver crew cut and a presence that belied his diminutive stature. When Mr. Dupree spoke, his voice resonated with perfect pitch and diction as though he were on stage. He’d just informed Kate that her advisor had underestimated Angston, Jefferson, & Dupree and had neglected to factor in the most important issue—reasonable doubt.

“Your source has not considered all available options, Mrs. Maden. Perhaps he is not well-informed in the areas of law?”

Kate poured Mr. Dupree coffee from a porcelain pot that had belonged to Clay’s great grandmother. “I only turned to this gentleman as another opinion. Certainly, I don’t consider him an expert.”

She clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting. There’d been so many lawyers calling after her mother’s accident, twisting and contriving Kate’s words until they hadn’t even sounded like her own. “I don’t want to sit in a courtroom and listen to a judge tell me Clay was negligent.”

“I understand, Mrs. Maden. I’m not about to put you in a position such as that.”

“You’re sure?”

His blue eyes pierced her with cool calculation. “This case will never go to court.” A small smile crept over Edmund Dupree’s thin face. “We’ll threaten a media blitz; photos of you and your husband, your daughter, maybe even talk shows and newspaper articles citing the devastation your husband’s loss has wrought on you and your daughter. The economic loss, the physical loss, the emotional loss.” His words sparked with certainty. “Reese Construction won’t want the publicity. They’ll be glad to pay you to keep quiet.”

“So basically, I’d be bribing them?”

Edmund Dupree’s expression remained placid. “Think of it as forcing them to do right. If it takes polite, friendly, persuasion, so be it.”

Kate relaxed her hands. She was doing this for Clay, and for Julia. Maybe Rourke was wrong. Maybe Reese Construction was ultimately responsible, accident or not.

“Now, I’d like to talk numbers.” Edmund Dupree flipped a page on his legal pad and began writing. “I know we’ve bandied a few figures about, but let’s try to find something concrete. What do you think of four million?”

“Four million?” They’d talked about a number that large but still, to actually ask for
four million dollars?

“This is only a holding company, Mrs. Maden. We go for the parent company and we’ve hit the mother lode.”

She owed it to Clay and Julia. “Okay.”

“I would advise you against sharing any further information with your friend. One can never be too careful, especially where millions of dollars are concerned.”

She wanted to tell him that Rourke Flannigan was a fourteen-year aberration who landed in Montpelier last week and would be gone before the case was settled. The thought of him leaving started a sharp twinge in her stomach which she blamed on too many cups of coffee. But later that night, when the twinge became a dull ache throbbing through her, she knew Rourke was behind the pain. Just like he’d always been.

Chapter 14

“
It doesn’t thrill me to admit it any more than it thrills you to hear it.”—Rourke Flannigan

Rourke found Kate at Sophie’s Diner the next morning, attacking a plate of waffles mounded with strawberries and swirls of whipped cream. “I guess you plan on rolling out of here, huh?” She stopped chewing and looked up. A flush of pink smeared her face and a syrupy sheen coated her lips. Right now he’d sign over controlling interest of the company for one taste. He slid into the booth opposite her and gestured toward her plate. “Don’t stop on my account.”

She set down her fork and pushed the plate away. “I’m full.”

Rourke snatched up the fork and slid the plate closer. “Good, because I’m starved.” He pierced a hunk of waffle and strawberry and plunked it in his mouth. Her lips had touched this fork. He speared another chunk of waffle. Her tongue had slid over the tines.

He glanced down at the near empty plate which seconds ago had been smothered with waffles and strawberries. He threw her a haphazard grin. “I guess I
was
hungry.”
Hungry with thoughts of your mouth and your tongue.

She looked away. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Christ, he
had
hurt her yesterday. He set down the fork and steadied his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Julia…and what you thought.”

“You mean that I might be her father?”

She shot him a mortified look. “Quiet. If you speak any louder you’ll be reading about it in next week’s
Gazette
.”

He lowered his voice. “Is that what you’re referring to?”

She nodded.

“Go on.”
Here it comes. Julia’s your daughter.
The thought had him gasping for air. He had a child. With Kate. No wonder he’d never been able to let her go. They belonged together…

“Julia’s not your child.”

The words clogged his brain. “Julia’s not my child.” Was that disappointment in his voice? Or disbelief? Right now, he couldn’t say.

“No, she’s not. I know I told you this yesterday, but you deserved more of an explanation.” She licked her lips. “Apparently, my biological father had black hair and gray eyes.”

He merely stared at her, trying to discern the truth.

“As you know, my mother was not always very forthcoming with information.”

“I seem to recall she had a penchant for that sort of thing.” He did not even want to think about Georgeanne Redmond and her vodka-soaked brain.

“After the accident, she finally told me his identity.” Kate’s eyes misted. “His name was Carter. She met him the summer she waitressed at Lake Chautauqua. His family owned a cottage there.” Her voice wobbled. “She said they wanted to get married but his parents had other plans. When summer ended he went back to law school and she came home. Eight months later I was born.”

“Let me guess, she never heard from him again.”

“Pretty much. The first time she saw you she said you reminded her of someone. It had to be him.”

If this were a business deal, he’d have his attorneys confirm the facts and check the timeline. But this was Kate and she was so much more than a business deal. When the first tear fell, he forgot about doubting her story. When the second followed, he could think of nothing but making the tears stop. He reached across the table and clutched her hand. She didn’t pull away when he turned her palm upward and stroked her soft flesh. Instead, she shivered.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

Ahhh. Was that a speck of jealousy?
“She’s not my girlfriend and she’s on her way back to Chicago.” Of course she’d tried to coo and fawn her way into an invitation to stay, but the attempts had been futile.

“I see.”

“What does that mean?” Code talk for
I’ve already analyzed the situation
.

“Oh, for Chrissake.” At least the tears were gone. Where was the sweet, young Kate who had once watched him with reverent awe? She shook her dark head and despite his annoyance, he wanted to bury his hands in the swirl of silky hair.

“Just the truth, Rourke. Can you give me that?”

He met her gaze and everything else fell away. She was so damn beautiful and she didn’t even know it. Maybe that’s what added to her beauty, the unaffectedness with which she moved and spoke and lived her life. Hollywood could take lessons from Kate, but they’d never match her. “I’ll tell you the truth.” He’d spent years trying to forget her, only to realize he never would. He had to speak before the words disappeared from consciousness.

“Janice is a beautiful woman, but she’s not you.” Her eyes glittered and he thought the tears would start again.

“Please, don’t say that.”

“Why, because it’s the truth? Isn’t that what you asked for? Well, there it is, uncoated and I’m sure unwanted. It doesn’t thrill me to admit it any more than it thrills you to hear it.”

“You,” he said simply. “Spread out on my bed, naked, under me…on top of me.” He stroked the fleshy part of her palm. “All over me.”

She eased her hand from his. “It’s not that simple. We can’t let yesterday happen again.”

“If yesterday happens again, I’m contacting a doctor.” He cleared his throat. “I went from zero to blastoff in two seconds and that’s never happened before.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” He liked the way she fidgeted when he talked sex with her, as though she didn’t want to remember but couldn’t forget.

“Just that we can’t,” she faltered, started again, “we can’t do that. Again.” Her gaze flitted across the table and landed on the napkin holder. “It would only end badly.”

Rourke leaned forward and pressed his hands flat on the table. “You can’t believe that. We’re not kids this time, Kate. It can only end the way we want it to.”

The blush deepened and she dragged her gaze to his. “I don’t think straight when I’m around you. We didn’t use any protection. How ridiculously stupid is that?”

“Very. I’m sorry.” And then, “Is there a reason to be concerned?”

Her blue eyes turned dark. “Damn right there’s a reason to worry. I don’t want to end up with an STD or HIV.”

“I meant pregnancy.”
What the hell kind of traveling disease fest did she think he was?

“Lower your voice.” She leaned across the table and hissed with the ferocity of a she-cat, “I just finished my period and I’m not ovulating. Now do you understand?”

Her nostrils flared and he thought she might spring across the table and go for his throat—or another part of his anatomy. “A sexually transmitted disease, you big oaf.”

Rourke cocked his head to one side, considering her question. She really was adorable when she played feisty witch. What would she look like angry
and
naked? “It’s not a concern.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you don’t need to be worried about it.”
Angry, naked, and panting beneath him.

“You are truly trying my patience. Let me rephrase that. I always use a condom
unless
I’m with you.
Then
I seem to lose my senses.” She looked pleased with that confession.

Rourke shook her hand but when she tried to release her grip, he held firm. “Come to my bed, Kate. Let me show you how good it can be.” She licked her lips. Twice. He remembered the taste of those lips.