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“That’s good to know.”
He stood, offering her his hand and tugging her to her feet. He linked their hands together and started leading her away from the shore, toward her home.
“Will you have breakfast with me?” he asked.
His thumb rubbed over the back of her knuckles, and tingles spread up her arm. Her nipples tightened in response to his touch and his mere proximity. She always reacted this way in his presence. If she had breakfast with him, she’d probably end up making love with him. “No.”
“Why not?” he asked, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it.
She pulled her hand from his grasp. “I’m not getting involved with you again, Kane. Maybe you shouldn’t help me with my inheritance.”
“Why not? I’m probably more qualified than some stranger you rang up on the telephone.”
“I think working with you will complicate things.”
“Things? I’m not sure I understand.”
She wanted to punch him in the arm. He frustrated her sometimes and she knew he was doing it deliberately right now. She took a deep breath, remembered that she always had to appear composed.
“I really don’t want to give Channing or Lorette a reason to take me to court.”
He took her shoulder, pulling her toward his body, wrapping one arm around her waist. He tipped her head back with his other hand, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m back in your life, and we’ll take it slowly if that’s what you want, but there is no way I’m leaving you again.”
“Kane…don’t say things like that to me.”
“I mean them.”
She couldn’t reconcile what he was saying to what he’d said when they’d parted. His words still lingered in her mind, the emotional wounds he’d inflicted only half-healed.
“No, you don’t. You told me that I was never anything more to you than a mistress, and I believed you. We don’t have a great love affair to rekindle. Ours was a business-minded relationship. You paid for my living expenses and I took care of your sexual needs. That was it.”
He cursed under his breath but didn’t let go of her. “It was never a business arrangement. Passion like ours can’t be contained in something so tame.”
Passion…one of her downfalls, if her grandfather was to be believed. Passion had a place only at her easel, where she channeled all of her rebelliousness into her art.
“Passion isn’t part of my life now, Kane. You’d do well to remember that. I’m not the woman you knew. I’ve changed and I can’t go back.”
“How many times am I going to have to pay for making you my mistress?” he asked, his accent more clipped than normal. He sounded every inch the aristocrat when he talked that way.
“It’s not about making you pay. Please, Kane, you have to leave. Go back home and forget about me.”
“You may have changed, but I haven’t. I’m still a very determined man. And you know I always get what I want.”
“Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound?”
“Yes.”
That startled a laugh out of her. Kane was still a mix of contradictions. A perfect gentleman in public and a total hedonist in private. She was so tempted to wrap herself around him and let him take her back to those carefree days in London. But she knew that she couldn’t.
Something her grandfather had said when she’d returned to Eastwick forbade that. He’d said it was time to grow up and stop running from her responsibilities. He’d reminded her she was the last Duvall. The only one to carry the mantle of her family’s legacy.
“Arrogance isn’t going to help you this time,” she said, walking away from Kane.
“Yes, it is. You need me to set up this foundation of yours. It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”
Friend. She didn’t know that they’d ever been friends. Friends shared things that she and Kane never had. They’d both played roles and lived in a world of their own making.
“Are you going to deny we were friends?” She heard the challenge in his voice.
“I’m not sure. But I will accept your offer of help. I know you’re good with investments and I need someone I can trust.”
Mary had a pounding headache after spending three hours in a conference room with her grandfather’s attorney, Max Previn, and Channing. Max was a kind, older gentleman who had tried to smooth over the animosity that Channing had brought into the room, but it had been next to impossible.
She’d explained her plans for her inheritance to the lawyer and he’d approved, with the caveat that she remember the stipulations of the will. If at any time she did anything scandalous, the money would be forfeit and she’d have to repay any amount she’d already spent. She’d put the stipulations from her mind long enough to finish the meeting and leave the office.
Mary’s car—a late-model Mercedes sedan—was parked at the curb, and she looked at that car feeling a new loathing for this life she’d been forced into. A part of her—the wild, crazy part—wanted to say the hell with it and walk away. She resented the restrictions and the instructions on how to behave that were being dictated from the grave.
But another bigger part of her mourned the baby she’d lost in childbirth, and she wanted to do what she could to ensure that no other woman ever had to live with that crushing feeling.
With her thoughts in such turmoil she couldn’t get in the car and go home yet. Instead, she walked along the sidewalk in front of a row of shops until she reached her friend Emma’s art gallery. Through the front window Mary could see Emma was with a customer, so she stayed outside. Featured in the display window was her latest print series—Paris. The series was composed of four different pieces that she’d simply titled for each of the seasons.
“Your work has really matured.”
She glanced up at Kane, surprised to see him here. He wore a black pullover and a pair of faded jeans. His hair hung rakishly over one eye and he looked way too good. The realization stung because she didn’t want to be attracted to him anymore.
“You think so? I still see room for improvement.”
“The artist is never satisfied,” he said, quoting back her own words.
Why did he remember so much of their time together? She certainly recalled those years in vivid detail, but that wasn’t surprising since she’d lived for him for so long. She’d almost refused when he’d offered to set her up as his mistress, uncomfortable with putting herself in that situation. In the end, however, the chance to be with Kane under any circumstances had stayed her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Waiting for you. I’m going to design a financial plan for your foundation, remember?”
“Of course I remember. I meant, how did you find me here?”
“I was eating lunch across the way and spotted you.”
“Oh. For a minute I thought you’d been stalking me.”
The droll look on his face made her feel just a little bit foolish. But her response to him underscored something for her. She realized, for her own sanity, she couldn’t allow Kane to get close enough to set up her foundation.
“I’ve changed my mind about accepting your help.”
“Why?”
“Channing is going to be watching me like a hawk, trying to find some kind of chink in my new behavior so that he and his family can inherit instead of me.”
“Darling, I’m the soul of discretion.”
That was true, he always had been. It was her reaction to Kane that worried her more than anything he would do. That and the secrets of their shared past—both the nature of their relationship and the truth she’d kept from him.
“You don’t understand. If they found out I was your mistress, I’d lose everything.”
“No one knows the truth except you and I,” he said quietly.
She turned away from the window as Emma finished up with her customer. She didn’t want her friend to see her with Kane in tow. She took a few steps away from the shop and he followed.
He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to him as he directed them across the street to a small park with a gazebo in the center. Underneath the shade of a large maple tree he stopped, leaning back against the trunk.
“I’m sorry, Mary.”
She was taken aback by his words. “For what?”
“For not doing things properly when we first met.”
She shook her head. She’d been over their relationship so many times and she knew that a big part of her had liked being Kane’s mistress. Had liked that her parents were outraged by it. She closed her eyes at how immature she’d been regardless of how sophisticated she’d felt.
“I think there’s plenty of blame to share,” she admitted.
He pulled her off balance and into his arms. Mary was very aware that this was her third public embrace with him and that Channing had actually witnessed the other two.
She pushed against his chest. “Let me go.”
“Not this time.”
A part of her wanted a relationship with Kane. What had started as a way to outrage her parents and to rebel had turned into love on her part. And she’d never forgotten Kane. But she wasn’t ready for the roller coaster of emotions being with him would entail. Especially now with so much at stake.
“I mean it. Let me go. If I’m seen like this, it will give them ammunition to use against me.”
“I’ll let you go on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“You let me work with you to establish the trust.”
“It would have to be strictly business. No more touching or kissing. I can’t risk it.”
“I can’t make any promises to not touch you. But I can assure you that I will do my utmost to make sure no one else witnesses it.”
“Then my answer will have to be no. Thanks, Kane.” She paused. “I know that this sounds weird, but it’s been really nice seeing you again.”
She turned to walk away, but his low voice stopped her in her tracks. “That’s not the answer I was looking for, Mary-Belle.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. He hadn’t moved from his relaxed pose against the tree. He looked every bit the brooding English lord she knew him to be.
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You won’t for long. Since you’re so concerned about keeping me a secret…I’m going to blackmail you into accepting my help.”
Three
Kane watched the blood drain from Mary’s face, saw her eyes narrow and her temper flare. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to blast him.
She took two steps toward him and then stopped abruptly, taking several deep breaths, glancing up at the leaves of the maple until she had herself under control. The mask of her composure slipped over her features and the small glimpse he’d had of the real Mary disappeared.
“Who would you tell?”
“I think I’d start with your cousins.”
“I don’t believe you,” she stated boldly.
Kane didn’t believe it himself, but he knew he couldn’t let her walk away so easily again. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and all that. “It wouldn’t be a decision I made lightly. But I’m not going to allow you to dismiss me from your life.”
“Kane, please.”
He’d heard those words from her so many different times. In the bedroom when she was begging him to touch her breasts. In that run-down flat in Paris that she’d fled to when he’d gotten engaged. And now when he was blackmailing her. He fought to keep focused on the end result: helping Mary and winning back a place in her life.
“I’m a different person now.”
“I can see that,” he said, catching a strand of her dark hair between his fingers. Her hair was still softer than silk, but now it was cut to her shoulders and straight, with none of the wild curls she used to have. It was one more thing about Mary that was so foreign to him, that he had to figure out what had caused the change.
“I want to get to know the new Mary. I’m a different man, too.”
“You still seem arrogant to me.”
“I am.”
He wanted her. He’d been in a constant state of semiarousal since he’d read her name in the newspaper. Seeing her had brought all the lust to life in him.
“So what’s it to be?” he asked.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and glanced down at the ground. After a few moments she looked up at him. “I guess you can help me.”
He felt a surge of triumph and absolutely no guilt. He wasn’t about to let anything harm Mary again. As it was, she looked a little pale and her face was drawn. He knew that the process of grieving was a hard one, and Mary didn’t seem to be taking care of herself. She was thinner than he’d ever seen her.
“Have you had lunch?”
“Um…what?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Have you eaten?” He carefully enunciated each word.
He was rewarded for his silliness with a tiny smile.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Then we’ll discuss the details of how to get started on your trust over lunch.”
