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Something in his tone made suspicion flicker in her. “Oh...I see. The infamous private investigator told you.” She shook her head, feeling more exhausted than angry when his level gaze confirmed the truth of her words.
“You left me little choice but to have him gather all the details of your history,” Nick admitted. “You refused to talk to me about your past or tell me anything about you.”
She bit her lower lip, repressing her typical urge to tell him her life was none of his business. The words sounded thin and hollow tonight. “I’m a little tired. It’s been a long day,” she said.
“You should eat. Why don’t you let me take you out to dinner? Or we could order in.”
“No,” she said too abruptly. She blushed and hurried to cover her rudeness. “I...I mean, I really couldn’t eat much more. I’m stuffed from a big brunch at Jake’s Place.”
“Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night, then?”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “You just don’t quit, do you?”
“I told you I was determined.”
“Determined to investigate my character and motives, or to fulfill Lincoln’s wishes?” she murmured quietly.
“There’s no reason I can’t do both at once,” Nick said before he strode toward the kitchen. Deidre followed. While he was putting on his coat, he added, “I’ll bring you a copy of the will when we have dinner tomorrow.”
“Is it possible to get two copies? I want my brother Marc to look it over. He’s an attorney. You could drop his copy off at the Starling Hotel front desk, if it’ll make things easier for you. Marc and his family are staying there, too.”
He nodded. She struggled to interpret his expression when he didn’t move.
“I probably should admit something.”
“What?” she asked.
“I’m here at Lincoln’s request and because I need to understand better why Lincoln changed his will. But aside from that...I’m glad to have the opportunity to get to know you better.”
She just stared at him with her mouth partially open, too amazed to speak. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Unless he was testing her again—
“Get a good night’s sleep,” he said, interrupting her confused thoughts.
“I’ll do my best,” she replied automatically. He gave her one last glance before he turned away. He checked the lock on the door before he closed it quietly behind him.
It wasn’t until later that she realized she hadn’t objected to him assuming she’d have dinner with him tomorrow.
She lay in bed that night, wondering why she’d grown so discombobulated when Nick mentioned the death of his parents. The reason finally came to her; it was the knowledge of how much they had in common. They’d both served in the military. Both of them had lost parents in car wrecks. Both of them had loved Lincoln DuBois. Circumstances had made them both highly independent and self-sufficient people.
They were both loners. And while Deidre wasn’t an orphan in the classic sense, she thought she might have more of an idea of the loneliness of the condition than the average person. She knew the feeling of being different, of never perfectly fitting in anywhere.
She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled on her side. After recognizing that shared bond with Nick, sleep was a long time coming.
* * *
A light snow was starting to fall when she left the house at eleven the next morning. She had plans to visit Marc, Mari and her adorable little niece and godchild, Riley, at the Starling Hotel.
She recalled how Nick had casually slipped into their conversation last night that they’d have dinner together that evening. Was she going to let him get away with his subtle manipulation to spend time with her, or would she avoid Cedar Cottage during the dinner hour? She honestly wasn’t sure about her answer as she headed over to the Starling Hotel, hoping all the while she had no unexpected run-ins with Nick.
During lunch she spilled the news about the will to a stunned Marc and Mari.
After the meal, Mari, Riley and she wandered out into the festively decorated hotel lobby while Marc went to check for a fax from Chicago at the front desk.
“Will you come back to Harbor Town for Christmas?” Deidre asked Mari. Each of them was holding on to one of Riley’s pudgy hands to protect the china vases and glittering Christmas tree ornaments from the curious toddler’s grasp.
Mari shook her head regretfully. “Marc is far too busy with his campaign. Plus, I have a concert Christmas Eve,” Mari said, referring to Marc’s bid for a U.S. Senate seat and her own job as a cellist for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. “Besides, I think I have finally convinced Ryan to come to Chicago for Christmas. He’s officially a civilian now, like you.” Mari asked, referring to her older brother, who had been an air force pilot.
“He is? That’s wonderful. I always thought I’d run into him while we were both on active duty, but I never did. Are Marc and Ryan getting along now?” Deidre asked.
Mari made a face and glanced down at Riley. Marc and Ryan used to be best friends when they were teenagers. The car wreck Derry had caused while he’d been intoxicated had cruelly taken Ryan and Mari’s parents from them. Grief and anger had severed Marc and Ryan’s friendship long ago. “I wouldn’t say getting along, precisely,” Mari whispered, as if she thought Riley shouldn’t hear. “They behave politely enough, for my sake and for Riley’s.”
The two women shared a glance of compassion. It hurt to know that the old wound between the once close families still festered.
“Would you like to stay with us in Chicago for the holiday?” Mari asked, looking glad to change the painful topic.
“No. I’ll just lie low here for a while, look over that job proposal you gave me.”
“Are you really considering taking the job at the Family Center?” Mari wondered enthusiastically as they sat on a deep-cushioned velvet couch and Riley started to crawl all over them. The Family Center was an innovative program for community education and treatment of substance abuse. Mari had started the center because of the heavy toll drunk driving had taken on her life.
“I don’t know. I love the idea of the preventative project I told you about for returning vets with substance abuse issues related to PTSD and depression, and it seems like a wonderful place to work. I’m going over there tomorrow to have Colleen show me around. Afterward, I’m going to help Eric out with an unexpected rush of intake exams,” Deidre said, referring to Colleen’s physician boyfriend, Eric Reyes, whom Deidre strongly suspected would be her fiancé very soon. “The Family Center is running on a skeleton staff during the holiday season. I’ve kept my nursing license active in Michigan, so it worked out great.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mari enthused, dark eyes sparkling with the excitement of future plans.
Deidre laughed. “Don’t plan on writing me a paycheck yet. I feel like I’m being tossed around by fate at the moment. My future seems so uncertain right now.”
She suddenly realized that if Nick didn’t contest the will, she’d be in a position to fund the project at the Family Center and many more like it. Funny, she’d never really thought of that possibility until now. It just all seemed so unlikely, so incongruous. She—a billionaire.
“Deidre? Are you okay?” Mari asked.
She blinked, realizing she was frowning. She laughed and kissed Riley’s cheek when the little girl crawled into her lap and used Deidre’s shoulders to pull herself into a standing position. Riley squealed and giggled when Deidre gave her a big hug. She’d never been so flattered and moved in her life when Marc and Mari had asked her to be the little girl’s godmother. They’d even made Riley’s middle name the same as Deidre’s.
“I’m sorry,” she said, bouncing Riley on her knee. “I’m really not myself lately.”
“Understandable,” Mari soothed. “You’re life has been turned upside down within a matter of months. You should take some time off for rest and reflection. But I’m still thinking about Christmas. Will you go to Brigit’s?” she asked delicately. “I know how much she wants you to come.”
Deidre sighed, guilt and defiance sweeping through her in equal measure. She was growing increasingly familiar with the feeling, since she had experienced it in distilled form every time she’d noticed her mother had called her cell phone yesterday. She’d left every call unanswered. “I don’t know. Maybe,” Deidre murmured noncommittally. In truth, she wasn’t sure what she’d do for Christmas. She didn’t know if she was ready to return to the Kavanaugh house on Sycamore Avenue or to make amends with Brigit.
Marc joined them a minute later. He held up an envelope.
“Lincoln DuBois’s will,” he told Deidre. “I guess Nick Malone dropped it off at the front desk while we were at lunch. I’ll look it over, then have a friend of mine who specializes in estate law go over it with a fine-tooth comb. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
“That’d be great. Thank you, Marc.”
Marc eyed her worriedly. “Please don’t agree to anything Nick asks of you until you talk it over with me. I’m not crazy about leaving Harbor Town while he’s here. I don’t trust him. It’s just our luck that Liam left town for his honeymoon the day after Malone arrived,” Marc said, referring to Liam’s job as the Harbor County police chief.
Deidre gave her brother a teasing grin. “There’s no need for you to worry. Nick’s presence here may be strange, but I hardly think he’s going to resort to criminal activity.”
“Do you have any interest whatsoever in running DuBois Enterprises?” Marc asked, his expression remaining serious.
“Look at it like this. If an alien landed in your front yard and asked you if you’d like to run their planet, what would you say? That’s pretty much how I feel about this whole situation. I know absolutely nothing about business. Sure, I’d like to learn something about Lincoln’s company, understand it better, but run it?” Deidre asked wryly, glancing from Marc to Mari.
“Just the fact that you’re interested in DuBois Enterprises says something. Don’t let Malone influence you. You’re still in shock about everything that’s happened to you. He might take advantage of that.”
“Come on, Marc. You know as well as anyone I can take care of myself.”
“We’re talking about a hell of a lot of money here, and ten times as much power. It’s not a world we’re accustomed to, Dee. Who knows what people will do when the stakes are so high?”
Deidre laughed. “I said almost the exact same thing to Colleen yesterday.” Her expression sobered as she studied her brother. “Marc—I’m worried about what could happen with your campaign if news gets out about the will. When things go public, there’s a good chance the truth about Mom and Lincoln’s affair, not to mention a lurid rehashing of the car crash, is going to show up in the papers. The Kavanaugh name could be dragged through the mud all over again.”
Mari gave a small groan and looked at her husband anxiously. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s not like the Kavanaughs haven’t been on the receiving end of bad press before,” Marc reminded both of them, pausing to stroke his wife’s shoulder in reassurance. After Derry had caused the car wreck due to drunk driving, his name and reputation had been battered by the press. The Kavanaugh family had suffered by association. “As a matter of fact, my opponent in the Cook County prosecutor race brought up Dad’s responsibility for the wreck, trying to use it for fuel. I’m used to mudslinging on the campaign trail.”
“But it could ruin your chances for a win,” Deidre protested.
Marc and Mari exchanged a significant glance.
“Marc’s right,” Mari said resolutely. “You have enough on your mind as it is without worrying about the outcome of Marc’s race.” When Marc swung his giggling daughter into his arms and changed the subject, Deidre took the hint and didn’t belabor the topic, although she was far from being reassured.
She’d promised to pick up Liam and Natalie’s mail while they were on their honeymoon in Turks and Caicos. By the time Deidre returned to Cedar Cottage later that afternoon, the snow had picked up. It wasn’t enough to make conditions hazardous yet, but Deidre was glad to be getting home.
Would Nick show up here at the cottage to take her to dinner, she wondered as she went into the cottage. He hadn’t called, but that wasn’t too surprising, given the fact she’d never told him her number. She supposed she should, given their strange, probably impermanent partnership at DuBois Enterprises.
She took a hot bath and dressed in a pair of jeans and a favorite soft, cotton cable-knit sweater. To her dismay, she found herself spending way too much time on her makeup, accentuating the color and shape of her eyes with liner and subtle eye shadow. When she realized what she was doing, she irritably threw the makeup in a bag and stalked out of the bathroom.
What was she doing, primping for Nick Malone?
She was convinced she was indifferent to his arrival when a knock came at her door a little after six o’clock.
She was entirely uncaring about seeing him, that is, until she opened her front door and saw him standing on the dim porch, snow dusting his hair and jacket, and holding the trunk of a perfectly shaped, six-foot pine tree and a huge bag from Shop and Save.
“I thought you might like a Christmas tree,” he stated simply.
She blinked in amazement, transferring her gaze from the tree to his face. She was stunned. Had he noticed last night—that flash of longing she’d tried to hide when they’d talked about childhood Christmases? Had he noticed months ago, at The Pines, when she’d conversed with Lincoln?
She knew he had when she looked into his somber eyes, knew it down in her very bones.
“I hope it’s okay,” he said quietly. “What do you say, Deidre? A truce? Just for one night?” he added when she didn’t speak.
She dazedly realized she’d just left him standing there at the front door, gaping at him.
“I...well...all right. I mean...it is a great tree.” His face lit up at her flustered response. She gave him a sheepish grin. It was hard to frown at Nick when he flashed those dimples.
He gave the pine a good shake to remove the few snowflakes that had settled on the upper boughs.
“One of the reasons I got this one was that it was beneath a canopy and completely dry...at least until I carried it to the car,” he explained, knocking off a last few stubborn flakes with his gloved hand.
Without thinking Deidre stepped forward and brushed snow off his shoulder, going up on tiptoe to swipe her hand through his dark brown hair. The strands felt thick, soft and chilled beneath her fingers. He glanced at her in surprise. His face was close. He had little flecks of black interspersed in the silver-gray of his irises. His lashes were very thick….
She cleared her throat and stepped back, banging her hip clumsily on the door.
“Come in,” she said breathlessly, opening the door wider to make way for Nick and his heartwarming gift, all the while hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake by letting him into the cottage...by inviting him into her life.
Chapter Three
They set the tree in the front window where it could be easily admired from the rural road and while curled up on the couch before the fire. Deidre busied herself pulling out all the decorations from the bag while Nick arranged the tree in the base.
“Look at these old-fashioned lights! I love these. They’re so retro,” she said, grinning as she withdrew large, colored bulbs from the bag. Nick removed his head from beneath the tree and glanced back at her. She couldn’t help but notice he was awesome to look at, lying on his side with his back to her, his hands beneath the tree, tightening the screws on the base. His body was long, his hips were lean, his thighs strong-looking. His back muscles flexed interestingly beneath the blue-and-white plaid fitted shirt he wore. She dragged her gaze off the vision of his butt outlined in a pair of jeans.
Her cheeks heated when she noticed his strange expression. Had he noticed where she’d been staring?
“What’s wrong?” she asked when he continued to look at her.
“Nothing. It’s just—Lincoln liked that kind of bulb, too. He never gave a damn about new trends. Not when it came to Christmas. He put up an old-fashioned Christmas tree at The Pines—large, colored bulb lights, garland, tinsel...always the biggest, most gorgeous tree on the lake,” he mumbled. He stuck his head beneath the tree again.
Deidre walked toward him, still holding the box of lights.
“Would Lincoln have the staff put up the tree?”
“The staff helped, but Linc was always in the middle of things. He’d make a party of it,” she heard him say from beneath the boughs. “Sasha, Linea, Otto and Linda joined us last year,” he said, mentioning Lincoln’s chef, administrative assistant, driver and one of his nurses. “Linc insisted on being brought downstairs and overseeing things from his wheelchair.”
“So you were always there for the Christmas decorating ritual?” Deidre asked, running her fingers over the supple needles of the tree.
“Yeah, I usually made a point of trying to clear my schedule to be there.”
She imagined the staff, Nick and Lincoln, the festive mood lightening their spirits, Lincoln directing them on their decorating and encouraging them to partake of food and drink. “Of course, you must have put the tree in front window of the great room. It must have looked fabulous.”
“Yeah. Lincoln was like a kid at Christmastime. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked the architect to design The Pines with that huge window so that he could get himself a twenty-five-foot pine to put in it every year. How’s that look? Is it straight?” he queried.
Deidre stepped back and walked in a half circle, inspecting the tree—and Nick—beneath it. “It’s perfect.”
He backed out and stood. She waved toward the kitchen. “I bought some hot chocolate earlier. It’s just instant, but—”
“I’d love some.”
“Oh...okay, great, then I’ll just—”
“Here. I’ll start to put on the lights and you get the hot chocolate,” he said, coming toward her. She handed him the box of bulbs. When he didn’t move back and Deidre didn’t immediately head toward the kitchen, a strange combination of awareness of his nearness and awkwardness struck her at once.
“What about music?” he asked.
She started. “Music?”
“Yeah. You know...‘White Christmas,’ ‘Jingle Bells.’”
Deidre laughed. She couldn’t help it. Something about the idea of scowling, bottom-line, business-mogul Nick Malone getting into the Christmas spirit was funny, and yet...right somehow, too.
She ignored his bewildered expression at her laughter and walked toward the bedroom, where there was a radio. “I’ll see if I can’t find a station playing some.
