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“The money isn’t an issue,” he said quietly, a small smile on his face as he watched Cammie scoot from one wonder to the next. “I wanted my daughter to feel at home here.”
“She’s not your daughter.” The denial was automatic, but lacked conviction.
Kieran barely noticed. “She’s smart, isn’t she?”
“Oh, yes. Talking in full sentences before she was two. Reading at three and a half. Learning how to use my laptop almost a year ago. I can barely keep up with her.”
“A child needs two parents, Olivia.” He wasn’t looking at her, but the words sounded like a threat.
“You grew up with only one,” she shot back. “And you’ve done all right.”
He half turned and she could see the riot of emotions in his eyes. “I wouldn’t wish my childhood on anyone,” he said. The blunt words were harsh and ragged with grief.
Shame choked her and she laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Kieran. I really am.”
He took her wrist in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth and brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “Tonight. When she’s asleep. We’ll talk in my suite. One of the housekeepers can babysit and make sure she’s okay.” His grip tightened. “This isn’t optional, Olivia.”
Once again she was thrown by the way he mingled tenderness with masculine authority. Kieran wasn’t a man who could be “handled.” He expected to be obeyed, and it incensed her. But at the same time, she knew she dared not cross him and risk having him blurt out the truth to Cammie. That she had a father. A flesh and blood man who wanted to know her and be part of her life. What kind of mother would Olivia be if she stood in the way of that?
What else did Kieran want? Was this weekend visit going to appease him? Would he sue for joint custody? Or perhaps at the urging of his paranoid father, would he insist on full custody and try to lock Cammie up here in the castle until she was old enough to escape?
That’s essentially what Kieran and his brothers had experienced. They had been hidden away from the world until they were allowed to go away to school with aliases.
Olivia couldn’t live like that. And she certainly didn’t want her daughter to endure such isolation. So she had no choice but to convince Kieran that being a father was too much for him to handle.
He left them finally, and Olivia and Cammie fell into an exhausted sleep, both of them in Olivia’s bed. For a five-year-old, even with a private playground at her disposal, sometimes the most comfortable place to be was curled up in Mommy’s arms.
Shadows filled the room when they awoke. Someone had slid a note under the door indicating that dinner would be at seven. As Olivia and Cammie washed up and changed clothes, a smiling young maid brought by a tray of grapes, cheese and crackers.
Olivia blessed whoever had the foresight to be so thoughtful. When Cammie got hungry, she got cranky, and her resultant attitude could be unpredictable.
Fortunately Cammie was on her best behavior that evening. And it helped that the whole Wolff clan was not in residence. Only Kieran’s father, Victor, Kieran’s brothers, Gareth and Jacob, and the newest member of the family, Gareth’s wife, Gracie, were seated around the large mahogany dining table when Olivia and Cammie walked into the room.
Olivia put a hand on her daughter’s thin shoulder. “Sorry if we’re late. We took a wrong turn in the third floor hallway.”
Victor Wolff, one of the clan’s two patriarchs, lumbered to his feet, chuckling at Olivia’s lame joke. “Quite understandable. No problem. We’re just getting ready for the soup course.” His gaze landed on Cammie and stayed there, full of avid interest. “Welcome to the mountain, ladies. Kieran rarely brings such lovely guests.”
“Thank you, sir.” Olivia took a seat, and settled Cammie beside her, surprised to find that she was nervous as hell. It certainly wasn’t the formal dinner that had her baffled. She’d conquered dining etiquette as a child. No, it was the barely veiled speculation in the eyes of everyone at the table when they looked at Olivia and Cammie.
Only Kieran seemed oblivious to the undercurrents in the room. After digging into his pan-fried trout, caught in one of the streams on the property, he waved a fork at his father. “So tell me, Dad… what big projects do you and Uncle Vincent have lined up for the summer?”
He sat to the left of Olivia, and in an aside, he said, “My dad always likes to keep things humming here on the mountain. One year he repainted the entire house. Took the workmen six weeks and untold gallons of paint. Another time he added a bowling alley in the basement.”
She smiled, hyperaware of Kieran’s warm thigh so close to her own. “I imagine with a place this size there is always something that needs your attention.”
Victor nodded. “Indeed. But this time I’m branching out. I’ve decided to plant a portion of the back of the mountain in Christmas trees.”
Cammie’s face lit up, her attention momentarily diverted from her macaroni and cheese. “I love Christmas. My mama covers the whole house with decorations.”
Victor smiled at her. “How old are you, young lady?”
“Five,” she said casually, returning her attention to her meal.
Victor honed in on Olivia then. “My son hasn’t told us much about you, Olivia. Have you known each other very long?”
The food she had eaten congealed into a knot in her stomach. She had been dreading just such a line of questioning. It took all she had to answer in a matter-of-fact voice. “We met when Kieran and I were doing graduate work at Oxford. You were taken ill soon after that, and he and I lost touch.”
“I see.” Olivia was very much afraid that he did see.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her skirt. Javier and Lolita tended to worry when she and Cammie were out of their reach, and they called often to check in. Since there was a lull before dessert, she smiled at the group in general and said, “Excuse me, please.”
When she returned a few moments later, Kieran jumped up to move out her chair. He leaned over as he seated her, whispering in her ear, “What’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”
She wanted to hold on to him for comfort, and that scared her. So she swallowed her dismay and produced a smile. “Everything’s fine. That was my mother checking up on us.”
Kieran frowned, obviously unconvinced. “Olivia’s parents are Javier and Lolita Delgado.”
A rippled murmur swept the table. Gareth Wolff lifted an eyebrow. “I remember seeing her in Fly by Night when I was sixteen. She’s amazing.”
Jacob joined in the verbal applause. “And I’ll never forget when your dad played his first big role in Vigilante Justice. I thought he was the coolest dude ever.”
Hearing Kieran’s reserved brothers speak so enthusiastically about her parents made Olivia realize anew how much the older couple was beloved around the world. As their daughter, she saw them in a different light, but she understood the admiration and passion they generated in audiences.
Unfortunately not all of it was positive.
Biting her lip, she decided to share her unease. “My mother has a stalker fan who has been causing some problems. She just told me that he has hacked into her private email account and started sending her weird messages.”
All four Wolff males wore matching expressions of ferocity. “Like what?” Kieran demanded, sliding an arm across the back of her chair.
Olivia slanted a worried glance at her daughter, but Cammie was engrossed in playing with a kitten that had wandered into the dining room. Olivia lowered her voice, anyway. “He’s threatening violence. To my mother and to the people she holds dear. I could tell my mother is really spooked.”
“It’s a good thing you’re here,” Victor boomed, his florid face indignant. “How long are you staying?”
“Just until Monday.”
Kieran brushed her arm with his fingertips. “I could only get her to agree to a three-night visit, but I’m hoping to change her mind.” In front of God and everyone at the table, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.
Olivia stiffened and turned red with mortification. Kieran’s family only grinned.
Victor signaled an end to the dinner by rising unsteadily to his feet. “Well, keep us posted. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
Gracie moved around the table and gave her brother-in-law a hug. “Nice of you to bring some estrogen to this male enclave.” She smiled at Olivia. “I hear you’re a children’s book illustrator. I’d love to pick your brain about that if you have time. I’m a painter.”
“I’d be happy to,” Olivia said. “But at the moment, I need to get Cammie ready for bed. When we cross time zones, it’s tough to keep her routine intact.”
Kieran took her arm as they left the dining room. “Remember,” he said. “My suite. Don’t make me hunt you down.”
She shivered, looking into his eyes for any sign of weakness. But there was none. His gaze was steady, confident, implacable. Her time of reckoning was nigh.
Cammie was irritable and uncooperative, perhaps picking up on Olivia’s unsettled mood. It was close to ten o’clock when the child finally went to sleep in her tree house bed.
One of the older housekeepers took a seat in front of the television in Olivia’s sitting room and promised to be vigilant in keeping an eye and ear out for Cammie. Olivia knew that her daughter rarely woke up after falling asleep, so she had no real reason to procrastinate any longer.
She slipped into the bathroom and changed out of the dress she had worn to dinner. Instead, she opted for soft, well-worn jeans and a light cashmere pullover sweater in pale mauve. Her mass of hair seemed unruly, so she swept it up in a thick ponytail.
The woman in the mirror had big eyes and a troubled expression. She’d been waiting for six years to face what was coming. But knowing the day had finally arrived made it no easier.
Somehow she had to prevent Kieran from seeing how much she still responded to him sexually. Giving him that advantage would weaken her, and she couldn’t afford that… not when Cammie’s life and well-being were at stake.
Kieran’s suite of rooms was across the hall from hers. Was the arrangement designed to let him see more of his daughter or to remind Olivia that she could no longer hide from him?
She wiped damp palms on her jeans and knocked.
Five (#ulink_ca08edf3-50c2-5aa2-934c-eb1dd51d35c7)
Kieran had wondered if she would come. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she had used jet lag or some other excuse to postpone this meeting, yet here she was. In casual clothes and with her hair pulled back, she seemed scarcely old enough to be the mother of a five-year-old child. “Come in,” he said, feeling his muscles clench as she slipped past him. “Would you like some wine?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice husky and low. “White, please.”
He handed her a glass of the zinfandel he remember she liked and motioned for her to be seated. His suite, like the one he had chosen for her, included a bedroom, a lavish bath and this sitting room.
Olivia perched primly on a comfy chair, her knees together, ankles and feet aligned. Her curvy ass filled out the jeans she wore in a mouth-drying way. And that sweater. Jesus. Had she dressed this way deliberately to throw him off track?
Kieran remained standing, finishing his drink and setting the glass aside. “Cammie is mine,” he said slowly, still stunned by the notion. “Without a doubt. But you told me six years ago that you were taking the pill.”
She grimaced. “I was. But one morning I forgot to take it, and I found it lying by the sink when I got ready for bed that night. I swallowed it down right away, but obviously the damage was already done.”
“Hmm.” He was itchy, nervous, unsettled as hell. Tiptoeing through a minefield, that’s what this was. He cleared his throat. “We’re done with dancing around this, Olivia. I need to hear you say it. Tell me that Cammie is my daughter.”
When she remained stubbornly silent, he sighed. “Do you want to know the real reason I didn’t contact you after I left England?”
Shock flashed across her face, and she nodded cautiously, looking at him as if waiting for bad news from a doctor.
He ran both hands through his hair, searching for the right words. “After we had been together for a couple of weeks, you began telling me stories from your childhood… about what it was like to be the daughter of world famous celebrities. How there were always bodyguards and races to avoid paparazzi. You said you hated the isolation and never being able to play at a friend’s house. You told me you weren’t allowed to go to school, but instead, had private tutors. Do you remember saying all that?”
She nodded, frowning. “Of course.”
“Well, what I couldn’t tell you was that your story mirrored my own in many ways. We both suffered growing up, and I understood completely your feelings of being trapped, of wanting to fly the coop. You said on more than one occasion that all you wanted out of life was to be normal. To raise any children you might have like regular people.”
Grimacing, she took a sip of wine. “You really listened.”
“I did. And that’s why I never called. It’s not ego talking when I say that I knew you were falling in love with me. I felt the same way. You weren’t like any girl I had ever dated, and I wanted you so badly I couldn’t think straight half the time.”
“You never said anything.”
“I thought you’d be able to tell how I felt when we were making love. And I didn’t want to bare my soul when you knew me as Kevin Wade. If I told you I loved you, I wanted you to know I was Kieran.”
“And when your father had his heart attack?”
“It shook me. The night before I had called him and asked permission to tell you the truth. He was terribly upset, and the next morning I got the call that he’d been taken to the hospital. It felt like I had caused the heart attack, and maybe I did.”
“So you decided before you ever left England that we were over?”
“If I’m being honest… yes. I knew I could never give you what you needed, and I didn’t want to hurt you. My family is not normal. So it seemed kinder in the long run to end things before we both got in too deep. No matter how far I try to run from it, I’ll always be a Wolff, and the money will always make me and those I love a target. You have this dream of being a PTA mom and having a white picket fence. There’s not a place for me in that scenario.”
He thought his explanation would make her feel better. Instead, she looked furious.
“What gives you the right to make decisions for me, to map out my life?” she said angrily. “I had nothing but lies to go on, Kevin Wade. You’re an arrogant ass.” Her eyes flashed fire at him and her chest heaved.
How the hell did he become the bad guy, when he was only trying to protect her from hurt? “Tell me that Cammie is mine,” he demanded through clenched teeth.
Her lustrous eyes were wounded, her lips pale where she had pressed them together so hard. “Your sperm may have generated her life, but Cammie is my daughter.”
His heart caught in his throat and he sank onto the sofa, not for the world willing to admit that his knees had gone weak. “So you’re admitting we made a baby?”
Olivia’s face softened, and she came to sit beside him. Not touching but close. “Of course we did. Have you looked at her?”
Fury built in his belly. “How could you keep her from me for five long years? Damn it, Olivia. Do you have any idea what I’ve missed?” He vaulted to his feet, unable to bear her presence so close. He didn’t know whether to kiss her in gratitude for giving him a child or to strangle her for her deception.
He was shaking all over, and the weakness and turmoil he experienced infuriated him. Grief for the time he would never recoup mingled with wonder that a part of him lay asleep in a nearby room.
“When can we tell her?”
Olivia went white. “It’s not the kind of thing you blurt out. Maybe you should get to know her first.”
“In three days?” He was incredulous that she didn’t understand his urgency. “Guess again. I’m keeping her here this summer.”
“You can’t.”
“Oh, yes,” he said in dead earnest. “I can and I will. Both of you will move in here for the duration.”
“You can’t order me,” she whispered, anguish marking her face.
He shrugged. “I’m not being unreasonable. Your work can be done anywhere. She’s not in school yet. If you don’t agree, I’ll take you to court. I know plenty of judges who frown on parents who kidnap their own kids.”
“I didn’t kidnap her. That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“You kept her existence a secret from her father. Semantics, Olivia. I’m calling the shots now.”
“You’re bluffing.”
He felt a tingle of sympathy for her distress, but only that. She’d do well to understand that he fought for what was his. “It wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, would it? To spend time here on the mountain?”
Clearly unconvinced, she frowned stubbornly as she stood up and crossed the room to stand nose to nose with him. “I can’t turn my life upside down overnight. You’re a bully.”
He grinned, feeling suddenly lighthearted and free. A daddy. He was a daddy.
Olivia cocked her head. “What’s so funny?”
