Lovers' Lies Read online

  Her father would have a stroke if she wore anything even approaching that revealing. A tiny square of cloth front and back was held by a narrow cord at the sides.

  When Susan laid a hand on Seth’s arm, jealousy, hot and painful sat like a lead ball in Victoria’s gut.

  "You gorgeous hunk," Susan’s shrill voice turned heads in every direction. "You have my country cousin panting with desire."

  Seth looked in her direction and Victoria wished the ground to open up and swallow her. Whole.

  What could she say?

  Susan had acted the trollop, and suddenly Victoria fully understood his reticence. How could he know in the beginning that she was any different from her cousin?

  "You’re not responsible for your cousin. What’s the voluptuous Susan doing now?"

  "She’s married with three preschoolers, the perfect wife and mother and a veritable paragon. I’m the family pariah," she said with wry irony.

  And this role reversal still jarred.

  It was Susan who'd acted the trollop but Victoria who'd ended up pregnant. It was so clichéd.

  "So what have you done to put you on the outer with your family?" He watched her, his expression laser sharp.

  Ooops! Put my foot in it, why don't I.

  Almost too late, Victoria saw the trap she’d created with her unwary words. With a dismissive shrug she turned away, mind racing. Any conversation with him was fraught with perilous craters. Sooner or later she would step in one. And when that happened—

  Keir gently caught her arm and made her face him. "What’s happened in your life, Victoria?"

  "Apart from leaving home and starting my own business," she weighed her words carefully. "Not a lot."

  If I don’t take into account raising this man’s son, alone.

  "You own Victorian Grace?"

  "My mother left me some money and I used it as seed money to start my business."

  "Yet you had such big plans, a lucrative scholarship, university, a degree in finance then overseas travel."

  Victoria’s heart thudded in her chest, embarrassed now to remember how she’d shot her mouth off.

  Big time.

  Mentally sifting the past, she edited out revealing information. Of one thing she was absolutely certain. Keir Donovan was no fool and the last thing she wanted to do was raise his suspicions about her life, hell, about anything.

  Then why are you walking alone with him in the early morning? And holding his hand?

  Talk about sending mixed messages.

  Guilt had her freeing her hand from his. She pushed it deep in the pocket of the borrowed jacket.

  "Plans and people change," she said with quiet emphasis, praying he'd drop the subject. "Now, I can’t imagine doing anything else. Working with flowers is a joy."

  While not her first choice, floristry provided a home for her and her son and also enabled her to schedule her work around Connor’s care. But most of all it allowed her to escape her father’s censure and domination.

  She shivered.

  The fierce battle waged over Connor still held the power to wound. When Andrew demanded Victoria give up her baby for adoption and resume her university scholarship, he'd underestimated her determination.

  No one could coerce her into giving up her child.

  But this wasn’t something she could explain. "Your plans changed too, Keir. You went to America. What happened to your ambition to take over the family firm?"

  As his glance roved over her face, she felt heat seep into her cheeks.

  "I needed to escape. The family pressure to take over Donovans was stifling me. An overseas post and the chance of gaining wider experience was by far the easiest way out."

  "And yet, here you are back at the helm of Donovans."

  "Yes, here I am, older and infinitely wiser."

  The harsh thread in his voice caught her attention, as did his expression, emotion so raw, she averted her eyes.

  Intuition screeching, Victoria knew some shattering event brought him back to New Zealand and home to a family he clearly held in contempt.

  Why?

  Something—or was it someone—had changed and hardened this man. Was this why he's prepared to settle for marriage to a woman as cold as Davina Strathmore?

  He looked so—she searched for the right word—alone.

  That was it.

  There was a decided air of aloneness about him. Not a state usually associated with a man on the brink of marriage.

  Victoria, well acquainted with the ache of loneliness, recognized it. She’d endured long years alone, caring for her child without the support of a mate.

  She’d learned that just living was often the most difficult undertaking of all.

  They continued walking, Victoria’s hands deep in the pockets of the jacket.

  The more they talked the greater the sense of intimacy. And this made her nervous. His revelation about his mother made her very glad she’d never lied to Connor.

  Caine Donovan didn't strike her as a stupid man. Surely he must have known such a massive deception could not remain a secret forever.

  Had he not anticipated his son's reaction when he discovered the lies he’d been fed?

  And he was surprised he was closer to Logan than his own son? A snort of disbelief almost escaped her.

  Even as a small boy, Keir had a way of looking at you, judging you and finding you wanting.

  Had Keir sensed he was being lied to?

  No. She shook her head. That was Caine's guilt talking. The movement caught Keir’s attention.

  "What is it?"

  He tilted his head and looked at her, an eyebrow quirked.

  Yet another trait he shared with his son. The likeness between father and son was uncanny. Had Logan guessed the connection? Was that the reason he'd badgered her into this weekend visit?

  "Caine probably thought he was acting for the best," she said grasping the subject uppermost in her mind.

  "Whose best?" He turned, gripping her shoulders, "Certainly not the best for a grieving child."

  That was unanswerable.

  What a shattering disillusionment. How would she cope with such deception? Not at all well, she suspected.

  "How did you learn your mother was still alive?"

  She watched him from beneath lowered brows as he struggled to frame an answer.

  The silence stretched.

  High in the treetops a thrush serenaded the morning, its clear musical notes joined by other birds. The first fingers of sun crept over the hills, turning the floating mist into a moving cotton wool shroud.

  Keir walked on, the crunch of his boots on gravel and fallen leaves strangely soothing.

  "I met her, quite by accident," he said at last.

  Victoria sensed the words cost him an enormous effort.

  "Where?"

  At her soft question, he glanced her way, and then frowning, concentrated his attention on the path beneath their feet.

  "I was staying with a school friend for the school holidays. And she brought one of her daughters over. The daughter was my friend's girl friend."

  Victoria halted, staring up at him frowning. "How did you know she was your mother? After all those years?"

  Keir stopped. His black brows met in a heavy frown, his clenched fists bulged in his trouser pockets. He looked at her shaking his head.

  It was all Victoria could do not to cry out as she glimpsed his devastation, even now. Devastation she sensed he would deny with his dying breath.

  What had his parents' lies done to this man?

  She had the strongest urge to cradle him in her arms and soothe away his hurt.

  "Would you believe it was her perfume?" Keir gave a bark of scornful laughter. "And then she tried to explain."

  "Explain?" The word exploded from her in a fury of disbelief. "How the hell can anyone even try and explain away such an iniquitous lie?"

  "Precisely." He rocked back on his heels, looking down at her. "Believe me; I was
in no mood to listen. And I took my anger out on my friend's house. And that is something I do regret."

  As Victoria turned over his words, she had little difficulty imagining the scene.

  The discovery of such a huge betrayal would throw anyone, let alone a teen already chock full of testosterone ridden angst just waiting for someone to light the fuse.

  Am I glad I resisted the temptation to tell Connor his father was dead?

  This was another of her father’s suggestions.

  Now he was at school, Connor’s questions about his father were coming with increasing frequency. He wanted a father, wanted to be like all the other boys.

  And now I've found him.

  Uncomfortable, she asked the first question that came to mind. "You visit your mother and sisters?"

  "My sisters, yes. My mother? Not if I can help it."

  The clipped response enough to let her know Keir still harbored ill feelings toward his mother. Did he blame the woman for the lies?

  "Elizabeth is wary of me and my rage, but the Courtney family has forgiven me."

  "You were staying with them that summer?"

  "For someone so shy, you discovered a lot." His smile was amused. "Beth married Rafe Courtney."

  Victoria stopped and stared at him, eyes wide, her heart suddenly hammering like a wild thing. "Beth Ellison is your sister?"

  "She's Beth Courtney now," His smile was one of pure, wicked devilment. "She was highly amused at my fascination with a golden eyed witch, so tiny I could have carried her off to my lair in one hand."

  Victoria scuffed a boot in the gravel. His words eased an ache in her heart that she hadn't even realized was there. Knowing she hadn't been mistaken, and that the explosive attraction they generated hadn't been all one sided, brought her a measure of relief.

  "Why didn't you say something last night?"

  "Mention my sisters here? You have to be joking. Muriel would throw a fit. And Dad—" he broke off and spread his hands.

  His tone worried her. Would knowing this family damage Connor? "You don't get on with Caine?"

  "We have an armed truce now I’m running the firm."

  The undercurrent of violent emotion in his tone made no sense.

  "So why come back?" She was curious and more than a little surprised given his hostile attitude toward his family.

  He gave another of those comprehensive shrugs. "Someone had to run Donovans. It’s been a family concern for four generations. The CEO was stepping down. Dad was considering merging the firm with another company. He's never been interested in finance, horses were his thing."

  "You’ve always been in business?"

  He laughed, the first genuine laugh she’d heard from him. This was more like the man she’d once known.

  "My grandfather lived and breathed business. I spent a lot of time with him. He used to tease me, saying I had ledger ink in my veins."

  Victoria could understand Keir gravitating to someone other than his father. She’d always known he was passionate about business. A wistful longing sneaked up on her.

  Once, she’d planned a career in business and finance until Connor curtailed her dreams.

  Or did that summer with Keir persuade me to tailor my dreams to align with his?

  That thought pulled her up short.

  Was I so easily swayed?

  Finance had been only one of many career options she'd considered before she went to university. But was it her driving ambition? Was she so enthralled as she listened to Keir that her dreams had morphed into his?

  "You love your work?"

  "I didn't feel comfortable with Donovans going out of family control."

  "That brought you back?" she asked, disbelieving. "But it's more or less been out of your immediate family control for years."

  He frowned at her obvious curiosity, and his fierce expression made her realize something weighed heavily on his mind.

  "My marriage was over," he said, goaded. "And I was tired of the madness that was New York."

  Victoria felt as though a knife had slipped between her ribs.

  "Married?" Stunned, she stared at him, her breath hitching in her throat. "You've been married?"

  "Why are you surprised?" he asked, an edge to his soft tone. "I'm a normal heterosexual male."

  How could she answer?

  Jealousy and disillusionment fought for supremacy. While her life had become very circumscribed, Keir obviously had few qualms getting on with his.

  "What happened? Why did your marriage end?"

  His silence lasted so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer. He rocked back on his heels. "It’s not important."

  And she knew he’d lied.

  Chapter Five

  "You’re divorced?" Victoria asked, her tone waspish. "So it's off with the old, on with the new?"

  Keir’s lips thinned. He looked at her, his expression one of acute dislike. "Donovans wanted a married man for CEO."

  "So you obediently fell in love with an iceberg."

  As soon as the acid words escaped, she wanted to claw them back. A furtive glance surprised a flush of ruddy color on his face. She sensed he resented her stinging sarcasm.

  As they walked, they’d veered from the track toward the stables and were now shrouded in the foggy depths of a small woodland dell.

  Keir turned her to face him, guiding her back against the trunk of a towering oak.

  "I don't break promises," he said with chilling softness. "I could love you and drain all your sweetness but I won't renege on my promise to marry Davina."

  Her lashes dropped to conceal hurt then, determined to meet his gaze, she lifted her chin with pride. "I will never take another woman's man as a lover, Keir."

  "Then why come here? You’ve admitted Logan wasn't the attraction. That leaves only me." His cynical smile left her flayed. "How did you discover my relationship to Logan?"

  "I didn't know, and that’s the truth."

  Anger flared at his mockery, but she couldn’t silence her own suspicions. While she didn't know he was Logan’s brother, had Logan guessed Keir was Connor’s father?

  It was a notion she could no longer easily dismiss.

  "Are you like every other woman and color the truth to suit the situation? Do you deal in lies, half-truths and deception?"

  His bitter question had guilt spiraling through her, digging into her flesh as sharp as any spur, her damning secret a heavy weight.

  A lie by omission is still a lie.

  Unable to meet his laser sharp gaze, she knew a moment’s bitter regret at not leveling with him earlier when she’d had the chance.

  And now, it's too late for me to go back and start over.

  Keir lifted her chin. She refused to look at him; sure he’d see the sick guilt she couldn’t disguise.

  With a sharp imprecation he caught her arms, lifting her slightly. She gasped and he laughed softly as he looked down at her. His arms moved between her and the tree.

  She gasped again—and clutched wildly instead of pushing. The steely arms tightened, and suddenly only her toes touched the ground. Victoria dragged in a breath—one too shallow to steady her whirling senses. Her lungs seized; her wits skittered wildly, informing her, in vivid detail, that she was being held hard against the body of the man she'd never stopped loving.

  "Put me down." Her breathless words lacked conviction

  He heard them, angled his head, one black brow rising, and then a slow smile curved his lips. "In a minute."

  Victoria heard the intent in his deep voice, and her eyes opened wide.

  "But first—"

  Unable to think, to protest, she shivered at the intimate way his gaze caressed her face. It distracted her, and his lips completed her defeat—as arrogantly confident, his mouth settled over hers.

  The initial chill of his lips gave way to heat, a heat so intense it stunned her. She ceased to breathe and soon breathing became unimportant.

  She stirred in his encircling arm. It
locked tight about her, denying her half-hearted attempt at escape. His heat surrounded her—even through the thickness of their jackets.

  It reached her, enveloped her, warming the place inside her that had been so cold and lonely it seemed like forever. The heat between them grew, built.

  His hot, hungry mouth would not be denied.

  With a belated effort she tried to hold back, tried to deny the reality of the moment and dampen her desire.

  And couldn’t.

  Victoria knew she was facing ignominious defeat—with not one clue of where they would go from here.

  And then she was beyond thinking. She surrendered to the burning hunger of his kiss. Hands buried in his silky hair, she kneaded and reacquainted herself with every once familiar contour.

  Her surrender increased his confidence.

  Temptation streaked through her. A moan escaped only to be swallowed by his ravenous mouth. She writhed against his hard body, needing to be so much closer, and her clothes were now a serious impediment.

  His arms tightened, crushing her closer, imprinting her soft flesh with his male hardness. He opened her coat, his hand delving and insinuating itself against her warm flesh. Its chill made her shudder.

  Her involuntary reaction was enough to make him break the kiss. He lifted his head, heated eyes raked her face. "Still adamant you won't be my lover? I could take you right here, right now, against this tree."

  The cynical mockery was a douche of icy water, freezing tender emotions.

  She struggled to escape arms that were now a prison.

  Slowly, he let her slide down the full length of his very aroused body leaving her in no doubt where he wanted this encounter to go.

  "You don't play fair." She moved away, mortified to find she was as helpless now against his potency as she’d been at eighteen.

  "When was life ever fair? When my mother abandoned me? When your mother died leaving you alone and bereft?"

  The hard words left her shaken and she picked up the end of her plait, running it past her lips in a defensive gesture.

  "Keir." It was a struggle but she forced herself to meet his eyes. Pride stiffened her spine. "You're engaged to Davina, and on your own admission, you have no intention of breaking your engagement. So leave me alone."

  Conflicting emotions crossed his face, lips twisted with self-contempt. He looked at her, put a finger beneath her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.