If I Trust You (Mills & Boon Spice) Page 16

  “I don’t like the idea of you being alone in the future.”

  Her mirth faded. Was he telling her he was trying to prepare her for the fact that what was between them wasn’t permanent? Was he implying that she needed to build up her support because there was a good chance she would be cast adrift again sometime in the near future?

  She closed her mouth and cleared her throat. Of course that’s not what he meant. Hadn’t he been the definition of a passionate, interested male in the past week? She was just being paranoid.

  “You don’t have to worry about me. Or my mother.”

  “You’ve told me the story about Brigit. I feel for her, that’s all. She finds out her husband has had an affair. She’s devastated...hurting. She flees West and finds comfort from an old friend.”

  “It was selfish of her. Pure and simple. There were much better ways to handle the situation with Dad than to get him back by having her own affair,” Deidre insisted, her jaw tilted up defiantly.

  Nick’s eyes flashed. “Do you know for a fact Brigit was intent on payback? You loved Lincoln after knowing him only for months...weeks...days, maybe? He was a wonderful man. Wouldn’t you consider running to him, after a betrayal like your mother experienced? Imagine how deep your mother’s feelings must have been for him, given their long history. Maybe it was a mistake for them to sleep together, but you don’t have to twist your mom into the wicked witch. I won’t argue that Brigit made a huge mistake. She’s paid a heavy toll for it. Don’t you think she’s suffered enough?”

  Deidre just stared at him, amazed that he saw the topic so differently than her. As an outsider, did he perhaps see it more clearly? Was her perspective hazed by a teenager’s pain and simplistic view of the adult world?

  “Look, I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, period. I don’t want to fight with you. I just wanted to give you the jewelry. I don’t know how the hell we got here.”

  She stared at the velvet pouch, longing and doubt warring inside her.

  “To whom would that jewelry belong if not you?” Nick asked after a grave pause.

  She met his stare. “You,” she mouthed.

  He nodded slowly and leaned toward her. “So no matter what happens, it’s yours,” he said before he kissed her trembling lips.

  * * *

  Deidre stared out the kitchen window the next morning, watching a gentle snowfall. Nick and she had gone to the Starling Hotel last night and had Lily DuBois’s precious jewels locked in the hotel safe. This morning, however, Deidre felt as if she carried a priceless treasure in her heart. Her entire world sparkled.

  “Hey.”

  She turned and smiled at the source of her newfound joy. “Hey.”

  “You ready to go?” Nick murmured, stepping toward her and wrapping his hands around her shoulders.

  “Yes,” she replied, turning her face up to receive his kiss.

  “Do horses like the snow?” she asked after a moment.

  “It depends on the horse,” Nick said wryly next to her mouth before he kissed her again. He grabbed her hand. “Come on, I told your mother we’d pick her up by ten.”

  Nervousness fluttered in her belly as they approached Sycamore Avenue, but Brigit was walking out of the house at the same moment Nick pulled into the driveway. She walked toward them through a gentle snow wearing a pair of riding breeches, supple brown leather boots and a dark green anorak. Brigit gave her a warm smile through the windshield as she walked to the car. Gratitude swelled in Deidre’s breast at the knowledge that her mother had understood she wasn’t quite ready to go into the house.

  “It’s a wonderful day for a ride,” Brigit enthused as she got in the backseat. Deidre glanced back at her mother. Brigit beamed at her. Was Deidre’s happiness with the world contagious? Her mother seemed to glow with health and good spirits.

  “I’m so excited. To think—I’m finally going to teach one of my children to ride.”

  Deidre returned her smile. “If I don’t fall off and break my neck,” she said under her breath as she turned in her seat.

  “With teachers like Nick and I?” Brigit asked jovially. “Not a chance.”

  As it turned out, Deidre had more than Nick and her mother for teachers. A half an hour later, she sat on the back of a brown mare named Grace as she was taught to find her seat. Nick held the horse steady while Addy adjusted one stirrup, Brigit adjusted the other and Evan, Addy’s husband, silently oversaw their progress. Deidre held the reins and tried to get used to the unusual sensation of sitting on a large animal’s back.

  “Don’t jam your foot so tight in the stirrup,” Addy instructed.

  “Keep your posture straight, but try to relax,” Brigit added.

  “Quit poking at the girl and put her out on the lunge,” Evan chimed in.

  “The lunge?” Deidre asked nervously. She petted Grace’s neck soothingly when Nick let go and her hooves shifted. Was she transferring her anxiety to the animal?

  “It’s easiest to teach you how to post on a lunge line,” Nick explained as he attached a leather strap to Grace’s bridle.

  “And what’s posting again?” Deidre wondered uncertainly.

  “A horse’s trot is bouncy,” Nick explained. “Posting helps to smooth out the jarring motion. You rise in the saddle for every other stride. Can you show her while I explain?” Nick asked Brigit.

  Brigit nodded. Evan brought her a sleek-looking, near-black horse that had already been saddled. Deidre watched in admiration as her mother mounted with ease and an elegant poise. She straightened her spine, trying to model her mother’s perfect posture. She watched Brigit urge the horse to a trot within the fenced enclosure.

  “See how she rides the trot?” Nick said. Deidre listened intently as he described the necessary motion for the post, watching her mother with a tight focus, trying to memorize the movement.

  “Are you ready to try it?” Nick asked.

  “Not really,” Deidre said doubtfully. Her mom had made it seem like the easiest thing on earth to post on a horse, but she was quite sure it wasn’t.

  “It’ll be okay,” Nick assured her. “You’ll circle me while I have Grace on the line. It’ll give you a chance to learn to post without having to worry about guiding her.”

  “Can I lunge her?” Brigit asked breathlessly as she dismounted and handed her reins to Evan.

  Nick glanced at Deidre, his eyebrows quirked upward. She gave him a shaky, hopeful smile.

  “Sure,” he murmured, handing the lunge line to Brigit.

  It took Deidre several minutes to get the required motion as she jostled around for a while on Grace’s back, circling the enclosure. After concentrating and shifting her muscles into the new movement, things seemed to smooth. She heard a shout from Addy and glanced through the gentle snowfall toward the fence.

  “You’ve got it!” Addy called.

  A surge of excitement went through her as she matched the rhythm of her body to that of the horse. It felt exhilarating.

  She grinned and glanced at her mother. Brigit’s expression as she held the lunge line was beyond proud.

  Chapter Ten

  “That was so much fun!” Deidre called back to Nick two hours later as they approached the stables at a slow trot, Brigit riding several yards in front of them. White Christmas lights twinkled against the gray winter sky from the trees that lined the McGraw Stables entry drive. It’d been indescribable, practicing with Nick and her mother on one of the many well-cleared paths and finally taking her first full all-out ride, independent of the lunge line or instruction.

  Riding a horse felt similar to soaring free on a high dive. It was a heart-pounding, thrilling...quite possibly addictive experience.

  She glanced back, grinning, only to see Nick watching her, just a hint of a smile t
ilting his firm mouth. Her heart surged in her breast. Snowflakes dusted his dark hair and jacket. She’d seen him riding a few times at The Pines. While her mother reminded her of an elegant equestrian princess, Nick rode like he was one with the animal.

  “I suppose you’re happy,” she said quietly as he came alongside her. “You guessed I’d love it, and you were right.”

  He gave a small shrug and spoke quietly enough for only her to hear. “I wasn’t being smug,” he corrected. “I was just appreciating the rear view.”

  Deidre snorted softly with laughter and brought Grace to a halt, thrilling at the manner in which the animal followed her slightest prompt. She was riding the high from her horseback ride until Nick helped her dismount. He noticed her grimace.

  “You’ll be a little sore until you get more used to it,” he said, hiding his smile as Deidre rubbed her hip and bottom.

  “It won’t take her long to get a thicker hide,” Addy said mirthfully as she and Evan joined them and took the horses’ reins.

  Brigit laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a priceless bath soak that will help things considerably.”

  “You’d better or I might never walk again, let alone ride a horse,” Deidre said as she took a step and groaned. She took her mother’s hand instinctively when it was offered. “I don’t recall getting this sore when you taught me how to ride a bike.”

  “Everything gets tougher when we get older,” Brigit said, grinning.

  Deidre smiled and walked alongside her mom. She wondered where Nick was and glanced back. He stood watching the two of them, a subtle but unmistakable expression of satisfaction on his face. She held out her free hand to him and he came alongside her to take it. Brigit noticed the gesture and took on a satisfied expression herself.

  Deidre didn’t mind their apparent watching over her. For the first time in a long time she felt at peace with herself and the world.

  “What are you doing for Christmas Eve, Nick?” Brigit asked as they strolled toward the farmhouse.

  Nick’s gray eyes flickered over Deidre. “I can’t say that I have any set plans,” he said neutrally.

  Brigit paused in the drive. Since Deidre held hands with both Nick and her mother, they came to a halt along with her.

  “Christmas is only a few days away. Won’t you two please come to my house to celebrate?” Brigit entreated earnestly.

  Deidre glanced at Nick, but he was studying her for a reaction. A movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She glanced toward the farmhouse. There was a dark blue car parked on the drive that hadn’t been there when they left for their ride. A man was standing next to the open driver’s side door holding a telephoto camera up to his face.

  “Get out of here,” Nick barked so abruptly that it startled Deidre. He broke his hold and took several aggressive steps forward.

  The man immediately ducked back into the car, slammed the door and whipped the car around in the turnabout. He drove rapidly down the drive toward the rural route.

  “Who was that?” Brigit asked, bewildered.

  “Photographer.” He looked at Deidre grimly. “Either someone tipped off the press about me being here in Harbor Town or someone has leaked the story about you and Lincoln’s will.”

  Deidre was initially more amazed than anything else that someone would want to sneak photos of Nick or her. Who cared about her life? Nick’s life was more understandable, but still...why had he reacted so intently?

  When she fully took in Nick’s grim profile as he drove them back to town, some of the seriousness of the situation started to settle. Things felt even weightier when she saw Nick checking his rearview mirror.

  Was he actually worried they were being followed?

  What if this were the beginning of a media frenzy? She dreaded the idea of the press making insulting insinuations about herself, her mother, Derry, Lincoln or Nick, and what if they began to turn their focus onto Marc and his campaign?

  “What are you most worried will happen if the press knows about the will?” she asked Nick privately as they drove to Cedar Cottage.

  “I’m not so much worried about what will happen. I’m worried about who leaked the story and why,” he said.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” Deidre asked when Nick didn’t shut off the engine once he’d pulled up next to Cedar Cottage.

  “I should go back to the hotel and see if we can’t contain things if there has been a leak. I’ll need to speak with Carrie Sharr, our pubic relations officer, and come up with some kind of official position in regard to Lincoln’s will.”

  “Official position?” Deidre asked weakly.

  He looked at her somberly. “It’s not a big deal, Deidre. We would have had to do it soon, anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the press to get ahold of this so quickly. Do me a favor and don’t leave the cottage for a few hours until I get back.”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise. “Is it that serious that I have to hide behind closed doors?”

  He shook his head. He removed his glove and touched her jaw. “I’m just being cautious.”

  “All right,” Deidre agreed.

  He nodded once and put his hand back in his glove.

  She returned to the cottage, closed and double locked the door. She’d never once considered since finding out about Lincoln’s will that there might come a time when her privacy was compromised. The realization struck her as unsettling...even sinister somehow. She’d spent her whole life taking her anonymity for granted. Now, perhaps all of that was going to change.

  She tried to shake off her oppressive mood. She lit the Christmas tree and took a hot bath to soothe her sore muscles. Afterward, she turned on the radio and set out the ingredients to bake some cookies. She was in the process of spooning dough onto a cookie sheet when she heard a knock. She wiped off her hands and headed toward the door, pausing as she reached out to open it. What if it wasn’t Nick?

  She kept the chain lock hooked and opened the door only a few inches, peering cautiously into the crevice.

  “John,” she muttered in shock when she saw John Kellerman standing on her front porch.

  “Hello, Deidre. I thought it was high time you and I had a talk.”

  * * *

  A few minutes later Deidre placed a cup of coffee in front of John Kellerman and sat down at the table warily. His distinguished appearance and elegant suit made her feel like she was attending a business meeting instead of sitting in a cozy kitchen wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt, the delicious scent of sugar cookies beginning to permeate the air.

  “What can I do for you, John?”

  “I just thought it was important for us to meet, that’s all. You have been named as the co-owner of the company. I’m not the only executive officer who’d like to meet with you.”

  “I’ll bet,” Deidre muttered under her breath. Her gaze flickered up to meet his. “So everyone at DuBois knows about Lincoln’s new will?” she asked, thinking about the photographer today and Nick’s concern about a news leak.

  “Only the top officers—a mere handful of people.”

  “I see,” Deidre said, although she wasn’t so sure she did. Nick hadn’t mentioned anything about telling the top people at DuBois about Lincoln’s will, or Deidre or where they might find her. She’d known he’d told John, of course, but that’s all. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. If John was in on things, it made sense that the other top executives were, as well. “I was under the impression that things were sort of on hold until I heard about the genetic testing.”

  John nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “Yes, that piece of information is crucial, of course. And it’s silly for us to plan any future contingencies until we have it in hand.”

  Deidre’s spine stiffened. She didn’t care for his haughty coldness. “We?” she emphasized
. The way he’d answered her question gave her the distinct, unsettling impression that the “we” John referred to were the DuBois executives. “I thought that whatever happens after we get the test results was exclusively up to Nick. He was the one whose shares were diminished in the new will. He was the previous sole heir.”

  “That’s right,” John agreed, nodding his head. “If the testing comes back negative in regard to paternity, there’s a clear course of action, of course. Lincoln will have changed his will on mistaken information that you were his biological daughter. If the testing proves Lincoln was your father...well.” John gave a small, polite smile that struck Deidre as fake. “I assume Nick is being honest with you about the fact that he’s unsure precisely what he’ll do if the results come back positive.”

  “He’s been honest with me,” Deidre said. A chill skittered down her spine. Her hands and feet suddenly felt cold.

  John gave her a confidential nod. “I understand from him that you two have grown close. It’s good to hear he’s been up front with you about his concerns in regard to Lincoln’s letter.”

  She started to question him but paused. Did she really want to hear whatever this stranger had to say?

  “I don’t blame Nick, of course. It’s very troubling, that letter,” John mused.

  “You’ve seen it?” Deidre asked hollowly. She recalled how she’d asked to see Lincoln’s last letter to Nick and how Nick had refused her.

  I have my reasons for saying no, Deidre. Don’t take offense.

  “Oh, yes. Of course I’ve seen the letter. It’s a very important piece of evidence when this case—” He paused suddenly and gave her an apologetic nod. “If this case should go to trial. That letter makes it clear Lincoln wasn’t entirely in his right mind at the time he changed the will and declared you and Nick coheirs.”

  “Really?” she asked. The coldness had now reached her heart.

  John shrugged dispassionately. “I knew Lincoln for thirty-one years. He was an astonishingly acute business leader. That letter he gave Nick is clearly the incoherent ramblings of someone with an organic dementia. No one—least of all a court of law—will consider his disorganized pleas to Nick as anything but the product of a sad, sick man.”