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Authors: Kay Hooper

Finding Laura (26 page)

BOOK: Finding Laura
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But Daniel lifted his head finally, gazing down at her with eyes that were hot and a taut look in his face. “Christ,” he muttered, and it sounded more like an invocation than a curse. His hands slid down over her bottom, and he held her harder against him.

Laura heard a sensual little sound escape her, but shook her head as she tried to fight the urgency of what she felt—and what she felt in him. “Daniel … we can’t do this. Not here. Not now. Josie’s probably back from her walk and somewhere in the house. Kerry’s still in the music room. Amelia and your mother will be home anytime now. We can’t …”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his hands still moving slowly on her, caressingly, in the intimate and unmistakable touch of a lover. Then he said, “Just how discreet do you think we can be?”

Laura thought of how rarely she was going to be without Amelia’s company until the portrait was finished, and how even more rarely the house would be empty save her and Daniel, and realized only then how difficult it was going to be for them to spend any time alone together—especially given her reluctance to sleep in his bed. Before she could think of anything to say, Daniel went on in a deliberate tone.

“An occasional night at your apartment? Stolen minutes in the attic from time to time? Meeting out in the gardens somewhere, time and weather permitting? Do you really think that’s going to be enough, Laura? For either of us?”

She drew a breath. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but if Amelia finds out about us, she won’t like it. Will she?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“She warned me against you, Daniel. Twice. It seems pretty clear to me that she wanted me to stay away from you, whatever her motives. And don’t pretend you don’t know that she never would have left me here in the house today if she had expected you to come home early.”

“No, I suppose she wouldn’t have.”

“Well, then? It’s obvious she won’t be happy.”

He was still gazing at her, but his eyes took on a distant look for an instant, and when he answered, his voice was thoughtful. “I don’t know. Perhaps she will. The warning to you might have been intended to … draw out the chase, so to speak. To keep us apart as long as possible in order to drive the level of tension high. Higher. She might have thought I’d be more distracted if you were kept away from me, at least for a while.”

Laura felt a little jolt. “Distracted from what?”

Daniel smiled slightly. “From the games we play. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Are they games? Just games?”

“What else could they be?”

“A power struggle,” Laura heard herself say. “A real one.”

Daniel eased back away from her a bit, his hands moving to the less intimate area of her shoulders, as if he had been distracted from passion—or wanted to be. Laura dropped her own hands and linked her fingers together as she studied his face. There was something almost speculative
in his expression for an instant, and then he was impassive.

“Is that so surprising? There’s a great deal at stake in the finances of this family, including the future of everyone who lives here.”

“And you feel Amelia would jeopardize that future?”

He seemed to hesitate, then said bluntly, “When I came of age eleven years ago, it was to find that Amelia had very nearly bankrupted the family. Oh, we looked good on paper, but in reality we were a few short years away from selling off property in order to keep up with loans and taxes. She had spent a fortune since my father died, and had little to show for it. Some incredibly expensive jewelry she keeps locked in her safe, mementos from a couple of world cruises she’d taken, ownership of several racehorses that had never won and never would. She’d neglected business or made bad decisions, invested in ridiculous schemes and absurd inventions, and spent money as if it meant nothing. I had no choice but to confront her with the facts.”

Laura had no trouble imagining how tense that little showdown must have been, given Amelia’s pride and obsessive need to control the people and events around her, and she couldn’t help wincing inwardly. “I heard—that is, I read somewhere that Amelia technically controls the family business and finances as long as she lives. How could you get her to give up any control at all to you?”

“David’s will was very specific; he established a kind of everlasting trust to be administered by various family members rather than an outright inheritance that would pass on to a descendant after his death—and out of his control. He wanted Amelia to run things while she lived, with control of the trust passing after her through the male line first: to my father, then myself or Peter, then my son if I should have one. So Amelia was left in control of everything—providing none of David’s descendants could prove
during her lifetime that she was a bad custodian, a condition that applies equally to anyone in charge.

“My father wasn’t interested in the family business and didn’t care how she ran things. Until about a month before he died, when something—I don’t know what—made him uneasy enough to begin looking into the family finances. I imagine he found, or would have, the seeds of disaster I found ten years later. I’ll never know. He was killed. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

“Or just a tragic accident,” Laura replied steadily.

Daniel nodded. “Or an accident. In any case, I confronted Amelia with plenty of proof she’d been a lousy custodian, and told her she had a choice. Either I took her to court to sue for control, or she’d give me control while remaining at least publicly and tacitly in charge of things.”

“You had to know it’d be a fight from that day on,” Laura said. “She wouldn’t want the public humiliation of a competency hearing, but it must have been equally galling for her to know you were actually in control of the family business and finances.”

“Which brings us back to the games Amelia and I play,” he said. “She still has the legal authority to make decisions, since I haven’t challenged that publicly, and for eleven years she’s been testing the boundaries, pushing and pushing to see how far I’ll let her go. Little things, mostly, small battles of authority. Relatively unimportant decisions overruled by her. Posturing at board meetings. Deliberately acting against my wishes in minor matters. And running things here in the house with an iron hand, of course, imposing her will and her tastes and preferences on the entire family.”

“What about the rest of the family? Do they know how things really stand?”

“Alex does. Josie’s probably guessed. As for the others, no. They assume I’m actively in charge because Amelia’s getting older, but that I’m more or less following her
wishes, not that I hold the actual power. It’s a pretense Amelia very carefully keeps alive, though more outside this house than in. Mother and Kerry aren’t interested, and Anne never sees beyond her own problems, so Amelia doesn’t fight me much here. Or I don’t fight her.”

“Did Peter know?”

With detachment, Daniel said, “He found out when he tried to wheedle a European sports car out of Amelia when he turned twenty.”

“Did he … try to get the car out of you after that?”

“No. He knew better. I expected him to live within his very generous allowance, something I made clear to him.”

Trying to sort through all this, Laura said slowly, “Since you suspect Amelia had something to do with her husband’s death, and your father’s, aren’t you concerned that she might try to get you out of the way?”

“I told you I didn’t really believe she killed David,” Daniel reminded her.

“Yes. And I didn’t believe you.”

Surprising her, he smiled.

“All right. Then let’s just say that I believe in being cautious, at least up to a point. Amelia knows very well that I have a large envelope kept safely by the lawyers, to be opened in the event of my death—natural or otherwise. Nothing in David’s trust says a descendant has to be alive when proving Amelia a bad custodian, and she knows it.”

Laura felt a cold hand slide up her spine at even the possibility of Daniel’s death, and the strength of the feeling shook her. Trying to push that aside, she asked distractedly, “What would happen in that case?”

“You mean, if I died childless, who would take over? Anne would be David’s only living descendant. Control of the trust would change over to the female line. If Anne didn’t want the job of managing things—and she wouldn’t—then business decisions and family finances
would be handled by a team of financial advisors and the family lawyers for the duration. That would continue unless and until Anne had a child to come of age and take over authority. If she dies childless, the trust is broken and Alex inherits everything outright.”

“As the only blood Kilbourne left?”

“That’s the way David wanted it.” Daniel shrugged, adding, “And that brings us all the way back to where we started—with how Amelia would feel about us. Remember?”

“We didn’t get that far off track,” Laura murmured.

His hands tightened on her shoulders, but he didn’t pull her closer. “Maybe not. It just took a while to explain why Amelia might be pleased by this. In any case, I think she just might be.”

“But what if she isn’t?” Laura looked up at him steadily. “And what about the others? I’m in an awkward position here, you know that. Even if the others believe I didn’t kill Peter, I was still suspected of it—
and
of being his mistress. Then within a matter of days I—I end up in
your
bed? Jeez, it sounds awful even to me.”

He did pull her close then. “Never mind how it sounds. How does it feel?”

She caught her breath, avoiding his intense gaze. “Daniel, don’t.”

“Why? Because you can’t think clearly? Because you can’t be sensible and rational? Neither can I.” As he had in the attic, he framed her face with his hands to make her look at him. “I want you, Laura. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I don’t really give a damn who knows that.”

Without her conscious volition, Laura’s hands lifted to rest on his chest. She could feel the intensity in him, the determination, and the force of it was almost overwhelming. Almost. “I just need a little time.” Her voice was unsteady despite all her efforts, and she knew
she sounded shaken. “Please, Daniel. Everything’s happened so fast, I—”

He kissed her with a sudden, startling gentleness, and when he raised his head again, the intensity was gone—or hidden. He was smiling a bit ruefully. “I guess eleven years of battles with Amelia have taken their toll; I can’t seem to stop trying to get my way. I’m sorry, Laura. Of course you need some time to get used to this, I know that. I think we can manage to be discreet, at least for a while.”

She was a little surprised that he’d given in, but grateful too. “I just think … it might only take one more straw to break this family. I don’t want to be it.”

His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones caressingly, and then Daniel let her go. “We’re not so fragile as you think, but never mind. It’s probably a good idea to keep this to ourselves right now. Look, it’s getting late, and I have some calls to make. Why don’t I leave you to your painting?”

Laura nodded, conscious of feeling bereft when she forced her hands to drop from his chest. She didn’t say anything until he turned away and went toward the doorway. “Daniel?”

He paused and half turned to look back at her, his brows lifting questioningly.

“You said Amelia might have warned me to … draw out the chase. To keep us apart as long as possible in order to distract you. How did she know? I mean, how could she be so sure you even wanted me?”
Since I sure as hell never guessed
.

Daniel smiled faintly. “Secrets don’t live long in this house, Laura. It’s something to keep in mind. I’ll see you at dinner.”

She stared after him for several minutes, frowning, grappling with the uneasy possibility that this afternoon Daniel had moved the most vital chess piece in the entire game. Was that why he had followed her up to the attic?
He wanted her, yes, Laura didn’t doubt that—but he wouldn’t be the first man to combine a pleasurable sexual conquest with some other deliberate purpose. And though his explanation of the power struggle between him and Amelia certainly rang true, there was more to it, Laura was sure. Something else was going on between those two, something far more dangerous than Daniel was willing to admit.

And Laura still felt herself very much a pawn.

It would be devastating, she knew, if she found out that the interlude in the attic and everything after it had only been a means to an end, a deliberate move by Daniel to accomplish God only knew what result in his struggle with Amelia. That was the kind of thing that could destroy a woman, especially if she felt too much for the man using her as a pawn.…

She pushed it all into the back of her mind and turned to her painting, desperate for something, anything, to keep her distracted, if only for a while. Her gaze fixed on that lower corner, where Daniel had indicated the forgotten house, and after a moment she found herself reaching for her paints and brush. When she tried to decide consciously what kind of house belonged there by the lake, her mind was maddeningly unhelpful. Finally she drew a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, then just dabbed her brush in some paint and began painting without thinking at all.

A small gray house took shape beneath her brush. A stone house. It had a thatched roof, and smoke curled from the stone chimney. There was a small garden plot, she realized, almost hidden from this angle by the little house; the edge of it could just be seen. And a woodpile off to the side. And there was a path down to the lake, where you went several times a day to draw water. And another path, much fainter, that led off through the woods to the nearest neighbors, miles away. And you couldn’t see the barn,
because the angle was wrong, but it was over there past that big rock.…

Laura shook her head, a little dazed, and stared at the painting.
I know this place. I’ve been here
. But how could she, if it was in Scotland?

“Hi, Laura. Hey—didn’t mean to startle you.”

She looked at Josie and managed a smile as her heartbeat returned to normal.
Jumpy. I’m getting so damned jumpy
. “Sometimes my imagination takes me … far away. Are you just now back from your walk? I thought you must have gone back into the house by now.”

BOOK: Finding Laura
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