“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.
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