“I know.”
“Stop this car. Now!”
He clasped his hand around her wrist to keep her from grabbing the wheel. “Just relax.”
Eyes as dark as midnight glared murderously at him. “You lied.”
“I said I would take you to the airport, and I will. Tomorrow.”
“This is kidnapping.”
“There’s a phone in the glove compartment. Call the police.”
“I can’t. You’re holding my hand.”
He released his grip. What was he doing? He had never taken a woman to his house before, let alone lie, threaten and kidnap one to get her there. Was he having his midlife crisis early? She inspired him to do things so out of character, he didn’t recognize himself.
With a moan of displeasure, she settled into the bucket seat and rested her head against the window. Her fingers clenched into tight fists. Could he blame her for being furious?
The Hawthorne brothers had behaved true to form throughout dinner. Only Mikki failed to react as expected. How could he bring up the subject of a blood test now? He would consider himself lucky if she consented to meet with Richard again before returning to New York.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Silence.
“You didn’t eat much at dinner.”
Silence and a vicious scowl.
“Was it the food or the company?”
Her answer was a most unladylike gesture and one he probably deserved.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You knew that would happen.” Her gaze held his in accusation.
He looked away and shrugged ruefully. “I had an idea it might.”
“But my feelings didn’t matter, did they?”
“That’s not true. I didn’t think you would care.” She recoiled. He was sinking deeper with each word. “I mean...”
“I know what you mean, Clayton.” She uttered his name with distaste. “A penniless street urchin like me would put up with anything to get her hands on a chunk of the Hawthorne fortune.”
He shook his head in adamant denial. “No! I meant that I’ve been ignoring their bad manners for so long, I just assumed you would, too.”
She arched her eyebrow skeptically. “I must be getting soft. You almost sounded sincere that time.”
Clayton gave his full attention to the road ahead. She was soft, all right, and in all the right places. The thought made him anything but soft. He wasn’t having a midlife crisis. He was reverting to the adolescent days of raging hormones, a realization that chipped at his control and made him anything but happy.
Four
Mikki blinked her eyes and cursed her own foolishness. Despite popular belief, dreams weren’t free. They exacted an emotional price far greater than she could afford to pay.
Pain seared through her. Even her stepfather, at his lying, thieving worst, had shown her more respect than Joseph or William. Not that Clayton had fared any better, but he had known what to expect.
She shivered. He glanced at her, then switched off the air-conditioning. She was surprised he had noticed her reaction. Working in the diner, she had met all kinds, but none like him. As starched as Chinese laundry, he could be the poster boy for the ultraconservative party. Was he that uptight in bed?
Mikki jerked her head up. Where had that come from?
“Where had what come from?” he asked.
When she realized she had spoken the words aloud, she felt her cheeks flush hot. She was indulging in fantasies about his sex life when she was flaming mad. Lord help her if she ever started to like the man.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You look a bit warm.”
She pulled the fabric of her blouse away from her skin. “Perhaps you could put the air-conditioning back on.” She would rather freeze than admit the truth.
“We’re almost there.”
“Where?”
He didn’t answer, and she wouldn’t ask again. Without her suitcase or purse she was at his mercy.
As the sun was setting, he pulled the car into the entrance of Lionshead Condominiums. The sprawling complex of luxury townhouses was silhouetted against the purple and red sky.
“You live here?” she asked.
“Yes. What did you expect?”
“I thought you’d drop me off at a Motel 8.”
“A what?” His voice pitched.
“A Motel 8. The Ritz Carlton of the economically challenged.”
“Economically challenged?”
“The politically correct term for people who live near poverty level. It sounds more delicate so people don’t have to think about children going to bed hungry at night.”
He stopped the car across from one of the units. His eyes narrowed sorrowfully. “Is that what your childhood was like?”
“No. We always had a place to live and my stepfather was adept at finding ‘alternative shopping’ methods.” At least he used to be. How had he managed without his underage stepdaughter doing the dirty work for him? Would he really be foolish enough to perpetrate a fraud when a simple blood test would blow his scam? Max had never been a stupid man.
“It sounds like a poor environment to grow up in,” Clayton noted.
“Things could have been worse.”
“I guess,” he muttered.
“But you couldn’t imagine how, right?”
He removed the keys from the ignition. As he struggled for words, she felt guilty for placing the blame on him. He wasn’t responsible for the path her life had taken.
“That wasn’t fair.” She touched his arm, and he tensed. Releasing him quickly, she mumbled, “Sorry.”
He nodded sharply. “That’s all right.”
Was it her touch, or would he have the same reaction to any physical contact? Although his affection for his aunt had been evident, he hadn’t offered her a hug or kiss on the cheek when he had greeted her earlier. He was a complicated man and Mikki didn’t have enough time to figure him out.
A swirl of hot air surrounded her as she slipped from the car. The smell of the sea hung on the breeze. She licked her lips and tasted the salt. “How far is the ocean?”
He drew his eyebrows together. “Ocean? You mean the bay? You can see it from the deck upstairs.”
“No wonder you prefer to live here.”
Bitterness tinged his rich laughter. “The view had nothing to do with it.”
She recalled the scene at dinner. “I’m sure it didn’t.”
“Let me get your suitcase.”
A man of intense mystery when it came to his feelings, he shied away from any conversation that centered on him. Why was he so guarded? Why did she care? Tomorrow he would drop her off at the airport and that would be the end of their involvement.
Unless she turned out to be Richard’s daughter. All she had to do was let a doctor poke her vein, and if the results were positive her acceptance was guaranteed. If not, at least she would know. So,