Novels 03 After Twilight, page 21
Could the whole thing be that simple?
The storm had blown itself out, leaving behind a beautiful night. The moon shone brightly against the rocky ground, silvering the stones that dotted the meadow. If Alex had died without telling his brother where the money was, then it was logical that Max would believe Kacy might know where it was.
Was it possible that Max had been jealous of Kacy’s involvement with his brother? Or worse still, did Max believe Kacy had something to do with his twin’s death?
It was all so bloody confusing and, without confronting Max, impossible to straighten out. Braedon watched a cloud drift lazily across the moon. No. He would find a way to get to the bottom of this. For his own peace of mind and for Kacy.
If Max Madison had anything to do with the forgeries, Braedon intended to see him put away for a long time. And if he was indeed behind all that had happened to Kacy, well, then he’d be lucky if he lived long enough to see prison again.
There was still an overriding problem, though. Before he could do anything else, he had to find Max Madison.
Max stood at the hotel window, watching a cloud briefly obliterate the moon. It was almost full. A hunter’s paradise. He smiled. He was soon to be the hunter. He’d made up his mind. Tomorrow was the day.
He’d take out the bitch and nail that greasy little wop, too. Nice and tidy. And if he was lucky, he’d convince Kirstin to tell him where the money was hidden. If not …
He shrugged. It wasn’t as if he was hurting for cash.
Revenge was far more important than money. He owed it to Anson. And, more important, to Alex.
Max watched as the moon bathed the Irish countryside in shimmering light. This time tomorrow, Kirstin Macgrath would be dead and his brother could finally rest in peace.
“For you, Alex. Always for you.”
Kacy stirred, opening sleepy eyes. Braedon slept sprawled out across the chair. It didn’t look particularly comfortable, but he seemed to be past caring. His face in slumber lost the hard edge it often had when he was awake. As though the man he’d become was discarded for the time being, and the boy he’d been was allowed to come out to play. It was a whimsical thought and she smiled at her flight of fantasy.
Braedon was who he was. And she loved all of him. So she’d try to forgive the part that had lied to her. The hurt wasn’t gone entirely, but the anger was. She honestly couldn’t say she’d have done anything differently if the situations had been reversed.
In fact, truth be told, she had kept things from him. Maybe not as ruthlessly as he’d done, but certainly with the intent to conceal. Braedon had no idea who she really was. Again, she smiled. In some ways, he knew her more intimately than anyone ever had, but the fact remained that she had lied to him, too. At least by omission.
“You’re awake.”
She started out of her reverie, meeting his sleepy gaze. “Just barely.” The moon was still out, its light coming in through the window, mixing with the glow of the table lamp.
He came to sit on the bed, reaching for her hand, his eyes concerned. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore.” She stretched, her muscles groaning with the movement. “And sleepy.” And content. The thought echoed around in her brain, but she dared not repeat it out loud. With Braedon here, somehow everything seemed right with the world. All the rest of it held at bay. Suspended, at least for the moment. She was in the magic circle. And part of her was loath to say anything that would break the enchantment of the moment.
“Kacy, I’ve been thinking about what happened this morning. What I didn’t say. What I should have said. I was wrong. And I really am sorry.”
She stared up into the deep blue of his eyes. “I think I understand why you did it.”
“I don’t want secrets between us.”
“Neither do I.” And she meant it. For the first time in all her life, her father’s voice was silent, and she knew what she had to do. “I haven’t told you everything either.” His brows drew together and a shadow crossed his face. She shivered, but forced herself to continue before she lost her nerve.
“I haven’t told you about my father.” She drew in a breath for fortification.
Chapter 21
“YOUR FATHER? I don’t understand.” Braedon’s voice reflected his confusion.
Kacy stared at the ceiling. Remembering. Trying to make it sound like something romantic and not something sordid. “My mother was a beautiful, talented woman, but she was from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.”
“Fin said she was from Lindoon.”
“Then you probably know some of it already. She left home when she was young. I think she thought she’d find riches at the end of the rainbow. And the end for her was in New York. She found modest success as a model, but it was long before the supermodels ruled, and so she only got by, really.”
She stopped, not certain she could continue. He squeezed her hand encouragingly. “She met a man. The love of her life, actually. He was young and handsome—and he was married. But that didn’t stop them. They began to see more and more of each other. Always in private, away from prying eyes. My mother quit modeling. It was too public and he thought it was dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“It was a different time, Braedon. People didn’t get divorced as much. And even when they did, it wasn’t acceptable, especially in society circles.”
“There had to be more to it than that.”
“There was.” She sighed, knowing that somehow it was time to lay all her ghosts to rest. “My father married into a very powerful family. He spent the better part of his life working his way to the top of his father-in-law’s company. I’m not sure that anything mattered to him as much as his quest for power.”
“But that alone wouldn’t prevent him from having a mistress. It wasn’t exactly the dark ages.”
“There was his wife. Millicent. She was very possessive. And my father believed that if she found out about my mother, she’d divorce him.”
“And there goes his meal ticket.” Braedon’s voice sounded harsh, judgmental.
“It wasn’t as bad as all that. Really. My father just didn’t want to lose what he’d worked so hard to build. Anyway, my mother and father were happy in their own way, I think. And before too long, there was tangible evidence of their affair.”
“You.” His voice was gentle now, and he stroked her arm lightly with one hand.
“Me. I was born in upstate New York. Father bought a house for us. He visited as often as he could, but of course it wasn’t nearly enough. And the rest of the time we were completely isolated.”
“Why?”
“Because of Millicent. She couldn’t have children. And that only made her more possessive of my father. She threatened him.”
“With divorce,” Braedon offered dryly.
“With more than that, I think. My existence was a reminder of Millicent’s failings.” She shivered. “My father never talked about it all that much, but I think he believed that if she ever discovered I existed, she might actually harm me. So we stayed on the estate. Always.”
“But what about shopping and school?”
“We had staff to handle the shopping and I had tutors. All generously paid to keep our secret.”
“What about friends?”
“There weren’t any. We couldn’t take the risk.”
“It must have been a lonely childhood.”
“In some ways it was. But when my father was with us it was wonderful. We were a family.” She nervously ran a hand through her hair. “It was a lot harder on my mother than it was on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“She withered and died a little each day he was away. He was her whole world.”
“But she had you.”
Kacy smiled wistfully. “She loved me. But not like she loved him. And when he was with us—she was magnificent. Charming, beautiful, funny. But when he was gone, she went inside herself somewhere, to a place I couldn’t reach.”
“As time passed, he came less and less. Not because he didn’t love us, you understand. But because he had another life, a life we couldn’t be a part of. And the more he was gone, the more she withdrew, until one day, when I was eight, she swallowed a bottle of pills and never woke up.”
“Oh, Kacy.” He pulled her into his arms and she nestled into his warmth, letting it comfort her, give her strength.
“I thought it was my fault.” She spoke into his chest, the sound muffled. She felt his hand as it stroked her hair. “I thought I did something to make her go away. To die.”
“You didn’t do anything, Kacy.”
She pulled back, leaning against the pillows. He stretched out beside her, keeping an arm around her shoulders. “I know that now, but not then.”
“What happened?”
“I was sent away. To boarding school in Switzerland. I thought I was being punished. It was all very hush-hush. I wasn’t even allowed to use my real name.”
“Sister Margaretta.”
“Exactly. Kirstin died and Kacy was born.”
“Did your father visit?”
“Sometimes. But mainly I had holidays alone. I wasn’t allowed to go with any of the other girls. They might accidentally figure out who I was. The threat of Millicent was always there, lurking in the shadows. Kacy Macgrath—persona non grata. For all practical purposes, I didn’t exist.”
He tightened his hold on her. “It must have been horrible for you.”
“Not really. I’d never lived any other way. Sometimes I’d see other families and wish that was me. But most of the time I accepted it. The only time it was ever different at all was when I was really little. I used to come here with my mother, to my Granny Macgrath’s. Lindoon was magical. I felt normal here. I never was allowed to stay long, but while I was here, I could pretend I was like other kids. I could pretend the secrets didn’t exist.”
“That’s why you came here after Alex drowned.”
She nodded. “I thought it would provide sanctuary.”
“But it hasn’t.”
“No. I should have known better.”
“But surely when you grew up you escaped from your father’s prison?” He sounded angry again.
“No. For a little while I had something approaching normalcy. My father had attained great power by that point. He ran his father-in-law’s company, making millions. But then the old man died.”
“Your father?”
She shook her head. “No. His father-in-law. And the noose my father had been wearing all his life tightened again. Millicent’s father had left everything to her. All of it. Everything my father had worked for all those years. Millicent had him in a stranglehold.”
“One of his own making, Kacy.”
“Don’t judge him so harshly, Braedon. He had to keep me in the shadows. Not just to protect himself, but to protect me.”
“From Millicent.” He frowned, stroking her hair with one hand. “That’s not love, Kacy.”
She tensed, pain shooting through her. “I think he thought it was. I’ve always been taken care of. The best of everything.”
“Except a life.”
“No, I even had a life. An odd one, to be sure, but it had its moments.” She smiled up at him, willing him to understand. “Even after he died, he took care of me financially.”
“The trust fund.”
“I have enough to keep me comfortably.”
“When did he die?”
“Just before I married Alex. That’s why I …” She trailed off, embarrassed to admit she’d married a stranger out of loss and grief and loneliness.
“That’s why you used Kirstin again.”
“It was stupid, really. A little rebellion after years of perfect behavior, but I was angry and hurt. I didn’t even know he was ill.”
“Sometimes there isn’t time for good-bye, Kacy.”
“No. He was sick a really long time. He knew. He arranged for me to be taken care of, all duly cloaked in secrecy, accounts transferred to other accounts and then on to others, but he never took the time to say good-bye. Not even a letter.”
She stopped, trying to pull herself back into control. “I loved him so much. And I don’t think I was ever anything to him but a painful reminder of my mother. Every time he looked at me, he saw her. And he wanted her.”
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and Braedon pulled her close again. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her skin and she let it soothe her, calm her. “I guess I’d always thought that someday, he’d acknowledge me. He promised he would. Stupid, I know, but I had dreams that he’d whisk me off to his penthouse in New York, introduce me to the world as his daughter.
“I wanted so much to be a normal part of his life. But I couldn’t be, and frankly, I don’t think he ever wanted me to be. And then when he died, I knew it would never happen. That my legacy was to protect his secret for the rest of my life.”
“From Millicent.”
She bit her lower lip, nodding. “And for one stupid moment I rebelled.”
“Your marriage.”
She nodded miserably.
“Did Alex know about all of this? About your father?”
“No. Even in my rebellion I couldn’t talk about it. Maybe it was too ingrained in me. Or maybe even in the midst of my foolish attachment to Alex, I realized he couldn’t be trusted. I don’t know. All I know for certain is that I acted like a fool, and you already know where that left me.”
“With Alex’s mess.”
She rolled away, wiping the tears from her eyes. She needed to finish this. Finally let it go. “His mess, yes, and my own stupidity. When Alex’s goons came after me, I foolishly thought Millicent might help me.”
He rolled over on his side, facing her. “You told her who you were?”
She met his gaze, the moment at hand. “Yeah. Kirstin Macgrath—Kirstin Caldwell Macgrath. My father was—”
“Caldwell Bremmerton. Of course. How could I have been so stupid?” He laughed, his reaction not exactly what she had expected.
“I don’t think it’s funny.” Her heart constricted. She felt deflated, hurt. He thought this was a joke.
“Oh, honey, I’m not laughing at you. Honestly.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m laughing at me. I found a picture of you with Bremmerton and I thought …” His voice trailed off and he sheepishly met her gaze.
“You thought my father and I were—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
“I certainly didn’t know he was your father. I saw how you were looking at him. I was jealous, Kacy.”
Relief flooded through her. He wasn’t laughing at her. And he wasn’t repelled either. In fact, he’d actually been jealous— of her father, no less. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat, but died before it could escape. “You were going through my things?”
“No.” He held up a hand in defense. “I found it on the floor. By the fireplace. It must have fallen there when the cottage was trashed.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “But you knew my father.”
He blew out a breath, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Yes. I knew him. We had business dealings.”
She searched his face. “And you didn’t like him.”
“No, Kacy, I didn’t. And I can’t say that your story makes me feel any differently.” He pulled her back into his arms, his lips brushing her hair. “But I’m not certain I can be objective. Tell me about Millicent.”
“There isn’t much to tell.”
“I take it she wasn’t pleased to discover Caldwell had a daughter.”
“She threatened me. Threatened to destroy my father’s memory and to make my life a living hell.”
“And you believed her?”
“I didn’t really analyze it. Between Alex’s goons and Millicent’s threats I just wanted to escape. So I did what I do best. I disappeared. Again.”
“Until I found you.”
“Until then.” She knew suddenly that what she wanted more than anything was to be with this man, to have him hold her like this every night for the rest of her life. She sighed and nestled closer, feeling his heart beat against hers.
He kissed her gently, holding her safe in the circle of his arms. “Try to get some sleep, princess. Everything will look better in the morning.”
The words were nice. Comforting. But she knew they weren’t true. Couldn’t be true. Not until they’d figured out how to stop Max Madison.
Chapter 22
BRAEDON WOKE TO the soft drumming of rain on the roof. He groaned. Memories of yesterday chilling him right through the bedcovers. Kacy stirred, her head tucked tight against his chest. He groaned again, his body responding just to her nearness. Torture. She snuggled closer, one leg thrown across him.
Oh, but what a way to go.
She moaned softly and tilted back her head, green eyes open, sparkling with desire. “Braedon.” His name was a whispered entreaty. One he did not have to have offered twice. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him, his hands tangling in her hair.
He searched her eyes, making sure of his welcome, and then when she smiled, he lowered his mouth to hers, teasing her with his tongue, tasting the sweet honey of her lips. He traced a path with his mouth along the soft curve of her chin, down the column of her neck, relishing the tiny shivers his touch sent streaking through her.
He slid the strap of her nightgown off of one shoulder, his fingers curving around her smooth skin, massaging lower and lower until he held her breast in his hand, the nipple tight and hard against his palm. She arched against his hand, driven by her need, and his body reacted immediately, desire surging through him, a tidal wave of emotion threatening to unman him.
With fumbling hands, they removed their clothes, touching, exploring—the need to be skin to skin driving them to a frenzy.
Finally, when they were both naked, she kissed him, her tongue leaving trails of hot fire as it traced the contours of his mouth. Their gazes locked, her eyes dark pools, flecks of silvery gold dancing across the cool green. Eyes a man could lose himself in. And Braedon knew he was already lost. With a sigh, he rolled again, this time positioning her on top of him, her body molded to his.
