Treasured Page 8

  “Come on, Ben. It’s no secret that the two of you are tighter than the rest of us. Maybe it’s because you were the youngest when she came to live with us, so she was even more like a mother to you. Or maybe it’s the art thing, but you’re her favorite. I figure she’s bound to share things with you that she doesn’t confide in Mack or me.”

  “You’ve said something like that before, and I still say you’re crazy,” Ben said. “Destiny doesn’t have favorites. Sure, we have a bond because of art, but that’s it. She loves all of us.”

  “I know she loves us. That’s not the point,” Richard said impatiently. “Look, can we talk about this or not?”

  Ben sat back. “Fine. Talk, but I have to tell you that Destiny does not sit around sharing confidences with me, either. She’s meddling in my life these days. She’s not letting me poke around in hers.”

  “That doesn’t mean she hasn’t let something slip from time to time,” Richard insisted. “Here’s the deal. I’ve got a huge problem with the European division. We’ve nearly lost out on a couple of big deals over there because of some minor player who jumps into the mix and drives up the price. So far we’ve only lost one acquisition, but that’s one too many. And I don’t like the fact that it’s always this same guy whose name keeps popping up. It’s like he’s carrying out his own personal vendetta against Carlton Industries. This company of his is not a major player, but he’s smart enough to know precisely what to do to make a muddle of our negotiations.”

  Despite his total lack of interest in the family business, Ben hadn’t been able to avoid absorbing some information over the years. Richard introduced the topic at almost every family gathering. Because of that, so far he was following Richard, but he didn’t see the connection to their aunt.

  “What does any of that have to do with Destiny?” he asked.

  “I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I think this was a man she was involved with years ago. It’s the only explanation I can come up with,” Richard told him.

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Of course. When I brought up his name, she turned pale and flatly refused to tell me anything. She said I was in charge of Carlton Industries and I should deal with it.”

  The whole scenario seemed a little too far-fetched to Ben. Destiny with some long-lost secret love who’d been pining for years and was now making a move on Carlton Industries in retaliation for some slight? He’d always thought the business world was a whole lot more logical and, well, businesslike than that.

  “What makes you think she knows him, much less was involved with him?” he asked Richard. “Maybe she simply doesn’t want to get drawn into company politics.”

  “I had someone in the division over there do some quiet checking. I wanted to see if this man and Destiny could have crossed paths. The guy is British, but he lived in France for several years. In fact, he lived in the very town where Destiny lived at the same time she was there. That can’t be pure coincidence. I even sent my guy over to France to poke around, but people wouldn’t tell him a blessed thing. He said those who remembered her got very protective when he mentioned Destiny’s name.”

  Ben had always known that Destiny had hidden things from them. Because of the vibrant, extraordinary woman she was, he’d also supposed that there had been a man in her life back then. Only recently had she alluded to such a thing, though. Even so, she hadn’t acknowledged a broken heart and she certainly had never mentioned a name.

  “I don’t know, Richard,” Ben said skeptically. “I suppose you could be right. It makes sense that there was someone in her life back then, but why would he be driven to make a play at this late date for companies Carlton Industries wants to acquire?”

  “Beats me,” Richard said candidly. “But I have this gut feeling there’s a connection.”

  “Is he a real threat to the company?”

  “More an annoyance,” Richard admitted. “But I don’t like anything I can’t explain.”

  “Then you need to ask Destiny again.”

  “I thought maybe you could,” Richard suggested, then grinned. “Since you’re bound to be seeing more of her these days than I am, what with the whole Kathleen thing going on.”

  “Ha-ha,” Ben retorted, unamused.

  Richard’s expression sobered at once. “Will you talk to her?”

  “You really are worried, aren’t you?” Ben asked.

  “It’s gnawing at me, yes. And there’s a deal coming up soon that could be really important to our future growth in Europe. I don’t want to have this particular gnat in the mix.”

  Ben nodded slowly. “Okay then, I’ll do what I can, but you know how prickly Destiny is about the past. She’s never wanted us to get the idea that she gave up anything important to come and take care of us. If she blew off your questions, she’s just as likely to blow off mine.”

  “I think we’re past the time when she needs to worry about us feeling insecure about her intentions toward us,” Richard said. “We all know she loves us and that she has no regrets about the choice she made. I just need to know if she walked out on a love affair that could be coming back to haunt us.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out. What’s this man’s name?”

  “William Harcourt.”

  Ben pulled an ever-present pen out of his pocket and jotted the name down on his hand, since he didn’t have paper handy and didn’t trust his memory to even recall the conversation once he’d spent a few hours in his studio. Richard watched him, looking amused.

  “Try not to wash up before you call Destiny,” he advised.

  Ben grinned. “Waterproof ink,” he noted, waving the pen. “I learned that lesson a long time ago. I figure even with a few long, cold showers, I’ve got till the end of the week to remember to chase down Destiny and ask her about this.”

  “Don’t wait that long, okay?”

  Something in his brother’s tone alerted him that this mess was even more serious than Richard had admitted. Ben nodded.

  “I’ll get back to you tonight. Will that do?”

  “Morning’s soon enough,” Richard assured him. “Tonight I have to wallpaper the nursery to keep Melanie from trying to do it herself.”

  Ben chuckled. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate your consideration.”

  “Actually she won’t,” Richard conceded with a shrug. “She’ll sit there and grumble and tell me I’m doing it all wrong.”

  “Then let her do it,” Ben advised.

  “Let her climb a ladder in her condition?” Richard asked with a look of genuine horror. “I don’t think so. I can take three or four nonstop hours of grumbling.”

  “Do you even know how to hang wallpaper?” Ben asked curiously.

  “No, but how hard can it be?”

  Ben smothered a laugh. “I’ll be by tonight.”

  “I told you morning’s soon enough.”

  “Maybe for the report you want,” Ben agreed. “I’m coming by for the entertainment.”

  She had no business going out to the farm, Kathleen told herself even as she turned onto the country road that led to Ben’s. Destiny’s arrival at the restaurant the other night had been fair warning that the meddling and matchmaking were far from over.

  But she’d awakened this morning thinking about Ben—about his art, she corrected, determined to stay focused—and had decided that the only way she’d ever get what she wanted was to keep up the pressure. He’d had two days off now. As distracted as an artist could get, he could easily have forgotten all about her by now.

  Before leaving the house, she’d taken an extra hour to bake some of the bear claws she made for the occasional morning receptions she held for the media to meet artists before their shows opened. She told herself she’d baked them because she’d had a sudden craving for one herself, but the truth was it was another bribe. If the man had a sweet tooth, she was not above exploiting it.

  Just as she reached the end of Ben’s driveway, she saw a car turning onto the main
highway and recognized Richard behind the wheel. She waved at him as he passed and got a friendly wave and a smug grin in return.

  Then she turned into the long drive leading up to the secluded house. Not that she was any expert on recluses, but it seemed to her that Ben’s reputation for craving solitude was slightly exaggerated. In the few days she’d known him, he’d had plenty of company right here at the farm and he’d come into town to seek her out. That didn’t sound like any recluse she’d ever heard about.

  Still, there was no question that his expression was forbidding when he walked out of the house and spotted her just as she was pulling to a stop beside his studio.

  “This place is turning into Grand Central Station,” he complained.

  Kathleen gave him a cheery smile. “I was just thinking the same thing. I saw your brother leaving.”

  Ben’s scowl deepened. “Great. Just great. That will hit the family grapevine as soon as he can hit speed-dial on his cell phone.”

  “Still running scared of Destiny?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Not so much. Besides, I’m here on business, not for pleasure.”

  “A distinction I’m sure Richard will make when he reports your arrival before eight in the morning.”

  She refused to be daunted. “At least he didn’t catch me going in the other direction,” she said. “Just imagine what he could have made of that.”

  Ben sighed, then glimpsed the bag in her hand. His expression brightened marginally. “Have you been baking again?”

  “Bear claws,” she told him. “I took a chance you’d like them.”

  “Real ones?” he asked incredulously. “With almond paste and flaky pastry? Fresh from the oven?”

  She grinned at his undisguised enthusiasm. “As authentic as any bakery’s.”

  He snatched the bag from her hand and peered inside, then drew in a deep, appreciative breath. “Oh, my God.” He peered at her curiously. “Why aren’t you married?”

  “I was. He didn’t seem to care that much for my baking.”

  “Fool.”

  Kathleen laughed. “He was, but not because he didn’t like my pastry.” It was the first time she’d ever been able to laugh at anything related to her marriage. She met Ben’s gaze. “Since you’re obviously awed and impressed, are these going to get me into your studio?”

  His expression turned thoughtful as he took his first bite. “Fantastic,” he murmured, still not answering her question.

  He took another bite, then sighed with seeming rapture. “Incredible, but no.”

  Kathleen was tempted to snatch away the rest of the pastries. Instead, she settled for giving him a severe look. “May I ask why?”

  He grinned. “You’ve made a slight miscalculation. Don’t worry about it. People are always doing that where I’m concerned. They think I know very little about business, because I’m the artistic Carlton, but I did pick up a thing or two.”

  “So?”

  “I’ve obviously got something you want, something you want desperately enough to ply me with baked goods. Why would I cave in too quickly, when holding out will get me more?”

  Despite her frustration, Kathleen couldn’t help chuckling. “You’re impossible.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He gave her a considering look. “But just so your trip won’t be a total waste, how about going over to Richard and Melanie’s with me tonight?”

  Kathleen was startled by the invitation. “For?” she asked cautiously.

  “We get to watch Richard try to hang wallpaper, while Melanie criticizes him.”

  Kathleen laughed. “Oh, hon, I think you’re the one who’s miscalculated. We set foot in there tonight and Richard won’t be hanging that wallpaper alone. You’ll be right in there with him, while Melanie and I sip tea in the kitchen.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “Sure,” she said at once, always eager to take advantage of an opportunity to best someone who’d just tricked her. “If it turns out the way I predict, you show me at least one more painting. If you win, I bring you the pastry of your choice next time I come.”

  He considered the offer, then nodded. “Deal. Oh, and just so you know, we have to take a little side trip past Destiny’s on the way.”

  “As in drive past and don’t stop?” she asked hopefully.

  “Nope,” he said, sounding oddly happy. “We’re dropping in to do a little snooping. I think it might require a woman’s touch. What time does the shop close?”

  “Five-thirty tonight.”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at six.” He looked her over. “You might want to wear something you don’t care too much about.”

  “Oh?”

  “If I wind up papering those walls, sweetheart, you won’t be sipping tea. You’ll be right there next to me.”

  If he had a hundred years, Ben was pretty confident he wouldn’t be able to explain what had made him ask Kathleen to join him in going to see Destiny. Oh, sure, maybe he’d had some vague notion that Destiny would be more inclined to open up to another woman, but it wasn’t as if Kathleen were a trusted confidante. Melanie or Beth might have been better suited to the task.

  No, he’d acted on impulse, something he never did, not since he’d been involved with Graciela, who’d taken impulsive behavior to an art form. Now he was usually thorough and methodical about just about everything, measuring words and actions, because he couldn’t forget the last time he’d made an impulsive decision, demanded that Graciela leave his home immediately, and she had died because of it.

  But despite his misgivings about the invitation to Kathleen for tonight, he hadn’t called and canceled. It was yet another instance of making a commitment and then being too proud, if not too honorable or too stubborn, to break it. Kathleen already thought he was cowardly when it came to his art. He couldn’t give her another reason to believe that he was scared of her or his feelings for her.

  He considered seeing Destiny first, then picking up Kathleen, but figured that would raise a whole lot of questions that he wouldn’t want to answer, as well. Instead, he drove through the horrendous Washington rush hour traffic to the address Kathleen had given him. He was on her doorstep precisely at six. He reassured himself that it was absolutely not because he was anxious to see her again. He knew artists had a reputation for being forgetful, but punctuality was one of those lessons that had been ingrained in him by his parents even before Destiny had come along to reiterate it.

  When Kathleen opened the door, his mouth gaped. He couldn’t help it. She’d taken his advice to wear old, comfortable clothes to heart, but few women could turn that particular sort of getup into a fashion statement. Kathleen did. The faded, low-slung hip-hugger jeans encased her slender legs like a glove and reminded him all too vividly just how long those exquisite legs were. She was wearing a bulky knit sweater that looked warm enough, except for the full two inches of bare skin it left exposed at her waist.

  “Um,” he began, then swallowed hard. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

  She grinned. “I was thinking of wearing a coat over this.”

  He nodded, still trying to get the blood that had rushed to other parts of his anatomy to flow back to his brain. “I meant indoors.”

  Her grin spread. “Your aunt doesn’t have heat?”

  Ben sighed and gave up. He wasn’t going to get her into something that covered that enticing skin without point-blank asking her to change, and he would not do that. She’d only demand to know why, just to hear him admit that he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. He’d simply have to suffer and keep a tight rein on his hormones.

  “Let’s get going, then.”

  Kathleen gave him a knowing smirk. “I’ll get my coat,” she said cheerfully.

  On the drive to Destiny’s, Ben finally managed to untangle his tongue long enough to explain their mission to get at the truth about Destiny and this William Harcourt who was interfering in Carlton I
ndustries business.

  “What makes you think I can get her to say anything, when Richard couldn’t?”

  “You’re a woman. Maybe she’ll confide in you, woman-to-woman.”

  “With you sitting there?”

  “I’ll make some excuse and hide out for a little bit,” he said, no doubt sounding a little too eager.

  Kathleen looked at him with amusement. “That will certainly make her less suspicious.”

  He had a hunch she was right. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

  “Ask her directly. Even if she doesn’t answer, you should be able to read her expression. And I’ll be the one to make myself scarce while you do it. Women are always having to run to the powder room. She won’t think a thing about it.”

  “I suppose,” he said gloomily. He was no good at this kind of stuff. Subterfuge and subtlety weren’t in his nature, but Richard had already warned him that the direct approach hadn’t gotten him a thing.

  “Trust me, Ben. It’s the only way,” Kathleen insisted. “A woman like your aunt appreciates someone who’s straightforward. Trying to slip something past her won’t work. Or if by chance it does, she’ll be furious with you for having tricked her into saying something she didn’t intend to reveal. That’s the last thing you want.”

  “Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “I know you’re right. I just hate doing what I’m always accusing her of doing, meddling in something that’s none of my business.”

  “Tell her that, too,” Kathleen suggested. “She’ll identify with your position. Heck, maybe it will even give her a nudge to back off with her own meddling.”

  “I think we can eliminate that possibility. I’m not in the miracle business,” Ben responded.

  He pulled up in front of the town house where he’d grown up. In some ways it still felt more like home than the farm, but at the moment he was dreading going inside. He glanced at Kathleen.

  “I guess it’s showtime,” he said unenthusiastically.

  “Don’t sound like you expect to be shot on sight,” she said, regarding him with obvious amusement. “This is Destiny. The mere fact that I’m with you ought to buy you a certain amount of good will.”