Suspicions: A Twist of Fate\Tears of Pride (27 page)

“This won’t work, you know,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow.”

“Someone has to.” Reluctantly she wrenched herself free of his arms and straightened her coat. “I came here to find your father because you refused to see me.”

“My mistake,” he conceded wryly.

She ignored his insinuation. “That’s the only reason I’m here. I didn’t intend to overhear your argument with your son, nor did I expect to get this close to you. I hope you understand.”

The smile that slid across his face was seductively charming. “I understand perfectly,” he responded gently, and Sheila felt herself becoming mesmerized all over again. He was powerful and yet kind, bold without being brash, strong but not unyielding—the kind of man Sheila had thought didn’t exist. Her attraction to him was compelling, but her feelings were precarious.

“I have to go.”

“Stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Because of your daughter?”

“She’s one reason,” Sheila lied. “There are others.”

His smile broadened, and she saw the flash of his white teeth. “Come on, let’s go inside. You’re getting soaked.”

“At least I’m wearing a coat,” she taunted, noticing the way his wet shirt was molding to the muscular contours of his shoulders and chest.

“I didn’t expect you to run out into the rain.”

“It was a stupid thing to do,” she admitted. “It’s just that I didn’t want to intrude. I didn’t think you—”

“Have problems of my own?”

Embarrassment crept up her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I should have been a little more discreet when Sean came home. I lost control when I saw him drunk again.” Noah wiped the rain from his forehead as if he were erasing an unpleasant thought. He touched her lightly on the elbow and guided her back into the house.

It was difficult for Noah to ignore any part of her; he couldn’t help but notice the quiet dignity with which she carried herself, the curve of her calf as she walked, or the shimmer of her chestnut hair, which had darkened into unruly curls in the rain.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose you would consider telling me how to reach your father?”

“I don’t think that would be wise.”

Sheila smiled sadly to herself. “Then I’ll be going. Thank you for your time.”

“You’re not really planning to drive back to the valley tonight?” he asked, studying the tired lines of her face. How far could he trust her? She seemed so open with him, and yet he felt as if she were hiding something, a secret she was afraid to share.

“No. I’ll drive back in the morning.”

He stood with his back to the fire, warming his palms on the rough stones. “But your daughter. I thought she was expecting you.”

“Not tonight. She’s probably having the time of her life. That grandmother of hers spoils her rotten.”

Noah rubbed his chin and his dark brows raised. “I didn’t realize your mother was still alive.”

A pensive expression clouded Sheila’s even features. “She’s not. Emily is staying with my ex-husband’s mother…. We’re still close.”

“What about your ex-husband? Are you still close to him, too?” Noah asked, brittlely. Why the devil did he even care? He watched a play of silent emotions darken Sheila’s eyes, and without knowing why, Noah Wilder immediately despised the man who had caused Sheila so much pain. He could feel the muscles in his jaw begin to tighten.

“Jeff and I are civil,” Sheila replied, hoping to close the unwelcome subject.

“Then you still see him?” Noah persisted.

“It can’t be avoided…because of Emily.”

“Is he good with your daughter?”

“Yes…I suppose so. Does it matter?” Sheila asked, experiencing a hot flash of indignation. She didn’t like discussing her feelings about Jeff with anyone, especially not a man she was beginning to admire.

“Doesn’t it…matter, I mean?”

“To me, yes. But why do you care?”

His voice lowered at the bitterness in her words. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”

Sheila stiffened, but pushed back the hot retort forming in her throat. It was none of Noah’s business. Her divorce from Jeff had been a painful experience, one she would rather not think about or discuss.

“I think I had better leave,” she stated evenly. She reached into the front pocket of her purse and fished for her keys. The conversation was getting far too personal.

“You mean you want to run away, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Isn’t that what you were doing when I found you out on the veranda, leaning over the rail? Weren’t you attempting to avoid a confrontation with me?”

“You were arguing with your son! I was only trying to give you some privacy.”

His eyes darkened. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting.”

“Sure you do.” He moved from the fireplace to stand only inches from her. “Anytime the conversation turns a little too personal, you try to avoid me,” he accused. A dangerous glint of blue fire flashed in his eyes.

Sheila stood her ground. “I came here to talk about business. There was nothing personal about it.”

“Save that for someone gullible enough to believe it.”

She glared at him defiantly but held on to her poise. “Quit beating around the bush and just say what it is that’s bothering you.”

“You came over here with the intention of contacting Ben. You were sidestepping me. Don’t take me for such a fool. I know that you were deliberately trying to avoid me.”

“Only because you were being completely unreasonable!” she snapped. He was impossible! When she looked into his intense cobalt eyes, she felt as if she wanted to float dreamily in his gaze forever. The smell of burning logs mingled with the earthy scent of Noah’s wet body. Raindrops still ran down the length of his tanned neck.

“I’m not an unreasonable man,” he stated calmly. His hand reached up to touch her chin, and Sheila felt a shiver skitter down her spine. His eyes studied her face, noting in detail the regal curve of her jaw, the blush on her creamy skin and the seductive pout on her full lips. “Please stay,” he implored.

“Why?” She longed for an excuse,
any
excuse to spend some more precious time with him.

“We could start by talking about the winery and your plans for it.”

“Would you change your position on the insurance settlement?”

The corners of his mouth quirked. “I think you could persuade me to do anything.” His finger trailed down her chin and throat to rest against the collar of her coat. Her heart fluttered.

She stepped away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. Eyeing him suspiciously, she asked, “What would it take?”

“For what?”

“For you to listen to my side of the story.”

He shrugged. “Not much.”

“
How
much?”

Noah’s smile spread slowly over his face and his eyes gleamed devilishly. “Why don’t we start with dinner? I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than listen to you over a glass of Cascade Valley’s finest.”

He was mocking her again, but there was enough of a dare in his words to tempt Sheila. “All right, Noah. Why not?” she countered impulsively. “But let’s set out the ground rules first. I insist that we keep the conversation on business.”

“Just come with me,” he suggested wickedly. “The conversation…and the night will take care of themselves.”

Chapter 4

The restaurant Noah selected was located on one of the steep hills near the heart of the city. It was unique, in that the original Victorian structure had been built by one of Seattle’s founding fathers. The old apartment building had been remodeled to accommodate patrons of
L’Epicure,
but the structure retained its authentic nineteenth-century charm. White clapboard siding, French gray shutters and an elegant touch of gingerbread adorned the entrance. Flickering sconces invited Sheila inside.

A formally dressed waiter led them up a narrow flight of stairs to a private room in the second story of the gracious old apartment house. An antique table sat in an alcove of leaded glass, giving the patrons a commanding panorama of the city lights. Raindrops lingered and ran on the windowpanes, softly blurring the view and creating an intimate atmosphere in the private room.

“Very nice,” Sheila murmured to herself as she ran her fingers along the windowsill and looked into the night.

Noah helped her into her chair before seating himself on the other side of the small table. Though he attempted to appear calm, Sheila could sense that he was still on edge. The quiet, comfortable silence they had shared in the car had been broken in the shadowy confines of the intimate restaurant.

Before the waiter left, Noah ordered the specialty of the house along with a bottle of Chardonnay by Cascade Valley. Sheila lifted her brows at Noah’s request, but the waiter acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Why would a European restaurant carry a local wine?” she inquired after the waiter had disappeared from the room.

Noah’s smile twisted wryly. “Because my father insists upon it.”

The waiter returned with the wine and solemnly poured the wine first into Noah’s glass, and upon approval, into Sheila’s. After he had left once again, Sheila persisted with her questions.

“
L’Epicure
keeps wine for your father?”

“That’s one way of putting it.
L’Epicure
is a subsidiary of Wilder Investments,” he explained tonelessly.

Sheila’s lips tightened. “I see. Just like Cascade Valley.”

Noah nodded. “Although the restaurant carries a full cellar of European wines, Ben insists that Cascade Valley be fully represented.”

“And your father is used to getting what he wants?”

Noah’s blue eyes turned stone cold. “You could say that.” Any further comment he would have made was repressed by the appearance of the waiter bearing a tray overloaded with steaming dishes of poached halibut in mushroom sauce, wild rice and steamed vegetables. Sheila waited until the food was served and the waiter had closed the door behind him before continuing the conversation.

“I take it you don’t like working for your father?” she guessed as she started the meal.

Noah’s dark eyebrows blunted, and the fork he had been holding was placed back on the table. He clasped his hands together and stared at her over his whitened knuckles. “I think we should get something straight: I do
not
work for Ben Wilder!”

“But I thought—”

“I said I do not work for Ben! Nor do I collect a salary from Wilder Investments!” His clipped words were succinct and effectively closed the subject. The angry edge of his words and the tensing of his jawline left little doubt that he preferred not to speak of his father or his business.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” Sheila sighed, setting her uneaten food aside. Somehow she had to keep her temper in check. What sort of game was he playing with her? “Why am I sitting here wasting my time, when you just intimated that you have nothing to do with Wilder Investments?”

“Because you wanted to get to know me better.”

Sheila found it difficult to deny the truth, and yet she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He had tricked her into coming with him, when all along he couldn’t help her in her quest to save the winery and her father’s reputation. Was it her fault for being so mystified by him? Ignoring his wish to avoid discussing Wilder Investments, Sheila continued to push her point home. “I’m listening,” she said quietly. “I want to know why you led me on—or have you forgotten our ground rules?”

“I didn’t lead you on.”

“But you just said that you don’t work for Wilder Investments.”

“I said that I don’t work for
my father,
and I’m not on the company payroll.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Sheila pointed out, her exasperation beginning to show. “What is it exactly that you do?”

Noah shrugged, as if resigned to a fate he abhorred. “I do owe you an explanation,” he admitted thoughtfully. “I used to work for Ben. From the time I graduated from college I was groomed for the position Ben’s only heir would rightfully assume: the presidency of Wilder Investments, whenever Ben decided to retire. I was never very comfortable with the situation as it was, but—” he hesitated, as if wondering how much of his private life he should divulge “—for personal reasons I needed the security my position at Wilder Investments provided.”

“Because of your wife and son?” Sheila immediately regretted her thoughtless question.

Noah’s eyes darkened. “I’ve never had a wife!” He bit out the statement savagely, as if the thought alone were repulsive to him.

Sheila flushed with color. “I’m sorry,” she apologized hastily. “I didn’t know…. You have a child….”

Noah’s glare narrowed suspiciously. “You didn’t know about Marilyn? If that’s the truth, you must have been the only person in Seattle who didn’t know the circumstances surrounding Sean’s birth. The press couldn’t leave it alone. All of Ben’s money couldn’t even shut them up!”

“I’ve never lived in Seattle,” she explained hurriedly, still embarrassed. Surely he would believe her. “And—and I didn’t pay any attention to what my father’s business partner was doing, much less his son…. I was only a teenager and I didn’t know anything about you.”

Noah’s anger subsided slightly as he noticed the stricken look on Sheila’s near-perfect face. “Of course not—it happened years ago.”

Sheila’s hands were trembling as she reached for her wineglass and let the cool liquid slide down herparched throat. She avoided Noah’s probing gaze and pushed the remains of her dinner around on her plate. Although the food was delicious, her hunger had disappeared.

Noah speared a forkful of fish and ate in the thick silence that hung over the table. It was a long moment before he began to speak again. When he did, his voice was calm and toneless, almost dead from the lack of emotion in his words. “There were many reasons why I quit working for my father…too many to hope to explain. I didn’t like the idea of being treated as ‘Ben Wilder’s son’ by the rest of the staff, and I had never gotten on well with my dad in the first place. Working with him only served to deepen the rift between us.” His teeth clenched, and he tossed his napkin onto the table as he remembered the day that he had broken free of the cloying hands of Wilder Investments.

“I stayed on as long as I could, but when one of my father’s investments went sour, he ordered me to investigate the reasons. A manufacturing firm in Spokane wasn’t making it. Although it wasn’t the manager’s fault, Ben had the man fired.” Noah took a drink of wine, as if to cast off the anger he felt each time he remembered the painful scene in his father’s office, the office Noah now reluctantly filled. The image of a man near fifty, his shoulders bowed by the wrath and punishment of Ben Wilder, still haunted Noah. How many times had he pictured the tortured face of Sam Steele as the man realized Ben was really going to fire him for a mistake he hadn’t made? Sam had looked to Noah for support, but even Noah’s pleading was useless. Ben Wilder needed a scapegoat and Sam Steele presented the unlikely sacrificial lamb, an example to the rest of the employees of Wilder Investments. It didn’t matter that Sam wouldn’t be able to find another job at a comparable salary, nor that he had two daughters in college. What mattered to Ben Wilder was his company, his wealth, his
power.
Though it had all happened years ago, Noah felt an uncomfortable wrench in his gut each time he remembered Sam’s weathered face after leaving Ben’s office. “It doesn’t matter, boy,” Sam had said fondly to Noah. “You did what you could. I’ll make out.”

Sheila was staring at Noah expectantly, and he quickly brought his thoughts back to the present. “That incident,” he stated hurriedly, “was the final straw. By the end of the afternoon I had quit my job, yanked my kid out of school and moved to Oregon. I told myself I would never come back.”

Sheila sat in the encumbering silence for a minute, watching the lines of grief still evident on Noah’s masculine face while he reflected upon a part of his life she knew nothing about. She longed to hear more, to understand more fully the enigmatic man sitting across the table from her. Yet she was afraid, unsure of growing any closer to him. Already she was inexplicably drawn to him, and intuitively she realized that what he was about to tell her would only endear him to her further. Those feelings of endearment would surely only cause her suffering. She couldn’t trust him. Not yet.

“You don’t have to talk about any of this,” she finally managed to say. “It’s obviously painful for you.”

“Only because I was weak.”

“I…don’t understand,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the table for support as she lifted her eyes to meet the question in his. “And,” she allowed ruefully, “I’m not sure that I want to understand you.”

“You’re the woman who insisted that I owed her an explanation,” he reminded her.

“Not about
all
of your life.”

“But I thought you wanted to get to know me.”

“No…I just want to know how you’re connected with Wilder Investments,” she lied. She ignored the voice in her mind that was whispering,
Dear God, Noah, I don’t understand it, but I want to know everything about you…touch your body and soul.
Instead she lowered her eyes. “You are in charge of the company, aren’t you?”

“Temporarily, yes.”

“And you do make all of the decisions for Wilder Investments.”

“Unless the board disapproves. So far they haven’t.” The mindless members of the board wouldn’t dare argue with Ben’s son, Noah thought to himself.

Sheila held her breath as the truth hit her in a cold blast of logic. “Then you were lying to me when you said that you couldn’t make a decision about the winery until your father got back into the country.”

Noah’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I prefer to think of it as stalling for time.”

“We haven’t got time!”

His smile broadened and his eyes lightened over the edge of his wineglass. “Lady, that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

His gaze was warm. Though the table separated them, Sheila could feel the heat of his eyes caressing her, undressing her, bringing her body closer to his. Under the visual embrace she felt her skin begin to tremble, as if anticipating his touch.
Don’t fall for him,
she warned herself.
Don’t think for a minute that he cares for you. You’re just a handy convenience that stumbled onto him tonight. Remember Jeff. Remember the promises. Remember the lies. Remember the pain. Don’t let it happen again. Don’t fall victim to the same mistake. Don’t!

Carefully she pieced together the poise that he could shatter so easily. “Perhaps we should go.”

“Don’t you even want to know why I’m back at Wilder Investments?” he invited.

“Do you want to tell me?”

“You deserve that much at the very least.”

“And at the very most?”

“You deserve more—much more.”

She waited, her nervous fingers twirling the stem of her glass. She cocked her head expectantly to one side, unconsciously displaying the curve of her throat. Why did he work for his father in a position he found so disagreeable? “I had assumed that you took command because of your father’s heart attack.”

“That’s part of it,” he conceded reluctantly. “But a very small part.” She was quiet, and her silence prodded him on. “Actually, when Ben had the first attack and asked me to take over for a couple of weeks, I refused. I didn’t need the headache, and I figured he would have half a dozen ‘yes-men’ who could more than adequately fill his shoes while he was recuperating. So I refused.”

Sheila’s eyebrows drew together as she tried to understand. “What changed your mind?” she asked quietly.

“The second attack. The one that put Ben in the intensive care unit for a week.” Noah’s fingers drummed restlessly on the table as he thought for a moment. “My father hadn’t trusted anyone to run the company other than himself. When I refused to help him, he ignored the advice of his doctor and picked up where he left off.”

“That’s crazy,” she thought aloud.

Noah shook his head. “That’s getting his way. The second attack almost took his life, and when my mother pleaded with me to help him out, I agreed, but only until a replacement could be found.”

“And you father didn’t bother to look for one,” Sheila surmised.

“Why would he? He got what he wanted.”

“But surely
you
could find someone—”

“I’ve looked. Anyone I’ve suggested has been turned down by the powers that be.”

“Ben.”

“Exactly.”

Sheila was confused. When she thought of her family and all of the love they had shared, she found it hard to imagine the cold detachment between Ben Wilder and his only son. “Surely there must be some way of solving your problem. Can’t you talk to your father?”

“It doesn’t do any good. Besides, that’s only part of the story. I owed my father a favor—a big favor.”

The uneasy feeling that had been threatening to overtake Sheila all evening caused her to shudder involuntarily. “And you’re repaying him now, aren’t you?”

“In my opinion, yes. You see,” he continued in a flat, emotionless voice, “when my son, Sean, was born, there were problems I wasn’t able to handle alone. I was too young. I was forced to ask and rely upon my father for help. He complied, and the bastard has never let me forget it.”

“But what about Sean’s mother?” Sheila questioned. “Certainly she could have helped if there were a problem with the child. Sean was her responsibility as well as yours.”