After Kincaid had fired Lucas for refusing to break it off with Nadia, the bastard had made sure Lucas couldn’t get a job with anyone else in the Kincaid’s exalted Miami circle. Lucas had finally found a new job with a different landscaping company. The pay hadn’t been nearly as good as working for the Kincaids, but there had been room for advancement.
He hadn’t known how he was going to support a wife let alone children and help his family, but he’d figured they’d find a way. His mother always had.
“I’m sorry we lost our son.” The words sounded as empty as he felt.
She shrugged as if it didn’t matter but the tears she blinked away told him it mattered a lot. Then she knocked back half her glass of champagne in one gulp. “I could have had plastic surgery to minimize the scar, but what’s the point? They can’t put back what they took.”
Not even a moron could miss the point that the scar wasn’t the issue. He wanted to know the details, but unless things had changed over the years, when Nadia wore that closed expression she wasn’t going to talk. He’d have to tease the information out of her slowly or risk closing the door their intimacy had opened. And that open door was critical to his plan.
He decided to try a different path. “Is that why you never married again? Because you couldn’t have children?”
“What was the point? No family. No need for a ring. But, no. I didn’t marry because I found out after my—our wreck—that my mother was mentally unstable. Her accident was intentional. She drove Daddy’s prized sports car straight into a tree and killed herself rather than stay at home and take care of the ones who needed her.”
Shock chilled him. “What do you mean she was mentally unstable?”
“My mother was manic depressive or bipolar, if you want to use the most up-to-date term. It’s believed to be hereditary, you know? And while the legion of shrinks my father sicced on me over the years swears I don’t carry her defective gene, they can’t be one hundred percent sure. I’ll never marry, never adopt children, and never let anyone depend on me. It’s a risk I don’t want to take.”
The news settled over him, making sense of the crazy stories he’d read about Nadia in the tabloids over the years. She lived as though she had nothing to lose. Because she believed she didn’t?
She shifted on the bed, flashing him a glimpse of inner thigh and stirring the scent of their lovemaking in the air. Arousal kicked him hard in the gut. He wanted her again, wanted to saturate himself in her until there were no crevices of need left to fill. And then he’d let her go.
But duty called. He had to leave her in thirty-six hours. Unless…“Come to Singapore with me.”
Her chin jerked up. “What?”
“I have to be in Singapore first thing Monday morning to close a deal. The CEO handling the deal I’m closing is a sexist jerk. He refuses to talk to Sandi.”
Nadia bit her lip and looked into her glass. “I can’t.”
“You can work on the fund-raiser from your laptop.”
Her gaze met his. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Grimacing, she downed the remainder of her champagne then took a deep breath. “I can’t leave Dallas because of my father’s stupid will. I have to spend 365 consecutive nights in Daddy’s penthouse.”
The restriction explained the anger he’d heard in her voice each time she’d spoken about her father. Everett Kincaid had always held too tightly to his baby girl. Eleven years ago Lucas had known that was a mistake and had tried to warn Kincaid he’d lose Nadia if he didn’t loosen his grip. That’s when Kincaid had fired him.
“And if you don’t?”
“I told you before. We lose our inheritance. Daddy gave each of us an assigned task. If any one of us fails, then everything—and I do mean everything he owned—will be sold to his enemy for a dollar. Mitch and Rand are well on their way to fulfilling their part. I’m the wild card, the one everyone expects to fall short. That’s why I can’t mess this up. They’re counting on me.”
That KCL could be sold out from under him jarred him. He hadn’t seen that coming. “His enemy?”
“What kind of father screws his own children like that?” she asked, ignoring his question.
A father like mine. But he didn’t say it. He’d never told Nadia about the good-for-nothing bastard who’d knocked up Lila Stone, married her without mentioning he already had a wife and kids then dumped his wife and son without a backward glance. He’d told Nadia his father was gone, and when she’d assumed he meant dead, Lucas hadn’t corrected her.
She stabbed the fork into the cake and ate another bite. “I mean it’s ridiculous. He took away my job—the one thing I’m good at—and he forced me to give up my friends and my home. He gave me a curfew and an allowance and took away my maid, cook and driver. He’s treating me like a misbehaving thirteen-year-old by grounding me and taking away privileges.”
“It’s a bit harsh.” But not surprising. Dogmatic decrees had been Everett Kincaid’s style. The man had been an extreme control freak. It’s a wonder any of his children had remained on speaking terms with him. “Who is his enemy?”
She stared at him, blinked and then she smiled and reached for him. Her palm cupped his jaw line. “Let’s not talk about my idiot father. Let’s make love again. I adore the way you make me feel, Lucas. You help me forget all this crazy will business.”
Her hand slid down his neck and over his collarbone, inciting a riot of sensation and short-circuiting his brain. The last thing he wanted to do was lift her wandering fingers from his chest, but he did because there was no way he could focus on his agenda with her touching him. And he needed to know who stood between him and ownership of KCL.
He kissed her fingers, then couldn’t resist swirling his tongue around the tips. Her flavor filled his mouth and left him craving more, but he ignored the hunger clawing his insides and settling heavily in his groin. Why was it that no other woman had affected him this way? “If you can’t go with me, then give me until Sunday night.”
“But the fund-raiser—”
“What did you decide to do about it?” he asked in an attempt to rein in his need.
“We’ll have an auction. I need to nail down the prizes this week and get the promotional materials released.”
“If you’ll spend Saturday and Sunday with me, I’ll give you a list of firms and individuals in the Dallas area who will donate.”
She tilted her head, giving him a look that started out curious then turned saucier by the second. “You’re sure you can deliver the goods?”
A fresh wave of arousal slammed into his gut. She wasn’t just talking about prizes. “Absolutely. I can give you whatever you need.”
One corner of her delectable mouth curved upward and sexual mischief sparkled in her green eyes. “I’ll hold you to that. I’ll bet I can get Rand and Mitch to donate a cruise…assuming the business is still ours when the time comes for the winner to take it.”
Which dampened his desire and brought him neatly back to the subject burning a hole in his brain. “I’m sure your father had numerous enemies, but who would he leave his estate to?”
She sighed and pulled away, a sound of disgust rumbling from her throat. “Mardi Gras Cruising.”
Shock winded him. He was glad she had her back to him long enough for him to gather his composure. Dozens of thoughts avalanched through his mind. Primarily, the terms of Kincaid’s will added to the purchase of the apartment could only mean one thing. Everett Kincaid must have been tracking him all these years. But how? And why?
Lucas was a firm believer in knowing his enemies as well as possible. Had Kincaid practiced the same philosophy? Or was it something more?
He had to find out. “Why Mardi Gras?”
She turned, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know. Dad absolutely detested the CEO. They’ve had a running battle for years because Mardi Gras kept encroaching on our turf by under-bidding us on an assortment of contracts. It really seemed to get under Dad’s skin. I can’t believe he would rather see the Mardi Gras logo on our ships than have Rand, Mitch and I continue the KCL tradition of running an award-winning organization.”
Lucas was well aware Mardi Gras’s CEO was an aggressive, cutthroat ass who stayed just this side of legal in his pursuits. That’s why he’d hired him. The man was as determined and focused on besting the competition as Lucas. And he was power-hungry. That meant he wasn’t about to let slip that many of his decisions came as direct orders from his behind-the-scenes boss.
And then another thought hit Lucas with chilling clarity.
KCL could be his.
All he had to do was get Nadia to leave Dallas.
He weighed the knowledge. But would winning by default give him half the satisfaction as taking KCL by stealth and skill?
And would it be revenge if what he wanted was handed to him by the very man who’d taught him the meaning of defeat?
“Nadia, wake up,” a deep voice repeated more urgently this time. Lucas’s voice.
Nadia smiled and snuggled deeper into the warmth cocooning her. She fully intended to ignore whoever was trying to rouse her from a dream she hadn’t had in almost five years. A dream of Lucas holding her, making love to her. She’d missed that dream.
“Go ’way.”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“Don’t care,” she mumbled. She knew from experience that when she opened her eyes that would not be Lucas in her bedroom. No matter how much it sounded like him now.
The pillow beneath her shifted, dumping her as it rose. Pillows rising? Her fogged brain slowly cleared. She reached out blindly in the darkness. Her fingers encountered supple skin covering a taut backside instead of Egyptian cotton and down.
Oh, man. Who had she slept with this time? Another poor sap who reminded her of her dead husband?
But she hadn’t done a Lucas look-alike in…a long time.
And Lucas wasn’t dead.
Startled, she popped upright. The lamp clicked on. She winced and shielded her eyes, but not before catching a glimpse of her nak*d husband beside the bed stepping into his pants. Her body tingled at the memory of how they’d passed the preceding hours.
“Get up. You have to get back to your place.”
Her place. Midnight . Panic erased the last remnants of grogginess from her brain. She leaped from the bed and scanned the floor. “My clothes. I don’t know where I left—”
“You don’t have time for your clothes. There are security cameras in the hall. Put this on.” He held out his robe.
She checked his clock as she shoved her arms into the black silk sleeves then cinched the belt. Two minutes to midnight. She’d nearly blown it. Her father was right. She truly did need a keeper, and she’d have to be more careful in the future. “I can’t believe I almost messed up. Thank you for waking me.”
He wore an odd expression on his face, one she didn’t have time to decipher.