A Billion Reasons Why (8 page)

She slid the hat from his head. “It’s bad luck to wear a hat inside. Not to mention rude.” She spun herself away and dropped into the leather bucket seat. He took the seat beside her and peered deeply into the pure, glass-green eyes. She turned and gazed out the window. “Will we be leaving soon?”

“Look me in the eyes, Katie.”

She did, and he visibly saw her hard shell dissipate. The pale green of her eyes seemed endless in their depth, as though he could look for a lifetime and never know all of her. He wanted to keep her there, safely beside him, away from anyone who might harm her or, worse yet, dim her light within. He couldn’t help but see Poindexter, a man void of real emotion, as a total threat to Katie’s spirit. He would suck the life out of her, like a N’awliner sucked the head from a crawdad.

She spoke softly. “It hurts to look at you, Luc.”

“Am I that ugly?” He grinned.

“Don’t make fun of me. I made a mistake all those years ago because I loved you. I know men are different from women, but somehow I need to know I meant something to you. That night was special, and when I see you with all those women on the tabloids, it feels like my memories are nothing more than elaborate fantasies, that I never really knew you.”

His jaw tightened. It killed him to know he’d been the one who hurt her. Now he had to hear that he continued to do so. “You know better than that. Look at me, Katie. At me. Not what the tabloids say, not what the business section says, not what anyone says but your own heart.”

Her eyes were wide. “I can’t trust my own heart. It sees what it wants to see.”

“What does it see?” He placed her hand across his heart.

“Forget I said anything. Dexter wouldn’t approve of this conversation, and that’s reason enough not to have it.”

Dexter. Milquetoast
. Dexter wouldn’t defend Katie against a manic cat. Luc knew the type, upstanding on the outside, seething with internal anger at their own helplessness on the inside. “No, we
should
talk about that night. The nights that followed. I need for you to understand the truth. Why I—”

She stopped him. “Is someone here with us?”

“The pilot’s in the cockpit,” he said. Just then, a woman emerged from the back of the plane. “And Linda,” he added, but judging by Katie’s expression, his explanation lacked full disclosure.

Linda Grubner, his full-time air hostess, prowled into the cabin. Her long limbs crawled with a spider’s thoughtfulness and a stalking cat’s forethought. Luc looked at her as though for the first time. Normally he looked right past her, but today he noticed that she resembled a nurse on a Spanish soap opera, and he wondered what Katie thought of his hiring her.

Linda possessed sleepy brown eyes and unnaturally engorged lips, but she had a heart of gold and loved her husband with a vengeance—but Katie couldn’t know that. Linda smoothed the front of her hips in a sensual way and welcomed his guest.

“You must be Katie. Welcome aboard. I’m Linda, your hostess. Luc has told me so much about you. Katie this, Katie that. Girl, I don’t know what you’ve done to possess Luc so heartily, but if you have any secrets, let me know so I can use them on my husband.”

“No, no.” Katie shook her head. “You’ve got it all wrong. Luc and I have been friends for a long time. We simply grew up together.”

“Mmm hmm. You are really beautiful. I think I know why Luc is so smitten. Redhead, huh?”

Luc could practically hear Katie’s thoughts . . .
And you must be the reason for the bed in the back room
. He shook his head. Katie wouldn’t think such an errant, evil thing. Although the press accused him of being an international playboy, Katie knew him better than that. He hoped.

“Well, Katie, may I get you something to drink?” Linda asked. “I have green tea.”

“Green tea?”

“I asked Eileen what I should have on hand for you,” Luc explained, “and she told me you liked green tea.”

Katie giggled. “I hate green tea. Eileen’s life mission is to cleanse everyone from their taste buds.”

“Hey now, don’t mock being healthy on this plane. People wanting to be healthy paid for it.”

“Nothing for me now, Linda. Maybe when we're ready for take off. Thanks. Luc, do you want to show me around now?”

Her calmness alerted Luc—he wondered what she was really thinking. “We can see it later,” he said. “I think Rob is about ready to take off.”

“Rob’s not even on the plane, Luc,” Linda said. “Gary wants to know what time I’ll be home on Sunday. Any idea yet?”

Luc tried to read Katie’s expression, but she revealed nothing. “Maybe about three,” he answered absently. “Rob’s just doing final checks. He’ll be on board soon. To quote our good friend Bette, fasten your seat belt, Katie.”

“I’ll just wander back first. It’s not every day a girl from the Channel gets to walk around on the lush white carpeting of a private plane. You take this all for granted now.”

He watched as she tottered down the hallway, the way her pencil skirt hugged her curves seductively. Katie exuded the perfect forties pinup image. She’d placed his fedora on her head, and the shadow over her eyes made Ingrid Bergman’s
Casablanca
stint pale in comparison. Their love affair with the past was easily attainable in the here and now, and he reminded himself he’d never backed down from a challenge before. There would never be another woman for him.

He followed her, pointing out the amenities. “The burled wood was an upgrade. Nice, isn’t it?” He spoke over her shoulder.

She turned and he looked into those eyes. Those amazing green eyes.

“It’s lovely, Luc. I’m so proud of you. I always knew you’d be successful, but I never imagined you’d do this.”

“It was a good part luck,” he said. “Luck of the Irish Channel.”

“It was more than luck. Luck of the Irish never did my Paddy any good.” She ran her hand along the wood, and he noted the long, slender fingers. “Paddy’s grocery business was a one-man shop. And now look at you. Your private plane is practically bigger than his shop on Magazine Street. He would have been proud of you too.”

“You think so, Katie?”

“My father never wished anything but success for anyone. I wish he could have seen what selling vegetables might become. He never would have imagined this.”

“Your father had an idea that was ripe before its time. That’s all.”

“My dad couldn’t have conceived of a world where people paid more to eat healthy. It was just something he did because of his love for the land. He’d heard too much about the Potato Famine, and he never wanted to have his family in that situation. Food was the safest option for him, but getting rich was never his goal.”

Luc fiddled with the box in his pocket. He could tell her the truth right now. He could hand her what she wanted and let her get off the plane before she ever found out the ring wasn’t in New Orleans or in her mother’s possession. But that would place her squarely in the arms of Dexter Hastings, a man who wasn’t fit to wipe her lace-up forties pumps. The trip would buy him time, and he’d need all of it to make up for what he’d squandered.

He followed her down the narrow hallway of the plane. Five leather seats made up the front half of the plane; the bathroom was in the center, between the two hallways; and in the back was a bedroom. The bed stretched sideways, the width of the entire plane. He’d made the mistake of telling Linda that Katie was his first love, and the cream-colored duvet and brown pillows were sprinkled with red rose petals. A tray at the center of the mattress held two champagne flutes, a bowl of fresh strawberries, and a bottle of apple cider (since he’d also mentioned Katie didn’t drink—which might have suggested she wasn’t likely to sleep with him on his plane, but apparently Linda’s deduction skills didn’t go that far). Looking at Katie’s wide eyes, he didn’t have to be Sam Spade to figure she thought this was part and parcel of a trip on his private plane.

Katie opened the cabinet at the headboard. Upon finding it empty, she slid it shut.

“Looking for something?” he asked, careful to avoid the obvious questions her eyes translated.

“I was just wondering if there was more. You know, to warm me up.”

“Did you want there to be?” he said in his most roguish voice, but she rolled her eyes and left the bedroom. He could hardly blame her.
Beyond cheesy
. His fedora style felt less Humphrey Bogart and more sniveling Peter Lorre.

He followed Katie back to the main cabin, where she sank into the white leather seat, kicked off her heels, and rubbed her bare feet on the plush carpet beneath her. “This is heavenly. I bet you have someone else to pass the vacuum in here.”

“I pay someone to clean it, yes. Linda does the light pickup.”

“And the seduction protocol. Nice touch . . . the rose petals.”

Linda opened her mouth to protest, but Luc stopped her. “Linda, could you leave us, please?”

Linda escaped the room with the force of the Savoy Express.

Luc searched for the right words as though his life depended upon his ability to find them. It seemed he stumbled over his words with Katie whenever they mattered, and the thought of telling her the truth ebbed further from his grasp.

“This is nice,” she said as she rubbed her hands along the armrests. “It reminds me of your first clunker BMW. Remember that? You loved that car. You used to wax it all the time, even though it never made a bit of difference. The paint was gone, but I admired your determination.”

He had loved that car. He loved the freedom it brought him, the escape from family expectations and the chance to think clearly. Even this plane hadn’t brought him the peace of that old clunker.

“We got all the supplies for the school before I left,” she said. “Thanks for taking care of that. We’re interviewing for the third aide. That’s more trouble. We have to have all their credentials in place, ’cause they need to work for the county. It might be easier to hire him or her as a volunteer and let the person be an employee of Forages Foods.”

“A deal’s a deal,” he said.

“We’re even, you and me. By the end of this trip, we’ll be paid up in full. I will have faced my very public past, so there’s no reason to dwell on us any longer. We will be left in the dark annals of history, where we as a couple belong.”

“Why this guy, Katie?”

“Dexter’s a good man. Solid, committed, and he wants the same things I do. Marriage and a family. He grew up without a father, so he’s anxious to overcome that part of his past and be the best father he can.”

Luc’s stomach recoiled at the thought of someone else fathering Katie’s children. His voice blustered harshly. “Solid? Committed? Are you looking for a dog or a husband?”

“I can’t have babies with a dog.”

Another physical blow to his gut. “How did you meet him?”

“I met him at church. In the singles group.”

“Not where . . . how? Did he introduce himself? Did he ask the pastor about you? How did you come to know him?”

She shrugged. “Proximity, I guess. He was there. I was there. We organized so many singles events together, I think the group knew we were a couple before we did.”

Luc reached for her hand and compressed her fingers in his grasp. “Katie, about this trip—”

Linda stepped out from the back room. “Sorry to disturb you, but we’re ready to take off. I need to pull the door shut.”

Katie snatched her hand away and clicked her seat belt.

She leaned into her slouchy bag and pulled out a book, which she cracked open, then snapped shut. “I want to watch us take off first. I’ll be able to tell my grandchildren about being on the mighty Luc DeForges’ private plane.”

“Can I get you something to drink now?” Linda asked her.

“Just a water, if you have it.”

“Perrier? SmartWater or flavored mineral?”

“Just water, please.”

Linda trotted off to the kitchen, and Katie dropped the book into her lap. She opened her mouth but stopped herself. She tried again with the same result.

“I’m still the same man, Katie. The one you see. Not the image. Don’t let other people tell you the truth; decide it for yourself.”

“The man I knew wouldn’t ask me to do this. He wouldn’t ask me to show up at a family wedding in front of all the people I lived out my worst nightmare in front of. He wouldn’t humiliate me that way.”

“Katie, I’m taking you home to make things right. I’d never do anything to cause you harm. Even then I had my reasons . . .”

A scowl crossed her face, but anger gave way to pain as a tear slid down her cheek onto her cherry red Joan Crawford lips. He nearly crushed the velvet box in his pocket.

“Katie, they don’t think badly of you for that night. They know I’m to blame.”

“I’m not that girl anymore. I know differently now. I’m strong enough to stand up in front of all of them, to sing my heart out and dance to as much Glenn Miller as I can stomach. They didn’t define me. They only made me a stronger version of myself.”

He squeezed her hand again. “Stop battling me, Katie. Trust me. Just a little.”

Linda emerged from the kitchen, a SmartWater in one hand and a glass in the other. “Can I get you anything to eat before we take off? Crackers? Brie? Sliced apples? I’ll be serving lunch at eleven thirty unless you request it earlier.”

Katie lifted her water, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig. “No glass. I’m Irish. We like it out of the bottle.”

Luc laughed, and Linda stood stick-straight. “That’s all, Linda.”

Katie stared at him. Her mesmerizing green eyes captivated him beyond reason, as though they had a direct line to scramble his brain. Those eyes spoke volumes, more than most women translated in fifteen minutes of speech. She blinked slowly, her lips slightly parted, and he wondered if he was ready for whatever she had to say.

The best defense is a good offense
.

“You’re wrong about my family,” he said. “My mother cared deeply for you.”

“She loved me as long as I knew my place, and I do. I hope you’ve told her I’m engaged elsewhere, so your family knows my sights are no longer set on the wonderful and mighty Luc DeForges. Your mother can make some other worthy girl queen of the castle. It’s a position I no longer covet.”