If I Trust You (If You Come Back To Me #4) (17 page)

“Yes, I remember,” Deidre managed to get out through numb lips.

“I’m calling with the results of the paternity test, Ms. Kavanaugh.”

Time seemed to stretch.

A knock resounded in the silent kitchen. When she just stared at the door blankly, John started and opened it himself.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked, glancing from John to Deidre and back to John again.

* * *

“Deidre?” Nick repeated when neither John nor she answered his question. Deidre just stood there clutching the phone to her ear. Her face was pale as chalk. What the hell had John been saying to her? He walked toward her, recalling all too well what had happened the last time he’d seen her that pale. Much to his confusion, instead of accepting his support, she backed away from him several steps, her gaze narrowed like she couldn’t quite bring him into focus.

“Ms. Mendez, can you hold on for just a moment?” Deidre spoke in a strained tone into the phone, her large eyes trained on Nick. Then, much to Nick’s growing concern, she stepped past him, opened the oven and removed a pan of cookies.

“You two will have to excuse me,” she said briskly over her shoulder before she left the kitchen. A few seconds later, Nick heard the door to the bedroom close down the hall. He spun around to face John, his mouth open in amazement.

“What the hell did you say to her?” he accused.

“It wasn’t me that got her upset,” John defended. “It was that phone call. Every bit of color washed out of her face when she got it.”

Something flickered in John’s blue eyes. An alarm started going off in Nick’s head.

“You don’t suppose...” John began before he faded off, his alert gaze now trained on the hallway. Nick
did
suppose, and that’s what had him worried.

“Didn’t I tell you back in San Francisco to mind your own business when it came to Deidre?” Nick asked.

John straightened his tie in a nervous gesture. “DuBois Enterprises
is
my business. It used to be your sole focus as well, Nick.”

“Get out of here,”
Nick growled through clenched teeth. He was mad enough to bite through steel. John must have noticed, because he blanched.

“If you have the right to wait and find out if that’s the phone call we’ve been waiting for, then I certainly—”

“Have no right whatsoever,” Nick finished. He stalked over to the coat tree and grabbed John’s coat. John started back when he shoved it in the vicinity of his chest. “You’re an employee of DuBois Enterprises, and even that’s an uncertainty at the moment.”

“Are you threatening to fire me?” John asked furiously. “I have a contract!”

“Contracts can be broken. Besides, I doubt I’m the only one you’ve insulted by coming here. Are you so shortsighted—so dense—to alienate Deidre, when she’s your new employer?”

“You don’t know that she’s my new employer for sure. You don’t know that I insulted her,” John hissed as he put on his coat. “Maybe it’s
you
that she was insulted by.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick demanded, narrowing the distance between them in a split second, but he was talking to the older man’s back. Apparently, John was remembering all too clearly what Nick had graphically told him he’d do to him if he continued with his subtle threats and innuendos in regard to Deidre.

He slammed the door after the fleeing man, stifling a nearly overwhelming aggressive urge to go after him. He didn’t want to leave Deidre.

He couldn’t
believe
John had come to Harbor Town to confront her without Nick’s knowledge or approval.

He left the kitchen, meeting Deidre as she entered the living room. She came to a halt when she saw him.

“I heard the door slam. Did John leave?” she asked.

His nerves seemed to prickle beneath his skin when he noticed the tightness of her mouth when she spoke, the unusual pallor of her face, the way her usually soulful eyes were shuttered.

“He’s gone,” Nick said, stepping toward her. She didn’t back away from him this time, but he sensed her wariness. “What is it? What’s happened? What did John say to you? Deidre?” he prodded when she didn’t immediately reply. He didn’t care for the way she was detailing his features as if she were seeing him for the first time.

“He told me about the letter.”

Her whisper in the silent room struck him like a slashing razor.

“He told me that you believe Lincoln was demented when he made me his heir. He told me that you suspected he was of unsound mind...that the Lincoln you knew would
never
have done such a foolhardy thing as change his will because of a crazy wish that I was his daughter. Is that true?” she asked softly.

“No. I mean...yes, it is partly true.” He made a sound of frustration when he saw her shocked expression. “You haven’t seen the letter, Deidre.”

“Because you wouldn’t let me,” she said, her subdued voice now vibrating with anger. “I asked to see it. I
wanted
to see it.”

“I know,” he said in a pressured tone. “But I thought it might upset you.”

“So you did it all for my benefit. Is that right, Nick?” she asked, taking a step toward him, her rigid stance portraying her emotional distress.

“Not in the beginning, no,” he admitted.

“That letter is apparently crucial potential evidence in a court of law—evidence that Lincoln was of unsound mind when he changed his will. Do you deny it?”

“It is...potentially.”

“
That’s
why you didn’t want me to see it.”

Nick clenched his eyes shut, feeling the situation spinning out of control. Damn John Kellerman’s conniving interference. He opened his eyes and held Deidre’s stare, trying to will her to understand.

“That may have been true in the beginning, when I first came here.”

Something flashed in her eyes that looked like hope. “So you
don’t
believe Lincoln was of unsound mind? You’ve changed your opinion?”

Regret spiked through him. “I meant I don’t plan to contest the will anymore.”

Her crestfallen expression told him she’d noticed he’d sidestepped her question. The silence that followed weighed on him.

“You mean you don’t plan to contest the will, but you still think that Lincoln wasn’t of sound mind when he named me his heir and co-owner of DuBois Enterprises—when he claimed me as his daughter?”

The tremor in her voice made every muscle in his body clench tight. He approached her, grasping her shoulders.

“Listen to me,” he said with quiet intensity. “I’ve told you how much Lincoln wanted a family. Am I surprised that he latched on to you as his daughter—the child of the one woman he’d always loved, Brigit Kavanaugh? A beautiful, smart, vibrant woman?
No.
That makes perfect sense to me.”

“But you still think he was demented for believing I was his daughter and leaving me half his company?”

He clamped his eyes shut and then opened them, having trouble meeting her gaze. “When I first read that letter? Yes. Maybe I still do a little, to be honest. You haven’t seen the letter—it’s barely intelligible, disorganized...touching, but in a completely unrealistic, childlike way.”

“Unrealistic?”
Deidre repeated flatly.

“I thought he was letting wishful thinking rule him instead of rationality. He had no proof you were his daughter but your story. You have no business experience. What’s more, you’d told him point-blank you didn’t want to run DuBois Enterprises,” he said, desperate to make her understand.

“That was very convenient for you, wasn’t it?” she asked. Through her narrowed lids, Nick saw the glassiness of her eyes. “I said I know nothing about business and am literally blown away by the news that I’m Lincoln’s coheir, and you establish that without a doubt, I shouldn’t have been given controlling interest in Lincoln’s company because I said a few times—as a consequence of shock and sheer ignorance—that I didn’t want the job.”

“Your saying you didn’t want the responsibility wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about,” Nick rasped. “Lincoln knew you had no business experience whatsoever. He also didn’t know you were his daughter. But that’s not the point.”

Her eyes flashed in anger. “What is the point then, Nick? You seem so clear on the whole matter. Please, grant me some of your infinite wisdom,” she bit out sarcastically. “Why can’t you just admit that you planned to contest the will all along?”

“Because it’s not true! That’s not how I viewed things, Deidre. I was ruling things out as I went along. I only planned to make decisions once I had crucial information. I needed to know if you truly were Lincoln’s daughter, I needed to be sure of the fact that you hadn’t coerced him in any way—”

“And if you established that both of those things were true, you could always fall back on the allegation that Lincoln wasn’t of sound mind,” Deidre shouted, startling him. She twisted out of his hold and walked toward the fireplace, abruptly turning to face him. His heart seized in his chest. Her expression was shattered. “You never wanted Lincoln to accept me as his daughter. You
never
did,” she cried out.

“That’s not true—”

“It is true,” she said, sounding slightly hysterical. “What must have gone through your mind when I showed up at The Pines, saying I was Lincoln’s natural daughter? All those years you spent proving yourself to Lincoln and everyone in his company, all those years being everything to Lincoln. And you
were
everything...everything
but...
” she bit out emphatically, her eyes a little wild.

He knew she was fighting instinctively, like a wounded animal, but anger pierced through his anxiety that she’d chosen that particular insult to throw in his face.

Another glance at her and his fury was gone. Tears were rushing down her cheeks now, but Nick felt helpless to stop or comfort her. Her hurt and confusion seemed too thick to breach.

“Everything
but
Lincoln’s natural child,” Deidre finished in a hoarse whisper. She tilted her chin up defiantly, but her eyes were wells of pain. “You considered Lincoln to be demented for believing I was his daughter...a wishful old fool.”

“Listen to me,” he spoke quietly, trying desperately to penetrate her distress. “You didn’t read the letter. It was odd...disjointed. He insinuated in it that you and I could have the future that Brigit and he never had.”

Dread filled him when her expression turned incredulous.

“Deidre, wait—”

“That was your
proof
that he was a madman? That you and I might find something together?” she asked, wide-eyed with shock.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” He cursed under his breath in profound frustration.

“You
did
think it!” she accused.

“What if I did, in the beginning?” he boomed, frustration overwhelming him. “You probably would have thought something similar if you read that letter soon after he’d died. It doesn’t matter what I thought then. I’m not going to contest the will. I don’t give a
damn
whose daughter you are or aren’t. Deidre? Are you listening to me?” he asked when she continued to stare at him like he was invisible.

“Lincoln wasn’t a fool,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. Her chin fell to her chest and she took a long inhale. “
I
may have been one for getting involved with you in these...absurd circumstances, but Lincoln wasn’t a fool,” she repeated under her breath. Her shoulders slumped as if in sudden fatigue.

“Deidre?” he prompted, concern swamping him. “I’ve told you from the beginning that what’s between us is separate from the legalities of Lincoln’s will.”

She looked up slowly, the anguished defiance he saw in her eyes cutting him to the quick. “How can you stand there and say that to me with a straight face?”

“Because it’s true. Lincoln has nothing to do with how we feel about each other. DuBois Enterprises doesn’t have anything to do with how we feel about each other.
Deidre?
” he prompted sharply. He had the strangest feeling he was talking to her across an enormous, mile-deep canyon and that she was only hearing the echo of every third word he spoke.

“That call earlier was from GenLabs,” she said quietly. “Lincoln was right. I am his biological daughter. I’ll make sure you get a copy of the formal report.”

Nick watched, frozen to the spot, as she walked past him toward the hallway. A moment later, he heard the latch on her bedroom door shut with a click of finality.

Chapter Eleven

D
eidre arrived in Chicago early the next afternoon. It was a gray, blustery winter day that perfectly matched her mood. Marc and Mari lived in a brownstone on a quiet, residential street in the Lincoln Park neighborhood. The cheery Christmas lights and festive decorations on the attractive, affluent homes only seemed to amplify Deidre’s numb misery.

Mari stood on the sidewalk while Deidre parked in front of the house, a coat draped haphazardly over her shoulders. She took one look at Deidre’s face when she got out of the car and rushed to give her a hug.

“Don’t say a word,” Mari said. She opened the back door of the sedan and withdrew Deidre’s suitcase. “Let’s get you inside and make you something hot to drink. Marc is at work and Riley went to Gymboree with her nanny, so we’ll have an opportunity to talk.”

She hustled Deidre into the elegant brownstone and deposited her bag in the guest bedroom. It wasn’t long before the two women sat together before the fireplace with hot mugs of tea warming their hands. Deidre was hesitant to get started with her confession, but once she began, the words seemed to roll out of her of their own volition. Mari listened, her expression becoming increasingly concerned and sober as time passed.

“...I was so confused after Nick left last night that I couldn’t think. Thank God I was able to sleep a couple hours. When I woke up today, I only wanted to do one thing—escape,” Deidre told Mari in conclusion. “And...well, here I am.”

Mari patted her knee, her expression tight with compassion and worry. “You did the right thing, coming here. You know we’re always ecstatic to have you. I just wish the circumstances could be different,” she said, slumping back in her chair. She glanced at Deidre and shook her head. “I don’t know how
anyone
can be expected to balance so many stressful situations in such a short period of time.”

“I bet I know what you’re thinking,” Deidre murmured. “That I was the one who made things worse for myself by getting involved with Nick.”

“I wasn’t thinking that. I know firsthand that the heart can lead you into some very sticky situations, indeed—look at Marc’s and my romance.” Mari’s gaze sharpened on her. “How do you feel about Nick, Dee? From what you just said, I’m getting the impression you’re intensely attracted to each other.”

Deidre smiled sadly. “You want to know if there’s more to it than lust, you mean?”

“I guess so,” Mari conceded.

Deidre took a sip of her tea, her gaze on the flaming logs in the hearth. “On my part, yes,” she whispered after a pause.

“And you’re angry at yourself for feeling that way?” Mari prompted.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Deidre said, meeting her sister-in-law’s stare. “I made a fool of myself. I got involved with a man who planned all along to take me to court, who never believed in my claim to be Lincoln’s daughter.”

“I thought you said Nick wasn’t planning to contest the will.”

“He did say that, but should I believe him?” she asked Mari desperately. “John Kellerman implied that was Nick’s fallback plan all along—to contest the will based on his belief that Lincoln was of unsound mind at the time it was drawn up. He intended to use that letter as evidence of Lincoln’s incapacity. That’s why he refused to let me see it.”

“It
would
have been very upsetting for you to see.”

Deidre did a double take and studied Mari’s face. “So you think Nick
was
trying to protect me by keeping the letter from me?”

Mari sighed uncertainly and took a sip of her tea. “I think it’s possible. I don’t know. There is a terrific amount of money and power at stake.”

“Exactly,” Deidre muttered. “You begin to see why I doubt myself.”

“I don’t know Nick well enough to say what he’d do, one way or another. You must not feel you know him well enough, either.”

A log popped in the silence that followed. Mari persevered when Deidre didn’t respond.

“You wouldn’t be here in Chicago while he’s still in Harbor Town if you didn’t think Nick was being duplicitous,” Mari prompted.

“He
was
being duplicitous,” Deidre stated with more energy than she felt. “He shouldn’t have slept with me, knowing what he knew. If he didn’t have faith in Lincoln’s judgment and planned to contest the will—even if his plans were tenuous—that was crucial information he should have given me before we got involved.”

“Nick changed his mind about contesting the will once he got to know you better,” Mari said softly. “That’s significant, don’t you think? I can’t help but wonder...”

“What?” Deidre asked when Mari trailed off.

“Well...if the thing that hurt you the most wasn’t that Nick had doubts that you were the rightful heir to DuBois Enterprises. It was that Nick doubted the validity of Lincoln’s blind faith that you were his daughter.”

Deidre stared unseeingly at the flames. Mari’s comment hurt, and she couldn’t help but suspect it pained her so much because there was an element of truth to it. Mari must have sensed her discomfort because she patted her knee again warmly.

“We don’t have to belabor it right now. It’s Christmastime,” she said, nodding toward the gorgeous nine-foot Douglas fir decorated with lights and ornaments situated to the right of the fireplace. “I’ll be doing a special Christmas Eve concert tomorrow afternoon with the symphony. You and Marc can attend together. Ryan couldn’t make it for the concert, but he’ll be here late tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have our own little family Christmas. It’ll be nice.”

Deidre tried to muster some enthusiasm into her smile, but it was hard.

What would Nick be doing for Christmas, now that she’d fled Harbor Town? Surely he’d return to The Pines or to San Francisco. She hated the idea of him spending the holiday alone in the Starling Hotel.

She chastised herself when she realized how worked up she was getting as she considered the possibility.

She was in the process of unpacking later when her cell phone rang. She cautiously checked the number but didn’t recognize it. For a moment, she wavered about answering it. Nick had called three times since their blowup yesterday, and her mother had left yet another message, imploring her to come to her house for Christmas Eve. She dreaded talking to Nick, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Had she been wrong to react as she did? What kind of rotten luck did she possess, to fall in love with a man while billions of dollars were at stake? Could she ever completely trust his motives, now that she knew he’d kept his thoughts about Lincoln’s letter secret from her?

She felt uncertain about talking to her mother, as well. They’d gotten along so well at the McGraw Stables. What’s more, Liam and Natalie would be home for Christmas following their honeymoon. Colleen, Eric and the kids would go to Sycamore Avenue. If things hadn’t derailed so drastically yesterday after John’s visit and the call from GenLabs, Deidre suspected she’d have been accepting her mom’s invitation.

She made a split-second decision and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Kavanaugh? Deidre?” Something about the slight quaver in his voice suggested she spoke to an older man.

“Yes?”

“Hello. My name is Abel Warren. I was Lincoln DuBois’s personal attorney and am the designated attorney for his estate.”

“Oh...hello, Mr. Warren.”

“I’m very sorry about your loss, Ms. Kavanaugh.”

“Thank you. You knew Lincoln for a very long time, I’m sure. I’m sorry for your loss, as well.”

“Lincoln was a good friend. I hope you don’t mind me reaching you at this number. Nick Malone gave it to me.”

“He did?”

“Yes. He asked me to contact you in regard to several things, one crucial item being the availability of your funds.”

“Funds?”

“Yes. Your bank accounts and assets? I previously understood from Nick that we were waiting to hear about paternity testing. However, seeing as how paternity has been confirmed and Nick has given the go-ahead, we are free to carry on.”

“But I haven’t given you and Nick the official report yet,” she said numbly. “GenLabs is sending it special delivery later this afternoon.”

“Nick is satisfied with a verbal affirmation, and I’m satisfied if he is. Ms. Kavanaugh?” the man asked when she was too stunned to reply for several seconds. Deidre was too busy absorbing the news that Nick had told the lawyer that her word was golden. Of course she shouldn’t be surprised, should she? Nick had insinuated he wouldn’t stop her from getting access to Lincoln’s inheritance even before the results from the genetic testing had come.

“Yes?”

“I understand from Nick that discovering you are Lincoln’s coheir has come as quite a shock to you,” he said, his voice gentle. “Becoming an extremely wealthy woman overnight must be bewildering. It might be easy to begin to doubt your own instincts. While I would advise extreme caution, I hope you don’t give up on trusting yourself.”

Something about the unexpected kindness of the attorney affected her deeply. She gave a ragged laugh. “I’ll try,” she said.

“Give it time. It’ll sink in, slowly. I want you to know that I’m your ally, Deidre. Did you know that I worked for your grandfather, George DuBois, before I went to work for Lincoln?”

“No,” she said softly.

“Well I did. So you see, you’re the third generation of DuBoises that I’ll be offering service to. What do you think of that?”

Deidre smiled. She could almost picture a twinkle in the attorney’s eye as he spoke.
Third generation of DuBoises.

“I think it sounds like I’m very lucky,” she said.

He chuckled. “That you are. We’ll make an appointment to meet as soon as possible, but first things first. I’ve made arrangements to make your funds available to you immediately. Here’s what we’re going to do...”

* * *

The next morning Deidre sat with Marc, Mari and Riley at their dining room table eating breakfast. Riley wore a pretty red and white velvet dress for Christmas Eve, but Mari had covered her in so many bibs while she ate that the little girl looked like an adorable patchwork quilt.

“There’s nothing in the papers yet mentioning you specifically,” Marc said, finishing his perusal of the morning edition. “But there’s a small blurb in the business section suggesting that changes are afoot at DuBois Enterprises following Lincoln’s death. Apparently a big announcement is about to be made.”

“Abel Warren told me yesterday that Nick has scheduled a press conference for the day after Christmas,” Deidre said. “He’ll make an official announcement in Harbor Town about Lincoln’s will.” She noticed her brother giving Mari a significant glance. “I know what you’re probably thinking,” Deidre said quietly, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Marc asked, his mouth quirked into a grin.

“That Nick certainly is acting very cooperatively for someone who was lying and planning to take me to court.”

Riley waved a candy-cane-shaped plush toy and shouted in the ensuing silence.

“He’s behaving much more civilly than I would have thought when this whole thing started,” Marc admitted neutrally.

She’d told her brother last night about her romantic liaison with Nick, although with not as much detail as she’d given Mari. Deidre could almost cut a knife through her brother’s concern when she’d admitted to having an affair with Nick Malone. She suspected he was also disappointed in her lapse in judgment, and that’s what really pained her.

“Well, I’ll need to get into Orchestra Hall soon,” Mari said, checking the clock on the wall. “Do you plan on doing anything before the concert, Deidre?”

“I was considering shopping for a dress. I don’t have anything to wear to the concert.”

“You can always borrow one of my dresses, but I think it’s a terrific idea for you to go shopping,” Mari told her with a significant glance. “Breaking in those debit cards Mr. Warren had sent to you this morning will start to get you used to the idea that you have practically unlimited funds at your disposal. You’ve got to get used to being rich at some point,” Mari said when Deidre gave her a dry glance.

“I wasn’t going to use any of the cards,” she said, referring to Abel’s temporary solution to giving her access to her funds. “I have my own money.”

“Lincoln DuBois’s money
is
your money,” Marc said so sharply that she glanced at her brother in surprise. He raised his eyebrows in a quiet challenge. “You’re his daughter, Deidre. He wanted you to enjoy the benefits of his wealth. From what you told me, he would have wanted that more than anything. I agree with Mari. The sooner you start to get used to the fact that you’re wealthy—that you’re Lincoln DuBois’s daughter—the sooner you’ll start to internalize the change in your circumstances. Forgive me for saying so, but it’s an insult to Lincoln’s wishes for you to continue to deny his gift to you.”

Deidre looked away. She suddenly had an overwhelming wish that Nick was there to reassure her with his solemn, gray-eyed gaze.

* * *

Mari had recommended a designer boutique on Oak Street that Deidre couldn’t help but feel was way out of her league. Deidre demurred when the salesclerk showed her a stunning crimson, raw silk dress, but then she’d agreed to try it on, and the gown had sold itself. Its neckline showed off her neck, shoulders and a tasteful amount of chest to good effect and the faux ermine accents around the arm cuff gave it a Yuletide air. She hadn’t entirely believed the salesclerk when she’d told her breathlessly that Deidre looked like a Christmas princess, but Deidre couldn’t help but
feel
like one as she stared at herself in the dressing-room mirror.

She’d never purchased a dress as expensive as this one. Slowly she pulled out one of the new cards Abel Warren had sent and stared at it for a few seconds.

“No, wait,” Deidre said tensely when the salesclerk reached to take the debit card.

Her hand wavered. It seemed wrong somehow, that a debit card should symbolize Lincoln.
You meant more to me than this,
she thought desperately.
I’ll never be able to tell you how much more
.

Almost immediately, she imagined Lincoln replying to her in his matter-of-fact tone.