All He Needs (All or Nothing) (31 page)

Why was she surprised? This was Dominic Knight after all.
“If you’re looking for a way out, just say so,” she said, giving herself points for not screaming at him or dissolving into tears.

“Jesus, no. I’m not looking for a way out. I thought we’d spend these six months in London together. Then this goddamn thing happened,” he said grimly. “Look, don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Coming to his feet, he quickly strode from the room.

Sad, mad, confused, she wasn’t sure she could have moved if the flat was on fire. Her brain was racing, wanting to find a way out, wanting more than anything to find hope in the tumult of her thoughts.

Dominic came back a few moments later, dressed in his jeans. He carried a primrose silk robe and, lifting her to her feet, he quickly slipped it on her, his gaze averted in the event he forgot what was required of him. Then he led her to the sofa, pulled her down onto his lap, and buried his face in her hair.

“This is the only way I know to fix this problem,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Who is she?” There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t have asked.

He raised his head, met her gaze. “I don’t know.” A half-truth. “I never met her.” True.

“Come on—you’re marrying someone you’ve never met? You can do better than that.”

He couldn’t tell her that without this marriage, her life was in jeopardy.
“It’s complicated.”

“I just can’t imagine anything’s
that
complicated.” She looked at him directly, scrutinizing his face as if the answer lay within. “What’s really going on? You must have knocked up someone important. Or are you really just tired of me?”

“Jesus, stop. Did it look like I was tired of you last night?”

“Fucking marathons aren’t exactly unusual for you.” She sighed. “Are they?”

“You expect me to answer that?” A hint of his temper began to flare.

And the elephant in the room came to life.
“You have to admit, it’s not unreasonable that I’m questioning this so-called complication. With your history.”

He closed his eyes, wishing the three months were over, that he didn’t have to have this conversation. “No, it’s not unreasonable,” he said, slowly opening his eyes.

“Do they want your money?” She needed a reason that made sense, that took away the fear that he didn’t want her anymore. “Tell me something I can understand. Because I don’t understand this at all.”

He blew out a breath. “I really can’t talk about it.” He hesitated. “That’s part of the complication.”

“Jesus, Dominic.” Her head had begun to spin. “I don’t know if I can believe you. It seems to me you could change this if you wanted. Although maybe I’m expecting too much. Maybe you don’t want to.”

His voice was soft, his eyes gentle. “If I could change this, I would. But I can’t. And I understand how hard it is for you to believe me. The whole goddamn thing is unbelievable. But this clusterfuck is mine to deal with, not yours. You’re busy with a new job now, you’ve got your hands full. Maybe it would be best if we took a break for a few months.”
It was harder to say than he’d thought. Self-sacrifice had always been for others.

She felt her world dim, as if someone had abruptly turned off the lights. “Is that what you want?”

“No, it’s not what I want,” he said, feeling deadly tired. “It’s so far from what I fucking want. But I’m trying to be decent. How can I ask you to sit and wait for me? I’d like to more than anything. I’d like everything just to stay the way it is.” He held her gaze.

She didn’t immediately answer. She turned her head away. Then she looked at him, refusing to let herself be weak enough to cry. “That’s asking too much.”

“I understand,” he said quietly. “It’s not fair to you.”

She felt something deep inside her give, like a Florida sinkhole that was collapsing under her feet. “Damn it,” she whispered, trying to get up. “I’m not going to cry over you. You must do this all the time.”

His grip tightened, forcing her to stay. “I don’t ever do this.” His eyes closed for a second and he took a breath. “I usually say thanks it’s been nice. I’m trying to be a good guy for once in my life.”

“You become a good guy by leaving me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Jesus, baby. Tell me what you want me to say and I’ll say it.”

“Tell me you’re not getting married.”

The silence was oppressive.

“Christ, Dominic. People don’t get married because of some murky business deal. If they did, half the people I shut down online would have to get married. They’re all crooks. Do you really think I’m that stupid? Jesus, I should have known when you were so super nice last night, when
you made me think you actually cared, that I’d get burned in the end. It’s fucking Hong Kong all over again.”

He gave her a black look. “If only it were that simple. Because when it comes to being burned, I’m being consumed by the flames of hell and you’re feeling the heat from blowing out your birthday candles, okay? It’s not even close.”

“So what I feel doesn’t matter? Or not as much as you? Is that right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Answer me, damn it.”

He stared at her, his jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t like my answer.”

Fury began to burn through her consciousness. “Fine,” she said, the single word whip sharp. “I’m sure you’re right. Because you’re always right, aren’t you? I hope your new wife is fucking docile.” She came to her feet, bitchy as hell, and said, “I should thank you for the sex last night. It was great. You were fantastic as usual. And make sure you call off your hired help. I won’t be needing them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for work.”

He watched Katherine leave.

Jesus, that went well.

If this was love, it sucked.

He got up when he heard the bathroom door shut and finished dressing while Kate was in the shower. The streets were still quiet as he walked the few blocks home. The front door opened before he reached it. His major domo stood at attention beside the pedestal table with the large flower arrangement in the center of the entrance hall.

Dominic nodded good morning to the boy who’d opened the door and spoke politely to the older man who ran his London household. “No calls today, Martin, no visitors either. I don’t want to be disturbed. Unless Miss Hart calls.”

But she never did.

He hadn’t really thought she would.

K
ate swore in the shower and swore while she dressed, swore before and after she tried to force herself to eat breakfast, calling Dominic every name in the book. At least it was better than showing up at work red-eyed and splotchy-skinned from sobbing her heart out. She found a cab at the corner and checked her e-mail on her phone as she was driven to work.

She shut her office door the moment she arrived. She normally didn’t, but her emotions were shaky as hell and there was no point in having to explain possible tears to more or less strangers. The day passed in a blur. She ate candy bars for sustenance, which was actually the norm prior to meeting Dominic Knight and his host of personal chefs. She’d always consoled herself that Snickers had peanuts, so protein—right? And the sugar high from the candy was a requirement today when her life was so screwed. But her senses automatically responded to a computer keyboard and screen so she was able to function at a tolerable level, her brain navigating the cyber world on autopilot. Although, she wasn’t the only one screwed that day. She closed down a hefty list of vulnerabilities, flagging a GTFO before she shut down the hackers’ entry points.

At the end of the day, one of the other consultants invited her to join a group going out for drinks. She briefly
hedged, thinking,
Go, go! Don’t be stupid!
Then she smiled and said, “Maybe next time,” because she was already depressed and drinking would only make it worse.

But the minute she reached her flat, she called Meg and whined about no-good men who married other women for no apparent reason and Meg said, “What a fucking liar. I hope you found someone else to sleep with tonight.”

Kate laughed. “I’ll go out and drag someone in off the street.” And she felt a couple degrees better.

“You better fucking mean it,” Meg yelled over the phone. “Although maybe someone you know, someone at work, would be less risky,” she added in a more thoughtful tone. “Send me a picture of the fun.”

Then they talked for a couple hours about badass men, past and present, laughed more than they cried, compared notes on their jobs—Meg’s, fabulous and fun, Kate’s, fabulous and fun when she wasn’t crying, and both ultimately decided that at their age life was still golden—alive with promise and legions of men waiting to be laid.

Before they hung up, Meg asked cautiously, “Are you going to tell Nana?”

“Absolutely not,” Kate said. “Especially not about his marriage. I’d get a lecture for not being more careful about the company I keep and all the while she’d be wondering how I could be so gullible. You know Nana—she’s anything but gullible.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. Anyone would be tempted. The man’s beyond gorgeous even without the money.”

“And unfortunately a grade-A ass. But since Nana already knows the son of a bitch left me once, she won’t
be surprised he’s gone again. So whatever I decide to tell her will be more or less the same old, same old. Speaking of same old, you’re still with Luke. That’s a record for you.”

“I just like him. He’s dependable in a serene, unhurried way—easygoing and calming when I’m wired. And he’s great in bed and not one bit demanding.”

The word
demanding
instantly evoked flame-hot memories that Kate worked furiously to suppress. She wasn’t about to recall all the sensational pleasures inspired by a demanding Dominic—making her do things for him, things that—
Stop! Stop!
Sucking in a breath, she said as calmly as she could, “Great in bed is definitely on my wish list.”

“I’ll be expecting reports on your sex life,” Meg commanded with her usual glass-half-full enthusiasm. “Look how much fun you had with what’s-his-name. Believe me, he’s not the only one with a dick who knows how to use it. Now don’t disappoint me. Got it?”

There was only one acceptable answer for Meg. “Got it,” Kate said. “I’ll let you know.”

And she actually meant it. After talking to Meg she was in a much better frame of mind. Meg saw men as functional objects with dicks she could use. Really, it made sense. Why get involved?

While Kate survived the day at CX Capital, Dominic stayed in his library and drank. Max called. He didn’t pick up. Max came over. He had Martin turn him away. So Martin brought in a note from Max with his wedding date and time scrawled in large print with a note at the bottom. Danelli villa at Fiesole. Morning coat.

Dominic swore, tore up the note, muttered under his
breath, “Morning coat, my ass,” poured himself another drink and finally, late that night, locked the door to the library so he wouldn’t go to see Katherine and make what was bad worse.

He came awake on the couch the next morning sputtering and swearing from the water Max was pouring over his head. “I locked the fucking door,” Dominic growled.

“Good for you,” Max said drily. “Locked doors are child’s play. We have to be there tomorrow,” he added as Martin waved in house staff to clean up the water.

Dominic groaned, took the towel handed to him, and covered his face.

The next morning, Dominic viscerally understood the term
cruel and unusual punishment
, after undergoing the ordeal of a wedding to someone he didn’t know, with guests he didn’t know, with a priest who eyed him like he was some pervert.
Not me
, he wanted to say.
I don’t do thirteen-year-olds, or sixteen-year-olds for that matter.
But he only answered yes or no as needed, didn’t once look at the pregnant young bride, and with a tight smile stood in the blessedly short receiving line after the ceremony.

When the reports had first come in three years ago acquainting him with Gora’s newest infatuation, perversion, whatever you wanted to call it, Dominic had wondered what kind of family would allow it.

Now Dominic had his answer: A titled family with heavily mortgaged property and no money. That’s who. And when he saw the well-heeled guests, albeit only close family, at the wedding
and
the newly refurbished villa, when he met the parents who sized him up like a prize racehorse,
he was reminded of that saying:
No matter how cynical you get, you can’t keep up.

Although he and Gora had already taken precautions to see that no photos would be published and the guests had been warned or threatened into silence, Dominic reminded himself to redouble his efforts in both regards. This Danelli family was out for money and they didn’t care whose it was.

He didn’t stay for the wedding breakfast, nor did he respond to Bianca’s coaxing that was way the hell too friendly. More than most men, he recognized a come-on when he saw it. And once he and Max were in the car and driving away, he mentioned Bianca’s overtly seductive approach. “If that little bitch doesn’t watch it, Gora will see that she does. Did you notice what she did? She practically crawled up my body, which isn’t easy to do when you’re six months’ pregnant. I thought her parents might say something.”

“You’re richer than Gora,” Max said drolly. “Why would they?”

“That whole scene was surreal. And I don’t scare easily.”

“You noticed Gora wasn’t invited.” Max arched a brow. “His money’s good enough but he isn’t.”

“The poor schmuck. He’s being played big-time and he’s actually looking forward to this child. Tell me not to feel sorry for him.”

Max shot Dominic a narrowed glance. “Don’t make that mistake. He’s a brutal killer.”

Dominic nodded. “Never let feelings get in the way. Right?”

“Always a good idea when Gora’s involved.”

“Gora’s problems aside,” Dominic said, “we’d better put round-the-clock surveillance on that sex kitten. Bianca’s for sale and I don’t want to be caught up in some duplicitous scheme that family’s concocted. They’re like modern-day Borgias.”

“We have that covered already. Remember I was the one who did the initial research on the Danellis.”

“Well, keep them far away from me.”

“That’s the plan. Will you be in Paris long?”

“Until this is over.”

It was a short drive to the Florence airport. Dominic’s plane was ready to taxi the moment they boarded and two hours later, Dominic was in his apartment in Paris. And save for two short business trips in the offing, he planned to stay there. He wanted to be near his French attorney so his divorce papers could be filed as soon as Gora’s son was born. Not that he fully trusted any of the other interested parties to notify him. To assure a speedy report, Dominic had come to an agreement with Bianca’s doctor: a new Sardinian villa for the doctor in exchange for immediate news of the birth.

Dominic was in Paris for logistical reasons as well. He was far enough away from London so that he couldn’t force his way into Katherine’s flat—which was a real possibility after a bottle or two. Yet Paris was close enough that he could reach Katherine in under two hours should she call. Not that he didn’t wince at his behavior. Christ, he was like a young boy waiting for his first girlfriend to call. He’d never waited for a woman in his life.

So much for unemotional fixes.

He’d tried calling Kate. Usually late at night, usually not fully sober. She never answered.

He’d texted her once and she texted back: don’t. The short message was lowercase and ended in a period rather than an exclamation point, but he could feel the ice through the phone. He hadn’t done that again.

All of which made the current state of affairs brutal for him.

In desperation, six weeks later, at the beginning of April, he traveled to Minnesota to visit Nana. He’d tried to talk himself out of going. But he had an ache that wouldn’t go away, a gut-wrenching sense of loss, a feeling of aloneness that had never mattered before and now was so deep it was demoralizing.

So he found himself standing outside Nana’s door, waiting for someone to answer his knock. It was cold in northern Minnesota. He should have considered the weather before he left Morocco; he was dressed in jeans, a short-sleeved T-shirt, and sandals. The car he rented at the Duluth airport had been warm so he hadn’t noticed until he was standing in the wind on this porch overlooking a lake that was still covered with ice.

The door suddenly opened.

“I’m not giving the money back if that’s why you’re here,” the elderly lady snapped.

Dominic smiled, thought of Kate, and knew where she’d learned to be outspoken. “Obviously you know who I am.”

“You hide that private foundation real well. It took me more than twenty hours to sift through all the shadow companies
before I found your name on a document.” She smiled. “Love the Web. Opens up the whole world, even to people who live in the sticks.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in. You must be here for a reason and”—she glanced at his sandaled feet—“you’re not dressed for the weather.”

“It was warm when I got on the plane.”

“What are you, a three-year-old kid?” she said over her shoulder, leading him down a hallway.

“I had a lot on my mind, Mrs. Hart.”

“Call me Nana. Everyone does. At least you have an excuse. I suppose what you had on your mind was Katie.”

“Call me Dominic and yes, she’s been on my mind.”

“I have a cousin named Dominic. It’s a pretty common name up here. Have a seat.” She waved him to a chair in a living room that hadn’t changed since the eighties. A hodgepodge of upholstered furniture, nothing matching, framed photos everywhere: mostly Katherine with her trike, bike, motorcycle—his brows went up at that—high school graduation and the prom—he scowled at the good-looking kid standing beside her. There were two recent photos with Katherine smiling on campus, one or two of Nana, one of a man in uniform he assumed was Roy Hart, aka Gramps, and several that must be Katherine’s mother, since the resemblance was strong.

“I was wondering if I’d see you,” Nana said, sitting down opposite Dominic in a matching Barcalounger. “Thanks, by the way, for the money. I’ve already told you I’m not giving it back if that’s why you’re here. With all the cuts in public education, the district needs the money. I didn’t mention it to Katie either. There was no reason to tell her. She’s not
here, if that’s why you came, and I’m not telling you where she is.”

He knew where she was. That wasn’t why he was here.
“I was wondering how she’s doing.”

“How do you think she’s doing? A young handsome man like you with bags of money. You can turn any young girl’s head. Leave Katie alone. You’re out of her league.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then you choose to be.”

Silence. Then he said, “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Too long a pause, my boy. My baby girl needs someone who doesn’t have to think about loving her.”

Dominic visibly flinched at the word
love
. This wasn’t a subject he spoke of in public, or had even considered before Katherine.

“There, you see. You can’t do it.”

“I’d like to try. I am trying.”

“Then tell her.”

“She won’t talk to me.”

“Smart girl,” Nana said, her gray perm stirring with her brisk nod. “She was unhappy for quite a while. She’s better now, if you really want to know. If you want to help her, you’ll leave her alone. She’ll get over you. You’re not the only good-looking man in the world.”

He was pleased to hear Kate was fine; he was displeased to hear she was fine without him. But just talking about her made him happy, so he smiled and said, “She’s been doing well in her new business, I hear.”

Nana scowled. “Don’t try and charm me. I’m an old lady. I’ve seen it all.”

“I’d like to talk about her if you don’t mind.”

Blunt, honest, a quiet humility in his gaze. “Would you like a drink? You look a little peaked.”

“It was a long flight.”

“Come downstairs, I’ll give you a little pick-me-up. My husband, Roy, made my still years ago when he came back from Nam. He needed something to take his mind off… well, you know what went on over there. He showed me everything I know about making vodka and mine’s damn good, if I do say so myself.”

“No problems with law enforcement?” Dominic followed her down the stairs to the basement. She was thin and spry at seventy-five, taking the stairs with a little spring in her step.