The Butler's Daughter (18 page)

Annette hugged him. “I can do that.”

They stopped to refuel the chopper and to eat breakfast. Annette, her thoughts obviously far away, pushed her scrambled eggs around on her plate. Her eyes held a disturbing emptiness that made him want to reassure her that she would always have a place in Cort's life. But now wasn't the time.

As they returned to the chopper, Hunter took the seat on the bench beside her and patted her hand. “It won't be long now.”

Her brief smile was taut with nerves. “It feels like I've been waiting forever.”

 

“W
HY CAN'T
I
COME UP
to the house now to see him?” Annette demanded when Hunter showed her to Windermere
cottage and told her he'd be returning shortly with her nephew.

“Security reasons. With footage of the funeral all over the media, I don't want to take the chance that one of the servants might recognize you. I know you're anxious. Bear with me.”

Hunter felt his heart give pause as he came around the edge of the house and saw Juliana and Brook seated on the terrace, their heads close together, enjoying the late-morning sunshine and a cup of tea. Cort rocked in a baby swing, a colored block grasped in each tiny hand, while Parrish swiped at plastic golf balls on the lawn with a toy club. He heard Juliana laugh and a smile began deep inside him and pushed itself to the surface.

Juliana lifted her silver-blond head, the sun bathing her profile with a gilt halo. Hunter felt himself stumble into a void of confusion and desire when she turned her head and saw him, her face softening into a welcoming smile.

He ceased being able to function, his chest tightening with denial as she leaped to her feet and came to greet him. She was wearing jeans this morning and a cream cable-knit sweater.

“There you are, my prince!”

Surprise and wariness at her teasing tone spilled through him as she stroked his cheek then slipped her hand behind his neck and nudged his head down for a kiss. The determined glint in her eyes warned him something was different about her a split second before she kissed him. His hands tightened reflexively around her waist, pulling her lovely jeans-clad body against him as her tongue parted his lips in the sweetest of invasions.

He instantly forgot about Brook and Parrish as his right hand slid up her spine and twined in her loose hair. Slanting
his mouth over hers, he countered her sweet invasion with one of his own, taking control of the kiss.

He'd been thinking about kissing her like this ever since he'd made love to her. Once ignited, desire long denied held him hostage until something hit him in the leg and brought him back to the edge of reason. He reluctantly tore his mouth from Juliana's and looked down at one of Parrish's golf balls.

Parrish was eyeing him intently, his hands on his bony hips. “Sorry. I said ‘fore' like I was supposed to, didn't I, Mommy?”

“You certainly did,” Brook said with a chuckle, “but I don't think Hunter heard you. I think we need to excuse ourselves and leave these two newlyweds alone.”

“Aw, do I have to 'xcuse myself? I wanna play golf with Uncle Hunter.”

Hunter gave Juliana one last hard kiss on her mouth as if to remind himself where they left off and hunched down beside his nephew. “We'll have to play another time. I've been working all night and I've got more work to do.”

Brook took her son's hand. “Come on, kiddo. We need to pack your bag for your visit to Daddy's tonight.”

Hunter ruffled his nephew's hair. “Have fun at your dad's. I'll see you Sunday night.”

Juliana pushed back the feeling of shyness as Brook and Parrish walked away. She and Hunter had made love, there was no reason to be shy with him. Resting her head against his chest, she slipped her fingers inside his jacket to warm them. “I was getting worried. You were gone so long. Is everything okay? Is Annette with you?”

He laughed, the sound rumbling against her ear. “That's a lot of questions.” His arm looped around her, his fingers lightly stroking her hair. She sighed contentedly. She hadn't
exactly told him she loved him and wanted to renegotiate the terms of their agreement, but this was a promising start.

“I've got a lot to tell you, but there's someone in Windermere who's waiting anxiously to see Cort. Let's pick him up as if we're going for a stroll. We can talk on the way over.”

Juliana extracted herself from the warmth of his embrace, her heart paining her as she took a closer look at him. Even with a day's worth of stubble shadowing his jaw and weary lines bracketing his eyes and mouth, he was the sexiest man she'd ever seen.

Her pulse skipped in anticipation of spending a lifetime comforting him. Sharing his bed. Showing him in numerous ways that she loved him. She caressed his shoulder as he scooped Cort up out of the swing. “Are you making headway in the investigation?”

He swung around with Cort in his arms, his eyes steely with determination. “Yes, finally. We located Nonnie Wilson last night at a New Age retreat in Quebec. I know you don't want to hear this, but she may be the mole in the Collingwood household.”

Juliana listened with growing skepticism to his account of his conversation with the Collingwoods' cook. “Admittedly Nonnie's eccentric and narcissistic, but she's not exactly Mata Hari. So what if Simon Findlay, the Younges and Sable Holden approached her about catering a private function? That's not so unusual. She's an exceptional chef.”

Hunter's left brow lifted to a cynical angle. “So why did she call the Younges right after I interviewed her?”

“Probably because she wants to work for them. Or she feels some sort of loyalty toward them and warned them you were asking questions about them. You know, just because your family butler betrayed your family doesn't mean
that someone on the Collingwoods' staff betrayed Ross and Lexi.”

Every angle in Hunter's face hardened. “Who told you that?”

“Your sister.”

His stride lengthened. “She talks too much.”

“She thought I should know.” Juliana touched his arm. Felt the tight bunch of muscles reacting to her touch. “I'm glad she told me. It explained a few things.”

He stopped abruptly and swiveled toward her. “What things?”

Cort's eyes grew round as if he sensed the tension between them. “Ba-da?”

Juliana held her ground and calmly faced him. “Like why you wanted a marriage free of emotional and physical entanglements. And why you don't trust me.”

“You think I don't trust you?”

“You can hardly say the word without flinching. I saw it in your face in your bedroom Wednesday night. And in your office the next morning.”

“I don't think this is the right time for this conversation,” he ground out.

“There'll never be a right time for this conversation, Hunter. My father never let me talk about Michael because it was too painful for him. He never touched me, never hugged me after my brother died. I have been through too much with my father to suffer that kind of treatment from my husband. This may not have started out as a real marriage, but I promised to love and honor you and I'm giving you notice that I intend to keep that promise.”

“You're what?”

“You heard me. I love you! And not because of the zeroes in your bank account or that very handsome face of yours. I love you because you have everything and you
know that none of that matters as much as protecting and caring for the people you love. So get used to the idea of me loving you.”

It was neither ladylike, nor romantic and it wasn't quite how she'd planned to share her feelings, but the words had flown out of her mouth and Juliana couldn't take them back. Wouldn't take them back. Heart pounding, she turned and stomped down the path toward Windermere.

 

T
HUNDERSTRUCK
, H
UNTER STARED
after her as Cort started to cry.

Had Juliana just told him she loved him?

Funny, he didn't remember anything about Cinderella shouting at her Prince Charming.

But then, Hunter admitted to himself, he hadn't been the least bit charming. He was not even calm. His knees, in fact, were unsteady. She'd poured her heart out to him and he'd stood there like a Neanderthal trying to make sense of a foreign language, wanting to rage that he'd never asked her to love him.

He didn't want her to love him.

And furthermore, he absolutely did not want to be standing here watching her walk away from him with this sick feeling of dread in his stomach.

Should he go after her? His heels dug into the path.

And tell her—what?

That he needed her. Oh, God, he needed her! Making love to her the other night had been his salvation and his downfall.

She loved him.

Hunter let the enormity of that thought sink in beneath the din of the baby's cries as Cort butted his head into his shoulder, seeking comfort. Hunter rubbed his little back. “It's all right. Don't cry. Mommy's just a little upset.”

The thought that he was hurting Juliana sliced his heart into ribbons. She was so beautiful. So good. She'd given up so much for Cort. How could he deny her the affection she so rightly deserved—the affection he craved to give her?

He strode down the path after her, rounded a bend and found her seated on a bench, her back to him, looking out at the river.

He stopped behind her and touched her cheek, feeling the damp path of her tears on his palm. Helpless to know how to prevent those tears. “Juliana, I don't pretend to know anything about love. The whole institution of marriage terrifies the hell out of me. But as God is my witness, kissing you is no pretense. And staying out of your bed is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I don't want to hurt you.”

She clasped his hand and pulled it to her lips, sealing her words with a kiss. “I know.”

She did? Was he that transparent?

Hunter tugged on her hand, urging her off the bench. The hope and the love welling in her eyes as she faced him humbled him. He wasn't worthy of her. But for Juliana, for Cort, he would try. He erased the tears from her cheek with his thumb, then leaned down and kissed her damp lips. Peace settled in his stomach. “Annette's waiting. Join me for a shower later?”

Her smile was more radiant than a sunrise as she took Cort from his arms. “If you'll be naked, I'll be there.”

 

“Y
OU'RE WHAT
?”

“I'm Cort's legal guardian,” Hunter explained gently as Juliana placed the baby in Annette's waiting arms. “Ross and I were friends for years.”

“Umpf!” Annette said, momentarily distracted by the
squirming bundle of little boy. “He's so big. And beautiful! He's blond like Ross. I imagined he'd be darker like Lexi.”

Juliana stood back and looked from aunt to nephew. “I think he has your nose.”

“I have my father's nose.”

Frowning up at this new stranger, Cort tentatively explored his aunt's face with his tiny fingers.

Juliana beamed. “See, he's warming up to you. He's a little cranky. It's almost time for his nap.”

Cort gave a sharp high-pitched squeal, making Annette laugh. “I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt this little guy. Has he been staying here since…?” Her sentence trailed off as if she couldn't bring herself to mention the bombing.

Hunter exchanged a glance with Juliana. “Actually Juliana and I were married last Tuesday. I've brought them here as my wife and son. Given the circumstances of your sister and her husband's deaths, I thought it necessary to protect their son's identity until he's old enough to receive his inheritance.”

“You married
her
just like that?”

Hunter ignored her rudeness. “Juliana's been caring for Cort since birth. He's better off with two parents than one.”

Annette appeared to think that over for a moment. “And how do I fit into this cozy little family scenario? He's my nephew.”

Hunter sat down on the ottoman in front of her. “How about as a close friend of my wife who visits frequently on weekends and holidays?”

“Really?”

Juliana squeezed Annette's shoulder. “Of course. You're Cort's family. He needs you. And you need him. You can stay as long as you like, so get settled and make yourself comfortable. You've got lots of privacy here and we're
going to do everything we can to make this difficult time easier for you. After the servants leave at three, you're welcome to come up to the house and spend more time with the baby—and join us for dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you.” Her green gaze flicked to Hunter. “Do the police have any suspects?”

“They have some promising leads, but nothing conclusive,” he admitted. “They reached a dead end with the pager and haven't located the florist that had prepared the flower order. And we haven't ruled out a connection between Riana's kidnapping and the bombing. I'm not giving up on finding Riana.”

Annette captured Cort's tiny wrist with her fingers, her expression pensive. “I still think Sable Holden's behind this. Only a jealous woman would kill with flowers.”

 

H
UNTER STEPPED INTO
the shower, his heart pounding and anxiety making his muscles feel leaden. They'd returned to the house and had lunch with Brook and Parrish. Then Juliana had whisked Cort upstairs for his afternoon nap. She'd join him in a minute.

He was iron-hard with wanting her and naked in more ways than one.

He worked soap over his body. Being this vulnerable didn't fit comfortably on his skin. The door to the bathroom opened.

“Hunter?” Juliana's voice was soft and melodious.

He had to swallow hard to make his throat work. “In here.”

The curtain around the old-fashioned bathtub slid open and Juliana stood within arm's reach, naked, her glorious hair spilling over her shoulders. Her eyes admiring and wanting.