Unwrapping the Playboy (16 page)

“I wouldn't go advertising that if I were you.”

“Why are you so calm?” she demanded, frustrated. He should be helping her, not holding her back.

Unless—

“Wait,” she cried, staring at him. “Does how calm you're being have anything to do with that call you just took from Jewel?”

He smiled at her. “It has everything to do with that call I just took from Jewel,” he told her. And then, maddeningly, he gave her a platitude. “Have a little faith, Lilli.” He kissed her forehead as if to brand her with the philosophy. “Now, if you really want to make breakfast, I suggest you put something on because if you keep standing like that in front of me, I really am going to wind up having something else to eat for breakfast,” he told her with a wicked grin.

She was too nervous to dally with him again, no matter how tempting the idea might be. Her heart wouldn't be in it.

Because her heart was severely worried.

“I'll get dressed,” she told him, extracting her wrist from his grip.

As she hurried off to the closet, she felt just the tiniest bit better. Kullen wouldn't be teasing her like this if she was about to lose custody of Jonathan.

At least, she fervently prayed that he wouldn't.

For her own sanity, she pushed the thought from her mind. Pushed everything from her mind and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, praying that eventually, it would lead her from here to there—and
there
would be someplace where she actually
wanted
to be. With her son.

 

“Why can't you tell me exactly what this magic ‘weapon' you have is,” Lilli asked between her clenched teeth. She and Kullen stood waiting for the door to Elizabeth Dalton's mansion to open in response to the doorbell he had just rung.

It was Monday morning and although she'd sent Jonathan off to school with her mother, there was no way she could pretend that it was business as usual. For one thing, she hadn't gone in to work, asking one of the sales clerks to open today. For another, she had argued her way into going with Kullen to his meeting with the woman who had the power to summarily ruin her life.

Or rather, more specifically, the power to turn her and her son into fugitives.

She'd meant what she'd told Kullen on Sunday. If her back was to the wall with no other choice open to her, she was willing to kill Elizabeth Dalton before she would allow the woman to touch her son.

Since it wasn't part of her inherent nature to kill in sects, much less a person no matter how odious, the next best thing for her was to vanish. And that meant turning her son and herself into fugitives.

It also meant, she suddenly realized, never seeing Kullen again.

The very thought of that all but ripped her heart out of her chest.

Just as Kullen had said that his had been ripped out when he'd discovered that she'd disappeared, leaving behind the engagement ring he'd given her.

She slanted a glance at Kullen. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. She wanted to tell him that she loved
him even though this might be the last time they were together.

She wanted to say so many things, but now was not the time. So she kept her peace and pressed her lips together, praying that there would
be
another time for them when she could say all that.

The door opened just then and the same dour-faced man, Terrence, greeted them with a curt nod. His small, deep-set eyes focused on Kullen.

“Mrs. Dalton's been expecting you,” Terrence said to him. And then, squinting, the tiny brown marbles shifted toward Lilli. “But not you.”

B
efore Lilli could open her mouth to voice her protest, Kullen spoke up on her behalf.

“Ms. McCall has a right to be at this meeting, especially since it involves the question of her son's custody,” Kullen informed the tall, unsmiling man. Although mildly friendly and conversational, there was no room for argument with his tone.

And, after a moment of what appeared to be somewhat annoyed reflection, Terrence obviously decided that it was in his best interest not to argue. With another curt nod of his head, the dour man bit off, “Follow me,” turned on his heel and walked into the exquisitely decorated, oversize mansion that had all the warmth of a mausoleum.

As before, Elizabeth Dalton sat waiting for Kullen in the library. There was a manila envelope on the coffee table before her.

Regal, poised and extremely confident, the woman's smile faded when she saw that this time Kullen had brought his client with him.

The breath Mrs. Dalton dramatically exhaled testified to her displeasure. “When I said I wanted to see you, Mr. Manetti, I meant you in the singular form, not the plural.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Kullen sat down on the sofa beside the woman.

After a beat, Lilli sank down on the love seat that faced the sofa. She couldn't bring herself to sit any closer than that to Elizabeth Dalton.

“Since everything we say here is going to affect Ms. McCall, I see no reason she should be kept away from this meeting,” he told Mrs. Dalton.

Elizabeth slanted a look toward the woman she regarded as just a shade above dirt and smirked.

“Very well, I was attempting to spare her some embarrassment, but upon reflection, she's undoubtedly ac customed to being embarrassed on a regular basis.” Dismissing Lilli's presence as not worth her attention, Elizabeth turned back to Kullen and what really mattered here. “I asked you here as a courtesy. I want you to drop all opposition to my custody suit, or my lawyers will be forced to enter these photographs into evidence to show the court just how unfit your client is to raise my grandson.”

So saying, Elizabeth withdrew several black-and-white eight-by-ten photographs from the envelope and carefully dealt them one by one across the surface of the coffee table as if she were distributing giant playing
cards. The small, smug smile on her lips grew deeper when she heard Lilli's sudden sharp intake of breath.

Elizabeth sat back on the sofa, admiring the photographs she'd paid a private investigator a fortune to take.

“As you can see, these are all quite damning.” She raised eyes the color of blueberries to Kullen's face. “Although I must say, Mr. Manetti, you have a spectacularly athletic body under those impeccably tailored suits. I never would have guessed if I hadn't seen these photographs myself.”

“How dare you!” Lilli cried. “It's not bad enough that your son ripped apart my life, now you want to take your turn at it, too?”

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed to reptilian slits as she regarded Lilli. “I will dare anything to get what I want, and I want my grandson.”

“You can't—” Lilli stopped abruptly and looked at Kullen, who had just grabbed her arm. “What?” she demanded, fighting the urge to pull the woman's carefully styled blond hair out by its roots.

“It's okay, Lilli,” he assured her in a voice that was almost maddeningly calm and controlled. “No one's going to see these photographs.”

“Not if you relinquish your claim to Jonathan's custody,” Elizabeth underscored confidently.

“I don't need to ‘claim' custody, I
have
custody,” Lilli declared angrily. “He's my son.”

Rather than try to calm Lilli down, Kullen focused his attention on the woman creating these emotional tidal waves. Opening his jacket, he took an envelope of his own from his inside pocket.

He took what he needed out of the envelope. “I'll see your compromising photographs and raise you these,” he told the older woman in a cheerful voice, lining up his photographs directly beneath hers.

“What are these?” Elizabeth demanded impatiently as her anger flared. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about your late, although far from great, career, Mrs. Dalton. Or would you prefer I call you by your stage name, Hard-hearted Hannah? If I'm not mistaken, you got that name from an old song. But then, these photographs are from a long time ago, too. Another lifetime, I dare say.

“Still, if you look closely, there is no mistaking the true identity of the athletic young woman in these photographs.” He looked up at Mrs. Dalton. “I had no idea that a human body could actually bend to that extent. You possessed an exceptional talent.”

Elizabeth Dalton had gone pale, even as her eyes widened. “Where did you get those photographs?” she demanded hoarsely.

He was in no hurry to tell her everything in short sound bites. He let her twist a little, as he was certain she had done to Lilli.

“Well, technically,” he began slowly, carefully realigning the photographs, “they weren't photographs to begin with. These are stills taken from a compromising video. I apologize for the quality, but I had to work with what I had.” The note of regret in his voice mocked her. “I wonder what the board members at Dalton Pharmaceuticals would say if they saw these. Or maybe I'll just burn copies of the original video for them. One copy for each of them. What do you think?”

“You wouldn't dare.” There was a dangerous note in the woman's voice, but she no longer had any idea who she was dealing with. She had assumed that a playboy like Kullen would go for the easy fix, talking his client into going along with what was expedient.

Kullen didn't even blink. “Oh, I think we both know that I would. And it would be such a shame, too, to destroy your reputation after you've spent half a lifetime carefully crafting it and bolstering it with all those generous donations to charities. But I assure you it can be done, Mrs. Dalton. The public, as I'm sure you already know, loves to fawn and elevate almost as much as it likes to revile and tear down. Guess which category you'll fall into?” he asked with a complacent smile.

Before she answered, he continued. “My guess is that a story like this about a person of your high standing will go viral in a heartbeat and continue with themes and variations ad nauseum for quite some time. I can hear the morning-show hosts vying for exclusive interviews with you and anyone who's had any contact with you since you were six.”

Impotent rage—because she knew when she'd been outmaneuvered—brought the color back into Elizabeth's cheeks. “What do you want?” she ground out.

“Nothing beyond your capacity to give,” Kullen informed her.

Leaning over the coffee table, she opened a finely carved ebony box and extracted a checkbook and pen. She glared at Kullen, pen poised.

“How much?”

“It's not a matter of money, Mrs. Dalton,” he told her, confident that she already knew that. Kullen nodded
toward the photographs he'd laid out. “I can make this all go away if you give up the custody battle.”

Instead of agreeing, Mrs. Dalton defended her actions, even though it had been more than three decades since she'd had to resort to anything remotely resembling an explanation, much less a defense.

“I'm not a monster, Mr. Manetti. I was trying to do right by the boy, the way I apparently hadn't by his father.”

Kullen remained unmoved, but he did counter her claim. “Leaving him with a mother who loves him more than her own life
is
doing right by the boy.”

“You can still see him,” Lilli put in. Both Elizabeth and Kullen looked at her in obvious surprise. It wasn't hard to guess that her silence had made them both temporarily forget that she was even in the room. “On holidays and his birthday, you're welcome to come over for a visit.”

“What if I wanted him to come here?” Elizabeth challenged stubbornly.

Though Lilli was soft-spoken, she was no longer easily intimidated or led around. She knew what she wanted and she wasn't anyone's pushover anymore.

“Maybe sometime in the future,” she allowed, “but for the time being, Jonathan and I will have to respectfully decline,” Lilli replied. “The choice to accept my invitation or not is yours.”

Disgruntled, unwilling to capitulate to someone so young, Elizabeth turned her attention back to the lawyer. When everything else was stripped away, at bottom she was a survivor and she intended to survive this as well.

“All right,” she bit off, “I'll have my lawyers withdraw
the claim.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want the tape you have and those photographs.” She began gathering them up even as she spoke.

Kullen pushed the rest of the photographs across the table toward her.

“And the original tape?” It wasn't a question so much as a demand. She put her hand out, waiting.

Kullen made no move to produce anything. The tape was housed in a safe place, one he didn't intend to disclose to the woman. “For now my firm is going to hang on to the original tape.”

Elizabeth's dark eyes narrowed into small, angry slits. “Until when?”

“Until Jonathan's eighteenth birthday,” Lilli told her before Kullen could answer. “Mark your calendar. You can come to his birthday party and I will turn over the original tape to you. But not until then.”

Elizabeth didn't say anything immediately. Instead, she sat there, frustrated that she had no options open to her. She wasn't accustomed to losing control.

“You're a gutsy little bitch, aren't you?” she finally said.

Lilli took no offense. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a faint note of admiration in the older woman's tone. It was the first sign of respect Lilli had ever received from her.

Lilli pulled no punches. “Much like you were, I'm told, when you married a much older Donavan Dalton.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips as she glared at her. And then, slowly, the glare receded. She turned toward Kul
len. Her reputation was everything to her. Far more important than a grandson she'd only glimpsed twice.

When she finally spoke, her voice was begrudging, but resigned. “You have a deal, Mr. Manetti.”

 

After the initial profusion of thank-you's from Lilli, a strange silence between them slipped into the car as Kullen drove her home.

He reasoned that she was overwhelmed and drained. She had been under a huge emotional strain these last few weeks. He assumed that, from one standpoint, it was difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she was finally free to enjoy her son without fear getting in her way, causing her to keep looking over her shoulder.

Still, as the silence stretched out, he found it to be more than a little disconcerting. Granted, Lilli wasn't the type to babble, but he'd never known her to be speechless, either. Especially at a time like this.

Was something wrong?

Taking the exit ramp off the freeway, he decided to plunge in. “Well, it's finally over. Now at least you can stop worrying about having to run off into the night, and go back to moving forward with your life.”

He'd even brought the paperwork with him for Mrs. Dalton to sign, rescinding all claims to Jonathan's custody. He'd gone into the office late Sunday evening to get the proper papers drawn up. He intended to file them as soon as possible, closing the book on this case, and giving Lilli her life back, perhaps for the first time in years.

Now it was a done deal. Lilli was no longer his cli
ent. He couldn't help wondering, did that leave the door open, or shut?

She'd been staring at her hands, unseeing, for the last fifteen minutes, fighting a mounting, overwhelming sorrow.

There was no longer an excuse for him to be with her every night, no reason for him to stop by. Would it all end right here? Was this just an interlude for him, nothing more? Would she fall victim to the proverbial “out of sight, out of mind?”

The knot in her stomach told her she would. Her heart refused to believe it.

She had to know, had to ask. “I guess I won't be seeing you anymore then.”

Her words hit him with the force of a pitched rock. Just like that? She could walk away just like that? Again?

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he flew through a yellow light on the verge of turning red. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

She wasn't going to cry, she told herself, fiercely struggling not to. She didn't want him to remember her crying.

“Is there a difference?” Lilli asked in a flat whisper.

Maybe he wasn't reading her right, he thought. Oh, God, he hoped he wasn't.

“Well, yes,” he told her patiently. “If you're
telling
me, that means you're severing ties. If you're
asking
me, that means that maybe you don't want those ties severed just yet.” He glanced in her direction as he eased to a stop just shy of the intersection.

She didn't know what he wanted to hear. She refused to be the clinging woman he kept around just because he thought she couldn't stand on her own. But at the same time, if that was the only way she could keep him in her life, the temptation was huge—

No, she silently insisted, it was wrong. She couldn't make him stay. That would destroy anything they'd had together, however briefly it had existed.

Again she took the direct route. “What do you want me to say?”

He didn't want to put words into her mouth, didn't want to hear her reading off invisible cue cards he'd forced on her. Hearing her parrot the words wouldn't mean anything to him. He wanted her to tell him the truth. Even if it ripped him apart again.

“What's in your heart, Lilli?” he asked. “I want you to tell me what
you
want to say.”

Still staring at her clenched hands, she loosened them, prayed and then looked up. “No.”

He waited for more. There wasn't any. He tried to make sense out of what she'd just told him. “You won't tell me what's in your heart?”