Her Secret Thrill(23)

“I’m not used to being dictated to, Natalie. I can certainly appreciate the scare I gave you and the others. I wasn’t too keen on the experience myself.” He looked to the window again. “For that I apologize.”

“Dad—”

He lifted his hand to stall her, but remained facing the window. Apologies came hard enough to him, so she didn’t push. “But I won’t stand for your mollycoddling, Natalie.”

She sighed. He was such a stubborn fool.

He turned, and she was taken aback again by just how much this latest episode had aged him. Or at least revealed the fragility of his health. He’d always been robust of frame and of voice and temperament. Larger than life, even though he was barely taller than her. Now he looked…well, like a senior citizen. “I hardly think making sure you’ve taken your medication is mollycoddling.”

“There is a nurse here for that.”

“And this is already nurse number—what, three? Four? It’s only been ten days.”

“I can’t help it if they can’t handle their responsibilities.” He waved away the discussion, a common tactic when he was fighting a battle he might not win. “I didn’t ask you in here to discuss the sorry state of medical professionals.” He folded his hands in front of his thick robe. “You know I’m glad to have you back home where you belong.”

Natalie knew where this was heading, just as she knew it was pointless to argue. “Shouldn’t you be sitting? You’re not supposed to be up for long periods.”

“Nonsense. I spend far too much time in that bed as it is. Now, don’t redirect the topic here.”

She smiled then. “Sorry. I learned from the best.”

That brought a grudging smile from him. “Yes, well, don’t you forget it. But also remember you can’t outfox a fox.”

“Boy, don’t I know it,” she murmured beneath her breath.

He narrowed his eyes, but went on determinedly. “I’m proud of you, Natalie. Of how hard you worked for your degree, for the bar. I could use you. The family always needs a sharp lawyer. In fact, I have some files I’d like you to read over. I could use your advice.”

Natalie wisely said nothing. He would pull her in with the promise of a legal position, but she’d be shifted into management in the blink of an eye. He’d want her in a position of as much power and control as possible, as he did her brother and both sons-in-law. Her sisters wielded their power in the boardroom with their stock holdings, and in the ballroom. The latter, at times, being more a center of power than the former.

She was the lone wolf, the one that had to be brought back to the fold and put in her proper position. Which was on a pedestal. A distinctly uncomfortable place, and one she’d sworn never to inhabit.

“You need to rest, Dad. We’ll discuss this later.” She went to his bedstand. “And you didn’t take your two o’clocks.”

For once, he let the discussion go. He was a fox and he well knew when to push and when to sit and wait. Well, he was in for one hell of a long wait.

She handed him his pills and poured some water out of the carafe. “Here.”

He took them without argument—likely to put her off her guard. Well, she had been born and raised a Holcomb. She knew the game almost as well as he did. She moved quickly toward the door before he could resume negotiations.

She paused in the doorway. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, after you’ve rested.” For his four o’clock round of pills, she thought, but wisely didn’t say so out loud. “There is one other thing—”

He’d taken a seat by the warmth of the immense fireplace and had picked up a sheaf of papers. He paused in the act of putting on his spectacles, and looked at her. Likely he was expecting her to admonish him for working, but she knew what battles to pick. It was enough that he was in his room, sitting and not badgering the house staff to bring his golf cart around for a little trek about the grounds. An activity she’d only barely managed to thwart this morning.

“I will need to be out of town next weekend. Just overnight. I’ll be leaving early Friday and will be back here no later than Saturday afternoon.” She’d calculated the time frame to reduce the risk to him as much as possible. Plus, she’d already scheduled a family dinner for Friday, which guaranteed he’d go to bed early just to escape the endless nattering.

“Where are you headed?”

“New Orleans.” She crossed her fingers behind her back that he didn’t interrogate her further. She could stand up to her father with no problem, but she couldn’t lie to him.

“Business?”

“Of sorts.”

He merely nodded and went back to his papers, probably as relieved as she that this little interaction was over.

She closed the door and leaned back against it with a deep sigh. She’d realized soon after coming home that there was no way she could simply send a note to Jake explaining everything. She’d gotten in way over her head with him, had broken the rules they’d so carefully set. And now, with the situation with her father…well, there was simply no other choice but to end it with him. But this was something that had to be done in person. As much for herself, as for Jake.

At least, that was her reasoning and she was sticking to it. So what if at night, when she finally fell into bed, exhausted from tangling with her father all day in addition to taking the constant checkup calls from her various siblings, she dreamed of seeing him in New Orleans for entirely different reasons than saying goodbye?

Which was why she’d purposely set up her trip so that she’d have limited time with him. Her plan was to send a note and meet him Friday evening, end it, then cry herself to sleep, or maybe call Liza and pour her heart out, then get the hell out of there as early as possible on Saturday.

She pushed away from the door and headed toward the kitchen. Right now, she had other things to worry about. She had to give the cook an alternative menu to the one she knew her father had ordered. Steak and potatoes with sour cream. The man was a walking death wish. And she’d thought working for Maxwell & Graham was exhausting. She should be thankful, though. Her mind constantly occupied with keeping her father out of trouble, she only thought of Jake every other minute instead of every single minute.

She was going to New Orleans. She shouldn’t be looking forward to it—it was going to be painful in the extreme. But her heart didn’t want to hear that. Her heart was all a-flutter about the fact that she’d get to see him again.

Even if it was for the last time.





13




JAKE COULDN’T REMEMBER ever being so nervous. He paced the foyer of the French Quarter guest house where he’d reserved a room. He’d wanted something different, and this beautifully restored house at the residential end of Bourbon Street was perfect. Quiet and yet very close to all the excitement the Quarter had to offer. He could sit on his balcony and smell the spicy foods and hear the music that seemed to spill from every corner, literally feeling the vibrancy that seemed to rise like steam from the street below. All he needed to make it perfect was for Natalie to come walking through that door.

She’d never contacted him to say she wasn’t coming. Had he not called her office, he’d never have known things had changed for her. So he’d left a note at the hotel where he would have been staying, telling her to meet him here as soon as she got into town. And now he waited. And hoped. And it was pure hell.

If she didn’t show, he’d simply have to accept it was over and walk away. Yet deep down he didn’t think she was the kind of person to simply disappear without a word.

Which left him with another dilemma. What if she did show up, but made no mention of what had caused her to leave her job? There was no reason to think she would, as it was part of their agreement not to talk about things like that. But could he pretend he didn’t know? No. If she didn’t say something, he would. That was the other decision he’d made. If she walked through that door, he was going to lay it all on the line and tell her he wanted more.

Which was why his palms were sweating and he felt like he might lose his breakfast at any second.

And then she was there, standing nervously just inside the huge plank door. “Hi.”

He immediately noticed the difference in her. She wasn’t in her usual business attire. She wore black flats, pleated black slacks and a short-sleeved peach sweater. Polished but not “lawyerly.” Her hair was the same, but her eyes weren’t. They were…sad.

He went to her immediately, but stopped just short of taking her into his arms, when she took a tiny but telling step back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying not to let his own anxiety show.

She looked beyond him, her gaze skirting the sitting room situated just behind him. “Is there someplace we can go?”

“We can talk in here,” he said, nodding toward the sitting room. “Or I have a balcony off my room, if you’d prefer more privacy.”

He could see that she actually had to think about it, which made his heart sink even further. Something was terribly wrong.

“Your balcony would be fine,” she said finally. “I—we need to talk.”