The Hidden Heir. Debra WebbЧитать онлайн книгу.
the strongest Colombian blend, no doubt. Cup in hand, he bypassed the side counter holding various sweeteners and creamers and headed directly for her table. That determined gaze settled on hers and that special connection that bound them so inextricably hummed at its full intensity.
“Is this seat taken?”
She looked up at the man she loved more than life itself and let her smile speak for her. Her husband’s own lips quirked as he lowered himself into the seat. The tailored pin-striped suit he wore was her favorite. The blue shirt and deeper navy tie turned his silvery eyes to a warmer hue of passionate gray, making her feel warm and safe inside.
Lucas surveyed the dwindling comings and goings, then rested his full attention on her. “It’s kind of early for a break, isn’t it?”
That much was true. It wasn’t even nine yet. This man had spent the past twenty plus years worrying about her. Even now, when life was as good as it gets, he didn’t relent.
“It’s been a long time, Lucas, since I’ve sat and watched life happen around me. I’ve been so busy trying to keep my world from shattering at every turn that I couldn’t risk taking note of anything else.” It felt good to be able to step back and just enjoy life as it happened.
He nodded knowingly. “You’re afraid it won’t last.”
Victoria frowned, performing a quick inventory of her feelings. “To some degree, I suppose that’s a fair assessment.” She picked up her tea, held it with both hands and relished its warmth. However strong she might be, no one was exempt from worry now and again. “Who doesn’t worry?”
“You could always retire,” he suggested with a mischievous twinkle in those sexy eyes. “We could spend our mornings watching the world go by and our evenings admiring the sunset from anywhere in the world that pleases you.”
She couldn’t say his offer wasn’t tempting, but Victoria understood that she would never be happy doing only that. Retirement was not for her. “I can’t say that I haven’t considered just that,” she admitted. Especially since Lucas had stepped down from his high-powered position in D.C., choosing to serve as a consultant when needed and usually via a telephone conference. Once in a while, he still had to fly to the District to take care of highly classified business personally. Then there was the pending arrival of their first grandchild.
In spite of all those seemingly logical reasons to choose retirement, she knew herself too well. “But you know that would never be enough.”
“I would be shocked if you had proposed otherwise.” Lucas leaned forward and gave a covert look around to ensure no one was within hearing distance. “Speaking of work, Mildred wanted me to give you a message.”
Victoria lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “Did Mildred send you to bring me back?” She hadn’t intended to stay this long; time had gotten away from her. It amused her immensely that Lucas didn’t mind playing messenger. Just another indication of how very much he loved her.
“You had a call from a client she felt you wouldn’t want to miss. The appointment is scheduled for half an hour from now.”
Her calendar was clear this morning. An unexpected appointment wouldn’t be a problem. “Who’s the client?” Someone in a hurry, obviously. Someone who wanted to see her personally rather than one of the two men who served as her seconds-in-command.
“Desmond Van Valkenberg.”
Surprised, she tried to remember the last time she’d had Mr. Van Valkenberg or his representative in her office. Three years? Four? A corporate profile request, if her memory served her correctly. She didn’t know Desmond that well, but she had known his father quite well. Hershel Van Valkenberg had been a giant in finance, a man of his word until the day he passed away twelve years ago. He preferred doing business the old-fashioned way, himself and in person. His son had proved to be a vastly different businessman, with numerous representatives to see after his interests while he remained reclusive and as far from the limelight as possible.
“He’s sending his representative, a Mr. Lance Brody, to see you.”
Mr. Brody was his personal attorney, not one of the corporate team he usually sent. Victoria had met the gentleman once at a reception she had attended and where Van Valkenberg had made one of his rare appearances. Brody was a very formal man. He gave new meaning to the term stuffed shirt, but had quite the stellar reputation as an attorney.
In any event, she should prepare for his arrival. She stood. “Under the circumstances I suppose we should get back.”
Lucas pushed to his feet with effort. Some days, the fact that he wore a prosthetic for a right leg was more pronounced than others. Her heart squeezed at the memory of how he’d gained that at times unwieldy appliance. His sacrifice as a prisoner of war had saved her first husband’s life long, long ago. Lucas was not only a wonderful husband, he was also a man of unparalleled courage. He’d proven to be her savior more than once.
He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
Victoria looped her arm in his and thanked God again for this wondrous man. To have known and loved two great men in her lifetime was truly a blessing few had the good fortune of claiming. “Absolutely.”
A few minutes later, Victoria sat in her office reviewing the Van Valkenberg file Mildred had already pulled for her convenience. The work the Colby Agency had done for this client, and for his father before him, generally involved background searches on potential employees and profiles of companies targeted for potential mergers. She had every reason to anticipate that the coming meeting would be more of the same. But she was puzzled that he had chosen to send his personal attorney.
A light rap on the door alerted her to Brody’s arrival. Mildred opened the door and announced him. Victoria, though strangely preoccupied with her own thoughts this Monday morning, couldn’t help noticing her longtime secretary’s glow. Another weekend with her beau, she supposed. Victoria felt certain those two would be setting a wedding date soon. And why not? Life was too precious to waste.
Victoria rose from her chair. “Thank you, Mildred.” She shifted her full attention to her visitor. “Mr. Brody, come in, please.”
Lance Brody crossed the room in three long strides and, shifting his briefcase to his left hand, extended his right across her desk. “Mrs. Colby-Camp, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Victoria shook his hand, acknowledging his greeting with a nod. “Why don’t we sit and you can tell me what it is that Mr. Van Valkenberg requires of my agency. We’re anxious to be of service.”
Brody sat, his shoulders as stiff as the freshly starched gray suit he wore. “Our needs are quite different this time I’m afraid. This time is…personal.”
A new kind of tension rippled through Victoria. Personal. Desmond Van Valkenberg was not the kind of man who often allowed anyone outside his most intimate circle close enough to know his most personal business.
“I see. Why don’t you start at the beginning and give me the details.” Victoria settled into her chair and waited for the representative of her client to proceed as he saw fit.
Brody crossed his long legs and appeared to settle in. “Some ten years ago, a female companion of Mr. Van Valkenberg’s, a Miss Ashley Orrick, gave birth to a son while living here in Chicago with him. The two had been involved for just over one year.”
Victoria was surprised to hear this. She wasn’t aware that Desmond had any children. “Was proof of paternity obtained?”
The lawyer nodded. “Certainly, but the trouble ultimately proved unnecessary. There were a few minor complications at birth and the child’s blood type confirmed the truth of his parentage. Mr. Van Valkenberg has a very rare blood type. The child has the same.”
“Has there been contact with the child or the mother recently?”
“Not since the child was about three months old. The woman, Miss Orrick, left abruptly and took the child with