The Tycoon And I. Kandy ShepherdЧитать онлайн книгу.
sorry. I can’t.”
With that he turned, jerking his arm from her touch. He could feel her lethal gaze shooting daggers into his back. He deserved her anger and so much more.
He’d failed Kate and he hadn’t even had the nerve to explain it to her. Although it wasn’t as if she’d understand. Her daughter loved her. Looked up to her. Trusted her.
He inwardly groaned as the thought drove home the pain and guilt. If he was doing the right thing for Carrie, why did it feel so wrong?
Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he took to the stairs. He raced down them as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
Kate would think he was a total jerk. And maybe she was right. Perhaps there was something inherently wrong with him that drove away his ex-wife. And now his child.
KATE SWUNG THE hammer with more force than was necessary, missing the nail and putting a small half-moon indentation in the plaster. Just what she needed, something else to fix. It’d been two days since the incident at the hospital and she was still fuming. It was Lucas’s fault. He’d made a point of avoiding her, rushing off to the office early and receiving an urgent phone call and hurrying out the door just as she returned home for dinner. He assured her it was important business, but she didn’t know if she believed him.
Her mind warned her that Lucas was a typical man—unreliable. Why in the world had she let herself believe that he’d be any different than the other men who passed through her life? They said what they thought she wanted to hear and yet when it came to following through with their promises, they never did.
Lucas might clean up nice with his tailored suits and polished dress shoes, but beneath all of that varnish, he was just another lying man. She grabbed a nail, positioned it along the new chair rail and swung the hammer. Hard. Once again, she’d let her guard down and thought she could trust him. She swung the hammer again, hitting the nail dead center. When would she ever learn not to trust men?
She took another whack at the nail, shoving it further into the wall. Not about to ruin the chair rail with a ding from the hammerhead, she looked around for a nail set. Not finding one handy, she grabbed a scrap piece of wood from the floor, positioned it over the nail and swung again.
“What did that piece of wood do to you?”
Lucas. She’d know his deep, rich voice anywhere. Any other time it’d have washed over her like warm maple syrup—sweetening her up. But not today.
She didn’t bother to stop and face him. Another couple of taps and the nail was flush with the wood. “It got damaged from the leaky roof and had to be replaced.”
“That isn’t what I meant. Seems like you’re taking your anger out on that nail. Did something go wrong with the renovations?”
“No.” The fact that he was acting all Mr. Innocent drove her nuts. “I have everything under control.”
“Listen, I know I’ve been busy, but it couldn’t be helped. With the party coming up, we’ve had to kick up the media blitz for the new jewelry line.”
So that was how it was going to be. Act as if nothing happened. She should have predicted this. Her ex swept any trouble under the carpet and pretended as if it never happened. Well, not today. Something had happened and she wasn’t about to forget it.
She set aside the hammer and stood. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what? Ask about the progress on the house?”
“No. Avoid me and then act like there isn’t a problem between us.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I wasn’t avoiding you. Honest. My marketing director went on an early maternity leave and everyone is pitching in to pick up the slack with the upcoming campaign—”
“Stop. This isn’t about your business. This is about you skipping out on me at the hospital without so much as an explanation.”
“I...I’m sorry.” He looked as though he was searching for the right words. “I wanted to meet your daughter but...”
“But what?” He seemed sincere and she really did want to understand. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t. Not now. Just please believe it had nothing to do with you or Molly. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
The little voice in her head said not to believe him, but her gut said something else entirely. Not sure which to trust, she decided she needed time to think without him clouding her thoughts with the pleading look in his blue-gray eyes.
“Thank you for your apology, but I don’t have time to talk now. I need to finish replacing this chair rail.”
“It looks like you’ll have this place in tip-top shape in no time.”
“I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions yet. There’s a lot to do and if we’re going to showcase the tunnel, we’ll need every single minute before the party.”
“The tunnel?”
Kate made a point of inspecting her handiwork. Finding a nail that wasn’t quite flush, she grabbed the hammer and the scrap piece of wood and gave it a whack. “Surely you know about the prohibition tunnel beneath the house.”
“Of course I do. But my family liked to pretend it didn’t exist. I’m surprised you know about its existence.”
Kate cocked a smile. “You really need to read more often. You’d be surprised what you learn.”
“I read the Wall Street Journal every day.”
“Something tells me that prohibition tunnels wouldn’t be of interest to that paper.”
“Wait. Are you trying to tell me that you read about my house and my family in the paper?”
“Not exactly. Your aunt mentioned that the place had quite a history. And then I did some research online. You’d be amazed at what is put online these days. This house is just teeming with history.”
Lucas raked his fingers through his hair, scattering it in a haphazard fashion. “Great. Isn’t anything private anymore?”
“Quit grumbling and come check it out.” She started for the door. When she didn’t hear Lucas following, she turned back. “You have to see all of the work the men did on the tunnel—from rewiring the lighting to replacing the rotted wood. Although to be honest, it’s more like a long skinny room than a tunnel.”
Lucas let off an exasperated sigh, but she knew once he explored the hidden tunnel, he’d be as impressed as the rest of them. She led him to the back stairs that was constructed of stained wood. But it was the small landing that was a beautiful maze of inlaid wood.
“Someone was very clever,” she said, coming to a stop by a sunset-inspired stained-glass window. “I’m guessing it was your great-grandfather’s idea to create such an artistic floor pattern. If I hadn’t known to look, I never would have guessed the center section opens up.”
Sticking her finger in a discreet thumbhole, she lifted the wood panel. Inside was a rustic wood ladder.
“Don’t worry. The ladder is safe. The men just finished the repairs today and I haven’t had a chance to look around. You must be familiar with it.”
“Actually, I’ve never been down there. My grandfather had the entrance sealed. I’m surprised the workmen were able to open it up without damaging the wood.”
“Believe me, it took a while and lots of care. But I think they did an excellent job. Let me be the first to give you the grand tour.” She didn’t bother to wait for him to make up his mind. She started her descent.
Entering this rustic area was like