Mistaken for a Mistress Page 8

  Kerry collapsed onto the sofa and tossed her purse aside. “Nothing happened, other than he lied to me.”

  “Lied about what?”

  She didn’t really have the energy to rehash the evening, but she knew Millie wouldn’t let up until she came clean. “As it turns out, Ford Matthews is really Ford Ashton, the grandson of my deceased boss and the nephew of the man arrested for the murder. He was wooing me in order to find out if I knew anything about Spencer Ashton’s death in order to clear his uncle.”

  “Why would he think you would know anything?”

  “Someone told him I was Spencer’s mistress, if you can imagine that. The man was a bastard and an egomaniac who saw every one of his assistants as an easy target. I had absolutely no use for him. But I didn’t have him murdered, although a few times I did consider knocking him over the head with a paperweight when he tried to grab my butt.”

  Millie frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? I know many of the Ashton-Lattimer board members. I could have stopped the man’s harassment.”

  Kerry doubted that, in light of Spencer’s standing with the company, governing board or no governing board. “I needed to handle it myself, Millie. I can’t keep relying on you to rescue me.”

  “And this Ford believed you had Spencer killed?”

  “He thought it was a possibility, but now he knows he was wrong. At least, I think he does. I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

  With narrowed eyes, Millie studied Kerry’s face. “Did he do anything inappropriate to you?”

  Nothing she hadn’t wanted. “Actually, I practically threw myself at him because I thought I could trust him. He stopped before things went too far. He said he couldn’t lie to me any longer and then he told me who he is. End of story.”

  Millie tented her hands beneath her chin. “I must admit, my opinion of him has risen.”

  That almost shocked the life out of Kerry. “You’re defending him?”

  “You said he’s trying to clear his uncle?”

  “Yes. The man who raised him.”

  “And he would do anything to do that, I take it.”

  “Yes, and that included lying to me even before he had all the facts.”

  “But when the opportunity presented itself to have his way with you, he stopped.”

  Kerry’s gaze drifted away from Millie’s steady gaze. “Yes.”

  “My dear, it takes a very strong man to pass up such an opportunity since the majority of the male species is ruled by baser urges. It also takes a man with a strong sense of honor.”

  Kerry had to admit the truth in Millie’s assertions even if she wanted to deny them. “I realize that, but he had other opportunities to tell me earlier.”

  “I assume this is true, but he was on a mission to protect someone he loves. I can understand that. I would do anything to protect you, my angel.”

  How well Kerry knew that. She also knew Millie meant serious business when she joined her on the sofa. “Kerry Ann, I sense that you have feelings for this man, despite what he’s done to you. Did he express any true remorse?”

  “He tried. He said he was sorry he hurt me. He said he cared about me.” That he wanted her. That she was an incredible woman. “He also said he had only one excuse for his behavior, desperation.”

  “And he saw you as his only hope to help his uncle. Perhaps you are still his only hope.”

  Kerry’s mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying perhaps you should put your anger aside and help him. The good you do for another will come back to you tenfold in blessings.”

  “I don’t know what I could do to help him. I told the police everything I know about the circumstances leading to the murder.”

  “I’m not referring to the murder. Your young man could use a friend, a ‘leaning shoulder,’ so to speak. You can offer your support and friendship if you cannot offer anything else. One never knows what might result from an act of kindness, and the true power of forgiveness.”

  Kerry mulled that over for a few moments while Millie continued to scrutinize her. Could she go back to Ford Ashton and forgive him? Could she simply be there for him as a friend, knowing that in a secret place in her soul, she wanted more? And would she be trading her heart in exchange?

  She was a scrapper. She’d survived the streets. She’s survived Spencer. She could take on Ford Ashton without losing herself totally to a man who had nothing to offer. Or could she?

  “Okay, Millie, I’ll think about what you’ve said. And tomorrow I’ll decide if I can be his friend. But only his friend.”

  Millie’s eyes held a world of wisdom. “Yes, my angel, you can be his friend. You might even be his savior.”

  Ford had spent most of Sunday dragging around from lack of sleep, scraping his mind for what to do next and missing a woman he had no business missing.

  After returning a call from Caroline, who’d informed him he had an appointment with the attorney in the morning, he’d taken a shower and decided to settle in for the evening on the sofa, not bothering to put on any clothes. He considered watching baseball, but that didn’t seem all that interesting. The selection of movies on pay-per-view didn’t, either. He sure as hell didn’t dare tune in to the adult offerings, considering what had transpired with Kerry last night. Their confrontation had effectively shut off his libido, but that had been only temporary. In fact, unanswered need had kept him up most of the night. So had self-hatred over what he’d done to her, especially now that he knew the horror of her past. But he still wanted her, more than he could express. Truth was, he couldn’t have her. Not now. Not ever.

  When a series of knocks sounded at the door, Ford pushed off the sofa and grabbed his jeans from the nearby chair, hopping on one foot to shrug them on while calling, “Just a minute.”

  He didn’t have a clue who would be visiting him so late in the evening, but he hoped it wasn’t any of the Ashton clan. He was shirtless, unshaven, sleep-deprived and sexually keyed up. Not a good combination to greet his newly discovered family members.

  Ford opened the door to discover the subject of his daydreams standing on the other side of threshold, her hair curling slightly over her breasts encased in a form-fitting, off-the-shoulder green top, her long legs exposed by a matching skirt that hit her mid thigh. He was so damned shocked to see her that he almost closed the door then opened it again, just to make sure his imagination hadn’t distorted his vision.

  She hugged her arms to her middle. “May I come in?”

  Like she really had to ask. “Sure.” Ford stepped aside, and she breezed by him. She smelled great, his first thought. She looked even better, his second.

  After he closed the door behind him, Ford turned to see her standing in the middle of the sitting area, her purse clutched to her chest. He couldn’t quite read her expression, or even guess why she was there. Probably to give him a good tongue lashing, and not the preferred kind.

  “Nice suite,” she said after surveying the room. “A good view of the city.”

  The best view was standing right in front of him. “Why are you here, Kerry?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” she began. “And I’ve decided to help you.”

  Ford hadn’t expected that for a minute. But then, she hadn’t met his expectations on several levels. She wasn’t mistress material. She wasn’t a murderer. She was kind and unselfish and forgiving, everything a man could ask for in a woman. Yet he knew that anything beyond a continuing friendship with her would never happen now, and he deserved that. He didn’t deserve her compassion, but here she was offering it in spite of his lies.

  “Let’s sit down,” she said, and took the lone chair, leaving the sofa as Ford’s only option.

  He dropped down onto the cushions, fighting the urge to climb across the coffee table now separating them and kiss her. “How are you going to help me?”

  “I’ve decided I’m going to be
your friend, because you’re probably going to need one until you get this thing with your uncle settled, one way or the other.”

  He needed her in ways he hadn’t imagined, and it didn’t have only to do with sex. “What made you change your mind?”

  She moved slightly and looked away. “Because I know what it’s like to be up against insurmountable odds and not have anyone to rely on.”

  In other words, odds were he probably wouldn’t find the evidence needed to clear Grant. Nor would he ever be able to hold her again. To kiss her again, although God knew he wanted that. “I appreciate your offer.”

  She turned her gaze on him. “You sound disappointed.”

  He was disappointed, but not in the way that she thought. “No, I’m grateful. I’m just beat.” But not tired enough to consider taking up where they left off last night.

  Kerry quickly came to her feet. “Then I’ll let you go to bed.”

  Going to bed didn’t interest him, unless she went with him. “I probably couldn’t sleep anyway. Please sit back down.”

  “I have to be at work in the morning.”

  He stood. “It’s still early.” He sounded almost desperate to keep her there. Maybe he was. “You don’t have to stay that long.”

  “Okay. For a while.” She dropped her purse at her feet and reclaimed her seat in the chair as Ford collapsed back on the couch.

  She studied him a long moment with concern. “Have you had anything decent to eat today?”

  Come to think of it, he hadn’t, not anything of real substance. Just a few minibar pretzels to go with the shot of whiskey he’d had earlier that afternoon. “Not really.”

  She leaned forward, grabbed up the room service menu from the coffee table and pored over it. “They have a good selection of beef. I hear the prime rib is good.”

  “Do you want anything?”

  She kept flipping through the menu before wetting her lips, drawing Ford’s undivided attention. “I’ve already had dinner, but I wouldn’t mind some dessert. Maybe a chocolate sundae.”

  What Ford wanted for dessert had nothing to do with ice cream. “Not a problem.” Taking a chance, he stood and crossed the room to stand behind the sofa, peering over her shoulder, all too aware that the need to touch her was stronger than his need for food. “Turn back to the entrées.”

  She looked up at him as if she had no idea what an entrée was. When she didn’t respond, Ford leaned down and flipped through the menu, their arms brushing. Even the limited contact did things to Ford that he needed to avoid for the sake of his sanity. He stopped at the all-day dining section and pointed. “I’m going to have the roast beef sandwich.”

  “Is that enough for you?”

  Just having her there would be enough. For now. “Yeah.”

  “Fine.” She slapped the menu closed and handed it to him. “I’d like a slice of cheesecake, strawberry topping. And some coffee.”

  “Great. I’ll call it in.”

  Ford walked to the desk, tossed down the menu and dialed room service without looking back at her. If he contacted those violet eyes, he wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence. He couldn’t quite explain why she continued to affect him so strongly. Again, he could continue to chalk it up to lust, or admit to himself it went deeper than that. He could handle simple desire. Deeper he couldn’t deal with. But he’d have to deal with it or lose his connection with her. He didn’t want to face that again, at least until the time came for him to go back home.

  After he placed the order, Ford turned to find Kerry had taken a seat on one end of the sofa. Progress, he thought, but decided it best not to act on any of his considerations of what he’d like to do to her. Otherwise he’d be pushing his luck and, in turn, pushing her right out the door. He strode to the sofa and immediately noticed she was sizing him up—and down. And up again. When he sat, leaving only a small space between them, she smiled. He’d give up food for days just to see that smile, that single dimple creasing the corner of her mouth. A really great spot to kiss.

  “What?” he asked when she continued to grin.

  “I just noticed you do have a tan all over. Or at least on your chest.”

  “You didn’t notice that last night?”

  “It was dark last night, and you didn’t take your shirt off completely.”

  Thinking back on the events of last night had big trouble threatening below his belt. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom. “Maybe I should put one on now.”

  “Don’t do that on my account. You might as well be comfortable.”

  He wouldn’t be at all comfortable in her presence, considering how badly he wanted to touch her again and knowing that wasn’t possible. “As long as it doesn’t bother you.”

  “It doesn’t. But I am curious about your tan. Maybe you are actually a surfer.”

  “I told you last night I’ve never surfed.” One of the few truths he’d told her. “I sometimes ride the tractor without my shirt. My sister gives me hell about it even though I’ve told her it’s cooler. She claims that wearing a shirt keeps the heat away.” And little did Abby know, he’d spent more than a few afternoon breaks lying on the lounge chair poolside at his house, buck naked.

  “You know, your sister is right,” Kerry said after a thoughtful pause.

  “If you ask her, she’ll tell you she’s always right. Stubborn woman.”

  “Do you have any other siblings?”

  “Just Abby. We’re a little less than two years apart.”

  “I take it you’re close.”

  “Yeah, we’ve always been close.” Bound together by their mother’s abandonment and the mystery of their biological fathers. “Lately she’s been pretty preoccupied with her new husband. She’s also pregnant with twins.”

  “Twins? Wow. Do they run in your family?”

  “My mother was Grant’s twin.” Grace, the evil twin.

  Kerry ran her slender fingertips along the back of the sofa, causing Ford to have an immediate reaction down south. “I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. I missed that growing up.” Her wistful tone said she’d missed a lot of things and had faced more than her share of heartache.

  “I have to admit, even though Abby’s a pain in the butt sometimes, I wouldn’t trade her.”

  She slid off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her. “What kind of parent was Grant?”

  “He was tough but fair. He kept us in line. He also gave up a lot to raise us. Marriage and kids of his own.”

  “He was never seriously involved with a woman?”

  “Not that we were aware of, although I’m sure he wasn’t celibate all those years. Not many women to choose from in Crawley, but he did go out of town every now and then, leaving Buck in charge.”

  Kerry frowned. “Who’s Buck?”

  “He’s our ranch foreman. Been there as long as I can remember. He started working for my great-grandparents as a teenager. He’s as good as gold. Not exactly a pushover, but he let me and Abby get away with more than Grant ever did. Especially Abby. God, he loves her.” Ford smiled with remembrance of Abby climbing into Buck’s lap for a tall tale, and eventually teaching him to read. “In Buck’s eyes, she can do no wrong. In fact, he’s the reason she became a veterinarian. He basically taught her everything she knows about treating cattle and horses.”

  “Is he married?”

  “Nope.”

  “You were brought up by a couple of confirmed bachelors who had to go out of town to find their women.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “Does all of that apply to you? I mean, did you go out of town to find women?”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to get into that at the moment. “I’m not celibate, either, if that’s what you’re asking. But I haven’t had many long-term relationships. Most women don’t consider living on a farm in the middle of nowhere a great lifestyle.”

  “I think it sounds intriguing,” she said. “What’s it like?”


  Ford told Kerry about the hard work, hard living but most important, the rewards of owning and cultivating the land. She listened with sincere interest when he revealed he’d developed his own special feed and leased the patents globally, laughed when he told her about his and Abby’s antics, and remained silent as he talked about his uncle’s commitment to them.

  “I’m glad you had Grant,” she said after a long bout of silence. “It’s hard having to deal with a mother’s death.”

  Ford braced for the last of the revelations. “My mother isn’t dead. She left me and Abby when we were in grade school. We haven’t heard from her since. All I know is that she ran off with some kind of salesman.”

  “Is your father dead?”

  He tipped his head back against the sofa and studied the ceiling. “I have no idea who he is. As far as I’m concerned, Grant is my dad.”

  When he felt the gentle touch on his shoulder, Ford turned his head to see compassion reflecting in her eyes. “I’m really sorry, Ford. Sounds like you’ve had it about as tough as I have.”

  “Not really,” he said, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. “I’ve always had a place to come home to.”

  Taking him by surprise, she scooted closer and took his hand. “That doesn’t discount what your mother did to you. It hurts like hell, knowing a parent has such little regard for their child. In your case, children.”

  He laced his fingers with hers and gave her hand a squeeze. “Yeah, well I guess some people just aren’t meant to be parents.”

  Their eyes met and held for a long moment, suspending Ford between a strong yearning to kiss her and blaring caution buzzing around in his head. Yearning was beginning to win out until another knock sounded at the door, sending Ford off the sofa to answer the summons.

  A lanky waiter rolled in a cart containing their limited dinner, and Ford instructed him to put the food on the coffee table. The guy looked at Ford like he was some hayseed, which in many ways he was. But when he tipped him well, the man’s attitude changed immediately. He couldn’t be more accommodating, groveling all the way out of the room.

  After he returned to Kerry, Ford ate his sandwich in record time, realizing he was hungrier than he’d thought. Obviously, she had restored his appetite, in more ways than one. He pushed aside the plate and leaned back, hands laced behind his neck, to watch Kerry nibble at her cheesecake.