The Place I Belong (23 page)

That glinting smile with its false hint of self-deprecation had once charmed her right into his bed. “If I give you a glass of water, will you leave?”

That wiped the smile away. “We need to talk,” he said, all the previous coaxing absent from his voice.

“Then talk.”

“Let’s sit down like civilized human beings.”

“Is that how you see yourself? Because I disagree.” When Ward had dumped her, she’d been too devastated to fight back. Now her stoked anger burst into a roaring bonfire, and it felt good to blast him with it.

He turned on his heel and stomped into the living room, yanking a dog blanket off an armchair and seating himself. Clearly, he wasn’t leaving until he’d had his say, so she and the dogs followed him in. The dogs stayed by her side as though they had picked up on her antagonism toward her ex.

She dropped down onto the couch and crossed her arms again, her gaze on his face.

He hated silence. When they lived together, either the television or radio was always on and tuned to news. He claimed it was important for his job as Robert Sawyer’s right-hand man.

Ward adjusted his cufflinks and crossed his legs. “What are you trying to prove, Hannah?”

Thrown off balance by the unexpected question, she had no cutting comeback. “What are you talking about?”

“My sources say someone is asking questions about the incident with Senator Sawyer’s dog.”

She thought of the letter she’d received and stuffed in the drawer. “Your sources are crazy. I’ve moved on.”

“Somebody hasn’t. Maybe your boss?” Ward made it a question and a challenge.

“Tim’s been out of the country for two weeks. I don’t think he was doing long distance espionage.” Paul Taggart had brought up the possibility of clearing her name, but she’d turned him down and she couldn’t picture him going forward without her permission.

Could it be Adam? He’d been furious after she had blurted out the reason for her distress over Mrs. Shanks’ accusations. He might have decided to fix things for her because he felt an obligation to her for helping him with Matt and Satchmo.

“Who is it then?” Ward must have caught some hint of her thoughts in her expression.

“I have no idea. Your buddies are just paranoid.”

“Look,” he said, smoothing his trousers over his thighs, “I know I caused you pain, and I’m sorry. It hurt me as well when our relationship ended.”

“Ended?” Furious disbelief crashed through her. “You make it sound like it just petered out. You dropped me like a hot potato as soon as Sophie’s death got into the newspaper.”

He winced. “It was just damage containment. I needed to sepa
rate your name from the senator’s. My heart was breaking, though.”

She tucked her hands under her thighs, so she didn’t launch herself across the room and strangle him. “I hope you don’t think I’m stupid enough to believe that.”

“I’m hoping you’ll remember the great times we had together, and call off whoever’s stirring the pot in Chicago.” More clichés, stacked on top of each other. He must be desperate.

“What exactly do your sources say is going on?” Maybe some details would give her a clue as to who was behind this, unless Ward’s cronies were riled up over nothing.

His lips thinned. “I’m not at liberty to share that.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, can’t you talk like a normal person instead of a walking sound bite? If you tell me more, maybe I can figure out who’s involved.”

“Someone’s been exploring the possibility of filing a lawsuit for slander,” he said, his voice tight with reluctance.

That sounded like a lawyer—which meant Paul—but she j
ust wasn’
t seeing him as the force behind the pot-stirring. She shook her head.

“What is it? Do you have an idea?” Ward asked.

“I’m still baffled,” she said with total honesty, as she leaned forward to pet Annabelle, who lay at her feet. She wanted Ward to leave, so she raised her gaze to his and put every ounce of sincerity she could into her voice. “I promise you I’m not involved in whatever is going on in Chicago. And I’m pretty sure no one can file any suits without my cooperation. Are you satisfied?”

“What if someone came to you and said they had enough evidence to file a suit? What would you do?”

She sat back. She’d made the decision to turn and run months ago. “Nothing. The damage has all been done, and I’ve come out the other side.”

His gaze bored into her for a long moment before his face softened. “I wouldn’t believe anyone else, but, well, I always said you were too good for me.”

He was convincing, and she had to fight the compulsion to believe he meant it. She leapt to her feet. “On that note, why don’t you head back to Chicago?”

“I was hoping to take you out to dinner,” he said, rising
more slow
ly.

“I have plans for the evening already. Besides, The Aerie is closed on Mondays.”

“The Aerie? I was going to take you to the Laurels,” he said, giving her a sharp look. “That’s where I’m staying.”

“Oh, I just assumed you’d want to go to the most expensive restaurant in the area.” She was so wrapped up in Adam that she hadn’t considered the possibility of any other restaurant.

Her slightly insulting explanation seemed to ring true with Ward because he dropped the subject. He crossed the space between them and reached for her hands. Short of whipping them behind her back, she couldn’t avoid his touch. As his fingers folded around hers, she braced herself for a surge of physical memory. His grip was warm and firm, as befit a politician’s, but it didn’t send any sparks zinging through her. She let out her breath in a sigh of relief. She’d been blindsided by his arrival; now that her brain had caught up, she was free of him.

“I’d like to put the past behind us and become friends. You are a special person, and I want to keep you in my life.” His pale-blue eyes held a fine sheen, as though he might be tearing up.

She remembered the horrible scene when he’d read the first media report, where they’d interviewed her about her decision to euthanize Sophie. He had hurled the newspaper across the room and rounded on her with a face contorted by fury. “How could you do this?” he’d shouted, the tendons in his neck standing out. “Don’t you care about my career?”

She’d been afraid he was going to hit her and had put a couch between them. Instead, he’d taken her apart verbally and left the pieces strewn all over the floor before he ground them into the carpet with his heel.

The next day he’d sent her a giant bouquet of flowers, taken her out to dinner, and apologized. His regrets had been barbed, though, filled with subtle putdowns about how unskilled she was as a political fiancée. After that she’d felt as though she was walking on eggshells, watching every word she said in public.

Maybe he had done her a favor in breaking their engagement.

She tugged her hands out of his and shook her head. “We live in very different places.”

His jaw tightened, but his voice remained persuasive. “May I call you every now and then?”

She couldn’t imagine what they’d have to talk about. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

His nostrils flared and a flush climbed his neck. “If you won’t be friends, then I’ll have to consider you an enemy.” He brought his face closer to hers. “And you don’t want to be my enemy.”

“Are you threatening me?” She couldn’t believe it. Why was he worried about her, hiding down here in the mountains of West Virginia?

He took a step back, a nasty smile thinning his lips once again. “Of course not. I have no reason to, do I?”

His B-movie dialogue was as absurd as his idea that she was out to get him, and it sent a nervous laugh up her throat. She covered her mouth and turned it into a cough.

After watching her with narrowed eyes for several seconds, he asked, “Do you need a glass of water?”

She shook her head.

“Then I’ll say good-bye,” he said.

She took a deep breath and conjured up an image of Satchmo lying on the straw of his stall as he slipped toward the edge of death. That killed the last of her desire to giggle.

“Good-bye, Ward,” she said. As a peace offering, she stood on her toes and kissed the air beside his cheek, catching a whiff of his cloying cologne.

He lifted a hand as though to stroke her hair and then dropped it. “I wish I could turn back the clock.” He turned and walked to the door, hesitating a split second before he twisted the knob to open it. He paused there again.

Did he expect her to run after him and say she wanted to be friends after all?

Courtesy urged her to wish him a safe flight, a good sleep, something to bridge the charged silence. She pressed her lips together and waited until he stepped outside and closed the door. As soon as the latch clicked, she flew to the door and threw the deadbolt.

She hoped he heard it snick into place.

Chapter 19

H
EFTING THE LOADED
cooler, Adam rang Hannah’s doorbell and waited, the frozen clouds of his breath glowing amber under the porch light. The temperature had taken a sudden plunge downward, and there was snow in the next few days’ forecast. That always complicated the restaurant’s food deliveries because everything came in fresh.

A spate of barking acknowledged his presence before he heard Hannah’s voice issue a firm but unintelligible command. The dogs fell silent. He dropped his business worries and smiled at her relationship with her dogs. She loved them, but she’d taught them good manners. She’d make a great mother.

The thought killed his smile as it pulled him back to his dilemma with Matt, one he had yet to resolve. He wished he could discuss it with Hannah, but he didn’t want her to know what a coward he was. He wasn’t ready to have her turn away from him in disgust.

The door swung open to reveal her surrounded by furry
creatures
, her pale hair floating around her head like skeins of golden thread. There was welcome in her face, but a subtle unhappiness threw a shadow over it.

Her gaze settled on the cooler. “That’s a lot of caviar.”

“There are a few other ingredients.” He stepped in the foyer and set the cooler down, so he could wrap his hands around her slim shoulders and watch her expression. “Is something wrong?”

She slipped her hands around his neck and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss on his lips. The pressure of her breasts on his chest and the brush of her thighs against his sent a bolt of heat straight to his cock. He tightened his hold on her as he deepened the kiss. She shuddered and melted into him, freeing him to send his hands roving down to the delicious curves of her bottom. When he flexed his fingers, she moaned.

Images of stripping off her jeans and panties and sinking himself inside her flashed through his mind, but he banished them as he eased his grip. He needed to chase the sadness from her eyes before he could make love to her without guilt.

Lifting his head, he shifted his grip to her hands. “Come sit with me,” he said, turning her toward the sofa.

“What about dinner?” she said, glancing at the cooler, which was the object of her dogs’ rapt attention.

Adam twined his fingers into hers. “I’d rather hear about what’s got you upset.”

“I’m not upset. Just…confused.”

“Tell me.” He guided her down onto the cushions, seating himself beside her.

“I had a visitor from Chicago today,” she said, twisting her hands together in her lap.

“An unwelcome one?”

“Very.”

He waited. He felt her suck in a breath and let it out.

“My ex-fiancé,” she said. “Ward Miller. Have you heard of him?”

Her question sounded casual but he sensed a purpose in it, so he thought carefully. “Maybe. A rising politician?”

“That’s the one.” She lifted her eyes. “Do you know anything else about him?”

She seemed to think he should, but he shook his head. “I don’t follow politics all that closely. It makes it easier to be cordial to my guests at the restaurant.”

She gave him a slight smile but her gaze remained serious. “He says someone’s raising questions about the incident that made me leave Chicago. And he’s not happy about it.”

“Was he involved?” This was news to Adam.

“He’s Senator Sawyer’s protégé and former campaign manager, so he’s very involved.”

The pieces fell together in his mind. He’d known there was more to her story than unfavorable press over euthanizing a sick, elderly dog. “Is that why you left?”

“He told me I wasn’t cut out to be a politician’s wife.”

Anger flared as he considered how her ex-fiancé had deserted her when she most needed him. He unclenched a fist to brush a finger along her cheek. “I’d take that as a compliment.”

“It knocked my world sideways.”

He wrapped his arm around her and brought her against his side. “You’ve righted your world.”

“Seeing him again gave it a whack, though. It’s amazing how strong old feelings can be.”

So she wanted to use him to wipe away those old feelings. He could live with that. “Do you regret what you did back then?”

She stiffened, as he had expected her to. “For Sophie? Not a bit. All I regret is that I didn’t manage to persuade Mrs. Sawyer to put her to sleep before they left on vacation.”

“Did you ask Ward for help contacting Sawyer? He must have had the senator’s cell number.”

A moment of silence. “No. We’d had a fight about the fact that Mrs. Sawyer wouldn’t agree to euthanize Sophie. He said I wasn’t considering the children’s feelings. I asked him why they were more important than the dog’s suffering. It was ugly.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her, waiting for the rest of her guilt to spill out.

“I didn’t want him to tell me I couldn’t put Sophie to sleep until the Sawyers got back from vacation. So I didn’t call him, although I knew he could contact the senator. I went through the regular channels,” she said with a bitter edge to her voice. “Except Sawyer had blocked those.”

His anger swelled again. He reined it in so as to not crush her with his grip. “Would Ward have given you Sawyer’s cell phone number?”

“I’ve asked myself that a thousand times,” she said. “I didn’t give him the chance.”

“Because you knew the answer,” he said. “He would have told you not to bother the Sawyers, to keep Sophie alive.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“He let go of something far more important in his life in order to protect Sawyer. You.”

She stirred and pushed away from him, rising to pace over to the dead fireplace. When she turned back to him, there were tear-streaks on her face, but she looked relieved. “I needed you to say it for me to believe it.”

He wanted to pummel her ex with a stainless-steel ladle. No, with his bare fists. More satisfying that way. “He doesn’t understand what you did for him. You knew you had to release Sophie from her suffering and you did it alone, for his sake.”

“No one else understood that.” She waved her hand in a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry. You always seem to get the worst
of me
.”

“No, the best,” he said. “The real honesty of you.” It was his fault Ward had intruded on her in Sanctuary, and Adam decided he needed to own up. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“You?”

“I brought Ward down on you.” He forced himself to continue. “After you told me the story of Sophie, I went to see Paul Taggart. I persuaded him to look into the situation with an eye to clearing your name.”

She looked flabbergasted. “You went to Paul? But I already told him not to bother about it.”

“I know. He put up a good fight, but—”

“But he wanted to do it as much as you did,” Hannah said, shaking her head.

“It’s none of our business, but we were both pissed off on your behalf.”

She gave him a strange, unreadable look.

“Go ahead and tell me to butt out,” he said.

“Would you?”

He nodded. “I’ve done enough damage.”

“I’m not used to this,” she said, her voice tight.

“To people sticking their noses in your business?”

“To people caring enough to take up the fight when I’ve given up.” She came back to the sofa and sat down beside him, putting her hand on his where they were clenched together between
his knee
s.

Her generosity astounded him. He’d be furious if someone had stirred up his past without his permission.

“I’m glad Ward came down here,” she said. “It clarified something for me.”

He turned his hands up to envelope her small one. “I’ll tell Paul to call off the dogs.”

“I’m not sure I want you to,” she said, using her free hand to trace over his knuckles. “Two very smart men think I should clear my name.” She looked up at him with a slight smile. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I owe it to Tim.”

“Tim doesn’t—”

She held up her hand to stop him. “Ward and the scandal over Sophie were so tangled up in my mind that I left Chicago not knowing which I was running from.”

“Ward,” he guessed.

“And now I’ve faced him.” She wrapped her hand around his. “So let Paul work his magic.”

The tension in her shoulders and her convulsive hold on his hands told him this wasn’t an easy decision for her. “Don’t do this for anyone but yourself.”

She looked him in the eye. “That’s exactly who I’m doing
it fo
r.”