The Last Marchetti Bachelor. Teresa Southwick
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she would never be enough to make them love her. But it hurt her a lot that Luke could believe for even a moment that she would make up a lie this hurtful to get even for something. His low opinion was like a physical blow, and she had no idea why it should matter so much to her.
She met his gaze squarely. “Taking it out on me won’t get you anywhere.” She reached into her suit jacket for the business card she’d put there. Leaning forward, she set it on his desk. “That’s the number for one of the firm’s associates. When you’re ready, give him a call, and he’ll advise you in this matter.”
“What about you?” he asked.
She shook her head slightly. “I’ll plead workload as an excuse to bow out. It’s the most discreet way to handle the situation. No one has to know about us.”
“What if I still want you?” His question was almost a growl, but the sensual undertone made her shiver.
She still wanted him.
She looked into his eyes, wondering if she was reading her own need and longing into his expression, his words, even though there was an edge to his voice that she’d never heard.
“The fact that you could even entertain the notion I’m lying indicates that you don’t have confidence in me. You can trust Nathan McDonald completely,” she said, lifting her chin to indicate the card she’d given him. Why had she thought he knew her at all? If he did, he wouldn’t have accused her of something so slimy. “Nathan is the firm’s expert in this sort of thing. I’ll fill him in on the pertinent information and let him familiarize himself with the contents of the will. I’ll let him know you’ll be in touch.”
Touch. The word evoked images of his hands gliding over her skin, raising tingles in their wake. Countless times since that magical night the memories had taunted her. Just one of her many punishments for breaking a cardinal rule. She blinked the seductive vision away.
“What makes you think I’ll call?” he asked.
“Because you’re not the kind of man who will let this slide. You’re going to want answers. And they’ll have to come from your mother. When you get them, you’ll call,” she finished, nodding confidently. She curled her fingers around the handles of her briefcase and started to stand.
“Ma is going to be pretty upset about these accusations—” He stopped when she gripped the arms of the chair and lowered herself into it again. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “A little dizzy. I forgot to eat lunch. Give me a minute, and I’ll leave you alone.”
He stood up. “You look white as a sheet. Are you sure you’re okay?” His brow furrowed with worry as he rounded his desk and stopped in front of her. “Maybe I should drive you somewhere,” he said, putting his warm palm to her forehead.
The touch felt wonderful. A glow started in her abdomen and quickly spread north and south. He was worried about her. No one worried about her. Her mother had made it clear she’d been an inconvenient accident. Her parents were always too much into their own lives and grooming her older brother to take over the family business to concern themselves with her. And if a problem arose, boarding school personnel did their job just enough to avoid liability.
But she knew Luke’s concern was offered instinctively—good news and bad. It meant that he was a kind and decent man.
But he was also a client, one who had avoided marriage for this long. That fact spoke volumes. It seemed clear to her that he didn’t want the responsibility of worrying about any woman on a permanent basis. And her parents hadn’t wanted her, why would anyone else? No, she didn’t want anything personal or permanent, either. There was too much potential for pain. Which was the main reason she’d shut the door on anything between them, after she’d given in to temptation and spent those hours in his arms. She had learned to count only on herself; she was committed to advancing her career.
Their one night of passion had destroyed the chance of any relationship between them, either friendship or business. When she’d brought him this unbelievable news, his first thought was that she’d lied. She understood that he was reeling from what she’d told him, but she couldn’t help being hurt that he could entertain the idea of her stooping so low, even for a moment.
What would he say if he knew there was more? Would he believe her? She didn’t have the words, the heart, the courage to tell him what she suspected. Not now. But she would tell him. When she had confirmation.
“Maddie?” he asked. “You zoned out. Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe I should take you home.”
“No, thanks.”
The last time he’d done that was what had gotten her into this conflict of interest in the first place. Now she was the least of his concerns. When he talked to his mother, and she knew he would, the facts would come out, because Flo Marchetti was an honest person, one of the finest women Madison had ever known. Studying the law had taught her that there were always mitigating circumstances. In spite of the way this looked, she hoped Luke would open his mind to those circumstances in order to find understanding and forgiveness.
He had a lot on his plate. It was best for both of them if they made a clean break from each other right now. He was going to have a lot to deal with. She wouldn’t add another problem to the pile.
She smiled. “I’m fine. Just low blood sugar. I carry protein bars in my purse for this very thing.” When the dizziness passed, she stood and backed away, putting a safe distance between them. “I’m sorry about all of this, Luke. You probably don’t believe that, but it’s the truth. If there’s anything—”
“There isn’t,” he said too quickly. “If you’re sure you’re all right, I’ll say goodbye, Maddie. I have work to do.”
She walked to the door and stopped. “While you’re working, do me a favor,” she said, with her hand on the knob.
“What’s that?”
“Remember that no one’s perfect. We all make mistakes.”
She stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh.
“Mistake is my middle name,” she said to herself.
“Ma, you’re not going to believe the whopper Maddie Wainright told me a little while ago,” Luke said.
He walked into his parents’ house, and the kitchen door wasn’t even closed before the words were out of his mouth.
Flo Marchetti grinned at him fondly. “You know, ever since you were a little boy, you’ve always blurted out whatever was on your mind.”
Luke studied her. With the newspaper spread out before her, she was sitting at the oak table set in the breakfast nook. It was as if he was seeing this kitchen and her for the first time. The ceramic tile countertops were the same. The tile floor hadn’t changed, and neither had the side-by-side refrigerator that always held enough food to feed an army. Which was almost what the five Marchetti kids were.
Rewind that last part. If Maddie was telling the truth, there were only four Marchetti kids and one… His gut clenched. The pain was right there, scratching at his consciousness. He refused to feel it. Surely there was a mistake. When he figured it all out, he could let the pain go without allowing it to touch him. He released a long breath as he looked at his mother.
In her late fifties, she was still an attractive woman. Gray hair, cut stylishly short, framed her relatively unlined face. She was wearing an olive-green, two-piece, knit lounging outfit. Granny glasses perched on the end of her nose for reading. Above the lenses, affection seemed to reach out to him from her warm-brown eyes just the way it always had. But everything felt different. He was looking at the world through different eyes. Why had he never questioned the fact that his were blue? Neither of his parents or any of his siblings had eyes that color. Had he suspected something and just ignored it?
There was still the possibility Maddie was trying to punish him, although he