Jo Leigh - One-Click Buy - September Harlequin Blaze

“How long have you kept this-” she waved a hand “-complicated thing bottled up?”

“All my life,” he said, and then immediately regretted it.

“You’ve got a dark secret.”

“Not really. Just something I’m not particularly proud of.”

“You might feel better if you got it off your chest,” she ventured.

“I seriously doubt it.”

“The thing about secrets is,” she went on, ignoring his denial that he had a secret, “once you tell someone about them, they no longer hold any power over your life.”

“I don’t have any secrets. In fact,” he said, “I hate secrets and dishonest people.”

“So is Delancy the dishonest person with the secret?” she guessed. “Do you have something on him?”

“Sort of.”

“And you don’t approve of him.”

“I hate him.”

“If you dislike the man so much, how come you accepted his dinner invitation? How come you agreed to introduce him at the Habitat for Humanity event?”

“Can we not talk about Delancy?”

“Okay.” She surprised him by suddenly letting go of the conversation.

Silence fell. All they could hear were engine sounds and road noises.

From the time his mother had told him his father’s identity when he was sixteen, Liam had plotted and schemed and planned for his success. He’d studied hard in school, played every sport Fernwood Academy offered and did lots of volunteer work. He got straight A’s and won a merit scholarship to Harvard. He cut clippings of his achievements and made scrapbooks. He’d graduated cum laude from Harvard Business School, all the while buying run-down houses in South Boston and restoring them for resale.

Because of his achievements, women were crazy for him. And other than his glorious mistake with Arianna, there hadn’t been room in his life for romance. He’d had a few girlfriends, yes. But somehow he’d managed to always keep things casual. It was easier that way. Nobody got hurt.

The truth was, he secretly longed for a family of his own while at the same time he feared it. What did he know about being a good father? He’d certainly had no role models. And what if he couldn’t stop his workaholic pace? His work had always defined him. If he wasn’t driven to succeed, then who was he?

And Liam had been keeping his relationships superficial for so long, he realized he didn’t know how to take things deeper with a woman. He didn’t know how to let go of his work and enjoy his life, mainly, because real estate was his life.

Liam watched her downshift around a corner. She almost ran a red light, the yellow slipping to crimson just as she made it through the intersection.

“Yellow means slow down, not go faster,” he said.

“Not in a Lamborghini it doesn’t.” She grinned wickedly.

His heart chugged. “You’re one sexy woman, Katie Winfield.”

“Oh, don’t start. You’re drunk and I’m pissed off at you for not trusting me with your dark secret.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He reached over to lightly finger a strand of hair curling at her shoulder. “And you’re not that pissed off.”

“I am,” she asserted.

“What will it take to get you unpissed?”

“Tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours. What’s your beef with Finn Delancy?”

Liam cocked his head and studied her for a long moment. Confess. Maybe this was what he needed to do in order to take things to a new level with her. “You really want to hear the whole sordid story?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Promise you won’t pity me?”

“I promise.”

He took a deep breath. “Pull over.”

“I’m not letting you behind the wheel.”

“I don’t want to drive, just find a place to pull over. I need to get out and walk.”

“Are you sick?”

“I’m not sick. I just…I’ve never told this story to anyone and I need to get out of the car, clear my head, make sure I want to do this.”

She obeyed his command, slowing down, driving through a residential neighborhood until she found a community park. She pulled into the vacant lot near some swings and parked beneath a maple tree near a streetlamp. She cut the engine and leaned back in the seat.

“Let’s walk,” he said.

They got out. The air was nippy, but not uncomfortably so. He headed for the jogging trail, Katie at his side. They walked for several minutes without speaking.

“I’m a bastard.” Liam found himself saying in a calm, unemotional voice.

Katie clicked her tongue in sympathy. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. So you had a little too much to drink and looked a bit sketchy in front of the mayor and his guests. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m a bastard. For real.” He laughed harshly. “Although some people might argue I’m the other kind of bastard, as well.”

“You’re saying your mother wasn’t married to your father when you were born?”

“That’s right.”

“Big deal.”

“Big deal?”

“I read something like thirty percent of children are born out of wedlock these days. No one cares.”

“Spoken like someone who grew up in a loving, nuclear family.”

“Hey, my life hasn’t been a bed of roses. My father was strict military and a prominent member of Boston society. You have no idea the expectations that entails. Plus, I’ve lost both my parents within the past five years. Everyone has their cross to bear, Liam.”

KATIE BURROWED deeper into her coat and scurried to keep up with his long-legged stride. Liam had increased the pace. In the distance a dog barked and a porch light went on. He was clearly ambivalent about this subject. “You don’t have to tell me any more about it, Liam. Forget it. I don’t want to be the cause of you having to have therapy.”

“No, no.” He stopped walking and made an about-face to stare at her. “I want to tell you.”

“So tell me. I’m listening.”

He heaved in a breath. “Okay, my mother came to Boston from Ireland when she was only seventeen. A friend got her a job working in a factory that made parts for sailing ships. The owner of the factory was a Beacon Hill Brahmin with eyes for my mother. She didn’t know he was married when they started dating. He wined her, dined her, treated her like royalty. Told her the kind of lies that make a young girl’s heart light up. Then when she found out she was pregnant with his child, he threw three hundred dollars at her and told her to get an abortion.”

“It must have been awful for your mom.”

Liam was breathing hard. He had his fists clenched. The muscles in his neck were bunched so tightly Katie could feel his anger. “Yeah.”

She touched his arm. “And for you, too.”

He didn’t say anything for so long that she finally prompted, “So what did your mother do after that?”

“There wasn’t anywhere she could stay. There was a home for unwed mothers in Boston, but you had to give your child up for adoption if you stayed there. She refused to give me up. I was all she had. She’d lost all her family in Ireland. That’s why she’d come to America.”

“How did she get through it?”

“She had two jobs, worked in a different factory at night, pressed clothes in a dry-cleaning shop by day. Hard, backbreaking work, but the owners of the dry cleaner’s allowed her to bring me to work with her after I was born. On weekends, she took classes and earned both her U.S. citizenship and her GED. She raised me all on her own without one penny of assistance from my so-called father.”

Katie’s heart hurt. For Liam, for his mother, for the struggles they must have endured. “I think I understand you,” she said.

He stared at her with his sharp, intelligent eyes. The look unsettled her. “Have I scared you off because I’m so damaged?”