“Why did you feel the need to belong that badly?”
“I grew up without a father. My mother worked two jobs to make ends meet. I spent a lot of time alone.”
“What happened to your dad?”
He certainly hadn’t intended on getting into all this now. “I never knew him. He took off the minute he found out my mother was pregnant.”
“Wow, none of that was in the Young Bostonian article about you.”
“I don’t tell many people about it.”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How did you get from there to where you are today?” She studied him intently, her gaze heating up his skin as he fumbled with the shirt buttons.
“After this-” he swept a hand at his scar “-my mother knew she had to get me out of that neighborhood or I was going to end up dead.”
“How did she get you out of that environment?”
“She took a job as a cook’s helper at a private school in upstate New York. Even though it paid a lot less than her two jobs in Boston, we were allowed to live in a two-room apartment on the school grounds and I received free tuition. If it weren’t for the sacrifices she made, I wouldn’t be here today.”
That might sound overly dramatic, but it was the honest truth. He would have been killed or in prison, of that he had little doubt.
“How come you don’t have the tattoo removed?”
“I keep it as a reminder of where I’ve been, of what I’ve escaped. I’m not proud of it, but it’s important not to forget my past.”
“Oh,” she said as if she understood, but he knew she had no concept of what his life had been like. How could she from her ivory tower?
Looking at the regal tilt of her head, he felt like that fatherless fourteen-year-old boy again who’d grown up in the South Boston housing project. Unsure of himself and desperately longing for success, but terrified he’d never fit in with Katie’s kind, no matter how hard he tried. He’d come a long way, but there were some barriers that could never be breached.
Who was he to think he could ever possess a woman like her? He could amass all the money in the world and never be in her league. To believe otherwise was folly. His tattoo was proof of that. You couldn’t change your DNA.
But part of his DNA was as blue-blooded as her own.
The part he hated.
Liam stepped back, hoping if he put some distance between them he could think more clearly, but he could not.
Katie met his gaze with a knowing smile. He had the frantic notion she could see right through him like an X-ray.
Afraid of his vulnerability, Liam cleared his throat. “We better leave if we don’t want to be late for the mayor’s party.”
Delancy lived in one of the largest mansions on Beacon Hill. A valet hired for the evening parked his car. Liam took Katie’s hand and guided her up the cobblestone walkway.
He noticed the carved lintels and decorative ironwork. Delancy was living here while he and his mother had been crammed into a six-hundred-square-foot apartment on the wrong side of the tracks and then later in an equally small garage apartment behind the dean’s house at Fernwood Academy for Boys.
The old rage caught fire inside him.
Katie must have picked up on his mood because she stopped on the front doorstep and looked at him. “Liam, is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“You seem tense.”
“A bit nervous, I guess.”
“You?” She sounded surprised.
“I’ve never met the mayor before.” At least not officially. Not outside of a pirate’s costume.
“Don’t be so impressed with Finn Delancy. My family’s known his for years. People on Beacon Hill are like people anywhere else and most of them have a skeleton or two in their closet. Blue blood or not, you’re twice the man Finn Delancy will ever be. Relax. You’ll do fine.”
Her words washed away his anger. She squeezed his hand, strengthening his courage and then reached out to rap the door with the heavy brass knocker.
A reserved-looking young woman wearing a starched white apron answered their knock.
“Liam James and Katie Winfield,” Katie announced to the woman.
The mayor’s home was something straight out of a nineteenth-century novel. The foyer towered two stories above their heads and the walls were paneled in luxurious mahogany. The rugs were Persian, the artwork original masterpieces and the massive chandelier looked as if it had come straight from the home of a Venetian artisan glassblower.
While my mother and I were eating macaroni and cheese, Delancy was living in a palace.
The woman took Katie’s wrap and handbag and ushered them into the library where a group of Boston’s elite were gathered around the fireplace sipping cocktails. The room was stocked floor to ceiling with books and overstuffed chairs. Liam would have killed to have access to such a library when he was in school.
“Katie, darling,” a straw-thin, middle-aged woman with a face smoothed by plastic surgery crossed the room to greet them. Liam recognized her from photos he’d seen in the newspaper and on TV as Delancy’s wife, Sutton. “Don’t tell me you’ve landed our city’s most eligible multimillionaire bachelor.”
“No, no,” Katie said quickly. “Liam’s a client of Sharper Design.”
Her immediate denial that their relationship was anything more than business bothered him. Would it have been so terrible to let Sutton assume they were a couple?
Sutton linked her arm through Liam’s, tugging him away from Katie. “You must tell me all about yourself, dear boy. You might be Boston’s most eligible bachelor, but I’ve asked around and no one seems to know much about you other than the luscious fact that you’re fabulously wealthy. Who is your family?”
He had to be careful. Much as he wanted to blurt out the truth, this wasn’t the time or the place. He was here to get the lay of the land and to find out as much as he could about the enemy.
Finn Delancy broke away from his cronies at the fireplace and walked over to join Liam, Katie and Sutton in the middle of the room. He cradled a crystal tumbler of Scotch in his hand.
Liam didn’t miss the lecherous look Finn sent in Katie’s direction. He had to fight to suppress an overpowering urge to plant his fist in the older man’s kisser.
“How do you do, Mr. James? I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” Delancy stuck out his hand.
Liam gritted his teeth. It was all he could do to civilly shake the man’s hand. “No?”
Delancy looked confused by the questioning tone in Liam’s voice.
Liam said nothing, just stared Delancy in the eyes. The mayor was the first to look away, shifting his attention to his glass of Scotch. “Can I get you something to drink?” Delancy searched the room for the maid, snapped his fingers at her and said, “Alice, get Mr. James a…”
“Whiskey,” Liam said. He wasn’t much for hard liquor, but this evening was shaping up to be a whiskey kind of night. “Neat.”
Delancy reached up and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Come on over and let me introduce you to everyone.”
He flinched at the intimate contact, turned his head to look for Katie and found her right beside him. If not for her, he would feel like a hapless sheep among a pack of wolves. He might know how to make money and flip real estate, but he didn’t have a clue how to walk the delicate tightrope of high-society politics.
Everyone at the party knew Katie and while Liam had met a few of the people in the room at various functions, he knew none of them personally. He chatted with State Senator Gerard Clarkson and his wife, Nancy, along with two CEOs of Boston’s largest corporations, a retired PGA superstar and their dates.
Alice brought Liam his whiskey and he took a bracing swallow. Katie was charming the crowd, regaling them with stories of her family, taking the pressure off him. He ended up in one corner, shoulder propped against the wall, watching her dazzle the guests. She would make someone a wonderful wife someday.