Enveloped in their cocoon of precision machinery, she rushed him through time and space. Speed, wrapped inextricably with sexual need, gushed through his brain, his limbs and his entire body. She was fast and adventuresome and exciting. And he worshipped her in an orgy of pure velocity.
Liam was so busy filling up with testosterone that her next comment took him by surprise.
“You want to tell me what happened back there with the mayor?” Katie asked. “Or are you just going to let me believe you’re a total horse’s ass?”
“You picked up on that?”
Katie grinned. “Give me some credit, will you? A blind woman could have picked up on your animosity toward Delancy. Thing is, I get the distinct impression he has no idea that you hate him.”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“Don’t sound so amazed. Just because I like to keep to the lighter side of things doesn’t mean I’m clueless.”
“I never said you were clueless.”
“You thought it.”
“Never. Impetuous yes, clueless never,” he admitted.
“I also noticed that you didn’t answer my question,” she prodded.
“Which question was that?”
“Why do you hate Finn Delancy?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Guyspeak for you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah.”
“Why not?”
“Why not what?”
She cocked her head and gave him a piercing glance before returning her attention to the road. “Why don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Because it’s none of your business.”
“It might not be any of my business, but you certainly look like you need to talk about it.”
“I don’t need to talk about it.”
“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.”