Because You're Mine Page 11

  “Last night Barry admitted he’d thrown a cat to the gator. The gator nearly got me when I saved the animal.”

  Hattie blinked, then wet her lips and looked down at her hands.

  “You’re not surprised.” Alanna tried not to show her shock.

  “Barry has always been fascinated with the gators. From the time he was a child. Most often he fed them snakes and lizards. Sometimes rabbits when he could catch them.”

  Alanna fought her revulsion. “Why does he like the gators so much?”

  “Once he told me he admired the gator’s single-minded focus on its own needs.”

  “But Barry is so selfless! He’s helped me through so many problems in the months I’ve known him, and he’s never asked for anything in return.”

  When Hattie didn’t answer, Alanna shifted restlessly. Yes, Barry was focused, but that was a good thing. He’d always put her needs ahead of his own, so his obsession with such a savage animal unsettled her. “Do you think he’s thrown other cats to that gator?”

  Hattie leaned forward and straightened an already perfect pile of magazines. “I really couldn’t say.”

  Couldn’t or wouldn’t? “Did you see any evidence of cruelty when you were his nanny?”

  “I shouldn’t be discussing the family this way,” Hattie said with an edge of firmness that warned she wouldn’t endure any more pressure.

  Alanna recognized that she’d get no more information out of Hattie. Likely the older woman already regretted saying anything. Would Grady be willing to tell her more? She couldn’t say why it mattered so much to her. Maybe because such cruelty was so far outside her realm of thought. She’d thought she and Barry had the same values.

  Now she wondered how well she really knew her new husband. “I’ll be going now.” She rose to her feet. “Thank you for the basket. You are too kind.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Hattie followed Alanna to the door.

  Alanna stepped outside. The heat and humidity nearly took her breath away. As she walked toward the house, she felt the weight of Hattie’s gaze on her back. If she didn’t know better, she would be thinking she’d seen pity in the woman’s dark eyes.

  The scent of flowers reminded her of a wake as she trod the path home, though she didn’t know why the thought entered her head. Insects hummed at her ears, and she caught a whiff of decaying vegetation from the trees bordering the path. Something splashed in the lagoon, and she shuddered and averted her glance as she passed it. The alligator’s eyes sent shivers up her spine.

  When Alanna came around the end of the house, she spotted Barry getting out of his Mercedes. He hadn’t been gone long—why? He waved to her. There was a folder in his left hand. Grimness strained his mouth, and she wondered if he knew how his actions with the cat had disconcerted her. Her steps dragged as she approached him.

  “We’ve got trouble,” he said before she could say anything. He held up the folder. “Liam’s father has wasted no time. He is suing for custody of your child.”

  She clutched her stomach. “Barry, what shall we do? Surely he knows he has no power over me here?”

  “You’re not a citizen yet,” he reminded her. “I talked to my friend and he’s going to try to hurry along the paperwork. You’re to appear in Dublin in three weeks to answer the charges. I have another attorney working on delaying that order.”

  “What charges? I thought you said he wanted custody. Is there more?”

  Barry nodded, his mouth tightening. “Liam’s parents say you’re unfit to raise their grandchild because you’re a prostitute.”

  “What?” Alanna touched Barry’s arm to steady herself.

  Barry tapped the folder with his finger. “He says you worked in a strip club three years ago and includes a list of your clients, including current ones.”

  Did Barry believe it? “It’s a lie.” She dropped her hand from his arm and took a step back.

  “Did you work at the Blue Dipper?” he asked, his gaze hooded.

  She didn’t want to admit it. “I was a barmaid, but all I ever did for customers was serve them drinks. I quit when the owner tried to pressure me into performing other services.”

  She wanted to shudder at the memory of that time, but she kept her gaze on Barry, willing him to believe her. Their gazes locked and the doubt in his eyes stung. “I’m not like that, Barry. You should know better.”

  He dropped his gaze. “You’ve never let me in, Alanna. How am I supposed to know all about your past?”

  She nodded. “My past is not something I like to talk about.” How would he react to knowing she was a tinker’s daughter? So few people knew her background, and she preferred to keep it that way. Not even Thomas had ferreted it out yet. Barry’s bloodline was as blue as the ocean across the sea grass. She should have disclosed her past to him before he agreed to give her child his name, but she hadn’t deliberately attempted to keep him in the dark. Would he have married her if he knew about her past?

  He raised his gaze to study her face. Was he thinking she’d duped him?

  “Your word is enough,” he said, breaking a silence that was beginning to grow uncomfortable. He thrust the folder into her hand. “We won’t speak of it again. I’ll take care of this.”

  There was something in his eyes she couldn’t tear her gaze from. Was the darkness there a warning, or the passion she knew he felt for her?

  Fifteen

  Loneliness crept up on Alanna as she walked to the porch the next day. Barry had gone out to look at the summerhouse after announcing that his parents would arrive in the afternoon. She watched for Prince, but the dog stayed hidden. She couldn’t sit around doing nothing but counting the minutes until she had to face Barry’s parents.

  Pressing her lips together, she marched up the curving staircase to the second floor. There were too many doors to decide which to peek into. She chose the one just beyond her own room.

  The knob turned easily under her hand, and she stepped into a large bedroom. White dust covers draped the bed and other furniture. She walked toward the window and sneezed when dust flew from the floor. The rotted curtains felt greasy in her hand. She couldn’t ask one of her friends to stay in this room.

  But if she cleaned it up, got new linens and curtains, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. She went to the closet and opened it. Dresses from the twenties hung inside, and hatboxes were piled high on the shelf over the clothing. Old shoes lined the floor. This had been a woman’s room. Alanna would have to pack all this stuff and take it to the attic.

  Barry’s voice came from behind her. “What are you doing?”

  She turned with a smile. “Whose room was this, Barry? These things look like they’re from the twenties.”

  He joined her at the closet and shut the door. “This was my great-grandmother’s room. No one has occupied it in eighty years.”

  “It needs cleaning. I thought I’d look for new bedding and such. Ciara could stay here.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the door. “It’s going to take more than you realize. The mattress is likely full of bugs and mildew and will have to be replaced. The drawers in the dresser are warped. The whole thing needs to be gutted and redone.”

  “Are any other rooms better?”

  “Not really. By the time we could have rooms here ready, I’ll have the summerhouse finished. A couple of weeks, tops.”

  “They can’t be staying in the hotel that long. It’s much too dear.”

  “Then they can move into my condo. I’m going to call Ciara and tell her I’ll bring in the key.”

  It was good of him to take care of things. His dependability was one of the things she really liked about Barry. “Thank you. We’ll need a place to practice. Any ideas?”

  He frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that. The ballroom might not be a bad idea. I could get the boxes cleared away into the attic. Might take a couple of days.”

  “I could help.”

  “I wouldn’t turn down th
e company.”

  His arm was still around her shoulders. She could smell the spicy tang of his cologne and the clean scent of his shirt. She turned her head to look up at him. His gaze held hers, and she saw the longing there. That hint of darkness she’d seen yesterday was gone.

  He’d been so good to her. She leaned against him slightly, not fighting the warmth rushing through her limbs at his nearness.

  He turned her to face him, then caught a red curl and twisted it around his finger. “No one has hair like yours.” His voice was husky.

  They were standing toe to toe. Alanna knew she should step away, but the warmth in Barry’s eyes held her in place. She’d been so lonely without Liam. She missed being in his arms at night, missed the whispered confidences and the tender love-making. Barry wanted to fill that empty place in her life. Would it be so wrong to let him?

  His fingers touched her chin, and he lifted it, then bent his head. His lips claimed hers in a kiss that told her the physical attraction between them was very real. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, laying her hand against his chest where she felt the pounding of his heart under her palm.

  He muttered her name against her lips and drew her closer. For an instant, Alanna could imagine it was Liam who held her, who pressed his lips against hers so ardently. She forced herself to remember this was Barry, her new husband. A man who had every right to expect more from her than she was ready to give.

  She put her hands on his chest and pushed off gently. He let her go and a crooked smile creased his face. “I-I’m not ready, Barry.”

  “I’ll be here when you are,” he said in a quiet voice. A car door banged outside, and he glanced toward the window. “My parents.”

  Her gut clenched, and she caught her breath. The moment she’d been dreading was here. They were going to hate her, she just knew it. He took her hand and led her down the stairs. More doors banged, and she heard footsteps across the porch. A woman’s voice called out.

  When they reached the entry, the door opened, and a woman stepped in. A man followed her. Alanna’s gaze focused on Patricia Kavanagh. In her sixties, her blonde hair had even lighter highlights in the stylish layered bob. She wore a mint-green suit with heels that accented her slim legs.

  Patricia’s smile faltered when her blue eyes lit on Alanna. Her eyes went wide, and the color drained from her face. Alanna glanced at her husband uncertainly. Surely he’d told his parents about their marriage.

  Patricia Kavanagh’s gaze finally left Alanna. She glanced at her son with a question in her eyes, then stepped forward to brush her lips across Barry’s cheek. “I missed you, son. Two months is too long to be gone. We’re exhausted.” She stepped back and stared at Alanna again.

  Barry put his hand on Alanna’s shoulder. “This is Alanna, Mother. My wife.”

  The words fell with all the power of a cannonball into the room. Patricia took a step back and went white. She shook her head, then stared from Alanna to her son and back again. “You look just like her,” she muttered, her gaze focused on Alanna’s face. “Just like Deirdre.”

  “I noticed that.” Alanna sent an appealing gaze to her husband.

  Patricia’s lip curled. “You’re Irish? How could you, Barry? You know how I detest that slovenly race.”

  “Alanna and I were married two days ago,” he said. “I want you to welcome her into the family.” His voice was hard.

  Patricia blinked, then moved her gaze to her son. “You knew we’d be home today. How could you do this behind our backs after I asked you to postpone it?” Her stare at Alanna was fierce. “I suppose this was all your doing?” Her gaze went to Alanna’s bare feet, and her lip curled. Her mouth fell open when her stare lit on the gentle swell of Alanna’s tummy. “Are you pregnant?” she whispered.

  Alanna’s throat made an audible click when she swallowed. A simple yes would make it appear as though the child were Barry’s. She didn’t have enough moisture in her mouth to explain the circumstances. She and Barry hadn’t discussed just what to tell his parents.

  “Yes, she is.” Barry’s voice held a challenge.

  “It’s no more than I should expect.”

  Richard, Barry’s father, cleared his throat. “Welcome to the family, Alanna,” he said heartily. He brushed past his wife and took Alanna in his arms.

  She returned his hug, which felt genuine.

  “Don’t mind my wife’s reaction,” he whispered in her ear. “She’ll settle down.” He raised his voice to a hearty bellow. “I’m sorry if we seemed less than happy. We’re thrilled Barry has finally decided to settle down. Nothing could make us happier than to have a grandchild.”

  His warm words and embrace blew away a bit of the chill in Alanna’s soul, but she hated that her new in-laws obviously thought the child was Barry’s. She marshaled her thoughts to explain, but Barry cut her off.

  “Alanna, would you want to put on some coffee for my parents? I believe there are still some bennes left. Let me take your bags, Father.” He dropped his hand from Alanna’s shoulder and leaned down to grab the suitcases.

  “I’ll help your wife,” Patricia said, pressing her lips together.

  Alanna had hoped to escape the inquisition Patricia was sure to spring on her. “I’m not sure where the coffee is,” she said to Barry.

  “I’ll show you.” Though the offer was warm, the words were cold. Patricia stalked into the kitchen and retrieved a bag of coffee beans from the cabinet. Instead of starting the coffee, she turned and stared at Alanna. “You’re not fooling me,” she hissed. “I know what you’re after.”

  “Wha-what do you mean?” Alanna struggled to make sense of the other woman’s hostility. Did she already know this baby wasn’t Barry’s?

  “You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last, though I’ll never know why Barry should feel such a misguided sense of responsibility that he had to marry you.” She stepped closer.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Patricia’s mouth twisted. “You’re nothing special. Barry chases every redhead with even a superficial resemblance to Deirdre. You’re the first one he’s married, though, so you might be smarter than you look.”

  “You don’t understand.” Alanna held up her hand. “Let me explain.” It would be better for Patricia to realize there was nothing romantic in the relationship.

  Patricia rolled her eyes. “What kind of fool do you take me for? I knew the truth the minute I saw the resemblance.” She shook her finger in Alanna’s face. “I’ll have a talk with Barry and get to the bottom of this.” She spun on her expensive heels and stalked out the kitchen door.

  Alanna stared after her. Coffee. She turned back to the pot. Her hands shook as she measured out beans and put them in the grinder, then filled the carafe with water. The coffee prep wasn’t enough to distract her from what had just happened.

  Alanna shuddered at the venom she’d seen on her new mother-in-law’s face. Maybe Barry could set her straight. She’d exchanged one set of in-law problems for another, though this one was Barry’s fault.

  The whole mess sickened her. All she wanted was to find someplace peaceful to grieve, a space to practice her music. She hadn’t counted on such a hotbed of conflict.

  While the coffee brewed, she put the cookies on a plate. Waiting on the coffee, she glanced out the back window and saw Grady approaching the back door. Maybe he could answer some questions.

  He took his boots off on the back porch, then stepped into the kitchen. “Was that the great Richard and Patricia arriving?”

  “Yes.” She watched him walk to the sink and wash his hands. “They didn’t want Barry to marry me.”

  Drying his hands on a paper towel, he turned and leaned against the counter. “Doesn’t surprise me.” He tossed the towel onto the counter, then tugged at his earring. “His mother is a little controlling of everyone in her life.” He twirled his finger around his ear. “Don’t get on her bad side. She reminds me of Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane
?”

  Alanna wasn’t familiar with the movie, but she didn’t doubt his assessment of her mental health. “He’d not be telling his own parents about something so important?”

  “The Kavanaghs aren’t what you’d call close.” He shrugged. “I’m a good example of how the Kavanagh men make their own rules. Patricia should have learned that a long time ago.”

  The coffee was done, and she’d have to rejoin the rest soon. “What about that picture in the stairs—the one that looks like me? Patricia seemed quite shaken when she saw me.”

  He shrugged. “Old Fergus would never let anyone take down that picture. She was some woman he was mad over. From Ireland, naturally. He loved all things from the Emerald Isle. Quite the opposite of Patricia. She despises the Irish. I bet she had a cow when she heard your accent.”

  Alanna ignored his comment. “Fergus was Barry’s grandfather?”

  “Great-grandfather. He died a couple of weeks after I came to live here. Never liked me. I think it was the tattoo.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I think Deirdre is the banshee we hear on rainy nights.”

  Alanna shuddered. “Patricia made her dislike of the Irish very clear.” She told him what the woman had said.

  He grinned. “I’d like to have seen her face when she saw you. My mother looked a bit like the gal in that picture. The Kavanagh men seem to chase after the skirts who resemble her, and you’re a dead ringer.”

  She poured the coffee into cups and put them on a silver tray. She wished she could put her shoes on. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  Sixteen

  The silence in the parlor was as suffocating as the inky darkness outside the window. Alanna sneaked a glance at her watch. It wasn’t even nine. She stifled a yawn and wondered where Barry’s parents were going to sleep. Maybe they were expecting to sleep in her room. If so, what would she do if Barry expected her to move into his room? She was worn out from the grilling Patricia had put her through and only wanted to fall into oblivion, not deal with what had happened between them earlier in the day.