Hayden frowned. “We’ve always been very aware of Katy. She’s almost a part of the family. No one wants to see her hurt. She went through a bit of a rough patch back when Eden and Atwood were married. Don’t want to see her go through something like that again.”
“Thoughtful of you,” Luke observed.
Eden’s eyes flashed. “I never wanted to hurt Katy. But Nate and I—well, it was just one of those things.”
“And Katy was just another road kill,” Luke said.
Eden gave him a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Forget it. Luke eyed the handsome faces of his family. “If you came here to gang up on me and tell me to stop seeing Katy, you’re wasting your time.”
“Hell, we know that.” Darren moved one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “It’s obvious you want her, even if you are all wrong for her.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Luke said dryly. Apparently no one considered him right for Katy. If he was honest, he had to admit he had not even considered himself right for her back at the beginning. It was a depressing thought.
“The thing is,” Maureen put in, her voice grimly forceful, “we don’t think you should lead her on. We don’t want you to use her and then cast her aside.”
“Is that right?” Luke cocked a brow. “What do you suggest I do?”
“Marry her,” Hayden said succinctly.
“What makes you think she’ll have me?” Luke asked quietly.
All four of them stared at him in amazement. It rarely occurred to Gilchrists that they could not have what they wanted. Not if they wanted it badly enough. And if they wanted something, they usually wanted it badly. Luke scowled at the thought. He was starting to make the same generalizations Katy made.
“What in the world are you talking about?” Maureen demanded. “If you ask her to marry you, she’ll marry you.”
“Of course she will,” Hayden said. “She wouldn’t be sleeping with you if she didn’t love you. Katy wouldn’t sleep with someone she didn’t love.”
Eden and Darren both nodded in agreement.
“Ask her,” Darren said.
“It’s not going to be that easy,” Luke murmured.
“Why not?” There was a militant gleam in Maureen’s eye.
“I can’t cook,” Luke explained.
If the four Gilchrists surrounding his desk had been amazed a minute earlier, they were all flabbergasted now.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Darren asked blankly. “What’s cooking got to do with it?”
“Katy told me once that the man she marries will have to be able to cook,” Luke said. “Have you ever known a Gilchrist who could cook?”
They all looked at one another again.
“Justine said that she would never cook after she got Gilchrist, Inc. to the point where she didn’t have to be her own chef.” Hayden’s gaze was reminiscent. “I remember how hard she worked in those early years. She slaved night and day in the kitchens of that first Gilchrist restaurant. Couldn’t afford staff. Every night she fell into bed exhausted. Thornton and I grew up with the notion that cooking was a pretty dreadful thing.”
“And you passed that idea on to your children.” Eden smiled wryly. “But it’s not all that difficult. I’ve done it on occasion. You just open a box and add stuff, and then you stick it in the microwave.”
“Salads are easy,” Maureen added helpfully. “You just wash of the lettuce and add some bottled dressing. You can get some interesting things like capers to sprinkle on the top. No problem.”
“Some of the frozen entrées Gilchrist Gourmet makes are really good,” Darren offered. “Take ‘em out of the microwave box, put ‘em on a plate, and no one would know they aren’t homemade.”
“Katy would. And I’m not talking about that kind of cooking,” Luke said. “I’m talking about real-cooking. Gourmet stuff.”
“Unfortunately,” Hayden admitted, “none of us has ever had much interest in the subject.”
“Katy’s interested in it. Passionately interested,” Luke said.
“So learn to cook,” Darren advised. “It can’t be all that difficult. Prove to her you can do it, and then ask her to marry you.”
“How do you suggest I go about learning to be a cordon bleu chef in a week?” Luke asked blandly.
Eden frowned. “I don’t see any problem. We’ve got a couple of dozen chefs on the payroll. We’ll get one of them to teach you.”
There was a general murmur of agreement. Everyone looked relieved.
It was Luke’s turn to gaze at the other members of the family in amazement. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be perfectly frank with you,” Hayden said. “It would have been best if you had never started an affair with Katy. She’s not your type, and you’re definitely not hers. But since it’s a fait accompli, we feel you should do the right thing by her.”
They all glowered at Luke.
“All right,” Luke said.
They eyed him closely, obviously wary of such easy victory.
“Soon,” Darren stipulated.
“Soon,” Luke promised softly. “Very soon.”
“I’ll line up one of the Gilchrist chefs to give you instructions,” Eden said.
Luke got the message summoning him to Justine’s suite the next morning. He went downstairs to the first floor of the mansion and presented himself at the door.
“Mrs. Gilchrist is very upset, and it’s all your fault,” Mrs. Igorson announced as she opened the door.
“Don’t worry,” Luke said. “By the time I leave she’ll probably be even more annoyed.”
Justine was waiting for him in her favorite wing-back throne. The gray light of a cloudy day dulled the silver in her hair but not the glitter in her green eyes. Justine was in fighting form, Luke noted. As he approached she seemed to stiffen with anger. Her shoulders were rigid beneath her black blouse.
“What is this I hear about you asking Katy to marry you?” Justine snapped.
“False gossip and malicious rumor,” Luke said mildly. He sat on the window seat and looked at Justine. “I haven’t asked her yet.”
“But you intend to ask her?”
“If I can work up the courage.”
Justine’s mouth tightened. “Don’t joke with me, Luke.”
“It’s no joke. There’s a good chance she’ll refuse. You know we Gilchrists have a hard time with rejection.”
Justine’s hand clenched on the arm of the chair. “Damn you, Luke, I told you I did not want her hurt.”
“Everyone seems to be very concerned about me hurting Katy. I have to admit I’m a little surprised.”
“What did you expect? Katy has been almost a daughter to me. I won’t stand by and see you take advantage of her.”
Luke studied the toes of his boots for a moment and then glanced up with a quizzical smile. “The reason I’m surprised at all this interest in my relationship with Katy is that Gilchrists don’t usually concern themselves with innocent victims.”
Justine’s eyes flashed with anger. “What a ridiculous thing to say. I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I want to make it perfectly clear that you are not to ask Katy to marry you.”
“You think I’d make her a lousy husband?”
Justine closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again her gaze was steady. “Our family has done enough damage to hers. I do not want to see it happen yet again.”
“You’re referring to the famous incident thirty-seven years ago, I assume?” Luke tapped the file he was holding against his thigh.
“We agreed we would not discuss it,” Justine said coldly. “But since you raise the issue, yes. We are talking about the fact that the last time a Gilchrist got involved with someone in Katy’s family he left her a
t the altar. I will not allow it to happen twice.”
Luke slanted her an assessing glance. “What makes you think I’ll leave Katy at the altar?”
Justine’s gaze never wavered. “I am not a fool. Bringing you here to take over Gilchrist, Inc. was a calculated risk on my part. I was well aware that you might use the opportunity to take revenge on me and the family.”
Luke suddenly understood. “You think I might set up a replay of what happened thirty-seven years ago just to humiliate you and the others?”
Justine drew a deep breath and looked away. “I think there is a possibility you might see it as a fitting revenge.”
Luke nodded thoughtfully. “A true Gilchrist revenge. To make it work I would have to sabotage the company first, of course. Then I could give you the coup de grace by setting up a scenario that would humiliate you in front of your friends and business associates just as you were humiliated thirty-seven years ago. Not bad. Think how they would all laugh at you, Justine. And those that weren’t laughing would pity you.”
“Stop it,” she snapped. “As I said, bringing you here was a calculated risk.”
Luke got to his feet and began to prowl the room. “Has it ever occurred to you that if you had kept your end of the bargain with Quinnell thirty-seven years ago Katy and her brother would be Gilchrist heirs today?”
Justine’s gaze was stony now. “Yes.”
“That was the real reason you gave Katy the job as your personal assistant after her parents died, wasn’t it? Not because of what my father did to her mother, but because you felt guilty about what you had done. You knew Katy and Matt would not have been left penniless if you had gone through with the merger.”
“There was nothing left of the Quinnell business after Katy’s father died,” Justine said softly. “He had driven it into the ground. If the merger had taken place, that would never have happened. I could have run both the Quinnell restaurants and my own. Richard Quinnell’s empire would not have gone under. Katy and her little brother would have been financially secure.”
“Quinnell saved you years ago when you found yourself widowed with two small boys to raise, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“You owed him.”
“Yes. But I could not go through with that merger.” Justine’s hand clenched once more. “I could not take the risk of giving away partial control of my company to outsiders. I do not regret what I did, and I have done what I could to make amends. Katy has never blamed me for anything that’s happened.”
“No, she wouldn’t do that. All Katy wants is to be free of Gilchrists once and for all.” Luke stopped in front of the window. “I’m going to ask her to marry me, Justine.”
“Damn you.”
“Look on the bright side. Maybe she’ll turn me down.”
“And if she accepts?” Justine asked, her eyes hard.
Luke smiled grimly. “If she accepts, you’re going to have to sweat out my real intentions until the day of the wedding, aren’t you, Justine? You won’t know until the last minute whether I’m plotting revenge or if I’ve actually fallen in love with Katy.”
Justine paled. “You aren’t in love with her.”
The certainty in her voice made Luke curious. “How can you be so sure of that?”
“Because your father told me thirty-seven years ago that no Gilchrist could love a woman like Katy’s mother. He said she was sweet but unexciting. There was no passion in her, he said. No drama. He needed a woman like Cleo. Katy is the image of her mother.”
“But she’s not her mother, and I’m not my father.”
“You are more like him than you will ever know. And you are attracted to the same kind of women. I saw the photos of your wife in the papers. Compared to her Katy must seem very plain indeed. Don’t try to tell me you’re in love with her.”
Luke shrugged. “Okay. I won’t tell you that.”
“And if you’re not in love with her,” Justine continued relentlessly, “then there is only one reason you would ask her to marry you.”
“The final act of my revenge?”
“Yes, damn you.” Justine leaned forward, her fingers tight around the arms of her chair. “Luke, I brought you back here to save the company and the family. Katy believes you’re going to help us, not destroy us.”
“It will be interesting to see what you believe, won’t it?” Luke started toward the door. “Will you be in church on the day I marry Katy?”
“There will be no wedding,” Justine grated.
“How will you stop it?”
“I shall convince Katy to reject your proposal if it is the last thing I do.”
“Poor Katy. Caught in the middle of a Gilchrist duel. Well, may the best Gilchrist win.” Luke paused. “By the way, does the name Sam Atwood mean anything to you?”
Justine faltered, clearly thrown off balance by the change of topic. She scowled. “Atwood? Any connection to that dreadful Nate Atwood?”
“His father.”
“No. I never knew his father. I understood the man was dead.”
“He is,” Luke said. “He committed suicide about fifteen years ago. He lost his wife to cancer, and shortly after that he lost his business. Apparently it was too much for him. He put a bullet in his brain.”
Justine gave him a sharp look. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I guess,” Luke said softly. “Just another Gilchrist road kill.”
The following afternoon Luke stood in front of one of the large stainless steel sinks in the gleaming kitchen of the Pacific Rim. He silently cursed all temperamental chefs.
“No, no, no, Mr. Gilchrist.” Benedict Dalton, resplendent in pristine white from head to toe, frowned at the bunch of green leaves Luke clutched in his fist. “One must handle spinach very carefully. One does not wish to bruise it.”
“How the hell am I supposed to get the stem off if I don’t hang on to the leaf?”
Benedict sighed. “With great care, Mr. Gilchrist. And a proper respect for the freshness of the produce. Once again. Hold the leaf gently in your left hand, and take the stem between thumb and forefinger. Remove it gently.”
Luke jerked the stem. The leaf tore apart.
Benedict was outraged. “My God, you have no feeling for the spinach at all, Mr. Gilchrist.”
“If it’s so damn sensitive, maybe I should forget using it in the salad.”
Benedict’s lips pursed. “This is to be a practice session, if you will recall. And you were the one who chose the spinach salad for your menu, so it makes perfect sense to practice with spinach.”
“It’s a hell of a nuisance, if you ask me.”
“If you do not wish to learn how to clean spinach properly, you are, naturally, free to prepare your salad with the sand left in it.”
Luke slanted the chef a surly glance. “No, thanks.”
Benedict smiled beatifically, obviously secure in the knowledge that he held the upper hand. “If you wish to select other greens, you may, of course, do so. There is romaine, curly endive, arugula, watercress. All, however, are even more fragile than spinach.”
“Never mind.” Luke eyed the leaves floating in the water. “I’ve started with the damned spinach, and I’ll stick to it. Is it really necessary to wash each leaf by hand?”
“I’m afraid so.” Benedict’s tone did not sound particularly sympathetic.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“It is not often one has a chance to give orders to a Gilchrist,” Benedict said cheerfully. “Now then, have you decided which dressing you will want to prepare?”
“The lemon vinaigrette.”
“Excellent choice. Have you ever made a vinaigrette dressing?”
“No.”
“It will be an interesting experience, I’m sure. Are you a patient
man?”
“Not when it comes to cooking. Luke painstakingly rinsed off another spinach leaf.
“Perhaps you will learn patience as we go on.”
“I doubt it.” Luke ripped off another stem.
“Then it is unfortunate that you have chosen to do a soufflé for your dessert course.”
“I chose it because I think the lady I’m inviting to dinner will be impressed by a soufflé,” Luke said through his teeth. He ripped off another stem with a savage movement.
Benedict tut-tutted disapprovingly. “My, we are wasting a great deal of spinach, aren’t we?”
“I can afford it,” Luke muttered.
He grabbed another leaf out of the water and held it under the faucet. This was stupid, he told himself. Really stupid. He did not stand a chance of impressing Katy with one home-cooked gourmet meal. She would probably find his efforts hilarious. She found it so damn easy to laugh at Gilchrists most of the time.
The plan to cook and serve a spectacular meal to her and then ask her to marry him was no doubt doomed before it even got off the ground.
She would never marry a Gilchrist.
On the other hand, his instincts told him she would not sleep with a man she did not love.
She was sleeping with him. That had to mean she loved him.
But she’d never said anything about love, he reminded himself.
Luke set his teeth and rinsed another spinach leaf. This terrible sense of uncertainty was new to him. He didn’t like it.
Katy raised her brows when Liz told her she was wanted downstairs in Justine’s suite.
“She wants to see me alone? Without Luke?”
“Uh-huh.” Liz narrowed her eyes with an air of clinical assessment. “If you ask me, she is in a state of anxiety. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s on the verge of a panic attack.”
“She called up here herself? It wasn’t Mrs. Igorson?”
“Nope. It was Mrs. Gilchrist. Sounds like she needs a dose of vitamin V.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Valium.” Liz chuckled. “A little professional joke.”
“When do you start your new classes at college, Liz?”