“Damn it to hell, Phila.”
She tensed. “I'm sorry, Nick. It was a terrible thing to do, but I couldn't think of anything else. I had to stop him. I had to get the kids away from him.”
“Sorry. For God's sake, don't apologize. The only thing to be sorry about is that we don't have a foolproof way to offer kids protection from creeps like Elijah Spalding. You should never have been forced into a situation where you had to take such an incredible risk to save those children.”
She let out the breath she had been holding. “I didn't want to tell anyone, ever. I figured I had made the decision to do it in the first place and I would have to live with what I had done. I couldn't ask anyone else to help bear the burden of the truth.”
“But you quit your job.”
“I had to quit. I knew I couldn't go on working as a caseworker. This time I hadn't just bent a few rules. I'd gone past all the boundaries. Taken the law into my own hands. I was no longer a professional, I was a vigilante.”
“You don't feel guilty, do you? Because you sure as hell shouldn't.”
“No. It isn't guilt I feel. I'd do it again, if I had to. But it was hard, Nick. Hard to do. Hard to live with afterward. Just like the shooting today.”
“Keep in mind that you're not living with it alone any longer.” He kissed her, his eyes gleaming in the shadows. “I love you.”
“What really made you think there was more to the story than I had told you?”
“There seemed to be a lot of convenient coincidences in the account. Coincidences that sounded like a lot of luck or some very clever planning. I knew how badly you had wanted to shut down the Spalding foster home. I also knew you well enough to know you'd do whatever you had to do if you thought it was right. Then there was that bit about Ruth Spalding adamantly claiming her husband had to be innocent of the dope charges. She was so convinced you'd lied. It all added up to a question mark.”
Phila was awed. “Sometimes you're a little too smart, Nick. Too clever and too slick. It scares me.”
“But sometimes I'm just an ordinary dumb macho male.” He grinned. “As you have pointed out on numerous occasions.”
Phila began to relax for the first time all day. “True. I'll try to comfort myself with that thought. Good heavens, I almost forgot. What happened at the annual meeting? Who's the new CEO of Castleton & Lightfoot?”
“Guess.”
“They voted for you? All of them?”
“All except Hilary.”
“Oh, Nick, that's wonderful. I knew you'd win.” She threw her arms around him. “I just knew it.”
Nick rolled over onto his back and looked up at her with laughing eyes. “I've got news for you, honey. I won before I even walked into that meeting this morning.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“I had you, didn't I?”
“That would have been enough? Even without C&L?”
“More than enough.”
She kissed him thoroughly. “Congratulations, Mr. Chief Executive Officer.”
“Just call me boss.”
“Never.”
“Then,” he said smoothly, “you can call me husband.”
Phila raised her head to look down at him. “You still want to marry me?”
“Phila, we are definitely going to get married. There was never any doubt about that. I decided this morning that I was willing to give you a little time to get comfortable with the idea of marrying into the families.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
“I knew you weren't sure how they felt about you,” Nick continued, unperturbed. “But after the way they all rushed over here to save you today and stayed to protect you from the cops and the reporters, you can't doubt any longer that they're on your side. Face it, honey. You're family now, whether you like it or not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The voluminous white satin skirts of Phila's wedding gown drifted down in gleaming, rippling waves from the railing where she had her ankles propped up on the boards of the Gilmarten porch. She sat in a comfortably decrepit wicker chair, a glass of champagne in one hand. Her veil was draped over the railing beside her crossed ankles. A light late-evening breeze ruffled the gossamer netting.
Her new husband was sitting beside her, his chair tipped back on two legs, his ankles propped up next to Phila's. Nick was still wearing his formal black-and-white wedding attire, but he had long since removed his jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. He had a glass of scotch in his hand.
The wedding had been a traditional Castleton and Lightfoot affair, according to Victoria. It had taken place on the lush green lawn in front of the Lightfoot beach house with most of the populace of Port Claxton in attendance.
The families, it seemed, liked weddings and made the most of them. Phila told herself she should be grateful somebody hadn't brought out fireworks. It had been bad enough having to fend off Cupcake and Fifi at the buffet table.
The last of the guests had, with obvious reluctance, finally left less than a half hour earlier. Nick had wasted no time whisking Phila away from the beach cottages to the privacy of the Gilmarten place. There he had poured himself a scotch and filled Phila's champagne glass. Then they had both gone out onto the porch to watch the evening close in around them.
“I've been thinking,” Phila announced, feeling more content and happy than she could ever remember being before.
“I'm going to hate myself for asking this. What have you been thinking about?”
“Hilary.”
“Of all the damn fool things to be thinking about at a time like this. Phila, this is our wedding day. The last thing you should be thinking about is my ex-wife.” Nick swore under his breath. “Make that my father's ex-wife.”
“Hilary's and Reed's divorce isn't final yet.”
“It will be soon enough. There's sure as hell no need for you to be thinking about it right now.”
“But I've come up with a really terrific idea, Nick.”
“Yeah?” He eyed her suspiciously. “Like what?”
“Like why don't you sell Lightfoot Consulting Services to her?”
Nick's feet came down off the railing and hit the porch with a thud. “Sell her Lightfoot Consulting? Are you out of your mind? Why in hell would I want to do a thing like that?”
“Now, Nick, be reasonable. You said yourself just the other day that you won't be able to continue running Lightfoot Consulting as well as Castleton & Lightfoot. You can't spread yourself that thin.”
“Yeah, but I sure as hell never meant to turn my company over to Hilary, of all people.”
“I didn't say turn it over to her. I said sell it to her in exchange for her shares in C&L.”
“The families will get those shares back after the divorce. It's in the prenuptial contract Hilary signed.”
Phila was dumbfounded. “There was a contract?”
“Sure. It was decided years ago that anyone marrying into the families would get a block of shares to vote but that those shares would revert back to the rest of us in the event of a divorce. All Castleton and Lightfoot brides sign wedding contracts. If we ever get any grooms from outside the families, they'll sign them, too. It's a tradition.”
“I didn't sign anything!”
Nick grinned and sipped his scotch. “I know.”
“Well? Why wasn't I asked to sign a contract?” Phila demanded.
“I decided to break with tradition in your case. Besides, I know damn good and well you're not going anywhere. You're stuck with me for life.” Nick repropped his feet up on the railing alongside Phila's. His chair tilted back on its two back legs once again.
“Is that so?”
“Damn right. Where else are you going to find a man who will let you attack him every night with your special Patented Flying Assault?”
“Oh, Nick.” She didn't know quite what to say. Then she smiled. “You're right, you know. I was extremely lucky to find you.
There's probably not another male on the face of the earth like you.”
“If there is and if he ever gets close to you, I'll personally remove him from the face of the earth.”
Phila heard the cool certainty beneath the bantering tone. She slid a quick glance in his direction and saw the implacable expression on his face. She decided it would be best to go back to the original subject.
“About Hilary.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
“Stop whining, Nick. I'm serious. Sell her Lightfoot Consulting. She'll thrive on the challenge of expanding that company. And it will be all hers.”
“This,” Nick announced, “is the dippiest idea you've come up with yet. Give me one good reason why I should sell Lightfoot Consulting to Hilary.”
Phila smiled. “I could give you plenty of logical, practical, intelligent reasons but there's really only one that counts.”
“Which is?”
“She's family.”
Nick groaned and swallowed more scotch. “I knew you were going to be trouble the day I met you.”
“The feeling was mutual,” Phila said cheerfully.
A cool, soft darkness had enveloped the porch.
“I'll think about it,” Nick finally muttered. “But not tonight.”
“All right,” Phila agreed. “Not tonight.”
Nick glanced at his watch. “It's about that time.”
“What time?”
“Time,” he explained patiently, “for you to drag me off to bed.”
Phila felt a warm, tingling sensation move through her, stirring all her nerve endings the way a summer breeze stirred leaves. She sighed happily. “I guess it is about that time.”
She put her champagne glass down on the railing and leaned over to kiss Nick. The wicker chair tipped precariously and started to collapse. Phila tried to steady herself by clutching at the back of Nick's chair. As it was already balanced delicately on two legs, Phila's weight was more than sufficient to send it toppling over onto its back.
Nick grabbed Phila and flung out one arm to break their fall. They both landed harmlessly on the edge of an old sofa and rolled off onto the porch. When they came to rest they were entangled in the skirts of Phila's wedding gown.
Nick pushed aside a wave of satin and grinned up at his wife. “A new technique?”
“I'm not used to wearing long dresses,” Phila explained, turning pink.
“Maybe it would be easier if I carried you off to bed this time. After all, it is our wedding night. Would you mind very much if we did this the traditional way tonight?”
She smiled down at him, her love in her eyes. “Not at all,” she said graciously. “I know how big you Lightfoots are on tradition.”
“Yeah. Something to be said for tradition.” Nick got to his feet and helped Phila to hers. Then he picked her up, her long skirts falling in a snowy wave over his arm, and carried her inside the old beach house.
“I think,” said Phila a short while later as she lay naked and gently crushed beneath her husband's weight, “that I could get to like it this way.”
Several months later Nick and Reed took advantage of a rare sunny morning in winter to get in a round of golf on a private course that bordered Lake Washington.
“How come Phila was in such a prickly mood this morning?” Reed asked, shading his eyes with one hand as he watched Nick's fairway shot.
“You know Phila. She's often prickly in the mornings.” Nick shoved the iron back in his golf bag.
“Not like she was this morning. You two been arguing?”
Nick swore. “A small disagreement, that's all.”
“Goddamn it, Nick, don't you know any better than to argue with a pregnant lady?”
“I hate to disillusion you, Dad, but your precious Phila is not above using her delicate condition to get what she wants.”
“So give her what she wants.”
Nick smiled fleetingly. “You don't know what you're saying.”
“Well?” Reed demanded as he climbed back into the golf cart. “What does she want?”
“More money from Castleton & Lightfoot for Barbara Appleton's day-care centers. This is the third time she's hit me up for cash for that project in the past six months.”
“Big deal. She's worked hard with Barbara to keep those centers running. You coughed up the money the other two times with barely a whimper. Why dig in your heels now?”
“Because Phila doesn't show any signs of ever being satisfied,” Nick said grimly. “Left to her own devices she's going to run amok giving away C&L money.”
Reed chuckled. “Nick, I'm going to level with you. I'll be the first to admit you're doing a hell of a job with Castleton & Lightfoot, even if I don't agree with every move you've made since you've been in charge. But you've still got a lot to learn when it comes to handling women.”
“Oh, yeah? You're an expert?”
“Let's just say I've had a little more experience dealing with Phila's type. Way I see it, you got no choice but to do what I finally did with Nora.”
Nick glanced thoughtfully at his father. “You convinced everyone to let Mom handle most of the charitable contributions for Castleton & Lightfoot.”
“Worked out just fine.”
“The hell it did. You were always arguing with her over where the money was going.”
“So do it more formally than I did. Set up a Castleton & Lightfoot Foundation. Put Phila in charge, and give her a budget. Make her stick to it.”
Nick climbed out of the cart and stood in the middle of the fairway, staring at his father. “Have you gone soft in the head? Put Phila in charge of a foundation designed to give away C&L money?”
“Think of the tax write-offs.”
Nick began to grin. The grin turned into a roar of laughter.
“What's so funny?” Reed demanded.
“All right, I'll do it. I'll let Phila set up a foundation and I'll put her in charge. But don't come squawking to me when she presents her list of worthy charities and institutions at the annual meeting.”
Reed grinned, slightly abashed. “You think a few of the old standbys are going to get dropped?”
“Not only will some of your favorites get dropped, but I can personally guarantee you the first thing Phila will do is demand an increase in her foundation's budget. Don't look now, Dad, but C&L has acquired a conscience and her name is Philadelphia Fox Lightfoot.”
“I reckon I can live with a conscience as long as I get my grandkid.”
“Don't worry. You'll get your grandchild. Hell, you're going to get a whole bunch of grandchildren.”
“Think you can talk Phila into having more than one?” Reed looked pleased at the prospect.
“Yeah,” said Nick, already anticipating the way Phila would give herself to him in bed that night even though she had argued with him that morning. She would be all over him, hot, fiery and full of a boundless love. “I'm working on the problem.”
Jayne Ann Krentz, The Golden Chance
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