Backwards Honeymoon. Leigh Michaels
the deal better.”
The woman was completely self-destructive. How she had managed to make it this far was beyond him. Out on her own, alone in the world—she’d be shark bait, no question about it. But even worse, she was actually going to invite the sharks to come closer and circle around….
He took a deep breath and tried to look at things from her perspective. Her nickname was a byword across the nation. Her picture—actually it was a photo of her as a child, but there was no question the resemblance was still a strong one—was a trademarked symbol. How could she ever be absolutely certain that any man loved her for herself and not her money?
“How did you decide on Douglas?” he asked.
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. “His family mined iron ore in the Mesabi Range. Only instead of reinvesting everything in iron, they bought banks. His share of the family wealth should have been worth a whole lot more than my thirty percent of Katie Mae’s Kitchens.”
“Ah,” he said on a note of discovery. “So you were something of a fortune hunter yourself!”
“I thought someone who had his own money wouldn’t be particularly interested in collecting more. Obviously it wasn’t a workable plan, so I’ll try something else.” She was staring straight ahead as she said softly, “I’m going to marry somebody. I’d much rather it be you, Jonah.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Jonah said dryly. “You don’t know anything about me.”
She shot a glance at him. “So what? I knew an awful lot about Douglas. Probably just about everything there was to know—except for the gambling debts.”
“I take an occasional five-dollar flyer on a sports pool,” he warned.
Kathryn shrugged. “Big deal. Besides, I know the important things. I know your father. I know you grew up on the estate.”
“If you think that makes us similar, take another look. There’s a great deal of distance between the big house and the gardener’s cottage.”
“Of course there is. But just because you were there, you can understand—more than anyone else can—how it was for me, growing up there.”
He cast his mind back over the years. Not that he’d seen her often—and perhaps that was the point she was trying to make. Katie Mae Campbell had not only been isolated by walls and gates, but by her social status. Even the few other children who lived on the Campbell estate had been discouraged from making any contact with her. Jonah himself had never tried; the few times he’d encountered little Katie Mae had been completely accidental. But then he’d been half a dozen years older and much too mature—in his own estimation, at least—to be interested in a little girl with glossy black curls and wide, dark blue eyes. A girl who was always dressed in ruffles and who looked as if she’d never dream of climbing a tree.
How lonely she must have been, he thought.
“Your parents meant well,” he said. “Keeping you protected like that. After that kidnaping threat—”
“I know they had to protect me.” The resignation in her voice abruptly gave way to something like triumph. “See? You do understand how it was.”
“A little, maybe.”
“And I know that you’re kind,” she said softly, “or you wouldn’t have helped me get outside the walls in the first place. Very kind, or you wouldn’t be helping me right now.”
Lunatic, he thought, would be a more accurate description.
He let the silence lengthen and finally said, “I think we should find a pay phone so you can call your father. At least let him know you’re safe.”
She laughed. “And you talk about me not being logical?”
“If you didn’t even leave a note—”
“There wasn’t time.”
“He’ll be worried about you.”
“Jonah, that place is so wired for sound that he could trace me within fifteen seconds of answering the phone.”
“He has good reason for that. And maybe I can figure a way to get around it.”
“If you can do that, you’re the greatest electronics genius of your day. Even twenty years ago, he had a good enough bugging system that—” Her voice caught.
Jonah nodded. “That he told the FBI precisely where to find the extortionists who’d phoned him and threatened to snatch you if he didn’t pay them off. I remember. That incident is exactly why you shouldn’t leave him in suspense this time.”
“The system is a whole lot more sensitive now.”
“I’ll figure something out—at least a way to get a message to him. He’s not young anymore, Katie. Don’t make him suffer unnecessary stress.”
“Who are you, anyway? His doctor?” She sighed. “All right, but it’s on your head. If your great idea fails and he finds me, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Maybe he’ll be so glad to hear from you that you’ll be headed straight home of your own free will.”
She didn’t answer that, but the tilt of her eyebrows spoke volumes. A little later, she said, “This deal we’ve been talking over—what about if I offer you fifteen percent of Katie Mae’s Kitchens?”
“Fifteen percent of the company or fifteen percent of your share? Not that I’m indicating interest either way, you understand. It’s just idle curiosity.”
She looked at him sideways. “Oh, sure, you’re just curious. I meant of the company. That leaves me fifteen percent. My father still holds forty and the rest of the shares are owned by a bunch of investors, so it wouldn’t change anything, really. I’d still be a major stockholder.”
Jonah shook his head. “You need to learn to negotiate, Katie. Pick your man carefully, approach him right, and you could probably settle for five percent. Certainly for ten.”
She raised her chin a fraction. “I’d rather be fair up front and get things settled quickly.”
Shark bait, he thought. She’s doomed.
Fifteen minutes later, Jonah slowed for a small town. “I wonder if there’s a library here.”
“Probably not one that’s open at this hour on a Saturday night. What do you want to look up, anyway?”
“Libraries have public-access computers, sweetheart. If nothing else, we can send your father an e-mail. He does have an e-mail address, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, yes. His newest toy is a gadget the size of a remote control that lets him download his mail anywhere. He’s in love with that thing. But can’t e-mail messages be traced?”
“Not this one. Not by the time I get done with it.”
“In that case, there’s an easier solution.” She pointed at a low building across the highway.
“A coffeehouse?”
“Look at the neon sign in the window.”
“Internet access. Perfect.” He swung the car into the parking lot.
The coffeehouse wasn’t particularly busy, but Jonah guided Kathryn to a booth instead of toward the row of computers along one side of the room. When she gave him a questioning look, he said, “I could use a cup of coffee. Besides, we’d be more likely to be noticed if we went straight for the computer. Noticed—and remembered, in case anyone happens to come along and ask. What would you like?”
“Whatever you’re getting for yourself.”
“I’m ordering a large, plain, house blend—black, no sugar. If you’d rather have something fancy—”
Kathryn