She had an urge to turn around and leave before he saw her, but instead she walked into the room and parked herself beside the foosball table. “Quite a setup you got here.”

Still hidden behind the New York Times, Ethan muttered a terse, “These are all the things I couldn’t afford when I was a kid. I wanted to have them now.”

Mary Kelley was no genius, but she sure understood his meaning: he’d had nothing growing up and was hoping to give this to his child. The child he’d thought was coming. The child he’d blackmailed a woman into creating with him.

She got it, and she felt Sybil’s pain, and she, too, rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he have been in his library beside the bar drinking like any normal pissed-off male?

She fiddled with the handles on the foosball table. “Do you play?”

“I rarely play games,” he said, still masked by the Times.

Neither did she, and she was having quite enough of this one. “Listen, you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah.” The paper came down with a snap, and Mary saw his face for the first time since they’d stood outside the doctor’s office and she’d told him the truth. As he stood and walked over to her, he looked like a determined, really angry devil, his black hair slightly spiky and his blue eyes fierce with a need to hurt. He stood close, stared into her eyes and said in a punishing voice, “I have never felt such disgust with anyone in my life.”

It was a strange thing-in that moment, spurred on by those words, Mary’s nerves suddenly lifted and she was no longer afraid of what he was going to do about her and her father. The only thing she felt in the moment was the need to strike back. “I know that feeling. I had it about a month ago. But we were standing in your office, not your playroom.”

His eyes blazed. “What you did was beyond low.”

“You’re right.”

“And you have nothing to say.”

“Just this. Need I remind you that you basically forced me into-”

“I never forced you to do anything,” he interrupted darkly. “It was your choice-”

“Choice?” she repeated. Was he kidding? “What choice did I have? Tell me that?”

“You could have walked away.”

“And left my dad to…what? Go to jail. Never.” She glared at him. “But you don’t understand that kind of devotion, do you? You’ve never loved anyone that much-so damn much that you’d make a great sacrifice for them.”

His gaze slipped to her belly.

She shook her head, not about to pity him. “No, Mr. Curtis. That wasn’t a sacrifice. That was a need to be met, a blue-blooded medal to hang around your neck to make you finally feel worthy.” His nostrils flared, and he looked dangerously close to exploding, but Mary wouldn’t back down. “At least the child would’ve belonged to the old-money club, right? And maybe you, too, by association? No, it doesn’t work that way.” She was yelling now, frustrated at him, at herself. “They don’t care about association, they only care about blood. Can you get that through your thick skull?”

When she stopped ranting, they both stood there, face-to-face, breathing heavily. His eyes had lost some of their heat and she wondered if she’d finally gotten through to him. But he didn’t answer her, not that she expected him to. He had too much pride. Instead, he did as all highly successful business persons do-he went for the jugular.

“You’re wondering if I’m going to file charges against your father now, aren’t you?” he said evenly, his tone cool.

Mary wasn’t about to deny it. “Of course.”

“I’m not.”

Shock slammed into her and she actually stuttered. “Wh-why?”

With a casual shrug, he left her and wandered over to the air hockey table where he picked up a paddle and examined it. “I’ve decided to close that chapter.”

Mary couldn’t contain her relief. Her father didn’t have to worry about court or jail ever again. She wasn’t about to thank Ethan, but she could feel the tension drain from her body and she sagged against the foosball table.

“But I do want something from you.”

Ethan’s words sent a shock of alarm through her tired limbs. “What?”

“Mackinac Island.”

Oh, no. The trip to the beautiful Michigan island. She was supposed to have planned a party there, served as hostess, but how could that ever happen now? “You want me to recommend someone to take my place, right?” she asked hopefully.

“No.”

“You can’t be seriously considering-”

He slammed the paddle down and glared at her. “Believe me when I say I would rather bring a python with me on this trip. But your reputation has preceeded you, and I need that party to go off without a problem.”

No way. She couldn’t. There was too much between them. She shook her head. “No.”

“You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing,” she assured him, straightening up, forcing her legs to hold her weight and not buckle.

His voice dropped and his lips thinned dangerously. “Don’t think I wouldn’t reconsider opening that paternal book again if I have to.”

She shook her head, knowing she was cornered. “You’re really good at blackmail.”

He lifted one sardonic eyebrow. “I’ll protect my business any way I have to.”

“Clearly.”

“Just as you would, Mary. Mine is administrative business and yours would be personal business.”

The idea that they were in any way alike made Mary’s blood jump in her veins, but she knew when her choices were few. “This will be our final business endeavor together.”

He nodded. “After the last guest has left my party, Ms. Kelley, you and I can pretend that we’ve never met each other. How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

Eight

The airport was packed, but Mary maneuvered her way through the crowds with the fierce determination of a woman going to war. According to the itinerary Ethan’s secretary had sent over yesterday morning, the plan was to fly to Chicago, then to Pellston Airport in Michigan, then take a cab to the Mackinac Island ferry. After their declarations of mutual disgust for each other, Mary was more than a little shocked that she and Ethan would be traveling together. She could’ve easily caught her own flight and met him at the hotel, but he’d insisted they make the trip together.

After checking in and making it through security without a body search, Mary headed over to the gate to wait for Ethan. She winced as she slid her carryon bag off her shoulder and onto one of the hard plastic chairs.

The captain’s regatta gala had been successful yesterday, raising a huge amount of money for the Cancer Research Institute, but Mary had forgotten to apply a liberal coat of sunscreen and had managed to give herself quite a sunburn in the process. And the painful moments just kept coming as she spotted Ethan walking toward her, looking anything but the stuffy business traveler in a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans, his large frame and hawklike gaze sending people out of his way without a word from him.

“Ms. Kelley.”

Her body instantly betrayed her, her insides jumping with awareness at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Curtis.”

“You look well,” he said, barely glancing at her striped polo shirt and white cropped jeans.

“Ah…thanks,” she muttered with a touch of sarcasm.

Ignoring her tone, Ethan handed her a large envelope. “I’ve taken the liberty of providing a dossier on the potential clients we’re going to see. Their likes, dislikes, food preferences and hobbies.”

“Great.” Mary couldn’t help but notice all the wistful stares Ethan was getting from women walking past. No wonder he could be so arrogant.

“As far as staff to hire for the party goes,” he continued brusquely, “I have the name of the best-”

“I’ve already been in touch with several staff-for-hire agencies on the island,” Mary informed him proudly. “I know who I’m going to hire and have already spoken to most of the staff.”

The only sign that Ethan might be impressed by her actions was the slight lift of his brows. “You’re nothing if not on top of matters, are you?”

Mary couldn’t tell if his words were meant as a backhanded compliment or sexual innuendo, but she flashed him a defiant glance regardless. “I’m good at what I do, how about that?”

“Make-believe,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“A wife-for-hire agency, Mary?” he stated, as if that said it all. “What is that but pretending to be someone else?”

Mary was silent for a moment, her ire moderated by observation. “You know, I think there’s hope for you yet, Curtis.”

“I guess it’s my turn to say, excuse me?”

“If you can recognize the phony in me, you’ll be able to see it in yourself soon enough.”

Before Ethan could even react to her words, a woman approached them with a plastered-on smile. “Mr. Curtis, you may board now if you wish. The first-class cabin is ready.”

“Thank you.”

Ready to follow him, Mary shouldered her bag. “Should I go with you or are we boarding separately?”

A slow grin touched Ethan’s mouth, and he nodded at her boarding pass. “Better check your seat assignment first.”

Confused, Mary looked down at the ticket in her hand. When she looked back up, Ethan was already on his way toward the gate. How lovely, she mused. While he got pampered with warm towels and chocolate chip cookies in first class, she was going to share a bathroom with forty other passengers in coach.

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Ethan asked her once they were aboard the ferry and headed for Mackinac Island.

“It’s nothing,” she grumbled.

“Nothing my ass,” he countered as they walked the length of the deck and back again. “You’re moving like a robot.”

Ethan was just full of compliments, and she felt like socking him. “It’s just a pulled muscle. No big deal.”

“You can’t meet clients like that.”