Treasured. Sherryl Woods

holding back as you are with the paintings I’m keeping from you.”

      Kathleen was caught completely off guard by the admission. It was an opening, a chance to get what she wanted, but at what cost?

      “I don’t think so,” she said at last.

      “What are you afraid of?”

      She wasn’t about to answer that. She couldn’t tell him that talking about the past would make her far too vulnerable, that it would create an illusion of intimacy that could be far too dangerous. There had been so many times in her life when she’d wanted to share all the secrets, to lean on someone stronger, but she’d kept her own counsel instead, because that was what Dugans did, damn them all.

      “I’m not afraid of anything,” she said fiercely, desperately wishing it were true. She was terrified of shadows, of people who weren’t what they first seemed to be. Her faith in people, her trust had been shattered too many times to count, even by the mother and grandparents she was expected to respect and adore.

      “Really?” Ben asked skeptically. “Nothing frightens you?”

      “Absolutely nothing,” she insisted, meeting his gaze, then faltering at the intensity in his blue eyes.

      “Then I guess there’s no reason at all not to do this,” he said, cupping a hand behind her neck and covering her mouth with his own.

      Fire shot through Kathleen’s veins as if she’d been touched by flame. Every sensible cell in her brain told her to pull away from the heat, but like the moth tempting fate, she moved into the kiss instead, then moaned when Ben was the one who withdrew.

      Feeling dazed, she stared into his eyes, saw the confusion and the passion and wondered what the devil had just happened. If anyone else had hit on her so abruptly, with so little warning, she would have been shaking with anger now. To her shock, while she was indeed trembling, it was because that kiss had touched a part of her she’d thought was forever dead.

      “Why?” she asked, unable to form a longer, more coherent question. Besides, why pretty much covered it.

      “I’m asking myself the same thing,” Ben admitted. “Maybe I just wanted to challenge that confidence I heard in your voice.”

      “Or maybe you wanted to prove something to yourself,” she responded irritably.

      “Such as?”

      “That Destiny had gotten it wrong this time.”

      “My aunt had nothing to do with that kiss,” he said heatedly.

      “Oh, really? Then you don’t care that it was exactly what she was hoping would happen between us?”

      “The damn kiss had nothing to do with Destiny,” he said again, dragging his hand through his hair. “I am sorry, though. It shouldn’t have happened.”

      Kathleen sighed. She agreed it had been a mistake, but she couldn’t seem to regret it the way she knew she should.

      “Let’s just forget about it,” she suggested mildly. “People kiss all the time and it means nothing.” At least, other people did. It was a brand-new experience for her to be able to participate in a kiss without wildly overreacting, without a hint of panic clawing at her.

      “Exactly,” Ben said, sounding relieved.

      “I should go. Please tell Destiny that I had a wonderful time. I’m sure I’ll see her soon at the gallery.”

      “Tomorrow morning would be my guess,” Ben said wryly.

      Kathleen laughed despite herself. “Mine, too.”

      “Will you tell her about the kiss?”

      “Heavens, no. Will you?”

      “Are you crazy? Not a chance.”

      Kathleen looked into his eyes and made a swift decision. “I’m still coming back out here, you know. You haven’t scared me off.”

      He gave her a vaguely chagrined look that told her she’d hit the mark. That kiss had been deliberate, after all, not the wicked impulse he’d wanted her to believe.

      He shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

      She laughed at having caught him. “I knew it. I knew that was what the kiss was about.”

      He gave her a long, lingering look that made her toes curl.

      “Not entirely,” he said, then grinned. “That should give you something to think about before you get into your car and head out this way again.”

      It was a dare, no question about it. If only he’d known Kathleen better, he’d have realized that it was a point of honor with her never to resist a challenge. She’d survived her past, and when she’d come through it, she’d vowed never to let another soul intimidate her or get the upper hand. She didn’t intend to let Ben Carlton—despite his sexy looks, killer smile and devastating kisses—be the exception.

      * * *

      After that potent kiss, Ben was surprised and oddly disgruntled when Kathleen simply grabbed her coat and walked out without even waiting to say goodbye to Destiny or to Mack and Beth.

      That was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? He’d wanted to scare her off. He should have felt nothing but relief that his plan had worked and his aunt’s plotting hadn’t succeeded, but he felt a little miffed, instead. That wasn’t a good sign. All of the Carlton men loved a challenge.

      Which probably meant that Destiny had advised Kathleen to go with her patented “always leave ’em wanting more” maxim. Alone with Destiny now, he gave his aunt a grim look.

      “What are you up to?” he asked as she sat on the sofa, her feet tucked under her. With her soft cloud of brown hair and bright, clear brown eyes, she looked to be little more than a girl, though he knew perfectly well she was fifty-three.

      Destiny sipped her brandy and regarded him without the slightest hint of guilt. “You’re too suspicious, Ben. Why would I be up to anything?”

      “Because it’s what you do. You meddle. Ever since you decided Richard, Mack and I were old enough to settle down, you’ve systematically worked to make it happen.”

      “Of course I have. I love you. What’s wrong with wanting to see you happy?”

      “I am happy.”

      “You’re alone. Ever since Graciela died, you’ve been terribly unhappy and guilt-ridden. It’s time to put that behind you, Ben. What happened was not your fault.”

      “I’m not discussing Graciela,” he said tightly.

      “That’s the problem,” Destiny said, undaunted for once by his refusal to talk about what had happened. “You’ve never talked about her, and I think perhaps it’s time you did. She wasn’t the paragon of virtue you’ve built her up to be, Ben. That much has to be clear, even to you.”

      “Destiny, don’t go there,” Ben warned. He knew that his family had never held a high opinion of Graciela, but he’d refused to listen then, and he was equally adamant about not listening now, even with all of the facts still burning a graphic image in his head. He’d seen her with that polo player, dammit. He didn’t need to be reminded of what were only rumors and speculation to everyone else.

      “I will go there,” Destiny said fiercely. “She was hardly a saint.”

      “Dammit, Destiny—”

      She cut him off with a look that made her disapproval of his language plain. “Leaving her was the right thing to do, Ben. You’re not responsible that she stormed off that night far too upset and drunk to be driving, and crashed her car into a tree. That was her doing, hers,” she repeated emphatically. “Not yours.”

      Ben felt the words slamming into him, carrying him back to a place he didn’t want to go, to a