by Lisa Jackson
“More important than opening the lodge?”
“Mmm.” He nuzzled her neck. “Definitely more important.” And, kissing her, he proved it.
Later, while Gavin was working elsewhere in the lodge, Melanie dialed the newspaper.
The receptionist answered on the second ring. “Taylor’s Crossing Tribune.”
“Hi, Molly, it’s Melanie.”
“Melanie! Where’ve you been?” Molly asked, her voice breathless. “Brian’s been looking everywhere for you!”
“I got stuck up at Ridge Lodge when the storm hit last night,” Melanie said, feeling more than a trifle guilty as she glanced at the still-rumpled bed. “The road’s been closed. Is Brian there?”
“Yeah, I’ll connect you.”
Molly clicked off, and a few seconds later, Brian Michaels’s voice boomed over the wires. “Where the hell are you?”
“Ridge Lodge,” she said, repeating everything she’d just told Molly.
“And you were up there all night?” Brian asked.
“That’s right.”
“Melanie, I need you down here! We need pictures of the downed lines and the road crews and God only knows what else.”
“I’ll be there as soon as the roads are clear,” she promised. “And I’ve got some great shots of the lodge.”
“Good, good. According to the state police and the highway department, the road to the lodge will be open this afternoon.”
A twinge of regret tugged at Melanie’s heart. “I’ll make a beeline to the office.” she promised.
“Good. I’ll be in all afternoon.” His voice lowered. “And, since you’re up on the hill anyway, there’s something I’d like you to check into for me.”
The hairs on the back of Melanie’s neck rose. “What’s that?”
“I want you to nose around. See if the resort is experiencing any financial trouble.”
“Financial trouble,” she repeated, her temper starting to rise.
“Right. There’s a rumor circulating that an investor is backing out, that Doel’s sunk all his personal fortune into this place and unless it opens and opens big, he’s in trouble.”
“I doubt it,” Melanie replied tightly.
“Where there’s smoke there’s fire.”
“I think that depends on who set up the smoke screen.” She kept her voice low, hoping Gavin wouldn’t walk in on her. Clenching her fingers around the receiver, she felt trapped. To think she’d defended Brian to Gavin!
“Well, Rich Johanson spends a hell of a lot of time in Portland trying to keep that legal practice of his alive.”
“So what?”
“Seems strange to me.”
“You’re fishing, Brian.”
“Maybe, but you keep looking around. As long as you’re there, you may as well keep your eyes and ears open.”
“Listen, Brian, I’m the photographer for the Tribune. I’ll take all the pictures you need, but that’s as far as it goes! I’m not going to run around here trying to ferret out some dirt.”
She hung up and slowly counted to ten. She’d gotten only as far as seven when the door to the apartment opened and Gavin strode in.
“Road crews are already working between here and Taylor’s Crossing.”
“So I heard,” she admitted, motioning to the telephone. “I just called the office.”
A lazy, self-deprecating grin stretched across Gavin’s jaw. “And what did good old Brian have to say?”
“He misses me.”
Gavin lifted a lofty brow. “Anything else?”
“Well, he did mention that I should poke around here and find out if you were financially stable.”
“You’re kidding.” Gavin swore loudly.
“Nope.”
“Then he was”
“I don’t think so.”
Gavin shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Michaels will stoop to anything,” he said, disgusted. “The financial situation at the lodge is none of his business. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent you up here just to find out what was going on.”
Melanie hardly dared breathe. He wasn’t serious, was he? Here, in this room, the bed still warm from lovemaking—how could he even say anything so cruel? “Brian didn’t send me, Gavin.”
“Of course he didn’t,” Gavin agreed. “But I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“And me?”
He snorted contemptuously. “I don’t think you sleep with men to get the kind of story or pictures or whatever it is you want from them.”
“I don’t sleep with men, period. Except for you,” She picked up a pen from the table and twisted it nervously.
His face lost all expression. “What about Neil?”
“Only while we were married.”
He blanched.
“And there’s something I should explain about that,” she said quietly, her voice shaking as she struggled for the right words. “I married Neil because of the baby.”
The room went still. Melanie heard her own heart thud painfully. She lifted her eyes to meet the questions in Gavin’s gaze.
“I thought you said you didn’t sleep with Neil until you were married.”
“I didn’t.”
“And just last night—you told me you couldn’t get pregnant?”
“I couldn’t—I mean, I can’t, not now, not with Neil—I mean. . . .” Her hands were shaking and her throat was cotton dry. She forced herself to stare straight into his eyes. “What I’m trying to say, Gavin, is that the reason I married Neil was because I was pregnant.” She couldn’t help the tears clogging her throat. It was all she could do to stand there, keeping her knees from buckling.
The air in the room was suddenly hot, the glare in Gavin’s gaze positively murderous. “Pregnant?” he repeated slowly, quietly.
“Yes.”
“But you said . . .”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I know what I said. But I did get pregnant once, Gavin. And the baby was yours.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Mine? What?” he whispered hoarsely, his face devoid of color, his lips bloodless.
“I was pregnant when you left, but I didn’t know it. When I found out you were already trying out for the ski team and—”
“Lies!”
“No! Gavin, why would I lie?” she cried.
“I don’t know,” he growled, stepping forward, his eyes gleaming menacingly. “But you must have a reason.”
“I just thought you’d want to know.”
“Now? After eight years?” His voice was so low and threatening that her skin crawled. “When it’s so convenient? How stupid do you think I am?”
“I don’t—”
He grabbed her upper arm, his fingers digging deep. “Just last night you told me you couldn’t conceive. That’s right, isn’t it? Or has that story changed, too?”
She didn’t blame him for being angry, but the explosion of emotion on his face scared her. She tried to jerk her arm away but he clamped down all the harder.
“I’m not lying, Gavin.”
“Oh, no? So where’s the kid? Hmm? The son—or daughter—that I fathered?”
She crumbled inside. “Oh, God, Gavin, don’t. Can’t you see how hard this is for me?”
“I see that you lied eight years ago and you’re doing it still.”
“No—please, you’ve got to believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the truth!” she cried, desperation ringing in her voice.
“You don’t know the meaning of the word!”
“How would you know? You never stuck around long enough to find out!”
He winced. “All right, Melanie. If you want to go on spinning your little tale, go right ahead.” He released her suddenly, as if the mere touch of her made him ill. Crossing his arms over his chest, he muttered, “Go on. I’m all ears!”
Melanie lifted her chin and fought the tears that kept threatening to spill. “I was pregnant with your child, and my father talked m
e into not telling you.”
“Wonderful guy.”
“He was thinking of you.”
“Sure.”
“He said you weren’t ready to be burdened with a wife and child, that you’d only grow to resent me because you’d have to give up your dream.”
“Are you expecting me to buy any of this?”
“Only if you remember how much I loved you,” she said, fighting fire with fire. His eyes betrayed him. Emotions, long hidden and tortured, showed for one instant, and he was again the vulnerable boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Her heart felt as if it were breaking into a thousand pieces. “I loved you. All I thought about was loving you and living with you for the rest of my life. I—I didn’t mean to get pregnant. It just happened.”
“So you married another man. And Neil was more than happy to play daddy to my kid. Oh, come on, Melanie. This just doesn’t wash.”
“Why else would I marry a man I didn’t love?”
“Money,” he said cruelly, his voice filled with conviction.
“I didn’t care about money. But I wanted a good life for the baby.”
“The baby.” He lifted his hands. “Where is he?”
She swallowed the hot, painful lump in her throat, “I miscarried. Six weeks after I married Neil.”
“Now didn’t that work out fine and dandy?” he mocked, his words cutting to the bone.
She shook her head at the memory. “It was awful—”
“It was a lie. Either you’re lying to me now, or Neil Brooks is a bigger fool than I am for believing you.”
“You think I made this up?”
“I don’t know what to think, Melanie. But you just told me yourself that you couldn’t get pregnant. How do you expect me to believe something as outrageous as this?”
“I didn’t lie. Neil and I couldn’t have children. I—we—after I lost the baby, we never used birth control. And, even though we hoped, there never was another baby.”
“And how does medical science explain this incredible phenomenon?”
“It doesn’t. Neil wouldn’t go to the doctor and . . . well, I didn’t bother. Things started falling apart, and we started sleeping in different rooms.”
“So you’re expecting me to believe that I got you pregnant and you, out of some convoluted sense of nobility, refused to tell me about it but you convinced Neil to marry you and raise another man’s child as his own. Only, lo and behold, before the blessed event occurs, you lose the baby and never, ever conceive again?”
She fought the urge to snap back at him. Instead, curling her fists, she blinked against tears of frustration. “Yes.”
“Well, Melanie, you missed your calling. You shouldn’t have become a photographer. You should be an actress. You’ve just given one helluva performance!”
Melanie’s temper exploded. How could he have become so cruel? So callous? So jaded?
She thought of their recent lovemaking; the scent still lingered in the air. He’d been tender and kind—and now, so heartless. Sick inside, she knew she had to leave. Now. Before whatever they’d shared turned ugly. Without a word, she started gathering her things.
“What’re you doing?”
“Leaving.”
“You can’t leave.”
“Watch me.”
“But it’s freezing, the roads are blocked and—”
“I don’t give a damn about the roads or the weather!” she flung out as she found her camera and purse.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m fucking furious!”
“Just because I didn’t believe your story.”
“Forget it.” She started for the door, but he grabbed her arm, spinning her around.
“You can’t leave,” he said again.
“Let go of me, Gavin.”
“Your car won’t make it.”
“What do you care?” She peeled his fingers from her arm. “I’ll walk if I have to.”
“Melanie—”
She ran out the door and through the now familiar hallways.
The lodge was empty; her footsteps rang on the hardwood. She heard Gavin behind her, but she shoved open the front doors and was blasted with the rush of bitterly cold air.
Snow glistened and still fell in tiny flakes. She nearly slipped on the icy front steps and he caught up with her. “Melanie, listen, I’m sorry.”
“No reason to be!” she snapped, plowing through the snow that nearly hit her at the knees. “You think I’m a liar. Fine. At least I know where I stand.” She plunged on, determined to find a way to leave him.
“For crying out loud, Melanie . . .”
Her Volkswagen, even parked under cover, was under a pile of snow. Ignoring the wind, she brushed the icy flakes from the windshield, climbed into the car and turned the key. The engine ground slowly as she pumped on the gas. “Come on, come on,” she whispered, sending up a silent prayer. She couldn’t stay here a minute longer—she wouldn’t!
Gavin opened the car door as the engine sputtered, coughed and died. “Now, just a minute—”
“Drop dead!”
“Look, I didn’t mean to ridicule you.”
“Well, you did!”
“It’s just that your story is so unbelievable.”
“So you said!” She stomped on the accelerator and twisted the key again. “Come on, come on,” she muttered to the car. Oh, please start! Please!
His jaw worked. He was obviously struggling with his own temper. “Come back into the lodge. I’ll make some coffee and we can talk this over.”
“Just leave me alone! That’s what you’re good at—leaving!”
His lips tightened. “I’m trying, Melanie. Now the least you can do is meet me halfway.”
“After what you said to me? After being accused of being a liar?” She turned furious hazel eyes up to him. “You know me, Gavin. You know I wouldn’t lie about something like this. What would be the point?”
“I thought you needed an excuse for marrying Neil. Something I might understand.”
The car gave a last sickening cough and died. When she turned the key again, all she heard was a series of clicks. Gavin’s hand touched her shoulder. She shrank away.
“I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and I’ll listen to what you have to say. Besides, this car isn’t going anywhere. Even if it did start, you’d never make it through the lot.”
He was right about that. The lot was covered with nearly two feet of snow. The Volkswagen wouldn’t get out of the shed before stopping dead—that was, if she ever could get it started.
“Come on, Mel,” he insisted.
“Forget it! You won’t believe me.”
“I’ll try.” His voice turned gentle. “You threw me for a helluva loop.”
“Then you believe me?” she asked, her features tormented.
He glanced up at the sky, and snow collected in his hair and on his collar. Lines bracketed his mouth and eyes. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“Fine.” She yanked hard on the door, but he wedged himself between the handle and the interior.
“As I said before, you’re not going anywhere in this,” he ordered tautly, taking hold of her and hauling her from the car.
She tried to climb back inside, but he pulled her out, carrying her back to the lodge.
She wriggled and kicked, trying desperately to get back on her feet and find her rapidly escaping dignity. “Put me down! You’ll slip and ruin your ankle and—”
“Be quiet!” he growled, trudging through the snow, following the trail she’d broken only minutes before. “We’re going back inside and you’re going to start over, slowly, from the beginning.”
“If you think I’m going through this again, you’re out of your mind!”
“Probably,” he said. “But I think you owe it to me to—”
“I owe you? Give me a break. I owe you nothing! I shouldn’t have opened my mouth in the first place.”
“But you did,” he reminded her,
slowly climbing the steps and kicking open the front door. He didn’t stop until he’d carried her all the way into his apartment. Plopping her onto the couch, he said, “Now let’s start over.”
“I’ve told you everything.”
“A little late, isn’t it?”
“I explained that I didn’t want to burden you.”
“So very noble of you,” he mocked, trying and failing to keep his temper under control. “So you, pregnant with my child, married Neil Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“And he agreed to go along with your scheme?” he asked dubiously.
“It wasn’t a scheme!”
He shoved shaking hands through his hair. “What I don’t understand, Melanie, is, if this is true, why you didn’t at least have the courage to tell me about it. Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”
“I didn’t want you to feel trapped,” she said, her hands curling into fists of frustration.
“But if I was the father—”
“You know you were!”
“Then the child was my responsibility.”
“A child you didn’t want.”
“It was nice of you to make that decision for me.” He crossed to the window, and anger fairly radiated from him. “If the baby had lived, would you have ever told me the truth?”
She opened her mouth, closed it again and struggled with the truth. When her words came, they sounded strangled. “I—I don’t think so.”
“And why the hell not?” He whirled, facing her again, his temper skyrocketing. His nostrils flared and his eyes blazed.
“Because I wouldn’t want a scene like this one!”
Something flickered in his eyes, something dark and dangerous. “Or because I wasn’t good enough for you?”
“What?”
“Is that why you ran to Neil instead of me? Because you wanted to raise your child—our child—by a rich man instead of the son of the town drunk?”
She couldn’t believe it. Not now. Not after he’d sworn that he would listen to her. “I don’t have to listen to this, Gavin. I loved you. I loved you so much I was out of my mind with wanting you. But I didn’t want to make you hate me for the rest of your life!”
“So you married Brooks in order to pass off my child as his,” he said, disgust heavy in his voice.
“No!”
“This is one for the books—”
