Detective Daddy

by Mallory Kane

  He’d treated her so badly. He didn’t deserve her love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Ash woke up, it was after six, and he was practically dying of thirst. He looked at the water glass Natalie had left on his nightstand. It was empty, damn it. He didn’t even remember drinking it all.

  He carefully sat up and closed his eyes against the dizziness he felt. After a few seconds, he slid his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

  Without too much trouble, but with stars flashing in front of his eyes, he made it to the kitchen. So that was what Rachel was talking about when she said she saw stars.

  Rachel. A profound sadness enveloped him. He wondered where she was. Still with her mom, probably. That’s where she should be. Her mom would take care of her, support her, go with her to her doctor’s appointments.

  He couldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see him again. After everything that had happened, maybe she’d thought better of including him in her life and the life of her baby—their baby.

  As he stood staring into the refrigerator, the sadness morphed into a gaping emptiness that opened up inside him.

  His parents’ death had left a hole, of course. But over the years he’d filled that hole with anger, with determination, with ambition and, yes, with mindless, carefree fun.

  This emptiness was different. It was hollow and bottomless. He was sure nothing would ever be able to fill it. He splayed his fingers on his chest, where the empty ache was centered, and felt his eyes sting.

  “Get over it, Kendall,” he snapped, doubling his hand into a fist and pounding his chest once. He was just feeling maudlin because he hurt and the pain pill he’d taken six hours before had worn off.

  He grabbed a bottle of water, made his way to the couch, prepared to watch TV until he fell asleep. But all the files from his parents’ murders were still stacked on the coffee table.

  He set the bottle down and eased himself onto the couch, staring at the papers, reading a snatch of printing here and there.

  —in their beds on Christmas morning.

  —tissue and blood under her fingernails.

  —no suspects, no witnesses.

  Ash lay back against the armrest of the couch and closed his eyes. Campbell was dead, Hammond was apparently insane and the person who’d killed his parents was still out there, free.

  And he was right where he’d always been. Alone.

  RACHEL FINALLY MANAGED to convince her mother that she had to get back to work. Her mom, who had picked her up from the hospital after her examination, had held her captive for three days. She’d spent that time feeding her way too much and pulling out baby things she’d saved from Rachel’s infancy. She’d been thrilled by Rachel’s news about her pregnancy.

  Any other time, Rachel would have enjoyed looking at the tiny little knit caps and matching coats, the little booties and all the cute pink tops and bottoms. But as thrilled as she was that her mother was happy about the baby, she was impatient to get back and see how Ash was doing. She’d called the hospital and found out he’d been discharged that morning, but when she tried his number, there was no answer.

  So she’d put her foot down and insisted that her mother take her home.

  “Or I’ll call a cab,” she threatened her. Sure enough that convinced her.

  “A cab to your apartment will cost you two hundred dollars,” her mother protested.

  “At least,” Rachel had said with glee.

  Now she was back home, laden with quarts of her mother’s famous chicken soup and a plastic container full of chocolate brownies.

  She’d called Neil, who’d told her that Ash was at home recuperating. He’d also filled her in on the chief’s arraignment and his plea.

  “Did he say anything about breaking into my apartment?” she’d asked Neil.

  “No. I asked him about that when I was interviewing him, but he acted like he didn’t know anything about it.”

  “What do you think? Was it him?”

  “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. I’m afraid the department shrink is right. She says he’s had a psychotic break.”

  Rachel wondered how the chief’s obsession with protecting his position and reputation had escalated to insanity and murder.

  Now she looked at one container of soup and another of brownies and wondered why she wasn’t already on her way over to Ash’s house.

  Of course, she didn’t have to wonder. She knew. She was afraid to see him. She hadn’t forgotten the sound of the door to his room closing. The way it had echoed in her mind like a prison door, locking her out of his life.

  “I won’t bother you,” he’d said. But it hadn’t been merely his words. It was also the look on his face. She’d never seen him look like that. His green eyes had been flat, almost gray. His face had been without expression and his voice had sounded dead. She’d known that was the end.

  The sound of the door closing had been prophetic. It foretold the end of their relationship.

  But he came to rescue you, her heart argued.

  Right. Just like anyone in danger, her head responded.

  She squeezed her temples between her palms, trying to stop the pointless argument. No amount of arguing or rationalization was going to change the truth.

  She picked up her car keys where she’d tossed them on the kitchen counter and turned to put them in her purse. She looked at them more closely and realized she still had the key to Ash’s house. Maybe she could slip the chicken soup and a few brownies into his refrigerator with a note.

  Just a friendly note, she thought as tears stung her eyes. He’d rescued her. She could do something for him. It wouldn’t mean anything.

  When she got to Ash’s house, she saw that his car was there and a light was on in the living room.

  Was he awake? Maybe she should just leave the soup and brownies on his porch and call him after she got back home.

  Coward. No. She’d knock and go in, give him the food and his key and thank him for saving her life.

  She walked up the steps to the porch and knocked lightly. When no one answered, she used her key. Once inside, she saw Ash asleep on the couch. He was shirtless and she could see the bandage on his side. It was huge.

  Her heart thudded. Just how bad had the gunshot been? She’d called Neil when the hospital wouldn’t tell her anything. He’d said it was practically a flesh wound. But she hadn’t trusted his offhand answer.

  She couldn’t see much of Ash’s face because he had an arm over his eyes. But his body looked thin and vulnerable. He’d always seemed so much larger than life to her. Like a superhero. But not now. Now he looked all too human. Human and breakable. Her throat clogged and her eyes filled with tears. How would she have lived if he’d died?

  How was she going to live without him?

  As she stood there, tears streaming down her cheeks, he stirred, sending her heart rate higher. She needed to set down the food and leave. She took a step and her keys rattled.

  Ash lowered his arm. “Rach?” he whispered, opening his eyes to slits. “Damn it,” he grunted.

  Rachel didn’t say anything. If she stood real still, maybe he’d think he was dreaming and go back to sleep.

  “Is that the baby?” he asked, squinting up at her.

  The baby? He was still asleep, dreaming.

  “No, Ash, it’s just some food. Go back to sleep.”

  “I hope she has your eyes,” he whispered with a little smile as his eyes closed again. “Those weird, beautiful green-and-gold eyes.”

  Rachel’s breath caught in a sob. She wanted to cover her mouth so Ash wouldn’t hear, but her hands were full of soup, brownies and keys.

  “Don’t cry, Rach,” Ash said. He held out a hand. “Come here.”

  She didn’t know what to do except obey him. Carefully, she set the soup and the box of brownies on the end table and placed her keys beside them, then she stepped closer to Ash.

  He caught her hand in his and grunted in pain. She
squeezed his hand. “Are you okay? Are you hurting? Where are your pain pills?”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I’m okay,” he said. “How are you? How’s the baby?”

  She searched his face. “Are you still asleep?” she asked. “Because the baby’s not born yet.”

  He laughed carefully. “I know that.” His hand let go of hers and he touched her stomach. “Hey, baby,” he said. “How’re you doing?”

  Tears streamed down Rachel’s face. She couldn’t tell if Ash was awake or drugged.

  “My mom made you some chicken soup,” she whispered through her tears. “And brownies.”

  “Mmm.” His eyes closed again. “I like the things your mom makes. She made you.”

  Rachel brushed away the tears and took his hand again. “Ash, you need to wake up. I don’t know what you took, but I don’t like how you’re acting.”

  He tugged on her hand and whispered something she didn’t understand.

  “What?” she asked, leaning closer.

  He whispered again, but she still didn’t catch it.

  “Ash, I can’t hear you.”

  He tugged on her hand again, so she leaned down close to his lips.

  “What?” she whispered.

  His other hand caught the back of her head and he kissed her. She gasped, surprised, and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “You want to know what I said?” he asked in a very low voice, his lips moving against hers.

  She nodded, her breath catching at the feel of his mouth on hers, at his warm, soft breath drifting across her sensitive lips.

  “I said when I opened my eyes, I thought you were a dream, my dream angel, come to watch over me. And I thought you were holding our baby.”

  Rachel’s breath caught in a sob again.

  “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve made you cry, and I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with me, but—” He cradled her head and kissed her again. She kissed him back. It was a heartbreaking kiss. Everything she desired in the world was there in his kiss. If only he’d give it to her.

  “Can I ask you something?” he whispered.

  “Sure,” she said. “Anything.”

  “Will you forgive me enough to let me be a part of our baby’s life?”

  Her heart soared. “Of course. I would never keep you from her.”

  “Her?” He lifted his head, wincing. “Her?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but it feels like a girl to me.”

  “Wow,” he whispered, moving his lips erotically against hers again. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” she asked, unsure of what he meant.

  “Will you let me be a part of your life, too?”

  Rachel blinked. “I—don’t understand.” She held her breath and waited to see what he said.

  “Will you marry me?”

  Rachel sat up straight. “What?”

  “Ow. Careful!” he said, a pained smile on his face. “I’m a little sore.”

  “Oh, Ash, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he muttered. He pushed himself carefully to a sitting position with a lot of grunts and groans.

  Rachel felt helpless, watching him hurt so much just moving, but when she tried to help him, he only shook his head.

  Once he was sitting up, she noticed that his face had drained of color. “Maybe you should lie down again,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, I will in a minute. As soon as you answer me.”

  “An-answer you?”

  “Rach, I want to marry you.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said hoarsely, pressing her hand to her throat. It felt like her heart was lodged there.

  He brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “Yes, I do. More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

  She shook her head.

  “Rach, I know what I want. Stop being so stubborn for once and just listen—” He stopped, gasping for breath. “Whew. I can’t believe how weak I am.”

  “Ash, please lie down. If you pass out and fall off the couch—”

  His eyes darkened. “I’m not going to pass out. I just need a straight answer. Will you marry me?”

  She stared at him. “But you’re Ashanova.”

  He grimaced. “I really hate that name. You know what name I like? Rachel Kendall.”

  Rachel’s heart felt bruised. Watch out, she warned herself. He’s hurt and medicated. He can’t be thinking straight. But she couldn’t resist saying the name out loud. “Rachel Kendall,” she whispered.

  “Mrs. Ashton Kendall,” he said, smiling. But almost as quickly as his smile grew, it faded. He took her hand in his and placed it on his chest.

  “Feel that?” he asked her.

  “Your heart?”

  “It’s been empty for so long. I never trusted love. Never believed in forever. And I know I don’t deserve you, but I—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I love you, Rachel. You have filled my empty heart.”

  His words filled hers, so full she was afraid it might burst. “I love you, too,” she said, “more than you’ll ever know.”

  “I know.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him again. Then she gingerly laid her head on his bare chest and closed her eyes, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat as he caressed her hair.

  After a few moments she heard another sound. She giggled.

  “Rach? What?” he asked drowsily.

  “Your stomach’s growling,” she said, moving to stand up. “I’ll warm you some soup,” she said.

  “Not yet. I want to hold our baby.”

  “Hold?”

  Ash reached out and put his hand on her stomach. She smiled and laid her hand over his.

  “Do you talk to her?” he asked.

  Rachel nodded. “All the time.”

  “Is it okay if I do?”

  “Of course,” she said, her heart expanding with love for him.

  His mouth widened in a heartbreaking smile. Then he looked down at her stomach. “Hi, baby,” he said softly, his eyes glistening. “You don’t know me yet but I’m your daddy.”

  Special thanks and acknowledgment to Mallory Kane for her

  contribution to the Situation: Christmas series.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1252-7

  DETECTIVE DADDY

  Copyright © 2011 by Harlequin Books S.A.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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