"I'm afraid Shane hasn't been entirely truthful. In fact, he couldn't face a scene with you this morning so I agreed to take the brunt of your hysterics. He left, poor baby. He hates crying women, He'll be back when you're calmed down."
She turned toward the coffee urn and poured herself a cup of coffee. "I told him you were too young and inexperienced to be involved in this little plan of ours, but he felt sorry for you after your house burned down and let his paternal instincts get the better of his good sense. Now, of course, he regrets his generous impulse, but the baby will be born soon and you can go on your way and Shane and I can be married."
Karen's knees gave way and she sank down on a chair, stunned, unable to comprehend what Audrey was saying. What did she mean Shane hadn't been truthful? Why does she say our little plan, as if she had been involved in it, too? If Shane and Audrey were in love why hadn't he married her in the first place?
Audrey sat down across the table from Karen and lit a cigarette as she continued, "I'm sorry—I guess I'm not making much sense to you. You know, of course, that Shane and I are lovers. We want to marry but he has this thing about needing a son to carry on the family business and I—"her voice broke but Karen saw the calculating expression in her eyes—"I was in an accident a few years ago and can never have children."
The words were coming through loud and clear, and Karen couldn't shut them out as Audrey went on. "Actually, it was my idea to pay someone to have his child and give it to him. I didn't see any reason for him to marry the mother, but he wanted the child to be legitimate, so I went along with it. He put the ad in the paper and came up with you."
Karen squirmed in her chair, trying to get away from the hateful, cutting words, but each one found its mark with true precision. Audrey continued to aim them well.
"It was a nuisance when Mark fell in love with you and insisted on protecting your rights with that premarital contract. It made for a lot of haggling that could have been avoided. Both Shane and I knew you had such a crush on Shane that you would give him anything he wanted, even custody of his son as soon as it was born, but Mark interfered and made him agree to let you keep the child for eight years."
She grinned an evil little grin and smirked. "You realize, of course, that the agreement is not legal and Shane has no intention of letting you keep the child? He'll divorce you, but we'll keep the baby."
Rage combined with a touch of hysteria set off fireworks in Karen as she jumped to her feet and shouted, "The devil you will! You're not raising my child! I think you're making all this up because you're jealous!"
"Jealous! Of you?" Audrey laughed and got to her feet, stubbing the cigarette out in the ash tray. "Don't be silly—why should I be jealous of you? All you're going to get out of Shane is a child he won't even let you see and a lot of money. Well, I already have plenty of money, and I'll get the child whether I want it or not. Oh, no, Karen, I'm not jealous of you. If you want the truth, I feel sorry for you."
She turned and walked out of the room.
Karen stood there gaping, turmoil boiling up inside her. Shane had been lying to her all along, playing with her emotions. He'd planned the whole thing with Audrey! His concern for her future, his offer to annul the marriage and send her to school, his unwillingness to take advantage of her innocence—all were part of an act, a means of getting what he wanted from her: a son. He had deliberately used his experience and expertise to inflame her passion and her love. That was the cruelest cut of all. He'd made her fall in love with him, hoping she'd hand over the baby without protest when it was born, and she'd been naive enough to mistake his unbridled lust for the one thing she wanted most—his love. He had no intention of letting her raise her child—not even for eight years. He would marry Audrey and turn their son over to her to raise!
Before Karen could pull herself together and act, Mrs. Whitney came into the room—Mrs. Whitney, in her inevitable dark dress and the sleek heavy chignon at the back of her long slender neck. Karen had never seen her with a wrinkle in her clothes or a hair out of place. She was the perfect housekeeper and her dislike for Karen was so intense that it pulsated through the room when they were alone together as they were now. She said nothing—she never spoke to Karen with disrespect—but her eyes before she turned away were filled with scorn and— ridicule? Karen knew Mrs. Whitney had been listening to Audrey's tirade.
As though a spring had been released in her Karen rushed out of the room and up the stairs. She would never allow Audrey to raise her child! She'd leave, get as far away as she could, someplace where Shane would never find her.
She pulled two suitcases from her closet and packed one with maternity clothes, then took the other one down the hall to the room they had fixed up as a temporary nursery. She paused in the doorway, her eyes blinded by unshed tears. She'd been so touched when Shane had insisted they decorate one of the rooms as a nursery, even though they'd known she and the baby would be there only a short time. He'd even gone with her to pick out baby furniture and had taken such pride in the solid maple Early American-style crib and chest.
The cheat! He'd known all along the baby would be there long after she left! She squared her shoulders and started packing tiny garments. She'd have to hurry. It was vital that she leave before Shane came back and stopped her, but first she had to write a note. She couldn't just walk out and take the chance that he might think she'd been kidnapped, as had happened when his mother left.
Back in her room she sat at her desk and scribbled hastily:
Shane,
Audrey told me everything. After what I saw last night I have no choice but to believe her. I'll never let her raise my child so I'm going away. Please don't try to find me. I'll take good care of the baby. I promise.
I really did love you so much!
She signed it and pinned it to his pillow so he would be sure to find it, then put on her all-weather coat and carried her cases to the top of the stairs.
All was quiet. She lugged the heavy suitcases down the steps and paused; the exertion had caused a painful stitch in her side. There was no one around as she hurried out the door and around to the garage.
Audrey's Ferrari was gone and so was Shane's Cadillac. She breathed a little easier as she put her bags in the trunk of the small compact car that Mrs. Whitney usually drove shopping. It was several years old and a light tan; it looked like thousands of other cars on the California highways.
There were several car keys on her key ring and it took three tries before the engine turned over and she eased the car out of the garage, down the driveway, and onto Seventeen Mile Drive. If she could just get out of Carmel without running into Shane or Audrey. But first she had to stop at the bank.
The late-afternoon rush-hour traffic was the worst Karen had ever experienced and the closer she came to Los Angeles the worse it got. She was tired to the point of exhaustion; her head throbbed and her nerves were shot. It seemed as if she had been strapped into the bucket seat forever. She hadn't stopped the car since she had headed it out of Carmel toward Highway 101 and turned south. That was hours ago and she still had no destination. Her only thought was to put as much distance between herself and Shane as she could before he discovered that she was gone and came after her.
A blaring horn and the screech of brakes jerked Karen's attention back to the road, and she realized that she'd inadvertently crossed the white line into the next lane. That did it! It was time to stop before she caused an accident. Besides, she knew Shane would have the highway patrol looking for her when he realized she wasn't coming back.
An overhead sign above the freeway indicated that the next several turnoffs were to Santa Barbara. Karen began to maneuver the car into the right hand lane so she could take one of the exits. She was only vaguely familiar with Santa Barbara. She'd been there a few times with her parents years ago and remembered being impressed by the palm trees and the Spanish-style architecture of the oceanside city, but now it was a jumble of streets that took off in different di
rections and the traffic made her want to scream with frustration. A lighted sign on the motel up ahead said VACANCY and she turned into the driveway. Right now all she wanted was a bed on which she could lie down and go to sleep.
Morning brought a new day, the second day of Karen's flight. Where was she going and what would she do when she got there? These and other questions ran through her mind as she lay quietly, watching the sun stream through the window and listening to the steady hum of traffic outside her room. She felt disillusioned, bewildered, and lonely. How could she support a child when she couldn't even support herself?
She had five thousand dollars with her—all the money that had been in the bank account Shane had opened for her. It wouldn't keep her for very long, not with hospital expenses to pay. She glanced down at the rings on her hands. Her engagement and wedding bands. Delicate strands of gold set with diamonds. They must be worth a small fortune. A tremor ran through her as she hastily shoved her hands under the covers. In an emergency she could pawn her rings, but it would break her heart. In the meantime, she'd find a small apartment; she couldn't afford twenty dollars a day for a motel room.
Maybe she'd just stay here in Santa Barbara. The climate was ideal and Shane would have no reason to look for her here. She shuddered. It wouldn't be easy to hide from Shane! She remembered the unbelievable lengths he'd gone to to have her investigated before choosing her as the mother of his child. He would be even more ruthless now that she was hiding his baby from him.
If only she weren't so alone! If only there were someone she could turn to, but she couldn't contact anyone she'd ever known. Shane would find them and through them he'd find her and her child. He'd take her baby away from her!
She tossed uncomfortably. She ached in every muscle, probably from sitting in one position on the long drive yesterday. She struggled out of bed and went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and took a warm, pulsating shower. It didn't help much and she crawled back into bed with a sigh. She should get dressed and go out for breakfast, buy a paper and start looking for an apartment, but she just didn't feel up to it. Maybe after another hour or two of sleep…
When she woke again it was eleven o'clock and the ache had settled in her lower back. She shifted position, but it didn't help. She got up and dressed and went in search of a coffee shop. There was one just a few doors down from her motel, and as she picked up the menu she remembered that she hadn't eaten at all yesterday. She shivered. She didn't want to think of yesterday.
The omelette she'd ordered was good but she could hardly sit still. She shifted position as she stood waiting to pay her bill and the woman behind the cashier's counter looked at her with open sympathy and said, "Got much longer to go?"
Karen shook her head. "Only about a month, but it seems like forever."
She paid for her meal and bought a paper, but by the time she got back to her room her stomach was upset and she didn't seem to be able to sit or stand in any position that relieved the pain in her back. She undressed again and went back to bed. Driving so far yesterday must have exhausted her even more than she'd realized—maybe she'd better just rest today and not try to do anything until tomorrow.
She dozed but couldn't get away from the back pain. Maybe if she got up and took an aspirin it would help, but her stomach was so upset that she was afraid to try to swallow anything.
She slept, but woke just in time to make a mad dash for the bathroom, where she was violently ill. She was leaning against the shower stall, fighting the weakness that made the room spin, when a swift, hot thrust of pain in the lower part of her abdomen caused her to cry out and double up, her face contorted in agony.
Realization came and she made her way shakily to the bedside table and picked up the telephone. When the operator answered she said, "This is Karen McKittrick in Room Five. Call a taxi, please, I think I'm about to have my baby!"
What happened after that was a blur. There were waves of pain and people in her room, then the ride in an ambulance with sirens screaming and the hospital emergency room.
Finally, before they could even transfer her to the delivery room, the pain built to a crescendo and she remembered screaming for Shane, then the pain stopped and she heard the shrill cry of an infant. The doctor's smiling face beamed down at her from above and said, "You have a six-and-a-half-pound daughter, Karen, and she seems strong and healthy."
Karen never had a chance to reply as she sank into soft black weightlessness.
The hall outside the nursery was deserted except for an occasional nurse, who walked by on crepe-soled shoes, and Karen, dressed in a flowing pink robe and matching slippers. She stood with her forehead pressed against the window that separated her from the incubator housing her small daughter. Her heart swelled with love as she watched the energetic baby suck on her fist. She was hungry and they would soon bring her to Karen to be nursed.
She shifted her position and rubbed her hand over her flat stomach. She had a waist again and it seemed so good to be able to bend over and put her slippers on. It was great to feel like a woman instead of a baby factory—and that was all she had ever been to Shane.
Karen sighed as her attention once more shifted to the baby. She looked so much like Shane. Her hair and eyes were dark and even at four days she had the same stubborn set of the. jaw as her father. Her father. Karen hunched her shoulders against the anguish the thought of Shane still caused her. It was her own fault. Why did she have to be so stupid? He'd lied to her, cheated her, planned to take her baby away from her, and still she longed for him with an ache that was almost unbearable. She should hate him, but every night she dreamed of his lips on hers, his hands caressing her, his body responding to her with an urgent need, until she woke with tears streaming down her cheeks.
She knew she was doomed to a lifetime of pain because every time she looked at his daughter she would see him. He would have been proud of Shanna—or would he? He had wanted a son—he had made that quite clear. Maybe he wouldn't have wanted this baby after all. She grimaced. That was a premise she couldn't count on. Shane would lodge a full-scale search for her; she'd have to get further away. As soon as she and the baby were stronger they'd go east. Texas, maybe. It wouldn't be easy for him to find her in Texas.
But first she had to get out of the hospital. She was due to be dismissed tomorrow. Mrs. Waverly, the hospital's social worker, had found her a small apartment. Karen had asked for help but told Mrs. Waverly only that she and her husband were separated and that he would not be supporting her. She'd asked that the birth not be publicized and said that under no circumstances were they to contact her husband. She was paying the bill so they were content to allow her to call the shots, but she'd have to leave Santa Barbara soon. She'd given her own name and address to the hospital and she knew it wouldn't take Shane long to find her.
Karen shifted her position again and knew she'd have to return to her room to lie down. Standing still for too long tired her. She whispered "goodbye" through the glass to her daughter and started down the hall. There was a man coming toward her from the opposite end of the long passageway. At first she didn't really notice him but then something made her look again. It was Shane! For just a moment her emotions overruled her good sense and a powerful surge of joy flooded over her. She wanted to run to him, throw herself in his arms, hold him. Then she remembered. He wasn't coming for her—he was going to take her baby!
By this time Shane was sprinting down the hall, closing the gap between them. Karen turned and ran back toward the nursery. She had to protect her child! She'd fight with every bit of her strength to keep him away from her daughter!
Unfortunately, what little strength she had was used up before she'd gone more than a few steps and the walls began to spin as the pounding in her ears became a roar, and if it hadn't been for the strong arms that picked her up and held her against the familiar chest she would have fallen.
As Shane carried her down the corridor she pounded him with her fists and screamed, "No! No! I w
on't let you take my baby! You can't have her! She's mine!"
Shane must have known which room was hers because he quickly turned into it as two nurses ran toward them, attracted by Karen's frantic behavior. They were both yelling at Shane and he turned and glared at them as he said, "I'm Shane McKittrick and Karen is my wife. I'm not going to hurt her; I just want to talk to her. Now if you will please leave I promise we'll call you if we need you."
They looked at Karen, who by this time was completely exhausted and lay quietly in Shane's arms. He looked grim but when he spoke again it was a soft appeal.
"Please. We've had a misunderstanding that has to be straightened out. We need a few minutes alone to talk."
The well-known McKittrick charm worked and the nurses smiled as they turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
Shane sat down in the big armchair and cradled her on his lap. She knew she was beaten. She's used up all her reserves and she couldn't fight him anymore. Her tears came in great wrenching sobs as he rocked her back and forth in his arms. His lips caressed her hair and he was murmuring something to her but she couldn't hear above her wailing.
She was curled up on his lap crying as if her heart would break and his voice was torn with emotion as he said, "Karen, darling, don't cry so hard. You're killing me by inches, do you know that?"
Karen swallowed a sob and looked up at him through pools of tears. He'd aged in the week since she'd last seen him. But how was that possible? He looked older, tired, his face gray and lined. His hair, always immaculately styled, was disheveled and the torment in his eyes matched the torment she saw in her own whenever she looked in a mirror. He'd suffered as much as she had. She'd known he'd be enraged over her leaving but she hadn't realized, that he'd be this concerned about the baby. Any hope she'd had that he might relent and let her raise the child was dashed. He obviously didn't trust her to care for it properly or he wouldn't have suffered so when he thought she'd taken it from him. Well, this was one time she wasn't going to give in to him.
Temporary Bride Page 14
