Yes. She'd already figured that out. He was still in the me-Tarzan mode, and it would take too much energy to convince him otherwise. Besides, she really didn't want to spend the night alone in the house. Even Rick's presence was preferable to that.
"You can stay in the guest room," she offered.
Natalie almost slipped into perfect-hostess mode and offered to locate him pajamas or something, but that only stirred a thought that Rick probably wasn't the type. She would bet her favorite antique Irish sideboard that he slept bare-butt naked.
Oh, that conjured up yet another unwanted image.
Rick, naked on her pearl-colored Egyptian cotton sheets.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Since Natalie had no idea what had prompted that question, and since she was having a lot of trouble focusing, she just waited for him to explain.
"You were staring at me."
Ah. So she was. "I'm exhausted," she said as if that clarified everything.
He flexed his eyebrows, and she wanted to wince. It was hard to BS a man like Rick.
"One way or another, even if it drives us crazy," he said turning away from her and heading toward the guest room, "we'll get through this."
It sounded like a promise, but Natalie had no idea how he could keep it. The only thing they could possibly do was work to solve the riddle of what'd happened to them. Once they had the culprit identified and behind bars, then they could begin to deal with everything else.
"I don't hate you, Rick," she told him. Why, she didn't know. Maybe because after all his help, she felt guilty about the animosity between them.
He stopped. Didn't move. He just stood there with his back to her. "I don't hate you, either." Rick turned slightly and looked at her over his shoulder. "But that's not necessarily a good thing."
With that, he went into the guest room. Natalie stood there a moment and watched as he shut the door between them.
He was right again, of course. It would be easier with the hatred. But they'd have to put their hostility aside while they worked together.
And while they spent the night together under the same roof.
Without the hatred, the old temptations would be there. They couldn't give in to them.
Not ever.
That promise to David had sealed their fates and their futures.
Natalie went into her room and locked the door. It seemed an unnecessary and perhaps even small-minded gesture, but after everything that had happened, she wanted to take every security measure she could take.
The fatigue began to consume her as she dressed for bed, and she figured she would get some sleep whether her mind cooperated or not. However, she still needed to make that call to the caterer, and that had to come before bed.
She searched through the phone book, located a business number for Antoine Dupree. She dialed the number, but he obviously wasn't in. There wasn't even an answering machine or service. So, speaking with the man was yet something else that would have to wait until morning.
Surrendering to the fatigue, Natalie started toward her bed. However, before her head could hit the pillow, the phone rang. She hurried across the room to answer it. It was Kitt.
"Glad you're finally home," Kitt said. "I've been worried about you."
"And I was worried about you." Natalie almost hated to bring up Dr. Benjamin, but it was necessary. After all, according to Macy, Kitt was part of Dr. Benjamin's project as well. After she told her, she asked, "You aren't pregnant or anything—"
"No. God, no. I took a pregnancy test, and I'm definitely without child. Maybe Dr. Benjamin decided that I wasn't one of the Cyrene Project's success stories. I told you that 4.0 grade-point average would come back to haunt you. You should have partied and cut classes like I did."
Natalie tried to smile. Failed. "How's Mom?"
Silence.
Natalie didn't have any adrenaline left in her body, but she forced herself to reach for her clothes so she could make the trip to her mother's house.
"Don't come back over here tonight," Kitt insisted, obviously knowing what Natalie was about to do. "You already have enough to deal with, and besides I have everything under control."
"Then why the silence?"
"Because you're not going to like what I have to tell you." Kitt paused. "After chatting with her, I'm getting ready to leave. I'm going to check her into the hospital where she'll have a full psychiatric evaluation in the morning."
Natalie sat down in the chaise near the phone. The hospitalization was necessary, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.
Sweet heaven.
Everything in her life had been turned upside down.
"I talked with a doctor—not Dr. Benjamin," Kitt quickly added. "And it's possible that Macy is experiencing some kind of psychotic break. It might be something simple—like all those herbs and tonics she's always taking. Or it might be something more serious. Anyway, she needs to be hospitalized so they can run some tests."
Natalie couldn't dispute any of that. Though she was furious with her mother for all the lies, she couldn't just turn her back on Macy. "Give me the name of the hospital, and I'll visit her in the morning."
More silence from Kitt. "Uh, that's probably not a very good idea."
Natalie tried to think of a reason her sister would say that, but other than the additional stress of such a visit on the baby, Natalie couldn't think of one. "Why not?"
"Because before I came downstairs to call you, Macy said some things."
"What things?"
Kitt mumbled something. Something that indicated she didn't want to be the messenger for this particular revelation. "Look, I'm not even sure where Macy got her information or even if it's true. You know how mixed-up things are right now. Why don't we put this discussion on hold until I've had time to check things out?"
Natalie huffed. She didn't intend to beat around the bush. "Yes, I know things are mixed up, and I also know you're stalling. Tell me what Mom said. I'm a big girl, and I don't need to be protected."
"Okay, but brace yourself." Kitt added her own huff and a few more seconds of hesitation. "Macy said someone wants Rick and you dead."
Chapter Seven
A fish-out-of-water analogy came to mind as Rick looked around the guest room.
The place was really a guest suite with a sitting area and an adjoining bathroom. All three areas were decorated in varying shades of white and beige with lots of marble, granite and milky glass tiles to separate the rooms. It looked like something right out of a decorating magazine. A far cry from the modest house that he'd bought as a fixer-upper and hadn't yet quite gotten around to the fixing part.
For some reason, despite its too-perfect appearance, the suite felt like Natalie.
Not exactly a comforting thought.
But then, Rick hadn't thought for one minute that he could put Natalie out of his mind tonight. She was just up the hall, two doors down. In the very room where they'd apparently had sex. No. There wasn't a snowball's chance in Hades of his forgetting that.
Or her.
Still, he hadn't had a choice about staying at her house. After the SUV incident and Macy's bombshell about the Cyrene Project, Natalie was in no shape to be left alone.
He sank down onto the foot of the bed and took out his phone. He called his uncle Carlton, the only relative he had left alive. After what Macy had told them, it made Rick wonder if Carlton knew about the Cyrene Project. His uncle had certainly never mentioned it, and they'd had some long, soul-searching chats. Which meant Carlton had likely been kept in the dark. That made sense. His parents probably didn't want a lot of people to know they'd gotten involved in such a stupid experiment.
An experiment that had apparently severed a relationship between his mother and Carlton.
Strange.
If Dr. Benjamin hadn't come into their lives, Carlton might have ended up being his father. And that would have been fitting since Carlton was far more of a dad to him than his own father
had been.
How had Carlton reacted to being dumped? Had he held it against Rick's parents? If so, he hadn't shown it.
Because Carlton and he were close, Rick had no plans to deliver the news of Natalie's pregnancy over the phone. But he did want to let his uncle know that he wouldn't be at the shop for the next few days. The timing couldn't have been worse, since he was already behind in work orders, but he'd just have to let his head mechanic take over for a while. Rick's first priority had to be Natalie and the baby.
"The baby," he repeated under his breath.
And he wondered how many times he would have to say it before it didn't sound so foreign. Maybe it would never feel natural, but he refused to believe that. Other men had faced fatherhood. Perhaps not under these exact circumstances. But they'd faced it since the beginning of time. He was a strong guy with a solid business and an equally solid foundation in life. This was not going to kick his butt.
He hoped.
But he did feel a lurch in his stomach when he thought about trying to hold a newborn in his calloused hands.
He was so in trouble here.
Carlton didn't answer either his home or cell phones so Rick left a message on his voice mail.
Rick checked the time. It was nearly 9:00 p.m. Hardly the ideal hour to be calling his doctor, but he was anxious to get the results of the lab tests, and he was equally anxious to keep his mind occupied so he'd stop thinking about all the things that were making him crazy.
He located Dr. Macomb's number in his phone book and worked his way to an employee at an answering service that he finally convinced to transfer his call to the doctor's home.
Rick was still waiting on hold when there was a small tap at the door.
"It's me," he heard Natalie say.
Oh, man.
This couldn't be good. He knew for a fact that Natalie was too exhausted and not inclined for a social visit. Plus, she would probably do just about anything to avoid seeing him tonight. She'd no doubt had her fill of him. So, that meant this was important.
"Come in," Rick invited.
She did. Natalie opened the door and peeked inside, probably to make sure he was dressed. Only when she was certain of that, did she step inside. She didn't come close. In fact, she stood mere inches away from the hall and a good twenty feet away from him.
Yet, it felt very close.
She wore a deep-purple gown and matching robe. Silk. The outfit skimmed along her entire body, stopping just above her bare ankles and feet. Not provocative, exactly.
Okay, it was provocative.
He could see the outline of nipples and the sweet curves of her hips. Not a waif's body. A woman's body.
And his male body reacted in a bad male sort of way. That reaction stopped, however, when he noticed the concern on her face.
"You're on the phone," she commented, and she turned as if to leave.
"I'm on hold, waiting for my doctor. I'm hoping the lab results are back." Rick paused. When Natalie didn't say anything, he gave her the prompt that she seemed to be waiting for. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer right away. She adjusted the sash of her robe; it really didn't need an adjustment. it was tied snugly around her waist.
"Kitt just called," she explained. Natalie's forehead bunched up.
Yep. He was right. This was bad news, and Rick tried to prepare himself for it. However, he wasn't sure he was ready for anything else to go wrong.
"Kitt is taking my mother to the hospital because she seemed disoriented. They're going to do a physical and a psychiatric evaluation on her in the morning."
Okay. That wasn't quite as bad as he'd imagined. In fact, it was expected and even welcomed because he'd been worried about Macy and wanted her to get whatever help she needed. Still, it was obvious Natalie was having a little trouble dealing with it. No surprise there. This was her mother, and despite the vast differences in their personalities, and the lies that were just revealed, Natalie loved Macy.
"It's for the best," he tried to reassure her.
She nodded. "I know."
That calmly delivered I know caused him to get to his feet. "What else happened?"
Natalie opened her mouth. Closed it. Shook her head. "Macy told Kitt that someone wants to kill us."
"Hell."
Rick didn't know if the entire world was against them, or if it simply felt that way. If he hadn't been holding his phone, he would have thrown his hands in the air.
He wasn't sure which way to go with this, so he took the direct approach. "And did Macy have any details about this particular threat?"
"No. I'm not even sure she knows what she's saying. You saw what happened at her house."
Rick agreed. Macy obviously had problems thinking clearly. Still, he wasn't ready to dismiss anything just yet.
Obviously, neither was Natalie.
Rick almost went to her. To reassure her. To comfort her. After all, they'd already had a hugging session today, and one more probably wouldn't hurt.
But he stayed put.
Because he knew that probably wouldn't hurt was pure BS. In the long run, maybe even the short run, it would hurt.
"I just wanted you to know what Macy said," Natalie added. She made a vague motion in the direction of her room. She had already turned to walk away when Rick finally heard the doctor's voice on the other end of the line.
"Rick," Dr. Macomb said. "I was about to call you."
"With good news, I hope."
"Afraid not. I've already made some calls and have a colleague looking into the matter, but I don't think it's going to help."
Rick didn't even bother to groan or curse. He waited for the doctor to continue.
"Your blood samples and your lab results have simply disappeared."
* * *
WHILE Natalie waited on hold for her sister, she prayed for a change of luck. Heaven knew, Rick and she could use some sort of intervention, either divine, cosmic or otherwise. So far, nothing had gone their way. Fortunately though, that might all change after they spoke to Dr. Benjamin.
And they were within minutes of doing that.
Well, she hoped so.
Natalie had confirmed with a call that Dr. Benjamin was at his office. She thought that odd for a Sunday, but according to the doctor's answering service, he worked seven days a week. That was lucky for them because they knew where he was, and Rick was driving in that direction while he was on the phone with someone at the lab who was trying to locate his missing results.
She wanted to believe the missing lab tests were a coincidence. Ditto for the SUV. Ditto for her mother's thin grip on reality. But unfortunately, too many coincidences meant they probably weren't coincidences at all. And more, everything kept pointing to the culprit as Dr. Benjamin and his wretched Cyrene Project.
"Natalie," she finally heard her sister say. "The psychiatrist can't say for sure, but she thinks Mom might have some kind of chemical imbalance."
Natalie released the breath she'd been holding. "Good. That's a start." A chemical imbalance seemed a lot less serious than some of the alternatives—Alzheimer's or insanity. "Remember not to let Dr. Benjamin anywhere near her."
"Agreed. After what you told me about him, I don't want him on the same planet as us." Kitt cursed. "I can't believe he's that much of a psycho."
Psycho or obsessed. Or both. Either way, it had spelled trouble for them.
"How are you doing?" Kitt asked her.
Natalie understood that her sister's question encompassed more than just her well-being. It went much deeper than that. "It's going to take a while to come to grips with everything."
"Yeah. I know." Kitt paused. "And how's Rick handling this?"
As if he sensed that he was now part of their discussion, Rick glanced at her and lifted his left eyebrow.
"He's…good," Natalie said.
"Good?" Kitt repeated. "I doubt that. You two are probably at each other's throats by now."
"Not even close."
Already, she could feel herself being drawn back to him. Not just in a sexual way, either. Though that was there. But she was drawn to him in another way as well. In a way more intimate than sex.
Natalie would make sure that feeling didn't grow.
This was a nip-it-in-the-bud situation.
She'd made a promise to a dying man, and she intended to keep it.
She also intended to do whatever it took to regain control of her life. That started with answers.
"Kitt, I know you're busy with Mom, but I need you to do me a favor."
"Sure. What?"
"Could you try to contact Antoine Dupree? That's the caterer Mom hired for my party."
"Yeah. I remember the guy. He was prissy. And he wore red cowboy boots. He showed up that morning, barked out a few orders, fussed about some flower arrangements, and I didn't see him again."
Natalie tried to choose her words carefully so she wouldn't unnecessarily alarm her sister. "Did it seem as if he had a hidden agenda in being there?"
"What Natalie wants to know—did he drug us?" Rick clarified in a loud enough voice for Kitt to hear. He was obviously on hold with his own call, and since this had become a three-way conversation, Natalie clicked on the speakerphone function.
"I don't know about the drugging or the hidden agenda, but I'll check on Dupree," Kitt volunteered. "I'll also ask about his staff. Come to think of it, I'm a little suspicious about the big bartender with the shaved head."
That grabbed Natalie's attention. "What about him?"
"Well, for one thing, he didn't know a lot about mixing drinks. That's a major liability for a person in his trade. I also noticed him talking on his cell phone a few times. I didn't think much about it that night, but it might mean something."
Yes. It might mean they were on the right track to finding the culprit. Of course, it could be the bartender was just a lousy employee who liked to make personal calls during business hours.
"Get me this guy's name, Kitt," Rick insisted.
"Give me an hour," Kitt said confidently.
Natalie knew it wasn't overconfidence. Her sister was a genius at that sort of thing. In fact, if Kitt hadn't been so tied up with Macy's health crisis, Natalie would have wanted her sister to sit in on this meeting with Dr. Benjamin.
Covert Conception Page 6
