He stopped walking. Sydney didn’t notice right away and he stood on the wide, flat beach watching her sashay along ahead of him. She was totally unaware of what she did to him. Well, maybe not totally, but darn near. He’d bet she had no clue as to how desperately he yearned to take back to the house, to a quiet room with a soft bed and even softer sheets. He’d strip that fluttery dress off and lay her down—
“Danny?”
She had turned and was watching him quizzically. He hoped she would keep her eyes on his face or she would know what direction his thoughts had gone. Quickly, he lengthened his stride and caught up with her. Forget it, he told himself. The last thing he needed was to get any more involved with Sydney Aston, either physically or emotionally. Caring led inevitably to pain, sooner or later. But the reminder sounded hollow and cowardly.
“Sorry,” he said. “Guess I was daydreaming. Tell me more about Nick.”
She shrugged. “I think I mentioned just about everything he’s involved in— Oh, wait, I almost forgot. He belongs to a boy’s club at our church. Several of the little boys from his Sunday-school class are in it. They meet for an hour on Tuesday evenings and have a blast.” She grimaced. “It gets interesting sometimes when he needs help with a project.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the go-cart derby. Or a recent one involving making a simple rocket ship.” She shook her head, laughing. “My mechanical and technical skills are sadly lacking, so he’s at a real disadvantage compared to some of the other little boys whose fathers have woodworking setups in their garages.”
“Isn’t there anyone close who could help?”
She nodded. “My dad occasionally comes down if there’s something big he can help Nick put together. And the guy next door is a mechanic. He volunteered to help out if we ever need him.”
He wondered if the guy next door was married. “What else do they do? Do they go camping like Scouts do?”
“They do. And they work on service projects around the community. In April, we picked up litter at a local park. Last month, we held an ice-cream social for the residents of a nursing home. The boys even helped churn the ice cream.” She shook her head, still smiling. “That was a tough one for Nick since he can’t eat ice cream.”
“Because of his lactose intolerance.”
“Right. Dairy products give him terrible stomach pains.”
Danny felt a chill ripple down his spine, totally unexpected in the tropical air. He’d almost forgotten what she’d said about that—probably on purpose. He almost missed a step, but focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other, to walk along the beach as if what she’d just said had no import.
“He drinks soy milk,” she went on, “and usually doesn’t seem to miss the whole dairy thing. It’s a small price to pay for feeling good, especially after the other things he’s been through.”
“Other things?” His voice sounded very cool and calm, as if some other person were speaking. But when he looked down, his hands were shaking, and he balled them into loose fists before she could comment.
She nodded in response to his question. “I noticed very early on that he sometimes looked a little…gray after any kind of exertion. Twice right after Margo left, he got so short of breath I almost called an ambulance. When I finally realized she wasn’t coming back, I took him to a pediatrician one of my co-workers recommended. He had a complete physical. And that’s when I found out Nick had a heart defect.”
A heart defect. “What kind?” His voice was so hoarse he had to clear his throat and repeat the words. Congenital heart defects ran in his family. His father had lived with one undetected most of his life, but had had a brother who had died young. And Jackson Reiss, Danny’s recently discovered half brother, had a son who’d been diagnosed with the same disorder.
Sydney glanced at him. “Are you all right?”
He nodded, not even trying to speak again.
“It’s a congenital malformation,” she said, “that’s usually inherited. Often there are no visible symptoms. Apparently healthy young adult men just keel over, like that ice skater did ten years ago. But Nick had an additional complication that caused him to have trouble even as an infant. It’s another reason I don’t think he was Margo’s biological child. I can’t believe she wouldn’t have noticed and had it corrected if he really were hers. The doctor said he really should have had surgery months ago and that he was lucky to have survived this long. Danny?”
“Noah had a heart problem,” he said. “I’m sure—was sure—he couldn’t have lived very long without surgery.” God, was it possible? What Sydney had just described sounded extremely similar to his family’s genetic heart ailment.
Sydney put a hand to her heart, and he could see a rapid pulse fluttering beneath the fragile skin of her throat. “So Nick really could be Noah.” Her face had lost whatever color it had had. “I thought he might be,” she said, and her voice was quavery, “and I thought I was prepared, but…” Tears welled in her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to dredge a hidden core of steel from beneath her soft exterior. “We need to have a DNA test done,” she said. “We probably could compare the medical records and his blood type, but I’d rather just do the DNA test. And then we’d never have any doubts.”
A DNA test. His heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it were going to leap right out of his chest and take off down the beach. He couldn’t breathe. This child—her child—wasn’t his. Was he? He couldn’t be.
Could he?
“Sit down,” Sydney said, tugging on his arm.
They both sat side by side on the warm sand, looking out over the ocean. But Danny wasn’t seeing ocean. In his mind’s eye, a chubby baby staggered toward him, a baby who’d just begun to walk alone. Two tiny, pearly white teeth on both top and bottom gleamed as he grinned.
He dropped his head onto the arms he’d crossed over his drawn-up knees, feeling unmanly tears stinging his eyes. At his side, Sydney placed a palm in the middle of his back and rubbed a small, soothing circle over and over again.
He pressed his forehead hard against his arms. God, he wanted so badly to believe it was possible. But what if he got his hopes up and then learned Nick Aston wasn’t his? It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before, he reminded himself. And he couldn’t go through it again.
Aloud, he said, “It’s got to be a coincidence. Just like the lactose thing.”
He’d forgotten he hadn’t said anything about that, but Sydney was quick. “Noah was lactose intolerant, too?”
He swallowed and nodded without lifting his head.
“Danny, we have to have a test done.” Her voice was insistent. “Don’t you want to know?”
He shrugged. “I already know.”
But did he? What if— No. Noah wasn’t alive and well and in Sydney’s capable hands. Of all the fates that he’d agonized over his son suffering, living in happy comfort hadn’t been one of them.
But he was going to have to have this testing done, if only to convince Sydney that he wasn’t the father of her child. “All right,” he finally said. He lifted his head and met her gaze, and saw that she had tears running down her cheeks. The lump he’d swallowed rose again and he had to take a deep breath before he could speak further. “I’ll have the testing done. Let me make some calls. We can probably get them done without much of a wait.”
It would make Sydney feel better, he told himself. She honestly believed she had his son. He’d humor her until he could prove that she was wrong, as he knew she must be.
But the tiny flame of hope that had been lit inside him was impossible to extinguish.
Eight
He didn’t invite her to dine with him that evening.
When Sydney walked into the kitchen, Leilani pointed to a small patio just beyond the breakfast nook, one she’d never used before. “I feed you there tonight.”
“Thank you.” She tried not to mind. She wasn’t an invited guest and she knew she’d intruded in
to the quiet, predictable world Danny had built for himself. And she’d gotten what she came for, in any case, during those emotional moments on the beach earlier. He might say he didn’t believe her but now at least he was willing to concede it was a possibility.
She felt tears well again in her eyes at the mere thought of the devastation she’d witnessed on Danny’s face. Dear God, how did anyone live through the death of a child? And in his case, it was even worse because his son had simply vanished. Torn from the fabric of their lives without any warning. She thought of what Danny had told her about his troubled life. She’d never felt the least bit suicidal but she wasn’t sure how she’d feel if something happened to Nick. She couldn’t assign blame to Felicia Crosby for not wanting to live, she told herself firmly.
Still, she knew deep in her heart that she could never do that to those who loved her. Especially if she had a loving husband who was grieving as well. Hadn’t Felicia known how badly Danny needed her?
She sighed. Perhaps she simply hadn’t been able to deal with anything but her own pain.
Dinner was as lovely as always, and the little terrace had its own striking view of the sea. But her aching heart interfered with her enjoyment of her last night in Hawaii, and as soon as she’d finished eating, she returned to her room to get her things organized again for her departure from the island. Her flight left early in the morning and Johnny would be taking her to the airport shortly after sunrise.
It was too quiet in the big house. She was still troubled by the events of the afternoon. Danny had looked so shaken. So sad. She hated that she was the one who’d made him feel that way again. Who’d made him think of what he’d lost.
Still, he was going to get it back. Why couldn’t he see that? After what he’d told her, there was no doubt anymore in her mind that she was the mother of Noah Crosby.
She couldn’t bear thinking about it all anymore, and she snapped on the television, hunting for something to occupy her mind. Music videos. She stopped at that channel, letting the music wash over her. They were doing a special on songs with romantic themes, many of which had soft, dreamy melodies and close harmonies, and as she folded the clothing she needed to return to Leilani, she sang softly.
Someone rapped on her open bedroom door.
Sydney stifled a startled cry as she whirled. Danny stood framed in the doorway, a crooked smile quirking his lips.
“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s all right.” She let out her breath on a sigh.
“I, uh, came to tell you that I’ve arranged the testing.”
Her eyes widened. “That was fast.”
He nodded. “How does the day after tomorrow sound to you? I made a reservation for myself on your flight back to Portland and we can have the testing done at a lab there.”
“Oh, my.” She dropped the muumuu she was folding. The day after tomorrow…? And if the results were what she expected, what she was certain they would be, what then? Would she just hand her son over to his birth father and walk away? Everything in her rejected the idea, but the bottom line was that she had no claim to Danny’s son. Other than the fact that she’d been his adoptive mother for nearly four years and she loved him desperately. The thought was so devastating she couldn’t process it.
“All right.” Her voice wavered. “I have a sample of Nick’s hair you can take with you.”
“Hey.” He crossed the room in three long strides and picked up the muumuu before she could even command her body to retrieve it. When she made no move to take it, he let it drop into a colorful puddle on the bed. “This is what you wanted, remember?” His voice was gentle. She noticed he didn’t say it was what he wanted, just as he’d carefully avoided voicing any hope that Nick might be his son.
She nodded, unable to speak for the lump that clogged her throat again.
Silence fell between them. The muted music from the television played softly and she felt the tears she’d been trying to hold back escape and begin rolling down her cheeks.
“Aw, Sydney, don’t.” Danny took a step closer and then she felt his hands on her body, urging her into his arms. He pulled her close, drawing her into his lap as he settled on the edge of her bed.
She closed her eyes and clasped her arms around his neck, turning her head into his neck as he began to rock her. Slowly, they swayed back and forth, barely moving, his body brushing tantalizingly against hers. It was a moving embrace and she responded to it, letting herself relax and savor the moment.
Danny drew her even closer to him. One hand slid more firmly around her back, holding her against him so that she became vividly aware of his hard thighs beneath her bottom. The other hand slid down her back and around to her hip, shaping and smoothing the curve he found there. He felt good against her, strong and firm and all male, and she pressed herself against him without thought, feeling only how right it was. How right they were together.
“Sydney.” Danny bent his head and whispered her name against her ear. The moist heat of his breath brushing over the sensitive shell made her shiver, a sheerly sexual thrill running through her. She knew what he wanted and because she wanted it, too, she raised her head.
He kissed her the moment her face turned up to his, sliding his lips onto hers so gently that one moment they weren’t kissing, the next they were. He shaped her mouth with care, his tongue doing a stealthy, sensual dance around and over the closed line of her lips until she allowed him a deeper foray and followed his lead. The moment changed, lazy and gentle giving way to more demanding passion, arms shifting and clutching, mouths seeking, bodies straining.
Suddenly Danny tore his mouth from hers. “Wait,” he gasped. “We are not doing this.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”
Yes. She had to. She’d never wanted so badly to ignore her responsibilities and simply live in the moment. But she couldn’t.
There was a tense silence.
She rose and walked around the bed to pick up the clothing she’d been folding when he walked in. She drew a deep breath. “I am,” she said.
Danny looked at the floor. Every line of his big body was tense and she could almost feel the desire ricocheting around the room. His pants molded to his strong thighs and she swallowed, seeing the evidence of his need for her that he couldn’t hide. She should be thanking him for stopping, but it was all she could do not to rush across the room and plaster herself to him, fit herself against him, shed her clothes and beg him to take her.
She gritted her teeth and stood rooted to the floor, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. After a moment, she heard his footsteps retreating and the door gently clicking shut.
She knew an instant sense of loss when she opened her eyes the next morning. Early-morning light was flooding the room and she suddenly remembered that today was the day she was leaving. Misery threatened to sweep her feet right out from beneath her, but she stiffened her resolve and rose. Some things just weren’t meant to be. Danny was never going to let himself feel, love, live again. She had to accept that.
With necessary haste, she showered, dressed and finished packing her things.
Finally, there was nothing left to do but go.
Danny stood at the foot of the stairs as she descended. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, smiling at him as impersonally as she could, trying desperately to be friendly but not familiar. “Johnny already got my bags.”
Danny nodded. But he didn’t quite meet her eyes as he stepped back to allow her to precede him out the door. Then, just as she was about to slide onto the ATV for the ride down to the dock, he touched her arm. Barely touched her arm, she noticed, and then withdrew his fingers as if she’d burned him.
“It’s not you,” he said quietly. “I hope you know that. But I stopped feeling a long time ago.” He made a short, choppy gesture. “And I don’t want to change.”
She positioned herself on the vehicle and looked straight ahead. “I ha
ven’t asked you to change.” I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Danny hesitated for a moment, but when she didn’t speak or look at him, he climbed on in front of her. As he kicked the ATV into gear, she was forced to put her arms around him to hang on. The urge to give in to the tears was strong, and she had to fight not to simply lay her cheek against his back and sob.
But he’d made it more than clear that he wasn’t interested, that his apparent interest would have been nothing more than simple sex to him. Oh, she was probably wrong about that. It wasn’t simple at all. Danny had been dealt more heartbreak in one lifetime that any person deserved, and she knew why he didn’t want to be interested, even if there had been sparks between them.
Sparks? More like fifty-foot-high flames.
Nevertheless, if he wanted to pretend theirs was no more than a casual attraction, easily forgotten, there was nothing she could do to change his mind.
Making love with Danny would have been far more than casual to her. She resolutely refused to think about exactly what it could have been. It didn’t matter anymore.
Sydney sat beside him on the flight back to the mainland. But she might as well have been at the other end of the plane, Danny decided. She responded when he spoke to her, but otherwise, she appeared to be totally unaware of his presence. The special connection they’d shared on the island might never have been.
It was just as well, he reminded himself. He didn’t need, didn’t want any emotional entanglements. He would go to Portland with Sydney, have this DNA test and show her that her child couldn’t possibly be his son. Then he’d come back to his quiet island, where one day flowed into another with barely a ripple and nothing disturbed the peace he’d found there.
Then he thought of the way Sydney had looked in the lamplight last night, her eyes deep pools of heat. He thought of the silky feel of her skin, the fresh scent of her hair, the soft little sounds she made deep in her throat when he touched her. He thought of the way her understanding presence soothed the raw spots that still oozed inside him. His chest felt tight and he put up an uncertain hand to massage the area right over his heart.
The Homecoming Page 10
