Triplets for the Texan

by Janice Maynard

  She shrugged. “I don’t know about this one.”

  “Then for God’s sake, don’t take any chances,” he said. He filched the mushroom and popped it into his mouth. Fortunately, the rest of her choices were winners.

  The food was excellent, but he knew he was in trouble when just watching her eat made him hard again. Soft lips. Small white teeth. Lord help him. Simone was oblivious to his mood, her gaze tracking various couples on the dance floor. She named them off one by one.

  “How do you do that?” he asked. “Isn’t the whole point of a masquerade ball anonymity? I know I’ve been away a long time, but I only managed to spot a few people I could identify for sure.”

  “I cheated,” she confessed. “I was the one who processed all the names and built the spreadsheet. Even with everyone wearing masks, I think I could name most of them.”

  “My hat’s off to you. I’m guessing a few of those couples who responded were a surprise?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely. I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  “Isn’t that taking secret identities a step too far, Mata Hari?”

  “You could always try to torture it out of me.”

  Her big blue eyes were wide and innocent. When she stuck out her tongue to catch a bit of cocktail sauce at the corner of her mouth, he sighed. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

  “Would I do that?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “You think you’re safe from retaliation because we’re in a public place, but fair warning, my sweet. I could toss you over my shoulder, walk out of here to the front desk and get a room.”

  “You wouldn’t...” She eyed him askance.

  “Try me.”

  “Okay, Hutch,” she said, her tone placating. “I’ll behave from here on out. No flirting. No innuendo. No dancing.”

  “I didn’t say no dancing. A man has to take what crumbs he can get.”

  She cocked her head. “I’m confused. Are you a barbarian laying down the law or a puppy begging for scraps?”

  He stroked the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “What do you think?”

  For a long second, their gazes locked. Her eyes were nothing so simple as blue. They were dark at the outer rim, like midnight, but lighter near the pupil. He was mesmerized studying them.

  “Hutch?”

  He heard her say his name, but he was lost in a fantasy where she was stark naked on his bed. “Hmm?”

  “We probably should get back out there since we’ve finished eating. After all, I’m one of the ones in charge.”

  “Yes...” He whispered the word, still caught up in a vision he hoped like hell would come true in only a few hours.

  Suddenly, his dream woman stood up. “Hurry,” she said, excitement in her voice. “I think Deacon is about to make an announcement.”

  Hutch followed her, disgruntled. They found a spot near the front. The stage was set up just behind the orchestra. Deacon Chase stood at the microphone with a genial smile on his face and a raised hand. When the crowd at last fell silent, he spoke.

  “First of all, friends and neighbors, Shane Delgado and I would like to welcome you to The Bellamy. This hotel and all it encompasses is a dream come true for us. We’re delighted to have all of you here tonight. I hope you’ll spend a lot of time at The Bellamy in the years to come, not only overnight for special occasions, but also dining with us on a regular basis at either the Silver Saddle or the Glass House. Our new spa, Pure, is open to the public. All you need to do is make a reservation.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I know everyone is eager to get back to the dancing, but I hope you’ll grant me a moment of personal privilege.”

  He held out his hand, and to Hutch’s surprise, Simone’s friend Cecelia took the stage. Deacon introduced her with a broad smile. “If you think we have a beautifully appointed hotel, this is the woman who gets the credit. I’m forever in her debt for helping us make The Bellamy a reality. Even more than that, I am beyond happy that she has agreed to be my wife.”

  The room erupted in shouts and cheers. Shocked, Hutch looked sideways at Simone. “Did you know about this?”

  She nodded, beaming. “He gave her the ring several weeks ago, but they only told close friends and family before tonight. I guess this makes it official. Look how sweet they are together.”

  He did look, and Simone was right. Judging from the expressions on their faces, Cecelia and Deacon were ridiculously happy with their new status. Hutch continued to brood while Simone joined the crowd of friends who wanted to congratulate the bride-to-be and her groom.

  Deacon Chase had chosen well. As far as Hutch could tell, the billionaire hotelier and the gorgeous platinum blonde had a lot in common. Case in point—the two of them, along with Delgado, had turned a dream into a reality. Deacon built hotels. Cecelia had the know-how to furnish them.

  What did Hutch and Simone have in common? Not one damn thing.

  Suddenly, his bow tie choked him, and the room was far too hot. His heart beat out an unfamiliar cadence in his chest. Working his way over to Simone, he reached out and tapped her on the arm. The crowd was so noisy, he had to bend down so she could hear him.

  “I’m going outside for some fresh air,” he said. “Stay here and enjoy your friends.”

  Big blue eyes searched his face. “Are you okay?”

  He dredged up a smile and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “Never better,” he lied. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  “How will you find me?”

  Was she serious? “Honey, that red dress stands out in a crowd. Don’t worry. I won’t leave without you.”

  Desperately, he plowed his way to the other side of the room. Had the fire marshal okayed this crowd? Hell, the marshal had probably been invited for that very reason.

  Outside, he jerked his bow tie off and stuffed it in his pocket. After that, he took a deep, cleansing breath and leaned against a marble statue of Pan in a clump of daisies. He wished he smoked. Since he didn’t and never had, the next best thing was walking. He’d read the press packet about the new hotel. The grounds included several miles of wooded trails.

  He didn’t care where he went at this point. It wasn’t like he could get lost. This was Royal, not the middle of a wilderness.

  The night was perfect...too perfect. He walked with his head down, trying not to notice the moonlight or the sweet scent of flowers in the air. If he proposed to Simone and she accepted, there would be no going back. He wouldn’t be able to return to Sudan to escape her hold on him.

  Could he and would he be able to love three babies who weren’t his biological offspring? That seemed the least of his worries at this point. He adored children. He always had. Besides, the triplets carried half of their mother’s DNA. If he loved Simone, he would love her babies, too.

  But what if he proposed and she said no? Why had he purchased a house so near hers? He had to drive by Simone’s house every day on the way to work. That would be unbearable if they broke up for a second time.

  He’d never been good at games of chance. Knowing the odds were stacked against him meant he’d never had any real trouble staying away from gambling. He liked being in control.

  Yet here he was, contemplating a course that was neither certain nor even advisable. On paper it seemed absurd. His parents clearly agreed. Why would he risk so much when he had no idea if Simone cared for him at all?

  Again, he visited the possibility that she was using him. With triplets on the way, she might think she needed a second parent in the house above all else. Such a rationale made her seem cold and calculating. The Simone he knew was neither of those things.

  When he regained a modicum of control over his emotions, he put on the bow tie again. It was ti
me for him to go back inside to smile and to dance and to do whatever it took to make it through the remainder of the ball. After that, he’d get his reward. One whole night in Simone’s bed. Or his. He wasn’t too picky about locale.

  As he turned around to head back the way he had come, a large man about Hutch’s height stepped out of the shadows and blocked the path. Hutch froze, sensing danger. But the man was in formal attire and wore one of the masquerade masks. Surely this wasn’t some gate-crasher come late to wreck the party.

  “What can I do for you, sir?”

  The man straightened. He was big and broad, but even in the moonlight Hutch could see that his face was gaunt. “It’s what I can do for you, Dr. Hutchinson.”

  “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

  “You can call me Maverick. It doesn’t matter how I know your name. I’m here to give you fair warning about the woman in the red dress.”

  Hutch frowned. “Simone?”

  “Of course, Simone. Who else? You don’t have a clue what she’s really up to, do you?”

  “This conversation is over.” Hutch was furious and perturbed underneath that. Why did the stranger even care? Hutch went to brush past him, but the old guy put a beefy hand smack in the middle of Hutch’s chest. “Don’t run off, young man. I’m here to save you from yourself.”

  “It sounds to me like you’re here to bad-mouth Simone. And I don’t care to listen anymore.”

  The man got up in his face. “That little slut in the red dress got pregnant on purpose so she could inherit half of her grandfather’s estate. Did your precious Si mone ever bother to tell you that twist in the story?”

  “You’re lying,” Hutch said. Fury blurred his vision. He wanted to drag the man into the moonlight and see his face. With the mask and the shadows, he hadn’t a clue who he was.

  “It’s no lie. You ask her. And ask her if she knows Maverick. I think you’ll be unpleasantly surprised.”

  “Go to hell.” Hutch shoved past him, determined to walk away without indulging in a fistfight. He knew how to fell an assailant, but he’d rather not in this setting.

  The other man was older, but bulkier. Hutch never even saw the blow coming. It caught him in the temple. Something sharp, a ring perhaps, cut into his skin. Then he fell hard and hit his head.

  * * *

  Simone began to worry when Hutch didn’t come back after half an hour. Fifteen minutes after that she decided to go in search of him. She didn’t bother with looking inside the hotel. He had professed a need for fresh air.

  Outside, she inhaled deeply, happy to be away from the crush of the party. It was, by every measure, a grand success. She and Naomi and Cecelia could be justifiably proud of what they had managed to pull off. The money raised for Homes and Hearts would be enough to build modest homes for three needy families.

  Even knowing that her event was a smashing victory wasn’t enough to erase her unease. She walked away from the building toward the parking area. “Hutch!” she called out, her voice fraught with worry. She noticed that the space in and around the cars had been landscaped beautifully. Plenty of places to hide if a person or a couple didn’t want to be discovered.

  “Hutch!” She stood by his car now, only a little relieved to see it was still there. At least he hadn’t left the premises.

  Still no answer. She followed a series of small signposts leading back into the trees. For a moment, she stood, irresolute. Normally, she would take more care with her personal safety. This was private property, though. She had seen at least a dozen uniformed security guards mingling with the crowd and monitoring the entrances and exits. No one was out here trying to mug unwary party guests.

  At least she hoped not.

  She continued to walk, half a mile at least. Her shoes were not meant for traipsing about in the woods. When the pain of a blister became too much to handle, she stopped and took off her expensive footwear. Chances were, the heels were a loss. When she looked back, she could see the hotel in the distance all lit up like a fairy-tale castle. “Hutch!”

  A faint groan was her only answer. She almost tripped over him. “Hutch!” She knelt urgently, reassured in part when she heard him breathing. “Hutch, it’s Simone. Wake up.” Frustrated and scared, she removed his mask and her own. This was no time for pretense.

  She had no water, no rag to put water on. No way to sponge his face and wake him up. Nevertheless, she got one arm around his shoulders and held him against her breast. “Hutch. Can you hear me? It’s Simone. What happened to you?” Even in the shadowy woods, she could see something dark against his temple. When she tested it with a fingertip, she got woozy. Blood. Definitely blood.

  Gently, she ran her fingers over his scalp and discovered a second injury, this one an enormous knot. He must have hit his head when he fell. But that didn’t explain the wound at his temple.

  Why hadn’t she brought someone with her? This was the worst rescue attempt in the history of rescue attempts. She wished she remembered her first-aid training.

  It seemed as if she held him forever, but in reality only five or ten minutes elapsed. She stroked his forehead carefully, speaking to him in a jumble of whispered words. Fear unlike any she had ever known paralyzed her. She couldn’t lose Hutch. Not again. Not forever.

  Part of her wanted to run for help. The other part was desperately afraid to leave him here alone in the dark. So she stayed...and she prayed.

  At last, Hutch regained consciousness. Slowly, he stirred. She felt him stiffen as he realized where he was. With her help, he sat all the way up, putting his head in his hands, groaning and cursing beneath his breath.

  “Tell me how this happened,” she pleaded. “Who did this to you?”

  “Would you believe I ran into a door?”

  “That’s not funny. Let me help you up.”

  He batted her hand away. “I can do it.”

  It took him two tries, but he managed. His truculent independence was a good thing, because Simone had no idea how she would have managed to stand with a two-hundred-pound man draped across her shoulder.

  When he swayed, she reached for him. Again, he eluded her touch. Instead, he leaned on the nearest tree.

  “Are you able to walk?” she asked calmly. Something bad had happened. She knew it in her gut. Something beyond Hutch’s head wounds. His body language screamed at her to stay away.

  He nodded. “I can do it.”

  They were farther from the hotel than Simone first realized. Hutch made it a quarter of a mile or so before he had to sit down and rest.

  “This is stupid,” she said. “You stay here. I’ll go get help.”

  “No!” He shouted the word and then cursed again as his outburst clearly caused him agony.

  “You might have a concussion.”

  “I’m a doctor. I don’t need you to practice medicine.”

  Now she was certain something was wrong. The disdain in his voice, edged with fury, was a far cry from the Hutch who had wanted to make love to her in a tucked-away corner.

  Her heart sank. She waited in silence until he was able to stand again. This time she knew better than to offer help.

  They made it only as far as the parking lot. Beneath a streetlight, she caught her first glimpse of the wound at his temple. It was an angry red knot, sliced clean through with a cut that oozed significant amounts of blood.

  “Tell me what happened, Hutch. Who did this to you?”

  He leaned against his own vehicle. She saw his chest rise and fall as he struggled to speak. “Does the name Maverick mean anything to you, Simone?”

  Seventeen

  Dread made her blood run cold. Her voice froze in her throat.

  Hutch’s gaze was bitter. “I see that it does. Your face gives you away.”

  Hot tears burned her
eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “Maverick is the stranger who has been sending mysterious, threatening messages to people in Royal. I got two of his nasty notes, but so have others.”

  “I don’t really care about anyone else but you, Simone. Why would an anonymous blackmailer have anything to hold over your head?” The words were icy and clipped. It appeared that Hutch was prepared to be judge and jury.

  “How do you even know about this?”

  Hutch shrugged, wincing as he did so. “I ran into him on the trail. He confronted me. We argued. I tried to leave. He punched me.”

  “You need X-rays, Hutch. Please go to the hospital.”

  “First things first, Simone. Tell me... Is it fair to say that you got pregnant only to satisfy the terms of your grandfather’s will?”

  * * *

  Hutch watched her face. Every drop of color washed away. Her eyes welled with tears. He had his answer. “My God,” he said. “It’s true.” His heart shattered into sharp pieces that stabbed his chest. “You wanted money, so you decided to have a baby. Do you have any idea how incredibly selfish and immoral that is? I’ve spent my entire career protecting mothers and babies. What you did is unconscionable.”

  She stood proud and tall as he annihilated her. “I made a foolish mistake. I admit that. But it wasn’t really about the money, I swear.”

  “Of course it wasn’t,” he sneered.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” she cried. “Let’s go back inside so you can sit down. I’ll explain everything.”

  He shook his head violently, almost welcoming the pain. “I don’t need to hear your explanations. I see it all now. That’s the real reason you sent me off to Africa, isn’t it, Simone? You thought you were dating an up-and-coming surgeon, but then you found out I was more interested in offering my services to the poor than building a mansion in Royal and inviting you to be lady of the manor.”

  “Tonight isn’t a good time to discuss this,” she said quietly. “Come back inside with me. I’ll get some ice for your head.”