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The Seven Year Secret

Page 11

by Roz Denny Fox


  Yesterday, he’d had Claire behind him, urging him to go in. Today, he had no one, and admittedly no basis for the fear that gripped him by the throat. Finally, taking a deep breath, he thrust open the door and stepped inside.

  The girl looked up from a doll she’d been listlessly flopping about. “Oh,” she said, her eyes wide. “You did come back. I hoped you would. This morning when I asked Mommy if you might, she said no.”

  Connor set his duffel under one of the two vacant chairs. “I’m leaving for Miami later tonight. That’s why I’m carrying my suitcase.”

  Liddy Bea craned her neck to peer behind Connor. “Where’s the grumpy lady?”

  Connor realized she meant Claire. “Uh…she had to go home early. Claire’s not normally grumpy. I think maybe she was disappointed that you didn’t like the angel bear.”

  The child fiddled with her doll’s bonnet. Eventually she gazed up contritely. “Mommy said next time I’m sp’osed to just say thank you. What’s in the box? Did you bring me another present? If you do, I know I’ll like it.” She edged up higher on the pillows.

  Connor tipped back his head and laughed heartily. “How can you be so sure until you see what it is?”

  “’Cause I love everything that comes in little boxes.”

  “In that case, here. Have a look.” Connor put the package in her lap. “I’ve got to warn you, though. It’s not a toy.”

  Liddy Bea already had the ribbon untied and the lid off. With care, she unrolled the first frog from its tissue, then cradled the piece ever so reverently in a pudgy hand. Tracing the frog’s bulging eyes, she smiled softly. “How did you know I wanted my very own good-luck charm? ’Cause I’m afraid I’ll break Mommy’s elephant.”

  “Dig deeper in the box, honey. Your frog has three friends.”

  “Goody! So, if one breaks, I’ll still have luck.” She unwrapped the others and exclaimed over each frog in turn. When all four rested on her lap, she batted her long eyelashes at Connor and prettily lifted her arms for a hug.

  Bending awkwardly, he accepted his due. Something about knowing that this child, with her soft, sweet-smelling skin, was a direct creation of his and Mallory’s sent Connor’s already jumpy nerves reeling. Perhaps the knot he felt in his gut made him squeeze her too tightly. At any rate, Liddy Bea ducked away before Connor was ready to let her go.

  “Thanks. I, um, forgot your name,” the child said, clearly not sure about having him so close now.

  “It’s Connor. Oh, wait—does your mom let you call adults by their first names?”

  “Maybe.” Liddy Bea nibbled on her lip, gazing solemnly at Connor’s face. Apparently having solved whatever momentary concern she’d wrestled with, Liddy Bea carefully picked up her frogs. “I’ll bet Mommy’ll be surprised.”

  “Indeed, Mommy is,” declared a troubled voice from the door.

  Neither Connor nor Liddy Bea had heard Mallory open the door. Both aimed guilty glances her way.

  Straightening, Connor tugged on his tie. “Mallory. I figured you probably had to work until at least five o’clock.”

  “The ward nurse phoned, asking if I’d authorized any male visitors for Liddy Bea today. Since I hadn’t, naturally I rushed right upstairs. I work on the first floor.”

  “Mommy, we know Connor, don’t we?” Liddy caught her mother’s eye.

  “I explained last night, baby. He’s an old friend,” Mallory said, her voice husky. “But you met him only yesterday.”

  Liddy Bea sighed aloud. “I feel like I’ve seen him lots of times.”

  Mallory and Connor shared a puzzled lift of the eyebrows. The truth dawned first on Mallory. Connor was slower to realize the girl probably only recognized a similarity to herself each time she looked in a mirror.

  Mallory gasped weakly, clearly not wanting to be forced into explanations.

  Fortunately, Liddy skipped easily on to the next item of importance in her life; namely, Connor’s gift. “Mommy, come see what your friend gave me.” Liddy pointed to the man she had no clue was her father. “These are my very own good-luck frogs. So you can take Ellie home and put her back in her special place.”

  Mallory sidled past Connor, careful not to touch him. She took an inordinate amount of time examining the frogs, even though she felt Connor’s eyes burning into her back. He was, she knew, dying to hear more about the special place where she kept his gift. But she’d be darned if she’d let him find out Ellie still watched over her while she slept, as the little figurine had done since the day she turned sixteen. Mallory had waged battles with her mother, who on many occasions tried to spirit Ellie into the trash.

  Never had Mallory let Beatrice know how often her daughter’s last act of the day was to kiss the elephant’s trunk and make a wish that Connor would one day return to her. A silly ritual. And it had been patently clear for years that her faith in the good-luck charm had been sadly misplaced. Liddy Bea, chattering merrily about her windfall, seemed destined to travel a similar path.

  “Mommy, please put my frogs where I can see them every morning when I wake up. You know what? I think maybe Connor knew my daddy. I’ll bet my good-luck frogs will lead Daddy home. Do you think so? You said Connor’s been gone a long time. And now he’s back.”

  Mallory bristled at the very suggestion. “Connor’s not really back. He lives in Miami, and he’s leaving again. Aren’t you?” she said, rounding on him in a way that could only be termed rude.

  He leaned negligently against Liddy Bea’s bed and found he actually enjoyed Mallory’s discomfort. A discomfort she’d brought on herself, dammit, when she made the decision to cut him out of his child’s life.

  But as always, Mallory’s intense blue eyes had the power to melt him into submission. The passage of time apparently hadn’t altered that, in spite of their current adversarial relationship. Especially as those same blue eyes pleaded with him not to give away her secret.

  Disgusted at letting himself be so easily manipulated, Connor uncrossed his arms and ankles, and angrily grabbed up his duffel. There remained, however, a tiny, defensive twinge, demanding he not let Mallory off scot-free. He glanced at his watch and noted that it was quarter after four. “If I’m going, how about a lift to the airport? You don’t mind taking me, do you, Mallory? My flight’s not till nine-thirty, so there’s lots of time before then for us to grab a bite to eat. Otherwise, I guess I can phone the kitchen and ask to have a tray sent up with Liddy Bea’s. If I recall from last night, you said that’s an option.”

  “It’s not your option,” Mallory snapped. “I’d intended to work late…I’m preparing for my upcoming leave. But…oh, all right. Bring your bag. We’ll stop at my office so I can shut down my computer, at least.” Grinding her back teeth, Mallory kissed Liddy Bea. “Tell Connor goodbye, baby. I’ll see you later.”

  “He could stay, and we could all have a pretend tea party.”

  “Maybe next time I’m in town,” Connor told the child, totally ignoring Mallory’s scowl.

  “’Kay.” Somewhat mollified, Liddy Bea smiled and waved them off, after turning on her side to better see the frog band her mom had set on the table near her bed.

  Connor expected Mallory to let him have it once they were out of Liddy Bea’s hearing. Instead, she clammed up, leaving him to match her furious strides down two flights of back stairs.

  “Dammit, Mallory! Maybe you’d better define my role a little better—explain what you want from me.”

  Glowering, she slammed into her office, not inviting him to follow. He stepped in, anyway, taking grim satisfaction in the surreptitious glances the staff threw his way.

  “Ah. I see you got the flowers.” He fingered a pale carnation in a vase full of carnations and forget-me-nots.

  “So you’re the one who sent Mallory the bouquet?” her secretary gushed—a comment more or less forcing Mallory to complete terse introductions.

  “Dr. O’Rourke’s an old acquaintance. He’s leaving town soon. This afternoon,” she stressed to
the still-giddy secretary. “Mandy, tell Alec I’m running out to the airport and back. I’ll try to catch up with him at six or so in the cafeteria. If not, I’ll see him in the morning.”

  Connor waited until Mallory marched past him and out the door. He turned to Mandy, who continued to eye him with interest. “Scrap the cafeteria message. Tell Alec whoever-he-is, I’m taking Mallory to an early dinner on our way to the airport. She can get together with him tomorrow.” Connor shut the door solidly, then caught a sputtering Mallory by the elbow. Pulling her against his side, he forcibly walked her to the employee garage.

  “You have some nerve,” she exploded after he’d stopped beside her car and released her.

  “You bet I do,” he blazed. “Gumption was something your mother was sure I lacked, right? Well, as you can see, that’s changed. So you might want to think twice about taking off without me, which is exactly what’s on your mind. I’ve got no qualms about going back in there and telling your secretary exactly how it used to be with us.”

  “Bastard!” Her eyes sprouting angry tears, Mallory jabbed her key at the door lock.

  Connor took the keys from her icy fingers and did the honors, handing them back with a flourish. “By any dictionary’s definition, that term does fit me. But I’d be careful about flinging it around too freely, as it also applies to Liddy Bea. Your fault. Not mine. Now…if we’re finished trading barbs, might I suggest stopping someplace relatively upscale to eat? If for no reason other than to ensure that we’ll be civilized to each other for an hour or so.”

  With a last dirty look, Mallory slid into the driver’s seat of her aging BMW.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MALLORY NAVIGATED THE BUSY downtown traffic without acknowledging Connor’s presence.

  While far from content with the way things were going between them, he gave her space. Until she turned onto one of the area’s canopy roads—so named for the huge oaks whose spreading branches formed a long canopy over the corridors leading out of the city. “I wasn’t kidding about us stopping to eat,” he said bluntly. “Because of the tests, I missed breakfast and lunch, so I’m starved. All I’ve had is an energy bar Marta insisted I take. Anyway, isn’t it high time we have a straightforward discussion about our daughter?”

  Mallory tore her eyes from the road. “What do you mean, our daughter?”

  He exhaled harshly. “I mean, how long are we going to dance around the truth? I’m Lydia’s natural father. You can avoid the fact, but you can’t change it.”

  Color drained from Mallory’s face, and her body shuddered so noticeably, Connor reacted to her pain. “God, Mallory. If I could turn back the clock and relive our pasts, don’t you think I would?”

  “That’s where we differ,” she retorted sharply. “Even with all of life’s ups and downs, I wouldn’t skip having Liddy Bea for anything. Not for anything in the world.”

  “I didn’t mean I’d erase the pregnancy. I only meant I’d never have left you alone to deal with caring for her. Pull off here,” he snapped. “It’s the Inn. I remember you always claimed they served great food.”

  Mallory reacted automatically to his curt command. If she’d taken time to reconsider, she’d have driven past the cozy wayside restaurant, where the staff knew her on sight. This was Alec’s favorite haunt. On nights when they both worked late, he often brought her here to compare notes. Before this moment, Mallory had studiously avoided attaching importance to the frequency with which her boss asked her to accompany him to cocktail parties and civic functions.

  Suddenly, as she pulled into the parking lot, seated next to the only man to whom she’d ever given her body and her heart, Mallory was forced to face another truth. Her boss wanted to be more than a boss.

  “What’s the matter? Why are you staring at me? Aren’t I dressed okay for this place? I have a sports jacket in my duffel. It’s probably wrinkled, but—”

  “You look fine.” Mallory took the key from the ignition, averting her eyes from Connor O’Rourke. Still, she couldn’t help noticing that one tanned, muscled arm was casually draped over the back of her seat. He looked slightly piratical with his dark, windblown hair swept back from a distinctive widow’s peak. His sharply angular face, creased by a dimple on one side, lessened his rakish appearance. She’d seen the other day how his chest and shoulders had filled out in seven years. Not a detriment. He looked fabulous enough to send her heart into a tailspin.

  From the corner of her eye, Mallory tried to study, instead, the strong, brown fingers Connor drummed nervously on the dash. She’d always loved his hands. Those long, clever, well-manicured fingers had never felt rough against her skin. Only now did she wonder why, when he often worked at labor-intensive jobs.

  “Drive on,” he growled. “Surely there’s someplace not so fancy. I don’t want to embarrass you. I never did. Although if your mom was still alive, she’d say I did that just by living.”

  “That’s not true,” Mallory blurted. “Well,” she reneged unhappily, “it’s true Mother made snide remarks a few times. It’s not true you embarrassed me. I was always proud of you, Connor. I still am,” she admitted in a ragged whisper.

  That declaration caused Connor to straighten in his seat and stop the tattoo of his fingers on the padded dash. “Proud? Of me?”

  “Of your work,” she hastily corrected him. “Your professors thought an early-warning system to detect hurricanes was a pipe dream. You’ve shown them all.”

  “You’ve kept track since I left Tallahassee?” Both his confusion and underlying bitterness were achingly evident.

  “No. No, I haven’t,” Mallory said, trying to combat his impression. “I read an article recently on your research in one of Dad’s business magazines. And I happened to see an interview Miami TV did shortly after you joined their meteorological team there.”

  “Oh. Sorry I jumped to conclusions. You want to eat here, then?” He prepared to open his door.

  “How long before you have to check in for your flight?” Mallory asked, turning businesslike again.

  “Three hours or so.”

  “Well, it’s only five now, so I, uh, suppose we have time to eat here. They’re never in a rush to serve patrons. But if you have until eight, there shouldn’t be a problem.” Patting the space between them, Mallory found and retrieved her purse, which she’d put there as a barrier.

  The small action reminded Connor of his gentlemanly duties. He’d been lost in assessing how pretty Mallory looked in the gold dress he’d admired earlier. Vaulting suddenly from his seat, he hurried around the car to assist her out. What he found most disconcerting was the fact that he had to mentally scold himself for letting memories creep in of the way Mallory used to look wearing nothing but a lazy, sexy smile.

  He felt sick. Damn, he shouldn’t have to remind himself that he had a fiancée awaiting him in Miami.

  Connor knew he should be mature enough now to blot out lust-filled memories of a woman he’d once loved. But he wasn’t succeeding. “What a mess,” he mumbled, as he handed Mallory from the car.

  “Are you referring to me?” Mallory stumbled a little.

  “No,” he said, startled. “I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud. I was referring to our situation. We’re kind of caught between a rock and a hard place, aren’t we, Mallory?”

  “No. Not if we watch what we say around Liddy Bea, and if you and I limit our contact with each other. Once the transplant is over, we’ll each go about our business as before.”

  Did she really believe that? Connor let her stride ahead while he dropped back to smooth his tie with a sweating hand. He’d have to make it very clear that he wasn’t willing to disappear out of his daughter’s life again.

  Mallory reached the entry ahead of him. Connor, still a step behind, stretched one arm over her head to open the door. An elderly couple was just leaving, so he held the door to let them pass. He caught up to Mallory as the maître d’ addressed her by name. “Ms. Forrest. If you’re joining Dr. Robinson ton
ight, I believe you’ve beaten him here. Will you wait for him in the foyer or shall I prepare your favorite table?”

  “I, ah, I’m dining with someone else this evening.” Red seeped up her neck as she glanced self-consciously over her shoulder at Connor. Feeling trapped, she spun toward the host again. “We’re in a bit of a rush to get to the airport. Any table will do, Dominic.”

  Connor gave in to a slow burn working its way past his lungs. “Come now, Mallory. We’re not in that big a rush. By all means, you should enjoy Dr. Robinson’s favorite table.”

  “Very good, sir.” Dominic bowed stiffly and disappeared into the dim interior.

  “That’s unnecessary, Connor,” Mallory hissed. “Any table would do.”

  “Do you recall me trying to save up enough money to bring you here on your twenty-first birthday? Two days before, I blew the spare tire on the old Ford, and that took all the cash I had. I know how hard you tried not to let your disappointment show. It was hell on me, since I was the reason your mom cut off all money except your tuition. I hated ending up in the college cafeteria when it should have been a special day for you.”

  “I’d forgotten that. What’s your point, Connor?”

  “Frankly, I’m curious about the guy who managed to make this place routine for you. Tell me more about your Dr. Robinson. Neither you nor your dad mentioned you were seeing someone.”

  Mallory put a hand to her temple where a troublesome pressure was building behind her eyes. “Alec, Dr. Robinson, is Forrest Memorial’s chief administrator. Most of our visits here could be classed as working dinners.”

  “But not all?”

  “What are you getting at, Connor? You’re engaged, for heaven’s sake! My position in PR reports directly to Alec. We work together a fair bit.”

  “Don’t bite my head off. I’m interested in hearing about the people in your life now, Mallory. Because those same folks are in Liddy’s life. If you want the unvarnished truth, I’m surprised you aren’t married.”

 

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