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Father And Child

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by Rebecca York




  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Other Books by

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Preview

  Copyright

  Rraise for 43 Right Street

  FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

  “Few write suspense like Rebecca York.”†

  FACE TO FACE

  “Harlequin’s first lady of suspense…a marvelous storyteller, Ms. York cleverly develops an intricate plotted romance to challenge our imaginations and warm our hearts.”*

  PRINCE OF TIME

  “Get ready for the time of your life…Breathtaking excitement and exotic romance…in the most thrilling 43 Light Street adventure yet!”*

  TILL DEATH US DO PART

  “Readers will delight in every page.”†

  TANGLED VOWS

  “A bravura performance by one of the best writers ever of quality romantic suspense.”*

  MIDNIGHT KISS

  “A sizzling, seductive tale of dark mystery and brooding passion.”*

  WHAT CHILD IS THIS?

  “Chilling suspense and snowballing excitement from a master of intrigue.”*

  *Melinda Helfer, Romantic Times †Debbie Richardson, Romantic Times

  Dear Reader,

  43 LIGHT STREET heroes and heroines become very real to us. We suffer along with them when they’re in danger or under emotional stress, and we feel an enormous sense of satisfaction when they claim the happiness they deserve. You’ll hear us breathe a sigh or two over Zeke Chambers as he searches for the daughter he never knew he had, and for the woman he secretly loves.

  Father and Child is the fifteenth book in the 43 LIGHT STREET series. It’s wonderful to see how all the men and women of LIGHT STREET have grown and changed. Some even have families now-and we’re delighted with each and every one of them!

  We’re hard at work on the next 43 LIGHT STREET book, Nowhere Man. Check the pages after this story for a sneak preview. Harlequin Intrigue will be bringing it to you in July 1998. We know you’re going to love it! And be sure to look for our short story in the special Valentine anthology, Key to My Heart, in February.

  All our best,

  a.k.a. Ruth Glick and Eileen Buckholtz

  Father and Child

  Rebecca York

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Zeke Chambers—He never thought he’d say the words “Will you marry me?”-or be a father.

  Elizabeth Egan—Could she dare believe she’d have a future with Zeke?

  Ariadne—All she wanted was a family to love.

  Sebastian Demos—Once a friend, now an enemy-an enemy who refused to die.

  Aristotle—He was blinded by jealousy. Sophia-She kept a secret who was now five years old.

  Theia Irena—She was making the same mistake again. This time she hoped for better results.

  Cyril—Revenge had made him mad.

  Previous titles by REBECCA YORK 43 Light Street books:

  Life Line

  Shattered Vows

  Whispers in the Night

  Only Skin Deep

  Trial by Fire

  Hopscotch

  Cradle and All

  What Child is

  This?

  Midnight Kiss

  Tangled Vows

  Till Death Us Do Part

  Prince of Time

  Face to Face

  For Your Eyes Only

  Father and Child

  Peregrine Connection books:

  Talons of the Falcon

  Flight of the Raven

  In Search of the Dove

  Don’t miss the next 43 Light Street: Nowhere Man July 1998

  Don’t miss any of our special offers. Write to us at the following address for information on our newest releases

  Harlequin Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave, P O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian P.O Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  Chapter One

  “Will you marry me?”

  It must be a trick of the wind howling through the trees outside. She couldn’t possibly have heard correctly. Elizabeth Egan’s blue eyes widened as she stared at the man seated across the table. “Pardon me?” she said.

  “I said,” he repeated, “will you marry me?”

  A burst of rain pelted the floor-to-ceiling glass, and a bolt of lightning struck so close to the house that the instant rumble of thunder made the silverware on the rosewood table rattle.

  But she barely registered the storm. Her attention was focused on Zeke Chambers. His powerful shoulders were as tense as tree limbs about to snap. Under his deep tan, his skin was pale. One large hand was clenched so tightly around the stem of his water goblet that Elizabeth thought it might shatter.

  She blinked a couple of times, then met his gaze, searching. When he’d called her earlier, Zeke had said he was in trouble but couldn’t talk about it over the phone. She’d heard the near panic in his voice, and something inside her had melted.

  Softly she whispered his name. “Zeke?”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m not doing this very well.”

  Nothing new about that. Verbal communication was definitely not his strong suit. She’d met him a couple of years ago at a faculty party when she’d been finishing her master’s degree, and their attraction was instant and mutual. He was a hunk, dark haired, tall and ruggedly handsome. And she’d seen something in his gray eyes-a fiery spark that hinted at excitement and passion, even danger-that stirred her blood and made her heart race. But he kept those inclinations well hidden, and over the course of time she’d come to know a man who was soft-spoken, charming and rather shy in an endearing sort of way.

  He was also clearly terrified of getting close. Every time she’d thought Zeke was about to lower his defenses, he’d backed off. And finally, before they became intimate, she’d backed off, too, disappointed and only half convinced that it was best to quit while she was ahead. She hadn’t thought he’d call again. But very quickly they’d fallen into a friendship that seemed to make Zeke more comfortable. Sometimes she didn’t see him for months at a time. Then he’d come back, and her heart would leap. While the relationship left her mildly frustrated, she’d tried to tamp down the arousal she invariably felt when she was around him, telling herself that what he needed was a friend. Lord knows what she needed. She should have gotten serious with somebody else, yet other men always suffered in comparison to Zeke.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

  He nodded.

  Elizabeth looked at him, baffled.

  His eyes held the same combination of panic and turmoil she’d heard in his voice that afternoon when he’d called. Worried but strangely elated that he’d reached out toward her, she’d left the office early and come straight to his starkly modern stone-and-glass house-where she’d been astonished to find the table in his elegant dining room set with china and silver and starched linen, as if his request for her presence had been nothing more than a simple dinner invitation.

  “I’ve got to have a wife by tomorrow night,” he said, his voice strangled. “I didn’t know who else to ask.”

  The world tipped so sha
rply that she felt as if she were going to fall off her chair. But she refused to let her turmoil show. Sitting up straighter, she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “That isn’t exactly a declaration of undying love.”

  He looked confused. “But you don’t want a declaration of love.”

  Don’t I? she almost shouted, stunned by her own reaction and the sudden knowledge of how badly he could hurt her.

  He shook his head a little. “I thought you’d be the perfect choice. You won’t get emotionally involved. And when it’s over, we can each go our separate ways and there won’t be any problem.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “It wouldn’t be for very long,” he hurried to add.

  She was trying to frame a reply, when the wind gave the house an ear-shattering blast that rocked the very foundations. The lights flickered and went out, pitching the room into inky darkness.

  Zeke swore, and she heard his chair scrape the slate floor as he rose. A second later he was at her side, gently but urgently pulling her to her feet. His hands were strong, sure as he drew her to his side. “I think we’d better get away from the windows, just in case,” he said.

  She might have argued, but another blast reverberated, rattling the giant panes.

  The room was absolutely dark, and he was Elizabeth’s only point of reference as he began to lead her toward the interior of the house. She wanted to pull away, wanted to put as much distance as she could between the two of them, but the blackness and the strong grip of his hand on her arm gave her no alternative.

  He opened a door, led her through, and she judged they were in the hall. More thunder rumbled, and Elizabeth trembled. Not because of the storm, though.

  “Elizabeth, you have to marry me,” he whispered.

  Outrage bubbled inside her, but she tamped it down, gritting her teeth as she muttered, “I don’t have to do anything.”

  When he turned her toward him, she tried to resist, but he anchored her against his body.

  “I thought…I thought we were friends,” he said.

  She heard the strain in his voice, realized at some level that he didn’t have a clue how tactless, how hurtful he was being. Still, she couldn’t help the defensiveness that colored her tone as she spoke.

  “That’s not exactly enough for marriage.”

  She heard him sigh. “I guess it isn’t, is it? I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. But I do need you. I need you because-”

  “You don’t need anyone,” she shot back, unable to control her wounded feelings. Taking advantage of the cloak of darkness, she gave voice to thoughts she’d kept hidden for some time because she’d been afraid she’d drive him away. “Zeke, you never let anyone get close to you. Oh, you’re charming and friendly, and you’re very good at making everyone around you feel completely comfortable. But I think you have secrets-things you don’t want anyone to find out-so you keep people at arms’ length.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m that transparent?”

  Shaking, she gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. Probably not to everyone. I guess I got close enough to you to figure out that much,” she added in a whisper.

  He muttered an oath.

  She had nothing left to lose, so she continued. “Zeke, I realize you haven’t had much practice being straight with people…But, well, you can’t ask a woman to marry you and in the next breath tell her that you don’t love her.”

  She heard him swallow. “I’m sorry. You’re right, but things have happened-”

  “What things?”

  He drew a ragged breath. “I’m…I’m trying to save a life.”

  Stunned, she lifted her face toward him, wishing she could read his expression, but she couldn’t penetrate the blackness surrounding them. Still, she felt the urgency in the hands that gripped her shoulders, and she heard the desperation in his voice as he continued in a rush.

  “My daughter. I just found out about her,” he said. “She’s five years old. Honest to God, if you won’t help me, I don’t know what-” He broke off, his hands tightening their grip. “Please, Elizabeth. Please, help me save my child.”

  A galaxy of emotions swept over her. She’d thought he had done his worst with the outlandish marriage proposal. Now she knew he’d been involved with someone else. At least involved enough to father a child. The jagged edges of shattered assumptions stabbed her. Lord, he’d played to her gullibility, all right. Yet her own wounded feelings receded into the background when she imagined the little girl. He’d said she was in danger, that he was trying to save her life. The thought of a five-year-old frightened and alone tore at her heart as nothing else could. Once, she had been abandoned and terrified, and Sam and Donna had been her only salvation. Zeke was giving her yet another chance to repay a debt she could never fully discharge.

  “I—I’ll help you,” she answered in a shaky voice.

  “Thank God.” The words rushed out, and she felt some of the terrible tension in his body ease. Quietly, she waited for him to explain.

  When he volunteered nothing, she prompted, “If I’m going to-to be effective, you’ll have to tell me what’s going on.”

  She sensed his hands moving in the darkness. “I don’t know where to start.”

  Her mouth was so dry she could barely continue. “I suppose with her mother. Was she your wife? Are you divorced?” Did you love her? The last question went unasked. She knew she was too much of a coward to hear the answer.

  “She’s dead,” he clipped out.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She wasn’t my wife,” he added gruffly.

  Profound sadness seeped into his voice, answering her unspoken question: he had loved the woman who had borne his child. Elizabeth felt the world drop out from under her feet. All along she had concocted a logical explanation for his behavior toward her, convincing herself that he was incapable of commitment. Now she knew he had been capable of love-only he’d loved someone else. “Why didn’t you marry her?” she blurted.

  “She married somebody else.”

  “You-you had an affair with a married woman,” she asked, unsure of how to cope with this new revelation.

  His denial came out like a small explosion. “No. That’s not what I mean. She married Aristotle after we-we were together-” He broke off and sucked in a gulp of air, then let it out in a harsh exclamation. “I had a job to do. I’d given my word-don’t you see? I thought I was only going to be away for a couple of days. When I got back, her family had pushed her into the marriage.”

  It was the longest speech about himself that she’d ever heard him deliver. It ended as abruptly as it had begun.

  “Hell, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this,” he said.

  She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, then opened them again. She wanted to shake him-shake the truth out of him instead of getting it in tiny portions that hardly made any sense. Then she wanted to run away from him, as fast and as far as she could get before he hurt her any more. But when he didn’t volunteer any additional information, she sighed, wondering what it would take to get through to him. Could either one of them deal with honesty? “Zeke, I feel like you’ve socked me in the stomach. Maybe I’d better quit while I’m ahead.”

  “No, please.”

  “Then explain what’s going on. I can’t be much help to you unless you tell me everything you know.”

  “I understand. But I can’t go into certain things. Not about—” He stopped again.

  “Damn you, Zeke. Stop playing games with me.” She realized she had reached out and grabbed his shoulder, that she was in fact trying to shake him. He stood immobile, towering over her. When she discovered she was the one flailing back and forth, she made a strangled sound and stilled.

  “I—Elizabeth, please—”

  He sounded like a man trapped in a pit-calling out for help. He also sounded as if he were on the verge of cracking. His arm muscles were tied into knots, and Elizabeth imagined that his fists must
be clenched at his sides. The hands that clutched his shoulders gentled. What had he gotten himself into that he couldn’t talk about? Something so serious that he’d left the woman he loved for-what did he call it-a job?

  “Did you do something illegal?” she murmured.

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to digest that. In the space of a few minutes, Zeke Chambers had swept away all the naive assumptions she’d ever made about him. No, not every one. She’d caught the hint of danger in the depths of his eyes. She hadn’t guessed how close she’d come to the mark.

  “Illegal but not criminal,” he clarified quickly, his voice shaking with emotions he was obviously trying to suppress. “I mean, not in the sense that you’re probably thinking.”

  She blinked, feeling like she’d stepped into an alternate universe where black was white and white was a strange shade of gray. She needed more answers, yet she sensed that the man standing in front of her like a statue about to shatter couldn’t handle any more questions. On a soft sigh, she cupped her hands around his shoulders, stroking, kneading the muscles that were as tense as coiled springs.

  For a long moment nothing changed. Then he let out a shuddering breath. Some of his stiffness dissolved, and he laid his cheek against the top of her head in a gesture of surrender.

  Her fingers moved upward, winnowing into the thick hair at the back of his head, holding him to her the way a mother might hold a child. They stood that way in the darkness for long moments as she listened to the sound of his harsh breathing. She should be angry with him, but somehow the knowledge that he needed her made all the difference.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m asking too much of you. Too much of anyone.”

 

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