Who's the Daddy

by Judy Christenberry

  The door opened again to admit the two men her father called Adrian and Prescott. “James? We thought we’d better come up in case you needed help,” Prescott said, his gaze sweeping the room. When it landed on Max, he stepped closer to James.

  Interesting, Caroline decided. He goes to my father’s side, not mine. Adrian, the second one, kind of hovered between her father and her, as if undecided about where his loyalties lay. As they moved, Caroline looked closely at them. They were both handsome, in a conventional manner. Adrian was blond, but a little too smooth for her tastes. Prescott was darker and slightly shorter, but neither stirred her as Max did. “What’s he doing here?” Prescott demanded, disdainfully waving his hand toward Max.

  “He never left,” Caroline rapidly answered, not happy with Prescott’s attitude. What business was it of his if Max wanted to visit her? “We spent the entire night together.”

  Everyone except Max and the doctor gasped, staring at her. Then a babble of protests made her regret her short-tempered response. “Just kidding, just kidding,” she said, raising her hand to halt their noise.

  “Caroline’s headache is back. Too much noise is bad for it,” Max said calmly.

  Prescott glared at Max, but Adrian moved closer to Caroline. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes. Do you know my phone number?” she asked.

  “Why, certainly. Your private line or your father’s?”

  “Mine.”

  He said her telephone number, and Caroline smiled as Max took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote it down on one of his business cards. His sexy grin was her thank-you.

  “I’m not sure that was wise, Caroline,” Prescott said, echoing her father’s earlier warning.

  “I may not remember too much about my past, but I know I don’t like people bossing me around, whoever I am. If you know me well, Prescott, you must already be aware of that trait.”

  During their conversation, the nurse had pushed the flower cart out the door and returned with a wheelchair. “Is she ready, Doctor?”

  “I believe she is. She may not be up to full fighting weight just yet, but I think she can handle this crew,” Dr. Johansen said with a smile at Caroline. “I suspect you’ve already seen a doctor about your pregnancy, but if not, set up an appointment as soon as possible. And let me know if the headache doesn’t gradually diminish.”

  “Gradually?” she protested.

  “I’m afraid so, Caroline. Don’t get too agitated for a while. Rest and sleep. That’s the cure.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  He excused himself and the nurse pushed the wheelchair to her side and then took her arm. “Okay, lean on me. On the count of three, we’ll move to the chair.”

  Caroline would have preferred Max’s help, but if she asked for it, Prescott would probably knock both of them over trying to reach her first. She stood and stepped over to the wheelchair. A sudden hand on her other arm needed no identification. The responsive surge of attraction told her it was Max. She smiled up at him once she was settled. “Thanks.”

  “I would’ve helped. You should’ve asked me,” Prescott complained.

  She almost groaned aloud. If Prescott was the father of her baby, she could expect a whiner and probably the biggest brownnoser in existence. What a depressing thought.

  “Well, let’s be on our way,” her father said abruptly, swinging around to the door. His two satellites fell into step behind him.

  Caroline wasn’t quite ready. She wanted an excuse to touch Max one more time. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Thank you for the daisies.”

  He took her hand in his. “My pleasure.” Then he leaned down and briefly caressed her lips with his. Her pulse throbbed. Good thing she was going to get some rest before she saw him again. Otherwise, she just might explode with all the excitement.

  As if realizing something had occurred behind their backs, the other three men turned and stared at the two of them.

  “Are you coming, Caroline?” James demanded.

  “Yes, I’m right behind you, Dad,” she answered, a smile on her face for Max Daniels. He remained in the room as the nurse pushed her out, her daisies clutched to her chest.

  DAMN. Max stood alone in the hospital room and drew a deep breath. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But he hadn’t been able to resist. Even as pale as she was this morning, with a bruise on her forehead, Caroline was beautiful.

  He’d only had two short weeks with her, but he’d missed her every day since she’d gone. Even though he called himself all kinds of a fool for still wanting her.

  The two weeks they’d spent together seemed like a dream now, with a nightmare ending when she disappeared. He’d already been making plans for their future together. Plans that were aborted when she left.

  She’d told him she was from Kansas City and had just moved to Denver. At first, she’d said she was looking for a job. He’d offered to introduce her to the interior design firms he used, had even told her who to contact. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized she’d never looked for a job.

  Hell, he hadn’t given her time. He’d spent every moment he could with her. He couldn’t leave her alone. And he’d been making plans to keep her with him forever.

  And now that he’d discovered she was an heiress, he knew they had no future together. Even if the baby was his. Her father wasn’t going to let her marry him. Not when there were two superstar executives waiting with open arms.

  Max wasn’t even sure why he still wanted her. After all, everything she’d told him was a lie. Now he understood the old saying, ignorance is bliss. Those two weeks had certainly been blissful.

  But if their two weeks had resulted in a baby, his baby, then he refused to be pushed out of the picture. He would not abandon his own child.

  He shook himself from his misery. Feeling sorry for himself had never been his style. Instead, he formulated a plan and set about changing his circumstances.

  Maybe that was what had frustrated him so about Caroline. He’d followed every lead he’d had, but he’d discovered nothing about her.

  He reached the outer door of the hospital just in time to see a white limo pull away from the hospital. At least this time he had her telephone number. Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.

  “WAIT!” PRESCOTT CALLED to the driver as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

  Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Please don’t shout.”

  “But we’ve forgotten your flowers. That damned nurse probably thought she could get away with stealing them. Turn around and go back.”

  “No!” Caroline contradicted. “Take us home, Lewis.”

  The chauffeur, much to Caroline’s satisfaction, obeyed her.

  “Caroline!” her father exclaimed. “How did you know?”

  “What?” Her head hurt so much. She wasn’t sure she could remain upright until they reached the house.

  “His name. You knew his name.”

  “You must have said it,” she replied, frowning, trying to think.

  “No, I didn’t. Your memory is returning!” he exclaimed happily. “That’s wonderful. I’ll give that doctor a bonus. Now,” he said, pausing to lean toward her, “which of these gentlemen is the father of your baby?”

  Immediately the headache increased.

  “I haven’t gotten my memory back. I don’t know how I knew his name.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m in so much pain.”

  “And I don’t understand about the flowers. Didn’t you like them?” Prescott grumbled.

  “They were lovely. But there were so many of them I asked the nurse to distribute them to others who weren’t going home. It seemed like the generous thing to do.”

  “It was, and just like you, Caroline,” Adrian said as he smiled at her.

  “Was it?” she asked coolly, leery of his friendliness. She decided his gray eyes were cold, even if his lips were smiling. And who knew if he was telling the trut
h? All she knew about herself so far was that she liked her own way, hated headaches, was pregnant, and apparently didn’t mind sleeping with more than one man.

  That couldn’t be true. She never liked to share. In high school, her boyfriend had thought he could date her and her best friend at the same time. She’d shown him.

  Another memory. She clutched it to her like a precious jewel. But when she tried to extend that grasp on the past, searching for other memories, she drew a blank. Frustration filled her.

  “If you were so generous with the roses, why are you still holding those?” Prescott complained, gesturing to the daisies.

  “Because I like them.”

  He turned to glare at her father. “You said roses!” he accused. He sounded like a little boy, but his thinning hair showed him to be considerably beyond his youth.

  If she’d needed confirmation that the roses had been sent at her father’s behest, his remark was it. She shot her father a knowing look.

  “I was just trying to speed things up. I don’t want my grandchild born a bastard, so I suggest you select one of these fine gentlemen to marry you. They’re both willing.”

  “And are you going to speak the words for them as they mime a proposal?” she asked, growing tired of her father’s arguments.

  “That’s not necessary, Caroline, darling,” Prescott said, rushing in, as she should’ve known he would. She might not remember him, but she knew more about him than she wanted to already.

  “I’m perfectly willing to marry you today if you’ll agree,” he continued, reaching for her hand.

  She pulled her hands back. “No, thank you. I have a headache.”

  Not an original excuse…for a lot of things, but it was the best she could come up with right now.

  “I’d prefer to make my proposal in private,” Adrian informed her, sending a superior smile toward Prescott.

  She’d prefer that he not make it at all. “Thank you, but I’m confused right now. I don’t think I’m ready to make any decisions.”

  “Of course, but you won’t forget?” There was an edge to his voice that irritated her.

  “I hope not.” It seemed to Caroline that a promise not to forget from an amnesiac victim wouldn’t be worth much. She wouldn’t believe her.

  “Of course she won’t forget,” her father answered heartily. “And if she does, the three of us will be there to remind her. After all, she has to marry someone.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Now, Caroline, no argument. I’m an old-fashioned man, and I expect my grandchild to be born on the right side of the blanket.”

  She ignored him.

  “And if you don’t cooperate, you just might find yourself written out of my will.”

  She might not have her memory, but the ease with which her father uttered those words made her suspect it was a threat he’d used before.

  “Then call your lawyer, because I will decide what I do about my baby and my future. Not you.”

  The look of panic on Prescott’s face that she might be written out of the will told Caroline her threat may have eliminated at least one potential daddy candidate. Whether her memory returned or not.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CAROLINE STARED IN AWE at the magnificent residence the limo stopped in front of, after having driven through a large gate flanked by brick walls. It must take an army of workers to maintain the lush grounds, she decided, her gaze traveling over the perfect flower beds, the exactly trimmed hedges.

  She turned to compliment her father on the beauty of their home only to discover everyone staring at her. She felt like a bug under a microscope.

  “No, I don’t remember,” she assured them dryly. “I’ll let you know when my memory returns.”

  All three looked away.

  “Why did Prescott and Adrian come with you to pick me up instead of my mother?” Caroline suddenly asked, struck by the presence of these men rather than family members.

  “Friday is Save the Whales day,” her father muttered.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Adrian leaned forward to explain. “Your mother is quite involved in the local charities. On Fridays, she goes to the meeting for saving the whales.”

  Caroline remembered a curious remark from the day before. “And one of her charities is for unwed mothers?”

  “Yes,” her father snapped.

  Caroline asked no more questions. Not yet.

  Her father escorted her into the house and introduced her to the housekeeper, Mrs. Lamb, and then left for the office, accompanied by Prescott and Adrian.

  “Welcome home, Caroline. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m still a little shaky. If you’ll show me to my room, I’ll lie down for a while.”

  “Why, honey, there’s no need to be formal!” the woman said with a laugh that sent a shooting pain through Caroline’s head. “You know better’n me where your room is.”

  Her patience was wearing thin. Amnesia might play a large role in a lot of jokes, but she wasn’t finding it funny. “Mrs. Lamb, I have amnesia. I don’t remember ever seeing this house before.”

  “Oh, my stars. Of course, Caroline. You just come this way. Anything you want to know, you just ask me.”

  If her head weren’t splitting into a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon, she might have taken the woman up on the offer. Later. She only had one question at the moment.

  “If I want to invite someone to dinner, is that all right?”

  “Of course it is. Just tell me when and how many.”

  Caroline took a deep breath before she clarified her request. “I meant if I wanted to have a guest for dinner and—and not dine with the family.”

  “Oh, of course, you want something romanticlike? No problem. It’s nice out at night right now. I could set up a table for two on the patio. You’d be all alone there.”

  “That would be perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Lamb. I’ll let you know when.”

  “Sure enough. I’m just having a little trouble with you being so formal and all. When you wanted something real special from me, you always used to call me Lambie.” The woman smiled with a warmth that struck Caroline as the kindest she’d seen since she awoke a lost person.

  She reached out and touched Mrs. Lamb’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I’ll remember everything soon. If you’ll just be patient.”

  “Of course I will. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt bad.”

  “Thank you.”

  She followed the housekeeper up a wide staircase, down a long hall to the last door on the right.

  “Your room looks out over the pool.”

  She pushed open the door and Caroline stepped into the room. She stared around her, her eyes wide. “Who decorated it?”

  “Why, you did, Caroline, about two years ago. You don’t remember? Oh, my stars, what a silly question. Forgive me, child. Now look, here’s the phone and if you want anything, you just pick it up and press this button. Okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.” With a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, Mrs. Lamb fled the room.

  Though she moved about the room, searching for clues to who Caroline Adkins might be, she also recognized a sense of contentment gradually filling her. It felt as if she had finally found a sanctuary from the maze her life had become.

  Maybe it’s all the blue. I’ve always been partial to blue. She had taken several more steps before she realized she’d remembered something else about herself. Yes, she’d always liked blues. And bright colors.

  With a sigh she pulled back the coverlet on the king-size bed and sank down amid a huge collection of pillows. She’d worry about who she was, what she’d done, later. Now, she needed to rest her aching head.

  Caroline awoke several hours later, consciousness gradually returning. But not her memory. She let her gaze sweep the room, looking for clues to who she really was. With a sigh, she sat up.

  The rest had given her the energy to indulge her curiosity a little more. After washing her face in the
luxurious connecting bath, she returned to the bedroom and opened the closet door.

  A ripple of pleasure ran through her as she examined the rows of clothes hung neatly in the large closet. My, I have great taste…and expensive, too. She recognized designer names on many of the dresses.

  Since she couldn’t remember buying or wearing any of the outfits, it was like having an entire new wardrobe. She wouldn’t have to shop for months. Wrong.

  How could she forget the baby?

  And the changes that would occur in the next few months. She groaned. Even the clothes she was wearing were a little snug, uncomfortably so. Before too long, they wouldn’t fit her at all, and she’d have to start shopping all over again.

  Not necessarily an unhappy thought, she realized with a grin. What woman didn’t enjoy a little shopping? Sliding her hands into the pockets of her navy slacks, she felt the card Max Daniels had given her.

  Resolution filled her. She had something more important than shopping to do right now. It was time to take back her life. And she would start with Max Daniels. She ignored the thought that she was starting with him because she wanted him to be the father of her child. She had to start somewhere.

  She crossed the room to the telephone.

  “Daniels Vacation Homes.”

  Caroline frowned at the sexy female voice that answered the phone. “I’m calling Max Daniels.”

  “Max is out of the office at the moment. May I take a message?”

  “This is Caroline Adkins. I need to—”

  “He just came in. One moment, please.”

  “Caroline?”

  She released a sigh at the sound of his voice. It was as if she’d feared she wouldn’t find him again. With no memory to support their relationship, she only had those few minutes at the hospital.

  “Hi, Max. I—I wanted to invite you to dinner.”

  The silence that followed her request left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

  “To dinner?” he finally asked.

  “Yes.” When he said nothing else, she asked, “Is that an odd request? Do you not eat?”