Apparently satisfied with the response to her new dress, Chelsea allowed Roddy to lead her to a chair. “Get me some white wine, sweetums,” she cooed as she sat down.
“No,” Amelia said calmly, but her word had the effect of an explosion. Everyone stared at her.
Even Caroline was taken aback. In the little she had discovered about her mother, she assumed Amelia had nothing to say about anyone’s life in her house.
“What? I always have white wine, Mother. And I should be pampered. After all, I’m pregnant.” Chelsea pouted again.
“I’m sure your doctor told you to have no alcohol. It’s not good for the baby.”
“But surely one little glass of wine—” Chelsea began, but her mother cut her off.
“No. Have club soda like your sister.”
“Oh, of course! Caroline is always right!” Chelsea huffed, sliding down in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Your mother’s right, darling,” Roddy began with such tentative tones that Caroline fought the urge to chime in with encouragement. It wasn’t hard to decide who wore the pants in that family, even if they were maternity pants.
“I’m sure Mother heard that rule at the home for unwed mothers. And, of course, they shouldn’t indulge because they have no self-control, but I—”
“Also have no self-control,” James finished. “You’ll do as your mother says and have club soda.”
Caroline leaned toward Max. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’d planned on a private dinner. Then you wouldn’t have had to endure this argument.”
“No problem.”
She stared at him in irritation. The least he could do was look disappointed at having to share her with this mob all evening. Instead, he seemed quite interested in Chelsea’s performance.
Maybe he was attracted to Chelsea. Her honey blond curls, even if they were out of a bottle, gave her a little-girl look that some men found alluring. Caroline couldn’t remember anything about her relationship with Max, but she knew she didn’t want him attracted to her sister.
“Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Lamb announced from the doorway.
Amelia put away her needlework and stood to lead the way into the dining room. Beside each plate was a charming china name plate. Caroline was unhappy to discover Max was to be seated at the opposite end of the table from her.
“I’m afraid a mistake has been made, Daddy,” she announced, calmly exchanging Max’s name with Adrian’s. Instead of having her father’s two favorites surrounding her, she would have Max as a dinner partner.
“I just thought I’d like an opportunity to visit with our guest, Caro,” James protested.
“Some other time, Daddy.” She took Max’s arm and drew him to the chair at her mother’s left. He courteously pulled out the chair beside him for her, in the center of the table, opposite her sister.
Max wasn’t sure what difference it made where he sat at the big table. From the moment he’d met the other two men on the front porch, he’d realized the evening would be a disaster. He’d been an idiot to expect anything else, he decided.
An uneasy silence fell on the table as the housekeeper served consommé. Max may not have been brought up in a wealthy mansion, but he’d been taught good manners. He turned to his hostess.
“Do you do needlework for relaxation, Mrs. Adkins?” he asked politely.
His hostess looked surprised at his question, but she smiled. “Why, no. Actually, I’m doing it for an auction the home for the unwed mothers is having to raise money. It’s so expensive to care for all of them.”
“That’s very nice of you,” he said, and picked up his soup-spoon. As if he’d knocked a hole in a dam, words poured forth from Mrs. Adkins as she described all the ways the money would prove useful for her charity.
An occasional nod or encouraging word was all Max needed to contribute for the next few minutes. That gave him plenty of time to think about the brunette beauty beside him. She’d been on his mind for the past two months. Their two weeks together had been wonderful. Since then he’d wondered if he’d ever see her again.
Maybe he would’ve been better off if he hadn’t.
He sneaked a glance at her and decided that wasn’t true. If he had a chance to be with Caroline, then he wanted that chance.
“Do you have brothers or sisters, Mr. Daniels?” Mrs. Adkins asked.
“Why, yes, ma’am. I have three brothers and two sisters.”
“My, you come from a large family. Do they all work with you at your business? I believe my husband said you build homes?”
Max noticed Caroline leaned a little closer, as if trying to hear what they were saying. He grinned. She’d loved to hear him talk of his family. He’d assumed she had none of her own, but now he wondered if it was because hers seemed so distant to each other.
“Only my baby sister, Susan. She answers the phone when she’s not in class.”
“She’s in high school?”
“No, Susan’s a junior in college.”
“Was she the one who answered the phone when I called yesterday?” Caroline asked, proving that she’d been listening to their conversation.
“Yeah.”
“Did—did I meet her when we—while we were dating?”
“No.”
He hadn’t wanted to share her with his family. One introduction and they would’ve taken her in like a long-lost relative. So he’d put off taking her home to his mother. Until it was too late.
“Did I meet any of your family?”
“No.”
Her hazel eyes, with their dark lashes, rounded in surprise. He wanted to lean toward her and kiss her soft lips and tease her about her reaction. Instead, he sat stiffly, unsure what to say. How could he explain the sweetness he’d wanted to hold close, keep private, as long as possible?
“And you had the nerve to complain that I didn’t tell you about my family?” she whispered to him under her breath so her mother couldn’t hear.
“At least I told you about my family.”
“That’s going to be a little hard to prove since I can’t even remember you, much less what you told me!”
“Caroline,” her father called, pulling her attention away from Max.
“Yes?”
“I wondered if you wanted to have lunch with me tomorrow? You haven’t been to the office since the accident, and you used to come all the time.”
“She can’t,” Amelia said as she rang the bell for the next course to be served. “Tomorrow is her day at the home for the unwed mothers.”
“It is?” Caroline asked, seemingly surprised.
“I really don’t think that’s appropriate now, Mother,” Chelsea said. “After all, they might mistake Caro for one of the inmates and not let her leave at the end of the day.” She giggled, as if feeling her words were quite entertaining, but no one else laughed.
Max thought it best to ignore her remark. “What do you do there?” he asked Caroline.
The lost look on her face made him want to take her into his arms and comfort her, but that wouldn’t be appropriate dinner behavior. Besides, anything she did got that reaction from him.
“I—I don’t know. Mother, what exactly do I do there?”
“Why, Caro, you’ve done some wonderful things. You teach a cooking class, and you pay for a hairdresser to give free haircuts, and you teach them to read, too. Mrs. Brown is thrilled with your help.”
“A cooking class? I know how to cook?”
“Oh, nothing fancy. That’s why it’s so good. You teach them how to make easy, well-balanced meals. Mrs. Lamb helped you.”
In spite of the confusion on Caroline’s face, Max wasn’t surprised. She’d done a little cooking at his house. Nothing fancy, but good wholesome food. Even more interesting, she’d never acted as if she expected to be waited on. Maybe that’s why he found her real identity so difficult to believe.
He’d dated one or two well-to-do young ladies after he’d begun to make his ma
rk in the world. Any man making money drew that type of woman. In fact, Chelsea reminded him of them. And Chelsea, or anyone like her, would never fit into his family.
Caroline, on the other hand, would be adored by his sisters, and if it were anyone but him who introduced her, his brothers would be fighting over her. Just like the two jerks at the table.
Prescott, sitting on Caroline’s left, leaned toward her. “It shouldn’t surprise you that you can cook, Caroline. You do everything well.”
“I’m not sure Caroline should do anything so strenuous just yet,” James said.
Max smiled in amusement as he watched Caroline’s chin rise. Only once had he tried to tell her what to do. Her reaction had taught him a lot about her.
“I’m sure I’ll be just fine. What time do I usually go, Mother, and—and where is it?”
“I’ll send Lewis back home to drive you if you insist on going,” James said, irritation in his voice.
Doubt darkened Caroline’s hazel eyes. Max guessed she had just realized that the city she’d grown up in was strange to her, and she could easily get lost. In an attempt to comfort her, he took her right hand in his and squeezed it gently.
Her gaze as she turned to him reminded him all over again why he was here, dining with the ill-assorted group. The warmth in Caroline’s eyes lit a fire in him that would never die.
Mrs. Lamb brought in the main course and everyone turned their attention to eating. About halfway through the meal, Caroline abruptly excused herself and fled the table, her hand to her mouth.
Max stood to go after her, but James Adkins ordered him back to the table. “Chelsea,” he barked, “see about your sister.”
“Me?” she asked in horror. “I can’t, Daddy. If I do, I’ll lose my dinner, too. She’s just experiencing temporary morning sickness.”
Max was willing to bet everything he owned that Chelsea hadn’t been so calmly accepting of the nausea when it was happening to her. “I’ll go,” he said, as he stood again. “I’ve helped my sister a couple of times.”
“But it’s not morning,” Prescott said, confusion in his voice as Max left the room. “Is that normal?”
While Max followed the sounds of someone throwing up, he marveled at his desire to help Caroline through her nausea. He was notorious in his family for his weak stomach. But he wanted to be at Caroline’s side now, to share her difficulties. To experience the growth of his child in her.
The only problem was, he wasn’t sure it was his child.
He shoved that disturbing thought aside and rapped on the bathroom door. “Caroline?”
She moaned before muttering faintly, “Go away.”
Pushing the door open, he took in the pitiful sight of Caroline bent over the toilet. Without bothering to ask her opinion, he slid into the small room and wrapped one supporting arm around her waist and laid a hand on her forehead.
As another wave of nausea hit her, she sagged against him, moaning. When it ended, he held her to him and reached for a washcloth. After wetting it, he wiped her face gently. Then he offered her a glass of water to rinse her mouth.
“How did you know what I needed?” she asked afterward. “It was almost as if you’ve been through morning sickness before.”
He ran a finger down the side of her beautiful cheek, enjoying the opportunity to hold her again, even in these circumstances. “That’s because I have.”
It didn’t occur to him what she would think until she stiffened and her face clouded over.
CHAPTER FIVE
CAROLINE’S HEART SANK. She’d wanted Max to be the father of her baby because of the strong attraction she felt for him. But his answer brought home to her how little she knew about Max Daniels.
Or herself.
“With my sister, Caroline, with my sister,” he hurriedly said. “Her husband traveled a lot during the early months of her pregnancy and she stayed with us.”
“Oh,” was all she could think to say since she was overcome with relief. She still didn’t know enough about Max, she warned herself, but the happiness filling her mocked that thought.
“Oh,” she repeated. “I thought you meant—”
“No,” he said hurriedly as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I’ve never—I mean, you’re the only—”
“I’m glad.” Understatement of the year. She’d die of jealousy if he even so much as thought of another woman.
“There’s not too many people I’d risk nausea for,” he added. “You should count yourself lucky.”
“Me and your sister? Is that all?”
“Maybe my mother or Susan. Or one of my brothers, though they won’t be experiencing morning sickness,” he said with a laugh.
“You’re very close to your family?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why didn’t you introduce me to any of them?” she asked. She couldn’t ask that question in front of her mother, but she was dying to know the answer.
He sighed and linked his hands behind her back, bringing her body closer to him. “Because I didn’t want to share you. What we had—have—is very special. My family kind of takes over, and I wanted you all to myself.”
“Oh.”
He frowned. “Don’t you believe me?”
She wanted to. With all her heart she wanted to. But there was so much she didn’t know, didn’t understand, didn’t remember. “I—I don’t know.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to show you,” he murmured.
His blue eyes invited her to come closer and she met him more than halfway, leaning against his broad chest, loving his solid warmth, his all-male scent. His caring about her enough to face her sickness warmed her, but not nearly as much as the way his lips were coming closer and closer. She closed her eyes, anticipating his touch, her heart racing.
“Caroline?” Mrs. Lamb called out as she pushed the bathroom door ajar.
Caroline’s eyes popped open and she saw the embarrassment she was feeling in Max’s blue ones. He took his hands away and stepped back from her.
“Your mother sent me to see if you were all right,” Mrs. Lamb explained, but her gaze was on Max.
“I’ll—I’ll go back to the dining room and leave you to Mrs. Lamb’s capable hands,” Max said, and ducked out of the room.
“Thank you!” Caroline called out, wishing he was still there, holding her.
“What a nice man,” Mrs. Lamb said, and then clucked in sympathy. “You do look a sight, and it’s all my fault.”
Caroline whirled to stare at herself in the mirror, concerned with how Max saw her, before Mrs. Lamb’s words registered. “Your fault? Why is it your fault? I would’ve thought it was the baby’s fault, or the fault of one of those three men sitting so calmly eating their dinner right now.”
Caroline’s nausea wasn’t helping her temper. Nor the thought that Max had seen her when she wasn’t at her best. Even more irritating was the frustration she was feeling because Max hadn’t been able to demonstrate the magic they shared. “It’s not fair that only the woman tosses her cookies in this pregnancy business. Why can’t the man get sick, too?”
“Well, now, some men do experience a similar nausea, but not many. Anyway, I shouldn’t have put jalapeño peppers in the beans, but that’s your father’s favorite and I just forgot about you being pregnant.”
Caroline attempted to restore some order to her hair as she asked, “You think that’s what caused it?”
“Oh, yes. I did the same thing to Chelsea before she even knew she was pregnant. Now, you just come back to the table and eat a little more. You’ve got to keep up your strength. But avoid the beans.”
Mrs. Lamb left the bathroom and Caroline sat on the side of the bathtub to consider her options. She’d rather pass up a return to the dinner table. Except for Max.
Even though she knew she’d have little opportunity to question him, she couldn’t resist being near him. Not that he’d feel any attraction for her now. How sexy can it be to lose your dinner at any mom
ent?
But, she realized with a sigh, she was really hungry now. She had to eat something. Slipping up to her room, she renewed her makeup and hurried back to the dining room.
Max stood as she entered and everyone else stared at her. When she sat down again, he leaned over and whispered, “Better now?”
Though she appreciated his concern, her embarrassment kept her from showing him. She gave an abrupt nod and sipped the ice tea by her plate.
“Sorry, Caro, I should’ve warned you about the beans,” Chelsea said, sincere regret in her voice.
Caroline looked up in surprise. She hadn’t expected such sympathy from her younger sister. “Mrs. Lamb mentioned that you’d had an encounter with them, too.”
“Yes. Miserable, isn’t it? But after the first three months, it goes away.”
“Not always,” Amelia said. “Your father got quite tired of my dashing away from the table.”
“I think he should’ve been grateful he wasn’t the one having to do the dashing,” Caroline muttered.
“Women are the stronger sex,” Adrian said, speaking for almost the first time that evening. “I think that’s why they bear the responsibility for continuing the human race.” He smiled at Caroline, almost convincing her of his sincerity. Then he added, “Our child is going to have a wonderful mother.”
Prescott immediately protested, but Max said nothing. Caroline stole a glance at him to see the steely glare he was directing Adrian’s way. If she’d been Adrian, she would make sure she steered wide of Max.
“Are you the father of Caroline’s baby?” Amelia asked, as if she were discussing the weather.
“Of course I am. I said I was from the beginning,” Adrian replied, equally calm.
“You can’t prove that,” Prescott retorted, leaning across the table.
“Not until after the baby is born and we can do DNA testing,” Adrian agreed. “But I intend to prove to Caroline that I’m the father long before that. I don’t want my child to be born illegitimately.”
Caroline stared at Adrian, her heart sinking. Could the man lie so sincerely? And could he be the father of her child? She didn’t want him to be. Already she knew she wanted Max to be the father of the baby she was carrying. But what if he wasn’t?
Who's the Daddy Page 5
