Who's the Daddy

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Who's the Daddy Page 12

by Judy Christenberry


  “Pretty good? You think pretty good will do after saying such hateful things?” she exploded, and then looked away, folding her arms over her chest.

  “I guess not,” he muttered, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

  After several minutes taut with tension, she murmured, “Do you really think I planned—”

  “No, of course not. I’m sorry I even suggested such a thing.” When she remained silent, he added, “Especially if you’re not going to speak to me again.” They’d reached his office and he parked the pickup and leaned forward to force her to look at him. “Are you?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” she said, obviously trying to hold back a grin. His mother always said he would tempt a saint. And, thank God, Caroline was no saint.

  “How about if I take you out to dinner tonight, as an apology for my boorish behavior?”

  “Since it’s an apology, do I get to choose the restaurant?”

  “Man, you drive a hard bargain. Okay, okay,” he agreed, holding up his hand when she would’ve protested. “You can choose the restaurant, but please don’t make me wear a tux.”

  “A tux?” she repeated, perking up at the suggestion.

  He groaned. “I knew it!”

  She leaned over and kissed him. “Never mind. I won’t torture you that much. Why don’t we go back to that Italian restaurant we visited the other night when Prescott joined us?”

  “Are you sure? I’ll spring for something fancier if you want.”

  His arm settled around her shoulders and he pulled her closer to him. Leaning into his chest, she whispered, “I don’t need fancy when I’m with you.”

  His response consisted of several kisses so hot Caroline thought she’d be consumed by fire. A honking horn interrupted them, or they might have embarrassed themselves.

  “I think I’d better go,” she said shakily, moving away from his magnetic presence.

  “Yeah, well, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Don’t be late,” she whispered with a grin, sliding from the truck.

  “Not a chance.”

  He walked her to her car, gave her one more sizzling kiss, and then sent her on her way with a smile.

  CAROLINE FORGOT any other errands she’d planned that day and headed for home. She was exhausted and intended to spend the rest of the afternoon taking a nap before she made herself pretty for Max.

  Though she still didn’t have proof that Max was the father of her baby, she just knew he was. After Max, there could be no one else. No other man could compare to him. He was the father of her baby. She was sure.

  She called out to Mrs. Lamb as she entered the house, then started up the staircase, her smile still in place.

  “Caroline?”

  She paused, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she recognized Adrian’s voice. Leaning over the stair railing, she saw him emerge from the sun room.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Frowning, she moved back down several steps. “I don’t remember making any plans with you, Adrian.”

  “No, I didn’t mean we had plans. But I think you’ll be happy with what I do have.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I brought proof.” When she stared at him, saying nothing because she couldn’t speak, he added, “I’ve brought proof that I’m the father of your baby. Now we can be married.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “NO!”

  One blond brow rose as Adrian stared at her, giving him a quizzical look. “No?”

  “You can’t have proof,” Caroline said, her voice shaking as much as her knees. Suddenly she plopped down on the stairs.

  “Are you all right?” Adrian inquired in studied concern. “Perhaps you should lie down for a while. We must take care of our child…and you.”

  “No! No, I need to see the proof. I need to—”

  “There’s nothing you need to do. Your parents have already gotten the ball rolling. In days we’ll be husband and wife.”

  Now wasn’t the time to be weak. Caroline grasped the banister and pulled herself to her feet. As she came down the stairs, she demanded, “Where is your proof? I want to see it.”

  “Well, of course, darling. It’s in the sun room. I left it on the coffee table.”

  “Caroline? Is that you?” Mrs. Lamb called, her voice preceding her through the door that led to the kitchen.

  “Yes, Lambie. I’m here. Could you bring me some tea to the sun room?”

  The housekeeper walked over and placed the back of her hand against Caroline’s cheek. “Of course, but you look pale. Shouldn’t you lie down?”

  “Not right now. I have something to do.” She managed to dredge up a smile before she turned to the sun room. Adrian was right behind her, his hand coming up to rest against the small of her back.

  How could Adrian be the father of her child? She couldn’t stand his touch. Max, on the other hand—that didn’t bear thinking about.

  When she reached the coffee table, she stared at the large manila envelope lying on it. She was afraid to look at the “proof.” What if she couldn’t refute it?

  He reached around her and picked it up. “I had forgotten that we ordered the picture. It came in the mail at the office this morning. I went at once to your father. He agreed that it was conclusive evidence.”

  Adrian’s smile reminded her of the cat that had swallowed the canary. It made her sick to her stomach. “What picture?”

  “One night at dinner in Vegas. You know how those photographers come around and offer to take a picture of a momentous event.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “I thought what was going on between us was fairly momentous.”

  “Tell me again what was going on between us,” she suggested, moving away from him, putting off the moment of truth.

  “I told you the other night. We were having an affair. But you wanted to keep everything a secret. Your father is the master of pressure, and you wanted to avoid that.”

  Even without her memory, she knew that her father always wanted his way and would do whatever to get it. That was what scared her. Adrian’s story was so plausible.

  Except for one thing.

  She didn’t want his touch.

  Was it because she’d fallen for Max since she’d slept with Adrian? Could one extraordinary attraction wipe out the memory, the desire, for another’s touch?

  “How long had we been having an affair?”

  “A couple of months. I’d been escorting you to some of the charity events, and one night we—well, we made love.”

  “Where?”

  Both of his eyebrows shot up, as if the question surprised him.

  “I can’t remember!” she reminded him in frustration.

  “My place, mostly. The first time, in the car.”

  “In the car? Like a couple of randy teenagers?” she demanded, horrified.

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. We were swayed by the moment.” He leaned closer to say with a growl in his voice, “We’re both passionate people.”

  She couldn’t deny his assessment of her, not after her time spent with Max. But with Adrian? She stepped from his embrace to sit down in a chair. When Mrs. Lamb entered with the ice tea, she was grateful. She wasn’t ready to look at the picture.

  The cold drink revived her somewhat.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t lie down?” Mrs. Lamb asked, hesitating before she left them alone.

  “Maybe in a little while, Lambie. I’m fine.”

  Though she looked doubtful, Mrs. Lamb left the room. Adrian circled the coffee table and sat down on the end of the sofa nearest her.

  “Don’t you want to look at the picture? It’s dated and everything.”

  “Dated?”

  “Yeah. They do that on these professional photos,” he explained, “kind of like they do on all the film these days.” As he talked, he opened the envelope and slid out an eight-by-ten photograph.

  Steeling herself for
what she would see, Caroline held out her hand for the evidence. Adrian gave it to her and sat back against the cushions with a broad smile.

  The photograph was of the two of them, her and Adrian. There could be no doubt of that, she realized, despair seeping into her heart. They were in a booth with the casino in the background, and she was snuggled against his shoulder while he had his arms crossed in front of him on the table. The date on the border of the photo read June 29.

  “And you just received it today? Why did it take so long to send the picture?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, undisturbed by her question. “Who knows? I figured we’d never see it. Some of these guys are fly-by-nighters. But you wanted the picture, so I paid.”

  He acted as if she should be grateful, she thought angrily. Instead, she’d like to tear the thing into small pieces. But that wouldn’t erase the doubts the picture had put in her head. Or the despair.

  “So, any more questions?” Adrian asked cheerfully.

  “No, no questions.” Not any that she could come up with at the moment. But something about the photo bothered her.

  He leaned forward to take the picture, but she pulled back, pressing it to her chest. “No, no, I want to keep it.”

  “Now, come on, darling, let me have it. I’ll get you a nice frame for it. We can show our child when he’s older, explaining how the picture saved the day.”

  “I already have several frames. I’ll take care of it.”

  “It’s not the exact size. It’ll need a special-sized frame,” he explained, his smile not quite as relaxed.

  “That’s all right. I know a frame shop.” The fact that he didn’t want to leave the picture with her was the only encouragement she’d had the past ten minutes.

  “Give me the name of the shop, and I’ll drop the picture off on my way back to the office.”

  “Oh, no, it will be out of your way. I’ll drop it off later.” She watched with rising interest as frustration filled his face.

  “You’re going to be too busy, Caroline. After all, we have a wedding to get ready for.”

  “I don’t think we have to be in a big rush. We have seven months before junior puts in an appearance.”

  The smile she was beginning to hate reappeared on his face. “Your father is much too impatient to wait any longer.”

  “I think it’s my decision, not my father’s.”

  Adrian laughed. “I guess you really did lose your memory if you think that. Your father is making all the arrangements right now. In three days, your wedding—our wedding will take place.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” she exclaimed even as she believed what he was saying. How like her father! Without realizing it, she let the picture fall to her lap.

  Instinctively, as she caught the rapid motion of Adrian’s arm, she reached for the picture. It ripped in half, each of them holding a portion.

  “Look at what you did!” Adrian exclaimed and reached for the other half.

  Caroline pulled back, staring at the bottom half of the picture that she held in her hand. Suddenly, what had bothered her about the scene became obvious.

  “I don’t remember ever seeing this dress before.”

  “You lost your memory, remember?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “But I’ve been through my closet. I didn’t see a dress like this.” In the photo she was wearing a tobacco brown linen coatdress with black trim on the collar.

  “You bought it for the trip. That evening, the waiter spilled red wine on it. You ended up throwing it out.”

  “How convenient,” she muttered, staring at the photo.

  Adrian snatched it from her fingers, which she’d relaxed as she thought about what he’d said. “I’ll have this mended. I know a good place. Then I’ll buy a frame for it before I let you hold it again. That way it can’t be destroyed.”

  He stood and walked over to the door. There he paused and said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you weren’t happy about our marriage. Fortunately, I haven’t lost my memory.”

  His meaning didn’t sink in until he’d left, closing the door behind him. Then she felt sick to her stomach. He was referring to their lovemaking. In a car, no less!

  She couldn’t imagine losing herself so much in a man that she’d— The sudden memory of those kisses Max had given her only a short time ago halted her protest. But that was with Max, not Adrian.

  Could she respond to two men like that? At the same time? Of course, if Adrian was telling the truth, then today was the first time she’d slept with Max. And the last.

  She buried her face in her hands.

  Max.

  Dear God, what was she going to tell him?

  Afraid to put off calling him, in case she lost her nerve, she crossed the room to the telephone.

  “Daniels Vacation Homes.”

  “Uh, Susan?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Caroline Adkins. Is Max there?”

  “No, Caroline, he’s on a building site. Do you want me to beep him?”

  She wasn’t that brave. “No, just give him a message. I have to cancel our plans this evening.”

  “Okay. I bet he’ll be disappointed. You sure did a lot to improve his mood today.” Susan chuckled but Caroline didn’t join in the laughter.

  “Give him another message for me, please. Tell him—tell him Adrian has proof.”

  “Adrian has proof? Will he know what that means?”

  Suddenly Caroline felt like crying.

  “Oh, yes, he’ll know.”

  MAX PULLED INTO the parking lot outside his office with a grin a mile wide. Life was good! He’d just sold another home and he was having dinner with Caroline.

  After a terrific lunch.

  As he got out of the truck, he remembered the kisses they’d shared on the same spot before she drove home. She felt what happened between them, just as he did. He’d convince her the baby belonged to the two of them.

  “Hi, Suze. Unless there’s an urgent message, just hold them till tomorrow,” he said as he sailed past his sister’s desk and into his office. He wanted to have plenty of time to shower and shave for this evening.

  Susan followed him to the door of his office. “The only important one was from Caroline.”

  “She called?” he whirled around. “What did she say? Am I supposed to call her?”

  “She didn’t say. She just said she had to cancel your plans.”

  “What?” he snapped, disappointment filling him. “Did she say why?”

  “No, but she left another message. It didn’t make sense to me, but maybe it will explain things to you. She said you’d understand.”

  “What?” he demanded impatiently. Sometimes Susan could drive him crazy with her details.

  “She said ‘Adrian has proof.’” Susan stared at him, but he couldn’t respond. He’d turned to stone. “Do you know what that means?”

  Anger welled up in him. “It means that bastard is lying!” he yelled. He brushed past his sister and headed for his truck. He was getting to the bottom of this “proof” at once.

  Why would she believe Adrian? She hadn’t believed him, in spite of the magic that happened every time they touched. What had Adrian given as proof? He’d probably bribed someone to say he saw them together. Or manufactured a receipt.

  His mind played endlessly with the possibilities until he screeched to a stop at the closed gates. Mrs. Lamb opened the gates from the house without question and he was knocking at the door in no time.

  “Come in, Mr. Daniels. Are you here to see Caroline?”

  “Yes, I am. Is she in?”

  “Yes. If you’ll just wait here, I’ll go see if she’s asleep. She wasn’t feeling too well earlier.”

  Max wanted to bound up the stairs ahead of Mrs. Lamb. He wanted to find Caroline himself. He wanted to see if she was feeling okay. He wanted to love her until she admitted the truth. That she was his. And he was hers.

  And Adrian…and his proof�
��didn’t exist.

  He was pacing the entry hall when footsteps alerted him to Mrs. Lamb’s return. He whirled to the stairs to find Caroline had accompanied the housekeeper.

  She didn’t look well.

  “Are you all right?” he demanded, starting up the stairs.

  “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

  He drew back, stunned by her question. “What am I doing here? What the hell do you think I’m doing here? After the message you left? You thought I’d just quietly slink away?”

  “Mr. Daniels, I don’t think—” Mrs. Lamb began, stepping in front of Caroline, as if to protect her.

  “It’s okay, Lambie,” Caroline said softly. “He has reason to be upset. We’ll just go into the sun room and talk.”

  “Shall I bring you something to drink?”

  “No. We just need to—to talk.”

  Her admission that he had reason to be upset calmed Max, somewhat. That and her paleness. She looked ready to faint. He suddenly remembered that she’d only been out of the hospital with a concussion for about a week.

  “Should you be out of bed?” he asked as he closed the door behind him.

  She turned to face him, her gaze troubled. “I thought you wanted to talk to me.”

  With a groan, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her softness the entire length of him. It drove him crazy.

  She rested against him for a brief minute and then pulled away, going over to sit down in a stuffed chair.

  He followed her, standing over her like a disapproving father. “Tell me.”

  She twisted her fingers together in her lap, staring at them as she talked. “He brought a picture of the two of us in Las Vegas. It was dated June 29. He said we’d been having an affair for a couple of months and went away together. I’d asked him to keep everything a secret because of my father.”

  He slid a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face. Staring into her hazel eyes, he asked, “Do you believe him?”

  “I saw the picture, Max. It was me. I was there in Las Vegas. And if that’s true, then I couldn’t have been with you.”

  Ah. There was the crux of the matter. One of them was lying, he and Adrian, and Adrian had a photo. He had nothing. He hadn’t thought of taking a picture of her because he’d wanted to believe he’d never lose her.

 

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