by Adrianne Lee
“I did tell him.” She moved a step backward, her mouth drying.
He looked completely confused. He stepped toward her again. “But I thought—”
She retreated again. “Please, let me finish.”
“Let me hold you.” He came closer.
“No.” She held her hands up to stop him. “I don’t think I could get through this if you did.”
“Tia, nothing could be so bad.”
“This is.”
“I don’t care what you’ve done.”
“Oh, it’s nothing I’ve done.” With a trembling hand she gestured toward the worktable. “Please, Mac, sit down.”
They took chairs across from one another. Tia clasped her hands in front of her to stop the quaking. “Being given up at birth, I’ve spent my whole life feeling unwanted. Unworthy. The near miss with the couple when I was eight reinforced my sense that something was terribly wrong with me. If my own mother and father didn’t want me, how could anyone else?”
She drew a steadying breath and crooked her hair behind her ear. But her hand continued to shake and she folded it back with the other. “Then Grant came into my life and I thought I’d found love at long last. When we got engaged I started wondering if I was wrong about why my parents had given me up for adoption. Maybe they were looking for me, too. Maybe they’d want to come to my wedding.”
She nearly choked on the thought of how naive she’d been. She forced herself to go on. “My foster mother, Molly Bowen, helped me track down my birth mother. I found her a month ago. She lives, ironically enough, in North Seattle—a twenty-minute drive from where I grew up.”
Mac leaned toward her, his hands covering hers. “And was she glad to see you?”
“No.” The word choked from Tia. She could still see the hatred in her mother’s eyes. The revulsion. Bile climbed her throat. “She never wanted to see me. She said I was the Devil’s seed. A child conceived in rape.”
Mac scowled and swore. He gripped her hands more tightly, ignoring her attempts to pull back. “How could she blame you for that?”
Tia lifted her eyes to his and shook her head, fighting the self-pity aroused by her bitter memories. She’d felt miserably ashamed these past four weeks since learning the truth, as though she’d brought the violence on her mother. Through Mac’s love, she now understood that the rape wasn’t her guilt to carry. She was as much a victim as her mother. More, even. “I’ve never told anyone, Mac. Not Molly, or Ginny, or Grant. But I had to tell you.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care where you came from. I just thank God you came to me.”
And she thanked God for sending her Mac. For letting her experience true love—even for this short time. “I’m not here for you, Mac. Don’t count on me or build a world around me. I can’t be your future or your wife or anything.”
“You don’t mean that.” His expression blackened. “You can’t give up on us because your mother didn’t want you.”
“No.” At least now she knew the wholeness of feeling wanted and needed and loved. The old wound in her heart had healed, but a new one was opening. “You love children, Mac. You’ll want kids of your own.”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard. “With you.”
“Not with me, Mac.” Tears clogged her throat. “My father is a rapist. In itself that’s bad enough, but what if he’s a serial rapist? A murderer? What if he’s crazy? His blood runs in my veins. I can’t pass that on to children. I won’t.”
He looked as though she’d driven a stake through his heart. “Then we’ll adopt.”
Her heart swelled with love for this man. If only she could believe it would be enough for him. But she couldn’t risk his one day changing his mind. She reached out and touched his cheek. “You deserve a whole woman. Someone who’s sure of herself, someone who can give you joy and love. I’m not that woman. I never was and I never will be.”
He lurched to his feet and smacked the table. “You’re wrong! I’ll make you see.”
“Oh, Mac, you almost did…and for that I will be forever grateful.” Her gaze traced his face with all the tenderness she felt for him.
She would always remember the look in his eyes now, would always remember the touch of his hands, as if she was something or someone precious, treasured.
But she had to let him go.
As her consolation, she knew Mac would go on to find love with someone else, and he would do it with confidence because she’d helped him see he could. Of course he would lose that innocence she adored, spend that joy of discovery she treasured with another.
But he would eventually find happiness, and that was what mattered. As she stood, a tear rolled from her eyes. Why was she weeping? She’d always known she’d leave his life the moment Holly Beary was safely on its way to stores across the country.
He stepped to her, caught her hands again. “I’m not letting you walk out of my life.”
“Don’t try to stop me, Mac.” She tugged her hands free. “You can’t change my history. Launch your toy. Bury your brother. Grieve for him and Gwen. When the pain in your heart begins to lessen, you’ll see this is for the best.”
He grabbed her. Hugged her to him. She clung to him, cried with him, then pushed from his arms and left.
Chapter Seventeen
The next two weeks passed in a blur of grief, heartache and activity for Tia. The holiday season provided her with extra work, extra flights to keep her out of Seattle, extra stressed-out passengers to keep her mind off her own problems. She was too weary each night to do more than drop into dreamless sleep.
Every morning she’d awaken hoping this would be the day she’d stop loving Mac. But every morning she’d awaken missing him more, loving him more.
She’d seen him three times since the day she’d walked out of his office. Once at Grant’s funeral and twice on TV in interviews celebrating the huge success of Holly Beary. Each time Nancy Rice was glued to his side. Tia had expected Nancy and Mac might eventually end up together, but seeing it happen hurt as nothing ever had.
And now it was Christmas Eve. She and Ginny trudged through the packed concourse toward the airport exit. The flight back from Taiwan had been routine. But Tia could barely drag her wheeled flight bag. She felt like sleeping for a week.
Only one good thing had come from the mess with Holly Beary. Tia had finally told Ginny the truth about her parentage. She didn’t know why she’d kept it from her for so long. Maybe if she’d told her sooner, she’d have discovered sooner that the tragedy suffered by her birth mother wasn’t her fault. She’d have found out Ginny wouldn’t shun her. She should have known that, should have trusted her best friend. But terror of another rejection had kept her silent.
Tia stuffed her bag into the taxi and hugged her friend. “I’ll be fine, Ginny. Christmas has never been my holiday. You know?”
“Yeah. I know.” Ginny stepped back. “Call me tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, Tia thought as she approached her apartment door, was just another day in the life of Tia Larken. At least, inside this door, she could shut out the rest of the world and its holiday revelers, its celebrations, its decorations. All the reminders of how lonely and miserable this season made her feel. Tonight her barren apartment would suit her mood to a T. She unlocked the door. Anxious to get inside.
The interior was swathed in darkness, but it wasn’t as cold as it ought to be. Had she left the heat on when she’d taken off on the last flight? God help her, her electric bill would be enormous. She hit the light switch and froze.
The apartment looked like a store specializing in Christmas merchandise. Every corner held something festive: scented candles, wreaths of greenery and holly, twinkling lights, foil snowflakes over her kitchen table. Her gaze fixed on the bushy Douglas fir against the window, hung with what appeared to be miniature toys. There were even presents under the tree.
Who had done this? Ginny? She glanced at the coffee table. Two champagne flutes rested next to her silver ice b
ucket and an unopened bottle of Dom Perignon. A single present the size of a sheet of paper sat beside them.
She hadn’t closed the door and knew she could reach it before anyone could catch her. “Who’s here?”
“Hi, Tia. Let’s play.” The voice came from the kitchen. She glanced up and saw Holly Beary propped on the counter.
She took a step toward it. Fascinated. “Did you say something to me?”
The teddy bear answered, “I love you, Tia.”
“And so do I.” Mac slowly rose from behind the counter.
Her knees wobbled with relief and something she couldn’t acknowledge. She pointed at the toy. “How did you…?”
Mac grinned, reaching into the heart of the bear and extracting the red computer chip. “How did I get this to react to your voice?”
She nodded.
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “That’s my secret.”
Mac left the teddy bear on the counter and came out of her kitchen. Her pulse quickened. He wore blue jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the middle of his strong forearms. He looked even handsomer than he had two weeks ago. His hair was slightly longer and he’d replaced the contacts with a thin-rimmed, attractive pair of glasses, yet he remained clean shaven.
Gone was the “Grant” visage, but he no longer slouched. He walked with a new air of confidence, apparently comfortable at last in the skin of Mac Coy. Her heart beat so hard she could hear it. She forced a smile, gesturing toward the room. “You did all this?”
“I think you need to learn to appreciate Christmas.”
God, this man was so sweet she wanted to cry. “Mac, please, this is really nice, but it’s not going to change my mind about us.”
“Perhaps not. But I got you a Christmas present and then I saw you had no tree to put it under. And this is such a great present, it just cried out for a tree.”
He moved closer and she wanted to run into his arms. It took every ounce of willpower she had to resist.
“Mac, I didn’t get you anything.”
“Well, you didn’t know you’d be seeing me.”
“No, and I don’t want you to give me a present.”
“Why don’t you look at it first?” He sat on her sofa and patted the cushion beside him. “Then if you don’t want it…I won’t ask you to keep it.”
She didn’t want to sit next to him. Didn’t want to play out their breakup scene again. She’d been reliving that every day since it had happened. But she could see he wouldn’t leave unless she humored him She sank onto the sofa. “Oh, all right. What is it?”
“Open it and see.” He placed the gaily wrapped box on her lap. Then he lifted the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and popped the cork.
The sound jarred her frayed nerves. “Mac, I don’t think you should have opened that. We won’t be celebrating—”
“Well, I’m thirsty and champagne is as good as anything for a dry throat.” He filled both glasses, then settled back onto the sofa beside her.
The room smelled of the cinnamon candles scattered on every table. And of pine from the tree. And of Mac’s aftershave. Her blood hummed. She lifted the gift-box lid with a jittery hand. Reposing on a sheet of Santa-covered tissue paper was the photo of an older man, a black-and-white print of someone she didn’t know or recognize. She raised her gaze to Mac. He was grinning at her. Anxious. “Who is this?”
“That is a fellow by the name of John Thomas Merrick. His friends call him J.T.”
She shook her head at Mac. “I don’t get it. How is this a present for me?”
“J.T. is your father.”
Her throat closed. “What?”
“While you’ve been flying all over Asia, I’ve been busy, too.” He was still grinning.
“Yes, launching the teddy bear.” Romancing Nancy. Decorating this apartment. Finding her father? She shook the photograph at him. “How?”
“I went first to your foster mother. She told me the name of your birth mother. I went to see her and we had a long talk.”
“I’ll bet that was pleasant,” she said sarcastically.
“Not particularly. But I made her realize I wouldn’t leave without the name of your father.” His ears reddened. “I can be persistent.”
Despite the knot in her stomach, she smiled. But her nerves stole the warmth as quickly as it came. “Where did you find him?”
“In Kent.”
“So close,” she whispered.
“Yes. He’s been there since he got out of jail.”
“He went to jail for rape.” A sob caught in her throat. She braced herself for the worst. “Just tell me, Mac.”
“Your mother’s family had him arrested for statutory rape. He was twenty at the time. Your mother told him she was eighteen. She was sixteen. He thought they were consenting adults. He thought they would marry. When she found out she was pregnant, she knew her strict Baptist parents would disown her. Or worse. So she cried rape. J.T. went to jail. And you were given up for adoption.”
Teenage love gone terribly wrong? God, how she’d like to believe that, but what man accused of rape wouldn’t try excusing himself the same way? “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes.” Mac nodded. “So I visited your mother a second time. Eventually she confirmed the story.”
Tia could barely take in what he was telling her. “My father is not a serial rapist,” she said, having to hear the words, the acquittal of all charges, out loud.
“No.”
“He’s not a murderer.” She accepted the glass of champagne from Mac. Her mouth was so dry she could barely swallow.
“He’s not crazy.”
“No, nor did he rape your mother.”
“But he went to jail.”
“And he’s been looking for you ever since he got out.”
Tia began to shake. “Looking for me?”
“Your mother wouldn’t tell him anything about you. Least of all how to find you.” Mac touched her hair as though he’d been longing to for years. “It’s impossible to find someone without anything to go on.”
Tia swallowed more champagne. The bubbles seemed to be filling the hole in her heart. She wasn’t the child of the Devil. She was wanted by one of her parents. Had always been wanted. Tears of joy welled m her eyes, ran hot down her cheeks. She touched Mac’s hand. “You’ve given me my father, Mac…”
The enormity of it stole her voice.
“Oh, J.T. isn’t all your family,” Mac said. “You’ve got a stepmom, two half brothers and a half sister. If you want them.”
“If I want…” she choked out. Her heart felt as though it were swelling from a tiny seed to a flowering rose. “I want.”
“I thought you might.” His voice was husky as he caressed her damp cheek. “They’re expecting us tomorrow. For Christmas dinner.”
“Us?” Her dry throat required another swallow of champagne. “Aren’t you spending the day with Nancy?”
“Nancy? Nope. I think she’s doing something with Will. She’s grown very fond of him since he saved her from the fire.”
“Will? I would never have taken him for a ladies’ man.”
“Me, neither, but we were both wrong. You should see the two of them together. And believe it or not, since I gave him his bonus, he’s stopped whining about money. He even gave me a great tie for Christmas.”
Tia burst out laughing. Mac took her glass, set it on the table beside his own and opened his arms. There was no more resistance in Tia. She dove at him. Laughing, Mac wrapped his arms around her. “God, but I’ve missed you, woman.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
He leaned back and gazed at her. “Really?”
“Really.” She stared at his mouth. That wonderful mouth. “Maybe you should show me how much you’ve missed me.”
He grinned wryly. “Only if you promise you’re not toying with my affection.”
Tia lifted her lips toward his. “Mac, my love for you is the real McCoy.”
THE BEST-KEPT SECRET
Copyright © 1998 by Adrianne Lee Undsderfer
All rights reserved Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the wntten permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontano, Canada M3B 3K9
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A
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Printed in U.S.A.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Dedication
CAST OF CHARACTERS
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
Copyright
