by Sandra Brown
"Ha!" she shouted to the walls as she descended the staircase in a militant march.
"You can't make a silk ear … a silk purse … oh, whatever," she finished in
exasperation when she couldn't remember how the adage went. All she knew was
that it fit.
She had even felt a twinge of pity for him yesterday when they were looking at the
pictures of her grandparents. He had looked so vulnerable, his hair falling over his
brow in the way that used to make the girls at Gregory High School swoon. His
lower lip had looked even fuller than usual, his eyes more brooding. There had
even been a moment there when she'd been tempted to brush back his hair, offer
him comfort, offer him…
"Never mind," she mumbled. But her brain wasn't listening. In her mind there
was a vivid picture of them lying entwined on the carpeted floor of the master
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suite. She was rendering him the tenderness he needed, and he was rendering her
the passion so absent from her life.
Far too often she thought about his kiss. It had been insulting. She'd dated men,
some over a period of months, but none had ever dared to kiss her in such an
evocative way. It had been the most sexual kiss she'd ever experienced, and she
wished she could forget it.
However, she had the disturbing impression that she would remember it for as
long as she lived. Just as she remembered the night he had brought her home on
his motorcycle so many years ago. There was something about James Paden's
touch that a woman couldn't wash off. It remained on her forever, as indelible an
imprint as a tattoo.
But as memorable as the kiss had been for her, it had been routine and
meaningless to him. He had probably already forgotten it, Laura thought bitterly.
She wondered if he had kissed her only because Tricks had been unavailable that
night.
Before she had time to ruminate more, she heard the distinctive growl of the
sports car's motor. She stood behind the parlor drapes, where she would have a
full view of James and Tricks while staying out of sight.
The car rolled to a stop. Its windows were tinted, so Laura couldn't see inside.
James was the first one out. He went around the rear of the car, looking pridefully
up at the house.
"Show-off," Laura mouthed from her hiding place. And didn't he ever look bad?
This morning's jeans were in slightly better condition than those he'd been
wearing all week to work in. They were starched, and creased down the front of
his trim legs. He had on a polo shirt, but the collar was flipped up, dispelling any
notion that he had gone preppy.
He bent down and opened the passenger car door, extending his hand inside.
Laura caught her lower lip between her teeth and pinched her eyes closed for a
moment before opening them again.
When she did, she went perfectly still and stared blankly at the couple walking
hand in hand up the steps. Out of sheer spite, she had planned to let them wait for
an interminable amount of time on the porch before she answered the doorbell.
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But as soon as the chime pealed through the house, she hurried to the front door
and pulled it open.
"Good morning, Laura."
"Good morning," she answered huskily, not quite sure her voice would work at all.
"I'd like you to meet Tricks," James said, pushing his companion forward. "My
daughter."
Laura and James stared at each other for a lengthy moment before she looked
down at the little girl standing between them.
"Hello, Miss Nolan." She spoke the words carefully and clearly, as though they
had been rehearsed.
Laura's heart melted and there was a tightening in her throat. She knelt down in
front of the child. "Hello. And please call me Laura."
"My real name's Mandy. 'Cept my daddy calls me Tricks." She tilted her head back
to smile up at him.
"Tell her why," he suggested, returning her smile.
Laura noticed that she had wide green eyes, spattered with gold flecks. "He did
magic tricks for me. I liked them so much he started calling me that. But that was
when I was little and now I'm big."
"She got too clever for me," James said, laughing. "She could spot even my most
subtle sleight-of-hand movements."
"Do you like magic tricks?" Mandy asked Laura seriously.
"Very much."
"Maybe my daddy will do some for you sometime. He's real good at it."
Laura glanced up at the object of Mandy's admiration. He was smiling down at his
daughter with unabashed love and adoration. "I'm sure he is." Laura stood up. "I
was just about to have some coffee cake. Would anyone else care for some?"
"I would," Mandy piped up eagerly. Then she winced and glanced up at her father.
"Is it okay, Daddy?"
"As long as Laura invited you to, it's okay."
"Come on, Mandy, I'll show you into the kitchen."
Laura offered the little girl her hand and Mandy took it without a second's
hesitation. She appeared to be a well-adjusted child, harboring no bashfulness
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toward a stranger. Her long hair, the same saddle-brown color as James's, had
been neatly brushed and secured on the sides with barrettes. Her sundress was
spotlessly clean, the ruffles ironed. She was wearing a pair of sandals on her
plump little feet.
* * *
"This sure is a big house," she said with awe as they passed through the dining
room.
"You'll know your way around in no time," Laura assured her with a smile. "See,
here's the kitchen already."
They stepped into the sunny room, and Laura offered Mandy a chair at the table.
She hadn't planned on serving the Tricks of the marabou and pillows anything but
a surly disposition, but thanks to Sara Lee, she produced the promised coffee cake
and sliced Mandy a generous portion. She placed a tall glass of milk beside the
plate and furnished her with a napkin and fork. James declined the cake, but
Laura poured them coffee and they joined his daughter at the table.
Mandy ate with the universal childish appreciation of anything sweet, but had
good table manners. When a chunk of cake fell off her fork into her lap, she
looked up at James contritely. "That's all right, Tricks," he said softly. "It was an
accident. Just slip it back onto your plate."
"How old are you, Mandy?" Laura asked to smooth over the rough spot.
"Five and a half. Do you have a Cabbage Patch doll?"
"Uh, no," Laura said, laughing slightly. "Do you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Say, 'Yes, ma'am.'"
She covered her mouth with a chubby hand. "I forgot."
James winked at her, letting her know he was reminding, not scolding, her. She
beamed a smile at him and turned back to Laura. "My doll's name is Annmarie. I
brought her with me, but Daddy
said she had to wait in the car. Do you think she
can see our new room later?"
"Of course."
"I think you're pretty."
"Thank you, Mandy. I think you are too. "
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"Daddy said you were pretty, but I was afraid you'd be old, or something."
Laura wouldn't have looked at James then to save her life. "If you're finished with
your cake, why don't you let me show you through the house?"
The child was eager to explore, though she seemed intimidated at first by the
immensity of the rooms. By the time they reached the second story, however, she
had overcome her timidity and her eyes were shining.
"Is this going to be my room?" she squealed, racing into Laura's bedroom. Ruffled
skirt bouncing, she dashed to the windows, then to the cheval glass in the corner,
then to the dresser, then to the bed. "It looks like a princess's room. Is this where
I'll sleep, Daddy?"
"We'll see," he said, noticing the sad expression on Laura's face. "Right now I want
to show you around outside."
"Let me see if I know my way to the front door," Mandy said, running between
James and Laura.
"Enjoy your tour. I'll see you later," Laura said quietly as James followed his
daughter out of the bedroom.
"Aren't you coming?"
Laura shook her head.
Mandy, overhearing, paused at the top of the stairs. "Oh, please, Laura. Please.
Daddy said you know everything about In – Indi— about this house."
James's compelling eyes seconded his daughter's plea. One pair of those green
eyes Laura might have resisted, but not two. "All right."
The three of them trooped outside. Mandy beat a path to the shore of the sound,
but waited obediently, if impatiently, when James called for her not to go farther
without him. After they walked the length of the pier and back, they toured the
empty stables – the horses had been the first to go when Laura realized the
financial situation she was in.
"Can I have a pony, Daddy?"
"They require a lot of attention. Would you take care of one?"
Mandy nodded solemnly. "I promise."
"Then I'll keep my eye out for a pony that needs a home."
Shrieking in delight, Mandy made a mad dash for the swing that hung from the
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massive branches of the live oak tree. James pushed her in it. Her giggles were
infectious. By the time he was worn out, Laura was leaning against the trunk of
the tree, smiling.
"Congratulations on her, James. She's wonderful. "
"She is, isn't she?" He felt it was his right to be boastful. For a moment Laura and
he watched Mandy as she addressed a snail making his slow progress across the
ground.
"I wish you had told me about her," Laura remarked in mild reproach. "I would
have been spared the shock."
His attention switched from his child to the woman standing beside him. She was
self-consciously plucking leaves off the lowest branches of the tree. "It shocked
you to find out I had a daughter?"
"Frankly, yes."
He leaned forward and whispered seductively, "Do you doubt my potency?"
She blushed and tried to laugh off his question. "Of course not."
"I'll be glad to demonstrate it."
"James!" she admonished. "It's just that you don't quite fit my image of a doting
parent."
He looked chagrined. "That's reasonable. In my rebellious youth I swore I'd never
be shackled. "
"Obviously you aren't."
"Aren't what? Shackled?"
"You said you weren't married."
"I'm not."
"Oh."
He was amused by her discretion. "If you want to know about Mandy's mother,
why don't you come right out and ask?"
"What about Mandy's mother?"
Her blunt question surprised him, and he laughed. But his face became serious
when he began to speak. "I didn't mention either of them because I didn't want
you to have any preconceived notions."
Mandy was obviously illegitimate, but Laura would never cruelly label a child, and
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she took umbrage at his thinking she would. "I'm not as narrow-minded as that."
All she was guilty of was consumptive curiosity over the woman who had borne
James Paden a child whether she was married to him or not. "Is she with you?"
"Who? Mandy's mother? God forbid."
"You mean…" Laura was at a loss. "I don't understand. "
He braced his shoulder against the trunk of the tree and gazed down at her.
"Look, Laura, she was a tramp, okay? A groupie who followed race-car drivers
around the circuit. She hung out in the bars we all patronized at night. She was
available and on the make. Usually I'm more discriminating than that, but one
night I got careless, a little drunk, and she ended up in my bed."
Laura, unable to maintain eye contact, lowered hers to his throat. He really had
lived beyond the pale. He had moved in circles she couldn't even fathom. His
lifestyle was as like hers as an Eskimo's to a Bedouin's. How many women had
ended up in his bed, carelessly or otherwise? And foolishly she had read so much
into a single kiss!
"Anyway," he said, recapturing her attention, "she managed to latch on and I was
too indifferent to send her away. When she told me she was pregnant, I reacted
typically. I was furious. Primarily I wanted to know if the kid was mine. When she
swore to me it was, I accepted the responsibility for it. But all she demanded of me
was money for an abortion."
He looked at Mandy, his eyes distant. "Then, hell, I don't know what happened to
me." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I got to thinking, you know?
That was my kid. And we were planning to kill it before it even had a chance to
live. God knows life can be rough, but everybody should be granted the chance to
give it a shot."
He didn't wait for Laura to respond. He was still rationalizing that
uncharacteristic decision he had made to keep his child.
"So I told Mandy's mother I wanted her to have the baby. The bitch carried on for
weeks, saying she didn't want to be pregnant. Finally she reconciled herself to my
stubbornness. To shut her up, I promised her a hefty amount of money and her
freedom once the baby was born. I even browbeat her into marrying me so the
baby would be legitimate."
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He glanced down at the crown of Laura's head. She stood still with head bowed,
listening. "Those nine months were the longest I've ever spent in my life. There
were plenty of times when I regretted my decision. I wanted that bitch out of my
life. But then I'd start thinking about the baby and that would give me the stamina
to tolerate i
ts mother for another day. Then another, until Mandy was born."
An uncontainable smile broke across his face when he turned his head to look at
his daughter again. "She was worth it. Lord, she was beautiful."
"What happened to her mother?" Laura asked hoarsely, incredibly moved by the
story.
He shrugged. "As soon as she was able, she split and got a quickie, uncontested
divorce, giving me sole custody of Mandy. I saw her several times after that,
hanging out around the race tracks. But that was several years ago. She wants
nothing to do with us. And that's fine with me."
"But Mandy's her child!" Laura couldn't believe the woman's disregard for her
own baby.
"Someone with your values can't understand that kind of desertion, but she was
worthless. I wasn't exaggerating when I said she was a tramp."
"Once you got successful in business—"
"Oh, she tried to get money from me. Once. I nipped that in the bud."
The fierceness of his expression indicated to Laura that she was better off not
asking exactly how he had "nipped" it. "Was it difficult for you to handle the baby
alone?"
"By the time Mandy came along, I could afford to hire a nanny. But the transient
lifestyle was no good. That's why I gave up racing. Besides, it was too dangerous."
Laura gazed up at him with dawning realization. "That's when you started caring
whether you lived or died."
"Yes," he said softly. "That's when I started feeling fear. I didn't want to make
Mandy an orphan. So I went into business. The rest you know."
"You never considered giving her up for adoption? I mean, I can understand your
wanting to give her life. But you took on a tremendous responsibility."
He laughed in self-derision. "I know it sounds crazy, but I wanted my baby very
much, regardless of who her mother was."
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"Why, James?"
"I think," he began slowly, "it was because when I was a kid, I never had anything
brand-new. Anything I ever owned was secondhand. It had belonged to someone
else before it was passed down to me." His fingers closed into a fist. "She was
mine. She belonged to me. And she would love me. "
He drew himself up, defensive because he had revealed too much of himself. "I
guess someone like you would find that hard to understand."
