Stormy Vows

by Iris Johansen

  “Why did you want to see me?” she asked bluntly.

  “You're not being very hospitable,” he complained mockingly. “Aren't you going to offer me a drink?”

  She drew an impatient breath, and said quickly, “No, I'm not going to offer you a drink. I don't want you here. Please state your business and get out.”

  His mouth twisted, and his gray eyes took on an ugly glint. “You always were an uppity bitch.” he said sneeringly. “You never did like me, did you, little sister?”

  “No, I never did,” she said flatly. “I like you even less now. Why are you here?”

  He crossed the room and seated himself in the lavender wing chair without asking permission. “I want the kid,” he said mockingly. “I've decided it's time I heard the patter of little feet around my lonely bachelor pad.”

  She stared at him incredulously. “You can't be serious,” she said scornfully.

  “Oh, but I am,” he said, lazily stretching his legs out before him. “I've gone to a great deal of time and trouble to track the kid down. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm not totally sincere in my devotion.”

  He took a gold cigarette case out of his jacket pocket, selected a cigarette and lit it leisurely. “I actually started out looking for Janine. Then I found out that she was dead, and that you had the child. Then I had to trace your whereabouts,” he said complainingly. “It's all been a complete bore.”

  “How sorry we are to inconvenience you,” Brenna said ironically.

  “I should think you would be,” he said pettishly, ignoring her sarcasm. “After all, I am willing to take the kid off your hands.”

  “The ‘kid's' name is Randy,” she said, between clenched teeth.

  “I know. I know,” Chadeaux said impatiently. “Your landlady told me that. “Run along and get him, will you? I want to get the night coach back to San Francisco.”

  Brenna's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “San Francisco? I thought you lived in Los Angeles.”

  He shrugged, his eyes sliding away from hers. “I thought I'd drop Randy off at the Chadeaux vineyards. He'll be better off with my family.”

  “You couldn't care less about Randy,” Brenna charged bitterly. “Why do you really want him, Paul?”

  An unpleasant smile touched his full lips. “I don't really have to answer to you,” he said arrogantly. “But I will. Why not?”

  He drew on his cigarette lazily. “My grandmother is all hung up on this dynasty thing. She's been nagging me for years to marry and settle down. They want a fitting heir for the Chadeaux Wineries. One they can mold into the good little boy I never was,” he said sneeringly. “The old lady has already told me that unless I provide her with an heir, she'll stop my allowance and cut me out of her will.”

  “Don't you think she'll object to an illegitimate child?” Brenna said caustically. “I seem to remember that you told my sister that you'd refuse to acknowledge the baby if Janine went to your family.”

  “Situations change,” he said with satisfaction. “The old lady is getting desperate. She'll welcome the kid with open arms. She's even promised to settle up my gambling debts.”

  “Providing you give her Randy,” Brenna said grimly, her face mirroring her rage and disgust.

  Her contempt pierced even Chadeaux's thick ego. “Get the kid!” he ordered angrily.

  “Go to hell!” Brenna said deliberately. “Randy is mine now, and I'm not giving him up.”

  Chadeaux's face flushed with anger. “Listen, bitch,” he said coldly. “I'm the kid's father. You're just his aunt. I have a right to him.”

  “You forfeited any rights you had before he was born,” Brenna said. “I wouldn't turn a stray dog over to you, much less a small child.”

  “You may not have a choice. The Chadeaux family have very important connections in California. I think any court in the state will lean toward the natural father over the claim of some little actress.”

  She smiled sweetly. “But then it's up to you to prove that you're the natural father, isn't it? I think you'll find that a little difficult.”

  His eyes narrowed warily. “What the hell do you mean? Janine told me I was the father.”

  “And you rejected her,” Brenna said bitterly, her mouth curling . “Is it any wonder that Janine refused to name the father on Randy's birth certificate?”

  He shrugged. “I can get around that. There are plenty of witnesses that knew Janine and I were having an affair at the time. I'm the only logical candidate.”

  Brenna smiled triumphantly. “You would be, if it was Janine Sloan that gave birth to Randy,” she said softly. “But according to the birth certificate, she didn't. Brenna Sloan did.”

  Chadeaux's mouth gaped open. “You're lying,” he accused angrily. “That's totally absurd. Why would Janine do a crazy thing like that.”

  “Perhaps in the end she was a little crazy,” Brenna said, her eyes clouded with pain. “Crazy with fear and rejection and loneliness. Crazy to protect the one human being that was to be hers alone. I thought it was insane, too, but now I wonder if she somehow knew that Randy would need to be protected from you.”

  Chadeaux jumped to his feet, his fists clenched. “You won't get away with this,” he snapped. “I need that kid, and I'll find a way of getting him. You're just making it a little more difficult. I'll hire detectives who will punch a million holes in your story. They'll turn up a dozen witnesses who will swear you're not Randy's mother.”

  Brenna felt a chill at the threat, but she couldn't let him know he'd frightened her. “It will take a long time to do that,” she said coolly. “Do you really have that much time? I believe you mentioned something about gambling debts?”

  There was a speculative look in the shallow gray eyes as he looked her over critically. “We might come to an agreement,” he said slowly. “You want the kid. I need the money. Grandmother wants me settled with a wife and family. What do you say we make everybody happy? Why don't we fly to Vegas and get married?”

  Brenna could feel the blood drain from her face in shock. “You must be mad,” she whispered. “I can't stand the sight of you.”

  “I'm not overly fond of you, either,” Paul said caustically. “You're too independent. I was going to make the offer to Janine, when I found her. She was much more my type.”

  Suddenly Brenna couldn't stand any more. She felt sick at the sight of him.

  “Get out!” she said harshly. “I don't ever want to see you again.”

  “Well, that's too bad,” he said nastily. “Because you're going to see a hell of a lot of me in the next few months. In court and out, little sister!”

  “If you don't leave, I'll call security to force you to go,” Brenna said tensely.

  “Oh, I'm leaving,” Chadeaux said, as he bent to crush out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the table. “But don't think I won't be back.” He strolled casually over to the door, and turned to look at her as he opened it.

  There was such a malevolent viciousness in his expression that she caught her breath in fear. “Good-bye, little sister! See you soon.”

  As the door closed she flew over to it and locked it hurriedly, as if to lock out the threat that had been evident in Chadeaux's last statement. He meant it. Chadeaux would stop at nothing to get Randy, now that he saw an advantage in it. There was no way she could let the little boy fall into those carelessly cruel hands, she thought frantically. She walked into the living room, pacing agitatedly back and forth, trying to see some solution to the problem. She hadn't a doubt that given time, Chadeaux could produce the witnesses he needed to press his claim. Janine's ploy had been flimsy at best. How could Brenna stop him if he actually took her to court? His arguments had merit. The Chadeaux family had great wealth and power. How could she possibly fight them if it came to a custody battle? She froze, as an even worse thought came to her. What if Chadeaux got an injunction giving him temporary custody of Randy pending the outcome of the trial?

  She whirled, and ran into the
bedroom. She took two suitcases out of the closet and threw them on the bed before picking up the telephone extension and dialing reception. “Paula, this is Brenna Sloan. I've got to leave at once for Los Angeles. An emergency. Will you contact Doris and have her pack for Randy, and have him ready to leave in twenty minutes? And I'll need Johnny to drive me to Portland to get a flight.” Paula Drummond answered with her usual bright efficiency, expressing polite concern before she hung up.

  Brenna started to fill the open suitcase, tossing in the clothes with no regard to neatness or order. She was well aware it was panic that spurred her to this rash decision, but what else could she do? Her only chance of keeping Randy from Chadeaux was to disappear with Randy and hide. It was only money that motivated Chadeaux's desire for Randy. If she could remain under-cover long enough, Chadeaux would have to find another solution to his money problems. Then, perhaps, he would consider the child the burden and annoyance he had previously.

  She had filled one suitcase and was halfway through with the second, when there was a knock on the front door. That would be Johnny. She started to call out for him to come in, when she realized that she had locked the door. “Just a minute, Johnny.” She hurriedly crossed to the door to let him in.

  Michael Donovan brushed her aside and strode into the cottage. He crossed to the open bedroom door, and, with a raking glance, took in the open suitcases and the hurried preparations for departure. He turned slowly, and Brenna flinched at his furious expression and blazing eyes. In their short acquaintance she had seen him angry many times, but never like this. He looked like a dangerous animal ready to spring.

  “Johnny won't be coming,” he said softly. “I told Paula I would attend to everything.”

  Brenna bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “Does Paula always act as a spy for you?” she asked shakily. The sight of him had been a shock that threatened to vanquish the little control she still had over her emotions.

  “Not always,” Donovan said harshly. “Let's just say, she knew I'd be interested in your little emergency!” His leashed anger broke through it's bonds. “My God! That bastard only had to get you alone for an hour, to make you go running back to him like a bitch in heat. Don't you have any pride or self-respect? The son of a bitch got you pregnant and then deserted you!”

  She was stunned. He actually thought she was running to Chadeaux instead of away from him. The ridiculousness of the surmise seemed wildly funny in her desperate state, and she laughed hysterically.

  It was a mistake. In two strides he had reached her, his hands gripping her shoulders brutally as he shook her. “Shut up, damn you!” he rasped, his eyes like hot coals in his white face. “Do you think I'm just going to let you walk away from me? You're not going to him. I'll stop you any way I can.” His eyes were tormented as they ran over her contemptuously. “Look at you. You couldn't wait to get rid of me, so that you could dress up for him. Did it work? Did he think you were even more beautiful than he remembered? Is that why he asked you to come back to him?”

  “No! no! You've got it all wrong. I'd never do that. I couldn't.” Tears were running down her cheeks as the last of her fragile control vanished. “I hate him,” she said brokenly. Suddenly she collapsed against him, clinging to his rock-like strength with desperation, her body wracked with sobs.

  Donovan was frozen with surprise for a long moment, and then his arms went slowly around her to hold her securely. “Then why are you going back to him?” he asked bluntly. “Does he have some kind of hold on you? For God's sake, tell me what's wrong, Brenna.”

  “He wants Randy,” she said baldly. “He's going to take Randy away from me.” She stepped back reluctantly from that magically warming embrace, and immediately felt alone and vulnerable again. “I was trying to run away from him,” she said wearily.

  “You were also running away from me,” Donovan said coolly. “And any chance you might have for a career. Do you think any film-maker in the business would take a chance on you again, once it got around that you'd run out before the picture was finished?”

  “No, I guess I didn't think at all,” Brenna admitted huskily. “But I still would have done the same thing if I had. I can't let Paul Chadeaux get his hands on Randy.” She wiped her eyes childishly with the back of her hand.

  “No one is going to take your child away from you,” Donovan said with conviction. “I won't let them. If you had come to me instead of flying into a panic, I'd have told you that.”

  She shook her head ruefully at the sheer royal arrogance of the man. It would not happen, because Donovan did not will it so. Long live Michael Donovan. In spite of herself, she couldn't help being a little reassured by his boundless confidence. Aside from their burgeoning personal relationship, Donovan had a business interest in seeing that Brenna Sloan completed his picture on schedule. He would bend the same ruthless energy to her problem as to any other obstacle that got in his way.

  She opened her lips to confess that Randy was not her child but Janine's. She knew he was entitled to know everything, if she was going to solicit his help. Under the circumstances, Janine would surely forgive her for breaking her promise. Suddenly Brenna was beset by doubts. Would Donovan be as eager to help her if he knew the child wasn't hers? He had no affection for Randy. Wouldn't he, like everyone else, think that she should turn Randy over to his natural father? She couldn't take the chance. Randy was too important to her.

  Donovan strolled over to the bar and made himself a drink. Pouring her a small whiskey, he returned to hand it to her.

  She accepted it, a small smile curving her lips. “This seems to be your day for plying me with liquor,” she said.

  “You need it,” he said curtly. “Now suppose you tell me why you think Chadeaux has a chance of gaining custody of Randy. Didn't you say the father wasn't named on the birth certificate?”

  Not looking at him, Brenna briefly related Chadeaux's threats. She purposely did not mention Janine, leaving Donovan to assume that it was Chadeaux's intention to hire detectives to find witnesses to their affair that had so terrified her.

  “That's all?” Donovan asked, his eyes narrowed on her flushed face. “You're sure he wasn't trying to blackmail you? He didn't offer to leave Randy with you for a consideration?”

  Brenna shook her head, relieved that he had mistaken her guilt for distress. She made a face. “He made an offer,” she admitted dryly. “But I couldn't take marriage with Paul Chadeaux even for Randy.”

  Donovan looked at his drink. “Marriage,” he said thoughtfully. “The bastard must know you very well. In time, when you'd gotten desperate enough, you might have given in to even that. It's obvious you'd do anything for the child.” He took a long swallow of his drink. “It makes you very vulnerable, Brenna. I can see that I'm going to have to build a fence around you to keep out the predators.”

  “A fence?” Brenna asked blankly.

  “I'm going to marry you myself,” Donovan said coolly.

  She felt her heart lurch, and the blood rush dizzily to her head. “That's not very funny,” she said breathlessly, moistening her lips.

  “It wasn't intended to be,” Donovan said calmly. “I've just offered you a solution to your problem. Marriage to me would safeguard your claim to Randy, and protect you from any further harassment from Chadeaux. I know how to take care of my own.”

  “He could still locate those witnesses and push his claim to Randy.”

  His eyes were totally ruthless. “Not if I claim that I'm Randy's father. I don't relish the idea of casting myself as a seducer of a teenage Lolita, but I imagine my word would be taken over Chadeaux's. I pour a lot of money into the state's economy, and I have a few friends in high places.”

  Brenna's eyes were wide with shock. “No one would believe you,” she said. “I didn't even know you three years ago.”

  Donovan shrugged. “Who's to know that?” he asked sardonically. “For every witness that Chadeaux produces to testify that you were his mistress, I'll have two to
swear you were mine. In case you haven't heard, money talks!”

  “You'd pay someone to perjure themselves?” Brenna asked, aghast.

  “If necessary,” Donovan said bluntly. “Would you rather lose Randy? There are no guarantees that you'll get justice just because you're right. Sometimes justice has to be manipulated.” He smiled tightly. “However, it may not come to that. Your ex-lover seems to be a little on the shady side. I may be able to put the screws on him in some other way. I'll get my lawyers on it tomorrow.” He drained his glass, and set it down on the coffee table. “It would be best if we were married immediately,” he said simply. “Shall we say, three days? That will take care of the waiting period, and give you a chance to finish the picture. I'll send the company doctor by the set tomorrow to take care of the blood test.”

  “Wait!” Brenna protested, holding up her hand distractedly. “I've got to think. It's all going too fast.” Donovan was proceeding with his usual steamroller tactics, and she felt she would be swept away in the wake of his single-minded drive like a leaf in a storm if she didn't slow him down.

  “What's to think about?” Donovan asked impatiently. “You get your son, your career, and a wealthy husband. What more could you want?”

  The bitter cynicism in his face hurt her in some mysterious fashion. “Why are you doing this?” she asked bewilderedly. “Yes, I'm getting all that, but what are you getting out of this marriage?”

  The blue eyes were suddenly impenetrable as Donovan considered her question. “What am I getting?” His mouth twisted cynically. “I'm getting Brenna Sloan in my bed until I tire of her. I get a chance to work off this obsession I have for you. Closeness has been known to kill stone dead more than one great passion. Maybe I'll get lucky.”

  “You expect me to…” Brenna blushed, and then was furious with herself when Donovan raised an eyebrow mockingly.