by Nancy Gideon
Her breath escaped in a quiet whoosh as the pistol returned to the tabletop.
Rueben nodded. “You’ll remain here to incubate this child. When it’s born, we’ll have no further need of you. You can go do whatever you like as long as you do it elsewhere.”
Then she’d be free to go. Not now. Maybe later. Wasn’t that her quickly hatched plan? Conceived with the same urgent lack of foresight, in a moment of passion, as the child had been? A five- or six-month sentence here with the Guedrys, then back to her own life, to pursuing her own interests. A chance to explore a future with Giles without the reminder of her past lover to wedge between them, along with the dangerous complications his child would bring.
Her gaze was pulled toward her bold human, and there it lingered, detailing his fearless stance and calm visage, getting lost in his compelling stare. Wasn’t that what she wanted? What he wanted? She’d been prepared to deliver Oscar Babineau to the Terriots. Didn’t the same reasoning apply to her decision here? A moment of sacrifice for the good of all.
Here, Daniel’s child would lead the charmed life of his father. Rueben would appoint the best care, the best education, and see that the boy lacked for nothing. He would be protected from any outside danger. She knew she could count on Rueben for that, too, even if he wouldn’t personally furnish that affection.
All she had to do was let the child go, the way her mother had with Tina. The best result for everyone concerned.
Or so she’d thought until she recalled her conversations with her half sister. Remembered the way Tina had embraced her and Silas with such desperate affection because they were her family.
Who would be there to supply that love and sense of belonging to her child? The guidance that would assure he’d grow up to be a good man in control of the Guedry power?
Her palm pressed unbidden to her flat belly. There was no indication of the life growing within. Not yet. Birth was a distant concept, as was motherhood. She’d felt no stirring of emotional attachment. Perhaps she wasn’t capable of it. Wasn’t that what she’d told Nica?
She pictured her sister-in-law, the most independent female she knew, the way her features glowed and her eyes warmed with love for that tiny creation she carried. At one time, Brigit would have considered Nica foolish for forfeiting her freedom.
But now what she experienced was envy. And longing. And a rush of unexpected protectiveness.
Rueben Guedry was not going to buy her child for the price of her freedom.
Her gaze hadn’t left Giles even as her thoughts were preparing her to. Not now. Not later. She blinked away the anguish of that loss and turned resolutely to Rueben.
“I’m more to this child than a slow cooker,” she told him with cool decisiveness. “I’m his mother, and you are not pushing me out of his life for your convenience.”
“Miz MacCreedy, I have no intention of entertaining future dealings with you as part of this arrangement. You will see this child to term, then you will leave him with his family, where he belongs, and have no further contact.”
“I am his family.” She staked that claim firm and deep. “I may not seem like maternal material at the moment, but I had good teachers. I’ve got time to remember and learn. My child stays with me, and if I have to remain here under your tender loving house arrest for that to happen, I’m prepared to.”
Rueben’s long fingers began to caress the grip of his pistol almost longingly.
“I think you’re both missing the bigger picture here.”
Giles’s calm tone wedged between their growing antagonism like a maul strike. They looked to him, Brigit hopefully, Rueben with suspicion.
“And what picture might that be?” Rueben asked.
“We’re talking about a child who could be the symbol of unity the clans have been searching for. A child with ties to the Guedry, Terriot, and New Orleans clans. I’m sure that would be a nice little bargaining chip for you to possess, Mr. Guedry, but I’m stepping in as a representative of New Orleans to offer Miz MacCreedy sanctuary for herself and her child as long as she needs it.”
Rueben’s black eyes narrowed. “You seem to be overlooking the fact that you’re not exactly here as my guests. I’d say that tips the bargaining table in my favor.”
“For the moment, maybe, but not for the long run. Silas MacCreedy is in Nevada parlaying with Bram Terriot, who’s long been his sponsor. You might be able to stand against one of us or the other, but both of us together will crush you.”
“And why would the Terriots side with you?”
“They don’t like you. And they don’t want to see you running New Orleans, any more than you want to see them gain a toehold there. And we’d just as soon you both stay the hell out of our backyard. Now, we can squabble amongst ourselves and stay weak and kill each other, or we can all just get along and concentrate on your real enemy in the North.”
Rueben was listening but not ready to commit. “I do a nice business with our friends in the North.”
“Do you? Or are they using you as a willing tool against your own kind?”
“Giles,” Brigit interrupted, “Rueben is too smart to be a puppet to the Chosen. I’m sure the association is only to keep his clan protected and not for any greedy personal monetary reward.”
That made Rueben smile, a broad flash of teeth that softened the harshness of his face with a hint of humor and, yes, devastating charm. “I think you’re giving me a little too much credit, Miz MacCreedy.”
“I was making allowances for reasonable capitalistic gain, of course.”
“I’m sure you were.” His posture relaxed as he studied her more tolerantly. “So your brother is making deals with Bram to benefit your adopted clan.”
“And our family. Silas is all about family. Something to remember in your future dealings with him. I’m carrying his nephew.”
“I shall remember.”
“You might also remember that my name is Brigit.”
“I do. Thank you for giving me leave to be so familiar.” He tapped steepled fingertips together as his calculating gaze traveled between his two visitors. “I’m not sure I like being left out of these clan discussions.”
“I think we can arrange for a mutually beneficial meeting,” Giles offered, “if you’d like to visit us in New Orleans.”
Reuben smiled at Giles, a brief upturn of thinned lips. “I’d appreciate you facilitating that hospitality. If we’re to do business together, I assume you and yours will be protecting our interests here in Memphis.”
“We will. And you’ll return that favor.”
“I will. Isn’t this nice? One big happy family seeing to each other’s needs. Not that I don’t trust our burgeoning friendship, but I’ll insist on having one of my people placed on the inside of your organization. Just to keep the flow of communication going. Would that create a problem?”
“None. We’d welcome the exchange of ideas.”
“Good. I think I’ll send Mr. Thorne . . . unless you’ve killed him.”
Brigit stiffened at the thought of her nemesis so near.
Giles seemed unaffected. “We had a brief discussion, but I think he’ll recover.”
“Good. Then I believe we have an accord.” He smiled at Brigit, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You let your brother know I’ll expect to be hearing from him soon.”
“I’m sure you will be.”
“And that you left my care unharmed, in Mr. St. Clair’s company, if that be your desire.”
No question there. “It is.”
“I shall be keeping close tabs on my clan’s heir.” Reuben turned to Giles, his expression never changing. “And you, sir, will be assuming responsibility for my cousin many times removed and her child on behalf of Savoie?”
“Personally. And for my family, the St. Clairs, who are also of your clan. I won’t tolerate any manhandling or interference there. I’ll expect you to direct your dealings with them through me.”
“And me.” Boyd stepped b
oldly into the room and the conversation. “I’ll be remaining here as my cousin’s eyes and ears in Memphis. To keep that communication open.” He winked at Giles. “Boyd St. Clair. It will be a pleasure working with you, Mr. Guedry.”
“We shall see about that.” Rueben regarded his guests wearily. “I do insist upon that paternity test before you return to New Orleans, Bridget.”
“Bri-zheet,” she and Giles corrected together.
“I apologize. Brigit. About that test?”
“Of course. Is there someplace I could rest up first? It’s been a tiring day.”
“I’ll have rooms prepared for you and both Misters St. Clair on ten. One of my people will meet you there.” He waved a dismissing hand at Giles and Brigit, then turned to the third of their party. “Boyd, is it?”
“Yessir.”
“Stay and have dinner with me so’s we can get acquainted. After I make sure Mr. Thorne is still breathing.”
“I’d be happy to, Mr. Guedry,” Boyd replied with an anticipating grin.
They rode down in the elevator side by side, like two strangers leaving behind a hard day at work.
“Did Silas send you after me?” Brigit asked at last, her stare fixed on the digital display of numbers flashing by. “Did he make me your obligation again?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be grateful that you once again stepped in his place between me and disaster.”
“I didn’t come here as a stand-in for your brother.”
Giles let her think about that for a long moment as he considered how best to proceed. Her quick breaths were audible, betraying an agitation she was trying to conceal behind her curt tone. He’d thought at first that she was glad to see him, but perhaps it was gratitude for stepping between her and a bullet. After that, she’d pushed all emotions behind her well-practiced surface shell. Did she resent his interference in her dealings with Guedry? Fear his reprisal for her actions? Or was she simply annoyed that he yet again stood between her and the path she desired? The complexity that so attracted him could prove damned inconvenient.
But it didn’t change their circumstances.
She was here with him, placed in his care. And so he would advance with extreme caution until she revealed her true feelings.
The doors opened on the tenth floor. An unsmiling female in a severe black suit was waiting for them. She wordlessly gestured for them to follow her to a double door opening into a huge suite. She pressed three key cards into Giles’s hand with a request that he call if they needed anything.
His gaze followed Brigit as she crossed to the wall of glass overlooking the city. What more could he possibly need?
Keeping an eye on her rigid back, he took stock of the rooms they’d been provided. On one side were two smaller bedrooms that shared a bath, and on the other a large room with a sprawling king bed and an inviting Jacuzzi. His immediate goal was to get them both behind the closed doors of the one big room as soon as possible. If she was of the same mind.
It didn’t start out well as she announced, “I didn’t want you to come after me.”
Ouch.
“I’m here now. That’s all that matters.”
“Didn’t the fact that I left without a message clue you in?”
“You know me. As intuitive as a box of rocks.”
“I suppose you’re very pleased with yourself, having proven how helpless and needy I am, how incapable of handing my own affairs.”
He smiled to himself. Prickly pride he could deal with. “I’m sure you had everything going just as you’d planned it. Other than that potential bullet-to-the-head thing.”
“So you expect me to be relieved that you showed up in time to stop me from selling my baby. I mean, what’s to stop a heartless female who was willing to use her own nephew from trading her unborn child?”
She looked at him then, her eyes filled with agony. “That was what you thought, wasn’t it?”
twenty-three
“No,” Giles said softly. He shook his head. “Never.”
That was what she was afraid he’d thought. That was why she didn’t want him to come near her.
“Then you’re a fool,” she spat, “because that’s exactly what I was doing. I came here to give Rueben my child to save my ass. What kind of decent woman would do that?”
“One who was scared and didn’t think she had anywhere else to turn or anyone to turn to.”
She took an anguished breath, then turned her back to him again. “That was the last thing I wanted, someone else to tell me what I should do. I’m sick to death of all the interfering, of all the expectations and disappointments. Everyone wanting something from me but no one caring what I want. That’s what this baby was going to do. Make demands and expect me to meet them. Well, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. Imagine me all fat and clumsy, wearing those hideous sacky dresses, getting stretch marks, swollen ankles, not being able to wear pretty shoes.”
“How awful,” Giles commiserated gently.
“Getting up in the middle of the night for some wet, wailing little tyrant. Cleaning up poopy butts and snotty noses. Having to come running every time he screams ‘M-m-mama.’ ” Her tense shoulders hitched, began to tremble, then squared with conviction. “Not me. No way. What kind of mama would I make for some poor baby? Better to get out from under that whole burden before I got attached to the idea. Imagine, me a mother.”
“Yes.”
She went very still.
“I think you’d be perfect for the job.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, then snarled, “Well, you’re wrong.”
“I’ve been wrong before,” he told her mildly. “But not about this.”
“Well, you’re a fool.”
“Probably. Is that why you talked to Nica instead of me?”
“I was just making conversation with her.”
“You were just wondering, if someone as tough and self-sufficient as your sister-in-law could take so happily to motherhood, why couldn’t you?”
“It’s easy for her. She has Silas. He’ll be such a wonderful father and take such good care of them both.”
Her words struck Giles like a shotgun blast, dropping him in his optimistic tracks. “And all you’d have is me. Is that it?”
She turned at his tight summation, her large dark eyes wide with surprise. “No. That’s not it at all.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Giles asked.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested in my plans.”
He let her clipped attitude pass for the moment. “You’d be wrong.”
“I’ve been wrong before.” Her chin jutted defiantly as she tossed his words back at him.
“Wrong to run out without telling me the truth.”
“I didn’t know,” she answered tersely. “Not until the other day. Not for sure.”
When they’d gone to see Max. And she’d risked herself for a complete stranger. For Silas. For . . . him. Her agitation and distance after the examination by Susanna made sense now. She’d found out she was pregnant. And was afraid.
That night they’d spent together, she’d been testing him. And somehow he’d failed her.
“I’ve never been a like-clockwork female,” she continued uncomfortably, looking toward the window again but not turning away. “I thought it was the stress. I didn’t want to believe it was anything else. And then I was scared to find out that it was. How could I have been so careless?”
“Is that the truth?” His voice dropped a notch lower. “Is there a chance that it’s mine?”
Her gaze flashed up, bright and glassy, then away again. “No. If it were, do you think I would have left?”
“I don’t know, Bree. I don’t know why you left me at all.”
She drew a determined breath, her posture stiffening. “I’m carrying the Guedry heir apparent.”
“Ahh. I see. Having the backing of a powerful Shifter family is a helluva lot more impor
tant than an insignificant human.”
“Dammit, Giles, you know that’s not the reason. I left because—” Her voice choked off. “It doesn’t matter.”
He crossed to her then. She stood tense and wary but didn’t try to retreat as he came near. Nearer still. “Because why?” he prompted gently as his hand settled on her arm, his fingers caressing along its softly delicate underside. She shivered but didn’t pull away.
“Because I’d caused you and your family enough pain. I risked all their lives. It’s because of me that you went to kill the man you thought of as a father.”
“That had nothing to do with you,” he argued in a tender tone. “I didn’t kill him, Brigit. That was why I went there, and I can’t say he didn’t deserve it. But I couldn’t take his life and destroy my family for something he’d done years ago in a foolish but well-meaning mistake.”
“I know.”
He’d reached her hand and curled his about it. “How did you know?”
“Because that’s not the kind of man you are.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I almost was.” So close it terrified him to think of the strength of that black rage. He’d almost given up everything. “Do you know what stopped me?” When she shook her head, he smiled. “You did. I knew I could never have a future with you if I let that kind of darkness get out of control again. And do you know what else I found out?”
“What?” she whispered, her eyes damp and glistening.
“I’m not a bad guy. Neither of us is what we saw in ourselves.”
“But I was going to—”
“But you didn’t. You couldn’t give away that child any more than I could pull that trigger. That’s not who we are anymore, now that we have each other.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.
“My mama wants me to bring you back for a visit. I can’t disappoint her.”
“After all the trouble I caused them? I can’t expect them to forgive me. Or accept another man’s child.”
She was really talking about his opinion, his forgiveness—not that of his family. He could read the desperate hope in her gaze.
