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Baby Bequest

Page 13

by Robyn Grady


  Nevertheless, her fingers clung to his shirt as her eyes roamed his face, drinking in every beautifully chiseled feature, burning the image in her mind. Their short time together seemed to be running away from her like rainwater down a pipe.

  “Thank you, Gage.” Her throat was suddenly thick. “I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done.”

  His gaze settled on her lips while his heartbeat boomed against her palms. “The books are square. As of this minute, we’re even.”

  Of course, that had been his motivation from the start. Not falling in love. Not staying forever, but rather settling a debt. And sampling previously forbidden fruits; to be fair, she’d wanted that too.

  His pale eyes glistened in the afternoon sun. A moment longer and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  “Jenna…I have to go.”

  She forced herself to step back and smile.

  “I know.”

  I know.

  Thirteen

  “No messages, Mr. Cameron.” The building’s desk clerk glanced up from his reception monitor and smiled. “We’ll see you back in Sydney soon, I hope.”

  Gage signed the departure printout with an impatient flourish. “Not for a while.”

  “Would you like us to make your penthouse available for lease to special clients? I had an inquiry today from New York.”

  He snapped the pen down. “Tell you what. It’s for sale. See what you can get for it.”

  When he’d left Jenna yesterday, he’d driven straight here. He’d watched cable, downed two scotches, then fallen into bed…and slept not a wink. He’d tossed and turned every other minute of the long, lonely night. He kept feeling her beside him, seeing her lovely face, smelling the perfume of her hair. Every ounce of sanity was needed to persuade himself he’d done the right thing.

  This morning he’d dressed feeling like a dog’s breakfast—head pounding, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. His muscles ached as if he’d come down with the flu. He never wanted to see those bedroom walls again.

  The concierge strolled up and practically clicked his heels. “Your limousine will arrive shortly, Mr. Cameron. The driver’s checked in and your jet is fueled and ready to depart for your journey to the Emirates.”

  “Very good.” Gage popped a mint then dug into his pocket and slapped a large note into the man’s hand.

  The concierge beamed. “Hope to see you again soon, sir.”

  Gage scowled. He wished people would stop saying that.

  He checked his watch then peered out the twenty-five-foot glass doors to the circular drive and its colorful hedges. He barely noticed the man and his young children trundling into the foyer. Neither did he listen to the conversation the man had with the clerk. He didn’t want to even look at the man. Or the baby he held. Although he guessed it was a girl.

  Roughly Meg’s age.

  The man spoke to him. “Excuse me.”

  Gage frowned. “For what?”

  The man didn’t seem to notice his foul mood. “I need a hand and the boys are too young to hold her. Do you mind? I’ll only be a minute.” He held out a baby dressed in pink.

  Gage counted his heartbeats.

  The last time he’d held a baby he’d gotten into a whole pile of trouble—he’d come close to convincing himself that he might be able to cheat the past and pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

  The man smiled. “She’s fast asleep. I’ll only be a moment.”

  The willowy brunette behind the counter raised a hand. “I can hold her.” She darted out.

  Gage took the baby as the lady reached them.

  He grinned. Too late.

  While the father took care of his business and the disappointed brunette returned to her station, Gage told himself he wouldn’t look down. He was a smart man and his smarts told him that to study this child up close could be dangerous.

  Beside him, the man apologized: Just a little longer.

  Gage nodded.

  Outside, the stretch limo rolled up and the concierge waved to him.

  Uncomfortable, Gage nodded again.

  A film of cool sweat erupted around his suddenly too tight collar. He was leaving. For good. Surely one tiny peek couldn’t hurt. His eye line trailed down and…Gage grinned.

  Not as bad as he’d thought. Nowhere near the tug he’d expected. This baby was cute, but not as cute as Meg. This one’s nose was bigger, and she didn’t have the cleft in her chin that was more defined whenever Meg was asleep. Her hands were similar though. So tiny, with four dimples delineating each knuckle. Such little nails.

  He raised her up then lowered her down.

  Pretty much the same weight too.

  He studied her face again. Rosebud mouth. Did they all suck like that in their sleep? He frowned. Maybe she was hungry. He wouldn’t think about diapers. Diapers he didn’t do. Diapers he left to Jenna.

  The man was speaking to him. “She’s a doll, isn’t she?”

  Gage nodded. “What’s her name?”

  “Sarah.”

  Sarah was a pretty name, but Meg…well, it sounded sweeter.

  “Do you have a family?” the man asked.

  Gage’s insides clenched. The pain—the memories—were so powerful, he almost doubled over.

  He handed Sarah back. “No, I don’t.”

  He strode toward the limo, ears and eyes blocked to the man with his family. A young woman passed him on her way to the desk. Sarah’s mother? She had that look about her. A look of happiness. Completeness.

  What the hell was that like?

  The uniformed driver tipped his cap and opened the door. “Shouldn’t be any traffic holdups, Mr. Cameron.”

  Gage strode right past and down the street.

  He couldn’t get into that car. He needed fresh air and lots of it.

  Grabbing his tie, he wound the knot down then ripped the crimson silk completely from his neck and stuffed it into his pocket.

  What was wrong with him? He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. More. His debt to Raphael was repaid. Jenna wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of her life. She had her baby. She was happy. Most importantly, she wouldn’t have him hanging around screwing with her emotions or her life.

  He strode across the street, ignoring the pedestrian signal, the beeping horns, the annoyed glares.

  God, he wanted her now. Almost enough to convince himself that he could continue to make her happy. But that pleasure had come at a cost. It was pay up now or suffer later. He’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love.

  Now it was no longer safe.

  He found himself at Darling Harbour. He should get out of here, as fast and far as those Learjet engines could carry him. But how could he sort out Dubai when his brain felt ready to explode?

  At the end of a pier, he stopped to hold his head, clamping the ache, willing it to leave. But still the damning thoughts wheedled in.

  All his life he’d wanted to escape…his Leave-it-to-Beaver peers in school, who didn’t know how lucky they were…his poor wasted mother, who’d given up caring years before she’d died. Twelve years ago Gage had wanted to escape Jenna too, or rather had wanted her to be free of him. He’d found out yesterday that Jenna had paid dearly for having known him—a crippling bout of depression. Not so long ago, another woman hadn’t gotten off that lightly.

  Brittany Jackson had been one of his secretaries. On a business weekend away he’d let down his guard, broken his own rule and had slept with the besotted employee. He usually set limits on how long an affair would last. He liked to cut loose before strong attachments could be formed, but Brittany didn’t make waves or demands. On top of that, she was discreet. He’d felt comfortable with her…until the day she’d told him she was pregnant.

  Completely floored, he’d fallen back in his chair. She’d known his mind. He did not want children. They’d always used precautions. What the hell had gone wrong? When she’d cried and run from his Melbourne home, he did
n’t follow. He had important business to conduct overseas. He’d planned to take her, but now he had to think.

  Although they spoke on the phone, he’d stayed overseas for three weeks—quietly angry at her, but angrier at himself. Although he’d felt trapped, there’d been no doubt in his mind that he’d do the right thing—which also happened to be the worst thing. Money aside, what life would they have? He didn’t love this woman. Brittany would grow to resent and perhaps even hate him for his ambivalence. But their child would suffer the most, growing up with a largely absent father and a needy, miserable mother. Hello, twisted sense of self-worth. Come on down, a childhood of shame and rebellion. Man, didn’t that sound familiar.

  When he’d finally returned to Sydney and marched into his office with a rock in his pocket and his proposal prepared, his P.A. walked straight in behind and shut the door. Bad news. Over the weekend, one of his secretaries, Brittany Jackson, had been killed in a car accident.

  The horror had knocked him senseless. He’d put Brittany and his own child in their graves. If he’d taken her with him, they’d have been married and he’d have become a father. Instead, he’d let them down. Just as he’d let his mother and Jenna down when he’d left. Coming back here, all he’d wanted was to make amends. Atone for past mistakes. Find a little peace.

  Gage fell onto his knees.

  He didn’t deserve happiness. Loner. Mystery man. Who was the enigma behind the mask? Gage knew the answer.

  A man who wasn’t sure whether to take a blessing and hold it with both hands, or walk away from disaster while there was still time.

  Jenna stood outside the pool house. She was peering up at the jet inching its way across the dreary gray sky, taking its passengers to heaven knew where, for heaven knew how long.

  The empty ache in her stomach flipped over and she screwed her eyes shut.

  Stay strong. This is the last time you’ll ever need to get over him. No more heartache, for you or for Meg.

  After a long, settling breath, she turned the lock on the pool house door and took in a sweeping view of her childhood home. In the last ten years, she’d been all around the world. So where to now?

  Not the country house that Gage had bought. She’d been happy about living there only when she’d fooled herself into thinking that Gage would live there, too. Now the prospect of settling in that house, filled with its bittersweet memories, was perhaps even worse than staying here.

  She and Meg needed a fresh start. Somewhere where sad remembrances didn’t haunt them and she could give her heart time to mend. Not that the wound would ever completely heal. From the moment she and Gage had locked gazes that summer long ago, she’d belonged to him. Although she would never again know the special magic of his embrace—of his kiss—she belonged to him still. Time and distance could never change that.

  But she had what she’d prayed for—Meg safe and sound with her. That should be more than enough.

  She pocketed the key.

  It was better that Gage had gone. He’d always been a loner, a person who found reasons not to settle down. As much as it pained her, Gage had known best, and he was best shut out of their lives.

  She rotated toward the house and collided with what felt like a solid brick wall. She gazed up into a pair of piercing gray eyes and gasped.

  Her mind and heartbeat skidded to a stop. “What are you doing here?”

  Gage’s chest was pumping as if he’d run a marathon. “I needed to see you.”

  A lock of dark hair had fallen over his brow. Without a tie, his shirt was unbuttoned almost halfway, giving her a tantalizing peek at his chest. That scar on his mouth begged her fingertip to reach out and—

  No!

  She knocked those dangerous thoughts aside and straightened.

  He’d said he needed to see her. Obviously nothing of an intimate nature; yesterday he’d made his final stand on that issue. So, his surprise visit must concern business—her father’s company or the W.A. property.

  She folded her arms. “I know what I said yesterday, but I’m more than capable of taking care of Darley Realty’s concerns from here on.” She offered a tight smile. “Thanks again.”

  She began to circumnavigate the pool on her way to the house.

  “This doesn’t concern Darley Realty.”

  Thinking of the jet that had flown overhead, she looked back. “Why aren’t you on your way to Dubai? Problems over there were supposed to be urgent.”

  He joined her. “They are urgent. But nothing compared to this.”

  A flash of panic raced up her spine. But she knew this couldn’t be about Meg; everything was squared away there. She also knew that saying goodbye to Gage yesterday had been painful enough. If she had to go through it again, better to have it over with quickly, like the drop of a guillotine blade.

  She set her hands on her hips. “What’s this about, Gage?” Spit it out.

  He took her hands from her hips and held them together in his. “I don’t want this to end. What we have is too good to throw away.”

  Even as the physical contact released within her a surge of desperate longing, she set her jaw. Yesterday, he’d vanished from her life—again. From the start, he’d been upfront and she would deal with that…somehow. But now he’d returned, wanting her back in his bed?

  It didn’t work that way.

  “You’re suggesting our mock marriage continue?”

  “Yes.” He frowned and shook his head. “I mean, no.”

  Her smile was as sad as it was dry. “I know what you mean. You want to be able to fly into Sydney and see that my bedroom door is always open.”

  “It’s far more complicated than that.”

  She’d never felt more alive—more like a woman—than when she’d been with him. She hadn’t thought it possible to feel so whole and new. But having her deepest intimate fantasies come true had also made clear what she’d known all along.

  “It’s not so complicated, Gage. You told me, remember? You don’t grow roots.” He didn’t do family. “What we shared was good, but it was temporary.” Now it was over.

  “I want us to be more than temporary.”

  She almost laughed. “You’d like to block off another few weeks in your calendar?”

  She flinched at her own shrewish tone, but her sarcasm covered red, raw pain. He was playing with her heart. Damn it, she was worth more than that.

  Her eye line dropped. Her fingers were clutching his as though her life depended on it.

  Mortified, she stepped back. “You should go.”

  He planted his feet shoulder-width apart. “I can’t.”

  “Then I will.” She walked away, around the pool’s edge to avoid a puddle from the morning’s rain.

  He called after her. “I want to make you happy—make us happy.”

  She said casually, over her shoulder. “And you’ll accomplish that how?”

  “We should stay married. Really married.”

  That jolted her back. But of course that scenario would be part of his what we have is too good to throw away plan. What did “real” marriage mean to a man like Gage? Commitment or, more likely, convenience? Besides, staying married wouldn’t fix things. She was a mother now, with a mother’s concerns.

  When she turned to face him, the pool’s blue width stretched between them. “You said it at the start…marriage isn’t the issue. I have a child to consider. I won’t put my passions before Meg’s well-being. If she comes to look upon you as a father—a father who is constantly saying goodbye—that will leave scars. If I let that happen, I’m no less selfish than Leeann.”

  Girls needed to depend on their fathers. She knew that better than anyone.

  “Jenna, I need to tell you…I’ve done things in my past I’m not proud of.”

  Her heart tugged at the open expression on his face, of whatever secrets he seemed willing to reveal. But there was no need.

  “We’ve all done things we regret.” Like leaving her family in a huff and le
tting pride keep her away far too long. “But there’s no need to feel guilty about what’s happened these past weeks. You did more than you’d set out to do. I’m grateful for everything. But don’t mess it up. It’s time to move on.”

  His voice lowered. “I want us to be a family. A whole family.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. It sounded as if he’d really missed them. Heck, maybe today he truly did want that family. But what about the sense of desolation she’d suffered when he’d walked away from her yesterday? Did he expect her to fall at his feet without considering the real possibility of a third goodbye?

  Her stomach muscles tightened.

  Sorry, she just couldn’t.

  She turned on her heel to leave.

  “Jenna, I love you.”

  Those words stole her breath away. Despite it all, she ached to say them, too. She’d whispered them so often in her mind. But that kind of confession wouldn’t change things, other than to leave her more vulnerable.

  “If you want me to give up my work,” he continued. “I will. I don’t care about Dubai. I don’t care about money.”

  Her heart aching, she turned to face him. “It’s not making money that you’d miss. It’d be the loss of doing it so well. It’s who you are, Gage. If you gave it all up, you’d be itching to find yourself again, by jumping on a jet, making another million, just wanting to escape.”

  If she said yes to him now and he left her a third time…

  Tears blurred her sight.

  Damn it, she’d sworn he’d never hurt her again.

  His voice reached her over the water. “It wouldn’t be like that.”

  Her heart tore down the middle. “You of all people can’t give me that promise.”

  She only wished he could convince her.

  As she started to turn from him, her foot slipped on the wet tiles.

  One second she was falling face-first toward the water, the next she belly flopped hard into the deep end. Jenna opened her mouth to cry out at the same time she landed in the water. Pain radiated through her as she flailed, swallowed water and began to sink.

 

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