Читать книгу Somebody's Baby - Amanda Stevens - Страница 9

“Oh, Mr. Chambers, it’s you. You startled me.” The nanny stopped in the nursery doorway when she saw Grant standing over John David’s bed. She looked flustered by his presence, and not a little guilty.

She entered the room hesitantly, and Grant straightened from the crib, where he had been trying to quiet the baby. “He was crying when I came in, Mrs. Becker. No one was in here with him.”

“Oh, please call me Alice,” she said with a breathless little laugh. “I just stepped out for a minute. Has the party already started downstairs?” Her gaze checked out Grant’s tuxedo, then quickly shifted to the crib, where John David was excitedly waving his arms and legs and blowing spit bubbles at his uncle with gusto.

“Actually I came a little early to see you,” Grant told her.

Her hand flew to the neckline of her dress, where a dull red flush crept upward, giving her a feverish glow. “Oh! What about?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the incident in the park this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Her tone dropped and so did her hand. “That woman, you mean.”

“Yes, exactly.” Grant hadn’t been able to get “that woman” out of his head. Something about her had seemed eerily familiar to him, and yet he was sure she’d been telling the truth when she said they’d never met. And when she’d assured him she meant John David no harm.

So why couldn’t he forget her?

She was hardly the sort of woman who would capture a man’s imagination. Her waiflike appearance was not the studied look of a fashion model, but rather that of a woman who had fallen on hard times. Her face had been too narrow to be striking, her features too nondescript to be memorable, and yet there had been something very unsettling about her, a sadness and desperation in her eyes that haunted Grant much like those of the begging children he’d seen in Third World countries. He wanted to put her out of his mind, and yet he couldn’t. Because like those starving children, the woman in the park had possessed something very rare. A quiet dignity and purity of soul that no amount of money could ever buy.

Grant found himself wondering what had made those eyes seem far too old and experienced for her face.

The nanny shuddered delicately. “I don’t mind telling you, she just about scared me to death. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

Grant shrugged. “I don’t think she meant the baby any harm. At any rate, I doubt we’ll ever see her again, so the whole episode is best forgotten. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Did you mention any of this to my sister?”

The woman hesitated, calculating, Grant suspected, the answer he wanted to hear. There was something about Alice Becker that didn’t elicit his trust. He wondered just how thoroughly Vanessa and Clayton had checked out her references.

“I haven’t mentioned it to Mrs. Baldwin yet,” she finally admitted. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“Good,” Grant said. “Because I don’t want you to tell her at all.”

The woman’s narrow brows rose in surprise. “Why not?”

“You know about my sister’s condition.” It was a statement, not a question. His father had always insisted that anyone who came to work in the Chambers household be informed of Vanessa’s heart problem so that if an emergency ever arose, the staff would know instantly how to handle it. Grant doubted that policy had changed since his sister had moved into her own home. J. D. Chambers wouldn’t allow it. His daughter had to be protected, at all costs.

“There’s no use upsetting my sister needlessly,” he explained.

“But somehow I don’t feel right keeping this from her.” She slanted Grant a look, which wasn’t hard to interpret. If Vanessa were to ever find out about the woman in the park, Alice Becker didn’t want to be held accountable.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take full responsibility.” Bending over the crib once more, Grant let his nephew capture one finger in his tiny fist for a long moment, then straightened. “Good night, Mrs. Becker.”

The woman started to say something, perhaps to ask him again to call her Alice, but then she seemed to change her mind. She nodded and murmured, “Good night, Mr. Chambers,” as her gaze took his measure one last time before he turned and strode from the room.

* * *

Nina sat in the back of the taxi and stared out the window, but the passing scenery was nothing more than a blur. How could she focus on her surroundings when her thoughts were so chaotic?

Was she doing the right thing?

What if she got caught?

Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window, she marveled at the changes in her appearance. She’d spent hours that afternoon at an exclusive uptown salon, being made over for tonight. The bill, along with the price of a new gown, had been staggering, but Nina knew the extravagance had been worthwhile.

Gone was the long, mousy blond hair, the pale complexion, the dull, pain-filled eyes. Her hair, cut short in a chic new style, shimmered with golden highlights, her complexion glowed with soft color and her green eyes sparkled with excitement. Nina hardly even recognized herself, and she told herself no one else would, either.

Resting her head against the back of the seat, she let her mind drift over the rest of the afternoon’s events, searching—she suspected—for affirmation that she was doing the right thing. That she had covered all her bases.

After speaking with Sergeant Farrell for the second time, she’d fished the morning newspaper out of the trash and turned to the society section. Vanessa Baldwin’s likeness had smiled up at her, and Nina’s heart had plunged in disappointment. Either the picture was deceptive or she’d been mistaken in the park. Vanessa Baldwin looked nothing like Karen Smith.

Could Sergeant Farrell be right? Had Nina glimpsed something in Vanessa Baldwin’s eyes only because she so desperately wanted to?

The accompanying article reported that Vanessa Baldwin was hosting a formal reception that night in her River Oaks home in honor of her brother, Grant Chambers, who had just returned from Venezuela. After reading the article, Nina had come up with a dangerous plan. For her own peace of mind, she had to get a closer look at Vanessa Baldwin. She had to be sure.

And if she was honest with herself, she had to admit she wanted to see the baby again, too, although she knew that would be the riskiest part of her plan.

Oh, but to hold that child in her arms again…to savor his sweetness…

Nina drew a long, shaky breath. Above all else, she had to remain rational. If Vanessa Baldwin wasn’t Karen Smith, then her baby wasn’t Dustin, and Nina would have no right to see him, let alone to hold him. She could not afford to lose sight of that fact.

The taxi pulled through the gates of the Baldwin estate and slowly wound its way around the semicircular driveway to stop in front of the Mediterranean-style mansion, blazing with lights. Nina glanced at the stucco facade and the wrought-iron balconies as she stepped out into the cool October air.

Another car had pulled up behind hers, and two couples got out. Nina fell into step behind them, forcing herself to strike up a casual conversation with one of the women as they mounted the stairs and walked through massive oak doors into the grand foyer.

* * *

Grant saw her immediately. He’d been talking with his father and several business associates about the Venezuelan project, but the moment she walked into the room, everyone else faded into the background.

She wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense of the word, but there was something about her, an elegance and quiet sophistication that made him think she would be an interesting woman to know.

The simple black gown she wore left her arms and shoulders bare, and revealed a body beneath the silky fabric that was more slender than Grant would ordinarily have found attractive. But rather than making her seem frail, her petite stature was surprisingly sensual. Womanly.

Drifting away from the people she’d come in with, she accepted a glass of champagne from one of the hovering waiters, then slipped unobtrusively into a corner, her gaze raking the crowded room. Grant watched her over the rim of his own glass. Had they met before? He didn’t think so, and yet there was something intriguingly familiar about her. He excused himself and crossed the room toward her.

As he approached, Grant saw something flit across her features. Recognition? If he didn’t know better, he would have almost sworn it was fear.

“I know this is going to sound like the worst kind of come-on,” he said, “but have we met before?”

Her gaze flitted upward to his. She licked her lips nervously. “No. I’m sure we haven’t.”

“You look…not exactly familiar, but—” He paused, studying her features. “There’s something about you.”

“I…guess I just have one of those faces.”

That wasn’t it, but Grant didn’t think it wise to pursue the topic any further. She looked a little skittish, as if she might turn and bolt at any moment. And he sure as hell didn’t want that.

“I’m Grant Chambers.” He extended his hand, and she accepted it only briefly before pulling her fingers from his grasp. When she made no move to introduce herself, he said, “And you are…?”

A look of panic flashed across her features. He couldn’t imagine why she seemed so nervous in his presence. Was he that intimidating? He’d never thought so before.

“I’m—” She broke off, her gaze darting from his. He saw her take a deep breath, and then she said softly, “Actually I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You mean you crashed my sister’s party?” When she nodded, he laughed. That explained her nervousness. She probably thought he’d have her tossed out, but that was the furthest thing from Grant’s mind.

He stared down at her, his interest piqued. A pulse beat in her throat, and he thought impulsively how exciting it would be to press his lips against the spot, to feel her soft, warm skin throbbing beneath his mouth.

Leaning toward her, he said, “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Then…you don’t mind my being here?”

“Hardly.” Their gazes met once again before she quickly glanced away. Grant used the moment to study her as she turned to watch the crowd. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so intrigued by a woman. “So, tell me. Any reason for crashing this particular party?”

She lifted her shoulders, a slight movement that brought Grant’s gaze downward, to the creamy skin of her throat and the alluring shadow of cleavage at her neckline. He felt something tighten inside him.

“I came with my cousin.” She nodded vaguely toward the center of the room.

Grant followed her gaze and said, “You mean Cynthia? I didn’t know she had a cousin.”

The woman bit her lip. “We’re not that close. I don’t see her very often.”

“You don’t live in Houston then?”

“I’m from…San Antonio.”

“Really? I’m pretty familiar with the city. Where do you live?”

She hesitated again, as if debating whether she wanted him to know that much about her. Then she shrugged and named a neighborhood Grant knew very well. He lifted his brows in surprise. “Small world. I have a good friend who lives in Alamo Heights. We were roommates at UT. His name is Trent Fairchild. You don’t, by chance, know him, do you?”

Something flashed across her features, setting off a warning inside Grant. Too late, he saw the champagne glass slip from her fingers and shatter against the marble floor at their feet.

Clasping a hand to her heart, she stared at the broken flute in horror. “Oh, my God.”

Her face had grown so pale, Grant took her arm to steady her. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

“No. No, it wasn’t that. I-it just…slipped from my fingers. I’m sorry,” she stammered, as if she couldn’t quite believe what had happened. “I’m usually not that clumsy.”

“No problem. It’s just a broken glass. Happens all the time.” He motioned to one of the waiters, who hurried over to clean up the mess. Grant used the opportunity to pull her even farther away from the crowd.

She still looked shaken, and he wondered why such a trivial accident had caused her such concern. “Believe me, that glass will never be missed.”

Her gaze swept the elegant room, and a brief shadow crossed over her features. “I’m sure it won’t. But I am sorry.”

“Accidents happen. So long as it wasn’t the company that made you so nervous.”

“Wh-what?”

Her green gaze seemed so guileless, Grant wondered if she could really be so innocent not to recognize his own clumsy attempts at flirtation. Was he that out of practice?

Or maybe she just wasn’t interested. Maybe it was time to move on. There were a lot of important people at the gathering, and Grant knew he should be working the crowd—as his brother-in-law was undoubtedly doing. As his father would expect both of them to do. But try as he might, Grant couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm for it at the moment.

He didn’t mind talking about the Venezuelan project, which had turned out to be a very profitable venture, but a conversation about his return to the States always led to the inevitable speculation about his exile. And Grant didn’t like thinking about the past. He didn’t like remembering how closely he’d come to losing everything, and all because of a woman.

So why wasn’t he being more cautious now? Why was he hell-bent on pursuing this woman when she so obviously didn’t want to be pursued?

“Perhaps I should leave,” she said, as if reading his mind.

Grant frowned. “Because of a broken glass?” When she shrugged helplessly, he said, “Look, if you feel that badly about it, there’s only one thing you can do.”

Her glance turned wary. “What?”

“Dance with me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, I mean, I’m really not much of a dancer,” she said in a rush.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He took her hand and felt it tremble in his. For some reason, it made her seem vulnerable and sweet. Qualities he’d always vastly underrated, he decided.

“But—”

“No ‘but’s,” he insisted. “I have a feeling that at midnight you’re going to disappear, and I’ll never see you again. At least let me have one dance to remember you by.”

IN HER WILDEST DREAMS, Nina could not have imagined such a strange scenario. When she’d seen Grant Chambers walking across the room toward her, she’d been sure he’d recognized her from the park and was coming to throw her out. Or maybe even have her arrested.

But then she’d seen the admiration in his gray eyes, and realized in a rush of relief that he had no idea who she was. Her makeover had worked, and she’d tried her best not to say or do anything to give herself away. But then he mentioned Trent Fairchild, and her reaction was instinctive. She thought for a moment she might actually pass out.

How ironic that she had come here searching for the truth about her baby only to end up in the arms of a man who was a friend of her worst enemy. Trent Fairchild had sworn he would find a way to make Nina pay for Garrett’s death, and she couldn’t help wondering again if he was somehow connected to Dustin’s disappearance. Sergeant Farrell had cleared him months ago, but Nina had never been quite as certain.

“You’re trembling.” Grant’s deep voice vibrated against her ear. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” She tried to hold herself away from his body, but Grant Chambers would have none of that. He was a man used to getting his own way, and when he pulled her more tightly into his arms, there was little she could do to resist.

“Better?”

No! she wanted to scream, but all she could do was nod and let herself be drawn against him. He was very tall, towering over her in a way that made her feel a little too vulnerable, and he was darkly handsome in a way that would make most women’s knees go weak. But Nina was immune to rich and powerful men. She didn’t trust them. It had been her experience they almost always had a hidden agenda.

The only male she had any interest in at the moment was her son, and she would do whatever she had to in order to find him, even if it meant dancing with Grant Chambers. Even if it meant pretending an interest she didn’t feel. For all Nina knew, her baby could be upstairs at this very moment, and Grant just might be the one person who could lead her to him.

“You lied to me, didn’t you?”

His deep voice was like a caress against her ear. Nina felt her mouth go dry. “What do you mean?”

“You said you weren’t much of a dancer. I knew that couldn’t be true.”

She laughed softly, a breathless release of nerves. “Just because I haven’t stepped on your toes yet doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“I’m not worried.” He smiled down at her again, and Nina felt her breath catch in her throat. He really was a very attractive man. His gray eyes, hooded and sensual, were fringed with thick lashes and shadowed with just enough mystery to make a woman wonder where he’d been and what he’d seen. What he’d done and whom he had done it with.

He didn’t look anything like his sister. Vanessa was blond and fair, and catching a glimpse of her in the crowd, Nina couldn’t help wondering again if she’d made a tragic mistake. Could a black wig, glasses and the right makeup change a person’s appearance so dramatically?

Just look at me, Nina thought. Grant Chambers had stared accusingly into her eyes only a few hours ago, and now here they were dancing.

“What are you so deep in thought about?” he asked her.

“I…was just thinking about your sister.”

“Vanessa? What about her?”

“I heard she’d recently had a baby, but she looks so thin. I was wondering how she got her figure back so quickly.”

“I wasn’t around when she had the baby, but I imagine Vanessa did whatever was necessary. She’s very much a perfectionist.”

Something in his tone made Nina glance up at him. Did he suspect a dark side to his sister, as well? “She’s very beautiful,” Nina murmured. “Does the baby look like her?”

Grant considered the question for a moment. “I’ve never really given it much thought. Vanessa and Clayton are both fair, and what little hair John David has is dark. Come to think of it, I guess he looks a little more like me than he does either one of them.” The notion seemed to please him.

“You surprise me,” Nina tried to say lightly. “You don’t strike me as the baby type.”

He laughed. “I guess I surprise myself. I’ve never been around babies much. But there’s something special about John David. It’s hard to explain. He’s just so—I don’t know—innocent, I guess. He makes you want to protect him.” His smile seemed self-deprecating. “Not exactly a manly thing to say, is it?”

On the contrary. Nina had a sudden vision of the way Grant had looked that afternoon when he’d taken the baby from her arms. His menacing presence had terrified her, and she’d had no doubt that he would do whatever necessary to protect the child. There’d been no question of his masculinity then or now. He was not only a man used to getting what he wanted, but was also a man who would fiercely guard what he thought was his.

Nina shivered again, and Grant’s arms tightened around her. “You’re freezing,” he said. “Let me go get your coat. What does it look like?”

Her mind raced. If she remained in Grant Chambers’s presence for much longer, she’d surely give herself away. She had to get away from him. She had to find a way to get upstairs and locate the nursery.

“It’s a very common style,” she said. “You’d better let me go get it.”

She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held her for an instant longer. His gaze deepened, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he found her attractive. And that he had every intention of acting on that attraction. Nerves fluttered along Nina’s backbone.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” he demanded softly.

She hesitated, striving for poise. Then she nodded and walked away.

* * *

Slowly Nina climbed the curving staircase, her heart pounding against her chest. This is it, a little voice whispered inside her. The moment of truth.

Soon she would find the baby they called John David and stare down into his little face. Soon she would know whether or not he was hers, because surely her instincts would tell her.

Pausing on the wide balcony, she glanced down at the throng below her, her gaze finding and resting on Vanessa Baldwin. The woman hadn’t given her a second glance all evening. She obviously had no idea who Nina really was or why she was there. Vanessa had no idea of the possible threat that lurked in her midst.

How easy would it be, Nina wondered daringly, to grab the baby and run? To simply disappear with him rather than letting the law take its course?

She had a little money put away. Though she’d received nothing from Garrett’s massive trust fund, she’d been the beneficiary of a life-insurance policy he’d left behind. She could use that money now to go somewhere far away and make a new life for herself and her son. Far away from the Fairchilds and the Baldwins and the Chamberses.

But seeing Vanessa Baldwin tonight had only confused Nina more. Vanessa was so beautiful and elegant, so sure of herself. Karen Smith had been the total opposite, demure and shy and so painfully insecure. Had it all been an act, an elaborate charade to win Nina’s confidence and then steal her baby?

Had Trent Fairchild played a part in the tragedy?

Had Grant?

Almost inadvertently, her gaze came to rest on Grant Chambers. He was talking to a woman in a red-beaded dress, and as Nina stood watching, she saw the woman place her hand on his arm, as if staking her claim. Uneasiness stirred inside Nina. A memory of something she’d read in the paper that afternoon came back to her. There’d been a vague reference to a scandal involving Grant four years ago before he’d moved to Venezuela. Though Nina hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, she wondered now what had happened to him. Why he’d felt compelled to leave the country back then.

If he’d been in Venezuela for the past four years as he’d told her when they were dancing—then he hadn’t been here when Nina’s baby had been born. He hadn’t been anywhere near Galveston when Dustin had been stolen.

Why, all of a sudden, did she so desperately want to believe that? Nina wondered. Why did it matter if Grant was guilty or innocent so long as she found her baby?

As if sensing her scrutiny, he lifted his head suddenly and found her on the landing. Even from a distance, Nina could feel the intensity of his gaze, the power of his presence, and she shivered.

When he found out who she was, why she had come here, Grant Chambers would become her enemy. The notion left Nina oddly shaken, and only by sheer force of will was she able to tear her gaze from his and turn away.

* * *

There were several doors that opened from the upstairs hallway, and Nina had no idea which one was the nursery or if the baby’s room was even on this floor. She started checking the rooms one by one, knowing she had only a few moments before Grant would start to wonder what was taking her so long to find her coat and come looking for her.

Most of the rooms on the second floor were bedrooms, the largest of which was obviously the master suite. Nina paused in the hallway for a moment, glancing over her shoulder toward the stairway and the balcony that overlooked the large area below. Satisfied that no one was about, she let herself into Vanessa Baldwin’s sitting room.

And just what do you expect to find? Nina asked herself as she stood leaning against the door, her gaze scanning the room. A dark wig? Black-rimmed glasses?

If Vanessa Baldwin really was Karen Smith, she would have destroyed her disguise a long time ago. Searching her suite would be an exercise in futility, but Nina couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not yet.

The sitting room was elegantly decorated in shades of cream, gold and dark green. Though it had been beautifully done, Nina found the room totally lacking in personality. There was nothing out of place, nothing that didn’t match, nothing whatsoever that gave away anything of the personality of the woman who occupied these quarters.

As Nina turned to leave, a photograph on an antique cherry wood table caught her eye. She crossed the room and picked up the gold frame, her heart hammering inside her as she stared down at the image.

Here’s your proof, a little voice taunted her. This is what you came for.

The woman in the picture was Vanessa Baldwin. A very beautiful and very pregnant Vanessa Baldwin. Standing in front of a building with white columns, she looked to be about seven or eight months along.

Nina’s hands trembled as she stared down at the photograph. Did this confirm her doubts then? Did this prove Vanessa Baldwin wasn’t Karen Smith?

Could Nina have wanted to find Karen so badly that she’d conjured her up in the park that afternoon? Had she so desperately wanted to believe the baby she’d held in her arms was Dustin that she’d managed to convince herself he was?

Sergeant Farrell had warned her. The odds were against her, the coincidences too great. But she’d refused to believe him.

Nina had never felt so near an emotional edge as she did at that moment. Not when Garrett had died and not even when Dustin had disappeared. She’d somehow managed to hold herself together in the face of those tragedies because she’d always been a survivor. She’d had to be.

But now.

Now Nina had to question her own sanity. She could no longer trust her own judgment.

Dear God, what if she had taken that baby? What if she had put someone else through the same hell she’d gone through when Dustin disappeared?

Nina closed her eyes as the strange room swayed around her. She had to get out of there before she said or did something that would get her carted off to jail or to an insane asylum or…worse.

Taking a steadying breath, she hurried across the room and opened the door, but just as she started to step into the hallway, she heard another door open. Stepping back into the room, Nina left the door slightly ajar so that she could see down the hallway. What if it was Vanessa? she thought, frantically casting about for a hiding place.

But then she saw someone come out of a room three or four doors down, and Nina smothered a gasp. She recognized the woman from the park, John David’s nanny.

As Nina watched her, the woman took a flask from the pocket of her uniform and stared down at it for a moment. Then, lifting it to her lips, she took a long swallow and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Slipping the flask back into her pocket, she turned and headed down the hallway, away from what Nina thought might be the nursery.

Once the woman was out of sight, Nina left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Hurrying down the hallway, she was almost past the nursery door when she heard sounds of distress coming from within.