Читать книгу Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby - BEVERLY BARTON, Beverly Barton - Страница 9

Frank had left Leenie in her bedroom and gone through the house, out the back door and onto the porch. For late November, it was unseasonably warm. Probably somewhere in the high sixties and not a rain cloud in the sky. He’d gotten away from Leenie as fast as he could because he’d sensed that she had wanted him to put his arms around her and hold her. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. And not just because he was angry with her, that a part of him wanted to wring that long, smooth neck of hers for keeping his son a secret from him. He knew that if he touched her, she’d work that crazy magic spell on him and make him want to stay with her, hold on to her, make love to her and never let her go. When he’d left Maysville eleven months ago after his assignment ended, he’d sworn he’d never look back. The way Leenie turned him inside out had scared the hell out of him. He’d decided a long time ago that no woman was ever again going to do a number on him. No way was he going to let Leenie twist him around her little finger.

Yeah, well, Frank old buddy, maybe Leenie knew exactly how you felt. It wasn’t as if he’d made a big secret of not wanting anything beyond a brief affair. He had told her he was not the type of guy for a committed relationship. Is it any wonder that when she found out she was pregnant, she didn’t pick up the phone and call him? She probably had serious doubts he’d be thrilled to hear he was a father-to-be.

Okay, so maybe he had to accept part of the blame. Maybe he shouldn’t take all his anger out on her.

The last time Frank had allowed anything to tear him apart inside had been twelve years ago when he’d walked in on his wife in bed with another man. They’d been married for two years and he’d been fool enough to think they were happy. He had been happy. Apparently Rita hadn’t been. She’d decided she wanted more than Frank could give her and zeroed in on her married boss, a guy twice her age. Even now, after all these years, Frank could still remember how it felt seeing their naked bodies writhing on the bed. His bed, the one he’d slept in every night with Rita. And he could almost feel the power in the repeated punches he’d inflicted on Rodney Klyce. He’d beaten the hell out of the guy, but Klyce hadn’t pressed charges. He’d wanted the whole thing kept quite because of his wife. But before Frank had packed his bags and left town, he’d called Mrs. Klyce. A bitter, vengeful thing to have done, but he’d never regretted it. He’d later heard she’d divorced Klyce and taken him for half his net worth. He’d also heard that Rita married Klyce, then divorced him a few years later and moved on to greener pastures. By now she’d probably gone through half a dozen husbands, and he could truthfully say he didn’t give a damn.

He’d been a fool about Rita, a brown-eyed beauty with flaming red hair. She’d made him forget all about his solemn vow to never marry, to never repeat his parents’ mistake. Their battle royale divorce when he was twelve should have proven to him how easily love can turn to hate and that eventually hate evolved into apathy. But learning that lesson a second time—firsthand—had seared it into both his conscious and subconscious. Love affairs were okay. Love was not. After Rita, he’d shut himself off from anything other than lust and sex. He’d thought that was all it had been with Leenie. Even when he’d realized he couldn’t get her out of his mind, couldn’t forget her, he’d halfway convinced himself that what he really couldn’t forget was the fantastic sex.

You don’t love her, he told himself. You aren’t capable of love.

But the fact that he’d gotten her pregnant and she’d given birth to his child bonded them forever, marriage or no marriage. He had a son. A two-month-old son.

Frank cursed under his breath, then pounded his fist against the doorframe. He’d never given fatherhood a thought. When he’d sworn off love and marriage, naturally he’d assumed there wouldn’t be any kids in his future and that had been fine with him. He was forty damn years old. Too old to become a first-time father.

The more he thought about the situation, the more he came to realize why Leenie hadn’t told him about Andrew. If he’d been Leenie, he wouldn’t have called him with the news. He was lousy father material. He needed to talk to her, apologize for acting like a jerk. The woman had been traumatized enough by her baby’s kidnapping and all he’d done was add to that trauma.

Just as he reached out to open the back door, Kate and Moran came outside onto the porch. He could tell by their expressions that the news wasn’t good.

“What’s happened?” Frank asked.

“Nothing new,” Kate said. “But Dante has some information he’s willing to share with you, not as Andrew’s father, but as a Dundee agent who has certain government clearances and is deemed totally trustworthy.”

“Cut the crap and lay it on the line,” Frank told her.

“It’s good news and bad news,” she said.

“We’re fairly certain we know who kidnapped your son,” Special Agent Moran said.

“What?” Frank glared at Moran.

“Not the name of a person, but an organization,” Kate said. “The good news is that the FBI is reasonably certain the woman who stole Andrew isn’t some nutcase who’ll kill him or keep him for herself.”

“And just what makes the Feds so certain?” He looked to Moran for the answer.

“We unearthed information about an infant abduction ring several years ago,” Moran said. “We’re not sure how long it’s been in operation, but we suspect at least ten years. We’re on the verge of setting up a sting operation that will lead us right to the top, to the people making big money by stealing Caucasian babies and selling them to unsuspecting couples who’ll gladly pay a hundred thousand or more for a cuddly blue-eyed, blond-haired baby.”

“Hell. Are you telling me that you think Andrew was stolen by this baby abduction ring?”

“The odds are pretty high that he’ll soon be sold to the highest bidder.”

“Son of a bitch.” Frank glowered at Kate. “And this is the good news?”

“At least there’s a good chance they’ll take care of him because he’s worth a great deal of money to them.”

In desperation Frank said, “What if we run an ad in the paper offering more than a hundred grand for Andrew’s safe return?”

“These people aren’t going to take any chances on getting caught,” Moran said. “Selling these kids to adoptive parents is easy money because it’s safe. The people who adopt these babies aren’t going to ask too many questions about where their baby came from, now are they?”

“How close are you guys to nabbing them?”

“You know I can’t tell you the details.” Moran felt in his coat pocket, then patted his shirt pocket before letting his hand fall to his side. “I quit smoking nearly a year ago, but I can’t kick the habit of reaching for one now and again.”

“How close?” Frank repeated.

“Close.”

“I want in on the sting.”

“You know that’s not possible.”

“Who are these people and where do we find them?” Frank caught the sidelong glances Kate and Moran exchanged. “There’s a good chance Andrew will be the next baby up on the auction block, so why not send me and Kate in as prospective parents?”

“We’ve got federal agents who can do that. Besides, you’re the kidnapped boy’s father. You’re too close to this to—”

Frank grabbed Moran by his lapels and hauled him close so that they were eye-to-eye.

“If it were your kid, what would you do?”

Moran, cool as a cucumber, looked directly at Frank and said, “I’d want to go in myself and get my child and then I’d want to kill every bastard involved in the abduction ring…kill them with my bare hands.”

Frank loosened his hold on Moran’s suit, then released the lapels and took a deep breath. “And some stupid federal agent would stop you.”

Moran’s lips twitched with a hint of a smile. “You know it.”

“How much can I tell Leenie?” Frank asked.

“Tell her about the abduction ring and our suspicions that Andrew was stolen by these slimeballs, but that’s it. If and when we make a move, you can tell her afterward, hopefully when we bring her son home to her.”

“She’ll be mad as hell at all of us,” Frank said.

“After the way you treated her in there, I’d say she’s already mad as hell at you,” Kate told him. “Maybe you should go back inside and talk to her, even apologize.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Kate smiled. “Could be there’s hope for you yet, Latimer.”

Leenie ran a comb through her hair, then opened her jewelry case and removed a pair of gold and diamond earrings. She’d been wearing these the first time she’d seen Frank. He’d come into WJMM as part of the Dundee team sent to Maysville to protect Elsa Leone against death threats nearly a year ago. He and Kate had been the investigative team and they’d set up shop in Elsa’s office in the WJMM studio complex. The minute she’d met Frank, she’d wanted him. And she’d had him in record time. She had thought he’d be her first one-night stand; instead their encounter had turned out to be the first time she’d ever had sex with someone she’d just met, someone little more than a stranger. But with Frank it had seemed right not to wait. The sex had been incredible. They’d set the sheets on fire and sent off skyrockets. And the more they had sex, the more they’d wanted it. They couldn’t get enough of each other.

Leenie slipped the earrings on, then slid her fingers down the side of her neck, remembering the feel of Frank’s big, rough fingers caressing her.

While she stood staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes glazed over with memories, Haley came in and walked up behind her. “You haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive. Why don’t you let me make you a sandwich.”

“Food won’t help,” Leenie said. “I feel as if I eat a bite, I’ll throw it up.”

“How did things go with Frank?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“What did he do?”

“He hates me.” Leenie sighed. “And I can’t blame him. He had every right to know about his son. He doesn’t understand why I didn’t tell him I was pregnant.”

A deep male voice said, “Yes, he does understand.”

Leenie gasped when she saw Frank’s reflection in the mirror. Haley turned around and gave him a withering glare as she moved past him toward the door.

Haley paused, glanced over her shoulder and said, “See if you can get her to eat something. And if you say or do anything to upset her, you’ll answer to me.”

The minute Haley closed the door, Frank came up behind Leenie. Her breath caught in her throat. A part of her still wanted his arms around her; another part of her wanted to tell him to go away and leave her alone. She simply stood there, those stupid diamond earrings glimmering in the fading late afternoon sunlight coming through the sheer window curtains. Why had she put on these earrings? Had she thought he’d actually remember her wearing them?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She looked at his reflection in the mirror and plainly saw the sincerity of his words in the expression on his face. And in his eyes. Those stormy-sea gray eyes that spoke volumes.

Emotion tightened her throat. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded.

He touched her then. Those big, hard hands tenderly clutched her shoulders. Don’t fall apart, she told herself. Don’t crumble and fall into his arms. He’s not here for you. He came because of Andrew.

“I know you had your reasons for not telling me you were pregnant,” he said. “You probably figured I wouldn’t relish the news of impending fatherhood.”

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

His hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders. “After the way we ended things, you had no reason to think I’d want to be a part of Andrew’s life.”

“I should have told you,” she finally managed to say.

“It doesn’t matter now. Finding Andrew and bringing him home is what matters. And I swear to you, Leenie, I’ll move heaven and earth to do that.”

She swallowed the tears choking her. Of its own accord her body swayed backward toward his and the minute it did, he slid his hands downward from her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her. Her back pressed against his chest and for the first time since Andrew had been kidnapped, she felt a sense of hope. Crazy as the notion was, her heart believed that Frank could keep his promise to bring their baby home to her.

“I love him so,” she said. “He’s everything…to…me.” Her shaky voice grew softer with each word as she tried in vain to keep from crying. “At first I couldn’t…cry. Now I—I can’t…seem…to stop…crying.”

Hugging her comfortingly, he lowered his head and pressed his cheek against her temple. “I wish I could cry. God knows I feel like it.”

Startled by his comment, she stiffened in his arms. Frank Latimer crying? She couldn’t imagine it. Was he saying that he cared about Andrew, even loved him? Was it possible that he was actually pleased about having a son? Or was his reaction strictly impersonal, the kind any normal person would have after learning a two-month-old baby had been kidnapped?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You’re wondering what kind of man I am, if I’m pleased to be a father or horrified. You’re thinking how dare he care now, after the fact. Why didn’t he call me after he left Maysville nearly a year ago? He’s a day late and a dollar short.”

As the tension drained from her body, she allowed his strength to support her. Instinct told her that despite their past history, Frank was a man she could lean on, a man she could count on when the chips were down. And God knew she needed somebody strong right now, someone who felt what she felt—the panic and terror, the excruciating pain. Only Andrew’s father could even begin to understand the depth of her feelings.

“How do you feel about having a child?” She avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror. She knew that no matter what he said, his true reaction would show on his face. She’d learned that much about him during their brief interlude. Frank Latimer did not have a poker face.

He turned her in his arms. “Look at me, Leenie.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his and saw confusion in his eyes, as well as concern.

“I’m not sure how I feel,” he admitted. “I never thought about being a father. I knew, after my divorce, that I’d never get married again. And I’m just old-fashioned enough to think a guy should get married before he fathers a child. I don’t have unsafe sex. You know that.”

“Condoms aren’t foolproof,” she told him. “And I wasn’t on the pill. Most doctors recommend another form of birth control for women after they turn thirty-five.”

“You don’t have to explain. We thought we were being careful. Responsible. Accident’s happen.”

“Is that how you think of Andrew, as an accident?” Heat suffused her face as her temper rose.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. All I’m saying is that Andrew’s conception was an accident. I just found out today that I’m a father. Give me some time to figure out what I think about having a child. You had nine months of pregnancy and two months with Andrew to figure out how you feel. Did you know immediately when you found out you were pregnant that you wanted the child, that you loved him?”

Well, he had her there. No, of course she hadn’t known immediately that she loved and wanted her baby. When she’d read the home pregnancy test, she’d panicked. And when the doctor had confirmed her condition, she’d stayed in a state of shock for days. She had even considered an abortion. But only for about two minutes.

“You’re right. I was being unfair putting you on the spot that way.”

He cupped her face with his hands. “I do know this—I care about Andrew. And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring our son home to you. Once he’s back in your arms, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

“Fair enough.” She swallowed fresh tears.

“I realize we’re little more than strangers to each other. We had a whirlwind love affair and we spent most of our time making love, not getting acquainted.”

She nodded.

“I’d like to learn more about Andrew, if you’re willing to talk to me about him. It might help you. Hell, it might help both of us. But if you’d rather not, it’s okay.”

She pulled away from Frank, walked across the room and picked up the most recent photograph of her baby. “This was taken a few weeks ago. It’s a picture of him I took with my digital camera. I enlarged it and framed it.” She held it out to Frank.

He didn’t move for a couple of minutes, as if he were afraid of the picture. Was he wondering how his first glimpse of his son would affect him?

“He’s asleep in this picture, so you can’t see his eyes.” She moved toward Frank, the framed photograph in her hand. “He has blue eyes, like mine. And blond hair. Not much hair, mostly just baby-fine fluff.” He has your mouth, your chin and your hands and feet, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “He’s big for his age. He weighed nine pounds, five ounces, when he was born.”

Frank glanced down at the picture, then reached out and took it. He stared at the photo for what seemed like forever, then smiled and said, “He looks like you. Lucky kid.”

Leenie clenched her teeth to keep from crying.

“I guess he’ll grow up to be tall, huh, since I’m six-three and you’re—what?—five-nine or ten.” Frank looked at her.

She nodded. “He has big hands and big feet. Long toes and long fingers.” She cast her gaze on Frank’s hand holding the frame.

“Like me.” He looked at Andrew’s picture again, then handed it back to Leenie.

She placed the frame on the bedside table and slumped down on the edge of the bed. When she turned back to Frank, she noticed he was headed toward the door. Don’t leave me, she wanted to cry, please don’t leave me.

He glanced back at her. “I need to get my bag out of the rental car. I’m going to stay here with you until we find Andrew, if that’s all right.”

Her heart soared. “Yes. Yes, it’s all right with me.”

He offered her a forced smile, then opened the door.

“Thank you,” she called.

He paused momentarily, but didn’t turn or speak; then he left.

When Frank brought his bag in, Haley Wilson stopped him in the foyer. “Are you planning on staying?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Look, Ms. Wilson, if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

“All right. Leenie is one of the strongest, most independent women I know. But she’s vulnerable right now. Her whole life is hanging in the balance because Andrew is her life. I don’t know if you can understand that, but as a mother myself, I do. So, no matter what your own feelings are or how you plan to deal with things when y’all get Andrew back, right now, Leenie needs you. She needs your support and your comfort.”

“I agree.”

Haley stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “She hasn’t slept since the night before last and she hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I’ve gotten her to drink a little tea, but that’s all. Do you think you could get her to eat?”

“Is there any cheesecake in the house?” Frank asked, remembering how they had devoured cheesecake at dawn, after a marathon lovemaking session.

Haley cocked her head sideways and smiled. “You do know a little something about her, don’t you? As for the cheesecake—I had my husband stop by the bakery and drop one by here a little while ago.”

Frank dumped his bag in the corner of the foyer. “I’ll take her a piece and make sure she eats it.” He looked directly at Leenie’s friend. “I’m going to take care of her. I promise.”

This woman had no way of knowing that Frank Latimer didn’t make promises easily, that when he made one, he kept it.

Five minutes later, Frank entered Leenie’s bedroom. He carried two slices of cheesecake and two cups of hot tea on a tray. Leenie glanced up at him from where she still sat on the edge of the bed. She clutched a damp, wrinkled handkerchief in her hand.

“Snack time.” He walked over, placed the tray on the bed and sat beside her. “Cheesecake and hot tea. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember, but I’m surprised that you do.”

He lifted one plate and fork and handed them to her. “Eat up.”

“Frank, I’m not—”

“Eat.” He picked up the other plate, sliced off a large chunk of cheesecake and slid it into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he sighed dramatically. “Nothing better than cheesecake, except—”

“Sex,” she finished his sentence.

Grinning, he took a second bite before placing his plate back on the tray. He eased his hand under her hand to support her plate, then lifted her fork and cut off a piece of the cheesecake and lifted it to her mouth. She parted her lips; he slid the cheesecake into her mouth. As soon as she finished one bite, he gave her another, and then another—slowly, patiently—until three-fourths of her slice was gone.

“I can’t eat anymore,” she told him.

He set her plate on the tray, then handed her the tea. While she sipped the tea, he drank his, watching her all the while. After she drained her cup, he removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the floor.

Leenie was dead on her feet, worn out from lack of sleep and the stress of not knowing where Andrew was or if he was all right. Frank realized she needed more than cheesecake and tea. She needed to rest. He scooted up in her bed until his back hit the headboard, then he reached out, grasped Leenie’s hand and tugged on it urging her to join him. They sat side-byside in her bed, their backs resting against the headboard. Frank put his arm around her shoulders and cuddled her against him.

“Would you believe I had blond hair and blue eyes when I was a baby?” he said.

“What?” Turning her head sideways, she glanced over at him.

“I had blond hair and blue eyes like Andrew. So his eyes could turn gray later on and his hair might not stay blond like yours.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “I was bald when I was born. Well, actually, I think I had some white fuzz, but it wasn’t much. I have a couple of baby pictures that a distant relative sent me when I contacted her after I grew up and started searching for any family I might have.”

“That’s right. You grew up in foster homes, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh. After my parents died, I got shuffled from one foster home to another, until I was fifteen and wound up with Debra and Jerry Schmale.”

“Debra? The same Debra who’s Andrew’s nanny?”

“That’s right.” Leenie yawned.

“How’s she doing after her surgery?”

“I spoke to her doctor earlier today and he said she should be able to go into a private room tomorrow. Debra’s a wonderful person, the only real mother-figure I ever had that I can remember. My own mother died when I was four and I can barely remember her.”

“I grew up in a fairly conventional family. Mom, dad and an older sister. Then when I was twelve my parents divorced. Ripped us to shreds. My sister went with Mom and I lived with Dad.”

“It must have been difficult for you.”

“Pure hell. You see, my mother had taken a lover and my father wanted to make her pay for her sins.” Frank glanced at Leenie, her eyes shut, her lips slightly parted, her breathing soft and even.

“Did you hate your mother after that?” Leenie asked, her voice hushed.

“Yeah, I hated her for a long, long time, but that’s all in the past now,” Frank said, looking at the way Leenie’s eyelids closed and realizing what she needed was sleep. He moved on to more mundane topics and Leenie melted against him as she began drifting off to sleep. He kept talking quietly until he knew she was fast asleep, then he eased her down into the bed so that her head rested in his lap. He pulled the folded quilt at the foot of the bed up and over her. While she slept, he watched her. Drank his fill of her.

He admitted to himself that he’d missed Leenie while they’d been apart. He’d missed seeing her, talking to her, having sex with her. She was the first woman since Rita who’d stirred something inside him other than lust.

But you don’t love her, Frank told himself. She’s special. She’s the mother of your child. But you do not love her.

He caressed her hair and the side of her face tenderly. “Get some rest, Slim. I’m here now. You won’t have to go through this alone.”