Читать книгу One Heir...Or Two? - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 10

Three

Kayla righted an armchair and sank into it. She was shattered. If having Zoe return to her apartment, tripping out on the drugs she’d spent all of Kayla’s hard-earned savings on, hadn’t been enough, now she had to deal with Van, as well?

She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and looked at him. While she might not have been able to see the fury that emanated off him in waves, she could certainly feel it.

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow? As you can see, I have a lot on my plate right now.”

Her head ached where one of Zoe’s missiles had caught her on the forehead and Kayla gingerly touched the dressing the paramedic had put over the cut and closed her eyes. She sensed rather than saw Van move to her side.

“Are you okay? Do you need further medical attention?”

She let her hand drop into her lap and opened her eyes again. “No, I’m okay. It was a glancing blow. Nothing major. I’m just really tired right now. I’m not up for a big argument.” She dredged up the last of her courage and fired her next words straight at him. “Perhaps you could call and make an appointment.”

He looked startled for a second and then reluctantly amused. But frustration and fury soon took over again. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You know exactly why I’m here. You owe me answers and I’m not leaving until I get them.”

“They’ll have to wait until I can get this all sorted out,” she said with a weary wave of her hand at the mess that was once her sitting room and kitchen.

“Fine. We do that, then we talk.”

“Van, no. It’s late, I’m tired and I just want to go to bed.”

“Without changing the lock? With that hole in your sliding door?”

She just shook her head, unable to find words. Tonight had been terrifying. When Zoe had shown up, letting herself in with her old key and demanding more money from Kayla, she’d thought she could talk the other woman down. How wrong had she been? Zoe went crazy and grabbed Sienna from her crib, making wild threats. Kayla didn’t stop to think. Maternal instinct simply took over and she launched herself at Zoe. Both of them fell onto the bed and she tussled with her, determined to free her little girl from the madwoman’s clutches. It was the last thing Zoe had anticipated and Kayla quickly wrested her baby free. After putting Sienna back in her crib, Kayla shoved Zoe out of the bedroom and barricaded them both inside. Sienna screamed her lungs out through the whole ordeal.

Zoe went completely over the edge at that stage and all Kayla could do was listen helplessly while the other woman destroyed the rest of the apartment. She couldn’t even call the police, because her phone was in the living room. Thankfully, several of her neighbors had heard the commotion.

Another shudder racked her body. It had been only two days since the implantation procedure. She wasn’t supposed to undertake any strenuous activity and things had gotten pretty strenuous when she and Zoe had struggled together—not to mention the strain of dragging her grandmother’s old wooden dresser across the door to stop Zoe from breaking her way back into the bedroom. Already she could feel aches and pains in every part of her body. She wrapped her arms across her stomach, holding herself tight. She couldn’t lose the babies, not now.

“Kayla?”

Van said her name impatiently, forcing her to drag her thoughts together.

“I’m insured. I’ll call someone after I get a hold of the building manager to report the damage,” she said weakly.

“And how long do you think it’ll take before they can get contractors here? Leave it to me.”

Without waiting for her response, Van pulled up a number on his cell phone and started talking. She dropped her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes again, opening them only when he finished his call.

“A team will be here in about thirty minutes.”

He could do that? Just how much pull did he have these days? She didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. Van gave her a look, as if he could see exactly what she was thinking.

“You look awful,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”

“Sure, a million dollars would be nice, since you’re asking,” she answered flippantly, then cringed, realizing that probably wasn’t going to help her cause.

She hastened to head him off before he verbalized some cutting comeback. “I’m sorry. It’s just the shock talking. Maybe...” She turned toward the kitchen, staring at the empty cupboards, some doors hanging drunkenly on their hinges. “I’d have said a cup of tea would be good about now, but she’s trashed the kitchen, hasn’t she?”

“Leave it to me,” Van said again, righting Sienna’s high chair on his way through the mess. He picked up her battered electric kettle and held it aloft. “We have progress,” he said, then proceeded to rinse it out before refilling it and plugging it back in to heat. While he waited, he started to put things back in the cupboards—what hadn’t been smashed to pieces, at least.

“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

“You said you’ll talk when this is all cleaned up. I’m cleaning up.”

The not-so-subtle reminder that he still expected to talk with her tonight did not go unnoticed. While Kayla sipped her tea, Van continued to work through the kitchen, setting it to rights as much as he could. Broken crockery went in a cardboard box. Undamaged food was stacked in the small pantry. Steadily, he restored order. By the time his crew arrived, he was almost done with the kitchen.

Kayla was surprised at the men who came through her front door. One had a prosthetic leg, another severe burn scars down one side of his face and neck, along with several missing fingers. After greeting Van with a camaraderie that obviously went back years, they got to work fast—replacing the shattered pane in her sliding door and putting in new locks. While they worked, Van made and received several calls. Kayla could do nothing but watch and tell them where she wanted the remaining unbroken pieces of furniture set. She thought they were finally all done, but when she saw them begin to install a wireless security system, she started to protest.

“Van, what’s that? I don’t need some fancy security system and I certainly can’t afford it, either.”

“Humor me,” he said darkly. “Security is my business, and, correct me if I’m wrong, it is my daughter in that bedroom, and those are my children you’re carrying, aren’t they?”

If she was still carrying them. “Y-yes,” she managed to say on the swell of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

It was the first time she’d heard him actually acknowledge the babies as his. The intimation that he’d take care of them, all of them, was loud and clear. Relief seeped through her whole body. He was going to help her. Hadn’t he just said as much?

It was after midnight when his team finished. Van saw them to the door and locked it behind them. Double locked and chained, Kayla noted. She fought back a yawn as Van walked back toward her, pocketing one set of keys and handing the other set to her.

“You’re keeping a set?” she asked, a little confused.

“Let’s call it protecting my investment,” he said cryptically.

“Investment?”

“Since you seem to be incapable of looking after yourself responsibly, obviously it’s up to me to do so.”

The warm buzz of hope that had filled her only a short while ago faded fast.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“It’s too late for me to do anything about the embryo transfer. As much as I vehemently disagree with what you did, I can’t undo it. But I can make sure that my children are brought up safe.”

“That’s what I want, too,” Kayla agreed.

“Really? And yet you were the one who brought a stranger in off the street to live with you and Sienna. A woman whose background you hadn’t investigated, someone with no references. Honestly, Kayla—a drug addict? That’s your idea of safe?”

“She wasn’t on drugs when I invited her to stay here. And she showed me her qualifications. She is a trained child-care worker and she loved Sienna.”

No matter how much she remonstrated, Kayla knew in her heart that Van was right. She trusted people too easily and look where that had left her. Broke and broken.

“Did you know she was suspended from her last place of employment because she failed a drug test—not once but twice?”

Kayla felt sick to her stomach, and not just because she was pregnant. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Obviously.” Van pushed his fingers through his hair, messing it into a wild tousle that only made him look even more lethal, more attractive, than ever. “I want custody of the children.”

“Shared custody, of course. I think it’s important that the children get to know their father.”

Van cast her a look, his green eyes as deep and unfathomable as a forest lake. “No, Kayla, you misunderstand me. Not shared custody, full custody. It starts with Sienna and will continue with the new babies when they’re born.”

That sick feeling inside her surged. “You can’t mean that. You can’t take her away from the only parent she’s ever known. It would be cruel. Besides, she’s mine. No judge will award you full custody. You signed away your rights already.”

“No judge? Really? And when shown your unstable background, your bad choices and your deadbeat friends, do you really think a judge isn’t going to look more favorably upon me? Let’s see, shall we?” He began to enumerate a few of the escapades she’d gotten caught up in as a teenager, some of which had involved the police.

“Look, everyone makes mistakes when they’re young and foolish. Half the population of this country wouldn’t have children if what you did as a kid was the only measure of how appropriate a parent you’d be.”

“And now, Kayla? You’re what, a masseuse?”

He said the word as if she was no more than a street-corner prostitute.

“I’m a fully trained massage therapist. There is a difference, you know. I’m respected and I’m good at my job.”

“A job that takes you away from Sienna, right? A job that makes you leave her in the care of someone phenomenally unfit. And tell me, Kayla, does this job of yours pay so well that you can afford to stop work and care for three children under the age of two? Or were you planning to go to the local homeless shelter and find more day-care options there?”

“I’ll manage—with your help, of course.”

“With my help,” he repeated grimly. “You’re a piece of work, you know that? How much money do you have left in the bank?”

“That’s none of your business.”

She’d saved a few hundred dollars since Zoe had cleaned her out. Not much, but it was a start.

“I’m guessing that even if you’re saving, it’s nowhere near enough for you to even make the rent here when you have to stop working after the babies are born, is it?”

“I’ll manage. I always have before and I will again. I’ll sell Sienna’s jewelry if I have to.”

Kayla lifted a hand to finger the gold chain at her throat. Van’s eyes tracked the movement and she felt the burn of his gaze as if it was a physical touch searing her skin.

“And you think that’ll help? And what about when that’s all gone—have you thought about that? Be honest with yourself, Kayla. No court is going to declare you a fit parent—especially not in comparison to me. I’m a decorated veteran, a stable and successful businessman, I’m engaged to be married and I have a debt-free home.”

He was engaged?

For some reason that one piece of information sent a wave of desolation through her—as though she’d lost something very important without even realizing it. It was stupid, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she and Van had ever been close growing up, and that one-night stand the evening after Sienna’s funeral had been more of a release of mutual grief than attraction. But even so, she still couldn’t look at Van without remembering that night with him. That night she’d wondered if—no, hoped, she finally admitted to herself—they could move forward from that point and discover whether they could have more together.

But he’d run away, hadn’t he? Just like he’d done when he’d turned eighteen and joined the army. Just like he’d done when Sienna’s diagnosis had come through and he’d transferred to Special Forces. It seemed that when the chips were down, Van Murphy couldn’t be relied upon. So how good a father would he be?

She stood up and squared her shoulders, ignoring the dull throb emanating from her forehead, and looked him in the eye.

“You might think that all it takes is money to be a parent, Van Murphy, but prepare yourself for a monumental fight. A man like you could never be a decent father and my children—yes, mine—deserve better than a man who cuts and runs whenever the going gets tough. They deserve love and I’m betting that’s something you’re never going to be capable of giving to anyone.”

* * *

Van listened to her words, felt each one like a hot round of lead attempting to pierce the shield he’d wrapped around his emotions a long time ago. She was probably right. The children certainly did deserve more love and affection than he knew how to offer, but the alternative was emphatically not her lackadaisical approach to life, either.

He forced himself to smile. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Kayla? Still the dreamer, still thinking everything will all work out in the end if you just believe in it enough. But life, real life, is not like that.”

“Isn’t it? Tell me, then, the men you had working for you here tonight. You served with them?”

Where the hell was she going with this? He crossed his arms and nodded.

“And when they came home, they were broken, weren’t they. Physically and probably mentally, too.”

He grimaced. Those had been bad days.

“And you gave them something, didn’t you? You gave them a purpose, gave them back their pride. Because you believed in them, you made them see that they still had skills and worth and something to offer. And they’re happy now, aren’t they? So don’t tell me that things don’t work out in the end.”

He didn’t like the way she made him feel or the way she made him think. He turned and went to the door.

“Yes, that’s right, Van. You run away, and you keep on running!” she said forcefully at his retreating back.

From the bedroom, he heard Sienna’s cry. “My daughter needs you,” he said coldly. “Best you attend to her.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m what’s best for her and don’t you forget it.”

He wasn’t likely to forget the fierce look on Kayla’s pale face, nor the impassioned glare in her eyes. Her expression haunted him as he pounded down the stairs and along the sidewalk toward his car. She was right about his running, he thought as he drove back to the city. But what she didn’t understand was that running meant survival. It meant staying safe both physically and emotionally. And if that was what he had to do, then that was what would happen.

He glanced at the time on the dashboard display. Almost 1:00 a.m. It wouldn’t be worth the hour-and-a-half drive south to head to his home. Even if he filed a night flight and took the chopper, he’d no sooner be asleep before he’d need to be up and flying back to San Francisco. He might as well stay in his apartment.

After putting his car in the parking garage in the basement of the building, he took his private elevator up to the apartment. The moment the doors swished open, a tingle of awareness warned him that he wasn’t alone.

A single light shone in the sitting room, bathing the woman who curled up in a corner of his sofa in a golden glow. Dani. He wondered how long she’d been waiting here. She must have sensed his arrival because she stretched like a cat and opened her eyes.

“Everything okay?” she asked, getting gracefully to her feet and walking toward him. “I called Imelda to see if you’d gone back to the house tonight but she said you weren’t home, so I assumed you’d show up here eventually. Are you happy to see me?”

She lifted her face to his and kissed him. He met her kiss perfunctorily.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.

She frowned, her mouth a moue of disappointment at his lukewarm reception. “I know, but we’re here now, right? We can still make the most of what’s left of the night.”

Dani lifted her left hand and tucked her hair behind one ear. The movement caused her diamond to flash, reminding him of the decision he’d reached in the car on the way over here. She started to smile invitingly, but when she realized he still wasn’t responding in kind, her expression grew serious.

“What is it, Donovan? Is everything okay?”

He sighed. No, everything most certainly was not.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound promising. Can it wait? Maybe things will look better in the morning and...” she arched one brow and gave him a look full of sensual promise “...perhaps I can distract you in the meantime.”

Any other day, any other week, he’d have taken her up on the offer. Not after tonight, though, and not after the decision he’d made.

“I’m sorry, Dani—” he started.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The woman with the baby last month. Is it yours?”

Van wiped his face with one hand. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Dani continued. “Of course it is. She’s a beautiful child and looks a lot like you. But it doesn’t have to be a problem. Everyone can be bought for the right price, Van. Even past lovers. Pay her mother to leave you alone. If you take care of that little problem, we can carry on as we’d always intended.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Van said.

He explained, in the barest terms possible, about his arrangement with Sienna and about Kayla’s decision to have her sister’s children—his children.

“I don’t see the issue. There’s no need for you to be involved in their lives. She came to you for money—give it to her. Make the problem go away, Donovan.”

There was a steely tone to her voice that showed a side of her he’d always known lingered beneath her smooth surface. Dani Matthews did not like to be thwarted. Normally, neither did he. But something had changed in the course of tonight. Instincts he hadn’t known he possessed had pushed up through his barriers. Protective instincts, fatherly instincts.

His mother and father had abandoned him in the pursuit of their next alcoholic buzz. His adoptive parents had been of the “spare the rod and spoil the child” variety, never showing love, never admitting pride in any of his achievements and never, ever, giving encouragement. He wouldn’t be like any of them. He had a chance to make things right for his children. To give them the stability and the opportunities his upbringing had never given him.

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry, Dani, but our engagement is off. I’m going to be a father.”