by Francis Ray
She had friends in Houston, but as she told Daniel, she wasn’t ready to share her pregnancy with anyone else. She went to sleep Saturday night, feeling better than she had in weeks.
She awoke sometime during the night. A muscular arm was flung possessively across her waist, anchoring her to the sculptured male perfection of Daniel’s body. His beautiful thick hair tumbled across his powerful bare shoulders. He still wore his pants. Obviously his intent had been to get some rest, not to seduce.
By the light from the lamp on the nightstand, she studied the incredible beauty of his face inches from her own. Since the eyes that had always fascinated her were closed, her gaze centered on his lips. Lips that could steal a woman’s will and give her incredible pleasure.
Tentatively her finger traced the shape. His arms tightened, drawing her closer still. She smiled. It seemed natural and right that he would be there for her and their baby. Snuggling closer, she went back to sleep.
Sunday arrived and she continued to improve. Instead of a quick shower, she took a long bath, then ate lunch at the kitchen table. Daniel insisted she rest afterward, and she let him have his way.
Waking later that afternoon, she didn’t see him. Curious, she got up and pulled on her robe. Since he had brought her home, he had never been far from her side. She missed him.
She found him in the kitchen. She smiled. “There you are.”
He glanced up, then went back to unloading the various sacks spread out on the counter. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Going to his side, she opened one of the containers. “Baked chicken. It smells delicious. I’ll set the table for us this time.”
He shifted uneasily, then looked at her. “Do you think you’ll have any trouble from here?”
The smile slid from her face. Trembling fingers set the hard clear plastic container down. “No.”
“I’ll be going then.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. “My private number is on there. Call me if you need anything.”
Her hand clutched the card. Unable to speak, she nodded.
She watched him almost run for the front door. Misery welled up inside her. “Oh, Daniel.”
* * *
A tense Daniel sat in the backseat of the Mercedes as Higgins pulled out of Madelyn’s apartment complex. Daniel hadn’t wanted to leave. But he had had to. She possessed the unique ability of slipping past his defenses. Remaining emotionally detached while caring for her was impossible.
He had been doing all right until she became restless Saturday night. He thought he heard a noise coming from her bedroom, so he had gotten up from the sofa where he had been sleeping, pulled on his pants, and went to check on her. She was turning one way, then the other as if she couldn’t get comfortable.
Things had started off innocently enough by him feeling her forehead, then her cheek to see if she had a fever. Almost immediately she had pressed her cheek against his hand, deepening the contact, and murmured his name.
The next thing he knew, he was in bed with her, holding her, inhaling her scent, whispering nonsensical words about him being there and she could rest. Unexpectedly, being with her calmed him as well.
Waking her every four hours for her meals hadn’t been difficult because he had been unable to sleep. Holding Madelyn, he had slept way past his usual hour of rising at six in the morning. He realized then he had to leave.
Sharing the warmth and comfort of another’s body could be as addictive as sex. Staying around her would only complicate matters. He had helped her when she needed it, now it was time to get on with his life and she hers.
As soon as the car rolled to a stop in front of his two-story country French mansion on the outskirts of Houston, Daniel got out. He took the four curved brick steps by two, then opened the leaded glass front door and entered the house.
Impatient steps rang loudly on the marble floor as he crossed the seventeen-by-seventeen foyer. He headed for the elegant wood spiral staircase, unmindful of the bright stream of sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows on the fifty-foot wall of the living room to his immediate right.
He needed a shower and a change of clothes, and to make a phone call. Canceling an appointment ten minutes before time with a man who owned one of the largest rig-manufacturing firms in the country wasn’t done. Especially when Daniel needed rigs to bring up oil and gas, and rigs were in short supply and high demand since the energy boom. But not for one second did Daniel regret his decision.
He hit the stairs running, then groaned on seeing his mother coming toward him. Although she enjoyed an active social life and was dressed in something soft and flowing, he didn’t hold out much hope she was going out. Because more than anything else, she’d enjoy having a grandchild.
“Good evening, Mother.”
“Good evening, Daniel. I’m going to be disappointed in you if that young woman really is married.”
It certainly hadn’t taken her long to start in on him. “Mother, stay out of it.”
She turned and followed him up the stairs. “Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Daniel Falcon. I don’t care how many boards you sit on.”
“I thought you were going to stay in New York until the play you were backing opened,” he said, hoping to change the subject.
“Seeing my favorite son is much more important,” she said, accompanying him down the wide hallway. “Looks like I returned just in time.”
“Mother, unless there’s something you haven’t told me, I’m your only son, and I’m tired.” He opened the door to his room. “Do you mind?”
Apparently she did because she smiled sweetly and stepped past him. Still smiling she sank gracefully onto the maroon silk coverlet on his immense four-poster bed, then crossed her legs at the ankles.
Lilac chiffon fluttered and settled midcalf. “I hope she’s feeling better. I never had morning sickness with Dominique, but you were a trial.” Her eyes narrowed. “You still are.”
A clean shirt in his hand, Daniel paused at the wardrobe, caught between learning more about morning sickness and keeping his mother out of his business. The keenness in her gaze decided him. He’d get the rest of his things later. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Leaning back, Felicia braced her hands on the bed. “I suppose I can have Higgins retrace his route and talk to her myself.”
He stepped a few feet from the bathroom door. “Mother, please.”
“I want to know her. You might as well give in.”
Gripping the shirt in his hand, he faced her. “It’s not mine.”
His mother clearly didn’t appear convinced. “You want me to believe that you spent the last two days nursing a pregnant woman—and you’re not involved?”
“I’m going to fire Higgins.” Daniel had had the chauffeur come back on Saturday to check to see if she needed anything, then Daniel had called him to pick him up this afternoon.
His mother’s smile returned. “You can’t. I pay him out of my money. Besides, you care for him too much.”
“Sometimes I do things I don’t want to,” Daniel said with suppressed anger.
Rising from the bed, she went to her son and placed a soothing hand on his tense shoulder. “You’re an honorable man. Whatever mistakes your father and I might have made in our own lives, we raised you and Dominique right.”
He stared out the window draped in maroon silk damask to the towering pin oaks in the distance. “Sometimes I wonder.”
“Did this young woman start you to wondering?” she questioned softly.
He glanced down into her expectant face. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No.”
He admitted defeat. “Her name is Madelyn Taggart.”
“I guess her family is here in Houston,” Felicia probed.
“No, she’s by herself.” The moment the words left his mouth, he knew his mother was going to interfere. “Mother, stay out of this.”
“Oh, look. It’s almos
t six.” She glanced at the Piaget eighteen-karat gold watch on her slim wrist. “I better let you get your shower or dinner will be late.” She hurried from the room.
“Mother.”
She kept going. Daniel said one explicit word under his breath.
Chapter 9
Monday afternoon Madelyn groaned on hearing her doorbell. She didn’t want to talk with anyone, had left work early for that very reason. She had a lot of thinking to do.
Whatever ideas or options she came up with, Daniel wouldn’t be a part of them. Foolishly, while he had cared for her over the weekend, she had begun to think he had accepted the baby as his and wanted to be a part of their lives. His quick departure Sunday afternoon proved her wrong.
The doorbell chimed again. Madelyn ignored the sound. He’d left so fast, he probably singed the soles of his expensive loafers.
The memory angered her as much as it confused and saddened her. Who was the real Daniel? The compassionate man who bathed her face and coaxed her into eating or the hard-eyed man who thought she had gone from his bed to that of another man’s?
Whatever the answer, his loss.
She didn’t want a man who thought her so lacking in morals. He honestly didn’t believe her. In his life’s experience women moved from man to man with a shameless disregard for propriety—and always, always with an ulterior motive. True, Daniel hadn’t known her long, but she felt he should have known her character.
She had expected his reaction to be her reaction to their relationship, one of complete faith and trust—and yes, love. She had been so wrong. She should have listened to what he said and not to her own foolish heart.
The bell sounded for the third time. Sighing, Madelyn pushed up from the sofa. Obviously the caller wasn’t going away.
Determined to quickly get rid of the person, Madelyn opened the door. Surprise narrowed, then widened her eyes. Her determined visitor was the woman from the lobby of Daniel’s office building.
“Hello, Madelyn,” the woman greeted with a warm smile. “May I come in?”
Madelyn wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation with one of Daniel’s lady friends—although so far this one wasn’t spitting venom.
“I’m rather busy. What’s this about?”
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me,” the woman said.
This one might be older and more sophisticated than the other two, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t turn into a spiteful shrew. “Could you be more specific?” Madelyn asked, glancing over her shoulder at the sound of a cheer from the TV set.
“Is your husband home?” the woman inquired.
Unprepared for the question, Madelyn answered before she thought. “I’m not married.”
The woman beamed. “I knew it. Please, may I come in? I don’t think we should talk out here.”
“Then you had better tell me your name and what you want,” Madelyn told her.
Astonishment flashed across the other woman’s attractive brown face. “Daniel didn’t tell you?”
The queasiness that had been absent for the past two days returned. “No.”
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” She extended her manicured hand. “I’m Felicia Falcon.”
Stunned, Madelyn stared at the other woman in utter horror. Only her grip on the doorknob kept her upright. “You’re Daniel’s wife?”
“Mother. You better sit down.” Stepping inside, Felicia closed the door and led Madelyn to a chair and hovered over her. “Better?”
“Yes,” Madelyn answered, unable to keep from staring at the youthful-looking woman. “You’re his mother?”
Felicia’s smile was one of pleasure and indulgence. “I married when I was eighteen.”
Madelyn absorbed the information. Daniel’s mother didn’t look to be older than her midforties. He was thirty-three. Face-lift or good genes? “Any cosmetic firm, including my brother’s, would fight to get you as a spokeswoman.”
Felicia laughed, a bright, soothing sound. “Whenever I need a pick-me-up, I shall have to come and see you.”
“Why are you here now?” Madelyn asked.
Felicia’s gaze touched Madelyn’s trim waist before meeting her eyes. “I’ve come to ask you something. Something my son says I have no right to ask, but I’ve never been one to listen to what other people think I should do or say.” She paused for only a second. “Are you carrying Daniel’s baby?”
Madelyn flushed, then straightened. “I don’t want to be rude, but Daniel is right. The answer to that question is none of your business.”
To her credit Felicia didn’t appear upset by Madelyn’s statement. “May I sit down?”
“Of course.” Good manners won over nervousness.
Felicia sank gracefully into the jewel-tone floral sofa by Madelyn’s chair. Once seated, she placed her black quilted calfskin handbag in her lap, then crossed her long legs at the ankles.
Today she wore another Chanel suit, this one in black minicheck. Deeply etched, small drop sterling silver earrings dangled from her ears. Understated and elegant.
Madelyn sat up even straighter in the antique, Duncan Phyfe armchair given to her by her maternal grandmother and refinished and reupholstered by Kane in seafoam green. She wished she had on something besides a red and white cotton knit striped short set that clashed with her purple slipper socks. At least her hair was combed.
“I have two beautiful children whom I love very much. Dominique is in Paris doing a photo shoot. She says she’s having the time of her life.” Felicia pressed her lips together. “Sometimes I think she almost believes it herself.”
“Mrs. Falcon, perhaps you shouldn’t be telling me this,” Madelyn said.
Felicia sent her another smile, just not as bright. “I’m not saying anything to you I haven’t said to Dominique. Then there is Daniel: aggressive, smart, intelligent, fearless. He took over my father’s business interests when he graduated from Harvard, magna cum laude, with an MBA. He has more money than he can spend in ten lifetimes, and he has no one to share it with.”
“Mrs. Falcon—”
“It’s my fault,” she interrupted, her fingers now wrapped around the top of her bag. “Two years ago I would have flayed alive anyone who suggested such a thing to me. Loneliness has a way of making you face the truth.”
In his mother’s black eyes, Madelyn saw as much misery as in her own. She wondered if Daniel’s father loved Felicia as much as she loved Daniel.
“I made mistakes being a mother. I’d like to think I won’t do the same with grandchildren,” Felicia said softly.
Madelyn moistened her lips. “I didn’t say this was Daniel’s child.”
“You didn’t say it wasn’t, either,” Felicia said, then continued. “Daniel said you have no family here. Is that right?”
“Yes.” There was no harm in answering that question.
“I presume you haven’t told anyone on your job?” Felicia leaned forward in her seat.
Madelyn’s hands clutched in her lap. “No.”
“Then you have no one you can talk to about your pregnancy. I’m volunteering.” Felicia’s eyes sparkled. “I’m not a patient woman by nature, but I promise to try and not badger you too much,” Felicia said.
“Daniel won’t like us seeing each other.” She couldn’t believe she was actually considering his mother’s proposal.
“Contrary to popular belief by some, Daniel doesn’t rule the world,” Felicia pointed out with a graceful arch of her brow.
Madelyn laughed, something she hadn’t done freely in a week. The take-charge feistiness of Felicia was what Madelyn needed. She wouldn’t mope when she was around, and she’d have someone to talk with about the baby.
“I was about to have dinner. Would you care to join me?” Madelyn stood.
Felicia came to her feet, her face wreathed in a wide smile. “I’d love to.”
* * *
“Where have you been?” Daniel asked as soon as Felicia stepped inside the foyer. “
It’s almost eight thirty.”
Felicia kissed her hard-looking son on the cheek, said good night, and headed for the stairs.
Daniel was right on her heels. “You’ve been with her, haven’t you?” He tossed the words in accusation.
“By her, do you mean Madelyn?” Felicia started up the stairs.
“You know da—”
His mother whirled, her sharp gaze cutting off the word. Heat climbed up Daniel’s neck. Although she knew he didn’t curse in front of her, knew he had probably been going to say “darn”—which he was—she also knew one pointed look from her could always make him feel like horse manure. She wasn’t above showing him she still had power over him.
“I asked you not to see her.”
She smiled, forgiving him. “I’m the parent here.”
“You don’t understand,” Daniel told her.
Folding her arms, she casually leaned against the railing. “Then perhaps you’d like to explain things to me.”
Daniel raked his hand through his hair. “Don’t you see, being with her only complicates matters?”
“I’m afraid I don’t see how it complicates matters any more than when you spent the weekend with her,” his mother replied.
A muscle leaped in his jaw. “There was no one else.”
His mother’s sigh was long and eloquent. “Daniel, if you think that is the only reason you stayed with her, then you’re in deeper trouble than I thought.”
His hand clamped down on the polished wood of the banister. “Just promise you won’t see her again.”
Felicia turned and continued up the wide staircase. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
“Mother, I don’t want you seeing her.”
At the top of the stairs, she stared down at her son. “There’s nothing you can do or say that will keep me away from Madelyn and my grandchild.”
“It’s not your grandchild,” he gritted out.
Sadness touched her face. “As long as there is the slightest possibility it is, I plan to be a part of their lives. You’re like your father in so many ways. Please don’t make the same mistake.” Then she was gone.