Not easy to do, she thought. She couldn't help worrying. The thought of being responsible for a tiny human being was almost as terrifying as a fatal illness. She'd get over it, though, she told herself. People had been having babies for thousands of years. Presumably every mother was afraid of the responsibility at first.
They ran tests and Tess spent a long, sleepless night worrying about it. She hadn't told anyone at the office what the doctor suspected. But when she answered the phone at work, and she heard the nurse's calm voice telling her that she was, indeed, pregnant, she had to struggle to not fall over. She numbly thanked the woman and hung up, without waiting to schedule her next appointment or talk about referral to an obstetrician. That, she decided vaguely, could wait one more day.
"You've gone white," Delcy, the other skip tracer, said worriedly. "Tess, are you all right?"
"All right." Tess nodded.
"Want some coffee?"
"No. Yes. I don't know. Thank you."
Delcy began to laugh. "What was that phone call? A proposal from a boyfriend?''
Tess fought to pull herself together. "Sorry," she said, flushing. "No, it was the doctor's office telling me that I'm going to be all right."
"Thank goodness. You've had us all worried."
"Me, too," Tess confessed. She sat back in the chair, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. She was carrying Dane's child. He wouldn't know. He probably wouldn't even believe it was his. But she knew, and the thought of having a child was suddenly magical, awesome.
For the rest of the day, Tess did her job mechanically. A big part of a detective agency's routine was finding missing people: deserting spouses, runaway teens, felons skipping out on bail, people trying to outrun debtors, even adopted children trying to find natural parents for one reason or another. Usually, a good skip tracer could find a missing person in under an hour, with some help from contacts at public agencies and a little careful conversation. It wasn't exactly deductive reasoning on the order of Sherlock Holmes's, but it served a purpose and it could be rewarding. The day before, when she'd gone to work after visiting the doctor, Tess had located a runaway teenage boy who was trying to make enough money to go home to his frantic parents. The ensuing reunion had earned Tess a tearful phone call of gratitude from parents and son. She'd gone home feeling a little less brittle than usual, feeling useful again.
Today was less successful, probably because she was preoccupied. She succeeded in locating a man whose wife was tracking him down to recover a year's worth of child-support payments. She was glad the man didn't know who at the agency had found him, but all the same Mr. Short was on the receiving end of some nasty language and a veiled threat.
"I'm really sorry...." Tess began when he hung up.
He laughed with real delight. "Tess, it goes with the job," he said. "I'll bet Dane got his ears burned every day. People in trouble don't like being found. That's human nature."
Mention of Dane made her uncomfortable. She nodded.
"You're just nervous because of what happened to you," he guessed. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, having a felon try to hurt you. You'll never be in the line of fire here, okay?"
"Okay."
He paused by her desk, his eyes narrow and speculative. "I don't usually mix business with pleasure, but how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
She was shocked by the suggestion. Dane was in her past now and she was pregnant, but it was as if she'd been asked to commit adultery just by going out with a man.
"Thank you very much," she said genuinely, "but I can't, if you don't mind. I'm...getting over someone."
"Ah. I see." He smiled. "Time does heal wounds, you know. I'll ask again, one of these days."
She nodded, but she didn't encourage him. She had enough upheaval in her life at the moment.
Houston was a big city, and because she was confined to the office, she didn't see much of it. That was good. There was very little chance of running into Dane. But as a month became two, and then three, Kit came home. And life became tedious.
Tess wanted so badly to call Dane and tell him about the baby. But he'd said, over and over, that he didn't want to marry again, that he didn't want commitment. She couldn't tell him she was pregnant because he'd feel obliged to marry her. Even if he wanted the child, how could she put him in such a position? And what if, heaven forbid, he didn't believe it was his? He'd told her he was sterile. He might accuse her of being with another man.
There was, as well, one really good reason why she shouldn't say anything just yet. She was having some pain and a good deal of spotting. She knew those were bad symptoms, and so did her doctor, who promptly made an appointment for her with the obstetrician when she described them to him. She had to find out exactly what was wrong. If she was in danger of losing the child, telling Dane would be the worst thing she could do.
In the end, her muddled mind simply avoided thinking about the problem. But it didn't go away.
"Why can't you come and have lunch with me today?" Kit moaned. "I'm just home from Italy! Mr. Deverell is giving me fits! I want to assassinate him. I've got to talk to you!"
She couldn't go have lunch with Kit because Kit worked just down the street from the Lassiter Agency, and the restaurant where she ate was one that Dane frequented. But she couldn't tell Kit that.
"You could drive over here...."
"I don't understand any of this," Kit said heavily. "If it wasn't for Helen, I wouldn't even have known how to get in touch with you. I come home from one little trip and you've changed jobs and moved across town."
"It was necessary."
"This isn't like you, to desert your friends," Kit muttered. "It's something more, I know it is."
"Look, you could come over tonight and I'll tell you all about it."
"Lunch would be quicker."
There was a long pause. Tess tangled the telephone cord in her hands, wary of being overheard. "I can't have lunch at the restau-rant. I don't want...to run into Dane."
There was a longer pause on the other end. "I had a feeling that might be the case. There's a restaurant that specializes in fish between your office and mine—know where it is?"
"Yes."
"I'll meet you there at noon. Fair enough? Neutral ground?"
"Fair enough."
The restaurant Kit had chosen was busy, but big enough to serve a large lunch crowd. Even though it was miles from Dane's office, Tess's gray eyes slid around nervously until she saw tall, elegant Kit walking toward her. Kit had thick dark hair that curved toward her pixie face, with sparkling blue eyes under long, silky lashes. Tess was tall, but Kit was taller, and thinner at the moment.
The older girl stared at Tess and frowned. "You've gained weight, haven't you?" she asked, indicating the loose, white knit sweater Tess was wearing. Her charcoal slacks were two sizes larger than she normally wore, to accommodate her expanding waistline. Her face was fuller, too; more radiant.
"I've gained a little," Tess confessed. "There's an Italian restaurant near the agency."
"I hear you're working as a skip tracer now," Kit said, shaking her head. "It took you long enough to decide to fight Dane's influence. He'd never have let you do anything like that while you worked for him. He's hopelessly overprotective."
Tess was stiff, unusually so, as they were seated and given menus.
Kit stared at her intently. "You might as well tell me. I'm not going to give up until you do."
"I'm pregnant," Tess blurted out, her lips trembling.
Kit became statue-still, as if she'd stopped breathing. "Dane's?" she asked finally, letting out a slow breath.
"Yes."
The older girl began to smile, her eyes quietly compassionate. "And he doesn't know," she said.
Tess nodded, dropping her eyes to the menu. She could hardly see it for the mist in front of her.
"His marriage failed," Kit said gently. "He's running scared. Everybody knows. Not only that, he lost the job h
e loved, along with his mother, and he's not as able physically as he used to be. It's natural that he'd fight getting involved again, especially with someone as vulnerable as you." She touched Tess's cold hand. "You're going to tell him, aren't you, eventually?"
"Eventually. Not now."
"Why?"
Tess hesitated. "I've been having some problems. I've got an appointment to see my obstetrician tomorrow morning." She grimaced. "His nurse didn't sound very encouraging when I gave her my symptoms." She looked up worriedly. "I've got one of those all-purpose medical books. It could be early signs of a miscarriage," she said nervously. "Kit, what will I do? I can't lose it now, I just can't! It's all I've got...!"
Kit clasped the cold fingers firmly. "Get hold of yourself," she said, her voice reassuring. "It's all right, Tess. It's all right. Take a deep breath. And another. That's it. Listen to me—you've got to stop this. Don't start thinking negatively. It's dangerous."
"But what will I do—" She stopped in midsentence and her face became drained of color as she saw who was coming in the door.
"Dane," Kit guessed before she turned around. She winced. "He never comes here!"
Not only was he there, his eyes were searching the restaurant as if he were looking for someone. When his gaze found Tess, he started visibly. His face tautened and he made a beeline for her.
"No," Tess whispered huskily. "He can't...!"
But he did. He paused by the table, his dark eyes sliding with quiet desperation over Tess's wan face, as if he couldn't get enough of just looking at her. "We haven't seen you in weeks," he said curtly. "I thought you might at least stop by once in a while to say hello. Or don't you care enough?"
That was a strange question from someone who'd as much as admitted that he couldn't bear the sight of her.
"I work across town," she said, schooling her voice to remain calm even though she was shaking inside. "It's difficult for me to get away."
"Yes. I understand that you're doing a skip tracer's job now."
She lifted her chin. "Yes. It's nice to do a little real detective work for a change."
He searched her gray eyes slowly, and she saw shadows in his that she couldn't define. She couldn't know he'd been starving for her. The apartment was empty, his job was empty, his life was empty. He'd never thought he was capable of missing someone so much. The fact that she'd gone away and stayed away made him vicious. She'd sworn undying love, but she didn't seem to be dying without him. She couldn't be bothered to phone the office or visit, not even to see Helen or have lunch with her friend Kit.
"Detective work is dangerous," he said shortly.
"Yes, I know. I got shot, didn't I?"
He drew in a slow breath, ramming his lean hands into the pockets of his gray slacks. He looked worn. "You might at least call us once in a while, so we know you're still alive."
"I'll try to do that," Tess replied. She averted her eyes to the table. "I suppose Helen does miss me."
His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. Yes, Helen missed her. But not like he did. He wanted to tell her how much, but she acted as if she wouldn't have believed him. Her whole attitude was one of indifference. How, Tess? he thought bitterly. How can you be like this, after what we shared that night?
It didn't help him to remember that her departure had been his idea. He hadn't wanted commitment, he'd told her. But that was before he'd tried to face life without her beside him. He hated going home at night, because Tess wouldn't be in the apartment when he got there. He hated his very life, empty and cold and unsatisfying because she was no longer part of it. His dark eyes caressed her bent head and he sighed. He'd sent her away. Now he couldn't get her back. He didn't know what to do. Had he killed every shred of feeling she'd had for him?
"Don't you want to join us, Dane?" Kit asked when the silence grew tense and prolonged.
"No," he said absently. "I have to get back to work. Tess?"
She looked up, wounded by the false tenderness in his deep drawl. “Yes?"
He searched her drawn face quietly. "Are you all right?" he asked gently. "You look..." He wasn't sure how she looked. Sick. Worried. "Have you been ill again?"
The color surged back into her cheeks. She averted her face.“Winter brings on plenty of colds, you know," she replied evasively. It hurt her to look at him. She didn't dare do it for long, or everything she felt would rush into her eyes and betray her. She was carrying his child under her heart, and she couldn't tell him. It hurt...!
She gasped as a stab of pain went through her. It was a familiar pain—one she had every time she did a lot of walking just lately— and the reason she'd called the obstetrician's office for an appointment.
"Tess!"
Dane was beside her, kneeling, his hand grasping hers, his dark eyes full of concern. "What is it, little one?" he asked quickly. "Are you all right?"
"I think I have an ulcer, that's all," she hedged. The touch of his hand was driving her mad, sending waves of helpless pleasure through her body. She lifted her eyes and met his, and the world stopped. Everything stopped. She looked at him and her heart broke in two inside her body.
His face contorted. His eyes were tormented. "Tess," he groaned, his voice as haunted as his eyes.
She took a slow breath and shivered at the need for him that still consumed her. "I'm okay," she whispered. "Really, Dane."
His hand was clutching hers bruisingly. He realized it and loosened his grip. Neither of them noticed Kit, who was sipping coffee and trying to be invisible.
"See a doctor, will you?" he asked tightly. "Don't take chances with your health."
"I'll do that," she promised. Her eyes slid to his mouth and she forcefully levered them back up to his. "Are you all right?" she asked softly.
Her voice made him warm all over. His cheeks went ruddy as he looked at her, and his heart raced. "No," he said huskily. He drew in a sharp breath, fighting down the need to beg her to come back. "Maybe I miss you, pretty girl," he drawled, his smile faintly mocking.
"Maybe beans walk," she returned, smiling back.
His broad shoulders rose and fell. "You could do skip tracing for me, I guess," he murmured reluctantly.
"You've got three skip tracers already," she reminded him, although the offer made her tingle. He had to miss her a little, even if he didn't want to.
"I'll fire one," he offered.
She laughed. "No. I'm happy with Mr. Short, Dane," she said after a minute. "It wouldn't work out."
"You could give it a chance," he said slowly, with an expression in his eyes that she couldn't understand.
"The job?" She faltered.
He hesitated. He wanted to say, No, not the job, me. He wanted to ask her to pack a suitcase and move in with him, live with him, sleep with him. Nothing could be as bad as life without her. Perhaps if she cared enough, they could build some kind of marriage even if children were impossible. God knew, he wanted her enough to risk it. She'd loved him once; he knew she had. There might still be time....
But she laughed suddenly again, hiding her own feelings. "I don't want to come back, thanks all the same," she said, sparing him the embarrassment of knowing she was still hopelessly in love with him. She didn't want his pity. "I'm very happy, Dane. I like what I'm doing, and Mr. Short even asked me out. Who knows where it might lead?"
Dane's eyes went black, glittery. "Short's in his forties," he said through his teeth. "Too old and too much of a philanderer...!"
"Is that the time?" Kit interrupted, seeing danger signals ahead. "Gosh, I've got to go, Tess!"
"Yes, I'll be late, too," Tess said, staring pointedly at Dane, who was blocking her exit.
He got to his feet slowly, vibrating with anger. Short, with his Tess! He felt like hitting something.
Tess got to her feet slowly and clasped her bag while Kit left the
tip.“It was nice to see you,” she said hesitantly.
Dane didn't speak. He looked at her blindly, anger in every line of his tal
l, fit body. All at once, he frowned. His eyes went over her like hands and the scowl grew worse.
“You've gained weight, haven't you?" he asked suddenly.
“A little." She avoided his piercing gaze. "Too many doughnuts."
"No. No, it suits you," he said hesitantly.
She bit her lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. She wanted to tell him. It was killing her not to tell him. She had no idea how he'd react, and it would probably be a bad thing, with the problems she'd been having. But it was his right to know. Committed, she raised her eyes to his and opened her mouth to speak. But before she could form a word, a passerby recognized him and stepped forward, hand out, grinning.
"Dane Lassiter! I thought it was you!" the man said enthusiastically.
While Dane was fielding his acquaintance's greeting, Tess darted around him and followed Kit out of the restaurant. It had to be fate, she told herself, her heart racing as she realized how close she'd come to blowing her cover. She shouldn't tell him yet. Not until she'd seen the doctor. After she found out what was wrong, she could make decisions.
"I'll bet he followed me," Kit mused as they went to their respective cars. "He isn't a private detective for nothing. He misses you, Tess. A blind person could see it."
"Missing and loving are two different things," she sighed.
"He had to have cared a little bit. After all, it took two for you to be in that condition," the other girl began.
"I seduced him," Tess said, flushing. "I had some crazy idea that if I could convince him of how deeply I loved him, he might start believing in commitment again. But it didn't work. He couldn't shoot me out of the door fast enough."
"He doesn't look as if he likes having you out the door."
Tess shrugged. "It still isn't enough. I can't go back to work for him. I'd eat my heart out. Especially now, I don't need to be around him. He isn't stupid. Eventually, my condition will become obvious."
"Forgive me, but it's already getting there. He's bound to find out," Kit said.
"I know. I'll deal with that when I have to. Right now, I have to get back to work. Not a word to Helen," she cautioned.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 107