The Stolen Identity (The Sydney Harbour Hospital Series Book 7)

by Chris Taylor

  “It still seems incredible,” Colt murmured, trying to get his head around the whole thing. “To give birth to two babies and leave one behind…”

  “I can’t imagine the circumstances that must have led to such a decision,” Morgan said quietly. “It was hard enough to terminate a pregnancy that was only a few weeks in, but to carry two babies to term and then offer one of them up to someone else…”

  Colt stared at her. Her eyes remained downcast, fixed on her hands which lay twisted in her lap. Her cheeks were flushed – from anger or sadness or something else, he couldn’t tell. Scraping up his courage, he voiced a question he’d contemplated every now and then over the years.

  “Do you regret the decision not to keep our baby?”

  Her head snapped up. Her eyes blazed into his. He didn’t need to guess about the emotion that was now driving her.

  “Of course I do! What did you expect? That I’d terminate the pregnancy and go on my merry way? I think about our baby so many times, I’m sure it’s not healthy, but I can’t seem to help it.”

  Her voice caught and he stared, horrified, as her eyes welled up with tears. The few times over the past decade when he’d thought about the child that wasn’t to be, it was with sadness and sometimes even a little nostalgia, that he could have already been a dad. He looked to his father and to some of his buddies and occasionally wondered if he were missing out.

  But then he’d see other friends who’d parted ways with their spouses in less than amicable circumstances and the kids were caught in the middle of the fray. At those times, he was glad he was still single and that he hadn’t risked marrying, only to see it all fall apart. That kind of thing happened way too often and nobody seemed immune. He was better off as he was, alone and childless, but also not being responsible for bringing abject unhappiness down on someone else’s head.

  Tears rolled silently down Morgan’s cheeks and his gut clenched. Despite his better judgement, he reached over and took her hand in his. It was soft and warm and felt way too good. He squeezed it reassuringly and then set it back down.

  “I’m sorry, Morgan. Please don’t cry. We made the right decision. We were both so young, on the cusp of our lives. Both of us had big plans. A baby would have made our lives so difficult. Not only in ways we considered, but in other ways as well. We weren’t mature enough to be parents… You would have dropped out of college, at least for a while, and you might never have gone back. I would have struggled to support us on my meagre probationary constable’s wage. There would never have been enough money and that would have led to fights and besides, we barely knew each other. We’d been dating a total of four weeks.”

  He shook his head, trying hard to make her see. “You got pregnant the very first night we met and that wasn’t anyone’s fault. How could we have known the condom had a hole in it? But the fact was, when you found out you were pregnant a few weeks later, it scared the hell out of me…and you. We made the decision to terminate together,” he added quietly. “It was the best thing for both of us at the time. I don’t regret it and neither should you.”

  “But now I’m thirty!” she cried and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m not married, I don’t have any children and there isn’t the likelihood of either in my near future. What if that baby was my only chance to be a mother? What if God’s punishing me for having the abortion? For putting my wants and needs above the baby’s?”

  A fresh wave of sobs took hold of her and he couldn’t bear to sit by helplessly a moment longer. Pushing back his chair, he stood and tugged her slowly upright. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. She fit right under his chin, as neat as could be.

  Her arms came around his waist and she rested her head against his chest. She cried softly and her torment clutched at his heart. He wanted to stay distant and removed, but the feel of her in his arms, distressed and sad beyond measure, did him in.

  Tightening his arms about her, he bent his head and pressed a kiss against the softness of her hair. It was loose around her shoulders and hung in waves around her face. She lifted her head and stared at him, her eyes dark and watery with distress. Without thinking, he kissed her tenderly on the mouth.

  He tasted wine on her lips. The familiar scent of her perfume, spicy and delicious, tantalized him. When her lips moved tentatively beneath his, he groaned under his breath, bombarded with memories.

  In an instant, the past ten years were swept away. He burned with need, desperate to kiss her again, but he held himself back. She felt so good in his arms, but this wasn’t what he was about. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. He didn’t do commitment. It wasn’t fair to let her think anything different.

  The thought sobered him. Releasing his hold on her, he put some distance between them. She stared at him, breathing fast, looking dazed and confused. Flooded with guilt, he lowered his gaze and turned away.

  “I-I’m sorry, Morgan. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Twin spots of color reddened her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed. Despite her anger, when she spoke, her voice was surprisingly calm.

  “Why are you apologizing? I participated as willingly as you.”

  He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. Shit, this was not going to end well.

  “Thank you; that’s kind of you, but I still shouldn’t have done it. What we had was over with years ago. I didn’t mean to give you the idea that we… That is, I’m not in the market for a wife, or anything else. I don’t do commitment.”

  He held up his hands and pointed at his naked ring finger and shook his head, feeling helpless. Nothing he said was going to improve things. He ought to shut his mouth and get the hell out of there while he still could. Taking a step in the direction of the hallway that led to the bedrooms, he was pulled up short by the sternness in Morgan’s voice.

  “Stop right there, Colt Barrington!”

  Slowly, he turned to face her, bracing himself for what was surely to come. And whatever it was, he deserved it.

  “You kissed me and I kissed you back. Just because we got a little excited, doesn’t mean I expect you to get down on one knee. Sure, I want to get married and have a family, but I’m not singling you out for the job. As you said, what we had is over. There’s no going back.”

  Colt stared at her. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel a little disgruntled by the defiance in her tone. He expected her to be way more upset. He could have sworn he felt passion in her kiss. Had it all been a purely physical reaction to the situation they’d been in? She’d been upset, he’d offered her comfort, and they’d kissed. Is that all it was? Apparently so.

  A surge of relief went through him. It was a kiss and now it was over. They could go back to being friends.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dear Diary,

  Well, what’s done is done and there’s no going back. All I can hope is that the emails have done the trick. The girl is way too smart for my liking and then there’s the cop. I’ll have to keep my wits about me if I’m to keep them off the scent.

  The best thing is, she’s an only child. Rex told me before he departed. So it’s really only Morgan O’Brien I need to convince. If I manage to do that, everything else will fall into place. She’ll return to her home in the city and no one will be any the wiser. I can go on as planned. Life doesn’t get any sweeter.

  * * *

  Morgan stared at Colt and did her best not to let her hurt and disappointment show. She hadn’t consciously agreed to stay at his condo with the intention of picking up where they’d left off a decade ago, but when he drew her close and kissed her, she couldn’t help the way her heart leaped with hope. Though it embarrassed her to admit it, their unborn baby hadn’t been the only person she’d thought about over the years.

  Was it possible he still had feelings for her? Could they try again to make things work? They were both older and wiser and established in their careers. They weren’t silly young college students who weren’t responsible enough to take c
are of themselves, let alone a baby. Was it possible they could rekindle their love and do things better the second time around?

  The thoughts had swirled around and around in her head in time with the frantic beating of her heart. And then he’d pulled away and apologized for kissing her.

  It took all her courage to plaster a smile on her face and speak to him in a no-nonsense tone. It was a kiss, nothing more. Of course there was nothing between them. What they had was over. They were friends from the past and that’s the way they’d remain. Nothing more, nothing less. And she was fine with that.

  His look of consternation at her casual attitude had given her a tiny zing of satisfaction. She was glad he was put out by the fact she hadn’t broken down in the face of his rejection. And make no mistake, he’d rejected her.

  All his dribble about not looking to settle down and being unwilling to commit was just guy speak for “I don’t love you enough to want to spend my life with you.” Everyone knew that. Besides, she wasn’t in love with him, either. Those feelings had died long ago.

  Now, Morgan pushed her hair away from her face and lifted her gaze to his. “I think I might call it a night. It’s been a long day. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely.” She turned to head in the direction of the hallway.

  “Let me show you to your room,” he offered and walked ahead of her down the corridor.

  The first door they came to was closed and she assumed it was his room. A bathroom and toilet stood on the opposite side of the hallway and a little further down on the same side as his was the spare room. Colt flipped a switch beside the door and the room was flooded with light.

  “I brought your luggage in here earlier and left some clean towels on the bed. There are toiletries in the bathroom, if you need them. I’m sorry, but there’s only one bath. I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

  He flashed her a smile, but she wasn’t in the mood for teasing. What she’d told him was right. It had been a long day. First on the train from Sydney and then the surprising discoveries that she had an uncle and her father had headed for the outback. It was enough to tire anyone out.

  With a murmur of thanks, she closed the door on him and then flopped down on the queen-sized bed. Her gaze drifted around the room. The ceiling was white and nondescript and the walls were equally pale. They might have been a shade of gray, but it was hard to tell in the golden light of the lamp. Floral curtains in reds and oranges provided the only splash of color in the room.

  While the kitchen and living room had been sleek and masculine, the spare bedroom looked more like it had been furnished out of a thrift shop. Still, it was clean and comfortable and apparently the only available room in town.

  Darn the Lamb and Potato Festival! She’d arrived at a very inconvenient time. The festival was the only reason she found herself sharing a house with Colt Barrington. Once upon a time, she would have been beside herself with excitement at the thought of living with Colt – waking up every day in his bed, sharing breakfast, acting like a real, grown-up couple.

  But this arrangement couldn’t be further from the romantic notion she’d dreamed about from the moment she’d set eyes on him. He’d shown her to the guest room, but had no intention of joining her in bed. He’d made it more than clear whatever they’d shared a decade ago was over.

  * * *

  Colt leaned back against the wall beside the closed door that led to his guest room. He was still a little peeved at Morgan’s blithe acceptance that what they’d had would never be again. The way she’d kissed him, clung to him – it had felt like she really cared, like she wanted to be with him, to know him, to be as close as two people could.

  He should be glad she’d made it easy, that they both saw eye to eye. It would be incredibly awkward otherwise. This way, things would be easy. They could go about their business and neither would get in the way. Expectations wouldn’t be raised then doused because there were no expectations to be had.

  Then why did the thought of her disrobing behind the very door he stood beside nearly drive him mad with need? That soft, supple body, naked between the sheets. At least, that’s the way she used to sleep. His body hardened at the memory and he cursed beneath his breath.

  This was ridiculous. She was an ex-girlfriend who needed his help for a day or two. That was it. She’d been quite open about the fact she was in the market for a husband. That she yearned for a child. He ran like hell from commitment. He couldn’t bear the thought of suffering through the collateral damage when things didn’t work out. People changed when they got married and as far as he could see, it wasn’t for the better.

  No, he needed to steer well clear of women like Morgan O’Brien. She wasn’t looking for a fling or a no-strings-attached relationship. She’d just turned thirty and she was playing for keeps. He’d best remember that.

  * * *

  Morgan squinted against the early morning sunshine that filtered through the curtains she’d forgotten to close the night before. Rolling over in bed, she reached for her phone on the nightstand and checked the time. Seven-thirteen. She groaned.

  If she were back in Sydney, she’d already be at work. It was funny how her body refused to get moving when it knew it didn’t have to. There were no guesses as to the reason for her sluggishness. It had been way past late when she’d finally stopped tossing and turning over the complications that now crowded her life.

  First on the list was her father and his abrupt departure from home. He’d emailed her and assured her he was fine, but a residual feeling of confusion remained. Next, there was the difficulty of facing Colt Barrington on a regular basis. When she’d accepted his offer of a room, she’d expected that it would be for no more than a night. But if his prediction about the availability of the hotel rooms in the city was correct, it would be the better part of a week before she could move out.

  She supposed she could always stay at her father’s place, but something about that idea held her back. Her uncle was a stranger. It didn’t feel right cohabiting with him – at least, not without her dad.

  She wondered which room Leslie had taken. It was only a two-bedroom house. He must be in her room. So, if she did move in, she’d be staying in her father’s room. The very thought was too weird to contemplate. She’d never spent a night in her father’s bed, even when her mom had died and they’d both been devastated with grief.

  Besides, she hoped her dad would return now that he knew that she was here. She’d email him again in a bit and tell him she was only in town for two weeks. If anything would get him to turn around and head for home, it was that. A knock on her door startled her and she pulled the sheets up to her neck before responding.

  “Come in.”

  Colt appeared in the doorway. His dark hair was wet from the shower and he was freshly shaved. Dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, white business shirt and a red-and-gray striped tie, he looked every bit the smart professional. He tossed her an annoyingly cute smile.

  “I have to be at work in fifteen minutes. If you want a ride downtown, you’d better hurry it up.” And with that, he disappeared from view.

  Morgan sighed and pushed back the bedclothes. The heat from the early morning sun could already be felt in the room. It promised to be another warm, summer day. Collecting her clothes and the towels Colt had given her the night before, she hurried to the shower.

  The trip downtown was uneventful. Colt pulled up beside a coffee shop. “You can get breakfast here and they serve great coffee.”

  She murmured her thanks, collected her handbag from the floor and opened the door.

  “I finish at six. We could go down to the Pink Pub for dinner, if you like.” He threw her a quick grin. “I don’t want to go overdoing it with the home-cooked meals.”

  She smiled reluctantly. “Sure. My treat. I owe you dinner, anyway.”

  He acknowledged her comment with a nod and another grin. “I guess I’ll see you later. Have a good day.”

  She climbed out of the car and was about to
walk away when he called out to her again.

  “Give me your cell number, in case I need to reach you. If something unexpected crops up at work, I might be delayed. I’d hate for you to be sitting around worrying about me.”

  He gave her a wink and this time she laughed. Whatever the future held for them, she couldn’t deny he had a sense of humor and knew how to keep her amused. She rattled off her number and he gave her his. With a final jaunty salute, he left.

  Her spirits lifted from the doldrums she’d sunk into the evening before and she walked to the coffee shop with renewed vigor. All of a sudden, she was starving. Taking a seat at one of the empty tables that stood on the pavement outside, she ordered a full breakfast and a cup of black coffee.

  She wondered vaguely about what Colt had eaten for breakfast. There hadn’t been any dirty dishes in the sink. Either he’d cleaned up after himself, or he’d skipped it altogether. Perhaps he planned to stop somewhere on his way to work?

  With an impatient snort, she forced her thoughts away from the man who had already consumed far too much of her time. She picked up one of the Sydney papers stacked neatly on a bookshelf near the door and spread it open. Immersing herself in national and international affairs was one way to get him off her mind.

  The lead story dealt with a bushfire that was burning out of control in north eastern Victoria. It had been an unusually hot and dry summer in many parts of Australia and Victoria seemed to suffer severe bushfires more than most. It had been seven years since the fires that had caused Australia’s highest ever loss of life from a bushfire. One hundred-and-seventy-three people had died and more than a hundred more were hospitalized, suffering from bad burns.

  Those fires destroyed at least two thousand homes and damaged thousands more. Many towns northeast of the state capital of Melbourne were badly damaged or almost completely destroyed. The fires were still burning more than two weeks after they started.

  She sighed. Black Saturday, as it became known, was a sad day for Victoria and for all the people of Australia. Morgan hated to think it could happen again.