Secret Son, Convenient Wife

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Secret Son, Convenient Wife Page 9

by Maxine Sullivan


  “What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon?” he asked, as if reading her thoughts.

  “I’m not sure.” She could easily have taken a nap, but hopefully she’d get her second wind soon. She hadn’t had time for naps when she’d been working, she reminded herself. “I might take Nathan for a walk to the local shops.”

  Tate frowned. “What do you need? Clive can get it for you. Just ask.”

  She lifted a shoulder and then let it drop. “I don’t need anything really. It’s merely something to do to help Nathan chew up some energy.”

  His lips twisted. “I see. You’re sick of all this already, are you?”

  “No.” Why did he turn her words around? “I merely thought Nathan might like some fresh air, that’s all. It’s no different from me taking him down to the lake.” She could have bit her tongue off when Tate’s jaw clenched tight.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “I see. You think I’ll leave Nathan sitting in his stroller while some store owner has his way with me out back, do you?”

  Tate cursed low. “I’m coming with you and that’s that. We’ll go through a side entrance in case any reporters are out front. Put sun hats on you both. And wear your sunglasses.”

  He was serious about coming with them. “All that for a short walk?”

  “A short walk could turn into a nightmare if the reporters discover us.”

  Thoughts of cameras being pushed in Nathan’s face turned her cold. “On second thought, it’s probably best not to go.”

  “We’re not prisoners, Gemma. We’ll go out and get our son an ice cream if we want. No one is going to stop us.”

  Understanding dawned. She had to admit, when she thought about it some more, she felt the same. This was Australia, for heaven’s sake. Surely they were entitled to some space to themselves? Still, she’d feel better with Tate there to protect them.

  After that, considering everything between them, it was quite an enjoyable walk in the sunshine. Tate hadn’t worn a hat, but he seemed to relax more with each step, and so did she. They even stopped at a local park next to the small strip of shops so she could feed Nathan some ice cream.

  It was Saturday, so there were quite a few people in the park. A couple of children playing with a small puppy caught Nathan’s attention, and he started to laugh at their antics. The children, a girl and a boy around seven or eight, heard him and brought the puppy over. Before they knew it, the puppy was licking drops of ice cream off Nathan’s T-shirt.

  Gemma actually felt happy—seriously happy—as Tate asked about the children’s names and the age of the puppy. He was really good with the kids.

  A nice-looking man strolled toward them from the direction of the shops, carrying a loaf of bread. “I hope they aren’t bothering you,” he said, smiling as he approached.

  Tate smiled back. “Not at all. They’ve been keeping us quite entertained.”

  The man blinked, and Gemma knew he’d recognized Tate. So much for their sunglasses and her sun hat!

  “If you want to wear your kids out, just get them a puppy,” the man joked.

  “I plan on it, when my son’s a little older.” Tate proudly glanced at Nathan.

  A short time later, the other family left and Gemma couldn’t help saying something. “Did you mean it about getting Nathan a dog?”

  “Sure, why not?” Tate lifted a brow. “You don’t want him to have one?”

  “No, I think it’s a great idea.” She shrugged. “It’s just such a…family thing to do.”

  An odd expression flickered across his face. “We are a family now,” he said, as he turned away to push the stroller.

  Her vision blurred and she was thankful for her sunglasses. She didn’t want to acknowledge how much his words meant to her, but his comment warmed her all the way home.

  On their return, Gemma carried Nathan into the informal living room while Tate put the stroller away. She vaguely heard Peggy’s voice, but she didn’t take much notice as she placed Nathan down on the carpet and let him crawl around the now-childproof room.

  About ten minutes later Tate came through the doorway, sheets of paper in his hands, his face tight. He held them out toward her. “Someone’s just posted these on the internet,” he said, keeping his voice low. All his earlier softness had disappeared.

  She frowned as she read what was in her hands, then gasped, her eyes widening. On one page was a photograph of her old apartment minus the furniture. The place looked like it needed a coat of paint and seemed a little shabby. On another was a picture of Tate’s house, with its magnificent gardens and luxury cars parked in the sweeping driveway. Farther, on the next page, someone had put the two together with the caption, “From This to This in Two Weeks,” then there were some derogatory remarks, not about Tate but about her becoming pregnant on purpose so she could marry into money.

  She lifted her head in bewilderment, trying to get her head around it all. “This is on the internet?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why?” She swallowed hard, her mind whirring. “How did you even know these were there?”

  “One of Bree’s friends rang to tell her about it, so naturally my sister rang here. She left a message with Peggy.” Something brutal entered his eyes. “I printed them up to show you. I’ll get my lawyer to investigate the website.”

  The thought of this being all over the internet turned her stomach. “Investigate?”

  “I’ll find out who’s done this. They’ll pay.”

  She took a shuddering breath. “God, I feel violated.” Not only was her reputation being ripped to shreds in a public forum, but the place—the home—she’d tried to make for her and Nathan had been held up for everyone to see—and judge.

  She felt tears mist her eyes. Could her day—her life— get any worse? She was so emotionally drained. As one of the Chandlers now, did she have it in her to take this over all the years ahead?

  “Gemma?”

  She turned her back on him and blinked rapidly, seeing her son playing on the carpet with his toys but more aware of Tate. She didn’t want this man to see her crying. It would be the last straw for her. She had to remain strong, or fall in a heap.

  “Gemma?” he said, more softly this time.

  She remembered something. She spun back. “The humanitarian award! This might ruin it.” A sob escaped her lips. “Oh, God, I seem to be wrecking your family’s chances everywhere I turn.”

  “Screw the award.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “I said screw the award. This attack on you is more important. I won’t have your character denigrated in such a personal way like this. You’re my wife now, and as such you should have respect.” His head at a proud angle, he took the papers out of her hand and strode to the door, purpose in every tense line of his shoulders, his intention obvious.

  Don’t mess with his family.

  Okay, so it wasn’t about her exactly. It was more about her position and probably more for Nathan’s sake than not. But that didn’t change something quite remarkable: Tate wasn’t blaming her for this.

  And that had to be a first.

  The rest of the day went by quietly and Gemma wasn’t unhappy about that. Except for dinner and time spent with his son, Tate stayed in his study, no doubt checking into this latest mess.

  He didn’t mention anything more about it the next morning when she went down to breakfast, so Gemma didn’t either. Perhaps if he played with Nathan after breakfast, she might go into his study to check online. But, she decided, that would only upset her. Best to let Tate handle it. He had the means and the connections to get to the bottom of it fast.

  Then over breakfast he said, “I’ve given Peggy and Clive the rest of the day off so they can visit their grandchildren.” He paused. “And my parents have invited us to lunch.”

  Gemma groaned inwardly. The one place she didn’t want to be today was with hi
s family. His mother was nice, but the rest of them hadn’t forgiven her for keeping Nathan from his birthright. Now they would have something more to castigate her about.

  “They usually eat a late lunch,” he continued, “so we won’t have to leave until around one. That will give Nathan time for his morning nap.”

  “Er…did you tell them about the photos?”

  “I didn’t have to. Bree already told them.”

  “How kind.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “My sister was only trying to look after them.”

  Gemma understood that, but it was at her expense. “And?”

  “They want to get to the bottom of it as much as we do.”

  She noticed he didn’t say anything about them not blaming her for bringing more ill-repute on their family name.

  “Let it go for now, Gemma. There’s nothing we can do at the moment. I’ve got someone working on it, and we’ll find the culprit as fast as we can.”

  He was right. She tried to relax. “At least they weren’t nude photographs,” she quipped, then froze. What on earth had made her say that?

  “Should we be worried about that?” he demanded.

  “Of course not!” She’d never been promiscuous with her favors. Except with him. But she refused to look away. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Not with him, not with anyone.

  They glared eye-to-eye, then something lifted in his gaze and she could see he believed her. Before she could shake off the moment, she realized he was mentally undressing her, just like he used to…right down to her bare skin…sending her stomach into a flutter. Then he noticed her noticing, and he looked away, breaking the connection.

  Thankfully Peggy came in then, but it took a while before Gemma’s pulse settled to its normal pace. After breakfast, she took the opportunity to escape, carrying Nathan upstairs to pick out an outfit for him to wear to lunch while Tate answered a call on his cell phone.

  The morning passed surprisingly quickly. She brought Nathan back downstairs, but Tate’s study door was firmly closed. She kept busy, playing with Nathan on the carpet.

  Then her eye caught sight of a local newspaper. She jumped to her feet, panic spurting through her veins. Could the story have reached the newspapers? She left Nathan to play close by with his toys while she sat on the sofa and combed the pages, shuddering with relief when she didn’t find anything. Even so, how long could that last?

  Shrugging aside a growing sense of despondency over it all, Gemma eventually took Nathan back upstairs for a mid-morning nap. He cried a little in resistance, but if he was going to be awake all afternoon then he needed some sleep first. A couple of minutes later he was out like a light.

  She’d just put on a dress and was finishing her makeup in preparation for the luncheon, when Tate knocked on her door. He always knocked before entering now, except that time the newspapers had called his father and broke the news about Nathan. Tate had been angry enough to walk right in then.

  “Your parents are here,” he said without preamble.

  The closed tube of lipstick slipped from her fingers and onto the vanity. “My pa-parents?”

  His gaze sharpened. “The guard rang from the front gate. I knew who they were as soon as I saw them on the security camera. You once showed me a photograph, remember?”

  “Oh, my God,” she muttered, her mind agog. Her parents were here? They were back from their Mediterranean cruise? They wanted to see her?

  “I told them to wait.”

  She blinked. “You did?”

  “I didn’t know if you wanted to see them or not.” He left a longish pause. “Do you?”

  Did she?

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted, then realized he’d seen more than she knew when a frown creased his forehead.

  “Do I let them in, Gemma? You have to make a decision. I can tell them to go away or—”

  She couldn’t bear that. “No, let them in.”

  He stared a moment more as if judging her sincerity, then, satisfied, he walked over to the bedside table and used the telephone to talk to the security guard.

  Gemma stood there, still reeling from the news. This didn’t seem real. She’d wanted their support for so long…yearned for them to ask to see her and Nathan. She could admit that to herself now.

  He hung up the phone. “Right, they’re on the way.”

  The words somehow pulled her together, reminding her that this was her problem, not Tate’s. It was best she handle it herself. And she had to admit she was a little ashamed for him to know what had happened with her parents. Was loving a daughter through thick and thin so very difficult?

  She veiled her expression. “Thank you, Tate. I’d like to see them alone.”

  “No.”

  “Tate—”

  “What’s going on with you and them anyway? I know there’s something wrong, so don’t tell me there isn’t.”

  “I’ll tell you later. There’s no time right now.”

  “There’s time enough to give me the gist of it.”

  She deliberately hadn’t told him what had transpired, not wanting him to tap into her emotions and use her pain against her. Now she knew that was one thing he wouldn’t do, at least where her parents were concerned. He valued family too much. And while she didn’t want his sympathy, she wanted him on her side. She needed his support right now, if only for this short time.

  She took a shuddering breath, the words harder to say than she’d expected. “If you really want to know, they kicked me out when I told them I was pregnant.”

  Rage erupted in his eyes. “What the hell! God, what type of parents do that sort of thing?”

  She wasn’t totally sure if the rage was for her or for his son. “They couldn’t handle the shame of their daughter being pregnant and unmarried.” She tried to sound uncaring, but it still hurt deeply that her mother and father had turned their backs on her when she’d needed them most.

  And on their grandson.

  Tate’s jaw flexed. “Shame on them.”

  Something softened inside her. “Thank you,” she whispered, then drew her shoulders back. It was time to move.

  “Gemma, look, I’d fully understand if you don’t want to see them.”

  She appreciated the turnabout. “No, it’s best this way.” Otherwise she’d always wonder why they’d come. Besides, she needed to think about Nathan. If there was a chance they wanted their grandson in their lives, she couldn’t deny him that opportunity. Anyway, once they saw Nathan they would fall in love with him. She was certain of that.

  For all her self-assurance, when she and Tate reached the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated. She saw their shadows through the glass door and was unable to bring herself to open it. Reminiscent of their wedding day, when they’d had to face the reporters outside, Tate gave her shoulder a squeeze. Then he moved forward.

  She quickly grasped his arm. “They’re really not so bad, Tate.” She didn’t want him to think it was all their fault. For good or bad, she had made some unwise choices.

  He nodded but his face closed up. And then he opened the door. Gemma stood where she was as he introduced himself and invited her parents inside. They saw her and hesitated before stepping into the foyer. Her heart staggered beneath her breast. Was it too much to hope that they might have rushed forward and taken her in their arms?

  On second thought, perhaps they were simply overwhelmed, she told herself, not willing to let the doubt-devils get to her this early. She went to them and kissed them on their cheeks. “Mom. Dad. It’s lovely to see you both.” But she noticed her mother had stiffened at Gemma’s touch.

  “Hello, Gemma,” Meryl Watkins said without a hint of warmth. She’d always spoken like that, Gemma reminded herself.

  Her father’s expression faltered before he cleared his throat. Frank Watkins had always given in to her mother, even if Gemma sensed he didn’t always agree with her. “Yes, hello, Gemma.”

  There was an awkward silence. It was like they were str
angers. She waited for them to ask about Nathan, then was disappointed when they simply stood there.

  “Let’s go to the drawing room,” Tate suggested.

  “Yes, good idea.” Gemma tried hard to relax. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

  “No, thank you, Gemma.” Her mother walked through the arched doorway, looking critically around the room before sitting down on the sofa without being asked. “This is certainly very nice, don’t you think, Frank?”

  Her father nodded as he placed himself beside her mother. “You’ve done well for yourself, Gemma.”

  Gemma ignored the tightening of Tate’s mouth as she moved to sit opposite them. “I hear you’ve been on a Mediterranean cruise.”

  Her father’s bushy eyebrows knitted together. “How did you know that?”

  “When no one answered the phone at home, I phoned your work. I wanted to invite you to the wedding.” Hopefully they would see that as a peace offering.

  Frank glanced at his wife. “See, I told you she would have sent an invitation.”

  Gemma wasn’t sure she liked being called “she” in such a fashion. Couldn’t her own father call her by her first name?

  And were they ever going to ask about Nathan?

  “The papers said it was a lovely wedding,” her mother said. “Though Gemma,” her tone turned disapproving now, “I really don’t think you should have worn white.”

  The criticism stung, but Gemma tried to move past the hurt, for Nathan’s sake. “That’s a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it, Mom?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

  “And I raised you to be an old-fashioned girl,” her mother said, then gave a heavy sigh. “Still, at least you’re married now.”

  Disillusionment ripped through Gemma. She was beginning to see that nothing had changed. It had been hard growing up under constant disapproval. It was the reason she had moved out once she’d found herself a decent job. Her parents hadn’t tried to dissuade her, and she’d had the feeling they’d been relieved to get her out of the house. It had been the same when she’d told them she was pregnant. She was too much of a problem for them. They couldn’t cope, so they’d been happy to get her out of their lives.

 

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