Secrets, Lies & Lullabies
Page 8
“That was yesterday,” she told him. “Today, I’m perfectly capable of watching out for my own child. I don’t need a nanny,” she stressed again.
She expected an argument. Worse, she expected him to toss more “unfit mother” accusations at her. Instead, he shrugged one shoulder encased in the fine silk-wool blend of a tailored dark blue suit.
“Humor me,” he said in a tone that could only be described as wholly polite. “This is all rather new to me, and I’d feel better having a trained professional on hand for those times when you or I can’t be with Henry.”
Again the thought crossed her mind that she probably wouldn’t be staying with him for long. Certainly not long enough to hire extra staff.
But what she asked him was, “Why wouldn’t I be with him?” Her back was still stiff as a rod, her voice carrying more than a hint of wariness.
“We have a lot of ground to cover. You may need a nap after the grilling I plan to give you.”
Her eyes widened at that, and suspicion gave way to fear.
“You missed breakfast,” he added, jumping so easily from one topic to another that her head started to spin. “But I’m sure Mrs. Sheppard can see that you’re fed.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I don’t want to be a both—”
Alex took her elbow, forcibly turning her toward the other end of the house and leading her in that direction.
“Feed the baby,” he told her. “Then get yourself something to eat. After that, we’ll talk.”
He said “we’ll talk,” but what Jessica heard was, “Let the inquisition begin.”
Nine
Alex thought he deserved a damn Academy Award for his performance so far. Every second that he’d been with Jessica, he’d wanted to shake her. Every word that he’d spoken in calm, even tones, he’d wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. It had taken every ounce of control he possessed to hold a normal, mundane conversation with her rather than demand answers. Right there, right now, regardless of how many witnesses might hear.
But he’d bitten his tongue, fisted his hands so tightly he’d nearly drawn blood. Reminded himself that in most situations, one got further by keeping a cool, level head than losing one’s temper and raging like a maniac.
As hard as it was to resist turning the full force of his fury on her, he told himself that would only frighten her and possibly cause her to run off again. This time taking his son with her.
Oh, there were going to be DNA tests to prove—or disprove—that claim. In addition to the nannies who would be dropping by on and off over the next several days, he had a doctor scheduled to stop in and conduct a paternity test as quickly as possible.
But until he knew for sure, he was going on the assumption that he was the child’s father. Better safe than sorry, and if he was, he wanted to get a jump on being a dad.
He’d already missed… He didn’t know how long. He did know, though, that he’d missed the entire pregnancy, the birth and any number of firsts. First feeding, first diaper change, first time being awakened in the middle of the night and rocking Henry back to sleep.
Alex clenched his teeth until they ached. One more thing to hold against Jessica. The list was getting pretty long.
Biding his time, he led her downstairs to the kitchen and asked Mrs. Sheppard to see to it that Jessica and the baby were both taken care of. Then he’d returned to the foyer to oversee the rest of the baby preparations.
He’d waited thirty minutes. Thirty-two to be exact, before returning to the kitchen, ready to get some answers to the questions burning a hole in his gut.
Walking into the room, he stopped short, taken aback by the sight before him.
Jessica sat at the table of the eat-in nook near the windows, a half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. She alternated between taking a bite of her own meal and slipping a spoonful of goopy gray cereal into the baby’s mouth. He was perched on her thigh, nestled and in the crook of her arm.
“Why isn’t he in the high chair?” Alex asked, his voice reverberating through the room more loudly than he’d intended, startling both Jessica and Henry. He’d ordered the expensive piece of infant furniture, though, so his son should darn well be using it.
Dipping the tiny spoon back into the baby goop, she said, “He’s only three months old. He’s not quite ready to sit up on his own yet.”
Well, there was one question answered. Henry was three months old. The math worked.
He also made a mental note to buy some baby books. He didn’t want to learn from Jessica or anyone else what his child could or couldn’t do, or what he needed.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable and slightly self-conscious, he cleared his throat. “When you’re finished, come to my office. It’s time to get down to business.”
* * *
As she crossed the front of the house toward Alex’s den, Jessica felt for all the world as if she’d been called to the principal’s office. Her feet were lead weights and her heart was even heavier. Henry at her hip, in comparison, was light as a feather.
He was also happy today. She shouldn’t have been quite so delighted about it, but from the moment she’d arrived last night and plucked him from Alex’s arms, Henry had been relaxed and content. Something to be said for her mothering skills, she hoped, as well as their strong mommy/baby bond.
On the heels of that thought, though, came a wave of guilt. She’d had nine months of pregnancy and the three months since Henry was born to bond with him, while Alex had had only yesterday. And that hardly counted, since she’d sprung the baby on him with no warning and hadn’t even stuck around to explain.
Which was why she was letting him get away with the strong-arm tactics. He was angry—with good reason. And she was guilty—for bad reasons.
The door was open when she arrived. Alex was seated behind his desk, another man—older and balding—sat in one of the guest armchairs with his back to her.
Alex spotted her almost the moment she stepped inside and stood to greet her.
“Come in,” he said, rounding the desk as the other man also got to his feet.
“This is Dr. Crandall,” he introduced them, closing the door behind her with a soft click. “Dr. Crandall, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”
To Jessica, he added, “Dr. Crandall is here for the paternity test.”
Having her integrity called into question stung, but in Alex’s shoes she would have insisted on the very same thing. So she extended her arm and shook the doctor’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Doctor.”
“You, too, my dear,” he said, smiling gently. “And I don’t want you to worry about a thing. This is a relatively painless procedure. Just a quick cheek swab, and I should have the results back from the lab by the middle of next week.”
“I appreciate that, thank you.”
The idea of having Henry’s blood drawn hadn’t appealed. He’d survived worse, of course, but that still didn’t make it a fun prospect.
“Dr. Crandall assures me that the cheek swab tests are just as accurate as blood tests,” Alex put in. “The only reason we’d have to have blood drawn later is if the initial tests come back as inconclusive or problematic.”
Jessica nodded. “Whatever you need.”
Ten minutes later, Alex was walking the doctor to the door, DNA samples labeled and tucked safely into his medical bag. She stood in the doorway of Alex’s office, watching as he shook the physician’s hand, then ducking back inside before Alex returned.
When he arrived, she was sitting in one of the leather guest chairs, bouncing a giggling Henry on one knee.
Alex stood for a moment, simply watching them. The woman who’d seared some of the most passionate memories of his life into his brain, and the child they’d most likely made together.
His chest contracted. Without a doubt, he was furious. She’d used him, stolen from him, betrayed him and lied to him. Yet part of him wanted to cross the room, drop to one k
nee and wrap his arms around them, holding them close and cherishing them the way a family should be cherished.
He wondered what would have happened if his relationship with Jessica had played out differently. If she hadn’t spent the night with him simply to steal company secrets. If she’d stuck around instead of running off before the sun rose the next morning so they could share breakfast, get to know each other better, perhaps agree to keep seeing one another.
Alex wasn’t a man of fickle emotions, so when he’d awakened that morning after making love with her, looking forward to making love to her again…and possibly again…he’d known he’d found something special. Or thought so, at least. Reality had proven to be quite different.
But deep down, he knew the possibility of a good, old-fashioned romance had existed. They might have dated, shared a short engagement and walked down the aisle before deciding to start a family. Baby Henry would still have been part of the big picture, just a little further down the road.
Fate had a way of turning things upside down, though, then sitting back for a good chuckle at the expense of the humans who had been played with like marionettes.
Which meant he was now faced with fatherhood first and…he didn’t know what else second.
Clearing his throat, he strode across the room, returning to his seat behind the desk. It was awkward to put such cold, professional distance between himself and the mother of his child, but he felt comfortable there, and if it intimidated Jessica at all, kept her on the level, then it was the right position to take.
“I think I’m going to need a quick rundown of events,” he told her, careful to keep his tone level and unaccusatory. “Why did you take off in the middle of the night? And if Henry is my son, why didn’t you contact me when you found out you were pregnant?”
He watched her eyes, saw the pulse in her throat jump as she swallowed.
“It was a one-night stand. I didn’t think you’d want me to still be there in the morning,” she murmured. “And then when I went back the next day to clean your room, you were gone.”
“My business in Portland wrapped up a few days early, and I was needed back here in Seattle. I wanted to ask about you,” he admitted—albeit against his better judgment, “or at least leave a note, but was afraid it might get you in trouble.”
He very intentionally didn’t mention the missing Princess Line prospectus. It was a subject that definitely needed to be discussed, but not now. Not until he knew for certain whether or not Henry was his son.
For the time being, the child and his possible unexpected fatherhood trumped everything else.
She nodded somewhat ruefully. “It probably would have gotten me fired.”
Just as he’d suspected. “I called a while later, but whoever I talked to claimed there was no one by the name of Jessica Madison working at Mountain View. And that the only Jessica they’d had on staff had quit the week before.”
He’d considered digging deeper, perhaps hiring a private investigator to track her down. But then he’d realized how that would look: desperate. Especially since he hadn’t yet hired a P.I. to look into the theft. If their one night together hadn’t meant enough to her to make her stick around, then he’d look pretty pathetic chasing after her like a lovelorn pup.
So he’d put her and what he still considered a spectacular intimate experience behind him. Or tried, at any rate. And he’d succeeded at putting her out of his everyday thoughts, if not his late-night, private ones.
“You must have called soon after I discovered I was pregnant,” she said.
His mouth turned down in a frown. “You quit because of that?”
A strange look passed over her features, and it took a second for her to reply.
“I had to. It wouldn’t have been long until I was unable to keep up with the workload, and the chemicals we used to clean wouldn’t have been good for the baby. Besides, the owners of the resort weren’t too fond of unwed mothers being on the payroll. They thought it tarnished the resort’s pristine reputation and would have come up with a reason to let me go before long.”
Alex made a mental note never to stay at Mountain View Lodge again. If anything, single and expectant mothers needed their jobs more than other employees. And considering some of the behavior that often took place at those types of high-scale resorts—adultery topping the list—he didn’t think the owners had a lot of room to point fingers.
Getting back to the subject at hand, he said, “Why didn’t you tell me when you found out? You knew who I was and where to find me.”
It wasn’t always easy to get in touch with him—Rose was an excellent guard dog—but if Jessica had left her name and at least a hint of what she needed to talk to him about, he would have returned her call. Hell, he would have relished the chance to see her again—for more reasons than one.
He didn’t know how he would have handled the news of her unexpected pregnancy. Probably much the same as he was handling the news of Henry’s existence now—with a fair dose of skepticism and trepidation. He liked to think he would have done the right thing, though, once he’d established the veracity of her claim. Much as he was trying to do now.
He was playing it smart, getting medical proof before accepting parental responsibility, but if Henry turned out to be his, he would do more than put a crib in one of the extra guest rooms and make sure his name was on the child’s birth certificate. He would be laying full claim, taking whatever steps were necessary to be sure his son stayed with him. Whether Jessica liked it or not.
* * *
Why didn’t you tell me when you found out you were pregnant?
It was the question Jessica had been dreading ever since she’d made the decision not to tell him.
It had been the wrong decision. Or at the very least, the wrong thing to do. There had been so many factors to consider, though, and she’d been so very frightened and alone.
To Alex, however, she said simply, “I didn’t think you’d want to know. Most men wouldn’t.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she got the distinct impression he was grinding his molars together to keep from doing—or saying—something violent.
“I’m not most men,” he said slowly and very deliberately, almost as though each word was a statement unto itself. “I would have stepped up to the plate. And I most certainly would have wanted to know I’d fathered a child.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jessica didn’t know what else to say, not without saying far too much. He was angry enough with her already; she didn’t think telling him she was a Taylor and that she’d been poking around his hotel room looking for company secrets would do much to improve his mood.
So she kept her mouth shut, knowing he would find out eventually but hoping he would hate her a little less by then.
Ignoring her apology, both physically and verbally, he went on. “If you didn’t want me to know about Henry, why did you dump him at my office yesterday?”
She flinched at his less-than-flattering description of her actions, even though that’s exactly what she’d done—in his eyes and in her own.
“I didn’t feel I had a choice,” she told him quietly. “It’s been rough being out of work and trying to care for a baby all by myself. I can’t find a job until I put Henry in day care, and I can’t afford day care until I get a job.”
“Don’t you have family to turn to? Parents? Relatives who could help you out?”
The short answer was no. The long answer would mean admitting she was a Taylor, and that rather than telling her family she was pregnant by Alexander Bajoran, she’d chosen to run away. Disappear and live one step up from on the streets.
She’d thought so many times about going home and telling her parents everything. But she hadn’t wanted to see the disappointment on their faces when they found out who the father of her baby was. Even if she refused to tell them, she was afraid her mother would eventually wear her down and drag the truth out of her.
And if she’
d managed to hold out against her mother’s badgering, she’d been very much afraid her cousin would come along later and figure it out.
Because Erin knew what she’d been up to in Alex’s room at the resort. And she knew that Jessica hadn’t been dating anyone around that time. She’d have done the math in her head, become suspicious and started badgering Jessica until she confessed everything. Then Erin would tell Jessica’s folks for sure, damn her meddling hide. Her cousin was the impetus behind all of this, yet Jessica was the one to suffer the consequences.
To Alex she said carefully, “No one who could help me out, no.”
He considered that for a moment, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. “You should have come to me sooner. Come to me,” he emphasized. “In person rather than sneaking around like a cat burglar.”
“At least I left something instead of stealing something,” she quipped in an attempt at levity.
“I’m not sure the authorities would see it that way,” he replied with a withering glance that immediately wiped the lopsided smile from her face.
Before the adrenaline from his veiled threat made it into her bloodstream, however, he added, “You were actually pretty good at getting in and out of the building without being seen. How did you manage that?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
If luck included practically growing up there while her family was still part of the business, and knowing not only where all the security cameras and blind spots were, but also how the building’s security functioned. Or how it had functioned, anyway. She’d taken a chance and hoped not much had changed in the past few years.
Alex’s eyes narrowed, and she could see the questions swirling there, knew the interrogation wasn’t even close to being over. And while he’d certainly earned the right to some answers, she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to get away with partial ones and half-truths.
Then as though heaven actually heard her silent pleas, she was saved by the bell. Literally.
From the front of the house the doorbell rang. They heard footsteps, followed by muted voices, and then more footsteps. A minute later there was a soft knock at the office door.