Nick's Baby
Page 8
Then suddenly, a gut wrenching feeling slammed him. What if this was the only child he ever fathered? How could he let her go so easily? Maybe he hadn't given this enough thought? At least he hadn't signed any papers. There was still time. He could still claim his child.
Sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned several times but couldn't sleep. It didn't matter if he cashed the check or not. He was still creating a child, his child, and leaving it. Was he truly no better than his own father? He sat up straight in bed, a light sweat trickling his forehead. The realization that he would never be there for the child hit him square in the face again. He had abandoned his own child. Just like that. How could he have been so blinded? Money would buy the kid security. What would the child think in years to come, though— that he'd abandoned her? God, he'd been so stupid. There is no security when you think you are unwanted, he knew that through Tony.
Worse still, the pictures of Kelsey danced in his mind, and not just her image, but thoughts of what he'd like to do with her slender body.
Okay, she wasn't a beauty, but something about the lady definitely attracted him. He didn't understand it.
Granted, she had beautiful eyes. But judging from her clothes she was too thin, and way too uptight about everything. Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her. Perhaps his mother had been right. Kelsey had a different kind of beauty, if one looked deep enough, a beauty of the soul.
Realizing he had no chance of sleeping, he smoked a cigarette. He let the smoke billow above his head and watched it shape itself. Cigarettes were a luxury Nick seldom allowed, but they usually smoothed out the day for him—except tonight. With the air so thick and the sweltering heat the cigarette wasn't working. He squashed it in the ashtray, watching the flames slowly fade away.
Upon impulse, he whipped out his wallet from his jeans lying on the floor. Kelsey's insistence that he look at the check had him curious. He dug it out, carefully unfolding it for the first time. He had plans for the check. He'd frame it, and hang it on the wall of the garage, so that every time he glanced at it, he'd think of the baby, his baby. Oh God, his baby, and the one he was giving away.
No, he sighed heavily, it would never be his. It was Kelsey's baby. Could he live with that? He didn't like the way his mind was racing, but he couldn't channel it. He should have quizzed Kelsey more about her reasons for wanting the baby. He had signed the contract at the lab, damn!
Did she have any prior experience with babies? Would she be a good mother? Why did she see this need to have a child in this particular fashion?
His eyes fell like a rock on the check, but in the dim moonlight he couldn't quite make it out. At least he thought he couldn't. He went to the window and put the check up to the moonlight. He blinked heavily for a few seconds trying to adjust to the light. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him. But no, it wasn't a mistake. It was real! Oh God! He physically banged his flat palm against his forehead.
Who in their right mind would pay such a sum for a baby? The figures on the check stared at him. This made no sense.
"No, she can't do this to me!" he yelled out, then clamped his mouth tight. The anger building in him until he could no longer contain himself, an exploded, "I won't let her do this! What does she think this is some kind of black market? This is all so damn wrong." He punched his pillow.
His voice woke Tony, and he ambled into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning, "Something wrong, Nick?"
"Nah." Nick shook his head, pushing the check behind his pillow, and smiling at his brother. "Everything is okay, go on back to bed."
"Okay, I guess something woke me. They turned the electric off. But we got the candles out. See ya in the morning. Hey, stop worrin' so much about Tina. She got in real early."
"What? Do you mean she's still datin' Joe?" Nick ran his hands through his thick hair, trying to clear his mind, and unable to accomplish his task. More problems to deal with, would life ever smooth out?
"They went to the movies a couple of times. He's been extra nice since you talked to him."
"Great. You better get some sleep; you got school in the morning."
"Night, Nick."
"Night Tony," Nick smiled at his brother and sat on the edge of his bed, glaring at the check from time to time. If the check could talk, it would temp and tease him to put himself and his family out of their misery. This one little bit of paper could get his family out of Hell's Kitchen, and into Queens. It would stop the war with the skyscrapers for him and his family. He never was one to give up quickly. Just like his neighbors he wanted to fight this and win.
Besides, how could he live with himself if he took the money? And could he live with the consequences if he didn't?
Kelsey told him she would pay well for his services, but he never guessed how well. They hadn't talked price. Nick refused to consider the issue. His intention hadn't been to take her money.
If he took it, his problems were over—right? Wrong! He couldn't live with himself, and damn her all to hell for subjecting him to such a temptation. It was bad enough fighting the landlord, the utilities, and the skin shops, now he battled a temptation.
With great purpose he jerked on his jeans, threw on a pale green shirt, and scrambled out of the apartment in the heat of the night, careful not to wake anyone else.
He had to rid himself of temptation, and end this problem now. At least this was one war he knew he could win.
His little Mazda wheeled through the streets with the power of a tiger, like his temper, short fused. A gentle rain blanketed the windshield. Switching on the wipers he grimaced at the drumming sound.
Her apartment wasn't that far away, in what she called a modest mid-income neighborhood that had shocked Nick when he first saw it. He expected a more glamorous setting from her.
But whatever Kelsey was, she wasn't pretentious.
Pulling into her parking lot, he cut the engine and gripped the steering wheel for a long moment. It had taken forty-five minutes to get here, and his fury hadn't abated. He knew he should calm down, but if he did, he couldn't impress upon her what needed to be made clear.
Miss Moneybags, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes had a real shock coming. He strode to the lobby door, took the stairs, and then banged his fist against the thick hard wood of her apartment building. He banged so loudly that her neighbor opened their door, and dogs began to bark, but he simply didn't care.
A husky sounding voice called through the door. Nick didn't respond, and the door opened slightly. A big, middle-aged woman, with curlers in her hair, and a robe that didn't quite come together, stared at him.
"What do you want?"
"I'm looking for Ms. O'Sullivan," Nick answered, his voice tight with restraint.
"She's not available at this hour. She's—"
"Sleeping?" He finished for her. "Too bad," he muttered brushing past the woman, and striding into the hallway. Glancing about, he ignored the woman's loud objections. Instead, he began opening the doors down the narrow hallway. He found nothing but empty rooms until he came to the end of the hall. The last door was slightly ajar, and he flung it open with his foot.
There, in the dim moonlight he could only see a silhouetted figure on the bed. Storming up to the bed, he ripped the satin covers from the woman slumbering there, and waited.
A sleeping Kelsey searched numbly for the covers as the vent from the air conditioner came on. She squirmed slightly, slithering down further into the bed, and burying herself in the satin covers. She moaned softly.
Nick switched the light on and it was like turning on the light to Kelsey's soul. The room illuminated. A quick glance about revealed pictures on her dresser, a corner nook crammed with childhood mementos, books and jewelry scattered everywhere. The misplaced earring lay on Kelsey's nightstand, the offending shoes in front of her room-length closet.
Kelsey groaned and flopped onto her stomach, regaining Nick's attention. He took in the hip-length silk T-shirt and long, well-shaped legs with shock. His system went into o
verdrive, his body heated. Suddenly, he forgot his anger. Forgot why he stood menacingly over her. He forgot everything.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his gaze from Kelsey's lush body. He leaned over to shake her lightly. "Wake up, Kelsey. I think it's time we had a talk."
The housekeeper peeped inside the room. "Are you all right, Ms. Kelsey? Should I call the police?"
Kelsey squinted from the glare of the light and pulled the covers over her. Her eyes darted first to Nick, then to the housekeeper. "Y-yes, Dorothy, I'm fine. And there's no need for the police. But I think you better put some coffee on."
Dorothy left grudgingly.
The sweet scent of lilacs tickled Nick's nose. Kelsey's scent. His gaze swept the covers clutched under her chin, to the surprisingly brilliant blue eyes, to the luxurious mass of hair floating about her delicate shoulders and face.
Kelsey ran a quick hand through her thick, wayward hair, batting it from her eyes as golden waves tumbled over her shoulders. She faced Nick squarely, looking at least ten years younger without those ugly glasses.
Nick couldn't believe the sight before him. Could this be Kelsey O'Sullivan? How could this gorgeous body and hair belong to the same woman? And yet even when she appeared plain, he hadn't been able to erase her from his thoughts. He couldn't. Even without knowing how beautiful she was, he had been attracted to Miss Goody-Two-Shoes.
He kicked himself for being taken in. What kind of fool had she played him for? He should have seen past the disguise to the real woman. Even his mother had noticed. Was this his Kelsey?
"Nick, I don't want to be rude, but this is my bedroom. If you'll be gracious enough to wait in the other room, I'll be glad to join you."
"Sorry. I don't feel very gracious right now, Kelsey. I feel tricked, fooled, used. I just got a look at that check. I guess I'm a dope for not getting all the facts."
"Oh, that," she acted as though she'd been expecting some other problem.
"Yeah, that! I think we have some talking to do."
Kelsey relaxed her hold of the blanket and it had slipped down against the tips of her breast. Nick's eyes followed. Her nipples hardened against the satin, as though responding to his glance.
His lower body went rigid, and a cold sweat broke over him. In that instant, he knew he wanted her. And from the way her body was responding to his presence, he guessed she wanted him, too. He wanted to forget his temper, forget his morals, and make mad passionate love to Kelsey.
In bed with Kelsey. It seemed ludicrous, and yet fated. He wanted to bring his mouth against hers, and begin making a baby the right way, with love.
Love? Nah, he hadn't known her long enough for that.
"Give me a moment," she wet her lips nervously, a blush spreading over her face.
Nick tried not to look at those moistly parted lips, but still, he grew warmer. Finally, his legs moved away from the edge of the bed. As he walked toward the door, he cast her a quick frown over his shoulder.
"Why the disguise?"
"Disguise? I don't know what you mean." She started to say, and then seemed to think better of it. "I didn't want you getting any wrong impressions Nick. Besides, this is business, and I dress differently for business."
Business?
A slightly crooked smile invaded Nick's mouth.
"It only makes a man more curious," he responded his voice hoarse.
"I-I'll keep that in mind."
"Yeah, you do that, and get out here. We need to talk."
CHAPTER SIX
Nick sat on the edge of a tufted recliner in the living room, waiting, his anger festering. Restless, he bolted toward the sofa, gave it a once over then plopped himself in the middle.
He eyed the room, taking in the comfortable surroundings. It hosted an off-white leather couch, surrounded by king size recliners. Several plants accentuated by perfectly placed track lights, and a large fifty-five gallon fish tank enhanced the warm, cozy effect of the room. A comfortable room, he acknowledged and immaculate. Too immaculate—too sterile. This room had nothing of Kelsey in it. No character, no feeling. It was a picture perfect room, nothing more.
A large white bearskin rug hugging the bricked-in fireplace caught his eye. Suddenly he visualized holding Kelsey in his arms against that rug. How soft she would be. Her golden hair would fan across the fur and he would take her into his arms . . .
Lord what was he thinking? How had anger turned his emotions upside down? No, anger hadn't done it, Kelsey had.
Beautiful. Kelsey O'Sullivan was beautiful. Exactly what his mother had been trying to tell him, only he hadn't realized it till now. He had come to think of her as attractive, but more on the inside than out. What else was he to think with the prim and proper Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes dressed in linen and thick black glasses?
But—how could he erase the image of her lying in that bed, in a tangle of silk, sensuous blue silk. Yet even as his body stirred, another part of him saw a lonely woman. That part of her he wanted to hold and comfort, and give her the child she so desperately needed.
No! He refused to become involved with Kelsey. The relationship wouldn't last past the giant screen TV and them on the rug. It was pure fantasy and he'd do well to remember that.
The housekeeper, Dorothy, interrupted his train of thoughts, bringing a tray of coffee and cups and offering Nick cream and sugar. Nick declined the cream and sugar, but accepted the coffee gratefully for the distraction. She also brought a small plate of sweet breads and placed them on the big round coffee table, careful not to get too close to Nick. Although Dorothy was polite, she was distant. Before she left the room she gave him a keen appraisal.
"Thanks Dorothy, but you didn't have to go to all the trouble," Nick insisted, casting her a charming smile.
"No trouble. It's my job."
Nick sank into the softness of the sofa, reaching for the coffee, he leaned back. God, he was tired, frustrated, and mad. He was mad, wasn't he? Then why couldn't he get the picture of Kelsey lying in her night shirt, her glorious head of hair going everywhere and a body that would make any man respond, out of his head? Beautiful! Tiny and perfect!
Not that this changed anything. It didn't. It just complicated things. Now he had to deal with his strong attraction towards her and the baby thing.
"I'm sorry, Nick, I'm really not my best this time of night. I'm a morning person and can barely keep awake after nine," Kelsey chattered aimlessly as she pattered into the room with her big blue fuzzy house slippers on. She smoothed the sleeves of her long cotton robe and avoided all eye contact.
Nick didn't like the way his body responded to hers the minute he laid eyes on her again. His jaw quivered, as his hands fisted. He didn't want to be attracted, he wanted to be angry.
"I'm sorry about the hour, Kelsey, but your call made me curious enough to look at that damn check, and that's why I'm here. I couldn't sleep. Not with that payoff staring me in the face."
"Payoff?" she murmured, as she stirred sugar into her coffee. The cup rattled and she stilled it with her other hand. Nick's eyes went to her hands. She smoothed her lips together.
His hands stretched then fisted again, anguishing with pent-up frustration. "Yeah, the little $100,000 payoff."
"Oh that!"
He wasn't buying it.
"I suppose we should have discussed it, in more detail. I got the distinct impression the less we discussed, the better," she added flippantly, still not giving him the benefit of a straight glance.
"Yeah, maybe we should discuss several things, while we're at it." He gritted his teeth, making a grinding noise that had her glancing at him.
Nick was determined to learn the truth, once and for all.
"Such as?"
She leaned back into the sofa, crossing her legs and pulling the robe over them. The sofa swallowed her. She looked tiny and delicate, almost vulnerable, and her eyes filled with an ever present sadness.
"Such as, what is your story, Kelsey? The real story, the one you're not tel
ling. Who are you, Kelsey O'Sullivan? Why are you so desperate for a child, and why this way? All the questions I should have asked before I agreed to this."
She frowned as she sipped the hot coffee, and then shot him a glance. Her blue eyes captured his with a jolt.
"You didn't get the report I sent you?" She yawned again. She was stalling and he knew it. "Sorry."
"Report? Oh, that. Yeah, I got that, but it doesn't say anything about who you really are and what you're really about, now does it?"
She shot him an uncertain glance. "I gave you the same information I required from you."
"I think I took most of that information for granted before I read it. You're from a rich family, used to putting business first. You do things in a strange way, Kelsey. I mean, who in their right mind, would advertise for a sperm donation."
She curled her legs beneath her, as though she knew this would be a lengthy conversation and wanted as much comfort as possible.
"Do I really seem so strange? In what way?"
"Nothing adds up around here. You come on as Plain Jane, while underneath there is a Cinderella waiting to come out. If I didn't know better I'd swear you were playing me for some kind of fool. You even disguise your house, hiding your life in one room, as though it were a secret. And the way you want to have this baby bothers me. Everything about you bothers me."
"So you find me—strange?" Obviously she thought this was funny. Her smile deflated his anger to some extent.
"Yeah, a little."
She chuckled at his remark, her eyes traveling him with lazy appreciation. Her blatant stare sent heat shooting through him. The woman was asking for trouble. A couple of glances like that and he'd have her in that bed of hers, or on the rug, it didn't matter at this point.
"And I find you very refreshing, Nick. I'm sorry if I seem flippant. I'm serious about having your baby, Nick. But I suppose there's an explanation for some of it. I dress rather plainly for the office; I've found that the more businesslike I present myself, the more seriously my associates take me. My apartment, well, that's my mother's interference, I'm afraid. When I moved here she insisted on having the place professionally decorated, and even went so far as to send a housekeeper. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so after a while, I made my bedroom my sanctuary. I sent her housekeeper packing and got my own. Dorothy is a jewel."