by Harper Allen
—felt as if there were no longer two separate beings called Con Ducharme or Marilyn Langworthy at all, but just a single heart beating, a single soul blazing through the dark into new existence.
IT SEEMED an eternity later that she opened her eyes, but as soon as she did the realization slammed into her like a blow. It was no more than the truth. Con and she had become one being. Even now that tiny being was nestled safely in his mother, was wrapped securely in the strong arms of the father who didn’t know he’d created him.
She’d done her child’s father a terrible wrong, Marilyn thought dazedly. And no matter what the outcome, she couldn’t continue to perpetuate that wrong a second longer.
She raised her head. Con’s eyes, brilliantly gold-green and still holding the residual heat of passion, met hers.
“Aw, cher’,” he whispered. “You take my breath away.”
The simple vulnerability of his words pierced her. For a moment she faltered. Then she gathered her courage.
“My baby, Con,” she said in a low rush. “The baby growing inside me. He’s not just mine, he’s—”
Chapter Eleven
A shrill buzzing ripped through the quiet like an alarm, shocking Marilyn into an abrupt silence that left her sentence unfinished. She stared at Con with startled eyes, and saw with disconcertion that the lover of a second ago had been replaced by a coldly alert professional.
“You usually get callers this time of night, heart?” he asked tersely.
“I seldom get callers, period. Unless—” Her brow smoothed. “It has to be Jim and Dan. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve gone out for the evening, each assuming the other has a pass-card to get back into the building.”
The buzzer sounded again, and Con swore under his breath. “DeMarco’s boys wouldn’t announce themselves, but whoever it is, they’ve got lousy timing. No, cher’, I’ll check it out.”
This last was added as she made a move to sit up. Getting to his own feet, unhurriedly he pulled on his pants, zipping the fly just enough that they rode low on his hips. He started to step across the small barrier of candles, and then turned and bent swiftly to her.
“Real lousy timing,” he muttered, planting a brief, hard kiss on her parted lips.
With lazy grace he padded barefoot to the intercom panel by the door. Pushing the button that opened the speak channel, he raked a hand back through his hair.
“Yeah?”
There was silence. He looked over at her and then switched his attention back to the intercom, but before he had a chance to say anything further a woman’s tentative tones crackled over the speaker.
“Marilee? Marilee, are you there?”
Marilyn closed her eyes in disbelief.
Holly had never visited her before. Why had she chosen tonight of all nights to do so? She opened her eyes and looked around her. If the big, half-naked man by the door and her own dishabille wasn’t evidence enough of what had just transpired here, the clothes flung haphazardly over the furniture and the collection of candles on the floor were more than a tip-off.
Not to mention the bowls of chocolate and strawberries, she thought in dismay as she caught sight of them.
The buzzer shrilled again. Con looked over at her, his eyebrows raised in inquiry.
“I thought Holly was supposed to be at the Langworthy lodge this weekend with Celia,” she said in low-voiced desperation. “I can’t let her—”
“Marilee, if you’re there, answer me.” Holly’s voice, even distorted by the speaker, sounded thin and quavery. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
She’d had news of Sky. Even as the possibility tore through Marilyn’s mind like an electric shock she was scrambling up from the rug. “Let her in,” she commanded Con urgently as she frantically grabbed up her clothes. “Let her in.”
But already he was pressing the button that released the main door. Distorted or not, it was evident by the sounds emanating from the lobby that Holly was unaccompanied by anyone else and that she had succeeded in gaining entrance.
Even now her half sister would be waiting for the elevator, Marilyn thought. She spied her thong panties wedged between two sofa cushions and hastily snatched them up. The chocolate and strawberries—she had to hustle them out of sight. Except that left the candles, and removing them was a priority. Or should she forgo everything else and race upstairs to have a three-second shower?
She froze in indecision. If the relationship between her and her half sister had been halfway normal, this unannounced visit wouldn’t be cause for panic, she thought bleakly—slight embarrassment, maybe, but not panic. But as it was—
“I’ll take care of this.” Unhurriedly Con ambled over, the expression in his eyes as he looked at her tenderly amused. “Gawd, we can’t have her suspecting big sis might have been foolin’ around, can we, cher’? Go jump in the shower, brush your hair, whatever it is you feel you need to do. But, Mar’lyn?”
She was already gathering up the rest of her clothes. “Yes?”
His gaze was shadowed. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t get your hopes up too high. The Confidential organization has my cell number, and I would have been informed if there’d been a break in the case.”
He was probably right, she thought as she stepped out of the shower a few minutes later and hurriedly selected another recent purchase from her wardrobe—this one an old-rose stretch velvet gown that fell to just above her ankles. But for almost five months she’d forced herself to keep hoping that Sky would be returned, and she wasn’t about to stop now.
Shoving her feet into a pair of velvet mules, she glanced quickly at herself in the mirror. Long-sleeved and with a key-hole neckline, the gown was comfortable enough to lounge around at home in, as the saleswoman had assured her, but pretty enough so that with heels and earrings it wouldn’t look out of place at an evening function. The only reason she hadn’t worn it to the club with Con the previous night was that the stretch velvet made no attempt to skim her pregnant figure, but instead clung lovingly to every curve, as her reflection right now made obvious.
But that was the very reason Con would love her in this. He thought her butt was sexy. He thought her breasts were sexy. He thought her pregnancy was sexy.
He would, she thought, unable to repress the quick heat that ran through her. Con had once told her he wanted a whole houseful of children with a mama to go along with them. She’d better get used to being pregnant, because she had the feeling that with him she’d be more often in that state than out of it during the next few years.
Even as she began to turn from the mirror the realization of what she’d just been contemplating struck her and she stopped dead. Was she really considering a future as Con Ducharme’s wife? And did she really think it was possible he might propose that future to her?
Yes, and yes, Marilyn thought shakily. Which made it even more imperative that she tell him the truth. But maybe it was just as well Holly’s untimely arrival had prevented her from blurting out such a bombshell to a man who believed he was incapable of fathering children, she thought as she left the bedroom and hastened down the hall. She needed to prepare him for what would definitely come as a shock, albeit a welcome one for a man like—
Her thoughts screeched to a halt. Her foot on the top step of the stairs, she stared in dismay at the scene below.
The chocolate and strawberries were nowhere in sight. The candles had been similarly whisked away. In the scant moments he’d had before Holly’s appearance, Con had miraculously managed to remove all evidence of their recent lovemaking.
All evidence except himself, Marilyn thought hollowly. There was no way Holly hadn’t guessed at the situation she’d come close to walking into, when the man she was talking to was barechested and barefoot.
“…don’t think Daddy meant to tell us, for fear of worrying us, but naturally when Antonia mentioned Marilyn had dropped by Mother and I bullied it out of him.”
Seated on the sofa below, Hol
ly spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Marilee could have been killed. I just had to come and see for myself that she was all right. I didn’t realize she had someone here to look after her, Con—in fact, I didn’t realize she was seeing anyone at all. But that’s my fault. I’m sure if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own worries these last few months Marilyn and I would have had more of a chance to get to know each other.”
It was exactly the kind of Pollyanna-ish sentiment she might have expected from her half sister, Marilyn thought. And once upon a time Holly’s blithe assumption that her father’s other daughter would want to forget a sisterly relationship with her, complete with intimate little chats about men, now that she was living in Denver might have seemed exasperatingly obtuse.
Now it didn’t. Now it just seemed achingly sad. If Holly’s vision of them becoming close had come true, she told herself with sharp regret, Sky might never have been kidnapped. At the very least she would have been more of a support to Holly during this terrible time.
As it was, she’d been no support at all. And still Holly had rushed over here tonight to reassure herself that her big sister was unharmed.
“Just one of those freak accidents, or so building management assured us. There’ll be an investigation into how it could have happened.”
From Con’s words, it was obvious Samuel had vouch-safed nothing more than the barest facts to Holly. He looked up as Marilyn belatedly began her descent and gave her a slow smile that took in the form-fitting velvet dress she was wearing before he went on.
“Cher’, tell your little sister you’re all right. I tried to, right after I introduced myself, but I’m not sure she’s convinced.”
“I’m fine. Just a little sore in the shoulder muscles, but otherwise none the worse for wear.” Marilyn was taken aback to see tears sheening her younger half sister’s luminous green gaze, as Holly crossed the floor toward her.
“Thank God. Oh, Marilee, when Daddy told us, both Mama and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t phoned us at the lodge right away. Have you seen a doctor? Is the baby all right?”
There was real fear in her question. Marilyn hastened to dispel it. “The baby’s perfectly okay. Dr. Roblyn said there’s nothing to worry about.” She hesitated. “It—it was sweet of you to come, Holly. Do you have time to stay and have a cup of tea?”
After all the times she’d rebuffed similar invitations from Holly, she wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d declined, she thought. Instead, Holly’s face lit up.
“Tea would be wonderful.” She shot a sudden mischievous glance at Con’s bare torso. “Are you sure this is a good time?”
“Of course it is,” Marilyn said, too swiftly. “Con and I were just—were just—”
“Were just watching a documentary on tree frogs on television,” Con supplied, a corner of his mouth twitching. “But don’t worry, it ended a couple of minutes before you arrived. Mar’lyn, honey, I got to make a couple of phone calls,” he went on, taking in her flaming face with wicked amusement. “I’ll use the phone upstairs so I won’t disturb you ladies, okay?”
There wasn’t a trace of repentance in the man’s tone, Marilyn thought in exasperation as he took his leave of them, his exaggeratedly serious gaze and Holly’s dancing green one almost carbon copies of each other. She gave him a quelling look as he passed by her on the way to the stairs—a mistake, she realized as he planted a careless kiss on her mouth.
“Don’t be mad, sugar,” he murmured. “Somehow it didn’t seem right, sweeping what we’d just had together under the rug as if it was something to be ashamed of. Count yourself lucky I’m not taking out a full-page announcement in the Denver Post.”
“Tree frogs, huh?” As Con made his way upstairs and Marilyn plugged in the electric kettle, Holly sat down at the kitchen table, her tone musing. “I think I watched that documentary once myself. Nine months later Sky was born.”
“Well, since I’m already pregnant I don’t have to worry about that, do I?” Marilyn replied, her tartness automatic. She whirled around in instant contrition. “Oh, Holls, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Holls?” There was an odd expression on Holly’s face. “Did you just call me by a nickname, Marilee?”
She looked like she’d just been given a priceless gift, Marilyn thought testily. Those green eyes—heavens, they were like Con’s—were again sheened over with incipient tears, and the corners of her upturned mouth were trembling.
Holly was twenty-three. She was thirty-one. It was awfully late for each of them to have gotten a brand-new sister, but it seemed that was exactly what had just happened, she told herself, blinking away the foolish prickle in her own eyes.
“So what if I did? For God’s sake, we’re sisters, aren’t we? I guess if you’re entitled to call me by that awful name Marilee, I get to call you Holls if I want. How do you take your tea?”
“Milk and just a third of a spoon of sugar, Marilee.”
Marilyn snorted with a sister’s lack of patience. Holly smiled shyly at her before knitting her brows in a thoughtful frown.
“Your Con Ducharme’s certainly a hunk, Marilee. Where’d you find him?”
“We met at the office,” Marilyn replied briefly, knowing how misleading her answer was and regretfully realizing that for now it had to remain misleading. Even if she had the right to tell Holly why Con was in Denver, bringing up the subject of Sky’s kidnapping would shatter her sister’s fragile mood.
She set two mugs of tea on the table and sat down, her expression softening. “And yes, he’s a hunk, although that’s not a word I ever thought I’d hear myself saying. It—it’s pretty serious, Holls. On my part, anyway, and I think on Con’s, too.”
“He’s obviously good for you,” Holly said softly. “You seem happier than I’ve ever known you to be.” She looked suddenly worried. “He’s glad about your pregnancy?”
Of course, Marilyn thought. Holly, like the rest of the family, was still of the belief that Tony had fathered the baby inside her. And although she had an almost overwhelming compulsion to proclaim the truth about her child’s parentage to the world, it was unthinkable that anyone else should hear the news before the father himself did. She shook her head.
“Con doesn’t have a problem with that at all. He doesn’t have a problem with me being pregnant, period. He thinks I’m beautiful like this.” She gave an embarrassed little laugh. “Maybe the man should have his eyes checked.”
“Marilyn Langworthy, you just take that back!” Marilyn was surprised to see a flash of anger in her sister’s gaze. Holly went on, her tone fierce. “You are beautiful. If you ask me, you’re even more beautiful now as an expectant mom than you ever were as a model-thin fashionista. Just looking at you used to make me want to haul a carton of ice cream out of the freezer and scarf down the whole thing in one go.”
Her glaring green eyes held Marilyn’s startled blue ones for a long moment. Then, as if on cue, they both dissolved into laughter.
This felt so good, Marilyn thought, her shoulders shaking helplessly as yet another gale of the giggles swept through her and her sister. Why had she deprived herself of this for so many years?
Because you were afraid to come out of that ice castle you built around yourself. The answer came to her promptly. But then you met a man who blowtorched his way inside, and everything changed. All that matters now is that in the past three months you’ve somehow gotten yourself a baby, a sister and a sexy hunk of a lover. You got dealt a winning hand when Con Ducharme came into your life, so just be thankful and enjoy your good fortune.
“I thought I’d forgotten how to laugh, Marilee.” As their giggles subsided, Holly wiped her eyes and gave her sister a suddenly shaky smile. “Thanks for helping me remember. I tell myself it won’t do Sky any good to come home to a mom who only knows how to burst into tears, but sometimes it’s—” Her voice shook, and she steadied it with an obvious effort. “Oh, Marilee, sometimes it’s so hard,” she said hoarsely, her gaze
brilliant with pain. “My little boy’s been gone four and a half months now. Everyone tells me not to give up hope, but what if—what if he—”
Her haunted eyes finished her sentence for her. Swiftly Marilyn pushed her chair back, and went to her sister’s side, her hands tightly gripping Holly’s shoulders.
“Holls, listen to me,” she said with the same fierceness her sister had displayed only moments before. “Sky’s coming home, do you hear me? Good people—people who care, people who know how investigations like this work—are out there even now doing everything they can to bring your son back to you. I can’t say more because I don’t know more, but I know he’s coming home. Do you believe me?”
Tears spilling down her cheeks, Holly nodded. “I believe you, Marilee. I know you’re not the type to make up a comforting lie just to reassure me. Do you think he’ll be home in time for Christmas?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” Marilyn relaxed her grip. “But I fully intend to buy and wrap a present to put under the tree for him. And this time it won’t be a dumb silver rattle too heavy for him to lift.”
Holly gave her a watery smile. “Agreed—no silver rattles. Along with the usual toys, I’d already decided to get Sky something that would reflect the other side of his heritage. It was never my intention for him to grow up feeling he should be ashamed of the part of him that comes from his father, even though—” She bit her lip, effectively cutting off her words.
A terrible suspicion filled Marilyn. It couldn’t be true, she thought slowly. It just couldn’t be. And yet…
It would explain her silence, wouldn’t it? If she got pregnant as a result of Tony forcing himself on her the way he tried to do with me, it’s no wonder she’s refused to tell anyone. No child needs the burden of growing up knowing his conception came about as a result of violence, not love. The heritage thing fits, too—when Sky’s old enough to learn the truth Holly wants him to be proud of his Italian lineage, not to think his father’s in any way representative of the majority of Italian-Americans who helped make this country great.