“She already has.” This time it was Peter who was amused.
“You’d best watch your mouth.”
Peter merely shrugged.
“Granted, I don’t know who fathered her child, but it’s not Mitch Rawlins.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Well, I’m saying it. When you leave this room, you just remember that. Now get out.”
Peter stomped to the door, where he swung around. “Do we still have a deal?”
“Not if you don’t get some balls and persuade my daughter to marry you.”
Peter gave him a sharp look, along with a curse, then slammed the door behind him.
Cooper didn’t know how long he stood there with a helpless feeling washing through him. He wiped sweat off his forehead, even though the air conditioner was spitting out cold air. How dare Lindsay defy him to such an extent?
How dare she?
Twenty-Two
“Hey, sis, are you ill?”
Lindsay gave a start as Tim’s blunt words singled her out. All eyes seemed to jump to her. She managed a smile, then said with forced vigor, “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought, though the dinner’s delicious.”
“It is that,” Eve said in her soft, Southern-accented voice. “I have to say, Dolly outdid herself for my birthday.”
Lindsay thought so, too, though she had eaten sparsely. Her stomach was not in the mood for food, hadn’t been since she found out she was pregnant. Her mood wasn’t festive, either, and she was sorry about that, as well.
It was the first time the family had been together since Cooper’s accident, and she had so wanted to enjoy the evening. Instead, she was not only physically unfit, but mentally unfit, as well. Questions over what to do about the baby and Mitch preyed heavily on her mind.
Still, she was trying not to think about her dilemma at the moment. Instead she concentrated on the lovely flowers in front of her, another way in which Dolly had gone all out for the party. The arrangement of white lilies mixed with Waterford crystal candle holders made for a smashing centerpiece. In addition, the table was set to perfection with the family’s best china and silver.
“Lindsay.”
Her daddy’s gruff voice pulled her back to the moment.
“You have to eat,” he said.
She hated being the center of attention, especially when it was Eve’s evening. And her sister-in-law looked smashing, too, in a midnight-gray dress that was just a shade darker than her eyes.
“I’m fine, Daddy,” Lindsay finally said, forcing a brighter smile. “Don’t fuss so. That’s what you’re always telling me.”
Cooper gave her a long, pointed look, but didn’t say anything further. Thank God. She regretted having told him she was pregnant. It had been a knee-jerk response on her part, and it had only provided him with additional ammunition to use to try to control her. Although he hadn’t said anything more to her about her condition since she’d sent Peter away again, she knew that wouldn’t last.
An all-out confrontation loomed, and she dreaded it.
“So what have you been up to, sis?” Tim asked, taking a sip of wine.
“Oh, just my usual charity obligations,” she said off-handedly, once again trying to divert the attention elsewhere.
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Eve chimed in, smiling at Lindsay.
“And just what have you heard?” Tim asked.
“That Lindsay’s working on a project that will benefit abused women and children. It’s supposedly a one-of-a-kind facility.” Eve paused. “And I think that’s wonderful.”
“Well, I don’t,” Cooper said harshly. “That’s not at all what I want her involved in.”
Eve flushed and for a moment seemed at a loss for words.
“Don’t mind Daddy,” Lindsay said lightly, trying to ease the growing tension. “He doesn’t want me doing anything that takes me away from his dinner parties.”
Tim winked at Lindsay. “I hear you. At least he’s on your case now, instead of mine.”
“I suggest you two stop while you’re ahead.”
Although Cooper’s lips wore a half smile, Lindsay knew he wasn’t amused. His eyes were hard as stones.
“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” she said, averting her gaze. “Let’s toast Eve one more time.”
Tim stood abruptly. “I think that’s a great idea. Then I’ll give her my gift.”
“I told you not to get me anything,” Eve said, her tone a bit anxious.
“Oh, come on,” Tim said. “You know better than that.” Once the toast was done, he leaned over, picked up a beautifully wrapped box off the floor and handed it to her. “Happy birthday, my dear.”
Eve was clearly flustered and not very excited, Lindsay noticed, watching as her sister-in-law stripped the package of its ribbon and paper.
This time all eyes centered on Eve as she opened the box.
“Oh, Eve, that’s gorgeous,” Lindsay said, flashing her brother a curious look, then switching back for a closer look at the diamond tennis necklace that Eve was still staring at, her mouth open.
For someone who was always broke, Tim had purchased an extravagant gift, Lindsay mused. Dare she hope that he had indeed straightened up and gotten his financial act together?
Apparently Eve was thinking along those same lines, because her face was white and pinched as she focused her attention on her husband. “I thought we were broke,” she said in an accusing tone.
An abrupt silence descended over the room. Finally Tim broke it. “Can’t you just say thank you?” He bit out his words, and a muscle bunched in his jaw.
Lindsay knew he was furiously embarrassed and was trying to hang on to his temper.
“Under the circumstances, no,” Eve said, her chin beginning to quiver.
“I don’t think this is the time or place to discuss your finances,” Cooper interjected, his gaze pinging back and forth between Eve and Tim.
Eve stood. “You’re exactly right. This is something that should be discussed at home, which is exactly where I’m going.” She added, “Thank you for a lovely party.”
She walked out then, leaving a heavy silence behind her.
“Daddy, I’m sorry about that,” Tim said, shifting in his seat as if he were sitting on a bed of fire ants.
“Instead of being sorry,” Cooper retorted, “I suggest you get your wife in hand.”
Lindsay had had enough. She stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room. It’s been a long day.”
“Good night,” Tim muttered darkly.
Cooper’s gaze touched on her, then he said, “We’ll talk later.”
That was what she was afraid of, Lindsay told herself as she made her way up to her room, where she quickly stripped off her clothes and slipped on a robe.
What a mess her family was, she reflected a little while later. What a fiasco dinner had turned out to be. She could imagine what was going on between Eve and Tim about now. Most likely World War III. Was any one of them normal—especially herself? Tears welled up and burned her eyes.
A baby was growing inside her. Wondering what to do about that was tearing at her, making her crazy. Suddenly Lindsay panicked, feeling as if the walls were once again closing in on her. She practically ran to the French doors, threw them open and walked onto the balcony.
Fresh air.
Humid though it was, the air felt good. She sucked it deeply into her lungs until she felt her heart stop racing. Yet the panicked feeling didn’t totally subside. It wouldn’t until she made a firm decision.
Should she have the baby?
Dear Lord, she wanted it, but she was afraid, afraid it would be damaged goods, like herself and her mother. What if Emily had passed some defective gene on to her. Would she in turn pass it to her child?
There was always that chance. Was she willing to take it? Hot tears continued to burn Lindsay’s cheeks, but she didn’t try to stop them. Should she tell Mitch? She didn’t know what to do. She
wanted to, but she was afraid of that, too. So what was the answer?
An abortion?
A wave of dizziness hit her so hard that she almost lost her balance. Grasping the railing, she clung to it until the world righted itself. Although that thought was repugnant to her and went against everything she held dear, she had to consider it. She had no choice.
If only she knew how Mitch would react to the news that he was going to be a father. Unfortunately, she had no idea. In so many ways, he remained an enigma to her. She couldn’t imagine him as a parent. But then, she couldn’t imagine herself in that role, either.
But together, with love, they might be able to make it work. No doubt she loved him, had loved him from the first moment she’d seen him, though at the time she had thought it was just lust.
Did he love her? She didn’t know. That uncertainty alone was enough to keep her mute about the baby. She wouldn’t marry a man who didn’t love her, not even to give her child a name.
How could loving someone hold so much pain?
She continued to grip the railing, feeling the gentle breeze caress her cheeks and dry her tears. She didn’t know when she first realized he was there, close by, in the inky blackness, watching her. But she knew.
Should she say anything, or wait for him to make the first move? What madness this man—the father of her child—worked in her. She couldn’t begin to figure out why, nor did she want to. All she wanted was to dash down the balcony stairs and run to him.
She ached for him. She needed him. Now. Tonight. This second. Her hand clutching at her stomach, she called out his name.
He stepped out of the shadows, and though she couldn’t see him clearly, she imagined that his blue eyes were fixed on her.
“I’m here,” he said in his low, husky voice.
“I know.”
He walked toward the balcony, then stopped and peered up at her. “Are you all right? It’s awfully late for you to be outside.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I.”
Silence.
“Maybe if we tried it together?” he suggested.
“Think that might work?” Her heart was laboring so hard, she thought it might burst.
“We won’t know till we try. Come on down.”
Lindsay didn’t wait for a second invitation. As if her legs were detached from the rest of her body, she threw caution, logic and everything else to the wind and headed for the stairs.
Mitch met her at the foot. But he didn’t take her in his arms. Instead, he grabbed her hand and led her to his cabin.
“I hope we don’t get caught,” she whispered, halting at the front door and gazing up at him through slightly dazed eyes.
“You can always say no.”
“I don’t want to say no.”
“I think I’d die if you did,” he rasped.
The sounds of the night suddenly pulsated around them, but she heard nothing but her heart.
“Lindsay…” His voice was filled with such agony that it broke her heart.
She placed a hand over his lips. “Shh.” Then, opening the door, she walked inside.
The bedroom was cast in a muted glow, which allowed him to see her face. What he saw robbed him of his breath. There was sorrow and bruising in those lovely planes and angles. And dried tears.
Something was wrong, terribly wrong, only he didn’t know what. He feared she wouldn’t tell him, either. Maybe that was best. Right now, she seemed only to need him to hold her, to love her.
Stifling a groan, he stared into those ravaged eyes as he untied the sash of her robe, slipping it off her shoulders. He stopped breathing again at the sight of such perfection. He yearned to touch, to kiss, to lose himself in that perfection.
Unable to wait another second, he stripped off his own clothes, then eased her down onto the edge of the bed, with every intention of gently pushing her back against the spread.
Only she stopped him. “Not yet,” she whispered.
Before he could respond, she reached out and cupped his buttocks, drawing him toward her. When her tongue dipped into his navel, he jerked as if he’d been hit with a high current of electricity.
“Lindsay, my sweet Lindsay,” he muttered irrationally as her tongue deserted his navel and traveled lower. When she reached his burgeoning penis, she opened her mouth wide and licked his flesh.
His head fell back, and his knees almost buckled at the unexpected emotion this tender and wonderful worshiping of his body brought on. It hit his soul, and sobs of ecstasy broke from his throat.
“Enough,” he ground out at last, pushing her down, spreading her legs and thrusting into her.
She cried out and lifted her buttocks so as to take all of him.
Using his hands to brace himself on either side of her, he moved in, then out of her, creating another kind of friction—hot and frantic.
“Please!” she cried again, locking her legs around his buttocks, trapping him inside her.
He covered her. Then, taking her with him, as close as two people could get, he rolled onto his back so that she was now atop him, where he speared high and strong into her.
Digging her hands into his shoulders, she began to ride him hard and fast. Another moan erupted from his lips as he reached his peak, then watched as Lindsay began to spasm. At the end, into the scared darkness, she whispered one word.
“Mitch.”
Twenty-Three
Lindsay blinked until her vision cleared. She surveyed her surroundings. It finally hit her where she was and who she was with. She swung her head around and found Mitch propped on an elbow, staring at her.
For some idiotic reason, she felt herself blush all over. Instinctively, she reached for the sheet.
His hands stilled hers. “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?”
“I guess you could say that.” Her tone was as breathless as his was teasing.
Suddenly his eyes changed. Something flared into them that she couldn’t identify.
“Lindsay—”
“Don’t say anything,” she whispered in a broken voice. “Not yet, anyway.”
He swallowed convulsively. “Why not?”
“I’m pregnant, Mitch.”
He didn’t so much as move a muscle, except the one in the left side of his jaw. It jerked several times. Her heart faltered. He wasn’t overjoyed; that was for sure. But what had she expected? After all, she’d just dropped something akin to a grenade in his lap and watched it explode in his face.
“It’s mine.”
Because those two words were a flat statement of fact, Lindsay didn’t take umbrage. How could she, with Peter in the picture and Cooper’s all-out push for her to marry him?
“Yes. I’ve…never slept with Peter.”
“Oh, God, Lindsay.” Mitch struggled to get another breath.
She bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. “I know. It’s a mess, isn’t it?”
“Does your father know?”
“Yes,” she said again.
Mitch muttered an expletive.
“But he doesn’t know whose it is,” she said in a rush.
He was so close to her that she immediately felt some of the tension drain from his body. “Are you going to keep it that way?”
“For now.”
“I had no idea you weren’t protected.”
“If I’d been sleeping with Peter, I probably would’ve been.”
His eyes darkened as he continued to peer into hers. “Even when I convinced myself you were, I couldn’t stomach the thought of him touching you. Maybe that was one reason I took so much pleasure in decking the SOB.”
“Oh, Mitch.”
He was quiet for a long moment, then he asked, “How do you feel about…the baby? I mean—”
“I know what you mean. But I don’t really know. First I was numb. Now I’m sick.”
“Sick?” His voice was suddenly thick with concern.
“To my stomac
h, which is pretty normal.”
“How are you doing emotionally?”
“Not very well,” she admitted. “Actually, I’m scared for so many reasons.” She paused. “What about you? How do you feel?”
“Scared shitless.”
“At least you’re honest,” she said bleakly.
“Do you want this baby, Lindsay?”
Unexpected tears gathered in her eyes. “I want it, but I’m afraid to have it.”
“Ah, hell, don’t cry, please.” He sounded as if it hurt him to talk, as if he were strangling. “I can’t handle that.”
“Well, this is something to cry about.”
“You’re right, it is.”
“Daddy thinks my marrying Peter will solve everything.”
“Over my dead body,” Mitch spat.
“Over mine, too.”
“Thank God.”
Lindsay turned away and didn’t say anything else for a long moment. She was desperately trying to organize her tormented thoughts into words he would understand. If only he loved her, then maybe there would have been a chance for them and their baby. But he didn’t, and she knew that, had known that all along.
While that broke her heart, she didn’t condemn him for it.
“So what are you going to do?” Mitch finally asked into the drumming silence.
“I’m considering an abortion.” There. She’d said the ugly word out loud, gotten it out in the open. But it didn’t make the choice any more palatable. In fact, she felt as if someone had taken a knife and was jabbing her heart.
“It’s your call,” he said in a neutral tone.
Lindsay stared closely at him, trying to read what was going on behind his eyes, what he really felt. But she couldn’t. If he had any fiery thoughts on the subject, he was keeping them to himself. But then, he was a master at disguising his emotions. Still, his apparent indifference brought on another jab of that knife.
“Don’t you want to know why?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Only if you want to tell me.”
She struggled for breath. “I’m afraid that my—our baby won’t be whole, that it—” Tears clogged her voice and she couldn’t go on.
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