The Baby Bet: His Secret Son (The Baby Bet #5)

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “I understand.” Margaret sighed as she nodded. “Several times during the past week I saw Robert rubbing his chest and asked him what was wrong. He said he was simply having indigestion from all the rich food we were eating during the reunion. We didn’t heed the warnings his body was giving us.”

  “Don’t dwell on that,” Kara said. “What’s done is done, and the important thing now is to see Uncle Robert through this. He wouldn’t want you sitting here totally exhausting yourself, Aunt Margaret. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know.” Margaret got to her feet, then leaned down to kiss Robert on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, my love.” She straightened again. “All right, Kara, deliver me to my chauffeur. I’ll go home for a little while, but promise me you’ll call if—”

  “Yes, yes, I will,” Kara said, placing an arm around her aunt’s shoulders.

  After one last lingering look at her husband, Margaret left the intensive care unit with Kara. They walked down the quiet hallway toward the waiting room.

  “I have clothes here I can change into,” Kara said. “I just haven’t taken the time to do it. I can bunk in the residents’ sleep room, and I’ll leave instructions that I’m to be notified if there’s any change in Uncle Robert’s condition.”

  “It’s awfully good of you to spend the night here, Kara.”

  “I love Uncle Robert. Besides, since I’m on staff here, I’m the one who’s in the best position to do it. I don’t have any patients scheduled at my office tomorrow, either. Now all we have to do is convince the guys to go home.”

  “Have any of them spoken about the scene between Andrew Malone and Robert at the party before Robert collapsed?” Margaret said.

  “They haven’t said anything to me about it,” Kara said. “I know they all heard the confrontation because they were close by at the time, but they might very well be putting it on an emotional back burner for now and just concentrating on Uncle Robert. I really don’t know.”

  Margaret nodded.

  They entered the waiting room, and Margaret swept her gaze over the tall handsome men who rose immediately to their feet.

  Michael, Ryan, Forrest, John, Richard, Jack and Ted—she looked at each in turn. Even dear Ted had stayed because he considered himself a true member of their family. Such fine men they all were. She was so proud of all of them, loved them so much.

  And Andrew Malone? What words would those who knew him use to describe him? Was he honest, hardworking, a man of integrity and other admirable values? If so, how could he have come to that restaurant and done what he had with a clear conscience? What had he hoped to gain? Was Andrew really Robert’s son? And, dear heaven, if he was, how old was he?

  Margaret sighed and shook her head.

  Stop it, she admonished herself. She kept coming back to those frightening questions. She was so selfish, so—

  “Exhausted,” Michael said. “You should see yourself, Mom. You’re out on your feet. You and I are leaving right now.”

  “We’re all going home,” Margaret said, lifting her chin. “Kara is staying here and will telephone if there’s any change in Robert’s condition. You all need your sleep, just as I do. We have a long way to go before this nightmare is over.”

  “But—” Ryan started.

  “Don’t argue with me, Ryan,” Margaret said. “I’m in no mood for it. Just do as you’re told—all of you. Pretend that you’re as young as your children and that I’m in charge.”

  “She has spoken,” Forrest said.

  “Indeed I have,” Margaret said.

  “Hey,” Michael said, raising both hands as he frowned at the other men, “don’t look at me. Just because I’m the oldest doesn’t mean I’m willing to take her on when she gets like this.” He paused and his frown deepened. “Well, I think I’m the oldest.”

  “Don’t go there, Michael,” Ryan said, narrowing his eyes. “Not now.”

  “No, not tonight,” Margaret said. “The issues raised by Andrew Malone will be addressed when Robert is able to explain what we need to know.”

  “Well, Mom,” Forrest said, “for what it’s worth, we figured out to a point who Malone is.”

  “What do you mean?” Margaret said.

  “We’ve had a lot of hours to sit here,” Forrest said. “We were talking earlier, and Michael and I thought the name Andrew Malone sounded familiar, that the guy even looked like someone we’d seen before.”

  “And?” his mother said, hardly above a whisper.

  “It finally hit us,” Forrest went on. “He’s Andrew Malone of Malone Construction. He’s built quite a few projects from plans we drew up. I even talked to him last year on a site. He’s from Santa Maria, but his outfit works all over the state, and he’s got a top-of-the-line reputation.”

  “He’s also a nutcase,” Richard said, frowning. “He’s Uncle Robert’s son? Give me a break. He’s after something. Money, probably.”

  “He doesn’t need money,” Ryan said. “Ted and I ran a check on him through our resources at the police department. Malone is well-set financially, and is squeaky clean as far as the law goes. I guess I should have told you that earlier, but we were all walking on eggs around the subject of Malone and what he accused Dad of. I don’t know what Malone wants, but I’ll find out. Oh, yeah. Guaranteed.”

  “Ryan MacAllister,” Margaret said, “you are not to do your macho cop thing with Andrew Malone. This will be handled in a mature and nonviolent manner. Am I making myself clear?”

  “No,” Ryan said.

  “Ryan,” Margaret said, a definite warning tone to her voice.

  Ryan sighed. “Yeah, okay, Mom—for now.”

  “I’ll deck him for you, partner,” Ted said. “Your mom didn’t yell at me.”

  “I just did, Ted Sharpe,” Margaret said, “and that goes for all of you. Michael, I’d like to go home, please. All of you go to your families and I’ll see you tomorrow…well, later today, considering the hour.”

  Hugs were exchanged and the group left the waiting room.

  Kara pressed fingertips to her aching temples, then walked slowly from the room with the intention of going to the locker area in the lower level of the hospital and changing out of her party dress.

  After stopping at the nurses’ station and explaining that she was staying at the hospital and would have her pager turned on in case she was needed, she walked slowly down the hall, aware suddenly of how very weary she was.

  As she approached the entrance to the intensive care unit, she halted. Andrew Malone had his back against the wall near the doorway. His arms were folded loosely over his chest and his eyes were closed. A dark shadow of a beard appeared on his face, and his hair was tousled slightly as though he’d been dragging a hand through it.

  He looked so tired, Kara thought, and so very very alone. The MacAllister family was banded together, supporting each other, standing close as a unit to weather this storm that was threatening them.

  But Andrew had no one.

  She knew—oh, yes, she truly knew—how chilling that feeling was. There had been a time in her life when she’d had no one, had been frighteningly alone.

  But then she’d been drawn into the warm loving embrace of the MacAllister family, had become one of them, had belonged, had been loved and made to feel special and wanted.

  If what Andrew Malone claimed was true, if he was Robert’s son, then he deserved that warmth and caring, too, more than she ever had.

  Kara sighed and shook her head.

  She felt as though she was being pulled in two directions.

  A part of her was still angry at Andrew for what he had done at that party. It was cold, and cruel, and ugly, and the ramifications were almost more than she could bear.

  Yet another section of her being felt an ache in her heart for Andrew’s isolation, his aloneness.

  The fact that he was still in the hospital said he was riddled with guilt about the outcome of his actions. He was standing vigil, waiting to learn what would
happen to Robert, just as the entire family was.

  Only, Andrew was all alone.

  Kara sighed, decided that she was losing what was left of her exhausted mind, then walked forward slowly, stopping by Andrew’s side.

  “Andrew?” she said softly.

  He jerked away from the wall, blinked several times, then met Kara’s gaze. In the next instant he gripped her shoulders.

  “Is he dead?” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “Did I kill him? Oh, God, please don’t tell me that Robert died.”

  “No, no,” Kara said quickly. “Uncle Robert is holding his own. I saw you standing all alone and…”

  Kara’s words trailed off as she lost her train of thought. She was suddenly aware of the incredible heat that was rushing through her from Andrew’s hands where they were still gripping her upper arms. Her breasts were heavy, achy, yearning for a soothing touch that only Andrew could provide.

  Dear heaven, what was this man doing to her? She should step backward, force him to remove his hands, but she was pinned in place by the mesmerizing depths of his dark-brown eyes.

  MacAllister eyes.

  Oh, yes, those were MacAllister eyes. Andrew Malone was, indeed, Uncle Robert’s son. The more she looked at Andrew, the clearer the resemblance became. Andrew was a MacAllister.

  “You…you should get some rest, too, Andrew,” she said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice. “There’s no purpose to be served by your staying, pushing yourself beyond the point of exhaustion. Go get a few hours’ sleep.”

  Take your hands off her, Malone, Andrew ordered himself, but didn’t follow his own directive. He needed to touch her, to be connected to her like this, just for another moment. She was filling him with warmth, chasing away the chill of his loneliness. But that warmth was rapidly becoming heated desire, churning and coiling low in his body.

  “Kara,” he said, his voice raspy.

  He wanted to nestle her close to him, to wrap his arms around her, to kiss those delectable lips of hers, then make sweet love with her for hours. Ah, man, he was going up in flames.

  “Andrew, I…” Kara said. Want you to kiss me, hold me. “We’re both very tired. We’ve been through an extremely stressful ordeal and we’re not thinking clearly.”

  “You’re feeling what I am, aren’t you?” he said. Andrew shook his head and let his hands drop to his sides. “We’re related, for crying out loud. What am I doing?”

  “No, we’re not, but that’s beside the point,” Kara said, wrapping her hands around her elbows.

  “You don’t believe me, do you? You don’t believe I’m Robert MacAllister’s son.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said. “You have the MacAllister eyes. When I look at your features, I can see Uncle Robert in you. But we’re not related, because I’m not a MacAllister.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. I also don’t understand why you’re speaking to me, expressing concern for me. You made it perfectly clear that you despise me for what I did. Believe me, I’m not crazy about myself at the moment, either.”

  “I do despise you for what you did at that hotel, but…oh, I don’t know. I’m so confused. I was very quick to pass judgment on you,” Kara said, “because I was so worried about Uncle Robert. I’m still upset about his condition, not knowing if he’ll make it through the critical next twenty-four hours. But I’m the last person in the world who should be censuring another person’s actions.”

  “Why? What do you mean? And if you’re not a MacAllister, then who are you?”

  Kara sighed. “I guess I’m not making much sense. Perhaps…perhaps we can discuss this after we’ve had some rest.”

  “No, Kara, please. Can’t we talk now? Just for a few minutes at least? This place…” Andrew glanced around. “This place is getting to me. I know I don’t have the right to ask for your company but…”

  “I understand,” Kara said. “A hospital can be very overwhelming when you’re in the midst of a crisis and especially…especially if you’re alone. I…yes, all right. A few minutes. Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee, or some juice? Then we both need to get some sleep.”

  Andrew nodded and they walked to the elevator, each reaching out to press the button on the wall at the same time. Their fingers brushed and they pulled their hands back quickly, feeling as though they’d been singed by an incredible heat.

  When the doors opened, Kara waved Andrew into the elevator ahead of her, wanting to see where he would choose to stand so she could keep as much distance between them as possible.

  Andrew entered the elevator and turned to face Kara. As she stepped forward her heel caught in the grating and she stumbled, gasping as she felt herself falling. With a natural instinct Andrew gripped Kara’s shoulders to steady her, his elbow hitting the panel of buttons. The doors closed and the elevator began to move, but Andrew did not release his hold on Kara.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. “I…”

  Kara forgot what she was going to say as she was pinned in place by Andrew’s mesmerizing eyes. Her heart raced and her breathing quickened. The heat from Andrew’s hands was rushing though her, churning low and deep within her.

  Let her go, Andrew thought. Kara was steady on her feet now and he was going to take his hands off her and—

  “Ah, hell,” he said, then captured Kara’s mouth with his.

  Kara encircled Andrew’s neck with her arms as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his heated body.

  Desire rocketed through him as he parted her lips to delve into the sweet darkness of her mouth with his tongue, seeking and finding her tongue, stroking, dueling.

  Passions soared and reason fled.

  The elevator bumped to a stop and they jerked apart as the doors swished opened.

  “Oh, dear heaven,” Kara said breathlessly, then rushed out of the elevator, vaguely aware that they were on the floor where the cafeteria was located.

  “Kara…” Andrew said, then hurried after her as the doors began to close.

  “That didn’t happen,” she said, not slowing her step. “That…did…not…happen.”

  “Oh, yes, it did,” Andrew said, drawing a much-needed breath. “It definitely did.”

  Kara glared at Andrew as they entered the cafeteria. A short time later they were seated at a small table. Kara took a sip of her orange juice, then stared into the glass as though it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. Andrew ignored the cup of coffee in front of him as he looked at Kara.

  “There’s something happening between us, Kara, and I want to know what it is.”

  Why? he asked himself in the next instant. What difference did it make? Why was it so important? Hell, he didn’t know.

  Kara’s head snapped up. “What happened, what it is, is the product of fatigue, worry, stress and…It didn’t mean anything, Andrew.”

  “Didn’t it?” he said, his voice low and rumbly as he looked directly into her eyes.

  She couldn’t breathe, Kara thought frantically. Andrew had stolen the very breath from her body with that kiss, and she wasn’t able to refill her lungs with air when he looked at her like that. She was going to pass out cold right into her orange juice.

  “Don’t,” she whispered. “Oh, please, Andrew, just…don’t.”

  He leaned toward her. “Don’t what? Don’t desire you? Don’t want to kiss you again? Don’t want to make love with you?”

  “Stop it,” she said, looking quickly around the room, then meeting his gaze again. “None of this is real. We’re exhausted, not thinking clearly. This has been a night of nightmares, and we’re trying to escape to somewhere we don’t have to face what has taken place.”

  “Nice speech,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But I’m not buying it for a second. You’re turning me inside out, lady, and nothing like this has happened to me before. I want—for some reason I can’t fathom—to know what this is.”

  “You’re just full
of questions that you want the answers to, aren’t you, Mr. Malone?” Kara said, lifting her chin. “You want to know what is happening between us. You want to know why I’m concerned about your lack of sleep after making it clear earlier that I’d be more than happy to strangle you with my bare hands. You want to know why you’re more of a MacAllister than I am.”

  Andrew nodded. “That covers it pretty well, I’d say. Which one of those questions would you like to address first, Dr. MacAllister?”

  Kara’s shoulders slumped. “You’re a very exasperating man, do you know that? You want. You want. You want. Do you always get what you want?”

  “If I put my mind to it, yes.” Andrew reached over and drew his thumb gently across Kara’s lips. “Do you?”

  Kara shivered from the feel of Andrew’s callused thumb caressing her lips, and she moved her head back. She was torn between the urge to smack his hand away and the desire to press it to her lips.

  “Don’t you want to know what this is that’s taking place between us?” Andrew said, wrapping both hands around his coffee cup.

  “There is nothing happening between us,” Kara said. “You’ll realize that yourself after you’ve had some rest. Just forget about what happened in that elevator, Andrew. In the light of the new day it will be clear that it meant nothing.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll discuss it in the light of the new day.”

  Kara rolled her eyes heavenward, then took another sip of juice.

  “So, why am I more of a MacAllister than you are?” Andrew said.

  “It’s very simple. I’m a MacAllister in name only. I was adopted by Mary and Ralph MacAllister. You’re Uncle Robert’s son, so you’re a MacAllister by birth, or blood—however you want to put it.”

  “Oh, I see,” Andrew said, nodding. “They adopted you when you were a baby?”

  “Well, no, I…Actually, I didn’t become a MacAllister until I was eighteen years old. Mary, Ralph, Jack and Richard invited me to become an official MacAllister when I was old enough to legally make my own decisions. I had been their foster child since I was sixteen and come to love them with my whole heart.”