“This is what I had in mind, sweet baby,” he whispered in her ear, withdrawing himself from her until he was poised just out of reach.
“Don’t leave me,” Courtney begged softly. Her fingers clenched him tightly, pulling him to her.
“Never.” He surged into her and their bodies merged once more. He whispered words of love, and dark, sexy words of passion to her, and in response, she said things she never thought she would say, things that excited and delighted him.
They moved together as the exquisite pulsing tension built to exhilarating heights, and Courtney held him tight, loving him, as his body shook with sensual tremors that rippled hotly through her. And then his love poured into her and she felt warm waves of almost unbearable pleasure sweeping through her as she climaxed beneath him, crying his name.
Ten
The morning was sunny and particularly warm for April, perfect for walking along Maple Street’s tree-lined sidewalks. Courtney and Connor borrowed Mrs. Mason’s big, old-fashioned pram to wheel Sarah, who was snugly wrapped and sleeping soundly during her outing.
“It’s almost ten,” Connor remarked, glancing at his watch. “We should get back. Wilson and—my father should be arriving.”
Courtney flinched. She couldn’t shake her visceral anxiety that Richard Tremaine’s impending visit portended doom for all of them. Suppose Tremaine was as slick and manipulative as his old pal Nollier? Wasn’t there some truth to the old “birds of a feather” adage?
For all his wealth and success in the business world, Richard Tremaine’s character certainly seemed less than sterling—an adulterous affair, an out-of-wedlock child he had paid a couple to take. And what a couple he had chosen—the unhappily married McKays, from Connor’s description, a gambler and his dour wife!
She was miserably certain that it was Connor’s amnesia that had inspired Tremaine to seek out his abandoned son after all these years. How could she let an unsuspecting Connor meet this man knowing nothing of the past? Suppose Tremaine, inspired by some sadistic whim, indulged in lies and mind games that Connor was totally unprepared to handle?
“Connor, there is something you have to know,” she began, but he immediately cut her off.
“Honey, I know you don’t approve of my father visiting me. But—”
“Connor, you don’t know him, you never have,” she blurted out. “He’s simply your biological father, he never married your mother. You don’t even know who she is, you were raised by another couple. This morning will be the first time you and Richard Tremaine have ever met. You grew up with Dennis McKay as your father and—and he died six months ago.”
She waited for him to register shock, disappointment— something!
Instead, he remained calm and collected, in striking contrast to her own agitation. “Courtney, I appreciate your concern, but I see no harm in meeting Richard Tremaine.” There was no tension, no hostility radiating from him as there had been in the past when he had discussed the man who had paid to be rid of him. He shrugged. “I think this is a meeting that is probably long overdue.”
He picked up his pace, pushing the baby carriage toward Mrs. Mason’s house. Courtney dragged behind until he stopped and waited for her to catch up to him. He put his arm around her, pulling her close. “There’s nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.”
Nothing? She couldn’t shake the unfamiliar but strong urge to burst into tears. Everything was moving so fast; she felt powerless as time and events spun out of her control.
Since she’d awakened this morning, she couldn’t keep her hands off Connor, couldn’t let him out of her sight for a moment. Her body was tingly and aching in places that made her blush just thinking about. She was clingy and dependent, totally unlike her usual strong, spunky self. She loved Connor so much, and she couldn’t rid herself of the terrible premonition that she was about to lose him forever.
She nuzzled her face against his chest, holding on tightly to him, never wanting to let go. His hand slid from her waist to her hip, and he spread his fingers wide. “I want you,” he said, his voice roughening. “I wish this visit was over and Sarah was napping and we were—” he whispered something so rampantly sexual in her ear that she blushed again.
Her breath quickened and her breasts tightened achingly. Wetness and warmth welled between her thighs. He had such power over her that merely his words could bring her to a state of readiness. She thought of last night’s passion and trembled.
She gazed up at him, dazed and shaken. He arched his brows, his smile positively wicked. “I’m remembering, too, Gypsy.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. The way he was looking at her, the way he’d said Gypsy in that teasing, seductive way... Could he possibly—
He bent his head and took her mouth in a hard, swift kiss. Her mind splintered. For the rest of the way back, burning sensual images, memories of his hard body pressing into hers, moving within her, replaced all coherent thought.
Wilson Nollier and Richard Tremaine were already sitting in Mrs. Mason’s living room when they arrived at the house. Courtney froze in her tracks at the sight of them.
But not Connor. He calmly lifted Sarah from the carriage and handed her to Courtney before walking toward the two men.
“Connor,” Wilson Nollier broke the silence. “This is Richard Tremaine. Your father.”
Courtney held her breath. The scene seemed to unfold in slow motion before her eyes. She watched Richard Tremaine extend his hand to Connor, she saw the two men exchange a firm handshake. And then, to her astonishment, Richard Tremaine, the very image of corporate wealth and success with his controlled executive air and impeccable custom-tailored suit, suddenly put his arms around the jeans-clad Connor and hugged him hard.
Her jaw dropped. There were tears in Tremaine’s green eyes. Eyes that were so like Connor’s in color and shape that she couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it the first time she had met him. Of course, she hadn’t been aware he was Connor’s father then. But Connor had.
She stared, wondering what was going to happen next. She half expected Connor to suddenly announce that he had regained his memory and then berate Richard Tremaine for dumping him on the McKays.
It didn’t happen. And while Connor didn’t return Tremaine’s embrace, he didn’t pull away, either.
“My son,” the older man said in a voice choked with emotion. “Connor, I’ve waited for so long for this day. Thirty-four years. But I never gave up hoping that one day it would occur.”
Courtney thought he was laying it on a bit thick and wished that the old acerbic Connor were back to call him on it. She shifted restlessly, watching Tremaine hug Connor again and proclaim his happiness at this long-awaited reunion. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “If you were so eager to see Connor, why didn’t you contact him before this, Mr. Tremaine?” she asked coolly.
“He desperately wanted to,” Wilson Nollier inserted quickly. “But Connor’s mother refused to let him have any contact whatsoever with their son. When she married Dennis McKay, she told Richard it was all over between them and that he could never be a part of their son’s life. She intended to raise Connor as McKay’s natural son. Richard felt he had to respect her wishes. I was astonished to learn that Connor already knew the truth about his father. It’s certainly not what Nina planned when she broke it off with Richard. I immediately got in touch with Richard, even before I received word about the accident. He wanted to see Connor right away, but—it seemed prudent to wait a few more days.”
“This isn’t making any sense.” Visibly baffled, Courtney stared at the three men. “Connor said Dennis McKay told him that his mother was Richard Tremaine’s girlfriend and that she handed him over to the McKays after Mr. Tremaine paid them a hefty cash settlement to take him off their hands.”
“What are you talking about?” snapped Nollier. “His mother never handed him over to anybody. She married Dennis McKay—against my advice, I might add—because she wanted to keep her baby.
Thirty-four years ago, a young single woman didn’t dare openly raise an illegitimate child on her own. Not that she would’ve had to. Richard wanted to—”
“So that was the reason why the McKays didn’t legally adopt Connor,” Courtney cut in, remembering Connor’s throwaway remark that day in Kieran Kaufman’s office.
“Nina gave birth to her son, she certainly didn’t need to adopt him,” Nollier said patronizingly. “And in most states, a child bom within a marriage is considered to be the legal child of the husband. Certainly in the state of Maryland.”
He and Courtney looked at each other, as if realizing at the same time they were the only ones talking. Connor and Richard Tremaine hadn’t said a word.
“I never paid anyone to take you, Connor,” Richard said, his eyes never leaving his son. “I wanted to be a part of your life, but your mother wouldn’t allow it. I sent monthly child support payments directly to Dennis McKay because your mother made it very clear that she wanted nothing from me. She refused to have anything to do with me, she wouldn’t even speak to me. I was informed that you believed you were McKay’s son and I worried that telling you otherwise would be selfish on my part and traumatic on yours. But I sent the checks to Dennis and he regularly gave me news and pictures of you.”
“And Dennis McKay cashed those checks every month and gambled all of it away,” Courtney exclaimed indignantly, recalling Connor’s cryptic version of his family history. “Connor never knew about or benefited from the money, and I’m sure Mrs. McKay didn’t either. She had to work hard to support the family all those years while that— that sociopath wasted Connor’s money and then lied to him about his parents!”
She was outraged at the duplicity. Connor had been cheated and his mind poisoned from the time he was a child. The knowledge inflamed her.
“I always suspected that Dennis McKay was a first-class louse,” Nollier inserted, equally incensed. “I tried to warn Nina, but she was so damn stubborn. She wouldn’t listen to me, she said McKay had agreed to marry her and accept the baby as his own. She wouldn’t let Richard go ahead with his plans for a divorce, she insisted he stick with his wife Mamie and—”
“Nina was sick with guilt over our affair,” Richard inserted quietly. He gazed intently at Connor. “You see, I was married when I met your mother—”
“But it wasn’t one of those sleazy pickups,” Nollier interrupted with his usual self-righteous ebullience. “I was with your father the day he met your mother, Connor. Richard had cut his hand at the club and needed stitches. I drove him to the hospital where your mother was a nurse on duty in the emergency ward. They took one look at each other and bam! You know those old movies where fireworks go off when the couple meets? That’s what it was like, Connor, I swear. They couldn’t fight it, they just fell madly in love.”
“I see,” Connor said dryly.
Courtney watched him, her anxiety building. He was completely calm and seemed to be taking this awfully well.
But then his mind was free of the embittered memories planted and nurtured by the late Dennis McKay. She was more emotionally affected by this revisionist version of his personal history than he was.
“Bam, fireworks,” she repeated, rolling her eyes heavenward. The old movie imagery was cliched but rather novel when used as a defense. She responded in kind. “One of those ‘bigger than the both of us’ kind of things, hmm?” “It was exactly that, but it didn’t justify me cheating on my wife,” Richard Tremaine said sadly. “I was dishonest and wrong and I’ve paid the price for it every day since. I hurt Nina, and in the end I lost both her and my son.”
It was his unmistakable sorrow that touched Courtney. She’d been expecting arrogance and rationalization, not genuine remorse.
“Richard, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Wilson Nollier exclaimed. “Let me paint the full picture for these kids. You were trapped in an unhappy marriage. Your wife didn’t understand you.”
Courtney frowned. Richard Tremaine might not have resorted to the standard rationalization, but Wilson Nollier had jumped right in with it. Or was this all a carefully orchestrated act, sort of good-cop, bad-cop routine for some elusive, nefarious purpose?
She cast a covert glance at Connor and found him watching her. He moved away from his father to stand by her side. “Why don’t you take the baby upstairs and put her to bed?” he suggested quietly. “Then lie down yourself.” He gently traced the pale purplish shadows under her eyes with his thumb. “You’re tired, you need a nap.” He lowered his voice. “You didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Courtney quivered. It was unfair for him to bring up last night when she was trying so hard to keep her wits about her to stay ahead of Nollier and Tremaine.
He smiled a lazy, sexy smile that promised... lazy sex. Long, slow loving like they’d enjoyed this morning before getting up. She thought of the drowsy intimacy, the lingering caresses and slow, deep strokes. The exploding pleasure and warm afterglow.
“I’ll be up to join you shortly,” he promised, watching the pink flush suffuse her cheeks. He smiled.
But if passion had fogged her brain, it hadn’t left her totally witless. “You want me out of the way while you talk to—him.” She glanced bleakly at Richard Tremaine. He met her gaze steadily, but his expression was enigmatic, giving nothing away.
She was afraid of him, Courtney realized. Tremaine was a wealthy, powerful man with all sorts of connections, with friends in high places. And one of his friends was Wilson Nollier, the unscrupulous baby-seller whom she and Connor had set out to expose. The fact that Nollier had been wonderful to both her and Connor during their time in Shadyside Falls somehow made it harder, not easier, to trust Richard Tremaine.
“Go on up, baby.” With his arm around her, Connor firmly walked her out of the room. He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. “And stop worrying. Didn’t I promise that everything is going to be all right?”
Even then, she might have insisted on remaining, except Sarah’s blue eyes suddenly snapped open and her face screwed up as if to wail.
“Uh-oh, her appetite alarm is about to go off,” Connor observed, running his finger along the infant’s cheek. Sarah reflexively turned her mouth toward it, rooting for a nipple. When she didn’t find one, she let out a howl of protest.
Courtney trudged toward the stairs. She had no choice but to leave and tend to the baby. But she was still within earshot when she heard Richard Tremaine say, “Connor, I know you’re a lawyer, and I want to offer you your rightful place in Tremaine Incorporated...”
Courtney fairly ran upstairs, a sickening panic setting in. He thought Connor was a lawyer! Because she had told Wilson Nollier so, based on the necessity to invent a career that had nothing to do with investigating for Insight magazine and the TV tabloids.
Tending to Sarah’s needs forced her to focus on the baby rather than the ferocious anxiety that surged through her each time she thought of the quagmire they were caught in. By the time the baby was fed, diapered and put down for a nap, Courtney was calm enough to realize that she needed help.
But not from the usual sources. This wasn’t a case for the police or the fire department or any other conventional source of aid. It was an unconventional dilemma that required unconventional assistance. While Sarah slept peacefully in her crib and Connor talked downstairs with his father and Nollier, Courtney dialed the number of the D.C. office of Insight magazine.
Kieran Kaufman wasn’t at all glad to hear from her. “I have three stories going on here and a deadline that might end up killing me,” he barked. “On top of that, my whole life is shot to hell. What do you want?”
Courtney swallowed. This wasn’t going to be easy. Kaufman was hardly the warm, benevolent type who inspired confidences. Quite the opposite. “Connor has amnesia,” she blurted out, even as she was wondering where on earth to start.
Kaufman gave a derisive hoot of laughter. “You’ve watched one soap opera too many, kid. So what else is going on down there
in Shadyside Falls? Do you have a secret evil twin masquerading as you and wreaking havoc all over town?”
“This is serious!” she exclaimed, her voice rising nervously. “Connor thinks he’s a lawyer and—”
“He is a lawyer,” Kieran cut in. “And if you think he has amnesia, you’re a world-class nitwit. He’s obviously faking it—to get you into bed, maybe? Has it worked?”
Courtney was too shocked to take offense or to make any response at all. Connor really was a lawyer? What he’d said to her on the drive to Shadyside Falls that day came back to her once again: “What if I were to tell you that I worked my way through college and law school? That I passed the bar exam and am a licensed attorney in Virginia, Maryland and the District of Columbia?”
Instead of following up on the statement, she’d instantly assumed he was razzing her and had countered with sarcasm of her own.
Kaufman broke the silence. “Anything else? Or do you just want to stay on the line wasting my time?”
“If Connor is a lawyer why isn’t he practicing law?” she demanded. “Why is he working as a—”
“I never asked Connor how or why he ended up doing what he does,” Kaufman interrupted impatiently. “Hey, I graduated near the top of my class from Columbia’s School of Journalism. Why aren’t I working at The New York Times? Sometimes things work out differently from our original plans.”
“Do they ever!” she seconded fervidly. “Kieran, do you—”
“No more of your stupid questions,” he interjected rudely. “I gotta go.”
“You’re certainly in a rotten mood,” she snapped before he could hang up on her.
“Yeah, well, it’s all your fault. You’re the one who introduced me to Jarrell Harcourt and screwed up my life.” Courtney was taken aback, first by the abrupt change of subject, and then by the subject itself. “I did not! You introduced yourself to her.”
The Baby Track Page 15