Kingsley Baby Trilogy: The Hero's SonThe Brother's WifeThe Long-Lost Heir

by Amanda Stevens

Bradlee held out her arms, displaying the deep red scratches from the rose vines. “Did I imagine these, too?”

  Pamela shrugged. “Oh, I’ve no doubt it happened much the way you described it. But isn’t it possible that you panicked when you got inside the nursery? Considering what happened in the past, it would be only natural. You were very traumatized by Adam’s kidnapping.”

  “How do you explain someone knocking me out?” Bradlee asked. “Or the locked door?”

  Jeremy took up his mother’s argument. “Maybe a draft from the hallway blew the door closed after you were inside and it locked automatically. Overcome with terror, you fainted. When you came to, you thought you’d been attacked. Again you panicked, and when you couldn’t get the door open, you decided to climb down the trellis.”

  Obviously, he and Pamela had discussed this scenario previously.

  David said, “That doesn’t explain how the balcony railing came to be pried loose from the frame.”

  “No one has been out on that balcony for years,” Pamela said. “The wood probably just rotted away.”

  “I don’t think so,” David said. “The railing had been tampered with.”

  “You’re an expert on such matters, are you?” Jeremy asked coolly.

  David replied just as coolly, “I’ve examined a few crime scenes, yes. Haven’t you?”

  “I’m not a criminal attorney.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to take my word for it,” David said. “And Sergeant Packer’s. He agreed that it looked as if a portion of the railing had been deliberately separated from the frame.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Pamela argued. “If someone wanted to get rid of Bradlee, why didn’t they just kill her while she was unconscious?”

  “Because they wanted it to look like an accident,” David said. “They wanted everyone to jump to the same conclusion you and Jeremy just outlined so brilliantly.”

  For a moment, Pamela didn’t seem to catch David’s meaning, but Jeremy did. He took a step forward. “Now see here. If you’re accusing us—”

  Pamela gasped. “How dare you?”

  “Oh, I dare,” David retorted. “I’ll dare to do and say a lot of things until I find out who tried to kill Bradlee.”

  * * *

  BRADLEE HAD JUST finished drying her hair that night when someone knocked on her bedroom door. She drew on a silk robe over her short nightgown and crossed the room to the door. “Who is it?”

  “David.”

  She drew back the door and he strode into the room. “I’ve been thinking about something all evening, and I want to run it by you. What if the trap set in the nursery wasn’t meant for you, after all? What if it was meant for…me…?” His words trailed off as he turned to face her for the first time. Something sparked in his eyes as his gaze lowered to the deep vee where the sides of her robe met.

  Self-conscious, Bradlee pulled the robe more snugly around her. “I just got out of the shower,” she mumbled.

  “So did I,” David said absently, his gaze still on her. He ran a hand through his damp hair, looking distracted.

  Bradlee closed the door and leaned against it. “What did you mean, the trap might have been set for you? Why?”

  “Why?” He was focusing on her legs now and seemed to have lost track of his thoughts. Then, with an effort, he tore his gaze away and walked over to the French doors. Opening them, he stepped out, and Bradlee followed.

  “I went up and examined the railing again,” he told her. “It was pulled loose from the frame about here.” He demonstrated what he meant. “Just enough so that it probably wouldn’t be detected. But that also meant it wasn’t loose enough to come apart immediately with your weight. You were able to grab hold of the trellis and save yourself from falling. But supposing someone heavier than you, someone like me, for instance, had been the one climbing over that railing? It would have broken apart instantly. I wouldn’t have had time to grab for anything but thin air.”

  “But I’m the one who saw something the night you were kidnapped,” Bradlee said.

  “Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the kidnapping.”

  “What do you mean?”

  David shrugged. “I’m saying I think we may have overlooked a critical piece of the puzzle. Let’s assume my mother was right. Someone at the fund-raiser that night paid Raymond Colter to kidnap me. Maybe you really did see that person in the nursery. But it’s been over thirty years. The secret has been safe all this time. Why would my being found or your coming back here cause Colter’s accomplice to panic? After all, if you couldn’t finger him back then, why would he think you’d be able to now?”

  “Go on,” Bradlee prompted.

  “When I made the announcement that I intended to find out who was behind my kidnapping, I may have laid the groundwork for an even deadlier plan. If someone were after the Kingsley fortune, I’d be the last person he’d want around. By making my death look as if it were tied to the kidnapping, the police would have a whole slew of suspects to investigate, namely, everyone who was present the night of the fund-raiser and the night of my party.”

  “You keep saying `he,’” Bradlee said. “I take it you have someone in mind.”

  “The one person who would benefit most from my death has an airtight alibi for the night I was kidnapped,” David said. “I pointed it out to him myself.”

  “Jeremy Willows.”

  David nodded. “Makes a certain amount of twisted sense when you think about it. You said yourself he’s remained in this house all these years hoping to become Iris’s heir. With me around, that may not happen.”

  “All right, I can buy your reasoning up to a certain point,” Bradlee said. “But what about Dr. Scott? What about what happened to me in her office?”

  “Since we didn’t take you to the hospital, we can’t be sure anything really happened. You could have just gotten sick, maybe from the anxiety of the hypnosis.”

  Bradlee frowned. “I’m beginning to feel as though you think I’m paranoid. First Jeremy and Pamela accuse me of imagining the episode in the nursery, and now you’re suggesting I made up the scene with Dr. Scott. I suppose I never overheard her conversation on the telephone, either,” she said peevishly.

  “No, I’m sure you heard exactly what you thought you did. Dr. Scott’s disappearance seems to bear that out. She may even have given you something while you were under, but that doesn’t disprove my theory. Maybe Colter’s accomplice did call Dr. Scott to find out if you’d remembered anything. But you hadn’t. So why would he need to worry? Why risk exposure by getting rid of you when, by all indications, it isn’t necessary?”

  “If what you’re saying is true,” Bradlee said, “then I’m not the one in danger. You are.”

  “It’s only guesswork, and the bottom line is still this. You could have been killed last night. I think it’s time we consider getting you away from here.”

  Bradlee glanced at him sharply. “You don’t mean that. I can’t go away now. You need me to help you find the person who paid Colter to kidnap you.”

  “Bradlee.” He took her by the shoulders, holding her in front of him. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Nothing will,” Bradlee said. “I’ll be a lot more careful from now on. But David—” her voice grew soft with emotion “—I’ve waited over thirty years for you to come back. Don’t send me away now.”

  His gaze deepened as he lifted his hand to her hair, tangling his fingers in the damp strands. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I can think of a few things,” she said, closing her eyes briefly at the softness of his touch.

  Both of his hands wove through her hair, holding her face up to his. Their eyes met for one brief, electric moment before his mouth claimed hers in a soul-shattering kiss that was anything but soft.

  Bradlee pressed her body to his as his hands left her hair to skim heatedly ov
er the silky contours of her robe.

  Then his hands were between them, untying the belt, and in an instant, the robe slithered from her shoulders. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, not once breaking the kiss.

  Bradlee had never felt so adored. So…loved. She wanted him now, instantly, more than she ever thought possible.

  But David had something else in mind—a slow, silky seduction that began at her lips and ended with her toes. And then moved all the way back up again. Over and over.

  In the throes of deep passion, Bradlee whispered the words she’d waited a lifetime to utter: “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  The words repeated themselves in David’s head as he propped himself on his elbow and watched Bradlee sleep. She looked so vulnerable, lying on her side with the covers pulled up to her chin. Her hair lay in silky waves against the pillow. He resisted the urge to touch it. He didn’t want to wake her. Not yet, anyway. Not until he had some time to think things through.

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  Such an honest proclamation of her feelings…and so like Bradlee. There were no half measures with her. It was all or nothing, and she would never try to hide her emotions. She would never try to pretend that tonight meant nothing to her. But that was exactly what David intended to do.

  It would hurt her, he knew, but what choice did he have?

  As quietly as he could, he rose from bed and slipped on his clothes, then stood for a long moment, gazing down at her.

  He couldn’t allow her to put herself in danger because of him. He didn’t yet know who the target was—himself or Bradlee—but the fact remained that she could have been killed last night. Or at the very least, seriously injured; and that just wasn’t acceptable. David had to do whatever he could to protect her, and that meant sending her way.

  She wouldn’t want to go, of course. Especially not after they’d made love, but David would somehow have to convince her it was in his best interests that she return to L.A.

  And, he thought grimly, there was only one way to do that.

  * * *

  WHEN BRADLEE AWAKENED she was alone in her bed. She sat up, reaching for her nightgown. “David?”

  “Out here.”

  She slipped the nightgown over her head and stepped onto the balcony. “What are you doing?”

  “Thinking.” He was perched on the railing, staring into the darkness. When she approached him, he put an arm around her shoulders, but there was no warmth in the touch.

  Bradlee shivered. “What are you thinking about?”

  He glanced at her then, but she couldn’t read his expression in the darkness. “About everything. Us. What happened earlier.”

  “Oh, no,” Bradlee said, a sinking sensation in her stomach. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”

  “What?”

  “You regret it. It never should have happened. It was all a mistake.”

  “Bradlee, it was.” His voice was gentle, but that did little to assuage the disappointment, the pain that tore through her.

  She took a step back from him. “How can you say that? It was wonderful. It was—”

  “Fireworks? Explosions? The earth moved?”

  She hated the cynical tone in his voice. “For me, it was,” she said softly.

  He was silent for a moment. “Look, I’ll admit it was great for me, too. But it doesn’t—”

  “Mean anything?” It was her turn to finish his sentence.

  “Not the way you want it to.” He straightened from the railing and came toward her. She could suddenly see his expression in the moonlight, and Bradlee shivered again. His eyes were dark and shuttered, not at all what she’d hoped to see.

  “I told you once before, I don’t believe in fairy tales and destiny and all that stuff you talk about. You’ve built a fantasy in your head, kept it alive all these years by hoping Adam Kingsley would someday come back and sweep you off your feet. When you look at me, you don’t see the man I really am. You see the fantasy. The man you want me to be.”

  Bradlee shook her head. “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?” His gaze hardened. “Then why did you call me Adam?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. At a…shall we say…critical moment earlier you called out Adam’s name.”

  Bradlee started to deny it again, but then she stopped. Had she called him Adam?

  As if sensing her hesitation, he said, “Bradlee, I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t give you what you want right now. I just got out of one entanglement. I don’t need another.”

  Was that all he thought she was? An “entanglement”?

  She drew her fingers through her hair. “That didn’t seem to stop you earlier,” she said angrily.

  “No, but it should have. I can’t deal with a relationship right now. There’s too much happening in my life. I have to have some space.”

  “Meaning?” She followed him back inside the room, watched him walk toward the door.

  He turned, his expression resolved. “Meaning I think you should go back to L.A. Give us some time apart. Maybe that’ll put everything into perspective for you. At any rate, I’ll be going back to New York in a few weeks and…” He trailed off with a shrug.

  “We may as well end it now, right?” Bradlee marveled at how calm she sounded, how in control she appeared when her life was crumbling around her. She was in love with a man who didn’t love her. Who didn’t even want her around. What did that say about her?

  “Look, it’s for the best,” he said at the door. “Once you get back to Los Angeles, you’ll probably agree with me.”

  Bradlee folded her arms and glared at him. “Maybe I already do.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. Was it disappointment? Pain?

  Wishful thinking, Bradlee told herself. Because in the next instant, he turned and walked out the door without looking back.

  * * *

  BRADLEE DIDN’T GO BACK to bed after David left, but sat up instead and tried to figure out what had gone wrong. She was hurt, angry, and not a little embarrassed, but she wouldn’t give in to those emotions. Not just yet. What she had to do now was decide her next move.

  Sometime just before dawn, she realized there was actually very little she could do. This was David’s home now, and he’d asked her to leave. She’d become an unwelcome guest, and Bradlee had enough pride left not to hang around where she wasn’t wanted.

  She would go away quietly, with dignity, she decided. Like any good guardian angel who’d overstayed her usefulness.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, David decided he’d better figure out a way to avoid Bradlee while still keeping an eye on her. He couldn’t be sure how much danger she was in, or whether he himself might be the target, but he knew he would breathe a lot easier once she was on a plane back to L.A. Having to witness the pain in her eyes last night was a pretty big price to pay for his own peace of mind, but no price was too high for her safety.

  To her credit, she hadn’t broken down last night when he’d told her he wanted her to leave. She hadn’t made accusations or threats as some women would have done, nor had she ranted and raved, though he knew she’d been angry.

  What she had done was agree that he could be right. Once she got away from him, she might find she was over him. Might even find there’d been nothing there to begin with.

  That still smarted, David had to admit, but he couldn’t blame her. He’d been deliberately cold and callous, and she’d had no way of knowing his real motive.

  He walked out into the gardens, where he could see the front drive. If anyone came in, he wanted to know about it.

  He’d been outside for about fifteen minutes when his cell phone rang. He flipped it open and lifted it to his ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Adam Kingsley?”

  David frowned. �
�Who is this?”

  “Don’t you recognize my voice, boy?”

  It came to him then. “Colter.”

  “Don’t hang up. I used my weekly phone privilege to call you.”

  “What do you want?” David asked impatiently. He wasn’t about to hang up, but he wouldn’t let Colter know that.

  “You still want to talk?”

  “I might.”

  Colter paused. “Bring some cash. We’ll see if we can cut a deal.”

  He hung up before David could query him further, but the first question that came to mind was how the hell Colter had gotten his cell-phone number.

  David stared up at the mansion, thinking. It would take him hours to make the drive up to the penitentiary and back. He wouldn’t be here to watch out for Bradlee until she got on a plane. Something about this whole setup didn’t smell right, but then again, if Colter was willing to talk, David wanted to listen.

  He put in a call to Sergeant Packer, but was told he’d stepped away from his desk for a minute. David left his name and number and a message for Packer to call him as soon as possible.

  Then he went around the house to the garages, got into his Thunderbird, and drove off.

  * * *

  BRADLEE’S FATHER DIDN’T seem surprised that she was leaving town.

  “That’s probably for the best, darlin’,” he said, ordering them both a drink.

  It was a little early in the day for Bradlee, but when the waiter set her glass of wine in front of her, she took a sip and grimaced.

  “Where’s Crystal today?”

  “She’s out shopping with a friend.” Her father glanced away, looking guilty.

  “Dad, is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Her father sighed. “Never could hide anything from you, could I, darlin’? You’re like your mother in that regard.”

  “So out with it,” Bradlee said.

  “Crystal’s with Rachel Hollingsworth.”

  Bradlee’s mouth dropped open. “Crystal knows Rachel?”

  “Not exactly. I mean, she does now.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m the one who called Rachel and told her about the party. Told her about you and David.”