Born in Mystery

by Susan Kearney

  “Moving the story from book format to the big screen has its own difficulties. Do you think I should wait until after the kid’s born and the mother becomes attached? Or would it be worse if I poisoned the mother slowly? I was cleaning the autopsy room at the hospital last week and overheard the forensics guys speculating. Certain poisons in small doses pass through the placenta and kill the fetus without the mother being permanently harmed.”

  Kendrick’s bowling ball veered to the left and struck light on the head pin, leaving two pins standing. He picked up the spare on his second ball before returning.

  “Bianca, your face is as white as chalk dust. You know the story. What’s wrong? You never minded me talking about the grisly stuff before.”

  Craig rubbed her arm. Bianca spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ve never been pregnant before.”

  “Oh, gosh.” Kendrick reddened, looking from her to Craig and then at her still-flat stomach. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say something? I wouldn’t have asked you to come back if . . .”

  Craig glared.

  Kendrick kept talking. “I mean, I don’t care whether you got knocked up. Just get rid of it, and I’ll take you back.”

  Bianca gasped. “I couldn’t—”

  “I don’t think the lady’s interested.” Craig contained his sudden longing to smash Kendrick’s gleaming white teeth down his throat. While he wasn’t worried about controlling his violent urge, that he even considered going to such extremes was unsettling. “Did you ever think she’d rather have a baby than you?”

  “I—I . . .” Kendrick stammered. “I’m not into having a family. Bianca knows that. Creativity demands that I focus on my work.”

  “Well then, we’ll leave you to it,” Craig said grimly, letting none of his thoughts about rearranging Kendrick’s face show on his own.

  Bianca breathed deeply. “Hey, let’s not forget why we’re here. Besides, I’m okay. That stuff he said about killing the fetus kind of got to me. I’d forgotten that aspect of the plot. Must be the hormones.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Craig said. “My stomach curdled, and I’m not pregnant.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You don’t understand. Kendrick always talks out his plots with me.”

  “Not anymore, he doesn’t.”

  Her eyes pleaded with him to calm down. “This is the first time I reacted that way, so don’t blame him, okay?”

  As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Kendrick jerked his head toward the lane. “You going to take your turn or what?”

  Craig massaged Bianca’s neck with one hand, “I’m going to make sure Bianca is all right. Feel free to take my turn.”

  He supposed he should have been shocked when Kendrick did just that.

  “Are you okay?” Craig asked Bianca, pleased when color returned to her face.

  “Kendrick’s embarrassed. He doesn’t know how to apologize.”

  “The brilliant writer has never heard the words ‘I’m sorry’?” Craig rubbed her neck and her shoulders, marveling at the silky smoothness of her skin. “Do you always make excuses for him?”

  Bianca bit her bottom lip. “Is that what I was doing?”

  She stared down the bowling lane absently. At first, he thought she was watching Kendrick, but as Craig peered into her eyes, he changed his mind. She wasn’t looking at Kendrick; she was looking through him.

  What was going through her head? Was she reevaluating her relationship? Questioning past judgments? Reliving conversations? He knew the routine. How many times had he wished he could recant an impatient word that he’d spoken to Linda? Why hadn’t he given her more of his time?

  He recalled all the times she had come into his home office to tell him he’d been working too long, too late. He hadn’t heeded her wishes often enough. They’d had so little time together, and he’d spent the years building the import side of his business, often traveling, always working. He’d been out to conquer the world. So many possibilities, so much to do. He’d always thought he could slow down later, spend more time with her later.

  He wouldn’t make those mistakes again. Not since he’d discovered the possessive nature of his feelings toward Bianca. Not only did he intend to protect his babies, he vowed to spend time getting to know her better.

  Starting with her lips. He knew just what to do with those slightly parted lips. Nip them, tease them, coax them until she yielded.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t stand to share her any longer with her ex-boyfriend in the smoke-filled bowling alley. He wanted to go someplace fresh and clean.

  He glanced at her. “Why don’t we get out of here? I’ve heard enough.”

  She averted her gaze, but steely determination entered her whisper. “Not yet. I want to know where Kendrick was the day I was attacked in the park.” Did her statement suggest she suddenly saw Kendrick in a new light? Or was she simply trying to prove to Craig that Kendrick wasn’t stalking her?

  When she asked Kendrick his whereabouts that day, he couldn’t remember. Either the man was the best liar Craig had ever seen, or he was telling the truth and really couldn’t remember, or he had a split personality. Craig found all three possibilities disturbing.

  As they removed their rented bowling shoes, Kendrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “Harry Pibbs is looking for you. He called me last week.”

  Curious. Why would her former boss be calling her old boyfriend?

  “What did he want?” Bianca asked.

  “Don’t know,” Kendrick mumbled, barely looking away from his score.

  Maybe Bianca was right. The man didn’t know how to apologize. When he wasn’t bragging about his work, he certainly was the awkward toad in social situations.

  Kendrick shrugged. “You know I never answer the phone when I’m working. Harry left this message on my voicemail. He said you should call him back. He said it was urgent.”

  THE VISIT WITH Kendrick had sapped Bianca’s energy. She pretended to nod off, and Craig drove straight home. She couldn’t blame her fatigue on her pregnancy. She knew better. Seeing Kendrick again had forced her to relive her old fear that she wasn’t worthy of being loved. Every time she’d glanced at Craig and found his speculative gaze on her had increased her discomfort.

  Sure, Kendrick had asked her to come back to him, but he hadn’t blinked an eye when she’d changed the subject instead of answering. He didn’t really want her, not enough to fight for her, not enough to try to convince her to stay. Certainly not enough for him to make an effort to talk about more than his favorite topic—himself. Craig’s witnessing the entire scene had made her humiliation complete.

  Why had she put up with Kendrick’s self-absorbed idiosyncrasies? What was lacking in her that she’d sought his approval?

  Ever since her parents died, Bianca had felt guilty. If only she’d been good, God wouldn’t have taken them away from her. Then her grandfather died, and she knew she had to be the best little girl in the world or she’d lose Gran, too. As an adult, she knew her childhood fears were irrational. But she couldn’t erase the years of trying to be perfect. If she was good enough, nothing bad would happen. If she was good enough, Kendrick would have paid more attention to her, loved her.

  After Kendrick, she’d known she would never marry. She’d given all she had to the relationship, and her efforts had fallen painfully, humiliatingly short. She hadn’t trusted her judgment and believed that every man would leave her—just as her parents and grandfather had, just as Kendrick had let her go, just as Craig would once he got what she had to give him—his babies.

  But Craig had made her reevaluate.

  She now realized that she’d confused being good with doing what other people wanted. Putting other people’s wishes before her own. If she and Kendrick hadn’t broken up, there’d be nothing of herself
left.

  At least Craig was honest with her. He might be physically attracted to her, but he’d made his priority clear from the start. His first concern was for his babies. He’d only put up with her until she delivered his children, then she’d be a footnote in his life.

  She hadn’t been as honest with him. Her stomach knotted. There was no telling how he’d react when he found out what she’d done. Deception didn’t come easy to her—certainly not without piles of guilt. Of course, after he had the babies he wanted so desperately, her lies wouldn’t matter.

  Thankfully, once they reached Craig’s house, he didn’t question her about her past. After they went inside, he left her in privacy to call her former boss, Harry, while he went upstairs and changed, then escaped to the backyard pool.

  After her chat with Harry, she’d fully intended to go upstairs to her room and sleep. She knew, though, that Craig had to be curious about her conversation, and she could use his clearheaded logic to help mull over what Harry had said, so she joined Craig by the pool.

  The sun had set. A neighbor’s late-dinner barbecue with its pleasant scent of steaks smoking on the grill accompanied the chirp of crickets. Bianca settled onto a lounge chair and waited for Craig to surface in the pool, appreciative of the underwater lights that highlighted his silhouette.

  He swam with long, powerful strokes, his legs churning bubbles. Breaking the surface with his back to her, he sneaked a breath and dived under, frolicking like a dolphin and as at home in the water as a shark.

  The disparity of the two images—dolphin and shark—weren’t contradictory in Craig Braddack. He knew how to play, yet he never lost a razor-sharp edge that could take him to the top of his chosen field. Although he’d rarely mentioned his business, she sensed that after his wife died, his business goals had taken a back seat to his grief. Knowing he needed to provide for the children had spurred him on to rebuild his life.

  He burst to the surface, spied her and waved. “Come on in.”

  Baring all the skin a swimsuit revealed would set the wrong tone for the conversation she had in mind. Besides, she’d exposed enough of herself to him today. To be close was to invite rejection. “No, thanks. Just watching you tired me out.”

  To her relief, he didn’t insist but swam to the edge. “How are you feeling? You looked tapped out in the car.”

  “I’m fine now.”

  Craig flattened his hands on the pool deck and, in one easy motion, pulled himself out of the water. She looked away from all his rippling bronzed flesh, but not before the image seared into her brain and heated her face.

  Backlit by the blue water of the pool, he cut a dashing image of broad shoulders, muscular biceps and firm pecs. A sudden nebulous desire rose in her—to be close, to touch—a childish longing honed by a woman’s sensuality.

  Craig plucked a towel from the back of a chair. The clean scent of him wafted to her on a soft breeze and stirred the curly hairs that undulated with each movement of his arm. She ached to smooth his tangled hair from his eyes, take the towel from his hands and dry him. Slowly. Sensuously.

  Keeping her gaze above his flat waist proved impossible. He wore a black, itty-bitty swimsuit that covered him just enough to fire her imagination.

  Closing the distance between them, he wrapped the towel around his waist, pulled up a chair and took her hand.

  She wished she could pull her hand back without causing a fuss. His touch had her feeling trapped and antsy and turned on. The heat in his eyes told her he was noticing her like a man who wanted a woman. And he was all man. An enticing, undeniably sexy man.

  He was too close for her not to inhale the mingled scent of chlorine and masculine male power. His bare chest, broad shoulders and muscular thighs had her swallowing hard. The heat from his touch traveled up her arm and down into the pit of her stomach. He focused a sudden interest on her mouth.

  Slowly he dipped his head.

  He was going to kiss her.

  He stopped with his mouth just an inch from hers.

  Oh my. He was waiting. Giving her the opportunity to pull back. She told herself to do just that. But his compelling eyes held her trapped. Mesmerized.

  Then his lips claimed hers tenderly, gently, coaxing and teasing until she leaned into him. As if sensing the exact moment she surrendered to her racing desire, he pulled her onto his lap, deepening the kiss.

  Her hands wound around his neck until her fingers threaded his thick, wet hair. His chest was damp and hot, his kiss both more intense and more gentle than she’d expected.

  The biggest surprise was that her nerves pulsed with excitement. For once, she wasn’t worried if she pleased a man. She wasn’t concerned if their noses bumped or whether she’d just brushed her teeth.

  She was too busy savoring the out-of-control tingling beneath her skin. Puzzled and a bit afraid of the intense fire he’d kindled in her belly, she jerked back. “I need to tell you about Harry.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her again. “Tell me later.”

  She braced her palm on his naked chest and allowed herself to look up at him, almost wishing she didn’t have to. His chest was solid muscle, and tiny chest hairs tickled her palm. Up close, she could see the light in his dark gray eyes and a soft smile caressing his mouth. He looked like a man who knew far too much about women, far too much about her.

  She held his gaze, didn’t even blink. “This is important.”

  He shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting in amused resignation. “So what did Harry say?”

  “He was concerned when I didn’t cash my last paycheck.” Before Craig could ask, she explained, “I was afraid to return to my apartment. I couldn’t have the mail forwarded out of fear the stalker might trace me.”

  “Did Harry mention where he was the day the biker attacked you?”

  Talking to him while he sat there bare-chested, wasn’t easy, especially after he’d just kissed her and heated her blood. “Harry said he worked right through the lunch hour. It’s doubtful anyone was with him during that time. We’d usually let the service pick up the messages while the secretaries all lunched out together.”

  “So he doesn’t have an alibi, either.”

  She rubbed her chin. “Unless he answered the phone. I suppose I could check with the service tomorrow.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So Harry called Kendrick just to find out where you were?”

  “Kendrick misled us. Harry called him, but when Kendrick didn’t answer, he never left a message. Instead, Kendrick went to talk with Harry in person.”

  “Kendrick lied?”

  She shrugged. “More like he omitted the truth.”

  “So Kendrick visited Harry the same day you were attacked in the park.”

  “Yes, but don’t jump to conclusions. Kendrick has always been a little strange.”

  One brow shot skyward. “A little? Don’t you think it odd Kendrick omitted telling you he visited Harry?”

  “Odd, yes. Maybe he cares about me more than he’s willing to admit. That could be why he didn’t tell us he went to see Harry.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Maybe Kendrick didn’t want to appear as if he missed me.”

  Craig snorted. “Kendrick is not a man who cares much about appearances. What else did Harry say?”

  She didn’t want to tell him. She hated revealing her past to Craig for analysis. Not only was her privacy invaded, she felt uncomfortable seeing her relationship through his eyes. Yet he had a right to know, though she could put off the worst of the news for a few moments more.

  “Harry was looking for me for several reasons. One was the check I never cashed. The second was his worry over me. And last, he wanted to invite me to a party.”

  Craig’s eyes narrowed, and his voice hardened as if they’d never shared that ki
ss. “What did you say?”

  She avoided a direct answer, picking a spot past his ear to stare at while refusing to let her gaze follow the trickle of water from his forehead. “Every year, the firm throws a bash for its employees, clients and suppliers. Anyone Harry owes a favor to is invited.”

  Craig frowned. “You don’t work there anymore.”

  “Harry hoped to lure me back. He reminded me that I could still work for him part-time while I attend law school at night.”

  “Yeah, your Gran mentioned that. Just another thing you forgot to tell me about.”

  She winced at the sarcasm in Craig’s tone then gathered her courage to look him straight in the eye. “I was accepted into Stanford.”

  “You couldn’t swing the finances with Gran’s bills,” he guessed, his tone sympathetic.

  “So I’ve been taking some night classes part time. Gran doesn’t know. I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention it to her.”

  “I won’t.” He leaned forward and took her hand, his thumb caressing her palm in a sensual gesture that had her senses thrumming. “You can’t accept Harry’s party invitation.”

  “Why not? It’s the perfect opportunity to ask questions.”

  “Are you crazy? You can’t put my children in jeopardy.”

  “My living in fear for the next eight months isn’t good for the babies, either.”

  “But—”

  “Look, if I go to the party, we might flush out the stalker. And you’ll be there to protect me.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “You’re not going.”

  She ignored the worry lines radiating from his eyes, the edge in his tone and her churning stomach. “I told Harry I’d bring you as my date.”

  Chapter Six

  AFTER BIANCA USED the shock of her news to slip away, Craig allowed her to escape to her room with a soft goodnight. She’d looked sad after seeing Kendrick, but their kiss had put a snap in her step and a sparkle in her eyes. Between her high-voltage kiss that left him aching to accompany her to bed and the bomb she’d just dropped, he was a bit shell-shocked.