The Baby Gift

He wasn’t ready to tell her about his days in Asheville. He needed time to analyze her angle before revealing any chinks in his armor. “They’re not common. Which is all the more reason why I’d remember fathering a child, particularly if the relationship was as serious as you’re suggesting.” There was another factor insuring that Nick couldn’t be his. “I’m also scrupulous about practicing safe sex. I don’t consider it a woman’s sole responsibility and never have.”

“Nor do you trust women enough to allow them to take the responsibility.”

Her words had a flat finality that stopped him cold. “How do you know that?”

“Your youngest brother, Pietro, made that mistake. Your niece, Toni, is the result. And even though Pietro married Toni’s momma and their marriage has been a lovin’ one, you were determined not to allow a similar accident to happen to you. At least, that’s what you told Meg.” Her mouth curved into a bittersweet smile. “I guess you could say fate has a flair for the ironic.”

Once again he felt a disturbing familiarity with the name. “Is that you? You’re Meg?”

She hesitated for so long, he didn’t think she’d answer. “I’m Lauren Williams,” she eventually said, her voice rife with a bone-deep exhaustion. “Meg is…was my sister.”

“Was?”

Lauren’s obvious distress aroused another surge of the protective instinct he’d experienced earlier. What was it about her that cut through the defenses he’d built over the years? Her waiflike appearance? His appreciation for the inherent strength that underscored her every word and action? Or was it simply a gut-level attraction to her as a woman?

“My sister died a few months ago, remember? I mentioned it earlier.”

“Right. I’m sorry.” He didn’t want to push when she was so obviously upset, but he didn’t have any choice. “I assume she’s the one who told you I’m Nick’s father.”

“Yes.”

“Is there any possibility she’s mistaken?” He couldn’t think of a more tactful way to phrase the question.

She acknowledged the effort with a slight smile. “None.”

Alessandro frowned as another thought occurred to him. “You said we’d met. When was that?”

“My sister and I were together that first day. You and Meg hit it off from the start.”

“Where was this?”

“At a small restaurant tucked in the foothills outside of Asheville. A place called LuLu’s.”

He shook his head in frustration. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Do you have any way at all of substantiating your claim?”

She paused again and he knew without a doubt that she was keeping something from him. She’d hesitated like that once before, but he couldn’t remember what question he’d asked at the time. He’d make damned sure he paid attention from here on out.

“The blood test will substantiate my claim. You don’t need more than that.”

Need or deserve? Alessandro couldn’t help but wonder. He thrust a hand through his hair and paced toward the hearth. The fire licked hungrily at the logs he’d added. The ruby embers beneath the grate hissed, relieved by an occasional pop and the accompanying shower of sparks. Lauren acted so certain, he had the nasty suspicion she might be telling the truth—at least, the truth as she knew it. He glanced uneasily at the boy who was sitting on the floor by the carton of toys, examining each and every one of them with an intentness surprising in one so young. Could Nick actually be his? Could he have a son?

He dismissed the possibility with a quick shake of his head. No. No way. For one thing, he didn’t go in for one-night stands—or even two-week stands. And for another, Lauren was right. He didn’t take foolish chances or trust his partner to handle something as vital as birth control. If he’d been with this Meg, he’d have taken precautions. Children weren’t in the foreseeable future—at least, not in his foreseeable future.

He swung around to face Lauren. “So what now?”

“I’m hopin’ you’ll want to get to know your son.” She smiled at the boy with a tenderness that transfigured her. With that simple curve of her lips she went from elf to angel. “A boy should be close to his father.”

“And if the test proves I’m not Nick’s father?”

She didn’t appear concerned by the possibility. “That’s not going to happen. Even if you don’t believe me, look at him. He’s the image of you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “He looks like a typical baby. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t bear any resemblance to a baby whatsoever.”

The corners of her mouth trembled into another smile and a soft, silvery laugh escaped. “No, you don’t. I was referring to the shape of his face and color of his hair and eyes. They’re the same pitch-black as yours.”

“I’m not the only man in the world with dark eyes.”

She sighed. “True. That’s why I’m suggesting a paternity test. That way you’ll know for certain.”

“I’ll need to make some calls to find out where we can have the procedure done.”

“If it’s too far away, it’ll have to wait,” she informed him. “I still need to have someone fix my car. And to be honest, I’m exhausted.”

She looked it, too. Not that he’d allow sympathy to interfere with his handling of the situation. Something didn’t add up and until he found out what, he refused to trust anything she said. “I gather that means your car really did break down? It wasn’t just an excuse?”

“It pulled into your driveway on a hope and a prayer. It won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Convenient.”

He’d succeeded in angering her. Just as well. Having her angry would make it easier for him to maintain an emotional distance. After all, he’d had years of experience being the calm in the midst of unending storms of passion. If there were two qualities Salvatores were renowned for, it was passion and charm, qualities that had both managed to pass him by. He’d found that the more worked up those around him became, the calmer his own reactions. If Lauren chose to respond like a Salvatore, it would make his job all the easier.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s not the least bit convenient,” she retorted. “I can’t even drive myself to the store for food or diapers.”

“In that case, I hope you have enough to last the next couple of days.”

“Why?”

“Because neither of us are leaving here anytime soon.”

She darted to the window and stared out, her dismay obvious. “I can’t even see my car.”

“If I were a suspicious man, I’d say your timing was opportune.”

“You are a suspicious man and my timing was lousy,” she informed him absently.

She knew he was a suspicious man? An ungovernable annoyance flashed through him and he released his breath in a silent sigh. So much for being the dispassionate Salvatore. “If you intend to keep up the pretense that we’ve met before, it’s going to be a long couple of days.”

“Pretense?” Lauren turned to face him. She was framed by the window and backlit by a tempest of snow swirling on savage eddies of wind. He had trouble reading her expression, but not the indignation of her tone. “It’s not a pretense.”

“So you’ve said. Time will tell.” He inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Come on. I missed out on a cup of coffee earlier. I suspect we could both use a cup now.”

“First I’d like to unload the car. It’s been a while since I last changed Nick.” At the sound of his name, the boy glanced up from the toys spread around him and beamed. She returned his grin with one of her own. Alessandro couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable resemblance between them. They both shared the same wide, generous mouth that slid into a smile with a natural ease he envied. “He’s also going to be hungry for a snack soon.”

“Any snacks you left in the car will be frozen by now. You’ll have to see if I have anything that will do.”

“In that case, let’s hope you have yogurt with fruit in it. Nick likes it mixed in with just about everything he eats.”

“Everything? You’re kidding.”

“’Fraid not.” She ticked off on her fingers. “He eats peach yogurt with his applesauce. Raspberry yogurt with peas. Strawberry-banana yogurt with chicken. As long as there’s yogurt mixed in with his meal, down it goes, slick as pig grease.”

“Yogurt and chicken? That’s disgusting.”

“Not according to your son.”

Damn. It only took a brief two-minute conversation for her to slip beneath his defenses and bewitch him into relaxing his guard. How the hell had she pulled that off? No one had ever managed it in such a short time. Not even Rhonda. “Don’t call him that.”

“What? Your son?” Her jaw jutted out at a defiant angle. “Facts are facts, Alessandro. That’s who Nick is. Protesting the truth isn’t going to change it any.”

“His paternity hasn’t been established to my satisfaction.”

“Maybe not, but the test will take care of that minor detail. Meanwhile, I suggest you start getting used to the idea.”

“Wrong. What we’re going to do is take this situation one step at a time. No games. No assumptions. And no great leaps of faith. Until I have positive proof in hand, we keep this as impersonal as possible.”

She stared at him in stunned disbelief. Then the corners of her eyes crinkled and her mouth tilted into a broad, quivering grin. “Oh, Alessandro. I should have known. Any other Salvatore would have taken one look at Nicky and allowed emotion to take over.”

“I’m not like the others.”

“True. But you’d begun to change. You were learning. The weeks you spent with Meg opened you up. It was quite amazing to watch. Maybe if you’d stayed longer in North Carolina, the changes would have taken.” She caught her lip between her teeth. “Maybe Meg would have made more of an impact.”

“Don’t count on it.”

She held up her hands in casual surrender, though he could tell his words had impacted harder than he’d intended. He’d have to be more cautious in the future. There was a difference between disengaging his emotions and acting like a coldhearted bastard. “All right, fine. If you’d rather keep your distance from your—” She broke off with a rueful shrug. “From Nick? Feel free. He’s young enough that it won’t do him any lasting harm, especially so long as I’m here to give him as much love and attention as he could want. The one you’ll be hurtin’ most is yourself.”

“Another of your Southern homilies?” No doubt they were as much a part of her as her pride and the mountain spirit that imbued her with its essence. “Just what I need. A pint-size sprite without funds or a roof over her head landing on my doorstep and taking it upon herself to lecture me about my familial obligations and emotional welfare.”

“Oh, I don’t think the South has exclusive claim on that particular homily.” She poked her index finger in his direction. “And I may be a pint-size woman without kith or kin, other than Nick, but at least I have my priorities straight—family first, last and in between. And at least I’m not hiding here when I should be with my relatives. Nor am I withholding my emotions from an innocent child.”

“A child who might not be my son.”

Her eyes flashed from a soft, powder-blue to an electric color that blazed with incandescent heat. “Why should that even matter? Do you only parcel out your affection to those you deem worthy? It can’t possibly be because you’re not sure whether or not he’s true family. Family doesn’t matter to you all that much, or you’d be with them, especially at this time of year.”

An unaccustomed anger ripped through him. “Drop it, Lauren. It’s none of your business.”

“It is when it affects Nick. He deserves better than what you have to offer.” Her voice softened and she held out a hand in appeal. “Where’s your heart, Alessandro? What happened to the man I knew in North Carolina? How could you have forgotten your weeks there? It meant something to you. I know it did.”

He refused to explain, refused to believe the man she described even existed. “Assuming you’re telling me the truth, that Alessandro is lost. He has been for a long time.”

She flinched from his words, rejecting them with a quick, adamant shake of her head. “I can’t accept that.”

“You’re going to have to.”

She fought an internal battle, one he’d have given a hefty share of his bank balance to have listened in on. Was she going to call an end to this game? Or was she trying to determine her next line of attack? Once she realized emotional blackmail didn’t work, perhaps she’d employ logic. Or maybe she’d wrap her arms around him and slip her wide, generous mouth over his. He closed his eyes. Oh, man. He definitely needed that coffee.

Finally, she gave a brisk nod. “I guess that’s that. If you can’t—or won’t—remember, I have no choice.”

He’d regret asking this next question, but he asked anyway. “No choice about what?”

“I’m gonna find what you lost. I’m going to dig around until I uncover that other Alessandro.”

Aw, hell. “No, Lauren. You’re not.”

“Oh, it’s not for your sake.” Determination settled over her. “Nick needs a daddy who can love him. He deserves to have the man I met in North Carolina. And I’m not leaving here until that’s what he gets.”

CHAPTER THREE

Six days before Christmas…

SHE came to him again, all silk and sweetness and heady feminine perfume. They were outside in the snow, playing in the drifts like children. He could hear his own laughter, deep and clear, ringing through the crisp mountain air. She’d done that for him, he realized in amazement. She’d returned to him the joy of laughter. It had been a long time since he’d taken pleasure in the sheer simplicity of such a fundamental act.

She peeked at him from behind the trunk of an ancient oak, its mighty limbs bearing the hint of newborn leaves through the dusting of winter’s last snow. She called to him. And finally, finally, he could hear her lilting voice. It joined them on some level, resonated straight through to the core of him, softening the hardness within and connecting with the most elemental part of his spirit. It was the voice of the mountains, rolling and proud and solid, and silvered with a generous helping of humor.

“Time’s a’wastin’, boy. Catch me if you can.”

“Who are you calling boy?” he demanded, charging after her.

Her bright laughter snagged at a place that had once held his heart, filling it, expanding it, inflaming it. The chase didn’t last long. He captured her in his arms and they tumbled into a bed of powder-soft snow. Her long, cornsilk hair spread around her in a halo of rosy-gold, framing Rhonda’s bold, handsome features and distinctive hazel eyes.

“Home is where your heart is, darlin’,” she whispered. “Where do you keep your heart?”

“You’ll always have it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And you’ll always have mine.”

She lifted her mouth to his and he was helpless to resist. He wanted her. Needed her.

Took her.

Alessandro awoke with a start, the fragments of his dream clinging with relentless determination. He groaned. Rhonda again. It defied understanding—not just because he continued to dream about a woman he hadn’t loved in years, but also because the events in his dreams had never happened. It took a full minute to separate fantasy from reality and realize what had disturbed his sleep.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.