Книга - Who’s The Daddy?

Who's The Daddy?
Judy Christenberry


Could an expectant mother really forget who fathered her baby?When Caroline Adkins woke in a hospital bed with amnesia, she received startling news–she was pregnant! She couldn't remember one single night of passion…yet three different men were claiming paternity!Sexy stranger Max Daniels was the only man not previously acquainted with her powerful family. But one look into his eyes and Caroline started to fall for him, even though he was the least likely daddy-hopeful. Meantime, her family was arranging her marriage to a man with more proof….Caroline was headed toward the altar with the seemingly right daddy–but the wrong man. Could she and Max prove his paternity– in time to stop her wedding?









People were crowding around her hospital bed…


And Caroline didn’t recognize a soul!

“I thought she was okay,” said a man in blue jeans.

Caroline couldn’t help but admit her attraction to him—and she liked the anxious look he sent the doctor.

“She is,” the doctor returned. “But with the baby…”

Baby? Caroline’s hand shot to her stomach. She was pregnant! She couldn’t be. Could she? Oh dear, what had she gotten herself into? And with whom?

A look at the shocked faces told her that no one had known.

“I demand to know who the father is!” the eldest man present suddenly shouted.

With that tone, Caroline was pretty sure he was her father.

“Who?” he repeated.

Then three men stepped forward. In unison, as if rehearsed, they all said, “I am.”




Who’s the Daddy?

Judy Christenberry







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for more than nineteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers do. A former French teacher, Judy now devotes herself to writing full-time. She hopes readers have as much fun with her stories as she does. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy lives in Texas.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE




CHAPTER ONE


“MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, on line one.”

James Adkins, one of the wealthiest men in Denver, reared back in his chair, ran a hand through his gray hair, slammed his bifocals onto the table and glared at his secretary. “I told you I was not to be disturbed.”

“Yes, sir, but it’s Caroline. She’s in the hospital.”

“That girl of mine is always running around getting involved in causes. Tell her we’ll discuss it over dinner.” He turned away, assurance in every ounce of him that he’d be obeyed. After all, he always was.

“Sir,” the secretary persisted, desperation in her voice, “she’s there as a patient.”

He turned to stare at her, his frown of impatience turning to deeper emotion. “What? That’s ridiculous. I saw her this morning.”

“There was an accident,” the secretary said quickly.

James Adkins moved faster than one would have expected from his less than sleek figure, overweight from rich foods and no exercise. He grabbed the phone and barked into it. “Who’s speaking?”

The two men with whom he’d been meeting both stood and moved closer to the phone.

“She’s what?” Adkins shrieked, and then listened again. “Yes, yes, I’ll be right there! Yes, I’ll bring her mother.” He slammed down the receiver and looked at the two younger men, for the first time unsure of his actions.

“Caroline’s been in an accident. And…and she’s got amnesia.”

“Is she all right?” one of them asked.

“I just told you she has amnesia!” James snapped.

“But the accident— Is she hurt?”

“No, only bruised. Prescott, go to another phone and tell Lewis to bring the limo around. Adrian, you call Tucker and tell him he’ll have to wait on my decision. I’ve got to call her mother and Chelsea.”

As was their custom, the two men jumped to do his bidding. He growled to his secretary, “Find my wife. I believe she’s attending the symphony auxiliary this morning. I’ll try to reach my younger daughter.”

The woman scurried from the room, as if grateful to have escaped.

“Chelsea? This is your father. Are you dressed?”

“Hi, Daddy. No, I’m still resting. Expectant mothers should get lots of rest, you know. Roddy agrees with me.”

“I’m coming to pick you up. Your sister’s been in an accident. She’s not badly hurt, but she’s lost her memory. The doctor thinks familiar faces will bring it back.”

“But Daddy, why do I have to go? Pregnant mothers shouldn’t get upset or go to hospitals. They have germs there.”

“Chelsea, you have ten minutes to get ready. Don’t keep me waiting,” he warned in ominous tones.

“Your wife is on line two, sir,” the secretary said softly from the door.

James nodded and told his daughter goodbye in the midst of another protest.

“Amelia? Caroline’s okay but she’s been in an accident.”

“Oh, dear. But she’s all right?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Amelia might not be the perfect mother, but she loved her children. “Yes, well, she’s lost her memory. It’s temporary, of course, but—”

“Her memory? You mean she doesn’t remember who she is? That’s horrible. Why—why, she might think she’s some—some common woman, not—”

“Amelia! We’ll be there to pick you up in five minutes.”

“Pick me up?” she asked in puzzled tones.

“Yes, the doctor said you should come. It might help Caroline’s memory come back.”

“But—but I’m in the middle of my meeting. Couldn’t I come when I’m free? After all, I’m sure—”

“Five minutes, Amelia. I’ll come in and drag you out if you’re not waiting.”

“James!” Amelia squealed as he hung up the phone.

Damn females! They drove him crazy. First Caroline with her independence, then Amelia with her social life. And he didn’t know what to do about Chelsea.

He rushed out the door, hearing his secretary murmur, as he passed her, that the limo was waiting downstairs. Of course it was. The driver was a man and always did exactly what he was supposed to do. It was only females—three particular females—who gave James any difficulty.

When he reached the front door, he found both men who’d been in his office standing in front of the limo arguing.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I should come with you, James. After all, Caroline and I have been seeing quite a bit of each other, and I might be able to help,” Prescott Brownlee said at once.

“She was with me last night, at the opera ball,” Adrian Meadows inserted, stepping closer to his boss. “Since we were just together, she might remember me more. Besides, James, you may need some help with details.”

“Fine, both of you can come. I want her memory restored as soon as possible. I won’t tolerate anything less. She’s been acting strange lately. It’s time for things to get back to normal around here. You hear me?”

Both men nodded and stood at attention as he got into the limo, neither daring to suggest that some things might be beyond James Adkins’s control. They weren’t sure anything was. Then they quickly scrambled after him, each one trying to enter first.

As the limo pulled out into traffic, James clenched his hands into fists. “If either one of you had convinced Caroline to marry him, she’d be home having a baby, like Chelsea, instead of running around having accidents!”

Both men protested their innocence, each assuring James he’d done everything in his power to court Caroline.

“Last night she really enjoyed herself,” Adrian added, shooting a smug look at Prescott. “We danced all evening.”

“Did you ask her?”

All three men knew what James was referring to. Adrian met neither of the others’ gazes. “No. Uh, the time didn’t seem right. But I’m sure she’ll accept when I do.”

Prescott snorted in derision, a knowing look in his eyes. James ignored both of them. “She’ll make up her mind soon. I’ve sensed a readiness to settle down. We’ll get her memory back, and then she’ll marry one of you.”

Neither of them argued with him. But then they never did.



“COME ON, MAX, give us a break. You’ve driven the entire crew like they were dogs the past few weeks. And they’ve done a good job. Let’s give them tomorrow off, let’m have a four-day weekend for Labor Day.”

Max Daniels pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. His foreman, Jim Swensen, hadn’t lied. He’d been a bear to work for, and he knew it. “Okay. That’s a good idea, Jim. Give’m Friday off.”

Jim slapped him on his shoulder. “Great. The guys’ll be glad to hear it.” He paused and Max tensed for what would come next.

“You still don’t want to talk about what’s buggin’ you?”

He offered a brief smile to compensate for his negative answer. “No. But thanks for the offer. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“All right, man, but if you need to talk—”

“I’ll know where to find you. Thanks, Jim.”

Max watched as his foreman, also his best friend, headed toward the group of workers putting away their tools.

Slamming the truck in reverse, he backed out of the makeshift driveway, wanting to get away before any of the men came over to thank him for the extra holiday.

He knew he didn’t deserve their thanks. He’d been impossible to work with for two months. No question. But he couldn’t explain to them that he’d fallen in love and been abandoned by the woman with no explanation, no goodbye. One minute, bliss, the next, hell. And he was afraid that he’d demanded company in his personal hell, from everyone around him.

Man, he had to get a grip on himself. He’d never thought a woman would send him into such a tailspin. He still didn’t understand why. She was beautiful, but he’d dated women more beautiful. She was intelligent, charming, but no more so than others. Her sense of humor delighted him, making him eager to share the events of his day with her, waiting to hear her warm chuckles. Her kisses—

A blaring horn reminded him the light had turned green and he stepped on the accelerator. Just as well. No sense following that line of thought.

He reached for the radio, seeking distraction. It was five after five and the national news had just ended.

“Now, in local news, Caroline Adkins, daughter of—”

Max almost drove off the road. Horns blared around him and the woman behind him sailed past, shaking an angry fist.

He pulled to a stop, reaching for the volume knob.

“…in an accident. A Memorial Hospital spokesman said she will be kept overnight for observation.”

Without considering the consequences, he swung the truck back on the road and did an illegal U-turn at the next intersection. In two minutes, he was pulling into the parking lot at Memorial Hospital.

Please, God, let her be all right.

And if she was, he was going to break her neck for running out on the best thing that had ever happened to him.



“DID CAROLINE ASK to see me?” Amelia asked as the limo pulled into the hospital parking lot.

James sighed with impatience. “I told you, Amelia, she’s lost her memory.”

“Yes, dear, but if she didn’t ask for me, I don’t see why I couldn’t have come after my meeting ended. Agnes told me I shouldn’t always do whatever you say, you know.”

James and his second daughter, Chelsea, groaned together. “That woman,” James said through gritted teeth, “never agrees with me.”

“Well, I know Caro didn’t ask to see me,” Chelsea said before her mother could respond. Her lips formed into a pout that seemed natural. “She never even calls me. You would think, now that she’s to be an aunt, that she would show some interest in my baby.”

“She told me last night how excited she was about your baby,” Adrian assured Chelsea hurriedly, as if hoping to stem her complaints.

“Really? Well, she should spend more time with me, then,” Chelsea said.

The limo pulled to a stop, and the chauffeur opened the door. All three men hurried out and then turned to help the two women.

“I think we should tell the doctor that I’m pregnant before I go into Caro’s room, in case there could be any danger,” Chelsea continued as they approached the front doors.

“Amnesia isn’t contagious!” James snapped. He’d silently endured the complaints of both women for the length of the ride, but he was anxious for word of Caroline.

He would admit, though not to Amelia and Chelsea, that Caroline was his favorite. Not that they didn’t fight. On the contrary, Caroline argued with him at every turn. She was too much like him not to.

Chelsea was like her mother.

“Chelsea!” someone called, and they all halted.

Chelsea’s husband, Roderick Grant III, hurried up to them.

“What are you doing here?” James demanded. He didn’t have anything against the boy, but Roddy wouldn’t be of much help in a crisis.

“Daddy! Roddy’s my husband!”

“I know that. I paid for that damned wedding, didn’t I?” He muttered an apology when Chelsea and Amelia stared at him in shock. “I’m worried about Caroline,” he added.

“Of course, you are, sir,” Adrian said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Why don’t we go right up,” Prescott added. “I’ll find out her room number.”

“I know it. It’s 482,” James snapped, and strode for the elevators, leaving his entourage to hurry after him.

When they reached the fourth floor, the nurse on duty ushered all of them into the waiting room. “The doctor is with her now. I’ll let you know when you can go in.”

“Damn it, woman, I’m James Adkins. You go tell that doctor I want to see my child at once!” As the nurse calmly walked away, he bellowed, “Why won’t any woman listen to me?



“CAROLINE ADKINS, where can I find her?” Max had no idea how he’d gotten from the road outside the site to the hospital information desk.

“Is she a patient, sir?” the grandmotherly lady in a pink pinafore asked, smiling benignly at him.

“She was in an accident. They said they’re holding her for observation.”

“How would you spell that last name?”

Quelling the urge to grab the little old lady by the daintily tied bow at her neck, he spelled Caroline’s name.

“She’s on the fourth floor. Room 482.”

Max was running for the elevator before the lady ever finished talking. After stepping into the first one available, he jammed the close door button after punching the number four.

He’d find Caroline—and this time she wasn’t going to get away. Not until he had an explanation.

As soon as he got out of the elevator, he halted a nurse pushing a trolly of trays.

“Which way to 482?” he demanded.

“Just down the hall, sir.”

With a hurried thank-you, he followed her direction and spotted the room up ahead of him. He pushed past a small group of people and reached the door.

“Just one minute!”

He looked over his shoulder to see a large man in both height and girth staring at him. “Yes?”

“Where are you going?”

“What business is it of yours?” he demanded.

“That’s my daughter’s room.”

Max checked to see if he had the right room number. He did. “The desk said this was Caroline Adkins’s room. I think you’ve made a mistake.” He was sure Caroline didn’t have anyone close by, much less a mob of people.

“I don’t make mistakes!”

Max shrugged his shoulders and pushed open the door.

The man grabbed his arm before he could take more than a step into the room. “Who are you and why are you visiting my daughter? Are you the one who hit her?”

“I’m not visiting your daughter. I’m visiting Caroline Adkins,” Max explained impatiently. “If this isn’t her room—”

“Why would we come here if it’s not Caroline’s room?” Amelia asked plaintively.

“Sir, I think you’re making a mistake,” a younger man in an elegant business suit said, and Max glared at him. The young lady in the group began complaining about feeling faint. A man quickly supported her, and Max turned back toward the room only to find himself confronted by a man in a white coat.

“What is going on here?” he asked with quiet authority.

“I’m here to visit Caroline Adkins,” Max explained.

Immediately behind him, several voices both protested his visit and demanded information about Caroline. What was wrong with these people? Max couldn’t figure out why they were there. As far as he knew, Caroline had just moved to the area and had no one nearby.

“Quiet,” the doctor commanded. The one word quelled even the older man who’d been protesting his presence, Max noted.

“You may all see Caroline, but she has a headache. Please keep quiet and don’t ask her any questions.”

Max frowned. He could wait for his questions to be answered, as long as he didn’t lose her again. He couldn’t lose her again.



THE SUDDEN NOISE at the door of her room had increased the pain in her head. The nurse touched her shoulder and smiled, silently encouraging her to relax.

Oh, sure. It was easy for the nurse. She hadn’t lost her memory. She knew her name. And if she forgot, it was right there on her name tag.

The doctor had told her her name was Caroline. But there was no sense of recognition, no satisfaction. Just confusion. And, as much as she fought it, panic.

All she knew was what she’d been told since she’d awakened in the hospital. There’d been a wreck, a hit and run, and she’d smacked her head on the windshield even though she’d worn her seat belt. Her purse had been beside her, giving the doctor her name. He said he’d called her family.

If her family was making all the noise, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see them. At least not yet.

Suddenly her bed was surrounded by people.

People.

But no one she knew.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped she would recognize her family when they arrived until that moment. You’d think she could at least recall her parents. Even though she could identify the two likeliest suspects by their age, her mouth went dry at the blankness that filled her.

Her gaze shifted to the first one who’d entered, seeking a distraction. He was somehow different from the rest of them. Rugged. And very attractive. I don’t know who I am, but at least I know what I like.

She hurriedly looked away as a horrible thought struck her.

What if he was her brother?

The older man stepped forward and picked up her hand.

“Caroline, are you okay?”

She said faintly, “Yes, I’m fine.”

As if he didn’t believe her, he looked at the doctor.

“Are you Mr. Adkins?” the doctor asked. “Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Johansen. Your daughter is in good condition, considering the accident.”

“Fine, fine. When can I take her home?”

She couldn’t help the panicked gaze she sent to the doctor. These people were all strangers. She didn’t want to go with them.

Before the doctor could answer, the older lady pushed through the crowd to the side of the bed. “You’re fine, aren’t you, Caroline? I know you wouldn’t have asked me to leave my meeting. I told your father that, and Agnes agreed.”

The younger woman groaned. “Mother, do you have to repeat everything Agnes says? Besides, I’m the one who shouldn’t have come. After all, I’m expecting.”

Caroline frowned. The young lady announced her condition as if she were the first pregnant woman in the world. As her lips quirked slightly, Caroline discovered something new about herself. She had a sense of humor. Thank goodness. I’d hate to live with these people and not know how to laugh.

She looked at the four men who hadn’t spoken. Three of them were in expensive business suits. The other man, the one who’d first caught her attention, was dressed in jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He was slightly taller than the others, and his muscled figure was bronzed from the sun.

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, when the doctor said, “I understand how much you’d like to take her home at once, but, in her condition, I think we should keep her overnight for observation.”

“I thought you said she was okay,” the man in blue jeans snapped. Caroline liked the anxious look he sent the doctor.

“She is. But with the baby—”

“Oh, that’s all right. I don’t live at home anymore. She won’t bother me,” the young woman told the doctor with a superior air. “My husband and I have our own home, quite lovely, just a few blocks away from Daddy.”

Dr. Johansen looked nonplussed, the first time he’d been stumped since Caroline met him after she’d awakened. Finally he said, “I think you misunderstood me. I wasn’t referring to your baby, young lady, but Caroline’s. She’s pregnant.”

In the silence that followed his explanation, Caroline moved her hand to her stomach, unable to believe the doctor’s words. Pregnant? She couldn’t be. Could she? Oh, dear, what had she gotten herself into?

And with whom?

A look at the shocked faces around her told her that no one else had known.

Then the young woman whimpered. “I should’ve known. I should’ve known you’d go out and get pregnant just to spite me. You always think you have to be better than me!” She broke into sobs, burying her face in the suit jacket of one of the younger men.

“Oh, no, dear, no. This is all my fault,” said the woman she supposed was her mother.

The man who claimed to be her father turned to stare at the woman. “What are you talking about, Amelia?”

Amelia? Her mother’s name was Amelia?

“I should never have asked Caroline to work in the unwed mother’s home. It’s my fault.”

“Amelia, pregnancy isn’t contagious, either!” the man ranted, his face turning red.

Caroline almost felt sorry for him. He seemed surrounded by some very strange people.

Dr. Johansen spoke again. “I apologize. I didn’t realize you didn’t know about the pregnancy. Of course, she’s only two months along, but usually—”

“Two months?” Mr. Blue Jeans asked sharply.

“Yes, but—”

“I demand to know who the father is,” the older man suddenly exclaimed, glaring at everyone in the room. In that tone of voice, Caroline was sure he was always obeyed.

She was right.

Three men stepped forward, each of them staring at her, and, in unison, as if rehearsed, said, “I am.”




CHAPTER TWO


SHE WAS SLEEPING with three men? At the same time? What kind of woman was she?

Caroline stared at each of those who’d claimed parentage to her child. No flicker of recognition arose. She was debating what her response should be when everyone else in the room spoke for her.

“I don’t understand,” Amelia said, a puzzled look on her brow.

“Well, I do! Caroline, how disgusting,” her sister said, staring down her nose at Caroline.

“That’s impossible!” James Adkins roared. “You couldn’t be the father of her child!”

Caroline frowned as she realized her father was only speaking to the odd man out, the one in blue jeans. Her father didn’t have a problem with the other two men claiming to be the father of her child? What qualified them? The fact that they were wearing suits?

After directing a glare at her father, the man turned to look at Caroline. She found herself swallowed up by his burning gaze.

“Oh, yes, I certainly could,” he said, with no doubt in his voice.

If it were a matter of attraction, she’d accept his word, hands down, she realized. But it wasn’t. “Who are you?” she asked.

There was a flash of disappointment in his gaze, but it disappeared almost at once. “Max Daniels.”

“We—we dated?”

“Briefly.”

“Caroline, the man is obviously after your money. I’ll get rid of him,” James Adkins promised, and then motioned to the other two daddy candidates.

She didn’t know who she was, or who these people were, but she did know she didn’t take kindly to being overruled. “I don’t think that decision is yours to make.”

The uproar her assertion of independence brought from her father, the other two men, even her mother and sister, was enough to make Caroline’s headache feel like a volcanic eruption.

Even in pain, however, she noticed that the center of the controversy, Mr. Blue Jeans, shot her a look of approval. Well, he needn’t think he was home free. She wasn’t about to take a stranger’s word about such an important matter.

She was struck by the irony of calling the man a stranger when he might be the father of her child.

“I asked you not to question or upset her,” Dr. Johansen interrupted. “You’ll all have to leave now.”

Though they didn’t go quietly, the doctor herded the visitors from the room and left Caroline in peace.

As much peace as one could have, pregnant without knowing who the father might be.

Could she really have been sleeping with three men? Was she the kind of woman who hopped from bed to bed? Revulsion filled her and she wanted to believe that was not possible. But then why were three men claiming to be the daddy?

She recalled her father’s remark, that Max Daniels was only after her money. Once the pregnancy had been revealed, she hadn’t thought about her life before the accident. She was wealthy? Not that she objected. Not having to worry about paying hospital bills would be an advantage.

But she needed answers! She wanted to reclaim her life, to understand what was happening to her. And most of all, she wanted to know which man had made love to her two months ago. And heaven help her if it was more than one.



“ARE YOU ALL PACKED?” the nurse asked cheerfully, coming into her room the next morning.

Caroline murmured yes, not bothering to point out she had almost nothing to pack. She didn’t move her head, however. Even after twenty-four hours, it felt fragile. “Is—is my father here?”

She still wasn’t comfortable with James Adkins, or the other members of her family. Or even with herself, for that matter. She’d looked in a mirror and seen a stranger. A pregnant stranger.

That thought had been brought home to her when she’d gotten up this morning. Morning sickness, heightened by her concussion, the nurse had said, had attacked her. What little breakfast she’d eaten had come right back up.

Women go through this more than once? Voluntarily? The nurse had reassured her that her sickness was perfectly normal in the circumstances.

“He called earlier to let us know he was picking you up at ten. It’s almost that now. I’ll bring a cart for the flowers.”

Her father had flooded her room with floral arrangements. Even more interesting had been the offerings from two of the men claiming to have fathered her baby. Long-stemmed red roses. Two dozen apiece.

Nothing from Max Daniels.

“Why don’t you pass the flowers out among the sick?” Caroline said. “I think that might be easier than carting them all home.” Wherever that was.

“That’s very generous of you. I have several patients who never receive flowers.” The nurse smiled.

“Then I hope they enjoy these.”

Footsteps near the door had her turning around carefully. But it was neither the doctor nor her father. Her heartbeat picked up speed as she stared at Max Daniels.

How could she have forgotten making love to this man? He was certainly handsome, but there was something more—a connection she couldn’t explain—that took her breath away. She noted he was again in jeans, this time coupled with a starched plaid shirt, and he held a bouquet of daisies in his hand.

“Good morning,” he said.

She responded and waited, watching him. His eyes, as blue as the sky, looked wary, as if he weren’t sure of his welcome. The nurse slipped from the room, murmuring something about fetching a cart. Left alone with him, Caroline’s mouth went dry as she stared at the gorgeous man in front of her. The urge to touch him almost consumed her. When Max continued to say nothing, she asked in desperation, “Are those for me?”

He held the flowers out to her. “Yeah.” His gaze took in the roses and carnations that filled the room. “You told me you liked daisies.”

If she hadn’t before, she did now. If Max Daniels delivered them. “I do, thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Has your memory returned?” He took a step closer, his gaze intent.

She started to shake her head and then stopped. The headache hovering on the edge of consciousness edged closer with any radical movement. “No, it hasn’t.”

He thrust the flowers into her hands and stepped back. “Then how can I get a phone number where I can reach you? I’d like to stay in touch.”

“You don’t have it?” Some relationship they must’ve had. If he was telling the truth.

“No. If I’d had it, I would’ve found you a lot sooner,” he said gruffly, a fierceness entering his gaze that had her stepping back.

Either the movement, or the puzzle that was her life at the moment, pushed the headache out of control. She reached for her forehead with her free hand, clasping the daisies to her breast with the other.

“Are you all right?”

“I need to sit down,” she said faintly, and he guided her to the only chair. As she was sinking into it, her head lolling back against the top of it, the door to her room was pushed open.

“What are you doing to my daughter?” a booming voice demanded.

Caroline dropped the flowers into her lap and pressed both hands to her throbbing temples. “Please—”

Without answering her father’s question, Max walked to the bed and pressed the nurse’s button.

“I’m sorry, Caro, I didn’t mean to make your head hurt,” James Adkins hurriedly apologized, and then glared at Max, as if it were Max’s fault he had yelled.

“Yes?” the nurse asked as she came back into the room.

“Ms. Adkins’s headache has come back,” Max said softly. “Is there anything you can give her for it?”

“It never went away,” Caroline contradicted him.

“Because of the baby, we can’t give her a painkiller. She just needs to have peace and quiet.” The nurse glared accusingly at the two men.

“I’m here to take her home,” her father said stiffly. “I don’t know why he’s here.”

“Well, she needs to be back in bed as soon as possible. The doctor’s on the way up to release her.” She backed out of the room, still frowning at Caroline’s visitors.

“He wants my phone number,” Caroline told her father. “Would you give it to him, please? I don’t remember it. And get his.” Stupid statement. No one would expect her to remember a phone number when she couldn’t even remember her shoe size.

But she didn’t want to lose Max Daniels. Her reaction to him told her he had to be the one—the father of her baby. The love of her life? Frustration filled her—and not a little panic. What if she never remembered? What if—

Her father disrupted her fears by glaring at Max again and moving closer to her chair to say in a stage whisper obviously intended for Max’s ears, “Caroline, I’m not sure that’s wise. We only have his say-so that you two were—you know.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. Great. Next her father would want to explain the birds and the bees. “Intimate. That’s the word. Please give him my phone number.”

Max stepped forward, ignoring her father, and extended a business card to her. “Both my work and home numbers are on this card. Call me if there’s anything I can do for you—or anything.”

“You’ve already done too much, according to you!” her father growled.

Max’s lips—those enticing lips—flattened tightly against each other, and Caroline had the strangest urge to tease them into a smile. As attracted as she was to Max Daniels, if he was the father of her child, she felt sure she had put up no resistance whatsoever to any intimacy between them. In fact, she may have seduced him.

But what about the other two men who claimed to be the daddy? She wished she could rule them out, but she reluctantly admitted she couldn’t. She’d read about women who carried on with more than one man, but—she had?

Distracted by a memory, even an insignificant one, she lost track of the men’s conversation. It was such a relief to remember something, even though it was useless for solving her problems.

“Look, Mr. Adkins,” Max said, moving closer to the older man, “what happened is between Caroline and me. What’s her phone number?”

“It’s unlisted.”

“I figured that. I called all the Adkinses as I could find in the telephone book.”

That remark snapped her from her thoughts. “You did?”

“You disappeared without saying goodbye. I wanted to know why.” His expression said he blamed her for her unexplained departure.

She’d like to know why she’d gone away, too. Why would she leave someone she was obviously attracted to? Had she found out some deep, dark secret? Or was his entire story a lie?

“She probably realized she was in love with Prescott or Adrian. She came back to them, didn’t she?” James offered.

Her father’s interpretation of past events might not be quite reliable, Caroline decided. He seemed intent on persuading her that one of the other men was the mysterious father.

“By the way, where are the Bobbsey twins?” she asked.

Max choked and tried to hide a chuckle behind one of his big hands. Her gaze remained fixed on his crinkling blue eyes, hoping for a glimpse of his smile.

“Caroline! You shouldn’t call them such a thing. They’re down in the limo, waiting. They wanted to come up here, but I assured them we’d be right down.” James glared at Max again.

“They really came?” She’d only been teasing, hoping to lighten the moment.

“Of course. They’re very concerned about you.” He waved to the roses on each side of her bed. “After all, they sent you roses, a lot more expensive than those daisies.”

In spite of her headache, Caroline smelled a rat and asked, “How do you know the roses came from them?”

“Well, I thought— I suggested— It was just a guess.” He blundered to a stop.

As if it were a natural occurrence, her gaze flew to Max’s and they shared a smile, a glorious smile that she’d been waiting to see. She took a deep breath of appreciation. The guy was as sexy as could be. She wondered what he’d look like without his shirt.

“Caroline!” Her father was obviously irritated at her distraction.

“Please, my head.”

Both the doctor and the nurse returned to her room at that moment, the nurse pushing a flower cart.

“All ready to go, Caroline?” Dr. Johansen asked cheerfully.

“Yes, I guess so. But my headache is getting worse again.”

“Hmm. Probably the excitement of getting out of here. I don’t know why people react to hospitals that way,” he teased as he picked up her wrist to take her pulse.

The door opened again to admit the two men her father called Adrian and Prescott. “James? We thought we’d better come up in case you needed help,” Prescott said, his gaze sweeping the room. When it landed on Max, he stepped closer to James.

Interesting, Caroline decided. He goes to my father’s side, not mine. Adrian, the second one, kind of hovered between her father and her, as if undecided about where his loyalties lay. As they moved, Caroline looked closely at them. They were both handsome, in a conventional manner. Adrian was blond, but a little too smooth for her tastes. Prescott was darker and slightly shorter, but neither stirred her as Max did. “What’s he doing here?” Prescott demanded, disdainfully waving his hand toward Max.

“He never left,” Caroline rapidly answered, not happy with Prescott’s attitude. What business was it of his if Max wanted to visit her? “We spent the entire night together.”

Everyone except Max and the doctor gasped, staring at her. Then a babble of protests made her regret her short-tempered response. “Just kidding, just kidding,” she said, raising her hand to halt their noise.

“Caroline’s headache is back. Too much noise is bad for it,” Max said calmly.

Prescott glared at Max, but Adrian moved closer to Caroline. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. Do you know my phone number?” she asked.

“Why, certainly. Your private line or your father’s?”

“Mine.”

He said her telephone number, and Caroline smiled as Max took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote it down on one of his business cards. His sexy grin was her thank-you.

“I’m not sure that was wise, Caroline,” Prescott said, echoing her father’s earlier warning.

“I may not remember too much about my past, but I know I don’t like people bossing me around, whoever I am. If you know me well, Prescott, you must already be aware of that trait.”

During their conversation, the nurse had pushed the flower cart out the door and returned with a wheelchair. “Is she ready, Doctor?”

“I believe she is. She may not be up to full fighting weight just yet, but I think she can handle this crew,” Dr. Johansen said with a smile at Caroline. “I suspect you’ve already seen a doctor about your pregnancy, but if not, set up an appointment as soon as possible. And let me know if the headache doesn’t gradually diminish.”

“Gradually?” she protested.

“I’m afraid so, Caroline. Don’t get too agitated for a while. Rest and sleep. That’s the cure.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

He excused himself and the nurse pushed the wheelchair to her side and then took her arm. “Okay, lean on me. On the count of three, we’ll move to the chair.”

Caroline would have preferred Max’s help, but if she asked for it, Prescott would probably knock both of them over trying to reach her first. She stood and stepped over to the wheelchair. A sudden hand on her other arm needed no identification. The responsive surge of attraction told her it was Max. She smiled up at him once she was settled. “Thanks.”

“I would’ve helped. You should’ve asked me,” Prescott complained.

She almost groaned aloud. If Prescott was the father of her baby, she could expect a whiner and probably the biggest brownnoser in existence. What a depressing thought.

“Well, let’s be on our way,” her father said abruptly, swinging around to the door. His two satellites fell into step behind him.

Caroline wasn’t quite ready. She wanted an excuse to touch Max one more time. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Thank you for the daisies.”

He took her hand in his. “My pleasure.” Then he leaned down and briefly caressed her lips with his. Her pulse throbbed. Good thing she was going to get some rest before she saw him again. Otherwise, she just might explode with all the excitement.

As if realizing something had occurred behind their backs, the other three men turned and stared at the two of them.

“Are you coming, Caroline?” James demanded.

“Yes, I’m right behind you, Dad,” she answered, a smile on her face for Max Daniels. He remained in the room as the nurse pushed her out, her daisies clutched to her chest.



DAMN. Max stood alone in the hospital room and drew a deep breath. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But he hadn’t been able to resist. Even as pale as she was this morning, with a bruise on her forehead, Caroline was beautiful.

He’d only had two short weeks with her, but he’d missed her every day since she’d gone. Even though he called himself all kinds of a fool for still wanting her.

The two weeks they’d spent together seemed like a dream now, with a nightmare ending when she disappeared. He’d already been making plans for their future together. Plans that were aborted when she left.

She’d told him she was from Kansas City and had just moved to Denver. At first, she’d said she was looking for a job. He’d offered to introduce her to the interior design firms he used, had even told her who to contact. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized she’d never looked for a job.

Hell, he hadn’t given her time. He’d spent every moment he could with her. He couldn’t leave her alone. And he’d been making plans to keep her with him forever.

And now that he’d discovered she was an heiress, he knew they had no future together. Even if the baby was his. Her father wasn’t going to let her marry him. Not when there were two superstar executives waiting with open arms.

Max wasn’t even sure why he still wanted her. After all, everything she’d told him was a lie. Now he understood the old saying, ignorance is bliss. Those two weeks had certainly been blissful.

But if their two weeks had resulted in a baby, his baby, then he refused to be pushed out of the picture. He would not abandon his own child.

He shook himself from his misery. Feeling sorry for himself had never been his style. Instead, he formulated a plan and set about changing his circumstances.

Maybe that was what had frustrated him so about Caroline. He’d followed every lead he’d had, but he’d discovered nothing about her.

He reached the outer door of the hospital just in time to see a white limo pull away from the hospital. At least this time he had her telephone number. Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.



“WAIT!” PRESCOTT CALLED to the driver as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Please don’t shout.”

“But we’ve forgotten your flowers. That damned nurse probably thought she could get away with stealing them. Turn around and go back.”

“No!” Caroline contradicted. “Take us home, Lewis.”

The chauffeur, much to Caroline’s satisfaction, obeyed her.

“Caroline!” her father exclaimed. “How did you know?”

“What?” Her head hurt so much. She wasn’t sure she could remain upright until they reached the house.

“His name. You knew his name.”

“You must have said it,” she replied, frowning, trying to think.

“No, I didn’t. Your memory is returning!” he exclaimed happily. “That’s wonderful. I’ll give that doctor a bonus. Now,” he said, pausing to lean toward her, “which of these gentlemen is the father of your baby?”

Immediately the headache increased.

“I haven’t gotten my memory back. I don’t know how I knew his name.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m in so much pain.”

“And I don’t understand about the flowers. Didn’t you like them?” Prescott grumbled.

“They were lovely. But there were so many of them I asked the nurse to distribute them to others who weren’t going home. It seemed like the generous thing to do.”

“It was, and just like you, Caroline,” Adrian said as he smiled at her.

“Was it?” she asked coolly, leery of his friendliness. She decided his gray eyes were cold, even if his lips were smiling. And who knew if he was telling the truth? All she knew about herself so far was that she liked her own way, hated headaches, was pregnant, and apparently didn’t mind sleeping with more than one man.

That couldn’t be true. She never liked to share. In high school, her boyfriend had thought he could date her and her best friend at the same time. She’d shown him.

Another memory. She clutched it to her like a precious jewel. But when she tried to extend that grasp on the past, searching for other memories, she drew a blank. Frustration filled her.

“If you were so generous with the roses, why are you still holding those?” Prescott complained, gesturing to the daisies.

“Because I like them.”

He turned to glare at her father. “You said roses!” he accused. He sounded like a little boy, but his thinning hair showed him to be considerably beyond his youth.

If she’d needed confirmation that the roses had been sent at her father’s behest, his remark was it. She shot her father a knowing look.

“I was just trying to speed things up. I don’t want my grandchild born a bastard, so I suggest you select one of these fine gentlemen to marry you. They’re both willing.”

“And are you going to speak the words for them as they mime a proposal?” she asked, growing tired of her father’s arguments.

“That’s not necessary, Caroline, darling,” Prescott said, rushing in, as she should’ve known he would. She might not remember him, but she knew more about him than she wanted to already.

“I’m perfectly willing to marry you today if you’ll agree,” he continued, reaching for her hand.

She pulled her hands back. “No, thank you. I have a headache.”

Not an original excuse…for a lot of things, but it was the best she could come up with right now.

“I’d prefer to make my proposal in private,” Adrian informed her, sending a superior smile toward Prescott.

She’d prefer that he not make it at all. “Thank you, but I’m confused right now. I don’t think I’m ready to make any decisions.”

“Of course, but you won’t forget?” There was an edge to his voice that irritated her.

“I hope not.” It seemed to Caroline that a promise not to forget from an amnesiac victim wouldn’t be worth much. She wouldn’t believe her.

“Of course she won’t forget,” her father answered heartily. “And if she does, the three of us will be there to remind her. After all, she has to marry someone.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Now, Caroline, no argument. I’m an old-fashioned man, and I expect my grandchild to be born on the right side of the blanket.”

She ignored him.

“And if you don’t cooperate, you just might find yourself written out of my will.”

She might not have her memory, but the ease with which her father uttered those words made her suspect it was a threat he’d used before.

“Then call your lawyer, because I will decide what I do about my baby and my future. Not you.”

The look of panic on Prescott’s face that she might be written out of the will told Caroline her threat may have eliminated at least one potential daddy candidate. Whether her memory returned or not.




CHAPTER THREE


CAROLINE STARED IN AWE at the magnificent residence the limo stopped in front of, after having driven through a large gate flanked by brick walls. It must take an army of workers to maintain the lush grounds, she decided, her gaze traveling over the perfect flower beds, the exactly trimmed hedges.

She turned to compliment her father on the beauty of their home only to discover everyone staring at her. She felt like a bug under a microscope.

“No, I don’t remember,” she assured them dryly. “I’ll let you know when my memory returns.”

All three looked away.

“Why did Prescott and Adrian come with you to pick me up instead of my mother?” Caroline suddenly asked, struck by the presence of these men rather than family members.

“Friday is Save the Whales day,” her father muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Adrian leaned forward to explain. “Your mother is quite involved in the local charities. On Fridays, she goes to the meeting for saving the whales.”

Caroline remembered a curious remark from the day before. “And one of her charities is for unwed mothers?”

“Yes,” her father snapped.

Caroline asked no more questions. Not yet.

Her father escorted her into the house and introduced her to the housekeeper, Mrs. Lamb, and then left for the office, accompanied by Prescott and Adrian.

“Welcome home, Caroline. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m still a little shaky. If you’ll show me to my room, I’ll lie down for a while.”

“Why, honey, there’s no need to be formal!” the woman said with a laugh that sent a shooting pain through Caroline’s head. “You know better’n me where your room is.”

Her patience was wearing thin. Amnesia might play a large role in a lot of jokes, but she wasn’t finding it funny. “Mrs. Lamb, I have amnesia. I don’t remember ever seeing this house before.”

“Oh, my stars. Of course, Caroline. You just come this way. Anything you want to know, you just ask me.”

If her head weren’t splitting into a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon, she might have taken the woman up on the offer. Later. She only had one question at the moment.

“If I want to invite someone to dinner, is that all right?”

“Of course it is. Just tell me when and how many.”

Caroline took a deep breath before she clarified her request. “I meant if I wanted to have a guest for dinner and—and not dine with the family.”

“Oh, of course, you want something romanticlike? No problem. It’s nice out at night right now. I could set up a table for two on the patio. You’d be all alone there.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Lamb. I’ll let you know when.”

“Sure enough. I’m just having a little trouble with you being so formal and all. When you wanted something real special from me, you always used to call me Lambie.” The woman smiled with a warmth that struck Caroline as the kindest she’d seen since she awoke a lost person.

She reached out and touched Mrs. Lamb’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I’ll remember everything soon. If you’ll just be patient.”

“Of course I will. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt bad.”

“Thank you.”

She followed the housekeeper up a wide staircase, down a long hall to the last door on the right.

“Your room looks out over the pool.”

She pushed open the door and Caroline stepped into the room. She stared around her, her eyes wide. “Who decorated it?”

“Why, you did, Caroline, about two years ago. You don’t remember? Oh, my stars, what a silly question. Forgive me, child. Now look, here’s the phone and if you want anything, you just pick it up and press this button. Okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.” With a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, Mrs. Lamb fled the room.

Though she moved about the room, searching for clues to who Caroline Adkins might be, she also recognized a sense of contentment gradually filling her. It felt as if she had finally found a sanctuary from the maze her life had become.

Maybe it’s all the blue. I’ve always been partial to blue. She had taken several more steps before she realized she’d remembered something else about herself. Yes, she’d always liked blues. And bright colors.

With a sigh she pulled back the coverlet on the king-size bed and sank down amid a huge collection of pillows. She’d worry about who she was, what she’d done, later. Now, she needed to rest her aching head.

Caroline awoke several hours later, consciousness gradually returning. But not her memory. She let her gaze sweep the room, looking for clues to who she really was. With a sigh, she sat up.

The rest had given her the energy to indulge her curiosity a little more. After washing her face in the luxurious connecting bath, she returned to the bedroom and opened the closet door.

A ripple of pleasure ran through her as she examined the rows of clothes hung neatly in the large closet. My, I have great taste…and expensive, too. She recognized designer names on many of the dresses.

Since she couldn’t remember buying or wearing any of the outfits, it was like having an entire new wardrobe. She wouldn’t have to shop for months. Wrong.

How could she forget the baby?

And the changes that would occur in the next few months. She groaned. Even the clothes she was wearing were a little snug, uncomfortably so. Before too long, they wouldn’t fit her at all, and she’d have to start shopping all over again.

Not necessarily an unhappy thought, she realized with a grin. What woman didn’t enjoy a little shopping? Sliding her hands into the pockets of her navy slacks, she felt the card Max Daniels had given her.

Resolution filled her. She had something more important than shopping to do right now. It was time to take back her life. And she would start with Max Daniels. She ignored the thought that she was starting with him because she wanted him to be the father of her child. She had to start somewhere.

She crossed the room to the telephone.

“Daniels Vacation Homes.”

Caroline frowned at the sexy female voice that answered the phone. “I’m calling Max Daniels.”

“Max is out of the office at the moment. May I take a message?”

“This is Caroline Adkins. I need to—”

“He just came in. One moment, please.”

“Caroline?”

She released a sigh at the sound of his voice. It was as if she’d feared she wouldn’t find him again. With no memory to support their relationship, she only had those few minutes at the hospital.

“Hi, Max. I—I wanted to invite you to dinner.”

The silence that followed her request left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

“To dinner?” he finally asked.

“Yes.” When he said nothing else, she asked, “Is that an odd request? Do you not eat?”

“Of course I eat, but you never even admitted you had family in the area, much less offered to introduce me.” There was an antagonism in his voice.

“Look, I don’t remember what I did…or why. I’m just trying to figure out what happened. I thought I’d start with you. If you don’t want to talk to me, then say so.” She could match his reluctance any day, she assured herself. Especially if she didn’t think about him.

“Of course I want to talk to you. I want to know what happened as much as you do. And whether the baby is mine.”

The doubt in his voice was like a blow. “You sounded a lot surer of that fact yesterday.”

“That’s before I realized I was one of a crowd.”

Even as anger filled her, it was tempered by understanding. “It came as a shock to me, too.” When he said nothing else, she asked, “Did I ever mention anyone else?”

“No. Like I said, I thought you had recently moved here. That you knew no one.”

This discussion was going nowhere. She returned to her original question. “Will you come to dinner? I need to ask you a lot of questions.” She didn’t intend to plead, but she recognized a hint of persuasiveness in her voice.

“Tell me when.”

“Tonight?”

“I can’t. I’ve already made an appointment with prospective clients.”

He could’ve sounded a little unhappy that he couldn’t come right away. “Tomorrow night?”

Letting out a gusty sigh, he agreed. “What time?”

“Seven o’clock. And would you mind not sounding so put upon? I have no intention of torturing you!” she snapped, any patience she might normally have had having disintegrated between her headache and her heartache.

“It’s too late. You already have.” He hung up without waiting for a response.

“Oh yeah?” she yelled into the dead phone. “Well, just wait until tomorrow night!”

How dare that man act as if she’d intentionally hurt him? She was suffering just as much as him.

Recalling her bout with morning sickness, she decided she was suffering more. She strode to the closet and her wonderful new wardrobe. He thought he’d been tortured before? She’d make sure the torture continued.

“Caroline?” Mrs. Lamb called softly, rapping on the door before opening it. “Oh!” she exclaimed as Caroline appeared at the closet door.

“Hi. Did you need something?”

“I have a luncheon tray for you,” the housekeeper explained, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

“I could’ve come downstairs,” Caroline assured her.

“You’re always so thoughtful, child, but you need your rest. What are you doing out of bed?”

“Trying to decide which outfit is my most killer one.”

“Killer?” Mrs. Lamb’s face was a perfect picture of puzzlement.

“Don’t worry. I’m not plotting a murder. I don’t think. I’m wanting to, uh, look my best. By the way, my dinner guest is coming tomorrow night. Is that okay?”

“Sure is. Do I know him?”

“His name is Max Daniels.” Caroline studied the housekeeper’s expression, but she saw no sign of recognition. “You’ve never heard of him?”

“No. Should I have?”

“He’s one of the three… Has anyone told you I’m pregnant?”

Mrs. Lamb almost dropped the tray and Caroline rushed forward to support her.

“Oh, my stars. Are you serious? I can’t believe it. Isn’t that wonderful? You and Chelsea will have babies almost the same age. I—who’s the father?”

Mrs. Lamb’s abrupt question showed her sudden awareness of Caroline’s situation. With a self-conscious shrug, Caroline said, “I don’t know. The amnesia.”

“Well, surely he’ll come forward. I mean, a man should be responsible for his actions.”

“That’s the problem,” Caroline replied. “Three men have claimed responsibility for—for my baby.”

“Three? Oh, my stars! Caroline!”

Taking the shaking tray from the housekeeper’s hands, Caroline set it on the lamp table. “Lambie, I need help.”

“Why, I’ll do whatever I—I don’t see how—I mean, what are you going to do?”

“I need to find out what was going on in my life two months ago.”

As if her knees had collapsed, Mrs. Lamb sank onto the bed. “Oh, my stars.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Two months ago? A little over two months ago, you had a fight with your father.”

“A fight? What about?”

“I don’t know. But the next morning, you called a taxi, and you left.”

“A taxi? I don’t have a car?”

“Of course you have a car. A Mercedes. Your father insisted, saying they were the safest. He buys you a new one every year.”

She kept her feelings about her father’s domination to herself. “Then why a taxi?”

“I don’t know. You had a bag packed and you hugged me, saying not to worry, you were going on a vacation.”

“Did I tell you where I was going?”

“No. You left a note for your father, but it didn’t tell him anything, ‘cause he questioned me.”

She had some questions for her father the next time she saw him, too. “Did I call you after I left? And how long was I gone?”

“You called once and told me you were having a good time. And you left a message for your father.”

“What message?”

Mrs. Lamb screwed up her face, as if trying to remember, and finally said, “You said you were proving him wrong.”

Caroline stared at her. “That’s it? Nothing for my mother?”

With a surprised look on her face, Mrs. Lamb said, “Why, no. You don’t—I mean, you love your mother, of course, but Mrs. Adkins is so busy…” She trailed off and looked away.

“I see. And when I came back? Did I ever say where I’d been or what I’d done?”

“No. But you seemed sad. Once I found you crying, and that’s unusual for you. Why, as a little girl, you’d fall and hurt yourself, but you’d never cry. Unlike Chelsea. Chelsea learned to shed tears whenever she wanted something. Tears just drive your father up the wall.”

Caroline could believe that. But she wanted more information about herself, not her father or her sister. “Did I explain why I was crying?”

“No.”

“Did I receive any strange phone calls? Or letters?” But she remembered Max asking for her telephone number. He wouldn’t have called her.

“No.”

“Did I date anyone after I came back?”

“You would go to social events with Adrian and Prescott. You did that before you left, too.”

“Social events?”

“You know, to the Save the Whales dinner and dance, the opera, the symphony opening night. There was a real nice picture in the paper yesterday of you and Adrian.”

“Why?” Caroline demanded, suddenly afraid she might have announced her engagement.

“You were dancing at the opera ball.”

Caroline sat down beside Mrs. Lamb, feeling a little weak herself. And her head was beginning to ache. Again.

“You’d better eat some lunch, child. You don’t look too well. And you’ve got a baby to think about now.”

Caroline smiled faintly. It was too easy to forget that she was carrying a child inside her, since she couldn’t remember the event that had brought it about. But Mrs. Lamb was right. She needed to eat.

“Let’s take the tray back downstairs. I’ve had enough eating in bed to last me awhile.”

And she needed to calm down again before she faced her father. He had some explaining to do.



SHE DIDN’T GET TO ASK her father any questions that night. Long before he’d returned from the office, she’d gone to bed, exhausted. Her mother had gotten home around four, but her vagueness made Caroline wonder if she even remembered that her daughter had come home from the hospital that day.

Even so, Caroline tried to question her at the dinner table that evening.

“Uh, Mother?”

“Yes, dear?” Amelia replied distractedly, examining the salad she was eating.

“Do you know why I argued with my father?”

“Did you? I have no idea, dear. You argue with him frequently, even though I tell you you shouldn’t.” She took a bite of salad and chewed it consideringly. “I don’t think Mrs. Lamb is using a dietetic dressing, even though I asked her to.”

“Please think, Mother. It’s important.”

“I know it is. I gained two pounds last month, and I’m sure it’s the salad dressing.”

“No, I mean arguing with—with my father.” She had no idea what she normally called him.

Amelia looked at her blankly. “About what? Was he difficult when he picked you up?”

“No, not today,” Caroline said, hoping her patience could withstand more conversation with her mother. “Mrs. Lamb said that I had a fight with him a little over two months ago, and then I left.”

“Did you? Where did you go?”

Caroline sighed. “I don’t know. Didn’t you notice I was gone?”

“Hmm. Two months ago? I think that’s when I went to that spa in Arizona.” She laid down her fork and rang the dinner bell that rested on the table by her plate.

Mrs. Lamb opened the door that led to the kitchen. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Mrs. Lamb, didn’t I go to that spa at the end of June?” Amelia asked.

“Was that when I left, while Mother was at the spa?” Caroline added, hoping to clarify matters.

“That’s right. Your mother left the day before you did.”

“Where did Caroline go, Mrs. Lamb? She wants to know.”

The housekeeper looked at Caroline and then her mother. “I don’t know, ma’am. She didn’t say.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lamb,” Caroline said, dismissing the woman before her mother remembered the salad dressing.

A call to her sister didn’t produce any better results.

“I have no time to keep up with your social schedule, Caroline. You disappeared just after I announced my pregnancy. I assumed you had left in a fit of jealousy. But I had no idea you’d go so far as to get pregnant yourself. Couldn’t you let me be first in something?”

Having determined that her sister knew nothing about those lost two weeks, Caroline quickly smoothed her feathers and hung up the phone. Mrs. Lamb confirmed that her father had called and would be working late, which seemed to be a common occurrence.

No wonder no one knew anything. They barely saw each other. All of them together in her hospital room must have been their version of a family reunion. And not a very happy one.

Caroline crawled into bed and rested on the pillow, hoping its softness would soothe her head.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she would confront her father. Tomorrow she would ask more questions, find out about those elusive two weeks.

Tomorrow, she would see Max again.




CHAPTER FOUR


THE FIRST DRESS had to be replaced when she discovered it was too tight.

Fortunately, she made another discovery—an emerald green silk dress, with a V neckline that dipped dangerously low. The flowing skirt ended right at the knees and fluttered every time she moved. If he was a leg man, she’d definitely get his attention.

Max Daniels may have thought she’d tortured him before, but he hadn’t seen anything yet.

After perfecting her makeup, she ran downstairs and poked her head through the kitchen door. “Everything okay?”

Mrs. Lamb, working at the huge sink, smiled distractedly. “Oh, yes.”

“Thanks. I’ll get the doorbell when it rings.”

She didn’t have long to wait.

Speeding to the front door, she threw it open, a welcoming smile on her face. It faltered when she discovered not one handsome man, but three, on the doorstep.

And none of them looked happy.

“Uh, come in,” she muttered, stepping back.

Max glowered at her as he crossed the threshold, and the other two looked uneasy.

“Are you here to see my father?” she asked Adrian and Prescott.

Before either of them could answer, she heard footsteps behind her, and her father’s voice answered.

“They’re here as our guests for dinner, of course, just as Mr. Daniels is.”

She turned to face him. “Max and I are dining on the patio.”

Her father hadn’t bothered with her since he brought her home from the hospital, but he smiled now as if they were perfectly in tune. “I know that was your plan, Caro, but I told Mrs. Lamb you’d changed your mind. I thought we’d all dine together.”

Several responses ran through Caroline’s head, the foremost of which was to kick her father in the shins and grab Max’s hand and run. Definitely too immature. And if she challenged his decision and insisted on being served on the patio, it would cause Mrs. Lamb a great deal of trouble. And her father would probably just move his guests to the patio, also.

Leaving her no choice but to grin and bear it.

“I see. My apologies, Max. I’m afraid my plans have gone awry.” At least she wanted Max to know she hadn’t included her other—whatever they were—in the invitation.

“No problem,” he murmured, but he was glaring at Adrian and Prescott, not even looking at her.

Determined to draw his attention, she slipped her hand into his. When he looked down at her, she leaned against him ever so slightly. “I’m glad you came.”

His indrawn breath as his gaze fell to her neckline gave her some satisfaction. She grinned when his eyes met hers. At least he wasn’t ignoring her now.

“Let’s all go to the sun room and have a drink while Mrs. Lamb finishes preparing dinner,” James suggested, acting the genial host.

In the sun room, Amelia was sitting in a pool of light from a nearby lamp, industriously stitching.

“Good evening, Mother,” Caroline said, wondering if she should offer her a kiss on the cheek. She concluded it probably wasn’t a habit. This family, her family, seemed as disconnected as any she’d ever seen.

“Good evening, dear. How are you?”

It gave Caroline a warm feeling to know that her mother hadn’t forgotten her physical problems, at least. Perhaps she was wrong to think her family was uninvolved.

“Much better. My headache is almost gone.”

“You had a headache? That’s unusual, Caroline. You should ask Mrs. Lamb for some aspirin.”

So much for the warm fuzzies.

“Caroline is still suffering from her concussion, Amelia,” James explained.

“Oh, yes. You were in the hospital. Nasty places, hospitals.”

James seemed to suddenly realize everyone but Amelia was still standing. “Please, be seated. I’ll serve drinks. Adrian, Prescott, your usual?”

Caroline resented her father’s effort to make it clear that the other two were frequent guests. She turned to Max even as she tugged at his hand to lead him to the sofa where her mother sat. “What will you have, Max?”

“What are you having?” he asked.

“My usual,” she assured him with a grin, “a club soda.”

Her mother continued her stitching, but the men in the room stared at her as if she’d just revealed a national secret. “What’s wrong?”

“How did you know what you usually have?” James demanded, taking several steps toward her.

Realization of what she’d said set in, and she shook her head slowly. “I…I don’t know.”

Her father slapped his palm down on the bar. “Damn it, Caroline, why can’t you remember the important things?”

“You think I’m doing it on purpose?” she retorted, irritated by his words. She was just as frustrated as her father at her inability to recall her life.

“Really, James, your behavior is inappropriate,” Amelia said, still calmly stitching.

“Sorry.”

“Is a club soda what I usually have?” Caroline asked in the silence that followed.

“Yes,” Prescott said, speaking for the first time. “You always say alcohol gives you a headache.”

Even Max nodded in agreement. “And I’ll have the same.”

“Mr. Daniels, are you sure you want a club soda? The rest of us are having Scotch,” James said.

Max withdrew his hand from Caroline’s and rose to walk over to the bar. “A club soda is fine.” He picked up the two her father poured and brought them back to Caroline.

“Maybe I’ll have a club soda, too,” Prescott suddenly said, smiling at Caroline.

She couldn’t resist sharing a smile with Max. Poor Prescott was so predictable. And Max’s smile was heavenly. Just as she was searching for a reason to take his hand again, the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” she asked, looking at her father.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I would imagine it’s your sister,” Amelia stated as she continued to stitch. “She doesn’t feel like cooking and they haven’t found a housekeeper yet.”

“How can they afford a housekeeper?” James snapped. “Roddy isn’t the most successful stockbroker I’ve ever seen.”

“I told them you would pay for her,” Amelia said.

Caroline had to hand it to her mother. In her placid way, she had more effectively matched James than anyone Caroline had ever seen. Her father was gaping like a landed trout.

Chelsea and her husband entered the sun room, pausing at the entrance. “Hello, everybody.”

When greetings were offered, Roddy moved forward but Chelsea grabbed his arm to hold him back. “Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”

“What would you like to drink?” James asked, turning back to the bar.

“Not that, Daddy!” Chelsea said, pouting. “I’m wearing a maternity dress, my first.”

“It’s lovely,” Caroline murmured, hoping her low-key compliment would satisfy her sister.

“Thank you. When you need maternity clothes, Caro, you’ll have to ask me where to shop. I found some of the best places.” Chelsea’s superior air, while annoying, at least signaled she’d found a way to compensate for Caroline’s pregnancy.

Apparently satisfied with the response to her new dress, Chelsea allowed Roddy to lead her to a chair. “Get me some white wine, sweetums,” she cooed as she sat down.

“No,” Amelia said calmly, but her word had the effect of an explosion. Everyone stared at her.

Even Caroline was taken aback. In the little she had discovered about her mother, she assumed Amelia had nothing to say about anyone’s life in her house.

“What? I always have white wine, Mother. And I should be pampered. After all, I’m pregnant.” Chelsea pouted again.

“I’m sure your doctor told you to have no alcohol. It’s not good for the baby.”

“But surely one little glass of wine—” Chelsea began, but her mother cut her off.

“No. Have club soda like your sister.”

“Oh, of course! Caroline is always right!” Chelsea huffed, sliding down in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Your mother’s right, darling,” Roddy began with such tentative tones that Caroline fought the urge to chime in with encouragement. It wasn’t hard to decide who wore the pants in that family, even if they were maternity pants.

“I’m sure Mother heard that rule at the home for unwed mothers. And, of course, they shouldn’t indulge because they have no self-control, but I—”

“Also have no self-control,” James finished. “You’ll do as your mother says and have club soda.”

Caroline leaned toward Max. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’d planned on a private dinner. Then you wouldn’t have had to endure this argument.”

“No problem.”

She stared at him in irritation. The least he could do was look disappointed at having to share her with this mob all evening. Instead, he seemed quite interested in Chelsea’s performance.

Maybe he was attracted to Chelsea. Her honey blond curls, even if they were out of a bottle, gave her a little-girl look that some men found alluring. Caroline couldn’t remember anything about her relationship with Max, but she knew she didn’t want him attracted to her sister.

“Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Lamb announced from the doorway.

Amelia put away her needlework and stood to lead the way into the dining room. Beside each plate was a charming china name plate. Caroline was unhappy to discover Max was to be seated at the opposite end of the table from her.

“I’m afraid a mistake has been made, Daddy,” she announced, calmly exchanging Max’s name with Adrian’s. Instead of having her father’s two favorites surrounding her, she would have Max as a dinner partner.

“I just thought I’d like an opportunity to visit with our guest, Caro,” James protested.

“Some other time, Daddy.” She took Max’s arm and drew him to the chair at her mother’s left. He courteously pulled out the chair beside him for her, in the center of the table, opposite her sister.

Max wasn’t sure what difference it made where he sat at the big table. From the moment he’d met the other two men on the front porch, he’d realized the evening would be a disaster. He’d been an idiot to expect anything else, he decided.

An uneasy silence fell on the table as the housekeeper served consommé. Max may not have been brought up in a wealthy mansion, but he’d been taught good manners. He turned to his hostess.

“Do you do needlework for relaxation, Mrs. Adkins?” he asked politely.

His hostess looked surprised at his question, but she smiled. “Why, no. Actually, I’m doing it for an auction the home for the unwed mothers is having to raise money. It’s so expensive to care for all of them.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he said, and picked up his soup-spoon. As if he’d knocked a hole in a dam, words poured forth from Mrs. Adkins as she described all the ways the money would prove useful for her charity.

An occasional nod or encouraging word was all Max needed to contribute for the next few minutes. That gave him plenty of time to think about the brunette beauty beside him. She’d been on his mind for the past two months. Their two weeks together had been wonderful. Since then he’d wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Maybe he would’ve been better off if he hadn’t.

He sneaked a glance at her and decided that wasn’t true. If he had a chance to be with Caroline, then he wanted that chance.

“Do you have brothers or sisters, Mr. Daniels?” Mrs. Adkins asked.

“Why, yes, ma’am. I have three brothers and two sisters.”

“My, you come from a large family. Do they all work with you at your business? I believe my husband said you build homes?”

Max noticed Caroline leaned a little closer, as if trying to hear what they were saying. He grinned. She’d loved to hear him talk of his family. He’d assumed she had none of her own, but now he wondered if it was because hers seemed so distant to each other.

“Only my baby sister, Susan. She answers the phone when she’s not in class.”

“She’s in high school?”

“No, Susan’s a junior in college.”

“Was she the one who answered the phone when I called yesterday?” Caroline asked, proving that she’d been listening to their conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Did—did I meet her when we—while we were dating?”

“No.”

He hadn’t wanted to share her with his family. One introduction and they would’ve taken her in like a long-lost relative. So he’d put off taking her home to his mother. Until it was too late.

“Did I meet any of your family?”

“No.”

Her hazel eyes, with their dark lashes, rounded in surprise. He wanted to lean toward her and kiss her soft lips and tease her about her reaction. Instead, he sat stiffly, unsure what to say. How could he explain the sweetness he’d wanted to hold close, keep private, as long as possible?

“And you had the nerve to complain that I didn’t tell you about my family?” she whispered to him under her breath so her mother couldn’t hear.

“At least I told you about my family.”

“That’s going to be a little hard to prove since I can’t even remember you, much less what you told me!”

“Caroline,” her father called, pulling her attention away from Max.

“Yes?”

“I wondered if you wanted to have lunch with me tomorrow? You haven’t been to the office since the accident, and you used to come all the time.”

“She can’t,” Amelia said as she rang the bell for the next course to be served. “Tomorrow is her day at the home for the unwed mothers.”

“It is?” Caroline asked, seemingly surprised.

“I really don’t think that’s appropriate now, Mother,” Chelsea said. “After all, they might mistake Caro for one of the inmates and not let her leave at the end of the day.” She giggled, as if feeling her words were quite entertaining, but no one else laughed.

Max thought it best to ignore her remark. “What do you do there?” he asked Caroline.

The lost look on her face made him want to take her into his arms and comfort her, but that wouldn’t be appropriate dinner behavior. Besides, anything she did got that reaction from him.

“I—I don’t know. Mother, what exactly do I do there?”

“Why, Caro, you’ve done some wonderful things. You teach a cooking class, and you pay for a hairdresser to give free haircuts, and you teach them to read, too. Mrs. Brown is thrilled with your help.”

“A cooking class? I know how to cook?”

“Oh, nothing fancy. That’s why it’s so good. You teach them how to make easy, well-balanced meals. Mrs. Lamb helped you.”





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