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Wanted: Father for Her Baby

Is he man enough for the ultimate job?

Wanted: Father For her Baby

Three devastatingly handsome potential daddies from three beloved writers

New York Times bestselling author BEVERLY BARTON
USA Today bestselling author PEGGY MORELAND
EMILIE ROSE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Keeping Baby Secret

By

Beverly Barton

Beverly Barton has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, Beverly wrote her first book at nine. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, Beverly chose to be a full-time homemaker, aka wife, mother, friend and volunteer. This author of over thirty-five books is a member of Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter. She has won numerous awards, and has made several appearances on bestseller lists.

In loving memory of our cocker spaniel, Cole, who was my faithful companion for nearly fifteen years.

Prologue

Leenie checked the refrigerator for the third time. The bottles of milk were there, as she knew they would be. Just where she’d put them. But she simply had to check a final time, had to make sure nothing had been left undone. After all, this was a turning point in her life, a make-or-break night. As she hurried by the computer desk in her kitchen, she glanced at the list of phone numbers posted by the telephone. Emergency numbers, her cell number, her private number at work, as well as the switchboard number.

Rushing out of the kitchen and down the hall, her heartbeat rapid and her stomach painfully knotted, she wondered why this had to be so difficult. It wasn’t as if she was the first woman in the world to go through this painful separation. Millions of women throughout the world had done what she was doing and most of them could probably sympathize with her feelings of guilt and fear.

As she neared the end of the hall, she slowed her pace, took a deep breath and told herself that she could do this. She was a strong woman. An independent woman. When she reached the nursery, she looked from Debra, who smiled compassionately, to Andrew, who lay sleeping peacefully in his bed, totally unaware of the trauma his mother was experiencing.

“Everything will be all right.” Debra draped her arm around Leenie’s shoulders. “You’ll be gone only a few hours and he’ll probably sleep the entire time you’re away.”

“But if he wakes and I’m not here…” Leenie pulled away from her son’s nanny, walked over to Andrew’s bassinet and watched her six-week-old baby as he slept. His little chest rose and fell softly with each tender breath he took. She reached out to touch his rosy cheek.

“If he wakes, I’ll be right here,” Debra assured her. “And if he’s hungry, you left breast milk in the fridge. You aren’t deserting him forever, you’re just going to work.”

“Maybe we should postpone this another week or so.” Leenie couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from Andrew, even for the four hours it would take her to drive to WJMM, do her two-hour midnight talk-show on the radio, set things up for her morning TV show and then drive home.

“No, we won’t postpone it,” Debra said firmly. “We can continue taking Andrew to the station every morning for your daytime show, but he shouldn’t be dragged out of his bed every night.” Debra crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze. “Go to work, Leenie. You do your job and let me do mine.”

Sighing heavily, Leenie admitted her deepest fears. “But one of my jobs is being Andrew’s mother and if you do your job too well, my son will bond with you and not me.”

Huffing loudly, but following up with an understanding smile, Debra patted Leenie’s arm. “Andrew has already bonded with you. He knows you’re his mother. If I do my job well, and I’d like to think I’ve been doing that since the day we brought Andrew home from the hospital, then he’ll think of me as a favorite aunt or as a grandmother.”

“I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re being a good mother.”

“Am I a good mother? I’m not sure what makes a good mother. As you well know, I didn’t have one of my own. No mother at all raised me, good, bad or otherwise.”

“Jerry and I were parents to over fifty foster kids in our thirty years of marriage.” Debra sighed dreamily, as she always did whenever she mentioned her late husband, who had died two years ago at the age of sixty-three from a heart attack. “I’ve seen all kinds of mothers and I know a good one from a bad one.”

“Yes, I imagine you do. You were certainly an excellent role model for me when I lived with you and Jerry. I learned by watching the way you were with all of us foster children what a good mother is.” She had been fifteen when she’d been sent to live with Debra and Jerry Schmale, a young minister and his wife who’d been told they could never have children of their own and had decided they would give their love and time to unwanted, neglected kids of all ages. The three years she’d spent with the Schmales had been the best years of her childhood.

“You, Dr. Lurleen Patton, are a good mother,” Debra said.

“Even though I’m a single parent? Even though I didn’t provide Andrew with a father?”

“You told me that Andrew was the result of a very brief affair with a man you barely knew. A man who showed no interest in settling down. A man who was very careful to use protection each time y’all made love.”

Leenie nodded. “One of those times, that protection failed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. But that wasn’t Frank’s fault.”

“You made the decision not to tell Andrew’s father about his existence because you felt it was the best thing for everyone concerned. Right?”

“Right.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

No, she hadn’t changed her mind. Although, truth be told, sometimes she wished she had called Frank the day she’d found out she was pregnant, called him and told him he was going to be a daddy. But she’d been so shocked herself that it had taken her weeks to figure out what to do. By the time she decided she wanted to keep her baby and raise it herself, she had also decided that the last thing Frank Latimer would want in his life was a child. Their entire relationship had lasted less than two weeks. Love hadn’t been involved. Just a major case of lust.

“No, I haven’t changed my mind. If Frank knew he had a child, it would simply complicate his life and mine, not to mention Andrew’s.”

Debra turned Leenie around, grasped her shoulders and all but shoved her out of the room. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late.” Debra walked Leenie into the hallway and all the way to the back door. “Call me every thirty minutes, if that will make you feel better—but go. Now!”

Leenie sighed. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Sometimes I think I need you even more than Andrew does.”

Debra hugged her, then lifted Leenie’s jacket and purse from where they hung on a coatrack near the door, handed them to her and said, “Drive carefully, call as often as you need to, have a great show tonight and I’ll be waiting up for you when you come home.”

Leenie slipped into her coat, draped her purse straps over her shoulder and opened the back door that led into the garage. She unlocked her new GMC Envoy SUV, a vehicle she’d purchased a month before her son’s birth. Of course she’d kept her sports car, but hadn’t used it since Andrew had been born because she never went anywhere without him. Use it tonight, she told herself. Get in your Mustang and fly off down the road.

After locking the SUV, she went over to the Mustang, unlocked it and got in, then revved the motor and hit the remote that opened the garage. Within minutes she was zipping along the highway that led from the suburbs of Maysville, Mississippi, into the downtown area where the studios for both WJMM radio and TV stations were located. She’d been doing a late-night radio talk show and a morning TV show for quite a few years and enjoyed being a local celebrity, a psychiatrist who doled out advice over the airwaves five days and nights a week.

When she’d been younger, she had longed to create a family of her own. Having grown up in a series of foster homes and remembering very little about her own parents, she had always felt so alone. Her mother had died when she was four and her father when she was eight. A skinny, gangly girl, who had talked too much and tried too hard to make others like her, she’d never had a real chance of being adopted. From eight to eighteen, she’d been shifted around from foster home to foster home. She’d felt unloved and unwanted all her life and by the time she hit thirty and Prince Charming hadn’t entered her life, she’d pretty much given up hope for that fantasized happily ever after ending in her life.

Although she’d been around the block a few times, as the old saying went, she wasn’t promiscuous. Each time she’d been in a committed relationship, she’d wanted it to be “the one.” And she’d never had a one-night stand. Not until Frank Latimer entered her life. Or should she say breezed in and out of her life. And technically, he hadn’t really been a one-night stand. More like a ten day mini-affair. She’d taken one look at the big lug and fallen hard and fast. They had set the sheets on fire and what she’d thought would be a one-nighter turned into a very brief, extremely passionate relationship.

Leenie wished it wasn’t late November already so she could put the top down on her car and achieve that wild and free feeling it gave her to ride with the wind. Maybe that’s what she needed—some cold night air to clear away the cobwebs. As hard as she tried to relegate Frank Latimer to the back of her mind, to put him into the past where he belonged, she found it difficult, if not impossible, to do. Although Andrew had her blond hair and blue eyes, he resembled Frank or the way she was sure Frank had looked as a baby. And every time she looked at her son, she saw his father. How could she—a psychiatrist who’d been trained to understand the human psyche—have ever thought she’d be able to forget about the man who had fathered her child? Whether or not he was actually in her life, he’d always be a part of it. Andrew was the living, breathing proof of that.

She’d told Debra that she wasn’t having any second thoughts about contacting Frank to let him know he had a child, but maybe she’d been lying to herself as well as Debra. Maybe she should call Frank, feel him out, see if there was somebody special in his life these days. Or maybe she should just fly to Atlanta and take Andrew with her. No, she couldn’t do that, couldn’t just show up on Frank’s doorstep.

Stop debating the issue, she told herself. You’re not going to call Frank. And she wasn’t going to fly to Atlanta. If he had the slightest interest in renewing his relationship with her, he’d have called by now. After all, it was over ten months since he’d said goodbye and walked out of her life without a backward glance. She had to accept the fact that Frank wasn’t her Prince Charming, accept the fact that there was no such animal. Just because he’d been different from the other men she’d known didn’t mean she was as special to him as he had been to her. What they’d had wasn’t love. It was just sex.

Chapter One

Leenie glanced across the table at Jim Isbell, a goodlooking, likable guy. He had asked her out after their initial meeting last week when he’d appeared on her morning TV show in a segment about group therapy. Jim was a psychologist who worked with families in trouble—drugs, alcohol, infidelity and various other problems that plagued many people in today’s complex modern society. This was their first date—one she’d been looking forward to eagerly. It was a simple workday lunch between friends. No strings attached. Nothing that would put pressure on either of them. Everyone who knew her, including Debra, had encouraged her to start dating again. After all, she hadn’t been out with a man since she’d found out she was pregnant. Now Andrew was nearly two months old and adjusting beautifully to having a working mother. Debra brought him to the studio several days a week, but kept him home in his own bed at night. Although Leenie loved her job, her son was the center of her world.

“So, are you interested?” Jim asked.

“Hmm?”

“Dinner and a movie this weekend,” Jim said.

“Oh, uh…yes. That might be nice.” Nice. Such an odd word, with so many meanings. And often a bland word, one that conveyed very little emotion. Oh, jeez, Leenie, don’t overanalyze your response about the date. You meant the word nice in the…well, in the nicest way. She smiled to herself. You like Jim. Obviously he likes you. You’ve had a pleasant lunch, so why not follow up with a dinner date?

Nice? Pleasant? Why not fantastic or great or fabulous or wonderful? What if Frank Latimer asked her out for a dinner date? You wouldn’t be using such lukewarm adjectives, now would you? An inner voice taunted. Stop it! She shouldn’t compare Jim to Frank. They were apples and oranges. Yeah, sure they were, but Jim was such a boring apple and Frank had been such an incredible orange.

Frank with the sexy gray eyes and hard, lean body. Frank, who had memorized every inch of her with his bedroom eyes, with his big hands and his mouth and tongue. Frank, who always looked like an unmade bed and had a way of curling her toes without even touching her.

“Lurleen?”

“Huh?” Apparently Jim had said something to which he expected a response and since she’d been thinking about another man, she hadn’t heard a word Jim had said.

“You’re a million miles away, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, Jim, it’s just that I—”

“No need to explain. You’re thinking about your son, aren’t you? New mothers tend to obsess about their babies. But you really should work your way through those typical feelings about neglecting and abandoning your child in favor of your career. You’re too smart to believe that you have to be the most important person in his life right now. After all, you have a perfectly capable nanny, don’t you?”

“Yes, a very capable nanny.”

“I understand that you have an extra burden of guilt on your shoulders since you’re a single mother.”

Leenie stared at Jim as he continued talking, giving her his opinion about the correct way to rear children, especially a son without a father figure. Not one to take criticism or advice well, his comments aggravated her. Who was he to be giving her advice? Had she asked him to share his wisdom on the subject of raising children?

“Jim!”

With his mouth open midsentence, he stopped talking and looked quizzically at her. “Yes?”

She’d been about to lambaste him, tell him in no uncertain terms that her relationship with her son was none of his damn business. Instead she said, “Let’s order dessert. Cheesecake.”

He arched his eyebrows in a disapproving manner. “Are you sure you want the extra calories? After all, you probably still have some baby fat you want to lose.”

He smiled at her in his good-natured manner. And she wanted to slap him. Baby fat, indeed! She weighed now precisely what she’d weighed before she’d gotten pregnant, having dropped twenty pounds when Andrew was born and another ten in the past two months. Everyone else she knew had marveled over how quickly she’d gotten back in shape.

“Right. No dessert.” It wasn’t the calories she could do without, it was the company. She gritted her teeth to keep from telling him off in no uncertain terms. “Look, I just remembered that I have a previous engagement this weekend, so I’ll have to forego dinner and a movie.” She shoved back her chair and stood.

Ever the gentleman, Jim stood up. “Perhaps lunch again next week, then?”

“Perhaps.” She picked up her purse.

“I’ll call you.”

“Please do. I hate to run, but—”

“Work awaits,” he said.

“Yes.”

She didn’t bother to contradict him, to tell him she was going home where she’d spend the afternoon and early evening with Andrew. Nodding, she forced a smile, then hurried away from the table, out of the restaurant and to her car. Once inside, she checked her watch. Two-fifteen. She’d go on home and be there in time to help put away groceries. About now Debra and Andrew were at Foodland on their weekly shopping excursion. Usually Leenie joined them for lunch on Fridays and afterward they bought groceries together, but today she’d had a date. A waste of time. Time she could have spent with her son.

Wonder if it’s too late to join them at Foodland? She could buy one of those frozen cheesecakes and indulge at supper tonight. That’s what she’d do. Eat cheesecake and forget about Jim Isbell. Out there somewhere was another guy who wouldn’t bore her to tears. Someone as much fun as Frank. As sexy as Frank. As good in bed as Frank.

All right already. Enough about Frank!

Frank is the past. Jim Isbell was a dud. Think about Andrew. And cheesecake.

Frank Latimer stretched out as best he could in his seat, thankful that he was in first class and not stuck back in coach. Most of the time when he flew, it was on the luxurious Dundee jet, but when his latest job had ended today, the jet was already en route to Key West, taking a crew of Dundee’s best for a top secret assignment. He was set for a week off and planned to do some fishing while he relaxed at Sawyer McNamara’s Hilton Head vacation house. He’d been working practically nonstop for nearly a year now. When he’d left Maysville, Mississippi, eleven months ago, he’d taken a European assignment just to get him out of the country and as far away as was possible from a certain long and lean blonde. If there had been a flight to Mars eleven months ago, he’d have taken it.

“Would you care for another glass of tea, Mr. Latimer?” the attractive brunette flight attendant asked. He’d noticed her immediately, the minute he’d boarded his flight from Chicago to Atlanta. Ms. Gant was petite and slender, with big eyes and big boobs and a come-hither smile.

“No, thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Oh, yeah, there was something she could do for him all right. He was in bad need of a warm body in his bed. For months after his whirlwind affair with Leenie Patton, he hadn’t touched another woman. Then he’d convinced himself that what he needed to get Leenie out of his system was a woman—actually a lot of women. He’d tried that, but it hadn’t worked. No one had tasted like Leenie or felt like Leenie or sounded like Leenie. So after gorging himself on nameless, faceless bed partners, he’d sworn off women altogether, at least until he could stop wanting one particular lady—a sexy, wild woman he’d called Slim.

“Mr. Latimer?”

“Huh?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”

No, he wasn’t fine. He was tired. This last job had lasted six weeks and he’d been shot at twice and wound up in three fistfights. He badly needed some major down-time. And Sawyer’s luxurious home in Hilton Head was just the ticket. If he could find a gorgeous, sexy blonde to spend the week with him, he’d have it made. It was time to end his months of celibacy.

The trouble is you don’t want just any gorgeous, sexy blonde. You want Slim. She’s what you want. All you want.

So why not call her up when he landed in Atlanta? And say what? I’ve been thinking about you for eleven months? Every time I slept with somebody else, I wished she was you?

“Hell, no!”

Frank didn’t realize he’d cursed aloud until Ms. Gant said, “Yes, Mr. Latimer, did you say something?”

“Just talking to myself,” he told her. “That happens when you get old.”

She giggled like a teenager and flashed him a brilliant smile. “You’re hardly old.”

“I’m forty,” he admitted, feeling every year of it.

“That’s not old. That’s the prime of life for a man.”

He chuckled. “I thought prime time for a guy was eighteen.”

She moistened her lips. “A man of forty has experience that a younger man doesn’t. I prefer experience.”

She’s putting it out there for you, Latimer, he told himself. All you have to do is take what she’s offering. He was tempted. Damn tempted. Even if she wasn’t a long-legged, willowy blonde.

Leaning down close to his ear, she whispered, “I’ll be in Atlanta overnight.”

“How about dinner?” He’d definitely been celibate long enough. Months of doing without wasn’t his style. It was time he tried sex again. And past time to get Leenie Patton out of his system.

Two blocks from Foodland, Leenie heard the wail of sirens—police and ambulance—and couldn’t help wondering if there had been a bad wreck somewhere nearby. The first thought that flashed through her mind was that Andrew and Debra had been involved in the accident. But she quickly dismissed the idea as nothing more than her tendency to worry much too much about Andrew whenever he was out of her sight. Of course she understood that her worries, concerns and fears were perfectly natural, that almost every new mother experienced these emotions whether she was a working mom or a stay at home mom. Naturally, being a single parent only added to her concerns about motherhood. With each passing day of Andrew’s life, Leenie felt more and more guilty for not having contacted Frank to tell him about their child. She had given herself every reason not to call him, to keep Andrew’s existence a secret from him, but in the end she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Frank had a right to know.

Admit it, she told herself, you’re scared to tell Frank the truth. If she told him and he didn’t want to be a part of Andrew’s life, she’d wonder what kind of man he really was. On the other hand, if he wanted to be a part of his son’s life, but didn’t want her in the bargain, then she’d have to not only share Andrew, but she’d have to accept the fact that she’d never been special to Frank.

As she cruised down the tree-lined street at thirty-five miles an hour, she forced her mind off Frank Latimer and onto cheesecake. Wonder if Foodland has any chocolate cheesecake? she mused.

Suddenly the Lexus in front of her eased to a halt behind a line of other vehicles. Noting that the car’s brake lights had come on, Leenie stopped her SUV and tried to see what lay ahead. Able to make out the whirl of blue flashing lights in the distance, she figured traffic had been stopped at the scene of the accident about a block ahead of her. If the wreck had just occurred, it could take quite a while to clear things up and get traffic moving again. Her lane was stalled and the other lane was empty, as if traffic had been stopped on the other side of the police car up ahead. She sighed. I should have gone home instead of heading to Foodland to meet up with Debra and Andrew, she thought. If she got stuck here for very long, she’d call Debra on her cell phone to let her know why she was delayed.

Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she hummed. And waited. Suddenly an ambulance flew by, its siren mournfully eerie. Once again, an odd sensation hit Leenie in the pit of her stomach. Don’t do this to yourself, she cautioned. Stop thinking Debra’s Saturn was involved in the wreck. Debra and Andrew were either still at Foodland or they were stalled on the other side of the accident and were waiting in line, just as she was.

As the minutes ticked by, Leenie tried to think of other things. Her boring lunch date with Jim. The topics she planned to discuss tonight on her midnight radio show before she took phone calls. Andrew’s latest doctor’s checkup when she’d been told he was absolutely perfect, something she’d already known, of course. Getting his two-month pictures made next week. He was such a beautiful child. He had her coloring. Blond hair and blue eyes. But he had Frank’s mouth…and his little hands and feet were miniature replicas of Frank’s. Odd that she could remember so well everything about a man she’d known for such a brief time.

A heavyset guy in the truck ahead of the Lexus in front of her got out and walked down the street, in the direction of the wreck. It never ceased to amaze her how curious people were about disasters, as if some weird inner force drew them to blood and gore.

She checked her watch. Less than five minutes had passed since she’d stopped. It seemed more like thirty. If there was one thing she hated, it was wasting time. Surely it wouldn’t take that much longer before the police would get the traffic moving again, even if only in one lane.

A tow truck went by about the same time the man who’d gone to take a look at the scene came walking back up the street. Several people in other vehicles either got out to talk to him or rolled down their windows to ask him questions. A small crowd gathered in the middle of the road. Leenie rolled down her window, intending to holler and ask if the guy thought they’d be stuck here much longer, then she heard him say something that made her blood run cold.

“They were putting a gray-haired woman in the ambulance,” he said. “It looked bad. Somebody had T-boned her Saturn on the driver’s side and crushed it in.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t make out much, but there was a baby’s car seat in back.”

Leenie flung open the door, jumped out and ran, leaving the door open, her keys in the ignition and her purse lying on the seat. As she raced past the small crowd, they turned to stare at her, and one person even called out to her. She ignored everyone and everything. By the time she reached the scene of the accident, her breath was labored and her lungs ached. Fear consumed her. When she saw Debra’s blue Saturn, she stopped dead still. While she stood there trembling, gasping for air, the ambulance drove past her. She reached out as if she could grab it and stop it.

Andrew! Debra! Her mind screamed their names.

A policeman approached her. “Ma’am, you need to move out of the way.”

“Please, I have to—you don’t understand.”

“Ma’am are you all right?”

“Andrew and Debra. How badly were they hurt?”

“Do you know Mrs. Schmale?” he asked.

Numbness set in. Leenie nodded. “She’s my nanny.”

“Then you’re Dr. Patton?”

“Yes, I’m Lurleen Patton.”

The uniformed officer put his arm around Leenie’s shoulders and led her out of the street and onto the sidewalk. Without protest, as if in a trance, she went with him.

“Mrs. Schmale is on her way to the hospital,” he explained. “She has cuts, bruises, a broken arm and leg and possible internal bleeding. But she was conscious and able to tell us what happened.”

“And Andrew?” Leenie asked.

When she noted the peculiar look on the policeman’s face, her heart caught in her throat. Was Andrew dead? God, please, no. No! Surely he was all right. Debra always placed him in the regulation seat in the back of her car. And since it had been a driver’s side collision…

“Your son…Andrew…” The officer paused, swallowed as if wishing he didn’t have to deliver bad news, then said, “Mrs. Schmale told us that a white car came out of nowhere, crashed into her car and the driver jumped out and came to help her. Or so she thought. The driver—a woman—had Mrs. Schmale unlock the doors so she could get in on the other side. Before she realized what was happening, the woman got in the back seat and removed the baby from the car seat. Your nanny thought the woman was simply making sure Andrew was all right. But—”

Leenie swayed toward the officer, then grasped his shoulders and said, “Where is Andrew?”

“The woman took him, put him in her car and drove away,” the policeman explained.

“What?”

“We’ve got an all-points bulletin out for the car—an older model white Buick—and the woman—medium height, weight, short brown hair, sunglasses.”

The reality of the situation hit Leenie like a ton of bricks falling on her head. “Andrew was…was…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word, as if not voicing it aloud kept it from being a reality.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Patton, but your baby has been kidnapped.”

Chapter Two

Leenie couldn’t sit still. She felt as if a hundred-mile-an-hour freight train was surging through her. Nerves. Adrenaline. Fear beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Everyone kept telling her to go lie down, take a nap or just rest. Police Chief Ryan Bibb had suggested calling her doctor for a sedative. She knew the man meant well, but why couldn’t he—and all the other people who had congregated at her house—understand that she didn’t want her senses dulled, that she couldn’t sleep or rest. Her baby had been kidnapped. Stolen from her by only God knew what sort of person. She’d overheard the local police surmising about the general identity of Andrew’s abductor.

“She’s probably some woman who either lost a baby or has a fixation about having a child,” Chief Bibb had said. “And if that’s the case, she’ll take good care of Andrew.”

Leenie supposed that believing the kidnapper was taking good care of her baby should be some comfort. It wasn’t. Anyone capable of stealing a child had mental problems, whatever their reason.

“Why don’t you let me fix you some tea?” Haley Wilson said, as she put her arm around Leenie’s shoulder.

The plump brunette, who’d taken over as the manager of WJMM eleven months ago when Elsa Leone—now Elsa Devlin since she’d married—had moved to Knoxville, was a bubbly, energetic woman in her mid-forties and the mother of two teenage sons. From the minute Leenie and she met, they had bonded. Instant friendship. Haley had been the first person she’d called, the first person who’d come to mind when the police had asked her about a friend or family member to stay with her. Haley had dropped everything and rushed to Maysville Memorial, where Leenie had been waiting for Debra to come out of surgery. Haley stayed with her and they had prayed for Debra and for Andrew. Thankfully, Debra had come through the surgery to stop her internal bleeding with flying colors.

“Mrs. Schmale will be in intensive care for the next twenty-four hours,” Dr. Brenner had explained. “But I expect a full and speedy recovery.”

Knowing that Debra would be all right gave Leenie a great sense of relief. She loved Debra dearly, as a friend and mother figure. The police had said that Debra’s ability to accurately describe the kidnapper and the car she’d been driving would be of immeasurable help in locating Andrew.

“Leenie.” Haley shook her gently. “Come on in the kitchen with me. You can sit down long enough for me to fix you some tea.”

“I don’t want anything to drink.”

“Come in the kitchen with me anyway,” Haley said. “I’m going to prepare fresh coffee for those FBI people who just arrived and since it’s nearly morning, maybe I should offer to make breakfast, too. Why don’t you help me?”

Leenie stared at Haley, understanding what she’d said, but not comprehending.

Haley hugged her. “You can’t keep pacing the floor and you can’t keep going into Andrew’s room every ten minutes. You need something to do.”

“You’re right. Staring at Andrew’s crib in the nursery won’t make him miraculously appear.” Emotion lodged in Leenie’s throat. Don’t cry, she told herself. Crying isn’t going to help. You have to stay strong and in control.

“They’ll find him and bring him home to you.” Haley hugged her again, then grasped her hand and tugged. “Come on. Let’s make us some tea first, then put on fresh coffee for the others. After that I’ll take breakfast orders. And I expect you to eat. Even if it’s just a few bites.”

Leenie followed her friend into the kitchen, thankful that she had someone with her, someone who understood what it meant to be a mother with a baby boy lost. No, not lost—stolen. Suddenly feeling as if they had become glued to the spot, her feet wouldn’t move. The reality of Andrew’s disappearance struck her once again, but harder this time, and she sensed that he was being taken farther and farther away from her.

“Leenie?”

“Oh, God, what if—what if—” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Haley grabbed her and pulled her into her arms. “Cry, dammit. Cry your eyes out.”

Leenie fell apart. She sobbed until she was spent. Was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? She didn’t know. And all the while Haley held her and stroked her back and murmured soothing, comforting words that Leenie barely heard. As she gulped down the lingering sobs, she lifted her head and looked into Haley’s kind hazel eyes.

Haley grasped her shoulders and offered her a fragile smile. “Go wash your face and when you get back, I’ll have a cup of tea waiting for you.”

Leenie nodded, but before she could turn around, the kitchen door opened and a tall, dark stranger entered. He wasn’t one of the local police and he wasn’t one of the three FBI agents who had arrived less than an hour ago.

“Dr. Patton?” The golden-eyed man looked right at Leenie.

“Yes.”

When he came forward and held out his right hand, she noticed an onyx and diamond ring on his third finger. “I’m Special Agent Dante Moran. I’ll be heading up this case.”

She shook his hand. Warm. Firm.

“Could we sit and talk, Dr. Patton?” he asked.

“I’ve talked to the police and to the other FBI agents,” she told him. “I don’t know what more there is to say.”

“No one has discussed possible scenarios with you, have they? Told you what we might be dealing with in Andrew’s case?”

She shook her head.

He nodded toward the kitchen table. “Want to sit down?”

“No, I—I can’t sit.”

“All right.” He shrugged. “We aren’t sure what we’re dealing with here. It’s possible that whoever took Andrew simply wanted a baby. If that’s—”

“Then she’ll probably take good care of him,” Leenie said sarcastically.

“Yeah, and I realize that doesn’t make you feel any better. But it’s better than the other possibilities.”

“Which are?”

“He was taken for ransom.”

“I’m not rich.”

“Not rich, but wealthy,” Moran said. “And you are a local celebrity.”

“Hell.”

“If Andrew was taken for a ransom, we’ll be hearing from the kidnapper soon.”

“And if he wasn’t taken for a ransom?”

“He could have been stolen by someone who intends to sell him. There’s a profitable market for stolen babies, especially WASP babies. Blond, blueeyed. And then there’s the other possibility.” He looked Leenie square in the eyes. “The worst case scenario is—”

“Dammit, Mr. Moran, do you have to come right out and say it?” Haley practically screamed at the FBI agent.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He glanced from Leenie to Haley and then focused on Leenie again. “Rest assured that we’re going to do everything in our power to find Andrew and bring him home to you safe and sound.”

“Yes, I—I know you will.”

“What about Andrew’s father?” Moran asked. “I understand you two aren’t married, but don’t you think that, under the circumstances, you should contact him to let him know his son has been kidnapped?”

Leenie didn’t respond; she simply stared into Moran’s yellow-brown eyes. After an endless moment, he shrugged. “Why don’t you get some rest, Dr. Patton? We can talk again later. Special Agent Walker explained to you the procedure if the phone rings and that we’ll screen anyone who comes to the door and—”

“He explained,” Haley said.

Moran nodded, then walked out of the kitchen.

Leenie took a deep breath. What about Andrew’s father? That question repeated itself over and over again inside her head. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already asked herself the same thing several times during the night. She had been wrestling with indecision about whether to tell Frank about Andrew’s existence since the day her baby was born. But now that Andrew had been abducted, it made the decision all the more difficult. What could she do, call Frank and say, “By the way, we have a baby boy and he’s been kidnapped.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Haley said.

“Yeah, but do you know what I should do?”

“Oh, honey, that’s a toughie. What’s your heart telling you to do?”

Leenie groaned. “It’s telling me that I need Frank, that somehow he can help.”

“And what does your brain tell you?”

“That Frank is a Dundee agent, with the resources of the entire agency at his disposal, that he can do things the law can’t do and that the Dundee Agency has strong ties to the FBI and—”

“Your heart and your mind are telling you to contact Frank Latimer,” Haley said.

She sighed. “How do I tell him about Andrew over the phone?”

“Good question. Is there someone else you could call, someone who could get Frank here under some other pretense so that you can tell him face-to-face?”

“I don’t know—” Leenie paused. “Well there is Elsa. Maybe my old boss at WJMM, Elsa Devlin, could arrange it. Her husband used to be a Dundee agent. And she and I are good friends.”

“So call Elsa.”

“If I do, she’ll come back to Maysville to be with me and she’s pregnant and—No, I’m not going to upset Elsa. There was a female Dundee agent named Kate Malone who worked on Elsa’s case with Frank. Maybe I could contact her.” Agitated and uncertain, Leenie paced the floor. “Oh, hell, maybe I’m complicating this much too much. Maybe I should just call Frank and tell him.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For lightning to strike, I guess. For some sign that calling him is the right thing to do.”

“If you feel you can’t call Frank, call this Kate Malone and ask for her help.”

“If she tells Frank that I have a child, he’ll know or at the very least suspect the baby is his. Maybe it’s better if I don’t involve Frank. I don’t think I can handle telling him. Not now. Not under these circumstances.”

Frank boarded the Dundee jet, Kate Malone at his side. This was a first for him—flying off on an assignment and not knowing where he was going. Kate had come to his apartment this morning and met the lovely flight attendant, Heather Gant, just as Heather was leaving. Although she hadn’t said anything, Kate had lifted a judgmental eyebrow at Frank as the woman passed her in the hall. Ending his months of celibacy was reason for celebration, so he’d been feeling pretty good when Kate showed up.

“Shave and take a shower,” Kate had told him. “We’re off on an assignment as soon as we can get to the airport.”

“No way, I’ve got vacation time coming.”

“It’s been canceled. You’re needed on this job.”

“Can’t another agent handle it? Why me?”

“I’ll fill you in on the plane,” she’d told him. “We have a child kidnapping and the family wants Dundee involved.”

“How does the FBI feel about us interfering?”

“Not thrilled. But our old friend Dante Moran is heading up the case, so he knows we won’t work at cross purposes with his people.”

So, he’d agreed to come along with Kate without putting up too much of a fuss. Although her reasons were apparently personal—and as a general rule none of his fellow agents nosed into other agents’ past lives—everyone at Dundee knew that Kate always took a keen interest in any case involving a kidnapped baby. Shortly before leaving her job as Dundee’s CEO, Ellen Denby had hired Kate, who was a former Atlanta P.D. officer, just as Ellen had been. And rumor was that they had worked together when Kate was a rookie.

Frank munched on a cheese danish, then washed it down with black coffee. If he hadn’t been such a sucker for a sob story—single mother, overwrought with fear, and an abducted two-month-old boy—he’d be on his way to Sawyer’s Hilton Head vacation retreat instead of being midair, flying off on an assignment that was sure to be pure hell on the nerves. Dealing with overwrought mamas wasn’t his speciality. He’d leave coddling the abducted kid’s mommy to Kate.

He swigged on the coffee, then set aside the dark blue mug with the gold Dundee emblem. “Exactly where are we going?”

“South,” Kate replied.

“Could you be more specific?”

“The deep South.”

“Why all the secrecy? It’s just a child abduction case, isn’t it? Nothing hush-hush.”

“Yes.”

An odd sensation hit him in the gut. Kate had rushed him around so much at his apartment, assuring him she’d give him all the info on their plane trip, that he hadn’t actually thought things through. But something didn’t feel right about this whole thing.

“We’re working on the case as partners,” he said. “That means I need to know everything you know.”

“Right.”

“So fill me in.”

“Okay, but I need to tell you things from the beginning. Or at least my beginning.”

He nodded.

“Daisy got in touch with me this morning as soon as she arrived at Dundee. A woman named Haley Wilson had phoned her and asked specifically for me. I returned Ms. Wilson’s call because she had told Daisy that we had a mutual acquaintance whose infant son had been kidnapped.”

“So this is personal for you?”

“In a way, but…”

Kate stared at him with a peculiar look of concern in her eyes, and Frank’s gut tightened painfully. “But what?”

“Ah, hell, Frank, there’s no easy way to say this.”

“So, say it, will you?”

“The mutual acquaintance is Dr. Lurleen Patton.”

Although he’d thought about her, dreamed about her, cursed her for nearly destroying his love life, no one had mentioned her name in eleven months.

“Leenie?”

“Yes, Leenie.”

It took him a full minute to wrap his mind around the idea that Leenie had an infant son. “Leenie has a baby?”

“A little boy.”

“How old?”

“Two months.”

He did the math quickly, but even before adding up eleven months since he’d been with Leenie, he’d known the truth. “The baby’s mine.”

“Yes.”

Then reality sucker punched him. “Leenie’s baby has been kidnapped?”

“Yesterday afternoon. Someone crashed their vehicle into the nanny’s car. The nanny was injured, but she’ll live. The woman who caused the wreck stole the baby from his car seat.”

“It is my baby, right?” How was it possible? he asked himself. Yes, he and Leenie had had sex. Repeatedly. But not once had he forgotten to use a condom.

“The lady who called me, this Haley Wilson, is Leenie’s best friend and she says the baby is definitely yours.”

“Why the hell didn’t she—God, Kate, I’m a father.”

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, then squeezed. “Ms. Wilson said that Leenie is trying very hard to be strong and brave, but she’s falling apart. She needs you.”

“She needs me now. What about when she first found out she was pregnant? Or when the baby was born?” Frank growled the questions, outrage bringing his blood to a boil.

“And even now, with our child abducted, she’s not the one who called and asked for me. Damn her!”

Leenie showered and changed clothes around noon, and at Haley’s insistence lay down on the bed. She’d been staring up at the ceiling for the past hour. How could she sleep when she had no idea where Andrew was or what had happened to him? Didn’t anyone understand that she was slowly going out of her mind? Although she’d tried to convince herself that it was only a matter of time before the FBI found her baby and brought him home to her, she hadn’t been able to escape the wide-awake nightmares that plagued her. What if Andrew had been killed, maybe even tortured?

Keening mournfully, Leenie wrapped her arms around herself and rolled over in the bed. Oh, God, please take care of Andrew. Don’t let anyone hurt him. Tears gathered in her eyes. She swallowed hard.

A sharp knock on the bedroom door gained her immediate attention. She sat straight up. “Yes?”

“Leenie, there’s someone here to see you,” Haley said through the closed door.

“I don’t want to see anyone. Please tell whoever it is that—”

The door flew open. Frank Latimer stormed into her bedroom. Frank? Frank! What was he doing here? How had he found out about—?

He marched across the room to the bed, reached down, grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. They stood there staring at each other. Leenie’s heartbeat accelerated at an alarming speed.

“Why the hell didn’t you let me know I had a son?” he demanded.

Leenie trembled from head to toe, but she kept her gaze locked with his. “How did you—who told you about Andrew?”

“I did.” Haley stepped into the bedroom, Kate Malone directly behind her. “Well, actually, I spoke to Ms. Malone and she told him about Andrew and what had happened.”

“Leenie, we’re here to help,” Kate said. “You have all of Dundee’s resources and manpower at your service. We’re going to work with Moran…with the FBI to find your little boy.” Kate came over and grasped Frank’s arm. “And despite his less than pleasant greeting, Frank is here to help you.” She shook his arm. “Aren’t you, Frank?”

He broke eye contact with Leenie long enough to confront Kate. “How about you two let me talk to Leenie alone, without an audience.”

“Is that all right with you?” Haley asked Leenie. She nodded.

Haley glared at Frank. “I’m the one responsible for your knowing about Andrew. Don’t make me regret what I did.” She hurriedly left the room.

After letting go of his arm, Kate hesitated. “The absolute worst thing that can happen when a child is kidnapped is for her—or his—parents to blame each other and be at each other’s throats. What Leenie needs right now, Frank, is your understanding and your support.”

He didn’t reply, but he released his tenacious hold on Leenie’s arm. Kate gave him a warning glare before leaving them alone. For several minutes the silence between them pulsated throughout the bedroom. A bedroom in which they had made mad, passionate love on more than one occasion. She couldn’t help remembering and her body warmed as those luscious memories encompassed her. Frank’s hard body pressing her into the mattress as he plunged into her. The feel of his strong arms holding her. His moist lips on hers, at her breasts. His fingers caressing, probing, tantalizing. For a millisecond she stopped breathing.

“I spoke to Dante Moran…briefly,” Frank said, his voice tight and controlled. “The local police found the vehicle that crashed into your nanny’s car. It was abandoned outside of town. Naturally there was no sign of the baby. Our baby.”

“His name is Andrew,” Leenie said.

He clenched his jaw, then said, “My middle name.”

She nodded. “Andrew Latimer Patton.”

Frank huffed, then frowned and shifted his shoulders. “Damn, Leenie, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Pride maybe. Too proud to ask for your help when I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself and a child without a father. Or maybe I was scared that you’d do the honorable thing and ruin all our lives. I don’t know. We weren’t even a couple, not really. We had a fling. No strings attached. We used protection. You left and never called or—”

“I thought about calling,” he told her.

Had he? she wondered. She wanted to believe him, but it really didn’t matter. He might have thought about it, but he hadn’t called. Not once in nearly a year. “Admit it, Frank, if Haley hadn’t called Kate and you didn’t know about Andrew, you’d never have gotten in touch with me.”

“We can’t know that for sure, can we? Besides, that’s a moot point now anyway.”

“Actually my not telling you about your child is a moot point.” She wanted to touch Frank, to put her arms around him and beg him to hold her. “Until we find Andrew, nothing else matters.”

“You’re right. Finding our son is our only concern. Everything else can be sorted out later, once we bring him home.”

“For what it’s worth…” she paused and looked right at Frank “…I’m glad you’re here.”

Chapter Three

Frank had left Leenie in her bedroom and gone through the house, out the back door and onto the porch. For late November, it was unseasonably warm. Probably somewhere in the high sixties and not a rain cloud in the sky. He’d gotten away from Leenie as fast as he could because he’d sensed that she had wanted him to put his arms around her and hold her. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. And not just because he was angry with her, that a part of him wanted to wring that long, smooth neck of hers for keeping his son a secret from him. He knew that if he touched her, she’d work that crazy magic spell on him and make him want to stay with her, hold on to her, make love to her and never let her go. When he’d left Maysville eleven months ago after his assignment ended, he’d sworn he’d never look back. The way Leenie turned him inside out had scared the hell out of him. He’d decided a long time ago that no woman was ever again going to do a number on him. No way was he going to let Leenie twist him around her little finger.

Yeah, well, Frank old buddy, maybe Leenie knew exactly how you felt. It wasn’t as if he’d made a big secret of not wanting anything beyond a brief affair. He had told her he was not the type of guy for a committed relationship. Is it any wonder that when she found out she was pregnant, she didn’t pick up the phone and call him? She probably had serious doubts he’d be thrilled to hear he was a father-to-be.

Okay, so maybe he had to accept part of the blame. Maybe he shouldn’t take all his anger out on her.

The last time Frank had allowed anything to tear him apart inside had been twelve years ago when he’d walked in on his wife in bed with another man. They’d been married for two years and he’d been fool enough to think they were happy. He had been happy. Apparently Rita hadn’t been. She’d decided she wanted more than Frank could give her and zeroed in on her married boss, a guy twice her age. Even now, after all these years, Frank could still remember how it felt seeing their naked bodies writhing on the bed. His bed, the one he’d slept in every night with Rita. And he could almost feel the power in the repeated punches he’d inflicted on Rodney Klyce. He’d beaten the hell out of the guy, but Klyce hadn’t pressed charges. He’d wanted the whole thing kept quite because of his wife. But before Frank had packed his bags and left town, he’d called Mrs. Klyce. A bitter, vengeful thing to have done, but he’d never regretted it. He’d later heard she’d divorced Klyce and taken him for half his net worth. He’d also heard that Rita married Klyce, then divorced him a few years later and moved on to greener pastures. By now she’d probably gone through half a dozen husbands, and he could truthfully say he didn’t give a damn.

He’d been a fool about Rita, a brown-eyed beauty with flaming red hair. She’d made him forget all about his solemn vow to never marry, to never repeat his parents’ mistake. Their battle royale divorce when he was twelve should have proven to him how easily love can turn to hate and that eventually hate evolved into apathy. But learning that lesson a second time—firsthand—had seared it into both his conscious and subconscious. Love affairs were okay. Love was not. After Rita, he’d shut himself off from anything other than lust and sex. He’d thought that was all it had been with Leenie. Even when he’d realized he couldn’t get her out of his mind, couldn’t forget her, he’d halfway convinced himself that what he really couldn’t forget was the fantastic sex.

You don’t love her, he told himself. You aren’t capable of love.

But the fact that he’d gotten her pregnant and she’d given birth to his child bonded them forever, marriage or no marriage. He had a son. A two-month-old son.

Frank cursed under his breath, then pounded his fist against the doorframe. He’d never given fatherhood a thought. When he’d sworn off love and marriage, naturally he’d assumed there wouldn’t be any kids in his future and that had been fine with him. He was forty damn years old. Too old to become a first-time father.

The more he thought about the situation, the more he came to realize why Leenie hadn’t told him about Andrew. If he’d been Leenie, he wouldn’t have called him with the news. He was lousy father material. He needed to talk to her, apologize for acting like a jerk. The woman had been traumatized enough by her baby’s kidnapping and all he’d done was add to that trauma.

Just as he reached out to open the back door, Kate and Moran came outside onto the porch. He could tell by their expressions that the news wasn’t good.

“What’s happened?” Frank asked.

“Nothing new,” Kate said. “But Dante has some information he’s willing to share with you, not as Andrew’s father, but as a Dundee agent who has certain government clearances and is deemed totally trustworthy.”

“Cut the crap and lay it on the line,” Frank told her.

“It’s good news and bad news,” she said.

“We’re fairly certain we know who kidnapped your son,” Special Agent Moran said.

“What?” Frank glared at Moran.

“Not the name of a person, but an organization,” Kate said. “The good news is that the FBI is reasonably certain the woman who stole Andrew isn’t some nutcase who’ll kill him or keep him for herself.”

“And just what makes the Feds so certain?” He looked to Moran for the answer.

“We unearthed information about an infant abduction ring several years ago,” Moran said. “We’re not sure how long it’s been in operation, but we suspect at least ten years. We’re on the verge of setting up a sting operation that will lead us right to the top, to the people making big money by stealing Caucasian babies and selling them to unsuspecting couples who’ll gladly pay a hundred thousand or more for a cuddly blue-eyed, blond-haired baby.”

“Hell. Are you telling me that you think Andrew was stolen by this baby abduction ring?”

“The odds are pretty high that he’ll soon be sold to the highest bidder.”

“Son of a bitch.” Frank glowered at Kate. “And this is the good news?”

“At least there’s a good chance they’ll take care of him because he’s worth a great deal of money to them.”

In desperation Frank said, “What if we run an ad in the paper offering more than a hundred grand for Andrew’s safe return?”

“These people aren’t going to take any chances on getting caught,” Moran said. “Selling these kids to adoptive parents is easy money because it’s safe. The people who adopt these babies aren’t going to ask too many questions about where their baby came from, now are they?”

“How close are you guys to nabbing them?”

“You know I can’t tell you the details.” Moran felt in his coat pocket, then patted his shirt pocket before letting his hand fall to his side. “I quit smoking nearly a year ago, but I can’t kick the habit of reaching for one now and again.”

“How close?” Frank repeated.

“Close.”

“I want in on the sting.”

“You know that’s not possible.”

“Who are these people and where do we find them?” Frank caught the sidelong glances Kate and Moran exchanged. “There’s a good chance Andrew will be the next baby up on the auction block, so why not send me and Kate in as prospective parents?”

“We’ve got federal agents who can do that. Besides, you’re the kidnapped boy’s father. You’re too close to this to—”

Frank grabbed Moran by his lapels and hauled him close so that they were eye-to-eye.

“If it were your kid, what would you do?”

Moran, cool as a cucumber, looked directly at Frank and said, “I’d want to go in myself and get my child and then I’d want to kill every bastard involved in the abduction ring…kill them with my bare hands.”

Frank loosened his hold on Moran’s suit, then released the lapels and took a deep breath. “And some stupid federal agent would stop you.”

Moran’s lips twitched with a hint of a smile. “You know it.”

“How much can I tell Leenie?” Frank asked.

“Tell her about the abduction ring and our suspicions that Andrew was stolen by these slimeballs, but that’s it. If and when we make a move, you can tell her afterward, hopefully when we bring her son home to her.”

“She’ll be mad as hell at all of us,” Frank said.

“After the way you treated her in there, I’d say she’s already mad as hell at you,” Kate told him. “Maybe you should go back inside and talk to her, even apologize.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Kate smiled. “Could be there’s hope for you yet, Latimer.”

Leenie ran a comb through her hair, then opened her jewelry case and removed a pair of gold and diamond earrings. She’d been wearing these the first time she’d seen Frank. He’d come into WJMM as part of the Dundee team sent to Maysville to protect Elsa Leone against death threats nearly a year ago. He and Kate had been the investigative team and they’d set up shop in Elsa’s office in the WJMM studio complex. The minute she’d met Frank, she’d wanted him. And she’d had him in record time. She had thought he’d be her first one-night stand; instead their encounter had turned out to be the first time she’d ever had sex with someone she’d just met, someone little more than a stranger. But with Frank it had seemed right not to wait. The sex had been incredible. They’d set the sheets on fire and sent off skyrockets. And the more they had sex, the more they’d wanted it. They couldn’t get enough of each other.

Leenie slipped the earrings on, then slid her fingers down the side of her neck, remembering the feel of Frank’s big, rough fingers caressing her.

While she stood staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes glazed over with memories, Haley came in and walked up behind her. “You haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive. Why don’t you let me make you a sandwich.”

“Food won’t help,” Leenie said. “I feel as if I eat a bite, I’ll throw it up.”

“How did things go with Frank?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“What did he do?”

“He hates me.” Leenie sighed. “And I can’t blame him. He had every right to know about his son. He doesn’t understand why I didn’t tell him I was pregnant.”

A deep male voice said, “Yes, he does understand.”

Leenie gasped when she saw Frank’s reflection in the mirror. Haley turned around and gave him a withering glare as she moved past him toward the door.

Haley paused, glanced over her shoulder and said, “See if you can get her to eat something. And if you say or do anything to upset her, you’ll answer to me.”

The minute Haley closed the door, Frank came up behind Leenie. Her breath caught in her throat. A part of her still wanted his arms around her; another part of her wanted to tell him to go away and leave her alone. She simply stood there, those stupid diamond earrings glimmering in the fading late afternoon sunlight coming through the sheer window curtains. Why had she put on these earrings? Had she thought he’d actually remember her wearing them?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She looked at his reflection in the mirror and plainly saw the sincerity of his words in the expression on his face. And in his eyes. Those stormy-sea gray eyes that spoke volumes.

Emotion tightened her throat. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded.

He touched her then. Those big, hard hands tenderly clutched her shoulders. Don’t fall apart, she told herself. Don’t crumble and fall into his arms. He’s not here for you. He came because of Andrew.

“I know you had your reasons for not telling me you were pregnant,” he said. “You probably figured I wouldn’t relish the news of impending fatherhood.”

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

His hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders. “After the way we ended things, you had no reason to think I’d want to be a part of Andrew’s life.”

“I should have told you,” she finally managed to say.

“It doesn’t matter now. Finding Andrew and bringing him home is what matters. And I swear to you, Leenie, I’ll move heaven and earth to do that.”

She swallowed the tears choking her. Of its own accord her body swayed backward toward his and the minute it did, he slid his hands downward from her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her. Her back pressed against his chest and for the first time since Andrew had been kidnapped, she felt a sense of hope. Crazy as the notion was, her heart believed that Frank could keep his promise to bring their baby home to her.

“I love him so,” she said. “He’s everything…to…me.” Her shaky voice grew softer with each word as she tried in vain to keep from crying. “At first I couldn’t…cry. Now I—I can’t…seem…to stop…crying.”

Hugging her comfortingly, he lowered his head and pressed his cheek against her temple. “I wish I could cry. God knows I feel like it.”

Startled by his comment, she stiffened in his arms. Frank Latimer crying? She couldn’t imagine it. Was he saying that he cared about Andrew, even loved him? Was it possible that he was actually pleased about having a son? Or was his reaction strictly impersonal, the kind any normal person would have after learning a two-month-old baby had been kidnapped?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You’re wondering what kind of man I am, if I’m pleased to be a father or horrified. You’re thinking how dare he care now, after the fact. Why didn’t he call me after he left Maysville nearly a year ago? He’s a day late and a dollar short.”

As the tension drained from her body, she allowed his strength to support her. Instinct told her that despite their past history, Frank was a man she could lean on, a man she could count on when the chips were down. And God knew she needed somebody strong right now, someone who felt what she felt—the panic and terror, the excruciating pain. Only Andrew’s father could even begin to understand the depth of her feelings.

“How do you feel about having a child?” She avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror. She knew that no matter what he said, his true reaction would show on his face. She’d learned that much about him during their brief interlude. Frank Latimer did not have a poker face.

He turned her in his arms. “Look at me, Leenie.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his and saw confusion in his eyes, as well as concern.

“I’m not sure how I feel,” he admitted. “I never thought about being a father. I knew, after my divorce, that I’d never get married again. And I’m just old-fashioned enough to think a guy should get married before he fathers a child. I don’t have unsafe sex. You know that.”

“Condoms aren’t foolproof,” she told him. “And I wasn’t on the pill. Most doctors recommend another form of birth control for women after they turn thirty-five.”

“You don’t have to explain. We thought we were being careful. Responsible. Accident’s happen.”

“Is that how you think of Andrew, as an accident?” Heat suffused her face as her temper rose.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. All I’m saying is that Andrew’s conception was an accident. I just found out today that I’m a father. Give me some time to figure out what I think about having a child. You had nine months of pregnancy and two months with Andrew to figure out how you feel. Did you know immediately when you found out you were pregnant that you wanted the child, that you loved him?”

Well, he had her there. No, of course she hadn’t known immediately that she loved and wanted her baby. When she’d read the home pregnancy test, she’d panicked. And when the doctor had confirmed her condition, she’d stayed in a state of shock for days. She had even considered an abortion. But only for about two minutes.

“You’re right. I was being unfair putting you on the spot that way.”

He cupped her face with his hands. “I do know this—I care about Andrew. And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring our son home to you. Once he’s back in your arms, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

“Fair enough.” She swallowed fresh tears.

“I realize we’re little more than strangers to each other. We had a whirlwind love affair and we spent most of our time making love, not getting acquainted.”

She nodded.

“I’d like to learn more about Andrew, if you’re willing to talk to me about him. It might help you. Hell, it might help both of us. But if you’d rather not, it’s okay.”

She pulled away from Frank, walked across the room and picked up the most recent photograph of her baby. “This was taken a few weeks ago. It’s a picture of him I took with my digital camera. I enlarged it and framed it.” She held it out to Frank.

He didn’t move for a couple of minutes, as if he were afraid of the picture. Was he wondering how his first glimpse of his son would affect him?

“He’s asleep in this picture, so you can’t see his eyes.” She moved toward Frank, the framed photograph in her hand. “He has blue eyes, like mine. And blond hair. Not much hair, mostly just baby-fine fluff.” He has your mouth, your chin and your hands and feet, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “He’s big for his age. He weighed nine pounds, five ounces, when he was born.”

Frank glanced down at the picture, then reached out and took it. He stared at the photo for what seemed like forever, then smiled and said, “He looks like you. Lucky kid.”

Leenie clenched her teeth to keep from crying.

“I guess he’ll grow up to be tall, huh, since I’m six-three and you’re—what?—five-nine or ten.” Frank looked at her.

She nodded. “He has big hands and big feet. Long toes and long fingers.” She cast her gaze on Frank’s hand holding the frame.

“Like me.” He looked at Andrew’s picture again, then handed it back to Leenie.

She placed the frame on the bedside table and slumped down on the edge of the bed. When she turned back to Frank, she noticed he was headed toward the door. Don’t leave me, she wanted to cry, please don’t leave me.

He glanced back at her. “I need to get my bag out of the rental car. I’m going to stay here with you until we find Andrew, if that’s all right.”

Her heart soared. “Yes. Yes, it’s all right with me.”

He offered her a forced smile, then opened the door.

“Thank you,” she called.

He paused momentarily, but didn’t turn or speak; then he left.

When Frank brought his bag in, Haley Wilson stopped him in the foyer. “Are you planning on staying?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Look, Ms. Wilson, if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

“All right. Leenie is one of the strongest, most independent women I know. But she’s vulnerable right now. Her whole life is hanging in the balance because Andrew is her life. I don’t know if you can understand that, but as a mother myself, I do. So, no matter what your own feelings are or how you plan to deal with things when y’all get Andrew back, right now, Leenie needs you. She needs your support and your comfort.”

“I agree.”

Haley stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “She hasn’t slept since the night before last and she hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I’ve gotten her to drink a little tea, but that’s all. Do you think you could get her to eat?”

“Is there any cheesecake in the house?” Frank asked, remembering how they had devoured cheesecake at dawn, after a marathon lovemaking session.

Haley cocked her head sideways and smiled. “You do know a little something about her, don’t you? As for the cheesecake—I had my husband stop by the bakery and drop one by here a little while ago.”

Frank dumped his bag in the corner of the foyer. “I’ll take her a piece and make sure she eats it.” He looked directly at Leenie’s friend. “I’m going to take care of her. I promise.”

This woman had no way of knowing that Frank Latimer didn’t make promises easily, that when he made one, he kept it.

Five minutes later, Frank entered Leenie’s bedroom. He carried two slices of cheesecake and two cups of hot tea on a tray. Leenie glanced up at him from where she still sat on the edge of the bed. She clutched a damp, wrinkled handkerchief in her hand.

“Snack time.” He walked over, placed the tray on the bed and sat beside her. “Cheesecake and hot tea. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember, but I’m surprised that you do.”

He lifted one plate and fork and handed them to her. “Eat up.”

“Frank, I’m not—”

“Eat.” He picked up the other plate, sliced off a large chunk of cheesecake and slid it into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he sighed dramatically. “Nothing better than cheesecake, except—”

“Sex,” she finished his sentence.

Grinning, he took a second bite before placing his plate back on the tray. He eased his hand under her hand to support her plate, then lifted her fork and cut off a piece of the cheesecake and lifted it to her mouth. She parted her lips; he slid the cheesecake into her mouth. As soon as she finished one bite, he gave her another, and then another—slowly, patiently—until three-fourths of her slice was gone.

“I can’t eat anymore,” she told him.

He set her plate on the tray, then handed her the tea. While she sipped the tea, he drank his, watching her all the while. After she drained her cup, he removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the floor.

Leenie was dead on her feet, worn out from lack of sleep and the stress of not knowing where Andrew was or if he was all right. Frank realized she needed more than cheesecake and tea. She needed to rest. He scooted up in her bed until his back hit the headboard, then he reached out, grasped Leenie’s hand and tugged on it urging her to join him. They sat side-byside in her bed, their backs resting against the headboard. Frank put his arm around her shoulders and cuddled her against him.

“Would you believe I had blond hair and blue eyes when I was a baby?” he said.

“What?” Turning her head sideways, she glanced over at him.

“I had blond hair and blue eyes like Andrew. So his eyes could turn gray later on and his hair might not stay blond like yours.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “I was bald when I was born. Well, actually, I think I had some white fuzz, but it wasn’t much. I have a couple of baby pictures that a distant relative sent me when I contacted her after I grew up and started searching for any family I might have.”

“That’s right. You grew up in foster homes, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh. After my parents died, I got shuffled from one foster home to another, until I was fifteen and wound up with Debra and Jerry Schmale.”

“Debra? The same Debra who’s Andrew’s nanny?”

“That’s right.” Leenie yawned.

“How’s she doing after her surgery?”

“I spoke to her doctor earlier today and he said she should be able to go into a private room tomorrow. Debra’s a wonderful person, the only real mother-figure I ever had that I can remember. My own mother died when I was four and I can barely remember her.”

“I grew up in a fairly conventional family. Mom, dad and an older sister. Then when I was twelve my parents divorced. Ripped us to shreds. My sister went with Mom and I lived with Dad.”

“It must have been difficult for you.”

“Pure hell. You see, my mother had taken a lover and my father wanted to make her pay for her sins.” Frank glanced at Leenie, her eyes shut, her lips slightly parted, her breathing soft and even.

“Did you hate your mother after that?” Leenie asked, her voice hushed.

“Yeah, I hated her for a long, long time, but that’s all in the past now,” Frank said, looking at the way Leenie’s eyelids closed and realizing what she needed was sleep. He moved on to more mundane topics and Leenie melted against him as she began drifting off to sleep. He kept talking quietly until he knew she was fast asleep, then he eased her down into the bed so that her head rested in his lap. He pulled the folded quilt at the foot of the bed up and over her. While she slept, he watched her. Drank his fill of her.

He admitted to himself that he’d missed Leenie while they’d been apart. He’d missed seeing her, talking to her, having sex with her. She was the first woman since Rita who’d stirred something inside him other than lust.

But you don’t love her, Frank told himself. She’s special. She’s the mother of your child. But you do not love her.

He caressed her hair and the side of her face tenderly. “Get some rest, Slim. I’m here now. You won’t have to go through this alone.”

Chapter Four

Andrew dangled helpless over the deep, dark well, a large hand holding him by the nape of his tiny neck. The hand loosened its grip and released the baby. His frightened cries echoed in the blackness as he fell down, down, down. God, no…no…no! Leenie tried to reach out and grab her son, but her efforts were useless. All she could do was scream in terror.

“Leenie…Leenie…wake up.”

Strong masculine hands grasped her shoulders and shook her gently. She tried to fight him, fear spiraling through her alarmingly.

“Slim, it’s me—Frank. Wake up. You were having a nightmare.”

She opened her eyes suddenly and stared into Frank Latimer’s concerned gray eyes.

“Oh, Frank, it was awful. Someone dropped Andrew into a deep well. He was crying…crying for me.”

Frank pulled her up off the bed and into his arms, his strength enveloping her. She clung to him, her mind and nerves rioting. “It was just a bad dream,” he told her.

“I know.” She burrowed her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “But he’s out there—lost.” She lifted her head and stared at Frank. “We have to find him. Please, tell me that we can save him. Make me believe that he’s not lost to me forever.”

Frank brushed loose strands of hair out of her face. His hand lingered, his fingertips caressed. And then he withdrew. She felt the emotional withdrawal as keenly as the physical release. He eased out of bed, his back to her, and said nothing for several awkward minutes.

“Frank?”

“I’ll do everything I can, but…” He turned halfway toward her, his jaw tense, his gaze unfocused as he glared off into nothingness. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I’ve already sworn to you that I would move heaven and earth to bring Andrew home, and I meant it. I’ll do everything humanly possible. But the honest truth is that even though I’d do anything to rescue Andrew, I can’t promise you that I can bring him back to you safe and sound.”

Her heart lurched, then sank. This wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She had thought he would reinforce his earlier vow to rescue Andrew and had longed to hear him say those comforting words. Even knowing Frank wasn’t a miracle worker, she believed in him. He was her last best hope.

“What time is it?” she asked, needing the mundane to keep her sane, to take her mind out of the horrific abyss that sucked her in and kept repeating terrifying mental images of her baby’s death.

Frank glanced at his wristwatch. “Nearly fourthirty.”

“I slept quite a while.” As she stretched, every muscle in her body cried from the tension that had played havoc on her physically, mentally and emotionally.

“You needed the rest. Your friend Haley said you haven’t slept since Andrew’s abduction.” Frank glanced at the stacked empty dishes on the tray. “You should try to eat some supper later on.”

“You’re beginning to sound like a mother hen—telling me to rest and to eat.”

“It’s the training,” he told her. “Part of the regimen for looking after someone is making sure they take care of themselves. A Dundee agent is an allaround bodyguard. He or she tries to not only protect the client, but see to their well-being.”

“And am I a client? Is that how you think of me now?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth again, Slim.”

“I’m only interpreting what I hear you say.”

“You’re misinterpreting,” he said. “And you’re being argumentative. Why? Are you angry with me for some reason?”

Was she angry with him? Yes. No. Maybe.

Leenie got out of bed, rubbed the back of her sore neck and slipped on her shoes. Had Frank taken her shoes off after she’d fallen asleep? More of his allaround bodyguard duties? Was that it—the reason she suddenly felt so hostile toward him? Because he’d acted as if his kindness to her wasn’t anything personal?

“I’m angry with the world right now,” she admitted. “Besides, I believe that should be my question, not yours. After all, you’re the one who has every right to be angry and upset with me for keeping Andrew’s existence a secret from you.”

He shot her a quick glance, then looked away before he replied, “I told you before that now is not the time for us to be at cross purposes, that once Andrew is safely home will be time enough to—”

“To what? For you to tell me what you really think, how you really feel?”

“I don’t know how I feel. I don’t want to dig too deep right now.” He looked at her. “You’re hurting enough for both of us. I need to stay as detached and as unemotional as possible.”

“Can you do that? Can you be unemotional when it comes to Andrew?”

Could he actually remain detached where his own child was concerned? If so, then he certainly wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. But then again, she didn’t really know Frank Latimer. He was a stranger with whom she’d had a passionate fling. She knew without a doubt that he was an incredible lover. Considerate. Attentive. She knew he liked his coffee black, his whiskey straight and his loving frequent. But beyond the obvious, she knew nothing, except what little he’d told her today. And the same held true for him—he didn’t know who the real Lurleen Patton was.

When the silence between them became more than she could bear, she said, “Can’t you answer me?”

“What do you want me to say? Yes, I care about my son. I’m not a heartless bastard. But for God’s sake, Leenie, I haven’t even seen him or touched him or held him. And I’ve known that I’m a father for only a few hours.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“No, I’m sorry,” he told her. “Sorry I can’t say whatever it is you need for me to say. But the more unemotional and detached I can be, the clearer my thinking, the more logical I’ll act and react. Don’t you see—”

“I see. I see a man who’s afraid to feel. You don’t want to love Andrew. You don’t want to love anybody because sometimes love hurts.”

Clenching her teeth in an effort not to burst into fresh tears, Leenie rushed toward the door, wanting to get away from Frank. But he caught up with her just as she reached for the doorknob. He grasped her arm. She stopped and glared at him.

“There it is again,” he said. “Anger. You’re angry with me. Want to tell me why? I’ve tried to be honest with you, so how about being honest with me?”

She jerked her arm loose and took a step backward, but she kept her gaze boldly glued to his. “You want honesty? All right. I kept Andrew a secret from you because I didn’t know how you’d react. I was half afraid you’d want to take him away from me and half afraid you’d tell me you didn’t give a damn. But your reaction is somewhere in between and I can’t figure you out. I feel like a fool for having gotten myself pregnant by a man I don’t even know. And a part of me is angry because on some completely stupid female level I needed you to care—really care. Not just about Andrew, but about me. I needed you to not be detached and unemotional.”

They stood there staring at each other for several minutes until the silence stretched tautly and the tension mounted.

A solid, repetitive knock on the door snapped the tension and ended the silence.

“Frank?” Kate Malone called.

Frank opened the door. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Moran wants to talk to you and Dr. Patton.”

“Has something happened?” Leenie asked.

“No bad news,” Kate said. “He just wants to go over some things with y’all.”

Frank held the door open while Leenie walked into the hall and joined Kate, then he followed behind them, down the hall and into the living room. Only Dante Moran occupied the room, which made Leenie wonder where the other FBI agents were and if Haley was still here.

“Come on in,” Moran said. “Please. We need to talk.”

“Is Haley—?”

“Mrs. Wilson went home,” Kate replied. “She said if you need her, to call her. The house was getting a little crowded, what with two Dundee agents and several FBI agents.”

“Where are the other agents?” Leenie asked.

“From here on out, they’ll work in shifts. We have your phone tapped and we’re fully prepared to act at a moment’s notice,” Moran said. “The crucial first twenty-four hours has ended.” When Leenie stared at him quizzically, he continued. “If the kidnapper is going to demand a ransom, the family usually hears something within the first twenty-four hours.”

Kate answered Leenie’s next question before she asked it. “Which means that more than likely Andrew was not kidnapped for ransom money, but for another reason.”

“How will we know if the woman who stole him kept him, that she wanted him for herself?” Wasn’t that the best case scenario for a kidnapping? Leenie wondered.

“We can’t know for sure.” Moran cut a sideways glance at Frank. “Did you tell her about the abduction ring?”

“What abduction ring?” Leenie’s heart skipped a beat.

Frank shook his head. “I didn’t get a chance to tell her.”

“What abduction ring?” Leenie repeated her question.

“The bureau is aware that there is an infant abduction ring operating in the South and it is possible that your baby was taken in order to sell him,” Moran told her.

“Sell him? You mean—”

“Sell him to people who desperately want to adopt a child,” Kate explained. “Unfortunately there is a shortage of white infants and some people are willing to pay an exorbitant amount in order to procure a child through any means necessary.”

“They’re willing to buy a child that’s been stolen from a loving home?” Leenie looked from Kate to Moran, but she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with Frank.

“In all fairness, these people are told that the children have been willingly given up by parents who don’t want them and these adoptive parents want a child so much that they kid themselves into believing whatever they need to believe.” Kate put her hand on Leenie’s shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. Don’t ever give up hope.”

Having noted a peculiar tone in Kate’s voice, Leenie studied her for several moments. The two women exchanged silent confidences and unspoken pain. Without truly understanding, Leenie knew that at some time in her life Kate Malone had suffered an intolerable loss, perhaps the loss of a child. She reached up and covered Kate’s hand with her own. “I won’t give up.” She squeezed Kate’s hand, then turned to Frank. “From now on, please don’t keep anything from me. I’m not some weak, trembling female who can’t handle the truth. Yes, I’ve been crying a great deal and I’m scared out of my mind and I’ll gladly lean on anybody who’ll let me. But do not treat me as if I’m a child myself. Do I make myself clear?”

Frank glowered at her for a split second. “Yeah. Crystal clear.” Looking as if she’d slapped him, Frank darted a glance from Moran to Kate, then grumbled, “I need a breath of fresh air.”

“And I need a smoke,” Moran said, “but I’ll settle for some of that cold fresh air outside.”

As soon as the two men disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to go out on the porch or into the backyard, Kate turned to Leenie and offered a comforting smile.

“Cut Frank some slack,” Kate advised. “Basically he’s a good guy. It’s just that discovering he’s a father has thrown him for a loop. You may think Andrew’s kidnapping isn’t as hard on him as it is you, but it probably is. Maybe even more so.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because he’s thinking that if—just if, mind you—Andrew isn’t rescued, then he’ll never see his son or hold him or get the chance to love him.”

“And I have seen him and held him and loved him.”

“Look, this is none of my business. Not really.” Kate clicked her tongue. “Want some advice from a busybody?”

Leenie wanted to ask Kate the question that hung heavily between them—did you lose a child?—but she didn’t ask. “I’m taking my frustration out on Frank, aren’t I? And I shouldn’t. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

“Something like that.” Kate nodded. “Frank’s not the enemy.”

“Who is the enemy? Someone who might still call and ask for ransom? Some crazy woman who stole my baby for herself? Some maniac who kills babies? Or the money-hungry abduction ring who steals babies and sells them?”

“We don’t know which. Not yet.”

“When will we know?”

Kate closed her eyes for a millisecond as if she’d suddenly experienced a pain too agonizing to bear, then she took a deep, cleansing breath and replied, “I don’t know the answer to that either. We may find out tomorrow. Or next week. Or maybe never.” She reached out and grabbed Leenie’s shoulders. “But no matter how long it takes, do not give up. Don’t ever let anyone convince you to give up.”

Before Leenie could respond, Kate released her and walked away, mumbling something about needing to go to the bathroom as she disappeared down the hall.

Leenie sank down into the nearest chair, leaned over, propped her elbows on her knees and cupped her face with her open palms. Sitting there alone, the house eerily quiet, she said one more prayer.

Please, dear God, keep Andrew safe and bring him home to me. Home to me and Frank.

Kate handed Moran a cup of coffee, then poured one for herself and sat down across the kitchen table from him. “Where did Frank go?” she asked.

“For a walk down the street. He said to tell you he’d be back in a little while.”

Kate studied Dante Moran, a dark, compellingly handsome man, with danger written all over him. She didn’t think she’d ever met such a cool character and she’d known her share of self-confident, powerful men. Her ex-husband had been rich, powerful and arrogant in a way only someone born and bred into wealth and power can be. Most of the time she managed not to think about Trent Winston. Trenton Bayard Winston IV. But this kidnapping case had brought back all the old and painful memories. It was only natural that she’d think about Trent, wasn’t it, and wonder how he was doing? She hadn’t seen him in nearly eleven years. Not since—

“How’s she holding up?” Moran nodded toward the living room.

“Dr. Patton? She’s doing okay, considering her child is missing and that child’s father is trying to help her and probably saying and doing all the wrong things.”

“Men are like that.” Moran’s lips twitched with a hint of humor.

“Yes, you are. All of you.”

“Including your ex?”

“How’d you know—You didn’t, did you? Not until I reacted. And before you ask, I do not want to talk about him or about it.”

“It?” Moran cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

“It. The divorce. What about you, Moran—got an ex-wife and a less than pleasant divorce you don’t want to talk about?”

“No marriages. No divorces.”

“Hmm-mmm.”

“And before you ask—”

“Why is a guy who’s decidedly over thirty-five never been married?”

“Yeah, that’s the question I don’t want you to ask.” He actually grinned.

“Being a woman, my guess would be either unrequited love and you’re still hoping to eventually woo and win her…or you loved and lost and—” A flicker of something incomprehensible danced in Moran’s black eyes, coming and going so quickly that she could have imagined it. But she hadn’t. Loved and lost. That was it. Moran’s it that he couldn’t bear to talk about, the way her divorce from Trent was her unbearable it.

Moran sipped on his coffee. Kate did the same.

The phone rang and both of them tensed.

He got up and rushed into the living room. Kate quickly followed. Leenie stood by the phone, allowing it to ring, and looked to Moran for direction the minute she saw him. He nodded and motioned for her to answer the phone.

Although Leenie’s hand trembled as she lifted the receiver, her voice was steady when she said, “This is Dr. Lurleen Patton.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She gasped, then responded, “No, thank you, I’m not interested in a free vacation.” She slammed down the receiver.

Kate released the breath she’d unknowingly been holding. “It’s after five. Why don’t I put together some sandwiches for us?”