Kitabı oku: «Secrets Of An Old Flame», sayfa 4

Chapter 4

Nikki awoke slowly in the darkened room. Her mouth felt like she’d been chewing on cotton balls. Still groggy from the medication, she rolled to her side and stared into the playpen. Seeing it empty, a spurt of panic bloomed in her chest. Then she remembered coming home with a migraine. And Joe.

He had been so caring and gentle with her. He made her want to fall back to the habit of depending on him, and she couldn’t let that happen. Never again would she trust him after the way he’d used her.

She had her reasons not to depend on Joe, but she had no doubts Joe would take very good care of their son.

Their son.

She turned onto her back and picked the cold lump of washcloth off her pillow. It was the first time she had ever considered sharing Michael. The thought unsettled her. She didn’t want to think about giving up time with her baby to someone else.

Nikki propped herself up on one elbow. She needed to pull herself together. Then she wouldn’t be tempted to let him back into her life.

Her first move would be to sell what she could and raise some cash. While she was doing that she had to figure out a way to get Joe out of her house and out of her life. This day-to-day living with him was not going to work.

She needed to do an inventory and get things organized while she waited to hear from Mr. Carey, but right now there were more pressing matters. The dim light showing through the crack between the drapes told her it must be early evening. Michael hadn’t eaten since the bus ride home hours ago. She could tell by the ache in her full breasts it was way past his feeding time.

She swung her feet over the side of the bed and sat quietly while she tried to orient herself, wiping away the crust of salt the tears had left behind.

She remembered Joe coming to check on her at least twice.

She cringed when she thought about throwing up in front of him in the guest bathroom. Just the fact that it bothered her he had seen her at her worst meant trouble. She was still attracted to him and didn’t want to be.

Why should she care what he thought? Whatever she’d thought was developing between them a year ago was over. He’d used her vulnerability when she’d needed him the most. She’d never trust him with her heart again.

She had to admit it was wonderful to have someone take over when she had a headache. Rarely did she have the luxury of sleeping away the pain since Michael’s birth.

She always had a strange hollowed-out feeling after one of the headaches passed. She made her way carefully to the bathroom, walking gingerly, like someone who had been confined to bed with a long illness.

She washed her face and combed her hair. It always surprised her how bad she looked after one of her headaches. Out of habit she started to reach for her makeup bag, then pushed it away. She wouldn’t make herself attractive for him.

She shimmied out of her slip, pulled on fresh panties and a pair of old soft knit pants, thick socks and a worn college sweatshirt.

As she made her way down the back staircase, she heard the television on in the den beyond the kitchen. She paused as she heard his voice.

Who was he talking to? She peeked into the room and saw Joe on the couch, Michael propped on his lap, his back against Joe’s chest. Joe anchored him in place with one big hand. Both of them seemed intent on a football game on the television. Their profiles were identical. Michael would grow up to look like Joe.

Her son would be a handsome man, but he would be a constant reminder of his father. Nikki wondered if Michael’s looks would be a blessing or a curse for her.

She stood quietly in the doorway, watching the two of them.

Joe had changed into a polo shirt and jeans. He looked good in casual clothes. His knit shirt fit loosely, only showing a hint of the strong muscles of his shoulders and chest.

Joe hadn’t noticed her. He laughed and pointed at the television screen. “That was a quarterback sneak with a lateral pass. Gutsy move in this situation, but it worked.”

Michael waved both his hands and blew a spit bubble in seeming appreciation.

Nikki shook her head. Male bonding. How like Joe to introduce the baby to his passion. He’d played football in high school and college and loved to watch the game. Nikki remembered a photo hanging on the wall of his apartment showing a much younger Joe flying through the air as he tackled another player.

She stepped into the room. “I need to feed him.”

Both dark heads swung in her direction. Joe smiled and reached out to her. “How are you feeling?”

She took a step back to stay out of his range and before she could answer Michael let out a howl. Instantly her milk let down and formed two wet spots on her sweatshirt.

Joe moved Michael into the crook of his arm and looked worriedly at Nikki and then down at his son. “Hey, buddy. What’s the problem?”

Nikki reached up under her sweatshirt and unhooked the cup of her nursing bra as she crossed to the couch. She lifted the baby out of his arms. “No problem. He’s hungry.”

“You said he’d let me know. The boy has a good set of lungs.” He beamed at her, his face so full of pride it made her want to look away. Her life would be easier if Joe was an indifferent father.

She pushed the thought back and turned away, carrying the baby to the living room. She settled down on the far end of the bigger sofa, snuggling the baby up under her oversized sweatshirt, guiding him to her nipple. He latched on and sucked hungrily, the suckling noises loud in the quiet room.

The comforting weight of his little body and the tugging on her breast relaxed her. It always surprised her how all her worries calmed down when she shared precious time with Michael.

Joe followed her into the room. “Is it all right to feed him after you’ve taken pills for a migraine?”

Nikki bristled at his question. Michael was always her first priority. “Do you think I wouldn’t check that out with my doctor?” She took a less effective medication for just that reason.

Joe spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, I’m new at this. I was just curious.”

An awkward silence ensued as he watched the whole process intently. “He decided awfully suddenly that he was hungry.”

Nikki glanced over at Joe, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. She didn’t want him there during the feeding. This was her special time with her baby. She didn’t want to share.

“He’s smart. You’ve never fed him. He didn’t remember he was hungry until he heard my voice. It’s been hours since he ate last.” She stiffened up when Joe sat at the other end of the couch.

Joe slid a little closer. “How are you feeling?”

Like a bowl of overcooked pasta, she thought. “Fine,” she said with a bored shrug, wishing he would go back to his game.

Joe didn’t take the hint. “How often do you feed him?”

She eyed him closing the distance between them. “Whenever he’s hungry. Sometimes it’s every three hours. Usually around every four hours.”

“At night, too?” He came off the couch and squatted down on his haunches in front of her. She drew her feet up onto the couch and tucked them under.

She could smell his aftershave. By the late afternoon it mingled with his male scent into an appealing smell that was all Joe. “No. I can stretch him to six sometimes at night.”

He reached out and stroked Michael’s foot. “So you’re still getting up at night.”

She nodded noncommittally. The truth was she didn’t sleep all that well and feedings during the night didn’t bother her. She might as well be doing something useful she enjoyed if she had to be awake anyway. It made the long nights go by more quickly.

He stood and sat beside her.

She pushed back against the arm of the couch. “Why don’t you go back and watch the game?”

He gave her a long look. “I’d rather watch you.” He scooted closer.

Her stomach did flip-flops. She needed distance. Since she was curled into the corner of the couch she had nowhere to go.

“What are you doing?” she snapped at him, trapped by his big body.

He grasped the bottom of her sweatshirt and lifted it. She batted at his big hand. “Stop that!”

He captured her hand with his free one and continued to pull her sweatshirt up. “I want to see.”

She tried to pull her hand away without disturbing the baby. “Stop it.”

She didn’t want him watching. It was too…sensual. She didn’t need those feelings awakened. They led to dangerous memories.

He gripped her hand more firmly and his expression hardened. “I’ve already missed at least three months. Don’t deny me this.”

Guilt overcame her and she stopped struggling. He let go of her and she let her hand fall back into her lap.

Next time she had to feed the baby she’d go upstairs.

He lifted her shirt and tucked it gently behind Michael so that it would stay, then he stared at the baby.

She looked away and tried to concentrate on the faint sound of the football game, unwilling to watch the play of emotions across his handsome face.

She shouldn’t be embarrassed over something so natural, she chided herself. He wasn’t looking at her, he was watching Michael. She was the one struggling with feelings she desperately wished would go away.

“What does it feel like?” he asked in a low voice.

She closed her eyes against his soft, appealing voice, resenting the question. How could she tell him about the incredible sensation of nursing a child in terms that wouldn’t sound sexual?

“Different.” The lame answer hung in the air between them.

She glanced at him and saw his gaze fastened on the spot where Michael’s milky lips tugged at her swollen nipple.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His quiet voice held a note of sadness as his gaze shifted to her face.

Now she wished she had. She wished she’d called him as soon as she’d realized she was pregnant, before Michael had become real to her. She suspected it might have made sharing him easier.

If she’d told him then they wouldn’t be having this conversation with him practically sitting in her lap.

She’d been such an emotional mess when she’d first gone to her aunt’s home in Quebec it had taken months for the reality to set in.

“When I left I didn’t know,” she hedged.

He raised one eyebrow. “It’s been a year since you ran,” he said, his voice brusque.

Trust Joe not to let anything be easy. She had run, as far and as fast as she could, but she didn’t like the way it sounded when he said it.

She decided to tell him the simple truth. “A year ago I hated you.”

“And you think that’s fair?” His hand lay fisted on his knee, saying more about what he was feeling than his reasonable tone.

She shrugged. “I didn’t say it was fair. I said it was the reason. It took me a couple of months to realize I was pregnant. I thought I was feeling ill because of stress.”

He’d been looking at Michael. His head came up and he nailed her with a steady gaze. “You were sick?”

She nodded, remembering the misery. “Yes. I felt awful for the first three months. I blamed you.” She’d blamed Joe for everything. She realized she still did.

He stared at her a long time before he spoke again. She worked very hard not to squirm. “Why did you come back?”

The only sound in the room was Michael’s suckling and her own heart, pounding in her ears.

It wasn’t an easy question, but a reasonable one. She needed to be honest with Joe. She’d hide her feelings about him, but there shouldn’t be any dishonesty between them when it came to Michael. She owed him that.

“To tell you about Michael. To try to straighten out the mess Daddy left behind so I can start a new life with my son.”

His expression hardened, making his jaw look even more square. “Our son.”

She hesitated for a long moment. “Our son.”

Joe rubbed his palm along his thigh in a gesture that looked like nerves to her. She had never seen him look anything but totally composed and in charge.

“What is his birth date?”

“July twenty-first.” At 11:51 p.m. She didn’t remember, because she had been so exhausted and doped up with medication, but that was the time the doctor had listed on the birth records.

He cleared his throat. “Is my name on his birth certificate?”

“Yes.” How long had her hand hovered over the line on the form marked “father”? It had been a close call. Now she was relieved she could tell him yes. It was one less thing to argue about.

“This new life you have in mind. Where do you think you’re going?” His tone had a challenging edge to it.

“I don’t know.” That was the truth. She had no idea where she and Michael would end up. She didn’t know physically where they would live, but she knew that emotionally she had to stay as far away from Joe as she could get.

She left that part out of the conversation. As far as she knew, he wasn’t interested in her, either.

Where she would end up depended on how much money she could raise and where she could find a job. Her art history degree had its limitations in the job market. Without her trust fund a job like the one she’d had at the gallery in New York wouldn’t pay enough to live on.

She pulled her sweatshirt down to cover herself as best she could and used her finger to break the suction between Michael’s mouth and her nipple.

“Is he done?”

The man certainly was curious. He had nieces and nephews. Hadn’t he ever seen a woman nurse a baby? “I need to switch him to the other side.”

Michael made a sleepy protest as she put him up to her shoulder and awkwardly tried to refasten her bra with one hand.

Joe reached for the baby and held him over his shoulder, gently rubbing Michael’s back. Michael gave a quiet little burp that made Joe smile.

He was not at all awkward the way most men were with newborns.

Nikki unfastened the other side of her bra and took Michael back, snuggling him across her lap so he could finish eating. This time, to Nikki’s relief, Joe didn’t fool with her sweatshirt.

They sat quietly for a long time before he spoke again. “Do you hate me?”

“No. I don’t really feel anything for you.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, and wondered if he knew how big a lie she’d just told.

She felt so confused about him she wondered if she would ever figure it all out. She was still very attracted to him. To relieve the temptation she felt she wanted him out of the house. She could handle herself if they met in public places so he could have time with the baby, but the current living arrangement was just too cozy.

Nikki took a deep breath. She glanced up at him. “Joe, I want you to leave.”

He studied her for a moment. “Why?”

“Because you make me uncomfortable.”

He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll go watch the game.”

“No, I mean I want you to leave the house.” She was messing this up.

His jaw hardened again in a look that was becoming all too familiar. “No. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Don’t you have to work?” She felt like she was grasping at straws.

He shook his head. “I took some personal time.”

Personal time usually meant a few days. “But you have to go back soon, right?”

“As of Monday I’m on vacation.”

She didn’t think she could hold on to her emotions if he was around all the time. She knew she couldn’t survive a repeat of the aftermath of last year. “I don’t think they’ll come back.”

“Nikki, this conversation is getting old. You don’t know what they’ll do. Someone is looking for your father and they think you’re the key. It’s an obvious assumption.” He looked like he was struggling to remain calm.

She slapped her thigh with the flat of her hand in frustration. “What am I supposed to do? Hide for the rest of my life?”

He laid his hand over hers. “No. If others are looking for him it could mean something has happened. Maybe we’ll get a break in the case.”

She should tell him what Mr. Carey had told her earlier about a possible sighting of her father.

The idea that he was alive and had abandoned her hurt so much she found she couldn’t say it out loud. What if he was living on an island in the Caribbean? Tears clogged her throat. What if the money had been more important to him than she was? How could she bear it?

“Nikki?” He reached out and cupped her chin. “Why are you crying?”

She twisted away until he released her chin. “I don’t feel good.” It wasn’t a lie. She felt limp and exhausted.

Michael had fallen asleep. She drew him out from under her shirt and laid him in her lap so she could fasten her bra.

Joe reached out and scooped the baby out of her lap and nestled him onto one of his muscular forearms. He stood and held out his hand.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

She ignored his hand and stood up. If possible, she didn’t intend to ever touch him again. There was far too much electricity between them.

“I need to change him.” She had set up a makeshift changing table on the dryer in the laundry room.

“I did that just before you came downstairs.”

“You changed his diaper?” She hadn’t expected that.

He nodded. “How about something to eat before you lie down?”

“No, I’m not hungry.”

There was little in the pantry, only some canned goods, nothing that appealed to her. Their cook had shopped almost daily, using all fresh ingredients in her wonderful meals.

She’d been craving fruit, but without a car, the bus trip to the market with a baby in tow had yet to happen.

She reached for Michael. “He’ll sleep for a while. I’ll put him to bed.”

Joe smoothly took her hand and turned her toward the stairs. “I’ll take you both up.”

His big hand enveloped hers in a warm grasp that felt so good. Immediately she pulled away and headed up the stairs.

There was no point in arguing with him. Joe was like a steamroller. He outweighed her by a hundred pounds and she knew from experience he would simply put her where he wanted her.

She tried not to think of all the times he had grabbed her and maneuvered her to a convenient place to make love to her. Not that she had resisted.

While Joe settled Michael in the playpen between the wall and Nikki’s bed, she stood and watched him. He put his hand on Michael’s tummy and rolled the baby off his arm, laying him face down on the blanket.

Nikki stepped forward. “On his back. Turn him over.”

Joe looked up at her, surprise on his face. “Really? My mother always put the babies down on their stomachs.”

Most parents had, up until recently. Nikki read everything she could on child care. “Now the experts insist they be put to sleep on their backs.”

He nodded. “Okay. You need anything?”

“No.” Just distance from him. As soon as possible. The memories that had crept in while they’d been climbing the stairs stubbornly refused to go away.

Joe turned to leave. “I’ll be in the den. Just yell if you need me.”

Nikki almost smiled as he disappeared through the door. She had never yelled for anything in her life. It simply hadn’t been allowed.

She sat down on the side of the bed and watched Michael sleep for a few moments. She loved the way he sighed and his lips moved as if he were nursing in his sleep. Good baby dreams, she supposed. If only her dreams could be so simple and unthreatening.

She really hadn’t been hungry lately, but she was always thirsty, especially after she finished nursing. And she’d been craving beer. She never drank beer.

She pushed herself to her feet and headed to the bathroom for a glass of water. As she passed in front of the French doors, glass and wood shattered as part of the door blew in, spattering her with shards and splinters.

Screaming, she dropped to the floor and frantically crawled across to her bed.

Chapter 5

Joe heard the crack of gunfire followed by the splintering of glass and Nikki’s shriek of terror.

He was on his feet running for the stairs, weapon in hand, when the second shot rang out.

Heart thundering in his chest, he took the stairs three at a time. He wanted desperately to call out to Nikki but fought back the urge, not knowing where the shots were coming from.

His instincts told him the shots were fired from outside, but the old house was so solidly built he didn’t trust his hearing enough to endanger Nikki and Michael if whoever had the gun was inside.

He edged down the hallway toward her bedroom, his back to the wall, straining to pick up any sound. Through the silence he began to hear a soft, intermittent plea for help.

The door to Nikki’s room was ajar. Gradually he edged it open, unable to see anyone. He reached in, found the switch and turned out the lights.

He heard Nikki gasp.

Then he switched off the hall lights, throwing the upstairs into darkness.

As he dropped to one knee and pushed the door open, Nikki let out a small frightened shriek.

“Nikki? Are you alone?”

“No.” Her voice trembled. “Michael’s here.”

She sounded terrified, he thought, fury welling in his throat. He tamped it down. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes.”

Thank God. “Is the baby okay?”

“Yes.” She let out a tiny sob. “He’s still asleep.”

Joe’s eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark. He could see Nikki huddled by the end of the bed, her arms wrapped around her legs.

She’d placed herself between the French doors and the baby.

Enough moonlight was pouring in to bathe the room in a pale silvery light. He could see the splintered wood and feel the cold draft of air through the broken panes of glass.

He exhaled. The shooter was outside.

He stayed where he was and kept his tone even, covering the fury he was feeling. “Nikki?”

“Yes?” Her voice sounded a little steadier.

“I want you to crawl around the bed and get down beside the playpen and stay there. I’m going to check things out and come right back.”

Silence greeted his statement, but he could see her head bobbing in a nod. Then she said in a small voice, “I’m okay here.”

He wanted her out of the line of fire. The shooter could be on the neighbor’s roof. “You move behind the bed. I’m going to pull the chair over to block you in.” Patiently he explained his request. “Nikki? Did you hear me?”

“Okay.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Are they still out there?”

He could tell by the quaver in her voice she was scared to death. He wanted to hold her and tell her she’d be safe, but first he had to see if he could catch the bastard who had fired the shots.

He wanted to reassure her. “They’re probably long gone. I want you safe before I go out and look around.”

He was fairly sure whoever had shot out the windows had left immediately. A coward who would shoot into a house like this wouldn’t stick around.

He saw her crawl around the bed and disappear behind the playpen. He dragged the overstuffed chair over and tipped it on its side to block them in.

Her muffled voice reached him as he crossed to the shattered doors. “Joe?”

“Yeah, babe?” He looked out the French doors. There was no sign of movement in the alley or on the neighbor’s yards.

“Hurry.”

“I will, honey. You hold tight,” he said, straining to keep his voice neutral. He wanted to get his hands on the bastard who’d shot at Nikki and his son.

As he checked each room on the second floor, looking out the windows to see if he could spot any movement around the house, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. He identified himself to dispatch and gave terse orders for black-and-white units to arrive using no sirens or lights. He didn’t want to scare the bastard off on the outside chance he was still hanging around.

He went down the back stairs. His gut told him the shots had come from the back of the house, probably the alley behind the garages. Because of the high hedges he was unable to see much. Someone would be able to pull up in the alley, fire the shots and be back in a car and gone before anyone could spot them.

As he slipped out the back door he heard a car pull up behind the house, and through the gate saw the beam of a flashlight sweep the area.

He identified himself, slipped his gun into his belt at the small of his back and went to unlatch the gate.

He explained the situation to the four officers in the alley and left them to do a sweep of the grounds. As he turned back to reenter the house he heard them communicating by radio with other officers who had shown up out front.

Anxious to get back to Nikki, he let himself in through the back door and ran up the stairs.

He turned on the hall lights and called out, knowing how scared she must be. “Nikki, it’s me.”

She called out to him in a soft voice. “Don’t turn the lights on.”

In the dim light he saw her stand and crawl back over the bed.

“I don’t want Michael to wake up.” Her voice still sounded a little shaky.

“Okay.”

He would check for bullets in the walls later.

She stepped past him into the light and he saw the smear of blood on her cheek.

His pent-up anger exploded. “You told me you weren’t hurt.”

She flinched and backed away from him, her whole body trembling. “I’m not.”

God, he hadn’t meant to scare her. He reached out and gently touched her face, his own hand shaking with fury. “You’re bleeding.”

She put her hand up to her face, keeping her distance. “It’s just a little scratch, Joe.”

Before she turned into the bedroom across the hall and went on through to the bathroom he saw she was trying not to cry.

He followed her, struggling to get his anger under control. “As soon as the officers are done I want you to get your things together.”

“My things?” She blotted her eyes then looked up into the mirror and met his gaze as she used the wet tissue to wipe away the smear of blood.

He tightened his hands into fists at the tiny scratch that marred her perfect skin. If he got his hands on the bastard who’d done this he’d…

“Why?” she repeated, interrupting his thoughts of vengeance.

Frustration sharpened his tone. “Because you can’t stay here anymore. It isn’t safe. Someone is out to get you.”

She hesitated and looked away from him. After a long pause she said in a trembling voice, “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Joe was glad she had nowhere to go. If she did he knew she’d leave him in a heartbeat. He fought to keep the relief out of his voice. “You’ll be staying at my place.” His reply sounded stiffer than he had intended.

He didn’t miss the look of dismay that came over her face as she turned back to the sink. He didn’t care how she felt about it. His house couldn’t compare to this one, but she and Michael would be safer there.

He had no intention of letting them out of his sight until he found out who was after her, and why.

She bent over and splashed water on her face, holding her hair back with one hand. He loved the purely feminine gesture.

She didn’t know he’d moved out of the downtown studio apartment he’d rented last year while he looked for a house. The small place he’d purchased in North Park had become available the month she’d disappeared from his life. He’d worked on it himself for almost a year at a manic pace, fixing it up. He’d tried to fill every minute with hard, physical labor so he wouldn’t think of Nikki.

It hadn’t worked.

She pulled a towel off the towel bar and dried her face. Joe braced himself for her argument about moving in with him, then was surprised when she nodded in agreement.

“Okay. I’ll pack a bag.”

She must be more scared than he’d thought.

He was about to explain about his house when the doorbell rang and she jumped.

He put his hand on her arm. “I’ll get it.”

They could both hear Michael whimpering from the other room.

Nikki glanced down at her watch. “He’s probably hungry again.”

“Feed him in here, okay? I want to have a look at the damage in your room.”

He didn’t want her to be in there when the other cops came in to look around. Nikki feeding Michael was something special and personal Joe wasn’t going to share. He wasn’t planning to let a bunch of uniforms see her nursing his son.

Nikki watched Joe walk out of the room. She wanted to run after him, throw herself into his arms and let him hold her until the nightmare was over.

Stupid idea, she thought. How dangerous would that be? She’d barely recovered the last time she’d let him take over a year ago. She couldn’t afford to do it again.

Her first reaction to Joe’s pronouncement about her moving in with him had been consternation. She’d been to his apartment downtown a couple of times and remembered how tiny it was. They were going to have far more togetherness than she was comfortable with.

She chided herself. Her feelings weren’t going to drive this situation. Michael’s safety was, and Joe’s apartment was on an upper floor in a high-security building with just one door. It would be so much safer than this house. She would just have to deal with her leftover feelings for Joe.

She could control herself for however long it took to find out who was after her. He’d never know how attracted she still was to him.

She went and got the baby and brought him back into the bedroom to feed him. Joe and his partner Mac went into her room, but their voices were pitched so low she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Who would want to shoot her? It didn’t make any sense. The men who broke in yesterday wanted information. That she could understand. Why would someone shoot at her?

She began to tremble as she remembered the sound of shattering glass and terror she’d felt when she’d realized what was happening.

Michael began to squirm. She took some deep calming breaths, not wanting to transfer her feelings of stress to him.

By the time he finished eating, he was sound asleep again. Nikki laid him in the middle of the big bed, surrounded him with pillows, and went back into her bedroom to pack up their things.