Kitabı oku: «The Baby Bet: His Secret Son», sayfa 3

“Don’t go there, Michael,” Ryan said, narrowing his eyes. “Not now.”

“No, not tonight,” Margaret said. “The issues raised by Andrew Malone will be addressed when Robert is able to explain what we need to know.”

“Well, Mom,” Forrest said, “for what it’s worth, we figured out to a point who Malone is.”

“What do you mean?” Margaret said.

“We’ve had a lot of hours to sit here,” Forrest said. “We were talking earlier, and Michael and I thought the name Andrew Malone sounded familiar, that the guy even looked like someone we’d seen before.”

“And?” his mother said, hardly above a whisper.

“It finally hit us,” Forrest went on. “He’s Andrew Malone of Malone Construction. He’s built quite a few projects from plans we drew up. I even talked to him last year on a site. He’s from Santa Maria, but his outfit works all over the state, and he’s got a top-of-the-line reputation.”

“He’s also a nutcase,” Richard said, frowning. “He’s Uncle Robert’s son? Give me a break. He’s after something. Money, probably.”

“He doesn’t need money,” Ryan said. “Ted and I ran a check on him through our resources at the police department. Malone is well-set financially, and is squeaky clean as far as the law goes. I guess I should have told you that earlier, but we were all walking on eggs around the subject of Malone and what he accused Dad of. I don’t know what Malone wants, but I’ll find out. Oh, yeah. Guaranteed.”

“Ryan MacAllister,” Margaret said, “you are not to do your macho cop thing with Andrew Malone. This will be handled in a mature and nonviolent manner. Am I making myself clear?”

“No,” Ryan said.

“Ryan,” Margaret said, a definite warning tone to her voice.

Ryan sighed. “Yeah, okay, Mom—for now.”

“I’ll deck him for you, partner,” Ted said. “Your mom didn’t yell at me.”

“I just did, Ted Sharpe,” Margaret said, “and that goes for all of you. Michael, I’d like to go home, please. All of you go to your families and I’ll see you tomorrow…well, later today, considering the hour.”

Hugs were exchanged and the group left the waiting room.

Kara pressed fingertips to her aching temples, then walked slowly from the room with the intention of going to the locker area in the lower level of the hospital and changing out of her party dress.

After stopping at the nurses’ station and explaining that she was staying at the hospital and would have her pager turned on in case she was needed, she walked slowly down the hall, aware suddenly of how very weary she was.

As she approached the entrance to the intensive care unit, she halted. Andrew Malone had his back against the wall near the doorway. His arms were folded loosely over his chest and his eyes were closed. A dark shadow of a beard appeared on his face, and his hair was tousled slightly as though he’d been dragging a hand through it.

He looked so tired, Kara thought, and so very very alone. The MacAllister family was banded together, supporting each other, standing close as a unit to weather this storm that was threatening them.

But Andrew had no one.

She knew—oh, yes, she truly knew—how chilling that feeling was. There had been a time in her life when she’d had no one, had been frighteningly alone.

But then she’d been drawn into the warm loving embrace of the MacAllister family, had become one of them, had belonged, had been loved and made to feel special and wanted.

If what Andrew Malone claimed was true, if he was Robert’s son, then he deserved that warmth and caring, too, more than she ever had.

Kara sighed and shook her head.

She felt as though she was being pulled in two directions.

A part of her was still angry at Andrew for what he had done at that party. It was cold, and cruel, and ugly, and the ramifications were almost more than she could bear.

Yet another section of her being felt an ache in her heart for Andrew’s isolation, his aloneness.

The fact that he was still in the hospital said he was riddled with guilt about the outcome of his actions. He was standing vigil, waiting to learn what would happen to Robert, just as the entire family was.

Only, Andrew was all alone.

Kara sighed, decided that she was losing what was left of her exhausted mind, then walked forward slowly, stopping by Andrew’s side.

“Andrew?” she said softly.

He jerked away from the wall, blinked several times, then met Kara’s gaze. In the next instant he gripped her shoulders.

“Is he dead?” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “Did I kill him? Oh, God, please don’t tell me that Robert died.”

“No, no,” Kara said quickly. “Uncle Robert is holding his own. I saw you standing all alone and…”

Kara’s words trailed off as she lost her train of thought. She was suddenly aware of the incredible heat that was rushing through her from Andrew’s hands where they were still gripping her upper arms. Her breasts were heavy, achy, yearning for a soothing touch that only Andrew could provide.

Dear heaven, what was this man doing to her? She should step backward, force him to remove his hands, but she was pinned in place by the mesmerizing depths of his dark-brown eyes.

MacAllister eyes.

Oh, yes, those were MacAllister eyes. Andrew Malone was, indeed, Uncle Robert’s son. The more she looked at Andrew, the clearer the resemblance became. Andrew was a MacAllister.

“You…you should get some rest, too, Andrew,” she said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice. “There’s no purpose to be served by your staying, pushing yourself beyond the point of exhaustion. Go get a few hours’ sleep.”

Take your hands off her, Malone, Andrew ordered himself, but didn’t follow his own directive. He needed to touch her, to be connected to her like this, just for another moment. She was filling him with warmth, chasing away the chill of his loneliness. But that warmth was rapidly becoming heated desire, churning and coiling low in his body.

“Kara,” he said, his voice raspy.

He wanted to nestle her close to him, to wrap his arms around her, to kiss those delectable lips of hers, then make sweet love with her for hours. Ah, man, he was going up in flames.

“Andrew, I…” Kara said. Want you to kiss me, hold me. “We’re both very tired. We’ve been through an extremely stressful ordeal and we’re not thinking clearly.”

“You’re feeling what I am, aren’t you?” he said. Andrew shook his head and let his hands drop to his sides. “We’re related, for crying out loud. What am I doing?”

“No, we’re not, but that’s beside the point,” Kara said, wrapping her hands around her elbows.

“You don’t believe me, do you? You don’t believe I’m Robert MacAllister’s son.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “You have the MacAllister eyes. When I look at your features, I can see Uncle Robert in you. But we’re not related, because I’m not a MacAllister.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. I also don’t understand why you’re speaking to me, expressing concern for me. You made it perfectly clear that you despise me for what I did. Believe me, I’m not crazy about myself at the moment, either.”

“I do despise you for what you did at that hotel, but…oh, I don’t know. I’m so confused. I was very quick to pass judgment on you,” Kara said, “because I was so worried about Uncle Robert. I’m still upset about his condition, not knowing if he’ll make it through the critical next twenty-four hours. But I’m the last person in the world who should be censuring another person’s actions.”

“Why? What do you mean? And if you’re not a MacAllister, then who are you?”

Kara sighed. “I guess I’m not making much sense. Perhaps…perhaps we can discuss this after we’ve had some rest.”

“No, Kara, please. Can’t we talk now? Just for a few minutes at least? This place…” Andrew glanced around. “This place is getting to me. I know I don’t have the right to ask for your company but…”

“I understand,” Kara said. “A hospital can be very overwhelming when you’re in the midst of a crisis and especially…especially if you’re alone. I…yes, all right. A few minutes. Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee, or some juice? Then we both need to get some sleep.”

Andrew nodded and they walked to the elevator, each reaching out to press the button on the wall at the same time. Their fingers brushed and they pulled their hands back quickly, feeling as though they’d been singed by an incredible heat.

When the doors opened, Kara waved Andrew into the elevator ahead of her, wanting to see where he would choose to stand so she could keep as much distance between them as possible.

Andrew entered the elevator and turned to face Kara. As she stepped forward her heel caught in the grating and she stumbled, gasping as she felt herself falling. With a natural instinct Andrew gripped Kara’s shoulders to steady her, his elbow hitting the panel of buttons. The doors closed and the elevator began to move, but Andrew did not release his hold on Kara.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. “I…”

Kara forgot what she was going to say as she was pinned in place by Andrew’s mesmerizing eyes. Her heart raced and her breathing quickened. The heat from Andrew’s hands was rushing though her, churning low and deep within her.

Let her go, Andrew thought. Kara was steady on her feet now and he was going to take his hands off her and—

“Ah, hell,” he said, then captured Kara’s mouth with his.

Kara encircled Andrew’s neck with her arms as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his heated body.

Desire rocketed through him as he parted her lips to delve into the sweet darkness of her mouth with his tongue, seeking and finding her tongue, stroking, dueling.

Passions soared and reason fled.

The elevator bumped to a stop and they jerked apart as the doors swished opened.

“Oh, dear heaven,” Kara said breathlessly, then rushed out of the elevator, vaguely aware that they were on the floor where the cafeteria was located.

“Kara…” Andrew said, then hurried after her as the doors began to close.

“That didn’t happen,” she said, not slowing her step. “That…did…not…happen.”

“Oh, yes, it did,” Andrew said, drawing a much-needed breath. “It definitely did.”

Kara glared at Andrew as they entered the cafeteria. A short time later they were seated at a small table. Kara took a sip of her orange juice, then stared into the glass as though it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. Andrew ignored the cup of coffee in front of him as he looked at Kara.

“There’s something happening between us, Kara, and I want to know what it is.”

Why? he asked himself in the next instant. What difference did it make? Why was it so important? Hell, he didn’t know.

Kara’s head snapped up. “What happened, what it is, is the product of fatigue, worry, stress and…It didn’t mean anything, Andrew.”

“Didn’t it?” he said, his voice low and rumbly as he looked directly into her eyes.

She couldn’t breathe, Kara thought frantically. Andrew had stolen the very breath from her body with that kiss, and she wasn’t able to refill her lungs with air when he looked at her like that. She was going to pass out cold right into her orange juice.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Oh, please, Andrew, just…don’t.”

He leaned toward her. “Don’t what? Don’t desire you? Don’t want to kiss you again? Don’t want to make love with you?”

“Stop it,” she said, looking quickly around the room, then meeting his gaze again. “None of this is real. We’re exhausted, not thinking clearly. This has been a night of nightmares, and we’re trying to escape to somewhere we don’t have to face what has taken place.”

“Nice speech,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But I’m not buying it for a second. You’re turning me inside out, lady, and nothing like this has happened to me before. I want—for some reason I can’t fathom—to know what this is.”

“You’re just full of questions that you want the answers to, aren’t you, Mr. Malone?” Kara said, lifting her chin. “You want to know what is happening between us. You want to know why I’m concerned about your lack of sleep after making it clear earlier that I’d be more than happy to strangle you with my bare hands. You want to know why you’re more of a MacAllister than I am.”

Andrew nodded. “That covers it pretty well, I’d say. Which one of those questions would you like to address first, Dr. MacAllister?”

Kara’s shoulders slumped. “You’re a very exasperating man, do you know that? You want. You want. You want. Do you always get what you want?”

“If I put my mind to it, yes.” Andrew reached over and drew his thumb gently across Kara’s lips. “Do you?”

Kara shivered from the feel of Andrew’s callused thumb caressing her lips, and she moved her head back. She was torn between the urge to smack his hand away and the desire to press it to her lips.

“Don’t you want to know what this is that’s taking place between us?” Andrew said, wrapping both hands around his coffee cup.

“There is nothing happening between us,” Kara said. “You’ll realize that yourself after you’ve had some rest. Just forget about what happened in that elevator, Andrew. In the light of the new day it will be clear that it meant nothing.”

“Fair enough. We’ll discuss it in the light of the new day.”

Kara rolled her eyes heavenward, then took another sip of juice.

“So, why am I more of a MacAllister than you are?” Andrew said.

“It’s very simple. I’m a MacAllister in name only. I was adopted by Mary and Ralph MacAllister. You’re Uncle Robert’s son, so you’re a MacAllister by birth, or blood—however you want to put it.”

“Oh, I see,” Andrew said, nodding. “They adopted you when you were a baby?”

“Well, no, I…Actually, I didn’t become a MacAllister until I was eighteen years old. Mary, Ralph, Jack and Richard invited me to become an official MacAllister when I was old enough to legally make my own decisions. I had been their foster child since I was sixteen and come to love them with my whole heart.”

“They waited until you were a legal adult, then…Whew. That is a class act.”

“That’s the caliber of people the MacAllisters are, Andrew. All of them. That’s your heritage, your roots. I assume that you loved your mother, Sally Malone, very much, but you’re a MacAllister, too, and you can take a great deal of pride in that.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “After what Robert did to my mother? There isn’t a rubber stamp of excellence on these people, Kara.” He shook his head. “Let’s not get into all that now. I want to know about you.” He smiled. “Uh-oh, there I go again with I want.”

Kara’s heart did a funny little two-step as she stared at Andrew.

Andrew Malone smiling was more than she could handle in her exhausted state, she thought frantically. His smile softened his features, revealed straight white teeth and changed his brown eyes to liquid depths a woman could drown in. Oh, this man just didn’t quit.

“Yes, well…” she began, then cleared her throat. “I’ve told you about me. I was Ralph and Mary MacAllister’s foster child, then adopted by them when I was eighteen. End of story.”

“I’ll wait,” Andrew said quietly.

“Wait for what?”

“For you to feel comfortable enough with me—even more, to trust me enough—to share the complete story of why you were a foster child, why you didn’t have a home at sixteen. I’m not normally the most patient of men, but for you? I’ll wait.”

Andrew covered one of Kara’s hands with one of his on the table. Heat danced along Kara’s arm, then across her breasts to finally settle low and intense in her body.

“Because, Kara MacAllister,” Andrew said, “I know, I just somehow know, that you are most definitely worth waiting for. When you’re ready to tell me the whole story, I’ll be here. I’ll listen to every word. I just hope you’ll come to trust me that much, Kara, I truly do. I don’t know why it’s so important to me, but it is.”

She was going to cry, Kara thought incredulously, drawing a shaky breath. Andrew’s softly spoken words were touching her in a place deep within her.

He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t crowding her, wasn’t demanding an explanation about her past, wasn’t doing his I want routine.

He was simply waiting—waiting for her to trust him because…because she was worth waiting for. Oh, good grief, she was going to start blubbering like a baby if she didn’t get out of here.

She was overreacting to everything due to her exhaustion. Everything, including that kiss shared with Andrew in the elevator.

Kara slipped her hand from beneath Andrew’s and got to her feet.

“I have to get some sleep,” she said. “I strongly suggest that you do the same.”

“I doubt there’s a hotel room free in Ventura on New Year’s Eve,” Andrew said, looking up at her. “I hadn’t planned on staying over.” He ran his hand across his chin. “I didn’t pack a bag, don’t even have a razor.”

Kara folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Oh? You just intended to drive into town, destroy as many MacAllister lives as you could, then leave?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” She looked at Andrew again. “I’m beyond rational thought. Maybe I can arrange for you to get some sleep in an empty room here in the hospital.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure out something. I’ll see you in a few hours, Kara. Maybe you’ll have news about Robert’s condition by then.”

“Yes, yes, perhaps I will. Good night, Andrew.”

“Kara? Think about trusting me. Will you do that? Think about it?”

Kara nodded jerkily, then turned and hurried away.

Andrew watched her until she disappeared from view, then drew a weary breath as his exhaustion seemed to slam into him like a physical blow.

He glanced around the nearly empty room and felt the chill of loneliness consume him once again.

Chapter 4

“No, I’m not sure how long I’ll be away,” Andrew said into the telephone receiver. “You have the number here at the hotel, so call and leave a message for me if something comes up that you can’t handle…Yes, have the foreman on each job site check in with you daily there at the office…Yeah, you’re right. You’ll get fat and lazy playing executive. Okay, Harry, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for stepping in for me like this…See ya.”

Andrew replaced the receiver, but didn’t remove his hand as he stared at the telephone.

He’d begun calling hotels at dawn, using the pay telephone in the lobby of the hospital, and had finally managed to book a room. He’d left the hospital, then discovered to his surprise that a great many open-twenty-four-hours stores were ready for business despite the holiday.

After purchasing some clothes and personal items, he’d driven to the hotel and stretched out on the bed, falling into a deep sleep before he’d even removed his shoes.

Andrew glanced at his watch.

One o’clock in the afternoon. He’d showered, shaved, put on fresh clothes, then called Santa Maria to give his top foreman instructions on running Malone Construction.

Now? He was starving, should order some food from room service. But first he had to know how Robert MacAllister was doing. Should he call the hospital and pretend to be a reporter? No, they probably had a pat answer that divulged very little to the members of the press.

Andrew’s hold on the receiver tightened, but he still left it in place.

Kara. He needed to speak to Kara about Robert. Kara was his link, his only source of real information. Kara, who had also been front and center in the tangled and confusing dreams he’d had when he’d crashed onto the bed and slept.

Kara MacAllister, Andrew thought. The kiss they’d shared in the elevator had been dynamite. He could vividly recall her taste, her aroma, the way her delicate body nestled so perfectly against him. He wanted her. He wanted her with a driving force, a need, the intensity of which defied description.

Kara was a complex and intriguing woman. She was intelligent. She had spunk, a temper that rose to the surface when she was provoked and made him understand where the phrase “beautiful when angry” had come from. She was fiercely loyal to her adopted family. She loved deeply and completely.

Loved deeply, Andrew mentally repeated, releasing his grip on the receiver and getting to his feet. Was there a special man in Kara’s life? Someone she loved deeply?

He began to pace around the large room.

He didn’t like that idea, not one little bit. Another man, other than him, kissing Kara? Touching her? Making love to her? No. No way. He didn’t know why, but the mere thought of another man being with Kara caused a painful knot to tighten in his gut.

There was no man in Kara’s life, he reasoned, because if there was, he would have been at the party with her, then stayed by her side during the crisis the MacAllisters were facing. Fine. Good. Kara was not in a committed relationship.

Andrew stopped pacing and shook his head.

He was losing it. It was none of his damn business who Kara might or might not be involved with. And heaven knew, he sure wasn’t intent on becoming seriously entangled with her.

But then again, facts were facts. Kara had returned that kiss in the elevator in total abandon, had melted against him, holding nothing back. She had wanted him, desired him, as much as he did her. Damn it, he knew she did.

Yeah, okay, so she’d attempted to dismiss what had taken place between them as the product of their fatigue and stress. Well, he wasn’t buying that. This was the light of the new day she had spoken of, and he wanted Kara MacAllister every bit as much as he had last night.

Kara, who had secrets in her past.

Would she come to trust him enough to tell him about her life, what had happened to cause her to be alone, a foster child with no family of her own? Lord, he hoped so. Why, he didn’t know, but he wanted, needed, her to trust him, believe in him, know he would never do anything to hurt her.

“Yeah, right,” Andrew said, sinking back onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve already hurt her by causing her uncle to have a heart attack. Sure, Malone, the lady will trust you without a second thought. Hell.”

Andrew took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

He was going nuts thinking about Kara. What was of utmost importance right now was the condition of Robert MacAllister. He was doing everything but stand on his head to postpone calling the hospital, because he was scared out of his shorts that Kara would tell him that Robert had not survived the massive trauma to his heart.

“Do it, Malone,” he said, picking up the receiver and looking at the piece of paper where he’d written the telephone number of the hospital.

A sudden vision of another hospital from years ago flashed in Andrew’s mind, and he replaced the receiver with a trembling hand.

He was fifteen years old and had come directly from school to see his mother in the hospital where she was dying of cancer.

He’d been six feet tall already, but hadn’t filled out, was all arms and legs and enormous feet on a skinny frame. He’d folded himself into the small chair next to his mother’s bed and held one of her hands with both of his, watching her sleep. A few minutes later she’d opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Hello, my darling,” Sally Malone said, her voice weak. “How was school today?”

“Fine. Good. Okay,” Andrew said. “How are you feeling, Mom? Are you in a lot of pain?”

“No, no, they keep me very comfortable, and have ever since I had to come here last week. I’m just very tired, Andrew. So very tired.” She paused. “Did you see your aunt Clara when you arrived?”

“Yeah, she was going outside for a cigarette. As soon as she saw me, she hightailed it for the elevator so she could get her nicotine fix. She probably needs a drink, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if she carries a flask in her purse.”

“Oh, Andrew, don’t be so hard on Clara. She’s a very unhappy person. She’s never known the joy, the wonder, of what you and I have together.”

“No one forces her to drink too much or to hook up with one loser after another. She makes her own misery, Mom. I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s loaded with money from when that guy she married died and left her everything, but she just hangs around her fancy house drinking and—”

“Shh. Be patient with your aunt Clara. You’re going to be living with her after…after I’m gone, and I hate the idea that you two will be at odds.”

“No, I’m not living with Aunt Clara. I can take care of myself. I look older than I really am and I’ll get a job and—”

“Andrew, please, stop it. Promise me you’ll go with Clara. I know you don’t want to leave your school and all your friends, but you’re to move up the coast to Santa Maria and live with Clara. The only other alternative would be for you to go into foster care, and I can’t bear the thought of your being with strangers. Promise me that you’ll finish high school while under Clara’s roof. Promise me, Andrew, please.”

Andrew sighed. “Okay, I promise. I’m not going to act like a son living with his mother, though. It will be a place to eat and sleep, nothing more. I don’t like Aunt Clara, Mom, and I don’t trust her. She always has a…a plan, a scheme or something. She looks out for herself and doesn’t give a rip about anyone else.”

“She just sees things differently than we do.” Sally drew a shuddering breath. “Oh, I’m so tired. I’ve fought this menace within me for as long as I could, but…Oh, my darling Andrew, I’m so sorry to be leaving you. You’ve brought me nothing but happiness from the moment you were born. I’m not afraid of dying. I just wish I could watch you finish growing up, see you marry, hold your babies.”

“Don’t wear yourself out, Mom. Take it easy,” Andrew said. “I don’t intend to ever marry. Loving someone gives them a power over you, the ability to destroy you, break your heart and…Never mind.”

“You’re wrong, Andrew. Love can be glorious, like a miracle, when you find the right person. Don’t deprive yourself of that just because I chose the wrong one. Sweetheart, do you resent the fact that I’ve never told you who your father is?”

“I don’t care who he is,” Andrew said firmly. “You said that you loved him, but he didn’t love you. That’s it. End of story. The guy broke your heart and I have no use for him. We’ve done just fine without him, whoever he is. You’ve said for years that it would serve no purpose for me to know his identity. That’s fine with me.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I would be upset if I thought you’d been angry all these years because I wouldn’t divulge your father’s name.” Sally closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at her son again. “Andrew? Please hold my hand. Please?”

“I am, Mom. I have your hand in both of mine. I’m right here.”

“I can’t feel…your hand. I…”

“Mom? Mother?”

“Forgive me for leaving you. Forgive me. Don’t grieve for me, my sweet baby boy. I want…you to…be happy. You deserve…to be happy because…you’ve brought me so much…joy. I’m so…tired. I love…you. I…love…you. I…love…”

“Mom!” Andrew said, tightening his hold on her hand. “No! Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Not yet. Mom! Oh, God, no-o-o.”

Andrew had buried his face next to his mother’s head on the pillow and wept.

The feel of tears on his cheeks jolted Andrew back to the present, and he stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room for a long moment, struggling to regain control of his raging emotions.

He dragged his hands down his face, then propped his elbows on his knees and skimmed his thumbs over the tips of his moist fingers.

He hadn’t cried since that day in the hospital when his mother had died, he thought. He’d wept then, until there were no more tears to shed.

And these tears? They weren’t for Sally Malone or for the lonely fifteen-year-old boy who had been forced into an early manhood. No, they were for Kara, and Robert, and for all the MacAllisters who were going through the horror of a long hospital vigil now just as he had experienced so many years ago.

They were suffering immeasurable pain because of what he had done. He had set off on a mission that his mother would not have approved of.

He’d been so determined that Robert MacAllister would acknowledge the existence of Sally Malone. But if she had truly wanted that recognition, what was rightfully hers, she would have approached Robert herself and demanded he take responsibility for her and his child.

“Ah, man, Malone,” Andrew said aloud, shaking his head. “You went off half-cocked, didn’t think it through, just reacted to Clara’s rantings and ravings, and that photograph in the newspaper, and…”

And now? An entire family was in pain because of what he had done. He couldn’t reverse it, couldn’t fix it, couldn’t do anything, except wait to find out if Robert MacAllister was going to survive.

Andrew snatched up the telephone receiver and dialed the number of Mercy Hospital. When someone answered, he asked to speak to Dr. Kara MacAllister.

“I’ll need your name before I page her, sir,” the woman on the telephone said.

“Malone. Andrew Malone.”

“Thank you, sir. Please wait on the line while I page Dr. MacAllister.”

Yes, he’d wait, Andrew thought. He’d wait for Kara to answer the page. He’d wait for Kara to trust him enough to tell him about her past, reveal her innermost secrets to him.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of one good reason she would even consider doing that.

“Oh, Kara,” Margaret whispered, “Robert looks so much better. See? There’s even a little color in his cheeks now.”

“Yes, there is,” Kara said. “He’s sleeping peacefully, Aunt Margaret.”

“Did you see the smile he gave me before he dozed off?” Margaret said, her eyes filling with tears. “That was my Robert.”