Day Leclaire - The Baby Gift

Fury poured through him in waves. “Who the hell are you and what sort of sick joke is this?” He kept his voice low, but it still bit. She flinched, though she didn’t back down.

“It’s not a joke.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you and I were lovers?” His laugh held a harsh edge. “Pull the other one, sweetheart. There isn’t a chance that once I’d had you in my bed I’d forget such a memorable occasion.”

Her gaze fastened on him for an endless moment and he felt as if she were searching for something deep within him, fighting to elicit a response. Whatever she wanted, he didn’t possess. Rhonda had exorcised most of the gentler human qualities from him long ago. The silence stretched between them, drawn taut with unmistakable tension. It wasn’t quite a battle of wills, but it definitely resonated with the sort of emotional turbulence that had existed between men and women since the beginning of time.

At long last, her lashes flickered downward, cutting off her thoughts. No doubt she was considering her options. Not that she had any. He had no intention of having her responsibilities dumped on him. If she hadn’t already figured that out, he’d make it crystal clear in the next couple of minutes.

“Are you ready to tell me the truth?” he demanded. “Are you doing this in the hopes of getting money from me? Or are you just tired of taking care of your kid and looking for a convenient place to abandon him?”

She didn’t react with the indignant anger his words should have roused. To his amazement, compassion crept into her gaze, a compassion he neither wanted nor needed. “You sound so cynical.”

“I’m feeling rather cynical right now.”

“Nick’s your son, Alessandro. A simple blood test will prove it.”

“When and where was he conceived?” His mouth twisted. “And perhaps I should ask…with whom?”

She stiffened, his words clearly firing her resolve. Her mouth firmed and her posture straightened to painful erectness. Determination ignited the vividness of her eyes, eclipsing the earlier compassion, and she faced him with a ferocity at direct odds with her fey appearance. “It was two years ago next March. In fact, Nick was conceived on the first day of spring in a pretty little cabin on the outskirts of Asheville, North Carolina. A real cabin, rustic and simple and hewn from the surrounding trees with loving hands and hearts. He’ll be a year old on Christmas Day. His mother’s name is Meg. Meg Williams. Ring any bells, Mr. Salvatore?”

Meg. He tried out the name, finding it had a disturbing familiarity, though he could have sworn he’d never met anyone by that name. “I was in Asheville that March.”

“So you admit it?”

“No way, sweetheart. I’m not admitting anything.”

“You accuse me of trying to escape my responsibilities. What about you?” Despair drove the sweet illusions from her eyes. “Are you going to stand there and deny your part in Nick’s existence? I wouldn’t have thought so poorly of you, Alessandro. You always struck me as the upstanding sort.”

“Are you saying we had a one-night stand while I was there?” he forced himself to ask. He didn’t want to concede even that much. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in any position to defend his innocence.

“I’m not saying any such thing. I’m flat-out telling you it happened. And it wasn’t a one-night stand. You had a two-week relationship with Nick’s momma, Meg. You also claimed to love her.” A spark of indignation surged through her voice, pain underscoring every word. “Are those sorts of affairs so common, you don’t even remember? Or was it the woman you were with who proved forgettable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was?”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“Where was this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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