Darlene Graham - This Child Of Mine

It simply could not be

Kitt looked down at the four-year-old girl beside her. With fresh eyes, she noted the child’s dark hair lying in a familiar pattern. The perfect little nose with its faint sprinkle of freckles. The full mouth…

No! Kitt pushed the idea away. Mark would surely have told her if he had a daughter, for heaven’s sake. He was the most honest man Kitt knew. So what if this child’s father was also a reporter for the Dallas Morning News? Mark surely wasn’t the only journalist here to cover the Fourth of July celebration on the Mall.

“I want my daddy now,” the child said to her aunt, the young woman standing on her other side.

“I know you do, sweetheart.” The woman bent to kiss her niece, then looked up at Kitt. “I’ve paged my brother twice. Mark should be here soon.”

Mark!

Dear Reader,

When I visited Washington, D.C. (and nearby Alexandria, Virginia) I was enchanted by the magical mix of permanence and dynamic change that I found there. I loved the museums! The art! The historic buildings! But most of all I loved the people. There is something enthralling, electrifying, about a place where movers and shakers converge to shape a nation’s destiny. It seemed the perfect setting for characters as bold and confident as Kitt Stevens and Mark Masters.

But even the boldest and most confident among us occasionally experience the feeling of not measuring up, of being “not good enough.” We all have days when we think we’re not pretty enough, or smart enough, or strong enough. Maybe we disappoint an employer, a friend or a loved one.

But the worst form of unworthiness is the feeling that we’ve failed ourselves.

You hold in your hands the story of one woman’s triumph over that form of unworthiness. Kitt Stevens had to make a hard choice that left her disappointed in herself. And because of that choice, Kitt doesn’t believe in love anymore. She doesn’t think she deserves love. She even believes she’s unworthy to mother a child. But through the steadfast devotion of a very special man named Mark Masters, Kitt learns to believe again—not only in herself, but also in the power of true love. I hope you enjoy Kitt’s journey.

Darlene Graham

Your kind comments about my books are always appreciated. Visit my Web site at http://www.superauthors.com or write to me at P.O. Box 720224, Norman OK 73070.

This Child of Mine

Darlene Graham

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Because this is the story that first brought us together,

this book is dedicated with deep appreciation

to my very fine literary agent, Karen Solem.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE

KITT STEVENS was looking for a man.

But that wasn’t what brought her up short, thinking, Who is that? as she stood in the enormous Corinthian-style doorway, where she had been halted by an uncharacteristic twinge of self-doubt.

The man who’d caught her eye—handsome, young, virile looking—was definitely not the man she was searching for. For a whole lot of reasons. And as soon as that thought flitted across her mind, the memory of the worst day of her life flashed up right along with it. It always happened like that: handsome man; worst day. Like some Pavlovian response or something.

Kitt reminded herself that she needed to stay focused. Her fiercest opponent was prowling around this room, probably at this very moment undermining all that she had worked toward in the past six months. Even so, her eyes strayed back to the good-looking man hovering around the food tables. He was still watching her.

But the nervousness she felt now wasn’t the result of the intense gaze of an incredibly handsome man—Kitt got looks like that all the time, and dealt with them—and her unease wasn’t because she still felt out of place at these stuffy congressional receptions, even after a year in Washington. It was Marcus Masters—a man she’d never met—who daunted her. His power. His wealth. His influence.

She tossed her silky reddish-blond bangs aside, cranked her confidence up a notch and stubbornly reminded herself that even if she didn’t have the advantages Marcus Masters had, she was a good lawyer, and a good fighter, too. And, furthermore, she reminded herself, the cause she was fighting for was a critical one. Marcus Masters, powerful or not, would simply have to be neutralized.

She stepped inside. People in impeccable business attire, squawking like geese, milled about among the heavy Federalist furniture and plush Oriental rugs. Classical music tinkled down from speakers in the high ceiling, melting into the heated conversation below.

To Kitt’s right, heavy drapes were drawn back from ten-foot-high windows, revealing the Washington Monument in the distance, shrouded by a haze of summer heat and lit to a Titian glow by the sinking sun. The stunning view gave the country girl in Kitt a tiny thrill.

To her left, tables overflowed with exotic hors d’oeuvres, while waiters swooped around the room with trays of drinks. Lauren had outdone herself.

“Kitt! You’re finally here!” Lauren rushed up and caught Kitt’s elbow. “Jeff predicted you’d do your workaholic act and miss all the fun.”

Fun? Lauren, honey, Kitt wanted to say, if standing around eating the same old finger foods, talking to the same old politicos, is your idea of fun, then you really must acquire a life. Lauren Holmes, a devoted congressional staffer who spent her days—and often her nights—charging around the bowels of the Capitol in sensible shoes, was a fine one to lecture Kitt about workaholism.

Maybe Kitt had been in Washington too long—the polished lobbyist side of her emerged too easily: “I wouldn’t miss your little do for anything.” She jerked her head toward the extravagant spread, but didn’t permit herself another glance at the handsome man. “I thought this was supposed to be a simple ice-cream social for the congressman’s new interns.”

Lauren shrugged. “Hey. If the broadcasters’ association lobbyists want to pay Ridgeways to cater this deal, Wilkens isn’t gonna say no. Like I keep telling you, this is Washington, not Oklahoma.”

Ain’t it the truth, Kitt thought. One thing she had quickly learned, in Washington words did not carry the same meanings as they did back home. In this town, simple ice-cream social meant elaborate cocktail party.

“You know the ethics rule.” Lauren made quote marks with her fingers. “As long as the lawmakers are standing—”

“They can feed at the trough all they want,” Kitt injected. She heaved a theatrical sigh, mostly to relieve her tension. “So ridiculous.”

“You’re just jealous because your organization can’t afford to feed the hogs. Be grateful I got you in here.”

Kitt smiled at her. Lauren and her friend, Paige Phillips, were the two best roommates on the face of the earth, and Lauren also happened to be the closest connection to Congressman Wilkens. “I am extremely grateful. And I’m grateful to Jeff for letting me know that the enemy’s inside the perimeter. All I want is a chance to take one peck at each congressman or senator.” Kitt pointed her slender index finger. “One tiny sentence, one word before Marcus Masters completely corrupts them with his buckets of money.”