Cathy Gillen - The Heiress

In return, Charlotte had promised Iris that she and Richard would love Daisy and bring her up as their own. Iris would never have to worry or wonder what had happened to her baby—she would be able to see Daisy every day because they would grow up as sisters. And Charlotte had kept her promise. She had loved Daisy every bit as much as she had loved her own two children, if not more. But she had also known in her heart of hearts that Daisy was her first—maybe her only—grandchild. And consequently, she had tended to be too lenient with Daisy, as grandparents were wont to do. Whereas Richard had gone the other way and been too strict. Poor Daisy had been caught in the middle from day one, as their adopted daughter. No wonder she’d floundered around and felt there was something amiss. Because, Charlotte thought fiercely, there had been.

Now, Daisy knew the truth.

She knew they had all lied to her.

And she couldn’t forget and she couldn’t forgive.

Was Daisy ever going to come home? Charlotte wondered.

And what would she do when she did?

IT TOOK JACK ONE MONTH, two days and sixteen hours to find out where Daisy had run off to, and another half day to travel to Nevada. When he finally made it to the crummy studio apartment she had rented at the edge of town, he was mad as hell, and exhausted to boot. And she didn’t look much better when she opened her door to him. Her fair skin held the golden glow of desert sun and she was dressed as sexily as ever, in snug, worn, navel-baring jeans, tangerine tank top and western boots. Her wavy hair was as clean and silky-looking as always and caught up in a clasp on the back of her head. But there were shadows beneath her eyes and a weariness in her body language that hadn’t been there before.

Not that she was about to let him know that, however, Jack noted as their eyes clashed. “I was wondering when you would show up.”

Jack took the open door for invitation and followed her inside. The place was a mess. Although it was nearly noon, what looked like a breakfast of a glass of milk and a sweet roll sat on the table. The sofa bed was still pulled out and unmade. There were clothes, shoes and toiletry items scattered all over the place. He shut the door behind them, noting the laptop computer, printer and digital camera that were hooked up together. Even as they spoke, what looked like color tourist photos were spitting out of the printer one after another. Which explained how she had been getting by once her cash ran out. “It would have been sooner if you’d let me know where you were,” he said.

“What? And take all the fun out of it?” Daisy plucked her glass off the table and took a sip of milk. Expression sobering slightly, she continued, “I was going to contact you soon anyway.”

Jack had expected as much—when Daisy was ready. She was too confrontational to let what had happened between them that night go by without being addressed. Not that he was taking the blame for everything. She was at fault here, too. Figuring she would want him to give as good as he got, he said back, just as dryly, “To return my car, repay the cash you stole and reimburse me for the $2358.29 in credit card charges you racked up the last two days?”

Daisy shook her head, took another sip of milk, and still holding his gaze, said, “To tell you I’m pregnant.”

Her matter-of-fact tone hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Jack tensed, attempting to frame a retort, only nothing came out. Finally, he said, “That’s not funny, Daisy.”

An emotion he couldn’t quite identify glimmered in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know.” She waved her hand through the air, some of her customary rebelliousness coming back to her stance. “There’s a certain irony to it, don’t you think? I mean, the bastard of Tom Deveraux having the love child of his most trusted employee slash henchman. If you ask me—” her lips curved with mocking pleasure “—it’s like something straight out of a trashy novel.”

He was beginning to realize she wasn’t kidding. “Except this is real life, Daisy.”

Daisy sighed and put down her milk. “Ain’t that the sad truth,” she agreed.

Jack came closer. Unable to help himself, he looked at her stomach—it seemed as flat as always, but then if the baby was his, and his gut was telling him that it was, she was only four and a half weeks or so along. He swallowed around the unaccustomed tightness in his throat and returned his gaze to her face. “You’re sure about this?”

Daisy wiped her hands on a napkin and walked down to the other end of the narrow kitchen countertop. She plucked a piece of paper out from beneath a little sample bottle of what appeared to be vitamins and handed it to him. “I went to the Lake Tahoe clinic two days ago.”

He noted that the receipt said the clinic had billed her for a pregnancy test, new patient exam and consultation.

In a bored tone, Daisy continued, “You can go check out the test results for yourself if you want. I told them you were the father and you might be coming by.”

Still struggling to absorb the fact that he was going to be a father—that he was going to have a baby with Daisy—never mind figure out what this was going to mean to him, his life and everyone around them, Jack handed back the receipt. “That’s not necessary,” he said stiffly, guilt—and his own sense of failed responsibility—along with the news of his impending fatherhood, combining to hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. He forced the words through numb lips. “I believe you.” Just as he now believed they were in one hell of a mess, that was likely only going to get worse as time went on.

Daisy tilted her head as she studied him with narrowed eyes. After a moment, she noted softly, “You haven’t asked if the baby is yours.”

No. He hadn’t. And why hadn’t he? Jack couldn’t say why he was so sure. He only knew his gut was saying it was his kid. And his street smarts about people, whether they were good, bad or somewhere in between, were never wrong. Daisy might act out wildly, but she would never lie to him about something like this, especially given the way she had grown up, not knowing to whom she had been born. “I’m sure because I know you,” he stated firmly, more sure of that with every second that passed.

For reasons Jack couldn’t understand, his faith in Daisy’s honor upset rather than reassured her. “And how do you know?” she retorted, the deeply cynical look returning to her face. “Oh!” She snapped her fingers as if something just hit her with amazing insight. “I forgot. You and my biological father have been tracing my movements ever since I decided to try and find my real parents a few months ago.” She trod closer, bristling with a mixture of indignation and contempt. “That’s kind of ironic, too, don’t you think? That I hired the same private investigator my biological father hired to keep me from finding out what the Templeton and Deveraux families would’ve preferred I not ever know?”

Yeah, it had been a sticky situation, all right. Hardest on the top-notch P.I. who had unexpectedly found himself at the center of the quandary, being asked to represent both sides. But that was neither here nor there now, Jack thought. He shrugged. “It’s not surprising you both hired Harlan. He’s the best private investigator in the city.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t refuse to help me, given the fact that Tom had signed him first,” Daisy said sulkily.

“Harlan did go to Tom. Told Tom that you wanted to hire him and why and wanted to know what Tom wanted him to do. Harlan said he could refer you elsewhere or help you himself, but he wouldn’t lie to you or take your money or try and stonewall you—do anything else unethical or underhanded.”