Judy Christenberry - Who's The Daddy?

“Are you coming, Caroline?” James demanded.

“Yes, I’m right behind you, Dad,” she answered, a smile on her face for Max Daniels. He remained in the room as the nurse pushed her out, her daisies clutched to her chest.

DAMN. Max stood alone in the hospital room and drew a deep breath. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But he hadn’t been able to resist. Even as pale as she was this morning, with a bruise on her forehead, Caroline was beautiful.

He’d only had two short weeks with her, but he’d missed her every day since she’d gone. Even though he called himself all kinds of a fool for still wanting her.

The two weeks they’d spent together seemed like a dream now, with a nightmare ending when she disappeared. He’d already been making plans for their future together. Plans that were aborted when she left.

She’d told him she was from Kansas City and had just moved to Denver. At first, she’d said she was looking for a job. He’d offered to introduce her to the interior design firms he used, had even told her who to contact. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized she’d never looked for a job.

Hell, he hadn’t given her time. He’d spent every moment he could with her. He couldn’t leave her alone. And he’d been making plans to keep her with him forever.

And now that he’d discovered she was an heiress, he knew they had no future together. Even if the baby was his. Her father wasn’t going to let her marry him. Not when there were two superstar executives waiting with open arms.

Max wasn’t even sure why he still wanted her. After all, everything she’d told him was a lie. Now he understood the old saying, ignorance is bliss. Those two weeks had certainly been blissful.

But if their two weeks had resulted in a baby, his baby, then he refused to be pushed out of the picture. He would not abandon his own child.

He shook himself from his misery. Feeling sorry for himself had never been his style. Instead, he formulated a plan and set about changing his circumstances.

Maybe that was what had frustrated him so about Caroline. He’d followed every lead he’d had, but he’d discovered nothing about her.

He reached the outer door of the hospital just in time to see a white limo pull away from the hospital. At least this time he had her telephone number. Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.

“WAIT!” PRESCOTT CALLED to the driver as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Please don’t shout.”

“But we’ve forgotten your flowers. That damned nurse probably thought she could get away with stealing them. Turn around and go back.”

“No!” Caroline contradicted. “Take us home, Lewis.”

The chauffeur, much to Caroline’s satisfaction, obeyed her.

“Caroline!” her father exclaimed. “How did you know?”

“What?” Her head hurt so much. She wasn’t sure she could remain upright until they reached the house.

“His name. You knew his name.”

“You must have said it,” she replied, frowning, trying to think.

“No, I didn’t. Your memory is returning!” he exclaimed happily. “That’s wonderful. I’ll give that doctor a bonus. Now,” he said, pausing to lean toward her, “which of these gentlemen is the father of your baby?”

Immediately the headache increased.

“I haven’t gotten my memory back. I don’t know how I knew his name.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m in so much pain.”

“And I don’t understand about the flowers. Didn’t you like them?” Prescott grumbled.

“They were lovely. But there were so many of them I asked the nurse to distribute them to others who weren’t going home. It seemed like the generous thing to do.”

“It was, and just like you, Caroline,” Adrian said as he smiled at her.

“Was it?” she asked coolly, leery of his friendliness. She decided his gray eyes were cold, even if his lips were smiling. And who knew if he was telling the truth? All she knew about herself so far was that she liked her own way, hated headaches, was pregnant, and apparently didn’t mind sleeping with more than one man.

That couldn’t be true. She never liked to share. In high school, her boyfriend had thought he could date her and her best friend at the same time. She’d shown him.

Another memory. She clutched it to her like a precious jewel. But when she tried to extend that grasp on the past, searching for other memories, she drew a blank. Frustration filled her.

“If you were so generous with the roses, why are you still holding those?” Prescott complained, gesturing to the daisies.

“Because I like them.”

He turned to glare at her father. “You said roses!” he accused. He sounded like a little boy, but his thinning hair showed him to be considerably beyond his youth.

If she’d needed confirmation that the roses had been sent at her father’s behest, his remark was it. She shot her father a knowing look.

“I was just trying to speed things up. I don’t want my grandchild born a bastard, so I suggest you select one of these fine gentlemen to marry you. They’re both willing.”

“And are you going to speak the words for them as they mime a proposal?” she asked, growing tired of her father’s arguments.

“That’s not necessary, Caroline, darling,” Prescott said, rushing in, as she should’ve known he would. She might not remember him, but she knew more about him than she wanted to already.

“I’m perfectly willing to marry you today if you’ll agree,” he continued, reaching for her hand.

She pulled her hands back. “No, thank you. I have a headache.”

Not an original excuse…for a lot of things, but it was the best she could come up with right now.

“I’d prefer to make my proposal in private,” Adrian informed her, sending a superior smile toward Prescott.

She’d prefer that he not make it at all. “Thank you, but I’m confused right now. I don’t think I’m ready to make any decisions.”

“Of course, but you won’t forget?” There was an edge to his voice that irritated her.

“I hope not.” It seemed to Caroline that a promise not to forget from an amnesiac victim wouldn’t be worth much. She wouldn’t believe her.

“Of course she won’t forget,” her father answered heartily. “And if she does, the three of us will be there to remind her. After all, she has to marry someone.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Now, Caroline, no argument. I’m an old-fashioned man, and I expect my grandchild to be born on the right side of the blanket.”

She ignored him.

“And if you don’t cooperate, you just might find yourself written out of my will.”

She might not have her memory, but the ease with which her father uttered those words made her suspect it was a threat he’d used before.

“Then call your lawyer, because I will decide what I do about my baby and my future. Not you.”

The look of panic on Prescott’s face that she might be written out of the will told Caroline her threat may have eliminated at least one potential daddy candidate. Whether her memory returned or not.

CAROLINE STARED IN AWE at the magnificent residence the limo stopped in front of, after having driven through a large gate flanked by brick walls. It must take an army of workers to maintain the lush grounds, she decided, her gaze traveling over the perfect flower beds, the exactly trimmed hedges.

She turned to compliment her father on the beauty of their home only to discover everyone staring at her. She felt like a bug under a microscope.

“No, I don’t remember,” she assured them dryly. “I’ll let you know when my memory returns.”