Rebecca Winters - Claiming His Baby

This was agony in a dimension he couldn’t begin to describe. In truth, the intensity of the loss he was feeling staggered him.

Dios.

After thirty-seven years it was finally happening.

“Heather? Wait up!”

No. Not Todd.

She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. If she pretended she hadn’t heard him, she might just get away with losing him once she’d entered the practice hall.

“Hey—” The blond pianist from Michigan caught up to her inside the doors. “I’ve been waiting to congratulate you on winning the Bacchauer. Everyone’s talking about it. You’re famous!”

“I don’t think so, Todd, but it’s very nice of you to say so.” She continued walking down the hall to the cubicle where she practiced. He kept up with her.

“Later on tonight I’d like to take you out for a spaghetti dinner to celebrate. Do you have plans?”

She pulled the keys out of her purse and unlocked the door, then looked over at him. “I’m afraid I do. It’s already three o’clock, and I need to put in at least six hours of work, but I appreciate the thought.”

He rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. “Tomorrow night then?” His hopeful expression increased her guilt.

Heather had only been with Todd in group situations. She’d never had a romantic interest in him or any other man. It had taken the trip to Salt Lake for her to finally understand why.

Something earthshaking had happened to her there. Something she couldn’t talk about to anyone.

“I can’t, Todd. I’m sorry. Day after tomorrow I leave for Vienna and need to get in as much practice as possible before I go. Thank you anyway, though.” She went inside and shut the door, locking it to make sure no one else bothered her.

This was the only place she could be alone. She shared a room at the residence hall with another female student, but there was no peace in the dorm, especially since the news had gotten around about her winning the competition.

Everyone had been wonderful to her, and their praise meant a great deal. Yet the continual talk about her promising future on the concert circuit was choking her.

Free to give in to her emotions where no one was witness, she sank down on the piano bench and buried her face in her hands. Today was Monday. He was in the air now, winging his way back to South America. She could hardly bear it.

Ever since he’d walked into the Dorneys’ study, she’d been haunted by his image, the sensation of his hands on her shoulders. She’d never be able to forget what he’d said to her, not when she’d felt the same way about him.

I’m attracted to you. To be frank attracted is a mild word. To be totally honest, I’d like to take you away to some isolated haven where I could make love to you for weeks on end.

“I’ve got to get you out of my mind, Raul,” she whispered in agony to the empty room. “I’ve got to. Otherwise, I don’t know how I’ll be able to go on living.”

Wiping the moisture from her eyes with the backs of her hands, she plunged into her scales, ferociously attacking them in an effort to drive one Dr. Cardenas from her consciousness.

The cubicles of Juilliard’s practice hall seemed to be full of students. As Raul entered the building, music surrounded him at every step. He looked on the placards outside each door, but some of them didn’t have names. So far he hadn’t found the one he was searching for.

If he didn’t make contact with Heather, no one would be the wiser. It was probably just as well. She represented forbidden fruit. Any kind of relationship with her would be vetoed by her father. Raul had already been warned off by Dr. Sanders’ behavior in Evan’s kitchen.

As for Heather, he couldn’t imagine what kind of reception he’d get if they met again, not after certain things he’d said to her in private. Those words had poured from his psyche without his volition, shocking him as much as they’d immobilized her.

When he didn’t see her name anywhere, he decided he’d made a mistake in coming here. Living on campus at Lincoln Center in the heart of New York, she could be in a dozen different places. At this point it would be wisest to head back to the airport where he would wait to board his flight to Buenos Aires.

But as he turned to walk back the way he’d come, he spotted a blond male dressed in shirtsleeves and shorts leaning over a drinking fountain. Obviously he was a student here. On impulse, Raul approached him.

“Excuse me, but I’m looking for a pianist named Heather Sanders. She’s a gilt blond with blue eyes. Do you know her?”

The younger man lifted his head. As he stared hard at Raul, the glint of hostility flashed in his eyes. “Who are you?”

The guy was so painfully obvious, Raul had to fight back a few choice retorts. But on another level he was relieved the younger man was watching out for her. A stranger up to no good could be loitering around here, lying in wait for a woman like Heather. Possibly that was the reason she hadn’t put a sign outside her door.

“My name is Dr. Cardenas. I’m an acquaintance of hers from Salt Lake. Do you know if she’s in the building?”

The words “Salt Lake” must have done the trick. After a short pause, “That’s her practice room,” the guy said, inclining his head toward the door opposite them. “But I wouldn’t disturb her right now if I were you.”

Raul’s pulse rate tripled. Heather was here. His eyes closed tightly for a moment.

“She’s getting ready to go on tour,” the man continued to inform Raul as if he were Heather’s personal press secretary and watchdog rolled into one. “The best thing to do would be to leave a message. I’ll see that she gets it.”

I’ll just bet you will. “I appreciate that, but my plane leaves too soon to wait for her to contact me. Thank you for the information.”

Ignoring the younger man’s glower, Raul walked across the hall to the door and listened. She was working on the Brahms Piano Concerto Number One, another favorite of his. Feelings stirred inside him. He knocked.

If Heather had thought she could exorcise Raul Cardenas from her thoughts with a grueling practice schedule, she was very much mistaken. To her consternation, the increased isolation in the cubicle tended to make her concentrate on him to the exclusion of anything or anyone else.

When a knock came at the door, she ignored it. Hopefully the person on the other side would go away and leave her alone. Surely Todd had gotten the message and wouldn’t dare bother her now.

The knocking persisted.

Almost angrily she pounded out the last set of chords and jumped up from the piano bench, pulling her T-shirt down over her shorts. With the light of battle in her eyes, she undid the lock and opened the door.

There was instant stillness as she gazed up into the sun-bronzed face and midnight eyes that had scorched her with their intimate perusal in Evan’s study three nights ago.

Without her high heels, his six-foot-two physique seemed even taller, his black hair curlier in the humidity. He was the most gorgeous male she’d ever beheld.

Heather held on to the door. She was afraid that if she let go, she would sink to the carpeted floor. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, she couldn’t think of one. Fear that he’d sought her out because of some family crisis prevented her from saying anything at all.

Raul was still trying to recover his breath. He’d been living with the image of her in the long black dress she’d worn to play with the symphony. He wasn’t prepared for this side of her in a ponytail and bare legs. She wore no makeup, and looked utterly desirable.

“Your bodyguard out here in the hall seems to think you wouldn’t want to be disturbed. Is that true?” he inquired silkily.