Anna Adams - The Secret Father

Olivia forgot how to breathe. How much had she changed? It didn’t seem to matter. Zach’s smile held no hint of recognition.

He held out his hand. “You must be Olivia Kendall.”

HIS VOICE WAS AS THICK as if he were thinking of making love to her. He clearly was not, but Zach’s low, husky, I’ve-waited-for-you-all-my-life tone had seduced her when they’d met the first time.

She’d been unable to forget him. He obviously hadn’t bothered to remember.

Seeking composure, she crossed to his desk and offered her hand. “Call me Olivia.” For Evan’s sake she had to feel out the situation and wait for the right moment to remind Zach of their past.

The moment he closed his fingers around hers, the past flooded back, images of his hand on her waist, at her breast, the male scent of him as he’d lowered his head to kiss her. She gritted her teeth, recognizing the texture of his palm as if she were touching her own skin.

Why had this man remained such a part of her? As if what she wanted to feel didn’t matter. She backed up a step. He had to release her. Curiosity flickered in his gaze, but not recognition. Her first love had forgotten her.

“Have a seat.” Zach gestured to two leather armchairs that flanked a low table in front of his desk. “Coffee?”

“Thanks.” A few moments’ distraction might remind her why she’d come. Sitting, she unzipped her briefcase.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Both, please.”

With a pleasant, interested smile, he handed her a foam cup and then took the chair beside hers. He stretched his legs in front of him. “You’ve come a long way to talk about a bank robbery that didn’t come off.”

She busied herself with her briefcase zipper, covering her shock at his continued detachment. She’d made a child with this man, but she’d clearly had no idea who Zach Calvert was beneath his skin. She plucked a business card from her briefcase and passed it to him. “Let’s talk about your suspect.”

Without a glance at her card, he slid it inside his uniform pocket. “I’m not sure I can add to the stories you’ve already seen.”

Such a weak attempt to stall woke her share of Kendall determination. “I’d like to talk to the guy.”

Zach glanced toward the back where the cells probably were. “The FBI already picked him up.”

Olivia pulled out the robbery folder. “I read that he belongs to a local militia group?”

“Not local, from a town over the Kentucky border.”

Zach sounded defensive, protecting his town’s reputation. He still loved his home. What were his current feelings on family?

Olivia studied his knife-sharp collar, his gleaming black shoes, their high shine a hint of the Navy officer from Chicago. Addicted to danger and flight, he’d still been drawn to this rural mountain town, but he’d never mentioned a need to settle here for good.

Whatever had happened to him had made him focus on home and hearth. He’d quickly had a daughter. How would he feel about their son?

She gave herself a mental shake. “Did the guy want funds for a specific action?”

“He requested an attorney when he regained consciousness. By the time we found a public defender, the FBI showed up and took him to their office in—” He stopped as if he hadn’t meant to say so much. “The feds are investigating the robbery and the suspect’s affiliations.”

“So you disarmed him, but now you’re out?”

He frowned, interest turning into irritation. “I did my job when I kept him from killing any citizen of this town.”

She was searching for a sense of responsibility that belied the way he’d left her. “Weren’t you afraid the guy might kill someone when you attacked him?”

“I recognized his gun.” His matter-of-fact tone implied anyone would have, and anyone would have acted. “I just had to make sure he was unconscious before he applied enough pressure to the trigger to fire.”

“Your Navy training helped you do that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know I was in the Navy?” His tone had dropped another disquieting octave.

“I investigated your background before I came.”

His expression went protectively flat, but antagonism jerked a muscle tight in his jaw. “What do you want, Ms. Kendall? Why come all the way from Chicago to talk about a three-day-old story?”

He suspected ulterior motives. It was the moment she’d waited for, and she went blank. All she could think was how loudly the clock ticked on his desk.

Time to come clean. “Why are you pretending you don’t recognize me?”

His chiseled face hardened to stone. “I’m pretending?”

She licked dry lips. “Maybe not.” Her father would be appalled. No one forgot a Kendall. She’d cared so much for Zach, his response humiliated her, but Evan’s best interests made her go on. Finding out who Zach had become was worth some loss of face. “You and I met each other six years ago in Chicago while you were in the Navy.”

“Chicago?” He sounded as if he’d never heard of the city.

“This is ludicrous. Surely you remember Chicago even if you forgot me?”

“No.” He stood, his posture guarded, danger in his eyes.

She was probably seeing the same gaze the bank robber had just before he’d found himself unconscious. She rose on shaking legs and wiped her clammy palms down the sides of her skirt.

She could describe every sinew beneath Zach’s dark clothing. She could tell him he slept with one arm crooked beneath his head, the other flattened on his belly. She should have the advantage. Instead, she was trying desperately not to collapse at his feet.

He turned to his desk. “I was stationed in California until an accident forced me to resign my commission.” His mouth tightened. “Why are you here?”

Now they both understood she had the advantage, and Zach didn’t like it.

“I came to talk to you.” His stare accused her of setting an ambush. Maybe she should let him cool down before she told him about Evan.

“I have no information you’d want to print, Ms. Kendall.”

“You know my name is Olivia.”

He turned toward the door, his dismissive attitude suggesting she use it. “We’re done.”

She groped inside her briefcase for the framed picture she’d packed that morning. Zach shifted his hand to his holstered pistol. It wasn’t in the least funny, but Olivia wanted to smile. He didn’t trust easily either.

“I’m sorry to do it this way.” She hadn’t come here to be unkind. “But I don’t think you’ll believe me without proof.” She held the photo against her chest. “I met you in Chicago. You were taking some kind of a class. I believed we cared for each other.” She broke off. “I’m rambling because I’m nervous, but here’s what happened. You left for a training mission—it was supposed to last two weeks—but I didn’t hear from you for over a month, and then I saw a wire release that said you were dead.”

He stared. For a moment, time tunneled. She was trying to reach him, but he’d left her behind. “Zach, look at this photo.” She turned it, showing him his son’s face.

At first his eyes widened. His nostrils flared with each deep breath. When he opened his mouth, a sigh eased between his lips. “No.” Anguish added a syllable to the word.

Olivia held as still as she could, considering she was trembling. His “no” didn’t mean he’d denied Evan was his child. He could have trouble believing he’d forgotten his son.

“I would have told you I was pregnant, but you left before I knew.”

Without looking at her, Zach came back, his leather belt creaking in the thick silence. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He curled his fingers around the photo’s frame and her hand. Unable to bear the heat of his touch, she let the picture go.