A Mother's Secret (15 page)

“You can’t tell me you didn’t find another girlfriend right away.”
Please, please tell me you didn’t
.

He shook his head. “It was a while. Six months, maybe. And even then…” He moved restlessly in his chair. “No other woman has ever stayed the night at my house.”

No one had taken her place at the breakfast table, even if they had in his bed. Longing and hope dug their claws into her.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“Like I said. I missed you.” He shoved back the chair and stood. Suddenly his voice was hoarse. “Every goddamn day.”

Rebecca let out a sob. She wanted to hear other words, but these…these were a miracle all their own. She stood, too, and they met at the foot of the table.

No chance for second thoughts. He yanked her against him so hard, their bodies slammed together. His fingers tangled in her hair and tipped her head back so his mouth could claim hers. No tenderness, only raw hunger. The clutch of desire was so much more vicious than she remembered it.

One of her arms was painfully bent between them. She freed it and flung both around his neck, on tiptoe to press herself closer yet. Her mind blurred; Daniel was holding her, kissing her, as if he’d spent years dreaming about this kiss.

Her legs sagged; he backed her against the wall with a thump hard enough to rattle the china cabinet. Her shirt fell to the floor first, his on top of it. The hooks of her bra defeated him, and he swore and lifted his head long enough to deal with them. The next thing she knew, he hoisted her high enough to allow him to suckle her breast. With a squeak, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed against his erection as he took her other breast into his mouth.

Oh, now she wanted his T-shirt off even more. She pushed it up, even knowing she couldn’t succeed without him letting her go. And she didn’t want him to let her go.

“Beautiful,” he said, in an unrecognizable voice. His face was taut, almost savage. He kneaded her butt, rocked her against him.

Would they make it to the bedroom? If they’d gotten their pants off, he could take her against this wall. Except…

“I’m not on birth control,” she gasped.

He went still, then swore. “I think I have a condom in my wallet.”

If he didn’t have one…She almost didn’t care. Some risks were worth taking.

His mouth closed over hers once again, his tongue sliding along hers in a primitive rhythm that made her belly cramp. She peeled his tee off; he kept kissing her, even as he pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and opened it.
They pulled apart long enough for him to open the wallet and extract a slim packet.

I won’t think about why he carries one.

“I want you on a bed.”

She managed a nod. Self-control was good. Comfort was good. Not essential, but how would she feed Malcolm peanut butter sandwiches at this table with the memory of rutting on the floor beside it?

They bumped walls and corners. Rebecca left her shoes in the living room, her jeans in the hall. She had his unbuttoned, and his breath rasped as they staggered into her small bedroom. Daniel lifted her and dropped her on the cloud-soft duvet, stripped off his jeans and followed her down.

His hand was between her legs. She moaned his name, arched. “Please.”

Daniel rose above her. His hands were shaking as he tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. Seconds later, he nudged at her entrance even as he kissed her as if his life depended on this connection between them.

For a second it hurt, having him press into her. She was ready—oh, so ready—but this felt new again. It had been so long; she’d had a child in between. Daniel must have felt her stiffen; he lifted his head and watched her face as he pushed deeper, deeper, going so slowly she could see the strain on his face. And then he was buried to the hilt, filling her utterly.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” An inner tremor shook her, a hint of something sweeter, wilder. “Yes.”

He eased back as carefully, then pushed inch by inch, his eyes never leaving hers. This time, as he retreated, she lifted her hips to hold him, to welcome him, and his
control snapped. He thrust, again and again, his lips drawn back from his teeth, his eyes molten. Rebecca clutched at his shoulders with desperate hands and wrapped her legs around him so he couldn’t escape, not now, not this time. Never again. And her body simply…imploded. Some strange sound escaped her, maybe his name again, she couldn’t have said, as pleasure flooded her the way hot lava flowed sizzling into the sea.

She’d drawn Daniel with her. He jerked and groaned, his face buried in her hair. His weight sagged onto her, but she didn’t care. This must be what it felt like in the aftermath of a tornado, she thought, dazed, the silence absolute and shocking, the walls around them probably no longer standing. She would open her eyes any minute and find out.

The phone on her bedside stand rang.

Rebecca whimpered. Daniel mumbled an obscenity and pushed up on his elbows.

“You don’t have to answer.”

“I won’t. Unless it’s Malcolm.”

“Do you have caller ID?”

She nodded.

The mechanical voice from the answering machine in the kitchen announced, “Dunhill, Mark.”

Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then fumbled for the phone. “It’s him. Or maybe Judy.”

Daniel flipped off her to lie sprawled on his back.

She picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Mom?” Malcolm sounded terribly young. “I know I said I’d try to stay, but I’d really like to come home.”

“Aren’t you having fun?” she asked, marveling at her ability to sound so much like usual.

Daniel groaned and laid his forearm over his eyes.

“Yeah! We had lots of fun, and I liked Mrs. Dunhill’s spaghetti almost as much as yours. But now it’s time to go to bed, and…and I want to go to bed at home. Maybe
next
time I can stay all night.”

“Yes. All right. You tell Chace’s mom I’ll be there in a few minutes. Okay?”

“Okay!” He sounded jubilant. “Bye, Mom!”

“Bye, sweetie.” She hung up and let the phone drop onto the bed.

Daniel lifted his arm enough to roll his eyes her way. “You couldn’t say, ‘Tough, kid, you’ll survive’?”

“He’s four. And not so tough. Besides, do you have another condom?”

“Crap. No.”

“Well then.”

“God,” he said, and pulled her on top of his big body so that he could kiss her, a leisurely, sensuous exploration of her mouth while his hands kneaded her back.

Maybe Malcolm
could
spend the night….

Daniel slapped her butt. “No condom.”

Flushed, she scrambled off him with scant dignity. “Right. I need a shower.”

He didn’t follow her into the bathroom, thank heavens. No condom, she remembered. No birth control. He hadn’t wanted the first child, and wouldn’t want another surprise.

That hurt.

She’d kept her hair from getting wet by bundling it up on her head. As she got dressed, Rebecca couldn’t help wondering what he
did
want. Besides…well, what he’d already gotten.

I missed you every single goddamn day.
What did that mean?
I love you?
Or
We had something good, let’s recapture some of it?
Surely he must see that things were different now. How would she explain to her young son that the time she spent with his father didn’t mean anything, that they were just having fun for old times’ sake?

Should she ask? Let matters unfold? Admitting to as much vulnerability as he had must have been hard for Daniel. He didn’t like acknowledging that he had frail human emotions at all. Maybe it was unreasonable of her to expect more right away.

But, she didn’t think she could survive having him again, and losing him. If she’d been devastated the first time, what would it be when a few months from now, a year from now, he moved on, but she had to keep seeing him because he was Malcolm’s father?

Just like that, she was fighting for breath.
I shouldn’t have done this
.

Eventually she regained enough control to leave the bathroom with a semblance of poise. Daniel was already dressed and had laid her strewn clothing on her bed. Was he gone? But no, he waited in the living room, standing beside the sofa, his laser-sharp gaze going straight to her face when she appeared.

But he said only, “I’ll drive.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I’d like to see Malcolm.”

“Oh.”
Breathe
. “Yes. Okay. Then let’s go.”

Chace lived less than ten minutes away, thank goodness. Rebecca didn’t even try to make conversation on the way. Daniel drove in preoccupied silence.

He waited in the car while she collected their son, who
was delighted that Dad was here to get him, too. He started to fall asleep during the ride home, though, short as it was, and Daniel had to carry him in.

“Did you brush your teeth?” Rebecca asked.

He blinked at her over his dad’s shoulder. “Uh-huh. Chace’s mom made us. But I didn’t like Chace’s toothpaste. I wished I had our kind.”

Their house had only the one small bathroom, so they shared toothpaste. Maybe if she’d sent it with him, he would have stayed the night.

Yes, but maybe this was better. Her foolishness had had a time limit.

Daniel didn’t make any move to leave. Once she’d helped Mal into his pajamas and pulled his covers up to his chin, Daniel bent and gave him a clumsy kiss that seemed to be an imitation of her more practiced one.

“Good night, buddy.”

“’Night, Mom. ’Night, Dad,” Malcolm murmured sleepily. His eyes were shut by the time she turned off the light and pulled his door half-closed.

Daniel followed Rebecca to the living room.

“He has amazing self-possession,” he said, surprising her. “Is he ever shy? Or unsure of himself?”

She couldn’t help a small laugh. “No, I don’t think so. I swear, he was born with that ability to engage with people.”

“He didn’t get it from me,” Daniel muttered.

“I don’t know. Maybe you
were
like that. Before…” She stopped, then said apologetically, “He looks so much like you. I can’t help seeing you as a child and wondering in what ways you were like him.”

He ignored that, only watched her for a moment with
eyes that had darkened and looked somber. Then he dropped his bombshell.

“This probably isn’t the time or place, but…Rebecca, will you marry me?”

H
E
’
D ASKED HER
to marry him?

Assailed by dizziness, Rebecca held on to the back of the sofa as she gaped at Daniel. After a moment, she found enough voice to whisper, “You’re serious?”

“No, I joke about things like that all the time.” He hunched his shoulders, a frown knitting his brows. “Of course I’m serious!”

Then why was he all the way across her living room, his expression brooding? Why hadn’t he pulled her into his arms? Why wasn’t he kissing her, coaxing her, romancing her?

Because this wasn’t about romance.

“Um…Why are you asking?” She had to lay her fears on the table. “Because of Malcolm? Because it would be convenient if we were married?”

“I want you and Malcolm both in my house. But it’s more than that. I told you. I missed you.”

With some asperity, Rebecca said, “I miss having my sister as an ally. That doesn’t mean I want to spend my life with her.”

“What we just had was…amazing.”

Sex. He was talking about sex. He couldn’t spit out the words,
Making love
. No, the best he could do was
What we just had
. That chilled her.

“Yes, it was. So marrying me would be convenient
and
you’d get great sex.”

“Damn it!” He scowled at her. “What do you want me to say?”

Oh, God. She had to ask.

Rebecca swallowed and said, in a voice that was just a little tremulous, “I can think of only one reason to get married. Do you love me, Daniel?”

His face didn’t change expression. And yet, as surely as if she’d been touching him, she felt his entire body tighten and…retreat. “That’s…not a word I make a habit of using.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I could lie to you.”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

“I like you. I want to talk to you. Being inside you is…like going to heaven.” His voice became scratchier. “I need you.”

“But you don’t love me.”

“I don’t know!” He broke away to pace toward the kitchen, then swung back to face her. “Why does the word mean so much?”

He’d just confirmed her worst fears about him. She kept her voice level.

“It’s not the word that matters so much. It’s what lies behind it.” How sad, it occurred to her, that she had to explain love as a concept, as if he were an immigrant who didn’t grasp some uniquely American custom. “
Liking
doesn’t hold up the same way real love does. Friends drift away from each other. It’s love that makes someone family. Worth fighting for, even when things get hard.”

He grunted. “You can say that, even after watching your parents in action?”

“Their…love turned out to be destructive.” Yes, it had been love. “But, you see, they kept fighting because they didn’t want to let go. If they’d just liked each other, enjoyed sex, they’d have split up at the first hint of trouble.”

“And you
want
that?”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “Yes, I do. I want a man to love me enough that he’s never willing to let go.”
Unlike you.

He stared at her for the longest time. “I…don’t know how to give you that. How to be sure.”

She would not cry in front of him. She hadn’t the last time; she wouldn’t this time.

Rebecca nodded. Her voice emerged as barely better than a whisper. “I know.”

“Damn it, Rebecca…!” His face twisting, he took a step toward her.

“No.” She backed up until she bumped against the wall. “You need to leave now, Daniel.”

“We could be happy,” he said, with something that sounded very like desperation. Desolation.

“Would we? The need to be loved would eat at me, and you…You’d keep wondering how you’d let yourself get tied down. And Malcolm would be happy, until we broke up, when he’d be devastated. No.” She shook her head and kept shaking it, as though she’d forgotten how to stop. “Please go, Daniel.”

“If you think you’re getting rid of me that easily…” he growled.

It was all she could do not to crumple. “I know you want to keep seeing Malcolm. But…we need to find a better way for you to do it. You’re his father. We’re not a family. We shouldn’t be lying to him.”

He swore and swiped his hand over his face. Could he, too, be near tears? But he seemed to have scrubbed away the emotion.

Still, he sounded hoarse. “We weren’t lying. I wasn’t.”

“Daniel—” Her voice broke.

“I’m going.” He passed by her close enough to touch. Opened the door. Paused, his back to her. She stood still, waiting, but he walked out and closed the door without saying another word.

She stood there until headlights bounced off the front window, and his car backed out of the driveway, then accelerated on the street. Only when she could no longer hear the engine did her knees give way. Rebecca slid down the wall, wrapped her arms around herself for comfort, and cried.

T
HAT WEEK WAS ONE OF THE
bleakest of Daniel’s life. He replayed the conversation so many times the spool would have broken if it had been film. He could think of a thousand alternatives to what he’d said.

Maybe what I’m feeling
is
love
.

Maybe
. Yeah, way to sweep a woman off her feet.

And was it true? He didn’t know.

I won’t let you go. Ever.

That, he thought, could be truth. Was. Now that he’d had her back in his life, he couldn’t imagine
not
having her.

But those weren’t the words she wanted to hear.

Somewhere along the way, he got to wondering. She’d asked whether he loved her. But she had never said, “I can’t marry you because I don’t love you.” Which meant…God. He had to believe it meant she did love him.

Agony could intertwine with happiness like cancer in
filtrating healthy cells. Inseparable. Incurable, without cutting out the entire mass. How could he, a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word
love
, feel such inexplicable pleasure at the idea of one woman loving him?

His mother must have loved Robert Carson the way Rebecca wanted to be loved. Nothing, including unhappiness and the loss of her only daughter, had shaken that love. What had the bastard ever done to deserve that kind of devotion? Nothing! Impregnated her three times. Stolen her baby girl while abandoning her to raise the boys alone. But he never really left her, not long enough for her to heal, for her to let go.

I want a man to love me enough that he’s never willing to let go.

The only love Daniel had known was hurtful, darkness that shadowed lives, stripped the joy out of them. Because of it, his mother couldn’t let go. Did that make it triumphant?

He didn’t get it.

He called her midweek. Coolly, she agreed that he could take Malcolm Sunday. To the zoo? Excellent idea.

He’d see her at least. That was something. Maybe.

This was a really lousy time to hear from his newly discovered sister, Jenny. But she called nonetheless, told him she and her husband were out here visiting Sue, and asked if she could come see him. She didn’t want to say why, and he had no choice but to agree.

She arrived at the promised seven o’clock on Thursday evening. When Daniel opened his front door, he found her on the doorstep with her husband

Jenny was now fifty-six. Adam would have barely been out of diapers when she was born, which was why he
hadn’t remembered the existence of another baby. She was damn near a foot shorter than Daniel, maybe five foot three, if that, dark-haired, dark-eyed and stylish.

“Daniel!” She beamed at him as if they were best friends. Before he could retreat, she reached out and gave him a quick hug. Then she said, “Of course, you know Luke.”

The two men shook hands. Luke Bookman wasn’t quite Daniel’s height, but close. Sue was their only child, getting her blond hair from her dad and her brown eyes from her mother.

“Come on in. Coffee?”

They ended up following him to the kitchen, with Jenny oohing over his house. “It’s absolutely gorgeous! Did you restore it yourself?” She wanted to hear about everything he’d done, then said, “Please tell me you’ll host our next family gathering. Everyone is going to want to see this place. Why didn’t Joe ever say where you lived?”

Not until the coffee was poured, sugar and creamer provided, did she settle back and study him. “We don’t look much alike.”

“No, although given how dark Joe’s hair is…Your coloring might have come from our mother’s side of the family.”

“Yes.” She became pensive. “Joe looks extraordinarily like Dad, you know. I’m surprised nobody ever noticed.”

“Sue was the only one who’d known him long.” Daniel hesitated. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Haven’t you seen one?” she said.

“Joe showed me a couple. I was, uh, wondering more about Sarah.” He didn’t know why, but he’d been thinking about her lately.

“Oh.” She bent to pull her wallet out of her purse.

“Big mistake to ask,” Luke said with mild amusement. “Jenny
always
has pictures. Lots of them.”

He was right. She unfolded a regular accordion of clear plastic sleeves. A plump-cheeked baby, school pictures of a bright-faced blonde, the same girl grown, all whipped by as she searched. Finally she laid out two.

The first was obviously a wedding photo of Sarah and Robert Carson gazing into each other’s eyes. Sarah was a pretty woman made beautiful by happiness.

Happiness, Daniel thought, that had been transitory.

The second photo had been taken years later. Both were white-haired. Once again, though, he had that sense of connection between the two of them, of gentle affection at the very least.

A lump in his throat, he pushed them back to her. Jenny studied his face for a moment, then folded up the pictures and stowed her wallet away.

“Joe tells me you’ve never been married?”

He compressed his mouth, shook his head, then said, “I do have a son.”

Of course she wanted to hear all about Malcolm. He told her, within reason. She listened with apparent delight, asking all the right questions.

Funny thing, because once, as she leaned forward, lips parted, he saw his mother in her. Just a flicker, but distinct. That same expression, open, curious, the same curve of the mouth.

“You look like her,” he said abruptly. “Not coloring, but…Your face.”

“Really?” Vulnerability made her seem almost childlike. “Joe wasn’t so sure.”

“I just had one of those moments. As if she was sitting here.” Daniel shook his head to clear it. “She wasn’t a happy woman. You appear to be.”

“Yes.” She smiled at her husband, who took her hand. “I am.” Her smile died and her forehead puckered. “I wish I could have known her.”

“Even though she gave you up?” he asked brutally.

“She must have thought she was doing the right thing for me. It’s not like she gave me away to a stranger.”

“No.” And Jenny likely
had
been better off, even if she’d grown up believing a lie—that she was adopted rather than being as much her father’s child as Sam was.

Maybe, Daniel thought wryly, what he ought to regret was that his mother hadn’t given him away, too.

“And Dad…I wish he’d told me himself, but at least I always knew he loved me.” Her face clouded. “What I can’t understand is how he could have given me everything, and you and Adam nothing.”

There was a question.

Daniel heard himself say, “I’m not sure he knew I was his son. I don’t think even Mom knew who my father was.”

“Still, Adam…”

She sounded so woeful, Luke let go of her hand to wrap an arm around her and give her a squeeze. She flashed him a grateful smile, the tenderness between them palpable, enough to make Daniel shift uncomfortably and transfer his gaze to his nearly untouched coffee cup.

“You must wonder why I asked to see you,” she said.

He met her eyes again. “I did.”

“Well, you see, I have something for you.” She turned again to her husband, who reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed her a jeweler’s box.

What in hell…?

“We’ve talked. All of us in the family. You were the most left out. Well, and Adam, but he’s gone now. And we decided we want you to have this. To say, you’re a Carson, too. And…you’re entitled.” She pushed the small velvet jewelry box across the table to him.

Daniel felt…distant. As if he was looking down on this tableau. Down, even, on himself. He saw his hand reach out and take the box. There was a pause before he snapped the lid open and stared at the extraordinary diamond necklace nestled inside.

He’d heard about the Carson family heart-shaped diamond, passed down from eldest son to eldest son, supposedly a gift to an early Carson from his love, the daughter of a rich man. They would never be allowed to marry, and she’d given it to him so that he could afford to pay his passage to America. He’d worked his way instead, and kept the necklace. The necklace was worn only occasionally because it was so valuable. Somebody had, in all seriousness, called it the “heart of the family.” The diamond itself had to be several karats—it was certainly one of the biggest stones Daniel had ever seen and the most unusual shape—and the setting was old and lovely, crusted with sapphires. He imagined giving it to Rebecca, seeing it lying against the creamy skin at the base of her throat. He rarely felt lust for objects, but at that moment he did.

In the next moment, he snapped the box shut and pushed it back across the table. “I can’t take this.”

Jenny gazed at him. “Of course you can. Why shouldn’t you have it?”

“He didn’t acknowledge me. I don’t want anything that was his.”

“Joe was sure you’d say that.” She made no move to take back the velvet box. “I told him I’d persuade you.”

He still felt as if he was having an out-of-body experience. “How do you plan to do that?”

“Repeat that we all want you to have it.” She took a deep breath. “Mom left it to me, you know.”