Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(31)

"What the hell is going on?" he muttered more to himself than anyone else.

Hearing a noise at the top of the stairs, he lifted his head to find   Vanessa descending with Danny in her arms, two of his mother's staff   trailing behind, arms loaded with even more of his ex-wife's and son's   belongings.

"Thank you so much for all your help," Vanessa was saying. "I really appreciate it."

"What's going on?" he asked, more loudly this time.

Vanessa's head jerked up at his sharp tone or his sudden, unexpected appearance, or both.

"Marc," she breathed. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

"Obviously."

His brows drew down in an angry, suspicious frown as she stopped at the   bottom of the steps. The two maids dipped their heads and mumbled about   taking her things out to the waiting cab, then disappeared as quickly  as  they could.

"Sneaking off again?" he accused, not caring that his voice was cold with disappointment and betrayal.

She was leaving him again, was all he could think. He'd asked her to   spend just a few days with his family-a week at the most-and she hadn't   made it even two days.

They'd made love last night, more than once. Slept wrapped in each   others' arms. He'd thought-stupidly, it turned out-that they had turned a   corner and might actually be able to make their relationship work.

But while he'd been falling in love with her all over again, and   thinking about reconciliation, she'd been planning a timely escape.   Exactly the same as before.

Exactly. Because the last time she'd left him, she'd been pregnant with   his child … and there was a good chance the same was true now.

"No," Vanessa said, nervously licking her lips. "I mean, yes, I'm   leaving, but no, I'm not trying to sneak off. I left you a note   upstairs … on the back of the one you left for me this morning."

Well, that was different, at least, he thought with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"And a note makes up for taking off in the middle of the day while I'm at the office?" he shot back. "With my son?"

"Of course not," she returned, looking strangely not guilty. "Although   when you read the note, you'll see that I explained I'm not really   taking off. I'm simply leaving the estate for a hotel downtown. I was   going to stay there until I had the chance to talk to you."

He cocked his head, wondering what she could be up to. But then curiosity won out and he heard himself ask, "About what?"

She swallowed hard, her blue eyes going dark and oddly blank. "Your mother asked me to leave."

His own eyes went wide in surprise. "Why?" Why would his mother ask his   wife-his ex-wife, he corrected himself silently-to leave?

"For the same reason she drove me away last time-because she hates me.   Or at the very least disapproves of me greatly. As far as she's   concerned, I'm not good enough for you and I never will be." A small   smile touched her lips as she added, "Of course, this time she was much   more forthright about wanting me gone, probably because I told her  off."

"You told my mother off," he murmured, trying to process what he was   hearing, but growing more confused by the minute. "Why would you do   that?"

The amusement that had begun to touch Vanessa's features vanished, turning her face hard and defensive.

"Because I refuse to let her push me around any longer. I refuse to let   her make me feel inferior just because she will always think of me as a   lowly waitress, unworthy of her son's misguided affections."                       
       
           



       

Marc shook his head and started forward. "This is just a   misunderstanding. Mother can be distant, I know, but she's thrilled   about Danny and I'm sure she's pleased to have you back at the house, as   well."

He reached out to grasp her shoulders, but she took a quick, single step back.

"No. It's not a misunderstanding, Marc," she told him, her tone   implacable. "I know you love your mother and I would never ask you to   change that. I would never intentionally try to drive a wedge between   you and your family. But as much as I love you, I can't be here   anymore."

Marc's chest tightened at her words. She loved him … or claimed to, at any   rate yet she was preparing to walk away and leave him. Again.

"You love me," he scoffed, tossing the declaration back in her face.   "Right. You love me, but you're leaving. Again. And what about Danny?   What about the child you might be carrying now? My child. Are you going   to run off and hide another pregnancy from me? Keep another baby from   its father?"

She blanched at that, and God help him, he was glad. He knew he was   being cruel, saying things to intentionally hurt her. But damn it, he   was hurting, too. He was being betrayed a second time by the only woman   he'd ever loved and who'd claimed-more than once-to love him in return.

"That's not fair, Marc," she said in a small voice, tightening her grip on Danny.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it, Vanessa? Signed divorce papers or no   signed divorce papers, you knew you were pregnant when you left town the   last time and you didn't even bother to tell me."

Because Danny was starting to fuss at her hip, she lowered her voice, but her temper came through loud and clear.

"Don't you dare lay that entirely at my feet. I kept Danny a secret,   yes, but only after you refused to speak to me. I tried to tell you I   was pregnant, but you couldn't be bothered to listen."

Marc's gaze narrowed. What game was she playing at now? he wondered. If   what she said was true, it was news to him-and he sincerely believed he   would remember his ex-wife telling him she was carrying his child.

"What are you talking about?" he asked carefully.

"I called you. As soon as I realized I was pregnant, I called you at the   office, but you said-and I quote, because I will never forget the  words  as long as I live-there's nothing you could possibly have to say  to me  that I want to hear. End quote."

Well, now he knew something fishy was going on. Because he'd never uttered those words, not where Vanessa was concerned.

"I never said that," he murmured quietly.

"Yes," Vanessa retorted with conviction, "you did. Or at least that's   the message Trevor said he was ordered to give me on your behalf."

"Trevor." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

For a second, Marc wasn't certain if the thin sheen of crimson falling   over his eyes was imaginary or if he was literally seeing red. He did   know, however, that his blood pressure was rising like a geyser about to   erupt and his hands were fisting with the urge to punch something. Or   someone.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and   punched the button for his assistant's line at Keller Corp. Trevor   Storch picked up on the first ring.

"Yes, sir," the overeager young man answered, well aware of who was calling thanks to Caller I.D.

"I'm out at the house. I want you here in under fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir," Trevor responded dutifully and Marc could almost see him   jumping up and rounding his desk before he'd even returned the telephone   to its cradle.

Meeting Vanessa's wary blue gaze, he snapped his own phone closed.   "He'll be here soon and then we'll get to the bottom of this mess once   and for all."





Fifteen




The seconds dragged on like hours, the minutes like years. Vanessa stood   at the bottom of the stairs while the stony silence in the foyer grew   heavier and more suffocating.

Danny wasn't getting any lighter, either. Shifting him to her other hip,   she started to lower herself into a sitting position on one of the   wide, carpeted steps, but Marc moved forward to stop her.

"Let me take him," he said brusquely, holding out his arms.

For a moment, she hesitated, the panicked thought that if she let Marc   take the baby, she might never get him back racing through her mind. But   if she tried to hold on to him now, then her avowals that she wouldn't   try to keep Marc from seeing their son would be a lie, wouldn't they?                       
       
           



       

Hoping Marc hadn't noticed her uncertainty, she handed Danny over,   rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms to work out the kinks.

"He's getting big, isn't he?" Marc said, a small smile curving his lips.   The first he'd offered since spotting her luggage in the middle of the   entryway.