Lost and Found Groom, McLinn, Patricia [ebook reader for pc and android .txt] 📗

“I am,” he interjected.

“–you might as well come to the back door. That’s what folks do around here. Especially if we ever get the rain we’ve been needing and it’s muddy.”

“I’ll remember. What do you want to talk about?”

His directness made her foray into a weather report stand out all the more. What was her problem?

She’d thought this out last night. All of last night.

From that first moment of joy at seeing him, of knowing he was alive and safe, her feelings had jumbled contradictions on top of contradictions. She wouldn’t have thought it possible to feel so many conflicting emotions at once.

In the end, the rational and understandable point remained that she’d always wanted Matthew to have a father who loved him and was involved in his life. She had to pursue any possibility of that wish coming true for Matthew.

Daniel Delligatti pulled on different identities without a blink. How could someone like him be a good father? But she had to give it a chance–any failure to give Matthew his father must be on Daniel Delligatti’s plate, not hers.

Still, she had to guard Matthew against being hurt if–when?–his father dropped out of his life.

She took a swallow of coffee before finally answering, “I want to talk about Matthew. He’s the important issue.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I might have given you the wrong impression yesterday. With the shock and . . .” She watched her hand lower the cup, as if fitting it into the depression of the saucer constituted a tricky maneuver. “I won’t stand between my son and his father. We’ll work it out so you can see him.”

“Thank you.” His intense eyes studied her for what felt like an hour. “And you?”

“And me what?”

“Will I see you?”

“I’m not about to hand over Matthew and leave you to your own devices, if that’s what you mean. I’m going to be around as much as it takes to make sure he’s okay–and you can be trusted.”

“I would never let any harm come to him.”

Despite their history, despite his lies, despite her good sense, she believed him. And that roused her anger.

“You won’t get a chance to harm him. I’ll see to that. So, yes, you’re going to be seeing me. As often as you see Matthew. There won’t be unsupervised visits until I’m totally satisfied.”

“I understand. But that’s not what I meant about seeing you.”

“Then I have no idea what you meant.”

“Yes, you do, Kendra.”

His brown eyes regarded her steadily. They were Paulo Ayudor’s eyes. The eyes of a man who hadn’t existed.

Except. . . In this light they weren’t as dark as they’d been in the murkiness of their shelter from Aretha. There, they’d seemed as black as his pupils. But now she saw the warmer tones of chocolate brown and even flecks of green and gold.

Paulo’s eyes had accepted whatever she’d told him. These eyes challenged her to admit the truth–at least to herself.

She did know what he meant. And that part of her that had hesitated over his outrageous marriage proposal last night wanted to agree. That made her even angrier.

“You can’t disappear into the night as a Santa Estellan named Paulo Ayudor, go back to being the legendary Taumaturgio for three years, pop up as Tompkins, then stroll in as a someone named Daniel Delligatti and think things will be the same.”

“What was there between us is the same. Unless. . . You’re not married–are you involved with someone?”

“That has nothi–”

“This Luke?”

“Luke’s a friend.” She’d meant to get answers, not give them. “And that isn’t the issue. You and I–we’re strangers. Strangers in the uncomfortable position of having a child together. We don’t–”

“We’re not strangers. We’re the same people who spent those hours together we thought might be our last on earth. The hours when we made Matthew.”

She ignored his final words, and the frisson they set loose along her backbone.

“No, we’re not the same. You’re certainly not–that was all fiction for God’s sake.” She hurried on before he could object. “And I’m not the same. From the time I found out I was pregnant, from the time I knew I would be raising my son alone, I became a different person.”

“Not deep inside, Kendra. There you’re the same person. So am I. And you know that person. But if you think you don’t know me, I’ll give you the opportunity to fill in blanks you think need filling in, like some form. Go ahead, ask me whatever you want. And–” He slanted a faintly amused look at her. “–whatever your sources haven’t already told you.”

This wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. Pushing back the uncomfortable sensation of being caught off guard, she snapped, “You’re surprised I wanted to check out your story?”

“Not surprised. A little disappointed. But you shouldn’t be surprised I knew about it, either. You have your sources, I have mine.”

“Disappointed? That I don’t take you at your word – again–and let myself be lied to–again? Let me tell you, Daniel Benton Delligatti, when it comes to my son, I’m not taking any chances.”

“I know.” His words were not the least contrite. “That’s why I told people to tell your sources anything they want to know that doesn’t compromise security.”

“And you shouldn’t mind answering my questions directly, either,” she challenged, glaring into his eyes. Almost immediately, the danger of locking looks announced itself in a new warmth under her skin. She blinked, then studied his shoulder as she added, “Starting with how you became Taumaturgio.”

He said nothing. As the silence continued, she realized he would wait as long as necessary–until she met his eyes. She jerked her chin up and met his gaze.

“This is off the record, Kendra.”

“I doubt the Far Hills Banner would be interested in secret missions in Santa Estella. Organizational meetings for childcare cooperatives are more its style.”

“It’s not the Far Hills Banner I’m talking to. It’s Kendra Jenner, and I know what kind of reporter she is–wherever she’s working. Off the record.”

She was tempted to tell him she didn’t let sources dictate to her. But she’d