Long Time Coming (4 page)

Her voice didn't sound normal at all. The burn had caused it to go husky and rough.

Either that, or Law's touch had. As his fingers continued to slide between hers, she squirmed on her seat and rolled her lips inward to keep from making small whimpers of pleasure. His touch also elicited a fluttering sensation in her lower body and a tingling in her breasts, especially at their centers.

"I was with Sharon before anybody ever heard of AIDS," he was saying. "I've always used condoms to prevent pregnancy. I wouldn't have had sex with a girl I met on the Galveston beach without wearing one."

His hand massage was too wonderful. It was about to liquify Marnie with the ease that their combined body heat was melting the butter into her skin. Regretfully she pulled her hand out of his reach.

"Then you're still not convinced that David is your son."

"Be fair," he said, leaning across the table. "I didn't even know he existed before today.

Do you expect me to blindly accept your explanations as fact?"

"I don't expect anything from you, Colonel Kincaid," she said frostily, "I told you that at the door of the hospital."

"Well, I'm not the kind of a man who can shrug off even the possibility that I fathered a child. Granted I might get testy, because this is a real shocker. So indulge me. Let me ask a few questions and give me straight answers."

She moved her cup and saucer aside and propped her forearms on the table, providing ventilation to her injured hand. "So ask. What do you want to know?"

"How could David be mine if I took precautions?"

"You didn't."

"How the hell do you know?" he demanded frowning sternly. "Or was that a game?

Chesty Sharon got to make it while little sister got to watch?"

Marnie grabbed her purse and scooted to the edge of the booth. He caught her arm.

"I'm sorry. Uncalled for. Please." She worked her arm free but his eyes arrested her.

"Please, Marnie."

Perhaps it was hearing her name coming from his lips for the first time in seventeen years, or perhaps it was her own need to set the record straight after so long a time. For whatever reason she slid back into the booth.

"I can see why you might not hold Sharon in high regard," she told him stiffly. "After all, she was easy. But I don't deserve your insults."

"I said I was sorry and I meant it. Okay?" She conceded with a terse nod. "So how do you know what happened?"

"Sharon told me that you didn't have … that you were … unprepared one night.

According to her, things had gotten pretty uh, hot." She glanced up at him inquiringly.

"I'm with you so far. Go on."

"She didn't want you to stop, so she lied to you. She told you that she was taking birth control pills."

He gazed into near space a moment, then shook his head. "I don't remember."

"You'd been drinking beer all afternoon."

"Then it's possible, I guess."

"Colonel Kincaid, I—"

"Will you please call me Law?" he said irritably. "I remember wrestling with you in the sand and rubbing suntan oil on your back. So call me Law, okay?"

He remembered. At least a little bit. She derived tremendous pleasure in knowing that.

His memories of her might be dim, but they were there.

"It doesn't matter if David is or isn't your son," she said quietly. "Our lives will go on exactly as before."

"You're forgetting one important point, Marnie."

"What?"

"The letters."

She raised her hands helplessly "How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't write them?"

"That makes them even more of a problem."

"I don't see—"

"If you didn't write them, someone else did."

Thinking of it from that angle caused her brow to furrow with concern. "I'm beginning to see your point."

"You say you don't want anything from me."

"I don't."

"But whoever is writing the letters does. And that makes David as vulnerable as I am."

"You don't think someone would hurt him, do you."

"I don't know. Probably not. But that's a possibility."

She pulled her lower lip through her teeth. "What are we going to do?"

"I didn't mean to worry you. It's just something for you to be aware of while we try to figure out whose game this is. Any ideas?"

"None. David looks like you, but you'd almost have to be standing side by side for anyone to realize it."

"What about the doctor who delivered him? Would he have a motive for blackmailing me?"

"I don't know. We moved away from that neighborhood and I haven't heard of him in years. Besides, he didn't know who had fathered Sharon's baby."

"Could she have confided in a close friend?"

"I don't think so, but anything's possible. You think that somebody knew and, once you got famous, they remembered and decided to cash in?"

"That's my theory, yeah." He studied his coffee for a moment, cleared his throat, then in an off-handed manner said, "That rest home where your mother's living is certainly deluxe."

"It's operated by the church Dad was affiliated with. They give a price break to minister's widows … so you can stop right there thinking what you're thinking." Quickly he raised his head. Marnie was glaring dangerously at him.

"It hasn't always been easy," she said in an angry undertone, "but I've done all right for myself and David. We're not rich by any means. He hasn't had everything he's ever wanted, and for that reason he appreciates material things more than other kids his age.

But we're not destitute. He's never gone without food, shelter, or clothing and, most important, love."

"I just—"

"Be quiet and listen to me," she commanded, surprising both of them with her ferocity.

"I love David. He loves me. All you've thought about so far is how this might affect you if it gets out. If it's possible, with your colossal ego in the way think about how it could affect David.

"He's at an impressionable, sensitive stage. He's a wonderful kid. I don't want anything to happen that will upset his wholesome outlook on life.

"And that goes for finding out that his father is a hotshot astronaut who sleeps with a woman only if
he's
protected and who drives like a maniac. If you do or say anything that even hints at harming him, you'll wish you were still in orbit, Colonel Kincaid." She drew in a sharp breath. "Now, will you please take me home?"

Chapter 4

«^
»

T
here were two individuals waiting for Law when he returned home. Both were female.

Both were blond. Both were brown-eyed. One had two legs, the other four. One was angry. One was jubilant.

The four-legged blond, a Labrador retriever named Venus, bounded across the lawn that was kept immaculate by a professional crew Law never saw. They came while he was at work, did the job, and left an invoice in the mailbox. A housekeeper maintained the interior of the house using the same method. His domicile wasn't typical bachelor digs.

Venus nearly knocked him over when she jumped up on her rear legs and began to lick his collarbone because that's as far as she could reach.

"Hey, girl," he said, pushing her down affectionately Bending over, he picked up the evening newspaper and scratched the dog behind the ears. He sailed the rolled-up newspaper across the yard. Obediently Venus loped after it, tongue dangling from the corner of her mouth.

He doubted he could appease the other blonde by scratching her behind the ears and throwing a newspaper for her to fetch. Not for the first time, he wished that all the females in his life were as uncomplicated and easy to get along with as Venus.

"Hi," he said, flashing his most winning smile.

"You're only an hour late," she reported peevishly. "That damned dog nearly ate me alive when I went indoors."

"She's jealous of other women."

He took his mail out of the box and sorted through it. Only one letter caught his eye.

The plain white envelope had been addressed in what had become a familiar script. He slid it into his breast pocket and dropped the rest of the mail on the lacquered hall table as he went through the door.

"Is that all you can say?" Venus bounded in carrying the newspaper. The other blonde pointed at her accusingly. "It nearly shredded my stockings when it took swipes at my legs."

"She was protecting my house against an intruder."

"Intruder? You gave me a door key the combination of your alarm system, and told me to let myself in."

"I did? When?"

"When you made the date for tonight."

"We have a date?"

She was fifteen years his junior, had a so-so face, legs that started in her armpits, and a tanned cleavage that would normally have caused him to salivate with lust. Having her in bed would make him the envy of every guy he knew.

But it had been a lousy day. Pacifying an aggravated blond bimbo was going to require more energy than he was willing to expend.

"You didn't remember that we had a date?" she whined petulantly.

"No."

"We met last week at a party. Lots of astronauts were there."

He didn't remember which party. After so many they began to blur together, like the bimbos. In fact, he didn't remember much of what had happened to him before Marnie had looked up at him with serious, misty eyes and confirmed that, yes, the strapping lad with Law Kincaid's bone structure and Law Kincaid's coloring was Law Kincaid's son.

"Look, uh…?"

"Suzette."

"Suzette, I'm sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I, uh, something came up today at the center and I couldn't get away. We had to do this antigravity thing, see, and I'm bone tired. Let's do this some other night, okay?"

She didn't buy his ingratiating smile or untruthful excuse. "Say, is this a brush-off?"

He studied her sulky red mouth and accusing eyes for a moment, then said, "Say yeah, it is. Where's my key?"

She commissioned him to do something that was an anatomical impossibility and ground the latch key into his hand, almost breaking the skin of his palm with the jagged teeth.

Venus growled and nipped at Suzette's tapping high heels all the way to the front door.

After it was slammed behind her, the dog looked back at him with a complacent expression.

"You jealous bitch. Want a Flavor Snack?"

Venus followed him through the house that a homosexual couple had lived in and decorated before they split up and sold the creative result of their liaison to Law.

He liked the clean modern lines and spacious, uncluttered rooms. Absently he fed the colorful tropical fish in the aquarium that was mounted in the wall dividing the dining room and kitchen.

Taking the envelope from his pocket, he read his latest letter. The threats of exposure were more vitriolic than before. He reread the paragraphs several times and became so steeped in the puzzle of who could have sent them that Venus had to lick his hand to remind him of the promised treat.

He got her a dog biscuit, himself a beer, and slid open the glass door that opened onto the redwood deck. There he shed his clothes and, naked, slid into the hot tub that comprised one end of the Italian tile swimming pool, which was the envy of even his most affluent friends.

He lived on a military salary modest when compared to most young executives. But he had no one to spend money on except himself. He lived well and was willing to splurge extravagantly on creature comforts.

He'd already forgotten the blonde. He couldn't have picked her out of a lineup. His thoughts centered on the boy he had met that afternoon.

"Damn good-looking kid," he told Venus, who was so pleased to be included in his private reverie that she braved dunking her muzzle into the bubbling hot water to lick his shoulder.

Any man would be proud to have a son like David Hibbs … David Kincaid.

He'd been reared right. He treated his mother with respect. Even though he'd been ecstatic over getting to drive the Porsche, he'd remembered to say thank you afterward.

He'd buckled his seat belt without being told to. He drove conscientiously and well.

Law could find little fault with the way Marnie had raised his son.

His son?

Was he ready to admit it?

Until today that summer had been a pleasant but vague memory. What did he really know about Marnie Hibbs and her family? She could be just a damn clever con who assumed that brave-little-soldier demeanor when it served her purpose. She could be just a damn good actress who convincingly pretended to be offended when accused of sending folks threatening letters through the mail.

She certainly stood to gain a lot if he did acknowledge David as his son. Rearing a kid nowadays was expensive. As the only bachelor currently in the astronaut office, he listened to his cohorts lamenting daily on the high cost of teenagers.

Freelancing as an illustrator might be lucrative at times, but it wasn't constant or reliable income. There could be months between sizable commissions. Maybe this Hibbs broad was in an economic slump because of her mother's medical bills and had devised this nefarious plan as a means of getting some quick cash.

But she sure as hell had put him in his place when he'd subtly suggested that money was her motive. She was a tiny package of woman, but when riled she was as hot as a stick of dynamite.

And damned exciting.

Swearing, Law left the hot tub and padded back into the kitchen for another beer. As he sipped it, Venus sitting worshipfully at his dripping feet, he thought about all the ramifications a teenage son would have on his life. The blond bimbos would have to taper off considerably. And when he got assigned to another shuttle mission, who would—

"This is nuts!" he exclaimed to the empty house. "The kid's probably not even mine."

But as he headed for his shower in the master bathroom, he smiled when he recalled how loud and rambunctious and thoroughly delightful David was, and frowned when he recalled kissing the lady David called Mom – frowned because that kiss had been short but explosive. That kiss had nearly blown the top of his head off. That kiss was one reason the blond bimbo hadn't looked at all appealing tonight.

* * *

"G'night, Mom." David stood framed in the doorway. There was a single light burning over Marnie's drawing board where she was doodling trying to come up with an idea for a jewelry store ad.

"Going to bed so early?"

"Coach ran our asses off this afternoon. I'm tired."

She didn't scold his language. Tonight she chose to ignore it because she knew he was using it to test her reaction. Sometimes no reaction was the best one.

"Sleep well. Remember you're supposed to mow the lawn tomorrow."

"Five bucks?"

"Seven if you edge and sweep up too."

"Deal." He didn't leave. He picked at the wood in the doorframe, a sign that he was about to broach a sensitive subject. "What was Law Kincaid really doing here today?"

She fumbled her pencil. It rolled to the floor. "Doing here?" she repeated feebly. "You know why he was here."

"How come you didn't tell me you had called him? I mean, it seems like you would have mentioned it."

"Well, I didn't actually call him. I, uh, called NASA and asked if I could use his face in my drawings. I guess they wanted to check me out before granting permission and sent him personally I was as surprised as you when he showed up here."

She'd never lied to David in his life … unless one counted the hundreds of times he'd asked who his father was. Those had been lies of omission, kind lies meant to protect, not absolute fabrications like the whopper she'd just told.

"Oh. Well, it was great meeting him. Did you think he was cool?" he asked eagerly.

"Very cool."

"I thought he might be stuck-up, but he was just like a real person."

"He
is
a real person."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, I know."

"Do you think he'll remember me, that he'll ever come back?"

Marnie went to him and smoothed back the hair that had fallen over his brow, having to stretch her arm up to reach it. She hated reminders like that of how much he'd grown.

The time had gone by so fast. So fast.

"I doubt we'll ever see him again, David" she said kindly.

Her thoughts filtered back to that hostile drive from the coffee shop to her house, during which nothing had been said. She'd bade Law a curt good-bye at the curb. He hadn't tarried but had angrily peeled out, furious over the dressing-down she'd given him. She didn't regret a single word of it. He'd deserved it for intimating that she was a liar and blackmailer.

"I wouldn't count on ever seeing him again. He's awfully busy and meets a lot of people."

"I know," David said, "but I think he liked me. Wouldn't it be cool if we could, you know, be friends with him?"

Her throat swelled almost shut, but she forced a smile and gave him a long hug. "You'd better get to bed. You need the rest. The big game is only a few days away."

"Noooo problem." As he normally did whenever he exited a room, he jumped up to swat the ceiling, then dashed out.

Marnie listened to his footsteps thudding on the hollow stairs of the old house as he took them two at a time. Instead of smiling fondly as she usually did, she blotted tears from her eyes.

Letters. Anonymous letters. From the day Sharon had told her that she was pregnant with Law Kincaid's baby Marnie had fantasized about how the child might draw him back into her life. In her fantasies it was always for some catastrophic reason like David needing a kidney transplant, or a blood transfusion, never anything as innocuous as a letter.

But Law had entered her life again. And he was larger than life, more heart-stoppingly handsome. The azure blue of his eyes hadn't dimmed, but if anything had become more vivid. His confident smile, the loose-limbed, cocky gait of a jet fighter pilot, the way sunlight shone on his hair, had all been achingly familiar because those images had been locked inside Marnie's heart for seventeen years.

Those images hadn't been dulled by the grief she had suffered since: the loss of her sister and father, and her mother's declining health. Those images of Law had sustained her through her struggle to get a college degree, work at a job, and take care of David all at the same time. Those images had spelled doom for any love relationships with real potential.

The only man she had ever loved now held sway over her life again. For the second time her future rested in his hands. Only now he was aware of it.

She was partially to blame for the anxiety she was experiencing. She could have laughed off the letters' allegations, categorically denied them, and told Law that someone was playing a practical joke on him, no doubt a freeloader who had seen David and noticed the resemblance.

But Marnie's moral code wouldn't have allowed her to take the easy way out. When asked, her conscience had given her no alternative but to tell Law the truth.

Unfortunately how Law responded to that truth could seriously change their lives. If David woke up to the realization that Law was the father he's always been curious about, and Law spurned him, how would David withstand the rejection?

Or if Law decided to acknowledge his son, how could she cope with living without David?

He had been the only fine, positive element in her life. Law had given him to her. Law could now take him away.

Marnie looked down at the hand she'd spilled coffee on. The redness was fading, but there were still traces of butter shining on her skin. Closing her eyes, she recalled the feel of his fingertips gently stroking her hand. Involuntarily she groaned.

She loved Law Kincaid with an unrequited passion that made her ache. She loved his son with equal intensity Law had never been hers. And as of today she was at risk of losing David.