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Authors: Tina Beckett

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BOOK: A Daddy for Her Daughter
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Maddy laughed. Partly at the audacity of the question and partly at the irony of her answer. Not that he would see her in her black leotard. In another life, this might have ended differently. Parts of her were warming up, and she'd love nothing better than to explore a quick no-strings dalliance with a man who was too handsome for his own good. And for hers.

“They wear a catsuit. What else?”

“What else, indeed.” He twirled a strand of her hair one last time, before leaning in and kissing her cheek. “I'll see myself out, Madeleine Grimes. But I would like a rain check for that coffee.”

“Okay.” She waited for what seemed like forever before she heard her front door click softly shut. And then she sank to the floor a shaking mass of fear, relief...and disappointment.

CHAPTER TWO

W
HAT
WAS
HE
doing here?

He wasn't sure. Respiratory Therapy was two floors above where his office was located. Part of his job was in the hospital itself, but he had to be ready to leave for the luxury hotel across the street at a second's notice. Or one of its sister hotels, which were sprinkled around the city.

The hospital had partnered with the swanky investment group, and, honestly, it suited him perfectly. He'd never liked being trapped in the sterile confines of a hospital. Too many bad memories. When his life had taken a turn for the worse, Kaleb had had to endure the pitying glances of colleagues and nursing staff until the bitter end, when his wife—also a nurse—had had an affair with another doctor. It had been the final tragic straw in a marriage that had been spiraling downhill.

So why was he walking across the floor to see a woman who had caught his attention in the strangest of ways? Maybe because he didn't quite believe the surreal experience had actually happened. And because the image of the woman lounging around in something akin to a slinky black wet suit had haunted his dreams for the past two nights. And then her mention of a catsuit. He'd had to look up what that was. And while he was pretty sure some of the images hadn't been what Madeleine meant by the term, he would have loved to have been there when she stripped herself down to it.

He was here to assure himself that the Madeleine he was acquainted with was indeed the cool, aloof woman he'd known before that asthma attack. And to make sure she really was okay. She'd acted shaken the whole time he'd been in her apartment, and if her sister hadn't been on her way home, he might have insisted she get checked out.

Arriving in front of the door of her office, he hesitated, wondering if he should turn around and head back to the safety of his own corner of the hospital. But he was here now. And if he left now, the nurse he'd asked about her whereabouts was bound to ask Madeleine if he'd found her.

And then she—and the other nurse—would wonder why he'd left without seeing her. Better to just go through with it.

He knocked.

“Yes? Come in.” The soft voice from two nights ago was now infused with a crispness that Kaleb definitely recognized from other chance meetings, where she'd given him a clipped “hello” that had been anything but friendly.

Even then, though, their interactions had intrigued him. She'd been indifferent to his presence, no sign of the half invitations he'd got from a few of the other single women in the hospital. Curiosity had had him trying to break through that reserve whenever he saw her. But he'd never glimpsed the slightest chink in her armor.

Until her asthma attack.

He opened the door and stepped through it. She wasn't with a patient. Instead she sat at a desk with two simple chairs in front of it. The work surface was surprisingly devoid of any clutter, as was the room itself, giving off an almost austere vibe. Her fingers rested on the keyboard of a laptop, and a framed picture, its back turned to him, sat on the right-hand corner.

If he were smart, he'd toss a quick question about her health and leave. But he didn't. And the slight widening of her eyes as she looked up told him that he was the last person she'd expected to see that morning.

They were even, then. Because she'd been the last person he'd expected to see beneath that cat costume at the convention.

“Did your sister make it to your place okay the other night?”

Her eyes shifted from his before coming back again. “Oh...um, yes, thank you. I appreciated your help at the hotel.”

“Just doing my job.”

And had he just been doing his job when he'd driven her home and installed himself on her couch with her cat? Hell, no. He'd wanted to be there.

He'd wanted to stay, actually. Which was crazy.

“Of course you were. But I'm still glad you happened to be there.”

Damn. He'd sounded like an ass without meaning to. “I came by to make sure you're okay. No lasting problems from the asthma attack?”

“None.” She smiled, and a slight warmth infused it. “I'm a pulmonologist. I've given myself the all clear to return to work.”

He smiled back. “Is that why you went into pulmonary medicine? Your asthma?”

“No.” She hesitated. “That was because of my younger sister. She had cystic fibrosis. She died two years ago.”

His insides tightened at the sadness in her eyes.

Kaleb wasn't the only one who'd known loss—who'd had someone special succumb to disease. No one ever expected it to happen to them, though. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. We miss her terribly, but we were so lucky to have had her with us as long as we did. Patricia was sweet and funny, and we loved her very much.” Her hands clasped on her desk. “Roxy and I were both tested to see if we're carriers of the disease. Thank God we're not.”

Carriers. Pain wrenched through his gut.

At least she and Roxy had lucked out.

Maddy reached for the picture and angled it a little more toward her. A photo of her dead sister?

Trying to erase the whole subject of genetic testing from his head, he threw out the first question that came to mind. “Are your parents still living?”

She motioned to one of the chairs. “My mom is. My dad died in a tractor accident on their farm in Nebraska a few years ago.”

“I'm sorry again. Is your mom still working the farm?”

“She has people who do that for her.” She turned around and retrieved a carafe on the credenza behind her desk. “I can finally offer you that cup of coffee, if you still want one?”

If she was offering, she must not be in too much of a hurry to get rid of him. He rounded one of the chairs and settled into it, not quite sure why he was in such a hurry to stay. “Only if you're having a cup as well.”

“I am.” Standing, she poured coffee into two plain white mugs and handed him one. “It should still be hot. As for the sweet...” She pushed a sugar bowl across the desk.

So she remembered his words. He hadn't been himself that night. Then again, he hadn't been in a beautiful woman's home in quite a while either. His encounters tended to happen at hotels or at his place. The leaving was too awkward otherwise. His instinct was to make his exit as soon as the act was over. And that didn't pose as much of a problem when it was at his apartment. Maybe because it was his territory and there was no need to try to choose a time frame. He left that up to the woman. As long as she left. So far, it hadn't been an issue. The women he chose to spend time with were just as anxious to keep things simple and fluid. It was easier that way for both of them.

He spooned a teaspoon of sugar into his cup and stirred it, ignoring the familiar pang that occurred whenever he thought too much about the past. About his part in the failure of his marriage.

“What about you?” she asked. “Any siblings?”

“Nope. I'm an only child.” He smiled. “And my parents are both alive and live here in Seattle.” No need to tell her about Grace. Or Janice. Or the divorce. Theirs had been a fairy-tale wedding—without the fairy-tale ending.

Madeleine touched the picture frame again. Maybe it was just a nervous habit. Or a way to ease the discomfort of having him in her office.

But why would it make her uncomfortable?

She hadn't completely gone back to the stiff demeanor she'd adopted every time he'd seen her in the past. She still seemed incredibly warm, including the deep red curls, which were now very much loose and free around her head and neck. He remembered twining one around his finger two nights ago in her kitchen, just as his eyes had dropped to her lips. Thank goodness she'd read her text or he would have kissed her right then and there. To hell with knowing who she was. She'd been affected as well. He'd seen it in the dilation of her pupils as he'd stepped closer. If not for her sister, the night might have ended very differently.

Thank goodness for small miracles. He took a bracing sip of his coffee, watching her. “Are you going to the staff meeting?”

She glanced at her watch and then blinked. “I didn't realize it was almost that time. Yes, I'm going. They're discussing budgets and I want to make sure my department is covered.” She took a drink of her own brew. He noticed she took it black. The coffee was dark and strong, just how he liked it.

“Mind if I go down with you? My budget doesn't work quite the same way as the other departments, but I still like to make sure I know what's going on.”

“That's right. You do concierge medicine.”

Surely she already knew that. Because he sure as hell had already known what department she worked in the second that cat head had come off.

Why would he think she knew anything about him? Was it a hit to his ego that someone might not know who he was? Maybe he should find out.

“Did you know it was me in that hotel lobby, Madeleine?” He took another deep pull on his coffee.

“It's Maddy.” Her glance flitted away, her cheeks turning pink. “And, yes, of course I recognized you.”

Maddy. It fit her. Then again, so did her full name. It was as if she had more than one personality wrapped up in that cute little body. He sat back and crossed his foot over his knee. He also liked that she wanted him to use the shortened version of her name, although he had no idea why.

And why had she blushed? Maybe she hadn't liked being caught in a vulnerable moment, like during her asthma attack. Who could blame her? He wouldn't have cared for being in that position either. “Does Roxy have asthma as well?”

“No. She's as strong as an ox. Healthwise, anyway.” Madeleine said it with a twist to her mouth that made him wonder. Did she consider herself lacking in that area?

There were still things about her that intrigued him.

Just then there was some kind of commotion in the hallway. A patient emergency?

He set his coffee down and started to get up when something hit the door to Maddy's office, causing it to shudder.

“Hey, wait! You can't go in there.”

Kaleb was on his feet in an instant, heading to the door. Someone—a man—stood right outside, looking behind him at whoever had yelled. Kaleb flipped the lock, just as the doorknob twisted from the outside. His senses went on high alert.

“I said stop!”

“What is it?” Maddy stood, gripping the wooden surface of her desk with both hands.

“Call Security. Now.”

Her face turned white, but she picked up her cell phone and pressed the keys.

Kaleb turned back to the door, just as the man planted a hand on either side of the small rectangular window. Something glinted in one of those hands.

Things moved in slow motion. Maddy's voice asking someone to send help. The man staring into the office. Crazed eyes zeroing in on Kaleb and then something behind him. Kaleb's head swiveled to look and found Maddy. The phone fell from her fingers onto the desk, her face filled with fear.

And recognition.

* * *

“Oh, my God! Matthew!”

Maddy couldn't believe what she was seeing, even as her ex-husband's mouth tightened into a straight line.

“Open this goddamn door, Madeleine!” The rage in his voice made her take a quick step back. Her calf caught the chair behind her and she stumbled, falling into the seat.

Matthew raised his hand, pointing something—
oh, God, a gun!
—and then she was hit with a force that felt like a truck, knocking her sideways out of the chair. Every bit of breath left her body as she slammed to the ground. The glass in Chloe's picture frame shattered into a thousand pieces as it landed beside her.

Pressure against her chest made it hard to breathe and impossible to move. It took her a second to realize it wasn't from taking a hit from a bullet, but from the man who was on top of her, his body over hers as he kept her pinned down behind her desk.

Matthew was here. In the hospital. And he had a gun.

Chloe!
Where was Chloe?

She struggled against Kaleb's weight, needing to get up.

Her phone! It was about ten feet away from the desk. She scrabbled for it, trying to turn sideways so she could drag herself toward it.

“Kaleb, oh, God, please, get off me!” The need to get to her daughter and make sure her ex-husband hadn't somehow found her gave her almost superhuman strength.

“Wait. Just wait.” He pinned her wrists and held her down, even as she wrenched against him with all her strength.

A loud bang sounded and the glass in her office door sprayed everywhere, stinging her cheek, the noise a thousand times louder than the glass in the picture frame had been.

The muted shouts she'd heard earlier amplified, becoming horrifyingly real.

Matthew was trying to get into her office. Screaming obscenities, demanding she open the door.

A second or two later, a sharp report reverberated the air around her, the echo seeming to go on forever.

Kaleb stiffened.

Had he been hit?

Then it stopped. All of it. Matthew's voice was silent, although she heard screaming and crying in the distance. She lay there, still struggling to breathe, a familiar band tightening across her lungs. She tried to say something to Kaleb, to ask him if he was okay, but the words came out as a strangled cough.

She tried again. Another hoarse cough.

Not now. Oh, please, not now.

Kaleb lifted off her—very much alive—but she was too involved in her current struggle to breathe to let him know how glad she was.

“Stay here.”

No. She had to get to Chloe. As Kaleb went to the door, she crawled toward her phone, sucking down what little air she could as she went.

She turned the phone over. Broken. The cracked screen was dark and empty. Panicked tears formed, and she tried to get up, but she still couldn't catch her breath.

BOOK: A Daddy for Her Daughter
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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