Debra Webb - In His Touch Box Set (Here To Stay, Up Close, Tempting Trace, Basic Instincts) (17 page)

His disapproving gaze swept over her. Paige knew she looked a mess. Worn jeans and T-shirt hastily pulled on. Nathan’s scent sill lingered on her skin.

“Please sit down, Paige,” her father issued the command softly, but firmly nonetheless.

“I think I’ll stand,” she replied without flinching. She wouldn’t feel quite so vulnerable standing.

“Fine,” he acquiesced. He studied her for a long while before he began. “Would you care to explain to me what fascination Trinity has held for you the past few days?”

“Actually, no.”

“I believe I have the right to an explanation, especially since I arrived this morning to find your son in Beatrice’s care.”

Ever the lawyer, Paige mused. “Jesse is his name and he’s
your
grandson,” she stated defiantly.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t consider that fact.”

“It’s nice to know you think of us often, Father.” Paige pasted a smile across her lips. How could he be so cold?

She took a deep, steadying breath. She wouldn’t lose it, because that’s what he wanted. She had his number. Paige held her tongue.

“You are my daughter. Of course I think of you often. Especially since...” His voice trailed off. He straightened in his luxurious chair, “And, as you say, Jesse is my grandson. How could I not think of him?”

“If it were only that simple with you,” she said ruefully.

“Since you have no intention of telling me why you went to Trinity, why don’t I hazard a guess?”

“Uncle Robert is on his honeymoon. I went to oversee the renovations in his house,” Paige told him in a tone just a degree short of scathing.

“Beatrice has already provided that cover story.”

“Cover story?” Paige was a grown woman, thirty years old. She didn’t have to answer to him. “Do I have to remind you that I’m well past the age of needing your consent?”

“I know how old you are. Even if you don’t act it.”

“This conversation is over, Father,” Paige retorted. Enough was enough. She didn’t have to stand here and take this. Why did she? Because he was her father and Paige wanted to give him every opportunity to change his mind.

Elliott stood, rage blazing in his blue eyes. “I know why you went to Trinity, Paige.” He rounded his desk and moved closer to her. He shook his aristocratic head in disgust. “Didn’t you learn your lesson five years ago? Nathan Blackrope is no good. He wouldn’t have anything if Amos Collins hadn’t been foolish enough to marry his mother.”

“I won’t listen to this,” Paige said through clenched teeth.

“He’s nothing. A parasite living on the misguided good intentions of a wealthy man. I can’t believe you would lower yourself by crawling back to him. I raised you better than that. Your uncle filled your head with ridiculous notions all those years. I should never have allowed you to spend one summer with Robert.”

“Stop it!” Paige shouted. “You’re wrong. Why can’t you see how wrong you are? Are you that blind?” Her entire body shook with rage. How could this man be her father?

“You’ve thrown your whole life away over that damned man,” he bellowed. “I’ll treat the child fairly since Weston blood runs through his veins, but if you insist on cavorting with the likes of Nathan Blackrope, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Disown me? Disinherit me?” Paige spat vehemently. “Take your pick. I stopped caring long ago.”

“This has gone on too long, Paige,” he shouted. “You’re my daughter and I’m entitled to your respect. I will not have you ignore me or my wishes!”

“Respect is something you earn, Father. You don’t own me.” Paige shook her head. “I’m not a piece of property.”

“You’re my daughter, Paige. I won’t lose you over the likes of Nathan Blackrope.”

Beatrice burst into the room. “I can hear you two shouting clear in the kitchen. And so can Jesse.”

Paige’s heart twisted with pain at the thought of her son hearing this exchange. Episodes like this were the reason she had stopped seeing her father more than a year ago.

~*~

Nathan parked his truck next to Paige’s car. He had dropped Calvin off at his grandmother’s house first. The kid’s last words to him echoed in his head, “She loves you, Chief. Don’t let her get away.” He tried to tell himself that Calvin was right, but something kept eating at his insides. Something he saw in Paige’s eyes each time he looked at her. It was more than her revelation about the cancer and not being able to have children. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. En route Calvin had gotten a call from his grandmother, she was the Beatrice who’d called Paige. Whatever the woman had called about, it had gone down at Paige’s father’s house.

He took a long look at Elliott Weston’s home. His stomach tied itself in knots when he considered the possibility of coming face-to-face with that man again. Paige had said her daddy was away on business. If Nathan were lucky, maybe he hadn’t returned yet. All he wanted to do was see Paige and find out about this Jesse guy.

With a heavy exhale, he emerged from his truck. He slipped on his Stetson and strode to the Westons’ front door. He stared at the intricately designed wood and glass that stood between him and uncertainty. Nathan shook off the hate-filled memories of Paige’s daddy and pressed the doorbell.

A formally attired man of at least sixty opened the door and greeted Nathan. “May I help you, sir?”

“I’m here to see Paige,” Nathan told him hesitantly. A butler, he realized. Nathan almost laughed in spite of the tension he felt. Hell, he thought those guys were extinct.

“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s not available at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?”

Neither the man’s tone of voice nor his facial expression varied the slightest when he spoke. Nathan smiled. “I’ll wait.” He allowed his voice to convey his level of determination. He would not leave until he had seen Paige.

“I see,” the man noted. “And whom shall I say is calling?”

“Nathan Blackrope.” He tightened his jaw against the other words that wanted to tumble out. If Paige’s daddy was home, he would soon know without having to ask.

“Come in, sir.” The man allowed Nathan into the long hall. “I’ll inform Miss Weston of your arrival as soon as possible.”

Nathan removed his hat and thanked him. The man turned and walked down the long hall, an air of dignity in his step. Nathan shook his head. A butler. As if Elliott Weston couldn’t answer his own door.

He surveyed the ritzy digs. So this is how Paige had grown up. No wonder she loved her summers in Trinity so much. This joint was no place for a kid. It reminded Nathan more of a fancy funeral parlor or maybe a museum.

Heated voices caught Nathan’s ear. He listened. One belonged to Paige. The other he knew to be Elliott Weston’s. Nathan’s skin crawled at the sound. He set his jaw harder and willed the anger to retreat. He hadn’t come to make a fool of himself. No matter how Elliott provoked him, he would stay calm for Paige’s sake.

“Hello.”

Nathan snapped his head around and then dropped his gaze to find the source of the voice. His eyes came to rest on a child and his heart stopped beating.
A boy
. Black hair and eyes... dark skin. Nathan’s head spun and his pulse pounded in his ears. He blocked out all other stimuli and focused completely on the boy.

“My name’s Jesse.” The child stepped closer and smiled up at Nathan. “What’s your name?”

Nathan sank to his knees. Partly to get a closer look at the boy and partly because his legs would no longer hold his weight. His gaze moved slowly over the child, taking in blue jeans and a Spiderman T-shirt.
Jesse
. He had said his name was Jesse. Nathan tried to keep his voice calm.

“Nice to meet you, Jesse,” he managed to choke out and extend a shaky hand. “I’m Nathan.”

The little boy latched onto his hand and shook it hard. His toothy grin widened. Nathan’s heart lurched at the child’s touch. Jesse suddenly dropped Nathan’s hand and reached for a long strand of black hair.

“You Indian, like me,” Jesse noted innocently.

Nathan nodded, unable to speak.
This couldn’t be
.

“I go to preschool,” Jesse said, reaching down to touch the hat Nathan held. “Frankie said I was a Indian. I’m four years old now. Soon I’ll go to big-kid school.” He took Nathan’s hat and set it on his head and then pushed it up so he could see.

Nathan swallowed hard and set his gaze on the child’s angelic face. “When’s your birthday, Jesse?” Nathan held his breath as he waited for the answer.
This just couldn’t be
.

“I already had my birthday. It was March,” he said happily, adjusting the large hat on his head once more.

Nathan quickly calculated the time between the day of his mother’s funeral and Jesse’s birth month four years ago. Nine months. The room whirled around him. His head pounded. His unsteady gaze locked on the little boy wearing his hat.

Jesse was his son.
His son
. How could Paige have kept this from him? There had to be some explanation...

Angry voices sounded again from down the hall, louder this time. Nathan jerked his gaze in that direction.

“They’re fighting. Mommy and Grandfather always fight,” Jesse said sadly.

Nathan felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hold him, but he didn’t dare for fear of scaring the child.
His child
. A child that looked exactly like him. Exactly. Nathan closed his eyes to slow the spinning. How could Paige have done this to him? Nathan had been wrong. Calvin had been wrong. Paige didn’t love him. She hated him. The proof stood right before his very eyes. Otherwise she would never have done something like this to him. Rage and pain boiled inside him, vying for possession of his senses. Nathan opened his eyes and looked at his son.
His son
.

~*~

“I’m leaving now.” Paige spun away from her father’s angry glare. She stormed out of his study, followed by Beatrice.

“Miss Paige,” Raymond said, then cleared his throat, “you have a visitor.”

“What?” she asked, slowing momentarily to glance at Raymond. “Who?” Frustrated and knowing that her father would follow at any moment, Paige didn’t wait for Raymond’s response, but continued down the hall.

“Nathan Blackrope,” Raymond called behind her.

Paige stopped dead in her tracks. Her shocked gaze moved from Raymond, to Nathan who stood by the front door and then dropped to Jesse who smiled happily up at Nathan.

“What are you doing here?” she breathed, her words barely audible in the ensuing silence.

The look she saw in Nathan’s eyes at that moment ripped her heat to shreds. “Getting to know Jesse,” he said icily.

“Mommy, Nathan said I could have his hat.” Jesse ran to her, displaying the black Stetson. “It’s really cool. Look.” He perched the hat atop his sweet head.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” Paige smiled at her son. She struggled to hold back the tears mounting in her eyes. “Beatrice”—Paige turned to the woman at her side wringing her hands—”please take Jesse out back for a few minutes.”

Beatrice grasped Jesse’s hand and urged him toward her. “Come along, Jesse, we’ll go into the garden and show your new hat to Ms. Julia. And maybe she’ll let us help plant petunias.”

“Bye, Nathan,” Jesse shouted as he was rushed away.

“So long, Jesse,” Nathan called after him. His gaze followed Jesse’s departure until he was completely out of sight.

Nathan finally faced Paige when Jesse moved out of earshot. She steeled herself for what she knew would come next. What she had done was unforgivable. She had to face his wrath now... and quite possibly his hatred.

He shook his head slowly. “How could you do this?”

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” Paige murmured, her heart cracking with each word.

“You’re sorry?” he roared. “You kept my son...” Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists at his sides. When he opened his eyes again Paige saw the one thing she had prayed she wouldn’t—hatred.

“I wish it hadn’t happened this way. I wanted to explain about Jesse... I’m so sorry.” She saw the shudder that swept over him... saw the way he worked to hold onto control.
Dear God, what had she done
?

“You kept my son from me for more than four years and all you can do is say you’re sorry?”

“Nathan, you married someone else before I even knew I was pregnant.” Panic overwhelmed her now. She couldn’t think straight. Everything was going wrong. “When I found out, I couldn’t tell you and risk breaking up your marriage. And then”—she dropped her gaze to the floor—”everything got out of control. My father—”

“I don’t give a damn about your father.” He raked a hand through his hair and shifted with agitation, his shock quickly turning to rage. “I can’t believe you did this. You’re worse than your father!” he added, his words like acid on her skin.

“That’s enough,” Elliott Weston commanded from somewhere behind Paige. “I will not allow you to stand in my house and speak to my daughter in that manner. The only reason I haven’t already called the police is because I don’t want to turn this ridiculous scene into a public spectacle.”

“Father, please. This is between me and Nathan,” Paige appealed as Elliott moved to her side. Her heart felt ready to burst from her chest and her head verged on exploding. The last thing she needed was a showdown between Nathan and her father.

“Don’t bother with him, Paige,” her father replied haughtily. “Why waste your time? The man obviously has no feelings for you. What did you expect from someone like him?” He turned his hateful glare on Nathan. “Can’t you see that she’s been through enough?”

Paige’s gaze collided with Nathan’s. She saw the danger in his eyes. Her father was pushing too hard, treading on perilously thin ice.

“Nathan, maybe we can talk somewhere else,” she offered anxiously. Somehow she had to get him away from her father.

“I have nothing else to say to you,” he said coldly.

“You see. He doesn’t care about you. The man has no right to even be here.” He turned his attention to Nathan. “Leave right now, Mr. Blackrope, before I call the police and have you escorted out of Memphis.”

“But—” Paige started.

“You’re right,” Nathan interrupted in a low, ominous voice. “I have no right to be here.”