Forgotten Father (22 page)

“I can’t marry you,” she said again, the words soft
and grieving.

He leaned back in his chair, saying coolly, “Why
not? We have great sex and several other…mutual interests.”

He had to be in his child’s life and their marriage
was the best way to accomplish this goal.

Lengthy custody battles scarred children. Beautiful,
sweet Jenna wouldn’t have to deal with the trauma of her parents
fighting over her. He’d make sure of it.

Delanie’s gaze fell. “Yes, we do have wonderful sex.
I never knew lovemaking could be as beautiful.”

The surge of satisfaction brought by her words
couldn’t be denied. Mitchell tried to ignore the sensation and
waited for her next move.

“But I still can’t marry you,” she said. “I remember
the things you said to me that morning after we first met—accusing
me of being your grandfather’s mistress. Of sleeping with him so I
could get money out of him. I also remember what you said about
your father and mother and women who marry for money. You’re
confused about love and money. If I married you now, you’d never
really be sure of anything between us.”

“There are no guarantees in any relationship,” he
said roughly. “If I’m willing to take the risk, why shouldn’t
you?”

“We’re talking about different risks,” she said. “I
love you, Mitchell, and I need you to believe that, regardless of
what happened between your mother and father. Regardless of
Donovan, who I never slept with.”

Glancing down, he battled a surge of emotion he
could only identify as longing. It had no place here. He knew that,
yet he wanted fiercely to believe her. Even when he knew the
stupidity of it.

In a recalcitrant flash, his memory supplied a
picture of Delanie bringing him that silly birthday cake lit with
fifty-seven candles.

“You love me,” he said slowly, “and that’s why you
can’t marry me?”

She nodded. “I wanted to talk with you here in this
room because everything between us comes back to Donovan and your
belief that I was his mistress, sleeping with him because of his
money.”

“Forget Donovan,” Mitchell told her, his tone raw.
“We can’t live in the past.”

Delanie’s short laugh echoed the regret in her eyes.
“I certainly can’t live with the past you’ve convicted me of.”

It was all slipping away from him, Mitchell thought
angrily, hopelessly. Somehow he had to make this work.

“What do you want from me?”

She paused, as if trying to find a way to answer his
rough demand.

“I want you to believe in me. Completely. But I know
that’s asking too much of you.”

He looked at her, unable to come up with anything to
say.

“I don’t know why your grandfather left me half this
place,” she said. “I’ve often wished he’d told me why. Left a
letter or something to explain himself, but he didn’t. So, we’re
stuck with this legacy of mistrust and doubt.”

Mitchell thought about Jenna, the golden-haired
child who was most likely his own. When did she come into this
horrible negotiation? At what point, would Delanie play her trump
card?

“I won’t marry you,” she said, pushing the small
jeweler’s box toward him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pocketing the ring while his
thoughts scurried around in his brain. He couldn’t let this deal go
south. Maybe getting The Cedars in his sole possession wasn’t
vital, but seeing his child every day, doing what was best for
Jenna, that’s what he had to manage.

And Delanie. It might be incredibly stupid of him,
he needed her in his life.

She got up from the desk chair and walked over to
the window.

“I talked with an attorney this morning.”

Mitchell stiffened involuntarily. About the baby?
Was Delanie playing her trump card even now? Demanding an
exorbitant child support, perhaps even claiming the bulk of
Donovan’s estate for the child?

Watching her fidget with the curtain, he waited,
tensed for the blow he knew he couldn’t defend. Whether his
grandfather’s child or his own, Jenna did have some claims.

As her mother, Delanie could write her own
ticket.

“I’m deeding my half of The Cedars over to you,” she
said, the words abrupt. “Unconditionally.”

“What?” He straightened in the chair, doubting his
ears.

Delanie faced him squarely, her face both determined
and sad.

“I love you, not the money,” she said, enunciating
the words carefully. “I met you and loved you immediately—“

Her words broke off. She drew a breath and started
again. “I thought I loved you. But it wasn’t real at first, because
I didn’t really
know
you. Still, I met you and, yes, I knew
your identity from the first, but it didn’t matter—“

“Wait a minute,” he said, confused. “You’re
deeding
me your half of The Cedars. Just like that?”

“Yes,” she said. “The property means nothing to me
in itself. Donovan loved this place and I love its beauty and
history, but I can’t stay here with you thinking I’ve stolen it
from you.”

Mitchell stared at her, absorbing the passionate
tone in her voice, the unmistakable sincerity in her eyes.

God, could he have been wrong about her?

“Are you serious?” he demanded, his heart racing
into overdrive.

“Yes,” she said more calmly. “I won’t marry you and
I’m giving up my half ownership of The Cedars.”

“What about Jenna?” he asked, the muscles in his
throat tense as his brain struggled to comprehend the sudden and
complete up-ending of all his beliefs.

“She’s your child.”

“My child,” he said softly, caught up in the magic
of those two words.

“I’ll do whatever you need for proof of paternity,”
she said, apparently expecting doubt from him. “But I’m not
accepting more than standard child support from you. If you want to
do more, put it in an account for her college fund.”

Mitchell could only look at her, his mind and every
thought in it, suspended. She’d only accept limited child support?
Whoever heard of such a thing?

“If you want visitation, we can work that out.”
Delanie hesitated. “I want her to know you, but I’m not letting her
get lost in your crazy lifestyle. She’s going to have a normal
life, not some privileged, paranoid existence where everything is
about money.”

He looked at her, dazed, his brain scrambling to
comprehend.

“I’m sorry for you, Mitchell. You’ve been warped by
the money and your father’s bitterness. I won’t let you do that to
Jenna. I won’t let her grow up cold and afraid like you.”

Delanie picked up her blazer from the desk chair and
turned as if to go, saying sadly, “It took me awhile to come to
know you, Mitchell, but you’ve never even begun to know me.”

Turning then, she left, shutting the door quietly
behind her.

He stared at the paneled door through which she’d
disappeared, shock reverberating through him. Every thing he knew
to be true seemed called into question by the last half hour. Every
precept and principle of his life lie cluttered on the floor around
him in ruins.

God.

She was giving up everything.

Marriage to him with its accompanying lifestyle. The
Cedars. Hell, she was even forgoing the hefty child support that
any judge in his right mind would have granted her. And to top it
off, she wasn’t fighting him having access to Jenna.

Mitchell sank down into the chair, struggling to get
his mind around how completely wrong he’d been about her.

From the beginning.

If she wasn’t after his money—Donovan’s money—then,
he’d completely misjudged her from that first morning.

Lifting a hand, he rubbed the aching spot between
his brows. He’d talked so badly to her, said such ugly things.

Delanie, who wasn’t an avaricious woman, hadn’t
slept with him because of his wealth. In fact, she’d been drawn to
him for the same reason he’d gone to her.

She must have felt something for him then. And now,
now that he’d behaved so viciously toward her, she was leaving
him.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter than he’d seen no proof
of what she said, no deed papers from her attorney, no further
report from his investigators. He had no question as he sat here
that those things would be forthcoming.

Staring blindly across his grandfather’s desk, he
knew it was time to let go of his father’s fears. To disconnect
from the wounds of his own youth. What Delanie had said about his
father, about his beliefs and fears about women wanting him for his
money being self-fulfilling—she was right.

It was too late for his father, but not for him.
Mitchell straightened in his chair. He knew what he wanted, had
known for some time and shunned the knowledge for weeks now. He
loved her. Loved Delanie like he’d never loved another human
being.

Even his plan to get access to Jenna and retrieve
The Cedars had really be motivated by his consuming need to have
Delanie in his life permanently.

One way or the other, he had to convince her that
he’d learned his lesson. He had to beg her to marry him—no strings,
no holding back.

Because suddenly he knew he couldn’t live without
her.

Couldn’t face his life without her in it. Somehow he
had to convince her he had a heart, after all.

******

Delanie ignored the headache nagging at the base of
her skull and tried to focus on what Connie was saying about the
Vandiver job.

Most of the time, she knew she’d done the right
thing in turning down Mitchell’s marriage proposal. But there were
moments—hours—when regret and doubt ate at her. Still, they’d been
back in Boston for nearly a week now and she had to get herself
together. She had people counting on her.

“So Mrs. Vandiver likes the green, but Mr. Vandiver
wants the beige,” Connie finished, exasperated but keeping her
voice low to avoid disturbing the couple looking at lamps in the
corner of the shop. “I think you need to talk to them. They need
high level finessing.”

“Of course,” Delanie agreed mechanically. “I’ll be
able to go by and see them after I meet with the historical society
committee about the Burlington house—“

The bell at the shop door clattered, announcing a
customer’s entry.

Drawn by the sound, Delanie turned, her automatic
speech of welcome drying on her lips.

The doorway was filled with balloons. A huge,
multicolored bouquet of balloons were being pushed through the
opening. As the bright orbs popped into the shop, the man holding
them came into view.

Mitchell stood inside the door, his dark hair
tousled, a clutch of balloon-tethered ribbons in one hand. In spite
of everything, Delanie’s heart contracted at the sight of him. His
face looked haggard, but the expression in his blue eyes was
determined.

It was then she noticed the cake. Balanced in his
other hand, held away from the balloons, it blazed with the light
of a hundred candles.

What the heck was going on?

Beside her, Connie gasped.

Mitchell walked further into the shop, dragging the
huge bouquet of balloons while balancing the burning cake.

“Hello” he said, his gaze searching her face. “I
have a celebration that needs sharing.”

“You do?” she said faintly.

“Yes,” he said, handing the balloon bouquet to
Connie. “Would you hold these?”

“Sure,” her assistant said, a grin on her face.

Mitchell put the flaming cake down on Connie’s
littered desk and reached into his pocket. “I have something here
that needs to be disposed of.”

“What?” Delanie asked, still shaken by his sudden
appearance.

He smiled, holding a legal looking document over the
cake so that the candles lit the paper. “The deed you sent me
giving me your half of The Cedars.”

Delanie stared at him in shock as he held the
burning papers by one corner before lowering them into the metal
trash can beside the desk.

“I’ve been a fool,” he said, dropping to his knees
in front of her. “Please forgive me. I was wrong about you from the
beginning. I’m an idiot and a fool and I need you in my life. I
need help celebrating. I need to hold you every night and tell you
you’re not responsible for the world. I need for us to be a family
with Jenna. Please, please marry me.”

Aware on some vague peripheral level of the other
customers in the shop and Connie standing there grinning like a
fool, still holding the balloons, Delanie couldn’t break away from
the burning intensity in Mitchell’s eyes.

“You love me?” she echoed stupidly

“Yes. Please marry me.” Reaching into his pocket, he
took out the ring he’d given her before. “I love you more than
life, more than all my money. Marry me. No prenuptial. No
doubts.”

“I don’t understand,” she said breathlessly, her
heart pounding in her ears. “What about the money?”

“I’ve been an idiot,” he said in no uncertain tones.
“I love you like I’ve never loved a woman. And I trust you. I
realized when you gave up The Cedars that I’ve been a fool. Wrong
about you from day one. Marry me.”

“Without a prenup?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” he said. “Marry me and let me trust you.”

With a sob of joy, Delanie drew him to his feet and
threw her arms around him.

His kiss rough with emotion, he whispered, “I love
you so much.”

Tears clouding her eyes, Delanie wrapped her arms
around him, pressing her face to his chest.

“I love you more than you can know,” she said, her
voice clogged with tears.

“Be with me always,” he said softly into her ear.
“Help me celebrate every day. You’re like the sunlight. Everything
in my world is better when you’re there.”

“Yes,” she sobbed joyfully. “Yes, I’ll marry
you.”

In a sudden tilting of the world, she’d come full
circle in his arms. Her prince. Her Galahad.

The only man she’d ever love.