Just a Little Misgiving (Shades of Deception, Book 3) (11 page)

BOOK: Just a Little Misgiving (Shades of Deception, Book 3)
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Larry and Carol, I'd like you to meet my... my... sister-in-law? The woman who's carrying my baby? No, wait a minute.... This is Faith. You'll notice she's expecting, and I'm proud to say it's mine, but please disregard the fact we're not even engaged. And I'm sure good manners will dictate you won't mention how shocked you are since my loss is still recent.

Good manners, bull, Myles thought. They'd be curious, if not inquisitively rude.

"Myles?" Faith said when he continued to stare grimly at the entrance. "What's wrong?"

"Just getting a grip."

A sleek limo passed them with a short honk. The valet opened the door, and a silver-haired woman draped in mink and diamonds accepted his hand. A balding gentleman in a dinner jacket with a cigar between his teeth emerged on her heels.

"Larry and Carol," Myles muttered. "Why couldn't they be late as usual?"

"You don't sound too happy they're here. Are you worried about something?"

No, Faith. Nothing like that. I'm just trying to come to terms with how the devil we're going to handle this whole situation tonight. I've been so wrapped up with how I'm going to ask you to marry me, I didn't think ahead. Not to mention that my plans are getting more botched by the minute, and there's next to no time to salvage this crazy mess I don't understand any more than I understand when I started failing in love with you.

"Look," he said, sighing, while the other couple signaled in their direction. "I don't know what I said or did or how we ended up getting into an argument. Whatever it was, I'm sorry. I'll try to make it up to you, but you're going to have to level with me. It takes two to make things work and figure out what went wrong. Whether what we've got is only for a night"—he took a deep breath—"or a lifetime, I don't want to waste it with petty misunderstandings."

Their gazes locked. When she laid her hand over his, he hoped it was a sign of encouragement. Anything to ease his apprehension so that he could focus on getting through what was bound to be one helluva strained dinner.

"I'm sorry, too, Myles," she said. "I don't know what gets into me lately. I'm so manic, I'm driving myself crazy. I didn't mean to take my... my nervousness out on you. Especially tonight. I told you I would always be there for you, only so far I'm not doing a very good job."

"Wrong. You're the brightest spot in my life—you, and Junior." Ignoring his backer, who was about twenty feet away but was scrutinizing them with increasing interest, Myles brought her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss there. "Think we could call it a truce and start the night from scratch?"

"Why don't we just edit out the ride and keep the rest?"

"Sounds like a winner to me. But just one question before we tackle dinner with these two. You're sure it's just nerves or hormones? You're not upset with me about something else?"

"I'm sure. It's not your fault that I want—" She glanced down at her stomach and stopped short.

"Not my fault that you want what? Spit it out, Faith. I'm not moving the car until the air is cleared."

"Nothing, Myles. Let's pull up. They're coming this way."

"Tough." He had to get to the bottom of this before things could unravel even more. "They can bang on the windows for all I care, but we're not budging until this is settled. Business can wait. Anything that's affecting us personally can't."

Faith jerked her attention to the oncoming couple and rushed on. "All I meant was, it's not your fault I want to impress them. I'm afraid the dinner will be awkward."

Myles grimaced. "Awkward? I think that's a fair assumption. But we'll get through it—together. And as far as impressing anyone goes, you're worried about nothing.
I'm
impressed, and that's all that counts."

He stamped his assertion with a firm kiss on her mouth, then drove the roadster forward. He waved at Larry, who had visibly clamped down hard on his stubby cigar while Carol nearly slumped out of her mink with an expression of incredulity.

They'd seen the kiss and were obviously shocked. Too bad, Myles decided. He wasn't going to act as though Faith was less to him than she was. Even if the other couple had adored Gloria. Lord only knew what they were thinking. Once they got a gander at Faith's stomach, questions were going to be blunt. The whole surrogate fiasco was none of their concern, but he'd be damned before he'd pretend the baby wasn't his. He was as proud as punch and didn't give a tinker's damn what anyone else thought.

Except for the issue of legitimacy. It raised the hackles on his neck just thinking about his child being considered a bastard.

"Are they nice?" Faith asked anxiously as the valet sprang forward and opened her low-slung door.

"Nice. Conservative. And rich enough to be outspoken without worrying too much about stepping on someone else's toes." His gaze lowered to her belly as she stepped out. "They're also very family oriented. Ask about their grandkids, and the conversation won't run dry."

"But what if they ask about—" She gestured to her midsection. "What will I say?"

"Leave it to me, sweetheart. I'll handle them. Just relax and let me take care of any explanations."

He opened his door, but before his feet could touch ground, Carol and Larry had reached her.

"And you are?" they were saying while neither seemed capable of looking beyond Faith's stomach. Myles quickly hurried around to drape a reassuring arm around her shoulder.

"I'm—" She bit her bottom lip. "I'm Faith. Faith Taylor. You must be Carol and Larry."

"Not Gloria's sister?" they said in incredulous unison.

"Larry and Carol," Myles said, "this is someone you've heard a lot about. Please say hello to—"

"Your sister-in-law," Carol supplied as she continued to shake her head. "Though what I saw a minute ago couldn't pass for casual, and really, Myles, how could you... with Gloria barely—"

"How are your grandchildren?" Faith interjected frantically. "I'd like to hear all about them."

Everyone went silent. Larry chewed his cigar and studied her with undisguised curiosity. Faith instinctively hugged her middle. Carol opened her mouth, then shut it. A muscle tensed in Myles's jaw while he gritted his teeth.

"Save your judgments for someone else," he said with quiet control. "We've had a lot happen to us that doesn't bear sharing with other people. But you can rest assured that despite appearances, Gloria was never cheated." Myles pulled Faith close to his side while he fixed the couple with a warning stare. "That said, I'd like you to meet Faith. Not only is she having our child"—he took a deep, steadying breath—"she's going to be my wife."

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Three pairs of eyes locked on Myles. He desperately wanted to see Faith's reaction, but at the same time he was afraid to look.

She tensed beside him and gasped aloud.

Larry saved Myles the trouble of digging himself in any deeper by extending his hand and grasping Myles's in a firm, gentleman's grip.

"Congratulations," Larry said. He nudged his wife and said, "Carol, don't you have something to say?"

"Yes, of course," she said distantly, seeming to be in shock. "Congratulations. We hope you'll be very happy. And... um, I suppose congratulations are in order on your apparent... uh, great expectations. Assuming I heard right. You did say it's yours, Myles?"

"Carol," her husband said in a warning tone.

"Definitely mine," Myles asserted before venturing a glance at Faith. "And so is Faith. Aren't you, dear?"

She was staring at him in disbelief. His eyes begged her not to dispute him.

"Yes," she murmured faintly. He tightened his hold as she swayed slightly and nearly lost her balance. Her teeth began to chatter. "Could we go inside? I'm feeling a bit chilled."

Myles solicitously patted her hand, which did indeed feel icy, and led everyone inside the restaurant.

Myles was quick to help her off with her wrap. Seizing the moment for a private word, he whispered, "Please, just go along with it. Ad-lib when you have to, don't let her get you alone in the ladies' room, and nudge me under the table if you're in a jam. Please, Faith. Do this for me. I have my reasons."

"Whatever they are, they'd better be pretty damned good. How
could
you, Myles," she whispered sharply. "You could have at least given me notice you were going to pull such a ridiculous stunt."

"Sorry. I didn't know it myself until you were out of the car and about to get pummeled by Carol's nosy questions. You have to admit I didn't get us in such dire straights all by my lonesome. I'm just doing my best to clean up the mess."

"Well, you certainly could have fooled me. Your great idea to clean up the mess just thickened the gravy. I'd like to strangle you for putting me in this kind of a spot."

"But you'll back me up?"

She hesitated, and his hands tensed at her shoulders.

"I'll back you up. But you'd better watch it under the table because any nudge you get from me is going to be a kick in the shin."

He smiled politely, realizing they were being watched, and kissed her sweetly upon the cheek.

"Just try to remember we're a happy couple."

"Right. Madly in love."

The sarcastic quip was a brutal strike to his own newly realized emotions. He tried to harden himself against it, but failed miserably.

"Speak for yourself," he said in defense.

"If you'd just give me a chance for once, I would."

Her whispered retort was sharp, but he thought he discerned hurt in the depths of her stormy eyes. The hurt wasn't hers alone. Her outrage was justified, but dammit, did she have to act as though the idea of marriage to him was so distasteful? She'd just have to develop a taste for it, by God, because marriage was what he wanted and marriage was what he would get.

When the maitre d' sat them, Myles made it a point to situate himself next to Faith, with the other couple across the elegantly set table.

Myles reached beneath it to squeeze Faith's hand in reassurance, but Faith avoided him, folding her tapered fingers together, her long, ruby tinted nails contrasting vividly against the linen white.

They were saved the necessity for small talk by being handed menus.

"Would you like me to order for you, Faith?" Myles inquired.

"No thank you," she said too politely. "I'll order for myself this time." She proceeded to study the menu with concentrated interest.

"Wine or before-dinner drinks, sir?" the maitre d' asked.

"I'd like a Manhattan," Larry said. "My wife would like wine. Chardonnay."

"Thank you, dear," Carol said.

"Scotch for me, please," Myles said. "Sparkling water for—"

"I'll have half a glass of wine," Faith cut in. "I'd like the Chardonnay as well." As the waiter left, she leaned forward and sent Carol a pleasant smile. "It's my favorite too."

"Excellent choice," she agreed.

"Faith," Myles said in a low voice, "you know you shouldn't be drinking since you're—"

"But Myles," she protested with a gracious wave of her hand, "the doctor said an occasional small glass wouldn't hurt. And besides"—she nodded to the other couple, who were watching them with great interest—"I'd like to toast to our... engagement. Especially since we have the pleasure of sharing the evening and our very recent news with Larry and Carol."

"Recent?" Carol repeated. "So I take it you haven't been planning this long?"

"Oh, no," Faith answered. "We were engaged very recently. You didn't possibly think that we would, well, under the circumstances you surely realize I'm not nearly as far along as I appear. I'm showing very early, is all. What Myles said is true. Neither of us would have done something immoral and hurt a person we both loved very much. Fate simply intervened at a very crucial time."

Myles breathed a silent prayer of thanks. In spite of her anger, she was helping them maintain their moral dignity.

"I'm glad to hear that," Carol said, apparently satisfied with the explanation. "We thought the world of your sister. She's missed by many. Please accept my belated condolences."

"Thank you, Carol. Time helps."

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