Secret Baby Santos (6 page)

Read Secret Baby Santos Online

Authors: Barbara McCauley

BOOK: Secret Baby Santos
9.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
She murmured a complaint when he moved back to her neck, then trembled when he slid his hands under her soft sweater and cupped her breasts. They were smooth and firm and warm in his palms, encased in delicate lace.
She arched into him, called out his name, and it felt as if a furnace door had blown open inside him. A blast of fire ripped through him, a need so intense that he thought he might explode from its force.
Her nipples were hard against his thumbs, and he wanted to taste her there, to pleasure them both, but the angles of their bodies prohibited it. Frustrated to the point of pain, he tightened his hold on her, and nestled his arousal firmly against her bottom.
“This is what you're doing to me, Maggie,” he said harshly. “Tell me what I'm doing to you.”
“You're destroying me.”
He felt, as well as heard, the anguish in her quiet words. Why did he have the distinct feeling she didn't mean that in the most positive way?
She was as aroused as him, he was certain of that. But there was something she was holding back, something that went deeper than the physical.
She shuddered once, then went still.
“I'm sorry.” Dragging a shaky hand through her tousled hair, she sighed, then slid off the motorcycle and met his confused gaze. Her lids were heavy with desire, her lips swollen and still-moist from his kisses. “I can't do this.”
There was fear in her eyes, he realized. A look damn close to terror. “Why are you so afraid of me?”
She folded her arms, hugged them tightly to her. “It's not you I'm afraid of, Nick.” She drew in a deep breath, then said quietly, “It's me.”
That was one answer he certainly hadn't expected. Frowning, he shook his head. “I don't understand.”
“I'm going back to New York in a few weeks. I'm sorry if I led you on, but I'm not interested in this kind of—” she hesitated, obviously searching for the right words “—relationship.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The woman had completely devastated him and now she stood here and soft-pedaled what had happened. He wanted to throttle her almost as much as he wanted to kiss her again.
“It means I'm not interested in a one-night stand. It's not my style, Nick.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And you think it's mine?”
“Yes.”
He let the sting of her answer pass, then pressed his
lips tightly together. “Don't believe everything you read, Maggie.”
Between the need still drumming through his body and his sudden irritation, distance between them seemed like a good idea. He stepped off the motorcycle and moved to his workbench to turn off a pounding Rolling Stones song.
Silence echoed in the high ceilings and dark corners.
“Tell your mother I said thanks for the cookies.” He looked at Maggie, saw the desire that still burned in her eyes, and he had to turn away. He picked up a screwdriver and focused his attention on the carburetor he'd been rebuilding. “I should have the parts for Drew's bike day after tomorrow. I'll call you.”
He stiffened when he heard her move toward him. If she got too close, if she touched him, he wasn't sure what he'd do. Still, he wasn't certain if he was relieved or disappointed when she moved back again.
“Just let me know how much I owe you,” she said quietly.
“I intend to. Good night, Maggie.”
He didn't look back, not when he heard the door close behind her, not even when he heard her car start up and drive away.
Rather than damage the carburetor, he kicked his toolbox, then threw the screwdriyer. It smashed against the metal wall and clattered down behind a stack of tires three deep. Unless he moved thirty tires he wouldn't be using that screwdriver for a while.
Dammit, anyway, the woman infuriated him.
He'd be lying to say his irritation wasn't partly because she wouldn't go to bed with him. Physically she frustrated the hell out of him.
But what really got to him was her presumption of
his morals, or rather, his lack of them. He'd been accused and judged without facts before, dozens of times, and he'd never much given a damn. Even that annoying paternity suit a few years back and what people had thought of him hadn't bothered him. The woman had been out for a little money and publicity for her acting career. He'd still had to prove it to the courts. And while it might be easy to prove you
had
slept with someone, it sure as hell wasn't an easy thing to prove you hadn't.
His entire life, the only people whose opinion of him had ever really mattered were Lucas Blackhawk and Ian Shawnessy. He felt nothing for the mother who'd run out on him, nothing for the drunken stepfather she'd left him with. They were both gone now, his mother he had no idea where, nor did he care, and his stepfather had drunk himself into an early grave.
Lucas and Ian were his only family. They'd always been there for him, and he knew they always would. He trusted them with his life. What anyone else had ever thought of him simply hadn't mattered.
Until Maggie.
With Maggie it mattered.
He just didn't understand why. Why she had him pacing his shop when he had so much work to do. Why he thought about her constantly, found himself in a tangle of sheets every morning since he'd seen her at the market. Why he could still taste her, smell her as if she were standing beside him.
And why, in the fact of absolute rejection, he still wanted her, still couldn't stop thinking about her.
There was something about her that eluded him, like a dream he'd forgotten. She seemed...familiar. Not
from when they were teenagers, but something else. Another time. Another place.
Weird, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair. The whole thing was just plain weird.
 
One block away from Nick's shop, Maggie had to pull the car over to the side of the road. Her hands were shaking too badly to drive. Her entire body was shaking, for that matter.
Why had she let him get so close? She'd known the results would be disastrous if they were alone together. He didn't even have to touch her to make her bones melt. A simple look from Nick was all it took to turn her into a quivering mass of need.
Damn!
She laid her head against the steering wheel, drew in deep breaths to calm herself. She couldn't be mad at Nick, but she was furious with herself. She had to deal with this, deal with her feelings for him. They'd known each other since they were children. He lived in Wolf River now, and even though she would be going home to New York, she'd still have to see him every time she came back here. With her parents getting older, she'd already decided that her visits were going to be more frequent.
She couldn't run every time she saw him. She wouldn't. She wasn't that timid young girl she'd been, growing up. She was a woman now, a mother. Independent and confident.
Slowly she lifted her head, stared into the darkness outside the car with the first sense of calm she'd had since she'd run into Nick at Bud and Joe's and knocked over a tower of green beans.
She wouldn't be afraid; she wouldn't run. She
couldn't live that way anymore. She faced every other problem in her life and dealt with it. She would face her feelings for Nick, as well.
There was no possible way he could ever learn that Drew was his son. As long as she remembered that, she had nothing else to worry about.
Six
“M
aggie, you look wonderful! I can't believe it's really you!”
Maggie had barely stepped into the door of the Four Winds restaurant before Julianna Hadley—no, it was Julianna Blackhawk now—had her locked in a hug, though the beautiful blonde's advanced pregnancy forced Maggie to rock backward on her heels.
“Oh, my gosh!” Julianna pulled away, blue eyes wide as she covered her mouth with her hand. “I can't believe I said that. I didn't mean, that is, I wasn't—”
“It's all right.” Laughing, Maggie gave Julianna's hand a reassuring squeeze. “I do look different. Amazing what a little makeup and a decent hairdo will do.”
Taking Maggie's arm, Julianna led the way to their table, asking how Maggie's mother was and if her father was doing well after his surgery. Soft strains of Mozart floated through the elegant dining room as the
women walked through, turning several male heads of the business lunch crowd that filled the popular hotel restaurant. The hotel and restaurant was owned by none other than Lucas Blackhawk himself, Maggie had been told by her mother, though now that he was back in the ranching business, the hotel was up for sale.
Apparently, Maggie thought, she wasn't the only one with changes in her life. But still she'd been surprised when Julianna had called and asked her to lunch. They might have been in the same grade, shared several classes, but Julianna and she had never been friends. They had been two completely different people. While Maggie had been shy and dowdy and without friends, Julianna had always been the rich, beautiful Ice Princess—as she'd been cruelly dubbed—and also without friends. But this Julianna was genuinely warm and friendly, and though it hardly seemed possible, even more beautiful.
“I absolutely love that hairstyle on you, Maggie. It's perfect for your face.” Julianna eased her body into a corner booth. “You look radiant. Poised and completely self-confident. Life as a famous New York journalist obviously suits you.”
Maggie might have argued the compliments, most certainly the famous part, but a waiter in a black tuxedo appeared, snatched the linen napkin from her china plate and flicked it onto her lap in one fluid sweep. When he started to reach for Julianna's napkin, she grabbed it off the table.
“Oh, Henry, for heaven's sake. It's just me. Besides, I haven't got a lap to put this on, anyway, and I don't appreciate having that thrown in my face.”
She delicately tucked the napkin under the collar of her white silk blouse, then leaned forward and whispered
to the waiter, “I want a chance to win my five bucks back, buster. Next time it's five-card draw instead of stud poker.”
A mischievous twinkle in his gray eyes, the waiter leaned forward and whispered back, “Call any game you like, sister. I'll still beat your behind.”
With a sniff she settled back into the booth with all the grace of a princess, albeit a very pleasant one. “We'll have two sparkling waters in champagne glasses, please. We're celebrating a reunion here.”
“Right away, Mrs. Blackhawk.”
His tone might have been solicitous, but Maggie caught the wink of the waiter's eye before he turned away. “I, ah, take it you know him.”
“Henry's a regular at Lucas's Tuesday-night poker game. The whole guy thing. Beer, cigars, lots of bragging and cursing. They grumbled about me joining them at first, including Lucas, but I won, of course. Now the cigars are outside and the cursing is at a minimum, except for when I lose. Lucas threatened to wash my mouth out with soap last week.”
With a small laugh she rubbed a hand over her ample stomach. “I wasn't about to miss out on all the fun. At least not until the babies are born.”
This was
definitely
not the Julianna that Maggie remembered. “Never in a hundred years would I have pictured Julianna Hadley playing poker.”
“Julianna Hadley never would have, but Julianna Blackhawk would.” A soft smile curved her lips as she touched her stomach. “Children and a husband had been a fantasy for me. I still can't believe it. Me, Julianna Hadley married to Bad-Boy Blackhawk, of
the
notorious Wolf River Bad-Boy Threesome.”
Maggie couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that
centered deep in her heart. She was happy for Julianna and Lucas, she truly was. But her happiness for them still didn't stop the ache in her chest, or the longing for something she could never have.
“Oh, listen to me, going on like that.” Julianna dabbed at her eyes. “Tell me about your son. Nick says he's got a killer smile.”
The thought of Drew lightened the heaviness. He did have a killer smile. His father's smile. Unable to resist, Maggie pulled out her son's preschool and last-season soccer game pictures. “His name is Andrew, after my grandfather, but we call him Drew. He'll be five in three months.”
“Oh, Maggie, he's gorgeous.” Eyes wide, Julianna stared at the pictures. “Nick was right. This boy is going to break hearts. His father must be very easy on the eyes.”
Very easy on the eyes, Maggie thought. It was her heart he was hard on. With a stiff smile, she tucked the pictures back into her wallet.
“I've said something wrong.” Julianna. closed her eyes and groaned. “Oh, God, I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. You're divorced.”
Maggie could hardly tell Julianna that she'd been thinking of Nick Santos, not her ex-husband. “You're not an idiot, and besides, it was an amiable split.”
“But you're still in love with him, aren't you? You had that look there for a moment. And here I am going on about how happy Lucas and I are.” Julianna bit her bottom lip. “I'm so sorry.”
A shot of panic rang through Maggie. For a moment she thought that Julianna meant she was still in love with Nick. But of course she wasn't, she didn't know about Nick. No one knew. Still, Maggie realized that
she'd let her guard down while looking at Drew's pictures. From now on, especially around Julianna, she was going to have to be very, very careful.
Maggie laid her hand on Julianna's. “You have nothing to be sorry for. And no, I'm not still in love with my ex-husband,” she said truthfully. “That part of my life is behind me now.”
The waiter appeared with the sparkling water and menus and glided off again. Julianna reached for her glass. “Well then, here's to the present and the future. Or as Killian Shawnessy, via Nick Santos, said on the night of my first marriage to Lucas, ‘May you never forget what is worth remembering, or remember what is best forgotten.”'
Maggie's mother had relayed most of the story concerning Julianna and Lucas, how Lucas had suddenly returned to Wolf River, then shocked the town by marrying Julianna in the courthouse a few days later. Gossip flew hot and heavy for several weeks, no one expected them to last, until several weeks later when they were married again, with nearly the entire town in attendance. Maggie had heard, down to the color of the centerpiece roses and the chocolate filling in the wedding cake, every romantic detail of the reception that Lucas had surprised Julianna with, how nearly every woman there had swooned when he kissed his wife after repeating their vows. No one questioned their love after that day. True love, lasting love. The kind that time and adversity only strengthens.
Maggie thought about Julianna's toast.
Never forget what is worth remembering, never remember what is best forgotten.
She'd managed to accomplish half of that with Nick: she'd remembered every beautiful moment
they'd shared. She just couldn't quite forget the unpleasant part.
But she would. She'd vowed to put the past behind her, to let go of her feelings for Nick and simply move on with her life. That's exactly what she intended to do. That's what she had to do.
“We're having a small celebration Saturday night in honor of Blackhawk Ranch reopening,” Julianna said. “I'd love for you to come.”
Knowing that Nick would be there, Maggie started to decline, then stopped herself. Hadn't she resolved to deal with Nick? To simply face him and overcome her feelings? How else was she going to move on with her life?
“I'd love to come.” Maggie lifted her glass. “Now I'd like to make a toast. To old friends and new beginnings.”
New
beginnings,
Maggie repeated silently as they clinked glasses. Her life was starting over again as of right now. The past was the past, and it no longer existed.
Smiling, she sipped her water, then settled back into the booth. “Now, Mrs. Blackhawk, tell me more about this wonderful hunk you've married.”
 
Two days later Maggie's “new beginnings” started to crumble at exactly 6:45 p.m., the precise minute that Nick called and told her he'd be at her house at seven-thirty to pick her up for the party. The telephone dial buzzed in her ears before she even had a chance to say no.
Not that the word
no
had stopped him before.
She stared at the receiver, thought about calling him back, then decided there was no time like the present
to confront him. Things had gotten out of hand three nights ago, but that wasn't going to happen again. Tonight she was determined to have control.
Besides, this wasn't a date. He was giving her a lift to the party, that was all. It wasn't as if they were
together.
And even more important, they wouldn't be alone.
The fact that she took a little extra care with her hair and makeup had nothing to do with Nick, she told herself. The fact that she wore her black silk suit and peads—mat had nothing to do with Nick, either. There would be people at the party she hadn't seen in a long time. She wanted to look nice, that was all.
When the doorbell rang at seven-thirty, the pearl earring in her fingers slipped and bounced into the bathroom sink. She scrambled for it, narrowly catching it before it slid down the drain. She heard her mother's hellos, her father's welcoming grunt, then her son's enthusiastic greeting.
“Maggie, dear,” her mother called, “Nick's here. I'm on the phone in the kitchen, but come say goodbye before you leave. Boyd, you better not be sitting in your chair. You still have three more hallway laps to finish on your crutches.”
Her hand was shaking as she slid the earring in place and secured it. Her skin felt tight, her palms were damp. Lips pressed tightly together, Maggie stared at her reflection.
You're not little Maggie Smith anymore,
she scolded herself.
Tonight was the night to prove to herself, and to Nick, what she was made of.
Three deep breaths and she felt much calmer. She intended to have a good time tonight, and not even Nick Santos was going to stop her.
She passed her father in the hallway and kissed him on the cheek. He grumbled something about slave drivers and stupid doctors, then looked her over and gave her a wink of approval.
Drew, ready for bed in his Hercules pajamas, sat cross-legged on the floor in the living room. Wearing a black blazer and white polo shirt with black dress jeans and boots, Nick hunkered down beside him, watching while Drew demonstrated the fire power of his brand-new Robot Rider supersonic tank. Both thick, dark heads of hair were bent over the toy in rapt attention.
Maggie's heart tripped. How could he not see? she wondered. How could
everyone
not see that this little boy was Nick Santos's son?
“Target locked on,” Drew said in his best Robot Rider Commander voice. “Ready, aim, fire!”
The lipstick-size foam rubber missile struck her square in the forehead. Drew's eyes widened in shock, waiting for the firm reprimand against flying objects in the house.
Nick's eyes also widened, then narrowed with a dark intensity that sizzled up her spine and made her wish her skirt wasn't so short.
“Sorry, Mommy.” The apology was sincere. “Boy, you sure look pretty!”
Stunning
is the word that came to Nick's mind. Breathtaking. He quite literally had to remind himself to breathe. Shimmering in black stockings and high heels, her legs went on forever. Her suit, black silk edged with velvet, hugged her hips and waist, showed every tempting curve of her slender body. She'd swept her hair up in a fiery mass of curls, and several wayward
strands whispered over the string of pearls circling the base of her neck.
He tried to swallow, but he'd forgotten how.
“Thank you, Drew. Hello, Nick.” Her eyes, a deep smoky green, leveled with his as he rose from the floor.
She smiled slowly, sensuously, the confident relaxed smile of a woman who knew exactly the effect she had on men and wasn't afraid of it.
Yet another side to Maggie Smith, Nick thought dimly. And while he definitely liked
this
Maggie, this poised, self-assured femme fatale, he wasn't certain his heart could take it.
When she glided into the room and he caught the scent of her perfume, something erotic and mysterious, he was certain he was a goner.

Other books

Dream Magic: Awakenings by Harshaw, Dawn
They Were Born Upon Ashes by Kenneth Champion
PHENOMENAL GIRL 5 by A. J. MENDEN
Assassin by David Hagberg
Caesar by Allan Massie
BlackWind: Viraiden and Bronwyn by Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Stag: A Story by Ben Monopoli
Heads or Tails by Gordon, Leslie A.