Teddy Bear Heir (22 page)

"I just hope he doesn't ask Manny to sing a few tunes," Michaela said as she and Cameron walked into the elegant party.

"I don't think he will but I do know the whole family's invited."

"Really!"

"They're celebrating, as well," he said. "Perry's wife just had her first child."

"Don't tell me. They named it Gilligan."

"No. Twin girls. Patty and Cathy."

* * *

The party sparkled. Everyone commented about how excellent the dinner was, how wonderful the music from the steel band sounded, how fabulous Julian looked. And he did look good. Julian Theodore Black had put his trial behind him and now looked forward to the good times.

Cameron caught sight of his grandfather by the champagne.

"Having a good time?" he asked him.

"I'd have a better time if you'd hurry up and marry that girl before she gets away."

"Grandfather—"

Julian held up a hand to still any protests. "I'm sorry, Cameron. These things need to be said. I should've had this talk with you long ago."

Without preamble, he charged headlong into a litany of questions. "When are you going to wake up and see how much she's got to offer you? And I don't just mean the baby. When are you going to realize you two need each other? What's it going to take to make you fall in love with her? Why can't you—"

"I love her."

"If you'd just take a good look at your life and realize that running the world's biggest toy company doesn't amount to a hill of beans—what did you say?"

"I love her."

Julian looked stunned. "When did you come to this realization?"

"A while ago."

"And you haven't told her!"

"Things have been pretty hectic. I've been waiting for the right time, a peaceful moment – just the two of us. You've got to admit, Jules, they've been in short supply."

While he talked, a smile had broken out on his grandfather's face. He'd never seen the man look so utterly happy.

"That they have, my boy. That they have." His blue eyes twinkled shrewdly. "So, if you had to take this particular quest all over again, what do you think you'd learn?"

"That love's the only thing worth fighting for. The only thing there is, when you come right down to it."

He was enveloped in a fierce bear hug by Julian. The emotion in that quick, physical gesture almost overwhelmed him.

Julian stepped back, not mindful of the tears forming in his eyes.

"So the prince wins the prize after all," he whispered. He touched his grandson's cheek with a shaky hand.

"Oh, Cameron. Mary would be so proud of you."

* * *

The party went on into the wee hours of the morning. Michaela was enjoying herself immensely. She'd taken a long nap earlier in the afternoon because she planned to party all night. Now, thinking about tasting yet another one of the culinary delights that Julian had provided for his guests, she saw him gesture her over.

Grabbing an enormous strawberry that had been dipped in white chocolate, she headed his way.

"I don't think I told you, young lady, what an outstanding job I thought you did in that courtroom."

"Oh, only about a couple of dozen times a day for the last week."

Julian's blue eyes twinkled. "Where's that young man of yours?"

"He went to get something to drink. He'll be back shortly."

"Try to manage a moment alone with him if you can."

"Why Julian, do you know something I don't?"

"Maybe, maybe."

He looked so delighted she couldn't help smiling back.

''Your father would've been proud of you in that courtroom. I wish Mike could've seen you."

Her smile faded just a little on the inside as memories took hold of her. She'd felt so very bittersweet the morning after the trial, reading the papers in the sunny living room of her Victorian home.

Mike Larkin would've loved the various articles about her, would've laughed out loud as he'd read them, would've bought multiple copies of all the newspapers and sent copies to distant relatives. He would've put several of the best up on the refrigerator.

She'd put her favorite article up with a funny little magnet of a lobster he'd bought her down at Fisherman's Wharf one afternoon. She'd looked at it, the black and white newsprint contrasted against the cool white appliance, but the feeling hadn't been the same.

Michaela knew she needed someone to love her the way Mike Larkin had loved her – unconditionally, totally, forever.

"Michaela? Did I say something wrong?"

"No. No, Julian." She touched his arm, reassuring him, knowing if she didn't get away soon she'd burst into tears.

"Michaela, if I-"

"I'm going to take a walk on the beach. I think I need a little time by myself." Handing him the uneaten strawberry, she turned and walked swiftly out of the room.

The beach was empty which was fine by her. There were a series of paths that cut through the terraced garden to a long flight of stone steps that led to the sand. She took off her sandals at the foot of the steps and left them there, then started walking along the water's edge.

Dawn would be coming soon and with it some tough decisions.

She'd never signed that contract she'd drawn up for Cameron's wife-to-be. He'd asked her to, that day in the nursery. But then on the island, it seemed as if things had changed. As if he’d changed. And then Julian fell ill and the trial had consumed them.

The time had come to figure out what would happen to them for the rest of their lives.

Her hands splayed over her gently rounded belly. She instinctively rubbed the baby they'd created. She needed to figure out what would happen to them when the baby came.

What would happen after their baby was born? Then Cameron would have the heir he'd set out to find five months ago. Would it change the way he felt about her?

She wondered what kind of a father he'd be – and if she'd even be around to judge.

Tears welled in her eyes. It hurt so very badly to know Cameron would never be capable of loving her the way she loved him.

The baby will love you...

She looked out across the moonlight on the ocean.

His baby would be a comfort to her and such a miracle. How wonderful, the way children loved you so totally, with every bit of strength in their tiny hearts.

What happened to cause people to close up, to be incapable of love?

The time she'd spent out in the world had made her realize what a truly extraordinary man her father had been, for fate had dealt Mike Larkin a hand that would've made most men incredibly bitter. Yet he'd still had so much to give his daughter, his community, his world.

"You were right about Cameron," she whispered, remembering the words her father had said after meeting him. Something about making sure he loved you, or else...

Or else it would be what I have now.

"I followed my heart, Pop. I just didn't think it would turn out this badly. Oh, I don't mean
that 
badly. I'm going to be a mother and I never thought that would happen. I have my health, I have work I love..."

The bright star she'd always thought of as his winked furiously in the night sky. She could almost hear his rich, deep voice.

Not enough, my girl. Not enough...

"Oh, I know." She paused to collect her thoughts.

"Why is it," she began, her voice tight, "that I can fight a court case to the very end, hike across a jungle and even walk across a bridge hundreds of feet up in the air and yet I can't seem to figure out how to make him love me?"

She could almost hear her father's laughter, certainly not malicious, simply full of love for her and life’s ironies. The memory made her smile.

"Funny, huh? I was so sure all it would be was that one night. And I could’ve lived with that, 'cause I'm like you, Pop. I make my decisions and I stand by them."

She walked a little closer to the water, letting the foaming waves curl over her bare feet.

"Who am I trying to fool? It wasn't just one night." She placed a hand on the curve of her belly. "Even if there hadn't been a baby, even if there had never been a baby, it would've been forever for me, after that night."

The star twinkled in the sky. It comforted her to think that, somehow, her father just might be listening.

"So what do I do, Pop? What am I going to do?"

She thought of her father, and then of Mary, whose voice had spoken to her from within the pages of her journals. And it was within those journals she'd learned that Julian's and Mary's marriage had not been easy, that they had their share of troubles and arguments.

And one of the major ones had been that Julian had struggled against his heart and what it had tried to tell him from the moment he'd met Mary.

Words from the journal flitted into her mind.

Oh, I know that stubborn old fool. After I'm gone, he'll tell everyone that it was some nonsense like love at first sight. Well maybe it was, but that still didn't make it easy for my Jules. Why is it that women believe love adds to their lives, while to a certain kind of man it is a weakness and to be avoided?

Like grandfather, like grandson. They were so alike and couldn't see it – stubborn, proud, and sometimes even afraid.

With a baby on the way she didn't have the luxury of making certain types of choices. Now every choice for the rest of her life had to be the best choice for her child.

"Then I'll stay with him," she whispered into the sky.

She could almost feel her father's love and approval surrounding her, embracing her.

"Because sometimes," she said, repeating words she'd heard him tell her over and over again, "we have to make choices in this life that aren't always about us."

He'd taught her well.

She tried to find the star again. Dawn was breaking and it was fading into the lilacs, pinks and golds of the morning sky.

"Thanks, Pop," she whispered, looking out over the horizon. "You'll never know how much."

She'd never had the chance to truly thank him. Now all she wanted to tell him was that she hoped she could be half the parent to her unborn child that he'd been to her.

She walked over to the base of a huge palm tree. Sitting down on the cool sand, heedless of her evening dress, she surrendered to her emotions and finally cried.

* * *

He'd followed her to the beach but when he'd started to approach her, he sensed she was involved in thoughts and feelings so private he shouldn't disturb them.

He watched her cry and knew he was the cause.

When she got up and started to walk slowly along the beach, he went after her.

And knew, in his heart, he'd never find a better time than now.

* * *

"Michaela!"

She turned at the sound of her name and saw him. He was walking toward her on the beach in his tuxedo pants and shirt but had discarded his jacket and shoes. Barefoot, he looked beautiful and proud, like a pirate king in his own little kingdom.

She wiped her cheeks and hoped he couldn't tell she'd been crying.

She mustered a smile but knew it didn't reach her eyes.

"Michaela."

Something was wrong.

Michaela... not Mike.

Her heart started to pick up speed.

He took both her hands in his and tightly held on to them as if they were a lifeline. And all of a sudden she knew they were.

She didn't say a word as anticipation so thick and sweet crowded her throat. Her heart was pounding so furiously she could barely hear the sound of the waves around their feet. The bottoms of his tuxedo pants were getting soaked and he didn't even notice.

He simply touched her hair, her face, then kissed her forehead, looked into her eyes...

"Michaela, I love you."

She started to tremble inside as she realized every dream she'd ever wanted was about to come true, on this beach, at this moment. The only thing she'd ever wanted in her life was Cameron's love and he was finally giving it to her.

She must not have moved at all because he said it again, this time dropping to his knees in front of her in the wet sand, putting his arms around her, and ruining those beautiful pants once and for all.

"I love you and I can't live without you. I need you, Michaela, to make me laugh, to argue with me, to help me raise our child, to share a life that I promise you will be as good as I can possibly make it. It’s just no good without you.''

Her hands moved to his hair in a daze then she pressed the side of his head against her rounded belly, holding him against her until her legs started trembling so badly she could barely stand.

He stood, swung her up into his arms and carried her to the shelter of the palm trees, where he sat down and cradled her in his lap.

"Say my name," she whispered, her face buried in his neck as tears streamed down her face.

"Michaela. Oh, darling, don't cry."

"Say it, and don't ever call me Mike again."

"Michaela, I love you. Only you." He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly against him. "Forever."

* * *

Mary Fiona Larkin Black was born almost three weeks past her due date, at exactly four minutes after midnight on a damp and foggy December twenty- fifth.

Christmas Day. A day for miracles.

"Well, Julius," said Mrs. Monahan, "according to my calculations, she has a third house sun in Capricorn, her moon is in the twelfth and she has Libra rising." She pushed back the cap of her elf costume and gave the top of her head a scratch.

Julian, dressed as Santa Claus and making his yearly tour of the children's ward in one of his favorite San Francisco hospitals, couldn't take his eyes off the soundly sleeping baby girl.

His great-granddaughter was absolutely perfect.

"And what does all that mean?"

"That she'll be beautiful—"

"Of course she is. Look at her."

"That, hopefully, she'll have a few siblings to interact with."

"Michaela will see to that. After what Cameron saw her go through, he's already decided there will be no more babies."