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Authors: Rita Clay

BOOK: Wise Folly
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I
should think that was obvious,” she retorted with more bravado than she felt “What did you expect me to do, remain here indefinitely?”

“I expected you to know that I
'd
take care of you.”

“What
I
didn’t need was your pity!” She couldn’t breathe. Why did he affect her like this? After what had happened in the past she should be immune to him. If she could just leave, then everything would be all right.

“I never wanted to give you pity or charity
. Ju
st care, in the form of a home and a reasonable income for the rest of your life.”

“For services rendered?
And to whom? Charles or you?

T
he shakiness of her voice belied her sneering tone
. “No thanks!
I'v
e managed on my own all these years, so please
,
don’t start worrying now. If that’s the reason you
're
concerned now, then you have no fear.  And if your
company accepted my application
because you want to 'take care of me'
, then you can take your position, your reasonable income, and
wh
atever else your ‘company benefits’ are and stick them in your ear!
I'm really, really good at what I do, and certainly don't need you to hire me out of pity.
” she
stated harshly, putting her drink on the side table.


Hush for one damn minute,
” he gritted
,

and listen
.
"

She
took a deep breath and sat back. She
knew she
was going to have to have this conversation with him sometime.
It might as well be now than later
.
She was tuned to his anger, his thoughts. She knew what he was going to ask next, and she didn’t want to answer. Suddenly all the fight went out of her, but determination remained. She stared down at her hands like a gypsy looking
for her
crystal ball.

“Tell me about your daughter.” He
said, returning to the front of her chair to
tower over her, blocking any escape she might have made.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she said slowly, knowing she had to be on guard against this man and the power any information concerning Tabby could give him.

“What’s her name? How old is she?”

“Her name is Tabby, short for Tabitha. She’s six years old”

“Six,” he mused as if to himself. “And who do you claim
a
s the fat
h
er?” His eyes locked with hers.

This questioning was not a whim, but a deliberate searching for the truth—a truth she would not supply. She struggled for the words she needed to disarm him.
“Her father was a man I met right after . . . after that week. He died shortly after we were married” Her voice was steady, as was her gaze.

His brows rose.
“And he had the same last name as yours?”

“Yes.”


How much of this crap do
you expect me to believe?”

Her face blazed red.

I don't care what you think.
Believe what you want
.
” She rose to her feet, disregarding the thousands of butterflies beating against the lining of her stomach. Unconsciously she placed one hand on the side of her throbbing head
.
He watched her movements through narrowed eyes, without speaking. The silence roared In Dianna’s ears.


W
hy did you apply for a job at Wescomp?
O
bviously
, it
wasn’t my winning personality you wanted to be near.”

She knew she had to answer as many questions as she could as honestly as she could. It would be less to remember later.
“Because the money is better than
I've
been
earning
, and the opportunity for advancement is greater.”

“Any other reasons I should know about?” His body was almost touching, sending heat waves to
her
. S
uffocating
. He was not going to let her pass.

“One other reason, yes.” She
tilted her chin. She would be damned to let him see her weaknesses.
“You have an excellent medical plan and Tabby has a health problem.”

“What kind of health problem?” His voice was low, husky, more like a caress than a question. But he still watch
ed
her like a waiting panther debating if it had a full stomach or room enough to digest one more morse
l
.

“She has a small hole in the wall of her heart that will need expensive surgery to correct
.
” She turned her head away from his eyes, her senses reeling
, b
ut she couldn’t move. “Surely none of this has to do with my qualifications, Mr. Weston?”

“Qualifications? No, it has nothing to do with your
new
job at Wescomp.”

S
he stared at him, looking more vulnerable than she knew. H
e
searched her face intently, seeing the tension and pain she tried so hard to hide.
“I just don’t like secrets, Mrs. Hammond, and you’re the secretive kind.”

“Everyone has . . .” She hesitated.

He broke in, a
questioning
look on his face
.

...
Skeletons in the closet?”

She
looked
toward the large patio overlooking Downtown Dallas.
“Something like that yes*”

“But your skeleton is so interesting,” he mocked

Her voice was cold as she spoke, belying the fear in her eyes. “But it is
my
skeleton
.

“Are you sure you didn’t return to Wescomp to ask
me
for help with . . . your daughter?”
he asked,
Ignoring her statemen
t.


If
you think that, then you’re way off the mark! I’m an expert in my field. I applied for the job because I thought I could give my skill
in exchange
for
one of the best
salaries
in
the
Dallas
area
and better medical care for Tabby
.
It's something any
parent
would do.
If you didn’t want me
to work
in your company
, you should have taken care to have my application turned down!” she
stated,
her headache pounding even harder now
. “Or is it your ego talking? Do you think every female is out to get you?”

He gave a shrug.
“They usually are.”

“You insufferable, conceited . . .”

He raised a hand to stop her from continuing.
“Watch it, or I may take you up on your offer of resignation. Then where would Tabby be?” Noah didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in his tone
, glitter in his gray eyes confirming his words
.

She
lost her bravado. Who was she kidding? She'd do anything to
g
et Tabby the surgery she needed
as soon as possible
. With a
minimum of questioning,
she'd allowed him to
discover her Achilles’ heel
, and knew he'd use it if he could
.
Coldness
enveloped her a
t that thought
.

Her
throbbing
head began spinning
and
her hands were clammy with sweat
.
She felt herself
getting lightheaded
and reached
to put her glass on
the table, but it wasn’t there. Bile rose in her throat only to back down again. In the next second she was in Noah’s arms, being carried into a darkened room. The absence of light made the throbbing pain behind her eyes subside slightly.

‘Tm sorry,” she murmured, “but my head . . .”

‘You suffer from migraine?”

“Yes, but I haven’t had one in such a long time I haven’t
..
.

He laid her down carefully. The coolness of the satin coverlet felt
soothing
against her heated skin. His arms slipped away but his voice was close to her ear as he spoke.

“Lie still,
I'll
be back in a minute.” His footsteps were muffled on the thick carpeting as he left the room. She
heard
him speaking to someone on the phone,
and then
a light was flicked on in the connecting bath. She shrank from the glare, hiding her head in the soft pillow. The
light
disappeared and
he pulled her up, and said, "
T
ake these."

She downed two pills with the water he held in his hand. As she lay down,
a cool cloth was placed on her forehead.

“Rest,” she heard Noah’s
deep
voice whisper, and she gave a sigh.

His hands were gentle as he stroked her temples, brushing back a few stray wisps of hair, soothing her, stroking her into a deep relaxation.

She had done it
.
She had kept her secret
.
She had bearded
the
lion in his den and come out unscathed. Almost
. She relaxed the tensed muscles in her neck as the pain eased.

***

June stood
nervously
by the living-room window as she watched Noah step out of his sleek midnight-blue Mercedes
and the security light at their walk light up from his movement
. Her stomach
was
cramped into a tight ball—even tighter than when Noah had called
half an hour earlier.
Was he telling the truth? Had Dianna really decided he should meet Tabby? If that was so, then why wasn’t Dianna here to help with the introductions between the child and her uncle? Was she really ill, or was that just an excuse on Noah’s part?
She had tried to reach her sister but the cell phone was not answering. Instead, she'd left two messages on the phone.
June ignored the small frightened voice that echoed in her head, telling her she was
forced to
believ
e
Noah because she had no choice, no choice at all.

David answered the door and led Noah into the living room, making po
lite
introductions that were not needed
.
June poured coffee with slightly shaking hands and listened to the two men discuss Tabby’s future impersonally, as if she were a stock in which they were interested in investing. She knew she was the only one with misgivings, because David’s eyes were bright with unashamed envy and Noah’s lit with interest at every
tid
bit of information about Tabby’s life to date
, especially the Doctor's comments on Tabby's necessary surgery.

Noah spoke vaguely of his future plans for Tabby and Dianna, and June wondered if even he knew what he was going to do next
.
She pushed the thought away quickly. He was too decisive a man not to have some plan already worked out
.
Her only worry was whether he would help or hinder Dianna. But she couldn’t voice her thoughts to either of these men. They both thought they knew best
.
She was only there as silent proxy for her sister.

“June.” Noah’s voice broke into her troubled thoughts and she sat straighter in her chair, much like a young girl in a principal’s office. “How much of Dianna’s story is made up? She informed
the HR Department
that she had been married
, but no one can find a marriage license.
Is
it
true?”

"What business is it of anyone's but Dianna's?" June asked.

"Because if there is a marriage, the husband
has to
be considered Tabby's father and his permission might be needed for surgery - or it might be done under his medical plan."

He was right. She sighed.

Dianna never married. It was a made-up story to shield her from our parents, who found the truth out
later
and shamed her.
” June
finally admitted
. Noah of all people should have known that “Dianna told everyone she was married to hide
the
fact that she was having a child out of wedlock—the story was used for protection.
No matter how much the rest of the world relaxes their standards, Dianna never relaxed hers.  But, w
e all kn
e
w Tabby
was
Charles’s child.”

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