Adopt-a-Dad

CHAPTER SIX

MICHAEL LEFT, and he should have gone straight home. He was tired, wasn’t he? The last sleep he’d had seemed days ago, in a hotel in El Paso.

With his wife.

The words kept drifting into his mind and staying. His wife.

She wasn’t his wife, he told himself savagely. She was just some woman he’d done a favor for. She had nothing to do with him.

The car nosed itself toward her apartment all by itself.

What was he doing? It was close to midnight. Jenny’d be asleep, and he had no business being there.

He’d just drive by to see.

To see what? He was being a dope.

But he’d just drive by, all the same.

HER LIGHT WAS ON.

He couldn’t see Jenny’s apartment from the street. It had one lousy window looking out over the fire escape at the back, but Michael knew it well enough by now. He’d just sort of head his car down the back alley where he’d parked it before and look up, and- Her light was on.

So what if it was on? So what if she was having a sleepless night?

Maybe she was having cramps again.

It had nothing to do with him, he told himself, a note of desperation entering his logic. Tomorrow he’d convince her to move into his place, but for now she didn’t want him. If her muscles cramped, then she’d just walk around until they eased. It was only for one night.

That was that. He should never have come here. He backed his car onto the street again and turned away from-

No. He didn’t turn away. His car slowed to a crawl. Another car was parked in front of the apartments.

Not just a car. A Mercedes.

This wasn’t the sort of neighborhood where you parked a Mercedes, Michael knew. For one thing, no one in this neighborhood owned such a pricey car. For another, it was careless. On Saturday nights, vandalism was at its worst, and parking expensive cars in this low-income district was asking for trouble. Michael had left his Corvette here two days ago, in broad daylight with Jenny inside, and even then there’d been trouble.

But why was the Mercedes here? And why was Jenny’s light on?

Maybe there was no connection at all. Still… Edgy, he drove slowly past the car and noticed the tiny sticker on the edge of the windshield. It was a stylish S, so small and discreet that thieves weren’t supposed to know what it stood for, but Michael did. He’d been a cop. He was trained to notice such things. The S stood for Sparchan’s Rental Service-suppliers of luxury rental cars for the well-heeled tourist.

So what was a well-heeled tourist doing parked outside this dump of an apartment block at midnight?

When Jenny’s light was on?

He didn’t like it, and suddenly his logic wasn’t driving him. Instinct was. It took him ten seconds to park the car, ignoring the threat of thieves and vandals, and another ten to race up three flights of stairs.

Jenny…

At the top of the stairs he forced himself to pause. He’d been trained too well to rush in without thought. Stop, think and live. That was his legacy from Dan. It was a hard-learned lesson, but one he’d never forget. He paused and slid along the wall, his eyes on Jenny’s door.

It was wide open, and a woman was speaking. Not Jenny. An older woman with an aristocratic English accent. Measured, controlled and icy with contempt.

“You’re coming with me, my dear. Now! If you believe I’ll allow my grandchild to be born here, then you’re even sillier than I think you are.”

Michael frowned. There was real venom behind the words.

“I’m not coming with you, Gloria.” That was Jenny. Her breathing was too fast, and it was all he could do not to rush in. “You can take your thugs and leave. I’m staying right here.”

Thugs!

Wait… Force yourself to wait, he told himself harshly. Rushing could do more harm than good.

The thugs wouldn’t be doing any physical harm, he figured, his thoughts racing. If it was Gloria, she wouldn’t allow Jenny to be hurt-not while Jenny was carrying the baby she wanted so much. Somehow Michael forced himself to keep still, straining all the time to hear.

“You’re not staying here.” Gloria’s voice lowered, became silky smooth. Michael slid silently along the wall until he was beside the doorway. He could hear but not see. Thugs, Jenny had said. How many? “It’s time this nonsense was over. I have a plane waiting to leave. The immigration people were ready to escort you there for me, and then you had to be so foolish as to take such drastic measures to avoid them. You might have known it wouldn’t work. What did you pay to have someone marry you?”

“I didn’t pay Michael. He wanted-”

“Of course you had to pay. No one would want you like this.” The woman’s voice was disdainful. “Look at you. This place is a disgrace, you’re fat and unattractive, and your breeding’s appalling. What my son saw in you-”

“Peter wanted me.”

That stopped her for a moment. “Oh, yes,” Gloria said at last, her voice an angry hiss. “My esteemed son. He wanted you. For about five minutes. You know very well the only reason he married you was that you were so low-class he knew it would upset me. You were a grubby bit of boyish rebellion, nothing more.”

“Get out,” Jenny whispered, and Michael could hear fear mixed with her anger. “Get out now, this minute, or I’ll call the police.”

“You just try it, my dear.” There was a pause, then Jenny’s breath rasped inward, as if something dreadful had been placed before her. “This is for you, my sweet daughter-in-law. We need to be sure you come quietly. Unless you agree to accompany me like the meek, quiet mother of my son’s heir.”

“No.”

“But yes, my dear.”

He’d heard enough. Michael spun into the doorway and faced them.

There were two thugs, men built like stud bulls. They were dressed in immaculate suits, but the image of civility stopped right there. They looked like bouncers at some seedy nightclub, and he thought he recognized one of them from his days on the force. They were thick-necked and heavy-jowled, and seemed to have been squeezed into their suits. With one glance Michael understood Jenny’s fear. One of the men had a syringe, and he was holding it toward Jenny like a gun.

What the hell? Michael’s mind raced. He’d seen syringes in his time, held by drug addicts and wielded like weapons. This one was different, though. These people wanted Jenny’s baby. At worst the syringe would contain an anesthetic and, unless Gloria was a complete fool, it wouldn’t be harmful to an unborn child. Or its mother.

There was no sign of any gun, and why should there be? They wouldn’t need one. Two large men and one woman against a very pregnant Jenny? What were the odds?

Jenny would be no match at all.

Nor was there any guarantee Michael could do better, he thought grimly. He wasn’t carrying his gun. He was fit and well trained, but he wasn’t as tall or as heavy as either of these guys. He moved into the room and stepped aside, leaving the doorway clear. Then he stood still, loose-limbed and watchful.

Unnecessary violence wasn’t his style. Besides which, there was a really good chance he could lose. What he needed here was logic.

“That’s enough,” he said flatly. “You’re scaring the lady, and she’d like you to leave.” His voice was soft, with just the faintest undertone of menace. “Now.”

“Who-” He’d caught them by surprise. Gloria wheeled to face him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jenny’s husband,” Michael told her. “I’m asking you to go.”

There was a long, drawn-out moment of absolute silence in which it seemed the whole world stood still. Jenny’s face was drained of all color. She’d backed away from the men and stood with her hands behind her to hold the table, as though she had need of its support.

Her eyes had flickered once to Michael as he entered, but her gaze returned to the first thug’s hand. They were fixed on the syringe.

She wouldn’t be thinking the way he was, Michael knew. She’d be terrified of the syringe for her baby’s sake.

But the threat was fading. The guy wielding the syringe hadn’t moved. He was the one Michael had recognized, and there was a trace of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Bruno,” Michael said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Bruno’s hand dropped to his side. “He’s a cop,” he said into the stillness. “I know him.” It obviously made a difference. Bruno would do a lot for money, Michael thought grimly, but violence-kidnapping and assault-in front of cops was out of his league. Michael had arrested him in a drug bust years back. Just as well Bruno didn’t know he had left the force.

Bruno’s eyes were on Gloria, and Gloria was obviously thinking fast. The lady was diminutive and beautifully groomed, dressed in an immaculate soft gray suit that must have set the estate back thousands. Her dark hair was perfectly coiffed, her eyebrows penciled into lines of permanent astonishment, and her pearls looked to be worth a king’s ransom.

She had the appearance of a woman in charge of her world.

She wasn’t in charge now. Michael could see a whole gamut of emotions race across her features as her sharp, intelligent eyes summed him up. She cast a quick glance at Bruno and saw his uncertainty. It added to her own.

He saw her other henchman’s muscles tense and involuntarily tensed his own. He had to deflect the violence fast. Michael was superbly muscled and trained to use his body to good effect, but there were two against one here, and he was no Superman.

“Yeah, I’m a cop, and I wouldn’t do anything stupid,” he said into the silence. “It’s not worth it. It will achieve nothing and get you into so much trouble your heads will spin. All the money in the world won’t get you out of it.”

And then he waited.

While Gloria thought.

What were her options? he asked himself, his eyes not leaving her face. Keep going? Make her men bash him-if they would-and take Jenny by force?

“Even if you hurt me,” he said pleasantly, “I have a large extended family who will move to protect Jenny, plus the police force. She’s not alone. She has me-her husband-and she has in-laws and connections. If you succeed in taking Jenny out of the country, we’d invoke the full force of the law in having her and her baby returned. The Lords and the Maitlands are a powerful force in Austin. This is our territory, and you’re not welcome.”

Silence. The woman’s face contorted in fury.

“What are you being paid?” she demanded at last, her voice furious.

“I’m sorry?” Michael showed polite surprise, nothing more. His eyebrows arched as if he couldn’t make any sense of what he was hearing.

“What has the girl promised you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You won’t get any of it. The child stands to inherit, but the girl herself… She’s as poor as a churchmouse.”

“If we’re talking about Jenny-”

“Of course we’re talking about Jenny. My daughter-in-law. But if she’s-”

“You know, I don’t think she is your daughter-in-law anymore,” Michael said evenly, his eyes flicking to Jenny and then moving away. Hell, she looked dreadful. If he kept looking at her, he’d slug someone. “She was only your daughter-in-law while she was married to your son. But she’s no longer married to your son. She’s married to me.”

“You really married her?”

He didn’t just want to slug someone. He wanted to slug her. “I really married her.”

“Why on earth-”

“That’s none of your business.” Michael’s voice was flint hard. “Get out.”

“No.” Gloria smiled then, and at her nod, Bruno carefully replaced the cap on the syringe. He placed the sealed syringe in his pocket, and Jenny’s breath came out in a rush of relief. “Not quite yet.”

“Now.” Michael took one dangerous step forward, but Gloria put up two beautifully manicured hands.

“There’s no need.”

“There is.”

“How much do you want?”

It was a raw demand, thrown bluntly into the room, and it had the effect of making Michael stop dead.

“What?”

“I assume there’s money in here somewhere.” Gloria cast a disdainful look at Jenny. “I have no idea what terms you’ve agreed on, but I’ll make it worth your while to forget them. You can say you married her when you were drunk. I’ll pay you off, and we’ll have your marriage annulled. You’ll find me more than generous.”

“Generous?” Michael’s eyes were watchful, carefully assessing.

“More than generous.” Gloria’s mouth twisted into the self-satisfied smile of someone who knew everyone had his price. “Say two hundred thousand?”

“American dollars?”

“Pounds sterling.” The smugness grew more pronounced. “That’s about three hundred thousand of your-”

“I know what it’s worth.” Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You’d pay that much? You must really want her.”

“I want nothing about her. I just want the baby.”

“I’m not-” Jenny spoke from the other side of the room, but Gloria turned on her like a snake.

“Quiet, girl. We’re talking business.”

“How high will you go?” Michael asked idly, and waited.

Gloria looked at him assessingly.

“I have to assume you’ll go higher. If Jenny has offered me more than that-”

“She hasn’t.” Gloria swiveled to stare at Jenny incredulously. “She doesn’t have a penny to her name. I’ve seen to that. If she’s said she has, then she’s lying.”

“How much?” Michael asked. “Half a million pounds?”

“I don’t-”

“You really want the kid. Do you want him half a million pounds’ worth?”

“I don’t-”

“Get out, then,” Michael said indifferently. “Half a million pounds, or we’re not talking at all.”

“Michael!” Jenny’s voice rose in dismay. She was staring from Gloria to Michael, and her face reflected her sense of betrayal. “You don’t mean-”

“Quiet, Jenny,” Michael said kindly. “Can’t you see your mother-in-law-or your ex-mother-in-law-and I are doing business?”

“I don’t wish-” Gloria said, but Michael interrupted.

“That’s not the way to talk. Not when you’re trying to buy a man’s wife from him. Half a million or out!” He took a step toward Gloria, and Gloria fell back as the thugs stepped forward. Neither of the heavyweights seemed to know what to do.

“Very well, I agree,” Gloria said weakly. “Half a million.”

Silence.

“You’ll pay that much?” Michael demanded.

“I said I agreed.”

“Half a million pounds,” Michael said blankly. “You have to be kidding. Certified check?”

“If you must.”

Jenny gave an angry, desperate gasp and headed for the door. Michael moved to block her, holding her lightly against him.

“No, Jen. Stay.”

“I’m not a possession,” she said furiously. “To be bartered.”

“No.” He looked thoughtfully into her furious eyes and smiled, then looked at Gloria. “She’s right. Jen’s not a possession. Besides, she’s real cute. You know, I have a mind to keep her.”

“For half a million-”

“I know. I’m nuts. But a wife like this doesn’t come along every day.”

“You know you don’t want her. It’s just a marriage of convenience. How much?”

“You mean you’d go higher?”

“I…” Gloria looked incredulous. Then the venom returned in force. “If I must. But not-”

“She’s not for sale.”

“You’ll have your price. Everyone does. And if you don’t sell…”

“Are you threatening me?”

“If you like. It’s my son’s child.”

“No.” Michael’s arm held Jenny tight. “Jenny’s carrying my son. That’s the end of it.”

“Your son!” she hissed. “Any DNA testing in the world will tell that’s nonsense.”

“I think you’ll find,” Michael said smoothly, “that since I’ve married Jenny, any court in the land will uphold my right to claim fatherhood-with or without DNA testing. As long as Jenny doesn’t dispute it, and I don’t think she’ll do that.” He looked into her confused eyes and smiled. “Will you, love?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” His thoughtful gaze returned to Gloria. “Now get out and stay out. Take your hired men and your filthy little syringe and your private jet and get the hell out of this country. If Jenny and I never see you again it’ll be too soon.”

“You can’t-”

“Oh, yes, I can,” Michael said softly, dangerously. “Jenny’s my wife, and I know how to look after my own. Get out. Now.”

THEY DIDN’T SPEAK.

They didn’t speak while Gloria and her thugs took themselves down the stairs, Bruno giving them a nervous backward glance. They didn’t speak while the trio gunned the Mercedes into action and drove out of sight, rubber burning on the road behind them. Michael could have bet Bruno was behind the wheel. Jenny stood numb while Michael crossed to the bed and reached under it for her suitcase.

Finally she stirred to life again. A couple of kids-a boy and girl of about sixteen, draped around each other in obvious lust-had stopped at her open door and were staring in. Their curiosity was obvious.

“You heading to the hospital?” the boy demanded, looking with fascination from Jenny’s belly to where Michael was placing things in her suitcase. “Looks about time. My mom said you went on Thursday. False alarm?”

“I…yeah.”

“Gee, you’re big,” the girl breathed, and Michael suppressed a grin and turned to face them.

“That’s what happens when you let your heart take over from your head,” he told the entwined couple. “It’ll happen to you, too, if you’re not careful.”

“We’re not that dopey. He’s got protection,” the girl retorted. “Don’t you, Bob?”

But Bob, it seemed, hadn’t. He gave a shamefaced grin. “Aw, we don’t need it, Mary. It’s safe.”

The girl wrinkled her nose in horror and turned to look at Jenny. Her eyes widened. Obviously Jenny’s condition didn’t appeal one bit. “You moron. You think I want to be as fat as that? Get real.”

“Aw, Mary…”

The girl turned and fled downstairs, and Bob followed, bleating protestations of eternal love. He hadn’t caught her by the time he reached the street, and his protests echoed faintly into the night.

“I think we might just have done our bit for population control,” Michael said, grinning. Then he glanced at Jenny’s white face and tried to think of something to ease the strain he saw there. She wasn’t smiling. “Hey, it’s okay, Jen. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”

“I don’t want to be looked after.” She closed her apartment door and leaned against it, breathing fast. “Nor do I want to be an advertisement for safe sex. Michael, what are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“I can see that. But why?”

“You know you can’t stay here.”

“Or you’ll sell me,” she said bitterly. “For half a million pounds.”

“That was some offer!” He tried to make her smile. “Just lucky I’m already loaded.”

“Lucky.” She winced. “You sounded interested.”

“Yeah.” He left what he was doing and put his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. Her eyes were full of worry. “Sure, I was interested in seeing just how far she’d go.”

“And?”

“And it seems the sky’s the limit. If she’s prepared to pay half a million for this baby, then you move into my place right now. I thought we’d have a couple of days’ grace from immigration, and maybe we do, but it’s not safe for you to stay here.”

“Gloria’s gone.”

“If you stay here, then she’ll be back.”

“No.”

“Yes, Jenny,” he said, his eyes locking on hers. “She wants your baby, and she wants it a lot. Her offer told me that. The woman has no scruples. You need to be out of her range.”

“I’ll go to a hotel.”

“You think she can’t find you? She has serious money, Jen. She can bribe and she can buy whatever she wants.”

“But I’m married. I have the right to stay here. She can’t touch me. Even if she forced me to go to England tonight, do you think I’d stay there?”

“What would you do if she succeeded in getting you back to England? You have no money, and she has influence there. If she manages to get the baby to England and applies to the courts for custody, Lord only knows what dirt she’ll dig up against you. She can pay whoever she wants to say whatever she likes. Since the baby stands to inherit the title, then an English court may order that the baby stays with her. So…”

“So?”

“The only thing to do is to stay with our original plan,” he said, still holding her shoulders. His gaze was intent and sure. Jenny’s world was crumbling, so he had to sound confident. “I understand why you had to run, but the threat’s not over. We make sure our marriage sticks. It’s a legal contract, but Gloria will be down at immigration first thing tomorrow telling them our marriage is a sham. She’ll shout it to the rooftops, and if necessary she’ll bribe them to get their interest.”

“But…”

“Jen, if she’s not back here tomorrow, the immigration officials will be. That’s almost guaranteed. Either way, you can’t be here. Our marriage has to seem real. You have to be with me. You need my protection, and so does your baby.” He gave a self-mocking smile. “Maybe it’s time for me to be a real hero.”

She didn’t smile back. “Michael, I don’t want to live with you.”

“Jen, we started this,” he told her, and his voice took on a note of steel. “You knew you’d have to stay with me, whether you want to admit it or not. To do otherwise is stupid, and Gloria’s proven that tonight. Now, let’s get your gear packed and move you where you legally belong. Living with your husband.”

JENNY SAID NOTHING on the drive, but Michael was growing accustomed to her silences. He liked them, he thought. When his sisters were upset they let him have it with both barrels. Jenny withdrew into herself, holding her trouble close.

They had packed all her belongings into the Corvette. There was nothing personal left in her apartment.

“The break has to be complete,” he told her.

“I can’t stay with you forever.”

A couple of years, he thought, but he knew if he said that, she’d bolt like a startled rabbit. “Let’s take one day at a time,” he said instead.

Or even one night at a time, he thought as he watched her worried face. Her absolute weariness concerned him. His first priority was to get her to sleep tonight.

The responsibility he’d taken on was growing heavier by the minute, he acknowledged bleakly. It seemed he had himself a wife in truth, as well as on paper.

At least she had a calm nature, he decided, trying to look on the brighter side. She wouldn’t disturb his bachelor existence much.

“I’ll try not to be too much trouble,” she whispered into the dark, as if she guessed his thoughts. “I never meant to do this to you.”

“I offered,” he said, and managed a smile. “Don’t be grateful, Jen. Just do what you need to do to survive and go from there.”

MICHAEL’S HOME couldn’t have been more different from Jenny’s. His multilevel town house was part of a new housing development built on a tree-lined avenue overlooking the bike trails by Town Lake.

Michael hit his remote control and the door of his garage slid silently up. The Corvette entered the garage, and the door slid closed behind them, and Jenny had the sensation of being trapped. Crazy or not, she had to suppress an impulse to get out, thump on the garage door and demand to be let out.

But Michael was holding open the door to his house, and she had nothing to do but walk inside.

And gasp.

His home was white!

Jenny stopped dead and stared around with astonishment. Of all the places she’d imagined Michael could live, this wasn’t it. This was no messy bachelor pad. The place was stark and coldly white, with the occasional splash of black for dramatic effect. White tiles, white chairs and sofa, white wood furniture with glass-topped tables to reflect the white tiles. White walls, with black and white prints on the walls. White drapes.

Michael put down the first load of her belongings and pulled the drapes wide. Outside was parkland and the river beyond. The lights of Austin were twinkling against the night sky. Gorgeous.

She turned to the room-and shuddered.

“Michael?”

“What’s wrong?”

“This room.” She gestured helplessly. “I can’t…”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t live here,” she said honestly. “I don’t think I can even stay here.”

“Why not?” He smiled at her. “It’s in better shape than your place. That was a real dump.”

“There’s no need to get personal.”

“But it was. Admit it.”

Her anger flared. “If we’re talking of dumps…”

“Are we?” He was watching the spark behind her green eyes. She came alive when she was angry.

She really was lovely.

“What’s wrong with this place?” he asked, and watched while she tried like crazy to be polite. And failed.

She took a deep breath. “Michael, it’s awful.”

“Oh, yeah? Who are we kidding here? Your place was awful. This place has serious money spent on it.”

“I can see that, and of all the wasteful-” She bit her lip, and Michael grinned. She was so transparent.

“Go on.”

“I’m too polite.”

“No. Come on, Jen.” He was enjoying this. “I’ve been honest about your place. You owe me the same.”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do.” She was fascinating. Her eyes were roving around the place as if she were mentally pulling it apart, and he could see her courage returning. “We’re married, remember? You’re going to have to show immigration officials around and admit you like living here.”

“You think I could do that in a million years?” she asked incredulously.

“Why not?”

“Oh, yeah, as if I could ever like white. I’d rather face Gloria again than admit I had anything to do with this place. Where do you relax?”

“I’m not here much.”

“I can see that. It looks like the photographer’s just left. But when you are here, where do you watch TV and drink beer?”

“Mostly I do my beer drinking at Garrett’s ranch,” he admitted.

“No wonder. It’s so cold here. Who decorated the place?”

“A woman I went out with.”

“How many times did you go out with her?” Jenny demanded, fixing him with a look. Michael stared at her. She was transforming in front of his eyes. This wasn’t the quiet Jenny he thought he’d married.

“Beats me. Twice, maybe.”

“She obviously didn’t know you. This isn’t decorating. This is a vacuum!” She went to the sofa and stared in disgust at its gorgeous white surface. “You don’t sit on this thing!”

“Of course I do.” He was stung.

“How often?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes.”

“Like never,” she said flatly. “I tell you, Michael, if you sat here now you’d leave a mark that’d take a chemical arsenal to remove. I bet your housekeeper has an awful job keeping it clean.”

He glared, cornered. “How do you know I have a housekeeper?”

“Hey, I just guessed.” She grinned. “Sherlock Holmes, that’s me. And I’ll bet she comes once a day. Or more. What’s her name?”

“I don’t…” Michael frowned. “What the heck does it matter what her name is? It’s an agency. Whoever’s available comes. I don’t know names.”

“Then that’s easy. Michael, you don’t really like this stuff, do you?”

Did he? He tried to find words to defend his decor, but they weren’t there to find. There was something about this woman that demanded honesty. “No, but…”

“Let me fix it for you.” Her eyes gleamed with challenge, and he found himself starting to laugh.

“Hey, I didn’t bring you here to work.”

“And there’s no way I’m sitting here idle. I’m scared to sit down. This stuff is the pits, and if I have to stay here for a month I’ll go nuts. You remember what I did with your office?”

Did he?

His office had been a bit like this, all chrome efficiency. Five months ago-it must have been about the time Jenny started-it was suddenly transformed. His glass desk was replaced by a vast antique wooden one, his swivel chair became old leather, the chrome disappeared, and someone painted the walls a dusky pink instead of gray.

He hadn’t realized she’d done it until now. He’d thought it was part of an office renovation ordered by Ellie. Come to think of it, though, it was a darn sight more comfortable place to work now than it had been before.

But… She was starting on his home?

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“There’s no problem.” She was staring at the furniture as if it were poison. “I’ll be able to sell these for heaps and replace them with items that are much more comfortable. You won’t even have to write a check.”

“Jen…”

She fixed him with a look, and for the first time he felt like a-like a husband! “Tell me that you like this stuff, and I won’t touch it.”

“I don’t like it, but…it’s home.”

“You watch TV at your brother’s.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Let me have carte blanche to fix this place, and I’ll feel happier living here. It’ll be a project for me.” She smiled at him, her most charming smile. It was a smile that made him blink. Made him take a step backward. “Please?”

“You haven’t even seen your bedroom yet. Maybe you won’t want to stay,” he said weakly, knowing he was defeated before he started.

“I don’t want to stay,” she said honestly, her eyes sparkling at the sound of defeat in his voice. She knew she’d won. “But if I must stay then I’ll be useful, and I’ll run replacements past you before I buy them. I’m not taking over your life, Michael. It’ll be your choice.”

“Hell, Jen.” He stared at her, baffled. He was so far at sea here he was almost drowning. That’s just how he did feel, as if his life were being taken over-by a tidal wave.

“You do what you want,” he said heavily, humor fading. “You’re my wife, so this is your home. Do what you want.”

HER BEDROOM was the most comfortable place in the house.

“Shelby stayed in it while her place was being redone,” Michael told her as he showed her in. Jenny had fallen silent again, and it was worrying him. It seemed there were two Jennys-the one who’d been kicked so many times it was hardly worth getting up again, and the stronger Jenny who was only allowed to escape for brief airings and then put firmly back in her box. “She added a few of her own touches.”

There was a bright patterned quilt on the bed, a floral print on the wall and a large framed photo on the bedside table. The picture showed a middle-aged couple, parental and proud, with their children. The two girls and the younger boy looked to be about four years old, and there was an older boy of about six.

There was no mistaking who they were. Michael’s grin, even then, was unique.

“I’d forgotten you’re a triplet,” Jenny exclaimed, finding her voice. “Who are the others?”

“That’s Lana sitting down. I gather you’ve met her. Shelby’s behind me and has my arm twisted behind my back-that’s because I was going through a phase of sticking my tongue out at the camera. Garrett’s the big guy.”

“They all live here? In Austin?” She frowned in concentration.

“Lana runs the baby shop, and Shelby owns Austin Eats Diner, next to the hospital. Garrett lives on his ranch a few miles out of town.”

Jenny was frowning. Something about the picture didn’t make sense.

“You all have red hair,” she said slowly. “But your parents don’t.”

“We were adopted.”

Something in his voice warned Jenny she shouldn’t take it further, but she was so far past exhaustion she didn’t pick up on it. “That’s right. You said your birth mother abandoned you. But your adoptive parents took all four of you? That’s wonderful.”

“They were wonderful people.”

“Were?”

“They died some time ago.”

“Oh, Michael, I’m sorry.” She hesitated. “And your birth parents?”

“I know nothing about them.” His voice was clipped and tight, but she was still too tired to pick up on it. “As I said, my birth mother abandoned us when we were babies.”

“You’ve never tried to trace her?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“It must be the most awful thing,” she said, her hands moving unconsciously to her stomach. “To give up your baby. And to give up four babies… It’d be like tearing yourself apart.”

“Not everyone feels like you do.”

“Maybe not.” Her eyes were clouded, doubtful. She obviously couldn’t see how anyone would feel different.

His birth mother had, Michael thought bitterly. She’d just walked away.

“There must have been some dreadful reason. It’d probably be easy enough to trace her-”

“Leave it, Jen,” he said roughly. “Let’s leave it.”

The force of his words took her by surprise, and she backed off. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

She was hurt. He could see in her eyes that she was flinching inside, wondering what she’d said. He hadn’t meant to snap.

“We’re both tired,” he said, a note of contrition in his voice. “Let’s turn in now. The guest bathroom’s just here. If there’s anything more you want…”

“No, thank you, Michael. You’ve done enough.” It was an odd, formal little speech and sounded wrong to both of them.

“I’ll go to bed then,” he said.

“Good night.”

Damn, she sounded so forlorn he wanted to take her in his arms and…

He didn’t know what. He just knew he had to get out of that room while he still had the strength to resist.

“Good night, then, Jenny. Sleep well.” And he walked out of her bedroom and closed the door so fast you’d think there were demons after him.