but he’d zeroed in on another face, another person. The man he’d driven a hundred miles to confront.
“Where’s Robert MacAllister?” Andrew said gruffly.
Kara frowned. “You don’t exactly seem in a party mood, Mr…. I don’t believe you mentioned your name.”
“It’s Malone. Andrew Malone.”
“Well, Mr. Malone, please allow me to welcome you to the final event of the week-long MacAllister reunion,” Kara said, smiling again.
Andrew nodded absently.
“But since you were invited to this shindig by Uncle Robert, you no doubt know that we MacAllisters have been on the go since Christmas. It’s been exhausting but wonderful, with so many special memories. We wanted to share this last night of the reunion with our friends.”
Good grief, she was babbling, Kara thought, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment stain her cheeks. What on earth was the matter with her? She was actually chattering like a magpie to keep Andrew Malone standing right where he was, instead of delivering him to his host the way she should.
She didn’t do things like this. She didn’t act like a giddy girl when in the presence of a good-looking man. Well, in all fairness to herself Andrew Malone was the best-looking man, bar none, she’d ever encountered in her entire thirty years but still…She really had to get a grip.
“Would you follow me please, Mr. Malone?” Kara said, with a sweep of one arm.
Andrew nodded, then fell into step behind Kara as she made her way through the maze of tables. His glance slid along Kara’s back, and a jolt of heat slammed through him as he saw the sway of her hips and the way the soft material of her dress clung enticingly to her feminine curves.
Damn it, Malone, he fumed. She’s a MacAllister.
Kara stopped, nearly causing Andrew to bump into her. She looked up at him and smiled.
“You’re in luck,” she said. “Uncle Robert and Aunt Margaret are heading back to their table from the buffet. I guess the others seated with them must be filling their plates. There’s Uncle Robert over there. See?”
Andrew’s heart thundered and a trickle of sweat ran down his chest.
There he was, he thought. Robert MacAllister. It was hard to believe that the man was only a few feet away and coming closer with every passing second.
He was much more dynamic in person than in the newspaper picture. He looked taller, his gray hair thicker, shoulders wider, and there was no sign of a belly inching over his belt. His suit was obviously expensive, custom-tailored, and he had brown eyes and an even tan.
Yes, there he was, in living, breathing color.
Robert and Margaret MacAllister reached the table, and Robert set down his plate to assist Margaret with her chair. She settled into place and spread her napkin on her lap.
“Uncle Robert?” Kara said before he had a chance to sit down.
“Oh, hello, Kara,” he said, smiling. “Are you having a nice time this evening?”
“Delightful, thank you,” she said. “I’m the meeter and greeter of the moment, and I’ve brought one of your guests to you so you can say hello.” She glanced up at Andrew, then back at her uncle.
Robert frowned as he looked at Andrew. “My guest? I’m sorry, but Kara must have misunderstood you. I don’t believe you and I have met.”
“We haven’t,” Andrew said, his gaze riveted on Robert where he stood on the opposite side of the table.
“But you told me that…” Kara started, obviously confused.
“I said I was here to see Robert MacAllister,” Andrew said, not looking at Kara. “I didn’t say that he’d invited me.”
“You crashed this party?” Kara said, planting her hands on her hips. “Of all the nerve. Are you a reporter? Is that it?”
“No,” Andrew said, “I’m not a reporter.”
“Then what do you want?” Kara said.
“Kara,” Robert said, “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why Mr….”
“Malone. Andrew Malone,” Andrew said.
“Why Mr. Malone has come here,” Robert said. “Would you care to clue us in, young man?”
“I’m here,” Andrew said, a muscle jumping along his jaw, “because it’s time. In fact, it’s long overdue.” He reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper, which he tossed onto the table. “That picture made up my mind for me.”
Margaret retrieved the paper and opened it. “This is the group picture of our family that was in the newspaper a few days ago.”
“I don’t understand,” Robert said, frowning. “What does that photograph have to do with your arriving here uninvited, Mr. Malone?”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell?” Andrew said. “Malone? It doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Robert said thoughtfully. “Should it?”
“I suppose not,” Andrew said, a rough tone to his voice. “It didn’t mean anything then, so why should it now?”
“Look, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Robert said. “I have no idea why you’re here, but this is a private party and—”
“For family only,” Andrew said. “I know. That’s why I’m here. You forgot to send me my invitation. The name Malone doesn’t ring a bell? Okay, try this one. Sally Malone. Sally. Does that conjure up any memories, Robert? A summer a long time ago? An innocent young girl who fell in love with you? Hey, come on, Robert, surely you remember Sally.”
The color drained from Robert’s face as he stared at Andrew.
“Sally Malone,” Robert said, hardly above a whisper. “I’d forgotten all about her.”
“No joke,” Andrew said, with a bitter sharp bark of laughter. “You forgot about her the minute she was out of your sight. But she never forgot you, Robert. That would have been really tough to do, considering her circumstances. Oh, no, she never forgot you.”
“Robert, what is going on?” Margaret said. “Who is Sally Malone?”
“My mother,” Andrew said, taking a step closer to the table. “My mother, who died when I was fifteen years old. My mother, who had your baby after you abandoned her that summer, MacAllister. Let me introduce myself again. I’m Andrew Malone. Your son.”
“What?” Kara said.
“Robert?” Margaret said, a frantic edge to her voice. “What is he saying? What does this mean?”
“My God,” Robert said, his gaze riveted on Andrew. “You’re…oh…oh…pain…I…”
