he stood watching the woman and child. With the strange warmth came a sense of fulfillment, of completeness, a startling realization that he had finally discovered what was missing in his life.
A wife. A soul mate. A partner. And a baby created with that woman, who would have vowed to stay by his side until death parted them.
That was what he wanted, needed, and he hadn’t even known it.
He was tired of being a solitary man who came home to an empty apartment each night, having no one to talk to, to share with, to sleep close to in his big bed.
He wanted for his own what he was seeing beyond this nursery window.
But as the realization of his wants, his needs, really hit home, the warmth within Andrew was shoved roughly aside by a bone-deep chill.
He splayed one hand on the nursery window, feeling the hard surface, the wall that stood between him and what was within.
And the same was true of his heart. While still a teenager, he’d vowed that he would never love, never render himself vulnerable, be at the mercy of another who had the power to shatter his hopes and dreams. He would not be a victim of love as his mother had been.
If a woman he was dating began to make overtures about a permanent relationship or declared her love for him, as had happened on several occasions in the past, he ended things quickly, in a state of near panic as he registered a sense of being smothered, caught in a web he might not be able to escape.
The wall around his heart was as solid as the glass separating him from the babies, from the mother and child he could see in the shadows.
And he had no intention of lowering that wall. Not ever.
Andrew stiffened as the woman inside the nursery rose from the chair and disappeared into a deeper shadow beyond his view.
He should leave, he supposed. He had no business standing here in the middle of the night—he might frighten that mother when she came out of the nursery. But he just wanted to see her for a second, mentally thank her for revealing to him the truth about himself that he hadn’t known, the inner yearning he would now be aware of and be on even greater guard against. He would do that in his mind while he bid her a happy New Year.
He heard a door open, then close, then the click of high-heeled shoes on the tile floor. He turned in the direction the sound was coming from along the side of the nursery, prepared to greet the mother from the shadows.
Andrew’s heart thundered as Kara MacAllister came around the corner.
Chapter 2
Kara stopped so suddenly when she saw Andrew Malone standing before her that she teetered slightly, then steadied herself. She narrowed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
“I’m not following you, if that’s what is going through your mind,” Andrew said, frowning. “I was restless and went for a walk, that’s all.”
“I don’t mean here,” Kara said, flinging one hand in the direction of the nursery window. “I’m referring to your being in this hospital. How dare you come here after what you did?”
“It’s because of what I did that I’m here,” Andrew said, his voice rising. “I need to know that Robert MacAllister is going to be all right.”
“Your needs, Mr. Malone, are very low on my priority list. I want you to leave, and as you’re exiting the premises, keep your voice down if you speak to anyone. This is a hospital, you know.”
“You may be on staff at this hospital, Dr. MacAllister,” Andrew said, “but you don’t own it. You don’t have the authority to toss me out. I have every intention of staying put until Robert…” His voice trailed off.
“Until Robert what?” Kara said, shifting her hands to her hips. “Either dies or it’s determined by his doctors that he’ll live? Will that take care of your unfinished business so you can be on your way?”
“Look, I—”
“Oh, do tell me, Mr. Malone, because the suspense is more than I can bear. Which way are you voting? Do you want Uncle Robert to live? Or die? Which of those will meet your ever-so-important needs?”
“That’s enough,” Andrew said, his jaw tightening. “I never intended for anything like this to happen. How could I have known it would? I just wanted…” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m not even going to attempt to explain it to you in the frame of mind you’re in. You hate me. That’s coming across loud and clear.”
“Hating you would take more of my emotional energy than you’re worth,” Kara said. “But I truly despise you. How could you have done such a horrible thing? It was a family celebration and…My God, Andrew Malone, you’re more of a MacAllister than I am, and you came to that party and…” She stopped speaking as her throat closed from the ache of unshed tears.
“What do you mean I’m more of a MacAllister than you are?” Andrew said.
Kara waved a hand in the air, dismissing Andrew’s question.
“I owe the MacAllisters my life,” she said. “But you’d better think about this, Malone. If what you claim is true about what happened between Robert and your mother all those years ago, you owe your life to a MacAllister, too.
“If it wasn’t for that summer you made reference to at the restaurant, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t even exist. As far as I’m concerned, that would be preferable to the person you are.”
“I—”
Tears brimmed Kara’s eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to be anywhere near you after what you did to my uncle Robert tonight. You are the most despicable man I have ever had the misfortune to meet.”
As tears spilled onto Kara’s cheeks, she spun around and hurried away.
“You’re right,” Andrew said quietly as Kara disappeared from view. “Despicable? Ah, beautiful Kara, I can come up with a lot worse than that to describe me and what I did at that party.”
Andrew sighed and shook his head. He looked at the nursery window again, attempting to recapture the fleeting sense of peace he’d had, the inner warmth and completeness, but it remained beyond his emotional reach.
He started slowly down the hallway, suddenly aware of how exhausted he was, how totally drained. Entering a waiting room that beckoned with the glow of a small lamp, he slouched into a chair, rested his head on the back and stared up at the ceiling.
If only…he thought. No, forget it. There was no purpose to be served by starting an “if only” list. But damn it, if only Clara, his drunk and bitter aunt Clara, hadn’t shown up at his door with that newspaper in her hand.
He’d been sweaty, dirty and tired to the bone when Clara had arrived that night. He’d spent the day working with his men, instead of doing the suit-and-tie portion of his business, which was more the norm.
He hadn’t slept well the previous night,
