Secrets Of An Old Flame. Jill Limber
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As soon as he left, she was leaving herself. She had an appointment with the attorney.
“I’m concerned about my son’s safety.” His tone was cold. “Stop acting like a spoiled child.”
My son. He sounded so possessive it frightened her. What if he did try to take Michael away from her? “I want you to get out.”
“I don’t care what you want.” He cut her off. “Michael’s safety is my only interest here.”
His only interest. Nikki felt an irrational sting of emotion that she wasn’t included in his concern, then chided herself for even noticing. She took a deep breath. “I don’t—”
Rudely Joe raised his hand and cut her off again, infuriating her.
They stared at each other for several heartbeats before Joe spoke. “You didn’t answer my question last night. Who knew you were coming back?”
She hesitated for a long moment before she spoke. Lord, she wanted to ignore him, but she knew he wouldn’t go away until he got the answers he wanted. The man had the tenacity of a pit bull.
“My father’s attorney. He contacted a federal judge to obtain permission from the court so I could stay here. I don’t know which judge.”
“Why did you come back?” he asked, his accusing tone making her feel like one of his suspects.
She refused to tell him anything about her personal life. He didn’t need to know how very vulnerable she was right now.
“To tie up some loose ends.” Michael squirmed and stuck out his lower lip, then began to suck on his fist. She knew the signs of hunger. He’d be wailing in a minute.
“What loose ends?” He stared at her intently.
“What I do is none of your business,” she spit back at him. He reminded her of a predator looking for signs of weakness.
He opened his mouth to ask another question and Nikki put her hands up, signaling an end to their conversation. “I need to change the baby’s diaper and feed him. I thought you said you were leaving.”
He shrugged into his jacket. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep the doors locked.” He said, ignoring her demand that he not return.
Why did he want her to lock the doors, she thought sourly. Locks didn’t keep the housebreakers out last night or Joe out this morning. She reasoned she was safer leaving for her appointment than she was staying home.
Agreeing to nothing, she said, “Close the door.”
She turned her back on him and busied herself unzipping the baby’s sleeper.
Behind her the door closed and she fought down the irrational urge to throw something at it. Damn the man. He could bring out the worst in her without even breaking a sweat.
After changing and nursing her son, she put the sleepy baby back to bed. He’d nap for at least an hour, giving her a chance to get ready.
Nikki took a shower and dressed for the day in a blue silk business suit two years out of date. It was the best she could do. Her wardrobe was the last thing she could afford to spend money on now.
She gave herself a critical once-over in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. The skirt length was wrong, but the fabric was quality and the lines classic, even though the skirt hung loosely and the jacket fit too tightly over her fuller breasts.
She knew the value of a professional appearance. She had too much pride to go to her father’s attorney, Fielder Carey, looking desperate. She could only hope he would agree to help her without asking for a retainer.
The Walker family’s credit rating had slipped so far she had her doubts he would agree to delayed payment.
For good measure she damned Joe again for further complicating her life as she headed down the stairs. Even without him she already had as much on her plate as she could handle.
Needing coffee and something to eat, Nikki went through the dining room and butler’s pantry into the kitchen.
Joe had left her a fresh pot of coffee. The sight of the full carafe brought back bittersweet memories of a year ago. Of coming downstairs when Joe had spent the night to find fresh coffee, a note, and sometimes a flower from the garden.
Usually he’d left for work before she’d awakened. He knew how she struggled to wake up in the mornings and always made sure he left coffee waiting.
His thoughtfulness about little things had drawn her to him. She’d been so needy, feeling frightened, deserted and unloved at her father’s disappearance. She’d clung to him like a fool, too desperate to see he was using her to get to her father.
In those few weeks she’d thought she’d fallen in love with him. Emotions threatened to swamp her, and she reached to turn on the television and drown them out.
The audio came on first with a description of a home invasion robbery. Legs shaking, she slid onto a stool at the counter. As the screen resolved into a clear picture of her home, she put her head down on the counter and tried not to cry, longing for the anonymity of the small town in Canada where she’d lived with her aunt and awaited Michael’s birth.
Nikki lifted her head and stared at the perky bright-eyed newswoman intent on bringing everyone up to date on current events, as well as handing out reminders of last year’s scandal.
It was like having someone tear the scab off a half-healed wound.
The nightmare was never going to go away. Naively she’d hoped the media would consider the break-in last night too trivial to air, and the murder, the missing M. Raymond Walker and his millions old news, not worth a mention.
So much for quietly returning home. This latest incident would only make it harder to convince the court she knew nothing about her father’s disappearance.
Nikki laid her head back down on the counter, fighting the urge to go back upstairs, crawl into bed and pull the covers up over her head.
Chapter 3
Nikki left the stroller in a corner and stood in the reception area of the law firm of Richards, Carey and White. She held Michael and took slow deep breaths to settle the flutter of nerves in her midsection.
She’d been in contact with Mr. Carey during the past year, but she hadn’t told him about the baby.
Michael’s coos sounded loud in the hushed atmosphere of rich walnut paneling, leather chairs and Oriental rugs. She shifted her infant son to cover the spot on her jacket where he’d spit up during the bus ride downtown.
Fielder Carey, tall and handsome with silver-gray hair and conservative suit, strode toward her, his step faltering only slightly when his eyes traveled from her face to the baby she held.
“Nikki, dear, it’s so good to see you. I was worried about you after I heard about last night.”
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