anyone about their plans to elope four years ago. Plans she hadn’t kept. “I already know where she was, Mrs. Timmons. I received photographs that were compliments of your husband, letting me know that he was still controlling Shiloh’s life. The photographs showed her on the beach having a good time with one of Mr. Timmons’s business associates. The same person he’d been trying to shove down her throat for a year or more. Your husband, Samuel Timmons, wanted me to know she’d finally caved in.”
Sandra Timmons frowned. “And you believed that?”
Caden shrugged. “Seeing is believing.”
The woman shook her head. “You saw what Samuel wanted you to see. Those photographs were altered with Photoshop. That was not Shiloh. She was nowhere near the beach that day.”
Caden stared at the woman as her words sank in. “Then where was she?”
Sandra Timmons eased back down on the chair across from his desk, and Caden actually saw her trembling. And then he saw the tears. Whether they were genuine or not, they were there all the same. “I came here thinking that you knew. Certain that you did, and now to know that you have no idea...”
An uneasy feeling crept up Caden’s spine. What did she mean that those photographs had been altered with Photoshop? That woman in the pictures had been Shiloh. Hadn’t it? He narrowed his gaze at Mrs. Timmons as he crossed the room to her, and anger consumed every part of his body. “Where...was...she?”
The woman dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, saying, “That same weekend, while you waited for her in Vegas, she was in a hospital in Boston, fighting for her life.”
Stunned, Caden grasped the edge of his desk to keep his balance. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Sandra Timmons lowered her face to study her hands in her lap before lifting a tear-streaked face to Caden. “I don’t know how, but Samuel found out what the two of you planned and flew to Boston to try to stop her. He said he was only going to talk some sense into her. They argued, and she asked him to leave. When he refused, she rushed from the house and darted into the path of an oncoming car.”
Shocked beyond belief, Caden had to lean back against his desk for support. “Shiloh was hit by a car?”
“Yes. Things were pretty bad. She had to remain in the hospital for almost two months. The doctors managed to save her...but they couldn’t save the baby.”
The bottom of Caden’s stomach dropped. “Baby?”
“Yes. She was pregnant with your child.”
Three
Caden remembered very little after that. He recalled that the shock of Sandra Timmons’s words had rendered him speechless, mindless and senseless. He’d been so stunned, so horrified by what he’d learned that he’d covered his face with his hands as an onslaught of emotions slammed into him. Shiloh had been pregnant? With their child? And when she had finally discovered the duplicity of her parents, she had come to him to tell him. And he had rejected her in a very cruel way.
He vaguely recalled hearing the sound of Mrs. Timmons walking softly toward his office door, whispering tearfully, “I’m truly sorry,” before opening the door and leaving. He recalled clutching his stomach and remembered feeling suddenly sick as he agonized over and over about what Shiloh’s mother had said.
He had believed the worst of her. If anyone should have recognized those pictures had been doctored, he should have. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had accused her of the worst betrayal possible, calling her degrading names. Names she hadn’t deserved.
And while he’d been indulging in his holier-than-thou attitude, she had been lying in some hospital room fighting for her life after losing their child.
Oh, God. The thought of her lying there in pain, hurting, brokenhearted, without him there to comfort her, filled him with anger. Intense rage. “Damn you, Samuel Timmons! Damn you!” he muttered under his breath with an alarming force because, at that moment, he knew how it felt to hate someone.
He thought he’d hated the man at fourteen, when he had ended his and Shiloh’s friendship, but now he knew how real revulsion felt. At thirteen, she had been afraid to go against her tyrant father’s orders; however, their friendship never really ended—it was just suspended. She would still smile at him whenever they passed in the halls at school, would silently slip birthday cards in his book bag and tape those you’re still my best bud notes on his locker. And then there was the time on prom night when they managed to slip away from the watchful eyes of the chaperones to steal a kiss in the garden.
Then he finished high school and left for college. But he had thought about her often, wondering what she was doing and if she was still under her father’s thumb. Had she broken free of him, now thinking for herself, living the full life she deserved?
He’d always thought about looking her up and he used to ask his grandfather about her during his visits home, but fear of what Samuel Timmons would do to her made him keep his distance.
He would never forget that night, six years ago, while onstage performing with his band, when he had looked out in the audience and had seen her. Shiloh was in her last year of college, and it was her birthday weekend. It had been years since he’d last seen her, but he had recognized her immediately. Gone was the kid he’d grown up with, the one who used to be his best pal, who would smile up at him through her braces. She had grown into a totally beautiful woman.
When the concert was over, he invited her backstage, and later they went to the after-party. When that party ended, he took her to a late-night restaurant for ice cream and cake to celebrate her twenty-third birthday. After that night, she would show up at his concerts whenever she could while working on her graduate degree at Northeastern University in Boston.
During his concerts he would search the audience, seeking her out, hoping to see her face. And then there was the night she had gone back to his hotel room with him after a concert and they’d made love. Wonderful, beautiful love, and he’d known that night that he loved her and that he had always loved her.
For two years, they’d kept their affair a secret from everyone and planned to elope to Vegas. She was supposed to meet him in Vegas that weekend, and once the ceremony was over they would fly to Paris for a brief honeymoon.
But she hadn’t shown up that weekend. He had waited in that hotel room for three days; he had tried calling her. When he finally made a connection at one of her numbers, some man had answered her phone and said she was in the shower and couldn’t be bothered.
He had just been about to leave, to fly to Boston to find out what the hell was going on, when he’d received a special delivery packet—a packet containing pictures that were still imprinted on his brain. He had taken one look at them and, combined with the conversation with the man who had answered her phone, he had immediately assumed the worst.
Caden moved away from his desk and walked to the window, a deep self-loathing within himself for the way he had treated Shiloh after that. He hadn’t heard from her for more than three months after receiving those photographs, and now he knew why.
Believing the worst, he had deleted her number from his contact list and blocked any calls from her. Even when she’d shown up at one of his concerts eight months later, he’d asked Security to escort her out. He hadn’t wanted her there.
She hadn’t attended
