Nathan's Child - By Anne McAllister Page 0,2

all a mistake! She’d loved him body, heart and soul—and he’d simply disappeared.

Nathan hadn’t been there to help her tell Dominic she couldn’t marry him. And he hadn’t been there nine months later when the fruit of that one night of lovemaking—their daughter, Lacey—had been born.

He was here now, Carin knew, only because Dominic had gone home last autumn and told him about Lacey.

And he’d certainly taken his own sweet time to show up!

Marry him?

She wouldn’t have him on a plate.

“No,” she said again when he kept standing there as if he was waiting for her to rethink her answer. “Thank you,” she added with icy politeness. For nothing.

For a split second Nathan’s hard gaze flickered uncertainly. “I would have come sooner,” he said gruffly, “if you’d bothered to tell me.”

Carin almost snorted. “As if you’d have wanted to know.”

They glared at each other. She was gratified when he looked away first.

“What I wanted didn’t matter,” he said irritably. “I’d have been here if you’d told me.”

“You left. Or had you forgotten?”

“You were engaged to my brother!”

“And I’d just made love with you! For God’s sake, Nathan, did you honestly think I was going to turn around two days later and marry someone else?”

“How the hell did I know? You were planning to,” he argued. “That’s what you were there for. You never said you weren’t.”

“You didn’t give me a chance! You practically bolted out of the bed. Then you went running around the house, throwing your stuff in a bag and babbling about what a mistake it had been!”

A deep-red flush suffused Nathan’s face. He picked up one of Turk’s paperweights, turned it over and over in his hands, then slammed it down and began to pace in front of the counter.

“Okay,” he said at last, “I didn’t handle it well. It was a new experience for me. I didn’t make a habit of sleeping with my brother’s fiancées.” He turned and leveled a gaze at her. “I didn’t know the protocol.”

“I don’t think there is protocol,” Carin said quietly, meeting his gaze levelly. “I think there’s just honesty.”

The muscle ticked in his temple again. He rocked back on his heels and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Ok. Fine. Let’s be honest.” His voice was harsh. “It was great, but it was wrong. You were engaged, damn it, and not to me! I felt like a heel afterward, and I thought it was in everybody’s best interest if I disappeared.”

“Is that what you thought?” Carin said with saccharine sweetness. “You thought I’d just forget?”

“I didn’t know what the hell you’d do. I barely knew you!”

“You knew me better than anyone in the world.”

She’d been so vulnerable that week before the wedding. She’d been so worried. And she’d found in Nathan the kindred spirit she’d always hoped for. She’d poured out her feelings to him—and he didn’t believe he’d known her!

Nathan raked his hand through his hair. “I didn’t know what you’d do. But believe me, I was shocked as hell to come back to New York five months later and discover you’d jilted my brother and no one knew where you were!”

“You asked?”

“Yes, damn it, I asked.”

“And they said they didn’t know, and you left it at that.” She said the words scornfully.

“What was I supposed to do? You didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to press the issue. Your whereabouts wasn’t Dominic’s favorite topic of conversation.”

She could believe that. She’d felt guilty for years. Still did. “So, fine. You didn’t know where I was. You should have left it at that.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, I didn’t go anywhere. I was here all the time.”

“Hiding out.” Nathan said the words dismissively.

“I wasn’t hiding out!” she retorted, stung.

“Right. Sent out cards with your forwarding address, did you?”

She looked away.

“And I’m sure all your old friends from Smith and St. Gertrudis or wherever it was you went to school know exactly where you are now. Your father didn’t even know!”

“My father didn’t want to know.”

“What?”

“I called him a week after…after…the wedding didn’t…happen. I wanted to explain.” It was her turn to shrug now, to act casual, to pretend that what had happened then didn’t still hurt. But sadly, whether she wanted to admit it or not, it did. “He didn’t want to listen. He told me I was no daughter of his. And then he hung up on me.”

“Jesus!” Nathan looked shocked. He paced halfway down the aisle