The Doctor's Secret Child. Catherine Spencer
cut out your heart.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he’d done the latter eleven years before without benefit of medical expertise, but his ego was inflated enough. “Thank you, but no. Ariel’s sitting with my mother and I don’t want to leave her alone any longer than I have to.”
“You can spare another half hour,” he said. “It’s going to take that long to sort out what we’re going to do about your mom anyway, and I’m talking about a quick sandwich somewhere, not a seven-course dinner at Le Caveau.”
As if a man of his fine lineage would ever take a woman from Wharf Street to Le Caveau! The most exclusive restaurant for miles around didn’t even hire people from there, let alone welcome them as guests.
He scooped the phone across the desk toward her. “If you’re worried about Ariel and Hilda, give Alice Livingston a call and ask her to keep an eye on them. She stops in every day around this time anyway with a bowl of soup or something for your mom.”
“I’d rather have my teeth pulled!”
He treated her to another grin. “Don’t tell me you’ve already locked horns with her, as well!”
“We’ve yet to come face-to-face since I got back, but it’s a foregone conclusion that when we do, it won’t be a happy reunion. And she won’t be dropping off soup or anything else, come to that. I left Ariel with strict instructions not to open the door to anyone.”
“So she and Hilda are waiting for you to go home and make lunch?”
He’d handed her the perfect opening to decline his invitation, but what was the point of lying when this meeting had to take place sooner, rather than later? “No. I left sandwiches and milk in case I was delayed getting back. Ariel will make sure neither she nor my mother starves.”
“Isn’t that child a bit young to left with so much responsibility?”
“She’s ten—”
“Ten?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “That must mean she—”
“T…ten times more capable than girls nearly twice her age.” Shaking inside, Molly tacked on the qualifier, aghast at how close she’d come to endangering the one secret she was most committed to protect. Oh, the pitfalls of deceit! “And I always keep my cell phone turned on when I’m not home, so she knows she can get in touch any time.”
“You make it sound as if you leave her alone often.”
“No, I don’t! Not that it’s any of your business, but if she needs to call me from school or a friend’s house or something, and I happen to be out…” She trailed into silence, aware that she sounded far too defensive for a woman supposedly confident of her parenting skills.
As if he’d noticed the same thing, he regarded her thoughtfully a moment and she tensed, waiting for another probing observation. But in the end, he merely rose out of the chair and said, “In that case, there’s no reason at all we can’t have lunch while we talk about your mom’s case, is there?”
There’s every reason in the world! she thought. Time spent with you is like walking a tightrope and knowing there’s no safety net waiting to catch me if I trip and fall!
And trip she surely would, unless she wrestled her runaway emotions under control. But he seemed determined to thwart her at every turn. “Watch your step,” he ordered, taking her arm as they approached the intersection of Fundy Street, Harmony Cove’s main road. “It’s slippery underfoot and you won’t be much use to your mom if you slip and break an ankle.”
She wore enough clothes to keep out the cold but not, it seemed, enough to stop the warmth from his hand creeping through the layers of her sweater and coat. Or was it just proximity to the only man who’d ever touched her deepest passions that sent awareness flushing over her skin like the kiss of the summer sun?
“I’m quite capable of crossing the street unaided,” she said.
“Not in those boots you’re not,” he informed her cheerfully. “You need to get yourself something a bit more serviceable if you’re going to be here more than a day or two. How long are you planning to stick around, by the way?”
“As long as my mother needs me, of course.”
“That could mean indefinitely, Molly. Are you really prepared to make that kind of sacrifice?”
“Yes,” she said, too focused on the fact that he hadn’t let go of her arm, even though they were now safely across the road and walking on bare, dry pavement again, to notice the trap he’d set.
He noticed, though, and didn’t pass up the chance to shove her face-first into it. “But what about your husband, my dear? If you were my wife, I can’t say I’d be too thrilled at being left to fend for myself while you travel to the other end of the country to play nursemaid to the mother-in-law I’ve never met.”
“That’s one reason you’re not my husband,” she said, congratulating herself on having sidestepped his question rather neatly. “You didn’t measure up to my expectations.”
“And the other reason of course being that I didn’t volunteer for the job.” As if he hadn’t rattled her nerves to breaking point already, he added injury to insult by marching her down a side lane and strong-arming her through the door to the one place guaranteed to unravel her completely. “In you go, sweet thing. The waitresses aren’t as fetching as some I used to know, but The Ivy Tree still makes the best club sandwiches in town.”
It was like being thrust on stage to reprise a role she hadn’t played in years. Everything was familiar, except the script. Panic closing in on her thicker than an Atlantic fog in November, she swung around, bent only on escape, and came smack up against the unyielding wall of his chest with such force that she almost fell.
Clawing blindly at his jacket, she struggled to maintain her balance along with her composure. Would have given ten years off her life to toss out some flippant remark that might fool him into believing this particular café was no different from any other. And could manage nothing more than a breathless, “Oops! I caught my heel in the welcome mat.”
“I told you those boots were useless,” he said.
Not entirely! Aimed in a kick at the right place, they could do substantial damage to a man, and the smug grin which accompanied his latest remark left Dan Cordell in grave danger of discovering that fact for himself.
Unaware of how close he’d come to limiting his potential for producing future heirs, he caught the attention of the hostess and inveigled her into seating them at a fireside table ahead of two other couples who’d been eyeing it. Molly supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t wanted the booth by the window to which she’d been assigned when she worked there.
“Club sandwiches and coffee for two,” he told the middle-aged waitress who waddled over to take their order.
“Make mine a spinach salad,” Molly said, determined to assert her independence before her entire life spun so far beyond her control she’d never be able to rein it in again, “with tea.”
“Sugar and cream?” the waitress inquired, scribbling on her pad.
“Just lemon, please.”
“The works for me, Charlene,” Dan said. “I need all the sweetening I can get.”
Charlene, who had to be all of fifty if she was a day, giggled like a schoolgirl and slapped his arm playfully. “Oh, Doctor!”
“How do you do it?” Molly asked him, when they were alone again.
He glanced up from contemplating his short, immaculately clean nails. “Do what?” he said, all blue-eyed innocence.
Innocent as a wolf on the prowl!
“As if you don’t know,” she scoffed. “That woman’s well past the age where she’s taken in by