Who's The Daddy?. Judy Christenberry
He said her telephone number, and Caroline smiled as Max took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote it down on one of his business cards. His sexy grin was her thank-you.
“I’m not sure that was wise, Caroline,” Prescott said, echoing her father’s earlier warning.
“I may not remember too much about my past, but I know I don’t like people bossing me around, whoever I am. If you know me well, Prescott, you must already be aware of that trait.”
During their conversation, the nurse had pushed the flower cart out the door and returned with a wheelchair. “Is she ready, Doctor?”
“I believe she is. She may not be up to full fighting weight just yet, but I think she can handle this crew,” Dr. Johansen said with a smile at Caroline. “I suspect you’ve already seen a doctor about your pregnancy, but if not, set up an appointment as soon as possible. And let me know if the headache doesn’t gradually diminish.”
“Gradually?” she protested.
“I’m afraid so, Caroline. Don’t get too agitated for a while. Rest and sleep. That’s the cure.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He excused himself and the nurse pushed the wheelchair to her side and then took her arm. “Okay, lean on me. On the count of three, we’ll move to the chair.”
Caroline would have preferred Max’s help, but if she asked for it, Prescott would probably knock both of them over trying to reach her first. She stood and stepped over to the wheelchair. A sudden hand on her other arm needed no identification. The responsive surge of attraction told her it was Max. She smiled up at him once she was settled. “Thanks.”
“I would’ve helped. You should’ve asked me,” Prescott complained.
She almost groaned aloud. If Prescott was the father of her baby, she could expect a whiner and probably the biggest brownnoser in existence. What a depressing thought.
“Well, let’s be on our way,” her father said abruptly, swinging around to the door. His two satellites fell into step behind him.
Caroline wasn’t quite ready. She wanted an excuse to touch Max one more time. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Thank you for the daisies.”
He took her hand in his. “My pleasure.” Then he leaned down and briefly caressed her lips with his. Her pulse throbbed. Good thing she was going to get some rest before she saw him again. Otherwise, she just might explode with all the excitement.
As if realizing something had occurred behind their backs, the other three men turned and stared at the two of them.
“Are you coming, Caroline?” James demanded.
“Yes, I’m right behind you, Dad,” she answered, a smile on her face for Max Daniels. He remained in the room as the nurse pushed her out, her daisies clutched to her chest.
DAMN. Max stood alone in the hospital room and drew a deep breath. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But he hadn’t been able to resist. Even as pale as she was this morning, with a bruise on her forehead, Caroline was beautiful.
He’d only had two short weeks with her, but he’d missed her every day since she’d gone. Even though he called himself all kinds of a fool for still wanting her.
The two weeks they’d spent together seemed like a dream now, with a nightmare ending when she disappeared. He’d already been making plans for their future together. Plans that were aborted when she left.
She’d told him she was from Kansas City and had just moved to Denver. At first, she’d said she was looking for a job. He’d offered to introduce her to the interior design firms he used, had even told her who to contact. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized she’d never looked for a job.
Hell, he hadn’t given her time. He’d spent every moment he could with her. He couldn’t leave her alone. And he’d been making plans to keep her with him forever.
And now that he’d discovered she was an heiress, he knew they had no future together. Even if the baby was his. Her father wasn’t going to let her marry him. Not when there were two superstar executives waiting with open arms.
Max wasn’t even sure why he still wanted her. After all, everything she’d told him was a lie. Now he understood the old saying, ignorance is bliss. Those two weeks had certainly been blissful.
But if their two weeks had resulted in a baby, his baby, then he refused to be pushed out of the picture. He would not abandon his own child.
He shook himself from his misery. Feeling sorry for himself had never been his style. Instead, he formulated a plan and set about changing his circumstances.
Maybe that was what had frustrated him so about Caroline. He’d followed every lead he’d had, but he’d discovered nothing about her.
He reached the outer door of the hospital just in time to see a white limo pull away from the hospital. At least this time he had her telephone number. Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.
“WAIT!” PRESCOTT CALLED to the driver as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Please don’t shout.”
“But we’ve forgotten your flowers. That damned nurse probably thought she could get away with stealing them. Turn around and go back.”
“No!” Caroline contradicted. “Take us home, Lewis.”
The chauffeur, much to Caroline’s satisfaction, obeyed her.
“Caroline!” her father exclaimed. “How did you know?”
“What?” Her head hurt so much. She wasn’t sure she could remain upright until they reached the house.
“His name. You knew his name.”
“You must have said it,” she replied, frowning, trying to think.
“No, I didn’t. Your memory is returning!” he exclaimed happily. “That’s wonderful. I’ll give that doctor a bonus. Now,” he said, pausing to lean toward her, “which of these gentlemen is the father of your baby?”
Immediately the headache increased.
“I haven’t gotten my memory back. I don’t know how I knew his name.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m in so much pain.”
“And I don’t understand about the flowers. Didn’t you like them?” Prescott grumbled.
“They were lovely. But there were so many of them I asked the nurse to distribute them to others who weren’t going home. It seemed like the generous thing to do.”
“It was, and just like you, Caroline,” Adrian said as he smiled at her.
“Was it?” she asked coolly, leery of his friendliness. She decided his gray eyes were cold, even if his lips were smiling. And who knew if he was telling the truth? All she knew about herself so far was that she liked her own way, hated headaches, was pregnant, and apparently didn’t mind sleeping with more than one man.
That couldn’t be true. She never liked to share. In high school, her boyfriend had thought he could date her and her best friend at the same time. She’d shown him.
Another memory. She clutched it to her like a precious jewel. But when she tried to extend that grasp on the past, searching for other memories, she drew a blank. Frustration filled her.
“If you were so generous with the roses, why are you still holding those?” Prescott complained, gesturing to the daisies.
“Because I like them.”
He turned to glare at her father. “You said roses!” he accused. He sounded like a little boy, but his thinning hair showed him