The Billionaire's Son. Sharon Hartley

you think it would be better if you left without him knowing?” Trey said. “He might get upset.”

      “But what will he do when he learns I’m gone?”

      “He’s with his therapist. Dr. Carico will handle any problems.”

      “Better to make a clean break,” she said with a nod, echoing his earlier thoughts.

      “I’m glad you agree.”

      Trey accompanied her to the foyer, and they stepped outside where Hans waited beside the limo.

      “Thanks again,” Trey said.

      “Sure.” Kelly hurried down the steps with a backward wave. She bent over to enter the limo when a blur dashed past him.

      “Mommy,” Jason shrieked.

      Trey reached for his son but missed.

      Out of breath, Dr. Carico appeared beside Trey. “He wanted me to meet her. He really believes this woman is his mother.”

      Trey watched in horror as Jason threw his arms around Kelly’s legs, surprising her, knocking her off balance again.

      But she recovered without falling, and knelt to speak with him.

      Trey and Dr. Carico hurried down the steps.

      “I’m so sorry,” Dr. Carico told Kelly.

      “Come on, buddy,” Trey said. “Mommy has got to go.”

      Sobbing, Jason buried his face in Kelly’s shoulder and clasped his hands around her neck. “Take me with you, Mommy,” he pleaded. “Please.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      MURMURING SOOTHING SOUNDS, Kelly placed the still-sobbing Jason back in his airplane bed. She knelt, not letting go of his warm sticky fingers. Dr. Carico moved beside them and quickly administered an injection into his upper arm. The child didn’t react to the prick of the needle.

      “He’ll be out soon,” the doctor said softly.

      Kelly nodded, her attention focused on the child, stroking damp hair away from his flushed face. Unbearably sad blue eyes stared into hers. Poor little dude.

      “Don’t go,” he whispered.

      “I’m right here,” Kelly said.

      He heaved a sigh, closed his eyes and within a minute or two his breathing grew steady. He didn’t rouse when she released his hand.

      Feeling older than her sergeant, she came to her feet and faced Carico who stared at her now sleeping patient with a worried frown.

      “Maybe I should have sedated him earlier, but he seemed fine.”

      “He’s fine until I leave his sight,” Kelly said. “Now what?”

      “He’ll sleep the rest of the night.”

      “Will his head be straight when he wakes up in the morning?”

      Carico met Kelly’s gaze. “I don’t know.”

      “At least you admit it.” Kelly looked away from the question in Carico’s probing gaze. What did these people expect her to do? Sure, she felt bad for the little dude—the kid was in a very bad place—but she wasn’t anybody’s mother. And she had a career to get back to.

      “Let’s go downstairs and talk to Trey,” Carico suggested.

      Kelly followed the doctor down the elegant stairs, across the marbled living room into the dining room where Wentworth and his lawyer pal sat at the massive glass banquet table deep in conversation. Lunch had been cleared, but they each held a graceful crystal glass full of red wine. An array of cheese and crackers worthy of being on a magazine cover sat between them, along with the open wine bottle.

      Well, it’s five o’clock somewhere.

      With a start, she realized it was after 6:00 p.m. Where had the time gone? The sun would soon set on the most surreal day of her life. Not the most frightening, but definitely the strangest.

      Wentworth glared at her with an expression so full of resentment she squared her shoulders. Did the jerk blame her for this fiasco? Geez. Like it was her fault Jason preferred a stranger’s comfort to his father’s.

      “How is Jason?” Wentworth asked.

      “Asleep,” Carico said. “And he’ll stay that way the rest of the night.”

      “Good.” Wentworth nodded. “Would you like some wine?”

      “No,” Carico replied as she seated herself. “Thanks, but I have a meeting later that I can’t miss.” Glancing at her watch, she added, “In fact, I’ll have to go soon. The ferry is crowded this time of day.”

      “Kelly?” Wentworth asked.

      “Wine sounds great,” Kelly said, taking a seat across from Wentworth at the table.

      A plump blonde woman who’d been lurking at the door rushed in and placed a clean wineglass on the table.

      “Thank you, Greta,” Wentworth said. He dribbled wine into the new glass, then pushed it across the table toward Kelly.

      “Thanks.” She took a swallow, surprised to find the taste wasn’t sweet like the crap she usually drank. She swirled the liquid in the glass like she’d seen on television and took another sip. Not bad actually. This must be what the wino experts called dry, and no doubt more expensive than anything she’d ever swilled in her life.

      She lowered the glass and found Wentworth staring at her, along with his lawyer and his son’s shrink.

      The lawyer cleared his throat. “We seem to have a situation here.”

      “No shit,” Kelly blurted, and immediately regretted her choice of words. At least the kid was upstairs snoozing.

      During an awkward silence, Carico helped herself to several slices of cheese and crackers and placed the food on an elegant white plate. When she resumed her seat, Kelly met her gaze. The shrink narrowed her eyes and nodded, as if she’d arrived at some sort of conclusion.

      “What do you think, Donna?” Wentworth asked.

      “The kidnapping made Jason regress,” Carico said. “That was to be expected.”

      Wentworth nodded. “Is there a possibility he’ll continue to think Officer Jenkins is his mother when he wakes up?”

      “I can’t answer that question. We’ll have to wait and see.”

      “Is there any chance he’s making this up, that he knows this woman isn’t his mother?” Wentworth asked.

      Kelly took a sip of her wine to cover a snort. Wentworth was clueless. He’d seen Jason’s reactions. How could anyone possibly think the little dude was playacting?

      “Not from what I’ve observed,” the doctor said, shaking her head.

      “Have you ever seen anything like this before?” the lawyer asked.

      “I’ve never treated a patient with this kind of transference, but I’ve read about it. It’s rare.”

      “Transference?” Kelly asked.

      “In therapy, transference usually happens when a patient projects their feelings or thoughts about one person onto their analyst. The analyst comes to represent some person from the patient’s past, and it can provide a useful window of information about what a patient desires or wishes to avoid.”

      “Jason desires his mother to be back,” Wentworth said.

      Carico nodded. “The abduction traumatized him, made him long desperately for his mom to protect him. When he spotted Officer Jenkins, who physically resembles his absent