The Baby Gift. Day Leclaire

sworn he’d never met anyone by that name. “I was in Asheville that March.”

      “So you admit it?”

      “No way, sweetheart. I’m not admitting anything.”

      “You accuse me of trying to escape my responsibilities. What about you?” Despair drove the sweet illusions from her eyes. “Are you going to stand there and deny your part in Nick’s existence? I wouldn’t have thought so poorly of you, Alessandro. You always struck me as the upstanding sort.”

      “Are you saying we had a one-night stand while I was there?” he forced himself to ask. He didn’t want to concede even that much. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in any position to defend his innocence.

      “I’m not saying any such thing. I’m flat-out telling you it happened. And it wasn’t a one-night stand. You had a two-week relationship with Nick’s momma, Meg. You also claimed to love her.” A spark of indignation surged through her voice, pain underscoring every word. “Are those sorts of affairs so common, you don’t even remember? Or was it the woman you were with who proved forgettable?”

      He wasn’t ready to tell her about his days in Asheville. He needed time to analyze her angle before revealing any chinks in his armor. “They’re not common. Which is all the more reason why I’d remember fathering a child, particularly if the relationship was as serious as you’re suggesting.” There was another factor insuring that Nick couldn’t be his. “I’m also scrupulous about practicing safe sex. I don’t consider it a woman’s sole responsibility and never have.”

      “Nor do you trust women enough to allow them to take the responsibility.”

      Her words had a flat finality that stopped him cold. “How do you know that?”

      “Your youngest brother, Pietro, made that mistake. Your niece, Toni, is the result. And even though Pietro married Toni’s momma and their marriage has been a lovin’ one, you were determined not to allow a similar accident to happen to you. At least, that’s what you told Meg.” Her mouth curved into a bittersweet smile. “I guess you could say fate has a flair for the ironic.”

      Once again he felt a disturbing familiarity with the name. “Is that you? You’re Meg?”

      She hesitated for so long, he didn’t think she’d answer. “I’m Lauren Williams,” she eventually said, her voice rife with a bone-deep exhaustion. “Meg is…was my sister.”

      “Was?”

      Lauren’s obvious distress aroused another surge of the protective instinct he’d experienced earlier. What was it about her that cut through the defenses he’d built over the years? Her waiflike appearance? His appreciation for the inherent strength that underscored her every word and action? Or was it simply a gut-level attraction to her as a woman?

      “My sister died a few months ago, remember? I mentioned it earlier.”

      “Right. I’m sorry.” He didn’t want to push when she was so obviously upset, but he didn’t have any choice. “I assume she’s the one who told you I’m Nick’s father.”

      “Yes.”

      “Is there any possibility she’s mistaken?” He couldn’t think of a more tactful way to phrase the question.

      She acknowledged the effort with a slight smile. “None.”

      Alessandro frowned as another thought occurred to him. “You said we’d met. When was that?”

      “My sister and I were together that first day. You and Meg hit it off from the start.”

      “Where was this?”

      “At a small restaurant tucked in the foothills outside of Asheville. A place called LuLu’s.”

      He shook his head in frustration. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Do you have any way at all of substantiating your claim?”

      She paused again and he knew without a doubt that she was keeping something from him. She’d hesitated like that once before, but he couldn’t remember what question he’d asked at the time. He’d make damned sure he paid attention from here on out.

      “The blood test will substantiate my claim. You don’t need more than that.”

      Need or deserve? Alessandro couldn’t help but wonder. He thrust a hand through his hair and paced toward the hearth. The fire licked hungrily at the logs he’d added. The ruby embers beneath the grate hissed, relieved by an occasional pop and the accompanying shower of sparks. Lauren acted so certain, he had the nasty suspicion she might be telling the truth—at least, the truth as she knew it. He glanced uneasily at the boy who was sitting on the floor by the carton of toys, examining each and every one of them with an intentness surprising in one so young. Could Nick actually be his? Could he have a son?

      He dismissed the possibility with a quick shake of his head. No. No way. For one thing, he didn’t go in for one-night stands—or even two-week stands. And for another, Lauren was right. He didn’t take foolish chances or trust his partner to handle something as vital as birth control. If he’d been with this Meg, he’d have taken precautions. Children weren’t in the foreseeable future—at least, not in his foreseeable future.

      He swung around to face Lauren. “So what now?”

      “I’m hopin’ you’ll want to get to know your son.” She smiled at the boy with a tenderness that transfigured her. With that simple curve of her lips she went from elf to angel. “A boy should be close to his father.”

      “And if the test proves I’m not Nick’s father?”

      She didn’t appear concerned by the possibility. “That’s not going to happen. Even if you don’t believe me, look at him. He’s the image of you.”

      He lifted an eyebrow. “He looks like a typical baby. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t bear any resemblance to a baby whatsoever.”

      The corners of her mouth trembled into another smile and a soft, silvery laugh escaped. “No, you don’t. I was referring to the shape of his face and color of his hair and eyes. They’re the same pitch-black as yours.”

      “I’m not the only man in the world with dark eyes.”

      She sighed. “True. That’s why I’m suggesting a paternity test. That way you’ll know for certain.”

      “I’ll need to make some calls to find out where we can have the procedure done.”

      “If it’s too far away, it’ll have to wait,” she informed him. “I still need to have someone fix my car. And to be honest, I’m exhausted.”

      She looked it, too. Not that he’d allow sympathy to interfere with his handling of the situation. Something didn’t add up and until he found out what, he refused to trust anything she said. “I gather that means your car really did break down? It wasn’t just an excuse?”

      “It pulled into your driveway on a hope and a prayer. It won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

      “Convenient.”

      He’d succeeded in angering her. Just as well. Having her angry would make it easier for him to maintain an emotional distance. After all, he’d had years of experience being the calm in the midst of unending storms of passion. If there were two qualities Salvatores were renowned for, it was passion and charm, qualities that had both managed to pass him by. He’d found that the more worked up those around him became, the calmer his own reactions. If Lauren chose to respond like a Salvatore, it would make his job all the easier.

      “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not the least bit convenient,” she retorted. “I can’t even drive myself to the store for food or diapers.”

      “In that case, I hope you have enough to last the next couple of days.”

      “Why?”

      “Because neither of