Buch lesen: «Whose Baby?»
“Those men wanted to kill us.”
Because Kelly seemed on the verge of collapsing, Nick slid his arm around her and pulled her to him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think they had murder on their minds.”
Blinking back the tears, she looked up at him. “Then what did they want?”
“I think this might have been a kidnapping attempt. If they’d wanted to kill you and the babies, they would have stayed in the cover of the trees and fired the shots.”
“You think they wanted information?”
He looked down at her and didn’t pull any punches. “Those men could come back. Next time, you might not be so lucky. This isn’t really a request, Kelly. You and Joseph are moving in with me at the ranch.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Kelly Manning – She’s shocked to learn that someone switched her newborn son with another child. Kelly’s investigation leads her to successful rancher Nick Lattimer, who’s been raising her child.
Nick Lattimer – Joining forces with Kelly Manning was the last thing he expected. Can he keep Kelly and the babies safe?
Joseph – The son Kelly has raised since birth. Even though they don’t share the same DNA, he’s her child.
William – The baby Nick loves as his own. He’s not willing to give up William to Kelly, even if she is his biological mother.
Eric Lattimer – Nick’s ruthless brother who’ll do anything, including commit murder, to make sure he doesn’t have to share his inheritance with Nick’s heirs.
Cooper Morris – The head of security at Nick’s ranch.
Todd Burgess – A Justice Department agent who’s trying to gather enough evidence to have Eric arrested.
Denny Russell – Kelly’s PI friend who Nick immediately distrusts. Denny is keeping some dark secrets about his past.
Paula Barker – She’s on the Justice Department task force that’s trying to stop Eric, but does she have her own agenda?
Rosalinda McMillan – Eric’s former secretary who claims she’ll do anything to bring Eric to justice.
Collena Drake – The troubled former cop who now devotes her life to finding out what happened in the Brighton Birthing Centre where the babies were switched.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why Texas author and former air force captain Delores Fossen feels as if she was genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force top gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.
Whose Baby?
DELORES FOSSEN
MILLS & BOON
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To Minette. This one’s for you.
Chapter One
Bexar County, Texas
Kelly Manning checked to make sure no one was following her. No one was. She was alone in the dimly lit hallway.
So far, so good.
Too bad her pounding heart and racing breath didn’t quite grasp that she was close to succeeding. A minute, maybe less, and she’d have what she needed and would be away from Nick Lattimer’s ranch.
Of course, this could be just the beginning. Not exactly a comforting thought, but she would cross that bridge if she came to it. However, it was impossible to push aside the thought that the next few minutes could change her life forever.
She eased open the door to the nursery and ducked inside. The nanny was in the kitchen indulging in a late-night snack, so other than the baby, the suite would be empty. Timing was indeed everything. If any of the half-dozen or so “security guards” and household staff caught her, they would no doubt alert their boss.
Definitely not good.
Kelly hurried across the room to the crib. The baby was there. Sleeping. He was tucked beneath a blue satin-rimmed blanket. All she could see of him was the mop of blondish-brown hair, but with just that bit of visual info, she had to fight to hold on to her breath. Now wasn’t the time to let her emotions get in the way of what she had to do.
With her hands trembling, she reached for the small vial she’d hidden in her bra. But reaching for it was as far as she got.
“Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” she heard someone ask.
The sound shot through her entire body, and Kelly gasped. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she had no doubt that it belonged to Nick Lattimer, the lord of the massive Texas ranch she was trespassing on. And he was the last person on earth she wanted to come face-to-face with tonight.
Heaven help her.
Dreading what she would see, Kelly angled her eyes in the direction of his voice. He was in the shadows, his shoulder resting against the doorjamb of the adjoining room. His head was slightly tilted to the side. Studying her. He wore a tux and a formidable take-no-prisoners expression.
“I was looking for the ladies’ room,” she managed to say. She’d practiced it enough that thankfully her voice didn’t crack.
He pushed away from the doorjamb, a slick effortless move, and he started toward her. A pair of delicate angel night-lights illuminated his way. Ironic, since there was nothing angelic or delicate about him.
His midnight-black hair fell long and fashionably untamed against his neck. Dark, brooding eyes. Chiseled jaw. High cheekbones that hinted of Native American blood. He was handsome by anyone’s standards.
Including hers, much to her disgust.
But his looks didn’t make him less dangerous. From all accounts, he was an ends-justifies-the-means sort of man. Any means.
“The caterer and party staff were instructed to use the downstairs facilities,” he informed her.
Kelly nodded. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know that.” She turned to walk away.
Nick Lattimer shifted to the side and blocked her exit. He didn’t stop there. He blocked her a second time when she tried to go around him. Then he circled her. Slowly. Like a hungry jungle cat stalking his prey.
Outside the window, lightning stabbed across the sky, quickly followed by thunder. The November storm only added to the menacing energy simmering around him.
“I wasn’t joking about having to go to the ladies’ room.” Kelly tried to keep her tone light. She failed. Her heart was beating so hard and fast that she thought her ribs might crack.
He was behind her when she heard the whisper-soft sound. She might not have even known what it was. But she was a cop’s widow.
It was a gun.
Oh, mercy.
It’d been a serious mistake coming here, but it was too late to turn back.
She got a good look at the weapon as he finished circling her and came to a standstill directly in front of her. Yes, it was definitely a gun. An expensive, high-powered Glock. Not an amateur’s weapon of choice. It was too much to hope that he didn’t know how to use it.
Her stomach tightened into a cold, hard knot.
Kelly forced herself not to panic. The stakes were too high for her to lose it. “Listen, I’ve obviously upset you by being here. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t doubt that. Only a handful of people have ever managed to upset me more than once.” His narrowed gaze slid over her. “Who sent you?”
She’d anticipated a lot of questions. But not that one. Kelly shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… Who. Sent. You?”
Okay. It was clear from his sarcastic tone that he had his own issues and wouldn’t let her just walk out. It was time to show a little backbone.
She hiked up her chin. “I understood what you said, but I thought the answer was obvious. I work for the caterer you hired for your dinner party.” She pointed to her clothes. “You didn’t think I was wearing this tacky polyester uniform to make a fashion statement, did you?”
“No. But it did occur to me that you were wearing it so you could gain access to my home. And to this particular room.”
Without taking his lethal gaze off her, he reached out, snagged her by the shoulder and pushed her against the wall. Her right cheek landed next to a cheery cherub mural.
Other than a startled sound of protest, Kelly didn’t have time to react before his left hand was on her. Moving across her back. To her sides. And her stomach. She battled with her instincts to fight back. But this wasn’t a fight she could win. Not with his size and that Glock. Maybe once he realized she wasn’t armed, he’d back off. Of course, he might find the vial. Even so, he likely wouldn’t know what it was.
“So, is this how you treat your hired help?” Kelly snarled.
“It is when I find them in places they shouldn’t be.”
That searching hand went lower, to the stretchy waist of her dark-blue skirt. And even lower. He slid his palm along the outside of her legs. Then, the inside.
All the way up.
When his fingers made it to the lower front of her panties, Kelly grabbed his wrist and clamped onto his hand. Too bad she hadn’t opted to wear her sturdy cotton underwear. Or her big-girl panties, as her grandmother used to call them. Instead, she had a little swatch of silk and lace that allowed her to feel every inch of his touch.
A touch she didn’t want to feel.
She glared at him over her shoulder. “This isn’t necessary.”
“Oh, but it is,” he countered.
Kelly had stopped his search in her panty region. Not the best idea she had ever had. Maybe it was her grip on his wrist, or maybe he was just a jerk—either way, he kept his hand there.
“Look, if this is your idea of foreplay—”
“It isn’t.” He threw off her grip and resumed his search. “Trust me, if it were foreplay, at least one of us would be enjoying it.”
Apparently finished with the zinging smart-aleck comebacks and the search of her midsection, he caught on to her shoulder and whirled her around to face him. Kelly had to look up to meet him eye to eye. She was five-six, and he had a good seven inches on her. Plus, there was the weight difference. He outsized her by sixty pounds or more.
All muscle, no doubt.
He didn’t look like the excessive-body-fat type. His size and strength would be a definite liability if she had to fight her way out of there.
Unfortunately, she might not have a choice about that.
“Were you trying to kidnap the baby?” Lattimer demanded.
That didn’t do much to ease the knot in her stomach. Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. “No! Absolutely not.”
“Good. Because you would have failed.” He tucked his gun inside a holster hidden beneath his jacket, reached over and threw back the blanket.
Stunned with his abrupt movement and with the fact that the baby didn’t react to that movement, Kelly glanced in the crib. She didn’t need the overhead light to realize it wasn’t a baby but a doll.
A doll!
All of this had been for nothing.
“Listen carefully,” Lattimer continued, speaking through nearly clenched teeth. He also got right in her face. “I don’t tolerate thieves, even when they pose as polyester-wearing employees. I’m especially not fond of money-hungry opportunists like you who try to come in here and kidnap a child. No repeats of what happened to the Lindbergh baby. Understand?”
Somehow, Kelly managed to find enough breath to speak. “I’m not a kidnapper.” This time, all the rehearsal in the world couldn’t have stopped her voice from trembling. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”
That repeated denial obviously didn’t please him. His eyes, those dark dangerous gray eyes, narrowed to slits. He grabbed a fistful of her blouse, and without taking his gaze from hers, he reached inside. To her bra. It only took him a second before he retrieved the thin plastic vial.
Judas Priest. He must have seen her reach for it earlier.
“Did you plan to drug the baby?” he asked.
Lattimer didn’t give her a chance to flat-out deny it. He opened it and extracted the swab that was enclosed in a clear plastic vial. He brought it to his nose. And sniffed it. Kelly knew for a fact there was nothing to smell because the swab was sterile.
“It’s a lab test kit,” she volunteered.
She took a deep breath and prayed he’d buy the lie she was about to tell him—especially since he obviously hadn’t believed anything else she’d had to say. “My doctor thought I might have strep.” Kelly purposely coughed on him and didn’t cover her mouth, hoping it would spur him to let her leave. “I’m supposed to swab my throat and drop it off at his office.”
He stared at it. A moment. Before he cursed under his breath. “It’s not for strep. It’s for a DNA test.”
Nick Lattimer groaned, a feral sound rumbling deep from within his chest, and he launched the vial into the massive fireplace on the other side of the room. The plastic shattered when it hit the stone-lined hearth. “Who the hell sent you here?”
She barely got out a denying shake of her head before Lattimer latched on to her again. He put her back against the wall. Not nicely, either. He meant business.
“My ward, William, doesn’t need another DNA test,” he insisted. “Let me spell this out for you.” He flicked on the overhead light and shoved his hands against the wall, imprisoning her. He leaned in, so close that she could see the swirls of gray and flecks of steel blue in his eyes. “William is not my biological child, and I have no plans to adopt him.”
Kelly had suspected the first part.
She’d prayed for the second part to be true.
“William’s really not your son?” she asked, desperate for him to confirm it.
“No.” Lattimer mumbled something else under his breath. “I thought maybe once…but that doesn’t matter. Not now. His mother is dead. He has no one else but me to raise him.”
So, there it was. All laid out for her. The only thing missing was the proverbial silver platter.
“But I think William does have someone else to raise him,” she whispered.
Something flickered in those icy blue-gray eyes. Surprise, maybe. Maybe something more. “Care to explain what you mean by that?”
Kelly nodded. “His mother’s not dead.” And because it was necessary, Kelly paused to clear her throat. “William is my son.”
Chapter Two
William is my son.
Right.
Nick didn’t know whether to laugh or curse some more. This woman was obviously delusional. Or maybe the person who’d hired her had brainwashed her into believing that she was indeed William’s mother so that she would do whatever had been asked of her.
Now, the question was—what had been asked of her?
Who had done the asking?
And how far was she willing to go to get it done?
Nick looked her right in the eyes. “Let’s try this again.” He held up his index finger. “Who are you?” Another finger lifted. “Who hired you?” He put up a third finger. “And explain to me why the hell I should just let you walk out of here alive.”
The threat garnered her complete attention. It also seemed to rile her a bit. Nick was almost positive he saw a flash of anger rifle through her jade-colored eyes.
She reached out and pushed down one of his fingers. “I’m Kelly Manning.” She pushed down another one. “I work for no one. Well, not on a regular basis anyway. I’m a freelance photographer in San Antonio.” She wasn’t so gentle when lowering his third finger. “And the reason I plan to walk out of here alive is because I’ve done nothing that warrants you trying to kill me.”
“That’s debatable.”
Kelly Manning. Nick silently repeated her name several times to see if it rang any bells.
It didn’t.
He was about to add another round of questions, but the door opened. It was Cooper Morris, the head of security for the ranch. A hulking man with a shiny shaved head and a body the size of a Sumo wrestler, Cooper took up most of the doorway. As if that wouldn’t be intimidating enough to his visitor, he had his weapon drawn and ready to fire.
“Are you all right, sir?” Cooper asked.
Nick debated how much he should tell him and decided to keep things vague for a while. Later, he’d find out why it’d taken Cooper so long to respond to what could have been a dangerous breach of security.
“Ms. Manning and I were just chatting. Ms. Kelly Manning. It’s possible that she’s missed a dose of medication or something.” That earned him a scowl from her. “Or perhaps the caterer is simply one of her many employers. Do a preliminary background check on her immediately. We’ll be waiting here for your report.”
Cooper glanced at her with his dark suspicious eyes before his attention came back to Nick. “Yes, sir.” As Nick knew he would do, Cooper gave an efficient nod and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
If the threat of a background check bothered her, it didn’t show. She certainly didn’t cower in fear. She got to her feet and caught on to his arm.
“I want to see William,” she insisted. “Please.”
Even with the added please, he didn’t have to debate this particular issue. “Under no circumstance will I let you anywhere near him.”
Her grip tightened on his arm. “But I have to know if he looks like me. I have to know the truth.”
“The truth? And just what might that be? That you have some insane fantasy that he’s your son? Well, he’s not. Understand? He’s not.” He slung off her grip. “His mother was Meredith Beirce, my late friend, and she died the very evening she gave birth to him.”
“Yes, I know. On October eighth, at the Brighton Birthing Center just outside of San Antonio,” she said without hesitation.
Nick didn’t hesitate, either. “Anyone could have learned that from public records.”
“That’s not how I knew,” she insisted. “I met Meredith several times. We used the same obstetrician, and we went into labor on the same day. And, yes, I also know that she died at nine twenty-three p.m. of complications from a respiratory infection.” Nick shrugged. “If you think knowing that information will impress me, you’re dead wrong.”
“It wasn’t meant to impress you.”
Without warning, she caught on to the waist of her skirt and shoved it down to expose her stomach.
Her bare stomach.
And then she lowered it even more. He could see the top of her ruby-colored panties, the ones he’d felt when he searched her.
“See that?” she asked. “It’s a C-section scar. I gave birth to a son the morning of October eighth at the Brighton Birthing Center.”
Nick glanced at the scar in question. He’d never seen a C-section incision but didn’t doubt that was one. “It proves nothing other than you’ve had a child. A child. It doesn’t mean that child was William.”
She groaned and fixed her skirt. He almost thanked her for covering herself. For reasons he didn’t want to explore, his body reacted to hers in the most basic male way it could react. It was purely a lust thing. No doubt about it. But he didn’t even want lust playing into this.
He wanted no connection whatsoever with this woman.
She plowed both hands through the sides of her short choppy blond hair and took several harsh breaths. “If I weren’t on the receiving end of these thug tactics, it might please me to know that you’re going to such great lengths to take care of William. You’re making sure he isn’t kidnapped by someone out to earn a quick buck. But how about you just hear me out before you start tossing around any more accusations?”
He gestured for her to go ahead. But hopefully the scowl on his face would let her know that her explanation meant nothing.
“Thirteen months ago, on October eighth, I had a son, and four days later, I left the birthing center with the child I thought was mine.” Her bottom lip started to tremble, and tears glistened in her eyes. She quickly blinked them back. “This isn’t easy for me. I love my son, Joseph, more than life itself. And he’s all I have.”
He nodded. Nick could understand that. He felt the same way about William.
She returned his nod. “I’m not asking for sympathy, even though heaven knows I might need some before this over. Still, I don’t expect I’ll get it from you.” Rather than look at him, she stared at the mural behind him. “About a week ago, I got a visit from a woman named Collena Drake. She’s been going through files and records from an illegal adoption ring that the San Antonio police uncovered and stopped. Collena found a memo indicating that someone paid for two babies to be swapped at Brighton.”
Nick shrugged. “Why would anyone pay for something like that?”
She paused. Seemingly to steady her breath. But that pause didn’t do much to steady him.
Hell.
Nick didn’t like where she seemed to be going with this, but he reminded himself that she was almost certainly a liar.
“I have no idea why someone would want to switch babies, but I can’t dismiss that it happened. In fact, I have some proof that it did.”
“What proof?” he fired at her, feeling more and more uncomfortable with this whole conversation.
“My late husband and I had the same blood type,” she continued. She moistened her lips. “Joseph doesn’t. And before you ask—no, I didn’t cheat on my husband. In fact, he’s the only man I’ve ever had sex with.”
Nick had conditioned himself not to respond instinctively to anything, but this was testing the limits of his training. “And why would you think any of this would be of the slightest interest to me?”
Kelly Manning looked him straight in the eye. “Because it’s my guess that William and Joseph were the babies who were switched.”
After getting past the initial punch of shock, he gave that some thought, looking for a flaw in her theory, and he found one immediately. “There were probably dozens of babies born on that day.”
“Five boys,” she quickly furnished. “I’ve checked all of them. Either through blood type or ethnicity, I was able to rule them out. Except for William. He’s the last name on my list.”
It was a good attempt to get him to believe her. Very good. But it didn’t work. “If you suspected a baby switch, why didn’t you just go to the police?”
She flinched. Yet more of the proof that Nick was looking for. Well, maybe it was proof. If so, now he had to wonder why she was doing it. Money, maybe? Or maybe she really did work for his brother.
“Put yourself in my place,” Kelly Manning explained. “My husband, a police officer, was shot and killed when I was barely two weeks pregnant, and then I learned the child—our child—wasn’t really ours after all. I was afraid the police or social services would take Joseph from me until they could investigate what happened. So, I decided to try to get to the truth on my own.”
There was more to it. He’d bet his life on it, but Nick didn’t push it because frankly it didn’t matter. “If you carry this illogical speculation out to its equally illogical conclusion, then you’re saying that this baby, Joseph, is really Meredith’s biological son?”
“I think so, yes.” Her gaze snapped to his. “But she’s dead so she can’t take him away from me. And I checked—she has no living relatives. None. That’s why you agreed to raise William, right?”
Nick didn’t bother to answer that. It wasn’t any of this woman’s business that he’d felt an obligation to his former lover.
Kelly stared at him. “You don’t believe a word I’ve said, do you?”
“You’re a very perceptive woman. Which makes me wonder why you came here with this outlandish story in the first place. Did my brother, Eric, put you up to it?”
“No!” She repeated it, groaned and slapped her hand against the wall. “I don’t even know your brother. And I didn’t come here to kidnap a baby or do anything else that would harm him.” The outburst was short-lived, but it seemed to drain her. Her chin lowered a notch, and she turned away from him. “I just want to know the truth, all right? I want to know for certain if William is my son.”
He heard her breath shudder again. He heard the pain. And he saw her wipe the tear from her cheek. She was either a very good actress, or else…
Nick put a chokehold on that particular thought. He didn’t intend to give her any concessions until he had that background check from Cooper.
“All I’m asking for is a DNA test,” she said almost in a whisper. “A simple saliva swab.”
“That’s not going to happen. Not until I know more about you. And even then…”
Her sigh was long and weary. “Then just listen and do the math yourself. My late husband and I are both O negative. That means our child must be type O, as well. Notice the operative word there. Must.” She paused a moment. “Joseph is type B. B negative, to be exact.” Another pause. “So, this is more than a wild guess, but William has type O blood, doesn’t he?”
He did.
So did millions of people.
However, that wasn’t what sent Nick’s mind racing and his heart pounding. It was the added remark his visitor had tossed out there. The other child’s blood type.
B Negative.
Nick’s own rare blood type.
His mind continued to race until the possibilities crashed down on him like an avalanche.
If Meredith had lied to him. If his first instincts had been right after all. If she had indeed been pregnant with his child when she walked out and left him.
Then, maybe he had a son.
If that were true, then he would certainly come face-to-face with his worst nightmare.
Because any son of his would automatically be a target for murder.
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