Beautifully Forgotten (34 page)

Darcy was a bit early for her monthly visit to her mom, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Lucien’s comment. What had been in it for her mom? She stepped off the subway in Queens and walked to her mom’s apartment.

When she arrived there was a man just leaving, and his uniform from a popular parcel place made Darcy stop him.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I was just dropping off, but it’s all signed for.”

“Dropping off what?”

“A case of vodka.” And then clearly nervous that maybe he had gotten something wrong, he looked at the work order. “Yeah, every two weeks a case of Absolut.”

“Can I see that?”

“Sure, but I left a copy on the kitchen counter.”

“Thanks, I’ll just look at that one.”

Darcy entered her mom’s apartment and, as always, the place smelled like death. She walked into the kitchen to see a box on the counter filled with bottles of vodka. She saw the receipt and pocketed it before she grabbed a bottle and marched into her mom’s room. The woman was sprawled out on the bed, one eye closed as she attempted to watch something on television.

“Where the hell did this come from?” Darcy asked. Her mom ignored her, so she stepped in front of the television, which immediately made her mom bellow, “Move the fuck out of the way.”

“Where did this come from?” Darcy demanded as she shook the bottle of vodka.

“Give me that, that’s mine,” her mom said and tried to grab at it, but her balance was way off and she missed by a mile.

“Tell me where it came from first.”

“It’s delivery day.”

“Is this how you are spending the money I send you?”

Her mom laughed. “Right. What you send me would barely keep me happy for two days. No, I’ve got me a little arrangement.”

“With whom?”

“Don’t know.”

“And what do they get out of this arrangement?”

“Nothing.”

“So some stranger is sending you a case of vodka every two weeks and they want nothing in return?”

“Nope. They already got what they wanted.”

“Which was?”

Her mom seemed to have a moment of lucidity and she immediately turned her eyes away and started fiddling with her sheets. “I don’t remember.”

“What the fuck did you do?”

Hatred stared back at her when her mom turned her focus on Darcy. She could see that her mom was just dying to tell her and even as a numbness filled her, Darcy somehow managed to get the words out again. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, really, just had to lie. You were too young anyway. I did you a favor.”

Darcy threw the bottle against the wall and lunged at her mom, her face right up into hers.

“What the fuck did you do? I swear to God if you don’t tell me, I will pour out every fucking bottle of vodka in this house.”

Panic replaced hatred before the words just tumbled out of her mom’s mouth. “Your baby didn’t die, you were just supposed to think that it had.”

“What? Who would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Darcy took a few steps back, but her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. Her baby was alive. Tears burned her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

“My baby’s alive?”

“Not that you’ll ever find it.”

Her joy was tampered by the rising hatred she felt for the woman who called herself her mom.

“Is that why you came for me at St. Agnes?” Darcy’s voice was barely audible.

“Yes.”

“How could you?”

“Because you are my greatest regret.”

Darcy hardly recognized her own voice when she said, “And you are the lowest form of life. Why did someone as beautiful as Sister Anne have to die when a complete waste of matter like you gets to live? You can go to hell, Mother. I hope you burn for what you did.”

And then she walked right out the door, putting her mom and that part of her life out of her mind forever. She would never, ever, come back here.

Her baby was alive. She had to find him—or was it a her? She fumbled in her purse for her phone and called Lucien, but his phone went to voice mail. Her next call was to Ember.

“Hey, Darcy.”

“Can I get your uncle’s number?”

“Yeah. Is everything okay?”

“It will be.”

Josh O’Donnell’s office was in the Bronx. A simple green shingle hung over the door. Darcy saw him as soon as she entered and didn’t miss the look of contrition in his gaze.

“Darcy.” He gestured to a chair. “Please have a seat.” He studied her a minute before he said, “I’m sorry about before. I tried—”

Darcy cut him off. “I need your help.”

He saw how worked up she was and immediately switched gears. “What can I do?”

“My baby is alive.”

His shock couldn’t be feigned. “What? How do you know that?”

Anger toward her mom burned through her, but she reined in her temper. “My mom was paid off to lie to me. She doesn’t know who it was, but she didn’t care since the incentive was liquor. I’m guessing it was the same man who came to me that day.” She reached into her purse for the vodka receipt. “I think this order was placed by whoever took my baby. I don’t know if it will help, but . . .”

“Any information, no matter how small, is helpful. Do you think you would recognize the man who came to see you if you saw him again?” Josh asked.

“He ruined my life. You bet I’d fucking recognize him.”

“Sorry again,” Josh said, which immediately made Darcy feel repentant.

“No, I’m sorry. It isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well I was the messenger.” He took out a notebook. “Give me all the details you can remember and I’ll get on it immediately.”

Tears filled her eyes and her breath hitched. “Thank you.”

Darcy went to Allegro to find Lucien. He wasn’t answering his cell and she needed to tell him the news about their child. But a walk through the bar showed that he wasn’t there. Tara was working, so Darcy stopped at the bar and waited to get her attention to find out how long ago Lucien had left and if he’d happened to mention where he was going.

A group of women entered and settled at the bar next to her.

“I wonder if he’s here tonight. I haven’t seen him in a while. I heard he has a girlfriend now.”

“Lucien? He doesn’t strike me as the monogamous type. Man, I hope he isn’t, anyway. That man knows his way around a woman’s body.”

“Fucking straight.”

“Hell, maybe his girlfriend is into threesomes.”

Darcy felt her temper stir and jealousy burn through her.

“Hey, Darcy. You want a drink?”

“Do you know where Lucien is? He isn’t answering his phone.”

“He was heading home. His phone battery died, so he was going to stop on the way home to buy a new one.”

When she reached his building, she suddenly felt out of her depth at the sight of the place because it was so posh. The cab door was opened by an elderly gentleman.

“Evening, miss.”

“Hi.”

He held the door open and silently waited for her to climb out.

“Who are you here to see?”

“Lucien Black.”

“Please, this way.”

He led her inside and Darcy was taken aback by the beauty of Lucien’s apartment building. She stood by the marble concierge desk while the man who had escorted her into the building spoke to another man who sat behind the desk.

“He’ll call Mr. Black for you,” the elderly man said before he started back toward the door. “Have a nice evening, miss.”

“Thank you.” Darcy had just gotten the words from her mouth when the gentleman behind the desk lifted the receiver to his ear. A minute later he said, “Mr. Black. I have a . . .”

He looked at Darcy who immediately said, “Darcy MacBride.”

“A Darcy MacBride to see you. Right away.” He hung up the receiver. “Take that elevator there up to the top.”

Darcy started away from him. “Thank you.”

When the gilded, be-chandeliered elevator opened, she felt her confidence slipping further. She knew Lucien was a wealthy man, but she hadn’t appreciated just how wealthy until that moment.

The elevator door opened into the penthouse, and standing in the private entrance hall was Lucien.

“Darcy.”

“Lucien.”

He gestured to the living room. “Do you want to sit?”

“Yes . . . no.”

His eyebrow rose and he tilted his head in question.

She twisted her hands and tears filled her eyes as the words just tumbled from her mouth. “Our baby is alive.”

His expression changed from patience to shock before settling on joy. He moved across the room and wrapped her in his arms. “How do you know?”

“My mother lied—was paid to lie to me.”

She felt him tense with anger when she said, “We have to find our child, but I don’t even know where to start. I’ve asked Ember’s uncle to look into it.”

He released her only to frame her face with his hands. “We will find him”—he grinned—“or her. What’s that look for?”

She wanted to move closer to Lucien, but instead she took a step away from him. She looked around at his lofty and elegant apartment—she really didn’t have anything in common with him anymore. It was almost comical to pretend that they did. “Why would someone like you even look twice at me: a nothing girl with no family? You could have anyone; no one is outside of your reach, so why me? Maybe you keep finding me wanting because I really am, at least to someone like you. I know we said we were going to take it a day at a time, but maybe you are motivated to do so because we have a history. I won’t hold that against you, if you don’t.”

“Are you finished?”

She looked at him and, damn, but she loved him. “I think so.”

“Well, now you’ll shut up and let me talk.”

“Excuse me. I was being very civil. There’s no need to be such a dick.”

“Really? You come into my home and tell me that you won’t hold me to our past. Well, that just fucking pisses me off.”

“Why?” she spat back.

He reached her in two strides. His mouth connected with hers a second later, tasting her with a thoroughness that was breathtaking. He tore his mouth from her, his eyes like blue fire when he said, “Because our past is the only thing in my life I’m fucking proud of. Because I was a jackass running away from the one thing I should have been running to. Because I’ve loved you almost my whole life and I’ll go right on loving you and, damn it, you love me too.”

Her words were so softly spoken that he almost didn’t hear them. “I do.”

A grin flashed over his mouth before he kissed her again. His hands moved to her hips where he shifted the fabric of her skirt up her legs and lifted her off the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist, and moved to the wall, pressing her up against it as he ground his hips against her.

Her hands were eager when they reached for his shirt and lifted it up over his head. She pressed her mouth to him before she’d even discarded it. Her tongue licked his smooth, hard skin while her fingers worked the button of his jeans.

His hand moved between her legs and slipped under the silk to find her wet and ready. He drew his thumb across her pleasure point repeatedly before he slipped a finger inside. She moaned when he added another.

Her hand wrapped around him and pulled him free as his mouth settled over her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth through the silk of her shirt and bra. She moved her hand up the silky, hard shaft, matching his rhythm as his fingers moved in and out of her.

She felt him grow harder and then he was ripping her panties off and she was guiding him to where she wanted him most. He pushed into her slowly and, having expected hard and fast, she almost begged at his deliberate pace. His eyes moved to hers and he watched her as he claimed her. When he was fully inside her, he held himself still until her eyes opened.

“We belong together, you and I, we always have.”

Love burned through her at his words and her fingers moved down his cheek in a sweet caress before she pressed her lips to his. His took the kiss deeper, pressed her up against the wall, and started to move. She held him closer with her arms and her legs and just let herself go.

His mouth was on her ear, his tongue running along the curve of her lobe. “Come for me, Darcy.”

The orgasm ripped through her, and she cried out as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her in just the right spot to prolong it. He came with a growl, his eyes closed as pure pleasure washed over his features. He dropped his head on her shoulder, his rapid heartbeat matching her own, and when he lifted his face to her, he was smiling. “Let’s try that again, but with a bed.”