Liar's Moon (22 page)

And she couldn’t do that, of course. What could she do? Without harming him. Without his father’s consent.

Her hands began to shake and she clenched them tightly in her lap, looking down at them. He couldn’t be so cruel as to prove his point and then deny her! But look at what he had done today.

She lifted her chin. “You might have warned me. You had every opportunity, too, Leif. You could have confronted me with what you knew. Why—why did you have to drag me over here—confront me at the grave?”

“Tracy—” He paused, rubbing his temple. “I asked you. I asked you and asked you and asked you if there wasn’t something that you wanted to tell me. You wouldn’t talk to me. I knew that if I brought you here, you couldn’t deny it anymore. And that you’d be forced to realize that Arthur and Audrey might be capable of anything.”

She leapt to her feet, all her fury exploding.

“Oh! Oh! This is all part of it, I see! They did this—-just an inch away from murder, no doubt.”

He shook his head in disgust. “Tracy—they took your child and gave it away, and by some mercy I have my son. And you still refuse to remove your blinders.”

“I have removed my blinders!”

“I did not intend to be brutal or cruel, Tracy. You had to see the truth!”

She flew across the room at him, slamming her fists in a rain of fury. And the tears that had gone cold started to fall again. He held her, and stood rigid to her attack, not stopping her, but letting her play her energy out. “Leif—leave me alone.”

“Tracy—I’m sorry—”

“Once, Leif, you didn’t seem able to forgive me. Well, I’m damned sorry, but I can’t forgive you this time.”

“Tracy—”

She felt him coming toward her and she swallowed, stiffening further and placing her hands to her cheeks, wiping away all remnants of her tears and swearing that she would be strong, she would not cry again. Nor would she touch him, in anger or in love.

Before he could reach her, there was a light tapping on the door. Leif stepped on past her, opened it, and greeted the man from room service cordially, displaying an easy shift of personality that irritated Tracy thoroughly.

He and the young Swiss kept up an idle conversation as the table was set, the wine uncorked and approved, and everything arranged.

“Madame?”

Tracy was not so glib. She did manage a tight smile as she was seated, and a forced, “Thank you.”

Leif tipped the man. He locked the door in his wake, then hesitated only briefly before sitting down across from Tracy.

He lifted his glass to her, watching her sardonically. “To life, Miss Kuger.”

She didn’t lift her glass. She just sat there.

“The food is delicious here,” he said, studying her impassive features as he idly continued to sip his wine. “The steak is excellent, and I’ve never had potatoes like this anywhere else in the world.”

“That’s fascinating.”

He emitted an impatient sound and leaned toward her. “God, Tracy, I gave you back a living child! What— did you prefer a dead one?”

Tracy lifted a brow to him. “Oh? Are you planning on giving me back my son?”

He smiled slowly, sardonically. “Ah, so that’s the gnawing question at the moment.”

“Well.”

“Drink your wine, Tracy. Eat.”

“I asked you a question.”

“Hmm. Do I mean that to infer that we’re going to have a rational conversation?”

“I’m trying very hard.”

He lifted her glass and handed it to her. Tracy’s fingers curled around it, and she knew he wasn’t going to have any kind of a conversation at all unless she ate.

She sipped her wine and sat down and picked up her utensils. She ate a bite of the steak and it was truly delicious, but her stomach felt as if it were leaded and heavy with rocks.

She felt his eyes on her; she didn’t know his feelings or what he was thinking. “What?” she demanded, setting her fork down and swallowing a sip of wine to alleviate the sudden parched feeling that came to her throat.

He shook his head. “I really don’t know. You tell me, Tracy, what you would like to have happen. How do you think that this should be handled.”

She wanted to meet his eyes. They were hard upon hers, blunt and unwavering. She couldn’t.

“I—I realize that he has lived with you for over six
years. That I mean nothing to him at all. That—that Blake is the one who matters here, and that he must be dealt with very gently. He’s not really old enough to understand. Perhaps we could arrange something where I have him for a few days at first, then a few weeks, working up to an even situation where—”

“An even situation?” he inquired tightly, his eyes narrowing. “You mean like split custody.”

“Well, yes—”

“You’re insane, Tracy,” he said coldly. “Forget it.”

She shouldn’t have lost her temper; she did.

“He’s my son! I lost him through a cruel hoax—I never gave him up on purpose! Surely, I can get him back legally. His birth certificate must still exist somewhere, and since my grandfather began the hoax, he’ll certainly be willing to get me out of it now! You’re the one who always says it—Arthur Kingsley can buy anything!”

Leif pushed back from the table, not answering her at first, but studying his wine as he swirled it in his glass.

“Not my son, Tracy. You’re forgetting—my financial situation may not put me in the billions, but I’m affluent myself. And if his birth certificate can be discovered, I’m willing to bet that you did name the father on it.”

“So—” she said, her voice low, and to her horror, quivering. “So we’d be back where we are now. Split custody.”

He shook his head at her, displaying no anger except for a telltale tick in that long vein in his tightly corded
neck.

“No way, Tracy,” he said softly. And then he smiled. “Legal battles can also take forever and forever. You’ve lost six years. At this rate, you might make it for his high school graduation.”

She exploded with some oath, throwing her napkin on the table and stalking away.

The soft sound of his laughter followed her, with only a slightly hard edge to it. Her back was to him; it was all she could do to keep from throwing herself at him again in a futile expulsion of her fury. And pain. Her heart ached as if dagger after dagger had been slammed within it. Why had he done this?

Given her back her son…
only to keep him away.

He’d wanted to prove how callous the Kingsley side of her family could be. That they were capable of taking a newborn infant, that they were capable of murder.

She winced; she didn’t dare think about her father now. That was a quest that would have to wait. She knew she couldn't bear knowing that her child lived. That he was six and heal
thy and sweet and adorable…

And she didn’t have him.

“Blake is my son, Tracy. Biologically, I’m his father. In his eyes, I am his father. I have raised him. I held him through the night when he cried; I changed diapers, I caught measles from him. I’m not saying that to be cruel —only to point out the undeniable truth. I will never give him up. He will never leave my house.”

Tracy spun back around. “You have to give him up! I —I’m his real mother!” She didn’t want to plead with him; after today, she had never, never wanted to ask anything of him again. But she had no choice. Because she was desperate to have a part of Blake. Of her own son.

He shrugged, and stared straight at her. Evenly, implacably. He actually appeared relaxed and comfortable and totally at ease with his own position.

“I will have a place in his life!” she flared with sudden passion, willing herself to remain still.

“Then you will come to him,” Leif said softly. He
stood too, coming nearer her, but not close enough to touch.

A distance gaped between them then. A great, vast distance.

“I can’t come back to your house! Ever!”

“You said that once before.”

“I didn’t hate you with all my heart before!”

It was a lie; she knew it was a lie. And yet the burning pain and rage she felt toward him made it very nearly the truth.

It seemed that his jaw tightened; he blinked, but still betrayed no emotion toward her. Not anger, not tenderness.

“I suggest that you learn something about forgiveness, Tracy,” he warned her softly. “I told you that I was sorry; I tried to explain—”

“Leif, you are merciless and ruthless!”

“Tracy, if you want to be his mother, be his mother. Don’t disrupt a decent home, all the stability and love that the child has already. I swear to you—I’ll fight you into the ground if you try anything. If you want to learn how to become his mother, you are welcome to do so. In his home.”

“I will not live in your house!”

He arched a brow, as if mildly interested—and amused.

“You’ve lived quite nicely in my house—in my room and in my bed—twice now. I’m sure you’ll manage to do
so again.”

“What? You think after what you’ve done that I’ll just come back as a permanent—mistress?” she demanded incredulously.

“Not at all. I’m his father. You want to be his mother—”

“I am his mother!”

“I repeat, you want to be his mother. That’s a damn nice and normal situation. Good for a child. A father and a mother. It’s a very good way to grow up.”

She couldn’t breathe suddenly. She felt very weak, both frightened and anticipatory, on fire—and shaking with chills.

“What—what are you saying, Leif?”

“I’m saying that if you want your son, Tracy, at this very late date, that you’ll play by my—‘house’—rules. You’ll marry me,” Leif stated simply, “and it will be that old anachronism—a family.”

“I—
I—”

She was actually speechless, so stunned by his words that she couldn’t begin to combat him. Inwardly she struggled, and then her words rushed out.

“You can’t be serious!” Tracy cried. “I told you—I despise you and I’ll never forgive you for today!”

“Have it your way, Tracy,” he said with a shrug.

He turned away, and there was an awful finality about the way he so determinedly walked from her. Could he do it? Could he keep her away from her son? A child she had barely seen. A child also biologically his—and legally adopted as well. She could fight him, but it might take years and years, and before the law, too, it might appear that she had willingly given up her own infant, having been a teenaged and unwed mother
…

“Leif, wait!” she cried, rushing to him, catching his arm to spin him back to her, then dropping it hurriedly. It burned to touch him.

Again, she wanted to face him. She couldn’t at first. She fought to raise her chin and meet his eyes. They were gray; as hard as stone.

“You—you can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“Leif—a marriage like that would be a disaster! Legal, but meaning nothing. In name only and all that!”

“In name only?” With mild interest he folded his arms over his chest and waited expectantly.

“It couldn’t be anything else.”

“It would have to be something else.”

“I will not go to bed with you again!”

“You never had any problems before.”

She glared at him. “I’ve had problems every time I’ve ever seen you!”

“Tracy, if you marry me, you sleep with me. I can’t imagine it being that terrible a hardship. But that’s your dilemma to solve. I can’t make you talk to me or jump up and down with joy over the situation. I’m just warning you—no lies, no surprises. If you’re my wife, you’ll be just that.” He added, with a hard glint in his eyes: “In the bedroom as well as outside of it.”

Fire swept through her. She knew that she quivered from head to toe, and she certainly didn’t intend to capitulate to his crude proposal.

“You’d be miserable,” she said coolly.

“Why is that?”

Color rose to her cheeks. “I could marry you, I could follow your rules. Sleep in your bed. And never protest your touch. But—” Her voice lowered, she could barely breathe. She sought for the right words. “I wouldn’t, I couldn’t—”

“Do go on, Tracy. This is fascinating.”

“I’d be a log!” she shouted. “You’d have an empty shell every time you touched me.”

She was suddenly afraid that he’d be violently angry with the tension that coursed between them. She tensed,
willing herself to keep her chin high, little help against his towering size.

He wasn’t angry.

He started to laugh and eye her with a silver ridicule that made her long for violence.

“Tracy,” he said smoothly, “I’ve known you rather— well. You might hate me from now to eternity, but—well, let me put it this way. I’ve no qualms about enjoying a certain amount of marital bliss in the least.”

“You—”

He stilled her urge to slap him before her hand could come anywhere near his face. She was held tightly to him; he stroked her cheek, then stared down at her, still smiling with high amusement.