The Baby Track (16 page)

Things were complicated enough, she lectured herself. Adding sex to this mess was as risky—and as crazy!—as tossing a match into a pool of gasoline. She needed people around. There was safety—and self-control—in a crowd.

“Sarah wants to show the nurses her new clothes,” Courtney said in a high, strained voice quite unlike her normal tone. “We—”

“Sarah is ready for a nap,” Connor interrupted. He laid the baby on her tummy in the portable white wicker bassinet that they kept in the corner of the room for her. Wilson Nollier had brought it in the first night of Connor’s hospitalization.

“She’s not sleepy.” Courtney went to pick her up. But Sarah was not going to come to her rescue this time. Her big blue eyes had already closed.

Courtney straightened and turned around. Connor was standing directly behind her, so close that they were almost touching. “She’s asleep.” Her voice shook. “I—I guess our shopping trip this morning wore her out.”

“So it seems.” Connor smiled lazily, his voice deep and low. “And now, picking up where we left off..He slid one arm around her waist and drew her slowly to him.

Their eyes met and held for a long, sexually charged moment. A wealth of wordless communication passed between them.

Courtney went to him. She knew she shouldn’t, she could recite a whole list of reasons why not. But reason, along with caution and resolve, dissolved when he was looking at her in
that
particular way. Desire shone bright and hot in his eyes, and his wide, sexy mouth was curved into a smile that made her breathless.

No man had ever had such power over her, and it was more than a little scary. But it was wildly exciting, as well. He pulled her close, and through the thin fabric of her skirt, she could feel the muscular hardness of his thighs pressing against her.

“Courtney.” His warm breath stirred her hair as he lowered his head and brushed his lips across her forehead.

Her eyes dropped closed, and she felt his feather-light kisses on her lids, on her cheeks, along the fine line of her jaw. As if in a dream, she slid her arms slowly around his neck. She stroked his neck with her fingers, running them through the sandy-brown thickness of his hair. It felt so good to hold him, to be in his arms.

And then his mouth took hers, warm and hard and commanding. Her lips parted on impact and his tongue penetrated the moist softness of her mouth, rubbing against her tongue in a seductive, suggestive rhythm.

Passion surged through her and she clung to him, holding him tighter, and moving wantonly against him. Her nipples were taut and sensitive and strained against the material of her clothes. She felt a shocking urge to bare her breasts and feel his hands on her, his mouth—

Trembling with urgency, she smoothed her hands over his back, savoring the hard male feel of him. It was intoxicating to touch him like this, to know that he wanted her. As she wanted him.

Connor drew a deep, shuddering breath and deepened the kiss, pulling her blouse from the waistband of her skirt to slip his hand under it. He cupped her breast, possessively, ardently, and caressed the tight bud of her nipple. When he thrust his thigh between hers and applied a firm, seductive pressure, she whimpered at the exquisite pleasure of it.

“You’re so sweet,” Connor said huskily, nibbling on her neck as his hands molded her ever-closer to his hard masculine frame. ‘ ‘So sexy and passionate. And you’re mine! ” he added possessively. “My darling, my wife.”

She wanted to melt into him, she wanted to lie down on the bed with him and make love. But his words set off alarm bells in her head. She was getting too caught up in their role-playing; the edge between fantasy and reality was becoming dangerously blurred. She wanted his words to be as true as his passion.

And they weren’t, they couldn’t be. She was most certainly not his wife. The real Connor McKay didn’t want a wife; he was allergic to commitment. And when his memory returned and he was faced with these days of himself as a loving, caring husband and father, he would not call her his darling. He would probably try to sue her for fraud!

Nervously Courtney pulled herself out of his arms. She turned her back to him as she readjusted her clothes with trembling hands. “Connor, I—we— ”

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” He cupped her shoulders with his big hands and dropped a lingering kiss on the nape of her neck. “I know this isn’t the time or place. I got a little carried away.” He folded his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, holding her tight. “You have that effect on me, Courtney. All my instincts tell me that you always have. And always will, my love.”

His words, so loving and sexy, warmed her and made her sigh. She permitted herself the luxury of remaining in his arms for a few more blissful moments before reluctantly moving away from him.

“I bought something else while I was in town,” she said with a little too much forced gaiety. She was desperate to refocus her thoughts on something other than how much she wanted to be in his arms.

She pulled a game of checkers from the bag. “Since you turned out to be such a card shark and can beat me at every game, I thought we’d try something else, something
I
can win. It’s only fair to warn you that I was a notorious check-ers-shark when I was a kid.”

The occupational therapist had given Connor a deck of cards. He’d retained complete memory—and playing skills—of countless card games that he couldn’t remember learning. He and Courtney often played cards during their visits, and he won each game soundly.

“And you’re hoping to take advantage of a poor amnesiac to secure a win?” Connor challenged, sounding so much like his old self that Courtney started. “I don’t think so, honey. Let the competition begin.”

They played two games—he won one and she won the other—and were in the middle of the tiebreaker when a team

of doctors and nurses swept into the room. Wilson Nollier was leading the pack.

Courtney tensed. She was always on edge when Nollier was present, though Connor accepted him easily, believing him to be the “friend” the attorney claimed he was. Nollier was forever asking questions about Connor’s past— about his childhood, his job, their marriage—in order to “jog” Connor’s memory. She answered them to the best of her ability, trying to cover her lapses—of which there were so many, as she didn’t have a great deal of information about Connor’s life prior to his meeting her.

And of course, anything she said about their marriage was pure fiction- She hated to lie and feared getting caught in the web she’d had to spin. Odd, but during the long hours she spent alone with Connor, there was no tension and no need to lie. He didn’t ask her any questions about himself or their past. It was as if his life had begun afresh in the hospital room and he had no interest in what had happened before.

Connor was interested in hearing about her, though, and Courtney told him about her family and growing up all over the world, about her job at NPB, even about Mark and Marianne’s desperate quest for a baby. He listened intently and remembered everything she told him, often discussing it with her later.

But now, here was Wilson Nollier with the medical team to intrude on their privacy once more. Courtney barely managed to suppress a disgruntled sigh.

Wilson Nollier didn’t notice her less-than-enthusiastic welcome; he never did. “Great news!” he exclaimed with even more ebullience than usual. “You’re going home today, Connor!”

“Yes, Connor. Today’s the day,” seconded Dr. Standish. “April 13. You’re being discharged this afternoon.”

“Of course, you’ll stay here in Shadyside Falls another week, as originally planned, while Sarah’s paperwork is being processed,” Nollier chimed in. “Anyway, Standish

here would like to see you several times before he turns your case over to a physician in D.C.”

“I can leave the hospital now?” Connor repeated. He caught Courtney’s hand and drew her to his side. “That’s the best news I’ve heard since—hmm, it’s hard to come up with an effective comparison when I only have a one-week memory span to draw upon.”

Nollier laughed delightedly. “You’ve kept your sense of humor throughout. You’ve been a true champion, Connor.

I’m proud of you. Your father is, too. I’ve kept him informed daily of your progress, of course. He’d like to visit you. Is that all right with you, Connor?”

Connor shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“He wanted to come as soon as I told him about the accident, but I knew you’d want to be out of the hospital before meeting—er,
seeing—
him,” continued Wilson. “He’ll | come to Mrs. Mason’s place tomorrow morning at ten, if that suits you.”

Connor nodded. “It’s all right with me.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Courtney interjected, shooting Nollier a glare. She was angry on Connor’s behalf. It wasn’t fair for him to meet Richard Tremaine while in such a vulnerable state. If his memory was intact, he would never agree to it and Nollier knew it!

She felt the eyes of everybody in the room upon her, including Connor’s. Uh-oh. Now she had to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why her husband shouldn’t visit with his father.

“We haven’t mentioned this before, but there has been some—uh
—tension
between Connor and his father in the past.” That was true, in an understated sort of way, wasn’t it? Lord, how she hated to lie! “I think we should postpone this visit until Connor is... stronger.”

“I’m strong already, Courtney. You mean until I get my memory back,” Connor corrected her. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. I’ve already figured out that something wasn’t quite right between my family and me. I’ve seen the way you tense up when Wilson asks you about them. I’ve deliberately refrained from asking you anything about them, and I’ve noticed that you haven’t volunteered anything, either, trying to spare me any anxiety, I’m sure.”

“Oh, Connor.” Courtney groaned. He’d misinterpreted everything!

“I appreciate your trying to protect me, darling.” He hugged her to him. “But it’s not necessary. I want to see my father. Since I have no memory of what’s happened before, I’d like to take the opportunity to make a new start.”

He wouldn’t be saying that if knew the whole truth, Courtney knew. Her heart began to pound. “Connor, I think you should know that the problem between you and your father is a little more serious than something like your dad attending a business meeting instead of your sixth birthday party, or being on the road instead of catching your school play. You two—”

“What Connor said about a new start makes excellent sense,” Nollier cut in. “He’s a rational, functioning adult, Courtney. He can make his own decisions and he has.” “How functioning can he be when he can’t remember anything but the past week?” Courtney challenged.

“You’re very protective of your husband, and that’s good,” Nollier said soothingly. “I’m happy that Connor has a wife who so fiercely cares about him. But this time you’re being overprotective, Courtney. Richard is desperate to see his son, and Connor has agreed to see him. It’s going to happen.”

“Connor didn’t agree, he was railroaded into it,” she retorted. “And I—”

“I almost forgot,” Nollier said, cutting her off. “I have news for you, too, Courtney.” A wide grin curved his mouth. “Wonderful news. Remember when you and Connor were talking about your brother and his wife and how much they want to adopt a baby? Well, I kept it in mind because you two young people have come to mean a lot to me and I want to help both you and your respective families. So call your brother and tell him that he’ll be a father within the month. There is a young girl who came to my office looking for a prospective adoptive family..."

“Still mad at Wilson?” Connor asked.

The expression on Courtney’s face gave him his answer before she vehemently replied, “Yes!”

“It was an incredibly obvious bribery attempt on Wilson’s part.” Connor grinned, remembering. “He didn’t say it, but the implied message was definitely, ‘Your brother will have the child he and his wife have been longing for
if
you’ll stop making a fuss about Connor’s father visiting.’ ”

“It was unconscionable!” Courtney exclaimed.

They were having dinner at Tell’s Inn, Shadyside Falls’s most popular restaurant, celebrating Connor’s first meal since his release from the hospital. Mrs. Mason had insisted on baby-sitting Sarah while they dined.

Connor reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “Sweetheart, stop worrying. I promise I won’t become unglued when my father arrives tomorrow.” He smiled wryly. “How can I? I have no memory of him.” Truer words had never been spoken, Courtney thought grimly. And amnesia had nothing to do with Connor’s lack of memories with his father. Ever since Wilson Nollier had announced Richard Tremaine’s impending visit, she had been debating whether or not to tell Connor part of the truth—that he’d never met the man who had fathered him, that he’d been raised by another man. But Dr. Ammon’s description of disassociative amnesia stopped her.

Suppose Connor subconsciously wanted to know and acknowledge Richard Tremaine as his father; the blow to his head and subsequent amnesia gave him the ideal chance to do so, without the bitterness of the past blocking the way.

“When the subconscious finally comes to terms with the painful reality, conscious memory will return, ”
Dr. Ammon had said. Would meeting Richard Tremaine and establishing some sort of rapport with him enable Connor to do that? He really seemed to want to see his father. Would she be doing more harm than good by interfering in any way? Or was that a self-deluding, self-serving theory, designed to ease her conscience as she continued the charade between them?

“It’s just so complicated!” she said, more to herself than to him. “I want to do the right thing—”

Her voice trailed off. Here she sat, having dinner at a cozy table for two and holding hands with him, playing the part of his wife, duping him into playing the part of her husband—and she had the nerve to even
talk
about doing the right thing? She looked at him, her dark eyes troubled. “Connor, I don’t know what to do. I’ve always been forthright and honest. I’ve never—”