“Did I say that?”
Chase glowered at her, but took the tissue anyway and honked into it, after which Luanne suggested he go get himself some breakfast.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat something, honey—”
“I said, I ain’t hungry!”
Irritation flashed inside her, so hot and fierce it scared her half to death, adding a walloping dose of guilt to her emotions. She’d never once laid a hand on her child. Yet now, when she most needed to have control over herself, there were times when it was everything she could do not to smack him for what, in any other child, she would have called out-and-out insolence. He knew how much she detested that particular backwoods expression, one that wealth and success had never been able to eradicate from Jeff’s speech, either.
But this was not the time to call him on it.
“Fine,” Luanne said in a shaky voice, turning her attention to the dog and away from the pair of astute silver eyes that she wished would just take their astuteness and go away. “But Bo is. So go fill his dog dish, then go on outside and play ball with him for a little while, before it gets any hotter.”
To her amazement—and immense relief—Chase did as he was told.
Minor crisis resolved for the moment, she turned to the much bigger one standing far too close for her comfort. She did not wish him to find her wanting, which she feared he would if he studied her hard enough and long enough. But, oh, she was so weary. Crossing her arms, she leaned heavily against the wall. “I think it’s pretty obvious Chase can’t take any more stress right now.” She looked at him directly. “And, frankly, neither can I.”
Alek’s mouth went thin and tight. “I’m not turning my back on my son.”
“But you said—”
“And I meant it. I’m not here to take him away.”
The determined set to his features told another story, however. “Then what, exactly, do you have in mind?”
A pause, then he said, “There didn’t seem much point in formulating a plan until we’d talked things through.”
Luanne had nothing to say to that, which seemed to rattle Alek. Again, he swiped a hand through burnished dark-brown hair much shorter now, though still long enough to defy taming. Just like him, she imagined. He glanced away, then back, his brow pleated. “I’m flying completely blind here, Luanne. I know the timing couldn’t be worse on this, but…” His mouth twisted in frustration. “Chase isn’t just my son. He’s my heir. Not just to a throne, but a sizable fortune as well.”
“We don’t need your money.” Might as well get that point cleared up, right now. “Jeff left enough for us to live comfortably on for some time. I finally got my degree, too, a couple years ago. Once I get my certification, I can start teaching as soon as this one’s old enough to go into daycare.” Another stab to her heart: she’d opted to stay home for Chase, had fully intended to do the same with the new baby. Now, however… “We won’t starve, Alek.”
“That doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, and that set her to trembling all over again.
Her lip stung. She hadn’t realized she’d been biting down on it. “Jeff’s name’s on the birth certificate.” At Alek’s stunned expression, she added, “I couldn’t very well put down yours, could I?”
Her grandmother’s old cuckoo clock chimed the half hour before Alek said, “I know I’ve done precious little to earn your trust, but please believe me—I only want to work out whatever’s best for all of us. Granted, I don’t have the slightest idea how to go about that, but we have to start somewhere. And the sooner, the better.”
Luanne swiped at her nose with the back of her hand, trying to convince herself she wasn’t trapped. Oh, Lord…the last thing she wanted to do was deal with any of this. But she was in no condition, physically or mentally, to put up the kinds of walls now that would only give Alek a reason to use his power and influence down the road.
She frowned. If she lived to be a hundred and ten, she’d never understand why Jeff had told Alek about Chase when he’d been so all-fired intent on Chase’s real father never getting the opportunity to mess things up.
The baby kicked, hard. Luanne tried not to react, but there Alek was, right in front of her with his arms outstretched, asking if she was all right.
“I’m fine.” She stood up straight to show him she didn’t need his help, either long-or short-term. “So tell me—if it hadn’t’ve been for Chase, would you be here right now?”
She couldn’t read his expression. “To be perfectly honest…I don’t know. Oh, I would have made sure you were all right, I suppose, but…” He ended the sentence with a sad shrug.
Well. Since it was obvious none of this was going to go away and leave her be, she let out a long sigh, then turned and waddled down the hall toward the kitchen, feeling like somebody else had moved into her body until the rightful owner came to her senses. “You hungry? I could fix you some breakfast—”
“Luanne?”
She told herself it was only because she was so on edge that his voice sounded like a caress. That it was only because she was seven months pregnant and a new widow that anything of Alek Vlastos had any kind of power over her at all. But the fact was she’d never felt more alone in her life. Or more helpless. And right this very instant a large part of her wanted to walk smack into those big old strong arms and cry her eyes out.
However, since she had no earthly intention of letting that happen, she simply turned, one hand on the kitchen door frame, and said, “What?”
“I could be angry as well, you know.”
Holding back the tears, she swiftly turned and headed on into the kitchen.
Holding back the memories of that night eleven years ago was something else again….
Sitting in the Porsche in the pouring rain, wondering if she’d truly gone and lost her mind, Luanne could just make out Alek’s mad dash from Ed’s to the car. Not that running did him any good, seeing as he was already soaked through. Unmindful of the wet leather seat—he’d left his door open—he scooted behind the steering wheel and slammed shut his door, shoving one hand through his dripping hair which, combined with his shadowed jaw, made him look almost…wild. For a brief moment she thought he might shake himself like a dog, finding herself mildly disappointed when he didn’t. Her gaze then lingered on his body just long enough to determine that what the wet shirt and jeans had molded themselves to was lean and hard, and that this was having a profound and disturbing effect on her good sense.
She quickly looked away. Here her nerves had just settled down some, and then all that lean, male hardness had to go sending them haywire all over again.
Not, however, because he frightened, or even intimidated her, despite his being more refined and classier than any man she’d ever met, let alone ridden alone in a car with. Oh, no. What had gotten to her, from the moment they met—and what had, paradoxically, made her turn away when she’d seen his car in the lot—was what she’d seen in his eyes.
Working in a bar the way she did, Luanne had gotten real good at discerning, from a person’s body language and the expression in his eyes, not just whether he was dealing with some trial or other, but what that trial might be. She wasn’t sure whether this ability of hers was a gift or a burden, but her knack for pinpointing people’s troubles had proved to be extremely useful on more than one occasion.
Maybe she was only twenty-one, but she’d already seen for herself any number of times that there was a lot of truth in what folks said about money not buying happiness. An adage she suspected held especially true in this case. Off and on throughout the evening she had found