Shipwrecked Page 11

  Stunned amazement shadowed his face as he gazed at her with pain filled eyes. “I need more information before..."

  Before? He wasn't sure. He was wavering. If he loved her at all, his love wasn't strong enough to navigate these seas. The island had created an illusion of love and oneness. It hadn't been real. It was better that she found out now than after months or years of marriage. “I see.” Pushing past him, she muttered, “Excuse me. I have to be going."

  Scott's hand shot out and his fingers circled her wrist in an iron grip, tugging her back. “Don't go,” he growled. “We've not resolved anything."

  Looking up at him, she said between clenched teeth, “Please release me.” If he knew her at all, he'd recognise the deadly quiet tones of her voice to be lethal. No one pushed her around.

  "No, Katie. Not like this. We said wedding vows. We're married."

  She waited for him to say I love you, but the words didn't come. Taking the carved wooden ring off her finger, ordering her tears to stay put and not betray her now, she took his hand and put the symbol of his false love inside. “Goodbye, Scott.” She closed his fingers over the ring and smiled tremulously at him. “I'm sure that your father will advise you that we're not legally married, thus you owe me nothing."

  Scott didn't move a muscle. He didn't release his hold on her wrist anymore than he released his hold on her heart. “I meant every word of my vows to you. What if you're expecting my child?"

  Too quickly, she said, almost breathless, “I'm sure I'm not,” she lied. She was glad now that she'd not divulged how ill she'd been feeling every morning or how lethargic she'd been. What if the Vanderhornes decided to take her baby away from her? She had no protection against their wealth, power, and influence. It was far better they never know or suspect she carried a Vanderhorne child.

  With a bitterness born of heart-shattering pain, she patted the top of Scott's closed hand. “I can see now that this will never work. We were in a different world on the island. We were different people. Treasure the memories but let's not make each other miserable trying to be people we aren't.” Would she never escape this nightmare? Would he draw out this unbearable pain? “You have obligations here. You have a life to resume."

  Thinking about the baby that was almost definitely a surety, she released a shuddering sigh that wracked her entire body. “And so do I."

  "Nothing's certain yet. I'm not sure of..."

  "I am. Goodbye, Scott. I hope the three of you are very happy.” She tugged her hand free of his slackening grasp. On a choked sob, she added as she left the cabin, “Please forget me.” As she intended to forget him, praying their baby would look like her and not alert anyone to the fact that she or he was a Vanderhorne.

  She half expected, half hoped, that Scott would follow her, but he didn't. After a moment's hesitation outside the door, she lifted her chin and forced her feet to move forward. Reporters converged on her almost immediately, blinding her, deluging her with questions she couldn't and wouldn't answer.

  Chapter Six

  Scott's life took on the dimensions of a horror novel. Julia had moved into his parent's mansion and was constantly underfoot. Katie had disappeared off the face of the earth before he'd come to his senses and tried to follow her to bring her back. And Julia expected him to marry her in a huge wedding ceremony and denounce his love for Katie.

  "Scott, darling, there you are.” Julia stepped up her pace to join him, curling her fingers around his upper arm. “You've been avoiding me, naughty boy. Are you one of those men who can't take being around pregnant women?” Coyly, she fluttered her absurdly long lashes up at him.

  He wondered if they were false, like her charm. What had he ever seen in her? She wasn't authentic. She wasn't even warm. Katie was real. She was warm. And funny. And adorable. And sexy. And she made his blood sizzle just thinking about her.

  His private detectives hadn't been able to find her and he was about to go out of his mind with worry. If she'd gone home to her father, which is where he'd have expected her to go, she was using one hell of a disguise to escape the notice of his men. He couldn't imagine it would be too easy to hide with a one of a kind figure like hers. No matter her hairstyle or hair colour, those glorious breasts would stand out.

  She'd not returned to work at the karate studio. Nor had she returned to her apartment. No one had heard from her, or so they said.

  The thought nagged the back of his brain that she might have been shipwrecked again. It's not as if those things never happened, as he well knew. The odds were a billion to one, or greater, that the same person could be marooned on a deserted island again, but he was about ready to search every strip of land within one thousand miles of Fiji.

  Checking his watch, he cursed the private detective for not checking in yet. The man was more than an hour late. He willed the telephone to ring.

  "What's wrong, Scottie? Are you going somewhere?” Sidling up to him, rubbing against him, Julia smiled seductively. “Can I go with you? You've not taken me out since you've been home. You've become positively boring. Pregnant women won't break, you know.” Trailing a long fingernail down his arm, she blew him a kiss. “We're even allowed to make love."

  The thought sickened him. The only woman he wanted to make love to, the only woman he wanted to have a baby with, was his wife, which is still how he thought of Katie. He'd forever think of her that way.

  "No thank you, Julia.” He tried to keep the disgust out of his voice. It wasn't her fault that he didn't love her anymore, that he loved Katie. Nor was it wholly her fault that she was pregnant with his baby. How fate could have been so cruel as to do this to him, he didn't know.

  She unbuttoned his top two buttons and slid her hand inside, rubbing his chest.

  But he felt nothing except loathing. Stepping back, he rebuttoned his shirt.

  Pouting, Julia's eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “When are we going to get married? Why won't you talk to me about our wedding? We have to start planning it. I'd like to be married before I start showing."

  Big lumps blocked his throat for several moments. He didn't want to marry her now or ever, baby or no baby. But what kind of a cad did that make him if he didn't marry his child's mother? On a ragged sigh, he told her, “Come into the parlour with me. We need to talk.” After she'd followed him inside, he closed and locked the doors behind him and motioned for her to take a seat.

  She sat primly, with her hands folded in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankle. Even though she had no plans for the day, she wore a fine linen suit that dripped with diamonds and highly polished high heels. Her silvery blonde hair twisted up into an elegant French knot. “As you know, time is against us. I thought we'd have a small affair here in your home, with our families and only two or three hundred of our closest friends. I spoke to the famous wedding consultant, Andre Perini, and for only $50,000 down, he can pull all our details together within two weeks. What do you think?"

  Set up, railroaded over, fury kicked every nerve ending. Pacing in front of her, his hands safely tucked deep into his pants pockets so he couldn't punch some innocent item, agitation made him want to yell and scream. Instead, he kept his tones very calm and so well-measured that he could have successfully challenged his father in court and won. “I don't want to get married. I don't love you. If I were to marry you, I'd only be doing so out of a sense of duty. We'd be miserable."

  "I already released the announcement of our engagement to the press. I gave them a wedding date..."

  Rage ripped through him making him growl deep in his chest. Itchy fingers clenched and unclenched at his side. “What gave you the right to announce our wedding? I have no intention of marrying you, especially not after this. What's Katie going to think?” Katie would never speak to him again if she didn't kill him first. And she'd be justified.

  Sniffing back tears, Julia stood, facing off against him. “What about our baby? Are you going to abandon him like you're abandoning me?” Hatred glittered in her watery eyes
. “It's always that horrid Katie? All you can think about is her feelings. What about mine?"

  "I love her. She's my wife..."

  "She's your whore, you mean. Would you embarrass your family forever by marrying that little guttersnipe? She's not fit to work as a servant in your house much less be your wife and the mother of your children."

  Blazing hot anger sideswiped him. Every nerve ending bristled. How dare she utter such insults about his wife and the woman he adored. Raising his hand, making her flinch, he jerked his finger at the door. “Get out of my house. You'll be hearing from my father when we sue for custody of the baby. You're not suited to be the mother of my child."

  "You can't mean this, Scottie. She's brainwashed you. You're suffering from a nervous breakdown from being marooned on that horrible island with that—that creature.” Her bravado was ruined when she faltered back a few steps in the face of his glowering.

  Pure darkness settled over his heart. Although he would love his child, no matter who the mother was, he felt close to hating the woman standing before him. How had he never noticed what an evil heart beat in her chest? Or how uncharitable she was?

  "You wouldn't dare! Your father would never turn against me that way. Your parents adore me...” Crimson stole into her cheeks and he was afraid she'd work herself into a faint.

  "What makes you think we'd turn against our son, Julia? I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't get out of the room in time when you came in, so I made myself inconspicuous. As such, I heard every uncharitable thing you said about Scott's Katie. She is far from being a guttersnipe and certainly not a harlot. My son married her in good faith and because he loves her. It's unfortunate that you just happened to be expecting his child upon his return.” Dorothea detached herself from the back corner of the room and stepped into a stream of sunlight in front of the veranda doors. She tapped her chin with her finger, the fountain of sunlight glinting off her ruby and emerald rings.

  His mother circled the frozen in place Julia. Her eyes narrowed. “You know, you've been in very good health and fine figure for an expectant mother. When I was expecting Scott, I suffered from a lot of morning sickness and felt nauseated all the time. You've not been ill once, have you?"

  Covering her mouth with her hand, Julia didn't quite hide her gasp in time. Terror filled her eyes. “I-I just hid all signs of my delicate condition. It wouldn't be good manners to flaunt my aches and pains. But certainly, I have them the same as every other expectant mother."

  Suspicion nagged him again, this time almost choking him in its intensity. Even his mother entertained doubts as to Julia's pregnancy. But the doctor had confirmed it. He hadn't taken her word alone on her condition. His words came out so low he could barely hear himself speak. “You're not really expecting my baby, are you? You've been lying."

  Without waiting for his ex-fiancée to answer, not that he was willing to listen to her anyway, he turned to his mother. “Did she say anything to you about being pregnant while I was gone, until I was rescued?"

  His mother chuckled humourously. Strolling to her son's side, she linked her fingers through his and squeezed his hand, filling him with her strength and comfort. “Not one word. She only told your father and I that a grandchild was on the way when we received notification that you'd been rescued and that you were on the way home. Everything was so chaotic that it was one shock right after another. We didn't really have time or energy to question it. Of course, we never dreamed that she'd lie to us."

  Julia's face pinched, adding twenty years to her appearance. Sparks flashed in her dilated eyes. “I'm not lying. I gave you proof."

  It occurred to him how easily she could've paid off the doctor or someone on his staff to give a false report. “I'd like a second opinion from a doctor of my choosing."

  Julia paled, faltering. She clutched the back of a nearby chair for support. “You don't need to do that."

  "And even if the results show that you are pregnant, I'm ordering a paternity test."

  "You wouldn't dare. How can you stand there and accuse me of lying when I'm in this weakened condition? All this stress can cause a miscarriage."

  "Not likely in your second trimester, dear. If you're in your second trimester, that is. And if stress was likely to cause you to lose the baby, wouldn't you have been more stressed when Scott first disappeared?"

  "All good questions, Mother.” Scott's voice couldn't get any drier. “I'm not changing my mind, Julia. In fact,” he paused to let his words sink in. “I'd like to go for that test right now. Mother, can you call your doctor and see if he'll squeeze us in today?"

  "Of course. I'll call right now.” Dorothea picked up the receiver and started to punch in numbers on the keypad.

  "Don't do that,” Julia ordered in a clipped, regal voice. She sank onto the couch, and buried her face in her hands. “I'm not pregnant."

  "Why did you lie? Did you think we wouldn't find out?” A heavy weight lifted from Scott's heart and he wanted to shout for joy. Simultaneously, sadness settled on his heart for the child that wasn't. This strange mix of emotions confused him.

  Dorothea paused with the phone to her ear. Her brows drew together in a single line. “She thought she could marry you and then fake a miscarriage. She didn't expect you to demand that your doctor go behind and check her doctor."

  His mother tsk-tsked, as she shook her head. “I think you should pack your bags and leave our home immediately. And please don't come back."

  Tears streamed down Julia's face. Pathos choked her voice as she flung herself into Scott's arms. “I love you, Scott. I did this for you. For us. I didn't want to lose you. I knew that if you gave us a chance, you'd realise you still love me."

  Pity wound around his heart. But not enough to ruin his life or hers, by marrying her. “I love Katie. I didn't mean to hurt you. But even if I'd never met Katie I know now that I was never truly in love with you. Marriage between us would've been disastrous. You'll meet someone else and fall in love and discover that what you felt for me isn't real love."

  His ex-fiancée swiped at tears trickling down her cheeks. Those she missed plopped to the floor, making a ring of wetness by her feet. Her clinging almost suffocated him, yet pity swelled in his chest. “Oh yes it is. I'll never love anyone else. When you disappeared, I wanted to die. I can't live without you."

  "Yes you can,” he said, separating her from him. Over his shoulder, he told his mother, “Call the chauffeur to take her home. She shouldn't drive in this condition.” He'd never forgive himself if she wrecked and injured herself.

  Dorothea spoke quietly into the phone and then cradled it. Smoothing her slacks down her thighs, she unlocked the doors and opened them wide. “Peter will be here momentarily. Perhaps I should call your mother to come stay with you until you're more yourself, my dear?"

  Julia flounced out into the foyer, her nose high in the air. Runny makeup and tears ravaged her cheeks and her eyes were puffy. “The press will hear about this. Don't think you'll get away with such shabby, unacceptable treatment of me.” She slammed out the door, not waiting for Peter to escort her.

  "It's time to find your Katie and bring her home, son.” Dorothea's gaze overflowed with motherly love and concern. “Take a woman's advice. Don't take no for an answer. Sweep her off her feet. Get down on your knees and beg her to take you back if you have to.” A deep sigh erupted from her lips. “I'm sorry for my part in trying to make you marry Julia. I was wrong."

  It was his turn for confession. “I've been trying to find Katie. My private investigators are coming up empty handed.” Nights of sleepless worry were catching up with him. Exhaustion settled deep in his bones. But the fear of never finding her took more tolls on his heart and soul. On a ragged breath, he turned to his mother and hugged her tightly, leaning his cheek on the top of her silvery head. “God, I hope she'll forgive me and take me back. I don't know what I'll do if she won't."

  His mother pulled slightly away and peered into his face. “Don't
even think that way. If she loves you, she'll take you back. She might make you grovel and squirm for a while, but be persistent. Sweep that girl off her feet and make her understand that you can't live without her."

  Within moments, Scott had slung an overnight bag onto his shoulder that held two days worth of clothing, even though he feared it would take longer to find Katie. He slammed his front door over his father's protests. He almost fell over the man reaching out to ring his doorbell. “Who are you?” He'd better not be another pesky reporter wanting a story. He'd nearly rearranged the last guy's face.

  On second thought, however, maybe a reporter was exactly whom he needed to help find Katie. A couple of private eyes couldn't span the entire world quickly, but a newscast could. “Are you a reporter?” He took measure of the man, noting his sharp, tailored suit and crisp hair. In particular, he noted his lack of reporter apparatus such as a camera, notepad, or tape recorder. Disappointed, he grunted, “Ring the doorbell. A servant will answer,” as he prepared to pass.

  The man stuck out his hand as his gaze raked over Scott. “William Scott Vanderhorne the fourth, I presume?"

  No—Tarzan, he almost snapped caustically. A Tarzan who had to find his Jane at all costs. Instead, he said warily, “It depends who's looking."

  Reaching inside his jacket, the man extracted a gold tipped business card and held it out to Scott. “I'm a talent scout. I represent a movie producer that would like to offer you and Katie McLaughlin roles in a major motion picture. There'd be product promotion as well.” His grey-eyed glance slid to the solid oak door. “Is Miss McLaughlin here? Can I speak to both of you?"

  Scott had to laugh, which he did in the man's face. “Me? In the movies?” The idea was ludicrous. He couldn't act. “Is it The Anniversary of the Return to Gilligan's Island?” It must be some island flick if they wanted them.

  A ghost of a smile curved the man's lips. “I'd like to speak to both of you together."