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Daddy's Little Memento
Teresa Carpenter
“Have you thought about my proposal?”
She’d like to tell him no, to pretend her every thought hadn’t revolved around him for the last twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, she’d never been that good an actress. “I’m still thinking.”
A sensual smile tilted up one corner of his mouth. “Perhaps you need more persuading.” His husky tone suggested what form his influence would take.
The heat spiraling through her body tempted her to vacillate just so she could feel his mouth against her for real. Last night’s dream had left her unfulfilled. Given half a chance, Alex would take care of that problem.
At a price.
She understood the unspoken terms. Marriage or nothing.
Dear Reader,
April showers are bringing flowers—and a soul-stirring bouquet of dream-come-true stories from Silhouette Romance!
Red Rose needs men! And it’s up to Ellie Donahue to put the town-ladies’ plans into action—even if it means enticing her secret love to return to his former home. Inspired by classic legends, Myrna Mackenzie’s new miniseries, THE BRIDES OF RED ROSE, begins with Ellie’s tale, in The Pied Piper’s Bride (SR #1714).
Bestselling author Judy Christenberry brings you another Wild West story in her FROM THE CIRCLE K miniseries. In The Last Crawford Bachelor (SR #1715), lawyer Michael Crawford—the family’s last single son—meets his match…and is then forced to live with her on the Circle K!
And this lively bunch of spring stories wouldn’t be complete without Teresa Carpenter’s Daddy’s Little Memento (SR #1716). School nurse Samantha Dell reunites her infant nephew with his handsome father, only to learn that if she wants to retain custody then she’s got to say, “I do”! And then there’s Colleen Faulkner’s Barefoot and Pregnant? (SR #1717), in which career-woman Elise Montgomery has everything a girl could want—except the man of her dreams. Will she find a husband where she least expects him?
All the best,
Mavis C. Allen
Associate Senior Editor
Daddy’s Little Memento
Teresa Carpenter
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
In loving memory of Charles Joseph Carpenter.
Daddy, you’ll always be my hero.
TERESA CARPENTER
is a fifth-generation Californian who currently lives amid the chaos of her family in San Diego. She loves living there because she can travel for thirty minutes and be either in the mountains or at the beach. She began her love affair with romances in the seventh grade when she talked her mother into buying her a category romance; she and romance have been together ever since.
Teresa has worked in the banking and mortgage industry for fifteen years. When not working or writing, she likes to spend time with her nieces and nephew, go to the movies and read. A member of RWA/San Diego, she has participated on the chapter board in numerous positions, including president, VP Programs, newsletter editor and conference coordinator. She is especially proud of having received the chapter’s prestigious Barbara Faith Award.
Dear Samantha,
If you’re reading this letter, it means I’m gone and it’s only you and Gabe now. I hope you’ll find comfort in each other, as you both gave me comfort when I needed it most.
How I’ve envied you your strength and sense of purpose. I was weak, always so weak. And yes, I made mistakes.
You were right. I should have told Gabe’s father about him. But he couldn’t miss someone he never knew, and I needed Gabe so much. He’s the only thing I ever did right in my life. He’s my heart and my soul. I couldn’t give him up.
But no more stalling, Gabe’s father is Alexander Sullivan of Paradise Pines, California. I have no proof to offer you beyond a mother’s knowledge. He made a point of being careful; we both did. But Gabe was meant to be. I’ll always be grateful for the time I had with my son.
I rest easy knowing you’ll always be there for Gabe.
Love,
Sarah
Contents
Chapter One (#u3921dbe2-ca3b-5b9c-a418-5509f8a8e038)
Chapter Two (#u327f38f1-06d4-58f8-b962-e93b264c9e84)
Chapter Three (#u4942c3db-7d50-5ed5-a4d6-e2d8b14044cc)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Alex Sullivan was a man who didn’t appreciate surprises.
He believed in rules. Being the oldest of six boys, he’d learned early in life that rules created control from chaos. Being the principal of Paradise Pines High School, he knew control meant the difference between order and anarchy.
So when he opened his door on Sunday morning to find Samantha Dell, the new school nurse, standing on the front deck of his mountain home with a baby in her arms he saw trouble in tight jeans.
“Good morning, Alex.” She graced him with an overbright smile.
“Hello, Samantha,” he greeted the leggy blonde, fighting to control the quick surge of wanting that hit every time he looked into her lively green eyes.
He had a strict personal policy against dating colleagues, a policy she challenged twice a week. Technically, she didn’t work for him, but as the district nurse, she spent two days a week at his high school, which in his mind put her off-limits.
And if that wasn’t enough to put a damper on his desire, the chubby-cheeked kid she held would be.
With some regret he pulled his customary defenses in place and lifted his glance from the sweet curve of her hips up over a pale pink sweater cropped at the waist to her anxious jade-green gaze. Then, almost objectively, he studied the dark-haired, blue-eyed baby in her arms, wondering what brought the pair to his home on a cold January morning.
“Alex, I need to talk to you.” Nerves wore at the edges of Samantha’s smile. She cleared her throat. “May I come in?”
“Sure.”
He glanced down at his T-shirt and shorts still damp from his morning run. Hardly ideal for entertaining. Sundays were his day of excess. He slept an extra hour, ran an extra mile and drank an extra cup of coffee or two while reading the paper. Sunday nights meant dinner at Gram’s. Between the paper and dinner he occupied himself with everything and nothing, whatever struck his fancy.
If he was occasionally lonely, most of the time he appreciated the peace and quiet of his life.
Samantha’s expression warned him his peace was about to be destroyed.
“Come on in.” He stepped aside. He’d seen her with the boy, who couldn’t be more than a year old, around town, but Alex always managed to keep his distance. “Is this your son?”
In the entry she turned to face him, her arms tightening around the little boy until he wiggled in her grasp.
“No. He’s yours,” she said in a rush.
Disbelief rooted him in place. She couldn’t mean that the way it sounded. At a loss, he looked from her to the baby then back at her. “Mine, how?”
She blinked as if surprised by his question, but she quickly recovered. “Yours, as in you fathered him.”
“That’s not possible.” Denial came first, sharp and sure. He always, always protected himself. “I only met you four months ago.”
“I’m not his mother, but you are his father.” Her voice was quietly earnest, compassion lit her direct gaze. “I know this must come as a surprise.”
“Try shock.”
She was serious. This wasn’t some kind of joke. Sudden panic sent adrenaline coursing through his blood. His head went up, his shoulders went back and he stood braced to fight. He felt as if his whole life was being threatened.
Samantha reacted to his aggressive stance by taking a large step back and eyeing him with caution.
Seeing he’d frightened her, he fought for control. Determined to rule his emotions, he wiped the frown from his face and waved her into the living room.
After a brief hesitation, she led the way into the next room then perched on the edge of his black-leather couch and settled the baby on her lap. She swept an affectionate hand over downy-soft brown hair. The baby turned to grin at her then stuffed two fingers in his mouth.
Alex chose the matching chair several feet away. In the four months he’d known her, he’d found her to be intelligent, dedicated and friendly with most people, if a little distant with him. He figured her reserve came from the same belief he held that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.
Eyeing the little guy in the red T-shirt, miniature overalls and baby Reeboks, he didn’t know what to think.
All he saw when he looked into those baby-blue eyes was years of responsibility. As the oldest, Alex had done his baby duty and helped with his five younger brothers when he’d still been a child himself. He’d been fourteen when his parents died in an earthquake in South America, making him the man of the family. They were supposed to have been on a buying trip for the family jewelry store but they’d been on an archeological excavation instead. They’d paid the price for playing when they should have been working. But Alex and his brothers were the ones who suffered.
To this day sorrow at their loss mixed with feelings of resentment.
Thank God for Gram, she took them in, provided a home and worked overtime to hold the business together. Alex did his best to hold the family together.
Make no mistake, he loved his brothers. He also loved kids, as principal of the high school he had to, but the thought of going home to one after spending eight hours with four-hundred teenagers blew his mind.
Not that he believed for a millisecond the boy was his.
“Who’s the kid, Samantha?” he demanded. Again. Hoping for a different explanation, one that made sense.
“Gabe is eleven months old.” She licked her bottom lip, the gesture revealing an underlying uncertainty. One she tried to hide by lifting her chin and meeting his gaze straight on. “He’s my nephew.” She tensed as if bracing herself. “And he is your son.”
He pushed to his feet. He wished she’d stop saying that.
“I don’t have any children. By choice.” And by God’s will.
With a pang, he pushed the thought away.
He saw he’d startled her, but she quickly recovered. “You may not have meant to, but you did. According to my sister’s letter, you met at a Caribbean resort the summer before last.”
She named the resort on St. Thomas where he’d vacationed nearly two years ago. A quiver of dread ran down his spine. So she had the time and place right, but that didn’t mean the boy was his.
“What’s your sister’s name? Why didn’t she tell me herself?”
“Her name was Sarah Travis. We were half sisters. She died in an automobile accident six months ago.”
Sarah. He had the impression of flashing green eyes, short sassy curls and a wanton wildness in bed. She’d been just what he needed to take his mind off one of the darkest moments in his life.
“I remember your sister. I’m sorry to hear of her death. But you’re mistaken about Gabe. He’s not my son.”
“Duck.” Gabe pointed a chubby finger toward a marble statue of birds in flight. “Duck. Duck.”
“Pretty birdies.” Samantha pulled the baby’s hand to her mouth and pretended to bite his finger, then kissed the mock injury. Gabe laughed and stuck his finger in her mouth. She repeated the game then turned her attention back to Alex. Her love for the little boy showed in her tender handling of him even as she pursued the serious conversation.
“My sister was a bit of a free spirit, but she didn’t lie. In fact, she refused to reveal who you were while she was alive. It wasn’t until after she passed away that I found a letter in her safe-deposit box naming you as Gabe’s father.”
“No disrespect to the dead, but your sister was wrong.” He paced, his agitation requiring a release. “We only spent two nights together, and I used protection. I always use protection.”
Samantha lifted a darkened brow. “You’re the principal of a high school, you know as well as I do the only one-hundred-percent effective birth control is abstinence. Condoms can break or fail.” The spark in her green eyes warned Alex she wouldn’t listen to any criticism of her sister. She cleared her throat then continued. “You are Gabe’s father.”
Alex rubbed at the ache building in his left temple. He wasn’t convinced, but she obviously believed what she told him. Which brought him to his next burning question.
“You’ve been in Paradise Pines for four months. Why are you just telling me now? Come to that, why didn’t your sister tell me when she found out she was pregnant?”
Pink bloomed in her cheeks, and she busied herself with Gabe’s clothes, straightening the overall straps over the red shirt and refolding the cuffs of his socks. Gabe put up with the fussing for about twenty seconds before bucking his small body, demanding to be put down. In his struggle, his hand caught in the neck of her sweater dragging it down.
Alex’s breath hitched at the sight of cream lace cupping creamier flesh. Samantha quickly righted the garment, flashing him a self-conscious look. No need. He’d already noticed her trim little figure, and she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
She tried to calm Gabe, but he bucked harder and squealed, fighting her efforts.
For a moment, Alex’s gaze connected with the child’s blue eyes. Sullivan blue? His will and determination certainly matched that of any Sullivan.
“Let him down,” Alex urged.
Samantha sent a doubtful look around the room at the glass-and-chrome tables, a high-tech entertainment center and the book-lined floor-to-ceiling shelves. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
