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A faint sense of disappointment rippled through her. So he wasn’t to be involved in the purchase beyond today’s inspection. She dismissed the thought with surprising difficulty. “In that case, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, James.” She slid into the driver’s seat and he got in beside her. “I’ll have you back at your car in fifteen minutes.”
“There’s no hurry,” he said, catching her unawares. “I still have some matters to discuss with you.”
Unaccountably her spirits lifted. He probably wanted to question her about the local zoning laws and heritage listing requirements, but it didn’t seem to matter. She only knew she was happy to continue the conversation.
They had reached her house before she realized he hadn’t asked any of his questions, talking instead about inconsequential matters. “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she offered and found herself holding her breath as she waited for his answer.
He nodded, his face impassive. She couldn’t tell whether he was as drawn to her as she was to him, but at least he hadn’t refused. Her step was light as she led the way inside.
Her home was modest but well-cared-for. Not what he would be accustomed to, she thought as they stepped over toys in the hallway to reach the living room. She’d decorated it herself with cream wallpaper, a handwoven Mexican rug and a few inventive touches such as a pottery jar holding giant paper sunflowers.
James settled himself on the sofa while she fetched coffee and homemade walnut cake. But he refused the cake and his coffee sat untouched at his elbow as he leaned toward her. “I have something to tell you, Zoe.”
He looked so serious that alarm shrilled through her. “If you’re worried about the heritage listing—”
“This isn’t about the property.” He forestalled her. “It’s about Genevieve.”
For a moment the name confused her, then the truth dawned. “You mean Genie. What about her?”
James reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a sheaf of documents. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but there’s absolutely no doubt. The child you know as Genie is my daughter, Genevieve. All the proof you need is in these reports.”
Chapter Two
Zoe felt as if she had stepped off a sandbank into deep water, which was rapidly closing over her head. Her skin turned icy and every breath became a huge effort. This was how it felt to drown, she thought, as if seeing her own reaction from a distance.
“She’s what?”
“She’s the daughter who was taken from me eighteen months ago. Her real name is Genevieve Matilda Langford.”
The drowning sensation went on and on, but there was also the sense of seeing herself from above as Zoe dispassionately noted every detail of her pose which miraculously hadn’t altered.
She sat frozen with one slim leg crossed over the other in a calm precision which now seemed to mock her other self, watching from above. She had actually thought that James wanted to prolong their meeting for other than business reasons. The truth chilled her beyond belief. All his interest in her marriage and her child had been designed to draw her out, to confirm what he must already have known. Like a panther toying with its prey, he had been waiting for the right moment to deliver his devastating news.
With an agonizing rush she inhabited her body again, feeling every nuance of the pain squeezing her heart relentlessly. Her bones felt liquid and she knew she couldn’t have stood up to save her life.
She was aware of James’s tension as if they were connected by invisible wires. The denials she held back in her throat vibrated along the connection like the ghostly echo of a million callers down a telephone line. He watched her silently, apparently waiting for her to say something. But her mind was gripped by so much pain and confusion that speech seemed beyond her.
He had come to claim Genie. The realization burned through her tortured mind, erasing all other coherent thoughts. Her beautiful, beloved daughter belonged to him.
It couldn’t be true. It was all some terrible nightmare from which she would awaken at any moment. She would feel Genie’s insistent tug on her hair and she would pry her eyes open to protest that it was too early to get up. “But the sun’s awake, Mummy,” Genie would insist. Laughing, Zoe would swing her legs over the edge of the bed and catch the child’s squirming body to her for a good-morning hug.
“Zoe? Are you all right?”
It wasn’t Genie’s voice but James’s vibrant baritone, which banished the vision and replaced it with a harsh reality that refused to be denied. Without knowing it, Zoe had squeezed her eyes shut. She opened them now, knowing that the full extent of her pain would be visible to James who was reaching out to her.
She shrugged away his offered hand. “I’m all right. I just…this is…I don’t know what to say.”
He looked down at his long-fingered hands then back to her again, his cerulean gaze mirroring her torment. “There’s nothing to say. You’ve done a wonderful job of taking care of her.”
She recoiled from the decisive edge in his voice. Done, past tense. She found her voice with an effort. “You make it sound as if it’s over.”
His head jerked up. “You know it is, Zoe. You were only able to foster her while her family couldn’t be traced. Now she has family. I’m her father and she belongs with me.”
“But Ruth told me…” Zoe clamped her jaw shut on the accusations welling up inside her. Ruth had managed to convince her that Genie’s father was an unfeeling brute who didn’t care about his wife and daughter.
James gave a resigned sigh. “Whatever she told you about me is probably as much a fabrication as the identity she used.”
Confusion coiled through Zoe. Throughout the house inspection she’d begun to feel compassion toward him. Yet Ruth had described him as hard and uncaring, too preoccupied with business affairs to have much time for his family. Which was the real James Langford? she wondered.
His public image was of a stop-at-nothing entrepreneur who had built a global communications business from nothing. The Aussie Bulldozer, Time magazine had called him. Now Zoe was standing in the bulldozer’s path, and he would go over her if she forced him to. But he would not be stopped, that much she knew with a numbing certainty.
She clutched at another straw. “You said your wife took your daughter to another country.” Perhaps this was some ghastly case of mistaken identity.
He nodded. “She did—Australia. My company was setting up a satellite communications network in the Middle East when we met. Ruth was handling security for the project. Neither of us planned on what happened, but it was a forbidding, lonely place for a foreigner. The political situation was delicate, and we couldn’t move outside our headquarters without an armed escort.” He gave a wry grimace. “In a situation like that, people turn to each other and form bonds more quickly than they might under normal conditions.”
Her throat felt gravelly. “You were married in the Middle East?”
“We hadn’t planned to until Ruth became pregnant.” He frowned at Zoe’s sharply indrawn breath. “Don’t look so scandalized. We took precautions, but Ruth suffered a bout of food poisoning and her contraception failed. Ruth wasn’t really the marrying kind, and I doubt if she would have said yes if not for her pregnancy.”
From her short acquaintance with his wife, Zoe suspected he was right. Ruth had given the impression that she enjoyed flaunting her power over men, but hated being pinned down for long. As a mother, she took little interest in the childish milestones Zoe had dutifully reported to her each day.
In many ways Ruth had reminded Zoe of a butterfly, moving restlessly from flower to flower, hating to be impeded in her travels. She hadn’t struck Zoe as a woman for whom marriage and motherhood were natural choices.
James watched the expressions moving over her face. “I see you know what she was like.”
“I only knew her for a short time when she moved into an apartment across the road,” Zoe explained, her voice deepened by the ache in her throat. “She called herself Ruth Sullivan and said she was working as a courier in the city. Sometimes she left Genie with me overnight, so I was accustomed to having her sleep here. But when Ruth didn’t return to collect her for two days, I went to her address to see if she was ill. There was no answer and her neighbors hadn’t seen her in days, so I contacted the police.”
“Who traced her movements and discovered she’d been killed in that sailing accident,” James supplied. His tone said he was still adjusting to the discovery. In the midst of her own desolation, Zoe felt an unexpected wave of compassion for him.
“According to the police, she was involved with a pretty reckless crowd who encouraged her to try all sorts of dangerous sports,” Zoe added.
His sigh of resignation hissed between them. “Knowing Ruth, she wouldn’t have needed much encouragement. She enjoyed living on the edge. It made her feel alive. Working in the Middle East suited her need for adventure. I should have known better than to expect her to settle into domesticity with me.”
“What happened between you?” Through her hurt, Zoe felt compelled to ask the question, to know everything about Genie’s brief life before she came to Zoe. Until now she’d only had Ruth’s account to go by.
A shadow crossed his chiseled features. “When we found out she was pregnant, I suggested returning to Australia so the baby could be born here.” He lapsed into a long, nerve-stretching silence before continuing. “For a while, things seemed to work out, but Ruth became restless. I had to return to the Middle East to complete our contract. Ruth wanted to come with me, but Genevieve was not yet two. I tried to cut my trip as short as I could. I was only supposed to be gone for a month.”
His deep voice cracked. The pain caused by his memories enfolded Zoe as if it was her own—which in a way, it was. But for these events triggered half a world away, she would not now be facing the worst moment of her life.
“She couldn’t wait a month?” she managed to ask, saying the unsayable for him. How could any woman, the mother of his child, not wait a lifetime for the man she loved, if that was what was required?
“In the end…circumstances…intervened. It was much longer than a month before I was able to return,” he rasped. “By the time I got back she was gone, taking my daughter with her.”
A distant part of her mind noticed that he made no attempt to explain what circumstances had kept him away. Was it the pressure of business? Or, heaven forbid, another woman? Neither were excusable when he had a wife and baby waiting for him at home.
Whatever had happened was none of her business except as it concerned Genie, she told herself. He was probably only telling her the story at all to help her understand how Genie came to be in Zoe’s care. The crazy part was she did understand. In his shoes she would have done everything in her power to find her child, just as James had. But the mother in her railed against it with every breath in her body. How in the name of all that was right and true could she face giving Genie up?
“I know this must be hard for you,” James conceded. Distantly she registered that he felt badly about what he was doing. Yet she also sensed that nothing she said or did, no amount of tears or pleading, would change his course any more than one rock can alter the eventual course of a mighty river.
“Hard?” she echoed, her eyes blurring as she lifted them to him. “This goes way beyond hard, all the way to impossible. I doubt if you have the slightest idea how hard this is, Mr. Langford.”
It registered that familiarity had gone, along with any sense of the attraction she had begun to feel toward him.
He gestured toward the documents lying between them on the coffee table. “Are you sure I don’t know how this feels? If you come back to my office, I can show you files stacked higher than that table with reports and false leads, rumors and red herrings, as well as hard intelligence gathered inch by painstaking inch since the day Genevieve was taken away from me.” His jaw hardened. “So don’t tell me I can’t understand how it feels.”
The difference was that he had had longer to adjust to the situation, if that helped any. Somehow she doubted it. And if he got his way, she would have to live without Genie a lot longer than James had. She forced herself to ask, “What do you intend to do now?”
He paced to the window, parting the curtain to survey the suburban vista beyond before swinging back to face her. Compassion softened the lines etched around his features, but his eyes shone with purpose. “I intend to get to know my child, be a father to her again. We’ve been kept apart quite long enough.”
Her mind refused to deal with any of this. Even acknowledging that she had heard him would lead to discussing ways and means. Suddenly she understood how bereaved people could prattle on about trivial matters, anything to avoid facing the reality of their loss.
She locked her hands around her knees, her thoughts stupidly sticking on the Strathfield mansion. Why had he wanted to see it if he had no real interest in the property? “This whole meeting was a sham, wasn’t it?” she said woodenly. “Have you enjoyed playing cat and mouse with me all afternoon, relishing the moment when you could spring your trap?”
Anger flashed in his vivid gaze. “It wasn’t a sham,” he denied. “My company does intend to purchase a property where we can accommodate visiting executives. But you’re right, it wasn’t why I made the appointment with you.” He glanced around. “I wanted to see for myself what you were like and how my child has been living.”
Zoe drew herself up to her full height, anger running like a river through her. She had a fair idea how inadequate her modest home must seem to someone with his background. “How dare you come here and check me out in such an underhanded way?” she demanded. “I may not have your resources, but Genie has wanted for nothing while she’s been in my care.”
James’s face clouded. He remained as still as a statue at the window, but his hands balled into fists at his sides. “If our roles were reversed, you’d have done exactly the same thing. Fortunately the team of private investigators I’ve had on the case since she disappeared assure me that Genevieve has flourished in your care. What I’ve seen for myself this afternoon bears it out, so you have no need to be angry on that score. On the contrary, I’m eternally grateful for all you’ve done.”
His appreciation fell on deaf ears as she recoiled almost physically at the idea of being investigated. It reminded her all too vividly of Andrew’s endless suspicions and questioning, even to the extent of watching her from his car to make sure she was indeed going to the supermarket and not to a meeting with another man.
“You’ve had me under investigation?” she repeated, revulsion sending shivers arrowing down her spine. “It didn’t occur to you to simply knock on the door and ask me anything you wanted to know?”
He spread his fingers wide. “I didn’t wish to confront you until I was sure of my facts. Over the months I’ve had to deal with a string of false leads and disappointments. If the child had turned out not to be my daughter, you would never have known of my interest.”
Iced water slid along her veins. “I can’t believe you had me watched and every detail of my life investigated without me knowing anything about it. It’s almost…” She sprang to her feet, her mind groping for the right word. “Voyeuristic. How many other people have you spied on without their knowledge, pawing through the details of their lives?”
He was beside her in two long strides, his hands firm as they gripped her upper arms and he forced her to look at him. “Stop this, Zoe. I know you’re shocked and you have every right to be. But I refuse to apologize for using every trick in the book, dirty or otherwise, to find my child. She is what matters here, not my feelings and not yours.”
To her horror she felt two tears slide gracelessly down her hot cheeks. He swore beneath his breath and his hold tightened until she was cradled against the hard wall of his chest. His fingers wound through her hair in a comforting caress. “Don’t, please.”
It was the sort of embrace she might have used to comfort Genie. Yet without Zoe being sure when or how it happened, it swiftly turned into something more. She knew she was vulnerable and her judgment was not to be trusted at this moment, but neither could she deny the lightning flash of awareness that arced between them as his hands slid down her neck and settled on her trembling shoulders.
It came as absolutely no surprise when his lips found the top of her head. Rather, it felt almost inevitable, as if the awareness she had sensed the moment she opened the door to him was no more than a prelude to finding herself in his arms.
Her pulses went haywire as his lips traveled to her forehead. Slowly the shudder of suppressed sobs became something deeper, more elemental. It took every bit of self-control she possessed to remember who he was and why she was in his embrace.
Genie.
Desperately she focused on her child’s name and felt her strength of will flowing back. As soon as she placed her palms against the padded muscle of his shoulders, he released her. But he remained no more than a step away as if expecting her to crumble again, his hair-trigger reflexes set to catch her.
“I’m sorry,” she said as if apologizing only for the momentary weakness.
His quick, wry smile stressed his understanding of her need to deny what they both knew had just happened. It was an explosive situation. Emotions were running at fever-pitch. His expression told her he didn’t believe she was apologizing for her weakness any more than she did, but he was decent enough to let it serve. “No need for apologies,” he said, finally moving away so she could release the breath she’d been unaware of holding. “It’s a tough situation all around.”
Holding all the cards, he could afford to be generous. Still she couldn’t dismiss the gentleness with which he’d held her or the fiery way his lips had burned through her skin when he kissed her.
Spying on her to gain his own ends made him no better than Andrew, she reminded herself although it was an effort. The thought gave her the courage to meet his gaze. “Will you give me some time? I need to examine your documents…” Her voice trailed off. The paperwork was almost certainly in order. A man like James Langford wouldn’t make his move until he knew it was the right one. She was the one who needed time to come to terms with a life forever changed.
Then she needed to prepare Genie to deal with another huge upheaval in a short life that had already seen more disruption than was good for her. That was going to be the most heart-tearing job of all.
James nodded reluctantly. “Take whatever time you need. The papers are self-explanatory, but you can ask me anything and I’ll do my best to answer.”
Only one question burned in her mind: how could he do this to her? It was the one question she couldn’t ask and he wouldn’t answer. Because he had already dismissed it as irrelevant. She was a painful but necessary step in his quest to retrieve his child.
“In the meantime,” he continued implacably, “I want to see Genevieve.”
Zoe felt the color drain from her face. “You aren’t going to simply tell her who you are?”
James locked gazes with her. “What do you think I am? No, don’t answer. If it helps you to cast me as the villain, go right ahead. But it won’t dissuade me from getting to know her again so she can accept me into her life. There will be time enough for the whole story when she’s ready to cope with it.”
He was being fairer than she had any right to expect. And he was right, she was trying to cast him as the villain, if only to have a target for her distress. The real villain was Ruth for involving them all in this terrible situation in which there could be no real winners.
Zoe nodded painfully. “You have the right to see her, of course.” More than she herself did if it came down to it. Inspiration came to her. “I’m taking her to our local street fair on Saturday. One of the highlights is a charity auction I’m involved in. Could you meet us there? It won’t seem as strange to her as if you came here.”
His expression underwent a sea change. Too late she realized how revealing her suggestion must look to him. She had as good as admitted that she wasn’t in the habit of introducing strange men to Genie. Her pride balked at such an admission. Would he think she had succumbed to his embrace because she was starved for affection? It shouldn’t matter what he thought. She only knew it did.
“I mean, I don’t want to give her the wrong idea about you and me…about us.” She stumbled on.
A glimmer of amusement lit his vivid blue gaze. “Heaven forbid she should get the wrong idea about…us,” he said with a mocking lilt. Then he drew himself back to business. “The street fair is a good idea. I would wish to see her sooner, but perhaps we all need the time to adjust.”
For a moment his face became shadowed and a depth of longing almost beyond bearing darkened his eyes. The ache around Zoe’s heart grew as she realized she was asking him to wait yet another couple of days for a reunion that had already been postponed beyond most people’s endurance.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Wait, she’ll be home in a little while. You don’t have to endure another day without seeing her.” But it was her own yearning speaking, so she closed her lips on the betraying words. No doubt he would have accepted her offer with alacrity, and part of her admitted the justice in making it. But she wasn’t ready yet. According him his due as Genie’s father was harder than anything she’d ever been asked to do.
It spelled the end of her life with her child. The end of her world.
The offer remained unspoken as she walked him to the door. She was distantly aware that they made some sort of arrangement to meet at the fair, but the details barely registered with her. Somehow she knew that James wouldn’t forget. He didn’t have her reasons.
The documents proving Genie’s parentage stared up at her in mute accusation when she went back inside. She looked at them for a long time before forcing herself to reach for the folder.
Chapter Three
To Zoe it felt like a century since James had dropped his bombshell about Genie, but in reality only two days had passed by the time the day of the street fair dawned. They were the longest two days of Zoe’s life. Over and over she asked herself why she had agreed to meet James at the fair?
She had little choice, she acknowledged as she went through the motions of getting ready to go. The alternative—inviting James to her home again—was even more unsettling.
He had a right to see his child. Even Zoe couldn’t deny the fact. But he didn’t have to see her under Zoe’s roof. A public place was better, she told herself. Neutral ground. He would see what a wonderful mother she was and decide to leave Genie where she was.
And pigs might fly.
She started as a small figure appeared at her bedroom door. “I’m ready, Mummy. Can we go now?” The child jiggled up and down with impatience.
Zoe swallowed the maternal pride that threatened to swamp her. “As soon as I’m ready, sweetheart. I won’t be long.”
Genie’s features creased with suspicion. “You’re wearing your best dress, and your hair’s all funny and crinkly. You won’t be able to go on the Ferris wheel with me.”
Zoe dropped to her knees beside the little girl. “Of course I will. I felt like dressing up and curling my hair because…well, just because.” Impressing James Langford had absolutely nothing to do with it, she told herself.
