Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense) (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Sipping his wine, Alistair leaned back in his chair and nodded to Lizzie. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us a bit about your children. How old were they when you lost them?”

“Enough.” Zach ran his forefinger deliberately along the length of his dinner knife and looked at Lizzie. “You don’t need to share anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

For a moment she allowed herself the fantasy that he would pick up the knife and hurl it right through his
father’s
immoral, contemptible heart.

She bit the inside of her lip, frowning as she glanced from Zach to Alistair. The challenge in the latter’s eyes was clear—tell
Thomas
anything you want, he won’t remember.

Well, they’d see about that. He might not remember now, but one day, one day it would all come together for him. It had to.

“No, I don’t mind at all.” She looked directly at Zach. “When I
lost
my children, Sam, my little girl, was a little over three years old and Daniel was just an infant.” She waited, silently daring Alistair to comment.

“Sam? Is that short for Samantha?”

The compassion in Zach’s eyes brought tears to her own. She blinked them away. This was not a time to show weakness. “Actually her name is Sarah Ann Marko Weston. She has two middle names.”

Lizzie paused for a moment. How he had teased her about giving their baby girl four names, insisting the other kids only had to learn to spell three names. “Her daddy made the mistake of showing her that her initials spelled Sam, and she’s been Sam ever since.”

Her lips curved at the memory of his surprise that she would prefer Sam to Sarah and his confession that he’d learned a lesson about the importance of a well-timed retreat when the ladies of the household set their minds to something.

Zach’s softly spoken question drew her back to the present. “Was Daniel older than Ace?”

“No.” She hesitated, suddenly uncertain if she could continue this game. “They are the same age. Daniel was born prematurely, but he was a fighter from the moment he was born.”

She watched him closely, praying that some small detail might hold meaning for him.

“Maggie.” He raised his hand as though he might reach for her, instead running his hand along his jaw. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. They…were both very brave children…happy, smart…”

Desiree rang the bell that sat near her right hand. When a server appeared, she instructed him to bring the next course and turned to Maggie. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your sad story. Your children’s short little lives were certainly filled with tragedy.”

“Desiree…” The warning note was back in Zach’s voice.

“Yes, of course.” She patted his arm as she smiled brightly at Lizzie. “Tell us about the children’s father, Mack.”

Mindy and Mack? Was this bimbo really the best imposter Alistair could find?
Well, that was just fine. She didn’t mind repeating the name. “Zach. His name is Zach. Zach Weston.” She hesitated, not wanting to push too far and put Sam at risk, but Alistair nodded for her to continue.

“Weston, did you say?” A look of innocent confusion crossed Desiree’s face. “But your name is Smith…” She looked scandalized. “Was he already married to someone else?”

Perhaps she’d underestimated Desiree. “No, he wasn’t married to someone else. He…he…” She sputtered to a stop, so mad that she couldn’t think of a lie to explain the names.

Alistair cleared his throat. “Now, Desiree. Maggie is a modern sort of woman. She kept her own name.” He managed to imbue a large portion of aristocratic censure in that simple statement. He looked at her, his enjoyment obvious. “Well, Maggie, by all means, tell us about Zach.”

Although she didn’t understand this unexpected freedom, she welcomed the opportunity. “He was a wonderful father and husband.” Forcing herself not to stumble when speaking of him in the past tense, she continued. “Loyal, patient, compassionate, brave…sexy as hell.” A slight smile played on her lips as she became lost in memories that now belonged only to her.

Desiree’s strangely subdued voice drew her back to reality. “You must have loved him very much.”

“I do love him very much.” It was more than a statement of fact. It was a vow. Silence settled in the room.

Alistair snorted, ending the emotionally charged moment. “Please, I insist you cease to think of that imbecile as some paragon of manhood.” His voice rose in annoyance as he slammed his fist down on the table.

“Unfortunately for you, Alistair, you don’t control my thoughts or feelings.” Her heart pounded. She couldn’t control the hatred that fueled the disrespectful words hurtling from her mouth.

As fury flared in Alistair’s eyes, she knew she’d gone too far. Looking to Zach for reassurance, she saw that his mask of indifference was securely in place. Except for his eyes. They were angry. And that anger seemed directed at her.

It was all too much.

“If you’ll excuse me, I—I need to check on Ace.” She rose from her chair, unable to control the slight trembling of her words.

“Maggie.” A note of warning rang in Alistair’s voice. “You’ve not been dismissed.”

Zach interjected. “Go. It’s almost time for his bedtime feeding.”

Alistair burst to his feet, upsetting his wineglass in the process. “
You
are not in charge of this household, Thomas!” The vein in his temple pounded as his voice shook with anger. “This is
my
home and I make the rules. You’d best remember that.” He slammed his hand against the table, pausing before he spoke again. “And you…” He bit out the words and pointed at Lizzie, his voice now chillingly controlled.

“Alistair.” Desiree wrinkled her nose. “Please, not at the dinner table.” Smiling at the two men, she ignored Lizzie completely. “Would either of you care for dessert?”

Dismissed, Lizzie rushed from the room.

…

Jaw clenched, Thomas declined dessert and excused himself. He strode from the dining room, breaking into a silent run as the door closed behind him. He caught Maggie at the second turn in the hall, grabbed her arm and spun her around.

His touch gentled when he saw the tears streaming down her face. With a glance to either side to ensure they were alone, he pressed her lightly up against the wall and placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her with his body before she could flee.

“What the hell is going on?” He leaned forward until he almost touched her, then fought the unexpected urge to rest his forehead against hers. He took a deep breath, fearing that he’d frighten her as frustration and concern rolled off him in waves. “Talk to me.”

“I—I can’t.” Her eyes frantically swept the hall.

“Look at me,” he whispered harshly. “Tell me.” She finally looked into his eyes, searching, and he felt again that she somehow found him lacking. She moaned low in her throat and in spite of the tense situation, he was aroused.
What the hell kind of animal was he?

She pushed hard against his chest. “I have to get back to Daniel.”

“Daniel?” Desire forgotten, he removed his hands from the wall. “
Daniel?
Don’t you mean Ace?” He ran his hand roughly through his hair, looking away as he attempted to control his emotions. “Have you…” He swallowed and looked back at her. “Have you been pretending my son is your own?”

When she failed to answer, he grabbed her arms in a desperate attempt to understand. “Answer me.”

“Thomas! Take your hands off of her.” Alistair’s voice rang out.

Maggie’s head flew up, fear in her eyes.

“Maggie and I are having a private conversation. This doesn’t involve you.” He bit out each word. Damn Alistair for interrupting.

Taking a step back from them both, Maggie shook her head. “I need to feed Ace.”

“I thought the nurse instructed you to begin introducing the new formula at some feedings. His father can feed him, my dear. After all, he prefers to be so
hands-on
in the care of the boy.” Alistair stared at his son. “You did give her the evening off to come to dinner, did you not?”

Apparently requiring no response, he returned his attention to her. “Maggie, sweetheart, I’m so sorry to have upset you. It’s just that your inexplicable obsession with that man wears on me. Now as dinner ended on that unfortunate note, it appears I have time for our little rendezvous after all.” His soothing voice belied by the ice in his gaze, Alistair ran the backs of his fingers down her face, claiming her. “My dear, would you care to join me for a bit?”

She nodded. Placing his hand at the small of her back, Alistair turned her in the direction of his suite. “Good evening, Thomas.” He favored his son with a challenging smile as they started down the hall.

Thomas watched him escort Maggie down the corridor, hand riding too low on the curve of her waist. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until they rounded the corner and disappeared. He didn’t want to let her go, yet she was a grown woman…and she had gone willingly.

Did she really?
He would have sworn he saw reluctance and anger vibrate in each step she took.

Oh man, he was confused! He couldn’t forget the wild look in her eyes as she called his son Daniel.
Daniel.
All of this time while she was caring for his son, was she delusional? Living in a confused world of her own making?

He’d checked her medical history and insisted on a blood test, but really he knew nothing about her. No, he’d been so taken in by her loving care of Ace, he’d failed to ask the hard questions, had taken his father’s word for it that she came highly recommended.

Now, despite his doubts about her state of mind, it was time he admitted he truth. Maggie, with her unbecoming hair and frustrating secrecy, appealed to him, captivated him in ways Desiree did not.

He slammed his palm against the wall. How the hell was he supposed to make sense of this mess when his feelings for Maggie warred with his number one priority, the safety of his son? If there was a chance she was a danger, he had to put Ace first, and yet…he was finding it impossible to ignore the attraction.

What was he supposed to do? Appearances clearly suggested that he had an unstable woman caring for his son. But his instincts told him to grab her and Ace and run.

Chapter Sixteen

By the time Alistair ushered her into his suite, Lizzie’s anger threatened to explode.

She jerked away the moment the doors closed. “Keep your hands off me.”

Raising his hand to stroke his goatee, he glared. “I grow weary of your belligerent attitude. Tonight I tried to help you see that Thomas has no memory of you and your life together, and yet you persist in imagining some grand reunion for the two of you.” He walked to his desk and poured himself a glass of scotch. “I’m not only concerned about you, my dear. It’s dear Sam I worry about.” He took a drink and set the glass back on the desk with a thud. “Sam. Such a deplorable nickname for a beautiful young girl.” He returned and grasped her arms. “The man never even told you the truth about his past.”

She remained silent, hands clenched.

“Thomas has never been as committed to you as you are to him.” He rubbed his hands up along her shoulders. “Dear Lizzie, I understand you don’t want to believe that
Zach
would lie to you so blatantly. After all, he knew how important the truth was to you—especially after Grant deceived you, abandoning you and dear Sam.”

Her heart pounded as he shook his head sadly. She fought the urge to smack the false compassion off his face. Yet the truth stared at her every time she looked at him. He had her husband’s jaw and coloring, and more significantly, his beautiful eyes. Eyes that seemed out of place in the face of a monster.

She reminded herself that he was a master at manipulating the truth. Yes, Grant had left them, but he’d come back months later determined to make things right. And despite her choosing Zach without hesitation, Grant had stayed. Now Sam had two dads who loved her. Alistair’s view of the world was wrong.

He raised his brow in a movement that reminded her so much of Zach, she broke. “You don’t know anything.” Her voice rose as she spun away from him. “You stupid, delusional old man. You don’t know anything.” She slapped her hands over her mouth.

When Alistair remained silent, she slowly turned around. He raised his glass in a silent toast and tossed back the contents. She bit her lip as he advanced with measured steps.

“You…” His soft voice sent chills down her spine. She forced herself not to retreat.

“You—” A smile spread across his face and he laughed. “You are truly delightful. I don’t know anything? I?” He pulled a strand of her hair loose and wrapped it around his finger, tugging her face toward his. “Nothing except where your precious daughter is. Nothing except the truth about Thomas’s past.” His voice rose. “Nothing except what will happen to Sam if you defy me.”

He released the hair and patted her cheek. “My dear, I am the only one who knows everything.” He spread his arms wide. “Now tonight, Thomas was drawn to you. Quite possibly it was that very appealing dress you’re wearing.”

She suppressed a shudder and lifted her chin, refusing to be goaded again.

“Thomas needs to turn his attention to Desiree, so we’re going to help him by making sure he thinks you and I are…intimate.”

As his smile broadened, she looked away, her eyes drawn to the fireplace poker. Afraid he would read her intent, she turned back, but it was too late.

He stroked his goatee with thumb and forefinger, his gaze thoughtful as he considered the poker. He chuckled. “Lizzie, Lizzie, how I love that spark of rebellion you try so hard to hide. Indeed, if circumstances were different, I would have been quite proud to call you my daughter.”

He ran his hand along her bare arm. “Even prouder perhaps to claim you for myself.” He stepped closer, reaching out to capture her jaw. “Let’s see how dear Sam is today.”

They watched video. Once again, she played happily at the park, bundled securely in a warm coat, hat, and gloves, her joyful laughter ringing out as she went round and round on a playground toy. Today she wore her boots as well, kicking the snow in delight as she walked. As always, Jameson appeared at the end, proof of the date in his hand, his cold grin mocking her.

“It would be a shame if Sam were to disappear forever.”

She turned frightened eyes to him. “Please, please let her go back to Grant. I’ll be good, I promise.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “Please don’t give my little girl away to another family.”

His laugh chilled her soul. “You are so delightful this evening. Who said anything about giving her to another family? There are other, much more unpleasant options for a girl like Sam. I expect you to remember that. If Sam disappears, she won’t be living a nice family life somewhere.” He slammed his hand down on his desk. She jumped at the harsh sound. “Do you understand?”

When she choked on a sob and nodded, he reached for her and pulled her close.

…

Thomas tucked Ace into bed. Running his fingertips along the crib rail, he tried to draw solace from the sight of his young son. The boy dreamed the sweet dreams of innocence.

But it was no use. His pulse raced with adrenaline. He was definitely in fight-or-flight mode, and his preference was fight.

He left the nursery in search of Maggie. Long strides ate up the distance between the nursery and the far wing.

Stopping outside his father’s door, he listened. The sounds of a woman weeping seeped through the thick wood. With a hard knock, he pushed the door open. He stopped, stunned.

Maggie stood with her back to him, held closely in the circle of his father’s arms, crying. Her hands were tucked between their bodies, and Thomas thought he saw them clench his father’s shirt. Her forehead lay against Alistair’s chest, her lips resting in the vicinity of the old man’s heart. Alistair stroked her back reassuringly, his face buried in her hair as he whispered in her ear.

He felt like a fool.

Alistair raised his head, pressing a kiss against her temple. “Son, after one knocks, the accepted practice is to wait and be bid entry.”

He continued to rub her back with long, slow strokes. Thomas fought the urge to slap the old man’s hand away and snatch her out of his arms. “As you can see, this is not a good time.”

Thomas clenched and unclenched his fist. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, except that you are intruding on a private moment.”

He waited. Maybe he was a fool, but his father’s word wasn’t good enough. “Maggie?”

She stirred, one hand dropping down to rest on the old man’s waist, and replied without looking at him, “Everything’s fine, Thomas. Please, just leave us alone.”

He hesitated for a moment and then sighed. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

He reached for the door, tapping his fingers restlessly on the knob, then turned back to them with a frown. “I almost forgot the reason I’m here. Ace is fussy and I don’t want to leave him alone, but I have questions about those financial projections you need for tomorrow.” He kept his voice deferential. “I am sorry for interrupting, Father.”

“I fail to understand why you can’t just let the boy cry himself to sleep. If you continue to coddle him, you’ll make him weak.” When he continued to wait, Alistair dropped his arms and pushed Maggie away with a deep sigh. “Very well, son, wrong-minded though I think you are, I know you’ll be unable to concentrate if you’re worried about young Alistair.”

Placing his hand under her chin, he lifted her face. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, dear.” He stared at her until she rose on her toes and kissed him, just enough off-center to miss his lips, causing Thomas’s gut to churn. Turning toward the door, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and hurried from the room, eyes downcast.

As Thomas turned to leave, Alistair stopped him. “Thomas? I thought you needed my help.”

“I do. I just need to get the file.”

Gesturing toward the chair, Alistair smiled and moved to the other side of his desk. “Have a seat. I have a duplicate right here.”

…

Lizzie closed the nursery door and leaned back, seeking emotional balance. She frowned. Daniel slept soundly. She approached the crib to look for the telltale signs of tears on his face. His cheeks and eyelashes were dry, his breathing even, no hiccups to indicate recent distress. She rubbed small circles on his back, attempting to absorb his peacefulness.

Desperately needing more contact, she picked him up and sat in the rocking chair, careful not to wake him. She held him close to her heart and took a shuddering breath. She inhaled his clean scent as she remembered how Alistair had wrapped her in a punishing embrace, whispering harshly in her ear, “Sam will be safe as long as you do exactly as you are told. If you betray me or if anything happens to me—say an unfortunate incident with the fireplace poker—Jameson’s orders stand whether I am alive or dead.”

Squeezing her more tightly, he’d hissed, “Do you understand?”

When she’d nodded, he’d loosened his hold and stroked her back, quietly but insistently continuing his threats against her daughter until
a loud knock sounded on the door. When it burst open, Alistair had tightened his grip and rasped in her ear, “Showtime.”

Her knees had nearly buckled when she realized it was Zach. She’d been so afraid he would leave when she’d insisted that everything was fine. But, thank God, he had stayed.

Thank God that underneath the exterior of Alistair Forrester Jr. lived her husband, the man who noticed everything.

…

Thomas toyed with his pen as his father droned on. This meeting was taking forever as he pretended to seek his father’s advice on the financial projections he’d finished earlier in the day. By now Maggie would have realized that Ace was perfectly fine, sound asleep in his crib.

His father. Thomas found it increasingly difficult to believe he was the offspring of this contemptible man, no matter how closely they resembled each other.

“Thomas?” Alistair snapped a pen against his forearm, and tossed up his hands in frustration, upsetting a photograph that perched on the corner of the desk. “Are you listening?”

No, he’d been thinking about Maggie. Thomas reached to set the frame upright, intending to clarify for the old man that he was not a child to be thunked when Alistair disapproved of his behavior. Instead, he froze when he saw the contents of the frame.

A boys’ hockey team stared back at him. The coaches stood behind the team, Alistair in the middle. But it was the goalie who drew Thomas’s attention. So this was him as a young teen. By the somber look on his face, he imagined he’d just listened to a lecture from the old man.

Without speaking, he set the photograph back on the edge of the desk, disturbed by this fresh evidence of his relationship to Alistair. He felt Alistair’s stare, but refused to ask about the photo. He wouldn’t trust the answers anyway.

Maggie was a different matter altogether. The woman owed him some answers. He’d almost returned to the nursery when he found her wrapped in his father’s arms, but thankfully some inner voice had stopped him. Because when he’d insisted on hearing from her that she was okay, one of her hands had crept down his father’s chest to rest where he could see it on the old man’s waist.

She’d crossed her fingers as she told him everything was fine.

…

Alistair sat in the dark, thoughtfully stroking his goatee, the room silent except for the night sounds that drifted through the open window. Thomas had left over an hour ago, and still he contemplated the shadows. Things were not working according to plan.

Lizzie was proving to be an irritation. He’d like to introduce her to the innocent-looking happy pills that Thomas took daily. Perhaps she’d be a bit more content—a bit more agreeable. Unfortunately, the effects on nursing infants were unknown. He raised his brow. The long-term effects on adults were a bit vague as well. He sighed. It was the price one paid for progress. He made a note to increase his son’s dosage.

Thomas showed increasing signs of rebellion. And his attraction to
Maggie
annoyed him to no end. True, it was impossible to completely hide the woman’s beauty behind ugly clothes and hair, but Thomas should never have looked twice at her once the delectable Desiree arrived. Really, the woman’s incredible figure put Lizzie’s slight form to shame.

Lizzie shouldn’t even be here! It had taken a few days, but Alistair had finally tracked down his dear friend Robert Bridges. The traitor. He finally had proof that Robert had sent Lizzie the telegram. It was only a matter of time before he discovered the good doctor’s location, and then Robert would regret ever crossing his old partner.

Alistair rose and began to pace. Thomas had never shown him the respect a father deserved. Well, Alistair would break him and mold him into the Forrester he was meant to be. After all, he still had a few tricks up his sleeve, and if those failed…

Walking over to his safe, he entered the combination and removed a small vial. He lovingly caressed its cool exterior. A knowing smile replaced the menacing frown that had furrowed his brow. Holding the vial up to the moonbeams, he enjoyed the way the liquid refracted the light. His slight smile grew into a full grin as he considered his options. He nodded, pleased with his own cleverness. Putting the vial back in the safe, he chuckled, and it seemed the night grew ominously silent at the sound.

A Forrester always has a backup plan.