Who's The Daddy?

The uproar her assertion of independence brought from her father, the other two men, even her mother and sister, was enough to make Caroline’s headache feel like a volcanic eruption.

Even in pain, however, she noticed that the center of the controversy, Mr. Blue Jeans, shot her a look of approval. Well, he needn’t think he was home free. She wasn’t about to take a stranger’s word about such an important matter.

She was struck by the irony of calling the man a stranger when he might be the father of her child.

“I asked you not to question or upset her,” Dr. Johansen interrupted. “You’ll all have to leave now.”

Though they didn’t go quietly, the doctor herded the visitors from the room and left Caroline in peace.

As much peace as one could have, pregnant without knowing who the father might be.

Could she really have been sleeping with three men? Was she the kind of woman who hopped from bed to bed? Revulsion filled her and she wanted to believe that was not possible. But then why were three men claiming to be the daddy?

She recalled her father’s remark, that Max Daniels was only after her money. Once the pregnancy had been revealed, she hadn’t thought about her life before the accident. She was wealthy? Not that she objected. Not having to worry about paying hospital bills would be an advantage.

But she needed answers! She wanted to reclaim her life, to understand what was happening to her. And most of all, she wanted to know which man had made love to her two months ago. And heaven help her if it was more than one.

“ARE YOU ALL PACKED?” the nurse asked cheerfully, coming into her room the next morning.

Caroline murmured yes, not bothering to point out she had almost nothing to pack. She didn’t move her head, however. Even after twenty-four hours, it felt fragile. “Is—is my father here?”

She still wasn’t comfortable with James Adkins, or the other members of her family. Or even with herself, for that matter. She’d looked in a mirror and seen a stranger. A pregnant stranger.

That thought had been brought home to her when she’d gotten up this morning. Morning sickness, heightened by her concussion, the nurse had said, had attacked her. What little breakfast she’d eaten had come right back up.

Women go through this more than once? Voluntarily? The nurse had reassured her that her sickness was perfectly normal in the circumstances.

“He called earlier to let us know he was picking you up at ten. It’s almost that now. I’ll bring a cart for the flowers.”

Her father had flooded her room with floral arrangements. Even more interesting had been the offerings from two of the men claiming to have fathered her baby. Long-stemmed red roses. Two dozen apiece.

Nothing from Max Daniels.

“Why don’t you pass the flowers out among the sick?” Caroline said. “I think that might be easier than carting them all home.” Wherever that was.

“That’s very generous of you. I have several patients who never receive flowers.” The nurse smiled.

“Then I hope they enjoy these.”

Footsteps near the door had her turning around carefully. But it was neither the doctor nor her father. Her heartbeat picked up speed as she stared at Max Daniels.

How could she have forgotten making love to this man? He was certainly handsome, but there was something more—a connection she couldn’t explain—that took her breath away. She noted he was again in jeans, this time coupled with a starched plaid shirt, and he held a bouquet of daisies in his hand.

“Good morning,” he said.

She responded and waited, watching him. His eyes, as blue as the sky, looked wary, as if he weren’t sure of his welcome. The nurse slipped from the room, murmuring something about fetching a cart. Left alone with him, Caroline’s mouth went dry as she stared at the gorgeous man in front of her. The urge to touch him almost consumed her. When Max continued to say nothing, she asked in desperation, “Are those for me?”

He held the flowers out to her. “Yeah.” His gaze took in the roses and carnations that filled the room. “You told me you liked daisies.”

If she hadn’t before, she did now. If Max Daniels delivered them. “I do, thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Has your memory returned?” He took a step closer, his gaze intent.

She started to shake her head and then stopped. The headache hovering on the edge of consciousness edged closer with any radical movement. “No, it hasn’t.”

He thrust the flowers into her hands and stepped back. “Then how can I get a phone number where I can reach you? I’d like to stay in touch.”

“You don’t have it?” Some relationship they must’ve had. If he was telling the truth.

“No. If I’d had it, I would’ve found you a lot sooner,” he said gruffly, a fierceness entering his gaze that had her stepping back.

Either the movement, or the puzzle that was her life at the moment, pushed the headache out of control. She reached for her forehead with her free hand, clasping the daisies to her breast with the other.

“Are you all right?”

“I need to sit down,” she said faintly, and he guided her to the only chair. As she was sinking into it, her head lolling back against the top of it, the door to her room was pushed open.

“What are you doing to my daughter?” a booming voice demanded.

Caroline dropped the flowers into her lap and pressed both hands to her throbbing temples. “Please—”

Without answering her father’s question, Max walked to the bed and pressed the nurse’s button.

“I’m sorry, Caro, I didn’t mean to make your head hurt,” James Adkins hurriedly apologized, and then glared at Max, as if it were Max’s fault he had yelled.

“Yes?” the nurse asked as she came back into the room.

“Ms. Adkins’s headache has come back,” Max said softly. “Is there anything you can give her for it?”

“It never went away,” Caroline contradicted him.

“Because of the baby, we can’t give her a painkiller. She just needs to have peace and quiet.” The nurse glared accusingly at the two men.

“I’m here to take her home,” her father said stiffly. “I don’t know why he’s here.”

“Well, she needs to be back in bed as soon as possible. The doctor’s on the way up to release her.” She backed out of the room, still frowning at Caroline’s visitors.

“He wants my phone number,” Caroline told her father. “Would you give it to him, please? I don’t remember it. And get his.” Stupid statement. No one would expect her to remember a phone number when she couldn’t even remember her shoe size.

But she didn’t want to lose Max Daniels. Her reaction to him told her he had to be the one—the father of her baby. The love of her life? Frustration filled her—and not a little panic. What if she never remembered? What if—

Her father disrupted her fears by glaring at Max again and moving closer to her chair to say in a stage whisper obviously intended for Max’s ears, “Caroline, I’m not sure that’s wise. We only have his say-so that you two were—you know.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. Great. Next her father would want to explain the birds and the bees. “Intimate. That’s the word. Please give him my phone number.”

Max stepped forward, ignoring her father, and extended a business card to her. “Both my work and home numbers are on this card. Call me if there’s anything I can do for you—or anything.”

“You’ve already done too much, according to you!” her father growled.

Max’s lips—those enticing lips—flattened tightly against each other, and Caroline had the strangest urge to tease them into a smile. As attracted as she was to Max Daniels, if he was the father of her child, she felt sure she had put up no resistance whatsoever to any intimacy between them. In fact, she may have seduced him.

But what about the other two men who claimed to be the daddy? She wished she could rule them out, but she reluctantly admitted she couldn’t. She’d read about women who carried on with more than one man, but—she had?

Distracted by a memory, even an insignificant one, she lost track of the men’s conversation. It was such a relief to remember something, even though it was useless for solving her problems.

“Look, Mr. Adkins,” Max said, moving closer to the older man, “what happened is between Caroline and me. What’s her phone number?”

“It’s unlisted.”

“I figured that. I called all the Adkinses as I could find in the telephone book.”

That remark snapped her from her thoughts. “You did?”

“You disappeared without saying goodbye. I wanted to know why.” His expression said he blamed her for her unexplained departure.

She’d like to know why she’d gone away, too. Why would she leave someone she was obviously attracted to? Had she found out some deep, dark secret? Or was his entire story a lie?

“She probably realized she was in love with Prescott or Adrian. She came back to them, didn’t she?” James offered.

Her father’s interpretation of past events might not be quite reliable, Caroline decided. He seemed intent on persuading her that one of the other men was the mysterious father.

“By the way, where are the Bobbsey twins?” she asked.

Max choked and tried to hide a chuckle behind one of his big hands. Her gaze remained fixed on his crinkling blue eyes, hoping for a glimpse of his smile.

“Caroline! You shouldn’t call them such a thing. They’re down in the limo, waiting. They wanted to come up here, but I assured them we’d be right down.” James glared at Max again.

“They really came?” She’d only been teasing, hoping to lighten the moment.

“Of course. They’re very concerned about you.” He waved to the roses on each side of her bed. “After all, they sent you roses, a lot more expensive than those daisies.”

In spite of her headache, Caroline smelled a rat and asked, “How do you know the roses came from them?”

“Well, I thought— I suggested— It was just a guess.” He blundered to a stop.

As if it were a natural occurrence, her gaze flew to Max’s and they shared a smile, a glorious smile that she’d been waiting to see. She took a deep breath of appreciation. The guy was as sexy as could be. She wondered what he’d look like without his shirt.

“Caroline!” Her father was obviously irritated at her distraction.

“Please, my head.”

Both the doctor and the nurse returned to her room at that moment, the nurse pushing a flower cart.

“All ready to go, Caroline?” Dr. Johansen asked cheerfully.

“Yes, I guess so. But my headache is getting worse again.”

“Hmm. Probably the excitement of getting out of here. I don’t know why people react to hospitals that way,” he teased as he picked up her wrist to take her pulse.

The door opened again to admit the two men her father called Adrian and Prescott. “James? We thought we’d better come up in case you needed help,” Prescott said, his gaze sweeping the room. When it landed on Max, he stepped closer to James.

Interesting, Caroline decided. He goes to my father’s side, not mine. Adrian, the second one, kind of hovered between her father and her, as if undecided about where his loyalties lay. As they moved, Caroline looked closely at them. They were both handsome, in a conventional manner. Adrian was blond, but a little too smooth for her tastes. Prescott was darker and slightly shorter, but neither stirred her as Max did. “What’s he doing here?” Prescott demanded, disdainfully waving his hand toward Max.

“He never left,” Caroline rapidly answered, not happy with Prescott’s attitude. What business was it of his if Max wanted to visit her? “We spent the entire night together.”

Everyone except Max and the doctor gasped, staring at her. Then a babble of protests made her regret her short-tempered response. “Just kidding, just kidding,” she said, raising her hand to halt their noise.

“Caroline’s headache is back. Too much noise is bad for it,” Max said calmly.

Prescott glared at Max, but Adrian moved closer to Caroline. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. Do you know my phone number?” she asked.

“Why, certainly. Your private line or your father’s?”

“Mine.”

He said her telephone number, and Caroline smiled as Max took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote it down on one of his business cards. His sexy grin was her thank-you.

“I’m not sure that was wise, Caroline,” Prescott said, echoing her father’s earlier warning.

“I may not remember too much about my past, but I know I don’t like people bossing me around, whoever I am. If you know me well, Prescott, you must already be aware of that trait.”

During their conversation, the nurse had pushed the flower cart out the door and returned with a wheelchair. “Is she ready, Doctor?”

“I believe she is. She may not be up to full fighting weight just yet, but I think she can handle this crew,” Dr. Johansen said with a smile at Caroline. “I suspect you’ve already seen a doctor about your pregnancy, but if not, set up an appointment as soon as possible. And let me know if the headache doesn’t gradually diminish.”

“Gradually?” she protested.

“I’m afraid so, Caroline. Don’t get too agitated for a while. Rest and sleep. That’s the cure.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

He excused himself and the nurse pushed the wheelchair to her side and then took her arm. “Okay, lean on me. On the count of three, we’ll move to the chair.”

Caroline would have preferred Max’s help, but if she asked for it, Prescott would probably knock both of them over trying to reach her first. She stood and stepped over to the wheelchair. A sudden hand on her other arm needed no identification. The responsive surge of attraction told her it was Max. She smiled up at him once she was settled. “Thanks.”

“I would’ve helped. You should’ve asked me,” Prescott complained.

She almost groaned aloud. If Prescott was the father of her baby, she could expect a whiner and probably the biggest brownnoser in existence. What a depressing thought.

“Well, let’s be on our way,” her father said abruptly, swinging around to the door. His two satellites fell into step behind him.

Caroline wasn’t quite ready. She wanted an excuse to touch Max one more time. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Thank you for the daisies.”

He took her hand in his. “My pleasure.” Then he leaned down and briefly caressed her lips with his. Her pulse throbbed. Good thing she was going to get some rest before she saw him again. Otherwise, she just might explode with all the excitement.

As if realizing something had occurred behind their backs, the other three men turned and stared at the two of them.

“Are you coming, Caroline?” James demanded.

“Yes, I’m right behind you, Dad,” she answered, a smile on her face for Max Daniels. He remained in the room as the nurse pushed her out, her daisies clutched to her chest.

DAMN. Max stood alone in the hospital room and drew a deep breath. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But he hadn’t been able to resist. Even as pale as she was this morning, with a bruise on her forehead, Caroline was beautiful.

He’d only had two short weeks with her, but he’d missed her every day since she’d gone. Even though he called himself all kinds of a fool for still wanting her.

The two weeks they’d spent together seemed like a dream now, with a nightmare ending when she disappeared. He’d already been making plans for their future together. Plans that were aborted when she left.

She’d told him she was from Kansas City and had just moved to Denver. At first, she’d said she was looking for a job. He’d offered to introduce her to the interior design firms he used, had even told her who to contact. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized she’d never looked for a job.

Hell, he hadn’t given her time. He’d spent every moment he could with her. He couldn’t leave her alone. And he’d been making plans to keep her with him forever.

And now that he’d discovered she was an heiress, he knew they had no future together. Even if the baby was his. Her father wasn’t going to let her marry him. Not when there were two superstar executives waiting with open arms.

Max wasn’t even sure why he still wanted her. After all, everything she’d told him was a lie. Now he understood the old saying, ignorance is bliss. Those two weeks had certainly been blissful.

But if their two weeks had resulted in a baby, his baby, then he refused to be pushed out of the picture. He would not abandon his own child.

He shook himself from his misery. Feeling sorry for himself had never been his style. Instead, he formulated a plan and set about changing his circumstances.

Maybe that was what had frustrated him so about Caroline. He’d followed every lead he’d had, but he’d discovered nothing about her.

He reached the outer door of the hospital just in time to see a white limo pull away from the hospital. At least this time he had her telephone number. Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.

“WAIT!” PRESCOTT CALLED to the driver as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Please don’t shout.”

“But we’ve forgotten your flowers. That damned nurse probably thought she could get away with stealing them. Turn around and go back.”

“No!” Caroline contradicted. “Take us home, Lewis.”

The chauffeur, much to Caroline’s satisfaction, obeyed her.

“Caroline!” her father exclaimed. “How did you know?”

“What?” Her head hurt so much. She wasn’t sure she could remain upright until they reached the house.

“His name. You knew his name.”

“You must have said it,” she replied, frowning, trying to think.

“No, I didn’t. Your memory is returning!” he exclaimed happily. “That’s wonderful. I’ll give that doctor a bonus. Now,” he said, pausing to lean toward her, “which of these gentlemen is the father of your baby?”

Immediately the headache increased.

“I haven’t gotten my memory back. I don’t know how I knew his name.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m in so much pain.”

“And I don’t understand about the flowers. Didn’t you like them?” Prescott grumbled.

“They were lovely. But there were so many of them I asked the nurse to distribute them to others who weren’t going home. It seemed like the generous thing to do.”

“It was, and just like you, Caroline,” Adrian said as he smiled at her.

“Was it?” she asked coolly, leery of his friendliness. She decided his gray eyes were cold, even if his lips were smiling. And who knew if he was telling the truth? All she knew about herself so far was that she liked her own way, hated headaches, was pregnant, and apparently didn’t mind sleeping with more than one man.

That couldn’t be true. She never liked to share. In high school, her boyfriend had thought he could date her and her best friend at the same time. She’d shown him.

Another memory. She clutched it to her like a precious jewel. But when she tried to extend that grasp on the past, searching for other memories, she drew a blank. Frustration filled her.

“If you were so generous with the roses, why are you still holding those?” Prescott complained, gesturing to the daisies.

“Because I like them.”

He turned to glare at her father. “You said roses!” he accused. He sounded like a little boy, but his thinning hair showed him to be considerably beyond his youth.

If she’d needed confirmation that the roses had been sent at her father’s behest, his remark was it. She shot her father a knowing look.

“I was just trying to speed things up. I don’t want my grandchild born a bastard, so I suggest you select one of these fine gentlemen to marry you. They’re both willing.”

“And are you going to speak the words for them as they mime a proposal?” she asked, growing tired of her father’s arguments.

“That’s not necessary, Caroline, darling,” Prescott said, rushing in, as she should’ve known he would. She might not remember him, but she knew more about him than she wanted to already.

“I’m perfectly willing to marry you today if you’ll agree,” he continued, reaching for her hand.

She pulled her hands back. “No, thank you. I have a headache.”

Not an original excuse…for a lot of things, but it was the best she could come up with right now.

“I’d prefer to make my proposal in private,” Adrian informed her, sending a superior smile toward Prescott.

She’d prefer that he not make it at all. “Thank you, but I’m confused right now. I don’t think I’m ready to make any decisions.”

“Of course, but you won’t forget?” There was an edge to his voice that irritated her.

“I hope not.” It seemed to Caroline that a promise not to forget from an amnesiac victim wouldn’t be worth much. She wouldn’t believe her.

“Of course she won’t forget,” her father answered heartily. “And if she does, the three of us will be there to remind her. After all, she has to marry someone.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Now, Caroline, no argument. I’m an old-fashioned man, and I expect my grandchild to be born on the right side of the blanket.”

She ignored him.

“And if you don’t cooperate, you just might find yourself written out of my will.”

She might not have her memory, but the ease with which her father uttered those words made her suspect it was a threat he’d used before.

“Then call your lawyer, because I will decide what I do about my baby and my future. Not you.”

The look of panic on Prescott’s face that she might be written out of the will told Caroline her threat may have eliminated at least one potential daddy candidate. Whether her memory returned or not.

CHAPTER THREE

CAROLINE STARED IN AWE at the magnificent residence the limo stopped in front of, after having driven through a large gate flanked by brick walls. It must take an army of workers to maintain the lush grounds, she decided, her gaze traveling over the perfect flower beds, the exactly trimmed hedges.

She turned to compliment her father on the beauty of their home only to discover everyone staring at her. She felt like a bug under a microscope.

“No, I don’t remember,” she assured them dryly. “I’ll let you know when my memory returns.”

All three looked away.

“Why did Prescott and Adrian come with you to pick me up instead of my mother?” Caroline suddenly asked, struck by the presence of these men rather than family members.

“Friday is Save the Whales day,” her father muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Adrian leaned forward to explain. “Your mother is quite involved in the local charities. On Fridays, she goes to the meeting for saving the whales.”

Caroline remembered a curious remark from the day before. “And one of her charities is for unwed mothers?”

“Yes,” her father snapped.

Caroline asked no more questions. Not yet.

Her father escorted her into the house and introduced her to the housekeeper, Mrs. Lamb, and then left for the office, accompanied by Prescott and Adrian.

“Welcome home, Caroline. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m still a little shaky. If you’ll show me to my room, I’ll lie down for a while.”

“Why, honey, there’s no need to be formal!” the woman said with a laugh that sent a shooting pain through Caroline’s head. “You know better’n me where your room is.”

Her patience was wearing thin. Amnesia might play a large role in a lot of jokes, but she wasn’t finding it funny. “Mrs. Lamb, I have amnesia. I don’t remember ever seeing this house before.”

“Oh, my stars. Of course, Caroline. You just come this way. Anything you want to know, you just ask me.”

If her head weren’t splitting into a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon, she might have taken the woman up on the offer. Later. She only had one question at the moment.

“If I want to invite someone to dinner, is that all right?”