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  Lifting her face, she watched his reaction. “Would you care if I’d left you, really left you?”

  Almost angrily, he broke the embrace and strode to the other side of the room, clenching his hands at his side as he paced the floor. “Yes, I’d care.” He ground out each word as if it were a weakness he was confessing. “I need you.” He turned around, and his face shone with the intensity of his feelings.

  “What about the baby?” she asked, her voice shaking violently.

  Karen thought she glimpsed pain in his eyes. “I never wanted the child.”

  Her shoulders hunched forward in defeat until the baby kicked, almost as if the child were saying she must fight for her father’s love. Approaching Rand, she took her husband’s hand and placed it against the budding roundness of her abdomen. Rand resisted at first until he felt the activity. A sense of wonder came over his face, and for a second, Karen was sure she witnessed a flicker of pride move across it.

  “That’s the baby?” he asked incredulously. “He’s so strong.”

  Karen smiled. Rand had referred to the baby as he, not as it.

  “The doctor says I’m carrying the baby high; that’s why I’m showing as much as I am.”

  Karen was sure he hadn’t even heard her as his hand moved over her stomach in a gentle caress, his eyes proud but tortured.

  “How can I be any kind of father?” The raw pain in his voice shocked Karen. “I’ll never see this child. More than that, I’ll never be the kind of father a child needs.”

  “Rand”—her voice shook with her own pain—“that’s not true.”

  He emitted a dry, bitter laugh. “You know what’s going to happen, don’t you? It’s inevitable. One day that child is going to be embarrassed to have me as his father. I’ll never be able to do the things other fathers do.” His voice trembled with emotion as he strode across the carpet like a man pushed to the limit. “I don’t want that baby, Karen, but I’m trying. At least give me credit for that.”

  She watched him with a sense of unreality. “Rand?” She had once stood in his office reading over his accomplishments, with the realization that there wasn’t anything this man couldn’t do. He’d overcome obstacles and prejudices she could only imagine, but the thought of this new life they’d created frightened him beyond all else. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t bother to deny her accusation. “I’m scared to death,” he bit out savagely, his face white and drawn.

  “Rand …”

  “No, let me finish. It’s always been important to me to be completely independent. I’ve struggled for that. Now, within the space of a few short months, I find myself responsible not only for myself but first a wife and now a child.”

  “I entered your life with the subtlety of a racing locomotive, didn’t I?” she asked with a tender smile.

  His returning one appeared involuntary. “Now the baby is doing the same thing to the both of us.”

  Karen’s smile relaxed, and she watched Rand with questioning eyes. “You believe me now, don’t you? I didn’t purposely get pregnant.”

  Rand’s mouth thinned. “Yes, I realized that almost immediately, but I was confused and hurt. I lashed out in anger. I wanted you to suffer, and yet every time I purposely hurt you, I suffered, too. I created my own hell. Then you were gone for those three days, and I nearly went insane. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without you now. Your love has affected every facet of my existence. I almost ruined what we have, didn’t I?”

  “No.” Her voice wavered slightly, a lump of happiness choking off her words. “I could never leave you.”

  “Then, this morning, when I phoned and you started talking about the baby, I went cold inside. My stomach knotted into a ball of pain, and I knew I’d lost. I was going to love the baby. Perhaps I was even subconsciously happy you were pregnant. I got scared. All I could think of was all the things a father should do … things I’ll never be able to do.”

  “But, Rand”—her hand gripped his arm—“don’t you realize what you have to offer is far more valuable than shooting baskets or tossing a baseball? Why is it you feel that being a good father is synonymous with being a jock?” She sighed, her voice husky with emotion. “Just being the person you are is more important than any physical feat you could ever accomplish.”

  “But, Karen …”

  “No, let me finish.” She stopped to kiss his throat softly but found the temptation too strong; fearing it would lead to other things, she broke the contact. “I fell in love with you almost from the time we met. It didn’t take me long to see past the angry façade you wore. I was sick with disappointment when I didn’t hear from you after the Christmas party. I knew then that I’d never meet anyone who would be more of a man than you. When we started seeing each other on a regular basis, it was like every dream I’d ever hoped to fulfill.” She gave a small, nervous laugh. “Every woman has a picture of what she’d like in the perfect man. Some see him as tall, dark, and handsome. You’re all of those, but I’ve known lots of men who fit that description. It was your sensitivity, your intelligence, your strength, both physical and emotional, that attracted me. When you decided to break off our relationship, it was like dying. I knew that although someday I would probably love and marry another, I’d never love anyone as much as I loved you. It was a dreadful thing Dad did to us. Such trickery goes against everything I’ve ever known from my father. I understand why he did it now. But even before I knew his reasoning, I was glad he’d forced your hand.”

  Gathering her close in the haven of his arms, he gently parted her moist lips in a kiss that kindled a fire of warmth and need that quickly spread through her body. But Rand also showed restraint, as if what they must say to each other was more important than the desire between them.

  “As much as I resented your father’s interference in my life, I realize he acted in the only way he could. I would never have married you otherwise, for the same reasons I didn’t want the baby. I left New York alone after the wedding with a harrowing ache eating at me. Your wedding ring was in my pocket, and every time I touched it, the ring felt like it had seared my skin. I kept remembering how you said you wanted a marriage that would last a lifetime and you weren’t interested in a three-day weekend. You’d been so shocked, so genuinely surprised, when I told you about being forced into the marriage. It was like being pulled apart. I was caught in the middle of a tug of war between my intellect, my will, and my desire for you.” He paused for a moment as if the memory continued to haunt him. “I wanted to hate you, make you suffer for all the agony I was enduring. At the same time, I desperately wanted to believe you. I yearned to hold my wife in my arms and love you as any husband. But most of all, I realized it didn’t matter what you’d done or how deceitful you’d been. I couldn’t deny myself any longer. I desired you as I’ve never wanted anything in my life. Do you remember when I replaced the wedding ring on your finger?”

  Karen smiled softly. “I’m not likely to forget.”

  “Your wedding ring burned my pocket the whole trip. I couldn’t keep myself from fingering it, as if touching it would ease the ache of not having you with me. I couldn’t return to Tacoma fast enough to place it where it belonged. And then you weren’t there.”

  “But I was,” she reminded him mockingly. “When I hurried into the house, Cora had her arms wrapped around you.”

  “I could have choked her for that, but I’ll explain the situation with Cora in a minute.” Gently, his hand caressed her cheek. “I hurried back to put the ring on your finger. Suddenly, you were there, and I realized, ring or no ring, you were my wife.”

  “About Cora?” Karen questioned.

  “Yes, Cora.” Rand expelled his breath in a long, drawn-out sigh. “At one time, she may have harbored some hope of the two of us getting together. But she realized such expectations are useless. I’m very much in love with my beautiful wife.”

  Karen held herself stiff. “That wasn’t exactly the
impression I got tonight when I saw you in the restaurant.”

  Rand’s returning grin was wry. “I’ve behaved like a madman most of the day. I tried repeatedly to get ahold of you and couldn’t. I was positive I’d really done it this time. I’d lost you, driven you away. I booked a flight home for tomorrow morning. It was the soonest I could get out. Cora was, I guess you’d say, comforting me, assuring me that things would work out between you and me.”

  The unyielding stiffness ebbed from Karen. “From now on, if you need any comfort, come to me.”

  “Don’t worry, honey. Cora knows where she stands.”

  Rand wasn’t explaining the complete situation to her. A lot had been left unsaid, perhaps for the better. This was her husband; she trusted his judgment.

  “And the baby?”

  “My attitudes aren’t going to change overnight. I’d rather you weren’t pregnant. The thought of this child terrifies me more than anything I’ve ever faced. I’m trying to accept the fact we’re going to have a family, but I’ll need time.”

  Karen swallowed tightly. “I can’t ask for anything more than that. The baby and I need you. We’re willing to do whatever it takes, to wait as long as you need. Your daughter and I will simply have to learn to be patient.”

  Rand’s arms tightened their grip around her, and he buried his face in her hair. “A daughter?” He looked surprised. “From the time you first told me you were pregnant, I’ve assumed the baby would be a boy.”

  “My dad has wanted a little granddaughter for years, and I’ve promised him a girl. Would you be unhappy with a daughter?” Karen questioned in afterthought.

  “In truth, I’d rather you weren’t pregnant at all. But as long as you and the baby are healthy, it doesn’t matter what you have.”

  His words of indifference still had the power to hurt, but she disguised their effect. “Good, because I’m hoping for a girl.” Unable to resist him much longer, she gave Rand a kiss.

  Rand’s laughter held a musical note. “I swear you’re still more McAlister than Prescott.”

  With a warm smile, Karen cupped his face and drew him down invitingly to her waiting lips. “I’m feeling very much like a Prescott right now.”

  Rand sucked in his breath and groaned before his mouth hungrily claimed hers.

  Her response was automatic as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his shirt. Rand smoothed her hair; then his hands ran through it, tangling it between his fingers, and his mouth descended to the slim column of her throat. Nestled in the comfort of his arms, Karen yawned. Their emotional talk that morning, the hurried flight to Cleveland, the time difference between Cleveland and Tacoma, were all demanding their due, and before she could prevent another, she yawned again.

  Rand sighed and gave a soft chuckle. “Come to bed, my love. You’re exhausted.”

  “I am.” Karen was too tired to argue.

  They undressed, and a few minutes later, she was again securely settled in her husband’s arms. A pang of hunger reminded her she’d hardly eaten all day.

  “Rand,” she whispered, “I’m starving—” She wasn’t allowed to finish. Rand’s mouth claimed hers again as his hands began a gentle exploration of her breasts.

  “Me, too,” he whispered huskily before claiming her mouth in a rousing, twisting kiss that left Karen weak with longing. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she didn’t bother to correct him.

  When Karen and Rand returned to Tacoma almost two weeks later, Karen was amazed at the rate of Matthew’s recovery. Although she’d spoken to him daily, she was unprepared for the healthy flush in his cheeks or the smile in his eyes. Karen was convinced Catherine was responsible for the renewed vitality.

  “Karen, lass.” Matthew flashed her a happy smile as they sauntered into the hospital room. “Rand, welcome. How was the trip?”

  “Good,” he responded simply, but the hand holding Karen’s tightened. The trip had been the honeymoon they’d never had. It was a time of reassurances, settling doubts and misunderstandings, and days of wondering at the strength of their love for each other.

  They rarely spoke of the baby. One morning, Karen had awakened to the feel of Rand’s fingers traveling lightly over her abdomen in a gentle caress. They had both felt the baby’s kick. Quickly, Rand jerked his hand away as though unprepared to touch this child or begin the simplest form of communication. Rand had told her he needed time; she must learn to be patient. Rushing things would do more harm than good.

  “Dad, you look wonderful.” Karen hugged him, her eyes aglow with a warm light. “Catherine,” she greeted, and impulsively gave the older woman a hug. It was the first time Karen had seen the other woman out of a nurse’s uniform and she was pleasantly surprised by her attractiveness.

  “I should be going,” Catherine offered, reaching for her purse. “Your family’s here to visit now.”

  “I’d like you to stay.” The unspoken message in his eyes was clear.

  A smile widened Catherine’s mouth, and she conceded.

  “How are you feeling, lass?” Matthew’s grin widened as his gaze rested on Karen’s rounding stomach.

  “Fine, Dad.” She looked away self-consciously, praying he wouldn’t go on about the baby in front of Rand. She wanted to warn him, plead with him to drop the subject, for she could already sense Rand’s withdrawal.

  “I guess I should have warned you, Rand. The McAlister women are a fertile group. I no more than hung my pants over the bed with Madeline and we had two girls before I knew what had happened. And as I recall, Judy had no trouble getting caught with James and Carter, either.”

  Karen stiffened, her smile frozen on taut lips.

  “I could have done with a warning,” Rand replied stiffly, but if Matthew noticed anything was wrong, he didn’t show it, laughing off Rand’s remark.

  Karen continued her daily visits to the hospital, but as the days passed, Matthew’s attitude became withdrawn. He was often melancholy, although he attempted a cheerful façade.

  Several days later, Karen asked, “Where’s Catherine? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

  “She’s busy, lass,” he explained stiffly, “too busy for an old man.”

  “I know you asked me to stay out of this,” Karen told Rand that night, “but I know something is wrong. Dad’s miserable, and other than a few brief visits, I don’t think Catherine’s been to see him at all.”

  Rand’s expression tightened. “Karen, your father is old enough to handle his own affairs. What’s between him and Catherine is none of our business.”

  She gave him a determined glance. “I’m going to visit Catherine.”

  “Karen,” Rand said with a note of warning.

  “I’m only going to say hello,” she assured him, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  Forced to wait for several minutes, Karen sat in the waiting room that had been a prison of anxiety the first days following Matthew’s surgery.

  “Karen!” Catherine joined her; a smile of welcome didn’t reach her eyes. “Your father’s not worse, is he?” There was no disguising the note of anxiety in her voice.

  “No, Dad’s doing fine. How have you been? We’ve missed you. We all have.” She hoped the inflection in her voice conveyed the message.

  Catherine glanced nervously at her hands. “I’ve been busy.”

  “That’s what Dad said.”

  Catherine avoided eye contact, her face slightly drawn.

  “All right,” Karen demanded, “what is it with you and Dad?”

  “There’s nothing between your father and me,” Catherine responded tightly, and stood.

  “Catherine!” Karen murmured in frustration.

  With an exasperated sigh, she turned around. “You’re more stubborn than your father. I don’t know what’s wrong, but every time I’ve been to see him lately, I get the impression he’d rather I didn’t come anymore. I think it’s obvious that he’s recovering and doesn’t want me around. I’m nothin
g but a bossy old woman. I do wish him the best.”

  Karen watched Catherine return to her ward. What was wrong with her father? Why would he behave in such a way?

  “I don’t understand it, Rand,” she told him later that evening. “Why would Dad act like that toward Catherine?”

  Rand arched an exaggerated brow. “Karen, I want your promise you won’t interfere in this. What goes on between Matthew and Catherine is none of your business.”

  “But Rand—”

  “No buts,” he insisted. “Your father’s behavior isn’t so difficult to understand. He’s going through a period of readjustment. He may love Catherine, but he wants to be sure he can offer her a healthy man. Let him work this out himself.”

  As the days progressed, Matthew showed renewed strength; his discharge date was set for the end of the week. When Rand and Karen visited the next night, they found Matthew out of bed, sitting in a chair waiting for them.

  “Rand, Karen, I need to be talking to ye.”

  His tone was so serious, Karen wondered if the doctors had found a complication to his heart condition.

  “Sit down,” Matthew ordered.

  Karen complied, her hand reaching for Rand’s. She’d never seen her father act so nervously.

  “Lass, I’ve already spoken to Judy and received her blessing; now I’m seeking yours. If ye have no objection, I plan on asking Catherine Thomas to be my wife. I love her,” he told them simply, directly.

  Karen could have cried with relief. “Dad, of course. I love her, too.”

  “Congratulations, Matthew,” Rand added.

  It wasn’t until they were alone that Rand chided Karen affectionately. “Now, didn’t I tell you things have a way of working out themselves without your meddling?”

  Karen gave a happy laugh. “I knew you couldn’t resist that, but I didn’t know you were the kind of husband who would stoop to saying ‘I told you so.’ ”

  Rand’s mouth twisted humorously. “Sure I am.”