What would you do to get your baby back?

Separated from her newborn son after a hospital fire, single mother Nina Fairchild will do anything to get her baby back—even request help from wealthy, sensual Grant Chambers. For Grant’s nephew is the spitting image of Nina’s missing son…

Grant will do whatever it takes to protect his family, including helping the woman who claims his sister stole her baby, if only to prove her wrong. Working so closely with Nina, Grant can’t help but be drawn to the beautiful widow. But with the records of her pregnancy having mysteriously disappeared, either Nina is truly crazy, or someone is trying to make her seem to be…

Previously published.

Somebody’s Baby
Amanda Stevens

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contetns

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Nina Fairchild cradled her newborn son in her arms as she gazed down at him. He was so tiny and so perfect. So incredibly beautiful. Already she felt an extraordinary bond with this baby. He was the only family she had left.

If only you could be here to see our son, Garrett. If only you could hold Dustin in your arms.

Would it have made a difference? she wondered. Would this precious child have been able to save their marriage?

Nina had been haunted by that question ever since Garrett had died two weeks before she’d learned she was pregnant.

Pain twisted inside her as she stared down at her son. Because of her, Dustin would never know his father. Would he grow up to resent her for that? Would he hate her when he learned how his father had lost his life?

It’s all your fault, Nina. Her brother-in-law’s furious words rang in her ears. Garrett is dead because of you, and somehow, some way, you’re going to pay. I’ll see to that.

Nina shivered, remembering the darkness in Trent Fairchild’s eyes. The warning in his voice.

The nurse leaned over Nina’s bed to take the baby from her. Nina’s arms tightened protectively around him. “Do you have to take him back so soon? I hate to let him out of my sight.”

“You won’t feel that way once you’ve gotten a few of those 2:00 a.m. feedings under your belt.” The nurse lifted Dustin into her arms and smiled down at him. “He is a little beauty, isn’t he? Look at that dark hair, and you so fair. But your sister has dark hair, doesn’t she?”

Nina frowned. “My sister?”

“She was here earlier while you were in labor. She seemed real anxious about the delivery.”

A tingle of alarm stole down Nina’s backbone. “I don’t have a sister.”

The nurse, settling the baby in the cart to wheel him back to the nursery, glanced up, a cloud flitting across her features. “Then I must be wrong. I thought she said she was your sister, but we have two other mothers in labor and delivery tonight. The place is a madhouse, what with Dr. Bernard being detained and all.”

“What did this woman look like?” Nina asked.

The nurse shrugged. “Late twenties. Petite. Dark hair. She wore glasses, I think.”

Instantly an image of Karen Smith, a young woman who had befriended Nina in a Houston park several months ago, leaped to mind. But Karen had recently reconciled with her husband and moved away. What would she be doing here?

Nina hadn’t told anyone she planned to have her baby at a small branch hospital in Galveston rather than at the huge medical complex in Houston. There was no way Karen could have found her. No way Trent Fairchild could have tracked her down here, either.

The nurse had to be mistaken, but the prickle of uneasiness wouldn’t go away. Why would someone pretend to be Nina’s sister? She didn’t have a sister. Except for Dustin, she had no one.

“Is the woman still here?” she asked anxiously.

“I can check, but I don’t think so. Visiting hours ended a long time ago. Speaking of which…” The nurse arched a stern brow. “It’s time for this little guy to get his rest, and so should you.” As if she sensed Nina’s distress, her features softened. “Look, I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I must have gotten the name wrong, that’s all. Wouldn’t be the first time, and like I said, it’s been crazy around here all night.”

The nurse’s soothing tone helped calm Nina’s fears. She was right, of course. It had to be a mistake. The months of worrying about Trent’s threats had made her paranoid.

Nina got out of bed and leaned over the cart. Her long straight hair curtained her face, and she tucked it behind her ears as she stared down at her son. “I’ll see you in a little while,” she whispered.

“It’ll come sooner than you think,” the nurse told her. “So you’d better crawl back into that bed and get some sleep.”

Nina smothered a yawn. “I am a little tired.”

“Well, they don’t call it labor for nothing, you know.” She patted Nina’s hand. “Now don’t you worry. I’ll bring him back in a few hours for his feeding.”

“I can hardly wait,” Nina murmured as she bent to kiss her baby’s satiny cheek one last time.

* * *

Nina awakened sometime later, her heart pounding in fear. At first she thought the wails and screams she heard were echoes from the nightmare she’d been having about the car crash that had taken Garrett’s life. But then, coming more fully awake, she realized the cacophony of terror was all too real. Panicked voices sounded from the hallway outside her door, and from the street three stories below her window, the scream of sirens rose to an almost unbearable crescendo.

An acrid scent stung her mouth and throat, and Nina’s panic mushroomed as she recognized the smell. Smoke!

Was the hospital on fire?

Dear God, Dustin! She had to get to her baby…make sure he was okay…get him to safety….

Her frantic thoughts spiraling out of control, Nina struggled out of bed and slipped on her robe as she crossed the room slowly, her muscles still weak from her labor. As she opened the door, the pandemonium of a full-scale evacuation erupted down the corridor.

Nina started down the hallway, trailing the exodus. She grabbed a passing nurse’s arm, and the woman whirled, her face a tightly controlled mask of fear. “Where did you come from?” she demanded.

Nina pointed down the hallway. “Room 317. What’s happening?”

“This floor is being evacuated. There’s a fire.”

Nina’s hand tightened on the woman’s arm. “The nursery is on this floor!”

The woman hesitated, then said, “Don’t worry. The babies would have been the first to be moved. You should have already been out of here, too.”

“No one came to my room,” Nina said. “I was asleep.”

The nurse’s eyes widened in alarm, but she shrugged helplessly and shook off Nina’s hand. “Just go. Head for the stairs. Do you need assistance?”

“No, I’m all right.” But when the woman turned away, Nina sagged against the wall, her strength waning. The sprinklers had come on, and she was soaked. Her robe felt like an iron mantle around her shoulders as she pushed herself away from the wall and staggered down the hallway. But rather than heading for the emergency exit, she turned the other way, toward the nursery.

Don’t worry. The babies would have been the first to be moved.

But Nina had seen the doubt in the woman’s eyes. She couldn’t be sure the babies had been evacuated, and neither could Nina. No one had come for her, had they? How could she be certain Dustin had been removed from harm’s way unless she checked for herself?

The corridors were eerily deserted now, but Nina could still hear shouts in the distance. As she rounded a corner, a man in green scrubs hurried by her. Nina recognized him. He was the young resident who had delivered Dustin.

“Dr. Wharton!”

The man stopped and glanced over his shoulder. When he saw Nina, he slipped something into the pocket of his scrubs, but he made no move to join her. His face showed more impatience than fear, and not one shred of recognition. “Who are you?” he asked. “What the hell are you still doing in here?”

Nina put out a hand in supplication. “Please help me. You delivered my baby earlier. A little boy. I have to make sure he’s okay.”

“The nursery’s already been evacuated. I just came from there.”

Nina took a shaky step toward him. “Are you sure?”

He fingered the pocket of his scrubs. “Yeah. Everyone’s split. Now I suggest we do the same.”

Not waiting for a response, he turned and strode away, leaving Nina wavering in the hallway. Dustin was safe, she told herself. He had to be. But something inside her wouldn’t allow her to leave without making sure. If she hadn’t left Garrett that night, he might still be alive. He might have been here to witness the birth of his son.

Holding her robe against her nose and mouth, Nina located the nursery and gazed through the glass partition. The babies were gone, thank God. Now she had to get herself to safety.

But the smoke had suddenly grown so thick, she became disoriented. Terror washed over her. She looked up and saw flames eating through the ceiling tiles.

She hurried down the hallway. Just as she saw the glow of the exit sign ahead, a new premonition of danger stole over her. Glancing back, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was still in the building with her.

She started to call out, but suddenly a portion of the ceiling collapsed and something hit her head. Pain shot through her skull as she fell, stunned and terrified, to the floor.

Coughing, struggling for breath, Nina turned her last conscious thought to Dustin. If she didn’t make it out of here alive, who would take care of her son?

* * *

Nina came to abruptly, fear exploding inside her. She was trapped inside a burning building! She had to get out! She had to find Dustin!

But when she tried to rise, she was pushed back down. Something covered her mouth and nose, and in a full-blown panic, she fought to remove it. Again a strong hand stilled her action.

“Take it easy,” a man’s voice said. “You’re going to be fine. We’re giving you oxygen. You inhaled quite a bit of smoke, but I don’t think there’s any serious damage to your lungs. We’ll know for sure when we get you to a hospital.”

Nina’s mind whirled in confusion. She lay quiet for a moment, trying to orient herself. Trying to make sense of what had happened. The hospital had somehow caught fire and was apparently still burning. The blaze reddened the sky above her, and she could still hear the shouts of the firemen and the sound of the pumps gushing water. She’d been trapped inside the hospital, knocked unconscious, but now she was outside, lying on the ground while someone—a doctor, she presumed—hovered over her.

He allowed her to lift the oxygen mask long enough to croak, “What happened? How did I get out here?”

“One of the firemen found you inside. You were lucky they double-checked the building. We thought we had everyone out. What were you doing in there anyway? Never mind,” he said quickly when she started to remove the mask again. “Don’t try to talk. Just lie still. As soon as an ambulance is available, we’ll get you to another hospital.”

Nina motioned frantically at the mask, and with a sigh of impatience, he lifted it once again. She swallowed, trying to ease the burning pain in her throat. “Where did they take my baby?” she asked hoarsely.

“Your baby was in the nursery?” When Nina nodded, he said, “All the newborns were taken to St. Mary’s in Houston. They have an excellent neonatal ICU, but don’t worry. It’s just a precaution. My understanding is that all of the infants are fine.”

Her worst fears calmed for the moment, Nina tried to relax, but it was upsetting to think of Dustin, so tiny and vulnerable, all alone in Houston, while she lay on the ground outside a burning hospital in Galveston. He was only a few hours old and already they’d been separated.

How could this have happened? Nina wondered. How could a hospital catch fire and burn so quickly?

“I’ll have you transferred to St. Mary’s so you can be with your baby.” The doctor jotted something on a notepad. He lifted her hand to glance at her wrist, then frowned. “Your hospital ID bracelet is missing. Any idea what happened to it?”

Nina shook her head. Right now a missing ID bracelet was the least of her worries.

The doctor, however, seemed overly concerned about it. His scowl deepened. “You usually have to cut those things off. They don’t just fall off by themselves.”

Was it her imagination, or was there a hint of suspicion in the man’s words and in the way he glanced down at her?

“I’ll need your name,” he said, lifting the oxygen mask from her mouth. “And your room number. Later there may be other questions.”

* * *

By the time Nina was finally transported to the emergency room at St. Mary’s, she’d been taken off the oxygen. Her breathing was even, but still painful. She was exhausted, her throat and chest ached and the horrors of the past few hours still haunted her. But all she wanted was to see her baby.

When a doctor finally came into the cubicle to examine her, Nina pleaded with him to let her see her son. “Please. He’s all I’ve got.”

Dropping his air of professionalism for a moment, the doctor nodded sympathetically. He turned to the nurse behind him. “Go see what you can find out about the Fairchild baby. Let me know as soon as you hear something.”

When the nurse exited the room, Nina said, “Thank you. I have to know he’s all right. I’ve been so worried—”

“No need to thank me.” His tone was brisk. “I have kids of my own. Now, try to get some rest. We’ll send you upstairs as soon as a bed becomes available. Then you’ll be able to see your son for yourself.”

Just as he was about to leave, the nurse hurried back into the cubicle. She murmured something in the doctor’s ear, and with a quick glance at Nina, the two dashed out.

Nina tried to tell herself whatever was wrong had nothing to do with Dustin. The emergency room was chaotic. The doctor was probably needed elsewhere, some life-or-death crisis that would explain the tense look on his face.

But when he came back into the cubicle a few moments later, a new terror seized her. Something was definitely wrong.

“What’s the matter with my baby?” She hardly recognized her own voice. It sounded far too calm, far too in control to belong to someone who was paralyzed with such fear. “What’s wrong with Dustin? I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible at the moment.”

“Oh, my God.” Nina’s chest tightened. Dizziness swept over her, and for a moment, she wanted to succumb to the darkness. Wanted to hide from what she was about to learn. “My baby…is he…?”

The doctor took her hand. “I’m sure your baby is fine. No cause for alarm, but…it seems there’s been some sort of mix-up. Your baby isn’t here.”

Nina stared at him in confusion, uncertain whether to feel relief or despair. What did he mean, Dustin wasn’t here? If he wasn’t here, where was he? “I don’t understand. I was told my son was brought to this hospital. Where is he? Why can’t I see him? What’s happened to him?”

“We’re making some calls right now. Some of the patients from Galveston were taken to other area hospitals. We’ll find your baby, Mrs. Fairchild. There’s no reason to worry.”

No reason to worry? Her baby was missing, and this man was advising her not to worry?

After he’d left the cubicle again, Nina lay there and tried to think what to do. What could she do? She wasn’t in any condition to get up and start a search herself, and yet the thought of entrusting her baby’s safety to complete strangers was almost overwhelming. Did they have any idea what Dustin meant to her? How much she loved him? How much she needed him?

He had to be all right, Nina told herself, but as much as she wanted to believe in the power of positive thinking, she knew firsthand how wrong things could go. Hadn’t she prayed for Garrett’s safety on the roadside that night? Hadn’t she told herself he would be all right if she left him long enough to go for help?

Inadvertently an image of Trent Fairchild materialized in her mind. She could see his handsome face contorted with rage, the cold, black hatred in his eyes as he’d glared down at her at the funeral. It’s all your fault, Nina. Garrett is dead because of you, and somehow, some way, you’re going to pay. I’ll see to that.

Dear God, was this her punishment? Was Dustin being taken from her because of what she’d done to Garrett?

When the door to the cubicle opened again, Nina jumped. The doctor walked slowly to her bedside, his expression grim. Nina’s heart began to pound. She tried to look away from him, but couldn’t. As adept as she was at protecting her emotions, concealing her fears, there was no hiding from this. No running away from the truth.

“I’m going to be straight with you, Mrs. Fairchild.” The gentleness of his tone almost did her in. She clutched the bed sheets in her fists as her throat knotted with fear.

“So far, we haven’t been able to locate your son. I still believe there’s been some sort of mix-up with Galveston, and in a few hours we’ll get it all sorted out. You’ll be holding your son in your arms in no time. But meanwhile…” His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped from hers. “Just to be on the safe side, we’re calling in the police….”

Chapter One

Six months later

“Sergeant Farrell, please.” Nina fastened her long hair into a ponytail as she waited on hold. She knew from experience it could take several minutes for Boyd Farrell to answer his phone, so she used the time to scan the web page she’d designed for a local bookstore.

Nina loved her job. Designing web pages for small businesses who wanted to join the information superhighway was uniquely exciting. But working at home also had its drawbacks. Always somewhat of a loner, Nina would sometimes go for days without seeing another soul, and she knew that wasn’t particularly healthy. Perhaps that was why she’d been so susceptible to Karen Smith’s overtures of friendship. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t recognized the woman’s deception.

“Sergeant Farrell,” a masculine voice said in her ear.

“It’s Nina.”

She could imagine him running a hand through his thinning, light brown hair, perhaps staring at the framed picture of his wife and daughter on his desk while he figured out a tactful way to get rid of her.

“How are you, Nina?”

“Hanging in there.” She forced an optimism into her tone. “What’s the latest?”

She heard him sigh and tried to steel herself against the inevitable disappointment. “There’s nothing new on the case. You know I would have called you if there were.”

Of course she knew that, but she still couldn’t help hoping. Every time she called him, she couldn’t help hoping.

“No leads on Karen Smith?”

Another pause. The questions were always the same. So were the answers. “Afraid not.”

“She couldn’t have just vanished from the face of the earth,” Nina insisted. “She’s out there somewhere with my baby.”

“We don’t know for sure who took your baby. We have to keep an open mind, Nina. Dustin’s kidnapping could have been random. Any one of the infants in that nursery could have been taken during the fire.”

“But they weren’t,” she countered. “Only Dustin. If he wasn’t singled out, why was my ID bracelet missing? Was that just some strange coincidence?”

“I don’t know,” Farrell admitted.

She pressed her point. “You know as well as I do the evidence points to Karen Smith—the way she met me in the park that day, how she kept coming back until we became friends and she found out everything about me. If she didn’t take Dustin, why did she just disappear like that? Why haven’t you been able to find a Karen Smith who fits her description?”

They’d covered this ground so many times, but to Farrell’s credit, he always responded with patience. “Like I’ve told you before, it’s possible the woman was a professional. She could have scoped you out ahead of time, found out you were alone and pregnant and decided you’d be an easy target. At this point, we just don’t know. But, Nina, if a professional did take your baby—”

“I know.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about the possibilities, even after all this time. If Karen Smith had taken Dustin, it probably wasn’t to keep him, but to broker him—to sell him to someone desperate for a baby. Even if they found Karen, there were no guarantees she would lead them to Dustin.

“What about the fire?” Nina finally asked. “Any leads there?”

“The arson investigators haven’t closed the case, but there’s still nothing conclusive.”

“You and I both know she set the fire. She was there that night, pretending to be my sister.”

“Unfortunately we don’t have any corroborating evidence on that, either,” Farrell reminded her. “The nurse you spoke with that night thinks she may have been mistaken about the person claiming to be your sister. And no one else remembers seeing a dark-haired woman hanging around Labor and Delivery.”

“But she was there,” Nina said bitterly. “She burned an entire hospital to the ground so that she could take my son and disappear with him. Why haven’t you been able to find her? Why haven’t you done something, anything to put that woman behind bars and bring my son back to me?”

Six months of grief and frustration trembled in Nina’s voice, and it was all she could do to suppress her emotions. But breaking down wouldn’t help find Dustin. She had to remain calm, in control. She had to keep Sergeant Farrell on her side.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That wasn’t fair.”

“I’ve been wondering when it would happen. Your restraint has been nothing short of remarkable.” Something crept into his voice that Nina couldn’t quite define. “Believe me, I’m doing everything I can to find Dustin.”

She wanted to be encouraged by his words, but six months was a long time. An eternity. Even a mother’s hope couldn’t stay alive forever. She fought back the sting of tears. “I know you are. Please, Sergeant. Just don’t give up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “And you hang in there. I’ll talk to you next week, okay?”

Nina took a deep breath, mustering her fragile resolve. “Okay.”

As always, when she severed the call, it seemed as if she’d cut away a piece of her heart. No news, no witnesses, no leads of any kind. After all this time, the trail had grown so cold, she knew it would take a miracle to find her baby.

And as Nina knew from experience, miracles were very hard to come by.

Chapter Two

“Grant, I swear,” Vanessa Baldwin drawled. “I’ve never seen a man take to a baby the way you have to John David. You’ve been back from Caracas, what, three weeks? And already you’ve spoiled that child rotten.” She toyed nervously with a pink diamond that lay in the hollow of her throat.

Grant’s sister was as beautiful as always, but she looked a little more fragile than he remembered. He wondered if she was taking care of herself, if she was taking her medication as she was supposed to.

He arched a brow in her direction. “So what if I am spoiling the little guy. Isn’t that what an uncle’s supposed to do?”

They were sitting in Grant’s office at Chambers Petroleum while Vanessa waited for her husband, Clayton Baldwin, the company’s vice president, to finish with his meeting. A meeting that had ominously excluded Grant.

Since returning from a four-year stint in the Venezuelan oil fields, Grant had found it harder than he’d expected to assimilate himself back into the political machinations of the company. His return had renewed speculation regarding his father’s successor at Chambers Petroleum. As J. D. Chambers’s only son, Grant should have been the leading contender for that position. But four years ago, he’d managed to land himself in the middle of a scandal that had proved almost ruinous to the company and to the family. His subsequent exile to the Venezuelan jungle had been his retribution and, considering the success of the venture, his redemption.

But in Grant’s absence, his strongest competitor, Clayton Baldwin, had managed to get himself promoted to vice president, marry the boss’s daughter and—the coup de grâce—present J. D. Chambers with his only grandchild. A son, no less. The only Chambers heir.

Grant stared down at the baby he held on his lap and tried to muster a little resentment. But it was no use. When he looked at his nephew, all he saw was a cute kid with a toothless grin. A nearly bald little charmer who had managed to wrap his uncle around his little finger.

Visions of baseball games and hot-dog stands danced in Grant’s head.

“…just can’t wait around forever,” Vanessa was saying. “You don’t have any idea how long Clayton and Daddy will be in that meeting with the Ventura people?”

“I wasn’t made privy to their agenda,” Grant said dryly.

His sister frowned. “Oh, Grant. You know I despise this competition between you and Clayton. It just doesn’t seem fair. Why should I be put in the position of having to choose between my brother and my husband?”

“It’s not exactly your choice,” Grant reminded her.

“I know, but I can’t help wishing—” Vanessa broke off, biting her lip.

“That I would bow out gracefully?”

Her blue eyes took on a repentant look. “I know how much you love this company. You’ve worked like a dog since high school. But, Grant, I honestly can’t see you settling down to run Chambers Petroleum. The day-to-day details would bore you to tears.”

He glanced at her. “And not Clayton?”

“He’s a family man now. He has responsibilities. He’s matured a lot since you’ve been gone.”

And grown into an even bigger jerk, Grant thought but refrained from saying so. He made a face at the baby instead, and John David laughed, waving his arms appreciatively. Grant settled him at his shoulder, so the little boy could look out the window behind them.

Vanessa’s expression grew puzzled. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Act so…I don’t know…natural with him. You’ve never been around babies. I didn’t even think you liked kids.”

Grant shrugged. “Neither did I, but John David and I just hit it off. Didn’t we, buddy?”

As if in agreement, the baby gurgled and laughed, then promptly spit up on Grant’s shoulder.

Vanessa jumped to her feet. “Oh, no. Grant, you’ll positively reek for the rest of the day.”

“I’ve smelled worse, believe me. You haven’t lived until you’ve been in the jungle for two months at a stretch.” Calmly, Grant handed John David to Vanessa, then reached for the baby wipes she put on his desk. Vanessa held the child gingerly, as if afraid he would spit up on her pink suit.

Grant didn’t understand why his sister seemed so uneasy with the baby. John David was six months old. Surely Vanessa should be used to motherhood by now, but in the three weeks Grant had been home, he had begun to notice a disturbing pattern. Both Vanessa and Clayton talked incessantly about the baby, but neither of them seemed to spend much time with him. John David was usually in the care of his nanny.

And as if on cue, Alice Becker came bustling into Grant’s office. She looked windblown and frazzled, but rather than letting her catch her breath, Vanessa stood and handed her the baby. “You’re late.”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Baldwin,” the woman said contritely. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not.” Vanessa turned to Grant. “I can’t wait any longer for Clayton. Will you tell him I stopped by?”

“Sure.”

To the nanny, she said, “I have another appointment near here, but I’ll take you and the baby home first.”

“Oh, I was hoping you could drop us at the park,” Alice said, her eyes lowered. “We could both do with some fresh air.”

Vanessa frowned. “I’m sure you could, but thanks to my husband, I’m running late enough as it is. The park is out of the question. By the time I take you all the way home—”

“What are you talking about?” Grant interjected. “There’s a park right across the street.”

“What?” Vanessa whirled, her blue eyes wide with surprise, as if she had somehow forgotten his presence.

Grant pointed to the window. “Mirror Lake Park is just across the street. It’d be a shame for John David to be cooped up in the house on such a beautiful day. Why don’t you drop him and Mrs. Becker off at the park, then pick them up when you finish with your appointment? It would even save you from having to take them all the way home first.”

Vanessa’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly. “My appointment could take a couple of hours.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” the nanny chirped in. “Mr. Chambers is right. The weather is beautiful.” She threw him a dazzling smile, which Grant briefly acknowledged, then glanced away. He didn’t want to give her encouragement. In the few times he’d been in Alice Becker’s presence, she’d made him decidedly uncomfortable.

“There was a mugging in Mirror Lake Park a few weeks ago,” Vanessa said. “I don’t think it’s safe.”

Grant laughed. “You’re just being an overprotective mother. Every park in Houston has the occasional mugging. Mirror Lake is perfectly safe, especially in the middle of the day.”

Vanessa bit her lip. “I don’t know.” She glanced at Alice Becker and John David, obviously torn by what seemed to Grant an inconsequential decision. Then she shrugged. “I suppose it’ll be okay. But look—” she tapped her diamond watch with her fingertip “—I want you to have the baby in the parking lot at a quarter of one. I don’t want to have to go tramping all over the park looking for you.”

“Of course, Mrs. Baldwin.” Alice Becker sent Grant another smile, then bent to retrieve John David’s diaper bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she competently shifted the baby to her other hip and hurried out of the office.

Vanessa gave Grant a sour look. “See what you’ve done. As if that woman wasn’t smitten enough before—”

“Don’t even start,” Grant warned. He came around the desk to give his sister a peck on the cheek. “And stop worrying. It’s just an afternoon in the park. They’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” Vanessa fretted. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a parent.”

“No, I guess I don’t.”

If there was regret in his tone, Vanessa seemed not to notice. She picked up her purse and headed for the door. “Don’t forget about tonight,” she called. “The party is in your honor, so don’t even think about not showing up.”

“That was the old Grant. You’re looking at the new and improved version.”

She paused at the door and glanced back. “Not too new and improved, I hope. I sort of liked you as the black sheep.”

“Only because it made you look so good.”

Vanessa smiled, her pink-tinted lips curling in amusement. But there was something in her eyes, a glimmer of emotion Grant couldn’t quite define. “You always did know me too well,” she murmured.

* * *

The park was nearly deserted. It seemed lonelier than usual without the shouts and laughter of the children, but most of them were still in school this time of day.

Perhaps it was just as well, Nina thought, walking along a leaf-strewed pathway. Though she’d haunted the park—the last place she’d seen Karen Smith—for months, the children were always a painful reminder of her loss.

Lifting her face to the sky, Nina drew a long breath. The sun warmed her face and shoulders, but the coldness inside her lingered. Six months, she thought numbly. Six long months without a trace.

Where was Dustin at this moment? Was he happy? Was he being taken care of? Or was he…?

Nina closed her eyes briefly. Most of the time, she was able to keep the terror at bay, but there were times like today when every mother’s nightmare tormented her. Her baby was missing, and she had no idea where he was or who had him. Had he been hurt? Was he still alive?

Abruptly Nina turned down another path, heading toward the deserted playground. Finding a bench, she sat down, her thoughts spiraling back to the days when she’d come to the park after Garrett’s death, when a tiny life growing inside her had been all that had kept her from despair.

Nina scanned her surroundings. What are you looking for? Did you think Karen Smith would simply appear out of the blue and give you back your son? Is that why you came here today? Is that why you always come here?

It had been a day very much like today when she’d first met Karen in the park. The sun had been shining then, too, but the weather had been cooler. Nina had worn a loose sweater over jeans, and although her pregnancy had not yet been outwardly noticeable, she’d been fascinated by all the changes occurring within her body. She’d been sitting alone on a bench that day, hand on her stomach, when she’d felt her baby move for the first time.

Startled at first, she sat stone still, unsure what was happening to her. Then the tiny flutter came again, and Nina laughed out loud, marveling at the miracle growing inside her.

“Excuse me.”

Nina glanced up to find a dark-haired woman standing over her. She was petite and very pretty, her blue eyes softly glowing behind black-rimmed glasses. She smiled knowingly, as if she shared Nina’s secret.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Nina stared at her in surprise. “How did you know?”

The woman’s smile turned shy. “I’ve been watching you. I’ve seen you here before. You always keep one hand on your stomach. See?”

She nodded, and Nina glanced down. Her hand was still resting against her stomach. Almost self-consciously she removed it.

The woman sat down beside her. “I only noticed because I did the same thing when I was pregnant. It was the most wonderful experience in the world.” She broke off and glanced down. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy, coming over here like this.”

“No,” Nina said impulsively. “No, I don’t. I know exactly what you mean. It is wonderful. So wonderful you want to share it with someone.”

And Nina had no one. It hadn’t hit her until that moment how truly alone she was. No friends, no family, no one with whom to share this blessing.

And Karen Smith seemed just as lonely. There was something about her that immediately drew Nina to her. Perhaps it was the shadow of pain in the woman’s eyes or the self-conscious way she had of dipping her head, as if she didn’t quite have the courage to look you in the eye. Perhaps it was because Karen had suffered a great loss, too, miscarrying three months into her pregnancy.

Nina could relate to all of those things. She and Karen were like kindred spirits. They began meeting in the park almost daily, their conversations revolving around Nina’s baby at first. But then gradually, as their friendship deepened and Nina’s pregnancy progressed, she found herself confiding in Karen as she had never been able to do with anyone else. Not even with her husband.

She told Karen about her impulsive marriage to Garrett, how he had swept her off her feet and how his family had despised her from the first, how they thought she was nothing but a gold digger after the Fairchild money. She told Karen about her insecurities and how she had allowed Garrett’s family to use them against her. How in the end, he had chosen his family over her.

Karen had been so sympathetic, the perfect listener. How could Nina have known it was all just pretend, that the deception had begun the moment Karen had approached her in the park that day?

“Excuse me.”

Nina was so caught up in her reverie, that when a woman’s voice spoke in front of her, she jumped. She looked up, almost expecting—hoping—to see Karen Smith, but the woman who gazed down at her was a stranger. Her plump, round face had none of Karen’s fragile beauty, and her hair—rather than dark and exotic—was a light mousy brown.

The woman, pushing a baby carriage, indicated the bench beside Nina. “Would you mind if we sit here? He’s a little fussy. I think he’s ready for his bottle.”

Nina swallowed and nodded. She hadn’t been this close to a baby since the day Dustin was born. Her arms ached when the woman lifted the child from the stroller and settled him on her lap.

Nina tried not to look. She tried to glance away, but the baby’s obvious distress drew her attention in spite of herself.

She couldn’t tell much about his features, other than the fact that he had almost no hair. His face was red and puckered, and for a long moment, no sound came out of his mouth. Then he finally caught his breath, stiffened his body, threw back his head and let loose a wail that could have been heard two city blocks away.

Nina watched in fascination as the woman struggled to quiet him. She reached forward, fishing in an overflowing diaper bag for a bottle as the child screamed and squirmed on her lap.

She gave Nina an apologetic glance. “He’s teething, too.”

“Can I help?” Nina asked hesitantly.

“I can’t find his bottle,” the woman said in exasperation. “I know I packed it.”

“Maybe you left it in the car,” Nina suggested.

The woman cut her a look. “I hope not. His mother dropped us off. We don’t usually come to this park. There’s one much closer to the house, but Mrs. Baldwin had an appointment and this one was more convenient. She won’t be back for a while.” The woman held the child with one arm while rummaging through the diaper bag. “John David, be still. You’re only making things worse.”

After a few more moments, the woman gave up. “Maybe you can help.”

Nina reached for the diaper bag, but the woman raised the baby in her arms instead. “Do you mind?”

Nina hesitated. Don’t do this, a little voice warned. Don’t torture yourself. Don’t remind yourself of what might have been.

But it was no use. She could no more have stopped herself from taking that baby than she could have prevented the sun from coming up in the morning.

A nun in the orphanage where Nina had been raised once told her that she was born to be a mother. That someday all the love she had stored up inside her would be lavished on her own children. And they would adore her in return. Nina had dreamed of that day. Lived for the moment when she would finally hold her baby—her own flesh and blood—in her arms.

Her throat tightened as she held the writhing child against her, drinking in the sweetness of him. The innocence.

He looked to be about six months old, as Dustin would be now, and what little hair he had was dark, as Dustin’s had been. The child stirred something powerful in Nina she didn’t understand. He was a stranger, and yet so many emotions rushed over her. What was happening to her?

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she crooned, cradling him against her as she rocked to and fro. “Everything’s okay.”

“His bottle isn’t in here,” the woman beside her muttered. “I don’t know what could have happened to it. Mrs. Baldwin must have taken it out, though for the life of me—” She turned with a teething ring and handed it to Nina. “Here, let’s try this.”

Nina did as she was told, but the baby promptly shoved the useless plastic away. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” she murmured.

The woman sighed. “I’m afraid he’ll just have to wait until his mother gets here.”

She reached for the baby, but Nina said quickly, “Oh, may I please hold him for a little longer? I think he’s starting to quiet.”

The woman looked doubtful. “I’ve imposed on you long enough.”

“It’s no imposition. Please. Just a minute more.” There was a desperate note in Nina’s voice she didn’t recognize. Why was it so important she hold on to this child? He was a stranger and she was acting as if—”You’ve been very kind.” The woman’s tone grew insistent. “But I’ll take the baby now.”

“Please—”

“Give me the child!”

The fear in the woman’s eyes startled Nina. What on earth was she doing? She’d frightened the poor woman half to death, and all because she’d wanted to hold the baby in her arms a little longer. Wanted to pretend a little longer.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. Just as she was about to hand the child back, she saw a man striding toward them. He was tall and broad shouldered with thick black hair and—Nina saw when he drew closer—gray eyes that were very dark and very piercing.

The woman beside her looked enormously relieved when she spotted him. She jumped up from the bench and grabbed his arm. “Mr. Chambers! I’m so glad to see you!”

His dark gaze went from the woman to Nina, and then to the baby she still held on her lap. His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?” he demanded, in a voice every bit as dark and deep as his eyes.

As if also affected by the man’s sudden appearance, the baby on Nina’s lap grew still, staring up at the stranger with rapt attention.

“She won’t give the baby back to me!” the woman said in a shrill voice. “She insisted on holding him while I looked for his bottle, and then she wouldn’t give him back to me.”

Nina winced. “No, please, it wasn’t like that. I can explain—”

The man walked over and took the baby from her with such authority, Nina shrank away from him. He swung the child up into his arms, and John David laughed delightedly, momentarily forgetting his hunger pains.

With the flair of a magician, the man produced a bottle from his jacket pocket. “I thought you might be needing this,” he said to the woman beside him. “Vanessa left it in my office.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” she exclaimed, taking both baby and bottle from the man. “You’re a lifesaver, Mr. Chambers.” She settled the baby in the stroller and gave him his bottle. The baby instantly quieted. The woman straightened and glared at Nina. “Should we call the police?”

The man nodded toward the parking lot. “Why don’t you take John David back to my car? Vanessa should be here soon.”

“Yes, sir.” With one last look at Nina, the woman turned and headed across the park.

Nina tore her gaze from the departing stroller and glanced up at the stranger. He towered over her, looking dark and grim and more formidable that she would have ever thought possible.

He was very handsome in a tough and arrogant sort of way. The casualness of his apparel—jeans, boots and a lightweight leather jacket—didn’t fool her. He had the look and demeanor of a man who had power and money and knew how to use both to his advantage.

He reminded her of the Fairchilds, and Nina felt a sudden stab of resentment. Who was he to judge her? He didn’t know her. He didn’t know anything about her.

“I wasn’t going to hurt your baby,” she said. “I would never do that. I…just wanted to hold him.”

He said sharply, “Who are you?”

“I’m no one. I didn’t mean any harm. I’ll go quietly away, and you’ll never see me again.”

He caught her arm when she stood. A thrill of fear shot through her as his gaze probed her face. “Why do I get the feeling I know you from somewhere?”

“You don’t.” Nina forced her tone to remain even. “I’ve never seen you before. I wanted to hold your baby because I—” She started to explain about Dustin, then broke off. “It doesn’t matter why. I’m sorry.”

Was it her imagination or had his features softened? He was still gazing down at her with a quizzical look in his eyes. “No harm done, I guess.” His hand fell away from her arm. “But I would be careful from now on if I were you. People are very protective when it comes to their children. Someone might get the wrong idea, and you could find yourself in some pretty serious trouble.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode away. Nina waited for a few minutes, then took a circuitous route to the parking lot, hoping he would be gone by the time she arrived at her car. But as she reached to unlock her door, she saw him.

He was standing beside a silver BMW, bending slightly to talk to the blond woman inside. The other woman—the nanny, Nina presumed—was busy fastening the baby into his car seat. Then she climbed into the back with him while the man stored the stroller in the trunk. He said another quick word to the blonde, then she started the engine and backed out of the parking slot.

Nina hurriedly climbed into her own car, hoping she wouldn’t be detected. But as the silver BMW approached Nina’s parking space, the blonde slowed the car, waiting for a truck that had backed out in front of her. Her window was still down, and as she drew even with Nina’s car, she glanced over, then away, then back again. Their gazes locked.

It was one of those life-defining moments. One of those impossible coincidences. It couldn’t really be happening, and yet there she was.

Nina’s breath left her in a painful rush as she stared at the woman behind the wheel. The hair color was different, as was her expression and demeanor. But her eyes…something about her eyes…

For one split second, both women seemed frozen in time. Then the blonde whipped her head around, and the car shot forward. But the shock on her face mirrored Nina’s. She’d recognized Nina, too, and for one very good reason.

The woman in the silver BMW was Karen Smith.

Chapter Three

“Sergeant Farrell, please.” Nina tried to catch her breath while she waited for the detective to answer his phone. She still couldn’t believe it had happened. How many times had she gone to that park since Dustin had disappeared, hoping to find him, hoping to see Karen Smith?

When the car first sped away, Nina had tried her best to follow, but once they’d left the park, traffic thickened on Memorial. The best she could do was keep the silver car in sight, but eventually even that proved fruitless. The BMW was much faster than Nina’s compact. Without warning, it had shot up an on-ramp to the freeway and was soon lost in the steady stream of traffic heading toward downtown while Nina sat on the feeder lane, stuck behind two 18-wheelers.

Dustin had been so close. So close! She’d actually held him in her arms!

Nina swallowed a sob. Her baby was alive! He’d appeared healthy and unharmed, and…dear God, she’d held him in her arms.

“Sergeant Farrell.”

Nina gulped air, trying to calm her racing heart. “It’s Nina. You won’t believe what just happened.”

“Nina.” His sigh was audible. “Haven’t we already spoken today?”

“Yes, but something wonderful has happened. A miracle.” She paused for another breath. “I saw Dustin. I saw my baby! I held him! All we have to do now is go get him. You’ll help me, won’t you? You have to—”

“Nina, slow down. What do you mean, you saw Dustin?”

“At Mirror Lake Park. I go there every day. A part of me has always hoped I’d find him, but today it happened. It really happened.” Nina gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles hurt. Soon her baby would be back in her arms. Soon Dustin would be home where he belonged. She pictured the yellow-and-white nursery, awaiting his return.

“You saw him in Mirror Lake Park.” Something in Farrell’s tone pierced the cloud of excitement surrounding Nina. She gripped the phone even tighter.

“That’s what I said. He was there with a woman, his nanny, I think, and she let me hold him. She called him John David. His last name is Baldwin, or Chambers, I’m not really sure which, but it doesn’t matter, because his real name is Dustin Fairchild. You believe me, don’t you?”

There was the briefest hesitation before Farrell said slowly, “You saw a woman in the park with a baby. What makes you think that baby was Dustin?”

“Because I also saw Karen Smith.”

“You what?”

At last she seemed to have gotten his attention. Nina let out a relieved breath. She’d gone about this all wrong. She should have told him about Karen Smith first, but her baby had been uppermost in her mind. No wonder Sergeant Farrell couldn’t make sense of her babbling.

“Let me start at the beginning,” she said.

“I think that might be a good idea.”

Nina quickly told him everything that had happened in the park, except the nanny’s accusation that Nina had refused to give the baby back to her. Nina’s actions had hardly been those of a rational woman, and she desperately needed Sergeant Farrell to believe her. More than anything, she needed him to believe her.

“I couldn’t keep up with the car,” she finished. “But I did manage to get the license-plate number.” She rattled off the number, then said, “You can trace the vehicle, right?”

Again Farrell hesitated. “Nina, are you sure about all this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I couldn’t be mistaken about something like this. My baby’s life is at stake.” Nina felt a wave of hysteria rising inside her, but with sheer force of will, pushed it back down.

“You said the woman in the BMW was blond. Karen Smith had dark hair. At least that’s what you’ve always maintained.”

“She could have dyed her hair or worn a wig. It makes sense she would have disguised herself. She was planning all along to steal my baby.”

“That part does make sense,” he conceded with a sigh. “But it’s still a little hard to swallow that you saw Karen Smith in the same park where you first met her. If she took Dustin, why would she go back there, knowing she might eventually run into you?”

“The nanny said they didn’t usually go to that park, but the baby’s mother—she called her Mrs. Baldwin—had an appointment near there. That makes sense, too, when you think about it. After all this time, Karen probably thought she was home free. It was a one-in-a-million chance that I saw her at all today.”

“You say her name is Baldwin?” Farrell seemed preoccupied, as if he were jotting notes to himself.

“Yes, and the man’s name is Chambers, but I don’t know what his relationship is to Dustin.” Was he a conspirator in her baby’s abduction? Nina shivered, remembering the man’s eyes, the menacing way he’d stared down at her. “You do believe me, don’t you? You are going to follow up on this, aren’t you?”

“I’ll check it out,” Farrell agreed noncommittally. “As soon as we find out who the car belongs to, we can decide where to go from there.”

“How long will that be?”

“I’ll run it through the computer as soon as we hang up. But look. You said it yourself. It’s a million-to-one shot that you and Karen Smith came face-to-face in that same park.”

“Meaning?”

He paused. “Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

* * *

Nina was waiting at her desk when Sergeant Farrell called back a little later. She grabbed up the phone on the first ring.

“Did you find her?”

“I ran the plate number,” Farrell said. “The car is registered to a Mrs. Vanessa Baldwin. It’s a Houston address. River Oaks,” he added, naming Houston’s most prestigious—and expensive—neighborhood.

A flood of memories washed over Nina. Garrett’s family lived in a San Antonio neighborhood very much like River Oaks. The tree-shrouded streets and ivy-covered mansions had always seemed oppressive to Nina. She hated to think of her baby in such an atmosphere.

“What else did you find out?” she asked.

“Her husband, Clayton Baldwin, is vice president at Chambers Petroleum, which is owned by her father, a man named J. D. Chambers. Any of these names ring a bell?”

Nina frowned. “No. Should they?”

“From what I could gather, the Chambers family is pretty well connected in the petroleum industry, as well as in the River Oaks social circles. Thought you might have seen their names in the paper.”

Nina took a deep breath, trying to quiet her racing heart. Something about Sergeant Farrell’s tone worried her. “So what do we do next? When can we go confront Vanessa Baldwin? When can I get my baby back?”

“It’s not quite as simple as that. We’re not talking about any Tom, Dick or Harry here. These people have clout.”

“So what are you saying?” Nina demanded. “Because they’re rich and powerful, the law can’t touch them?”

“I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying we have to proceed with caution. I’m saying you could be mistaken.”

“I’m not.” Nina could feel her anger building. Why wasn’t he listening to her? Why wasn’t he trying to help her?

Why did the rich and powerful have all the advantages?

She gripped the telephone in her fist. “I know what I saw.”

“Or is it what you think you saw? What you wanted to see? I’m looking at a picture of Vanessa Baldwin right now, and I have to tell you, Nina, she doesn’t look a thing like the sketch the artist drew of Karen Smith from your description. The hair, the mouth. Even the shape of the face. Everything is different.”

“Because she was wearing a disguise!” Nina exploded. “You’re a detective, for God’s sake. You must have seen this thing before. Look at the eyes. They’re a dead giveaway.”

After a slight hesitation, Farrell said, “Even if there is some resemblance, we still have one major problem. Why would a woman of Vanessa Baldwin’s stature risk stealing a child? She’s from a high-profile family. It would be next to impossible to pass someone else’s baby off as hers.”

Nina gritted her teeth. “I don’t know how she pulled it off, but it’s your job to find out. She has my baby, and I want to know what you’re going to do about getting him back.”

His voice was quiet when he spoke, as if her outburst hadn’t registered. “Do you read the paper, Nina? The Houston Herald?”

She frowned at the change of subject. “Sometimes. Why?”

“Did you read it today?”

She’d glanced through it that morning while having her coffee. “I scanned it.”

“There was a picture of Vanessa Baldwin in the society section this morning. You don’t remember seeing it?”

“No, I don’t,” Nina said angrily. “And what’s more, I resent all these questions. Shouldn’t you be questioning her?”

“Isn’t it possible you saw Vanessa Baldwin’s picture without even being aware of it, and that’s why you recognized her in the park? You’d just been holding her baby. You said yourself you felt some sort of connection with him. Then you see this woman, the baby’s mother, who looks familiar to you, and you think she’s Karen Smith. You want her to be Karen Smith.”

Nina’s heart thudded against her rib cage. How could he not believe her? What was she going to do?

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he explained. “You go to that park every day hoping to find your baby, hoping to see Karen Smith, even though you’ve always known in your heart the odds were next to impossible.”

“But not entirely impossible,” Nina insisted. “Because I did see her.”

“I keep coming back to the same question,” Farrell said softly. “If Karen Smith and Vanessa Baldwin are one and the same, why would she go back to that park? Why would she risk being seen?”

“Dear God,” Nina whispered. “You’re not going to do anything about this, are you?”

“Nina—”

“You’re afraid of them.” A hysterical sob rose in Nina’s throat, but she swallowed it back down. “The police won’t touch them because of who they are. People like that can do anything they damn well please, and to hell with the rest of us. Is that it? Well, I’m not afraid of them. I’ll get my baby back with or without your help.”

“Nina, listen to me,” Farrell said urgently. “You’ve got to get a grip here, or you could find yourself in a lot of trouble.”

His words echoed inside her. The man in the park had said the same thing to her. “I could be in a lot of trouble? What have I done?”

Farrell’s voice hardened with warning. “Nothing yet, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nina said. “I can take care of myself.”

“I wish I could believe that,” he muttered. “Look, I’ll do some checking, find out what I can about Vanessa Baldwin and her baby. But, Nina, this has got to be done on the q.t. I don’t want harassment charges coming down on either of our heads, you got that? You stay away from Vanessa Baldwin, and for God’s sake, whatever you do, stay away from that baby.”

Chapter Four

“Oh, Mr. Chambers, it’s you. You startled me.” The nanny stopped in the nursery doorway when she saw Grant standing over John David’s bed. She looked flustered by his presence, and not a little guilty.

She entered the room hesitantly, and Grant straightened from the crib, where he had been trying to quiet the baby. “He was crying when I came in, Mrs. Becker. No one was in here with him.”

“Oh, please call me Alice,” she said with a breathless little laugh. “I just stepped out for a minute. Has the party already started downstairs?” Her gaze checked out Grant’s tuxedo, then quickly shifted to the crib, where John David was excitedly waving his arms and legs and blowing spit bubbles at his uncle with gusto.

“Actually I came a little early to see you,” Grant told her.

Her hand flew to the neckline of her dress, where a dull red flush crept upward, giving her a feverish glow. “Oh! What about?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the incident in the park this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Her tone dropped and so did her hand. “That woman, you mean.”

“Yes, exactly.” Grant hadn’t been able to get “that woman” out of his head. Something about her had seemed eerily familiar to him, and yet he was sure she’d been telling the truth when she said they’d never met. And when she’d assured him she meant John David no harm.

So why couldn’t he forget her?

She was hardly the sort of woman who would capture a man’s imagination. Her waiflike appearance was not the studied look of a fashion model, but rather that of a woman who had fallen on hard times. Her face had been too narrow to be striking, her features too nondescript to be memorable, and yet there had been something very unsettling about her, a sadness and desperation in her eyes that haunted Grant much like those of the begging children he’d seen in Third World countries. He wanted to put her out of his mind, and yet he couldn’t. Because like those starving children, the woman in the park had possessed something very rare. A quiet dignity and purity of soul that no amount of money could ever buy.

Grant found himself wondering what had made those eyes seem far too old and experienced for her face.

The nanny shuddered delicately. “I don’t mind telling you, she just about scared me to death. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

Grant shrugged. “I don’t think she meant the baby any harm. At any rate, I doubt we’ll ever see her again, so the whole episode is best forgotten. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Did you mention any of this to my sister?”

The woman hesitated, calculating, Grant suspected, the answer he wanted to hear. There was something about Alice Becker that didn’t elicit his trust. He wondered just how thoroughly Vanessa and Clayton had checked out her references.

“I haven’t mentioned it to Mrs. Baldwin yet,” she finally admitted. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“Good,” Grant said. “Because I don’t want you to tell her at all.”

The woman’s narrow brows rose in surprise. “Why not?”

“You know about my sister’s condition.” It was a statement, not a question. His father had always insisted that anyone who came to work in the Chambers household be informed of Vanessa’s heart problem so that if an emergency ever arose, the staff would know instantly how to handle it. Grant doubted that policy had changed since his sister had moved into her own home. J. D. Chambers wouldn’t allow it. His daughter had to be protected, at all costs.

“There’s no use upsetting my sister needlessly,” he explained.

“But somehow I don’t feel right keeping this from her.” She slanted Grant a look, which wasn’t hard to interpret. If Vanessa were to ever find out about the woman in the park, Alice Becker didn’t want to be held accountable.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take full responsibility.” Bending over the crib once more, Grant let his nephew capture one finger in his tiny fist for a long moment, then straightened. “Good night, Mrs. Becker.”

The woman started to say something, perhaps to ask him again to call her Alice, but then she seemed to change her mind. She nodded and murmured, “Good night, Mr. Chambers,” as her gaze took his measure one last time before he turned and strode from the room.

* * *

Nina sat in the back of the taxi and stared out the window, but the passing scenery was nothing more than a blur. How could she focus on her surroundings when her thoughts were so chaotic?

Was she doing the right thing?

What if she got caught?

Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window, she marveled at the changes in her appearance. She’d spent hours that afternoon at an exclusive uptown salon, being made over for tonight. The bill, along with the price of a new gown, had been staggering, but Nina knew the extravagance had been worthwhile.

Gone was the long, mousy blond hair, the pale complexion, the dull, pain-filled eyes. Her hair, cut short in a chic new style, shimmered with golden highlights, her complexion glowed with soft color and her green eyes sparkled with excitement. Nina hardly even recognized herself, and she told herself no one else would, either.

Resting her head against the back of the seat, she let her mind drift over the rest of the afternoon’s events, searching—she suspected—for affirmation that she was doing the right thing. That she had covered all her bases.

After speaking with Sergeant Farrell for the second time, she’d fished the morning newspaper out of the trash and turned to the society section. Vanessa Baldwin’s likeness had smiled up at her, and Nina’s heart had plunged in disappointment. Either the picture was deceptive or she’d been mistaken in the park. Vanessa Baldwin looked nothing like Karen Smith.

Could Sergeant Farrell be right? Had Nina glimpsed something in Vanessa Baldwin’s eyes only because she so desperately wanted to?

The accompanying article reported that Vanessa Baldwin was hosting a formal reception that night in her River Oaks home in honor of her brother, Grant Chambers, who had just returned from Venezuela. After reading the article, Nina had come up with a dangerous plan. For her own peace of mind, she had to get a closer look at Vanessa Baldwin. She had to be sure.

And if she was honest with herself, she had to admit she wanted to see the baby again, too, although she knew that would be the riskiest part of her plan.

Oh, but to hold that child in her arms again…to savor his sweetness…

Nina drew a long, shaky breath. Above all else, she had to remain rational. If Vanessa Baldwin wasn’t Karen Smith, then her baby wasn’t Dustin, and Nina would have no right to see him, let alone to hold him. She could not afford to lose sight of that fact.

The taxi pulled through the gates of the Baldwin estate and slowly wound its way around the semicircular driveway to stop in front of the Mediterranean-style mansion, blazing with lights. Nina glanced at the stucco facade and the wrought-iron balconies as she stepped out into the cool October air.

Another car had pulled up behind hers, and two couples got out. Nina fell into step behind them, forcing herself to strike up a casual conversation with one of the women as they mounted the stairs and walked through massive oak doors into the grand foyer.

* * *

Grant saw her immediately. He’d been talking with his father and several business associates about the Venezuelan project, but the moment she walked into the room, everyone else faded into the background.

She wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense of the word, but there was something about her, an elegance and quiet sophistication that made him think she would be an interesting woman to know.

The simple black gown she wore left her arms and shoulders bare, and revealed a body beneath the silky fabric that was more slender than Grant would ordinarily have found attractive. But rather than making her seem frail, her petite stature was surprisingly sensual. Womanly.

Drifting away from the people she’d come in with, she accepted a glass of champagne from one of the hovering waiters, then slipped unobtrusively into a corner, her gaze raking the crowded room. Grant watched her over the rim of his own glass. Had they met before? He didn’t think so, and yet there was something intriguingly familiar about her. He excused himself and crossed the room toward her.

As he approached, Grant saw something flit across her features. Recognition? If he didn’t know better, he would have almost sworn it was fear.

“I know this is going to sound like the worst kind of come-on,” he said, “but have we met before?”

Her gaze flitted upward to his. She licked her lips nervously. “No. I’m sure we haven’t.”

“You look…not exactly familiar, but—” He paused, studying her features. “There’s something about you.”

“I…guess I just have one of those faces.”

That wasn’t it, but Grant didn’t think it wise to pursue the topic any further. She looked a little skittish, as if she might turn and bolt at any moment. And he sure as hell didn’t want that.

“I’m Grant Chambers.” He extended his hand, and she accepted it only briefly before pulling her fingers from his grasp. When she made no move to introduce herself, he said, “And you are…?”

A look of panic flashed across her features. He couldn’t imagine why she seemed so nervous in his presence. Was he that intimidating? He’d never thought so before.

“I’m—” She broke off, her gaze darting from his. He saw her take a deep breath, and then she said softly, “Actually I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You mean you crashed my sister’s party?” When she nodded, he laughed. That explained her nervousness. She probably thought he’d have her tossed out, but that was the furthest thing from Grant’s mind.

He stared down at her, his interest piqued. A pulse beat in her throat, and he thought impulsively how exciting it would be to press his lips against the spot, to feel her soft, warm skin throbbing beneath his mouth.

Leaning toward her, he said, “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Then…you don’t mind my being here?”

“Hardly.” Their gazes met once again before she quickly glanced away. Grant used the moment to study her as she turned to watch the crowd. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so intrigued by a woman. “So, tell me. Any reason for crashing this particular party?”

She lifted her shoulders, a slight movement that brought Grant’s gaze downward, to the creamy skin of her throat and the alluring shadow of cleavage at her neckline. He felt something tighten inside him.

“I came with my cousin.” She nodded vaguely toward the center of the room.

Grant followed her gaze and said, “You mean Cynthia? I didn’t know she had a cousin.”

The woman bit her lip. “We’re not that close. I don’t see her very often.”

“You don’t live in Houston then?”

“I’m from…San Antonio.”

“Really? I’m pretty familiar with the city. Where do you live?”

She hesitated again, as if debating whether she wanted him to know that much about her. Then she shrugged and named a neighborhood Grant knew very well. He lifted his brows in surprise. “Small world. I have a good friend who lives in Alamo Heights. We were roommates at UT. His name is Trent Fairchild. You don’t, by chance, know him, do you?”

Something flashed across her features, setting off a warning inside Grant. Too late, he saw the champagne glass slip from her fingers and shatter against the marble floor at their feet.

Clasping a hand to her heart, she stared at the broken flute in horror. “Oh, my God.”

Her face had grown so pale, Grant took her arm to steady her. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

“No. No, it wasn’t that. I-it just…slipped from my fingers. I’m sorry,” she stammered, as if she couldn’t quite believe what had happened. “I’m usually not that clumsy.”

“No problem. It’s just a broken glass. Happens all the time.” He motioned to one of the waiters, who hurried over to clean up the mess. Grant used the opportunity to pull her even farther away from the crowd.

She still looked shaken, and he wondered why such a trivial accident had caused her such concern. “Believe me, that glass will never be missed.”

Her gaze swept the elegant room, and a brief shadow crossed over her features. “I’m sure it won’t. But I am sorry.”

“Accidents happen. So long as it wasn’t the company that made you so nervous.”

“Wh-what?”

Her green gaze seemed so guileless, Grant wondered if she could really be so innocent not to recognize his own clumsy attempts at flirtation. Was he that out of practice?

Or maybe she just wasn’t interested. Maybe it was time to move on. There were a lot of important people at the gathering, and Grant knew he should be working the crowd—as his brother-in-law was undoubtedly doing. As his father would expect both of them to do. But try as he might, Grant couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm for it at the moment.

He didn’t mind talking about the Venezuelan project, which had turned out to be a very profitable venture, but a conversation about his return to the States always led to the inevitable speculation about his exile. And Grant didn’t like thinking about the past. He didn’t like remembering how closely he’d come to losing everything, and all because of a woman.

So why wasn’t he being more cautious now? Why was he hell-bent on pursuing this woman when she so obviously didn’t want to be pursued?

“Perhaps I should leave,” she said, as if reading his mind.

Grant frowned. “Because of a broken glass?” When she shrugged helplessly, he said, “Look, if you feel that badly about it, there’s only one thing you can do.”

Her glance turned wary. “What?”

“Dance with me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, I mean, I’m really not much of a dancer,” she said in a rush.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He took her hand and felt it tremble in his. For some reason, it made her seem vulnerable and sweet. Qualities he’d always vastly underrated, he decided.

“But—”

“No ‘but’s,” he insisted. “I have a feeling that at midnight you’re going to disappear, and I’ll never see you again. At least let me have one dance to remember you by.”

IN HER WILDEST DREAMS, Nina could not have imagined such a strange scenario. When she’d seen Grant Chambers walking across the room toward her, she’d been sure he’d recognized her from the park and was coming to throw her out. Or maybe even have her arrested.

But then she’d seen the admiration in his gray eyes, and realized in a rush of relief that he had no idea who she was. Her makeover had worked, and she’d tried her best not to say or do anything to give herself away. But then he mentioned Trent Fairchild, and her reaction was instinctive. She thought for a moment she might actually pass out.

How ironic that she had come here searching for the truth about her baby only to end up in the arms of a man who was a friend of her worst enemy. Trent Fairchild had sworn he would find a way to make Nina pay for Garrett’s death, and she couldn’t help wondering again if he was somehow connected to Dustin’s disappearance. Sergeant Farrell had cleared him months ago, but Nina had never been quite as certain.

“You’re trembling.” Grant’s deep voice vibrated against her ear. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” She tried to hold herself away from his body, but Grant Chambers would have none of that. He was a man used to getting his own way, and when he pulled her more tightly into his arms, there was little she could do to resist.

“Better?”

No! she wanted to scream, but all she could do was nod and let herself be drawn against him. He was very tall, towering over her in a way that made her feel a little too vulnerable, and he was darkly handsome in a way that would make most women’s knees go weak. But Nina was immune to rich and powerful men. She didn’t trust them. It had been her experience they almost always had a hidden agenda.

The only male she had any interest in at the moment was her son, and she would do whatever she had to in order to find him, even if it meant dancing with Grant Chambers. Even if it meant pretending an interest she didn’t feel. For all Nina knew, her baby could be upstairs at this very moment, and Grant just might be the one person who could lead her to him.

“You lied to me, didn’t you?”

His deep voice was like a caress against her ear. Nina felt her mouth go dry. “What do you mean?”

“You said you weren’t much of a dancer. I knew that couldn’t be true.”

She laughed softly, a breathless release of nerves. “Just because I haven’t stepped on your toes yet doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“I’m not worried.” He smiled down at her again, and Nina felt her breath catch in her throat. He really was a very attractive man. His gray eyes, hooded and sensual, were fringed with thick lashes and shadowed with just enough mystery to make a woman wonder where he’d been and what he’d seen. What he’d done and whom he had done it with.

He didn’t look anything like his sister. Vanessa was blond and fair, and catching a glimpse of her in the crowd, Nina couldn’t help wondering again if she’d made a tragic mistake. Could a black wig, glasses and the right makeup change a person’s appearance so dramatically?

Just look at me, Nina thought. Grant Chambers had stared accusingly into her eyes only a few hours ago, and now here they were dancing.

“What are you so deep in thought about?” he asked her.

“I…was just thinking about your sister.”

“Vanessa? What about her?”

“I heard she’d recently had a baby, but she looks so thin. I was wondering how she got her figure back so quickly.”

“I wasn’t around when she had the baby, but I imagine Vanessa did whatever was necessary. She’s very much a perfectionist.”

Something in his tone made Nina glance up at him. Did he suspect a dark side to his sister, as well? “She’s very beautiful,” Nina murmured. “Does the baby look like her?”

Grant considered the question for a moment. “I’ve never really given it much thought. Vanessa and Clayton are both fair, and what little hair John David has is dark. Come to think of it, I guess he looks a little more like me than he does either one of them.” The notion seemed to please him.

“You surprise me,” Nina tried to say lightly. “You don’t strike me as the baby type.”

He laughed. “I guess I surprise myself. I’ve never been around babies much. But there’s something special about John David. It’s hard to explain. He’s just so—I don’t know—innocent, I guess. He makes you want to protect him.” His smile seemed self-deprecating. “Not exactly a manly thing to say, is it?”

On the contrary. Nina had a sudden vision of the way Grant had looked that afternoon when he’d taken the baby from her arms. His menacing presence had terrified her, and she’d had no doubt that he would do whatever necessary to protect the child. There’d been no question of his masculinity then or now. He was not only a man used to getting what he wanted, but was also a man who would fiercely guard what he thought was his.

Nina shivered again, and Grant’s arms tightened around her. “You’re freezing,” he said. “Let me go get your coat. What does it look like?”

Her mind raced. If she remained in Grant Chambers’s presence for much longer, she’d surely give herself away. She had to get away from him. She had to find a way to get upstairs and locate the nursery.

“It’s a very common style,” she said. “You’d better let me go get it.”

She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held her for an instant longer. His gaze deepened, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he found her attractive. And that he had every intention of acting on that attraction. Nerves fluttered along Nina’s backbone.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” he demanded softly.

She hesitated, striving for poise. Then she nodded and walked away.

* * *

Slowly Nina climbed the curving staircase, her heart pounding against her chest. This is it, a little voice whispered inside her. The moment of truth.

Soon she would find the baby they called John David and stare down into his little face. Soon she would know whether or not he was hers, because surely her instincts would tell her.

Pausing on the wide balcony, she glanced down at the throng below her, her gaze finding and resting on Vanessa Baldwin. The woman hadn’t given her a second glance all evening. She obviously had no idea who Nina really was or why she was there. Vanessa had no idea of the possible threat that lurked in her midst.

How easy would it be, Nina wondered daringly, to grab the baby and run? To simply disappear with him rather than letting the law take its course?

She had a little money put away. Though she’d received nothing from Garrett’s massive trust fund, she’d been the beneficiary of a life-insurance policy he’d left behind. She could use that money now to go somewhere far away and make a new life for herself and her son. Far away from the Fairchilds and the Baldwins and the Chamberses.

But seeing Vanessa Baldwin tonight had only confused Nina more. Vanessa was so beautiful and elegant, so sure of herself. Karen Smith had been the total opposite, demure and shy and so painfully insecure. Had it all been an act, an elaborate charade to win Nina’s confidence and then steal her baby?

Had Trent Fairchild played a part in the tragedy?

Had Grant?

Almost inadvertently, her gaze came to rest on Grant Chambers. He was talking to a woman in a red-beaded dress, and as Nina stood watching, she saw the woman place her hand on his arm, as if staking her claim. Uneasiness stirred inside Nina. A memory of something she’d read in the paper that afternoon came back to her. There’d been a vague reference to a scandal involving Grant four years ago before he’d moved to Venezuela. Though Nina hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, she wondered now what had happened to him. Why he’d felt compelled to leave the country back then.

If he’d been in Venezuela for the past four years as he’d told her when they were dancing—then he hadn’t been here when Nina’s baby had been born. He hadn’t been anywhere near Galveston when Dustin had been stolen.

Why, all of a sudden, did she so desperately want to believe that? Nina wondered. Why did it matter if Grant was guilty or innocent so long as she found her baby?

As if sensing her scrutiny, he lifted his head suddenly and found her on the landing. Even from a distance, Nina could feel the intensity of his gaze, the power of his presence, and she shivered.

When he found out who she was, why she had come here, Grant Chambers would become her enemy. The notion left Nina oddly shaken, and only by sheer force of will was she able to tear her gaze from his and turn away.

* * *

There were several doors that opened from the upstairs hallway, and Nina had no idea which one was the nursery or if the baby’s room was even on this floor. She started checking the rooms one by one, knowing she had only a few moments before Grant would start to wonder what was taking her so long to find her coat and come looking for her.

Most of the rooms on the second floor were bedrooms, the largest of which was obviously the master suite. Nina paused in the hallway for a moment, glancing over her shoulder toward the stairway and the balcony that overlooked the large area below. Satisfied that no one was about, she let herself into Vanessa Baldwin’s sitting room.

And just what do you expect to find? Nina asked herself as she stood leaning against the door, her gaze scanning the room. A dark wig? Black-rimmed glasses?

If Vanessa Baldwin really was Karen Smith, she would have destroyed her disguise a long time ago. Searching her suite would be an exercise in futility, but Nina couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not yet.

The sitting room was elegantly decorated in shades of cream, gold and dark green. Though it had been beautifully done, Nina found the room totally lacking in personality. There was nothing out of place, nothing that didn’t match, nothing whatsoever that gave away anything of the personality of the woman who occupied these quarters.

As Nina turned to leave, a photograph on an antique cherry wood table caught her eye. She crossed the room and picked up the gold frame, her heart hammering inside her as she stared down at the image.

Here’s your proof, a little voice taunted her. This is what you came for.

The woman in the picture was Vanessa Baldwin. A very beautiful and very pregnant Vanessa Baldwin. Standing in front of a building with white columns, she looked to be about seven or eight months along.

Nina’s hands trembled as she stared down at the photograph. Did this confirm her doubts then? Did this prove Vanessa Baldwin wasn’t Karen Smith?

Could Nina have wanted to find Karen so badly that she’d conjured her up in the park that afternoon? Had she so desperately wanted to believe the baby she’d held in her arms was Dustin that she’d managed to convince herself he was?

Sergeant Farrell had warned her. The odds were against her, the coincidences too great. But she’d refused to believe him.

Nina had never felt so near an emotional edge as she did at that moment. Not when Garrett had died and not even when Dustin had disappeared. She’d somehow managed to hold herself together in the face of those tragedies because she’d always been a survivor. She’d had to be.

But now.

Now Nina had to question her own sanity. She could no longer trust her own judgment.

Dear God, what if she had taken that baby? What if she had put someone else through the same hell she’d gone through when Dustin disappeared?

Nina closed her eyes as the strange room swayed around her. She had to get out of there before she said or did something that would get her carted off to jail or to an insane asylum or…worse.

Taking a steadying breath, she hurried across the room and opened the door, but just as she started to step into the hallway, she heard another door open. Stepping back into the room, Nina left the door slightly ajar so that she could see down the hallway. What if it was Vanessa? she thought, frantically casting about for a hiding place.

But then she saw someone come out of a room three or four doors down, and Nina smothered a gasp. She recognized the woman from the park, John David’s nanny.

As Nina watched her, the woman took a flask from the pocket of her uniform and stared down at it for a moment. Then, lifting it to her lips, she took a long swallow and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Slipping the flask back into her pocket, she turned and headed down the hallway, away from what Nina thought might be the nursery.

Once the woman was out of sight, Nina left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Hurrying down the hallway, she was almost past the nursery door when she heard sounds of distress coming from within.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.