Corporate Daddy Page 22

  Logan listened to the spiel, his gaze carefully averted, then suddenly he slid his papers back into his briefcase and snapped it shut. Abruptly, he turned his head and skewered Emily with his gaze. “Was this your idea? Kick him while he’s down? Hit him where it hurts?”

  She shook her head, appalled that he could think that. “No.”

  He jerked his gaze back to her sputtering employer. “Go to hell,” he said flatly, and he headed for the door. “I’ll get the money somewhere else.”

  Shocked, Mr. Warwick leaped to his feet. “Mr. Fortune, surely we can talk about this!”

  Logan spun around and jabbed a finger at Emily. “With her in the room? I don’t think so!”

  “I’ll go,” Emily said quietly, getting to her feet. She kept her face straight only by dint of will.

  “Yeah, you do that!” Logan snapped. “You’re good at going. You’ve had recent practice.”

  Mr. Warwick, to his credit, stepped up to take the blame. “It’s my fault, Fortune. She told me you wouldn’t appreciate her being here.”

  Logan didn’t even look at him. He stared straight at Emily and ordered, “Get out of here, all of you.” Despite the fact that it wasn’t his conference room and he wasn’t the boss here, the bank personnel obeyed, all except Emily, who wasn’t stupid enough to think he wanted to be alone in this big room. “You, too, Hal,” Logan growled when the assistant hesitated. Hal walked out swiftly, closing the door behind him.

  Emily folded her arms and braced her shoulders against the wall. Part of her rejoiced at the very idea of being alone with him again; part of her girded for war. Logan brought his hands to his waist and demanded, “Was that hike in interest rate your idea?”

  “No.”

  “But did you advise him to go for it?”

  “No.”

  He snorted as if he didn’t believe her, but then he said, “What did you advise him about it?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. Lifting her chin she said, “I don’t think it would be ethical to discuss that with you.”

  He jumped all over that as if it were just the opening for which he’d been waiting. “Oh, and you’re good at ethics, aren’t you? Business ethics! Personal ethics, now that’s something else again.”

  Anger flared in her. “I resent that!”

  “You resent it? How do you think I feel?” She winced because he was shouting. He moderated his voice, but what it lacked in volume it made up for in venom. “Just how ethical is it to sleep with someone for weeks on end, letting him think you love him, and then just walk away without a backward glance?”

  She gasped. “I never said—”

  “So you sleep with just anybody who sparks the urge?”

  “You know I don’t!”

  “Maybe you never said it,” he went on scathingly, “but you never said you didn’t love me, either.”

  That she couldn’t argue with, and it irritated her. “I suppose you never let another woman think—never even said it—to anyone but me!”

  He leaned forward, placing his big hands flat on the shiny tabletop. “That’s right,” he said flatly. “Only you.” He straightened again abruptly. “And what did it get me? I tried to give you time, and you left us without so much as word of warning.”

  She was trying to decipher the significance of those two surprising words, Only you. Shaking her head to clear it, she managed to say, “I—I thought a clean break was best.”

  “For you maybe,” he retorted. “It certainly wasn’t best for me or my daughter.”

  “Stop behaving like I’ve abandoned Amanda Sue,” she said angrily. “I was there to see her just yesterday.”

  “Yes, but you weren’t there the other night when she cried for you, were you? When she begged to call you on the telephone? You aren’t there when she pleads for Emily to come home!”

  Home. The very word evoked memories so sweet that tears filled her eyes. Home. Oh, if only…. She pushed away the wish, telling herself that she mustn’t lose her way now. Closing her eyes, she searched for words and found them.

  “I’ll always be here for Amanda Sue,” she managed softly. “She can call me anytime. She—”

  “But you won’t be coming home,” he said bitterly. “And that’s the problem.”

  Exasperated, Emily told him what she’d been telling herself so sensibly. “Logan, that’s your home, not mine. It was never my home, and I never meant it to be. You know I refused to give up my apartment from the very beginning.”

  “Do you think Amanda Sue understands that?” he demanded hotly.

  Of course she didn’t, and the unfairness of it all hit Emily with dark, heavy sadness. And she blamed him. If he hadn’t been so damned irresistible, if he hadn’t pursued her, wanted her! Deep down, she knew that she was as much to blame, but in that moment she wanted to believe that he had caused all this anger and pain and loss on his own. She had tried to be sensible! She had tried to be good! He just hadn’t let her, and he knew it.

  “This isn’t about Amanda Sue,” she said flatly, strongly. “This is about you! You’re the one who’s supposed to walk out, aren’t you? And you’re mad because I beat you to it! Your women don’t walk out on you, do they, Logan? Oh, no. They just watch while you walk away. Well, how does it feel, Mr. Fortune? This time you’re the one watching—and I am walking away!”

  With that she turned sharply and strode out of the room, slinging the door wide as she reached it. Ignoring the shocked, eager faces gathered in the hallway, she stalked past them, not even slowing until she reached her own office. There, finally, she slammed the door, twice, much to the chagrin of her personal secretary. Then she plopped down in her big executive chair, turned her face to the window and cried, the tears rolling silently down her cheeks.

  At some point, she found that the tears had stopped and reflection had returned. Words, thoughts replayed in her head, his words, his thoughts.

  You let me think you loved me. But you won’t be coming home. I told you that I love you. And what did it get me? You won’t be coming home. Home. I’ve loved only you…. Only you.

  Was it possible? Did he love her? Had she walked out on her only hope of permanence, happiness? She shook her head. It couldn’t be. She was not the sort of woman Logan Fortune could love. Was she?

  Only you.

  He knew her so well, better than she’d realized. He knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t share her body with a man whom she didn’t love. He even knew that she hadn’t told him how she felt as a sort of protection.

  I tried to give you time.

  But time couldn’t change the facts. He always left. She’d watched him. During the past two years he’d wafted in and out of the lives and beds of any number of women, like a leaf flitting from branch to branch on its way to the ground.

  But every leaf eventually did reach the ground, didn’t it? Yes, of course, but that didn’t mean it stayed there. Unless…something, someone, kept it there. She shook her head. He didn’t love her, not really. He only thought he did because of the situation. He would have left her, eventually, just as soon as the situation changed—except suddenly she wasn’t quite sure how that change might have occurred. Amanda Sue was here to stay, certainly. Another child might possibly be added to the equation, but that only enhanced the situation, didn’t it? Logan had talked about a bigger house, someplace with a backyard and real privacy. None of that was reason for her to go. Another woman, maybe?

  Certainly. Now that she wasn’t there.

  Emily put her hands to her head, her mind reeling. Surely she hadn’t tossed her one chance at real love into the trash can out of simple fear. Had she? For the first time she doubted the wisdom of the course she’d set herself. For the first time, she wondered if she wasn’t twice the fool.

  Wordlessly, Logan tossed the keys to Hal and walked around the front end of the car to the passenger side. Had he ever felt so drained, so empty?

  “Want to talk about it?” Hal asked, unlock
ing the car.

  “No.” Logan yanked the door open and plopped down inside. His tone left no room for argument, not that Hal was likely to argue. It was one of the things he liked best about Hal; the boy knew when to put his two cents worth in and when to keep his mouth shut, just like…

  Emily. He closed his eyes, hands going to his temples. His head hurt. His heart hurt. Emily.

  How does it feel, watching me walk away?

  He wanted to tell her that it felt like hell. He wanted to beg her to come back, to love him. He wanted to say that he’d been punished enough, that he’d reaped all the agony he’d inadvertently sowed, believing that honesty was enough to justify all the women he’d disappointed. He wanted to weep, and only the quiet presence of Hal beside him kept him from it, that and one other thing.

  She still had never said that she didn’t love him, and somewhere, deep inside, he had to believe that she did. Without that, he just couldn’t rationalize the way she’d come to his bed. He couldn’t believe that she would have sex with a man she didn’t love. It was important to him to believe that, though it never had been before. It was important because it was Emily. But if she loved him, why had she left him?

  Your women don’t walk out on you, do they, Logan? Oh, no, they just watch while you walk away. You’re just mad because I beat you to it…. I beat you to it.

  Suddenly he understood that she believed he would have left her. Somehow he hadn’t convinced her that he loved her. For the first time Logan Fortune found himself at a loss with a woman. How could he counter his reputation? How could he possibly make her see how much he had changed? If Emily couldn’t see, no one could! And yet, his family was constantly remarking about it. Why was it that Emily couldn’t see it? And was there anything at all that he could do about it?

  “I tried to give you time,” he whispered, wondering if he might not have been wiser to rush her to the altar. If she hadn’t given in and allowed him to make love to her, might he have married her to accomplish it? He rather thought that he might have, and he was frankly surprised by the notion. But then, why hadn’t he just married her and been done with it? Why had he waited? Was it her fear or his that had ruined it all?

  He didn’t know anymore, and he didn’t care. He only knew, with heartbreaking certainty, that he wanted Emily. Only Emily.

  Fifteen

  “Ms. Emily?”

  Even if she hadn’t recognized Carol’s voice, the screams in the background would have told her who was calling. Emily gripped the telephone receiver, signaling to her secretary that she could leave the room. Something had happened to Amanda Sue. Emily felt it in the pit of her stomach.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re at Dr. Costas’s office right now. Amanda’s been ill, and Mr. Logan is trapped in Chicago by bad weather. He put you down as the person to contact in his absence, so we need you to meet us at the hospital just as soon as—”

  “Oh, my God!” Emily bent forward, bracing her free hand on the desktop. Amanda Sue was ill! Please God, don’t let it be serious. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “We’re not sure, but her fever’s dangerously high, and she’s not responding to the typical treatments, so the doctor thinks it would be best to put her in the hospital for tests and such. But we need you to sign her in. And I really think Amanda Sue needs you there.”

  “Which hospital?”

  “Mercy’s Gate.”

  “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Carol sounded relieved and exhausted.

  Emily wondered how long Amanda Sue had been ill and why someone hadn’t called her before, but those questions could wait. The priority now was getting to the hospital. She grabbed her handbag from the bottom drawer of her desk and snagged her coat from the coat tree in the corner on her way to the door. She issued brief instructions to her secretary and sprinted to the parking lot. In less than eight minutes she was running across the street against the light to the small but select private hospital near Logan’s home.

  A quick survey of the lobby and a pointed question at the admitting desk revealed that Carol and Amanda Sue had not yet arrived. Dr. Costas had called with instructions, but the papers were not yet ready for a signature, so Emily raced back outside to await the baby’s arrival. Three or four minutes of frantic pacing later, she spied Carol getting out of a cab with Amanda Sue and her safety seat. She met them on the edge of the sidewalk, taking Amanda Sue and freeing Carol to deal with the safety seat and diaper bag.

  When Amanda Sue laid her head on Emily’s shoulder, Emily was shocked by the heat radiating through her heavy clothing and the blanket in which she was wrapped against the chill weather. “They should be ready for us by now,” she told Carol, turning toward the hospital entrance again. Unfortunately, she underestimated the speed at which even the best hospitals seemed to operate. Almost an hour passed before they had Amanda Sue settled into a crib in a private room. Sick and cranky, she didn’t want Emily out of her sight, not for tests, not for treatment.

  Watching the lab tech draw blood was pure torture for Emily, especially as Amanda Sue fought him every step of the way. Getting the child to lie still long enough for a chest X ray was a feat of extraordinary patience and skill—and darn hard work. They were still trying to get a urine sample and hoping to avoid a catheter in the process. Amanda Sue had some experience, thanks to Carol, at using the potty, but she was balking at using the bedpan. Thinking that Carol might be able to persuade her, Emily glanced in the nanny’s direction, only to find the poor woman literally asleep on her feet where she stood against the wall, arms folded, eyes closed, head bowed. Emily realized then that she’d probably been awake all night long with a sick, crying child. Leaving Amanda Sue momentarily to the care of the nurse, Emily approached Carol and called her name softly.

  Carol’s eyes popped open instantly. “Sorry. Long night.”

  “I figured that much. How long has she been ill, anyway?”

  “She started being fussy a couple days ago. I put it down to her dad having to go out of town. When she started running a fever, though, I took her to the doctor. Apparently she’s teething and that promoted an ear infection, so the doctor prescribed an antibiotic, but Amanda Sue has gotten steadily worse, so I don’t know what to think now.”

  “And Logan’s in Chicago?”

  Carol nodded. “He was only supposed to be gone overnight, but the weather turned nasty and the airport canceled flights.”

  “O’Hare’s infamous for delaying flights,” Emily commented. “Does he know that Amanda Sue’s in the hospital?”

  “We called him from the doctor’s office. He’s been camped out at the airport for a day and a half now, but he’s got his cell phone.”

  “Right. Well, I’m sure he’ll be here just as soon as he can.”

  Carol nodded. “Yes, he’s devoted to that little girl.” She fixed Emily with a level gaze. “He sure does miss you, though. They both do.”

  Emily bit her lip. “I’ve missed them, too,” she said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere as long as Amanda Sue needs me, so why don’t you go back to the town house and get some sleep? This is the last of the tests for the time being, so the worst is probably behind us. If anything comes up, I’ll call.”

  Carol smiled wisely. “I don’t suppose it will serve any purpose for both of us to be worn-out. I’ll telephone for a cab.”

  Emily nodded and returned to the crib where the nurse was still trying to cajole a confused and irritable Amanda Sue into using a bedpan. Her optimism about the worst of the day being behind them, however, was misplaced. Amanda Sue simply could not use the bedpan, and even the use of a catheter did not provide enough urine for the necessary tests. When it became obvious that the baby’s temperature was not going down and was probably causing dehydration that prevented urination, the doctor ordered an ice bath. They didn’t use actual ice, but the cool water must have felt like ice against Amanda Sue’s hot skin. She certainly screamed
as if she were being scalded, and the only way Emily knew to help was to strip off and get into the cold spray bath with her.

  Emily was blue by the time Amanda Sue’s fever was sufficiently lowered. Together they dried off and dressed. Emily could only hope that the experience had not turned their little water baby into a complete landlubber. An injection of medication helped to further lower Amanda Sue’s temperature. After rocking with Emily and Sugar Bear in a chair provided by the hospital, Amanda Sue was hungry and readily drank everything they brought to her from juice to broth. She was also calmer and happier, but when they had to reinsert the catheter to obtain the urine sample, the poor little dear let them know in no uncertain terms that she considered it the height of insult and aggravation.

  All in all, by the time the doctor put in an appearance early in the evening, both Amanda Sue and Emily were exhausted. The news, however, was fair.

  “Now, all the test results aren’t in,” Dr. Costas warned. “But we’ve eliminated the big concerns. She shows no signs of pneumonia or contagion. In fact, what we’ve found so far leads me to believe that Amanda Sue has had a reaction to the antibiotic I prescribed for her a few days ago to combat this ongoing infection.”

  “Shouldn’t she have a rash, then?” Emily asked uncertainly.

  “Not necessarily, and frankly I’m more concerned about other implications of such sensitivity. She still has an ear infection, and we have to find some way to combat that. Ideally, that would be another antibiotic, one she can tolerate. Anyway, I’ll know more in the morning. In the meantime, I’ve prescribed ear drops, decongestant, analgesics and fluids, but I don’t want her using a straw or a nipple, no sucking to clog the ear canals further. Otherwise, try to get some rest, both of you.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Costas,” Emily said, and the diminutive physician swept out of the room on a smile and a wave.