Father and Child Reunion. Christine FlynnЧитать онлайн книгу.
That didn’t surprise Eve. What did, was that she could still remember how hurt she’d been. Focusing on the bookshelf, she told herself she’d had no business feeling that way. She had left him. He’d had every right to move on to someone else. But the fact that Rio hadn’t denied the truth to what his mother had said somehow made the hurt seem fresh all over again.
That made no sense at all, she told herself, and concentrated on what had been truly important about her conversation with Rio’s mother, for it had revealed an obstacle she hadn’t even realized existed.
“I didn’t think she had,” she quietly concluded. “But what your mother said made it pretty obvious she wouldn’t take kindly to the idea of a half-breed for a granddaughter. It seemed to me that if you understood the obligations she mentioned, you might not have been too thrilled, either.”
Eve hugged herself tighter. “I remember picking up Molly after I’d hung up the phone and trying to pretend I’d never seen her before. I knew she was darker than I was, but to me, she was just my precious baby and everything about her was beautiful. I hadn’t thought about the color of her eyes or her hair or her skin. All that had mattered was that she had ten fingers and ten toes and she was healthy.”
She’d been blind to so much, she thought, aware of his shadow covering her. Too much. “Your mother made me realize that you probably wouldn’t have seen her the way I did, and that you had responsibilities to what she’d called ‘your people.’ That was when I realized how little I truly knew about you.”
He’d come up behind her. She could feel him. But she wasn’t prepared for the feel of his hand on her shoulder, or the heat in his eyes when he turned her to face him.
“My mother was out of line saying what she did. And she had no business keeping your call from me. But you never should have left to begin with. You knew all that mattered.” Defense marked his tone. Bridled anger etched his features. “My heritage is important to me. So is my family. But I decided a long time ago that neither the tribe nor my family was going to dictate my life.”
“You never told me that. You rarely talked about your family, and you never mentioned your heritage at all. How was I supposed to know how you felt if you never told me?”
“You knew how I felt,” he insisted. “I cared about you.” His heated glance swept her face, the source of his anger eluding her completely. “I don’t know how I could have made that any clearer.”
Nothing she said was getting through to him. Upset as she was, that was her only thought before she felt his hands clench her shoulders. His thumb swept downward, edging lightly along her collarbone, and his hard gaze dropped to her mouth.
He was close enough that she could feel the heat and tension radiating from him. Close enough that she could almost feel his body pressing against hers. But it was the motion of his thumbs that destroyed her attempt to make him understand, and left her feeling completely exposed.
He’d once had the habit of tracing her collarbone when he’d been about to kiss her. He’d be trying to make a point, or telling her about something that had happened that day, and his thumbs would do what they were doing now. Inevitably, his hands would slide up into her hair and he’d settle his mouth over hers, turning her knees weak and her blood to steam. He would kiss her hard. Or sometimes he was so gentle she’d want to cry. But, always, she never wanted him to stop.
The memory shouldn’t have tugged so deeply. The weight of his hands shouldn’t have felt so familiar. But what should have been bore scant resemblance to what was.
“I think we both need some time,” she said, not caring how unsteady she sounded. “This is…” Dangerous. Foolish. Irrational.
“Yeah,” Rio muttered, seeming to understand what she couldn’t articulate. “This isn’t good.”
He stepped back, disquiet etched in his angular features as his hands slipped away. He pushed one through his hair, backing up another step. “I think I’d better go. We’ll talk about this…about Molly,” he amended, “later.”
Eve started toward the door.
Not trusting himself around her any longer, Rio held up his hand. As jarred as he felt, he was surprised it wasn’t shaking. “I can find my way out.”
He didn’t remember what Eve said, or if she said anything at all before he walked through the brightly lit foyer, past the long entry table with its matching vases and out the front door. He wasn’t sure he recalled getting in his Durango and starting it, either—though he’d obviously done both because, within the minute, he was driving into darkness, heading nowhere in particular except away from the Stuart house.
He felt as if he’d just taken a gut punch. Only, at the moment, he wasn’t sure which was more accountable for the sensation. The white heat he’d felt rip through him at the thought of kissing her, the fact that he’d almost done something like kiss her in anger, or the realization that he had a child.
A child.
He was a father.
The night air rushing in his open window smelled of pine and dew. He sucked in a lungful of it, seeking to calm the thoughts careening through his mind. But calm wasn’t going to come easily to him. It never did. Had it been daylight, he’d have headed for his lot and exhausted himself hauling wood or hammering a few pounds of nails. But it wasn’t light, and though he would have preferred physical activity for the escape it offered, he’d have to settle for being still.
He found himself heading for his lot, anyway, seeking solace in the only place he ever found it anymore.
Two Falls Lake was fifteen minutes out of town and a million miles from civilization. There were several lakes in the area, but this one was too small and too inaccessible to be popular. At night, even Rio didn’t attempt the hike down to it, so he left his SUV in the clearing near the skeletal frame of his cabin and made his way to the outcropping of rock overlooking the still, black water.
The moon trailed a wide band of light across the glassy surface of the lake. Walls of enormous firs rose up like solemn black sentinels, dwarfing everything below them. There was nothing to be heard here but the sigh of the wind, the occasional yelp of coyotes and the inner voices a man couldn’t silence.
He shoved his fingers through his hair, too agitated to appreciate the stillness. Any other time, he could have forced himself to concentrate on the night sounds. Not now. All he could think about now was that Eve had been pregnant when she’d left years ago.
The thought that had made him wince earlier came rushing back to him. The fact that the protection they’d used had failed was a moot point. So was his mother’s interference. Indulging his anger with her would only dredge up resentments he never allowed himself to think about, anyway. There was no changing what was done. Yet, what bothered him most was that Eve hadn’t only been pregnant—she’d been seventeen and pregnant. Had he ever given any thought to her age when he’d known her?
He couldn’t have, Rio decided, or he’d have considered just how dangerous sleeping with her could be. To him, she’d just been Eve; the person who’d never questioned his goals, who’d looked up to him. The one person who had finally allowed him to believe in himself. Looking back now, he’d been light-years older than she was—even though he’d only been nineteen at the time. But, then, Stone Richardson, his detective friend, had once told him he’d probably been born old.
Rio drew his hand down his face and blew out a breath. Dear God, he thought, she’d been jailbait. On top of that, her mother had been the mayor, as close to “society” as people came in Grand Springs. His home once had been a trailer on the reservation, and he’d possessed nothing but a determination to escape the specter of his father and a fire in his belly for a dream no one wanted him to pursue. It was a miracle Olivia hadn’t had his sorry hide thrown in jail.
There were spirits to be thanked for that, he was sure. He just wasn’t sure which ones handled that sort of thing. Anyway, he was more concerned with what had