His Secret Child (10 page)

"I think I have on too much makeup." Sheila peered into the mirror over the dresser in her bedroom. "Y'all have got me looking like a painted doll!" She pulled a tissue from the decorative box on the oak dresser.

"Don't you dare!" Donna Fields warned. "I spent twenty minutes getting your makeup just right."

"You look perfect," Susan Redman assured her. "As a matter of fact, I've never seen you look better."

"Yeah, I know," Sheila told her friends. "That's the problem. I don't look like myself. Caleb will laugh himself silly when he sees me."

"When Caleb sees you, he'll drool all over himself," Donna said. "You are absolutely stunning in that dress. It was made for your long, well-proportioned body."

Sheila tugged on the just-above-the-knee hemline of her little black dress—a dress with a designer label that Donna had borrowed from a wealthy friend. The silk material clung perfectly to Sheila's statuesque frame, accenting her small waist. The neckline was quite modest, revealing nothing but her long, slender neck, whereas the back of the bodice plunged dramatically to her waist, exposing a wide expanse of skin.

"I feel naked in this thing." Sheila glanced over her shoulder into the mirror at the reflection of her bare back.

"You're chic," Susan said.

"You need one more thing to pull this look together." Donna rummaged in her purse, pulled out a satin box and flipped the lid.

"Wow!" Sheila and Susan said simultaneously when they saw the diamond and ruby earrings.

"Here, put these on." Donna lifted the dime-size earrings from their case and handed them to Sheila.

"Are they real?" Susan asked.

"Yes, they're real," Donna said.

"Whose are they?" Sheila gazed down at the shimmery circles in her hand. The most expensive piece of jewelry she'd ever owned was the hundred dollar wedding band Daniel had put on her finger the day they married.

"They're mine." Donna walked up behind Sheila, lifted her wavy chin-length hair behind her ears, then turned her to face the mirror again. "They're the perfect finishing touch. Now, go ahead and put them on. Susan and I have to get out of here before Caleb shows up."

With trembling fingers, Sheila removed the tiny gold studs from her ears and replaced them with the borrowed jewels. "Is that really me?" she asked as she gazed into the mirror. "I feel like such a fraud."

"Stop putting yourself down," Donna said. "You're a lovely woman who never does anything with herself. It's past time you started making the most of what you've got. And believe me, Ms. Vance, you've got plenty."

"But do I have enough for someone like Caleb Bishop?"

"More than enough," Susan said, hugging her. "If the man has sense enough to realize it."

Caleb had practically dropped the bouquet of daisies when Sheila opened the door and invited him into her home. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been the breathtakingly elegant woman whose loveliness had left him momentarily speechless. What had happened to the woman in overalls and no makeup? he'd wondered. For a split second he'd thought the stunning lady was another woman.

Boy, oh, boy, was Crooked Oak in for a surprise tonight. He'd known the busybodies would have gossip material for a week after he arrived at the country club with Sheila, but now they'd have a heyday discussing the widow's transformation from plain Jane to beauty queen.

He didn't know when he had looked forward to anything so much as he did escorting Sheila this evening or when he'd been so thoroughly fascinated by the prospect of seducing a woman. And he had every intention of, later tonight, using all his charm to entice Sheila into his bed.

"Ready?" Caleb asked Sheila when they entered the country club.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said.

He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her into the fray. Every head turned. Soft whispers rose to loud murmurs. Half a dozen men, including the mayor, scurried toward them. And all the females in the room craned their necks to get a better view of the couple.

"Who's that with him?" one elderly matron inquired of her daughter.

"Good Lord, Mama, that's Sheila Vance."

"Can't be."

"It is Sheila Vance," another lady at their table said.

"Who'd ever have thought she was hiding a body like that under those overalls she wears," a man said, apologizing for his comment after his wife poked him in the ribs.

Sheila was unaccustomed to being the focus of so much attention. And even though she realized that Caleb was the man of the hour, she couldn't help but notice the way the men gathered around him kept glancing appreciatively in her direction. Did she really look that good? Had Susan and Donna been right? Was she truly lovely tonight?

"Sheila, my dear girl." Mayor Frost clasped her hand. "You look downright gorgeous."

Blushing profusely, she smiled shyly. "Thank you."

"Come along, Caleb. We have a table reserved up front for you and your date." Councilman Witten nodded toward the raised dais that had been set up, where the guest of honor would be put on display.

Knowing every eye in the house was focused on Caleb and her, Sheila was more nervous than she'd ever been in her entire life. Caleb might be accustomed to being the center of attention, but she wasn't. Most of her life she'd been a nonentity, a wallflower, a quiet,
sweet
girl no one gave a second glance.

The meal might have been delicious. She had no way of knowing. With her nerves tied in knots and a queasy feeling attacking her stomach, what little food she consumed tasted a great deal like cardboard. Grateful when the waiter carried away her untouched dessert, Sheila turned her attention to Mayor Frost as he gave Caleb a glowing introduction fit for a head of state.

With that familiar cocky smile in place, Caleb rose to the podium. He was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous hunk on God's green earth. The tuxedo he wore fit his body to perfection, accentuating the breadth of his wide shoulders and the slimness of his hips. Before he even opened his mouth to speak, his presence alone mesmerized the crowd.

Sheila noticed the way he kept his right arm down by his side and used his left hand while he spoke. Knowing that the partial paralysis in his pitching arm and hand was irreversible had to torment him on a daily basis. He had gone from the highest paid, most famous baseball player in the world to a has-been. Few men could endure such a loss without becoming angry and bitter. Tallie had told her about the horrible days and nights after the accident, when she had sat by her brother's bedside, not knowing whether he would live or die. And when he had regained consciousness and learned about his disability, he'd told his sister that he wished he had died.

"Folks, what can I say?" Caleb's gaze moved across the jam-packed room. "It's good to be home."

The deafening applause rocked the country club. One by one the attendees rose from their seats to pay tribute to Crooked Oak's hometown hero—one of their own who had skyrocketed to superstardom in the athletic world.

Sheila saw the muscle in Caleb's jaw tighten and watched as he took a deep breath. A fine sheen of moisture coated his eyes. She wanted to jump up and put her arms around him, to tell him it was all right, that if he needed to cry, to just go ahead and cry. Instead, she sat there as he struggled to control his emotions, knowing that he wouldn't succumb to the feelings rioting inside him. Big, tough, macho man. No tears for him. No show of weakness in front of his adoring fans.

Caleb lifted his arm and motioned for the audience to take their seats. "I never realized when I left Crooked Oak, how far my love for baseball would take me."

"It took you all the way to the top," a male voice called from the back of the room. "You're a real legend, Caleb Bishop, and this whole town is proud of you."

Caleb smiled, amazing Sheila once again with his knack for charming a crowd. As he spoke about his career, he had the townsfolk on the edge of their seats. And when he briefly mentioned the accident that had ended his brilliant career, he brought a tear to every eye—except his own.

The mayor awarded Caleb a key to the city and a huge plaque honoring his accomplishments. After the audience gave another round of thundering applause for the guest of honor, the band struck up a soothing melody and several couples filtered out onto the dance floor.

Pumping Caleb's hand, Mayor Frost patted him on the back. "We're so proud to have you home in Crooked Oak, son."

After thanking each and every citizen who surrounded him for a personal congratulatory handshake, Caleb turned to Sheila and held out his hand.

"Care to dance, lovely lady?"

Smiling, her heart filled with love, Sheila rose from her chair and accepted his hand. He led her out onto the dance floor and brought her into his embrace. He danced with the same eloquence with which he spoke. Confident and practiced. At first, she felt awkward, but within minutes she lost herself in the moment, in the sheer joy of being in Caleb's arms.

"You're the most beautiful woman here tonight," he whispered in her ear.

Her heart soared, even though her mind warned her not to believe his compliment. What would it hurt, she asked herself, if just for tonight she believed him? If just for tonight she could pretend to be beautiful and desirable and the only woman in the world Caleb wanted?

He'll break your heart again,
an inner voice cautioned.
He'll take all that you offer him, give you hope where there is none and then he'll leave you. A woman like you could never hold a man like Caleb Bishop.

She ached for him, in that age-old hungry way a woman's body longs to be filled, to be taken and ravished, to be claimed by the one man destined to be her mate. No other man had ever made her feel the way Caleb did. He and he alone could fulfill her most basic needs.

During the dances he shared with other women that night, she was kept busy by a continual flow of eager partners. Men who'd never given her the time of day before, laughed and flirted with her. Did she look that good? Or were they all lining up for a dance with Caleb Bishop's date?

By the time the evening drew to a close, Caleb made his way back to her and pulled her into his arms for the last dance. This evening had been a dream come true for her. Twelve years ago she had attended her senior prom with Elbert Platt, the biggest nerd in school, and had watched Caleb dance with a succession of pretty girls. Although he'd spoken to her and bestowed his beautiful smile on her, he hadn't asked her to dance. Not once. But tonight, she was the belle of the ball. Tonight she was Caleb's date.

Later, after farewells to his hometown fans, Caleb drove Sheila out of Crooked Oak and onto the road that led to her home and, farther out, his family farm.

"Are you sure you don't mind if we ride with the top down?" he asked.

"Why should I mind? It's a warm, glorious spring night." She leaned her head back against the plush leather seat.

"Most women wouldn't want the wind to mess up their hair." He glanced over at Sheila and once again marveled at how truly lovely she was. In reality, the makeup and clothes and the slightly different hairstyle hadn't changed the woman, they had simply enhanced a good body and fine bone structure.

"I'm not most women," she said.

"I've finally realized that."

They drove in silence, the warm night breeze ruffling their hair and caressing their skin. Caleb slowed the Porsche as he neared the exit to Sheila's house.

"Since Danny's spending the night with Tanner Finch, there's no reason for you to go home now, is there?"
Take this slow and easy,
he warned himself.
Don't rush her. Don't push her.
"We could drive over to Marshallton to one of the clubs."

"I'm not much of a party girl," she told him. "But if that's what you'd really like to do, then—"

"What I'd really like to do is take you home with me." He stopped the car in front of her house, but didn't kill the motor.

"Are you trying to ask me to spend the night with you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Then ask me."

As he turned to her, he laid his arm across the back of her seat and leaned over so that they were face-to-face. "I'd like to take you home with me and spend the night making love to you."

"All right."

"All right?" He stared at her in disbelief. Had he heard her correctly or had he imagined her reply?

"Are you saying that you'll—"

She covered his lips with her index finger, silencing him immediately. "I'm saying that I want you to make love to me all night long."

"What changed your mind?" He nibbled on the tip of her finger.

My need to be with the only man I've ever loved.
"I decided it might be worth the risk." And as he gazed deeply into her eyes, she realized something else. That she was willing to take the chance that this time, they could give each other what they both needed. That this time Caleb would want to stay with her. With her and their son.

He lowered his head and kissed her. Soft, sweet and tender beyond belief, as if he were handling a fragile object that could be broken easily. She sighed as tingling awareness spread from her core throughout her entire body.

Caleb lifted his head quickly, took a deep breath and grinned. "No more of that or we'll be making out in the car."

"Like we did twelve years ago," she said.

"This isn't going to be like it was twelve years ago," he promised. "This time we're going to be in my bed and I'm going to love you like you've never been loved. And when morning comes, we're not going to regret one moment we shared."

Her breath caught in her throat. He revved the motor and sped the Porsche down the road toward the Bishop farm. Within five minutes, he parked the car in the driveway, got out, rounded the hood and jerked open the passenger door. After shoving the keys into his pants' pocket, he reached for her. Hurriedly, he pulled her from the car and into his arms. She went willingly, happily, delirious with the prospect of what lay ahead for them.

Together they raced up to the porch. Caleb shoved her against the front door and kissed her until she couldn't breathe. With unsteady fingers, she removed his bow tie and undid the tiny buttons on his pleated shirt. He cupped her hip and lifted her up against his arousal.

Their tongues participated in a primeval foreplay dance that excited both his senses and hers. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his key chain, inserted the house key into the lock and opened the door. Kissing, clinging, ripping off each other's clothes, they made their way inside. Caleb kicked the front door closed.

They made a trail, consisting of a tuxedo jacket, a white shirt, a pair of high heels and a black silk dress, from the living room to Caleb's bedroom. Now there was no turning back from their appointment with destiny.