Teresa Medeiros (37 page)

Sighing, Colin sat up. There were times when he wished Brisbane had killed him in that moment when Tabitha had vanished. But Auld Nana never would stand for anyone bullying her babes. So she’d snapped Roger’s neck like a twig, forcing Colin to keep living, even without a reason.

Colin shook his head to clear it. This was not what Tabitha would have wished for him and he knew it. She wouldn’t have wanted him to waste his life pining for something that could never be. She would want him to rise from this place and march boldly toward the future, to seek some manner of happiness, even if it was only a shadow of the joy they might have shared together.

He’d never lacked for courage, but rising from that hillock was the hardest thing Sir Colin of Ravenshaw had ever done. He knew he was bidding farewell to his fondest dream. He would never taste Tabitha’s sweet lips again. He would never hold her gray-eyed babes with their sunny hair and shy smiles. He would never watch a mist of silver creep over her own golden hair as they grew old in each other’s arms.

As he stood, the wind ruffled his hair and a fat yellow butterfly floated past his nose. Which wouldn’t have been so jarring if the cat chasing it hadn’t jumped on his calf, claws extended, and started climbing up his leg.

Grimacing in pain, he detached the creature from his hose and held it up to his face. “Sweet
Jesu
, are you trying to kill me …?” His question died on a hoarse croak of wonder. “Lucy?”

The cat greeted him with a joyful meow.

Colin stroked the kitten between its pointy little ears, wondering if grief had finally made him mad. “ ’Tis impossible,” he breathed. “You can’t be here. You disappeared with Tabitha.”

As if to mock his stunned disbelief, the little cat slipped from his numb grip and scampered across the meadow. After a moment of hesitation, Colin hurried after her, unwilling to let her out of his sight.

But he had no choice when she disappeared into the yawning mouth of a tunnel that hadn’t been there only seconds before.

Sven Nordgard had a guilty conscience.

He had gotten only as far as the twenty-fifth floor on his methodical patrol of the Tower before making an abrupt about-face and marching to the nearest elevator that would carry him to the thirteenth floor where the lab was located. He was almost sure he’d failed to secure the laboratory door when he’d fled the corridor, driven by visions of yowling cats as big as panthers leaping at him out of the darkness, razor-sharp claws extended to slash his throat.

As the elevator glided to a halt, he took a deep breath, inflating his barrel-shaped chest to its most intimidating
size. He vowed to himself that he would never again let his cowardly terror of felines deter him from his duty.

The elevator doors slid open. Before Sven could draw his gun, the man standing just outside of them pressed the tip of a sword to his heart and growled, “What in the name of God have you done with my woman?”

CHAPTER
31

A
s Tabitha entered Lennox Tower’s most sumptuous ballroom with its black marble floor and walls of solid glass overlooking the lights of the city, cameras clicked and flashed from one end of the room to the other.

One of the female reporters thrust a microphone into her face. “So where has your father been hiding you all these years, Miss Lennox? In the attic?”

Tabitha smiled. “My father has always encouraged me to take an active role in the company. It was my choice to keep a low profile.”

She felt a surge of relief when Tristan appeared at her side, slipping a protective arm around her waist. Her father had had far more experience dealing with the press than she had, although not all of it positive. He looked both regal and composed in his custom-tailored tuxedo. Arian and Uncle Cop hovered just behind the reporters, prepared to devise a hasty exit if required. Her mother stood on tiptoe to give Tabitha an encouraging wink before taking a sip of her wine.

“Mr. Lennox, do you think your daughter possesses the necessary qualifications to succeed at such a high-profile job?”

Tristan’s smile was almost lethally pleasant. “My daughter is qualified to succeed at any job she chooses, David. Including yours.”

That earned him a laugh from all the reporters, even the one he’d needled.

“You were seen going into an obstetrician’s office yesterday afternoon, Miss Lennox. Rumor has it that you’re pregnant. If so, will motherhood interfere with your new duties?”

Giving Tabitha time to recover her shaken composure, Tristan cocked an eyebrow at the reporter. “You’re the father of two active boys, Ben. Does that interfere with your job?”

“Would you care to reveal the identity of the baby’s father, Tabitha? Will he be taking an active role in the child’s life?”

Tabitha felt Tristan tense. Knowing he couldn’t run interference for her forever, she put a restraining hand on his chest. “It’s all right, Daddy.”

As she stepped away from her father’s sheltering arm, Tabitha caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. She looked trim and elegant in her simple black sheath, her freshly cut hair a shining cap that framed her face and brushed her shoulders. She no longer slumped to hide her height and her skin was infused with the wondrous glow of carrying Colin’s child.

She touched a hand to her belly. She wouldn’t be trim much longer, but she would eagerly welcome the visible proof that she had once been loved by a man like Colin.

A few months ago she would have stammered and squirmed in such a situation, but as she faced the pack of reporters sniffing for any whiff of scandal, she held her head high and smiled through a sheen of tears. “I can only tell you that the father of my baby was …” she faltered, “… 
is
one of the finest men I will ever
have the honor to know—a true hero in every sense of the word. It’s one of the keenest regrets of my life that it will be impossible for him to take an active role in the raising of our child.”

Her cryptic answer only sent them into a feeding frenzy.

“By his choice or yours, Miss Lennox?”

“Is he married?”

“Is he gay?”

Tristan was about to step back into the fray when a cellular telephone chirped. Nearly growling with impatience, he withdrew from everyone’s earshot and drew a flip phone from his tuxedo jacket.

“Lennox,” he barked into the mouthpiece. “What the hell are you babbling about, Sven? You know I don’t speak Norwegian.” He paused. “An intruder? Are you sure? Well, get some backup and call the police. Disarm him if you can. That’s what I pay you eighty thousand a year for.” A longer pause. “He disarmed
you?”
Tristan’s voice rose to a shout, provoking several curious stares, including his wife’s. “With
what?
A sword!” As the blood drained from his head, Tristan almost dropped the phone, but caught it before it could hit the floor. “For God’s sake, don’t shoot him! What do you mean he’s already coming …?”

Tristan didn’t have time to ask for clarification, for the elevator door at the far end of the ballroom was already gliding open to reveal its only occupant.

Tristan dropped the phone at the precise moment Arian’s wineglass slipped from her hand to shatter on the marble floor. As their guests pivoted and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the new arrival, a wave of stunned murmurs surged through the ballroom.

Relieved to be rescued from the press’s hounding, Tabitha turned to see what all the fuss was about.

And found herself gazing into the golden eyes of a knight in shining armor. He marched off the elevator and across the ballroom, his scowl fierce enough to send even the most intrepid gawkers scrambling backward. He looked more than capable of using the massive sword sheathed at his hip to lop off the head of anyone foolish enough to stand in his way. His dark hair haloed his face in a frightful tangle.

Tabitha stood utterly still, terrified that if she so much as breathed she would wake herself up and this dream would end like all the others, leaving her to cry herself back to sleep.

An elderly woman who had been on the board of Lennox Enterprises since long before Tabitha was born said, “Look at that outrageous costume! He must be a male stripper.” She turned up her patrician nose and sniffed in disdain. “I always thought Lennox had better taste in entertainment.”

“Oh, I hope not,” her blue-haired companion replied, eyeing the intruder’s well-muscled shoulders with the appreciation of a connoisseur.

The knight’s relentless approach scattered the lingering reporters and photographers, although several of them retained enough of their wits to fumble in their camera bags for fresh film and batteries.

Although Tabitha still hadn’t breathed, she could do nothing about the tears trickling steadily down her cheeks. As Colin knelt on one knee at her feet and brought her hand to his lips, they fell on his head like a gentle spring rain sent by God to thaw the frozen earth.

“My lady,” he whispered, tasting her skin as if he would have liked to devour her where she stood.

Her breath escaped in a joyous sob. Then she was on her knees and in the arms of the man she loved, kissing his brow, his cheeks, his nose, and finally his soft, remarkable
mouth. They were both oblivious to the cameras flashing and the reporters frantically scribbling notes. Time ceased to exist except for that one moment that seemed as if it would surely go on forever.

Until Tristan reached down and tapped Colin on the shoulder.

Tabitha moaned a protest as Colin reluctantly disengaged his lips from hers and turned his head to find himself gazing into a stern masculine visage. He glanced back at Tabitha, then at Tristan. The resemblance was unmistakable.

As Colin rose, the two men sized each other up like rival bulldogs vying for the same bone. Tristan was taller, but Colin was the more muscular of the two.

Colin cleared his throat as if that bone had become lodged in it. “You must be Tabitha’s father. ’Tis an honor to meet you, sir. I should like to pledge my troth to your daughter and pray you’ll grant me your leave to make her my wife.”

A thrill of pride and happiness shot through Tabitha’s veins.

But that was before her father slammed his fist into Colin’s jaw, sending him sprawling back to the floor.

“Daddy!” she wailed, crawling to Colin’s side.

“Tristan, really!” Arian rolled her eyes.

Colin rubbed his jaw, shooting Tabitha a rueful glance. “You claimed he’d punch me in the nose.”

Tristan stood over him, massaging his knuckles. “That was for breaking my little girl’s heart and getting her pregnant without marrying her first.” He extended his hand, a radiant smile breaking over his face. “Welcome to the family, son.”

As her father tugged Colin to his feet, clapping him on the back as if he were a long-lost fraternity brother, Tabitha sprang to her own feet. “Hey, wait just a minute!
This is the twenty-first century, you know. Don’t I get a say in who I’m going to marry?”

Colin drew her into his arms, cupping one of his powerful hands gently over her stomach. His misty eyes reflected her own wonder. “I fear you’ve no choice, lass. If ’tis my bairn tucked away in there, Auld Nana will insist I make you my wife. Wee Blythe won’t be wee forever and Nana won’t be happy until she has another Ravenshaw babe in her nursery.”

Tabitha wrapped her arms around his neck. Colin didn’t know it yet, but Auld Nana would soon have a nursery full of their babies—three boys and two girls to be exact. “Then I think she’s going to be very happy indeed.”

“Not as happy as I’m going to make you, lass,” he vowed, kissing her softly on the lips.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured. “How did you get here?”

Uncle Cop cleared his throat and pointed at Tristan.

Tabitha noted the shadows of exhaustion beneath her father’s eyes for the first time. “Daddy?”

He nodded. “I can’t explain exactly
how
I did it. I thought my last experiment ended in disaster, but I must have stumbled on something without realizing it.”

Tabitha reached out and patted his freshly shaven cheek. “Oh, Daddy, you were always my hero.”

He kissed her fingers before placing her hand on Colin’s shoulder and backing into Arian’s waiting arms. “That’s one job title I’m ready to relinquish to someone more qualified.”

Colin nodded. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it.”

The reporters were beginning to crowd around them in earnest. Tristan retrieved his flip phone from the floor before it could be trampled, nodding toward the elevator.
“You two go on. I’ll have Sven waiting to escort you back to the laboratory.”

Tabitha squealed with surprise as Colin scooped her up in his brawny arms and started for the elevator. The reporters trailed after them, giving him a wide berth, but still daring to snap photos and shout questions at his broad back.

“How long have the two of you known each other?”

“Seven hundred and sixty-six years,” Colin replied without missing a step.

“Are you the father of Miss Lennox’s baby, sir?”

“I’m going to be the father of all her babes.”

“Do the two of you plan to make your home in New York or somewhere else?”