Wishes (16 page)

“Leave me your number, and I’ll call you to set a time to take the boy to a doctor for testing,” Graham said inflexibly. “I’m not paying any child support or having any kind of involvement until I know you are telling the truth.”

Jennifer threw a card onto the desk and moved toward the office door. She stopped for a moment beside Graham and lightly touched his cheek.

“Don’t throw this chance away, Gray,” she murmured. “We should be together.”

Silence reigned in the office for some time after the door closed behind Jennifer. Patrick clearly decided to stay out of it and made his exit quickly. Graham sank into the chair Jennifer had vacated and put his head in his hands. He longed for Kennedy to rub the back of his neck, but her feet passed through his line of vision and out again. He heard the door open and looked up to watch her leave. Fuck. He needed to follow her and make this right, but somehow he couldn’t get up. He was positively nauseated to think of Jennifer raising a child, especially his child. Nathan Thomas would be nineteen months old next month. That coincided with the time they had broken up. She had named him after Graham’s father, and Thomas was Graham’s middle name. How would he keep his parents out of it now? Jennifer would contact them next, and they would do everything in their power to take guardianship and raise the child just like they had raised Graham. Only this time they wouldn’t allow a governess to suborn their parenting style. It was too much. And he had hurt Kennedy. Shit.

The door opened again, and Graham hoped Kennedy had returned. Instead, Patrick made his way behind the desk and stared at him thoughtfully.

“Kennedy is in your quarters, Graham,” he offered. “She’s crying. And breaking things.”

Graham just shook his head. He was simply overwhelmed by the ghosts of his childhood and couldn’t seem to regroup.

“Get your ass out of here and see to your woman, Graham,” Patrick said with absolutely no sympathy. “Get your shit together and take care of what matters most.”

Graham’s temper rose. He felt like punching Patrick and then realized it was exactly what he needed and what Patrick had intended. He would deal with Kennedy first and then sort out the paternity of Nathan Thomas. Patrick would help him work things out from there. He glared at his friend then thumped him on the shoulder on his way to see Kennedy.

Graham opened the door to their quarters and witnessed his vixen in full fury. Kennedy’s hair was streaming around her face as she hurled clothing into a suitcase. The air was pungent with her favorite scent, and he could see it dripping down the opposite wall, the shattered container resting at the base. Kennedy’s shoulders were heaving with emotional effort, and he could hear her muttering to herself. Fuck, what had he done? Kennedy didn’t run from much.

“Kennedy.” Graham used his darkest Dom voice, infused with all the steel he could muster.

She whirled and faced him. Her face was tear-streaked and splotchy with rage, her eyes red and puffy. Graham’s heart swelled, and he stepped forward to engulf her in his arms. He just managed to block her knee and wrapped her up tightly, hoping she wouldn’t bite a piece out of his chest.

“Babe,” he murmured against the top of her head. “Honey, we need to talk.”

“Fuck you, Graham,” she bit out. “Fuck you to hell.”

“Are you going to listen?” he asked.

“I’m gone, buddy, gone,” she snarled against him, rigid in his arms. “Let go of me and get out of my way.”

Graham manhandled her back onto the bed and used his weight to subdue her when she began to fight in earnest. She was so silent in her rage and hurt that he worried he might never settle her enough to tell her what he should have told her months ago. He resorted to what he knew best. He decided to trade on her passion. Restraining her cost him. Kennedy nearly bit him a couple of times, and her nails did connect with his forearms and left cheek. She wasted no time on futile verbal threats but concentrated on getting away. He didn’t dare let her go, fearing he would never find her again. Suddenly, she went limp. Graham was wise to her tactics and remained on guard until she was tied, spread eagle on the mattress. Her eyes were closed, and she still made no sound other than those of her previous exertion and they began to taper off. Her breasts rose and fell in concert.

Graham decided not to kiss her lips, preferring not to lose a lip to her teeth, but rather drifted his mouth over her throat, pushing fabric aside to access the tender area where her shoulder met her neck. Kennedy shuddered under his touch, and he swiftly unbuttoned the shirt, pushing it open, pulling up her bra in order to access her breasts. He laved them, taking his time, feeling her nipples bead and harden under his touch, and he felt Kennedy’s heart rate spike. Graham kissed his way down her belly, flicking his tongue in and out of her navel, and rested his cheek on her abdomen. What if
Kennedy
had his baby inside of her? That would feel right to him. The thought of seeing her swell and round with his child filled him with a sense of exultation. Graham knelt to pull Kennedy’s skirt up to her waist. The crotch of her panties was already damp with her arousal, and he inhaled the scent of her. His cock filled and lengthened even more. He pressed a kiss between her legs then pushed the material to the side and surged up over her, fitting his cock to her opening and thrusting up inside of her all at once.

Kennedy didn’t open her eyes, but her face tightened and her lips parted. Graham held himself above her, fucking her with long, slow strokes, willing her to look at him, to see how much he cared about her. Had he ever told her that he loved her? He had told her how much he wanted her, needed her, wanted to own her. Kennedy took exception to being owned, but he sure wanted to claim her. Graham couldn’t remember telling Kennedy that he loved her. And now was not the time to compound his stupidity. She would never believe him, seeing it as a manipulation to keep her with him. Graham suddenly lost his erection. He truly had fucked up this time. He was a poor excuse for a boyfriend, or a fiancé, or whatever he was. He sagged away from Kennedy and moved off the bed. She kept her face turned away, but there were new tears on her face now, and he felt helpless at their appearance. He carefully released her ankles and then her wrists, but she didn’t stir. Graham tucked himself back into his pants and straightened himself.

“You’ll stay here until I return, Kennedy.” He left the room and locked her inside, taking the key with him.

* * * *

Kennedy didn’t feel much of anything. Graham didn’t trust her. Now that Jennifer had arrived, he no longer seemed to want her sexually even with the kink, and now he had left, locking her inside their quarters at the club to await his leisure. In Patrick’s office, Kennedy had watched the blood drain from Graham’s face and knew intuitively that blondie was either telling him he might have contracted some deadly disease during their time together or that he had a child. Either way, this truly sucked. She didn’t need to have a talk with Graham about blondie now. It was clear that they had been a serious item in the past, but there was that reference to his family that blindsided her. What family? How had Graham not trusted her enough to share that he actually had a family? He told her he had been on his own since age twenty-two. This was unconscionable. She could cope with a child in his past. That happened to lots of people, and lots of dads didn’t know about their progeny at first, and sometimes, never. But Graham had a
family
and didn’t care enough about her to include her or trust her with his past. Kennedy had kept her poker face on in front of blondie. Graham hadn’t needed any distractions right then, but she felt like someone had stabbed her in the heart. She should be feeling furious and indignant and plotting revenge, but she actually felt little that she could label. Tired, maybe. Numb. She curled into a fetal position and let herself slide toward sleep. Ah, this was familiar. When she got hurt and was done fighting, she went away.

She awoke to someone patting her cheek. She pried open her eyes and saw Madi’s anxious face.

“Kennedy, please, wake up,” Madi kept saying, her eyes sad, her face pale.

Kennedy pushed Madi’s hand away and struggled into a sitting position.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled. “What do you want?”

“When you didn’t come to dinner, I got worried,” complained Madi. “I came down to see you when you didn’t answer your phone, and the door was locked from the outside! Patrick let me in. I thought something had happened to you.”

Kennedy looked at Patrick, lounging up against the far wall. He looked back at her solemnly, and her heart broke into even tinier pieces. If Patrick was concerned, then it was the worst day of her life. Whatever. She was awake now, and it was time to do something. She might want to sleep the rest of her life away, but it couldn’t be here. She wearily swung her feet to the floor, then realized her state of semiundress. Patrick had seen all of her, so it hardly mattered, but she belatedly put her clothes to rights, then staggered into the bathroom. She used Graham’s brush to straighten her hair and washed her face. Her mouth felt like it was full of dirt, so she squeezed some toothpaste onto her finger and scrubbed at her teeth until she could run her tongue over them without wincing. Her toothbrush must be in her suitcase already. Fuck. All she owned was in her suitcase. She hadn’t needed a huge wardrobe working at the club, and now she was starting from scratch. Well, Patrick would give her a good reference, and she could probably find somewhere cheap and furnished. She had a fair amount saved, too, so she could leave the city and head somewhere else. But first she needed to rest and recover enough if she could. A hotel would fill the bill.

Madi was wrapped up in Patrick’s arms when Kennedy went back into the bedroom. She was curled back into his chest, and he had dropped his head to rest his chin on her hair. Madi had been crying by the look of her, and Kennedy fought a distant flicker envy and irritation. She both wanted what Madi had, and she wished her friend would quit being so damn emotional. It would only make things harder.

“I know I should give you two weeks’ notice, Patrick,” she apologized, “but under the circumstances, I hope you’ll understand.”

Patrick nodded. “I think it would be best if you waited for Graham to get back, Kennedy. He is going to need you.”

Kennedy’s head felt muzzy. “
Need
me, Patrick? He had me, body and soul. I would have thought that was obvious. Not much more of me to give, I’m afraid.”

* * * *

Patrick watched as Kennedy finished filling her small suitcase. She had seemed to pack a few toiletries, and he saw a few pairs of shoes, jeans, and some shirts. He realized she had left everything behind when she came to live with Graham and become his PA. Madi had marveled at how easy Kennedy had found it to leave even her few cherished family possessions behind because they wouldn’t fit here. He hoped Graham had made arrangements to store them for her. Kennedy seemed lost and empty, and it was quite worrisome.

He tried again. “Regardless of what he learns about the child, Kennedy, he is going to need support.”

Kennedy zipped her case and easily swung it off the bench. She turned to face Patrick, and her face was blank, her eyes tired.

“You are his best friend, Patrick. He has you.”

“But you are his woman, Kennedy,” Patrick reminded her.

“So he says,” she acknowledged. “But I’ve discovered that he doesn’t trust me. He can’t share with me. He gives me only the superficial and the sexual. I can get that anywhere. He chased me down because I was what he wanted at the time. And now it’s over. Seems fairly simple to me.”

“But you will break Graham’s heart, Kennedy!” Madi sobbed.

“And my heart, Madi?” she asked softly. “Graham has been honest with me in that regard anyhow, sweetie. He never told me he loved me. He never reciprocated my love. He’ll be okay. I’ll call you when I get settled.”

“Where are you going, Kennedy?” asked Patrick.

“Don’t know. But I’ll be fine. Thank you both for everything.”

Kennedy wandered out to the club entrance and thanked Maurice for holding the door. She declined the offer of a cab. Her suitcase weighed next to nothing and she would walk until she became tired. Anything not to think.

* * * *

Graham headed back to the club with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Nathan Thomas was indeed his son, if looks meant anything. The blood test wouldn’t confirm that until at least five days from now. Nathan had been in the care of a nanny, and Jennifer clearly had no interest in him. Graham carefully concealed his own, realizing that Jennifer would use anything against him. He had learned through careful and seemingly disinterested questions that she had discovered her pregnancy shortly after marrying Layne Perry and Layne had either believed or pretended that child was his despite never managing to father any children with any of his three former wives. Jennifer had borne Nathan and promptly turned him over to the nanny. Layne had been comfortable with an heir, but his death had been premature and his will successfully challenged by his former wives. Jennifer couldn’t touch Nathan’s trust fund, for an old lawyer who seemed to have the child’s interest at heart carefully administered it. It infuriated Jennifer, who was forced to live on what she considered to be a modest stipend that, in reality, was an amount that would carry a family of four. As Nathan grew older and looked more and more like Graham, Jennifer decided to have another try at worming her way into
his
family. Graham had to keep Nathan from his parents at all costs and intended to use the five days he had before the results of the DNA testing were available to his full advantage. He had no ideas, but Kennedy would have some. And with Patrick backing him, this would somehow work out. The sight of his woman trailing down the sidewalk outside of the club, pulling a little suitcase, caused him to run straight into the curb.