Childfinders Inc - Hero For Hire Part 36

But that was his problem to deal with, not hers, and the sooner he came to grips with that, the better for everyone all around. Maybe even him.

Veronica could feel a tension creep in between them and wondered why. She took her checkbook from the center desk drawer she'd unlocked. "Shall I make the check out to you?"

"To the agency will be fine," he told her. Veronica put pen to paper. He felt awkward watching her write out the check for services he'd rendered. Accepting it from her would put the cap on their relationship.

They hadn't had a relationship, he reminded himself tersely. At least, not one that, under normal circ.u.mstances, would have evolved. These hadn't been normal circ.u.mstances. Suddenly finding herself the mother of a kidnapped child was like finding herself thrown into the middle of a war. Things happened in wartime that didn't take place in everyday life.

Such as feeling he had the right to make love to a woman who had been born to the finer things in life. She needed someone from her own world, he told himself, not a man who was still wrestling with the demons from his past.

As if she would even consider being part of his life or having him be part of hers. The thought mocked him. What happened between them came under the heading of "just one of those things." An interlude, nothing more. If he tried to imbue it with any more importance than that, he was a bigger fool than he'd thought.

It was time to get things back to normal.

Finished, Veronica held the check out to him. "Let me know if this isn't enough."

He glanced at the sum. "You made it out for too much."

But when he tried to give the check back to her, Veronica pushed his hand away with a smile.

"No amount is too much, not for what you did. I was willing to give up every penny I have and beg and borrow more if I needed to." Looking up into his eyes, she folded his fingers over the check. "This doesn't begin to cover it. Consider it a small token of my appreciation."

The thought rankled him more than he knew it should have. Maybe because of the emphasis on their different stations in life. Hers said "blue blood," his said "pa.s.sing through." "The agreement didn't include 'tokens.' "

Something in his voice made her wary. "Then call it a donation to the agency-to help find other missing children."

He nodded, not willing to continue arguing the point. Drawing his hand away from hers, he pocketed the check. "Thank you. Cade's been talking about getting more state-of-the-art equipment."

Inspiration leaped forward and she reached for her checkbook again. "If he needs a larger donation-"

He cut her off. He didn't want their last words to be about money. "He'll know where to come."

That had come out too curtly, but he didn't want to be reminded of their very different lifestyles. Not right now.

He was sufficiently aware of that as it was.

Chad shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in his skin. This was something new, at least with her. But then, reluctance to say goodbye was something new to him, as well.

He looked toward the door. "Unless there's anything more, I'll be going."

Unless there's anything more. The words hovered in the air between them, mocking her.

Wasn't there anything more?

She'd thought there was a great deal more. Veronica looked into his eyes again.

Had she only imagined last night? The desire, the pa.s.sion that had surrounded her so completely? Was that only a figment of her imagination? He'd made love to her in a way she'd never been made love to before. Gently, wildly, and it took her breath away just remembering. After last night-because of last night-she'd thought there was more in his heart. That last night hadn't been just about a convenient meeting

of bodies.

She'd been the one to ask him to stay, she reminded herself. He hadn't made a single overt move toward her. Maybe he thought she was a frustrated rich widow, throwing herself at him to blot out the hours.

She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. Could she blame him for thinking that?

But now, apparently, it was over. He had a life to get back to.

And she had Casey.

So why was there this bitter hurt opening up within her? A wound that felt as if it would take a very long time to heal?

She'd never known anyone who hadn't wanted something from her. Even Robert had wanted something. The doors her name had opened up for him.

Chad Andreini wanted nothing from her and she ached because he didn't. Because she wanted so much from him. And she wanted him to want her.

But she had her pride and she wasn't going to ask him to stay. Not a second time.

This time the decision had to come from him.

"No," she replied quietly, "there's nothing more." Her throat tightened as she put out her hand. Two strangers about to part.

He took her hand in his, shaking it as if they hadn't spent the night in each other's arms. As if she hadn't been the one to open up the door within him that he'd kept sealed shut for so long.

He nodded toward the ceiling. The boys had gone upstairs to play. "Say goodbye to Casey for me."

Veronica set her mouth grimly. "I will. I guess I'll see you at the trial."

The trial. He'd almost forgotten about that. He'd be there to testify about what had happened. And she'd be there to testify on behalf of a woman she had every right in the world to hate. A woman who had betrayed her trust and very nearly wrecked her world. That Veronica could be so generous and forgiving still astonished him.

Chad crossed to the doorway. "Right."

He walked away without turning around, leaving her standing in the den. He didn't know if he could look at her one last time and still keep walking. So he didn't even try.

She made him want to be a better person.

If Veronica could find it in her heart to forgive Anne Sullivan so quickly even though the woman had been instrumental in kidnapping her son, then maybe, Chad told himself, it was time he let go of the anger he'd been harboring for so long. The anger and the hurt.

The thought lingered on his mind, and he debated it for the remainder of the day.

All through the report he wrote up about the case, all through the conversations he had with the others at the agency, the thought relentlessly haunted him.

Evening found him driving to Harris Memorial Hospital, instead of his empty apartment.

It was time to bury his ghosts and put things right. Way past time.

The hospital parking lot was emptying when he arrived. Most visitors had either gone or were on their way.

Chad went to the information desk to ask what room his father was in. A small, grandmotherly woman in a pink smock stopped what she was doing to look it up on the computer. The smile she offered, along with the information, stayed in his mind, reminding him of another, softer smile as he rode the elevator up to the seventh floor.

The floor where they kept the more seriously ill patients.

Chad waited a beat before getting off the elevator, a residue of reluctance slowing him down. He had no idea what he was going to say, only that he needed to say something. For his sake, as well as his father's. He understood that now. This was as much for him as it was for his father.

The man in the single-care unit bed didn't bear any resemblance to the man he had once known. As a child, he'd always thought that his father looked powerful, like a