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  He started to speak, threw up his hands, and wobbled into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Bett went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She quickly closed it again. The shopping could wait until she made something to eat and washed some dishes to serve it in. The freezer boasted a steak, a big juicy one, so she cooked that and opened a can of English peas and creamed them. There was a packet of creamed corn in the freezer, so she boiled that and added it to the sparse menu. She cleaned all the dishes lining the sink and filled a plate.

  By the time she knocked on Cul’s bedroom door, she’d even made a dent in the cluttered living room.

  “Well?” he demanded as she opened the door.

  “Much better.” she said approvingly. He’d changed into blue silk pajamas. His hair was clean and blond again, although he still had a sickly look. “I’ll bring your supper.”

  “There’s nothing in there that’s fit to eat,” he protested.

  She ignored him, returning to the kitchen to put his plate and a cup of black coffee on a tray. She tucked it over his lap on his king-sized bed, and sat down in a chair with her own black coffee to watch him eat.

  He picked at his food for several seconds before he finally began to eat with gusto.

  “Aren’t you eating?” he asked, noticing that all she had was coffee. “Junior needs his strength, too.”

  “Junior has prenatal vitamins,” she said nonchalantly, tucking a strand of hair back into the French twist over her nape. “One of those, and I could lift the front end of a Mack truck.”

  He laughed faintly. His quiet eyes studied her as he finished off the steak and washed it down with black coffee.

  “Did Dick send you over here?” he asked with a cynical smile.

  “I came on my own,” she replied.

  “To save me from myself?” His voice was a little weak, but full of authority. He handed her the tray. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

  “Of course you can, dear man,” she agreed wholeheartedly, putting the tray on a side table. “Just look how well you were managing. How long had it been since you’d eaten?”

  “I had a box of cheese crackers just yesterday,” he assured her.

  “Have you seen a doctor?” she persisted.

  “What in God’s name for?” he burst out. “I’m just tired!”

  “You look feverish to me,” she muttered. “And white as death.”

  “I had to finish the screenplay,” he said wearily. His eyes held hers. “You should read it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I’ll wait for the screen version, thanks,” she said. “Can I get you anything else before I finish tidying up the living room?”

  “You leave the living room alone,” he said tersely. “I have a cleaning woman.”

  “If you did, she’s dead of heart failure by now,” she told him, rising. “It looks as if you’ve entertained a battalion of commandos in there.”

  “I was working!”

  “No wonder you’ve never married,” she muttered, lifting the tray from the table. “There isn’t a woman anywhere brave enough to cope with this kind of mess.”

  “No? Then why are you here?” he asked gently.

  She glanced at him with a calm expression. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know. Just one thing, Cul. I’m not dying of unrequited love anymore. You were right the whole time. We had a good physical relationship, but that’s all it was. I realize that now.”

  He sat up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said. “And I thought you’d like to know that I’m through mooning over you and accusing you of being my child’s father.” She even smiled at him. “Aren’t you relieved?”

  “I’ve done some thinking of my own,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “Bett, about the baby…”

  “All water under the bridge, darling,” she broke in gaily. “Subject closed. Permanently.” She started out the door with the tray.

  “But, Bett…!”

  “No,” she returned, her voice firm. “Try to get some sleep, Cul. I’ll finish up the dishes, and let myself out. All you needed was a decent meal and a little light housekeeping. You’ll be fine now, I think.”

  “Why did you come?” he persisted, his green eyes quiet and intent.

  She shrugged. “It’s a great play. I’m working myself out of debt and having a blast in the process. I figured I owed you one. So now we’re even. Ciao.”

  She closed the door on his puzzled, exasperated expression. She’d surprised herself with her new air of maturity, her ability to cope without falling apart. Amazing, that it had taken a broken heart and pregnancy to turn her life around. Now all she had to do was pull herself together enough to go on without Cul.

  How surprising that he’d been there all alone. He had enough women that surely one or two of them must have been willing to come and take care of him while he was in seclusion. Maybe they only liked him when he was a healthy man about town.

  Cul was at the theater the next night, and he came backstage after the performance to take her home.

  “I usually do that,” Janet said haughtily, glaring at him as she waited for Bett to remove her makeup.

  “From now on, I’ll do it.” He returned her look steadily. “Any argument?”

  “Now, see here, Cul…” Bett began hotly.

  “No, no,” he scolded. “Fighting is bad for the baby. Hurry up. You need your rest.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Janet told Bett reluctantly. “Yell if you need me,” she added with a meaningful glance before she shot a last glare at Cul and left.

  “Bully,” Bett accused him as she took off the last of the makeup.

  “It gets results,” he said nonchalantly. He looked well. Much more rested, less drawn, in well-fitting gray slacks with a white shirt and red tie and a tweed jacket. He was frankly sexy, and Bett didn’t like remembering the way those straining muscles felt under her exploring hands. He was extremely sensuous. He exicted her as no other man ever had. Especially now, when she carried his child in her body.

  “Should you be out on the streets so soon?” she asked.

  “I was only tired,” he told her. “I feel much better, after your bit of nursing care.”

  “I can get home all by myself,” she tried again, facing him in the brown jumper she wore for the performance.

  “But you won’t. Come on, little mama, I’ll let you snuggle up to me if you get cold.”

  “In a Porsche, there’s hardly enough room to do anything else,” she muttered.

  “Ahh, but I’m not driving the Porsche. I traded it this morning. For a Lincoln. More comfortable.”

  “I’d have thought the Porsche was exactly the thing for a happy bachelor,” she remarked.

  He opened the dressing room door for her. “I’m getting older, Bett. Too old to play around.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of settling down.” She laughed. “I’d never believe it.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  She ignored that odd note in his tone and pulled her tweed coat closer around her as they went out into the cold night air.

  “Is that the only coat you’ve got?” he asked curtly.

  “It’s warm,” she replied.

  “You need something with a hood.”

  “Great. Next year I’ll ask Santa for one.”

  He sighed roughly as he led her to the big gray Lincoln parked outside the theater. “Why won’t you let me do things for you?” he asked quietly. “I’m sinfully rich. I have no one to spend the money on. I could get you anything you needed for the baby.”

  She glanced at him as he put her into the passenger seat of the car. “You wouldn’t let me take care of you if the situation were reversed.”

  “That’s different,” he protested.

  “Not different at all,” she returned when he got in under the steering wheel. “You’re as inde
pendent as I am, in your way.”

  “I thought you’d already admitted that the baby came first.”

  She leaned back in the seat. “Thanks to the company and the backers, I no longer have to worry myself sick about medical and grocery bills, thanks.”

  “There must be other things you want.”

  She smiled dreamily, closing her eyes as he drove, the sound of car engines and horns surrounding her. “Of course there are. I’d like those pretty pieces of baby furniture in the catalogs, and little frilly dresses for her to wear, and little patent leather shoes…”

  “Her?” he asked softly, searching her face as he stopped at a traffic light.

  “They did an amniocentesis test, along with ultrasound, to make sure there were no problems,” she told him. “They can determine sex that way. She’s a little girl, Cul.”

  He bit his lower lip hard enough to bruise it, his darkening green eyes dropping to the swell of her abdomen. He’d hit it right on the head that afternoon in the fast food grocery, musing about his daughter. And now it was his daughter, and he knew it, but Bett didn’t want him anymore.

  “Thought about names?” he asked with apparent carelessness as he pulled back into traffic.

  “I like Kathryn. Kate for short.”

  He considered that with a smile. “How about Elisabet?” he asked dryly.

  “One is enough,” she muttered. “Anyway, I’ve always liked Helen. It’s my mother’s name.”

  “Add an `e’ on the end and it sounds better. Kathryn Helene.”

  “Yes. I like that.” She studied her hands in her lap. “What was your mother’s name?”

  “Michele,” he said tersely.

  “And your father’s?”

  “Thomas.”

  There was a coldness in his tone that puzzled her. “Are they still alive?”

  “He died somewhere in France, where he was `entertaining’ two teenage girls. My mother wound up in a retreat for alcoholics. I visit her once or twice a year.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been a pretty rough life.”

  “Boarding schools, mostly,” he replied. “They never wanted children. I was an accident, and they told me so, frequently. I was an unwanted infringement on their leisure time, so I was promptly dispatched to boarding school at the age of six. It was the best thing, considering the circumstances. I never even missed them.”

  But he had, Bett thought, studying him. He’d missed having someone to love him and care about him.

  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked unexpectedly. “This production isn’t putting you at risk?”

  She smiled. “It’s actually doing me a lot of good. I get my daily exercise, I have no time to sit around and brood about what might go wrong, and I’m doing exactly what my doctor says to do the rest of the time. I’m fine.”

  “I’ll make sure of that, from now on,” he said with dogged determination. “I’m going to be your shadow.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Listen, Cul, I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself and the baby. I’m not your responsibility.”

  “You are,” he returned.

  “I’m not asking for anything. I told you last night, I don’t feel that way about you anymore, Cul.”

  His expression was shocked, but he averted his face so that she couldn’t see it. “You’ll never forget what I said to you when you told me, will you?” he asked quietly.

  “It was pretty rough,” she confessed. Her eyes had a faraway look in their dark depths as she folded her hands in her lap and stared out at the city lights. “I was so excited,” she recalled, her smile wistful. “It seemed like the end of the rainbow. And then you wouldn’t even listen to me. I think that hurt most of all. Now, of course, I can understand why you didn’t believe me. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “You’re sure that Hadison doesn’t want to marry you?” he asked hesitantly.

  “I’m sure.” She grinned. “I think he’ll eventually marry Janet, actually. They’ll make a good couple, too.”

  “Then what about the baby?”

  “I’ll take good care of her. Why should I share her?”

  “She needs a father,” he argued curtly. “Someone to screen her boyfriends when she’s older and comfort her when she cries in the night.”

  “I can do all that,” Bett assured him.

  “Not like a father could!”

  She pretended to think about that. “I’ll let Mr. Bartholomew screen them.”

  “He’ll be dead by then!”

  “Don’t shout, Cul, what will my neighbors think?” she protested. They were parked just below her apartment window, and Cul’s face was red with bottled-up fury.

  “You could marry me,” he said. “We could both raise her.”

  “No, thank you,” she replied politely.

  “She’s my child!” he burst out.

  She looked him straight in the eye. “No,” she said coldly. “You won’t get around me that way, by pretending to believe me at this late date. You won’t convince me that you’ve had such a sudden change of heart.”

  “But I have,” he began.

  “I’m very tired, Cul,” she said wearily, “and I don’t feel up to any arguments tonight. Thanks for bringing me home.”

  He got out of the car and went around to open her door, his face taut with indecision, his eyes dark with mingled hunger and frustration.

  She took the hand he extended, feeling a pleasant tingle at its warm strength as he helped her out onto the sidewalk. He didn’t let it go, either, retaining it even after he locked the door and walked her up to her apartment.

  “I’d feel better about it if you’d move in with me,” he said as he left her at her door. “Even if you won’t marry me, you’d be safe.”

  “Protected, no doubt, by your legion of lady lovers?”

  “I don’t have any lovers, Bett,” he replied, his voice deep and soft.

  “And the pope isn’t Catholic,” she agreed.

  “Now who’s lacking trust?” he queried.

  “I’ve been getting lessons.” She unlocked her door and stared down at the rusty doorknob. “Thanks again for seeing me home.”

  He touched her shoulder lightly. He turned her around, pulled her gently against his tall, strong body and looked down into her wide, dark eyes.

  “I’m going to take care of you, Bett. Even if you fight me every step of the way.”

  “Cul…”

  “Shhhh,” he whispered gently, bending so that she could taste the minty scent of his breath on her parted lips. “Sleep tight, darling.”

  He made the endearment sound genuine. And she didn’t protest when he laid his warm, firm mouth over hers and gently nibbled at it. It was so sweet, that tenderness from him, that giving. Always before, even when he was the most gentle, he was still taking, not giving. This was different.

  He lifted his head a breath later and touched his fingers to her cheek. “Good night, Elisabet.”

  “Good night.”

  She watched him walk away with tears in her eyes. Oh, Cul, she thought miserably, why are you pretending to believe me now, when you were so determined not to believe me in the beginning? How can I ever trust you again?

  He seemed to sense her eyes on his back, because he suddenly turned and looked at her across the distance. And he smiled, slowly, and lifted his hand before he turned the corner. She turned slowly and went into the apartment, her mind full of questions.

  Ten

  You don’t really believe he’s had a change of heart, do you?” Janet asked Bett the next morning as they had coffee together in the little deli down the street from Bett’s apartment.

  “No,” Bett confessed. “I think he just wants the baby. You know how wild he’s always been about children. Since no other man has jumped in to claim it, he’s going to.”

  Janet stared into her black coffee. “Don’t let him cut you up a second time,” she said gently.

  “Don’t worry, he
won’t get close enough for that.” Bett stirred cream into her own coffee. “You know, it’s odd, but I learned more about him last night than I’ve ever known. He actually talked to me. And it made me realize that he never had before. Even when we were so involved with each other.”

  “Well, with any luck at all, he’ll at least live up to his responsibilities. Imagine him thinking it was David’s baby!”

  Bett lifted her eyes and studied her friend. “It isn’t, you know,” she said levelly. “David is my friend. He’s never been anything else, so you can stop worrying yourself to death about it.”

  Janet blushed wildly. “Oh, Bett, I didn’t mean…!”

  Bett actually laughed. “You silly twit,” she accused. “You know I’ve been crazy about Cul for years. Not even for revenge could I sleep with someone else.”

  “I knew that, deep down. I guess I just wanted to hear you say it,” Janet confessed.

  “So now I have. Okay?” She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “Oh, Janet, what am I going to do with…oof!” She put a hand to her stomach and caught her breath, looking dazed.

  “What’s wrong?” Janet asked quickly.

  “The baby kicked,” she said breathlessly, laughing with tears in her eyes. “Oh, my!”

  “For heaven’s sake!” Janet was mystified.

  “They move around, you know. You really start to feel them about four and a half months.” She sighed as she smoothed her hand over the soft mound. “Imagine. I’m really going to be a mother. Of all the incredible things…”

  “Speaking of incredible things, don’t look now, but here comes trouble.”

  Bett turned to see Cul searching the deli for her. He found her and moved quickly toward them, a tall, formidable figure in a blue pinstriped suit.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a seat beside Bett.

  “Having breakfast. I always have breakfast here,” she bristled.

  “You like bagels and cream cheese for breakfast?” he asked. “Okay. Marry me, and I’ll buy you the place.”

  Bett flushed and Janet’s eyes widened.

  Cul directed his next speech to Janet. “I’ve asked her ten times,” he said. “I’ve proposed at breakfast, lunch and dinner. I’ve proposed drunk and sober. She won’t marry me. Will you please tell her that I’m rich? I can give her anything she wants. I can give the baby a good education and dress her like a little princess. I can even,” he added slyly, “take care of the baby’s mama. If she’d just marry me!”