Keir lost all grasp of the situation as he stared at the trembling, ashen-faced woman in his arms. He heard Logan say to Victoria, ‘I’ll drive you. Don’t panic. Connor will be okay.’
‘How can you say that? You don’t know.’ She rounded on him.
‘Connor?’ Keir struggled with confusion.
Victoria’s anguish jolted him harder than a fist in the solar plexus. Victoria has another lover? He recoiled in denial.
Did she lie to me?
Anger and betrayal seeped under his skin. He had trusted her and honestly believed she was different. ‘Who in hell is Connor?’
Logan gripped his arm. ‘Not now, Keir.’
Jealousy ripped through Keir, but before he could demand an explanation his father took charge.
‘You go and get the car, Logan.’ Caine caught Victoria’s hand, shaking it gently. ‘Which hospital? Waikato?’
‘Yes. Please hurry, Connor might die.’
Keir watched Logan sprint for the door and shook his head to clear his befuddled senses.
‘Keir, help Victoria out to the car.’
Caine’s urgency was contagious and Keir instinctively obeyed the curt order as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
He glanced at the woman in his arms. It was obvious that whoever the hell this Connor was, he clearly meant a good deal to Victoria.
And a few miserable hours ago she was warm and giving in my arms.
Boulders of bitterness filled his gut as he was forced to consider how much he knew about this woman. Had he made yet another mistake? Was Victoria like every other woman he knew, a liar looking out for her own interests?
When will I learn that no woman is trustworthy?
Torn by conflicting emotions, Keir supported Victoria and followed his father.
In the corridor, Muriel cornered them. ‘Where are you going?’
Keir watched his father dislodge his stepmother’s hand from his arm. ‘Victoria needs to get to the hospital.’
‘Who cares? Put her in a taxi.’ Muriel’s lips curled in a sneer.
Keir clenched his hand into a fist.
Logan laid a hand on Muriel’s arm, clearly distressed. ‘Mother, please don’t. Tori’s my friend.’
Muriel rounded on Logan. ‘You need friends like that promiscuous little slut like you need a hole in the head. She lays it out for your stepbrother.’
Victoria trembled in Keir’s arms and he itched to shut Muriel’s vicious mouth once and for all.
‘Logan, get the car.’ Caine’s command sliced through air thick with tension. ‘And Muriel, shut the hell up.’
Keir glanced from his father to Muriel, and he had the peculiar sensation of walking on quicksand. He’d never heard his father speak to his stepmother like this, and God knows Caine had just cause.
‘How dare you?’ Muriel hissed.
‘My son and Victoria are more important than your petty gripes. Give my apologies to our guests. I’m sure they’ll understand.’
Muriel turned to Keir and Victoria, but once again his father stepped between them and his wife.
‘One more word, Muriel,’ Caine said very softly, ‘and I’ll blow all of your dirty secrets clean out of the water. Understand?’
The threat was effective.
Muriel clamped her mouth shut and went po-faced as she levelled a venomous look at Caine before she turned and walked away.
Keir was still trying to make sense of that scene as he helped Victoria into the back seat of Logan’s car. As his father settled into the passenger seat, Keir took a moment to really look at him. With a sense of shock, he realised that the man he’d always regarded as tough and invincible looked old and beaten.
Guilt reared its ugly head.
So often his father had tried to make amends for the past and heal the breach between them, and acutely uncomfortable, Keir remembered how often he’d repudiated every attempt. Instead he’d nursed his hurt and wounded pride. He pushed aside the uncomfortable thought and turned his attention to the woman in his arms.
Logan drove competently and fast, negotiating Darkhaven’s long winding drive before turning onto the highway. The twenty kilometres between Cambridge and Hamilton were covered swiftly.
Victoria was white-faced and trembling; her hands writhed in her lap and tension radiated off her in waves.
‘He’ll be okay,’ Keir murmured, driven to offer her some comfort.
Victoria looked up at him, her whisky-coloured eyes almost black with fear and desperation. Jealousy and trepidation sat like a rock in his gut.
‘I should never have left him,’ she said in a harsh whisper as she gripped his arm with surprising strength. ‘I knew Daphne couldn’t cope.’
‘Daphne?’
‘My stepmother.’
Keir shook his head, frowning. Why were her father and stepmother involved? It made no sense.
Logan turned into the hospital gates and Keir was forced to put his questions on hold as Logan pulled up outside accident and emergency. Keir had his hands full assisting Victoria from the car.
Logan drove off to park and Keir turned to Victoria. ‘Where to?’
She looked at him blankly.
‘She’s in shock.’ Again it was his father who took command. ‘Let me see what I can find out.’
Keir glanced from Victoria to his father. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
As Caine strode across to the inquiry desk, Logan loped up to join him. After a hurried confabulation with the receptionist, they returned.
‘Andrew’s expecting you,’ Logan said briskly. ‘He’s in the waiting room outside the surgical unit. This way.’
He ushered them along the wide, spacious atrium, stopping beside a bank of lifts. When one arrived, they all stepped inside and Logan pressed buttons that sent it flying upwards. It stopped and they alighted, stepping into a small enclosed reception area.
Logan approached the desk and asked for Andrew Scanlan. The woman indicated a small waiting area where a lone occupant sat hunched forward, bowed head resting in his hands. He looked up as they approached and Keir knew that this was Victoria’s father, the likeness between them unmistakable.
The man stood and held out his arms.
With a small cry, Victoria pulled free from Keir and ran to her father, burying her face in his shoulder.
‘Hush. He’ll be okay.’
‘What happened?’ Victoria brushed away her anxious tears as she pulled back and looked up at him.
‘He tripped and fell and hit his head on the corner of the steel workbench in the stable. He has a depressed fracture of his skull.’
Keir tried to follow a conversation that made little sense. He intended to rectify that.
Now.
Who was this Connor who’d thrown Victoria, her father, Logan and now his own father into panic? And what was he to Victoria?
‘Mr Scanlan?’ He stepped forward, hand outstretched. ‘Keir Donovan.’
‘Really?’ Andrew Scanlan put Victoria aside and stepped forward, drew back his clenched fist and landed Keir a cracking blow on the jaw. ‘I’ve waited nearly six years to give you that, you bastard.’
Shocked by the unexpected attack, Keir rocked back on his feet.
‘Dad! No!’ Ashen and shaking, Victoria lurched forward and grabbed her father’s arm. ‘How could you? Are you insane?’
‘What the hell was that for?’ Reeling, angry and bewildered, Keir massaged his maltreated jaw. ‘Take another swing at me old man and I’ll forget my scruples.’
Caine stepped forward, put an arm around Victoria’s shoulders and guided her into a chair.
‘Andrew’s done nothing I haven’t been tempted to do,’ Logan said evenly.
‘Bloody wonderful,’ Keir muttered, shaking his head as he turned to Victoria. ‘An explanation would be appreciated.’
Crimson flushed Victoria’s cheeks and she avoided his eyes.
‘Leave my daughter alone, Donovan.’
Logan, always the peacemaker, stepped forward and did the introductions. ‘Andrew, this is my stepfather, Caine Donovan.’
His even words diffused the tension. Logan’s hand settled on Victoria’s shoulder and Keir fought the urge to knock it off.
She is mine, secrets notwithstanding!
Caine stepped forward, shaking hands with Victoria’s father. ‘I’m sorry we have to meet under such circumstances, Andrew. Is the child seriously hurt?’
‘Child?’ The word shocked Keir more than the blow to his jaw. ‘What child?’
***
‘Your son,’ Victoria said in a harsh whisper. This was not how she intended Keir discover she’d had his child. But Connor’s accident had changed everything. As she looked up into her lover’s dark eyes, she trembled.
For long timeless moments no-one moved or spoke.
‘Connor is my son?’ Keir’s furious rasp eroded the stunned silence.
His expression tightened the knots in her stomach and a violent tremor shook her whole body. ‘Connor is my child, Keir. You merely supplied the sperm.’
Ashen pale, the bruise on his jaw already an angry red, Keir stepped forward and caught her shoulders in a grip so hard it hurt. ‘My son is in there facing life-threatening surgery, and you never even let me know he’d been conceived?’
Staring up at Keir, for the second time in two days Victoria felt the ground beneath her feet shift. She had suspected that Keir would react badly, but she didn’t expect a direct attack. She was not the one in the wrong. An old and deadly anger resurfaced.
‘Is that so?’ She jerked free and stepped backward. ‘How did you expect me to contact you, thought transference?’
‘Why didn’t you ask your uncle?’
‘And discover what? That you’d lied through your teeth? That Seth Donahue didn’t exist?’
Dull red suffused Keir’s neck and face.
Her father grabbed Victoria’s arm. ‘Now look here, Donovan, stop trying to intimidate my daughter.’
‘That’s enough, Dad.’ She shrugged off her father’s hand. This was between her and Keir, and Keir had her undivided attention.
‘You keep out of this, old man.’ Keir glanced at Victoria’s father, his eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Or did you prevent your daughter contacting me?’
Startled, Victoria looked at her father and saw the guilt he couldn’t hide.
My God. Dad knew?
Bewilderment and fear morphed into searing anger and she turned on Keir. ‘You thought I could be pregnant?’
Keir folded his arms across his chest, watching her, his expression unreadable. ‘It was entirely possible.’
What an understatement.
Upset by his attitude and worried sick about her baby, Victoria turned away. From the minute she’d met him again at Darkhaven, she’d been fearful of Keir’s reaction, but she’d never expected such fury.
After last night, of course he feels deceived.
She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, nausea churned in her belly and her skin went clammy. Was she about to throw up and add to her humiliation?
‘Keir.’ Caine laid a hand on his son’s arm. ‘Explanations can wait.’
Caine Donovan’s calm good sense eased the searing tension in the waiting room.
‘You’re right, Father,’ Keir said, but as he glanced at her, Victoria was far from reassured. ‘We will discuss this later, Victoria. You owe me an explanation, and by hell it had better be good.’
‘When will we know anything?’ Logan asked.
This was the question burning in her brain as worry and fear for her little boy overrode every other concern. Her father glanced at his watch and shrugged, and not about to wait a moment longer, Victoria went to the reception desk. ‘What’s happening to my son?’
‘Let me see what I can find out for you.’ The receptionist gave Victoria a kind smile as she picked up the phone and asked for a status update on Connor.
Victoria heard the murmuring voice on the other end of the line, but she was unable to make out what was being said.
The receptionist ended the call. ‘The operation is progressing well, but it’s taking longer than expected.’
‘How long?’
‘The surgeon will come out and see you when they’ve finished.’
And that means what?
Suddenly, all the tension got to her and she became light-headed. Strong hands caught her shoulders and she was grateful for their support.
‘Can you be a little more specific?’ Keir asked the receptionist over Victoria’s head. ‘Connor’s mother needs to know.’
Victoria glanced up at Keir, fighting fear and panic.
The receptionist called the theatre again. When she’d finished she looked at Keir. ‘The theatre nurse thinks they should be finished within an hour, barring any further complications.’
Further complications? What was she meant to take from that?
‘Thanks,’ she muttered, not sure who to thank, Keir or the receptionist. She walked back to the waiting room and sunk into a chair.
Guilt ate at her.
Why had she left Connor with Daphne?
Victoria knew full well that her stepmother was in the last trimester of her pregnancy and having a hard time of it. And Connor, her precious little daredevil, was often hell on wheels. What if he died and never had a chance to know his daddy? She looked at Keir in helpless despair through the veil of her lashes as so many scenarios flitted through her fevered thoughts.
What will I do if Connor dies? Or worse, what if my intelligent, bright-eyed little boy is brain damaged?
Horror and dread reached into every corner of her mind as one fear built on the next.
What if he can’t talk or walk? What if this brain injury puts Connor in a wheelchair, or worse, a coma?
Would Keir accept a brain-injured child? After all, how well do I know this forbidding man? He may be Connor’s father, but he has no emotional bond with my little boy. Would Keir reject an imperfect child, out of hand?
Fear and worry threatened to drive Victoria crazy, and woven through her twisted thoughts were Keir’s angry words. You owe me an explanation, and by hell, it had better be good.
After last night she was far too aware that she’d given him good reason to be suspicious of her every action.
Logan touched her shoulder. ‘I’ve made you a cup of tea.’
Jerked from her tortured thoughts, Victoria looked up and took the polystyrene cup he offered her. ‘Thanks.’
She sipped and shuddered at its excessive sweetness.
‘Drink it, Victoria,’ Keir said quietly.
One look at Keir and her protest died. By the time she’d finished, the sugar rush had eased her shakes. Keir left her and Logan, returning a few minutes later with water and two tablets. She looked at him, eyebrows raised.
‘You need these for that headache.’ Before she could deny it, Keir held up a hand, a slight smile softening his stern lips. ‘Don’t, okay? No-one expects you to be superwoman.’
Victoria grimaced but took the pills, exchanging the empty cup for the water. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, feeling much calmer.
After the longest half-hour of her life, a man entered wearing green scrubs.
Victoria was on her feet, rigid with fear and her mouth parched, and Caine, Logan and her father ranged behind her.
Keir’s arm encircled her shoulders as he whispered in her ear, ‘Courage, Victoria.’
‘Connor?’ Victoria’s voice croaked.
‘Ms Scanlan?’
‘Yes.’ Apprehension turned her mouth acrid and the rock in her belly expanded.
‘Connor has come through the operation well. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, and until he does we won’t be able to fully gauge the success of the operation, but we’re hopeful there will be no lasting damage.’
She heard the surgeon’s voice as if he was speaking through water. Her knees gave out and she sank against Keir, her face pressed against his chest and his arms holding her in a protective cocoon. The sharp staccato of Keir’s questions vibrated beneath her cheek as weak tears overflowed. Victoria hated crying, but these tears were impossible to stem.
‘Cry it all out,’ Keir murmured, his breath warm against her ear.
Above her head, she was aware of Keir issuing low-voiced orders and she pushed upright. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. She took it and blew her nose, and she swiped the tears from her cheeks.
‘Connor’s in recovery and won’t be transferred to the ICU for another hour. Father and Logan are going back to Darkhaven. You and Andrew can come with me and we’ll have breakfast,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘well, more like a late lunch, and then we’ll go to the ICU. No arguments, Victoria. It could be a long wait for Connor to recover consciousness and you need to eat, okay?’
The mention of food, and the hollow sensation in her belly made Victoria aware of how long it had been since she’d eaten. As much as she wanted to object to Keir taking command, she knew that would be hypocritical after the way she’d leaned on his strength.
Andrew turned to Keir. ‘I’ll go on ahead.’
‘You do that and we’ll meet you at the cafe.’ Keir waited until they were alone in the relative privacy of the waiting room. ‘We need to be on the lookout for reporters.’
‘Why?’
Another couple came into the waiting area, and with an infinitesimal shake of his head Keir escorted Victoria towards the lifts. Once they were inside a lift and there was no chance of being overheard, Keir faced her. ‘Be prepared for a pasting from the press.’
‘What possible interest can they have in me?’
A cynical smile touched his lips. ‘If you recall, last night you goaded Davina into ending our engagement.’
As if I could forget.
Was it only last night? Victoria felt as if she’d lived two lifetimes since then. ‘So?’
‘Did it escape your attention that Davina’s father owns Sundowner Press, publisher of The Clarion and The Sunday Insight?’
She stared at him and swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in her throat. ‘You think they could come after us?’
‘By this time tomorrow, you’ll be headline news, Victoria,’ he said, giving her a grim smile. ‘I can damn near guarantee it.’
It’ll be a hollow victory. Davina’s threat surfaced.
The lift pinged, the doors opening, and they stepped out into the corridor. The hospital cafe was directly ahead and Victoria preceded Keir through the swing doors.
It was well past the lunch rush and only a handful of people were in the cafe. Keir edged her towards the service counter.
‘I think we’re in the clear,’ he murmured above her head.
‘You think we could be ambushed?’
He gave her a droll look.
Victoria gave an edgy look around as they joined her father at the buffet. The savoury smells emanating from the kitchen made her stomach grumble.
‘What would you like?’ Keir took a tray as he scanned the menu board.
‘I’m not fussy.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘I’m starved.’
After considering their choices, they placed their orders.
‘Go find us a table outside on the terrace.’ Keir looked from her to Andrew. ‘I’ll get this.’
As she walked beside her father, Victoria was glad of these minutes alone with him. Was this Keir’s intention? They sat at a table sheltered from the brisk southerly that had blown up, and Victoria turned on her father. ‘You knew?’
She didn’t need to clarify the question.
Her father looked away, avoiding eye contact and obviously uncomfortable. ‘Look, it was a long time ago.’
‘That’s not going to cut it, and you know it. You flat out lied to me.’
He leaned closer, giving her a fulminating look. ‘Let’s get one thing straight: it wasn’t me who lied. The man didn’t give you his name, or you know darn well you would have found him long before now.’
Remembering her desperate search to find Seth Donahue, Victoria trembled.
And all the time my father knew.
‘I was the adult, Victoria.’
‘And I wasn’t?’
Her father fiddled with the serviette holder. ‘Had you taken my advice, this situation would never have arisen.’
She sucked a ragged breath, fighting down anger. ‘Connor is my child, Dad, and I was never going to give him away, so what’s the point of rehashing this old argument now? You told me you had no idea who Seth was, and now it’s blatantly obvious you did know. Uncle Tom, too?’
His ruddy flush confirmed her suspicion.
‘Who gave either of you the right to play God with my life, or my son’s life?’
‘That’s enough.’ Her father’s eyes blazed. ‘I investigated the man. His reputation even then was that of a hard bastard who cared little for anyone or anything. I figured that to a man of Donovan’s ilk, you were just a summer fling.’
Nausea churned in her stomach as she remembered just how often she’d harboured those same thoughts. ‘He wasn’t like that.’
‘Of course he wasn’t,’ he said, his voice laced with derision. ‘Donovan is a man like any other; he’d show a girl his sweet side when she’s putting it out.’
‘There’s no need to be crude,’ she muttered, hiding trembling lips behind a clenched fist as she went hot all over then icy cold.
Her father’s face went red and a vein bulged in his neck as he slammed a hand on the tabletop. ‘Face it, he left you. Skedaddled off to America and left you to raise his kid alone. If you think he would’ve changed his plans for you, you’re delusional.’ He looked past her towards the door leading into the cafe. ‘What the hell sort of trouble have you stirred up this weekend, Vic?’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she said bitterly. ‘And what makes you think I’ve caused trouble?’
Her father’s ruddy complexion deepened. He leaned across the table and gripped her hand so tightly she winced. ‘Maybe because that’s what you do.’
‘You’re the one who slugged Keir.’
‘I was entitled. That man ruined your life.’
‘Keir did not ruin my life. How can you say that?’
‘Time will tell. You’ve made your bed, girlie. I hope like hell you don’t find it too damn uncomfortable to sleep in.’ Her father glanced towards the door. ‘And here comes your next headache, so take a word of advice from your old man and drop this subject. Now.’
His words ratcheted up her anxiety another couple of notches and she was only too glad to obey. As Keir set the tray on the table, she was keenly aware of his shrewd glance flicking between her and her father.
If Victoria thought the wait during Connor’s surgery was unbearable, this vigil by her son’s bedside tested every ounce of her courage. Connor was so small, so helpless lying there, his stillness so alien. The white sheets washed out his normal robust colour, his lashes standing out as dark smudges on magnolia pale cheeks. His sculptured lips, miniature versions of his father’s, hung flaccid and loose. The white bandage covering the area they’d shaved for surgery contrasted starkly with his sable hair.
She stole a look at Keir’s impassive profile.
If you think he would’ve changed his plans for you, you’re delusional …
The doubts her father planted multiplied by the minute and she longed to know what Keir was thinking, as much as she feared knowing. What did he think about Connor, about her, about this whole damn situation? Trying to second-guess his thoughts was an exercise in futility.
You owe me an explanation. Keir’s threat hung over her head and she cursed her father’s interference all over again.
Through the long, wearying hours Keir barely spared her a glance, his attention solely centred on Connor’s still figure.
You’ve made your bed. The inherent threat in her father’s words multiplied.
With each passing hour she found it more difficult to remain hopeful. She stroked her boy’s limp hand, but his intelligent and often mischievous eyes remained closed. She was ready to succumb to despair and her heart was slowly breaking.
The doctors stressed the importance of talking to Connor. ‘Your familiar voice will pull him toward consciousness.’
At first Victoria was self-conscious but as the hours passed, one jumbled on top of the other, she forgot about Keir and her attention focused on her child. She talked about familiar routines, his friends, school, and trips to the beach and the zoo. She talked about horses, shopping, and his playroom, books and toys. Victoria talked until she was hoarse and her voice a mere husky rasp, but nothing was the elusive spark that jolted Connor back to consciousness.
Time became irrelevant. Nurses and doctors came and went, but Connor never roused, and her dread steadily grew. She knew that the longer he remained unresponsive, the greater the chance of an unfavourable outcome. The bleep of his heart monitor took on a life force of its own and threatened to drive her crazy.
‘Won’t he ever wake up?’ She glanced up at Keir, unable to conceal her despair.
‘You heard the doctor, Tori, it’s early days yet.’ He gripped her shoulder and leaned down to wipe away an errant tear.
‘I hate this.’ She scrubbed at her cheeks, too worried to be self-conscious.
‘Me too,’ he said on a soft sigh.
He stroked her head, and she found his hand’s betraying tremble strangely comforting. For all that he remained positive and tried to keep her spirits up, Victoria sensed Keir was as worried as she was.
‘Do you want me to take over for a while?’
‘It’s worth a try.’ She was prepared to try anything, anything at all if it would help rouse Connor and bring him back to consciousness. ‘Let me explain who you are. Connor, Connor.’ She stroked her baby’s limp hand with trembling fingers as tears burned at the back of eyes gritty with fatigue. ‘Connor, you asked me to find your daddy, remember? I’ve found him for you, darling.’
And guess what, kiddo? He was hiding behind an alias. All this time I’ve been searching for the wrong man.
Bitterness was counterproductive. It would not help her little boy. With a superhuman effort, she forced the bitterness down before it could leach into her voice. ‘Your daddy’s here, Connor. Your daddy’s here and wants to talk to you.’
Victoria rose, relinquishing her seat beside Connor to Keir. Those pesky tears blurred her vision as Keir picked up Connor’s hand and held it. The contrast was startling. Connor’s hand was so very small and vulnerable in Keir’s much larger one. A lump of emotion caught at her throat.
Anger gained a stranglehold on her battered emotions, anger with her father and with Keir—Donovan money garners attention, and not in a good way.
That may be so, but each man in their own way had deceived her. They both had deprived Connor of his birthright, the right to know his father.
Keir spoke quietly but in the same authoritative tone he’d used when Victoria was about to refuse the sweet tea Logan had pressed on her. That tone had steadied her panic then, and now it brought reassurance.
Father and son.
So often she’d fantasised about Keir meeting his son, but never once had she imagined this scenario—a shared vigil over their unconscious child.
‘Victoria! He’s coming round!’ Keir’s imperative whisper made the breath catch in her throat.
She leaned over Keir’s shoulder, gripping it for support as, ever so slowly, Connor’s eyelids flickered. Once, twice and then they lifted and opened fully. His pupils were wide and unfocused but his eyes were open.
‘Mummy?’
It was the merest whisper, but joy and relief crowded Victoria.
‘I’m here, sweetheart.’ She leaned closer as recognition gradually animated his features.
Keir’s arm encircled her shoulders, his fingers digging into the tender flesh. His breath was a shaky rasp in her ear as he whispered, ‘Thank you, God.’
‘Mummy?’
‘I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.’ She laid a gentle hand on Connor’s cheek and emotion swelled inside her until she thought she’d explode with the love she felt for this little boy. With a broken laugh she glanced up at Keir.
Tears glistened in his dark eyes, but it was the yearning in his smile that threatened to break her heart all over again.
Damn my father. How could he do this to Keir, or to me?
‘He’s going to be okay,’ she whispered, fighting the overwhelming impulse to scoop Connor close in her arms and protect him from further harm. ‘Our baby is going to be okay.’
Keir gripped her shoulder even tighter and merely nodded, and she had the distinct impression words were beyond him.
‘You found my daddy?’
Relief vented itself in a small unsteady laugh. ‘I did indeed, and he’s right here, Connor.’
Her little boy frowned as he looked past her to the silent man standing by her side. ‘Are you my daddy?’
‘Yes, Connor, I’m your daddy.’ Keir’s voice was clogged with emotion.
Tears of thankfulness burned behind her eyelids.
Connor was lucid and appeared undamaged, but it had been Keir’s voice that made Connor come back to them. Victoria didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She stole a look at Keir and saw the emotion he couldn’t hide as his hand skimmed the boy’s sable hair.
‘You won’t get lost again?’
‘No, I won’t get lost, I promise.’
Something in Keir’s voice reassured Connor, and his eyelids began to drift closed.
The doctor monitoring him gave a satisfied smile.
Victoria was so focused on Connor that the doctor’s presence had barely registered. Now, she watched intently as he shone a light in Connor’s eyes, tested his responses and took his blood pressure before he listened to Connor’s heartbeat. A nurse moved to his side and handed him a syringe, and the doctor inserted its contents into Connor’s drip-feed.
As Victoria watched, Connor’s eyelids flickered and then closed, forming dark crescents on his pale cheeks.
‘He’ll do, Ms Scanlan, he’s sleeping now.’ The doctor folded his stethoscope, tucking it in his lab coat pocket before subjecting her and Keir to a thoughtful glance. ‘Give him a few days and you’ll be pulling your hair out trying to keep him quiet.’
With a shaky laugh Victoria surreptitiously swiped at wayward tears. ‘Anything would be better than seeing him like this.’
‘I’ve given Connor a sedative that will ensure he sleeps for hours. He needs rest but so do you.’ The doctor watched her from beneath bushy brows.
‘I can’t leave him.’ The thought of leaving her son so soon terrified her. ‘What if something goes wrong?’
‘Rest assured we’ll keep a close eye on him.’
‘You need rest too, Victoria.’ Keir’s no-nonsense voice mingled with the doctor’s.
‘Are you sure?’ She looked from Connor to Keir, gnawing on her lower lip.
‘You don’t have to do it all on your own any longer, Victoria.’ Keir stood up and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Let me take you home and you can get some rest, too.’
As much as she wanted to resist, she felt her strength ebb as tiredness overwhelmed her, and she leaned unashamedly on Keir’s arm.
‘Do you want a sedative for her?’ The doctor exchanged glances with Keir.
Victoria murmured in protest but Keir overrode her. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’
The doctor left the room and returned a few minutes later with an envelope that he gave to Keir, who slipped it in an inside pocket of his jacket. He handed the doctor a card. ‘These are my phone numbers. If you need to contact Connor’s mother, she will be with me.’
Startled, Victoria looked from Keir to the doctor and saw the man’s soundless whistle.
‘Of course, Mr Donovan.’
Victoria watched them, struggling with resentment at Keir’s high-handed, take-charge manner.
Be honest. I’d have fallen apart without him to lean on.
Sometime during that long vigil, they’d drawn closer.
Night had come and gone and now the day was well advanced towards a second night. Keir’s hand was warm under her elbow as he guided her to the lifts. Something in his watchful demeanour made her wary, but he remained silent until they were alone and the lift door shut, enclosing them in privacy.
‘Dad warned me, Victoria. The press is baying for blood.’ Keir faced her squarely as they descended from the ICU. ‘While we’re in the hospital we’re okay, but we’re likely to be pursued once we’re outside.’
Victoria nodded but was too tired to do more.
‘Dad’s posted security guards at every entrance to Darkhaven.’
Victoria reeled. He’d warned her, but she’d been sceptical. Now, her first instinct was to flee, but the strong hand under her arm precluded her taking that approach.
‘What about Connor?’ Fear for her son made her voice tremble.
‘I’ve placed an embargo on any information regarding him being given out to anyone except you and me, and then only in person. As soon as he’s ready to be shifted out of ICU I’ll arrange around-the-clock security for him.’
‘You think that’s necessary?’
‘Connor is my son.’
The unequivocal statement jerked her back to reality.
Her heart seemed to stop and then race. She gave him a quick, despairing glance. The colourful bruise on his jaw, the dark stubble and dishevelled appearance gave him a dangerous, rakish air.
‘I’ve never said otherwise.’ Victoria was glad there were no mirrors, knowing she probably appeared just as worse for wear.
The look he gave her scorched her clear through to her soul. ‘More’s the pity that you didn’t think of telling me sooner and maybe I could have prevented this, or at least mitigated the worst of this.’
This was a bunch of reporters, cameras at the ready, huddled outside the Haigh Street entrance. Security staff stood between them and the hospital entrance, vetting everyone who passed through the doors.
Victoria sucked in a shaken breath, and Keir gripped her arm tightly and swore under his breath as any hope that he may have exaggerated, vanished.
‘Whatever you do, don’t acknowledge you’ve heard any questions,’ he said tersely, ‘and don’t say a word.’
The caution was unnecessary.
They exited the main doors, and Victoria was glad of his reassuring bulk as they were rapidly hemmed in on all sides. Camera flashes hurt her tired eyes. Keir guided her towards the waiting car, ignoring the strident voices bombarding them with questions.
He opened the rear door of a sleek black car, pushed her inside, clambered in behind her and slammed the door, the tinted glass affording them some privacy.
‘Do I have to face that every time I want to visit Connor?’ she asked after she’d caught her breath.
‘No. I’ll make arrangements to ensure you can come and go in privacy.’
She nodded and slumped back against the luxurious upholstery, closing her eyes and willing the world to go away.
I hope you can cope with the consequences. Caine’s warning now made sense. Her impulsive actions had precipitated a crisis that had engulfed the entire Donovan family.
When their car finally stopped, Victoria opened her eyes, staring in stunned amazement as she surveyed an impressive mansion.
‘Welcome to Dunstan.’ Keir answered her unspoken question, his expression impassive.
‘Why am I here? I thought you were taking me home?’
‘Did you imagine you’d be safe there?’
She stared at him, appalled. ‘The press—’
‘—are swarming around your apartment like flies around a honey jar.’
She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat refused to budge. ‘Connor?’
‘Is not safe there and neither are you.’ The edge to Keir’s smile made her nervous. ‘You can now consider Dunstan home.’
His high-handed assumption that she would just move in with him angered Victoria. ‘And if I refuse?’
Keir shrugged and the look he levelled at her sent goosebumps slithering across her skin.
‘Come or go, it makes no odds to me, but understand this Victoria,’ he said in a voice she’d never heard before, ‘Connor is my son and he stays with me.’
He cut off her instinctive protest with an upraised hand.
‘I have missed more than five years of my son’s life and I’m damned certain I’m not about to miss even one more minute.’