Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides) (4 page)

Lana pushed the button to raise the garage door and pulled out to the street. No reason to worry until she had proof.

Except she didn’t need proof. She was already sure.

What was she going to do?

Lana had never been so grateful to have Blake in California checking on some of the other hotels. Of all the days she needed him to be gone—this one took top prize. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to tell she was distracted—and he wasn’t the type to give up if he wanted to know something.

She forced a smile and pleasant attitude through her morning meetings, chatting with guests and employees as she made her rounds and checked on everything in the hotel. She waved to Joel—head of security, and her half-sister Sage’s boyfriend—and to Vince when she saw him outside winterizing the grounds. He would marry Cami in a couple of months and she couldn’t be happier for them.

Except she really wished this pregnancy were Cami’s problem—she was going into a marriage, not trying to get out of one. A marriage none of the other sisters even knew about, and she was sure if any of them had figured it out, they would have said something to her. Though she couldn’t possibly show yet, she touched her stomach as she finished walking her usual loop of the grounds, checking out what Vince and his crew had been working on, and noting a couple of things for the engineering department to look at. She depressed the button on the nearly invisible lapel radio set she wore and contacted Dirk to let him know before she got distracted by everything else on her mind.

She had no idea what Blake would do when he found out about the baby. Tell everyone they were married? Sue for custody? Insist even more that she give it another shot? Walk away?

No, that one she was sure of, they had talked about kids—someday down the road. They’d both wanted them, but not like this. Not now. Tears rose again, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. She was the boss, she had to be strong—not fall apart where her employees could see her.

She finished the rounds of the property and headed for her car. Time to find out for sure.

Lana stood in the drug store aisle debating the merits of the various home pregnancy tests on display for only a few seconds. The last thing she wanted was for someone to find her there and figure out she was pregnant. Wouldn’t the press
love
that story? She snatched one off of the shelves that promised an answer in less than three minutes and headed for the cash register.

“Ms. DiCarlo, it’s good to see you. How are things going at the resort?”

Lana turned to see Alanna Jenkins, reporter for the Chronicle, the local newspaper. She held the hand of a little girl with dark hair. Of course she would run into a reporter here. At least it was just a small press—but the gossip rags would salivate over a story like this. “Hello. How are you doing today? I haven’t seen much of you lately,” Lana greeted her.

“Is that an invitation?” Alanna’s smile broadened. “There hasn’t been much for me to report here since your gala opening. I hear rumors about ghost activity at your place, though.” Her voice was light, but her eyes indicated she was fishing.

“You can’t do anything about old crackpots who like to tell tall tales, can you?” Lana forced a light chuckle and wished Cami had been the one to field that. She was so much better with people. “I hardly think old ghost stories are worth your time.”

“True enough. Let me know if it turns into more than that?” Alanna’s eyes slipped to Lana’s hand, and the way her brows lifted ever-so-slightly made it clear she’d noticed what was in the box. “Until then, we’ll let rumors blow themselves out.” She flashed a friendly smile.

Lana felt her face grow hot, but hoped it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Alanna had been all news and zero sensationalism on her articles regarding the resort in the past, keeping back bits that were salacious, but not worthy of a serious news source. She hoped the woman didn’t change her mind about what was actually important. “I agree, and appreciate your journalistic integrity.”

“Mommy, can we go yet? Daddy said we could go for ice cream.” The little girl tugged on her mom’s hand.

“Yes, sweetie.” She glanced back at Lana. “He can’t seem to tell her no. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure.” Lana waited a moment for the line at the register to empty out, then took the pregnancy test to the counter. She was grateful the clerk barely seemed to glance at the box and didn’t show any recognition for Lana. She was back out to her car in two minutes.

The house should be empty. Now was the time to do this, before her nerves drove her over the edge.

Lana sat on her bed for a long time staring at the double pink lines on the test stick. She had suspected, but thinking that she might be pregnant was nothing like learning the truth. Her stomach rolled and she sucked in a deep breath in hopes of keeping everything she’d eaten that day exactly where it was.

There was a baby growing inside her, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She ought to be elated—if things had been different, she would be running to tell Blake. Instead she felt numb. She would keep her child, no question about it. Beyond that, the shock was too great to consider. Maybe it would make sense when the fuzziness left her head and she had time to think about how to raise a baby as a single mom. Right now she couldn’t think about how she would handle her job and a kid at the same time.

Not that she needed to work once her year at the resort was up. The inheritance was more than enough to live on for several generations, but the thought of giving up the job she had worked so hard to earn for the past fifteen years was incomprehensible. Then there was the issue of her baby being due when there would still be three months left on her one-year contract at the resort—another requirement of her father’s will.

And what would she tell Blake? What would he say? Could she stand having to deal with him for visitation and having this child in common with him for the rest of her life? She thought she would be free of him… eventually. Now she never would be.

There was the sound of a door closing downstairs and heeled shoes clicking on the tiled floors. Lana panicked when she heard the footsteps on the stairs and then Sage called out her name, “Lana, are you up there?”

Lana dropped the pregnancy test stick on the floor and kicked it under her bed, then stood fluidly and opened her bedroom door, hoping she didn’t look as shell-shocked as she felt. “Yeah? What’s going on?” She congratulated herself for almost sounding normal. Of course, Sage could probably see through that in a heartbeat. She usually did.

“Joel brought me by to grab a report I left on my nightstand, but we noticed your car in the garage. Are you okay? The stars this morning said you’d get a big surprise.” She studied Lana. “It doesn’t look like it was a good one.”

It always unnerved her when Sage’s astrological readings ended up coming true. Lana didn’t believe in astrology, but sometimes she had to question her belief that all psychics were charlatans—at least around Sage. It wasn’t that Sage claimed to be psychic; she had an uncanny ability to point things out—and while she pretended that the oddly accurate things she said came from newspapers, Lana knew better.

“I’m fine. I came home to refresh my makeup. I forgot to bring my emergency kit to work this morning.” It was a total lie, but Lana wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the baby yet.

“You could use some blush,” Sage agreed after a moment. Clearly she wasn’t the least fooled, but she wasn’t the type to pry, either. “We’ll see you back at the resort.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” Lana waited while Sage grabbed her papers and then left the house through the garage. Then she let a few tears fall before cleaning up her face and retouching her makeup. She had too much to do at work to waste half the day over her new condition.

As she headed for her car, she pressed a hand over her abdomen. “Try to be nice to me, would you, kiddo? I’ve got a lot to do.” And no idea how she would make it all work.

Blake made a habit of watching his wife, of knowing when she came into the office next to his in the morning and how late she worked. He found excuses to pop in and chat with her when a quick email would have done as well, and saved time. Something was bothering her, and he didn’t think it was the same thing that had driven her into his arms the night of the hotel’s grand opening.

She’d seemed to be adjusting to her job, enjoying the work, but for the past couple of weeks she’d been more distant than ever. There was a tightness around her mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was the escalating “ghost” incidents, maybe it was an argument with a sister—except she seemed to be getting along fine with the other ladies. They weren’t buddies, but the tension was low-level.

If she could see him take pains every day for over four months to show her why they should be together and still not reconsider the divorce, he didn’t know if another year would do the trick. The fight against discouragement was a constant battle. Though it was probably some twisted form of self-torture, he would finish out the contracted year here, in the office next to hers.

After their breakup he’d given her room to calm down, to gain perspective, hoping she would see the truth and come back on her own but it hadn’t happened. Now he was determined to be there every time she turned around. If proximity could give him a shot, he would at least get a chance to really talk to her before the end of the next summer.

On the other hand, there was a fine line between making sure she didn’t forget him, and becoming a nuisance. Crossing that line would make his goal harder to reach, not easier.

Blake tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him when he saw Lana rush past his doorway. Her hand slapped against the executive restroom door as she pushed in and the sound of retching followed just before the door slammed shut behind her.

He jumped from his chair and headed for the restroom, knocking as he heard another retch. “Lana?” he called, then steeling himself, added, a little louder, “I’m coming in.” He hoped there wasn’t some other employee in there adjusting her stockings or something, but waited a couple of seconds longer before pushing in.