Sutherland’s Pride (5 page)

Pride had run out of patience with this statement. “I’m glad to hear that, because it was pretty devastating to me, too.”

“Don’t bother lying to me at this late date.”

“Well, when you find out his identity, please tell me.”

The days for letting him make her angry with that accusation were over. She had long ago forced herself to recognize that if he refused to see the truth, there was no way she was going to make him. She counted to ten, breathed deeply, and dug her nails into her palms until she almost believed herself calm.

“I never found out who he was,” Flynn said, in grim tones. “I’ll say this for you. You covered your tracks well.”

Astonished, Pride turned her head to stare at him a moment. He still sounded absolutely furious. It might have happened yesterday as far as Flynn was concerned.

Somehow, knowing he still felt hurt and angry gave Pride hope. Perhaps he would work his way toward the truth.

On the other hand, she reminded herself, the truth might make no difference to Flynn. She had no business hoping Flynn would love her again.

She drew in a deep breath. “While you’re working on the problem of my secret lover, see another doctor. It sounds to me like your old one was so interested in preparing you for the worst he forgot to mention the possibility of miracles.”

“I’ve lost interest, thank you,” Flynn said.

She fell silent, staring out the side window at the tall marsh grass that covered the coastal plains. Three years ago, she’d worn herself into a nervous breakdown trying to prove herself to Flynn, and look where it had gotten her. He still thought her a liar.

“I didn’t mean to hash over the past,” he said, at last. “I promised myself I’d forget it, at least for tonight. Will you forgive me and let’s start over again?”

Flynn laying on the charm was worse than Flynn raising hell. She responded too much. Pride kept her face turned to the window while she struggled to get her unruly emotions under control.

“Of course. Shall we discuss taking the kids out on your boat? You’re asking for trouble, you know.”

Flynn laughed. “With three adults, we ought to be able to handle four children, don’t you think?”

“Not if Johnny keeps lusting after your watch.”

“I’m developing a deep liking for Johnny. He’s a boy after my own heart,” Flynn said, and rendered his companion speechless.

Pride found her voice at last. “He seems to have taken to you, too. He’s the most stubborn child I’ve ever dealt with.”

Of all the exquisite ironies, that Flynn enjoyed Johnny’s company and didn’t realize the boy was his son.

“You know what they say about birds of a feather,” Flynn pointed out. “We stick together.”

And how
. “When he eats the rest of your watch, don’t complain to me about its sentimental value.”

She ought to tell him now. But Flynn was not yet ready to believe her. She held her breath until the urge passed.

“Johnny and I are forming a mutual admiration society,” Flynn went on.

Speechless, Pride keep her face composed and her gaze straight ahead while she imagined Flynn’s feelings if he ever realized on his own that Johnny was his son.

She grinned suddenly. Perhaps she could suggest that Flynn offer to adopt the child from Gloria on the grounds that Gloria had too many children already. She could just picture Gloria’s indignant refutation of Flynn’s offer.

What would be even funnier was Flynn’s face when Gloria told him that Johnny, the child after his own heart, was Pride’s son rather than Gloria’s.

Flynn felt vaguely disturbed long before he drove beneath the blue awning that sheltered the entrance to the restaurant he had chosen. Pride’s refusal to argue with him any further over her baby’s parentage hadn’t escaped him, nor had the fleeting expression of private amusement on her face.

Neither had those ridiculous freckles she’d dabbed on her cheeks, or the blue-green dress he remembered disliking.

He considered the matter as he drove. He’d far rather have Pride screaming at him, the way she had three years ago. It would have meant she still cared, that she was still wanted to convince him that yes, she had been pregnant, and no, she hadn’t taken another lover.

The Pride who sat quietly beside him, however, stated her position plainly and shut up. She made it clear that she didn’t care any longer what he believed or whether he found her attractive.

Flynn pondered it with a sense of insulted disquiet and watched her surreptitiously. For the most part, she sat with her hands folded in her lap, the picture of tranquility. At times a smile broke across her face like rays of sunshine, and he wondered who brought that tender look to her face.

Astonished, he realized that he couldn’t stand it. “Pride?”

She looked at him as if her thoughts had been more interesting than his company.

“What are you thinking?”

Three years ago, he could ask her that question and receive an answer that would send the blood singing through his veins.

She smiled. “I was thinking about Johnny. If you take him on your boat, you’ll have to tie him to the mast. Otherwise, he’s sure to fall into the water.”

“Like that time you wound up in the water?”

“I got caught by the wind,” Pride said, with dignity. “You’d better plan some way to keep the children confined to the deck if you really intend to take them sailing.”

“I’ll think of something,” he promised.

Why was Pride thinking about Johnny? Probably, she was covering up her thoughts of a new boyfriend in Lake Charles.

He hated to ask, but he couldn’t stand not knowing.

“Are you dating anyone special?” He cursed himself because the question didn’t sound nearly as casual as he hoped.

“No.”

He’d have sworn Pride told the absolute truth, but he’d been fooled by Pride before. He’d better remember that, and rip out this growing desire to believe anything she told him, or she would really rake his heart over the fire this time.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Are you?” she countered.

“No, because I’ve been too busy establishing my practice to put a lot of time into developing a so-called meaningful relationship,” he said and smiled at her astonished expression.

“Good for you.” She sounded half-choked.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Why aren’t you dating anyone special?”

“Like you, I’ve been too busy making a living to cultivate interpersonal connections.”

Flynn began to laugh. He’d forgotten how entertaining it was to hear the way Pride phrased things.

“Don’t you remember?” he asked. “In my office this morning, I told you that you’re now a relatively rich woman. You don’t have to work any more if you don’t want to.”

“Is that right?”

She really thought he was lying. Flynn’s eyes widened with shock. “When I show you your father’s stock portfolio, you’ll understand.”

“I didn’t know he had one,” Pride said. “How interesting.”

Her tone implied it was anything but. Flynn considered that a moment, recalling what she’d said earlier about her father. “Is it true your father believed you weren’t his daughter?”

“Heavens, Flynn, do you think I’d say so if it weren’t? Yes, it was true, and yes, you can probably check it out if you’re sufficiently interested. He used it as an excuse to be rude to Mama in public constantly. It was almost a relief to me when she died, because she’d never have to put up with that again.”

It was the longest speech Pride had ever made about her childhood. Flynn had never thought of it before, but he knew almost nothing about Pride’s upbringing. That was strange, because Judge Alan Donovan had been a fixture at the courthouse in Anahuac for as long as Flynn could remember. He was known as a tough, but fair, judge.

Puzzled, Flynn glanced at her. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this when we were dating?”

“Why should I? It had nothing to do with you, and there’s nothing more boring than having to listen to the more horrid parts of someone else’s childhood.”

Flynn spotted the restaurant and guided the Bronco beneath the blue canopy that marked the entrance. “I would have been interested.”

“I’m sure you would,” Pride said, in that same flat tones she used when she refused to argue with him about her pregnancy.

Flynn found it a stunning shock to realize that she had no intention of arguing with him about his interest in her childhood any more than she intended to argue with him about her alleged baby’s father. Her attitude said something to him, and it took Flynn a moment to get a grasp on what it was.

He sat still a moment, ignoring the restaurant employee who intended to park his car.

Years ago he had watched his college roommate suffer through a love affair that was on and off so many times, that at last all the feeling had been burned out of the man. When the woman came back one last time, Flynn’s roommate wore that same patient, detached expression he saw now on Pride’s face.

She no longer cared. She didn’t care anymore about her father and had long ago given up on ever winning his love.

And she no longer cared about Flynn Sutherland, or about convincing him that he had gotten her pregnant.

“Flynn? That man is waiting,” Pride said.

Flynn stared at her and wondered if he were seeing her for the first time. How had he missed the distant attitude she projected, or the aloof expression in her green eyes?

He felt as if he’d stepped down and discovered too late that there was no step where he expected one to be.

He got out hastily and came around to open her door and help her down. Her hand felt soft and cool, and it didn’t linger in his one second longer than necessary.

Flynn hated it.

Perhaps it was a judgment on him. He’d spent so much time telling himself Pride was trying to trick him into marriage, he had never considered that she might just lose interest.

He placed his hand at her back in the old way and walked her into the restaurant. Sure enough, Pride moved slightly away, so slightly he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been expecting it.When he took her arm to escort her to their table, she behaved as if she was unsure of his name.

Flynn seated her, conscious of an unreasoning desire to jerk her into his arms and force her to care again. One couldn’t behave like a Neanderthal in public, so he pushed the desire aside and sat down across from her. She took up the menu, glanced at it without much interest, and laid it back down.

“Please order for me,” she said. “I still like all the same things.”

Except him. Flynn wondered at his own blindness. He’d noted her wariness earlier in his office, but he hadn’t recognized her cousin and the four children as a deliberate distancing tool.

Pride looked around the restaurant in a pleased way. A few moments ago, Flynn would have cynically assumed it was because he had chosen an expensive French restaurant. Now he realized she thought he wouldn’t get too personal in a place like this.

“This must be a popular place to eat.” Pride maneuvered her chair to change her position a bit.

Flynn glanced up and discovered the reason. His parents had a table nearby, and Pride now had her back more fully to them.

“The food and the service are both first class,” Flynn said. “That’s why I brought you here.”

Three years ago, Pride had been thankful to dine with him at the nearest pizza parlor. She enjoyed everything they did together. That effervescent joy in his presence had been one of the most powerfully attractive things about her.

He studied her, debating the best approach to breaking down her reserve. Her eyes, a mysterious blue-green thanks to her dress and the low lighting, held a watchful expression.

She behaved almost the way he had behaved three years ago, Flynn suddenly realized, when he regarded everything she said as a lie. It was an unpleasant sensation to find the tables turned.

“Good evening, Flynn. May I present myself to your — Why, Pride Donovan. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Flynn’s father, a tall man with greying brown hair and brown eyes like Flynn’s stood beside them and regarded Pride with an expression somewhere between surprise and pleasure. Morgan Sutherland had always claimed Pride was the sort of woman he hoped Flynn would marry.

Flynn noted Pride’s expression automatically. Although her mouth smiled, she regarded Morgan Sutherland in much the same way she had been regarding him. In fact, Flynn thought there might be more warmth in Pride’s gaze as she faced his father.

“My dear, I should have realized you’d be in town,” Morgan said. “I’m so sorry about your father’s passing.”

Pride smiled and said, “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

“My wife and I would like the opportunity to visit with you further while you’re here. Will you stop by our apartment later for coffee?”

“Thank you, but I left my cousin at home with four small children. I don’t want to leave her alone any longer than absolutely necessary.”

Morgan Sutherland was unaccustomed to refusals. “Perhaps tomorrow night. You can bring your cousin and the children. It’s been too long since we’ve had children in the house.”

“If you’re wise, you’ll make it a while longer,” Pride said, still smiling. “Placing four small children together in one place is asking for mayhem of the worst kind.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Morgan said, satisfied. “Tomorrow night. It’s settled. Bettricia will be thrilled.”

Pride wasn’t. That much was obvious to Flynn.

“I’m afraid it won’t be possible,” she said, “but thank you all the same.”

Morgan immediately began to present ways and means by which it was possible, and Pride just as adroitly evaded them.

“I don’t think you want to have coffee with us,” Morgan said, balked.

Pride, still smiling said, “No, sir. I don’t.”

Morgan stared.

“That’s honest enough for you, Dad,” Flynn said, laughing at his father’s astounded expression.

“If that’s so, then I’m sorry,” Morgan said. “I had hoped we could forget the past and make a fresh start. Bettricia and I always thought very highly of you, until you claimed Flynn as the father of your child.”