Undercover Father (7 page)

“Of course,” he promised.

He let Zane leave first, waiting a few minutes before he followed. He finally went back toward the lobby, but only as far as the stairs. He was headed upstairs, to have a talk with Wayne Lawrence.

* * *

M
EGAN
STOOD
IN
THE
CENTER
of the day care facility and felt as if she’d been abandoned on an island that had been taken over by little people. Children were everywhere, in groups and alone, playing, singing, watching TV, painting and crying—in no particular order. One boy, a beautiful child, had his face puckered up in misery, and was screaming at the top of his lungs. A teenage girl dressed all in black was trying futilely to calm him down.

“Walker, it’s okay. Mommy’s at the doctor’s and you are here to have a good time,” the girl said as she tried to interest him in a train that had been set up around a strange-looking play tree in the middle of the room. He let out another scream and hit the train, sending it off its tracks.

Megan had turned away from the piercing confusion, ready to leave and come back later, when she saw an older woman hurrying into the center from the front entrance. She was in her sixties, pleasant-looking and dressed in a simple navy dress and white running shoes. She saw Megan, started to smile, then moved faster and called out, “Oh, no!”

Megan didn’t know what the woman was yelling about, not until she was blindsided, toppling to her left on the carpet, where she found herself on her back, staring up at a limb of that improbable tree. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she found herself face-to-face with a little boy. His dark brown eyes were wide, his cap of black hair marred by a streak of blue running through it—the same color that stained his beige overalls and white T-shirt.

“Gabriel!” the woman was saying as she reached the child and crouched in front of him, touching his face gently. “Sweetie, you’re okay, aren’t you?”

Megan pushed herself to her feet while the lady fussed over the little boy, and felt something crack under her shoe. She looked down and saw the earpiece to her phone on the floor. The tiny microphone had snapped right off of the clip. “Rats,” she muttered as she stooped to retrieve it and her cell phone.

“Uh-oh, bad word.”

She straightened and looked down at the little boy, who was pointing at her accusingly. “That’s bad.”

She wasn’t going to be reprimanded by some kid who was the equal to that beast of a cat at the loft. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d fallen, and since she’d been here, she’d taken two tumbles. “No,
this
is bad,” she said, holding up the broken earpiece. “Very bad.”

Had she really expected to debate with the child, who couldn’t be more than five years old? She certainly hadn’t expected him to throw himself facedown on the carpet and start to sob with abject misery.

She hadn’t meant to make that happen, but didn’t know what to do about it once it had. So she crouched to reach for her briefcase, knocked from her hand in the kerfuffle, and that’s when she saw her thigh. One tiny handprint stained the linen with the same bright blue that was smeared all over the crying child. Her nerves had been fraying ever since she’d entered this chaos, and this was the last straw. “Look what he did!”

The older lady stood and turned to Megan, frowning at the stain. “I’m so sorry, but I’m sure Gabriel didn’t mean to do anything.”

“So am I, but my slacks are ruined,” Megan muttered, afraid to touch the stain in case that only made it worse. “Absolutely ruined.”

She suddenly realized the room was silent, and her words were echoing through it. Mary frowned, and the boy even stopped crying for a moment to stare up at her, his eyes damp with tears. “I’m so sorry,” the lady repeated.

Megan made another grab for her briefcase, then straightened. She didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t hang her further with the group that was staring at her.

“Gabriel’s new here and he’s excited. I’m sure he’s very sorry for what he did, too.” She looked back at the boy. “Aren’t you, Gabe?”

He looked at Mary, back to Megan, then started to cry again, huge, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. If she hadn’t been the one he’d hit, she would have been furious at anyone who made him cry like that. Just when she was on the verge of trying to make him stop crying, he fell dramatically to the floor once again and started to sob as if his heart would break.

Another little boy ran over, and Megan blinked when she saw him. He was the spitting image of the first boy, but without the blue accents. Identical twins. He was just as dramatic, falling across his brother’s back as if shielding him from some unimaginable horror. He whispered something to his brother, then twisted to look up at Megan. Absolutely identical, down to and including those huge dark eyes shooting daggers at her.

The woman patted the second boy on the back, calling him Greg, then a teenage girl hurried over and dropped down by the boys. She gathered them both into her lap, hugging them to her, then she gave Megan a dirty look as she murmured, “It’s okay, buddies.”

Greg squirmed in the girl’s hold and frowned up at Megan again. “You’re not nice, lady,” he said in a clear, childish voice. The pronouncement carried the same weight as if an adult had called her a jerk. It stung, and only made her more confused, intensifying the feeling she had of being totally out of place.

The woman was at her side now. “Come with me, and we’ll take care of your pants,” she said.

Megan stared at the children holding on to the teenager, who was rocking them slowly. Gabe was still crying, but Greg just glared. She’d been knocked to the floor. Her earpiece was broken. Her slacks were probably ruined. But for some reason, she was coming out of this disaster as the bad guy, and the fact was she felt like that.
Stupid,
she thought, and turned to follow the woman beyond the tree, down a short hallway, then into an office on the right.

Ever since spotting Rafe that morning, Megan had felt edgy, and now two children had made her nerves raw. She went into the office with the woman, who thankfully closed the door on the noise in the other room. Megan looked around the small space, at boxes and files piled against the walls, with a playpen wedged in between. Bookshelves filled the higher walls, and a desk, positioned to face the door, was loaded with paperwork.

Mary motioned to what looked like a pink lawn chair that faced the desk. “Sit and let’s take a look at the damage.”

Megan put her briefcase on the floor by the pink chair, then sat in it. She still had the remnants of her earpiece in her other hand. “I’m sorry for being so—”

“No, no, forget it,” the woman said, then looked up at her with a soft smile. “I’m Mary Garner, by the way. And you must be from Legal?”

“Yes, Megan Gallagher,” she said.

“Nice to meet you.” Mary looked down at the stain. “I would have preferred a more pleasant greeting, but with kids, you don’t have much control over what happens.”

Megan knew she needed to apologize, even if it was only for the way she’d spoken out there. “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt with the boy.”

“And he didn’t mean anything by it,” Mary murmured, then straightened. “He did a bang-up job of ruining your slacks, though.” She started for the door. “I think that’s just chalk,” she said over her shoulder. “It should come off.” Mary left, closing the door behind, and Megan thought she said, “Let me get a brush and I’ll give it a try,” but she couldn’t be sure.

She sank back in the chair, staring at the stain. If she returned to the loft to change, she could be back at work in an hour. Or maybe she should just find a store nearby and buy a new pair of slacks. She couldn’t work in these. The door clicked open and Mary was back with a brush in one hand and a white terry cloth rag in the other.

She left the door open, letting the chaotic noise into the small room, and it played across Megan’s frayed nerves.

“Now,” she said. “We’ll fix this up right away.”

Megan stood quickly, making sure Mary didn’t get within touching range. “No, please, I’ll take care of it.”

The woman hesitated, brush at the ready. “I’m sure we can get—”

“No, no,” Megan said quickly. “I’ll take them to the dry cleaners. I don’t want to take any chances of permanently ruining them.”

Mary held the brush up, but didn’t come any closer. “You don’t have children, do you?”

That question came out of the blue. “No.” Was it that obvious?

“You’re an only child?”

“No, I have a brother...an older brother.”

Mary nodded as if that explained everything. “Oh, I see.”

Megan had no idea just what she thought she saw, because she kept speaking as she went around the desk to sit in the chair and drop the brush and rag by the phone. “Since you’re here, maybe we can get a bit of business done before you go to the dry cleaners. If that’s okay with you?”

Megan would have gladly sat down and answered any questions Mary had about the legal proceedings, but she never got the chance. Before she could, Greg, the second twin, came barreling into the room, saw her and ran at her full tilt.

She put out her hands to ward him off, her earpiece falling to the floor once more. “Oh, no, you don’t!”

The little tornado was stopped in his tracks when someone came in behind him and snatched him up off the floor. It was Rafe! He’d come out of nowhere to rescue her from the kid he was holding in one arm, while the little boy squirmed to get free and wreak more havoc.

Megan met Rafe’s gaze, shocked that he seemed on the verge of smiling. “Don’t let him go,” she said quickly.

“I won’t,” he promised. “Now, tell me what’s going on.” He paid no attention whatsoever to the little boy, who had twisted around in his hold and was pressing both hands against his chest to try and escape.

“That...child’s brother,” she said, bending over to pick up the ruined device again. “He knocked me over, broke my earpiece and smeared blue stuff on my slacks.”

She met Rafe’s gaze again, and he seemed sober now. “Should I lock him up in jail?” he asked, and his words not only stopped her, but the boy became ominously still, staring up at him.

“What?” she gasped.

He smiled then, an easy, teasing smile that showed a single dimple at the corner of his mouth. “Or I could chain him to a chair for the day, just give him bread and water?”

“Nuh-uh!” the boy said with a quick shake of his head.

“Just kidding, buddy boy,” Rafe said to the child, then whispered in his ear. It reminded Megan of the way Greg had whispered in Gabe’s ear before giving her that dirty look and telling her she was bad. The boy turned to Megan and that look came again, what her father used to call the “stink eye.” It fit. Rafe moved to let him down and Megan braced herself in case he came at her again, but he simply ran out of the room.

Rafe was still there, a teasing glint in his dark eyes that all but made her squirm. “This isn’t funny,” she said. “And you scared him. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I thought you wanted revenge.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous. His brother started it.” She opened her hand and showed him the fractured earpiece. “It’s ruined,” she said.

He glanced at it, then back to her. “He hit you that hard that it broke in two?”

“No, I stepped on it, but...” She bit her lip. “Then he got this all over my clothes.” She motioned to the blue stain. “He knocked me over completely.”

Rafe came closer, breaching the safe distance between them. “Are you injured?” he finally asked.

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “No.”

“Any bruises, cuts, scrapes?”

“No, but—”

Rafe abruptly reached for the brush. Moving as fast as the boy had, he hunkered down in front of her and started brushing at the blue on her slacks.

“No, don’t!” she gasped, but he didn’t stop, and she found herself standing there, frozen, staring down at the top of his guard cap, relishing the sensation as he methodically brushed at her thigh.

CHAPTER SIX

M
EGAN
FELT
FIRE
in her face and closed her eyes tightly while Rafe Diaz brushed at her thigh. When she opened them again, Mary was standing behind him, watching the two of them. She gazed at Rafe intently, then looked up at Megan, and out of the blue gave her a wink.

A wink?
Megan looked back at Rafe, at the top of his guard cap, but all she was really aware of was how close he was to her again.

“Good, good, good,” Mary murmured when Rafe finally stood.

He faced Megan with just inches separating them. “Gone,” he said. “Out, out, damned spot.” She must have looked vacant or something, because he said, “Shakespeare.”

“I know Shakespeare,” she murmured, and looked down at her slacks. She’d definitely lost her dignity, but she’d also lost the spot. The blue was gone. She couldn’t believe it, and bent over to take a closer look. Rafe leaned forward at the same time, and her head hit his and she saw stars.
People really see stars,
she thought, as she moved back with a gasp and stumbled against the chair.

Rafe caught her by her shoulders to keep her on her feet. “Oh, my!” she gasped, touching her forehead gingerly with her fingertips as she closed her eyes tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and she felt the heat of his breath brush her face. She trembled. “Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes, and he was so close his features were blurry. Too close. Much too close. “Yes, I’m okay,” she managed to answer, and sank back into the chair behind her.

The instant she sat down, she knew it was a mistake. All it did was make him seem overwhelming as he stood above her. He frowned and bent down, grabbing his hat from the floor, then crouched in front of her, hat in hand. “You’re going to have a nasty knot there, maybe a bruise,” he said, gesturing to her forehead.

“Great,” she muttered. “What else can happen today?”

That made him smile, and she saw the dimple come back, enticingly close to lips that held a soft upward curve. “Don’t even ask,” he murmured. “Just be careful.”

She’d forgotten about Mary until she realized that the older woman was back behind the desk, watching their little show. “As long as those two miniature tornadoes are kept corralled, I think I’ll be safe,” Megan declared.

“I offered to lock them up,” Rafe said easily as he stood, towering over her once again.

She looked up at him, into those dark eyes. “I think taking sugar away from them might be a more reasonable solution. Someone should talk to their mother about their diets.”

There was a flash of something in those eyes, something she almost thought was pain. Then she realized it might be anger. There had been a lot of anger at their last encounter. “So, you’re an expert on kids, are you?”

“Not even close, but anyone can see that those two little boys need—”

Mary moved closer then, coming around to literally stand between them. “Oh, dear,” she murmured with narrowed eyes on Megan’s forehead. “I think you need ice.” She turned to Rafe. “Could you get some ice for Megan, please?”

Megan knew he didn’t want to do anything for her at that moment, but he turned and strode out of the room without a word. The door closed this time with a decidedly hard click. She glanced at the shut door, thankful he was gone, and not feeling any hope that he’d bring back ice.

She gently touched her forehead again and felt the tenderness of swelling. “Ouch,” she said, pulling back from the contact. “Is it bruised?”

The woman studied her, then shook her head. “Not yet, but it will be.”

“Well, he’s got a hard head.”

Mary smiled a bit at that. “Most men do.”

“I bump heads like that, and then those two kids...” She exhaled. “They’re dangerous.”

Mary cut her off in midsentence. “Megan, they’re his.”

She frowned, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

“The twins? Gabe and Greg?”

“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten who they are.”

“They are his boys. They’re Mr. Diaz’s sons.”

Megan wasn’t up to this, not after what she’d said to him about the boys. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “I didn’t know that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Mary said matter-of-factly. “And you were a bit...stressed.”

She rested her head on the back support of the chair and stared up at the acoustical ceiling.
Stressed?
What a simple word for what Rafe did to her when she was around him. She remembered her idea about him having breakfast with a lot of little Rafes. Now she’d met two of them. And the wife and mother would be right there, too. “Does he have six more at home?” she asked.

“Just the two, I think,” Mary said.

Megan stared at the pattern on the acoustic tiles. “They’re enough,” she muttered.

“I’m sure he thinks so sometimes,” the woman said. “How about you—two kids too many?”

She sat up and watched Mary going around to sit behind the desk again. “Excuse me?”

“You know when you’re young and you decide, ‘I want two boys and two girls,’ and you plan your future?”

She was taken aback by that statement. She’d never planned for children, only for school and her career. “No, I never did,” she admitted. “I bet you had a houseful of kids, didn’t you?”

Surprisingly, there was no smile now, just a certain sadness in the woman’s expression. “I wanted them, but I didn’t get them. Now I have a center full of kids.” That brought the smile back. “A whole bunch of cute kids.”

Now that things were more settled, Megan realized the children probably
were
cute. The twins certainly could be, with huge brown eyes like their father’s, midnight-black hair in Buster Brown cuts, and... It was then she realized they both had their father’s dimple—one dimple. “As long as I don’t have to be around kids much, they’re cute, I guess.”

Mary laughed softly. “I assume that’s an engagement ring?” she asked, glancing at the diamond. “You’ll be getting married and having children of your own.”

That was a statement, not a question, and Megan wouldn’t tell the woman that she and Ryan had never talked about children. She’d assumed they wouldn’t be a priority, and maybe would never happen. “Perhaps later on, somewhere down the road, when Ryan and I are settled and things are in order,” she murmured. Megan wanted to change the subject. “Why do you suppose the twins went after me?”

Mary laughed ruefully at that. “Oh, honey, they weren’t after you, at least not the first time. Gabe was heading for me, and you just got in the way. And Greg, well, he’s very, very protective of his brother.”

“I’m not some monster,” she murmured, though she was sure most people in the center thought she was. “I’m just not good with children,” she admitted. “Especially those two little live wires. They are such a handful. I bet they pillage and plunder everywhere they go, and they...”

Her voice trailed off as she realized that Mary was looking past her at someone who had just opened the door and come into the room. Megan’s heart sank. She didn’t have to look to know that Rafe was back. She’d thought he’d left for good, but here he was, stepping in front of her and holding out a plastic bag of ice. She took it quickly, and chanced a look up at him.

He’d heard her. She knew it by the way his eyes were narrowed and his mouth set. She cleared her throat, and once again apologized to this man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were yours, and I didn’t mean anything, but they just...they took me by surprise, and I thought my slacks were ruined.” She shrugged, implying she was way out of her depth being around the twins. “I’m not used to kids like that,” she said in a rush, and knew she’d said the wrong thing once again. One look at his expression made that crystal clear.

There was a nerve-wracking silence before he crouched down in front of her, took the bag of ice from her hand and pressed it to her forehead none too gently. She gasped from the sudden rush of cold on the tender spot, and reached up, her hand covering his on the ice bag before he jerked back so quickly that she lost her grip and the bag fell into her lap.

He stared at her hard, then said, “Do it yourself. It might help the swelling.” As he stood, he added, “But I don’t think it’s going to help your attitude at all.”

“What—?”

“Miss Gallagher, you really need to stop judging people, big or small, when you don’t know them at all.”

Before she could think of something to say, anything, he left, leaving the door open as he disappeared out into the hallway. Megan looked down at the ice bag in her lap and she clenched her hands, the broken earpiece almost cutting into her palm. “Ouch!” she yelped.

“Fathers are quite protective, you know,” Mary said from behind the desk.

Megan knew that. Or she should have. Her father had been so protective when she was growing up. “He sure is.”

“Well, everyone needs someone in this life that they know would go the limit for them, and children really need that more than anyone. Of course, you would probably do that for your Ryan. And I had my dear husband, who would have slain dragons for me.”

Megan didn’t see Ryan in the role of dragon slayer, but she wondered how far he’d go for her. Would he rush into a loft when he didn’t know if he’d be facing an armed intruder or a fat orange cat? Was Ryan a knight in shining armor? Or was Rafe? She stopped right there when a certain degree of jealousy came out of nowhere as she thought about Rafe protecting his wife. Megan pushed that aside, saying flippantly, “You’re a brave lady working here. I’ll stay in Legal.”

“Speaking of Legal,” Mary said. “I’m glad Mr. Lawrence sent you down.”

She was more than willing to concentrate on other things. “He told me that you had questions about the day care center incorporation, and asked me to come down to talk it over with you.”

“And you ran into a tornado,” she said with a slight smile.

“Two of them,” Megan murmured, then reached for her briefcase. “I’m here, so ask your questions.”

“It’s quite confusing, the fund-raising for the charity ball and the attempt to break the day care center’s legal ties with LynTech. I admit to not really having the understanding of the process that I should.”

The door behind Megan opened, and she turned quickly, a bit giddy with relief that Rafe wasn’t there. An older man with snow-white hair, looking very dapper in a well-cut navy suit, was walking into the office. She’d only seen him twice before, once when he’d come to the San Francisco offices and once at the ball, both times from a distance. This was Robert Lewis, the founder of LynTech.

When he saw Megan, he smiled and walked closer with his hand extended. “Hello there. Miss Gallagher, isn’t it?”

She had no idea how he knew her name, but she stood, tossed the broken earpiece onto the desk and, clutching the ice bag in her left hand, shook hands with him. “Hello, Mr. Lewis.”

“It’s good to have you on board,” he said, then frowned slightly at her forehead. “My, that looks like a nasty bump. I do hope you’re okay.”

“It’s okay, just a little mishap.”

“Good, good,” he said as he let her hand go and glanced past her at Mary. “Mary, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I needed to speak with you right away.”

The woman hesitated, and Megan thought she saw a slight flush on her cheeks. “Can’t it wait?” she asked.

Mr. Lewis shook his head. “Actually, no, it can’t. I only have ten minutes before I need to get to a meeting that might take the rest of the day. This is my only opportunity to get down here.” He glanced at Megan. “Would you be so kind as to give us a few minutes?”

Megan looked at Mary. “Go ahead,” the woman said, but didn’t look happy with the change in plans.

“Okay. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, if that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” Mr. Lewis said, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking right at Mary.

Megan grabbed her briefcase and the bag of ice, then left quickly. As she turned to pull the door shut behind her, she saw the two people in the room. Mr. Lewis was going around the desk to where Mary was standing, shaking her head and ignoring the hand he held stretched toward her. “If this is about Ray, I don’t want to—” The door clicked shut and Mary’s words were cut off.

So Ellen had been right about Mr. Lewis and Mary Garner, Megan realized. Stranger things had happened, she thought as she walked out into the main room.

The chaos from moments ago had subsided and the children were gathered in two quiet groups. Older kids she’d seen before were gone, and only tiny children remained, ranging from infants, who were sleeping, to three- or four-year-olds. One group was focused on a TV cartoon, and the other group was sitting in a circle with the teenage girl she’d seen before, being read to out of a huge book with a blue train engine on the cover.

Megan spotted the twins in the second group, both of them listening with rapt attention to the story while they leaned against each other, connected in some nonphysical way that even she could sense.
A twin thing,
she mused, followed by the thought that, now that they were quiet and still, they looked shockingly angelic. That almost made her laugh. She knew it wasn’t the case.

She crossed the room, going past their group, and Gabe, the attacker, glanced up at her as if he sensed her presence. She found herself smiling hesitantly at him, and was stunned when the child smiled shyly back, the dimple deepening. In that instant, he was the spitting image of his father.

She had no idea why that expression made her feel slightly breathless as she kept going toward the exit to make her escape. Escape? That’s what it felt like, as if she was getting out through the double entry doors to the center to be able to breathe again and think clearly.

* * *

R
AFE
SAW
M
EGAN
FROM
the corner of his eye as she left the center. She was almost out of his peripheral vision, but he knew it was her. Then he glanced away from Brad, another security guard, and looked right at her as she stepped into the elevators. She still had the bag of ice in one hand and her briefcase in the other. As angry as he’d felt at her opinions about the boys, he still had a sneaking suspicion that she was just plain out of her depth with children.