The Daddy Verdict

“I’m still not sure why you came to me about the pregnancy, Sierra. I’m not sure what you want.”

Sierra was afraid to admit what she wanted. She was afraid to admit that making love with Ben Barclay had wiped away everything that had gone before. Had made her lose herself. Had encouraged her to dream again.

“I told you because you had a right to know. If you want to walk away, that’s fine. I’ll raise this baby on my own.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ben assured her. “I intend to be a full-fledged father. We’ll figure this out, Sierra. It will just take some time.”

Figure out how involved they were going to be in each other’s lives? Figure out if he wanted to be involved in the pregnancy?

Figure out if one night could have been filled with more than desire?

Karen Rose Smith has seen more than sixty novels published since 1991. Living in Pennsylvania with her husband—who was her college sweetheart—and their two cats, she has been writing full-time since the start of her career. Lately, in addition to writing, she has been crafting jewellery with her husband. She finds designing necklaces and bracelets relaxing enough to let her mind weave plots while she’s beading! Readers can receive updates and excerpts for Karen’s latest releases and write to her through her website at www.karenrosesmith.com, or send mail to PO Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA.

The Daddy Verdict

By

Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my father, Angelo Jacob Cacciola,

who taught me how to build model ships

and play blackjack.

I miss you, Daddy.

Chapter One

“I only came here today because…because I’m pregnant.” Sierra Girard’s blue eyes were wide and vulnerable as her words echoed in Ben Barclay’s office.

One thought flashed through his mind—they hadn’t used a condom. That oversight had been a first for him.

“Why did you leave without a word?” he asked, feeling as if she’d punched him in the gut with her announcement. Six weeks ago they’d met at a party and had ended up spending the night together…well, most of a night.

Her wavy brown hair fell across her shoulder as she looked down at the purse in her hands, then back up at him. “I left in the middle of the night because we got caught up in the heat of the moment. Because neither of us was looking for what happened. You told me your work was your life…that your job as assistant district attorney took all of your waking hours and many of your sleeping ones.”

Pregnant. Sierra was pregnant! Ben was suddenly angry at himself and angry with her.

His expression must have shown some of what he was feeling because she murmured, “I never should have come.” Turning, she left his office, slipping quickly into the hall.

Instinct made him move like lightning. He grasped her arm.

They both froze, startled once more by the electricity that had drawn them together.

Finally Sierra pulled from his hold. “This isn’t your problem. It’s mine. I just thought you might like to know.”

He and Sierra had started talking at the engagement party of mutual friends. That night her smile had curved around his cynical defenses, breaking down barriers that had been cemented in place for years. Desire had exploded, burning away common sense. After they’d had sex, work exhaustion had caught up to him. He’d fallen asleep…and she’d disappeared.

A colleague walked down the hall and tossed Ben a quizzical look.

“Come back inside,” Ben suggested, purposefully keeping his tone calm.

When Sierra hesitated, he added, “You’re not going to pull a vanishing act on me again.”

“You could have gotten my number from Camille or Miguel if you wanted to reach me,” she chided softly.

Had she wanted him to search her out?

Why would he want to pursue a woman who’d left without a word or a note? Why would he want to pursue a woman, period? They all left. He knew that too well. His mother had deserted his father, along with him and his two brothers. And after Ben had hit thirty and decided coming home to a woman would be better than returning to an empty apartment, he’d started dating Lois. However, a year and a half later, she’d broken off their relationship because he was too dedicated to his work. She’d been seeing someone else at the public relations firm where she worked while he was working! “Love” only had meaning to him in how it related to family. There was no such thing as happily ever after or vows that lasted forever.

Intrigued by Sierra as he had been since they’d met, he asked, “Did you leave that night so I’d chase you?”

“No,” she protested so quickly he almost believed her. Then she went on, “I don’t tumble into bed with a man every time I go to an engagement party. That night—”

She stopped to gather words that seemed to elude her. “I’d never done anything like that before! I was confused afterward. When you didn’t bother to get my number and call, I knew you weren’t interested.”

Sierra Girard was so beautiful in an innocent, twenty-four-year-old kind of way. He was only thirty-five, but the eleven years’ difference seemed more like thirty to him right now. He’d seen things she couldn’t imagine in her worst nightmares. The folders on his desk were full of pictures he hoped she’d never see.

“Why did you really leave the hotel room that night?”

“I thought I was doing the best thing for both of us,” she replied with what sounded like sincerity. “That way we didn’t have to be embarrassed or awkward, or figure out how to say goodbye.”

“Do you always run from awkward situations?” He really didn’t know much about her. Just that she and Camille were good-enough friends for her to be Camille’s maid of honor.

At Sierra’s pointed silence, Ben raked his hand through his black hair, deciding to let that question go so he could ask something more pertinent. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yes, I have.”

“What are you going to do about the pregnancy?”

Where before Sierra had seemed almost pale to him, her cheeks took on color now. “I will not get an abortion.”

“I’m not asking you to consider it.” He took a step closer to her, then wished he hadn’t because he inhaled her rose-scented perfume. It had driven him crazy at the party the whole time they’d talked, as well as the whole time they’d been naked together. “I just want to know if you can be sure this child is mine.”

“It’s your baby,” she replied quietly. At his silence, she asked, “You don’t believe me?”

His poker face must not have been as neutral as he thought. He was short on trust these days, especially where women were concerned, and it must have showed.

“Okay, Ben.” Fumbling with the catch on her purse, Sierra reached inside and pulled out a business card. “Here. Now you have my number and the address of my shop. Our baby is due at the end of May. Give me a call if you want to be involved in being a parent. If not, I understand.”

Before he could take a breath, Sierra hurried into the hall, her sandals clicking on the tile.

As he watched the sway of her hair across her back, the loose folds of her gauzy dress swinging around her legs, he knew he should call after her…go after her…bring her back to his office until they settled something. But he didn’t do any of those things. As one of the most level-headed, steadiest assistant district attorneys in Albuquerque’s violent crimes unit, he was shocked to realize he was shaken to his core.

He was going to be a dad!

He had to figure out a plan of action before he talked to Sierra again. He had to figure out if she was sincere, or if she might be trying to use him because she wanted monetary support for a child that might not even be his.

The phone on his desk rang.

Knowing Sierra had probably reached the elevator by now, Ben hurried to pick up the receiver, not at all sure tackling this situation with her would be any easier than prosecuting his hardest case.

Sierra gripped the phone Saturday afternoon as she waited for her aunt’s reaction.

“So you told him yesterday and he said…” Gina Ruiz prompted her niece from across the globe.

Sierra paced back and forth behind the counter of her shop, Beaded for You, on the outskirts of Old Town, Albuquerque. Her aunt Gina was questioning her with the fierce protectiveness of a mother. Her aunt had been more of a parent than either of her parents ever had, and Sierra loved her for it.

“He was…shocked.”

“I suppose that’s good. That means something like this doesn’t happen to him every day.”

In spite of Sierra’s queasy stomach, which always seemed to become unsettled midafternoon, she had to smile. “I should hope not. I never would have ended up in bed with him if I’d thought—”

She stopped, realizing what she had just said. This was her aunt, for goodness sake, not Camille.

“What happened, Sierra? This kind of thing isn’t like you at all. You told me Ben Barclay is going to be Miguel’s best man, but you don’t really know him, do you? Did he take advantage of you in some way? Put something in your drink? Did you have too many glasses of wine to celebrate Camille and Miguel’s engagement?”

Sierra remembered her first glimpse of Ben at the party. Oh, he was handsome all right, with black hair, thick brows, defined cheekbones and a jaw that looked very stern, except when he smiled. When his gray eyes had held hers for a long moment across the room, she’d felt…breathless, and had been unsettled by the tingles that had danced down her spine. With good reason. She didn’t date because the memories of her fiancé and the selflessness that had gotten him killed were still too fresh at times.

But, as Sierra knew, fate wasn’t something you could control. After she and Ben had been introduced, they’d begun a conversation about his work, about her shop. The room had gotten very noisy. She’d sensed he liked quiet as much as she did when he’d invited her to his room. She’d never expected their conversation would lead to bed.

“Sierra?”

“Aunt Gina, he was the perfect gentleman. I mean, it was both of us. It just happened. I’m not sure why or how. It just did.”

“Do you want me to come home?”

Sierra’s mother and father were anthropologists who traveled the world. Although they’d kept her with them when she was small, she’d always known she was secondary to whatever they shared, including their work. Her mother found nannies and teachers for her and often brought her back to New Mexico to spend weeks or months with her aunt.

Sierra had always felt extraneous. Once on a visit home, she’d heard her parents arguing with her aunt, her mother’s sister, about her need for normal high school years, a chance to socialize with children her own age and make bonds that would last longer than six months or a year. When Aunt Gina had invited Sierra to live with her for her four years of high school, Sierra had accepted joyfully, and would always be filled with gratitude for that time of her life.

Now her aunt was in Greece, a trip she had planned for most of her adult life. Sierra wasn’t going to make her cut it short.

“There’s no need for you to come home. Honestly, I’m fine. I really am. Camille and Miguel are here and so are other friends. I’ll be busy with Camille’s wedding next weekend.”

“But who will look after you when they’re away? What if you have a problem?”

“I can look after myself. My doctor’s a phone call away. Honestly, Aunt Gina, please don’t worry.”

The security bell dinged as her shop door opened. Ben Barclay walked in!

“Aunt Gina, Ben just came in. I have to go.”

“Don’t let him make decisions for you,” her aunt warned.

“I won’t.”

“Call me again soon.”

“I will. I love you,” she murmured into the cell phone, and after her aunt returned the sentiment, Sierra closed it.

With the brilliant New Mexico sun behind Ben, he stood in shadow until he approached the counter. His gaze assessed the space quickly—the glass cases filled with beaded jewelry created of lapis and tiger eye, turquoise and Venetian glass. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he thought, but she’d already learned that was normal for an encounter with Ben. Dressed in black cargo pants and a rust-and-black Henley shirt, he looked every bit as handsome as he had in his suit. She couldn’t keep other pictures from clicking through her mind—broad bare shoulders, curling black chest hair, powerful muscles…

Sierra warned herself not to expect anything from him. There was an edge to him that she suspected came from his work—all-encompassing work, like her fiancé’s had been. Travis had been a doctor, and his vocation had been to save lives. Ben saved lives, too, in a different way. He put the bad guys away so they couldn’t hurt anyone again. But his work had been another reason she’d left his room so quickly that night. Right or wrong, dedicated men didn’t put the people they loved first.

Ben approached the sales counter where she stood. “At the party you told me you make jewelry. Which are yours?” He was obviously starting with soft conversation before they delved into the tough stuff.

“I made all of it. At least when I get insomnia, I have something to do,” she joked, though it was hard to come up with a smile, wondering why he’d come and what he would say.

Ben’s gray eyes took in everything about her, from her turquoise blouse to her brown gaucho pants. They came back to rest on her necklace, the long dangle of beads that rested between the plackets of her blouse. “Did you make that?”

His gaze on her melted her insides as she nodded. When he’d made love to her, nothing had existed except the two of them.

His thumb ran over a turquoise nugget, then the round coral beads beneath it. “You’re a talented woman.”

“I just have a knack for putting together colors and shapes.”

Dropping the dangle as if it were suddenly too hot to handle, he said, “I want to be part of my baby’s life…if this child is my baby.”

In some ways she knew life would be easier and less complicated if she parented their child alone. Still, she answered, “It is.”

He scrutinized her for a long moment. “We’ll have a DNA test done after the baby’s born. But until then, I want to know what’s happening. Do you need financial assistance?”

His jaw had set after he asked the question, and Sierra wondered if he believed she was just after money. “I don’t need help.”

“Do you have insurance?”

“Yes, I do. I didn’t come to you because I wanted anything.”

“You just thought I should know?”

The repetition of her reasoning sounded lame when he said it, but it was the truth. “I have an appointment with my obstetrician Thursday after next. If you’re interested in meeting her, if you have questions…”

She trailed off, feeling they were moving toward an intimacy she wasn’t ready for. And it had nothing to do with having sex. The intimacy involved becoming parents together.

“I have a trial coming up, but if there’s any way I can be at your appointment, I will. Just let me know when and where.”

This was so awkward. She’d never dated much. By the time she’d gone to public high school, the other girls were way ahead of her with their flirting skills. She’d always just wanted to meet someone who would understand her…whom she could understand. Travis had been the one. Even though her aunt had told her she was too young to get seriously involved at twenty, her parents, on the other hand, had told her to follow her heart. She had.

“What are you thinking about?” Ben asked, and she realized memories must have shone in her eyes.

“I was thinking about what brought me here.”

“To Albuquerque?”

“No, not exactly. To age twenty-four, having the shop, meeting you and now getting pregnant.”

He waited for a moment as if to see if she’d say more. But she didn’t. She didn’t know him well enough. She’d been so foolish to let unexpected desire lead her here.

“You said you live with your aunt. Do you have other family in Albuquerque?”

She shook her head. “No. My parents are in Africa right now. And even my aunt—” She stopped, not knowing how many personal details she wanted to give him.

“Your aunt?”

“She’s traveling. She’ll be back in a few weeks.”

“Does she know about the pregnancy?”

“I called her this afternoon. I wanted to tell you first.”

That seemed to give him pause. “How about Camille?”

“If we have any alone time before the wedding, I’ll tell her. But if not, I’ll wait until she returns from her honeymoon.”

“Are you planning to stay overnight at the hacienda after the wedding?”

Miguel Padilla’s parents lived in a hacienda outside of Santa Fe. That’s where the wedding was going to be held, though the reception would be celebrated at the inn where Sierra and Ben had attended the engagement party. “I’ll be staying over. Camille’s mother wants to talk to me about Christmas presents she’d like me to make for her nieces. What about you?”

“I hadn’t decided yet, but now I’m beginning to think it might be a good idea. In fact, we could go together.”

That suggestion urged her to take a deep breath. “Together?”

“We’re going to have decisions to make. Don’t you think it would be a good idea if we got to know each other?”

Sierra really hadn’t thought past telling Ben the news about the pregnancy, simply because she hadn’t known what his reaction would be…or how he’d feel about fatherhood. Maybe the weekend would provide them with a good opportunity to figure out whether or not they could parent together.

When she didn’t answer right away, he frowned. “Look, if that’s too complicated—”

“No. No, it’s not. I just…I hadn’t thought past telling you I was pregnant. I thought you’d want nothing to do with me and the baby.”

“How did you get that impression?”

“Your career takes up most of your time. Besides, this isn’t the kind of responsibility a man takes on willingly.”

“You assumed I wouldn’t be willing.”

“I suppose I did.”

The silence floated around them like the dust motes in the sunlight. Finally, Ben concluded, “Maybe after next weekend we’ll both know each other better.”

There was something about Ben that drew Sierra toward him. It also made her a little afraid. Not physically afraid or anything like that…just afraid because he looked at her with so many questions, as if she wasn’t telling him the truth. He looked at her as if she were on one side of the fence and he was on the other. Maybe her imagination was just going wild and he wasn’t as complicated as she thought he was.

Just as she’d done in his office, he took a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “My cell phone number’s on there. You can always reach me. I’ll give you a call later in the week and we’ll set up a time for Saturday.”

She nodded. As he turned to leave, she called his name. “Ben?”

He faced her once more.

“Thanks for making this a little easier.”

“We’ll see how easy it is once we get deeper into it.” Then he left her shop.

Had she made a mistake agreeing to go to the wedding with him? She could back out, tell him she wanted to drive herself.

But that would be the cowardly thing to do. She wasn’t a coward.

Chapter Two

“Are you ready?” Ben asked in that way he had of appraising Sierra that made her feel turned inside out.

Flustered and nervous after opening her door to him, she asked herself for the umpteenth time why she’d agreed to drive with him to Santa Fe for Camille and Miguel’s wedding. “Sure am. I just have to grab my duffel bag and gown. Come on in.”

Friendly. She’d just be friendly and polite and keep her distance. But that was difficult when excitement tingled through her from studying him in his black polo shirt and khaki slacks.

She stood aside to let him in.

As soon as he stepped into the casita’s small living room, she realized just how hard keeping her distance would be. Tall, fit and broad-shouldered, Ben seemed to take up the entire room.

“This is nice,” he remarked, assessing the space. A tan ceramic-tiled counter separated the appliances from a table for four and a hutch displaying artifacts. The house had an alarm to protect them and other treasures her aunt had gathered over the years.

“It’s been my home as much as any place has,” Sierra admitted.

“You said you lived with your aunt when you attended high school.”

Apparently he’d listened and remembered. “Yes, and since I returned to Albuquerque a few years ago.” She went to the sofa to pick up her garment bag.

“You didn’t say much about where you lived before returning here.”

Avoiding his gaze, she lifted her duffel. “We can talk about that in the car if you want to get going.”

Before she could guess what he was going to do, his hand reached out for her bag. “I’ll take that.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she joked.

He stood very close, so close she could catch the scent of his aftershave. “I imagine you are. But if you want to lock the door, you’ll need a free hand.”

He was right and one step ahead of her.

Somehow in passing the duffel’s strap to him, their hands brushed. His skin was hot, slightly rough. She remembered exactly how his hands had felt on her skin.

When their gazes collided, neither of them breathed for a moment. But then Ben motioned to the door. “Ladies first.” His expression was unreadable as she set the alarm, then stepped outside.

After he stowed her duffel on the floor in the backseat of his SUV, he hung her gown across from his tuxedo. Sierra had already fastened her seat belt when he climbed in. He stared at her for a few seconds and didn’t start the ignition.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m surprised you don’t have more luggage.”

“We’re just going overnight.”

“Yeah, but with the wedding and all…”

What had he expected? A huge cosmetics case, a suitcase filled with alternate outfits? “I’m a traveler, remember? I’ve learned to pack light.”

“You’re one of the few women on earth who can do that.” He turned the key.

“Actually, my mother is another. That’s one handy trait she taught me.”

After he pulled out onto the street, he drove to the intersection. But at the stoplight, he glanced at her again. “You said your parents were anthropologists and you traveled with them until you came back here to live with your aunt while you were in high school.”

“That’s right.”

“You were an only child?”

“I was.”

“Then why did they let you return here to live during your most formative years? Why didn’t they want to see you go out on your first date, drive your first car, attend a prom?”

Ben might have an edge sometimes—she’d sensed a cynicism about him from the moment she’d met him—but he was much too perceptive, too. Had that talent come from perfecting interrogation skills? Or from trying to read witnesses and criminals?

“My parents are a little unusual.”

“How so?” He turned onto a main street and headed for I-25.

In the past she’d never let anyone but her aunt see how her childhood years had affected her, how lonely she’d been, how the feeling of not being wanted superseded all others. Now that she’d set foot in this conversation, she didn’t know quite how to step out of it.

Sticking to the basics, she explained, “My parents were totally engrossed in their careers.”

“Lots of parents are,” he remarked.

“I suppose so.”

Ben wasn’t going to let that be the end of it. “So how did their preoccupation with their careers affect you?”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

Again he tossed her a quick look. “No, just trying to understand your background.”

“Are you going to tell me about yours? I mean, I know you’re from Minnesota, but that’s about it.”

“Are you evading my question?”

She had to remember she was dealing with a lawyer, a man who was used to getting answers. She had the feeling he wouldn’t give up until he did.

After another few moments of hesitation, she agreed, “Yes, lots of parents are engrossed in their careers. That’s true. But to explain my parents’ lives…” She hesitated again.

He waited, expecting her to go on.

She could just clam up, but if they were in this for the long haul, she should give him a hint of what her childhood had been. “You told me your work is demanding and you’re busy even nights and weekends.”

“I did.”

“Well, imagine this. Imagine that you married another A.D.A. whose dedication and work ethic was the same as yours. On top of that, imagine that you worked with her on every case, all day, every day. Then picture your wife having a baby and the two of you still wanting to work every case together and wanting to go back to the way things were before the baby was born.”

He went silent for at least a half mile until they veered off the main road onto the interstate and headed for Santa Fe. Finally, he offered, “If I imagined that scenario, then I’d also imagine a nanny raising the baby, right?”

“Mom and Dad were researchers, so I had lots of nannies.” Usually native women whom she’d come to love and respect. But she’d felt so separated from her mom and dad as they’d interviewed villagers, discussed their theories, written up their findings.

Ben’s mouth tightened. “Where were you born?”

“In France. My father was French and his mother was living then. From the accounts I’ve heard, my parents went there in my mom’s ninth month and we stayed for three months after I was born.”

“And then?”

“Then they went to Africa, then Bali, India and South America.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

“A few.”

“I’ll bet! So what happens in a child’s head when she settles in and then has to move again—someplace strange and foreign where she doesn’t even know the language—and her parents are preoccupied with their careers?”

No matter how she’d tried to be factual and not emotional, Ben had focused on the undercurrent. “I lived in books if I had access to them. When I didn’t, I learned the crafts of the people we lived with.”

“Crafts. You mean like cooking, making clay pots?”

“Basket making, weaving, dying yarn, etching, whittling. You name it, I’ve probably done it.” Definitely wanting to change the topic, she asked, “Are you close to your family?”

“‘Close’ is a relative term, but yes, I think I am. We call one another when we need something. I go home for holidays when I can.”

“The night of Camille and Miguel’s engagement party, you mentioned your dad and going ice fishing with him. What about your mom?”

The silence that invaded the car at Sierra’s question told her more than any words could that Ben’s childhood hadn’t been perfection, either. “She left when I was six.”

“Left your dad?”

“Left my dad, Nathan, Sam, me and Rapid Creek.”

She could tell this wasn’t territory Ben traveled often, either. To push or not to push. If she knew more about his background, she might understand him better, right?

“Where did she go?”

“It’s not important. She just went. Dad wiped her out of our lives. He finally told us she’d died when Nathan went to college.”

“And you didn’t know?” Sierra was absolutely shocked.

“When she left, she didn’t stay in touch.”

Although Ben was obviously trying to keep his tone neutral, she heard bitterness and she stopped asking questions. They’d both shared enough for one session.

It was so much easier to concentrate on the scenery she loved. New Mexico was absolutely her favorite place on earth. No sky seemed as blue, no clouds seemed as close, no cliffs seemed quite as awe-inspiring. From the Sandia Mountains northeast of Albuquerque to the Sangre de Cristos east of Santa Fe, from the piñon pines along the Rio Grande to the sage, coyote fences and adobes, New Mexico made her feel as if she fit here in a way she didn’t fit anywhere else. Maybe it was because her aunt lived here and her aunt had been the one loving, guiding, gentle force for her whole life. Yet her aunt wasn’t the only reason. There was something about the creative spirit here that just enveloped Sierra in loving arms.

Obviously also wanting to end their conversation for now, Ben switched on the CD player. Strings of an acoustic guitar and flute floated into the car. It was the kind of music she liked, too. Did she and Ben have common interests?

She doubted it more and more as the miles passed and he didn’t speak. He seemed to be miles away, and she suspected he wasn’t thinking about the wedding.

Sierra left Ben to his thoughts for the remainder of the drive. She refused to think beyond today. She was going to enjoy her best friend’s wedding and try to find out more about Ben. But something told her finding out more about him might lead her someplace she didn’t want to go. With him beside her in the car, it was hard to escape memories of the night they’d shared. But for now, she had to put them aside. She had to think clearly. She couldn’t let the sight of his strong hands on the steering wheel remind her of how those hands had made her feel.

She was almost relieved when they took the road to the Padilla family’s hacienda. The black, wrought-iron gates were open, welcoming them. A sprawling peach adobe house nestled against the hills while a tiered fountain in the front courtyard bubbled and streamed.

They’d almost reached the protective arch above the door when the heavy oak portal opened and Camille came running out. She embraced Sierra and then saw Ben holding Sierra’s gown and duffel. “What’s this? Did you two come together?”

Before Sierra could answer, Ben replied, “It seemed the practical thing to do.”