do, yes. But I’ll say whatever you want, to save you embarrassment.”
“It’s too late for that, Connor. I do have one request, however.”
“If I can grant it, you know I will.”
“Like I said, at the moment I’m not sure of anything where you’re concerned. What I’d like to do is go with you to Tallahassee. You’re planning to consult this doctor in person, I assume.”
“I…uh…yes. I’ll take the tests. Mallory indicated she’d arrange with the hospital for me to visit Liddy. I have to see her, Claire.”
“Am I welcome?”
Connor felt the tension shrouding her question. He shouldn’t have hesitated, but he felt caught in a vise without fully knowing why. “Sure. No problem. We’ll ask this Dr. Dahl whether or not we should both visit Lydia. I’ll need a few days to set up an appointment.”
“Will you make the flight arrangements, or shall I?”
“I’ll do it. This is my—” he didn’t want to call his daughter a problem or a mistake, so he settled on a more neutral word “—my responsibility.”
“All right. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home now. You can come over around eleven tomorrow. That’ll give me a chance to warn my parents and also the minister before we begin phoning guests.”
“I repeat, I’m so sorry, Claire.”
She rose without a word. While he paid the bill, she walked out to the car.
If possible, the ride back to her cottage was more strained than the trip to the café had been. Both of them remained locked in private misery. Neither took the initiative of switching on the music that had previously softened the strain.
“Don’t bother getting out,” Claire said, when Connor stopped in front of her house. He did, anyway, and walked her to the door as was his habit. He bent to kiss her good-night, but she turned her head so that his lips only grazed her hair. Claire hurried inside, leaving him standing on a pitch-black porch.
Burying his hands in his pants pockets, Connor wandered slowly back to his car. He couldn’t blame Claire for how she felt. He’d hit her with a hell of a mess. But he’d told the truth when he said it was as great a shock to him.
CHAPTER THREE
“DO I LOOK ALL RIGHT?”
Connor shifted his eyes from a blueprint he’d pulled from his briefcase to Claire, who sat next to him on the commuter plane. “Great. You always look great.”
She fussed with a silk scarf nailed to the lapel of her suit by a brooch. Connor recognized it as the art deco pin he’d given her for her birthday. A gold cloud, crossed by a diamond-studded lightning bolt. He’d seen it in the window of a jewelry store and had hoped that Claire would appreciate the significance. “Hey, you’re wearing the pin.”
“Yes. So if any of your old friends in Tallahassee remark on it, I can point out your generosity.” Her fingers traced the sparkling stones. “What type of gifts did you used to buy Mallory?”
Connor’s brows drew in. “None. I could rarely spare a dime in those days.”
“Oh.” She leaned close and slid her arm through Connor’s.
He eyed her sideways. “Claire, this trip isn’t about Mallory. It has to do with a sick child who didn’t ask to come into this world. A child I helped create. That’s as hard for me to comprehend as it is for you.”
“I doubt that,” she murmured. “My mother, Lauren and Janine all took pretty pointed shots at your obvious switch in principles. They asked how you could claim to love me and never try to get me into bed when it’s obvious you had unprotected sex with another woman. Lauren said maybe we should both get blood tests.”
“Do we have to discuss this in public?” Connor flushed and glanced around surreptitiously. “And we never had unprotected sex,” he whispered. “Something must have happened.”
“Obviously!” Claire arched a penciled eyebrow. “Or maybe it’s not your kid at all.”
“You never saw baby pictures of me, Claire, because all my family albums were lost in the hurricane. Most of what we owned was lost. But if you get to see Liddy, the resemblance will be as plain to you as it is to me.”
“Maybe.” Claire pulled away, and Connor buried his nose in his work again.
Ten or so minutes passed before she nudged him. “I forgot to ask what hotel you booked us into. I should tell the station where I can be reached.”
“The two motels I contacted were completely booked. It’s Florida State University’s graduation, one of the hotel clerks told me. He said most of the better accommodations were already full.”
“Well, what are we going to do?”
“He also said there are always cancellations. And apparently hotels usually keep rooms in reserve for drop-ins. It’ll be okay, Claire. I didn’t have time to do an extensive search, but we can check some places when we arrive. Someone will have a couple of free rooms.”
“Two? Not just one?”
“Claire, if you’re questioning my commitment, sleeping together will only muddy the waters even more. Let’s get this ordeal behind us, then we’ll sit down and work through any remaining doubts before we reschedule the wedding.”
“Why are you always so damned logical, Connor? Haven’t you ever done anything on pure impulse?”
A period in his life when Mallory had drawn him into some pretty wacky, spur-of-the-moment outings flashed past Connor’s eyes. Images he quickly erased. “Not for a long time,” he said in all seriousness. “What you see is what you get, Claire. I hope you understand this is who you’d be marrying.”
She turned to stare out the window. “I thought I knew you.” She swung back. “Surely you realize that the curve you threw me two nights before my wedding—a day I’ve dreamed about since I was fourteen—would upset any woman? I don’t think I’m being unreasonable, Connor.”
“No. I just think you’re forgetting that the same curveball came out of left field and hit me, too.”
The plane took a decided dip. The stewardess announced their descent into Tallahassee, noting they were half an hour late. Connor returned the blueprint to his briefcase and placed the case under the seat in front of him. It wasn’t lost on him, however, that Claire neither agreed nor disagreed with his statement.
Collecting both their bags from the overhead bin, Connor stepped aside and let her lead the way off the plane.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked, seeming not to notice that he juggled her suitcase, cosmetic case, his duffel bag and a briefcase, while her hands were free.
With difficulty, he glanced at his watch. “My appointment with Dr. Dahl starts in twenty minutes. He’s sandwiched me in between a speech he had to give at the U and an afternoon surgery. We’ll have to go directly to his office instead of phoning hotels from here.”
“Go to the clinic with our bags? We’ll look like a couple of vagabonds.”
“Just me. I’m wearing jeans. You look like a million bucks, as usual. Come on,” he said, motioning over her head to one of the waiting cabdrivers.
Once he’d given the driver the address and they’d settled into the back seat, Connor took Claire’s hand. “It’ll be fine. We won’t see a soul who knows us or who’ll likely ever see us again. I’ll ask the clinic receptionist if you can use their phone book along with my cell phone to locate rooms. Cost is no object,” he added, having learned early on that Claire liked everything first-class.
“Really?” She perked up at that. “Okay, but you may be sorry. I may