Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(35)
Shaking off that rather revealing but unwelcome train of thought, she nodded her acceptance. “Okay, that’s fine. I understand you have important work back in the city, and you’ve certainly done more than enough while you’ve been here.”
She stopped herself just short of thanking him, but only because she was afraid that would fall too close to…well, thanking him, when he wasn’t really doing her any favors. Oh, he’d been wonderfully helpful, but not out of the goodness of his heart. Better to take what he’d so generously offered and get him out of town before he started calling in vouchers and demanding repayment in ways she was unwilling or unable to fulfill.
A slow smile started to spread across his features and her pulse jumped. That wasn’t a happy smile, it was an I-know-something-you-don’t-know, cat-who-swallowed-the-canary smile.
“What?” she asked, drawing back slightly in wariness.
“You think I’m going to just pick up and leave, don’t you?”
She had. Or perhaps she’d simply been hoping.
“It’s all right, I understand,” she said again. Sweeping an arm out to encompass their surroundings, she added, “This is all amazing, a wonderful start. Aunt Helen and I can certainly take over from here.”
That smile stretched further, flashing bright white teeth, and a feeling of dread washed over her.
“I’m sure you and Aunt Helen will do a great job in getting the ball rolling. But that will have to wait until after we get back.”
Vanessa blinked, replaying his words in her head. The feeling of dread started to dissipate, which was good…except that it seemed to be transforming into more of an all-over numbness that kept her brain from functioning properly.
She cleared her throat. “We?”
Marc inclined his head. “I want you and Danny to return to Pittsburgh with me so I can introduce my family to my son.”
Eleven
“No.”
Spinning on her heel, Vanessa stalked away, leaving Marc in the rippling wake of that cold, perfunctory response. Granted, he hadn’t expected her to jump with joy at the prospect of going back with him, but he’d thought she would at least be reasonable about it.
With a sigh of resignation, he followed her through the plastic-draped doorway and into the bakery side of the building. She was already out of sight, likely in the kitchen, which meant she’d been moving at a pretty good clip.
He lifted a hand to push through the swinging door only to have it push back toward him, nearly cracking him in the face. Aunt Helen’s blue eyes widened in startlement when she saw him, but she didn’t say a word, simply tipped up her chin and pranced off for the front counter.
No love lost there, he thought, stepping into the kitchen and finding Vanessa exactly where he expected—standing at one of the large central islands, seemingly busy and focused on more food preparation. Even if she hadn’t just walked away from him in a huff, he’d have known she was agitated by her jerky movements and the ramrod stiffness of her spine.
“Vanessa,” he began, letting the door swing closed behind him.
“No.”
She spat the word, then punctuated it with the slam of her rolling pin on the countertop. Cookie trays, cooling racks and miscellaneous utensils clattered against the stainless steel surface.
“No, Marc. No,” she repeated with equal fervor, turning on him, her white-knuckled fingers still clinging to one of the rolling pin handles. “I am not going back there with you. I am not walking into that museum you call a home and dealing with your mother, who will look down her aristocratic nose at me just like she always has. And how much more judgmental and condescending do you think she’ll be when you tell her I had a child out of wedlock? The fact that Danny is yours will be irrelevant. She’ll criticize me for not telling you the minute I found out I was pregnant. She’ll accuse me of going through with the divorce even though I knew I was carrying your baby, depriving you of time with your child and her of time with her grandchild. Of depriving the world of knowing about the existence of another great and wonderful Keller descendant.”
Since that was pretty much exactly what he’d accused her of when he’d first learned of Danny’s existence, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Especially knowing how haughty his mother could be at times.
Vanessa let out a breath, seeming to lose a bit of her steam. In a lower, more subdued tone, she said, “Either that, or she’ll deny Danny altogether. Declare he’s not really a Keller, because of course she’s always accused me of being a tramp, anyway. Or decide not to claim him as a Keller heir because we weren’t married at the time of his birth.”
She shook her head. “I won’t do it, Marc. I won’t go through that again and I sure as hell won’t put my son through it.”
Jaw clenching, he bit out, “He’s my son, too, Vanessa.”
“Yes,” she acquiesced with a short nod of her head, “which is why you should want to protect him, too. From everything, and everyone.”
Releasing the rolling pin, she put one hand flat to the island, the other on her hip and squared off, a mother bear ready and willing to protect her young, no matter what. “Danny is innocent. I won’t let anyone make him feel less than perfect, less than wonderful. Ever. Not even his own grandmother.”