The Tycoon's Proposition

He nodded solemnly.

“How ghastly.” Her voice shook. “For all of you.” After her quiet sobs subsided she said, “To think Richard died without even seeing his child born. Juanita will be inconsolable.”

With startling speed he reached for the pen in her hand.

When she realized his intentions, she placed the envelope on his leg once more.

He printed another message.

“Baby probably not his.”

“That’s what Captain Ortiz said. Juanita told him she’d been living with Richard for ten months.”

“Came to work for company four months ago.”

She pursed her lips. “Do you think it’s possible they got together someplace else first?”

Terri felt his hesitation before he wrote, “Prior job in Baton Rouge.”

“I doubt Juanita was ever in Louisiana. Dear God. When she hears the news that he died, it might bring on a miscarriage. At eight months, that would be so unbearably painful. I—I suffered two miscarriages, but at least they happened in the first trimester.”

Suddenly she felt his hand reach out to cover hers. He squeezed it gently and would pay a painful price, but the gesture sent a healing warmth through her body. She lifted her eyes. His brimmed with concern and compassion.

Terri was swept away by emotions so intense, she was afraid of them. Removing her hand she said, “D-do you have a rule about employees having to be married to work for you?”

He shook his head.

“I can’t figure out why Richard said he was still married to me on his job application.”

Once more he took the pen from her other hand and put the envelope against his leg. He wrote, “Wishful thinking.”

“No,” she declared in a firm voice.

After eyeing her for an overly long moment he put, “Have idea. Wait till I can talk.”

Guilt assailed her. For a moment she’d forgotten how absolutely miserable he was. His hand was probably killing him.

“Forgive me, Mr. Herrick. I’m sure all this writing couldn’t have been good for your burned palm. In fact I’m afraid I’ve worn you out with my questions. While you rest, I’m going back to the hotel. I have phone calls to make to Captain Ortiz and my family.”

She put the pen and envelope in her purse.

“Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

He tried to talk. It sounded like “come back.” His throat had to be a lot better, thank heaven.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow. On my way out, I’ll ask one of the sisters to look in on you. Now that you’ve unburdened yourself, there’s nothing more for you to worry about except getting well. Please try to sleep. Your family will be back here before you know it.”

As she turned to go, his phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” she volunteered.

Hurrying around the other side of the bed, she lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Leah?” a female voice questioned.

“No. This is Terri Jeppson.”

“Terri—” The other woman sounded shocked. “It’s Martha Shaw.”