Reluctant Dad Read online

  PRAISE FOR BESTSELLING AUTHOR CARLA CASSIDY:

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Carla Cassidy

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  PRAISE FOR BESTSELLING AUTHOR CARLA CASSIDY:

  “Carla Cassidy never fails to deliver a fast-paced, entertaining story with endearing characters who’ll linger with you long after you finish the book.”

  —Bestselling author Barbara Bretton

  “...a writer who alternately warms your heart and scares you to death, but never forgets the love story.”

  —The Toronto Star

  “...Ms. Cassidy’s appealing characterizations will win your heart.”

  —Romantic Times

  “...a very talented author.”

  —Rendezvous

  “Readers can always count on Ms. Cassidy to give them a story filled with tenderness.”

  —Genie Romance and Women’s Fiction Exchange

  Dear Reader,

  Have you noticed our special look this month? I hope so, because it’s in honor of something pretty exciting: Intimate Moments’ 15th Anniversary. I’ve been here from the beginning, and it’s been a pretty exciting ride, so I hope you’ll join us for three months’ worth of celebratory reading. And any month that starts out with a new book by Marie Ferrarella has to be good. Pick up Angus’s Lost Lady; you won’t be disappointed. Take one beautiful amnesiac (the lost lady), introduce her to one hunky private detective who also happens to be a single dad (Angus), and you’ve got the recipe for one great romance. Don’t miss it.

  Maggie Shayne continues her superselling miniseries THE TEXAS BRAND with The Husband She Couldn’t Remember. Ben Brand had just gotten over the loss of his wife and started to rebuild his life when...there she was! She wasn’t dead at all. Unfortunately, their problems were just beginning. Pat Warren’s Stand-In Father is a deeply emotional look at a man whose brush with death forces him to reconsider the way he approaches life—and deals with women. Carla Cassidy completes her SISTERS duet with Reluctant Dad, while Desire author Eileen Wilks makes the move into Intimate Moments this month with The Virgin and the Outlaw. Run, don’t walk, to your bookstore in search of this terrific debut. Finally, Debra Cowan’s back with The Rescue of Jenna West, her second book for the line.

  Enjoy them all, and be sure to come back again next month for more of the best romantic reading around—fight here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

  Yours,

  Leslie J. Wainger

  Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator

  * * *

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  * * *

  RELUCTANT DAD

  CARLA CASSIDY

  Books by Carla Cassidy

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  One of the Good Guys #531

  Try To Remember #560

  Fugitive Father #604

  Behind Closed Doors #778

  †Reluctant Wife #850

  †Reluctant Dad #856

  Silhouette Romance

  Patchwork Family #818

  Whatever Alex Wants... #856

  Fire and Spice #884

  Homespun Hearts #905

  Golden Girl #924

  Something New #942

  Pixie Dust #958

  The Littlest Matchmaker #978

  The Marriage Scheme #996

  Anything for Danny #1048

  *Deputy Daddy #1141

  *Mom in the Making #1147

  *An Impromptu Proposal #1152

  *Daddy on the Run #1158

  Pregnant with His Child... #1259

  *The Baker Brood

  †Sisters

  Silhouette Desire

  A Fleeting Moment #784

  Under the Boardwalk #882

  Silhouette Shadows

  Swamp Secrets #4

  Heart of the Beast #11

  Silent Screams #25

  Mystery Child #61

  Silhouette Books

  Shadows ‘93

  “Devil and the Deep Blue Sea”

  Silhouette Yours Truly

  Pop Goes the Question

  The Loop

  Getting it Right: Jessica

  CARLA CASSIDY

  had her first Silhouette novel, Patchwork Family, published in September of 1991, and since that time she has written over twenty-five novels for five Silhouette lines. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to her readers.

  Chapter 1

  Dead. Her husband was dead. Melissa Newman stumbled backward and bumped into the dresser as a scream tried to release itself. She heard the sound of whimpering and realized with a start that the noise came from her.

  Swallowing hard, she fought for control, fought to keep out of the clutches of hysteria. She knew she needed to do something, call someone, but her mind refused to work. What had happened? How had this happened?

  She staggered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Leaning weakly against the wall, she picked up the telephone. Without conscious thought, she punched in the number for her sister’s office. Samantha would know what to do.

  “Justice Inc.” A deep male voice she didn’t recognize answered the phone at the law firm.

  “Samantha—I need to talk to Samantha,” Melissa said. Sobs welled up inside her as horror began to penetrate the fog of shock.

  “She’s not here right now. Can I take a message?”

  Melissa moaned. “Where is she? This is her sister. I—I need her.”

  “Melissa, this is Dominic Marcola. Samantha and Tyler drove into Kansas City for dinner and a movie. I don’t expect them to be back for several hours.” There was a moment of hesitation. “Is there something I can do to help?”

  Although Melissa didn’t know Dominic well, her need was too great to wait for her sister and brother-in-law’s return. “He’s dead,” she blurted. “Please, you’ve got to help me...do something. He’s dead.”

  “Who? Who’s dead?”

  “Bill. Bill’s dead. He took a nap and when I went in to wake him, he was dead...stabbed. My husband’s been murdered.” The sobs she’d been holding back, swallowing against, overcame her.

  “Melissa, don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.”

  Before she could reply, Dominic hung up. She replaced the receiver, horror once again seeping through her as she saw the bloodstains her fingers left on the phone.

  She swiped her hand down the front of her dress, her mind struggling to comprehend everything. Bill was dead. Someone had snuck into the house while she’d been at the store, or while she’d been lying down in the living room.

  Melissa went to the sink and washed her hands. Over and over again she lathered and rinsed, lathered and rinsed. Dead. He was dead. A knife protruded from his chest and blood pooled on the front of his shirt.

  Who could have killed him? How had they gotten in? Questions began to penetrate her numbness. Why? Oh, God, perhaps this was a dream. Maybe she was still napping on the sofa and this was all just a ghastly nightmare.

  She touched her swollen stomach when the baby suddenly twiste
d and turned as if to confirm this wasn’t a dream. She wouldn’t suddenly wake up and find herself next to Bill in bed, his snores filling the silence of the room.

  Although she should be afraid, she wasn’t. She’d been asleep on the sofa for almost an hour. If someone had wanted to harm her, he would have had a perfect opportunity.

  But Bill was dead. Dead. The word reverberated in her head as waves of horror washed over her. And the worst horror of all was the sudden recognition that in some deep part of herself, what she felt was pure relief—a relief bordering on joy.

  Dominic Marcola had a bad feeling in his gut. He drove down Main Street of the small town of Wilford, Kansas, toward the northern outskirts where Samantha’s sister and her husband lived. He’d gotten the exact address from Samantha’s Rolodex.

  Melissa had been crying hysterically when he’d hung up on her, but from her disjointed statements, he’d managed to get the gist of the situation.

  Bill Newman was dead. Murdered. Dominic clenched his hands on the steering wheel. He’d hoped he could manage to work for Samantha and Tyler and the Justice Inc. law firm as a private investigator without getting involved in a murder case.

  Murder. He still suffered nightmares, still felt the mental and emotional wounds from having been on trial six months ago...for the murder of his exgirlfriend.

  The last place he wanted to be was driving to the scene of another homicide. But he knew Samantha would want him to respond to her sister’s hysterical call. And he would do anything for Samantha and Tyler Sinclair. They’d taken his own case pro bono and cracked it wide open, exposing the real killer and giving Dominic back his life.

  He frowned as he turned down the tree-lined county road that led to the Newman house. He’d only been out in this area once before. At that time he’d been a cop, summoned to respond to a break-in call. Then, as now, he noticed how isolated the houses were, how dark the night could be with no streetlights and little traffic.

  He turned into the Newman driveway, unsurprised to see light shining from every window and Melissa silhouetted in the open doorway.

  She stepped onto the front porch as he got out of his car. As always, and despite the dire circumstances, Dominic was instantly struck by her beauty. The porch light turned her pale hair into a golden halo and emphasized her delicate features. Though in an advanced stage of pregnancy, she remained thin, radiating fragility and vulnerability.

  It wasn’t until he drew closer that he saw the sickly pallor of her skin, the dark navy of her shadowed eyes, and the bright blood that stained the front of her dress.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she said as he reached the porch. She gripped his arm, her eyes fevered with emotion. “I...I didn’t know who to call...what to do.”

  “Where is he?” Dominic asked, gently disentangling her hand from his forearm.

  “In the master bedroom.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  Dominic led her into the house and motioned for her to sit on the sofa. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  He walked down the hallway toward the bedroom at the end, the one he assumed to be the master bedroom. Immediately his cop instincts took over, sweeping aside any emotional baggage that might interfere.

  He stepped into the room, instantly seeing the body on the bed. There was no denying that Bill was dead. Dominic touched nothing and backed out of the room so he wouldn’t compromise the crime scene.

  “Have you called the police?” he asked as he returned to the living room. Melissa shook her head. He’d assumed she’d know to call them. Dominic picked up the phone and dialed the number, knowing the police should have been called the instant she found the body.

  As he made the call, she got up from the sofa and walked to the window. With her back to him, she remained still, her gaze apparently transfixed on something in the darkness outside.

  He’d intentionally kept his distance from her whenever she’d come into the office to see her sister, knowing there was something about her that attracted him. A forbidden attraction. After all, she was married and carrying her husband’s child.

  After he summoned the police, he hung up the phone. He would do what needed to be done until Samantha and Tyler arrived, then he would put Melissa Dark Newman back where she belonged—out of his mind.

  She turned to look at him, her face still pale, her eyes huge. A trembling hand tucked a strand of her shining blond hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe this is happening. It all feels so unreal, like a nightmare. But I’m not dreaming, am I?” Her eyes searched his, as if begging him to tell her everything would be all right.

  But Dominic couldn’t tell her that. He knew this was just the beginning for her. Eventually her shock would pass and she would mourn her tragic loss. Eventually she would realize she’d lost the man she loved and would now be a single mother with a baby who would never know his father.

  But first there would be questions and suspicions. Dominic frowned, remembering the night he’d been arrested for Abigail’s murder. Hopefully Melissa wouldn’t have to go through the hell he’d endured. “Come sit down and tell me what happened,” he said as he motioned her back to the sofa.

  Like a zombie, she moved to the couch and sank down, looking small and vulnerable against the oversize cushions. “What happened? I don’t know what happened.”

  Dominic sat in the chair across from her. “Did Bill go to work today? Did he come home at the usual time?”

  She nodded. “He came home when he always does, at about four forty-five. He took a quick shower and changed his clothes, then stretched out on the bed for a nap. He always sleeps from five to six.”

  “Did he seem agitated, upset about anything?”

  “No.” The answer came after a moment’s hesitation and in the depths of her eyes he thought he saw the inkling of secrets. He looked away. He didn’t want to know her secrets. He didn’t want to know anything about her; he just wanted to know what had happened here.

  “No, he was fine,” she continued. “After he’d fallen asleep, I realized we were out of his favorite soda, so I made a quick trip to the store.”

  She closed her eyes and once again wrapped her arms around herself, as if cold to the bone. “I—I thought he was still sleeping when I got home. I sat down here to wait for him to wake up, but I fell asleep, too.” She opened her haunted eyes. “When I woke up I went in to wake him up for supper.” She shivered. “And that’s when I found him.”

  Dominic raked a hand through his hair. “You didn’t hear anything? No sound came from the bedroom at all?”

  “No. Nothing.” Her eyes held the yawning darkness of a survivor, one who didn’t quite understand why she was still alive while a loved one was dead.

  Dominic knew there was nothing he could say to erase that look from her eyes, no platitudes he could offer her. He knew, as an ex-cop, that the finger of suspicion would point first to her. Statistics proved that in the case of a homicide, the prime suspect was almost always the spouse.

  He knew from painful personal experience that Melissa’s life with Bill would be prodded and picked apart, explored and examined from every possible angle. Her privacy would be destroyed, her love for her husband exploited by the media and political glorys-eekers.

  Dominic’s thoughts were interrupted by the wail of sirens approaching the house.

  He fought the impulse to touch her, comfort her, to pull her into his arms. Melissa’s ride through hell was only just beginning.

  Within two hours, Bill’s body had been removed and the police had cordoned off the house with the familiar yellow tape that proclaimed to the world that a tragedy had occurred within.

  Melissa sat on the sofa as she’d been instructed by Detective Mawlins, one of the officers responding to the call. She still felt as if she was functioning in a fog. The only thing that stabbed through her daze was the relentless pain that had started in her lower back and upper thighs.

  “You don’t have to answer any que
stions,” Dominic said. “Maybe you should wait for Samantha and Tyler to get here before you speak with the officers.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “I don’t mind speaking with them. I want to do whatever I can to help them catch whoever did this.”

  They both turned as Detective Mawlins walked into the room. He nodded to Dominic, then sank onto the sofa next to Melissa. His eyes flickered to her swollen stomach. “You doing okay?” he asked, his deep voice curt.

  She nodded. She just wanted to get through this. Later she would cry for Bill—not because she loved him, not because she would miss him, but because no human being deserved what had happened to him.

  “I just need to ask you a few questions for now.” Detective Mawlins opened up a notepad and pulled a pen from the breast pocket of his suit. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning.”

  As Melissa explained what had happened, she was vaguely aware of Dominic pacing back and forth in silent disapproval. He’d made it clear that he thought she shouldn’t talk to the police without an attorney present, but Melissa wanted to do what she could to help.

  “What time did you go to the store?” Detective Mawlins asked when she’d finished her monologue of events.

  “I left here at about twenty after five and got back home at five forty-five.”

  “Did you see anyone at the store?”

  Melissa looked at the detective in surprise. “The cashier who checked me out. It was a young woman.”

  “Do you know her name?”

  “No. She was thin and...blond.”

  He nodded and scribbled something down on his pad. “Did you lock the door when you left here?”