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Paradise Page 74
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Meredith sobered, and decided to tell him the truth. “There is. I want it badly, Matt.”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
She hesitated, her thumb idly rubbing the new gold wedding band he wore on his finger, then she lifted her eyes to his. “I want to try to have another baby.”
His reaction was instantaneous and fierce. “No. Absolutely not. You weren’t going to risk it if you married Parker, and you’re not going to risk it for me!”
“Parker didn’t want children,” she countered. “And you did say,” she reminded him softly, “anything I want. And I do want that.”
Normally the look in her eyes would have melted him, but she’d explained to him in bed one night that the odds were high that she’d miscarry again late in her pregnancy. He already knew she’d almost died the last time, and the thought of risking that was absolutely beyond consideration. “Don’t do this to me,” he warned, his voice terse and pleading.
“There are obstetricians who specialize in women who have problem pregnancies. I went to the library yesterday, and did a lot of reading about it. There are new drugs and some new techniques they’re trying out—”
“No!” he interrupted, his voice taut. “Absolutely not. Ask anything else of me, but not that. I couldn’t endure the worry. I mean that.”
“We’ll talk about it again later,” she said with a smile that was both stubborn and serene.
“My answer will be the same,” he told her.
He would have said more, but just then the newscaster announced that they had a late-breaking development in the recent Bancroft & Company takeover furor, and Meredith’s gaze snapped to the television screen. “Philip A. Bancroft,” said the newscaster, “called a news conference late this afternoon to comment on reports that his daughter, Meredith Bancroft, was fired as B and C’s acting president as a result of her connection to industrialist Matthew Farrell.”
Dread made Meredith’s hand tighten on Matt’s as her father’s grim, unsmiling face appeared on the television screen. Standing stiffly at the podium in Bancroft’s auditorium, he read from a prepared statement:
“In response to reports that my daughter’s marriage to Matthew Farrell resulted in her termination as B and C’s interim president, the board of directors, including myself, categorically deny any such allegations. My daughter is enjoying a brief and long-overdue honeymoon with her husband, at the end of which she is expected to reassume her role here.” He paused and looked directly at the camera, and only Meredith realized that he wasn’t issuing a statement, he was issuing an order. To her.
Shock had already sent her halfway to her feet, but that was nothing compared to what she felt a moment later when he commented on something that had been appearing all week in the Chicago papers. “In response to published rumors that there is a long history of continuing ill feeling between Matthew Farrell and myself, I wish to state that until very recently I had no opportunity to know my”—he paused to self-consciously clear his throat—“my, er, my son-in-law.”
It hit Meredith what he was doing. “Matt,” she cried, clutching his arm in laughing disbelief, “he’s apologizing to you!” Matt shot her a dubious look that abruptly changed to reluctant amusement as Philip Bancroft continued. “As everyone now knows, Matt Farrell and my daughter were married for a few short months many years ago, a marriage which we all believed had been ended by an unfortunate and premature divorce. However, now that they’ve been reunited, I can only say that having a man of Matthew Farrell’s caliber as a son-in-law is something that any father would deem an—” he paused to clear his throat again, and then he absolutely glowered at the camera as he reluctantly but forcefully said—“an honor!”
Meredith stared at the screen as it switched to the sports scores, and her laughter faded as she looked at her husband. “I made him promise that he’d apologize to you when he found out you were innocent.” Laying her fingers against his cheek in an unconscious gesture of appeal, she whispered achingly, “Could you possibly find it in your heart to put the past behind you and try to be friends with him now?”
Privately, Matt thought that nothing Philip Bancroft did, including the televised statement he’d just made, could begin to atone for what he’d done to them, let alone make Matt regard the man as a friend. He considered telling her that, but as he gazed into his wife’s shimmering blue eyes, he couldn’t quite make himself say that. “I could try,” he said. He heard how revolted he sounded by the idea, and he felt obliged to give her additional reassurance, so he dishonestly but forcefully remarked, “That was a very nice speech that he made.”
Caroline Edwards Bancroft thought it was too. Sitting opposite Philip in the living room of the house she’d once shared with him, she waited until the program switched to sports news, then she turned off the VCR and removed the tape she’d made. “Philip,” she said, “that was a very nice speech.”
He handed her a glass of wine, his expression unconvinced. “What makes you think Meredith will think so?”
“I think she will because I know I would.”
“Of course you would. You wrote the speech!”
Serenely taking a sip of her wine, Caroline watched him pace.
“Do you think she saw it?” he asked, rounding on her.
“If she didn’t see it, you can bring her this videotape. Better yet, you could go to see her now and ask Matt and her both to watch while you’re there.” Caroline nodded. “I like that idea. It’s more personal.”
He blanched. “No, really, I couldn’t do that. She probably hates me, and Farrell will throw me out. He’s no fool. He knows a few words don’t make up for the mistakes I’ve made. He won’t accept an apology from me.”
“Yes, he will,” she said quietly, “because he loves her.”
When he hesitated, Caroline handed him the videotape and said firmly, “The longer you wait, the harder it will become for you and them. Go over there now, Philip.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Philip sighed. “Caroline,” he said gruffly, “would you go with me?”
“No,” she said, quailing inwardly at the thought of confronting her daughter for the first time. “Besides, my plane leaves in three hours.”
His voice softened, and she glimpsed the irresistibly persuasive man she’d fallen in love with three decades before. “You could go with me,” he said quietly, “and I could introduce you to our daughter.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the way he’d said our daughter, then she realized what he was doing and she shook her head, laughing. “You are still the most manipulative man I’ve ever known.”
“I’m also the only man you ever married,” he reminded her with a rare smile. “I must have had some good qualities.”
“Stop it, Philip,” she warned him.
“We could go to see Meredith and Farrell—”
“Start calling him Matt.”
“All right,” he conceded. “Matt. And after we leave their place, we could come back here. You could stay on for a while, and we could get to know each other again.”
“I already know you,” she said heatedly. “And if you want to get to know me, you’ll have to do it in Italy!”
“Caroline,” he said on a harsh breath. “Please.” He saw her waver. “At least come with me tonight. This may be your last chance to meet our daughter. You’ll like her. She’s like you in some ways—she has a lot of courage.”
Closing her eyes, Caroline tried to ignore his words and the urging of her own heart, but the combination was irresistibly powerful. “Call her first,” she said shakily. “After thirty years I’m not going to just crash in on her unannounced. Don’t be surprised when she refuses to see me,” she added, taking the phone number Matt had given her out of her purse and giving it to Philip.
“She’s probably going to refuse to see both of us,” he said. “And I can’t blame her.”
He walked into the adjoining room to make the call and reappeared so quickly that Carolin