The Motherhood Mix-Up. Jennifer Taylor
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desperation—who couldn’t? To discover that the child he had believed to be his wasn’t his biological child must have been a terrible shock. But there was no way that he was going to lay claim to Harry!
She looked round when the door opened, feeling her heart contract with fear when she saw Leo Forester come in. Dr Khapur had acceded to his request that they should be allowed some time on their own to talk and this time she hadn’t objected. The sooner this was sorted out, the better.
‘Mrs Rowlands is making us some coffee. It should be ready in a moment.’
He sat down opposite her, stretching out his long legs under the coffee table. Mia studied him in silence, wondering how it must feel to discover that everything you had believed to be true was no longer certain any more. She knew how she felt, yet there was little sign of the confusion she felt apparent on his face.
How old was he? she wondered suddenly. Late thirties? Older? His hair was very dark with only a few threads of silver shining through. It was expertly cut, too, the crisp dark waves clipped close to his well-shaped head. His features were strong and very masculine—a firm jaw and well-defined cheekbones giving him an aristocratic appearance that befitted his whole bearing. Leo Forester looked like a man who was used to being in charge, a man who rarely took account of other people’s opinions. It wasn’t the most comforting thought in the circumstances.
A knock on the door roused her from her reverie. Leo Forester got up to answer it, taking the tray from the receptionist and carrying it over to the table. Without bothering to ask, he poured them both coffee, pushing the sugar bowl and milk jug towards her before picking up his cup. Mia added a dash of milk to her coffee, although she didn’t feel in the least like drinking it. However, it gave her something to do, a few extra minutes’ grace before she had to tell Leo Forester that she was very sorry but he would have to look elsewhere for his missing child. Harry was hers, hers and Chris’s, and nobody was going to take him away from her.
‘Before we go any further, Mrs Adams, I want to show you something.’ Leo Forester put down his cup then reached into his inside pocket and took out his wallet. Flipping it open, he passed it across the table. ‘This is Noah.’
Mia reluctantly took the wallet from him and glanced at the photograph, wishing that he hadn’t shown it to her. It seemed wrong to build up his hopes, wrong and unnecessarily cruel. Maybe he did believe that ridiculous claim he’d made but she knew the truth, knew that Harry was her child…
Her breath caught as her eyes alighted on the solemn face of the little boy in the photograph. He had blond hair, so blond that it appeared more silver than gold. His eyes were blue, a deep dark blue framed by thick black lashes that matched the dark slash of his eyebrows and created a startling contrast to his fairness. Just as Chris’s had done.
Mia felt the ground roll beneath her feet as she stared at the picture, at the small straight nose, at the determined little chin with that hint of a dimple in it. It was pure coincidence, of course. Maybe the child did look very like her late husband but it didn’t prove that he was hers and Chris’s child, as Leo Forester claimed.
‘I take it from your expression that there’s a resemblance between Noah and your husband?’
Leo Forester’s voice betrayed very little of what he was feeling and Mia was grateful for that. She seemed to be awash with so many conflicting emotions that she couldn’t have coped with his as well. She gave a tiny shrug, needing to hold onto what she knew to be the truth. Harry was her son, not this boy.
‘Chris was very fair too,’ she said quietly, passing the wallet back to him.
‘I wondered who Noah favoured.’ Leo Forester slid the wallet into his pocket and picked up his coffee cup. His hand was rock steady as he lifted it to his lips and all of a sudden Mia found herself resenting the fact that he could behave this way. Surely any normal person would be torn in two, wondering and worrying about this situation?
‘The fact that your son happens to have similar colouring to my husband is hardly proof, Mr Forester.’ Scorn dripped from her voice but if she’d hoped to sting him into a reaction she was disappointed. His expression didn’t alter as he looked steadily at her over the rim of the cup.
‘Of course not. It will need DNA tests to confirm it. I suggest we make arrangements to have them done as soon as possible.’
‘I have no intention of allowing Harry to be tested!’ She glared at him, feeling a wave of anger wash away the fear that had invaded her ever since he’d made that ridiculous claim. ‘I’m very sorry for you, Mr Forester. I’m sure that in your shoes I would do everything possible to get to the bottom of this matter. However, Harry isn’t your son. He’s mine. Mine and Chris’s.’
‘And if that is true then the DNA results will prove it.’ He shrugged, his broad shoulders moving lightly under his perfectly tailored jacket. That he was a wealthy man wasn’t in doubt and Mia felt a fresh rush of fear hit her. Leo Forester obviously had the means to pursue this if he chose. If he decided to take it to the courts, he would be able to hire the very best lawyers to make his case. Even though she was working, she had no hope of fighting him if it came to a lengthy legal battle. She simply didn’t have the money. Perhaps it would be wiser to concede this point in case the fight became more desperate in the future?
The thought of what might happen in the future made her inwardly tremble but she had learned at an early age to hide her feelings. She looked steadily back at him, wishing that she had followed her instincts and never agreed to visit the clinic. She’d had a bad feeling when that letter had arrived out of the blue, although not for a moment had she imagined that something like this would happen.
‘If you’re determined to go down that route then I shall agree to have Harry tested on one condition.’
‘And that is?’ Leo Forester raised a dark brow. His expression was as bland as ever but Mia could see a nerve tic in his jaw and realised, with a start, that he was nowhere near as composed as he was pretending to be. The thought was comforting for some reason and her tone softened.
‘That Harry isn’t told anything about this. He’s only five and it will just confuse him if he’s told that Chris might not be his daddy.’
‘I have no intention of telling him or Noah anything until we get the results of the DNA tests.’
Leo Forester put his cup down with a clatter and Mia realised, with another start that he’d had to put it down because his hands were shaking. Maybe he did prefer to keep a rein on his emotions, but beneath that cool exterior there was definitely passion brewing. It made her wonder what would happen if he ever let himself go.
Mia pushed that thought aside. What Leo Forester did or didn’t feel was of no consequence, except where it concerned Harry, of course. She needed to make it clear that any hopes he was harbouring about claiming her son as his own were never going to come to fruition.
‘I shall arrange to have a DNA profile done on Harry. Once I receive the results, I’ll contact you. Obviously I’ll need an address or telephone number where you can be reached.’
‘I’ll give you my card.’ He took out his wallet again and pulled out an ivory-coloured card. He didn’t hand it over immediately, however.
‘It seems pointless you having to go to all the trouble of finding someone to carry out the DNA tests, Mrs Adams. Why don’t you leave me to make the arrangements?’
‘Thank you but I’d prefer to do it myself,’ Mia said shortly, and he frowned.
‘Because you don’t trust me not to pull some sort of a stunt so that the results come back in my favour?’
Mia heard the irritation in his deep voice but it didn’t bother her. There was too much at stake to worry about his finer feelings, if he really had any, of course. It was disappointing to wonder if she’d been wrong about him. Maybe what you saw was what you got and in this instance it appeared that the handsome Leo Forester was a very cold fish indeed.
‘Yes.’ She took the card