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...before Deidre had fallen in love with him.

It felt like the invisible hand gripping at her heart transferred to her throat.

“Yes, Nick told me as much...I think so...” she muttered hoarsely, hazily recalling some of the things Nick had said in the car on those first nights he’d come to Harbor Town.

This time, John’s relieved expression did strike her as contrived. “Good. I know Nick too well to believe he’d ever do anything underhanded when it came to his...association with you,” the older man said delicately.

Deidre went still. She searched John’s face, quite sure she was being paranoid. “Nick told you that he and I are involved?” she asked, her voice near a whisper.

John smiled. “There isn’t much he doesn’t tell me. I’m not only his chief legal officer, we’ve been friends for years.”

Anger bubbled through her numb disbelief. It hurt, knowing Nick had shared the details of their unlikely romance with a business associate. It hurt worse—much worse—hearing about this letter and knowing that all along, Nick had thought Lincoln was mad for considering Deidre his daughter and heir.

She wasn’t going to sit here and listen to John while he toyed with her emotions like a cat playing with a mouse before it pounced. She stood abruptly.

“I think you’d better go.”

John looked taken aback. He stood slowly. “Of course, if you wish. I didn’t mean to insult you in any way—”

“Yes, you did,” Deidre replied. Her voice sounded cool and steely to her own ears, but on the inside, she was wilting. She just wanted John Kellerman out of the house so she could try and untangle her chaotic thoughts and emotions about Nick and the letter. Could Nick really have kept such a thing from her? He’d admitted that he possessed a letter from Lincoln and had definitely refused to let her see it—

Her cell phone started to ring. She didn’t really think about it, just walked over to the kitchen counter and picked it up instinctively.

“Hello,” she said distractedly.

“Ms. Kavanaugh?” a woman on the other end said. “Deidre Kavanaugh?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Evelyn Mendez, from GenLabs. We spoke several weeks back?”

Deidre froze. She glanced at John Kellerman. She didn’t know precisely what he’d seen on her face, but he’d gone suddenly still and alert.

“Yes, I remember,” Deidre managed to get out through numb lips.

“I’m calling with the results of the paternity test, Ms. Kavanaugh.”

Time seemed to stretch.

A knock resounded in the silent kitchen. When she just stared at the door blankly, John started and opened it himself.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked, glancing from John to Deidre and back to John again.

* * *

“Deidre?” Nick repeated when neither John nor she answered his question. Deidre just stood there clutching the phone to her ear. Her face was pale as chalk. What the hell had John been saying to her? He walked toward her, recalling all too well what had happened the last time he’d seen her that pale. Much to his confusion, instead of accepting his support, she backed away from him several steps, her gaze narrowed like she couldn’t quite bring him into focus.

“Ms. Mendez, can you hold on for just a moment?” Deidre spoke in a strained tone into the phone, her large eyes trained on Nick. Then, much to Nick’s growing concern, she stepped past him, opened the oven and removed a pan of cookies.

“You two will have to excuse me,” she said briskly over her shoulder before she left the kitchen. A few seconds later, Nick heard the door to the bedroom close down the hall. He spun around to face John, his mouth open in amazement.

“What the hell did you say to her?” he accused.

“It wasn’t me that got her upset,” John defended. “It was that phone call. Every bit of color washed out of her face when she got it.”

Something flickered in John’s blue eyes. An alarm started going off in Nick’s head.

“You don’t suppose...” John began before he faded off, his alert gaze now trained on the hallway. Nick did suppose, and that’s what had him worried.

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