Daddy Warlock Read Online Free Page A

the most precious part of her life.
    Maybe she should have listened to Denise and tried to find the father after she discovered she was pregnant. He’d been rich, Denise had pointed out. He ought to help support his own child.
    But Tara couldn’t bring herself to do it. For one thing, after they discovered they’d misread the street sign and landed at the wrong party, she’d been overwhelmed by a sense of shame at her behavior.
    Plus she had such a vague recollection of the man that sometimes she wondered if she’d been drugged. Of course, there was no way of proving that now. But he must have been a terrible person to take advantage of her that way.
    And if he was rich, that meant he could afford the best lawyers. These days, plenty of men sought custody and got it.
    The sharp buzz of the phone startled her. Who would be calling in the middle of the day, when no one was supposed to be home?
    â€œMrs. Blayne?” came the voice of the school secretary. “I tried your office but they said you’d left. The principal has requested that you come to his office right away. I’m afraid there’s been a discipline problem with Harry.”
    When she related, with apologies for the implausibility, what had happened in the lunchroom, Tara felt a jolt of dismay. She’d tried to tell herself that what she’d seen Harry do with his toys had been a misperception. But now a teacher had witnessed the same thing.
    Either the world was going crazy, or Harry’s father had been a lot stranger than Tara imagined.
    IT WAS NEARLY EIGHT o’clock by the time Chance got home from the office, and he still needed to put in a couple of hours on the computer.
    As he crossed the driveway from the garage, his steps crushed some alyssum that had infiltrated the cracks, filling the spring air with the flowers’ honeyed essence. Involuntarily, he imagined his lady beside him and how she would relish the gentle fragrance. But she was only a ghost of a memory, elusive as a moonbeam.
    At his approach, colored floodlights bathed the front of the house. The stucco had been painted last year, an earthy tan, and the trim redone in chocolate.
    As his financial consulting firm prospered, Chance should have redecorated long ago, but something had stopped him. The ugly marks left by the castle facade had served as a reminder of the Halloween that had been the turning point in his life.
    Everything that had happened since had come from the lessons he learned that night. Even when the paint deteriorated into an eyesore, it had been hard to give up the last tangible reminder of that night.
    Every once in a while, over the past seven years, Chance had felt the urge to track the lady down. But even now, he wasn’t sure he might not somehow harm her if they met again.
    He had struggled to gain control over his abilities, but there were no classes in how to keep from invading other people’s minds. So he had found his own way, beginning with meditation and proceeding to a study of Eastern and Native American beliefs.
    Gradually he had schooled himself to erect an imaginary glass wall between himself and others whenever temptation beckoned. It worked, but it made him feel shutoff, as if he were wearing gloves when he yearned to touch the surface of the world.
    His father still believed Chance’s success as an investment adviser and stockbroker must come from trickery. Sadly, the man couldn’t understand his son’s attachment to ethics.
    Some things, Chance supposed as he mounted the front porch, never changed. He loved his father, but he doubted he and Ray would ever be on the same wavelength.
    To the computer, he said, “Today’s password is…ketchup.”
    â€œWrong,” it said in a dry, nasal tone.
    â€œOh, shoot. That was yesterday.” Chance wished he could make the thing recognize his voice. He supposed he could carry a remote control, but then he had to worry about losing