She dodged a woman dragging an enormous suitcase, and continued down the terminal. The station was busy, filled with evening travelers rushing up and down the tiled floor. People chattered on in French, Italian and a smattering of other languages, completely oblivious to Lana’s inner turmoil.
How on earth would she track down Deacon? The hotel didn’t have a forwarding address for him, and a quick Google search on her laptop had come up with nothing. She didn’t even know what he did for a living, for Pete’s sake. A businessman, he’d said. Great. So much to go on there.
“May I help you with your suitcase?” a purser asked in French as Lana approached the track.
“Merci, oui,” she murmured.
The thin man picked up her suitcase then helped her onto the train. A loud whistle pierced the air. Travelers were bounding down the platform, boarding at the last minute, while the PA crackled again to announce the train’s departure.
A pretty woman with shiny brown hair escorted Lana to her compartment. It was a private sleeper car, and she’d already arranged for a wake-up call for tomorrow morning, when she’d need to take the connecting train in Milan. The cabin was cozy and comfortable, but Lana doubted she’d get any sleep. Probably just sit in silence for the next nine hours and try not to cry.
God, what kind of mess had she found herself in?
She sank down on the plush bench and promptly buried her face in her hands.
“Is everything all right, mademoiselle?” the stewardess asked hesitantly.
Lana lifted her head. “Everything is fine,” she managed. “I’m just tired.”
The woman stored Lana’s suitcase on the overhead rack and edged to the door. “I will let you rest then. Enjoy the trip.”
Lana muttered a thank-you, then let out a breath as the door of the compartment closed and she was alone.
Alone.
Oh, God, she’d have to raise this baby by herself.
The moment the thought slid into her mind, a surprising sense of calm settled over her. Ever since she’d taken those tests, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about what she planned to do with the baby. She was twenty-four years old, unmarried, still being supported by her parents to supplement the small income she made selling her sculptures. Having a child hadn’t been in her foreseeable future.
But circumstances had changed. She was pregnant. And no matter how unexpected this development, she knew she would keep the baby.
Her hand covered her stomach, a rush of startling joy sweeping through her as she imagined the tiny life growing inside her. A baby. Her baby.
And Deacon’s…
The joy faded into frustration. Yes, this was Deacon’s child, too. And he had no clue.
She had to find a way to contact him. Sure, he probably wouldn’t be thrilled about the news. For all she knew, he’d turn on his heel and march away without a backward glance, not wanting anything to do with this child. The notion brought a spark of pain and anger to her gut, but she wasn’t naive enough to dwell on the anger. She and Deacon were strangers. Two strangers who’d met one night and found comfort and magic in each other’s arms.
She couldn’t expect him to welcome the idea of fatherhood with open arms. She wouldn’t even blame him if he didn’t. But he still had a right to know. Lana wouldn’t be able to live with herself knowing she’d kept something as important as a child from the man.
She had to track him down. So what if he didn’t seem to want to be found? So what if it would be difficult? She was Lana Kelley, after all. Her shoulders straightened in determination. When she reached Florence, she’d call a private investigator and hire him to find Deacon. And then she’d sit down and figure out what to do about this last year of school. She could probably finish out the winter semester, but she wanted to be in the States when the baby was born. She wanted her family to—
Her family.
Lana felt all the color drain from her face. “They’re going to kill me,” she mumbled to herself.
She pictured her brothers’ faces when they heard the news and suddenly grew nauseous. Her parents might understand, maybe even support her. They might have their own problems at the moment, but everything would be straightened out eventually. Once that happened, she knew her mom and dad would help her.
Her brothers, on the other hand…
Dylan and Cole would be furious. Jake might be supportive, if he ever returned from his mysterious undercover assignment that had taken him away from them for two years now. Chase probably wouldn’t care—he’d washed his hands of the family years ago. And Jim, well, he’d probably hunt Deacon down and rip his throat out.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. At least then she’d be able to tell Deacon the news.