But McCoy couldn't arouse in her the sexual passion that Fortunato had. She doubted if any man could. Peregrine had wanted him again after that wild night they'd had together. He was like a drug she craved. Every time the phone had rung or there was a knock at the door, she'd hoped it was Fortunato. But he'd never come back. With Chrysalis's help she had found his mother and learned that the ace had left New York and was somewhere in the Orient, probably Japan.
The realization that he had left her so casually helped her get over him, but now he rushed back into her mind. She wondered how he would feel about her pregnancy, about being a father. Would he ever even know? She sighed.
Josh McCoy, she told herself sternly, is a wonderful man, and you love him. Don't blow it over a man you'll probably never see again. But if I did see him again, what would it be like? For the millionth time she relived her hours with Fortunato. Just thinking about it made her want him. Or McCoy.
Josh was drinking a Stella beer. As he saw her, he signaled the waiter and they arrived at his table together. "I'll have another beer," McCoy told the waiter. "Some wine, Peri?"
"Uh, no thanks. Do you have any bottled water?" she asked the waiter.
"Certainly, madam. We have Perrier."
"That'll be fine."
"Well?" McCoy asked. "What did Tachyon have to say? Are you okay?"
I'm not as brave about telling him this as I thought I'd be, Peregrine said to herself. What if he can't deal with it? It was best, she decided, to simply tell him the truth.
"There's nothing wrong with me. Nothing that time won't cure." She took a sip of the drink the waiter placed in front of her and murmured, "I'm going to have a baby."
"What?" McCoy almost dropped his beer. "A baby?" She nodded, looking at him directly for the first time since she had sat down. I really love you, she said silently. Please don't make this any harder on me than it already is. "Mine?" he inquired calmly.
This was going to be the hard part. "No," she admitted. Josh downed the rest of his beer and picked up the second bottle. "If I'm not the father, who is? Bruce Willis?" Peregrine made a face. "Keith Hernandez? Bob Weir? Senator Hartmann? Who?"
She arched an eyebrow at him. "Regardless of what the supermarket tabloids, and apparently you, think, I do not sleep with every man my name is linked with." She drank some Perrier. "In fact, I happen to be rather particular about choosing bedmates." She grinned mischievously. "I picked you, after all."
"Don't try to change the subject," he warned. "Who's the father?"
"Do you really want to know?" Josh nodded curtly.
"Why?"
"Because," he sighed, "I happen to love you and I think it's important that I know who is the father of your baby. Does he know yet?"
"How can he? I just found out myself."
"Do you love him?" McCoy asked, frowning. "Why did you break off your relationship? Was it him?"
"Josh," Peregrine explained patiently. "There was no relationship. It was one night. I met this man, we went to bed. I never saw him again." Although not, she silently added, for lack of trying.
McCoy's frown deepened. "Are you in the habit of going to bed with anybody who catches your fancy?"
Peregrine flushed. "No. I just told you I'm not." She laid her hand on his. "Please understand. I had no idea you were in my future when I met him. You knew you weren't my first the first time we made love, and after all," she challenged, "I'm surely not the first woman you've slept with, am I?"
"No, but I was hoping you'd be the last." McCoy ran his hand through his hair. "This really puts a cramp into my plans."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, what about the father? Is he going to just stand quietly by while I marry the mother of his kid?"
"You want to marry me?" For the first time Peregrine felt that everything would work out right.
"Yeah, I do! What's so strange about that? Is this guy going to be a problem? Who is it anyhow?"
"It's an ace," she said slowly. "Who?" McCoy insisted.
Oh, hell, she thought. Josh knows a lot about the New York scene. He's sure to have heard of Fortunato. What if he has the same attitude Tachyon has? Maybe I shouldn't tell him, but maybe he has the right to know. "His name's Fortunato-"
"Fortunato!" exploded McCoy. "That guy with all the hookers? Geishas, he calls them! You slept with him!" He gulped down more beer.
"I really don't see that it matters now. It happened. And if you must know, he's very charming."
"Okay, okay." McCoy glowered.
"If you're going to be jealous of every man I ever slept with, then I don't give us very much of a chance. And marriage is out of the question."
"Come on, Peri, give me a break. This is kind of unexpected."
"Well, it's a shock to me too. This morning I thought I was tired. This afternoon I find out I'm pregnant."
A shadow fell over their table. It was Tachyon in a lilac silk suit that matched his eyes. "Do you mind if I join you?" He pulled out a chair without awaiting a reply. "Brandy," he snapped to the waiter, who was hovering nearby. They all stared at each other until the waiter made a precise little bow and left. "I've spoken to the local hospital," Tachyon said finally. "We can do the test tomorrow morning."
"What test?" McCoy asked, looking from Peregrine to Tachyon.
"Did you tell him?" Tachyon asked.
"I didn't have a chance to tell him about the virus," Peregrine said in a barely audible whisper.
"Virus?"
"Because both Peregrine and For-the father, that is-carry the wild card, the child will have it," Tachyon said crisply. "An ultrasound must be performed as soon as possible to determine the status of the fetus. If the child is developing abnormally, Peregrine must have an abortion. If the child is growing normally, I still advise termination, but that will, of course, be her decision."
McCoy stared at Peregrine. "You didn't tell me that!"
"I didn't have a chance," she said defensively.
"There is a one in one hundred chance that the child will be an ace, but a nine in one hundred chance that it will be a joker," added Tachyon relentlessly.
"A joker! You mean like one of those awful things that lives in Jokertown, something horrible, an atrocity?"
"My dear young man," began Tachyon angrily, "not all jokers-"
"Josh," Peregrine interrupted softly, "I'm a joker."
Both men turned to her. "I am," she insisted. "Jokers have physical deformities." Her wings fluttered. "Like these. I'm a joker."
"This discussion is getting us nowhere," said Tachyon after a long silence. "Peri, I'll see you tonight." He walked away without touching his brandy.
"Well," said McCoy. "Tachyon's little piece of news certainly puts a different light on the subject."
"What do you mean," she asked, a chill seizing her.
"I hate jokers," McCoy burst out. "They give me the creeps!" His knuckles were white on the beer bottle. "Look, I can't go on with this. I'll call New York and tell them to send you another cameraman. I'll get my gear out of your room."