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The Baby Inheritance
Maureen Child


Is a family in the future for this wealthy bachelor? From USA TODAY bestselling author Maureen Child!Divorce attorney to the stars Reed Hudson knows there’s no such thing as happily-ever-after. But the red-headed stunner who walks into his office with an infant in her arms will put him to the test.Lilah Strong just brought a baby girl to a man who splits up families for a living. Now he wants Lilah to stay on as temporary nanny to his niece. Reed Hudson’s plush hotel suite is a world away from Lilah’s rustic mountain home. Will their undeniable attraction end in heartbreak…or forever?









“Actions speak louder than words. And what you’re doing is ignoring me and Rose.”


“I’m not ignoring the baby, I’m ignoring you.”

“Why?” Lilah demanded, tossing both hands high.

Could she really not see what it cost him to avoid her company? Was she clueless about the attraction sizzling between them? Well, if so, Reed thought, it was time to let her know exactly what was going on here.

Her scent reached for him, surrounded him and he threw caution out the damn window. “Because of this.”

He grabbed her, pulled her in close and kissed her as he’d wanted to for days.

* * *

The Baby Inheritance is part of Mills & Boon’s no.1 bestselling series,

Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men… wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.




The Baby

Inheritance

Maureen Child







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


MAUREEN CHILD writes for the Mills & Boon Desire line and can’t imagine a better job.

A seven-time finalist for a prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA


Award, Maureen is an author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill Award. She is a native Californian but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah.


To Patti Canterbury Hambleton—Best friend since first grade and still the absolute Best.

For all the laughs and tears and crazy adventures.

I love you.


Contents

Cover (#u9ef57ce4-8e83-5a00-ac10-86199d10970b)

Introduction (#u8d178ab3-5757-5a5e-8578-90469e61aa05)

Title Page (#u2f711b90-a96a-5e0b-92f5-ef880ba8471e)

About the Author (#u6e4c8d19-2a19-5de1-b47e-45cfd25d3ebd)

Dedication (#u5465ed9d-39a8-5d2a-b460-3eb1061a1149)

One (#u32f6307b-6890-593e-9f3f-9c747fff25d7)

Two (#u780d0e23-4407-5bfe-9d29-f3f9b00dda6d)

Three (#u4985208e-6d7a-53b3-aefc-0d9fb70d6aca)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ulink_ef8563fd-4a0c-54f6-867d-0af90b5f34f8)

“Divorce is reality,” Reed Hudson told his client. “It’s marriage that’s the anomaly.”

Carson Duke, America’s favorite action-movie star, just stared at his attorney for a long minute, before saying, “That’s cold.”

Reed shook his head slowly. The man was here to end a marriage that most of the country looked on as a fairy tale come to life, and still he didn’t want to accept the simple truth. Reed had seen this over and over again. Oh, most of the people who came to him were eager to end a marriage that had become inconvenient or boring or both. But there were a few people who came to him wishing they were anywhere but in his office, ending a relationship that they’d hoped was forever.

Forever. Even the thought nearly brought a smile. In his experience, both business and personal, there was no such thing as forever.

“Like I said,” Reed told Carson with a shake of his head, “not cold. Reality.”

“Harsh.” Then Carson snorted a short laugh and crossed his legs, his ankle on top of his knee. Frowning a little, he asked quietly, “You ever been married?”

Now Reed laughed. “Oh, hell, no.”

Just the idea of him ever getting married was ridiculous. His reputation alone, as what the tabloids called the “divorce attorney to the stars,” was enough to make sure no woman he was involved with developed long-term plans. And representing most of Hollywood and New York in high-profile divorce cases had all started with a single client five years before. Reed had represented television’s most likable comedian in a nasty split from a wife who made the “bunny boiler” look like a good time.

Word had spread in Hollywood and across celebrity lines, and soon Reed’s practice was littered with the rich and famous. He enjoyed his work, relished protecting his clients from bad relationships and shattering the occasional prenup. And, if there was one thing he’d learned through the years, it was that even the best marriage could dissolve into misery.

But, he hadn’t exactly needed his clients to teach him that lesson. His own family was a sterling example of just how badly marriages could go. His father was now on wife number five and living in London, while Reed’s mother and husband number four were currently enjoying the heat and tropical atmosphere of Bali. And from what Reed had been hearing, his mother was already looking for husband number five. Thanks to his serially monogamous parents, Reed had ten siblings, full and half, ranging in age from three to thirty-two with another baby sister due any minute thanks to his father’s ridiculously young, and apparently fertile, wife.

For most of his life, Reed, as the oldest child in the wildly eclectic and extended immediate family, had been the one who stepped in and kept things moving. When his siblings had a problem, they came to him. When his parents needed a fast divorce in order to marry their next “true love,” they came to him. When the apocalypse finally arrived, he had no doubt that they would all turn to him, expecting Reed to save all of their asses. He was used to it and had long ago accepted his role in the Hudson clan. The fact that his experience as a mediator had served him so well as an attorney was simply a bonus.

Looking at his latest client, Reed thought back over the past year and remembered the innumerable articles and pictures flashed across the tabloids. Carson Duke and his wife, Tia Brennan, had graced the covers of magazines and the pages of newspapers, and the two had been favorites on the celebrity websites. They’d had a whirlwind romance that had ended in a fairy-tale wedding on a Hawaiian cliff overlooking the Pacific.

Stories proclaiming the nearly magical connection between the two, holding them up as examples of what “real” love looked like, had been printed, pored over and discussed all across the world. Yet here Carson sat, a little more than a year later, hiring Reed to represent him in a divorce that promised to be as high-profile as the marriage had been.

“Let’s get down to business then,” Reed said and looked at the man across from him. Just like in his movies, Carson Duke looked tough, determined and had the cool, hard gaze of a seasoned warrior. Not surprising, since the star had been a US Marine before turning to Hollywood. “First tell me what your wife thinks about all of this.”

Carson sighed, shoved one hand through his hair and then blurted out, “It was her idea. Things have been rough between us for a while now.” It looked as though every word he spoke tasted bitter. “She—we—decided that it would be better, for both of us, if we just end the marriage and walk away now, before things get ugly.”

“Uh-huh.” Duke sounded reasonable, but so many of Reed’s clients did when they were first entering the muddy swamp of litigation. Couples determined to remain “friendly” eventually succumbed to name-calling and vicious diatribes. Reed wasn’t looking forward to watching Carson and his wife go down that path. “I need to know—are you seeing someone else? Is another woman at the bottom of all this? I will find out sooner or later, so it would be better for all of us if you tell me now so there are no surprises.”

Carson stiffened, but Reed held up a hand to silence what would no doubt be a tirade of insult and outrage. All of his clients tended to paint themselves as the injured party, and if Reed wasn’t careful, he could be blindsided by a scorned lover testifying for the opposition. Better to have as much information as possible from the jump. “These are questions I have to ask. If you’re smart, you’ll answer.”

Carson stewed in his chair for a second or two, looked as though he’d like to punch something, then surged to his feet in one smooth motion.

“No,” he snapped, and paced across the room to stop at one of the wide windows overlooking the sweep of ocean stretching out into the distance. He stared through the glass for several long seconds, as if trying to calm down, then turned his head to look directly at Reed. “No. I didn’t cheat. Neither did Tia.”

Reed’s eyebrows arched. First time he’d heard a client defend a spouse. “You’re sure about her?”

“Absolutely.” Carson shook his head and looked back through the glass at the sunlight dancing on the ocean’s surface. “This isn’t about cheating or lying or any other damn thing.”

Intriguing. The old irreconcilable differences plea was usually just an excuse to keep secrets private. There were always reasons for a divorce, and in Reed’s experience, cheating was right at the top of the list.

“Then why are you here?” Reed asked, leaning back in his black leather desk chair.

“Because we’re not happy anymore.” Carson laid one hand on the glass. “It started out great,” he continued as if to himself. “Tia and I met and it was like...magic. You know?”

“No,” Reed said, smiling. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

Carson shook his head. “We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. From that first moment, there was something powerful between us.” He smiled, and shot Reed another quick glance. “It was more than sex, though. We used to talk all night, laughing, planning, talking about moving out of Hollywood, having kids. But the last few months, between work and other demands on both of us...hell. We hardly see each other anymore. So why be married?”

Pitiful excuse to sentence yourself to divorce court, but then, Reed silently acknowledged, he’d heard worse. He’d once represented a man who claimed he needed a divorce because his wife kept hiding cookies from him. Reed had almost advised him to buy his own damn cookies, but had figured it was none of his business. Because the cookies weren’t the real reason. They were simply the excuse. The man wanted a divorce; Reed would get it for him. That was his job. He wasn’t a marriage counselor, after all.

“All right then,” Reed said briskly. “I’ll get the paperwork started. Tia won’t be contesting the divorce?”

“No.” Carson shoved both hands into his pockets. “Like I said. Her idea.”

“That’ll make it easier,” Reed told him.

Wryly, Carson whispered, “I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“It is.” Reed watched his client and felt a stir of sympathy. He wasn’t a cold man. He knew that people came to him when their worlds were dissolving. In order to maintain a professional distance, he sometimes came off as harsh when all he was trying to do was to be a rock for his clients. To be the one stable point in a suddenly rocking world. And as he studied Carson Duke, he knew the man didn’t need pity, he needed someone to guide him through unfamiliar waters. “Trust me,” Reed said. “You don’t want a long, drawn-out battle described daily in the tabloids.”

Carson shuddered at the idea. “I can’t even take the trash out at my house without some photographer leaning out of a tree for a picture. You know, on the drive down here from Malibu, I was telling myself that it’d be a hell of a lot easier on most of us if your office was in LA—but getting away from most of the paparazzi is worth the drive.”

Over the years, Reed had told himself the same thing about relocating to Los Angeles many times, but damned if he could convince himself to move. A quick glance around his office only reinforced that feeling. The building itself was old—built in 1890—though thankfully it had been spared the Victorian gingerbread so popular at the time. He’d bought the building, had it completely remodeled and now, it was just as he wanted it. Character on the outside, sleek and elegant on the inside, plus the office was only a fifteen-minute drive from his home.

Besides, Reed preferred Orange County. Liked the fact that Newport Beach sprawled out in front of his two-story building crouched on the Pacific Coast Highway and he had the majestic sweep of ocean behind him. Sure, in the summer the streets were crowded with tourists—but he’d have the same problem in LA without the beautiful setting. Newport Beach was more laid-back than LA, but upscale enough to convince clients they were with the right attorney. Besides, if he had to drive the 405 freeway every night to get from his office to his home at the Saint Regis hotel in Laguna Beach, he’d be spending more than two hours a night just sitting in traffic. If clients wanted the best, then they’d better be ready to do the drive.

“I’ll have the papers drawn up and messengered to you in a few days.”

“No need,” the other man said. “I’m taking a few days. Staying at the Saint Regis Monarch. I’ve got a suite there.”

Since Reed lived in a massive suite at the exclusive, five-star resort, he knew the hotel would give Carson the distance he wanted from Hollywood and the scoop-hungry photographers who would be hunting him once news of an impending divorce hit the media. And it would hit, no matter how they tried to keep it quiet. If Carson or Tia’s people didn’t release the news, then someone along the chain of information would. There were always leaks no matter how hard you tried to keep things confidential. It wouldn’t come from Reed’s staff, that he knew. They were paid extremely well—not just for their expertise, but for their discretion—and knew their jobs depended on their ability to keep their clients’ business to themselves.

But there were others out there Reed had no control over. Everyone from valets at the Monarch to desk clerks and hotel maids. Once the media found out where Carson was staying, they’d continue to dig until they found out why the action star was holed up sixty miles from his house.

“You live at the Monarch, don’t you?” Carson asked.

“Yeah, I do. So once the paperwork is completed, I’ll have it all sent to your room for signing.”

“Convenient, huh?” Carson said wryly. “Anyway, I’m registered under the name Wyatt Earp.”

Reed laughed. The wildly famous usually signed into hotels under false names to keep those not in their immediate circle from knowing where they were. “Got it,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Right.” Carson nodded. “Thanks, I guess.”

Reed watched the man go and once the office door was closed again, he walked to the windows behind his desk and stared out at the view of the ocean as his client had done only moments ago. He’d been through this so many times now, with so many people, he knew what Carson Duke was feeling, thinking. The big decision had been made. The divorce was in play. Now he was feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow and wondering if he was doing the right thing.

Oh, sure, there were plenty of people who divorced with joy in their hearts and a spring in their steps. But they weren’t the rule. Generally, people felt the pain of losing something they’d once pinned their hopes and dreams on. Hell, Reed had seen it in his own family time and again. Each of his parents invariably entered a marriage thinking that this time would be the last. The one. True love and they would finally live happily ever after.

“And they’re never right,” he murmured, shaking his head.

Once again, he was reminded that he’d made the right life choice in never letting himself fall into the trap of convincing himself that good, healthy lust was some kind of romantic love destined to transform his life.

At that thought, he snorted in amusement, then walked back to his desk to begin drafting Carson Duke’s divorce papers.

* * *

Lilah Strong took her time driving along Pacific Coast Highway. The scenery was wildly different from what she was used to and she intended to enjoy it in spite of the hot ball of anger nestled deep in her belly. She didn’t like being angry. It always felt to her like a waste of emotion. The person she was furious with didn’t care how she felt. Her anger affected no one but her...by making her a little nauseous.

But knowing that did nothing to ease the underlying tension that burned inside her. So rather than try to ease that uncomfortable feeling, she briefly distracted herself by glancing out at the ocean.

It was lovely—surfers gliding toward shore on the tops of waves. Sunlight glinting off the deep blue surface of the sea. Boats with jewel-toned sails and children building castles in the sand armed with nothing more than tiny buckets and shovels.

Lilah was a mountain girl, through and through. Her preferred view was of a tree-laden slope, wide-open meadows covered in bright splashes of wildflowers or the snowy mountainsides that backed up to her house. But looking out at the Pacific was a nice change. Of course, she had time to look at the sea while driving only because she wasn’t actually “driving.” It was more...parking.

Pacific Coast Highway was completely backed up with locals, tourists and, it seemed to her, every surfer in Southern California. It was the middle of June and Lilah could imagine that the crowds would only be getting thicker as the summer went on. But thankfully, that wouldn’t be her problem.

In a day or two, she’d be back in the mountains, leaving her companion here in Orange County. That thought gave her heart a hard squeeze, but there was nothing she could do about it. It wasn’t as if she’d had a choice in any of this. If she’d been someone else, maybe she would have considered ignoring facts. But she couldn’t live a lie. She had to do the right thing—even if it felt wrong.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, she looked at her companion and said, “You’re awfully quiet. Too much to think about to leave room for talking, hmm? I know how you feel.”

Her own mind was spinning. Lilah had been dreading this trip to California for two weeks and now that it was here, she was still trying to think of a way out of the situation she found herself in. But no matter how she looked at it, Lilah was stuck. As was her friend in the backseat.

If she were doing this on her turf, so to speak, she might feel a little more in control. Back in her small mountain town in Utah, she had friends. People she could count on to stand with her. Here, all she had were her own two feet and that sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Orange County, California, was only an hour-and-a-half flight from Lilah’s home, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world. She was walking into the unknown with no way out but through.

By the time she parked, helped her friend out of the car and walked into the law office, Lilah’s stomach was swirling with nerves. The building was Victorian on the outside and a sweep of glass and chrome on the inside. It was unsettling, as if designed to keep clients off guard, and maybe that was the idea. The floors were a polished, high-gleam hardwood, but the walls were decorated with modern paintings consisting of splashes of bright color. The reception desk where a stern-faced, middle-aged woman sat sentry was a slab of glass atop shining steel legs. Even the banister gliding along the wood staircase was made up of steel spindles faced with a wall of glass. It was cold, sterile and just a little intimidating. Oh, she was now sincerely prepared to dislike the man she was there to see. Lilah stiffened her spine and approached the reception desk. “I’m Lilah Strong. I’m here to see Reed Hudson.”

The woman looked from Lilah to her friend and back again. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m here on behalf of his sister, Spring Hudson Bates,” Lilah said and watched a flicker of interest glitter in the woman’s eyes. “It’s important that I see him now.”

“One moment.” The woman watched Lilah as she picked up a phone and pressed a single button. “Mr. Hudson, there’s a woman here to see you. She claims to have been sent by your sister Spring.”

Claims? Lilah swallowed the spurt of impatience that jumped into her throat. It took another moment or two before the receptionist hung up and waved one hand at the staircase. “Mr. Hudson will see you. Up the stairs, first door on the left.”

“Thank you.” Lilah and her companion walked away, but as she went, she felt the other woman’s curious gaze follow her.

At the landing, Lilah paused to settle herself outside the heavy double doors. She took a breath, then turned the knob and walked inside.

The outer office was small, but bright, with sunlight pouring through windows that overlooked the ocean. Lilah stepped inside and took a breath, pausing long enough to appreciate the elegant furnishings. The wood floors shone. In one corner, there was a healthy ficus tree in a silver pot. A pair of gray chairs separated by a black table sat against one wall.

A young woman with short black hair and brown eyes sat at a sleek black desk and gave Lilah a friendly smile as she entered. “Hello. I’m Karen, Mr. Hudson’s executive assistant. You must be Ms. Strong. Mr. Hudson’s waiting for you.”

She stood and walked to a pair of double doors. Opening them, she stepped back and Lilah steeled herself before she walked into the lion’s den.

The man’s office was enormous—no doubt designed to impress and intimidate. Mission accomplished, she thought. A wall of glass behind his desk afforded a spectacular view of the ocean, and on her left, the glass wall continued, displaying a bird’s-eye view of Pacific Coast Highway and the crowds that cluttered the street and sidewalks.

The wood floor shone here, too, with the slices of sunlight lying on it sparkling like diamonds. There were several expensive-looking rugs dotting the floor, and the furniture here was less chrome and more dark leather. Still didn’t seem to fit in a Victorian building, but it was less startling to the senses than the first-floor decor. But, Lilah told herself, she wasn’t here to critique the results of what some designer had done to the stately old building. Instead, she was here to face down the man now standing up behind his desk.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what do you know about my sister Spring?”

His voice was deep, rumbling around the room like thunder. He was tall—easily six feet three or four—with thick black hair expensively trimmed to look casual. He wore a black, pin-striped suit and a white dress shirt accented with a red power tie. His shoulders were broad, his jaw square, his eyes green, and as they focused on her, they didn’t look friendly.

Well, she thought, that was fine, since she wasn’t feeling very friendly, either. He was as intimidating as the plush office, and far more attractive—which had nothing to do with anything, she reminded herself.

Still, she was glad she’d taken care with her appearance before this meeting. At home, she went days without even bothering with makeup. Today, she wore her own version of a power suit. Black slacks, red shirt and short red jacket. Her black boots had a two-inch heel, adding to her five-foot-six-inch height. She was as prepared for this meeting as it was possible to be. Which wasn’t saying much.

“I’m Lilah Strong.”

“I was told who you are,” he said. “What I don’t know is why you’re here.”

“Right.” She took a deep breath, then blew it out again. Deliberately striding across the floor in a quick march, she heard her heels click on the wood then soften on the rugs as she approached him. When she was so close she caught a whiff of his aftershave—a subtle scent that reminded her of the forests at home—she stopped. With his wide, black matte desk between them, she looked into his deep green eyes and said, “Spring was my friend. That’s why I’m here. She asked me to do something for her and I couldn’t say no. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“All right.”

That deep voice seemed to reverberate inside her, leaving her more shaken than she wanted to admit. Why was he so gorgeous? Why did the wary look in his eyes seem sexy rather than irritating? And why was she letting an unwanted attraction scatter her thoughts?

“I’m curious.” His gaze flicked briefly to Lilah’s friend before shifting back to her. “Do you usually bring your baby with you to meetings?”

She lifted her chin and glanced down at the baby girl on her left hip. Here was the reason for leaving home, for facing down a man with ice in his eyes. If it had been up to her, Lilah never would have come. She wouldn’t be standing here in Reed Hudson’s office with a ball of cold lead in the pit of her stomach. But this wasn’t her choice and no matter how hard it was, she would do as Spring had asked.

Rosie slapped both hands together and squealed. Lilah’s answering smile faded as she turned her gaze back to the man watching her.

“Rose isn’t my baby,” she said, with more than a twinge of regret as she met his gaze coolly. “She’s yours.”


Two (#ulink_ac93d4e5-7132-5e83-90ed-0c3db6cd6e2f)

Instantly, Reed went on red alert.

The cold, dispassionate demeanor that had made him a legend in court dropped over him like a familiar jacket. The woman looking at him as if he were a worm, just slithering out from under a rock, was beautiful but clearly delusional.

Over the years, there had been a few predatory women who’d tried to convince him they were pregnant with his child. But, since he was always careful, he’d been able to get rid of them easily enough. And this woman, he’d never been with. That he was sure of, since a man didn’t forget a woman like this one.

“I don’t have a baby.” The very idea was ludicrous. Given his background, his family, his career, if there was one lesson he’d learned it was don’t build a family of his own. Since he was sixteen, he’d never been without a condom. “If that’s all,” he continued briskly, “you can show yourself out.”

“Nice,” she commented with a slow shake of her head.

The tone of her voice caught his attention. It was just as coolly dismissive as his own. His gaze caught hers and he couldn’t mistake the anger and disdain shining in those clear blue eyes. “Problem?”

“No more than I expected from a man like you,” she countered and bounced a little, as if to entertain the baby babbling on her hip.

“A man like me,” he repeated, curious now. “And you know me, how?”

“I know that you were Spring’s brother and that you weren’t there to help her when she needed it.” Her words rushed out as if flowing on a tide of fury. “I know that when you see a child who looks just like your sister you don’t even ask a question.”

His eyes narrowed. “My sister.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s what I said.” Briefly, she looked at the baby and her mouth curved slightly. “Her name is Rose and she’s Spring’s daughter.” At the mention of her name, the tiny girl bounced in place and slapped her hands against the woman’s shoulder. “That’s right, Rosie. You’re your mommy’s girl, aren’t you?”

As if in answer, the baby clapped tiny hands and chortled in some weird baby version of a giggle. And while the two of them smiled at each other, Reed shifted his gaze from the lovely woman to the baby in her arms. Spring’s daughter. Now that he knew, now that he wasn’t on automatic defense, he could see his sister’s features, miniaturized on her child. Fine, black hair curling about a rounded face. Eyes so green they shone like emeralds—the same shade as Spring’s.

As his own, come to that.

Instantly, without even being told, he knew his sister was gone. Spring had looked all her life for real love. There wasn’t a chance in hell she ever would have left her daughter if she’d had a choice.

And the baby was clearly a Hudson. Then there was the fact that even in so small a child, he saw the stubborn chin his sister had boasted. Spring had a daughter he’d known nothing about. He understood the woman’s anger now. Her accusation of not being there for Spring when she needed him most. But he would have been, he assured himself silently. If she’d come to him, he’d have—how was it possible that she hadn’t come to him? Everyone in his family came to him for help. Why hadn’t Spring?

Then he remembered the last time he saw his younger sister. More than two years ago, Spring had come to him, wanting him to arrange for an advance on her trust. She’d been in love. Again.

Frowning, he remembered his reaction, too. Spring was one of those people who went through life wearing rose-colored glasses. She saw only the best in people—even those who had no best at all. Spring refused to recognize that some people simply weren’t worth her loyalty or her affection.

It had been the third time she’d been in love—and that last time was just like the others before had been. Without fail, Spring seemed to migrate toward men with few morals, little ambition and less money. He’d always thought it was because Spring thought she could “save” them. And that never worked.

Always on the lookout for love, she would invariably end up in Reed’s office asking for money to pay off the latest loser so she could move on with her life. But that last time, Reed had been forewarned by yet another sister. Savannah had met Spring’s lover and she’d been worried enough that she’d called Reed. He’d run a background check on Spring’s love of the moment and found a criminal background—fraud, identity theft and forgery. But Spring hadn’t wanted to hear the warnings. She had insisted that Coleman Bates had changed. That he deserved a second chance.

Reed recalled clearly telling her that the man had had a second chance—even a third—and hadn’t changed. But Spring was in love and wouldn’t listen. Standing there now, though, in front of the child she’d left behind, Reed frowned, remembering he’d told Spring to grow the hell up and stop expecting him to sweep in and take care of whatever mess she created. Hurt, angry, Spring had walked out of his office. So later, when she’d really needed him, his sister hadn’t called on Reed. And now it was too late for him to make it up to her.

A swift stab of guilt pierced the edges of Reed’s heart but he fought it back. Regret was indulgence. It wouldn’t help Spring, couldn’t ease the pain of her loss. He’d done what he thought was best for his sister at the time. For the family. And if she had come to him for help in extricating herself from the relationship, he assured himself, he would have done all he could for her. Now all he could do was find answers.

“What happened to Spring?”

“She died two months ago.”

He gritted his teeth as the harsh truth shook him to his bones. He’d known it, felt it, but somehow hearing it made it harder. A quick, sharp slash of pain tore at him and was immediately buried beneath a fresh wave of regret, sorrow. Reed scrubbed one hand across his face then focused on the baby again before shifting to meet Lilah Strong’s clear blue eyes. “That’s hard to hear.”

Spring was his half sister on his father’s side and five years younger than Reed. She’d always been so bright, so happy, so damn trusting. And now she was gone.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it so abruptly.”

Shaking his head, he stared into those eyes of hers. So blue, they were nearly violet. They shone with sympathy he didn’t want and didn’t need. His pain was private. Not something he would share with anyone, let alone a stranger.

To cover the turmoil raging within, he said simply, “There is no way to soften news like that.”

“You’re right. Of course, you’re right.” Those eyes shifted, changed with her emotions, and now he read grief of her own mingling with a simmering anger in their depths.

He was no more interested in that than he was in her sympathy.

“What happened to my sister?”

“There was a car accident,” she said simply. “Someone ran a red light...”

His eyes narrowed. “Drunk driver?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and patting the baby’s back all at once. “An elderly man had a heart attack. He was killed in the accident, as well.”

So there was no one to hold responsible. No one to be furious with. To blame. Reed was left with an impotent feeling that he didn’t care for.

“You said this happened two months ago,” he said quietly, thoughtfully. “Why are you only coming to me now?”

“Because I didn’t know about you,” she said, then looked around the office. “Look, the baby needs a change. Do you mind if we take this conversation over to the couch?”

“What?”

She was already headed for his black leather sofa. Before he could say anything, she’d set the infant down and reached into what had to be a diaper bag slung over her shoulder for supplies.

Struck dumb by the action, he only watched as she expertly changed the baby’s diaper, then handed the folded-up used one to him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Reluctantly, it seemed, her mouth curved and damned if he didn’t like the look of it.

“Um,” she said wryly, “I’d go for throwing it away.”

Stupid. Of course. He glanced at his small office trash can, then shook his head, crossed to the door and opened it. Signaling to his assistant, he held out the diaper and ordered, “Dispose of this.”

“Yes, sir.” Karen accepted the diaper as she would have an explosive device, then turned away.

Once the door was closed again, Reed looked at the baby, now standing alongside the glossy black coffee table, smacking both hands on the surface and laughing to herself. Shaking his head, he thought of Spring and felt another quick twinge of pain. Still watching the baby, he asked Lilah, “What did you mean you didn’t know about me until now?”

She tossed that thick mass of wavy red-gold hair behind her shoulder and looked up at him as she repacked the baby’s supplies. “I mean, that until last week, I didn’t know Spring had a family. She never talked about you. About any relatives at all. I thought she was alone.”

That stung more than he would have thought possible. His sister had wiped him from her life? So much so that her best friend didn’t even know of his existence? He scrubbed one hand across his face and regretted that last conversation with his sister. Maybe he could have been kinder. More understanding. But he’d assumed, as he supposed everyone did, that there would be more time. That he would, once again, be called on to dig Spring out of trouble, and so he’d been impatient and now she was gone and the chance to make things right had vanished with her.

“She left two letters,” Lilah said and held out an envelope toward him. “I read mine. This one is yours.”

Reed took it, checked that it was still sealed, then noted Spring’s familiar scrawl across the front. He glanced at the baby, still entertaining herself, then he opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

Reed. If you’re reading this, I’m dead. God, that’s a weird thought. But if Lilah brought you this letter, she’s also brought you my daughter. I’m asking you to take care of her. Love her. Raise her. Yes, I know I could ask Mom or one of my sisters, but honestly, you’re the only one in our family I can really count on.

Well, that hit him hard, considering that in their last conversation he hadn’t given her the help she’d wanted. Gritting his teeth, he went back to the letter.

Rosie needs you, Reed. I’m trusting you to do the right thing because you always do. Lilah Strong has been my friend and my family for almost two years, so play nice. She’s also been Rosie’s “other mother,” so she can answer any questions you have and she can be a big help to you.

As usual, you were right about Coleman. He left as soon as I got pregnant. But before he left, I got him to sign away his rights to Rosie. She doesn’t need him in her life.

I love you, Reed, and I know Rosie will, too. So thanks in advance—or from the grave. Whichever. Spring.

He didn’t know whether to smile or howl. The letter was so like Spring—making light of a situation that most people wouldn’t think about. In seconds, vignettes of Spring’s life raced through Reed’s mind. He saw her as a baby, a child who followed him around whenever they were together, a teenager who loved nothing more than shocking her parents and finally, a woman who never found the kind of love she’d always searched for.

He folded the paper slowly, then tucked it away again before he let himself look at Spring’s child. The baby was clearly well cared for, loved...happy.

Now it was up to him to see that she stayed that way. At that thought everything in Reed went cold and still. He knew what his duty was. Knew what Spring would expect of him. But damned if he knew a thing about babies.

“I see panic in your eyes.”

Instantly, Reed’s normal demeanor dropped over him. He sent Lilah a cool stare. “I don’t panic.”

“Really?” she said, clearly not believing him. “Because your expression tells me you’re wishing Rosie and I were anywhere but here.”

He didn’t appreciate being read so easily. Reed had been told by colleagues and judges alike that his poker face was the best in the business. Knowing one small baby and one very beautiful woman had shattered his record was a little humbling. But no need to let her know that.

“You’re wrong. What I’m wondering is what I’m going to do next.” And that didn’t come easy to him, either. Reed always had a plan. And a backup plan. And a plan to use if the backup failed. But at the moment, he was at a loss.

“What you’re going to do?” The woman stood up, smiled down at the baby then turned a stony stare on him. “You’re going to take care of Rosie.”

“Obviously,” he countered. The question was, how? Irritated, he pushed one hand through his hair and muttered, “I’m not exactly prepared for a baby.”

“No one ever is,” Lilah told him. “Not even people who like to plan their lives down to the last minute. Babies throw every plan out the nearest window.”

“Wonderful.”

Rosie squealed until the sound hit a pitch Reed was afraid might make his ears bleed. “That can’t be normal.”

Lilah laughed. “She’s a happy baby.”

Tipping her head to one side, Lilah watched him. “After I found out about Spring’s family, I did some research. I know you have a lot of siblings, so you must be used to babies.”

Another irritation, that he’d been looked into, though he knew potential clients did it all the time. “Yeah, a lot of siblings that I usually saw once or twice a year.”

“Not a close family,” she mused.

“You could say that,” Reed agreed. Hard to be close, though, when there were so damn many of them. You practically needed a spreadsheet just to keep track of his relatives.

“My family’s not at issue right now,” he said, shifting his gaze away from blue eyes trying to see too much to the baby looking up at him with Spring’s eyes. “Right now, I’ve got a problem to solve.”

Lilah sighed. “She’s not a problem, she’s a baby.”

Reed flicked Lilah a glance. “She’s also my problem. Now.”

He would take care of her, raise her, just as his sister had wanted. But first, he had to get things lined up. He’d made his fortune, survived his wildly eclectic family, by having a plan and sticking to it. The plan now entailed arranging for help in taking care of Spring’s daughter.

He worked long hours and would need someone on site to handle the child’s day-to-day needs. It would take a little time to arrange for the best possible nanny. So the problem became what to do with the baby until he could find the right person.

His gaze settled on Lilah Strong. And he considered the situation. She already knew and cared about the baby. Yes, she still looked as though she’d like to slap him, but that didn’t really matter, did it? What was important was getting the baby settled in. He had a feeling he could convince this woman to help him with that. If he offered her enough money to compensate her for her time.

He knew better than most just how loudly money could talk to those who didn’t have any. “I have a proposition for you.”

Surprise, then suspicion, flashed in her blue eyes just before they narrowed on him. “What sort of proposition?”

“The sort that involves a lot of money,” he said shortly, then turned and walked to his desk. Reaching into the bottom drawer, he pulled out a leather-bound checkbook and laid it, open and ready, on top of his desk. “I want to hire you to stay for a while. Take care of the baby—”

“Her name is Rosie...”

“Right. Take care of Rosie then, until I can arrange for a full-time nanny.” He picked up a pen, clicked it into life then gave her a long, cool look. “I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Her mouth dropped open and she laughed shortly, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. Fine. If she was unable to come up with a demand, he’d make an offer and they could negotiate from there. “Fifty thousand dollars,” he said easily.

“Fifty?” Her eyes were wide. Astonished.

“Not enough? All right, a hundred thousand.” Normally, he might have bid lower, but this was an emergency and he couldn’t afford to have her say no.

“Are you crazy?”

“Not at all,” he said with a shrug to emphasize that the money meant nothing to him. “I pay for what I need when I need it. And, as I believe it will take me at least a week or two to find and hire an appropriate nanny, I’m willing to buy interim help.”

“I’m not for sale.”

He smiled now. How many times had he heard that statement just before settling on the right amount? Everyone had a price—the only challenge came in finding the magic number. “I’m not trying to buy you,” Reed assured her, “just rent you for a week or two.”

“You have enough arrogance for two or three people,” she said.

He straightened up, shot her a level look. “It’s not arrogance. It’s doing what needs to be done. I can do that with your help—which allows you to continue to be a part of the child’s—”

“Rosie’s—”

“—life,” he finished with a nod at her correction. “You can stay, make sure the person I hire is right for the job. Or, you can leave and go home now.”

Of course, he didn’t believe for a moment that she would leave the baby until she was absolutely sure of the child’s well-being. That was written all over her face. Her body language practically screamed defensive mode. And he would use her desire to protect the baby for his own purposes. Reed Hudson always got what he wanted. Right now, that included Lilah Strong.

He could see her thinking and it wasn’t difficult to discern her thoughts from the expressions flitting across her features. She was still furious with him for whatever reasons, but she wasn’t ready to walk away from the baby yet. She would need to see for herself that Rosie was settled into her new home.

So, whether she realized it or not, Lilah Strong would do exactly what Reed wanted.

“I’ll stay,” she said finally, still watching the baby stagger around the coffee table like a happy drunk. “Until you’ve found the right nanny.”

Then she turned and looked at Reed. “But I won’t be paid. I won’t be rented. I’ll do it for Rosie. Not you.”

He hid a smile. “Good. Now, I’ve a few more appointments this afternoon, so why don’t you and the—” he caught himself and said instead “—Rosie head over to my place. I’ll be there at about six.”

“Fine,” she said. “Where do you live?”

“My assistant, Karen, will give you all of the particulars.” He checked the platinum watch on his wrist. “For now...”

“Fine. You’re busy. I get it.” She slung the diaper bag over her shoulder, then reached down to scoop up the baby. Once Rosie was settled on her hip, she looked up at him. “I’ll see you later then. We can talk about all of this.”

“All right.” He kept the satisfaction he felt out of his voice. She walked past him and her scent seemed to reach out for him. Lemons, he thought. Lemons and sage. It was every bit as tantalizing as the woman herself.

He watched her go, his gaze sliding from the lush fall of that golden red hair down to the curve of a first-class behind. His body stirred as her scent seemed to sink deep inside him, making him want things that would only complicate an already messy situation.

Knowing that, though, didn’t ease the hunger.

* * *

“You live in a hotel?” Lilah demanded the moment Reed walked through the door later that afternoon.

For hours, she’d wandered the expansive suite, astonished at the luxury, the oddity, of anyone actually living in a hotel. Okay, her own mother and stepfather lived on board a cruise ship, traveling constantly from country to country. They enjoyed being somewhere different every day, though it would have driven Lilah crazy.

But living in a hotel? When there were a zillion houses to choose from? Who did that? Well, all right, she’d heard of movie stars doing it, but Reed Hudson was a lawyer, for heaven’s sake. Granted, a very successful, obviously very rich lawyer, but still. Didn’t the man want a home? A hotel was so...impersonal.

Though she’d noticed a lot of framed photos of what had to be members of his family scattered throughout the two-bedroom, two-bath suite. So, she told herself, he wasn’t as separate from the Hudson clan as he pretended. That made her feel both better and worse.

Better because Rosie would have more family than just this one seemingly cold and distant man. But worse because if he did care about his family, why hadn’t he been there for Spring when she’d needed him?

He shut the door behind him, then simply stood there, staring at her. Those green eyes of his seemed to spear right through her and Lilah could only imagine how good he must be in court. Any opposing witness would quail beneath that steady, cool stare.

“You have a problem with the hotel suite?” He tucked both hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“It’s lovely and you know it.” And, unlike his office, the space was decorated in more than black, chrome and gray.

The living room was wide and dotted with twin lemon-yellow chairs opposite a sky blue sofa, all of them overstuffed and just begging someone to drop in and relax for a while. The tables were a honey-colored wood and the rugs on the tile floor were splashes of jewel tones. There was an oak dining set at the edge of a small, stocked wet bar, and a grouping of cream-colored lounge chairs on the terrace ran the length of the suite. Each of the two bedrooms was done in shades of cream and green and the bathrooms were luxurious, spa-like spaces with stand-alone tubs big enough to hold a party in and showers studded with full-body sprays.

From the terrace, there was a spectacular view of the ocean in the distance, with the meticulously cared-for golf course and a sea of red-tiled roofs in the surrounding neighborhood closer up. The hotel itself looked like a castle plunked down in the middle of a beach city and felt light-years away from her own home, a cabin in the mountains.

Though it was much smaller than this hotel suite, her cabin afforded beautiful views, too, of a lake and the mountains and a meadow that in spring was dotted with wildflowers and the deer that came to graze through it. She was out of her element here and that made her feel slightly off balance. Which, Lilah told herself, was not a good thing when dealing with a man like Reed Hudson.

“Where’s the baby?” he asked, his gaze shifting around the room before settling on her again.

“Rosie—” she emphasized the baby girl’s name “—is asleep in the crib the hotel provided.” Honestly, how was he going to be a parent to the little girl if he couldn’t even seem to say her name?

“Good.” He slipped out of his jacket, tossed it across the back of a chair and walked toward the wet bar near the gas fireplace. As he reached for a bottle of scotch, he loosened the precise knot of his tie and opened the collar of his shirt. Why that minor action should strike Lilah as completely sexy, she couldn’t have said.

“I called ahead,” Reed was saying. “Told Andre you were coming and to see that you had everything you needed.”

“Andre.” Lilah thought back to the moment she’d entered the hotel to be greeted by an actual butler. If it hadn’t been for the man’s friendly smile and eagerness to help, she might have been completely intimidated by the snooty accent and his quiet efficiency. “He was wonderful. Couldn’t do enough to help us and Rosie loved him. But I can’t believe this suite comes with a butler.”

One corner of his mouth quirked as he poured himself a scotch. “Andre’s more than a butler. Sometimes I think he’s a miracle worker.”

“I’m convinced,” she admitted. “He arranged for the crib and had a wide selection of baby food stocked in your pantry. He even provided a bright blue teddy bear that Rosie already loves.”

Reed smiled and even from across the room Lilah felt the punch of it. If anything, her sense of balance dissolved just a bit more.

“You want a drink?”

She thought about refusing, simply because she wasn’t ready to relax around him yet. But after the day she’d had... “Wine, if you have it. White.”

He nodded, got the wine from the refrigerator and poured her a glass. Carrying both drinks to the sofa, he sat down and handed the wine to her when she joined him, taking a seat on the opposite corner.

Lilah took a sip, let the wine settle her a bit. Being this close to Reed Hudson was a little unnerving. The anger she’d been living with for the past few weeks still simmered deep inside her, but looking at him now, she had to admit it wasn’t only anger she was feeling. She had another slow sip of wine and reminded herself just why she was there.

“Why are you so willing to raise Rosie?” she asked, her voice shattering the silence.

He studied the golden scotch in the heavy glass tumbler for a long moment before taking a swallow. “Because Spring asked me to.”

“Just like that.”

He looked at her, his green eyes as clear and sharp as emeralds under a spotlight. “Just like that. The baby—Rosie—” he corrected before she could “—is a Hudson. She’s family and I look out for my family.”

“Enough to change your whole life?”

A wry smile curved his mouth briefly. “Life’s always changing,” he mused. “With a family like mine, nothing ever stays the same.”

“Okay, but...” Waving one hand to encompass the elegant surroundings, Lilah said, “You’re not exactly living in a baby-friendly environment.”

“I know.” His gaze slipped around the open room, then he nodded at her. “That’s one of the reasons you’re here. You’ve got more experience with babies than I do. So you’ll know how to baby-proof this place temporarily.”

“Temporarily?” she asked.

“Obviously, I’ll need a house,” he said, taking another drink of his scotch. “Until now, the hotel’s worked well for me. Butler service, daily maids and twenty-four-hour room service.”

“It does sound good,” she admitted, but didn’t think she’d be able to live in such a cutoff, sterile environment for long.

“But a baby changes things,” he added, with a slight frown into his glass.

“Yeah, they really do.”

Abruptly, he pushed to his feet and reached out for her hand.

“What?” she asked.

One eyebrow winged up. “Don’t be so suspicious. Just come with me for a minute.”

She placed her hand in his and completely ignored the buzz of something electric that zapped through her. If he felt it, too, he was much better at not showing it than she was. Not a flicker of response shone in his eyes as he pulled her to her feet.

He tugged her behind him as he walked around the sofa, across the room and out onto the terrace, stepping into the encroaching shadows. Then he let her go and walked up to the stone railing, looking out over the view as lights began to wink into existence in the homes below, and a handful of stars began to glitter in the sky.

Lilah followed his gaze briefly, then half turned to watch him instead. His sharp green eyes were narrowed against the cold wind that ruffled his thick, wavy black hair. Somehow he seemed more...approachable. Which should probably worry her.

“I can’t stay here,” he said, his voice soft enough that she leaned in closer so she wouldn’t miss a word. “Rosie will need a yard. And a terrace that doesn’t include a couple-hundred-foot drop to the street.”

Lilah shivered and looked over the edge of the railing. She’d had the same hideous thought herself. A tiny Rosie crawling out to the terrace and somehow climbing up on furniture and pitching right over. Deliberately, she pushed that mental image away and told herself it was good that Reed had come to the decision to move on his own—without her having to mention it.

“So just like that, you’ll buy a house.”

“Just like that,” he assured her, turning to lean one hip against the stone balustrade. “I’ll find something this weekend.”

She laughed. How could she not? Lilah’s friends worked and saved for months, sometimes years to sock away enough money to maybe look for a house. Reed Hudson would simply pull out his magic checkbook. “Is everything so easy then?”

“Not easy,” he assured her, his green eyes meeting and holding hers. “But if there’s one thing I know—it’s that if you want something, you go get it.”


Three (#ulink_8b80fbf0-6b06-5c7a-98be-efb91b8d065b)

Oddly enough, Lilah could understand that statement. Okay, the spur-of-the-moment buying of a house was way out of her league, but the attitude was something she believed in. Going after what you wanted and not giving up until you had it.

Isn’t that how she’d run her own life?

How strange that she found herself agreeing with a man she’d expected to loathe on general principle. But as much as she was still furious on her friend’s behalf, she had to admit that Spring had left her daughter to Reed’s care. That said something, too, didn’t it?

Spring had loved her daughter more than anything. So Lilah had to assume that there was more to Reed Hudson than she’d seen so far. Rose would not have been entrusted to him if Spring hadn’t believed he could and would love that little girl.

Maybe, Lilah thought, instead of just holding her own anger close and nurturing it, she should give him a chance to show her she was wrong about him.

“How does Rosie fit into your plans?” she asked.

He looked at her for a long minute and Lilah just managed to keep from fidgeting beneath that steady stare. Her hormones were stirring to life, and that was so unexpected. She’d come here reluctantly, to turn over a baby she loved to a man she didn’t know or trust. Now her own body was lighting up in a way she’d never known before, and she didn’t like it. Being attracted to this man wasn’t something she wanted—but her body didn’t seem to care.

Under the gaze from hot green eyes, she shifted uncomfortably and silently told herself to get a grip.

“Rosie’s mine now.” Cool words uttered simply and they drove a knife through her heart.

Instantly, she told herself that she should be glad of it. That’s why she was here, after all. But she’d loved Rose from the moment of her birth. Lilah was Spring’s coach all through labor and delivery and she’d held Rosie herself when the little girl was moments old. She had been a part of the baby’s life from that day on, helping to care for her, worrying about her, loving her. And since Spring’s death more than a month ago, Lilah and Rosie had been a team. A unit. Now she had to give up the child she loved so much and it tore at her.

“I’ll take care of her,” he was saying. “Just as Spring wanted me to.”

“Good,” she muttered, and paused for a sip of wine. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” he said wryly. “I can hear just how pleased you are about it.”

Caught, she shrugged. “No point in pretending, is there?”

“None.” He nodded. “Truth is much easier and far less trouble.”

“Are you sure you’re a lawyer?”

One eyebrow winged up. “Don’t much like lawyers?”

“Does anyone?”

His mouth twitched briefly. “Good point. Though I can say my clients end up very fond of me.”

“I’ll bet,” Lilah muttered. In all of her research, she’d learned just what a shark Reed Hudson was in a courtroom. He was right, his clients did love him, but, oh, his opponents had plenty to say—most of it sour grapes, but still.

Frowning, he gave her a hard, long look and asked, “So is it lawyers you loathe or just me in particular?”

“I don’t know you well enough to loathe you,” she admitted, which wasn’t really answering the question. She gave a sigh, met his gaze and said, “I came here already not liking you much.”

“Yes, that was clear when we met.”

Lilah winced a little. She was never deliberately rude, but her emotions had nearly been choking her. It wasn’t really an excuse, but it was the only one she had. “You’re right. But losing Spring, then having to hand Rosie over to someone I’d never met...”

She watched him think, consider, before he finally nodded. “I can see that,” he acknowledged with another long look into her eyes. “I appreciate loyalty.”

“So do I,” she said and thought they’d finally found some common ground.

“I spoke to our parents,” he said abruptly. “Well,” he amended, “our father, Spring’s mother.”

So strange, Lilah thought, different parents, same family, tangled and twisted threads of connections. Lilah had had no idea that Spring was a member of such a well-known family. Until her death revealed her secrets, Spring had gone by her ex-husband’s last name, Bates. So Lilah hadn’t been at all prepared to face down the powerful Hudson family.

Worry tightened into a coil in the pit of her stomach. What if Spring’s parents wanted Rosie? Would he give the baby over, in spite of Spring’s request that he raise her? And if he wanted to, how could Lilah fight him on it? From what she’d learned about the Hudsons, she had to think their parents were less than interested in their own children. They wouldn’t give Rosie the time or care she needed. Even while a part of her started plotting just what she might do if she had to take on Spring’s parents, Lilah asked, “What did they say?”

He sighed and for the first time he looked more tired than irritated. Or maybe, she thought, resigned was the right word.

“Just what I expected them to say,” he told her with a wry twist to his lips. “My father reminded me that he already has a three-year-old in the house and his wife is about to give birth to another baby.”

She blinked. It sounded strange to hear about siblings born more than thirty years apart.

“And Spring’s mother, Donna, said she’s got no interest in being a grandmother—or in having anyone find out she’s old enough to be a grandmother.”

“Not very maternal, is she?”

“The words alley cat spring to mind,” he admitted. “My father has interesting taste in women. Anyway, I told them both that Spring left her child to me. I was only calling them to give them a heads-up.”

A quiet sigh of relief slid from Lilah’s lungs. He didn’t sound as though he had any interest in handing Rosie over to those people, so one worry down. “So basically,” she said through the quiet sigh of relief, “they’re leaving Rosie with you.”

He looked at her. “I wouldn’t have given Rose to them even if they’d wanted her—which I was certain they wouldn’t.”

Now surprise flickered to life inside her. Lilah would have expected him to want someone to relieve him of the baby. Hearing him say just the opposite made her wonder about him. “Why?”

Frowning, he took a drink, then said, “First and most importantly, Spring asked me to take care of her daughter.”

Lilah nodded. She understood and appreciated that he would take his sister’s request to heart. In everything she’d read about him, he was a cold, merciless attorney. What she hadn’t known about was the loyalty she saw now, etched into his expression.

And even though her heart ached at the thought of going home and leaving Rosie behind...Lilah felt a bit better about going knowing that at least Reed would do what his own sense of duty demanded. It wasn’t enough for a child to grow on. A child needed love before anything else. But it was a start.

Still, she asked, “What else? What aren’t you saying?”

His mouth firmed into a tight line as he shifted his gaze from hers to the ocean, where the dying sun layered brilliant streaks of red and gold across the water. “Your parents,” he asked, “still together?”

A bittersweet pang of old pain shot through her chest. “They were,” she said quietly, watching his profile as he studied the sea as if looking for answers. “Until my father died in an avalanche five years ago.”

He looked at her then, briefly. “I’m sorry.”

“So were we,” she said, remembering that loss and how keenly it had been felt. “A couple of years ago, though, my mother met someone. He’s a very nice man and he makes her happy. They were married a year ago, and now they spend all of their time traveling.”

Stan was retired, having sold his business for millions more than ten years ago. When he met Lilah’s mother on a ski run in Utah, it really had been love at first sight, for both of them. And though it had been hard to accept that her mother could love someone other than Lilah’s father, she couldn’t deny how happy Stan made her mom.

Curiosity sparked in his eyes. “Going where?”

“Everywhere, really,” she said, with a half laugh. “Mom and Stan live on a cruise ship, going from port to port and, according to my mother’s emails, having a wonderful time.”

Now he turned, a small smile curving his mouth, and looked down at her. “You were surprised that I live in a hotel, but your own mother lives on a cruise ship.”

She shrugged. “But a hotel’s on land. Near houses. A cruise ship is something else again.”

“Odd logic.”

Smiling, she said, “It works for me.”

“Yeah.” He turned his face into the wind again and said, “So, my family’s different. They like having children, they just don’t like having them around. Nannies, governesses and boarding schools are the favorite child-rearing tools for the Hudsons.”

Before she could say anything about that, he went on, “Spring hated it. It was a kind of torture for her to be locked away in a school she couldn’t leave.” He swiveled his head and stared at her. “How could I give Rose over to people who would only do the same thing to her that they did to her mother? No.”

Warmth opened up in the center of her chest and Lilah was caught off guard. The cold, hard lawyer seemed to have disappeared and she didn’t know quite what to make of the man he was now.

“You’ve agreed to stay,” he was saying, and Lilah came up out of her thoughts to listen.

“For a while, yes.” For Rosie. For Lilah’s own sake, she would stay until she was sure the baby girl would be safe. Happy. She’d closed her artisanal soap shop temporarily and could run the online business from her laptop, so there was no rush to get home.

Reed had wanted to pay her to stay. What he didn’t realize was he would have had to pay her to leave.

“Then you can help me choose the house.” He finished off his scotch. “And furnish it. I won’t have time for a decorator.”

Stunned, she just looked at him. “You want me to—”

“Don’t all women like shopping?”

She laughed shortly. “That’s completely sexist.”

“Sue me. Am I wrong?”

“No, but that’s not the point,” she said.

“It’s exactly the point. You’ll have free rein,” he tempted her. “You can pick out the furnishings that’ll make the house baby friendly.”

Help choose the kind of house Rosie would grow up in? How could she refuse? Shopping to outfit an entire house on someone else’s dime? What woman wouldn’t accept that offer? Besides, if left to his own devices, Lilah was sure he’d furnish the whole place in black and white, and that thought was just too hideous to contemplate.

“Free rein?” she repeated, wanting his assurances.

“That’s what I said.”

“So you’re okay with lots of color.”

His eyes narrowed. “How much color?”

He was worried and that made her smile. “Free rein,” she reminded him.

* * *

Buying a house wasn’t that difficult when you were willing to pay any price to get what you wanted when you wanted it. The Realtor quickly decided that Lilah was the person she needed to convince, and so Reed was able to hang back and watch the show. He had to admit, Lilah was picky, but she knew what would work and what wouldn’t. She wasn’t easily swayed by the Realtor’s practiced patter about square footage, views and school districts. He admired that.

But then, he was finding the whole package of Lilah Strong intriguing. She wasn’t sure of him still, so there was a simmer of anger about her he couldn’t miss. Most women he knew were cautious enough to only let him see carefully constructed smiles. They laughed at his jokes, sighed at his kiss and in general tried to make themselves into exactly what he might want.

Strange, then, that the woman who didn’t care what he thought of her was the one he found the most intriguing. Hell, watching her move through an empty house, the Realtor hot on her heels, was entertaining. And damned if the view wasn’t a good one.

She wore a long-sleeved white button-down shirt with a sleek black vest over it. Her blue jeans hugged a great behind and an excellent pair of legs, and black boots with a two-inch heel completed the look. Casual elegance. Her reddish-gold hair hung loose to the middle of her back in a cascade of waves that made him want to bury his hands in the thick mass.

But then, he remembered she’d looked damn good the night before, too, wearing only a sky blue nightgown that stopped midthigh.

He woke up at the sound of the baby crying and realized that this was his new reality. Rose was his now and he took care of what was his.

Moving through the darkened suite, he walked to the room Rose and Lilah were sharing, gave a brief knock and opened the door. Lilah was standing in a slice of moonlight, the baby held close to her chest. She was swaying in place and whispering things Reed couldn’t make out.

“Is she all right?” he asked, keeping his own voice hushed.

“Just a little scared,” Lilah told him, giving the baby soothing pats as she rocked her gently. “New place.”

“Right.” Wearing only a pair of cotton sleep pants, he walked barefoot across the room and scooped Rose right out of Lilah’s arms, cradling the baby to his chest.

For a moment, it looked as though Rose would complain. Loudly. But the baby stared at him for a long minute, then sighed and laid her little head down on his shoulder.

That one action melted something inside him and felt...powerful. He held that tiny life close, felt her every breath, every shuddering sigh, and knew in that one shining moment he would do anything to keep her safe.

Then he looked into Lilah’s eyes and found her measuring him. Her hair was a tangle of curls around her face, her eyes were wary and she crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her breasts high enough that he got a glimpse of cleavage at the V-neck of her nightgown.

“Sorry she woke you,” Lilah said, voice soft as a feather.

“I’m not,” he said, surprised to find it was nothing but the truth. “We have to get used to each other, don’t we?”

“Yes, I guess you do.” She reached out one hand to smooth her palm over Rosie’s dark curls. “She’s usually a good sleeper, but her routine’s a little messed up right now.”

“She’ll get a new routine soon.”

At that, Lilah let her hand drop to her side and stared up at him. “Are you ready for that?”

He looked down at the baby asleep on his shoulder. “I will be.”

And in the quiet of the night, with a sleeping baby between them, he and Lilah watched each other in the silence.

Reed had wondered then, as he did now, if she had felt the heat that snapped and sizzled between them.

Today, her blue eyes were sharp and clear as she inspected the kitchen of the fifth house they’d seen that morning. She stepped out onto a brick patio, with the Realtor hot on her heels. Reed walked out after them, listening to their conversation.

“I like that there’s a fence around the pool,” Lilah said, looking at it as if she could judge its strength with the power of her gaze.

“Electronic locks with a parental control,” the Realtor said, giving a wide, plastic smile as she smoothed black hair so stiff that it probably wouldn’t have moved even if she were in the middle of a tornado. “There’s a top-of-the-line security system in the house as well, and both remotes are accessible in the garage as well as the house.”

“Security,” Lilah mused thoughtfully. “So this isn’t a good neighborhood?”

The Realtor paled while Reed smothered a smile.

“This is one of the finest neighborhoods in Laguna,” the Realtor protested. “A security system is simply for peace of mind.”

Reed saw the humor in Lilah’s eye and knew she was just giving the other woman a hard time.

“I do like this yard,” she said, turning in a slow circle to admire the picture.

Reed did as well, and he had to admit that of the houses they’d seen so far that morning, he preferred this one. The house itself was a larger version of a California bungalow. It had charm, character but plenty of room, and it wasn’t sitting on top of its neighbors. He liked that. Reed also liked the yard. The pool took up a third of the lot, but alongside it ran a wide green swath of lawn that would give a kid plenty of room to run. There were trees and flower beds, and since they were situated high on a hill, there were spectacular views of the ocean. The brick terrace boasted an outdoor living space, complete with a backyard kitchen, and the interior of the house was just as perfect. Five bedrooms, five baths and a kitchen that looked fine to him and had had Lilah sighing.

Standing in a tree-dappled patch of shade, Lilah looked at him. “What do you think?”

Both women were watching him, but Reed’s gaze met Lilah’s alone. “I think it’ll work.”

The Realtor laughed sharply. “Work? It’s a fabulous piece of property. Completely redone two years ago, from the roof to the flooring. It’s only been on the market for three days and it’s priced to sell and—”

Never taking his gaze from Lilah’s, Reed held up one hand for silence and hardly noticed as the Realtor’s voice faded away.

Lilah grinned at the woman’s reaction to his silent command. “I like it.”

“Me, too,” Reed said, and spared a glance for the Realtor. “I’ll take it. Have the paperwork drawn up and delivered to me at the Monarch this afternoon—”

“This afternoon? I don’t know that I can get it all done that quickly and—”

Now he shot the woman a look he generally reserved for hostile witnesses on the stand. “I have every confidence you will. And, while you’re working, you should know there’s a nice bonus in it for you if you arrange for a seven-day escrow.”

“Seven—”

“And,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, “since I’ll be paying cash for the house, I’d like the keys in five days. Furniture has to be delivered and arranged so that we can move in at the end of the seven days.”




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