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One Heir...Or Two?
Yvonne Lindsay
Will the billionaire dad wed the surrogate mom? Find out with USA TODAY bestselling author Yvonne Lindsay!Kayla Porter vowed to be a surrogate for her deceased sister’s embryos. She’s already given birth to her niece Sienna. But a clinic crisis means she’s running out of time to fulfil her promise. She needs Donovan Murphy’s help—if they can work around the explosive chemistry that’s reignited between them!The tech tycoon agreed to be a sperm donor, not a father. But that changes when he meets his baby daughter Sienna. He will claim his little girl…and her passionate, headstrong mother!


Will the billionaire dad wed the surrogate mom? Find out with USA TODAY bestselling author Yvonne Lindsay!
Kayla Porter vowed to be a surrogate for her deceased sister’s embryos. She’s already given birth to her niece Sienna. But a clinic crisis means she’s running out of time to fulfill her promise. She needs Donovan Murphy’s help—if they can work around the explosive chemistry that’s reignited between them!
The tech tycoon agreed to be a sperm donor, not a father. But that changes when he meets his baby daughter Sienna. He will claim his little girl…and her passionate, headstrong mother!
Kayla stopped the moment her eyes lit on him.
“Good to see you again, Van,” she said in that husky, come to bed voice of hers.
No, she hadn’t changed. Still with the flip attitude.
“I take it you’re the one upsetting my receptionist?”
He saw the surprised hurt reflected in her clear blue gaze and wished he’d thought before speaking.
But that was how it always was with Kayla. She brought out the worst in him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
A rapid pulse beat at the base of her throat, and he remembered just how silky soft her skin had been beneath his tongue, remembered just how she’d tasted. Desire heated his blood but he resisted, hard.
“Kayla, why are you here?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Like I said, I need your help.”
“And a phone call wouldn’t do?”
His secretary arrived in the doorway looking totally nonplussed, and no wonder, because she had a baby in her arms. A baby?
Van looked to Kayla. “Yours, I presume?”
And then the baby looked up and he was struck by the eyes that caught his.
“Yours, too, to be precise,” Kayla said softly.
* * *
One Heir...or Two? is part of Mills & Boon Desire’s No.1 bestselling series, Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men... wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.
One Heir...or Two?
Yvonne Lindsay


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A typical Piscean, USA TODAY bestselling author YVONNE LINDSAY has always preferred her imagination to the real world. Married to her blind-date hero and with two adult children, she spends her days crafting the stories of her heart, and in her spare time she can be found with her nose in a book reliving the power of love, or knitting socks and daydreaming. Contact her via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com (http://www.yvonnelindsay.com).
To my amazing fellow Writers in the Wild,
this book is dedicated to you with grateful thanks
for all your support and companionship on
our magical Tuesday mornings.
Contents
Cover (#u7a7ab536-d7b1-5e8b-8b60-d8e96f4ee722)
Back Cover Text (#u27693af2-46b2-58dd-9776-12a5b3676ec2)
Introduction (#u630ae7d6-0064-56b2-963b-1528eadc10b8)
Title Page (#u4b67e50e-65e3-599e-819c-0dd933fbf319)
About the Author (#u1b024e2e-df64-5581-b52b-a4df83b26fe3)
Dedication (#u14550106-74f8-525c-8893-82c1449de23a)
One (#u62ed9726-e755-52dd-83f6-123774235536)
Two (#ua5fe4a6b-3054-5bfc-969e-6e7c446114b3)
Three (#ub3b09a6e-c661-5bf6-9d09-a4be83025270)
Four (#ua2042cbc-11ab-59e4-8a10-6734a8b95b9e)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#ue1bdcc9f-1437-5722-81be-e99a9203aa6e)
Van slipped the ring into his breast pocket and snapped the lid closed on the jeweler’s box in his hand. The very large near-flawless white diamond was precisely what Dani would expect when he asked her to marry him at lunch today.
He knew that wasn’t all she was expecting. He cast an eye over the merger documents on his desk. The amalgamation of Dani’s family business, Matthews Electronics, and his DM Security would be a match made in corporate heaven. It only made sense to carry their relationship from the boardroom into the bedroom. They were kindred spirits—both focused on their business targets, both leading professional, uncluttered lives and neither of them wanting the burden of parenthood. Neither of them expected—or particularly wanted—passionate love and romance. But they’d share respect, attraction and compatible interests—and what more could he want than that? Yep, life was pretty much perfect for the boy who grew up never feeling like he belonged anywhere, and this ring would help seal the deal.
A subtle ping on his computer screen alerted him to a message from Reception. Using his Bluetooth earpiece, he connected to Anita—his dragon at the gate, as the rest of the staff called her.
“There’s a woman here to see you, Mr. Murphy. She doesn’t have an appointment but she is most insistent.”
He could hear the disapproval in every syllable of Anita’s perfect diction. Despite himself, Van felt a smile tug at his lips.
“Does the woman have a name?” he prompted. Clearly his receptionist was flustered, a reaction infrequent enough to amuse him. It was unlike her not to give him her usual shorthand summary of details that he needed to make a decision about any unexpected visitor.
“She says she’s an old friend and doesn’t need an appointment.”
A prickle of foreboding made the hairs on the back of Van’s neck stand up. That sensation had kept him alive more than once doing his tours of duty and since, in the private sector, and he wasn’t about to ignore it now.
“Get her contact details and tell her to make an appointment to come back. Thank you, Anita.”
A lot could be learned from a name and contact details, especially by a man with his resources. Just before he clicked off the call, he heard a slight commotion in the background.
“No,” he heard Anita say very firmly. “I most definitely will not hold—”
Then all he heard was a scuffling sound. He frowned. What on earth was going on? He didn’t have to wait long to find out. The commotion he’d heard in his earpiece was very definitely coming toward him down the corridor. Van gritted his teeth in frustration. His was a specialized international security company. How secure was it really if someone could walk in off the street and cause this much of a ruckus? He was up and moving from his chair before he even completed the thought, but before he could reach the door to his office, it swung open and a woman swept in. In that split second, every notion, even the breath in his lungs, stalled right where it was.
Kayla Porter.
Damn.
The last time he’d seen her, five years ago, she’d been curled up asleep on the sofa bed of the substandard apartment she’d shared with her late sister. The bed they’d shared for a few intense, incredibly hot hours before he’d pulled himself away.
Kayla stopped in her tracks the moment her eyes lit on him. Five years since he’d last seen her and she hadn’t changed a bit. Still dressed like an escapee hippie from the sixties and still with the long flowing blond hair. He could even remember the scent of the shampoo she’d used back then. Something herbal and sweet and essentially Kayla. The memory was visceral and hit him hard.
“Good to see you again, Van,” she said in that husky “come to bed” voice of hers as she took a few steps into his office.
Her eyes flicked over him, from the top of his head and his precisely mussed, expensive haircut to the tips of his highly polished handmade shoes. She smiled.
“I see you can take the man out of the army but you can’t quite take the army out of the man, right?” she commented with a nod to his gleaming footwear.
No, she hadn’t changed. Still with the flip attitude. Still thinking she was welcome wherever she went and that people would pretty much forgive her anything.
“I take it you’re the one upsetting my receptionist? You couldn’t have made an appointment?”
The second the words were out of his mouth and he saw the surprised hurt reflected in her clear blue gaze, he wished he’d thought before speaking. But that was how it always was with Kayla. She brought out the worst in him. Always had, even when they were kids growing up next door to one another. Granted, she was four years younger than Van and her sister, Sienna, and her nuisance factor had correlated with the age difference. But it hadn’t gotten any easier to deal with her once they’d grown up. Somehow, she always put him on edge, made him feel out of control. And that was why, after their one-night stand, he’d walked away and never looked back. Even though it made him ashamed of himself whenever he thought of it—or remembered how before Sienna had died, he’d promised her he’d always look out for Kayla.
The past always had a habit of biting you in the ass.
“I’m sorry—” he started again, moving toward her. “You’re here now. What can I do for you?”
He tried not to look too closely at where a rapid pulse beat at the base of her throat, because if he did, he’d remember just how silky soft her skin had been beneath his tongue, remember just how she’d tasted. A flush of desire heated his blood but he pushed back, hard. He wasn’t that man anymore. Not driven by emotional and physical need. No, he’d finally learned to control himself and his behavior. Learned not to act on impulse. Learned to weigh and consider and recognize when a situation was just risky or out-and-out dangerous. And for some reason his senses were screaming red alert right now.
Another sound from the corridor outside filtered into his office. A sound that made Kayla turn, a look of dismay on her face.
She moved toward him, her hands outstretched. “Van, I need to talk to you about something important. I really need your help. I—”
Anita arrived in the doorway looking totally nonplussed, and no wonder, because she had a baby in her arms. A baby? Van looked from his flustered receptionist to the strand of pearls clutched in a chubby fist and thrust in a gummy drooling mouth, and then to Kayla again.
“Yours, I presume?” he asked.
And then the baby looked up from her prize and he was struck instantly by the eyes that caught his. Eyes that were identical to the ones that reflected back at him every morning in the mirror.
“Yours, too, to be precise,” Kayla said, softly, finding her voice again.
* * *
Kayla could see Van’s mind casting back to that one night they’d shared after Sienna’s funeral, gauging the age of the baby, doing the math and coming up with numbers that made no sense at all. The baby began to fret and she moved forward to take her from her very reluctant minder. If Kayla’s sitter hadn’t fallen through...well, if her sitter hadn’t up and left her with no notice, her baby girl wouldn’t be here at all.
“Come on, Sienna. We’ll have none of that. Let the nice lady’s necklace go.”
“Sienna?”
Van’s attention, locked for the past minute on the baby, now transferred to her.
“She’s named for her mother. Appropriate, don’t you think?”
Van gave her another hard look, leaving her in no doubt she was in for a grilling. He’d never actually said what he’d done in the Special Forces but she had no doubt that interrogation had probably been on an extensive list of lethal skills.
“Her mother? Sienna?”
Kayla turned to the receptionist, who still hovered in the doorway. “Thank you, I think we’ll be fine now.”
The woman looked from Kayla to Van and back again. Van seemed to come to attention.
“Yes, thank you, Anita. Could you please call Dani and tell her I’ll be delayed for lunch today. Perhaps we can reschedule for dinner instead.”
“Yes, sir, right away. Are you sure about...?” Anita gestured vaguely toward Kayla and the baby.
“I think I can handle them,” he said firmly.
His eyes remained locked on Kayla’s—silently demanding an explanation. At his words, Kayla couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down her spine. Part anticipation, part fear, part sensual memory. But Van had made it perfectly clear when he’d left her without a note or a word since that he was very definitely not interested in her. She shored up her defenses and clutched Sienna to her a little more tightly, earning a surprised squawk from her little girl. Again, she wished she hadn’t had to bring her precious child into this meeting. If she’d had any other choice, she’d have taken it.
As soon as the door closed, Van spoke.
“Kayla, why are you here?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Like I said, I need your help.”
“And a phone call wouldn’t do?”
It stung to hear him sound so dismissive, but it served to strengthen her resolve. “No, it wouldn’t. Last time we saw each other—” Her mouth dried and she swallowed to moisten it. She began again, more resolutely this time. “After Sienna’s funeral, you said to call you if I needed anything.”
“And I meant it. But, Kayla, even you have to realize that you can’t just waltz into my place of business and expect to see me straightaway.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s really important—otherwise I wouldn’t have...”
Darn, she should just come right out with it. She looked up at him and saw a stranger. Gone was the boy next door—the one who’d received more beatings from his father than he’d ever earned, the one who’d allowed her sister to befriend him and bring him into their home, the one who as a teenager had gotten her out of more scrapes than she could remember. Gone was the soldier, gone was the passionate lover who had rocked her entire world. In his place stood a cold, controlled and distant individual. A man so unfamiliar to her now that she began to wonder if she’d ever really known him at all.
“Is it to do with her?” He gestured toward the baby.
“In a way, yes. Do you want to hold her?”
Without waiting for an answer, Kayla crossed the short distance between them and held Sienna out to her father. It should have been a beautiful moment but Van looked alternately horrified and annoyed as he instinctively put his hands out to receive his daughter.
“There, see? She’s not that bad, is she?”
For a second Sienna seemed as though she’d cry and looked back at Kayla, her lip starting to wobble. Kayla forced herself to smile at her baby girl and make an encouraging sound. It seemed to work because Sienna turned her attention back to the man holding her—one dimpled little hand gripping the lapel of his suit jacket, the other reaching up for his mouth. Kayla stifled a giggle at the look on Van’s face. You’d have thought she just handed him a live grenade.
There was a knock at the door to his office and an exquisitely groomed woman walked in without waiting for Van’s response.
“Sorry to bother you, Donovan, but I was already in the parking garage downstairs when Anita called, so I thought—”
She stopped dead in her tracks as she looked at first Kayla, then Van holding a baby.
“I see you’re busy. I’m so sorry. I’ll come back later.”
“No, Dani, wait. Please.”
Van thrust the baby back to Kayla, eliciting a howl of disapproval from Sienna. “Don’t say anything,” he growled quietly at Kayla before moving to the other woman’s side.
Kayla rolled her eyes at him, then faced the new arrival and, juggling Sienna on one hip, put out her free hand. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Kayla. My sister and I grew up with Van.”
The woman moved to accept Kayla’s proffered hand. “Dani Matthews,” she said smoothly but not without directing a speaking look Van’s way.
The look Van shot Kayla could have cut through steel.
“If you’ll excuse us a moment,” Van said to Dani, waiting for her nod of acceptance.
Polished and unflappable, she inclined her head in the most fluid of actions, the movement making the perfectly blunt-edged cut of her hair swoosh forward a moment before reassuming its almost regimental perfection with not a strand out of place. Kayla found herself fascinated by it. How was that even possible with the humidity of a regular San Francisco fog? Her own hair was a perpetual tousle of long blond waves no matter what she did with it.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Take your time,” she replied with a charming curve of her lips, but Kayla could see her eyes remained full of questions.
Without wasting another second, Van took Kayla by her upper arm and steered her out of his office and toward Reception. She made a sound of protest but he ignored it until he’d shown her into a small conference room and the door behind them was closed.
“No more beating around the bush, Kayla. I want answers from you and they had better be good.”
“Van, I wasn’t kidding around. I really need your help.”
Sienna whimpered a little and Kayla smoothed her hand over the baby’s head nervously. Suddenly this didn’t seem like a good idea after all. But she’d thought and thought and she hadn’t been able to come up with any other way she could raise the money she needed.
“What’s wrong with her?” Van demanded, the roughness of his voice making Sienna’s whimper grow louder.
“She’s hungry, and in a strange place. This is messing with her routine. I’m sorry. The timing of this is all out of whack, isn’t it? I should have thought this out a bit better.”
Even now her breasts tingled with that full heavy warning that accompanied nursing.
“You think? But when has that ever stopped you?” he muttered.
She ignored his question. “Five years ago you offered to be there when I needed someone. Did you mean what you said?”
She had to hope that his offer still held. Without it, she had nothing and no one and her plans for the future, her promise to her sister, would all be shattered.
Van flashed a glance at his wristwatch. A Breitling with more whizzes and bangs on it than her food processor, she noted, unimpressed. But his action was a reminder for her, as well. Time was fleeting.
He flung her another look of irritation. “I don’t say anything I don’t mean. How about you explain it to me. You’ve got ten minutes, max.”
“Thank you.”
She moved forward and put her hand on his chest. Even through his suit she could feel the heat that poured from his body, feel the muscled perfection of his chest beneath the expertly tailored fabric. Against her will, her body began to react—her heart rate kicking up a beat, her senses that much more focused. He stared down at her hand and then back at her. She felt a rush of color stain her cheeks and let her hand drop.
* * *
Kayla’s innate ability to push his buttons hadn’t lessened with the time and distance between them. He reined in his impatience and directed her to sit down. The baby fussed again, tugging at Kayla’s top. Mesmerized, he watched as Kayla lifted her blouse and did something with her bra, exposing one breast and guiding her nipple to the baby’s mouth. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a woman breast-feeding and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but he couldn’t help the fascination that poured through him at the sight.
His child—the child he’d never believed would be born—being nurtured, here, right in front of him. Her birth shouldn’t have happened, not with her biological mother dead these five years. But that was one puzzle he didn’t need her to piece together for him. He remembered agreeing to be a donor for Sienna so that she could have embryos stored before starting cancer treatment. The logistics of how this little girl could be his baby and Sienna’s were perfectly clear. What he didn’t know was why—why had Kayla carried his child?
“Explain,” he said curtly, trying to fight the sensation of awe that threatened to overwhelm him.
He hadn’t wanted to be a father—he’d immediately signed his paternity rights away. And that had been before he’d found out the truth about his own birthright. Before he’d learned that the alcoholism that had plagued his birth parents’ lives and seen him removed from their custody as a toddler could, in part at least, be hereditary. Before he’d realized he had been heading down the same path and made a decision that he would never pass that potential legacy on, ever.
“I need money. A loan.”
“That explains why you’re here now but doesn’t explain her.” He pointed at the baby. “Sienna and I had an agreement. If she couldn’t go through with embryo transfer, they’d be donated to research or—”
Destroyed. Even he couldn’t bring himself to say the word out loud. At the time it hadn’t meant all that much to him. But now, faced with living proof? It was another thing entirely.
Kayla filled the silence. “Before she died, she changed her mind. With her lawyer’s help, she amended the paperwork and donated the embryos to me so that the children she’d always wanted would still have a chance. I promised her that her dream would still come true.”
“And now you want money from me for maintenance, is that it? For a child I don’t want?”
The words hung baldly in the air between them. He’d been deliberately provocative with his phrasing and could see Kayla fighting back her instinctive response to snap back—they’d frequently rubbed each other the wrong way in the past and today was a perfect example of that. When she’d composed herself, she spoke.
“Not for maintenance for Sienna, no. You may find it hard to believe, but I didn’t enter into parenthood lightly. I saved hard, I have a job I love and she has had excellent care while I work. But things have changed and I wouldn’t be asking you for help if it wasn’t vitally important. We’ve...” She seemed to choose her next words very carefully. “We’ve suffered a bit of a setback and I just need a loan, until we’re back on our feet.”
“A loan?” He searched her face to see if she was lying. “How much?”
He reached in a pocket for his cell phone, flicked out the stylus, opened a blank memo and put the device on the table next to her. “Here, put your account details in there and I’ll get my bank to transfer the money directly to your account.”
When Kayla didn’t move to pick up the stylus, he paused.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Just like that?”
“Like what?”
“Any sum I mention. You’ll just give it to me?”
That sense of foreboding washed through him again. “What’s this about, Kayla?”
She adjusted the baby in her arms, and when she looked back up at him, he could see her eyes shimmer with tears.
“I miss her. Don’t you?” she whispered.
Van felt his gut twist in a knot. Yes, he missed her sister—she’d been his best friend growing up, after all, and it hurt to think of a world without her in it—but in many ways she was a reminder of his failures, of a past he was none too proud of. After she died, and particularly after that night with Kayla, he’d resolved to never look back, to only look forward.
“Yeah, I do,” he acknowledged. “But we have to move on, right?”
She nodded. “That’s what I’m doing. I’m moving on. I’ve made plans, very specific plans.”
Van’s spider senses were screaming. “Tell me,” he intoned cautiously.
“I’m going to have the rest of your babies, Sienna’s remaining two embryos. I was on track. I was going to space each of the pregnancies two years apart but—”
Whatever she said next was lost in the buzzing sound in his ears. Babies? Everything in him protested. Kayla’s voice finally penetrated the fog.
“—and with the clinic closing down, I can’t wait until I’ve built up my savings account to support two more individual pregnancies. Time is running out.”
A shudder of horror rippled through him. This couldn’t be happening. Not now that he knew about the awful heritage that had been passed down through generations on both sides of his family. And certainly not now that he was on the verge of expanding DM Security and merging not only with Dani Matthews’s company but with the woman herself.
Suddenly the diamond solitaire ring he had in his breast pocket felt like it was burning through the lining of his suit. He and Dani were totally on the same page on this subject. They gave to the community through their philanthropy and their skills. They had no desire to add to the world by having children. In fact, it was something they both specifically planned to avoid. Bad enough that Kayla already had one baby with his DNA. One child with a genetic predisposition for alcoholism was more than enough. But more? Being raised by a mother as flighty and unreliable as Kayla? It was a recipe for disaster.
“No,” he said emphatically.
A small frown pulled between Kayla’s brows. “No, you’re not going to loan me the money?”
“No, you’re not going to have those babies.”
Two (#ue1bdcc9f-1437-5722-81be-e99a9203aa6e)
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s not going to happen. Not again.”
Kayla began to protest. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Five years ago, you said—”
He cut her off. “I will fight you on this with every last cent I have if necessary. I made a mistake agreeing to Sienna’s request to serve as her donor in the first place. I’m not compounding that mistake by assisting you now.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m the one who makes the decisions about what happens with the embryos, not you.”
“Not once my legal team gets a hold of this. I can keep this tied up through the courts for as long as it takes, and I will.”
Who was this man? She barely recognized him. But once upon a time he’d been different. He’d wanted to help. Maybe she could still reach that man somehow. She had to try. For her sister’s sake.
“We both loved her, Van. Don’t you remember why you wanted to help her in the first place? Because you supported her and wanted her to fulfill her dreams. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do here. See her dreams come to fruition.”
“Don’t, Kayla!” He spoke sharply and baby Sienna, startled, popped off her breast.
Kayla quickly covered herself up again. “Don’t what, Van?”
“Don’t try to use Sienna to manipulate me. Everything is different now. Sienna’s dead. Her dream of motherhood died with her,” he said bluntly.
Kayla rose to her feet and rested Sienna against her shoulder, rubbing her little back more for her own comfort than for the child’s.
“No, Van, they didn’t. This beautiful little girl is proof of that. And I’m going to see to it that she doesn’t grow up without a brother or a sister. You, more than anyone, should understand why I’m determined to do that.”
“Be prepared for a long fight, then, because there is no way I’m sanctioning the birth of any more of my children. Not now. Not ever.”
Kayla forced a smile to her lips. “It doesn’t really matter whether you sanction them or not. You have no say. You signed your paternal rights away, remember?”
“Nothing is ever carved completely in stone, Kayla. And I have more than enough money to ensure that you won’t be permitted to go ahead with this.”
“We’ll see about that,” she answered with an equally determined tone. “You know, I feel sorry for you. You’ve become cold and unfeeling. Somewhere in the last five years you lost your heart.”
* * *
Kayla could barely think straight on the drive home. Some of it she put down to hormones. After all, she’d already begun the preparation for the embryo transfer as soon as she got the letter from the clinic to say they were closing. But now she had to decide if she was going to go through with it. And she had to decide whether to go with the single transfer, like she’d done with Sienna, and hope for the best or take the option of a multiple transfer of both remaining embryos with its higher likelihood of a multiple pregnancy. If only she wasn’t on such a short time frame. She’d budgeted so carefully to ensure she could have her sister’s children without putting herself in dire financial straits. It wasn’t cheap raising a kid, but with lots of overtime, diligent planning and a strict savings plan, she’d tucked away a tidy nest egg. But would it stretch to cover a multiple birth? No matter which way she looked at it, she’d be coming up short somewhere.
Well, she told herself optimistically, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t keep working and continuing to build her nest egg for now—even if the cost of day care for Sienna would now eat into her earnings. She wondered why her housemate, Zoe, had just up and left her like that. No notice, no anything. It was just weird. She and Kayla had enjoyed what Kayla thought was a fair arrangement—in exchange for an allowance, room and board, Zoe cared for Sienna while Kayla was at work. Zoe had never once mentioned she was unhappy with their situation.
Mind you, compared to living on the street, as Zoe had been when Kayla met her—down on her luck and down to her last five dollars—staying with Kayla must have been a massive relief. In fact, it was Zoe, an out-of-work child-care provider, who’d suggested she look after Sienna in the first place. So why had she just up and left?
By the time Kayla reached the two-bedroom apartment she rented on the outskirts of Lakeshore, she was no closer to finding an answer. She let herself inside and put Sienna, who’d fallen asleep in the car, into her crib. Kayla paused and gazed lovingly at the little girl. The daughter of her heart, but very much Sienna and Van’s child at the same time.
Why had Van been so distant, so determined that no more of his and Sienna’s children be born? It didn’t make sense. He’d willingly entered into the arrangement with her sister.
Well, whatever, she would still go ahead. She’d made a vow and she wasn’t going to break it. It would take a lot of planning, a lot of organization—two things that had never been her strong suits. But she’d built those skills over time. She’d needed to, in order to prepare herself for becoming a single mother. The important thing, she knew, was to take things one step at a time. So for now, her first major headache would be getting the baby back into the day care where she’d been before Zoe had moved in.
Kayla reached for her phone and noticed she had a message waiting. She frowned slightly, wondering why she hadn’t heard the phone ring before realizing the sound had been turned off. Strange, she didn’t remember doing that. She started to listen to the message, hoping that maybe it was from Zoe, with an explanation about where the heck she’d taken off to today.
But no, it wasn’t from Zoe—it was an automated message from her bank, notifying her that her account had gone into overdraft. That couldn’t be right—in fact, it had to be downright impossible. Nausea rose in Kayla’s gut as she pulled up her online banking app on her phone and checked her balance. But there it was on the screen, plain to see. The entire balance of her account had transferred out last night. But how...?
With shaking fingers, she keyed in the phone number for the bank and went through the menu options that would finally lead her to a human voice. Kayla felt her throat choke as she told the customer service rep just how much money should be in her account. She ought to know. After all, she checked it on her phone every night. And last night... The sick dread that enveloped her thickened and made her stomach flip uncomfortably. Last night she’d been checking her balance when there’d been a knock at the door to her apartment. She’d left her phone on the coffee table when she’d gone to answer and Zoe had been alone in the living room for about five minutes. Through the roaring sound in her ears, she could just hear the customer service rep.
“You made a large withdrawal last night, Ms. Porter. It’s all there on the screen—a payment to one of your regular payees, a Ms. Zoe Thompson.”
“But I didn’t do it. She must have done it herself.”
Kayla swallowed back the tears that collected in her throat. All her money. Gone. How the heck was she going to cope?
“Did you give Ms. Thompson access to your account? Under the terms and conditions—”
“I’m well aware of the terms and conditions, and no, I didn’t give her permission to access my account.”
“Ms. Porter, even if the payment was made by mistake, please be advised that we cannot reverse that payment without the consent of the person who owns the account the funds were paid into.”
“But I didn’t authorize the payment!”
Kayla’s voice rose on a desperate note and in the bedroom she heard Sienna stir—the sound of her mother’s distress obviously having woken her.
“Ma’am, if we assist you to recover a payment made from your authorized mobile device, we will have to charge you an electronic credit recovery fee. You’ll find the fees set out in our guide.”
“Whatever, do whatever you can, whatever your fees are. I accept. I need my money back.”
It was only later, when the bank called her back to say that Zoe had closed out her accounts and the funds could not be retrieved, that Kayla felt all hope die. After filing a claim with the bank and reporting the theft to the police, Kayla finally gave in to the tears that had burned at the back of her throat for what felt like hours.
Kayla looked around her. Her only remaining belongings were her furniture, her personal things and the small amount of cash in her purse. Zoe had left her with nothing else. No backup money, no nest egg. Zip. Zero. Nada. Rage, fear, confusion and a deep sense of violation all jangled within her. When she’d brought Zoe into her apartment, adamant in her belief that giving another person a fair chance to make a good life would help put something worthwhile back into the universe, she’d thought she was making a positive difference in the other woman’s life. And she’d trusted her. So much so that she’d left Sienna with her on a day-to-day basis.
She knew Zoe had had a hard past, having to look out for herself after losing her job and being thrown out of her apartment by her boyfriend. Kayla knew Zoe didn’t trust easily, but she’d believed they’d gotten past that and thought Zoe had learned to see the good things that life had to offer. And Zoe had at that, a scathing little voice inside Kayla said. She’d seen what Kayla had to offer and she’d taken it—all of it.
Kayla brushed tears from her cheeks. It was all her fault. She trusted people. Always. Now it had bitten her well and truly in the backside. The hard reality of what this meant pressed down on her like a ton of lead.
“Think, Kayla, think. And breathe. You can’t lose it now,” she said firmly to herself, desperately trying to calm the shudders that now began to ripple through her body.
She tried to center herself—to breathe in slow and deep and find the inner calm that was usually never far from the surface of her mind—but all to no avail. The police hadn’t been optimistic about her chances of getting her money back. Despite the information she’d given them about Zoe, she was just one opportunistic thief in a great big city full of them. She could even have gone out of state by now.
What the heck was she going to do? Her mind remained a blank. It was hopeless. She was hopeless. She needed money—those precious savings had been for her babies’ future and to help her raise them, not to mention covering rent and utilities while she couldn’t work—but who would loan her what she needed? The bank clearly wouldn’t be any help, since they seemed to hold her responsible for losing the money in her account. She didn’t have any family left. Most of her friends were in the same financial situation as she had been before she’d decided to have Sienna’s kids—choosing to live in the present rather than plan for the future. So, if her friends were out, who did that leave?
One name whispered through her mind, making her nerves vibrate with tension and a swarm of butterflies skitter about in her stomach—Van Murphy. Even though he’d made his position painfully clear today, perhaps with time he’d soften his stance. Surely any man with a shred of decency left in him would want to help his children? It wasn’t as if he was strapped for cash.
But no, she remembered the coldness on his face as he’d threatened to keep her from using Sienna’s remaining embryos. He wouldn’t help her. In fact, he’d do whatever he could to stop her.
There was no way she could afford a legal battle—especially against the kind of lawyers he could afford. She’d have to scrape together whatever resources remained and go through the procedure without any kind of nest egg.
The alternative was giving up on those babies and her promise to her sister completely—and that was something she would never do.
* * *
Van ended the call with his lawyer and calmly and deliberately slid his cell phone back into his pocket. He didn’t dare move, or he might destroy something, although right now a bar brawl would come in handy to help him relieve the anger that infused every cell in his body.
She’d gone and done it.
Despite what he’d said, or maybe in spite of it, she’d carried on with the transfer of Sienna’s remaining embryos before he could arrange an injunction to stop her. Two embryos, to be precise, if his lawyer’s information was correct. Van slowly let go of the breath he’d been holding and focused on the picture on the wall of his office. Normally the vista, painted from the balcony of his home overlooking the sea on the Monterey Peninsula, calmed him. Reminded him of just how far he’d come. But nothing calmed him now.
This was his worst nightmare come to life.
For the first time in a long time, he was lost for what to do. Automatically he pulled out his car keys. He shrugged into his suit jacket and walked down the corridor and into his private elevator. Down in the parking garage, he slid onto the fine dove-gray leather seat of his late-model Audi and activated the GPS—inputting the address he’d committed to memory about two hours after Kayla had left his office just over a month ago.
He hadn’t wanted to see her again—hadn’t wanted to need to have this conversation—but with her decision to ignore his wishes, he had no other option. Anger rolled in waves beneath the surface, forcing him to utilize every last ounce of training he’d ever endured to keep it under control. One step at a time, he reminded himself. His primary objective right now was to see her, talk to her. What he wanted to say—well, he had no idea yet, nothing civil, anyway, but he knew something would come to him.
The roads were relatively quiet heading out of the city and he made the journey to Lakeshore in good time. Van’s brows pulled into a frown when he saw the red-and-blue flashing lights as he drove up to Kayla’s apartment building. He got out of his car and locked the doors.
He scanned the numbers on the rows of apartments and his frown deepened as he saw that Kayla’s was very near where two police cars jutted out from the curb, along with an ambulance. Even from where he was, Van could hear the angry yelling of a woman the cops were guiding toward one of the cruisers.
“You owe me, Kayla! You owe me! You were supposed to help.”
Van’s blood ran cold. Had this crazy woman attacked Kayla? He quickened his step and drew closer to the crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk. Two police officers tried to restrain the wild-eyed woman, who spat and bucked and twisted and fought them with every step. Where the hell was Kayla in all this? Van looked up to a second-story balcony where a curtain billowed out through a broken glass slider. Without realizing he’d made a decision, he pushed his way through the crowd and started toward the building, only to be stopped by another officer on the sidewalk.
“Sir, you can’t go up there.”
Like hell he couldn’t. “Kayla Porter, where is she?”
“And you are?” The officer gave him a hard stare.
“A friend. A family friend,” he emphasized.
“She’s over there in the ambulance, sir, with the baby.”
Ambulance? A cold rush of fear washed through him. Was she hurt? Was the baby hurt? Without another word to the officer, he strode toward the ambulance. As he neared the back of the vehicle, he spied Kayla inside, a stark white dressing on her forehead. His gut knotted until he saw the sleeping baby in her arms—not crying, not visibly injured, he noted almost immediately. He felt his taut muscles begin to ease. They were okay. A ridiculous sense of relief coursed through him, replacing the chill of alarm that had been there only seconds ago.
From the look on Kayla’s pale face, she was shaken, but aside from that dressing, it looked like she and Sienna were all right. Kayla hadn’t seen him yet. Her eyes were fixed on the woman being bundled into the back of the patrol car. Even from here he could see the way shock and strain had drawn Kayla’s blanched features into a mask of horror and disbelief. She grew visibly paler at the vitriol being flung at her by the woman as one of the officers closed the back door of the cruiser and the vehicle pulled away. A paramedic moved inside the ambulance, blocking Van’s view. As much as it frustrated him, he reminded himself it was okay for now. Kayla was getting the care she needed. The baby was fine. There was nothing else he could do right now but wait.
After another ten minutes he saw Kayla being helped down to the street. He resisted the urge to rush forward. A female officer led Kayla and Sienna back across the street and into the building. He followed them up the stairs.
The front door to what had to be Kayla’s apartment was wide open. He stepped through the threshold, his gaze instantly assessing the chaos inside—the overturned side tables, the broken lamp, the cupboard doors hanging open—their shelves denuded of whatever had been inside.
“Sir, this is a crime scene. Please go back downstairs,” the officer instructed when she caught sight of him.
“I’m a friend of Ms. Porter’s,” he repeated, then forced himself to say his next words. “And the father of the baby.”
“Is that right, Kayla? Do you want him here?”
Kayla came through a doorway and closed it quietly behind her. The second her eyes lit on him, she seemed to jolt in surprise. Shock, rapidly followed by something else—guilt, probably, he surmised, since she likely knew good and well why he was here—shot across her face.
“Yes, that’s okay,” she said. She averted her gaze and studiously avoided looking at him again.
The officer turned to Van. “Fine,” she said. “You can come in.”
He gave the woman a curt nod and moved farther inside, picking his way through the debris to where Kayla stood near an overturned sofa. Shudders racked her body even though the evening air coming through the broken window was pretty mild for May. She was clearly feeling the effects of whatever had transpired here. Looking around, he knew it couldn’t have been pleasant. Van shucked off his suit jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She flinched at his touch as his hands briefly rested on her upper arms, but she didn’t refuse the warmth his jacket offered.
He waited patiently while she gave her statement, his hands curled into impotent fists as she described the invasion of her home by a woman she’d once trusted. But his interest sharpened at the officer’s next words.
“And you say this is the woman who cleared out your bank account last month?”
“I... I can’t talk about this right now,” she said, glancing at Van, her voice jittering with nerves.
“Don’t let me stop you making a full statement,” Van responded smoothly. “Give the officer the information she needs.”
At his prompting, Kayla carried on, although he sensed she was choosing her words carefully because of him. But no amount of care could disguise the facts, and by the end of her statement he was boiling under the surface. Not only had she brought some homeless person into her apartment, she’d left Sienna with her on a regular basis. Was she completely out of her mind? Van swallowed back the fierce wave of frustration that clogged his throat. He’d just have to bide his time until they were alone so he could have this out with Kayla.
He didn’t have to wait much longer before the officer was leaving, with an admonition to Kayla to get her locks changed in the morning.
“I’ll take care of it tonight,” Van said firmly. “Thank you, officer.”
The woman looked from him to Kayla and back again. Then, with a slight nod, she closed the door behind her. Van turned to face Kayla. Silence stretched out between them like a palpable being. He couldn’t hold back a moment longer.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“Tonight? How to stay alive, mostly.”
Her attitude did nothing to assuage the burning anger that smoldered deep inside him.
“Nice try, Kayla. You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You owe me an explanation and I’m not leaving until I get it.”
Three (#ue1bdcc9f-1437-5722-81be-e99a9203aa6e)
Kayla righted an armchair and sank into it. She was shattered. If having Zoe return to her apartment, tripping out on the drugs she’d spent all of Kayla’s hard-earned savings on, hadn’t been enough, now she had to deal with Van, as well?
She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and looked at him. While she might not have been able to see the fury that emanated off him in waves, she could certainly feel it.
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow? As you can see, I have a lot on my plate right now.”
Her head ached where one of Zoe’s missiles had caught her on the forehead and Kayla gingerly touched the dressing the paramedic had put over the cut and closed her eyes. She sensed rather than saw Van move to her side.
“Are you okay? Do you need further medical attention?”
She let her hand drop into her lap and opened her eyes again. “No, I’m okay. It was a glancing blow. Nothing major. I’m just really tired right now. I’m not up for a big argument.” She dredged up the last of her courage and fired her next words straight at him. “Perhaps you could call and make an appointment.”
He looked startled for a second and then reluctantly amused. But frustration and fury soon took over again. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You know exactly why I’m here. You owe me answers and I’m not leaving until I get them.”
“They’ll have to wait until I can get this all sorted out,” she said with a weary wave of her hand at the mess that was once her sitting room and kitchen.
“Fine. We do that, then we talk.”
“Van, no. It’s late, I’m tired and I just want to go to bed.”
“Without changing the lock? With that hole in your sliding door?”
She just shook her head, unable to find words. Tonight had been terrifying. When Zoe had shown up, letting herself in with her old key and demanding more money from Kayla, she’d thought she could talk the other woman down. How wrong had she been? Zoe went crazy and grabbed Sienna from her crib, making wild threats. Kayla didn’t stop to think. Maternal instinct simply took over and she launched herself at Zoe. Both of them fell onto the bed and she tussled with her, determined to free her little girl from the madwoman’s clutches. It was the last thing Zoe had anticipated and Kayla quickly wrested her baby free. After putting Sienna back in her crib, Kayla shoved Zoe out of the bedroom and barricaded them both inside. Sienna screamed her lungs out through the whole ordeal.
Zoe went completely over the edge at that stage and all Kayla could do was listen helplessly while the other woman destroyed the rest of the apartment. She couldn’t even call the police, because her phone was in the living room. Thankfully, several of her neighbors had heard the commotion.
Another shudder racked her body. It had been only two days since the implantation procedure. She wasn’t supposed to undertake any strenuous activity and things had gotten pretty strenuous when she and Zoe had struggled together—not to mention the strain of dragging her grandmother’s old wooden dresser across the door to stop Zoe from breaking her way back into the bedroom. Already she could feel aches and pains in every part of her body. She wrapped her arms across her stomach, holding herself tight. She couldn’t lose the babies, not now.
“Kayla?”
Van said her name impatiently, forcing her to drag her thoughts together.
“I’m insured. I’ll call someone after I get a hold of the building manager to report the damage,” she said weakly.
“And how long do you think it’ll take before they can get contractors here? Leave it to me.”
Without waiting for her response, Van pulled up a number on his cell phone and started talking. She dropped her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes again, opening them only when he finished his call.
“A team will be here in about thirty minutes.”
He could do that? Just how much pull did he have these days? She didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. Van gave her a look, as if he could see exactly what she was thinking.
“You look awful,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”
“Sure, a million dollars would be nice, since you’re asking,” she answered flippantly, then cringed, realizing that probably wasn’t going to help her cause.
She hastened to head him off before he verbalized some cutting comeback. “I’m sorry. It’s just the shock talking. Maybe...” She turned toward the kitchen, staring at the empty cupboards, some doors hanging drunkenly on their hinges. “I’d have said a cup of tea would be good about now, but she’s trashed the kitchen, hasn’t she?”
“Leave it to me,” Van said again, righting Sienna’s high chair on his way through the mess. He picked up her battered electric kettle and held it aloft. “We have progress,” he said, then proceeded to rinse it out before refilling it and plugging it back in to heat. While he waited, he started to put things back in the cupboards—what hadn’t been smashed to pieces, at least.
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.
“You said you’ll talk when this is all cleaned up. I’m cleaning up.”
The not-so-subtle reminder that he still expected to talk with her tonight did not go unnoticed. While Kayla sipped her tea, Van continued to work through the kitchen, setting it to rights as much as he could. Broken crockery went in a cardboard box. Undamaged food was stacked in the small pantry. Steadily, he restored order. By the time his crew arrived, he was almost done with the kitchen.
Kayla was surprised at the men who came through her front door. One had a prosthetic leg, another severe burn scars down one side of his face and neck, along with several missing fingers. After greeting Van with a camaraderie that obviously went back years, they got to work fast—replacing the shattered pane in her sliding door and putting in new locks. While they worked, Van made and received several calls. Kayla could do nothing but watch and tell them where she wanted the remaining unbroken pieces of furniture set. She thought they were finally all done, but when she saw them begin to install a wireless security system, she started to protest.
“Van, what’s that? I don’t need some fancy security system and I certainly can’t afford it, either.”
“Humor me,” he said darkly. “Security is my business, and, correct me if I’m wrong, it is my daughter in that bedroom, and those are my children you’re carrying, aren’t they?”
If she was still carrying them. “Y-yes,” she managed to say on the swell of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.
It was the first time she’d heard him actually acknowledge the babies as his. The intimation that he’d take care of them, all of them, was loud and clear. Relief seeped through her whole body. He was going to help her. Hadn’t he just said as much?
It was after midnight when his team finished. Van saw them to the door and locked it behind them. Double locked and chained, Kayla noted. She fought back a yawn as Van walked back toward her, pocketing one set of keys and handing the other set to her.
“You’re keeping a set?” she asked, a little confused.
“Let’s call it protecting my investment,” he said cryptically.
“Investment?”
“Since you seem to be incapable of looking after yourself responsibly, obviously it’s up to me to do so.”
The warm buzz of hope that had filled her only a short while ago faded fast.
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“It’s too late for me to do anything about the embryo transfer. As much as I vehemently disagree with what you did, I can’t undo it. But I can make sure that my children are brought up safe.”
“That’s what I want, too,” Kayla agreed.
“Really? And yet you were the one who brought a stranger in off the street to live with you and Sienna. A woman whose background you hadn’t investigated, someone with no references. Honestly, Kayla—a drug addict? That’s your idea of safe?”
“She wasn’t on drugs when I invited her to stay here. And she showed me her qualifications. She is a trained child-care worker and she loved Sienna.”
No matter how much she remonstrated, Kayla knew in her heart that Van was right. She trusted people too easily and look where that had left her. Broke and broken.
“Did you know she was suspended from her last place of employment because she failed a drug test—not once but twice?”
Kayla felt sick to her stomach, and not just because she was pregnant. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Obviously.” Van pushed his fingers through his hair, messing it into a wild tousle that only made him look even more lethal, more attractive, than ever. “I want custody of the children.”
“Shared custody, of course. I think it’s important that the children get to know their father.”
Van cast her a look, his green eyes as deep and unfathomable as a forest lake. “No, Kayla, you misunderstand me. Not shared custody, full custody. It starts with Sienna and will continue with the new babies when they’re born.”
That sick feeling inside her surged. “You can’t mean that. You can’t take her away from the only parent she’s ever known. It would be cruel. Besides, she’s mine. No judge will award you full custody. You signed away your rights already.”
“No judge? Really? And when shown your unstable background, your bad choices and your deadbeat friends, do you really think a judge isn’t going to look more favorably upon me? Let’s see, shall we?” He began to enumerate a few of the escapades she’d gotten caught up in as a teenager, some of which had involved the police.
“Look, everyone makes mistakes when they’re young and foolish. Half the population of this country wouldn’t have children if what you did as a kid was the only measure of how appropriate a parent you’d be.”
“And now, Kayla? You’re what, a masseuse?”
He said the word as if she was no more than a street-corner prostitute.
“I’m a fully trained massage therapist. There is a difference, you know. I’m respected and I’m good at my job.”
“A job that takes you away from Sienna, right? A job that makes you leave her in the care of someone phenomenally unfit. And tell me, Kayla, does this job of yours pay so well that you can afford to stop work and care for three children under the age of two? Or were you planning to go to the local homeless shelter and find more day-care options there?”
“I’ll manage—with your help, of course.”
“With my help,” he repeated grimly. “You’re a piece of work, you know that? How much money do you have left in the bank?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She’d saved a few hundred dollars since Zoe had cleaned her out. Not much, but it was a start.
“I’m guessing that even if you’re saving, it’s nowhere near enough for you to even make the rent here when you have to stop working after the babies are born, is it?”
“I’ll manage. I always have before and I will again. I’ll sell Sienna’s jewelry if I have to.”
Kayla lifted a hand to finger the gold chain at her throat. Van’s eyes tracked the movement and she felt the burn of his gaze as if it was a physical touch searing her skin.
“And you think that’ll help? And what about when that’s all gone—have you thought about that? Be honest with yourself, Kayla. No court is going to declare you a fit parent—especially not in comparison to me. I’m a decorated veteran, a stable and successful businessman, I’m engaged to be married and I have a debt-free home.”
He was engaged?
For some reason that one piece of information sent a wave of desolation through her—as though she’d lost something very important without even realizing it. It was stupid, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she and Van had ever been close growing up, and that one-night stand the evening after Sienna’s funeral had been more of a release of mutual grief than attraction. But even so, she still couldn’t look at Van without remembering that night with him. That night she’d wondered if—no, hoped, she finally admitted to herself—they could move forward from that point and discover whether they could have more together.
But he’d run away, hadn’t he? Just like he’d done when he’d turned eighteen and joined the army. Just like he’d done when Sienna’s diagnosis had come through and he’d transferred to Special Forces. It seemed that when the chips were down, Van Murphy couldn’t be relied upon. So how good a father would he be?
She stood up and squared her shoulders, ignoring the dull throb emanating from her forehead, and looked him in the eye.
“You might think that all it takes is money to be a parent, Van Murphy, but prepare yourself for a monumental fight. A man like you could never be a decent father and my children—yes, mine—deserve better than a man who cuts and runs whenever the going gets tough. They deserve love and I’m betting that’s something you’re never going to be capable of giving to anyone.”
* * *
Van listened to her words, felt each one like a hot round of lead attempting to pierce the shield he’d wrapped around his emotions a long time ago. She was probably right. The children certainly did deserve more love and affection than he knew how to offer, but the alternative was emphatically not her lackadaisical approach to life, either.
He forced himself to smile. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Kayla? Still the dreamer, still thinking everything will all work out in the end if you just believe in it enough. But life, real life, is not like that.”
“Isn’t it? Tell me, then, the men you had working for you here tonight. You served with them?”
Where the hell was she going with this? He crossed his arms and nodded.
“And when they came home, they were broken, weren’t they. Physically and probably mentally, too.”
He grimaced. Those had been bad days.
“And you gave them something, didn’t you? You gave them a purpose, gave them back their pride. Because you believed in them, you made them see that they still had skills and worth and something to offer. And they’re happy now, aren’t they? So don’t tell me that things don’t work out in the end.”
He didn’t like the way she made him feel or the way she made him think. He turned and went to the door.
“Yes, that’s right, Van. You run away, and you keep on running!” she said forcefully at his retreating back.
From the bedroom, he heard Sienna’s cry. “My daughter needs you,” he said coldly. “Best you attend to her.”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m what’s best for her and don’t you forget it.”
He wasn’t likely to forget the fierce look on Kayla’s pale face, nor the impassioned glare in her eyes. Her expression haunted him as he pounded down the stairs and along the sidewalk toward his car. She was right about his running, he thought as he drove back to the city. But what she didn’t understand was that running meant survival. It meant staying safe both physically and emotionally. And if that was what he had to do, then that was what would happen.
He glanced at the time on the dashboard display. Almost 1:00 a.m. It wouldn’t be worth the hour-and-a-half drive south to head to his home. Even if he filed a night flight and took the chopper, he’d no sooner be asleep before he’d need to be up and flying back to San Francisco. He might as well stay in his apartment.
After putting his car in the parking garage in the basement of the building, he took his private elevator up to the apartment. The moment the doors swished open, a tingle of awareness warned him that he wasn’t alone.
A single light shone in the sitting room, bathing the woman who curled up in a corner of his sofa in a golden glow. Dani. He wondered how long she’d been waiting here. She must have sensed his arrival because she stretched like a cat and opened her eyes.
“Everything okay?” she asked, getting gracefully to her feet and walking toward him. “I called Imelda to see if you’d gone back to the house tonight but she said you weren’t home, so I assumed you’d show up here eventually. Are you happy to see me?”
She lifted her face to his and kissed him. He met her kiss perfunctorily.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.
She frowned, her mouth a moue of disappointment at his lukewarm reception. “I know, but we’re here now, right? We can still make the most of what’s left of the night.”
Dani lifted her left hand and tucked her hair behind one ear. The movement caused her diamond to flash, reminding him of the decision he’d reached in the car on the way over here. She started to smile invitingly, but when she realized he still wasn’t responding in kind, her expression grew serious.
“What is it, Donovan? Is everything okay?”
He sighed. No, everything most certainly was not.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“That doesn’t sound promising. Can it wait? Maybe things will look better in the morning and...” she arched one brow and gave him a look full of sensual promise “...perhaps I can distract you in the meantime.”
Any other day, any other week, he’d have taken her up on the offer. Not after tonight, though, and not after the decision he’d made.
“I’m sorry, Dani—” he started.
“It’s her, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“The woman with the baby last month. Is it yours?”
Van wiped his face with one hand. This was going to be harder than he thought.
Dani continued. “Of course it is. She’s a beautiful child and looks a lot like you. But it doesn’t have to be a problem. Everyone can be bought for the right price, Van. Even past lovers. Pay her mother to leave you alone. If you take care of that little problem, we can carry on as we’d always intended.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” Van said.
He explained, in the barest terms possible, about his arrangement with Sienna and about Kayla’s decision to have her sister’s children—his children.
“I don’t see the issue. There’s no need for you to be involved in their lives. She came to you for money—give it to her. Make the problem go away, Donovan.”
There was a steely tone to her voice that showed a side of her he’d always known lingered beneath her smooth surface. Dani Matthews did not like to be thwarted. Normally, neither did he. But something had changed in the course of tonight. Instincts he hadn’t known he possessed had pushed up through his barriers. Protective instincts, fatherly instincts.
His mother and father had abandoned him in the pursuit of their next alcoholic buzz. His adoptive parents had been of the “spare the rod and spoil the child” variety, never showing love, never admitting pride in any of his achievements and never, ever, giving encouragement. He wouldn’t be like any of them. He had a chance to make things right for his children. To give them the stability and the opportunities his upbringing had never given him.
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry, Dani, but our engagement is off. I’m going to be a father.”
Four (#ue1bdcc9f-1437-5722-81be-e99a9203aa6e)
Kayla lay on the bed staring hard at the screen, willing the sonographer to find that second heartbeat.
“Please,” she implored. “Look again.”
“Kayla, one out of two is still a good thing. A lot of women don’t even progress this far,” the woman said encouragingly.
Even though she knew the odds, Kayla couldn’t help but feel a sense of devastation that one of her babies hadn’t made it.
“You’re right, of course,” she made herself say in response. “I’m very lucky.”
And she kept telling herself that all the way back to work, but the instant she walked into the rooms she shared in a holistic wellness clinic, she felt her hard-fought-for composure begin to crumble. Susan, her boss and fellow therapist at the clinic, took one look at her face and raced forward to envelop Kayla in her arms.
“Oh, hon. Is the news that bad?” she said, sympathetically rubbing Kayla’s back.
“I’ve lost one, Susan. The scan showed only one heartbeat.”
“That’s still good news, though, isn’t it? You have one baby?” Susan loosened her embrace and held Kayla at arm’s length. “Look at you. I thought all hope was gone.”
Kayla gave her a watery smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just... It’s just...”
She couldn’t find the words to describe the aching sense of loss—and guilt—that had settled deep inside her. Every time she argued with herself that there was nothing she could have done differently to ensure the success of both the embryos, she was reminded of that night with Zoe. Of how physical it had gotten. Of how all of that was her fault. She’d brought Zoe into her home, into her and Sienna’s world. She’d left her phone on the coffee table, open to her internet banking. She’d done nothing about changing her locks after Zoe had left.
No matter which way she looked at it, it was all her fault. She felt like she’d failed—both the lost embryo and her sister. The day had started bad enough when, before she left for the scan this morning, the papers had arrived from Van’s lawyers; he was suing for custody of Sienna. It felt like an assault on her right to be Sienna’s mother and the mother of the babies—no, baby, she corrected herself—she carried and she had nothing to fight it with. Tears filled her eyes and began to roll helplessly down her cheeks.
“There, there, hon. Don’t take on so. Must be all those hormones heading into overdrive in your body, hmm? Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You only have three bookings. I’ll cover for you, okay?”
Kayla reluctantly accepted Susan’s offer. She couldn’t really afford to take extra time off, not when she was so financially strapped, but right now the idea of working and investing what was left of her energy into other people was just too much for her. Sienna was in day care until five o’clock, so she decided to let her stay there and headed to her apartment. She hadn’t been sleeping all that well. Maybe she could just take a nap and be in a better headspace to figure out her next move.
She’d been dozing on her sofa for a couple of hours when she heard a knock at the door. Still fuzzy, she got to her feet and rubbed her face, surprised to find her fingers came away wet. She’d been crying even in her sleep. The reality of it all hit her again. There was another knock at the door.
“Kayla? I know you’re in there.”
Van. Of course it had to be him. The man had the worst timing in the world. She dragged herself to the door.
“I’m not really up for visitors right now. Can you come another time?” she said at the solid block of wood with its shiny new locks.
“This isn’t a social call. Open up.”
“Look, if you’re wondering if your papers got here today, they did. Okay? You can go now.”
“I’m here because I’m worried about you,” he interrupted. “Now open the door.”
Kayla’s shoulders drooped as emotion swelled through her again. He was worried about her? Worried about his progeny, more like. She had no doubt that she was nothing but a peripheral thought to him. She slipped the chain off, twisted the two locks open and swung the door wide.
“Come in,” she said listlessly.
She hadn’t been kidding when she said she wasn’t up to visitors, but most especially, she wasn’t up to him. She turned her back on him to head back to the couch, but not before she caught a whiff of his cologne. Funny how it didn’t make her stomach twist and revolt like so many other scents already did. The fragrance summed him up perfectly with its masculine woody blend and sharper citrus top note, and it reminded her anew of the difference between this man and the boy she’d known growing up—not to mention the man she’d sought oblivion with after Sienna’s funeral.
Van came in, locked the door behind him and came to stand by the sofa, where she’d reassumed her position lying down under a soft blanket. His eyes raked her, almost as if he was trying to see inside her.
“I went to see you at work,” he started.
Kayla felt her spirits dip even lower. Susan was a lovely woman but confidentiality was a foreign concept to her. She’d have told Van everything. His next words confirmed it.
“Your boss told me one of the embryos didn’t take.” He paused a moment, took in a deep breath. “Will you be all right? Is there anything I can do?”
“No, there’s nothing anyone can do. It happens. I was half expecting it but I still... I still hoped, you know?”
Van moved around the room. Kayla surreptitiously watched him from her supine position on the sofa. He carried himself straight and tall, using every inch of his six-foot-two frame to fill the space he occupied. And all around him, like some cape imbued with superpowers, he wore an air of suppressed energy. As if he was coiled, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. As if nothing and no one would ambush or surprise him. He’d always been like that, even as a kid—except, when it was just her and Sienna, he’d sometimes let his guard down. She guessed it was only natural that the army had enhanced this hyperawareness in him. But he wasn’t in a war zone now—unless you counted the legal attack he’d launched on her this morning.
The reminder made her swing her legs to the floor and sit up straight.
“What do you want, Van? To see I’m okay? You’ve seen me. You can leave now.”
“Tell me about the scan,” he demanded, settling into the chair opposite and leaning toward her, his elbows resting on the tops of his thighs and his hands loosely clasped. “What’s it like? What did you see?”
She briefly outlined the procedure and told him about the indistinct image on the screen.
“You really can’t see a lot. It’s still early days,” she finished.
“But the sonographer heard a heartbeat?”
“I did, too.”
He leaned back against the chair and thrust his hands through his hair. “Wow.”
“Like I said, it’s still early days.”
Yes, there had been a heartbeat, but that could still change. There was a long time before the fetus would be considered viable. Right now it didn’t even look like a baby—the scan had just been a collection of light and dark shapes to her—but the audio had confirmed the baby was there. She needed to hold on to that, take joy in that confirmation. It wasn’t like her to be downcast, and she hated it, but she was mourning the missing heartbeat—and with it, mourning her sister all over again.
* * *
Van was unaccustomed, these days, at least, to feeling helpless. He was the kind of man who took action. He served, he protected, he saved. That he had virtually no control over any of this situation with Kayla was enough to drive a man to drink—except he didn’t drink anymore. Ever. Not since he’d learned the truth about his parents. Actually, no, his decision had come earlier than that. It started in the cold gray dawn after that night with Kayla, after her sister’s funeral. A night when they’d had too much to drink and then— He shut down the thought before it could form fully in his mind. No, he did dumb things when he’d been drinking—made dumb choices. No more.
Of course, it looked like the dumbest decision he’d ever made was agreeing to be Sienna’s donor. But then, he’d never expected things to turn out like this. Now he had a kid and another on the way.
It was his worst nightmare come true but he had to take control to make sure their childhoods wouldn’t be the disaster zone his had been. They needed a strong role model, someone who could guide them into being good human beings who made the right choices in life. He had to be that person no matter how many times he’d told himself he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, raise kids of his own.
He had an ethical obligation to see that his children had the best of everything—morally and materially. That meant being the best damn father he could be. His kids would have a solid, safe, reliable upbringing. And no matter what impractical ideas Kayla had about parenting, he’d made himself a promise—he’d be the one making the hard decisions in their lives. He’d be the one keeping them safe, now and in the future. If that meant making sure their birth mother was cared for 24/7 until the new baby was born, then that was what he’d do.
Kayla needed his help right now, and she was going to get it—even though he knew she’d fight him on this. But what she probably hadn’t counted on was that in the last several years he’d become quite used to succeeding—in everything. He wasn’t about to stop now and he wasn’t above using some heavy emotional leverage to achieve his objective, either.
He picked his next words very carefully. “You know, you don’t need to make things so hard on yourself.”
She made a noise that fell somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Really? That’s rather ironic, when you’re the one making things hard on me.”
Kayla leaned forward and gave the legal envelope sitting in front of her on the coffee table a dismissive shove toward him with her fingertips. He ignored it and the quick surge of frustration that threatened to cloud his thinking.
“I mean, you don’t need to do this all on your own,” he rephrased.
“Oh, you think I should just give in to your demands? Hand Sienna over to you without another thought? Forget I carried her in my body, birthed her, nurtured her and raised her on my own these past ten months? Forget that she’s my sister’s baby and that I promised to raise her?”
Her voice wobbled, betraying her vulnerability. Out of nowhere came the urge to wrap her in his arms, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. It was most inconvenient. He didn’t want to feel that way toward her. He didn’t want to feel that way toward anybody. He’d drilled that sap out of himself, taught himself not to feel anything more than he wanted to feel when he wanted to feel it. He compartmentalized and planned; he didn’t wing it. He made decisions based on analysis and structure, not emotion. He did not offer hugs to tearful females, even if they were carrying his kids.
Again, the unwelcome impulse to comfort her fought to rise to the surface. Again, he shoved it straight back down. It was time to bring in the big guns—he might not want to feel emotion but he wasn’t above manipulating it to get what he wanted.
“Sienna wouldn’t have wanted you to do this on your own, Kayla. You know that. You said yourself that she would have wanted me to be a part of this, to help you, to support you.”
“To support me, yes. Not to rip everything I hold dear away from me.”
Her face grew taut, her throat worked—swallowing almost convulsively—and he saw the stricken echo of sorrow reflect from her blue eyes. He averted his gaze. Damn, he couldn’t have felt any worse right now if he’d just kicked a puppy. What was it with these feelings? Was she leaking hormones in the air or something? He had to move, to get out of the line of fire. He shoved up and out of his chair and started to pace, talking all the time—enumerating all the reasons it would be a good idea for her to accept his offer of household help, financial security, comfortable living. You name it, he’d provide it. Help to infinity and beyond. After all, hadn’t that been her objective all along when she’d come to see him last month? Wasn’t he giving her, albeit belatedly, exactly what she’d asked for?
When he finally wound down, her expression was more normal again. Granted, she was still pale and her eyes still red rimmed, but there was a light of battle in them again. A light that reminded him of old Kayla. The one who got a harebrained idea in that head of hers and went off, damning the consequences without a second thought—just like she had with this pregnancy.
“So you’re saying I should give up the lease on this apartment, give up a job I love, move south to your no doubt obscenely luxurious home on the hills outside Monterey, hand over Sienna to some faceless nanny and spend my time growing your next child like some uninvolved incubator until it’s born, whereupon you plan to take it and my daughter and show me the door? I don’t think so.”

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