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Fortune's Special Delivery
Michelle Major
CONGRATULATIONS, IT'S A BOY!Everyone knows Charles Fortune Chesterfield. The flirty son of Sir Simon and Lady Josephine Fortune Chesterfield is famous for his wit, his charm…and his libido. He's left a trail of lovely ladies in his wake, but Alice Meyers stood out from the rest. The beautiful blonde Texan was shy, sweet and a virgin. Now, apparently, she is a mother. And guess who's a dad?When Charles announces he is extending his stay in Austin to get to know his son, Flynn, better, Alice doesn't know whether to be happy or terrified. Will she once again fall prey to "the royal treatment"? Or could she and Flynn actually find a home in the handsome Brit's heart?



MEET THE FORTUNES
Fortune of the Month: Charles Fortune Chesterfield
Age: 29
Vital statistics: Dark, sexy hair women love to tousle, seductive blue eyes. Six feet plus of honest-to-goodness princely charisma.
Claim to fame: “Bonnie Lord Charlie” is an international hottie whose TV adverts for British tourism promise visitors to England “the royal treatment.”
Romantic prospects: Are you kidding?
“Social media would have me as some kind of lothario. This is not strictly true. I do enjoy feminine attention. I can’t help it if women find me irresistible. I do not fear commitment; I simply choose to avoid it.
But now there’s Alice. And Flynn. My son! From the moment I found out he was mine, everything changed. I’ve promised to do everything in my power to be a good father to my boy, and that means keeping my hands off Flynn’s mum. Strictly friends, she says. It’s what she wants. It’s the right thing to do. And I’m bloody certain it’s going to kill me.”
* * *
The Fortune’s of Texas:All Fortune’s Children Money. Family. Cowboys. Meet the Austin Fortunes!
Fortune’s Special
Delivery
Michelle Major


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com (http://www.michellemajor.com).
To all the Fortunes readers. I’m thrilled to be celebrating the 20th anniversary with you!
Contents
Cover (#u423141e6-3b8d-52e4-819c-8e2eadd3dcc2)
Introduction (#u5a84493c-9ba7-5431-a837-5ed11d5c6eff)
Title Page (#u1e2f10c7-5308-59bf-9f5a-a058f91994eb)
About the Author (#ua4b0ed23-c5d8-50b3-af10-a1b551370c85)
Dedication (#u6bd93891-7640-5739-9ade-59a32bdf3784)
Chapter One (#uebc6c8eb-1de0-5e5e-aab3-6dd7a861cb78)
Chapter Two (#ued500b77-cfde-505c-9c82-38da8be46896)
Chapter Three (#u7e9f0a98-34a0-5231-be43-2ed317e2322c)
Chapter Four (#u815c224f-b70b-5fe2-b72f-930a3851c4e9)
Chapter Five (#ua9c4bc0c-5ef8-5849-9d00-4df2366ca710)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_796e66eb-de5b-57ec-882e-14d8ba7bf776)
“A toast to your marriage.”
Charles Fortune Chesterfield lifted his glass of deep red cabernet, unable to hide the smile that curved one corner of his mouth. “Or should I call it your unmarriage? Your remarriage?” He winked at his sister Lucie, sitting across the table from him in the trendy Austin restaurant. It was early April and the weather in Central Texas was quite fine, a welcome change from the dreary rain of a London spring. He would rather have been sitting at a table on the restaurant’s spacious patio, enjoying the fresh air and the sound of the city passing by them. Unfortunately, the paparazzi hounded his family wherever they went, so Charles and Lucie were huddled in a quiet booth in the back of the restaurant.
“Don’t be cheeky, Charles,” Lucie answered in a clipped tone, her hazel eyes flashing. “If you came all the way to Texas to tease me, you should have stayed in London.”
“I’m happy for you, Luce.” Charles set down his wineglass and grabbed his younger sister’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Truly I am. That’s why Austin was my first stop on this trip.”
“And...” she prompted, her smile returning.
“You and Chase make a lovely couple,” he offered. “It’s obvious how much he loves you.” Charles hoped his sister realized he was sincere. He hadn’t seen her as happy as she was now, reunited with her first love and husband, Texas oilman Chase Parker. Few had known about Lucie’s impulsive wedding when she was only seventeen until the fact that she and Chase were still married came to light last month. Charles had hated watching his younger sister hounded by the press, but true love had triumphed in the end.
He’d flown in yesterday from London and gone straight to dinner with Chase and Lucie at the sprawling Parker ranch outside town. Even jet-lagged, he’d been able to see how much they loved each other. His family had wasted no time in filling him in on the news from Horseback Hollow, the small Texas town the rest of his siblings called home. Lucie had also informed him that family matriarch and cosmetics mogul Kate Fortune was still in Austin and apparently meeting with their generation of Fortune children to look for someone to take over the empire built on her Fortune Youth Serum.
“Chase is perfect,” Lucie agreed now, “although I wouldn’t recommend calling him ‘lovely’ to his face. A native Texan won’t appreciate that description, Charles. But I’m talking about you.” She punched a few keys on her cell phone and lifted it for a better view. She’d gone to one of the online tabloid sites so popular in Britain.
The headline displayed on the small screen read Is the Third Time a Charm for Bonnie Lord Charlie? An obvious reference to Charles’s two previous broken engagements. Below the headline was a grainy photo of Charles and a beautiful, thin and very regal-looking brunette.
“Lady Caterina Hayworth?” Lucie asked, her brow puckered. “Tell me you’re not engaged to Conniving Cat. I know you like your women brainless and beautiful, but she’s a social climber of the worst sort. You must know she wants your celebrity status as much as she wants you.”
“I hate that nickname,” he muttered, running his finger along the smooth screen as if he could blot out the maddening words.
“Conniving Cat?” Lucie waved a hand in the air. “Perhaps it isn’t kind, but you must admit—”
“Not that one,” he clarified. “Hell, Caterina loves the moniker. I think she was the one to start it. I mean ‘Bonnie Lord Charlie.’” He scrubbed a hand over his face, the transatlantic time change suddenly catching up with him tenfold. “Jensen is the one with the title.” Their mother, Josephine May Fortune Chesterfield, had married Sir Simon Chesterfield after ending her first, loveless marriage to Rhys Henry Hayes. “The press doesn’t feel the need to give Brodie or Oliver a fake title,” Charles said, referring to their two older half brothers from Josephine’s first marriage. “And calling me ‘bonnie’ is ridiculous. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old man, not a wee lad toddling around in rompers.”
“You are quite handsome.” Lucie’s smile turned sympathetic. “I’m sure it’s meant as a compliment.”
“It’s an implied dig that I don’t do anything, that I have nothing to offer but my face and my family’s good name. No use denying it.”
Her slim shoulders stiffened. “You do plenty, Charles. I think your ads single-handedly doubled the number of women vacationing in Britain over the past year.”
He fought back a grimace, even though he had no one but himself to blame. The ad campaign that featured him promising visitors to England “the royal treatment” had started as a joke during a meeting he’d attended with the British Tourism Council two years ago. He’d been expected to bring ideas to the table, but had spent the night before the meeting clubbing with friends and had shown up to the meeting a half hour late with a raging headache. He’d pitched the Royal Treatment campaign as a jest, but the council had loved it. Before he knew what was happening, Charles ended up the star of a series of print and television ads, wearing a tux in front of various British monuments, giving it his best James Bond–meets–Mr. Darcy impression.
He was happy to do his part for queen and country, but lately wished his contribution could be of a more meaningful sort. Lucie, like their mother, devoted herself to various charitable organizations. Their brother Jensen was a successful financier. Everyone in his family had something of substance to offer.
Except Charles.
That, too, was his fault. For years he’d cultivated his image as a good-time guy. He’d been the charmer in his family as a kid, perpetually entertaining his parents and siblings, always good for a laugh. After Sir Simon died, it had seemed the right thing to do to make his mother smile as often as he could. So that’s what people had come to expect from him—a good time. Only his father had ever seemed to want him to be something more.
“That is part of why I’m here. I have meetings set up with the Texas Tourism Board next week. We’d like to do some cross-promotions—Texans and high tea. That sort of thing.” He leaned forward. “Did you know almost three million Americans are projected to visit England this year?”
“And most of them want ‘the royal treatment’?” Lucie asked with a laugh.
Charles forced a smile. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. “I suppose. You’re right about me needing an escape. There’s work and family, but I also needed to get away from the press. Cat and I were nowhere near to being engaged. We weren’t even a proper couple.”
Lucie taped a finger on the cell phone screen. “Did she know that?”
“Chalk it up to selective hearing on her part,” Charles said. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely lady.” He sighed. “They’re all lovely ladies.”
“But what about the right woman, Charles?” Lucie took a sip of her wine and waved away the waiter who approached their table. “Now that Chase and I are together, you’re officially the last man standing in the family. Brodie, Oliver, Jensen and Amelia are happy in Horseback Hollow. Even Mum seems to have found love again.”
“Jensen mentioned a burgeoning romance with Orlando Mendoza.” Charles was happy for his mother, although it was difficult to imagine her with anyone but his father.
“She’s glowing,” Lucie said with a wistful sigh.
“Then the two of you have that in common, dear sister.” Charles twirled the stem of the wineglass between two fingers. “Marriage...remarriage...whatever you want to call it agrees with you. But I don’t believe there’s only one woman in the world for me.”
“Because you haven’t met her yet,” Lucie argued.
“I’ve met plenty of women.”
“And bedded most of them.”
Charles took a long drink of wine. “I’m absolutely not having this conversation with my sister.”
“If you’d only—”
At that moment, Charles’s cell phone rang. He drew the device out of his coat pocket as Lucie frowned.
“Send the call to voice mail,” she told him with her best sisterly glare. “I’m not finished lecturing you.”
He grinned, then glanced at the display. “Sorry, sis, it’s an Austin number. Might be important royal business.” But when he accepted the call and said hello, whoever was on the other end of the line was silent. “Anyone there?” he asked into the phone.
He was about to hang up when he heard a funny squeak that might have been “hello.”
A throat cleared. “Is this Charles?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Who wants to know?” he responded, then met Lucie’s curious gaze and shrugged his shoulders.
“Hang up,” his sister whispered.
Charles understood her reaction. The caller was likely a reporter trying to track him down, or one of the frequent fame hounds who’d come after his family through the years, especially since their connection to the prominent Fortunes was revealed. Charles, like all the Fortune Chesterfields, had learned to guard his privacy—one more reason the tabloid photo with Lady Caterina irked him.
But something about the way the woman on the other end of the phone spoke his name intrigued him. Her voice was soft, with a sweet Texas drawl and more than a hint of nerves. Charles might be a magnet for women, but the timid girls typically gave him a wide berth.
“This is Alice,” the woman told him.
“Alice,” he repeated, liking the way the two syllables sounded on his tongue. But he had no recognition of an Alice from his past.
“Alice Meyers,” she continued, a little breathlessly. “I’m sorry to call you out of the blue. I got your number from the tourism board office.”
Right. Suddenly an image—a beautiful blonde, with long legs and a shy but sexy smile—popped into his mind.
Alice cleared her throat again. “We met last year—”
“At the tourism conference here in Austin,” he continued. “I remember you.” Charles tried to hide his small smile from Lucie. What he remembered most about Alice was spending a blissful night with her in his hotel room after the conference ended. He’d even asked for her number, something he rarely did after a casual dalliance. But he’d liked Alice Meyers, and he’d thought she liked him. Too bad when he’d come out of the shower the next morning she’d disappeared from his hotel room and his life.
Now, more than a year later, she was ringing him. Charles felt his smile widen. Intriguing, indeed.
* * *
Alice breathed a sigh of relief that Charles remembered her. Of course, she’d known who he was before they’d met at the bar in the conference hotel last spring. Every woman between the ages of ten and ninety knew Bonnie Lord Charlie. But she hadn’t expected him to commit her to memory. Men rarely did.
She’d followed his romantic exploits in the tabloids since their encounter, and it was a wonder Charles could remember what girl he was with on any given night. The man seemed to be the British equivalent of the Energizer Bunny when it came to women.
“Alice, are you still there?” His crisp accent broke through her musings.
“I need to see you,” she blurted, then bit down hard on her lip as silence greeted her outburst. He was bound to think she was a stalker for calling him out of blue and making such a bold request.
“That’s a lovely offer,” he said finally, sounding every bit the aristocrat he was. How was it possible for him to sound more British than before? “But I’m fairly booked on this visit.”
“It’s important,” she whispered, swallowing back the emotion clogging her throat. “I promise I won’t take much of your time.”
“Can you give me a hint what this mysterious meeting might entail?”
“It’s personal and...” She paused, then added, “Please, Charles.”
There was another long moment of silence. Alice checked her phone to make sure Charles hadn’t hung up on her. She wouldn’t exactly blame him. He was handsome, rich, and famous around the world. She was nobody, yet was demanding precious time from him. But even if he said no now, Alice couldn’t give up. Seeing Charles again was too important.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said suddenly.
“Gr-great,” she stammered, shocked that he’d agreed. The fingers holding the phone trembled with both nerves and exhilaration. “We could meet in Zilker Park. Are you familiar with it?”
“I am.”
“There’s a bench under a big oak tree near the entrance of the Zilker Botanical Garden. How about ten o’clock?”
“Very good. I’ll see you in the morning, Alice.”
The way he spoke her name made sparks zing low in her belly. His accent made every word sound like a caress. She shook her head, needing to keep her wits about her. As good a time as she’d had with Charles, she hadn’t contacted him for her sake. “Goodbye, Charles. Thank you.”
As the call ended, she pulled the phone away from her head, her hand trembling as she stared at it. “I did it,” she whispered, glancing at the baby sleeping in the swing in the corner of the room. Her son, Flynn, was a champion napper at four months, which was one of the few things that had made being a single mom a tiny bit easier for Alice.
“Come here and tell me everything.” She turned to see her best friend, Meredith Doan, gesturing wildly from the galley kitchen in Alice’s two-bedroom apartment. Meredith was the only person who knew about Charles, and Alice had confided in her friend only recently, needing an ally to bolster her confidence.
“It went well,” Alice said quietly as she stepped into the small space. “We’re meeting tomorrow morning.”
“You look like you need this,” Meredith said, handing Alice a glass of white wine. “Your face is beet red. Charles remembered you?”
“Yes, after a moment.” Alice took a deep breath, her first since dialing Charles’s number.
“Tell me again how you ended up having an affair with Bonnie Lord Charlie.”
“It wasn’t exactly an affair,” Alice answered, taking a fortifying sip of wine. “It was one night. We met at the annual Texas tourism conference last spring. There was an international focus, so the board invited representatives from several European countries to attend. Charles has ties in Texas now through the Fortunes, so he came from Britain.”
Meredith wiggled her eyebrows. “And you snagged yourself a royal? Nice work, Meyers. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I didn’t,” Alice said quickly. “I don’t. It wasn’t like that, Meredith. It was special.”
“They all are, sweetie.”
Alice knew she would have a difficult time convincing her friend. She’d met Meredith her first day working at the Texas Tourism Board, and they’d struck up an unlikely friendship. Meredith worked in the marketing department and was as outgoing off the clock as she was on the job. Since Alice had known her, Meredith had dated a number of guys and even had a few random hookups. Alice, on the other hand, had no one.
Until Charles.
When they’d met at an industry reception the last night of the conference, Alice had expected him to look right past her. Almost everyone did, so she was used to it. There’d been a flurry of Texas women vying for his attention, flirting like they did it for a living. Alice had barely been able to make eye contact when she and Charles had been introduced. He was so handsome, several inches taller than her own five foot nine. His dark hair was expensively cut but perpetually tousled from his habit of running his fingers through it. His brilliant blue eyes seemed to see right into her soul.
It had been a silly thought, and she’d spent the rest of the party watching him laugh and joke with the crowd that constantly surrounded him. He was like a fun magnet and almost exactly her opposite in every way. As the dancing started midway through the evening, with conference attendees from all different countries and backgrounds letting loose in the hotel bar, Alice had been ready to leave. Before she could, Charles had slipped into the booth next to her. He’d told her he’d been watching her all night, waiting for a moment alone with her.
It had been difficult to believe, but he’d stayed at her side the rest of the evening. They’d talked about everything and nothing, and to her surprise, Charles had seemed as happy to escape the noise and bustle of the crowd as Alice. So when he’d invited her up to his room...
“What happened to the condom?” Meredith said, pointing a finger at her. “Your first time out of the gate and you don’t use protection? I thought I’d taught you better.”
“We did use protection,” Alice protested weakly. “I got pregnant anyway. They aren’t one hundred percent effective. And I guess saving the condom for a couple years wasn’t such a great idea, after all.”
After one too many cosmos at a happy hour shortly after she’d met Meredith, Alice had lamented her perennial virginity to her new friend. Alice hadn’t set out to still be a virgin at age twenty-five, but she’d been shy and awkward through her teen years and focused on her classes during college. She’d expected to meet Mr. Right at some point, but when he never materialized, decided she might have to settle for Mr. Right Now. She’d hoped gregarious Meredith could help her, and the first thing her new friend had done was give Alice a condom to keep in her wallet.
It had stayed there for two years, until the night with Charles. Of course, he’d had protection, but she’d insisted on using hers. It meant something to her, a rite of passage of sorts. Even though it had been only one night—well, twice in one night—when she’d left his hotel the next morning, her purse had felt ten pounds lighter on her shoulder.
Only six weeks later, when she couldn’t keep down her breakfast each morning, did she realize how foolish she’d truly been.
“You know this means Flynn is a Fortune,” Meredith said in an awestruck tone.
Alice set her wineglass on the quartz counter, her fingers suddenly unsteady again. “He’s my baby, Mer. Mine.” Flynn was everything to her.
“But you’re going to tell Charles.”
“He deserves to know.” She crossed her arms over her chest, the implications of what she’d put into motion settling like a west Texas dust storm on her shoulders. “I doubt he’ll even want to be involved. Everyone knows his reputation. I’m sure tomorrow will be the last time Flynn and I will ever see Charles.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_7055e961-82ec-5016-a5b2-6cbd2e02f35b)
The next morning was bright and warm, the exact weather Charles was coming to expect from Austin in April. He’d booked a room at the Four Seasons Hotel for the duration of his visit, even though Lucie had invited him to stay at the Parker ranch outside town. But Charles liked the vibe of downtown Austin, and despite his social nature, he also appreciated time alone. Later, the day would turn hot and humid, but it was pleasant enough now that he’d chosen to walk the few miles from his hotel, situated on Lady Bird Lake, the reservoir in downtown Austin, over to Zilker Park.
The walkway was busy, and he enjoyed watching men and women running, mothers with small children and strollers, and the trees and flowers that lined the path. Even more, he enjoyed the anonymity. A few people did a double take when he passed, but no one stopped him. In London, he could barely get from his flat to the corner coffee shop without a camera flashing. This was a welcome change.
By the time he spotted the striking blonde sitting on the park bench outside the Zilker Botanical Garden entrance, Charles felt more relaxed than he had in ages.
Alice Meyers.
Yes, he remembered her. She was typing something into her phone, so he had a minute to study her. She was as lovely as she’d been a year ago and perhaps a bit curvier. The change suited her. Her pale hair was pulled back into a loose bun, a few strands escaping to brush across her cheek. Her skin was smooth and pale in contrast to her lush mouth. He’d kissed those lips all night long, never tiring of the taste of her.
Charles ran a hand through his hair, surprised at the sudden rush of memories. He didn’t know why Alice had contacted him after so long, and there were plenty of women who meant more to him than she did. He approached slowly, waiting for her to glance up. She wore a silk blouse in a soft pink hue, tailored jeans and the most delectable pair of intricately strappy sandals he’d ever seen. The heels she’d worn the night they met had been just as unique, and he was irrationally glad that amazing shoes seemed to be a staple for her.
He was almost in front of her when she finally looked away from her phone. Her big hazel eyes widened and color tinged her cheeks.
“Charles,” she breathed, quickly standing and thrusting a hand toward him.
He had every intention of shaking her hand, but at the last minute grasped her fingers and lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles.
He forced himself to release her hand, and took a step back.
“Good morning, Alice.”
“Hello,” she said. “Thank you for meeting me.” The pulse in her delicate neck fluttered wildly, and she swallowed. For some reason, her agitation made him relax. Certainly someone so nervous wouldn’t be preparing to blackmail him.
“I’m glad you called,” he said, making his tone reassuring. Whatever her reason for wanting to see him, Alice clearly needed some encouragement right now. Charles didn’t consider himself the nurturing type but this woman seemed to bring something new to the surface in him.
“You are?” She sounded dubious, and it was hard to tell whom she doubted more—herself or him.
“I am.” He flashed his most charming smile. “I enjoyed our time together last year, brief as the encounter turned out to be. If you—”
A sharp cry interrupted him. Alice turned to the buggy next to the park bench. He’d been so intent on her as he approached, he hadn’t noticed it before. The stroller was one of those fancy American types, not the traditional pram many mums in Britain favored. This one was dark gray with navy blue trim and seemed as sturdy as a tank with an infant seat snapped into the top. Alice pushed back the cover to reveal a small baby peering out at them.
“This is my son,” she said quickly. “His binky fell out.” She reached under the baby and pulled out a piece of green rubber, popping it deftly in the boy’s mouth just as he opened it to cry again. He began sucking and within seconds took a deep breath and seemed to settle back to watch the morning go by from his baby stroller throne.
“A real little prince you have there,” Charles said, taking a step closer to the stroller.
Alice blinked at him as if he’d just said her son was next in line to the British throne.
“Figure of speech,” he clarified. “How old is the lad?”
“Four months,” she whispered. “He’s...he’s everything to me.”
“I can see why.” Charles hadn’t spent much time around babies until his siblings had started with their own progeny. He’d discovered he liked wee ones, assuming he could give them back to their parents when a nappy needed changing. He leaned over the stroller and the baby looked up at him, with blue eyes bright and clear like his nephew Ollie had at that age.
Charles felt a vise wrap around his chest. He stared at the dark-haired boy a few more seconds, then staggered back a step, clutching at his shirtfront. “That baby looks exactly like the boys in my family.” He met Alice’s gaze. “He looks like me.”
She stared at him, a mix of emotions ranging from apprehension to relief flashing across her delicate features. One hand was wrapped around the stroller’s handle, like a gust of wind was coming and she needed the buggy to ground her. “Yes,” she said simply, after an awkward moment. “He’s yours.”
A dull roar filled Charles’s head. He had a baby. A son. He was a father. It seemed impossible. Yes, he’d dated plenty of women, but he’d been careful. Always. He’d always...
“How did this happen?”
The baby made another noise, and Alice picked him up, cradling the boy in her arms. “The usual way, I guess,” she said with an almost apologetic smile. “That night at the conference—”
“I remember the bloody night,” Charles yelled, then scrubbed a hand over his jaw as Alice flinched. He took a breath, made his voice lower. “But we used protection. As I remember, the first condom was yours.”
As Alice nodded, her cheeks flamed bright pink. She lowered herself to the park bench, still holding the baby tight to her chest. “I’d been saving it,” she told him. “For my...first time. That was a mistake.”
For an instant, Charles wondered if she was referring to the old condom or choosing him to take her virginity. It had been obvious that she was inexperienced, but he hadn’t realized the full extent of her innocence until he’d pushed inside her. He’d tried to be gentle, to make it good for her, but his desire and need for her had been a force like nothing he’d experienced before.
Misinterpreting his silence, she continued, “I didn’t mean for it to happen. You have to believe me, Charles. If you want a DNA test, I understand.”
He looked at Flynn and simply knew deep in his soul. This was his son. He might be shocked, but there was no doubt she was telling the truth. “No test,” he told her curtly.
“It’s never been my intention to trap you. I just thought you should know.”
“Why now?” He paced back and forth in front of the bench, too frantic with conflicting emotions to stand still. “I should have bloody well known a year ago.”
“What would you have done?”
He stopped to consider the question and turned to Alice, who seemed to read his thoughts before even he knew them.
Her chin tipped up and her shoulders straightened. “I know who you are, Charles. I know how you live.” Gone suddenly was the nervous, shy girl he’d encountered, and in her place was a fierce, formidable mother. She adjusted the infant in her arms and leaned forward. “I loved this baby from the moment I discovered I was pregnant. I was going to be his mother, no matter what anyone else thought of the decision.”
Resolve mixed with tension in her gaze. Charles caught a brief glimpse of what a woman like Alice must have endured, making the choice to become a single mother. Who had supported her during the pregnancy and the baby’s birth? Would he have stepped into that role if she had told him?
“I didn’t say I don’t want him,” he said, the anger at not knowing disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. He sank next to her on the bench and lifted one finger to trace the top of the baby’s small head. The boy had a decent amount of hair for a little one, dark and downy soft.
“You certainly didn’t say you did,” Alice countered.
Charles nodded, willing to acknowledge that, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “I’ll admit this is quite a shock. I don’t know you well, Alice, but I’d gather a one-night stand with a stranger isn’t the way you planned to bring a child into the world.”
She let out a small, tired laugh. “Nothing about this was part of my plan, but he’s here now. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Does he have a name?”
Alice smiled. “Flynn. His name is Flynn Davis Meyers.”
“A strong name,” Charles told her. “I like it. Although I suppose it will be Flynn Davis Fortune Chesterfield now.” He closed his eyes for a moment, leaned his head back and tried to gather his roiling thoughts. “I almost understand why you didn’t tell me at first, but after he was born...”
“I’m sorry, Charles. Really, I am.” She placed a hand on his arm. The touch was light, but it reverberated through him. “I had a lot of resistance at first from my friends and family. Not only could no one believe I’d gotten pregnant, but they also didn’t think I could handle a baby on my own. Not my coworkers, friends or even my parents.” Flynn fidgeted in her arms and she drew her hand away from Charles to snuggle the baby closer, his eyes drifting shut again. “But I knew being a mother would change everything for me.”
She gazed at Flynn, her eyes full of so much affection that Charles instinctively leaned closer, wanting to be a part of that kind of love.
“It did change me,” she said. “It made me better and stronger, but I got used to being on my own. I started relying on myself and it felt like that was my only option. Until...”
“Until what?” Charles asked, so close now he could smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo.
“It’s silly, but I was getting a haircut last month and saw a picture of you in an old tabloid magazine.”
Charles grimaced. “Whatever the article said, I highly doubt it was true.”
She laughed, and Charles watched as Flynn’s eyes snapped open, focusing on her face. The boy seemed as fascinated by Alice as Charles felt. How did a baby form that bond so quickly? Did Charles have it in him to be any sort of father to this child?
“It was a photo of you holding your niece, Clementine. The magazine was from last year, so she was around Flynn’s age in the picture. You looked so...” Alice searched his face, offered him another hopeful smile.
“Terrified out of my mind,” he suggested.
“Natural,” she corrected. “You looked natural holding the baby—like it made you happy.”
“Little Clementine is a fine baby.”
She shrugged. “It made me realize it wasn’t fair to keep Flynn from you. Again, I’m sorry. For the shock and for not telling you earlier. Like I said, I don’t expect anything from you.”
He knew she meant the words as comfort, but they were like salt in an open wound. No one had ever expected anything from Charles. Nothing beyond a laugh, a free pint and a good time. For a long time, he’d liked it that way. But now...this was different.
“Would you like to hold him?” Alice asked gently.
He almost said no. Flynn wasn’t a niece or nephew he could bounce on his knee, then hand back to a doting parent. He was the parent. Alice might think he looked like a natural, but he certainly didn’t feel like one. Still, when she shifted toward him, Charles reached for the baby.
“Relax,” Alice coached him. “You’re doing fine.”
Forcing his muscles to loosen, Charles held the baby close to his chest, cradled in the crook of his arm. Flynn yawned, stretched and blinked. His blue gaze, so familiar, yet all his own, met Charles’s. At that moment, Charles felt his world rumble and shift. It wasn’t like a lightning bolt or clap of thunder. But the energy inside him changed. Here was the meaning he’d been craving in his life, all wrapped up in one tiny, powder-scented package. He was holding his son in his arms.
He wrapped his arms tighter around the baby and placed a gentle kiss on Flynn’s forehead.
* * *
Alice gasped when Charles kissed Flynn, her whole world suddenly spinning out of control.
Charles glanced up at her. “Did I do something wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. I just didn’t think you’d to take to him so quickly. I thought...” She trailed off, knowing that everything she’d expected about Charles’s reaction to finding out he had a son was insulting and, apparently, off the mark.
Obligation and a niggling sense of guilt had prompted her to call him when she’d found out he was visiting his family in Texas. But she hadn’t realized what had stopped her from contacting him before that. It wasn’t as much how he would respond to the knowledge of being a father, but Alice’s reaction to Charles.
They’d spent only one night together, but she’d felt the overwhelming charge of attraction and longing as soon as she looked up and saw him standing in front of her today. He was just as handsome, looking almost formal and wholly British in his slim trousers, expensive loafers and dark, fitted shirt.
The temperature was beginning to rise as the sun drew higher in the sky, and Alice could feel a bead of sweat roll between her shoulder blades. Charles, on the other hand, looked as dashing and sophisticated as if he were ready to meet a foreign dignitary. He smelled delicious, expensive and spicy. The scent made her want to lean in closer to him and beg him to press his mouth to hers.
She was such a fool.
Charles likely hadn’t given her a moment’s thought in the past year, and she’d struggled to keep him out of her mind and, more annoyingly, her dreams. But Charles in the flesh was far more powerful than her fantasy version. To see him show such easy affection with her son—with their son—made Alice almost melt on the spot.
Unfortunately, it also made the future far more complicated, and she liked her simple life with Flynn.
“My father was a wonderful man,” Charles told her, his gaze back on the baby. “The most honorable, good-hearted, kind person I’ve ever known. I couldn’t ever hope to compare to him, but I want to follow his example. I’m going to do the right thing by Flynn, Alice. I promise you that much.”
She nodded dumbly, unable to speak around the emotion rising thick and hot in her throat. Automatically, she reached for the baby, needing the weight of Flynn in her arms to settle her. Charles handed him to her, their fingers brushing as he did. She felt the touch all the way to her toes, her skin tingling with awareness. Needing to gain control of herself, Alice stood and gently placed Flynn back into his stroller. She strapped him into the infant seat and turned to Charles. “I should go,” she said, “Thank you for meeting me and for being so good about all of this. I really don’t—”
“Expect a call from me tomorrow,” Charles interrupted, also standing. He slid the sunshade over Flynn and took a step toward Alice before stopping. “I have some plans to put into motion, papers to draw up.” His fingers rested on the stroller handle as hers had earlier. His touch was confident, proprietary, and despite his devil-may-care attitude about life, Alice knew from Charles’s work with the tourism council that he was smart and cunning, with powerful connections on both sides of the Atlantic. Once he decided there was something he wanted, little could stop him from having it.
“If you change your mind, I understand,” Alice said quickly, no longer sure what she wanted from her son’s father. Afraid of both what he made her feel and the way he could change her life.
“I won’t.” He leaned forward, kissed her cheek in much the same way he’d kissed Flynn’s forehead. The brush of his lips was gentle, sweet and utterly irresistible. Cue the melting once again. Great. Just when Alice needed to keep her wits about her, one innocent touch could turn her to mush. “Thank you, Alice,” he said as he straightened. “For calling me. This morning has changed everything.”
“Goodbye, Charles,” she said, and gripped the stroller handle harder than necessary. He moved back and she turned for the path toward her car, his words echoing in her ears.
Yes, everything had changed. Now she wondered exactly what that would mean for her.
Chapter Three (#ulink_e6faf522-f7db-5d62-9c09-4c0c741f6e14)
“Why am I such an idiot?” she asked Meredith later that night. They were back in Alice’s cozy apartment, and she’d just put Flynn down for the night.
“Something about a hot guy will do that to you.” Meredith tipped her wineglass toward Alice. “Add a British accent to the mix, and it’s no wonder your ovaries went into overdrive with Charlie Boy.”
“He wants to be a father to Flynn,” Alice told her friend with a small sigh. She brought her own glass to her lips but set it on the coffee table before taking a drink. Her head had been pounding since the meeting with Charles, and she didn’t need anything to make it worse.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Meredith asked, clearly confused.
“No...yes... I have no idea what I want,” Alice admitted. “I’m so tired, I can’t think straight.”
Meredith gave her a sympathetic smile. “The transition back to work hasn’t been an easy one.”
“I love my job, but it’s different now that I have Flynn. Everything is different.” Her maternity leave had ended just over a month ago, and she’d returned to her job with the Texas Tourism Board, which was based out of Austin. She’d worked there for just over three years, and what Alice lacked in a gregarious, outgoing personality, she made up for in attention to detail, understanding the market and her ability to assess what people wanted out of a visit. But it was more difficult for those skills to shine through when she was chronically sleep deprived and always torn between being at work or at home with her son.
She’d modified her schedule so she could work from home two days a week, and had found a semiretired nanny, a sweet older woman, to watch Flynn another two days. Alice’s mother took the baby one day a week. But Alice still got up before dawn most mornings to put in extra hours, and with Flynn’s sometimes erratic sleeping patterns, she never felt rested. Her exhaustion was starting to take a toll, and Alice often felt like she was slogging through mud just to form a coherent thought.
“Charles had a right to know he has a child,” she told Meredith, “but I never expected him to take to the idea so readily. Of course I want Flynn to know his father, but he’s my son. Mine.” Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. “Flynn is my sole reason for being and now I’m going to have to share him. What if Charles wants partial custody? What if he takes Flynn to England for part of the year?” She knew she sounded irrational but couldn’t help it. Being a mother was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She couldn’t imagine a night when she didn’t tuck Flynn in bed or a morning without a baby-scented snuggle to greet her.
“What if he wants the three of you to be a family?” Meredith asked.
Alice snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Charles has no interest in me beyond Flynn. He barely remembered who I was at first. Just another in his long list of conquests in the bedroom.” She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. “Not that I was much of a prize.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Alice. You’re not an awkward teenager anymore. In case you haven’t looked in a mirror in the past few years, you’re gorgeous. Men stare at you everywhere we go.”
“They don’t—”
“They do, but you don’t notice.”
“I noticed Charles,” Alice admitted. “We only had one night together and it’s been over a year. I’m tired, stressed and still have ten pounds of baby weight to lose. The last thing on my mind is men. But I could barely form a sentence this morning because of my reaction to him. How am I supposed to remain calm and in control when all I want is to...”
“Jump his bones?” Meredith suggested with a wink.
Alice laughed at the old-school expression, a welcome break in the tension that seemed ready to consume her. “I’m a mother now, Mer.”
“Last time I checked, you’re still a woman.”
The funny thing was, the only time Alice had felt like a woman recently was with Charles. He made her feel alive and aware of herself in a different way than normal. In a way that made her hot and itchy and longing for...more. It had to be something biological, like pheromones. There was no other way to account for her reaction to him. “Until I know how Charles wants to proceed, I can’t let down my guard. Flynn is my first—my only—priority.”
“Then you have to at least give Charles a chance.” Meredith stood, picked up both their wineglasses. “For Flynn’s sake.”
Alice unfolded her legs and followed her friend to the kitchen, where Meredith set the glasses in the sink. “Thanks for listening. I needed a friend tonight.”
“My pleasure, sweetie.” Meredith hugged her. “I’ve got to go now. I’m meeting a few people for drinks at a bar downtown. Want to call a last-minute sitter and join us?”
Alice grimaced. “It’s nearly nine.”
“The night is young.”
“Not for me. I’m exhausted and my alarm is already set for five tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll see you at the office, then,” Meredith said.
Alice locked the door to her apartment behind her friend and sighed. Her mind drifted to Charles and what he might be doing tonight. Was he also at a bar downtown or out to dinner with a woman? He had no shortage of female companionship, and Alice knew she didn’t stand a chance when compared to the women he usually favored. Of course, she’d see him again, thanks to Flynn, but Alice hated that she longed for more. Her attraction to him made her feel weak when what she needed was to be strong for her son.
She quietly let herself into Flynn’s room. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she approached the crib. He slept on his back, his face turned toward her, and her heart swelled with love at how innocent he was. He deserved the best she could give him, which was why she worked so hard, put in extra hours and ignored her own needs. That’s what mothers did for their children.
She’d wait to hear from Charles and concentrate on ignoring her feelings for the tall, handsome Englishman. Her only identity was that of a mother, and it was better for everyone if she didn’t fool herself into thinking it could be anything else.
* * *
Charles lay in bed early the next morning, watching the windows of his hotel suite slowly brighten with dawn light. His sleep had been sporadic and fitful. He’d drift off, only to awake in a cold sweat minutes later. Wispy tendrils of panic had threatened to claim him in the dark, so many unspoken fears and regrets from his life coalescing into one important word.
Father.
Bloody hell.
What had he been thinking to tell Alice he wanted to be a part of Flynn’s life? She’d seemed more than willing to let him off the hook. Shirking responsibility was Charles’s specialty in life. He’d even made a successful career of taking the easy way out. He traveled, shook hands with dignitaries and the rich and famous. He attended parties and smiled for the cameras, and somehow that made him an asset to the British tourism industry.
His existence was so different than that of his siblings, with their businesses, philanthropic projects and seemingly endless supply of energy and work ethic. Even if the superficiality of his life had begun to chafe at his soul, it was what Charles did well. He knew he wouldn’t fail at being a man about town. The stakes were too low for him to care that much. And if he didn’t care, he couldn’t be hurt. Wouldn’t disappoint anyone.
Flynn and Alice were different. They upped the stakes in a manner that scared the hell out of him. Charles certainly knew people whose lifestyles hadn’t been affected by parenthood. Friends of his from the exclusive schools he’d attended growing up hired nurses, nannies and housekeepers while they continued to party and travel with their society wives, leaving the care of the children to the hired help. It was a time-honored tradition in the British upper class but bore little resemblance to how Sir Simon and Lady Josephine had raised Charles and his siblings.
His parents had built their lives around the family, raising a tight-knit group of children with love, laughter and bucketfuls of patience.
Charles knew he’d been a particular challenge, always into mischief as a boy and usually pulling one or more of his siblings along with him. It was all in good fun, and as much as he pushed the limits of his parents’ patience, he never once doubted their unconditional love.
He’d spent enough time with his siblings and their spouses to know they were raising their children with much the same philosophy. His family set the bar high, and this was the first time Charles felt the need to live up to those standards.
If only he knew how.
He didn’t have the first clue about being an instant family man, and it wasn’t just Flynn that scared him. The beautiful blonde from a year ago had occasionally flitted across his mind, leaving him with a satisfied smile and a trace of longing. Seeing Alice again had felt like a swift blow to the head, knocking him off his game and instantly breaking through the self-control he’d so carefully cultivated. He tried to tell himself it was simply because she was now the mother of his son, but it felt like something more. It felt as if she might be the answer to a question he hadn’t even thought to pose.
He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and quickly texted Lucie. A part of him dreaded telling anyone in his family about this monumental development in his life, but they were bound to discover it sooner than later. One thing that came with having such a close family was the inability to keep anything secret.
But his younger sister had managed to keep her marriage to Chase Parker under wraps for ten years. Technically, Lucie had believed that the marriage had been annulled shortly after it had taken place, but still...
Lucie texted back almost immediately and agreed to meet him for breakfast in an hour. He forced himself out of bed, then took a hot shower in the hopes of reviving himself a bit. He was on his third cup of black coffee in the hotel restaurant when his sister sank into the chair across from him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, folding her hands in front of her on the table. “I thought you were heading to Horseback Hollow this morning.”
“Plans changed,” he said, his leg bouncing under the table. It probably hadn’t been the best idea to overcaffeinate before this conversation.
“Official royal tourism business, I assume,” Lucie said with a smirk. She took a drink of water from the goblet set at her place. None of his siblings ever tired of teasing him about the ad campaign.
“I have a son,” Charles answered, the older brother in him slightly gratified when she choked and coughed, her eyes widening in shock as she lifted a napkin to her mouth.
“How... When... Who...?” Lucie looked as gobsmacked as Charles felt, but it was good to say the words out loud. Not that holding Flynn in his arms hadn’t made it real, but he’d almost wondered if lightning might strike him down for actually claiming the boy as his own.
A waiter approached their table, and Charles glanced at the menu. “I’ll have the eggs Benedict,” he told the young man. “How about you, Luce?”
She didn’t move but continued to stare at him, mouth agape.
“She’ll have tea and the granola and yogurt, I believe.”
With a curious glance at Lucie, the waiter nodded and walked away.
Charles picked up his coffee cup, then set it down again, as his head was still buzzing. He waved his fingers in front of his sister’s face until she blinked. “Which question would you like answered first?”
Patting the napkin to her lips, she leaned forward. “How did this happen?”
He felt the corner of his mouth curve, since that was the exact question he’d first asked Alice. “The usual way.”
Lucie blinked a few more times. “How old is the boy?”
“Four months.”
“And the mother?”
“I don’t know her exact date of birth, but I’d guess midtwenties.”
“This is serious, Charles.”
“Trust me, Lucie,” he said, as he ran a hand through his hair, “I know that.”
She gave the barest nod of acknowledgment. “Who is the mother?”
“Her name is Alice Meyers.”
“The woman who called when we were out the other day?”
“Yes. She lives here in Austin and heard I was in town.”
“Why hadn’t she told you about the baby before now?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t think I would want to be involved.”
Lucie tilted her head, considering that.
“I’m not certain she even wants me involved,” Charles continued. “She seems to be managing fine on her own.”
“Are you sure...” Lucie trailed off as the waiter brought a small tea service to the table.
“That he’s mine?” Charles finished when the waiter had left again. “Yes. His name is Flynn, and he looks just like me and quite a bit like Ollie when he was that age.”
Lucie met Charles’s gaze as she unwrapped a tea bag and poured steaming water over it. “Still...how well do you know this Alice Meyers? If she’s one of your usual girls, you should have proof. There are tests—”
“Alice offered, but I refused.” He took a deep breath as he thought about Alice’s big eyes and sweet smile. “She wouldn’t...there’s no question. I’m the father.”
“So what now?”
Charles had a minute to think about his answer as their food arrived. “I’ve put in a call to the family attorney,” he said, then took a bite of egg. “The first order of business is making provisions for the boy.”
“There’s more to being a daddy than ‘making provisions,’ Charles.” Lucie’s tone was chiding.
“I understand that, but I have to start somewhere.” He pointed his fork at his sister. “Cut me a bit of slack, Lucie. This was a shock, to say the least.”
She nodded. “Well, if this Alice Meyers isn’t asking for anything, then I suppose you have options.”
“What kind of options?” Charles demanded, his breakfast suddenly churning in his stomach. He tossed his napkin over his barely eaten plate of food. “Are you suggesting that I ignore the responsibility I have to my son?” He said the words through clenched teeth, hating that they were exactly what he’d been thinking earlier. A child meant commitment, and everyone knew Charles didn’t do commitment.
But he wanted to now. He wanted to be a decent father to Flynn. He wanted someone to believe he could.
“You wouldn’t ignore it,” Lucie said gently. “I’m fully aware of how you’ve lived to this point, Charles, but you are a good man in your heart. You’re our father’s son. You will make this work.”
His sister’s words were a salve on the wound of his self-doubt. Lucie was right. Charles might not have any idea of how to be a father, but as he’d told Alice, he’d had the best role model anyone could ask for in Sir Simon. Still, he wondered where to even begin. “He’s so tiny,” he said to Lucie. “Like a miniature old man. Only soft and cute.”
Lucie grinned. “That’s an interesting mental image. Do you have a picture?”
Charles shook his head. “I could barely remember my own name once I saw him, let alone to take a photo. But I’m staying in Austin and will get to know him.”
“What about Alice?”
“I’ll prove to her that I deserve to be part of Flynn’s life, if that’s what it takes.”
“What I meant was, where does Alice fit into all of this? Mothers and babies are kind of a package deal, you know. How do you feel about Alice?”
“Alice seems...” How did he describe his jumbled feelings for a woman he’d spent only one night with but couldn’t get out of his mind? Alice was not just beautiful on the outside but a truly good person, someone who deserved to be loved and cherished. She was the kind of woman who produced thoughts of rings and bended knees and forever. Charles might be able to manage fatherhood, but that didn’t make him a forever type of chap. “She’s nice, Lucie. Far too nice for someone like me.”
“You’ve always sold yourself short.”
“I’m a realist,” he argued. “I know who I am.”
“You know who you’ve been up until now,” she countered. “You’re not in Britain, Charles. Trust me, Texas is the best place for a new start.”
“One step at a time.”
“Just promise me you’ll get to know Alice as well as the baby.”
He signaled for the check. “Of course. I’ll be spending time with both of them. I can’t very well take a baby gallivanting about town on my own.”
“You know what I mean.” Lucie rolled her eyes. “You have more walls surrounding you than the Tower of London. Get to know her, Charles, and let her know you. The real you, not only Bonnie Lord Charlie.”
“Does that mean you believe there’s more to me than ‘the royal treatment’?” he asked. It was meant to be a joke but the question came out in an almost desperate tone.
“I know there is,” Lucie answered just as gravely.
He gave a curt nod, hoping his sister was right.
Chapter Four (#ulink_a9f04e8c-aca3-539e-9635-d5f0cc67b636)
Alice finished giving Flynn his bottle just as the doorbell rang later that afternoon. Charles had texted in the morning, asking if he could stop by to talk about the next steps, and Alice had been teetering on the edge of panic ever since.
What did that mean? She knew she had rights as Flynn’s mother, but was also aware that her meager resources were no match for the Fortune Chesterfield family’s power and influence.
She placed the empty bottle in the sink and threw a burp cloth over her shoulder as she walked toward the door. Her legs grew heavier with each step, even though she’d donned her favorite wedge sandals, a black-and-white zebra-print pattern with sparkling crystals embedded in the ankle strap. Alice didn’t need the extra height but somehow wearing heels always gave her a little jolt of confidence. And she needed all the confidence she could get to face Charles again.
She opened the door slowly, mentally steeling herself for the sight of the tall, dapper Brit. Unfortunately, not even a superhero-level force field could protect her from Charles. Today he wore dark trousers and a crisp tailored button-down shirt. He looked amazing. She bit down on her lip to keep a groan from escaping, and he flashed a quick, almost uncertain smile.
“Hullo, Alice.” That accent should be illegal for the things it did to her insides. But before the requisite melting could start, Flynn let out a burp that would make a drunken sailor proud. Nothing like a bit of baby reflux for an icebreaker.
She rubbed a hand along Flynn’s back and stepped away from the door. “Come on in.” Then she glanced at the throng of bags and packages gathered at Charles’s feet. “Did you rob a toy store?”
He gave her another smile and adjusted his shirt collar. “I hope you don’t mind. I picked up a few necessities for the boy.”
Flynn belched again and this time she could feel something warm soak into the cloth over her shoulder. She dipped her chin to look at Flynn, whose cheek was now resting in a puddle of spit-up formula. “Let me just clean him up,” she said quickly, noting that Charles’s expression was an equal mix of amusement and disgust.
She turned for the nursery and made quick work of cleaning Flynn, who gurgled and gazed at her. She changed his outfit, ridiculously wanting her son to make a good impression with Charles this afternoon. She realized if Charles did indeed decide to be a regular part of Flynn’s life, he’d have to get used to the dirty work of taking care of a baby. Still, for now she wanted things to be easy.
By the time she returned to the apartment’s small living area, it appeared that half the room was filled with toys and space-guzzling baby contraptions. Alice had purchased the bare essentials when she was pregnant, both to save money and because her two-bedroom apartment in the trendy neighborhood west of downtown and close to her work had a lot of charm but not much room.
“Is that a T-ball set?” she asked, balancing Flynn in one arm as she pointed to a package that held an oversize baseball and plastic T.
“Baseball is the American pastime,” Charles told her. “I thought Flynn and I could learn together.”
She couldn’t help her smile. “It will be a few years before he’s ready for a ball and glove.”
“I have time,” Charles answered, his tone serious. “I want you to know I’m here for the duration, Alice. I’ll admit I have no idea what I’m doing.” He gestured to the mass of packages on the floor, looking hopeful and utterly irresistible. “But I want to try, if you’ll give me a chance.”
The good news was she’d gone a whole five minutes without melting into a needy, longing puddle at Charles’s feet. The bad news was, with one sentence, he’d completely turned her to mush. She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.
She knew he was talking about trying with Flynn, but Alice couldn’t stop herself from wanting more. For a year she’d been fine, proud that she’d risen to the challenge of having a baby by herself, resolved to raise Flynn on her own.
Charles made her long for things a woman like her couldn’t expect to have. What he was offering had to be enough. It was the right thing for Flynn, and that’s what was important. As much as she’d tried to convince herself otherwise, a boy needed his father. Her own dad was sweet, if a bit distant and bumbling, in the role of grandpa, much as he’d been as a father to her. But Henry Meyers, tenured professor of history at the University of Texas at Austin, was never going to teach Flynn to play baseball or how to catch a fish or any of the things men other than her father seemed to know by osmosis.
Charles, for all his formal British mannerisms and expensive suits, was a man’s man. She’d seen pictures on the internet of him horseback riding and fly-fishing, things she wanted her son to learn if he was interested.
“As soon as I discovered I was pregnant,” she said quietly, “my baby became my whole world. I’d do anything for Flynn. I thought it was right not to tell you, Charles. I figured you’d be like the rest of my family and friends, who thought I couldn’t handle being a mother. They said I was too fragile, that it took strength and hard work to raise a child alone.” She pressed a cheek to the top of Flynn’s downy head. “I needed to prove to them, and to myself, that I could do it.”
“Alice.”
She shook her head. “You say you don’t know what you’re doing, but many new parents don’t at the beginning. Even if you think you’re prepared, if you’ve read every child-rearing book and article ever published, if every weekend has been filled with classes and workshops, nothing prepares you for the moment you hold the baby. Nothing truly prepares you to take that tiny bundle home, knowing you’re responsible for another life. I’ve learned a lot in just four months, and here’s the one thing that can’t be taught.”
She took a deep breath, cleared her throat. “It’s how to love someone. The reason parents work so hard is love. A life-altering, fierce and potent love for your baby that makes all the sleepless nights and fear and doubt worth it.” She stepped closer, watched Charles’s blue eyes widen as he glanced between her and Flynn. “You said your father was wonderful, and I know you come from a close-knit family. You know how to love, Charles. I don’t expect it to happen overnight, but I know you’ll make a good father. I believe Flynn is lucky to have you.” She smiled and held the baby toward him.
* * *
Charles didn’t realize how much he needed to have someone believe in him until Alice said the words out loud. This woman, whom he barely knew, seemed to see into the heart of him, past his superficial facade and the walls he’d constructed that everyone else assumed made him who he was. She slew him with her honesty—a unique mix of vulnerability and strength.
He reached for Flynn, even as he wanted to scoop up Alice, too. His fingers itched to pull them both close and hope some of her goodness transferred to him. He settled for the baby, aware that Alice had let him into her life for the sake of the boy.
Supporting Flynn’s body in the crook of his elbow, he placed a hand on the back of the baby’s head and lifted him. Flynn’s deep blue gaze focused on Charles, glancing from his nose to his mouth, then finally settling on his eyes. They watched each other for a moment before Flynn squirmed and his tiny, rosebud mouth curved into a small smile.
Charles hitched in a breath, knocked for an emotional loop at how much one tiny smile could mean to him. “I think he has gas,” he muttered.
Alice laughed. “He’s smiling at you. He’s a happy baby, Charles.” She stifled a yawn. “Not much of an overnight sleeper, but very happy.”
He stood there, transfixed by the baby in his arms. “What do I do now?”
She laughed again. “Talk to him. Bounce him. He’s just like your niece and nephews.”
“He’s different,” Charles whispered. “He’s mine.”
Alice sank to her knees on the floor. “Is there anything in this generous pile of gifts that he can use before he’s a toddler?”
Right. The toys. The reminder snapped Charles out of his reverie. “We should be able to find something. What do you think, Flynn?” He lifted the baby closer, blew a tickling breath against his neck and was rewarded with a gurgling laugh. It was the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Try that,” he said, pointing to one of the larger shopping bags. He lowered himself next to her, turning Flynn to sit on his forearm, the baby’s back and head resting against Charles’s chest. “I got an activity gym. The colors are glaringly bright, but the saleslady assured me it’s top-of-the-line and perfect for a four-month-old.” He glanced at her. “Unless you have one already?”
“Not yet,” Alice said with a shy smile. She reached for the bag but stopped as Flynn let out a determined grunt.
Charles glanced down at the boy, whose face turned bright red. “I think he’s digested the bottle,” he told Alice as he quickly held out Flynn with two hands. The baby kicked and gurgled some more, but there was no mistaking the smell radiating from his back end.
“Let me,” Alice said quickly, scrambling to her feet. “We’ll be back in a minute.”
Charles let out a relieved breath as she disappeared into a bedroom with Flynn. Twenty-four hours a dad, and Charles wasn’t sure he was quite ready for nappy duty. Instead he pulled the activity gym out of the box and fastened the toys to the arches that crisscrossed over the soft mat. By the time Alice returned with a fresh-scented Flynn, Charles was just putting batteries into the motorized mobile piece of the play set.
Alice crouched down and lay Flynn on his back under the arches. The boy immediately kicked his feet and swatted at the dangling toys with his hands.
“He’s got the hang of it already,” Charles said proudly. “Smart lad. Takes after his...” He paused as Alice arched a brow. “Both his parents.”
“Of course,” she agreed with a grin.
He loved making Alice smile and was surprised to find himself content to watch Flynn play with the toys, entranced by the joyful noises the baby made. Alice settled on the floor, stretching her legs in front of her, her back resting against one of the chairs in the small family room. Charles wished he could pull her to his side, tuck her up against him and feel her breathing, but he also knew what he wanted from her was less platonic than simple companionship.
He moved to the far side of the activity gym and traced one finger along the leather strap at her ankle. “I love these shoes,” he told her.
“Me, too.” She flexed and pointed her foot a few times. “I’d have a lot more savings in my retirement account if I didn’t love shoes so much.”
“You don’t have to worry about a retirement account any longer,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you and Flynn.”
Immediately she moved, drawing her feet up underneath her. “That’s not what I was suggesting. You don’t owe me anything, Charles.”
“You’re the mother of my child, Alice. Do you really think I’d ignore that?”
“I didn’t seek you out for financial support.”
“Which doesn’t change the fact that I have it to give.”
She bit down on her lip, moved closer to Flynn and softly stroked one of his tiny feet. “Are you going to try to take him away from me?”
“No,” Charles answered immediately, taking her hand in his. “Alice, look at me.”
She glanced up, her gaze wary.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re rich and powerful and British. Texas isn’t your home. I know that.”
He chuckled softly. “It’s quickly becoming my second home, especially since most of my family lives here now.”
“But you’ll return to England at some point.”
He nodded.
“I can’t be separated from Flynn. He’s too young. He’s all I have.”
“That isn’t my intention, Alice.” As much as he’d loved making her smile, Charles equally hated that he’d caused the pain he saw in her eyes now. “I’ve changed my plans so I’ll be in Austin for three weeks. After that, I’ll need to figure out the next step. But I’m not going to take Flynn from you. I promise, Alice.”
She gave a shaky nod, swiped under her eye. He shifted closer to her and traced the pad of his thumb along her moist cheek. “No tears, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I’m tired and...”
“No apologies, either.” He dipped his head until his lips barely brushed hers. “We’re in this together. The three of us are a team.”
“A team?” she said, the husky note in her voice making him nip the corner of her mouth.
“Team Fortune Chesterfield,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was soft and yielding, molding to his without question. The taste of her was new and yet familiar, and all the memories of their night together came flooding back to him. The way she’d touched him, her innocence the most erotic thing he’d ever encountered... His fingers trailed through her hair, which was soft as spun silk. He remembered how it felt to have those thick, blond waves fanned out across his chest as she slept. Her tongue touched his, hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure whether he wanted the kiss to deepen.
There were no words for what Charles wanted from Alice. His need was so elemental, the potential ramifications so jumbled in his mind that he could barely form a coherent thought. His body grew heavy with desire. Desire he understood. Then he felt something in his heart, a slight shift from normal, and a skipped beat that had him tearing his mouth away from hers. In all Charles’s many interactions with women, his protected heart had never come into play. No one had ever come close to breaching his defenses.
Until now.
Until Alice.
“I have to go,” he said as he lurched to his feet. “There’s a... I need to... I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She stared up at him as if he had just sprouted a horn from his forehead. Her fingers pressed to her mouth like she couldn’t believe it had, moments earlier, been crushed under his. What the hell was wrong with him? Alice told him she believed in him, gave him a chance to be a father and first thing out of the gate he practically mauled her. So much for his legendary charm and experience. He felt like a randy schoolboy with his first crush.
“Thank you for the gifts,” she said after a moment.
“Of course.” He ran a hand through his hair even as he backed toward the door of her apartment. “I can bring more. If there’s anything you need—”
“No.” She glanced at Flynn, who was now dozing under the activity gym, and then stood. “You’ve done more than enough, Charles.” Her hands were clenched at her sides in tight fists. If he had to guess, she was trying hard not to physically push him from her home. That was no less than what he deserved.
“I’ll call you,” he repeated, and turned for the door. But before opening it, he swung back, dropped to his knees and reached for Flynn’s chubby hand. “Goodbye, little man,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter Five (#ulink_52a36174-96f8-5a6a-9cbb-a385219aac1b)
Alice stood under the shade of an elm tree in front of her building the next afternoon, watching as a sleek Mercedes sedan pulled to the curb. True to his word, Charles had called that morning and asked to see her and Flynn again, suggesting he bring lunch to her apartment.
Unfortunately, Alice didn’t trust herself alone with the handsome Brit after yesterday’s kissing fiasco. Yes, she wanted a father for her son. But could she and Flynn ever be enough for him? She’d told herself at the start of all this that her needs were secondary to those of her son, but she was having trouble convincing her body. It had felt so right when Charles touched his lips to hers, and she’d wanted to sink into him and revel in the feel of her body thrumming back to life.
It had been silly to believe that Charles would want anything more from her than access to Flynn. What could someone like her possibly offer a man like him? The same doubts had plagued her during her pregnancy, contributing to her long list of reasons for not contacting him.
If she’d had any hopes about him wanting her in that way, they’d been shattered when he’d broken their embrace like she’d tried to eat him alive and he had one chance for escape. She’d gone for more than two decades without a man before Charles, and over a year since their night together. Maybe that’s why her need for him seemed to overpower her.
Although she was rarely alone, with Flynn to look after, motherhood added a level of isolation to her already quiet life that she hadn’t expected. Still, she had no intention ruining the fragile bond Charles had with Flynn just because she was the modern day equivalent of a dried-up spinster.
With that in mind, public outings with Charles seemed the most prudent course of action. But they still needed to maintain some level of anonymity. According to Charles, most people believed he’d gone to Horseback Hollow, as was his original plan. That gave them some time, but although Austin wasn’t as overtly overrun with cowboys as Dallas or Houston, Charles didn’t exactly blend in as a local. Alice hoped to remedy that today.
“Tell me again where we’re going,” Charles said as he approached her on the sidewalk. He wore a fitted black sweater, even though the temperature was hovering in the midseventies, and dark, tapered trousers. Even before he uttered a word, anyone within a block could tell he wasn’t American.
“To the mall,” she said. She held Flynn’s infant seat between them, needing every bit of physical distance she could manage.
“As in a shopping mall?”
Alice almost laughed at the words rolling off his tongue in that crisp accent. “Barton Creek Square isn’t far from here, and you need a new wardrobe.”
He ran a hand over the front of his sweater and arched an eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with my clothes?”
“Not if you want to constantly be recognized while you’re in Austin,” she told him. “You dress like you’re British.”
“I am British.”
“Which is why we’re going to turn you into an American for a few weeks.” She smiled and stepped away from the building. “Trust me, Charles.”
“I’m not wearing Wranglers,” he mumbled, and she did laugh.
“No Wranglers,” she agreed. “But at least one ten-gallon hat.”
He shot her a horrified glance.
“I’m kidding.” Alice found that she enjoyed teasing Charles. “Austin’s fashion style is fairly casual and, because of the college and the music scene, it’s less ‘cowboy’ than a lot of places in Texas. You’ll be fine.” She started for the walkway next to her building. “My car’s in the lot around back.”
“We can take mine.”
“You don’t have a car seat base.”
He flashed her a proud smile. “I do, and I had it installed at the fire station the hotel concierge recommended.”
She sucked in a breath, trying not to let her heart be influenced by the thoughtfulness of that gesture. He lifted the car seat out of her hands, their fingers brushing.
“Hullo there, little man,” he said to Flynn as he tipped back the sunshade. Flynn gurgled in response.
“I need to grab his stroller from the trunk of my car.” She shrugged at Charles’s questioning glance. “There’s not a lot of room in the apartment, so I keep it in the car when I’m not using it.”
He considered that for a moment. “A boy needs a yard to romp in, Alice.”
“Flynn has a while to go before the ‘romping’ stage begins.”
“If you’d let me—”
“My apartment is fine.” She held up a hand. “One step at a time. Please.”
“One step at a time. Let’s drive around back to your car.” He hit the remote start on the key fob and then clicked the infant carrier into the base waiting in his back seat. This was the first time she’d gotten in a car with her son and not been driving since her father brought her home from the hospital after Flynn’s birth.
Charles held open the door and she slipped into the buttery leather seat, stowing the diaper bag at her feet.
“Do you always wear heels?” he asked, leaning over the top of the door.
“Whenever possible,” she admitted. “These are low for me.” Today she’d gone casual with a pair of polka-dot espadrilles with a stacked one-inch heel.
“I like them,” he said simply, but the intensity in his eyes as they raked over her body made awareness whisper across her skin.

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