Six Hot Summer Nights. Leslie Kelly

Six Hot Summer Nights - Leslie Kelly


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turned her head, but not before he saw the moisture gather in her eyes. He waited for her to turn back, fully engaged in a crying session in an attempt to gain his sympathy. But when she looked back up, the tears were still there, only unshed and Mia tilted her chin just a bit as if defying them. Damn, he didn’t want to respect her strength.

      “Family means everything, Bronson,” she went on, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ve always dreamed of finding the perfect man for me. We’d settle down in a nice house, we’d create babies out of love and grow old together. I assure you, this scenario was not my dream. You can believe me, or you can choose to believe that I’m just as conniving as other women you’ve grouped me with. That’s up to you. I want this baby to know its father, and I’d hate for you to miss out on the life of your child simply because you’re afraid and this deceitful town has made you cynical.”

      Bronson turned toward the wall of windows and wished like hell she was telling the truth—and that she hadn’t pegged him so easily. She wasn’t the only one who’d had the idea of a family. He’d come from a loving home, one of the few the industry hadn’t tainted. He’d love to someday fill his spacious home with a woman he loved and their babies. So, yeah, Mia wasn’t the only one with dreams.

      But his work had always come first, something his ex-fiancée had thrown in his face. And since then, he had turned cynical—disturbing how Mia homed in on that aspect.

      “I totally understand your reasons for not believing me,” she went on as he continued to stare out the window. “I can only hope my actions back up the truth. I won’t ask for a dime from you, Bronson, or your family. I will continue to work for your mother and support the baby. This baby’s needs have to come before your feelings.”

      She was right. Whether the baby was his or not, the baby didn’t ask to be born, and Mia’s baby had to have top priority.

      So, for now, until he had medical proof, he’d assume what she said was the truth and keep a close watch on her. Because if this baby was his, there was no way in hell Mia was going to raise this child on her own.

      “How are you feeling?” he asked, surprised that he really cared when, for all he knew, she was a first-rate scam artist.

      A soft smile spread across her lips. “Better once lunch passes. I’ve been reading online, and mine is a typical pregnancy. This is all so new to me because I’ve never been around babies. I just can’t devour enough information.”

      Bronson swallowed the lump of emotion. Hearing her excitement made him feel like a jerk, but he had to be cautious. His heart couldn’t take another beating … or another baby ripped from his life.

      “The baby is only the size of a pea right now,” she added, her hand moving to her flat stomach. “Strange how something so tiny can throw off my whole system.”

      “I found a doctor I’d like you to start seeing. She’s the best, and she will keep things quiet if this baby turns out to be mine. I don’t want the press hounding you.”

      Mia’s hand froze on her stomach, and her eyes turned to slits. “I don’t want your doctor, Bronson. I have a doctor I’m quite pleased with and, I assure you, the office won’t reveal who the baby’s father is because I haven’t said a word. Besides, it’s not as if the office will ever know it’s you anyway.”

      Bronson closed the space between them and took a seat next to her on the sofa. “I’m going to your doctor’s appointments, Mia. While I’m not totally convinced this baby is mine, on the chance that it is, I want to be around for every appointment and the birth.”

      For a minute, Mia simply stared. Her natural beauty left him breathless—so flawless, so timeless. The camera would love her. The camera had loved her. He had tabloids with snapshots from Cannes to prove it.

      “I will not have you believe the worst of me and expect me to let you control and watch over my pregnancy,” she told him through gritted teeth. “You can either act like a father or stay away. You can’t have it both ways, Bronson.”

      Oh, he could and he would. But she’d learn that in time. No need to argue right now.

      “Fine,” he agreed. “You stick with your doctor, but I’m coming to all the visits and I will ask questions if I see fit. I will also have my assistant call to make sure your appointments are kept quiet and we get right in. We shouldn’t be seen in the waiting area.”

      Mia rolled her eyes. “They have private waiting areas, Bronson. No need to get all guard dog on me. Besides, you need to talk to your mother and sister. We can’t prolong the inevitable. The media is going to find out soon anyway when I start showing.”

      Bronson could just imagine Mia with a rounded stomach, carrying a baby—possibly his baby. She’d be just as stunning, just as breathtaking.

      Dammit, he hated being torn like this. How could he want something he’d never even had? Granted, he’d more than gotten used to the idea of being a father when his ex-fiancée was pregnant. But when she’d lost the baby, and the truth had come out that it hadn’t even been his, Bronson had buried those crushed emotions and vowed never to be caught up in something that wasn’t his again.

      And here he was insisting he attend all of Mia’s appointments for a baby that could very well be Anthony’s—the very man his ex threw in his face as a potential candidate for being the father.

      All the more reason to loathe the man and be suspicious of his ex-assistant.

      “I’m going to the main house as soon as I leave here,” he told her. “I left a message for Victoria to come over, so I’m hoping she’ll be there, as well. Do you want to join me?”

      Mia’s eyes widened as she let out a soft gasp. “I’m not … I … Bronson, I’m not sure I’d be very good at this family meeting.”

      He hadn’t really intended it as a question. “You’ll come with me because if this baby is mine, you have bonded yourself to the Danes for the rest of your life.” God help him being tied to this seductive woman forever.

      “I’m so sick of your trying to control me,” Mia told him, coming to her feet. “And quit acting like you’re not sure you’re the father. You know you are. Deep down, Bronson, you know. And it hurts me that you would deny this baby even for a second.” She turned, heading toward the foyer. “Let’s get this family meeting over with.”

      With a smile on his face, Bronson watched Mia storm out of her cottage. If his life weren’t in such chaos at the moment, he’d admire her take-charge attitude and independent stance. But since his family was on the line, he needed to focus.

      No way was he letting this temptress under his skin again. From now on he’d be on guard and ready for whatever she threw his way.

      Dread, excitement, fear and anxiety all rolled into one big ball of nerves and settled deep into Mia’s stomach as she and Bronson entered the main house.

      Olivia stood in the formal living room next to the wall of shelves that housed many pictures from her early days in movies as well as several professional pictures of Victoria and Bronson as children. Most of the photos were personal, showcasing the movie family in real life. Swimming in the pool as children, Victoria as a teen ballerina, a young Bronson on the shoulders of his father.

      Mia pulled herself out of the Dane family snapshots and into reality. One day maybe her child would be in a frame in this very room. Mia hoped so. That was one of the things she’d missed as an adult. There were very few pictures of her as a child, though she still had the two photos of her and her parents when they’d first come to America. Those captured moments were something she treasured every day.

      She slid a hand over her locket, reminding herself that she was never alone in life’s endeavors, even if she felt that way at times.

      Soft laughter pulled Mia from her thoughts. Victoria sat in the white club chair on her cell phone speaking French and laughing at someone named Jacques. But once


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