The Billionaire's Borrowed Baby. Janice Maynard
he wasn’t easily thrown off balance. But when Hattie Parker appeared in his office, the first time he’d seen her in over a decade, his heart lodged in his throat, his muscles tensed and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.
She was as beautiful now as she had been at twenty. Sun-kissed porcelain skin, dark brown eyes that held hints of amber. And legs that went on forever. Her silky blond hair barely brushed her shoulders, much shorter than he remembered. He kept the width of his broad mahogany desk between them. It seemed safer that way.
As he struggled with shock, he was stunned to realize the woman he had once loved was holding an infant. Jealousy stabbed sharp and deep. Damn. Hattie was a mother. Which meant there was a man somewhere in the picture.
The sick feeling in his gut stunned him. He’d moved on a long, long time ago. So why was his chest tight and his pulse jumping like a jackrabbit?
He remained standing, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hello, Hattie.” He was proud of the even timbre of his voice.
“Hello, Luc.”
She was visibly nervous. He indicated the chair closest to him and motioned for her to sit. For a brief moment, Luc caught a glimpse of sexy legs as Hattie’s skirt rode up her thighs. The baby clung to her neck, and Hattie wriggled in the chair until she was modestly covered.
He examined her face, deliberately letting the silence accumulate in tense layers. Hattie Parker was the girl next door, a natural, appealing beauty who didn’t need enhancement. Even dressed as she was in fairly unflattering garments, she would stand out in a room full of lovely women.
At one time, she had been his whole world.
And it irked him that the memories still stung. “Why are you here, Hattie? The last time we had sex was a lifetime ago. Surely you’re not going to try and convince me that baby is mine.”
The mockery and sarcasm made her pale. He felt the pinch of remorse, but a guy needed to wield what weapons he could. The man he was today would not be vulnerable. Not ever again.
She cleared her throat. “I need your help.”
He lifted a brow. “I’d have thought I would be the last person on your go-to list.”
“To be honest, you were. But it’s serious, Luc. I’m in big trouble.”
He rocked on his heels. “What’s her name?”
The non sequitur made Hattie frown. “This is Deedee.”
Luc studied the baby. He didn’t see much of Hattie in the child. Maybe the kid took after her dad.
Luc leaned over and punched the intercom. “Marilyn … can you come in here, please?”
It was a toss-up as to which of the two women was more horrified when Luc phrased his next request. When Marilyn appeared, he motioned to the baby. “Will you please take the little one for a few minutes? Her name is Deedee. Ms. Parker and I need to have a serious conversation, and I don’t have much time.”
Hattie wanted to protest, he could tell. But she reluctantly handed the baby over to Luc’s assistant. “Here’s a bottle. She’s getting hungry. And you’ll need this bib and burp cloth. You don’t want to let her ruin your nice suit.”
Luc knew his assistant would be fine. She might be a cold fish, but she was relentlessly efficient.
When the door closed, Luc sat down in his leather office chair. It had been specially ordered to fit his long, lanky frame. He steepled his hands under his chin and leaned back. “So spill it, Hattie. What’s going on in your life to make you seek me out? As I recall, it was you who dumped me and not the other way around.”
She flushed and twisted her hands in her lap. “I don’t think we need to go there. That was a long time ago.”
He shrugged. “All right then. We’ll concentrate on the present. Why are you here?”
When she bit her lip, he shifted in his chair uneasily. Why in God’s name did he still have such vivid memories of kissing that bow-shaped mouth? Running his hands through that silky, wavy hair. Touching every inch of her soft, warm skin. He swallowed hard.
Hattie met his gaze hesitantly. “Do you remember my older sister, Angela?”
He frowned. “Barely. As I recall, the two of you didn’t get along.”
“We grew closer after our parents died.”
“I didn’t know, Hattie. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, tears made her eyes shiny, but she blinked them back. “Thank you. My father died a few years after I graduated. Lung cancer. He was a two-pack-a-day man and it caught up with him.”
“And your mother?”
“She didn’t do well without Daddy. He did everything for her, and without him, the world was overwhelming to her. She finally had a nervous breakdown and had to be admitted to a facility. Unfortunately, she was never able to go back to her home. Angela and I sold the house we grew up in … everything Mom and Dad had, but it wasn’t enough. I practically bankrupted myself paying for her care.”
“Angela didn’t help?”
“She told me I should back off and let the state look after Mother … especially when Mom retreated totally into an alternate reality where she didn’t even recognize us.”
“Some people would think your sister made sense.”
“Not me. I couldn’t abandon my mother.”
“When did you lose her?”
“Last winter.”
He looked at her left hand, but it was bare. Where was her husband in all this? Was the guy a jerk who bailed on Hattie rather than help with the mom? And what about the baby?
Suddenly, it became clear. Hattie needed to borrow money. She was proud and independent, and things must be really bad if she had humbled her pride enough to come to him.
He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. No one who knew their history would blame him if he kicked her out. But though his memories of her were bitter, he didn’t have it in him to be deliberately cruel, especially if a child was involved. And though it might be petty, he rather liked the idea of having Hattie in his debt … a kind of poetic justice. “You’ve had a rough time,” he said quietly. “I’ll be happy to loan you however much money you need, interest free, no questions asked. For old time’s sake.”
Hattie’s face went blank and she cocked her head. “Excuse me?”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To ask if you can borrow some money? I’m fine with that. It’s no big deal. What good is all that cash in the bank if I can’t use it to help an old friend?”
Her jaw dropped and her cheeks went red with mortification. “No, no, no,” she said, leaping to her feet and pacing. “I don’t need your money, Luc. That’s not it at all.”
It was his turn to rise. He rounded the desk and faced her, close enough now to inhale her scent and realize with pained remembrance that she still wore the same perfume. He put his hands gently on her shoulders, feeling the tremors she couldn’t disguise.
They were practically nose to nose. “Then tell me, Hattie. What do you need from me? What do you want?”
She lifted her chin. She was tall for a woman, and he could see the shades of chocolate and cognac in her irises. Her breathing was ragged, a pulse beating at the base of her throat.
He shook her gently. “Spit it out. Tell me.”
She licked her lips. He could see the tracery of blue veins at her temples. Their long separation vanished like mist, and suddenly he was assaulted with a barrage of memories, both good and bad.
The soft, quick kiss he brushed across her cheek surprised them both. He was so close, he