The Twin Birthright

by Catherine Mann

  Naomi waved to the crib tucked in the corner. “Would you like to see them?”

  Milla stifled a wince. She didn’t doubt her mission here, but she didn’t want to think of innocents. That only complicated things. She preferred to keep her focus on the guilty. Ultimately, the most effective way to protect the innocent. “I wouldn’t want to wake them.”

  No way around this.

  Smiling, Naomi walked toward the crib. “We’re about to put them in their car seats to leave, anyway.”

  Milla surrendered to the inevitable and crossed the room, her high heels sinking into the plush carpet. She peered into the crib, where the two infants slept side by side, their heads touching. “They both have a full head of dark hair.” She clutched the side of the crib, clenching her hands to keep from reaching inside. From making a connection, its own sort of sabotage. “They’re beautiful.”

  Even as Milla glanced at the sleeping babies, her throat went tight. To see this through, she needed to remain apart. Distant. She concentrated on the designer blankets instead of those sweet faces.

  “Thank you.” Naomi stepped closer, stopping beside her. “They look like my mother. In fact, Mary is named for her.”

  “That’s a lovely tribute.” Milla backed away, needing space and air to regain her conviction. “I should get to work, and I’m sure you’re ready to head home. Feel free to call if you need anything while your assistant is on vacation.”

  Milla spun on her heels and left, closing the door after her, then sagging back against her desk. She’d done a lot of things she wasn’t proud of over the years. Necessary, but choices that haunted her at times. She didn’t regret the decision to start this path.

  She just hadn’t expected it would be so difficult to see it through.

  * * *

  Royce focused on the road ahead of him, needing a task, routine, control to keep him from being too aware of the woman next to him. He had to keep his head if he expected to make the most of his time with her and the twins. Easier said than done when Naomi had a way of making his go-to logic tough as hell to find.

  He gripped the leather-trimmed steering wheel of his new SUV. Of course, this vehicle was nearly identical to his previous one, just a year newer. This version boasted the same attention to detail. The same precision engineering that he’d researched thoroughly the first time he’d purchased one. A methodical man, a scientist, Royce liked repeatable, predictable patterns. The uniformity of results gave him an anchor in an otherwise chaotic world.

  And as he guided the new SUV around a tight mountainside curve with Naomi and her daughters in tow, he wanted something reliable.

  No extra surprises. Royce had a general idea of how this model would handle in difficult terrain. Which was a good call, considering the snow-capped mountain they were winding around still had evidence of the mudslide from a storm a few weeks ago. The sludge-covered roads stirred a deep worry in his gut, momentarily flashing him back to the moment the twins were born. How that night had been everything but predictable.

  It had required all his willpower to shut down the gut-deep fear for Naomi and focus on keeping her calm while guiding the babies into the world.

  Nightmares plagued him about all the things that could have gone wrong. The hell that would have haunted him if she or the babies hadn’t made it.

  Snowflakes melted as soon as they hit the heated windshield. Glancing quickly in the rearview mirror, he let out a sigh of relief. The road was theirs. No one in sight.

  A strange sense of calm washed over him. Being in the car with the twins and Naomi felt so damn natural. Even more so since they’d taken a detour to get his Saint Bernard. Tessie rested in the far back, curled up on a quilt. They’d placed two baby blankets there as well, one from each of the girls so the dog would grow accustomed to their scent. She rested her big head on the seat, staring at the babies, sniffing the air, but unable to reach them because of her seat belt tether.

  And sure, Royce found his attention drifting to Naomi more than he should, the creamy line of her jaw as she relaxed back in her seat. That easy smile she wore. Her hair flowing in deep waves.

  Turning her gaze from the window, she checked on the sleeping girls behind them. Then called out soothing words of praise to Tessie before glancing at him.

  “Royce, thanks again for helping today.”

  He kept his eyes firmly on the road, all too conscious of the precious cargo in the vehicle. “You’ve thanked me already.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I beg to differ.” He shook his head as the road dipped around a cluster of pine trees. “You would have managed with your sister or a nanny.”

  “Maybe I could have.” Sighing, she turned toward him, her forehead furrowed. “Are you regretting volunteering for this unconventional setup? Because if you are, I understand. I really can ask my family for help. Maybe you should go to your place for a while.”

  The thought of trusting the safety of her and the twins to someone else? No. He couldn’t, and he didn’t want to analyze the why of that. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “I wish I understood better why you’re insisting on us spending time together. Maybe I’m just too brain tired, but this doesn’t seem to be bringing closure.”

  He wished he had the answer to that. But he was sorting it out. Still, she clearly expected him to respond, so he opted for something that would buy him more time. “I thought these girls were going to be mine. I’m learning to say goodbye.”

  Exhaling hard, she sagged back in her seat. “I thought that might be the case, because of what happened with your ex-fiancée.” Her throat moved with a hard swallow as she blinked fast. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  Hell, he hadn’t meant to hurt her—again. Communication wasn’t his forte, even more so when dealing with Naomi. In the past, he’d relied more on their intense physical connection. Although backtracking to repair their communication would only make things worse, since he didn’t have a better answer on how to try.

  Regardless, they were locked into seeing each other for the remaining year on his contract consulting for her family’s oil company. A year of wanting her. A year of remembering what it had been like to have her in his arms, in his bed.

  He winced.

  The best course? Dig in for the next four weeks and hope they both found what they were looking for to put the past to rest.

  * * *

  Naomi couldn’t believe she was back at the office again.

  Her maternity leave was not turning out the way she’d planned. But with the merger in the works and the future of her family’s business at stake, she had to balance it all. For the past ten days, she’d fallen into a rhythm of coming to the office for an hour a day to take care of business that needed addressing in person. The hour also gave her a break from the connection with Royce that she absolutely could not surrender to. She’d let him go for both of their sakes, and with him underfoot, she needed an excuse to break the spell her mind wanted to weave.

  She unpacked her briefcase onto the desk, time being of the essence. The babies napped long enough in the afternoon that she could be away for a short period of time without hauling them from home. Royce swore he enjoyed the quiet time while the babies slept to accomplish work of his own.

  She could see that her huge family was starting to wear on him, yet he wasn’t budging. And she couldn’t bring herself to boot him out. God, they were a messed up ex-couple.

  Shaking off the distracting thoughts, she settled in front of the computer. Slipping into work mode, she embraced feeling in the zone. Her fingers flew at the speed of light across the keyboard as she plowed through the work in front of her, to be ready for her meeting with Chuck Mikkelson. Officially her stepbrother now, but also a force to be reckoned with in the Mikkelson empire. She couldn’t afford to assume someone
didn’t have a hidden agenda just because they were family now and merging the companies.

  Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button to buzz for Glenna’s new assistant, Milla Jones.

  Deep down, Naomi knew she needed to delegate. But admitting she needed help went against all she’d worked so hard to become. Still, exhaustion crept in. She buzzed again.

  “Is there a problem?” A soft voice with a trace of a Canadian accent filtered through the sleek speaker.

  Tucking a pen behind her ear, Naomi scanned the desk again. Nope. No sign of the much needed files. She let go an exasperated sigh. “I can’t seem to locate the files I need for my meeting with Chuck Mikkelson.”

  “What files would those be?”

  Removing the pen from behind her ear, Naomi leaned forward on Glenna’s desk. Dropping her head in her palm, she rubbed her temple, stress mounting. “The numbers Glenna and Broderick worked up on the improvements to the pipeline to North Dakota.”

  “I have them right here on my desk. Give me two seconds.” The speaker went silent and moments later the door opened. Milla pulled a stack of files from under her arm. “They’re in here.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Naomi reached for them, unable to help but notice how chic and put together the blonde looked, with perfect waves in her hair and not a wrinkle in her pencil skirt. “I was concerned I left some brain cells at the girls’ 3:00 a.m. feeding.”

  Naomi resisted the urge to smooth a hand over her leggings, one of the few things that fit, along with one of Royce’s cotton button-downs she’d grabbed off the back of a chair. She’d been running late, so hurriedly threw on a chunky necklace and leather boots. She needed to go shopping, but time was limited these days.

  “I’m in awe you’re here.” The assistant tapped the two files. “I’ve emailed copies, as well.”

  “You’re efficient. I appreciate your help.”

  Milla tipped her head to the side, surveying the office with great intensity before shrugging on her way out. “Just learning my way around, getting to know all the people.”

  The door clicked closed, leaving Naomi alone again. The hair on the nape of her neck prickled. Something about the new assistant felt...off. Something she couldn’t quite articulate or grasp, but the same spidery sense that sometimes tingled during court cases.

  Shaking her head, she decided it must be the lack of sleep playing with her instincts. She should be digging into the files rather than letting her mind wander.

  Just as she reached for them, a tall, ruggedly handsome man with sandy brown hair walked into her office without being announced. Chuck, her once rival turned stepbrother. She and her family hadn’t seen much of Chuck lately, since he and his wife had been having marital troubles. During Jack Steele’s recovery from surgery, they’d all been so overwhelmed, they’d had to recruit the younger Mikkelson brother—Trystan—to be the face of the blending companies at a major fund-raiser. It had required one helluva media and mouth makeover to get the volatile, outspoken, rugged rancher camera ready.

  Of course, Trystan’s attraction to the media consultant had provided a hefty motivation to succeed. Now they were engaged and expected a baby.

  Chuck was back at the helm now, though. And early for this meeting, to boot. A sinking feeling tightened her chest. She hadn’t even had the opportunity to crack open the paperwork and skim. Too late now, however. She would have to wing it.

  Naomi stepped from behind the desk. “So, hello...stepbrother. How crazy is that?”

  “Completely.” He set his briefcase on the coffee table between the two sofas, looking professional as always, but also like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I think it’s going to take us all a while to get used to this unlikely blended family. Everyone sends their best on the babies’ safe arrival.”

  “Blessings doubled and troubles shared. Thank you for all the flowers and the hospital visit.” Office talk could wait for a moment. She’d deposed enough witnesses to know that things went smoother when they were at ease. She went to the wet bar and tapped the carafe. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you,” he said. “Although I’m not so sure I’ve done my share with helping.”

  “Trystan and his image consultant pulled off a top-notch coup at the Wilderness Preservation fund-raiser.”

  “Surprised us all, quite frankly. I knew he could do it, but he exceeded expectations.”

  Trystan had a reputation for being brusque and antisocial. He’d been adopted by the Mikkelson family—a cousin with a rocky start in life.

  “Together, we’ll all make this happen. Thank you for being flexible about the time today. I, um, realize your plate’s full. I’m sorry about the trouble you and Shana have been having...” Naomi paused, setting aside the carafe. “I hope that was okay to say. I didn’t mean to get too personal.”

  “Everyone knows we’ve been struggling and how much time I’ve had to take off work.” He took the china cup without adding cream or sugar.

  She certainly understood the hardships a rocky relationship brought to every other aspect of life.

  “If there’s something I can do to help, let me know. Even if you just need a sympathetic ear.” She poured herself a glass of sparkling water and sat on one of the sofas, bright light pouring in the huge wall of windows beside them.

  “Unless you can change the past, I’m afraid not.” Sitting across from her, he blew into his coffee before taking a hefty swallow.

  “I heard she had a difficult time with her father.” Vague details, but enough to make Naomi so grateful for her own steady dad. Jack Steele had been a rock for his children, even when suffering from a deep grief over losing his wife and one of his kids.

  “That’s putting it mildly.” Chuck stared down into his cup of java. “I’m sure you’ll hear eventually, now that our families are so tangled up. When Shana was a teenager, she found out that her ‘hero’ dad was a fraud. He wasn’t some undercover detective. He was a rent-a-cop who had a second family tucked away a couple of counties over.”

  “Ohmigod, that’s...awful.” She’d heard about Shana’s father walking out on his family, but not a whisper about this level of betrayal. And for some reason this was prevalent in Chuck’s mind right now. Naomi stayed silent, letting him decide if he wanted to tell more or shift to work.

  “Cheating is bad enough, but he deliberately posed as husband-and-wife with the other woman. Poured out his inheritance on her and her children at the expense of his own—not to mention the time he chose to be away from his own kids.”

  “Shana must have been crushed. I can’t imagine what kind of person would do that to his own child.”

  Chuck forked his hand through his hair, a trace of anger sparking in his eyes. “A raging narcissist who’s only interested in looking good in front of others, who feeds off emotions. It’s all about manipulating life to what serves him best. That has made it difficult for Shana to trust.”

  “Her father’s still alive?” Naomi rubbed her arms, goose bumps rising. She couldn’t imagine hurting her children that way.

  “He lives down in San Diego with his new wife, in a house on the beach that was bought with all the money he funneled into her name.” Chuck held up a hand. “I’m sorry for unloading all of this on you. It’s just fresh on my mind, since we heard from the guy yesterday.”

  The legal eagle part of her wanted to find a way to nail the guy, to get justice for Shana. “Um, what stops you from—”

  “Killing him for crushing my wife?” he asked tightly. “For destroying her mother? For being the lowest form of scum on the earth?” His jaw went tight. “I get by knowing that karma will nail him. Knowing he lost amazing people in his life and he’s now with a person who thought nothing of living a lie and destroying a family.” Shrugging, he smiled. “And I don’t want to go to jail.”

  She laughed softly. “There is tha
t.”

  “Yeah, seriously, though, Shana says attention is what he craves, so she ignores him. He pops his head up for air every now and again to try to stir things up.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry he hurt my wife, that he has made it so difficult for her to trust. She deserves good things in life.” Chuck reached for his china cup on the coffee table.

  “Trust...” Naomi shook her head. “I wrestle with that and I haven’t faced near what she did. I know my family loves me.”

  “You lost your mother and sister. You’ve battled cancer. You’ve had your fair share of kicks from life. It’s not a game of whose pain is worse. Pain is pain.” He cricked his neck from side to side, his face going neutral, as if he’d placed all that anger into a box and sealed it shut. “We should get to work.”

  “Of course, you’re right. I’m sorry for prying.”

  He waved dismissively. “You weren’t. You’re just good at asking questions and listening.” His eyes narrowed wryly. “I imagine it comes with your job.”

  “I’m no expert at relationships. I think in listening to how other people sort through things, I’m trying to find answers for my own life.” She nudged the files on the coffee table toward him. “So, back to work. I haven’t had a chance to look over these numbers from Glenna and Broderick. How about you tell me your take on things before I do.”

  Royce’s ecological innovations put every other version of oil production to shame. They could not and would not risk the wilderness they loved so much. Now there was the teeny-tiny matter of making Royce’s design financially feasible.

  Chuck reached for his briefcase. “There’s no way around it. The numbers just don’t work.”

  * * *

  Finally, he had some much needed solitude to lose himself in business, and yet he was still tense as hell.

  Royce drummed his fingers next to his computer on the teak desk, his dog napping at his feet. He’d taken time off, but his work was about more than clocking in hours for a paycheck. His occupation as a research scientist was a calling for him, a way of life to protect the future for children like Anna and Mary.