Having Her Boss's Baby

by Maureen Child

  “Oh, aye, it does. You’re a rich man. I wouldn’t know how to live in your world, and you’ve no clue about mine.” She tugged her arm free of him and started walking faster. “Our son will be just fine without his parents being married.”

  “No, he won’t.” Brady pulled her to a stop beneath one of the oak trees and whirled her around until her back was to the gnarled trunk. Dappled shade danced across her features and shone in the eyes that were narrowed on him. “You think times have changed. It’s no big deal for a kid to have no father. Well, they haven’t changed that much. And my kid’s not going to suffer because his parents couldn’t get along.”

  “And marriage between two people who don’t want it is better?” she asked.

  “We don’t have to live together.” He braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned in. He’d thought this through and knew this was the answer. “We’ll be married and stay married until after our child is born.”

  “And then what? A divorce?” Shaking her head, she said, “This must be the first proposal in history that comes with a plan for ending the marriage before it begins. You want to marry me, just not live with me, is that it?”

  “I want my son to know that his parents were married.”

  “However briefly, then?”

  “Look I’m no good at the day-to-day relationship thing, but that’s my son you’re carrying, and he’s going to know that I cared enough about him to marry his mother.”

  “How do you know you’re no good at it?” she asked.

  “You can’t live what you don’t know. Anyway, that’s the deal,” he said shortly, stuffing both hands into his pockets.

  “Well, isn’t that the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

  He stalked away from her and then back again, demanding, “Who’s talking about romance?”

  This wasn’t about love and happily-ever-after, Brady told himself. This was about making sure she and their baby were safe. His son would have his name, and even if he and Aine didn’t live together, the child would know his father cared.

  “Not you,” she said flatly.

  “Aine, let me do this. For you. For our baby.” He’d never asked anyone for anything before, and the words didn’t come easily. “It’s important to me that you and our son be safe.”

  “Of course he’ll be safe. Brady...” She reached up to cup his cheek, and her touch was so warm, so tender, it shook him right down to the soles of his feet. “What drives you so? What keeps you from wanting to be a part of something? What makes you propose with the promise of an ending rather than a beginning?”

  He stepped back because having her touch him was both a blessing and a curse. He couldn’t think with her hand on him. Could hardly breathe without her touch. Staring into green eyes looking up at him anxiously, he felt himself bend. Felt himself need, and he fought it back.

  There was nothing he wanted more than to pick her up, carry her into the castle and stretch her out on a bed. He wanted his hands on her, wanted to explore her new curves, caress the mound of his child and hold her tightly enough that the ache inside him eased.

  But if he was with her again, he’d never let her go. He knew that now, and he had to let her go. For everyone’s sake. So Brady pushed his own wants aside, burying them beneath the layers of secrets he was already hoarding. And he tried to make her understand.

  “Your family’s great,” he said with a quick look at the cottage. “You grew up with that, so you know how to create it on your own. I don’t. And so I don’t try because I won’t risk failing.”

  “You’re talking in riddles. Tell me what it is that’s tearing at you.”

  He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  * * *

  Brady’s campaign to win Aine over was relentless.

  For the next few days, everywhere she turned, there he was. He kept his hand at her back when they walked together, made sure she sat down and put her feet up in the afternoon and helped her with the castle’s books.

  He had tea with her every afternoon, and in the evenings, he insisted on being with her, tempting her too much with the needs and wishes that clamored in her heart. Aine felt as though she was under siege by a gentle warrior determined to win the war with stubborn, relentless attention.

  Her body was on fire and there was no relief in sight. He didn’t try to make love to her again, and Aine wanted him more every day. Was he intentionally punishing her—and himself—for her turning down his plan of marriage and divorce? But what kind of thing was that for a man to offer? Did he not see that by giving her the vow to end the marriage, he was also giving her a reason to never accept the marriage? How could she when she knew the man was only biding his time before he disappeared from her life again?

  He went into the village with her to run errands, and everywhere they went, he introduced himself as her fiancé and invited all of the villagers to a wedding that wasn’t going to happen. He took over most of her jobs, seeing to the supplies being ordered, the work being done, and even had the makers of the roof tiles complying and promising delivery within the week—which was just infuriating.

  He spent time with Robbie, showing the boy the ins and outs of building a video game from the ground up. Then he would spend hours with the boy, playing “Fate Castle” on Robbie’s old television.

  Molly couldn’t say enough about Brady, who fixed a leaky pipe for her, then repaired a broken cabinet hinge. He was winning over her family, her friends—even the workmen at the castle sang his praises.

  And every day, Brady proposed to Aine again, leaving her shaken and wishing that he actually loved her and really meant to live with her and make that family she wanted so badly. But she knew it was a lie. She knew it was only his sense of duty that kept him there and her heart hurt with the knowledge.

  Even Brian, her accountant, had promised her forever until she’d ended their engagement. And now the man she truly loved body and soul promised her a beginning and an ending in the same proposal.

  She buried the longing, the misery, in working on the hotel’s books and planning for the grand reopening. In her office off the main lobby, Aine studied the computer screen and tried to push thoughts of Brady out of her mind. She emailed their website manager and arranged for him to send out email announcements about the changes happening at Castle Butler.

  Then they set up a plan to run a web contest, with the grand prize being an all-expenses-paid one-week stay at Fate Castle. Brady and the Ryans had already agreed to it, and Aine thought it was a wonderful way to generate interest in the new hotel.

  While the sound of work went on around her, Aine buried her personal miseries in her job, and after a couple of hours thought she was feeling better. All she had to do was stand strong against Brady’s ridiculous notion of being married only to divorce. Soon enough, he’d tire of the challenge of wearing her down and go back to his life, allowing her to return to her own.

  Without him.

  Oh, the thought of that made her ache to her soul. Being with him again was so hard, knowing that she would lose him a second—and no doubt last—time.

  When her phone rang, she grabbed it up, grateful to be drawn out of her own thoughts. “Hello?”

  “Aine, come to the cottage,” her mother said, voice breathless. “You must see this!”

  Before Aine could ask what was wrong, what was happening, Molly hung up. Aine was out the door a moment later, hurrying across the grounds to the guest cottage.

  There were three men on the cottage roof, replacing old, worn shingles with new. There were four more men on the outside of the stone cottage, who were busily painting the stones a soft cream color. What was going on?

  Her mother met her on the front steps and waved excitedly. “Come in, come in!” She took Aine’s hand when she was close enough and dragged h
er into the cottage. “Isn’t it wonderful? Brady said I wasn’t to worry about a leaking roof anymore and before I knew it, he had men on the roof fixing the whole thing. And painters, as well. Isn’t it a lovely color?”

  Molly’s cheeks were flushed and a wide grin split her face and danced in her eyes as she handed Aine a manila envelope. “And then this happened!”

  Aine opened it, pulled out a sheaf of papers and skimmed them. Then she read it all again, more slowly, then checked the back page and saw Brady’s signature. She lifted her gaze to her mother’s. “He’s signed over the cottage to you.”

  Tears pooled in Molly’s eyes, spilled over and were wiped away again. “He’s a darling man, Aine. The note he sent with the papers said he wanted us to have the home we love. Isn’t he a darling man?”

  “Darling,” Aine whispered, stunned nearly speechless. She couldn’t believe he’d done something so kind for her mother. Now Molly would never again worry about making a rent payment, and the small house she’d called home for years was really hers.

  “I was never so surprised. I had palpitations when I looked at those papers, I can tell you. But the dear man wasn’t finished.” She tugged her daughter back to the kitchen. “Look, will you just look at this!”

  There was a shiny new cherry-red Aga stove installed in the space where Molly’s ancient cooker had been only that morning. And in the corner stood a cherry-red refrigerator, shining and new and making hardly a sound louder than a purr of perfection.

  “Isn’t it grand?” Molly ran one hand across the stove top, then tsked at the fingerprints left behind. Quickly, she grabbed a cloth and rubbed the surface shiny again. “I’ve never in my life had such a stove as this. And the refrigerator, Aine! So big, so quiet...” She sighed happily. “And he bought them in red, the dear man, as he must have noticed how I love the color.”

  Clutching her dish towel in one hand, Molly plopped down onto a kitchen chair and looked around her in astonishment. “It’s too much by far, but to know that our home is now really ours... Well, it’s a gift beyond price is what it is.”

  Aine couldn’t speak. All she could do was watch her mother’s excited features as she sighed happily over what had happened. Brady had done this without a word to Aine. He’d seen the shape of things in the cottage and had gone out of his way to fix them. A new roof, fresh paint and then this—he’d transformed the heart of Molly’s home. And buying red, of all things. He’d noticed the red cabinets in the kitchen and had guessed, rightly, that her mother would love the bright and shiny color.

  But far more than that, he’d given her mother security. A life without worry. Aine’s heart gave a twist and she felt the sting of tears burn her eyes.

  “And that’s not all.” Molly pushed out of the chair as if she couldn’t sit still. “He’s sent a grand new television for Robbie and a new game machine, as well. Oh, and something he said is an art program that all young designers should have. When the boy gets home from school, he’ll be beside himself.”

  “Why?” Aine whispered. “Why is he doing this?”

  “Darling, can’t you see why?” Molly cupped Aine’s face in her palms and said, “He loves you, darling girl. He’s no idea what to do about it, though, so he does this instead. He’s showing you without words what you mean to him.”

  Aine would like nothing more than to believe that, but how could she? He’d sent her away, hadn’t he? He’d as much as told her he wasn’t interested. He’d proposed, but had also planned a divorce. Did a man in love do that?

  “You’re wrong, Mum,” she finally said sadly. “It’s only that he’s a rich man, and when he finds a problem, it’s his way to throw money at it.”

  “He didn’t need to throw it at us,” her mother said. “He did all of this for you.”

  Was her mother right? Did Brady love her? And if he did, why wouldn’t he tell her? It was time, Aine told herself, to get some answers.

  Ten

  She found Brady in the back of the castle, near the maze. He turned when she came toward him and asked, “Do we really need this maze? Takes up a lot of room and—”

  Aine walked right up to him, cupped his face in her palms and went up on her toes to kiss him. The taste of him after so long was soul stirring. Here was what she wanted, needed. Here was love so rich and thick it filled her, body and soul.

  She felt his surprise, then his surrender as he fisted his hands at her back and pulled her in tight and close. Pressed against him, she felt the solid thump of his heartbeat, felt the hard strength of him, and knew she didn’t want to live the rest of her life without him.

  He deepened the kiss and Aine parted her lips for his tongue to sweep along hers, stealing her breath, making her heartbeat gallop and her knees weak. Brady Finn was in her heart and mind, and she needed him to know that. A cold wind whipped around them, binding them closer as watery sunlight filtered through clouds thick and gray. She let go of everything but the moment and gave herself up to the rush of emotions crowding through her.

  When he finally raised his head and looked down at her, he gave her a half smile. “What was that for?”

  “I’ve been talking with my mother.”

  “Ah...” His eyes cooled, and a wall she was too familiar with came up between them, effectively shutting her out. He stepped back, leaving her feeling alone, adrift. Turning to look at the maze again, he said only, “Well, you’re welcome.”

  She wouldn’t let either of them back away this time, though. This was too important. Too real not to acknowledge. Aine was determined to tell him how she felt and demand that he admit the same.

  “That kiss wasn’t only a thank-you,” she said softly, walking around until she stood in front of him again and he was forced to look at her. He needed to know the whole truth and it was long past time she allowed herself to say the three words that meant everything. “It was also an ‘I love you.’”

  She saw his eyes flash then darken and go cool again, all in the span of a single heartbeat. His features went hard and detached, so she tried again. “Brady. I said I love you.”

  “I heard you.” He stepped around her, again focusing on the bloody maze that Aine couldn’t care about at the moment. “But you don’t mean it. You’re grateful, that’s all. Now about the maze...”

  “Devil take the blasted maze,” she muttered. “And don’t tell me what I feel or I don’t. ’Tis insulting.”

  “Then, don’t confuse love with gratitude,” he snapped, sparing her only a quick look before focusing on the maze again. “If we tore this down...”

  She huffed out a furious breath and said, “We’ll not tear the maze down.” Irritated that the first time she told him she loved him, he couldn’t be bothered to believe her. And it was clear he wouldn’t listen to her until they’d gotten the maze issue dealt with. “It was laid out by Lord Butler’s great-granddaughter in 1565. ’Tis as much a part of the castle as the stone walls and battlements. All it needs is a bit of tending.” She shot the raggedy bushes a hard look. “A good gardener will have it looking as it should in no time. Then maybe your gamer people can hunt werewolves in it.” She waved a negligent hand. “Or we’ll have prizes in the center of the maze for those who find their way in and out again.”

  “Hmm...not a bad idea,” he said, and walked into the maze, quickly disappearing behind the high thick boxwood hedges.

  Aine swallowed the bubble of temper threatening to spew and ruin the lovely romantic moment she’d planned. Why was the man so resolved to ignore what she was trying to tell him? With pride pushing her on and love clawing at her heart, she went after him, and when she caught up, she took a grip on his forearm and turned him to her. “You tell me why you don’t believe I love you.”

  He looked at her and his eyes were as dark as the clouds rushing in from the sea. The wind sharpened, and even with the protection o
f the hedges surrounding them, she felt the chill it brought. But the cold she saw in his eyes went deeper than a harsh sea gust. Worry curled in the pit of her stomach, but she stood her ground, refusing to let him walk away this time. Seconds fell into minutes and those, too, crawled past as she waited. Just when she thought he would never answer her, he did.

  “Because no one ever has,” he muttered thickly before scrubbing one hand across his mouth as if he could wipe away the taste of the words.

  She’d no idea what to make of that, but Aine could see what the words had cost him. Then he laughed shortly, and she winced at the pain in the sound of it.

  “Brady,” she said, sliding her hand along his forearm in a gesture meant to be comforting. “Talk to me. Tell me what it is that haunts you so.”

  He looked down at her hand, then lifted his gaze to hers. When he started speaking, his voice was low and strained. “You’re always saying we’re too different. Well, you’re right, but not for the reasons you think.” He moved in on her, backed her up against the maze hedge and loomed over her, his gaze sweeping her features as if carving them into his memory. “You want to know why I won’t stay married and build a family? Because I’ve never had one. Never known one.” He took a breath and released it. “When I was six years old, my mother dumped me on the state and left. Never saw her again.” Old anger, old pain, glittered in his eyes like dark water in moonlight. “Who the hell knows who my father was? I went into the system. They shuttled me from home to home, with me carting my stuff around in paper sacks like trash.” He eased back from her, putting at least a few inches between them. Almost as if he couldn’t bear to be close to her when reliving his past.

  Aine didn’t know what to say, how to help, so she stayed quiet and listened, her heart breaking.

  “From six to thirteen, I was in five different foster homes. None of ’em worked. None of ’em wanted me to stay.” He swallowed hard. “After that, I didn’t try anymore. Just lived at the home, went to school and bided my time until I could get out on my own.”