by Heidi Betts
He paid her well enough to care for every child who passed through the gates of Disneyland on a daily basis, but understood her point. Until today he “didn’t do babies,” either.
Maybe that’s why all of the people in his employ were less willing to volunteer for child-care duty than he was. Having an aversion to infants himself, he’d apparently hired staff who felt the same.
Which had worked perfectly well up to now. Suddenly, though, he wished he’d surrounded himself with more of the ticking-biological-clock types. A few women who couldn’t wait to take a crying baby off his hands and work whatever natural magic they possessed to restore peace and quiet to his universe.
Before running out for a few more things he thought he might need before morning, Mrs. Sheppard had at least helped him stumble his way through his first diaper change and bottle preparation. He’d gotten the baby—Henry…the child’s name was Henry, so he’d better start remembering it—fed and thought he was in the clear.
Still in the little rocking seat with the handle that made for easier toting around, the baby had started to drift off, eyes growing heavy as his tiny mouth tugged at the bottle’s nipple like…well, like something he had no business thinking in the presence of an infant. Especially if that infant turned out to be his son and the image in his head was of the child’s mother.
And then, just a few minutes after he’d emptied the bottle of formula, Baby Henry had jerked awake and started screaming at the top of his lungs. Alex had rocked the baby seat…shushed him in a voice he’d never used before in his life…and tried every trick he could think of—which weren’t many, he was frustrated to realize.
Finally, having run out of options, he’d lifted the child from the padded seat and tucked him against his chest.
Surprised by his own actions, he’d begun patting the baby’s back and bouncing slightly as he crossed the room. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in an effort to soothe the bawling child.
He didn’t know where any of this came from, but it seemed the natural thing to do. Not that it was working. The baby was sobbing so hard, his little chest was heaving and his breaths were coming in hiccuping gasps.
If this lasted much longer, Alex was going to dial 9-1-1. It was the only option he could think of, given that he had no nanny and no personal knowledge of child rearing. Especially if it meant the difference between being thought a fool for overreacting or letting the poor kid suffocate on his own tears.
He was headed for the phone, intent on doing just that, when the doorbell rang. Halting in his tracks, he took a second to wonder who it could be at this hour—he wasn’t expecting anyone except Mrs. Sheppard, and she had her own key—before Henry gave another hitching sob, driving him to action. Whoever it was, he hoped to hell they knew something, anything about babies.
Please, God, let this be Mary Poppins, he thought as he stalked out of his office and across the gleaming parquet foyer.
Yanking the door open, he jerked to a stop, shock reverberating through his system.
The person standing on the other side of the threshold was better than Mary Poppins…it was the baby’s mother.
Jessica.
Eight
Jessica’s heart was pounding like the bass of a hard rock ballad in her chest, tears pouring down her face. Coming here hadn’t been part of the plan. And the last thing she’d intended was to knock on the front door.
But she couldn’t stand it anymore. Henry’s sobs were tearing her apart, causing a deep, throbbing physical pain that couldn’t be ignored one second longer.
She’d been crying since she’d sneaked into Alex’s office and left her sweet little baby on his boardroom table. No choice, nowhere else to turn.
She’d done everything she could on her own, and finally realized that turning Henry over to his father was the only option left unless she wanted to raise her child in a homeless shelter.
But doing the right thing, the only thing, didn’t mean she could just walk away. She’d left Henry with a note for Alex to discover, praying he would believe her words and accept the baby as his son. That he would love and care for him the way their son deserved.
Then she’d sneaked back out of the building, but had stood across the street, waiting and watching. And crying. Crying so hard, she’d been afraid of attracting unwanted attention.
When she’d spotted Alex coming out of the building to meet his car at the curb, baby carrier balanced at his hip, her pulse had spiked. She’d taken it as a good sign, though, that he’d had the baby with him. And that he hadn’t called the police to turn her in as an unfit mother, as well as for child abandonment.
She hadn’t known where he was going, though, and suddenly she’d needed to know. Not that she could afford to hail a cab, and she’d sold her own car months ago.
With no other options, she’d taken a chance, using public transportation, then walking the rest of the way to Alex’s estate. A gorgeous, sprawling sandstone mansion on fifteen private, perfectly landscaped acres in an area she was well familiar with from her own time living in Seattle.
It was also gated, but she’d lucked out—huffing and puffing from the uphill climb, she’d reached the entrance to Alex’s property just as someone else had been leaving. The car had pulled out, turning onto the main road, and Jessica had slipped through the iron gate as it was slowly swinging closed.
Then she’d rounded the house, looking in every window she could reach until she’d spotted Alex and Henry. Heart in her throat, she’d used a less-than-sturdy hedge as a stepping stool, standing on tiptoe to watch. Just…watch.
She’d wanted so badly to go inside and hold her baby. To take him back and tell Alex it had all been a horrible mistake. But even if she had…even if it was…her circumstances would be exactly the same.
No choice. She had no choice.
It was when Henry had started crying—sobbing, really—and had refused to be calmed, that she couldn’t stand it any longer. She wanted her baby, and he obviously needed her.
So here she stood, face-to-face with the one man she’d had no intention of ever being face-to-face with again.
She didn’t know what to say to him, so she didn’t mince words. “Give him to me,” she said, plucking the baby out of his grasp.
She wasn’t the least bit familiar with the layout of the house, but she didn’t particularly care. Moving across the foyer, she headed in the direction she thought would take her to Alex’s spacious office den. The one she’d been hiding outside of for the past half hour, spying on her child and ex-lover.
Pulling off her knit cap and shrugging out of her jacket—one arm at a time while balancing Henry in the other—she tossed them aside, bringing the baby even closer to her chest, tucking him in and crooning. From the moment he heard her voice, he began to relax.
It took what seemed like forever for his cries to die down, but she continued to sway, hum, pat him on the back. She whispered in his ear, telling him in a low, singsong voice how much she loved him, how sorry she was for leaving, and that everything would be okay. She wasn’t sure she believed it, but she promised all the same.
A long time later, his tiny body stopped shuddering and she knew he was sleeping, his face turned in to her neck, his warm breath fanning her skin.
It was the most amazing sensation, one she hadn’t thought she’d get to experience again anytime soon…if ever. Her own chest grew tight, moisture gathering behind her closed eyelids.
As much as she was trying to absorb every precious moment, she knew she was also stalling. Because Alex was standing behind her. Watching and waiting and likely fuming with fury.
She couldn’t hide behind the baby forever, though. Time to pay the piper.
On a sigh, followed by a deep, fortifying breath, Jessica turned.
She’d been right. Alex was standing only a few feet away, arms crossed, blue eyes as cold as a glacier glaring at her. That look cut through her, chilling her to the bone.
Swallo
wing hard, she kept her voice low to avoid waking the baby, hoping Alex would take the hint and do the same.
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I shouldn’t have abandoned him like that.”
Abandoned. God, that made her sound like such a bad mother. But it was the truth, wasn’t it?
She expected him to jump on that, throw all kinds of nasty accusations at her—though in a subdued tone, she hoped.
Instead, he pinned her in place with a sharp, angry stare. “Is he mine?”
“Yes,” she answered simply. Honestly. “His middle name is Alexander, for you. Henry was my grandfather’s name.”
Without responding to that bit of information, he asked, “Are you willing to take a blood test to prove it?”
It hurt to have him ask, but she wasn’t surprised. She’d lied to him—so many times, about so much…things he didn’t even know about yet, let alone the things he did.
“Yes,” she murmured again.
That seemed to give him pause. Had he expected her to refuse?
She wasn’t exactly perched soundly on the higher ground, here. She had no room to complain and no right to be offended. If there were hoops he wanted her to jump through, and punishments he wanted to dole out, she had no choice but to acquiesce.
“I’ll make an appointment first thing in the morning.”
She nodded, though she knew he neither needed nor was waiting for her to agree.
“You’ll stay here tonight,” he continued, his tone brooking no argument. “In fact, you’ll stay here until I know what’s going on and have decided what to do about it.”
As uncomfortable a prospect as that was, she was oddly okay with it. It wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to go. Even after leaving Henry at Alex’s office, her only plan had been to look for work here in Seattle or catch a bus back to Portland and try to find something there, but she suspected she probably would have ended up sleeping in the bus terminal instead. Provided Alex didn’t intend to lock her in a dungeon somewhere in this giant house of his, it might be nice to sleep in a real bed for a change.
When she offered no resistance to his demands, he tipped his head and moved toward the door. “Follow me.” He didn’t look back, assuming—or rather, knowing—she would do exactly as he said.
Still holding a sleeping Henry, she trailed him out of the office, across the cavernous foyer and up a wide, carpeted stairwell to the second floor. He led her down a long hallway lined with what she could only assume was priceless artwork and credenzas topped with fresh-cut flowers in crystal and Ming-style vases.
Stopping suddenly, he pushed open one of the doors and stood aside for her to pass. It was a beautiful, professionally decorated guest room, complete with queen-size four-poster canopy bed and private bath. Done in varying shades of sage-green, it was unisex; not too masculine or too feminine.
“If you try to leave,” Alex said from behind her, “I’ll stop you. If you try to take my child from me—if he really is my child—I’ll have both the police and my attorneys on you faster than you can blink.”
She had no doubt he was rich enough, powerful enough and bitter enough to carry through with the threat. While she was broke, powerless and too exhausted to walk much farther, let alone attempt to run away.
Turning to face him, she continued to rub the baby’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, Alex. I handled this badly, and for that, I apologize. This isn’t how you should have found out you’re a father. So whatever you need me to do…within reason,” she added with a raised brow, “well, I figure I owe you one.”
His raised brow told her he thought she owed him more than just one. And maybe he was right. But her response seemed to reassure him. Some of the tension went out of his shoulders and the lines bracketing his mouth lessened a fraction.
“Tell me what you need for him.”
His eyes darted to Henry and she thought she saw a hint of softness there. Although she might have imagined it.
She had next to nothing. By the time she’d decided leaving Henry with Alex was her last resort, she’d been out of formula and down to her last diaper. If she hadn’t, she probably wouldn’t have been able to go through with it.
She could have gone to her parents, but that was still a can of worms she was trying to avoid opening. And the guilt of not alerting Alex to the fact that he was a father had started to eat at her, so she’d decided that he was a better “last resort.”
“Everything,” she said dejectedly.
“Make a list,” he told her. “My housekeeper is picking up a few things right now. I’ll try to catch her and have her get whatever else you need while she’s out.”
Jessica nodded, expecting him to go…unless he intended to pull up a chair and stand guard at the door all night. Instead, he remained rooted to the spot, his features drawn in contemplation.
“Will this be all right for him?” he finally asked. His arms swept out to encompass the room. “I don’t have a crib or anything else…nursery-ish.”
She offered a small smile. As angry as he was, he was still concerned about his son’s safety and comfort. She found that endearing. And it gave her hope that his resentment would one day give way to understanding.
“We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Henry can sleep in the bed with me, and I’ll use pillows around the edges to keep him from rolling off.”
He considered that for a moment, then said, “I’ll make arrangements for someone to come by tomorrow and baby proof the place. Make a list for that, too—whatever you and Henry will need for an extended stay, and whatever needs to be done to keep him safe.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. How extended a stay did he have in mind?
But now wasn’t the time to question him. She was on thin enough ice as it was.
“We still have to talk,” he informed her. “But you look tired, and I know he is. It can wait until tomorrow.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Jessica let out a breath, wishing it was one of relief. Instead, it was only…a short reprieve. As she set about readying the room, herself and the baby for bed, she felt as though a noose was hanging over her head.
Because as bad as today had been…tomorrow promised to be even worse.
* * *
Jessica didn’t know what time it was when she finally came awake the next morning. Henry had had her up a few times during the night, needing to be changed or fed or simply lulled back to sleep. But she suspected yesterday’s stress level had impacted him, as well, because he’d slept like a stone the rest of the time.
Stretching, she glanced beside her to find him awake and smiling around the pacifier in his mouth. His legs were kicking, and when he saw her looking down at him, he waved his arms, too.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted him, unable to resist leaning over and kissing his soft cheek. He made a happy sound from deep in his belly, and she took a minute to blow raspberries on his tummy through his thin cotton T-shirt until he giggled.
Laughing in return, she scooped him up and finally looked at the clock. Ten-thirty. Later than she normally woke, but not quite as late as she’d expected, given the bright sunlight peeking through the drawn floor-to-ceiling curtains. As she started moving around, using the restroom and changing the baby, she heard noises from outside the bedroom door.
Last night, before she’d gone to bed, Alex’s housekeeper had arrived with several large fabric totes bulging with baby items. Formula, bottles, pacifiers, toys, onesies, baby lotion, baby shampoo, baby powder…everything. More than Jessica would need to get through just the next few days. And now it sounded as though Alex had a construction crew in the house, building a nursery—or possibly an entire day care center—to his exact specifications.
With Henry at her hip, she opened the door only to find the hallway filled with oversize boxes and shopping bags. She stood rooted to the spot for a minute, stunned and confused.
Noise
s were coming from next door, and before she could decide which direction to turn—left toward the sounds of the pounding or right toward the stairs—Alex appeared. He strolled down the hall with two men on his heels who were carrying a large, flat cardboard box between them.
“In there,” Alex instructed, pointing to the room where all the building noises were coming from. He waited for them to pass, then waved her ahead of him.
They paused in the doorway of the room beside hers, where several men were busy putting furniture together and attaching shelving to the walls.
“What’s all this?” she asked, though she could certainly guess. The half-assembled crib and changing table in the corner were dead giveaways.
“I’m putting a nursery in between our two rooms. That way we’ll both be close to the baby in case he needs us during the night.”
Jessica swallowed, not quite sure how to respond. Should she be more concerned that Alex’s room was apparently only two doors down from where she’d spent last night…or that he seemed to believe she and Henry would be here long enough for a separate nursery to be necessary?
She owed him answers, and, of course, knew that he would want to spend time with his son now that he was aware of Henry’s existence, but that didn’t mean she—or the baby—were going to stick around forever.
Before she could decide how to respond, he continued.
“I’ve called Practically Perfect Au Pairs, the premiere nanny agency in the city. They’ll be sending potential nannies out over the next few days to be interviewed. You can be there, if you like.”
This time she wasn’t at a loss for words. Her spine went straight and tight as outrage coursed through her system.
“Henry doesn’t need a nanny. I’m his mother. I can care for him just fine by myself.”
“As evidenced by the fact that you left him in the boardroom of my office building, with a note begging me to take him in,” he replied, deadpan.
Jessica’s chest squeezed. He was right, and they both knew it. But she’d changed her mind. She was here now, and damned if she’d let him foist her child off on some complete stranger.
