by Heidi Betts
One Glance From Those
Moss-Green Eyes And Her Body Had Gone Soft And Pliant.
Spending a short amount of time with Marcus while she’d shown him around the bakery had been…not horrible. If it hadn’t been for the secret Vanessa was hiding just one floor above, she might even have gotten him that cup of coffee and invited him to stay a while longer.
Which was a really bad idea, so it was better that he’d taken off when he had.
She had Danny pressed to her chest, content now that his belly was being filled, when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. There was no time to jump up and hide the baby, no time to yell for Aunt Helen to run interference. One minute she was glancing around for a blanket to cover her exposed chest, and the next she was frozen in place, staring with alarm at her stunned but furious ex-husband.
Dear Reader,
I had such a good time with Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir, especially since Marc and Vanessa’s story is set mainly in a bakery. Writing about all the delicious goodies Vanessa and her aunt were baking up made me hungry for every single one.
So I thought it might be fun to share one of those very special recipes with you. (It’s one of my personal favorites.) Turn to page six for details. And if you get the chance to try it, please drop me a line to let me know what you think!
I hope you enjoy Marc and Vanessa’s story and the cookies! They’re excellent with a glass of cold milk, by the way.
All my best,
Heidi Betts
www.HeidiBetts.com
HEIDI BETTS
HER LITTLE SECRET, HIS HIDDEN HEIR
For my wonderful new Desire editor, Charles Griemsman.
It’s been a delight working with and getting to know you this past year, and I’m looking forward to sharing many more “Desire-able” moments in the future.
Books by Heidi Betts
Desire
Bought by a Millionaire #1638
Blame it on the Blackout #1662
When the Lights Go Down #1686
Seven-Year Seduction #1709
Mr. and Mistress #1723
Bedded Then Wed #1761
Blackmailed into Bed #1779
Fortune’s Forbidden Woman #1801
Christmas in His Royal Bed #1833
Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby #2055
Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir #2091
HEIDI BETTS
An avid romance reader since junior high, national bestselling author Heidi Betts knew early on that she wanted to write these wonderful stories of love and adventure. It wasn’t until her freshman year of college, however, when she spent the entire night before finals reading a romance novel instead of studying, that she decided to take the road less traveled and follow her dream.
Soon after joining Romance Writers of America, Heidi’s writing began to garner attention, including placing in the esteemed Golden Heart competition three years in a row. The recipient of numerous awards and stellar reviews, Heidi’s books combine believable characters with compelling plotlines, and are consistently described as “delightful,” “sizzling” and “wonderfully witty.”
For news, fun and information about upcoming books, be sure to visit Heidi online at HeidiBetts.com.
CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER PINWHEELS
INGREDIENTS:
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 cup peanut butter (you can add more if you like your cookies really peanut buttery)
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
INGREDIENTS FOR FILLING:
2 cups (or one 12-ounce bag) chocolate chips
2 tablespoons butter
DIRECTIONS:
1. In large bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
2. Add peanut butter, egg and vanilla. Beat until smooth.
3. Add flour, baking soda and salt and mix until dough is formed. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
4. Make filling by melting chocolate chips and butter together in a slow cooker on lowest setting or in a double boiler.
5. Remove dough from refrigerator. Roll half of it into an 11 x 17 inch rectangle on a lightly floured surface.
6. Spread half of chocolate filling evenly over dough.
7. Roll tightly from long side. Wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate until firm—at least 8 hours or overnight.
8. Repeat with remaining dough and filling.
9. Cut into 1/8-inch slices and bake in 325°F oven for about 8 minutes or until lightly browned.
10. Remove to wire racks to cool.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Prologue
Vanessa Keller—soon to be simply Vanessa Mason again—sat at the foot of her hotel-room bed, staring at the small plastic wand in her hand. She blinked, feeling her heart pound, her stomach roll and her vision go fuzzy around the edges.
As bad luck went, this ranked right up there with having your plane go down on the way to your honeymoon destination or getting hit by a bus right after you’d won the million-dollar lotto.
And the irony of the situation…
A harsh laugh escaped her lungs, taking with it a puff of the stale air she’d been holding onto for the past several minutes.
She was newly divorced from a husband she’d thought was the man of her dreams, staying in a downtown Pittsburgh hotel because she didn’t know quite what to do with her life now that the rug had been yanked out from under her. And if that wasn’t enough to make her wonder where things had gone so wrong, now she was pregnant.
Pregnant. With her ex-husband’s child, when she hadn’t managed to conceive in the three years they’d been married, even though they’d tried…or at least hadn’t worked to prevent it.
What in heaven’s name was she going to do?
Pushing to her feet on less-than-steady legs, she crossed to the wide desk against the far wall and dropped into its cushioned chair. Her hands shook as she laid the small plastic stick on the flat surface and dragged the phone closer.
Taking deep, shuddering breaths, she told herself she could do this. Told herself it was the right thing to do, and however he reacted, she would handle it.
This was not a bid to get back together. Vanessa wasn’t sure she would want to, even with a baby now in the picture. But he deserved to know he was going to be a father, regardless of the current state of their relationship.
With cold fingers, she dialed the familiar number, knowing his assistant would answer. She’d never cared for Trevor Storch; he was a weaselly little brownnoser, treating her more as an annoyance than as the wife of the CEO of a multimillion-dollar company and his boss.
After only one ring, Trevor’s squeaky, singsong voice came on the line. “Keller Corporation, Marcus Keller’s office. How may I help you?”
“It’s Vanessa,” she said without preamble—he knew full well who she was. He was probably privy to more of the details about her marriage and subsequent divorce than he deserved to be, too. “I need to talk to Marc.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Mason, Mr. Keller isn’t available.”
<
br /> His use of her maiden name—not to mention calling her Miss—struck Vanessa’s heart like the tip of a knife. No doubt he’d done it deliberately.
“It’s important,” she said, not bothering to correct or argue with him. She’d done enough of that in the past, as well as overlooking his snide attitude just to keep the peace; she didn’t have to do it anymore, either.
“I’m sorry,” he told her again, “but Mr. Keller has instructed me to tell you that there’s nothing you could possibly have to say to him that he wants to hear. Good day.”
And with that, the line went dead, leaving Vanessa openmouthed with shock. If hearing herself called “Miss Mason” rather than “Mrs. Keller” felt like a knife tip being inserted into her heart, then being told her ex-husband wouldn’t even deign to speak with her any longer thrust the blade the rest of the way in to the hilt and twisted it sharply.
She’d known Marc was angry with her, knew they’d parted on less than friendly terms. But never in a million years would she have expected him to cut her off so callously.
He’d loved her once, hadn’t he? She’d certainly loved him. And yet they’d come to this—virtual strangers who couldn’t even speak a civil word to one another.
But that answered the question of what she was going to do. She was going to be a single mother, and without Marcus’s money and support—which she wouldn’t have taken, with or without the prenup—she’d better find a way to take care of herself and the baby—and she’d better do it fast.
One
One year later…
Marcus Keller flexed his fingers on the warm leather of the steering wheel, his sleek black Mercedes hugging the road as he took the narrow curves leading into Summerville faster than was probably wise.
The small Pennsylvania town was only three hours from his own home in Pittsburgh, but it might as well have been a world away. Where Pittsburgh was ninety percent concrete and city lights, Summerville was thick forests, green grass, quaint houses and a small downtown area that reminded Marcus of a modern version of Mayberry.
He slowed his speed, taking the time to examine the storefronts as he passed. A drug store, a post office, a bar and grill, a gift shop…and a bakery.
Lifting his foot from the gas, he slowed even more, studying the bright yellow awning and fancy black lettering declaring it to be The Sugar Shack…the red neon sign in the window letting customers know they were open…and the handful of people inside, enjoying freshly made baked goods.
It looked inviting, which was important in the food service industry. He was tempted to lower his window and see if he could actually smell the delicious scents of breads and cookies and pies in the air.
But there was more to running a successful business than a cute name and an attractive front window, and if he was going to put money into The Sugar Shack, he wanted to know it was a sound investment.
At the corner, he took a left and continued down a side street, following the directions he’d been given to reach the offices of Blake and Fetzer, Financial Advisors. He’d worked with Brian Blake before, though never on an investment this far from home or this close to Blake’s own offices. Still, the man had never steered him wrong, which made Marcus more willing to take time off work and make the long drive.
A few blocks down the street, he noticed a lone woman walking quickly on three-inch heels. Given the uneven pavement and pebbles littering the sidewalk, she wasn’t having an easy time of it. She also seemed distracted, rooting around inside an oversize handbag rather than keeping her attention on where she was going.
A niggle of something uncomfortable skated through his belly. She reminded him somehow of his ex-wife. A bit heavier and curvier, her coppery hair cut short instead of left to flow halfway down her back, but still very similar. Especially the way she walked and dressed. This woman was wearing a white blouse and a black skirt with a short slit at the back, framing a pair of long, lovely legs. No jacket and no clunky accessories, which followed Vanessa’s personal style to a T.
Shifting his gaze back to the road, he tamped down on whatever emotion had his chest going tight. Guilt? Regret? Simple sentimentality? He wasn’t sure and didn’t care to examine the unexpected feelings too closely.
They’d been divorced for over a year. Better to put it all behind him and move on, as he was sure Vanessa had done.
Spotting the offices of Blake and Fetzer, he pulled into the diminutive three-car lot at the back of the building, cut the engine and stepped out into the warm spring day. With any luck, this meeting and the subsequent tour of The Sugar Shack would only take a couple of hours, then he could be back on the road and headed home. Small town life might be fine for some people, but Marcus would be only too happy to get back to the hustle and bustle of the city and the life he’d made for himself there.
Vanessa stopped outside Brian Blake’s office, taking a moment to straighten her blouse and skirt, run a hand through her short-cropped hair and touch up her lipstick. It had been a long time since she’d gotten this dressed up and she was sorely out of practice.
It didn’t help, either, that all of the nicer clothes she’d acquired while being married to Marcus were now at least one size too small. That meant her top was a bit too snug across the chest, her skirt was a good inch shorter than she would have liked and darned if the waistband wasn’t cutting off her circulation.
Thankfully, the town of Summerville didn’t require her to dress up this much, even for Sunday services. Otherwise, she may have had to invest in a new wardrobe, and given what a hard time she was having just keeping her head above water and her business afloat, that was an added expense she definitely could not afford.
Deciding that her appearance was about as good as it was going to get at this late date, she took a deep breath and pushed through the door. Blake and Fetzer’s lone receptionist greeted her with a wide smile, informed her that Brian and the potential investor were waiting in his office, and told her to go right in.
She took another steadying breath and before stepping inside sent a quick prayer heavenward that the wealthy entrepreneur Brian had found to hopefully invest in her fledging enterprise would find The Sugar Shack worthy of his financial backing.
The first thing she saw was Brian sitting behind his desk, smiling as he chatted with the visitor facing away from her in one of the guest chairs. The man had dark hair that barely dusted the collar of his charcoal-gray jacket and was tapping a tan, long-fingered hand on the arm of his chair, as though he was impatient to get down to business.
As soon as Brian spotted her, his smile widened and he rose to his feet. “Vanessa,” he greeted her, “you’re right on time. Allow me to introduce you to the man I hope will become an investor in your wonderful bakery. Marcus Keller, this is Vanessa Mason. Vanessa this is—”
“We’ve met.”
Marcus’s voice hit her like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus, but it was only one of a series of rapid-fire shocks to her system. Brian had spoken her ex-husband’s name and her stomach had plummeted all the way to her feet. At the same time, Marcus had risen from his seat and turned to face her, and her heart had started to pound against her rib cage like a runaway freight train.
She saw him standing in front of her, black hair glinting midnight blue in the dappled sunlight streaming through the tall, multipaned windows lining one wall of the office, his green eyes gleaming with devilment. Yet his suit-and-tie image wavered and no amount of blinking brought him into focus.
“Hello, Vanessa,” he murmured softly.
Brushing his jacket aside, he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his matching charcoal slacks, adopting a negligent pose. He looked so comfortable and amused, while she felt as though an army of ants was crawling beneath her skin.
How in God’s name could this have happened? How could she not know that he was the potential investor? How could Brian not realize that Marcus was her ex-husband?
She wanted to kick herself for not asking more questi
ons or insisting on being given more details about today’s meeting. But then, she hadn’t really cared who Brian’s mystery investor was, had she? She’d cared only that he was rich and seemed willing to partner up with small business owners in the hopes of a big payoff down the road.
She’d convinced herself she was desperate and needed a quick influx of cash to keep The Sugar Shack’s doors open. But she would never be desperate enough to take charity from the man who had broken her heart and turned his back on her when she’d needed him the most.
Not bothering to address Marcus, she turned her gaze to Brian. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work out,” she told him, then promptly turned on her heel and marched back out of the office building.
She was down the front steps and halfway up the block before she heard the first call.
“Vanessa! Vanessa, wait!”
The three-inch pumps she’d worn because they went so well with her outfit—and because she’d wanted to make a good impression—pinched her toes as she nearly ran the length of the uneven sidewalk in the direction of The Sugar Shack. All she wanted was to get away from Marcus, away from those glittering eyes and the arrogant tilt of his chin. She didn’t care that he was yelling for her, or that she could hear his footsteps keeping pace several yards behind her. “Vanessa!”
Turning the corner only a short distance from The Sugar Shack, her steps faltered. Her heart lurched and her blood chilled.
Oh, no. She’d been so angry, so eager to get away from her ex-husband and escape back to the safety of the bakery that she’d forgotten that’s where Danny was. And if there was anything she needed to protect more than her own sanity, it was her son.
Suddenly, she couldn’t take another step, coming to a jerky stop only feet from the bakery door. Marcus rounded the corner a moment later, coming to an equally abrupt halt when he spotted her simply standing there like a panicked and disheveled department store mannequin.
