The Miracle Wife (Harlequin Romance)

by Leclaire, Day

  The coarse laughter that followed had Raven clenching his hands. How he’d love to cut loose with these animals. Unfortunately, with River at his side, he didn’t dare. He remained silent, though he made certain his gaze promised retribution.

  “When’s the wedding?” demanded another reporter.

  “Is she pregnant?” A cynical-eyed blonde threw the question at him—Ms. Lark, the most aggressive of the bunch. “Is that why you two are getting married?”

  “Who is she? You know we’re gonna find out eventually, so you might as well tell us.”

  As though the reporters’ questions summoned her, a woman stepped through the doors of Sierra Consortium. She paused, caught in a shaft of sunlight that poured through the glass wall of the lobby. Most women he knew would have been disconcerted by the sudden spotlight. Not this one. She went perfectly still as she took stock of her surroundings. It reminded him of a lone doe entering a meadow, testing the winds for the scent of danger. Wary, rather than shy. Determined, but not foolish about it.

  The woman was also gorgeous, Raven acknowledged reluctantly—tall, slender and devastatingly elegant. Her clothes were impeccable, as was her hair. and makeup. She carried herself with the assurance of someone not easily disconcerted. Obviously she’d been around. He’d have expected a woman like that to have a brittle sophistication that penetrated clear to her soul, like the blond reporter snarling at his heels.

  But even as he tried to pin the accusation on this woman, he knew he was mistaken. Rather, he sensed a softness, a radiant sweetness his grandmother used to call a “gold spirit.” “Those are the ones you marry,” Nawna had told him the week before she’d died. “They’re pure on the inside, where it counts. You wait. Wait until you find a pure one. Then you cling to her and never let go. She will close the circle. She will heal and complete you.” He shook off the memory, furious with himself for giving credence to an old woman’s foolish fantasies. For that’s all they were. And with one regrettable exception, he’d weeded each and every fantasy from his life—and from his daughter’s.

  Spying the reception desk, the woman deserted her position in the sunlight and crossed the lobby. Raven watched, swearing beneath his breath. She moved with a supple, rhythmic stride that attracted instant attention. Of course. Beauty and grace. He’d always found it a deadly combination. Consciously or not, women like this drew men. Even if the trap of physical appeal could be avoided, they captured the unwary with every sway of hip and sweep of hand, their silent music more potent than a siren’s lure. As hardened as he’d become, he could still hear the call, sense the subtle pull.

  She was forbidden desire.

  Pausing at the desk, she questioned the man on duty, listening carefully to his response. Before she even turned, he sensed it, a gut instinct warning that she’d come for him. His mouth twisted. Another of Nawna’s “gifts,” one he hadn’t quite eradicated. Sure enough, her head swiveled in his direction and hair as long and richly black as his daughter’s drifted in a slow, dark slide across one shoulder. Their gazes locked, honey brown clashing with raven black. To his surprise, she didn’t approach. Instead the woman slowly circled the press of reporters until she stood behind them. Setting her briefcase at her feet, she folded her arms across her chest and propped one shoulder against a nearby pillar.

  And then she smiled.

  He paid a huge price for that one smile. The focus he’d divided between the woman and the reporters slipped for a costly split second, arrowing in on her with unmistakable intensity. The reporters didn’t miss a beat. Almost as one, they turned. The crowd shifted ever so slightly, providing a clear view of the woman.

  At his side, he heard River catch her breath. “Daddy! It’s her, it’s her! She’s come to give me my wish. Hurry or she’ll fly away.”

  Before he could stop his impetuous daughter, she ripped free of his hold and plunged into the tightly packed crowd. With an agility borne of desperation, she wriggled through the forest of legs, intent on achieving her goal. Releasing a string of pent-up curses, Raven started after her. She disappeared from view for a horrifying moment. Then he saw her skid to a halt in front of the woman. The two were completely encircled by the crowd of reporters—with Raven on the outside of that magical ring.

  “You came!” he heard River exclaim as she flung herself at the woman. Even more startling, the woman acted as though she knew his daughter, laughing at the child’s enthusiasm and scooping her into a warm embrace. He could hear River’s piping voice, hear that she asked a question, but couldn’t make out the exact words.

  Only two more reporters separated him from his daughter. Raven didn’t bother with niceties. Dropping a heavy hand on their shoulders, he shoved them from his path. The woman’s attention was still focused on the girl she held, foolishly unaware of the trouble she’d summoned by touching his child. She hesitated, taking a moment to consider her response to River’s question. What the hell was going on? Then she nodded. With a shriek of delight, River wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck.

  Raven planted himself in front of the two, fighting to keep his voice low, struggling to subdue the deadly tone. He didn’t succeed. “Take your hands off my kid.”

  River swiveled to face him, her expression lit with the purest joy he’d ever seen. “Daddy! She said yes. Justice is going to be my new mommy.”

  A blinding series of flashbulbs exploded around J.J. and she blinked in confusion. Surely she couldn’t have heard correctly. What had River said? “Wait just a minute! I didn’t—” Her words were drowned beneath an avalanche of shouted questions and the sudden press of the surrounding reporters jockeying for a better position.

  “What’s your name, lady?”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “Where’d you two meet?”

  “How did you convince Mr. Untouchable to pop the big question?”

  “When’s your baby due?”

  J.J. had faced the press countless times before. But never like this, never when they were in a feeding frenzy. Desperate for an avenue of escape her gaze lifted to the man planted directly in front of her. She’d been told at the reception desk that he was Raven Sierra, River’s father. The name fit.

  He was as dark and sharp-eyed as a raven, with a countenance as cold and craggy as the Sierra peaks. His eyes reminded her of pitch...black and unrelenting and all-consuming. And he disturbed her in ways she preferred to keep safely untouched. There was something about him... Some indefinable quality that slipped past her guard and breached the defenses she’d spent years erecting.

  Her eyes narrowed. It wasn’t his appearance that attracted her. She wouldn’t consider him conventionally handsome. Sure, he had great features—high, flaring cheekbones, a no-nonsense, squared chin and a broad, well-defined mouth. But his nose had taken a beating or two and his eyes were far too intense, filled with the light of raw passion, betraying him as a man who had walked the wild side on more than one occasion. His hair emphasized that dark streak. He wore it long, the thick waves stubbornly untamed.

  And then it struck her, enabling her to recognize the underlying appeal. He’d been through the same wars she had. Fought the same battles. Received the same scars. Whether he knew it or not, they were kindred spirits. They were connected on a level few would understand. That’s why he’d been able to penetrate her defenses with a single look. He knew where to find the hidden passageways.

  Unfortunately she’d done something that had stirred the warrior in him—something connected to his daughter. That made him twice as dangerous. Instead of working in concert together, she’d managed to pit them one against the other. She closed her eyes, summoning the energy the coming confrontation would entail. Whatever she’d done, she’d better be able to rectify the situation or she’d pay dearly. This was a man who didn’t lose.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked at him. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. She could feel the rage building behind his rigid expression, knew he’d be only too happy t
o toss her to the scavenging reporters scrambling behind him. What in the world had just happened? How had she gone from innocent bystander to center ring in this media circus? She gave reconciliation a final ditch effort.

  “Please,” she whispered, clutching River close.

  She truly thought he’d ignore her entreaty. Winter had descended on this particular mountaintop, leaving it in frigid isolation. He plucked his daughter from her arms and tossed the little girl over his shoulder. And then, just as she expected to be deserted, he wrapped a heavy arm around her. Shock vied with relief. It would seem she’d found herself a noble warrior after all, one who’d conduct their battle in private. Tucking her close, he forged a path through the opposition. At the last possible instant she remembered to snatch up her briefcase. Thank goodness she hadn’t forgotten that.

  He hustled them toward the far end of the lobby, reporters dogging their heels and shouting questions. The instant they reached a bank of elevators, the doors parted and a half-dozen security men tumbled from the car.

  “Sorry, boss,” one of them gasped. “The damn thing shut off on us halfway down. Your computer kept telling us we’d made some sort of error.”

  “Get rid of our visitors,” Raven ordered.

  “No problem. We’ll get right on it.”

  Still maintaining a protective stance, Raven shepherded them into the car. “My office,” he instructed as the doors closed, leaving their pursuers at the mercy of the security men.

  To J.J.’s amazement, Gem responded to the request. “AFFIRMATIVE, MR. SIERRA. WILL REACH DESTINATION IN ONE MINUTE, FORTY-FIVE POINT SEVEN SECONDS.”

  “Gem, what are you doing here?” J.J. questioned in surprise.

  “IDENTIFY PLEASE.”

  “It’s me. J.J. Randell.”

  “ONE MOMENT. ACCESSING.” A series of high-pitched beeps emitted from the speakers. Then Gem came on-line again. “WELCOME TO SIERRA CONSORTIUM, MS. RANDELL. HOW WAS YOUR TRIP?”

  “Can it, Gem.” Raven cut in. “This isn’t the time for pointless chitchat, especially coming from a computer.”

  “ERROR FOUR-NINETEEN. REQUEST UNCLEAR. PLEASE REPHRASE.”

  “Shut up,” he growled. “Is that clear enough?”

  “AFFIRMATIVE. MR. SIERRA. SHUTTING UP.”

  He turned his attention to J.J. and she braced herself for the first wave of his attack. “Okay, sweetheart. Your turn. What the hell are you doing here? And how do you know about Gem? Are you associated with SSI?”

  “SSI?” she repeated in confusion.

  “Security Systems, International. Nick Colter’s company. They invented the computer.”

  “Oh. No, I’m not. We just bought the system recently, ourselves. I guess they use the same voice for all their programs.”

  Apparently satisfied with her response, he nodded dismissively. “Fascinating. Now, once again. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”

  “I’m J.J. Randell and I work for Blackstone’s. It’s a procurement firm out of Seattle owned by Mathias—”

  “Blackstone! Son of a—” He broke off, shooting a wary glance at his all-too-attentive daughter. “He set this up, didn’t he?” he demanded in an undertone.

  Her confusion grew. “Set what up?”

  “You. He arranged for you to be here.”

  Somehow she suspected she’d regret confirming his guess. Still... She had a job to accomplish—a job that grew more complicated by the minute. “Yes, he sent me.”

  Raven shifted closer. It was a tiny movement, no more than changing his balance from one foot to the other. And yet, the spacious car shrank, becoming far too small to contain her, one small girl and the infuriated male at her side. He seemed to loom above her, his gaze gathering her up and holding her with frightening intensity. “Well, you can hightail it back to Seattle and tell your boss my answer hasn’t changed.”

  JJ. stared, stunned. She’d been here all of fifteen minutes and she’d already blown her very first Christmas wish? “You want me to leave?”

  Instantly River burst into tears. She grabbed at her father’s belt and tugged frantically. “Daddy, no! Don’t send her away. She came to give me my wish. You can’t let her leave.”

  The change in him was instantaneous. The fury eased from his expression, concern seeping into his eyes and voice. “What wish, honey? What are you talking about.”

  River clutched her rag doll even closer and flashed a quick guilty look from her father to J.J. “My birthday wish. I made a wish and Justice is here to make it come true. She said so.”

  “Who’s Justice?”

  River pointed at J.J. “That’s Justice. Don’t you ’member? She’s the fairy in my book. I wished for her and she came.”

  J.J. swallowed. Uh-oh. Matters had just taken a serious turn for the worse. She addressed River. “I’m not a fairy, sweetheart. I’m a real person.”

  The little girl appeared far from convinced, but before she could argue, the doors parted and J.J. hastened from the car into a large, empty reception area, relieved to have the extra maneuvering room. She forced herself to turn and confront Raven. “Look... It’s obvious that there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. Perhaps we could all sit down and sort it out.”

  “Sure.” Raven lowered his daughter to the floor. “We’ll start working it out right away so you can catch the next plane home.” He realized his mistake the instant River teared up again. He pointed to a tall door, composed of curved sections of mixed-wood inlay. Each piece fit into the next in an intriguing pattern of light and dark. It took an instant for her to see the raven hidden in the pattern. “Wait for me in my office.”

  Without a word, she pushed open the door, leaving father and daughter to talk in private. His office reminded her somewhat of her brother-in-law’s. Like Mathias, Raven preferred an absence of colors. But rather than the study in black and white that had once dominated Blackstone’s, wood complemented the strong white walls and dove gray Berber carpet. It gave a warmth to the room that took her by surprise. She’d expected something cold and sterile. Instead the decor offered unexpected insights into Sierra’s nature.

  The surface of his desk duplicated the door to his office, the intricately carved wood protected by a heavy sheet of glass. It was a beautiful piece of workmanship. As she studied it, she noticed something she’d missed before. The raven hidden in the pattern flew over a rippling stream, its wings spread wide as though to embrace the expanse of water. Did it symbolize his daughter, River? It seemed likely. For such a hard man, it revealed a vulnerability she found disconcerting.

  Opposite the desk she noted a small sitting area, the tables made of the same inlaid wood as Raven’s desk and office door. But it was the corner of the room nearest his desk that drew her, an area clearly designed for River’s exclusive use. A miniature desk and bookcase took up most of the space. Behind the desk, childish crayon drawings completely covered the stark white wall. Clearly the man had a soft spot for his daughter, if he allowed her to color on his office walls. Scattered in between the colorful drawings they’d hung photos and pictures cut from various magazines.

  J.J. crossed the room to take a closer look. Centered among all the drawings and framed by brightly colored scribbles she found an article about Jack Rabbitt, along with a photo of one of her sister’s storybook illustrations. The article was almost a year old, and one J.J. remembered well.

  The caption beneath the photo read, “Jack Rabbitt—the author and illustrator whose identity remains shrouded in secrecy—now ranks number one with children worldwide.” Of course, Jacq had revealed her identity not long after that article had been released and sold the painting they’d highlighted in order to raise money for a child’s bone marrow operation.

  J.J. caught her lip between her teeth. Even after a full year, the featured painting still had the power to disconcert her. For some reason, it was one of her sister’s favorites. It portrayed the fairy, Justice, riding a butterfly. The wings of the butterfly swept upward,
concealing the naked fairy from the shoulders down, while sunlight turned the wings to gossamer, detailing the fairy’s silhouette through a swirl of soft color. Of course, the identity of the fairy was unmistakable.

  It was J.J.

  Just as Jacq had used her future husband as a model for the dragon, Nemesis, she’d used her sister as a then-unknowing model for the fairy. When confronted, Jacq had explained the symbolism. She’d hoped J.J. would one day break free and learn to fly, like the fairy in her storybooks. Well, J.J. had done her best. Her first wobbly step toward that freedom had come the day she’d left her father’s PR firm to work at Blackstone’s. And now she’d embarked on another formative step—fulfilling her first Christmas wish.

  Unfortunately she currently found herself in the uncomfortable position of having to explain to a five-year-old child that she wasn’t really a magical fairy. Just great. She’d simply tell River, “I’m no fairy, sweetheart. I’ve simply come to give you a wish.” The poor kid would understand the distinction, right? Sure she would. J.J. shook her head in disgust. What the heck was she supposed to do now?

  As though in response to her silent question, the office door opened and Raven Sierra stepped across the threshold. “My secretary is watching River while we talk,” he said, sealing the door behind him. “We have a problem.”

  “I suspected as much.”

  “My daughter is of the opinion that you’re a fairy who came here to grant her wish. She insists that’s what you told her. Would you mind explaining why you’d do something so reprehensible?”

  J.J.’s eyes widened in alarm. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

  His jaw clenched, but he kept his voice as civil as hers. “Yes, there has.” A humorless smile slashed across his face. “And you made it.”

  It would seem the battle was well and truly engaged. Fine. She’d been in more conflicts than she could count. What was another one? She lifted her chin and held her ground. “I did come to grant River her wish, but I never claimed to be a fairy. I think she’s confusing me with the one in the Jack Rabbitt books.” Suddenly remembering the gift she’d brought, she snapped her fingers and glanced around for her briefcase. “Hang on a sec. I have something that might help.”