by Jane Peden
She kept her voice calm. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He’d won this round, but if he thought he was going to steamroll her where JD was concerned, he’d find out it wasn’t going to be so easy.
“So, are we done here? I need to talk to Olivia and JD. And start packing.”
“I have a few more things to discuss with you. As soon as we’re married, we’ll start the process for me to legally adopt JD.”
She felt her eyes widen in shock. “Adopt JD? I don’t understand.”
“I have no legal rights over him. As his sole surviving ‘parent’”—he hesitated a moment, then continued—“it’s a relatively simple matter for you to consent to your son being adopted by his stepfather. Once JD is legally my son, your former husband’s parents will have no legal basis to attempt to remove him from your custody. They would have to show that I’m an unfit father. And I assure you, there will be no basis for a determination of that nature.”
“I see.” It did make sense. If Sam adopted JD, the Winthrops would be unable to interfere, and the issue of biological parentage would be moot. She could honor Danny’s wishes, protect the heritage Danny had wanted to pass down to JD, and—hopefully—make up in some way for depriving Sam of any role in the first four years of his son’s life.
He leaned forward over his desk and looked at her, his eyes cold.
“Now, why don’t you tell me the real reason the Winthrops think they can take JD away from you? Aside from marrying their son for his money, what is it exactly that makes you an unfit mother? And don’t even think about lying to me.”
She felt her skin heat. “What difference does it make what they think? Once we’re married and—”
“It’s going to take some time for the adoption to go through. I need to know what we could be up against.” He pulled a legal pad in front of him and waited, his pen poised over the page.
She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “It’s simple, really. They think I killed my husband.”
He’d expected drunken parties, jetting off to exotic locations and leaving the boy with nannies, indiscriminate sex, and maybe even some prescription drug abuse. But this one definitely caught him by surprise.
“The news reports said your husband died of complications from his original injury. Is there a suspicion of foul play?”
“Not directly. My husband was a paraplegic. His parents accused me of encouraging him to take unnecessary risks. They think I planned it because I wanted his money.”
“How much did you inherit?”
“Very little,” she said, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I signed a prenup, and Danny didn’t live long enough for its terms to increase the amount I’d receive under the will.”
“So he was worth more to you alive than dead.”
She looked up, her eyes conveying hurt. “I happen to have loved my husband very much.”
“Which is why you spent the two weeks before your wedding in my bed.” Sam still couldn’t believe he had misjudged her so much back then.
A flush crept up her neck. “That wasn’t what it seemed.”
“Well, what exactly was it?”
“I wasn’t in love with Danny when I married him. I never would have let you pick me up in that hotel bar if I’d been in love with someone else! It started out as a business arrangement. But that all changed later on.”
“Just exactly what kind of ‘business arrangement’ did you have?”
“Look, I was broke at the time. And I had Olivia to take care of.”
“And of course you couldn’t just go out and get a job.”
“Do you have any idea…” She closed her eyes, seemed to be struggling with some painful memory. Then again, maybe she was just a very good actress. “Look, things were really complicated.”
He just wasn’t buying it.
“Nothing marrying a paraplegic millionaire wouldn’t cure.”
She gasped, and he wondered if maybe he’d gone a little too far. Camilla wasn’t the first woman to solve her financial problems by marrying for money. Then he hardened his heart as he thought about the years he’d missed with his son.
“I don’t owe you any explanation about my relationship with Danny,” she said stiffly. “You’ve made up your mind about me, regardless of anything I could say.”
Whatever decisions Camilla had made in the past, it was JD’s future that mattered now. “Your feelings for your former husband are hardly relevant at this juncture, anyway. I’m concerned only about my son. And I have no intention of having him taken to Connecticut with his grandparents, no matter how attached they may be to him.”
“They’ve been threatening me since the funeral. If they find out where I am…”
“So they don’t know anything about this trip?”
“No.”
“If they are close enough to their grandson—the child they believe is their grandson,” he amended, “to want custody, then keeping them in the dark about his whereabouts is only going to make them move more aggressively.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “Close to him? Before the funeral, they’d never even met JD.”
He stared at her.
“Danny was estranged from his parents.”
The pieces were beginning to fall into place now. “Over his marriage to you.”
“Among other things.”
“So they’re motivated by guilt? Since it’s too late to reconcile with their son, they’re trying to atone by taking care of his child?”
“Hardly. What they want to take care of is JD’s trust fund.”
Sam leaned back in his chair, considering. “How much?”
“What?”
“How much money is in the trust fund, Camilla?”
“About ten million.”
“And you’re the trustee?”
“Yes.”
No wonder she wanted to keep JD’s parentage a secret. His son was the pawn in a power struggle between an ambitious, unscrupulous gold digger and her uncaring in-laws. It was sickening.
“So you believe your in-laws’ interest is solely in getting their hands on the money.”
“No, that amount is a drop in the bucket for the Winthrops. Their interest is in keeping me from getting my hands on the money.”
“Can you blame them?” He stared her down, waiting for her to show some reaction, but her eyes never wavered. Then, just as it looked like she was about to say something, the door to his office opened.
“Hey, Sam, you want to knock off for a while and—oops, didn’t realize you had a client. Sorry.”
“Ritchie.” Sam gestured to his partner. “Come on in. I’d like to introduce you to Camilla Winthrop.”
He turned to Camilla. “This is one of my partners, Ritchie Perez.”
If he could get this one past Ritchie, the Miami social scene would be a breeze. “Camilla is a very dear friend of mine.” He came around the desk and put his hand on her shoulder. “She’s in town with her son and her younger sister. They’ll be staying at my place for a while.”
Ritchie reached out and shook Camilla’s hand while his eyes measured her. “So what brings you to Miami?”
Sam waited to hear how Camilla would answer it.
“My son.” She glanced up at Sam. “There are some things I’ve been wanting him to experience here in Florida.”
“How old is your son?”
“JD’s four.”
“Well, you’ll have to head over to Disney while you’re in the area. Right, Sam?”
“Absolutely.”
Ritchie glanced down at the conspicuous diamond on her ring finger. “So is your husband joining you on this trip?”
“Camilla’s a widow,” Sam said.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s part of the reason for the trip,” Camilla said. “Sometimes a change of scenery is the best thing.”
“Well, I’ve interrupted long enough. Camilla, it was a pleasure
meeting you. Sam, I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, giving Sam a look that told him Ritchie wasn’t buying it.
“So,” Camilla said, after Ritchie left. “How do you think that went?”
“Fine.” He’d have to come clean with his two partners, but there was no reason to share that with Camilla right now.
“He seemed surprised that we’re going to be staying with you.”
“I’m not known for letting people get close to me.”
“Well, then, I can’t wait to see the reaction when you announce we’re getting married.”
Chapter Four
“Oh. My. God. This place rocks!” Olivia opened the French doors and stepped out onto the wide balcony overlooking the pool and, beyond that, the open water.
“Glad you approve,” Sam said
She spun around, unfazed by his cool tone. “You live here all by yourself?”
“Until now.”
“Right. I bet you’ve had some awesome parties.”
He felt the corner of his mouth quirk. “A few.” He was having a hard time resenting the girl, in spite of her sister’s coldhearted actions. Ironically, the guileless delight that radiated from Olivia reminded him of the person he’d thought Camilla was—and although it made him feel even more annoyed at the way he’d been completely taken in by Camilla, it also made it hard not to warm up to Olivia.
Camilla walked in with JD and watched them for a moment. JD stood behind Camilla shyly with his face pressed against her leg, peering out at Sam.
When Camilla’s eyes met Sam’s he felt a quick burst of attraction. She wore a simple sundress and sandals, the light from the open doorway shining on her hair accentuating the look of sweetness and innocence. He could almost believe she was exactly what she appeared to be. Then his gaze shifted to JD and he was struck again at how much it was like looking at an image of himself at that age. His first impulse was to stride over and pick the little boy up in his arms. Sam wanted to give JD all the security and love that Sam had never felt from his own father at that age. Or ever. Just a few steps across the room and he could grab JD away from Camilla and let him know that from now on everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t do that. His own son didn’t even know who he was.
Sam realized suddenly that he had no idea what to say to a child that age.
“Olivia,” he said. “Why don’t you take JD upstairs, show him his room. It’s the third door on the right.”
“I want to sleep with Mommy!”
That wasn’t going to work. JD needed to feel comfortable in his room right from the start. This was where he would be growing up. And it wasn’t right for him to be so dependent on Camilla that he couldn’t sleep in his own bed at night. Sam remembered how he’d clung to his own mother after his father abandoned them. And his mother had encouraged him at first. But that just made it harder when she started dating again and completely lost interest in him. So much so that after she remarried she didn’t hesitate to ship him off to boarding school so she could move on without the inconvenience of raising a child.
Once Camilla got what she wanted—a marriage that protected JD’s trust account from interference by the Winthrops—Sam had no doubt she’d lose interest in JD and be all too ready to hand him off to a nanny or a boarding school. And Sam was not about to let his own son be set up for the same heartbreak and feelings of betrayal he himself had experienced.
No, this house was where JD was going to stay, regardless of where Camilla ended up. So it made sense to set some ground rules from the beginning.
“A child should have his own room,” Sam said, looking at Camilla. “And his own bed.”
JD started to cry. He reached up, pulling on Camilla’s sleeve. “I don’t wanna stay here. I wanna go home.”
She crouched down, hugged him. “How about if Mommy sleeps with you in your room tonight. Okay?”
JD nodded, sniffling, and she gave him a hug. In Sam’s opinion, it wasn’t a good plan, but he bit back any comment. He was not going to start his relationship with his son by arguing in front of him.
“Go on up with Livvy now, okay, honey?” Camilla gave JD another squeeze and then watched him go up the stairs with Olivia. She turned back to Sam.
“He’s a little boy. And he just lost his…” She paused and bit her lip. “He’s been having bad dreams.”
“Fine,” Sam said, striding across the room until he was close to her. “As long as you understand you won’t be sleeping in his room after the wedding.”
“I’m sure you have plenty of rooms to spare,” she said, turning away from him.
Sam grabbed her arm, spun her back, and yanked her against him. If she was trying on purpose to get under his skin, she was doing a good job of it.
“I’m not looking forward to marrying you, Camilla. But I expect our arrangement to have at least a few benefits.”
“The marriage is just a formality, Sam.” She glanced toward the stairs and spoke in a low hiss. “If you think you’re going to force me to sleep with you, then—”
In a second his mouth captured hers, pressing that deceptively delicate body against his. He tightened his hold on her upper arms, lifting her up onto her toes, deepening the kiss until her lips trembled under his. He felt her yield, felt her nipples harden against his chest through her thin summer dress, while her resistance melted away and was replaced by the fiery response he remembered from Las Vegas.
He stepped back the moment he felt her surrender, while she struggled to recover her breath. He’d wanted to make a point, but he’d felt dangerously close to losing himself in the moment. He kept his voice even and without emotion.
“You can tell yourself you don’t want sex to be part of our marriage, Camilla, but your body doesn’t lie.” He paused. “You’re the one who showed up at my office and demanded that I marry you. And if you think I’m going to cheat on my wife or live like a monk for a year, then you don’t know me at all.”
He moved past her to the door, picking up his briefcase. “I’ll be at the office late.” He turned. “The BMW’s in the garage and the keys are on the table.”
Sam walked back in the door at 1:00 a.m., tired and in a bad mood, and smelled…chocolate chip cookies? He tossed his jacket on a chair in the living room, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, then wandered out to the kitchen. Camilla was lifting a batch of cookies off a baking sheet onto a set of racks on the marble island.
She was wearing a short camisole that left an enticing line of skin exposed above a pair of cotton drawstring shorts with a strawberry pattern printed all over them. Her feet were bare and her toes were painted the color of the strawberries. Her hair was pulled back in a haphazard clip, with wisps of it escaping to frame her face.
His mouth started to water, and he wasn’t sure which was more appealing at the moment—the plump chocolate chip cookies or the woman who was baking them.
“It’s one a.m.,” he said.
“I couldn’t sleep. I told JD we’d bake cookies earlier, but we didn’t get around to it.” She laughed nervously. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I like to bake.”
“Apparently.”
“Do you know you didn’t have any baking sheets or mixing bowls?”
“Why would I have baking sheets and mixing bowls?”
“Well, you have some now. Among other things. I got a little carried away at Williams-Sonoma. With your credit card.”
“I told you to get whatever you needed. The sooner JD and Olivia feel at home here, the better.”
“Want to try one?” She picked up a cookie herself and nibbled at the edge, then licked the crumbs from her lips. “Be careful, though. They’re cool enough on the edges, but the center could still be hot enough to burn you.”
God. It felt like a punch in the gut as the thought crossed his mind that the description suited the woman far better than the cookies. Cool on the outside, he knew from experience that underneath it all Camilla was one hot little number. A few touches fr
om him would be all it took to ignite that fire.
He had a picture in his mind suddenly of pushing the camisole up so he could get his mouth on those perky breasts. Then loosening that drawstring and watching the strawberry shorts slip down her long, bare legs. He felt himself go hard as he wondered if she wore anything under her pajama shorts. Well, he was about to find out.
“It’s not cookies I’ve got an appetite for at the moment,” he said roughly, moving toward her.
“Sam, what are you doing?” She backed up a few steps, sudden awareness in her eyes, and dropped the cookie she’d been eating. Her face was flushed and her nipples were outlined more clearly now against the thin, stretchy fabric, and he knew she was as aroused as he was.
He put his hands on her waist and felt her jerk in response as he slid them upward, pushing the camisole with them. She ran her hands through his hair and arched toward him.
“Sam, I want you.” Her low moan fueled his arousal, and he freed one hand to tug roughly at the drawstring that kept her shorts on her hips.
He wanted to spin her around, brace her against the cool marble island, and take her from behind, filling his hands with those pert little breasts and feeling her lovely backside trembling against him when she came.
“Mommy?” The small voice seemed to be coming from somewhere downstairs, and they jerked apart, Camilla yanking her camisole back down as Sam stepped behind the counter to hide the obvious bulge in his pants.
“I’m in the kitchen, sweetie,” Camilla answered, getting her voice and her breathing back under control.
JD walked in, his little bare feet padding across the stone floor, wearing superhero pajamas, dragging a worn teddy bear in one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. Sam felt something tighten in his chest.
“I can’t sleep, Mommy. I woke up and you were gone and I didn’t know where you were.” His little mouth formed a pout and he looked like he was about to cry until his nose apparently registered the fragrant smell of chocolate chip cookies. His face lit up and he looked more awake.
“Mommy, you made me cookies. Can I have some? Please.” He sneaked a look over at Sam and smiled shyly, and Sam found himself smiling back.
