Inherited: Baby

by Nicola Marsh

  ‘You guessed right.’

  This time, she couldn’t prevent a wide yawn from escaping and almost grimaced at the picture she must present: dishevelled appearance, hair in scruffy pigtails, dark circles of fatigue under her eyes and a yawn that would do the big clown at Luna Park proud.

  He smiled, a gentle smile full of understanding, and it took all her willpower not to snuggle against his broad chest and ask him to take her to her room and tuck her in for a nap like she’d seen him do with Chas.

  ‘In that case, how about I collect Chas from the Goulds’, take him away for some fresh air and give you a few more free hours to catch up on some beauty sleep?’

  ‘That would be great.’

  She mustered a tired smile and pushed away from the table, standing with the effort of a ninety-year-old with arthritis. ‘He’ll have a nap around three, so if you bring him back by then he won’t get too grumpy on you.’

  ‘I can handle the little guy.’

  She must’ve swayed on her feet for his arms shot out and grabbed hold of her waist, steadying her.

  However, there was nothing remotely steady about her heartbeat. It jumped and bucked like a stalled stallion, throwing in a few kicks for good measure as her hands reached out instinctively to brace on his forearms.

  Like everything about him, his forearms were strong, solid and warm. Hot, in fact, the heat branding the skin of her palms till she almost melded to him.

  If she weren’t so tired she would’ve pulled away the instant she registered how good it felt to touch him but instead she just stood there like a dummy, their gazes locked, something akin to electricity arcing between them in the dreary kitchen.

  ‘Bed really seems like a good idea right about now,’ she said, all but pushing him away in her haste to escape the tension-fraught situation and seek solace in slumber. If he didn’t haunt her dreams, that was.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said, his lips curving into a teasing smile and her stomach flip-flopped with embarrassment as she realised what she’d said.

  ‘Okay, now that we’ve established I’m a very tired woman who can’t string two coherent words together, it’s time you headed off on that picnic,’she said, grateful he hadn’t taken her poorly-phrased statement for an invitation as many guys would’ve.

  But then, Riley Bourke wasn’t like many guys, at least not the ones she’d ever known.

  His grin broadened and he leaned forward to drop a chaste peck on her cheek. ‘I’m off. Now, you hit that bed while I spend some quality time with my nephew and we’ll see you around three.’

  She managed a tired nod, waiting till the front door closed behind him to ponder her irrational disappointment that his farewell kiss had been so brief and filled with a despondency that, no matter how great a guy Riley was, he had no place in her life other than as Chas’s uncle.

  Riley chased, tickled, cajoled and cuddled Chas all afternoon, in awe of Maya and what she did every day to care for an active toddler like his nephew. Chas was a dervish, a never-ending bundle of energy who craved attention—like all kids—and threw a tantrum when he didn’t get it. He’d heard of the terrible twos but it looked as if this little man was getting in some practice early.

  ‘Go-go,’Chas said, tears filling his eyes as he reached up his chubby arms from the plaid blanket Riley had spread under a massive oak in the Botanic Gardens.

  ‘You’ve had enough too, huh?’ Riley picked Chas up and cuddled him, contentment seeping through his body and tugging on his heart-strings.

  He’d never had any dreams to find a wife and have kids, happy to think that if it happened, it happened. Besides, he’d been married to his career for longer than he cared to remember and bailing Joe out of one scrape after another was like caring for a kid anyway.

  However, the last few weeks with Chas had been incredible and he’d bonded with the little guy quicker than he’d anticipated. Initially, he’d attributed it to guilt at letting Joe down by burying his head in business but he’d quickly realised that wasn’t true. Like his father, Chas was a charmer. After all, he’d charmed his uncle into loving him unconditionally before Riley could even blink.

  ‘Go,’ Chas murmured, his bottom lip quivering in a classic move preceding a lusty lungful.

  ‘Okay, little man. We’re going.’

  Tossing the blanket on top of the picnic basket, he hauled Chas on to his hip as he’d seen Maya do a hundred times and picked up the basket with his free hand, chuckling ruefully at the domestic picture he must present. If the guys at the office could see him now…

  Not that they’d seen him for weeks and, if he had his way, they wouldn’t see him for a while longer. Joe’s death, while futile and tragic, had given him a long-overdue wake-up call. Business had become his life, a substitute for many things, including a possible relationship and all it entailed.

  He’d liked it that way. He understood the corporate world, which was more than he could say about women.

  He’d tried to be rational about the whole Maya situation to the extent that he’d deliberately pushed her away last Friday. It had been petty but when she’d labelled him as being some kind of jackass eager to dump them and get back to his previous life, he’d almost lost it.

  He’d been feeling pretty down anyway at the thought that she wouldn’t need him any more and her jibe hadn’t helped matters.

  She’d invited him for dinner; he’d told her the barefaced lie that he had plans. Yeah, plans with his laptop and mobile to connect with the office and catch up; real scintillating stuff. But what made it worse was the hurt he’d seen in her eyes and the realisation that his boorish behaviour had put it there.

  So he’d come up with the spur of the moment picnic idea. Glancing down at the drowsy child in his arms, he knew that a boy’s day out wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind at the time and that his idea of a perfect Sunday picnic would’ve included Maya.

  In a way, not having her here wasn’t too bad considering that insane moment in her kitchen when he’d wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless. She’d looked so fragile, so helpless, and the feel of her soft hands gripping on to him for grim death had awakened his protective instincts in a big way.

  Though his motives weren’t entirely altruistic. He’d tried holding her at arm’s length, tried playing the concerned friend and the knight in shining armour, but when he got down to it, he wanted her: wrapped in his arms, clinging to him, needing him out of passion rather than for compassion.

  Chas made a soft mewling noise as he fell into a light sleep and Riley kissed him, placed him gently in the car seat and fastened the seat belt, gazing in wonder at the little boy who had wormed his way into his heart without trying.

  Business may have been his life, but, inhaling Chas’s soft fragrance, seeing the tiny smile curling his cherubic lips, Riley knew that his nephew had shifted his focus for the better.

  Making millions was one thing, making this precious little guy chuckle another.

  Whichever way he looked at it, he was smitten.

  And, deep down, he wondered if Chas was the only one who’d captured his attention away from his career and on to matters closer to home.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘YOU’RE COMING TONIGHT, right?’

  Maya ignored Albert momentarily and continued sponging Material Girl’s flank, using a sweat scraper to clear off any excess water.

  ‘I don’t have anything to wear,’ she said deadpan, knowing that as Albert had helped her move he had seen the plastic bags containing the remnants of a designer wardrobe Joe had bought for her at the start of their relationship.

  Ironic, considering everything else he’d given her had been repossessed, leaving her with a few fancy glad rags she’d rarely wear.

  ‘As if.’

  Albert snorted, doing a fine impersonation of the mare that would run in the Melbourne Cup tomorrow, the same mare whose ears pricked from side to side as if listening to their conversation. ‘You’d look good i
n a hessian sack.’

  Sluicing the last of the water from the mare, Maya gave her a gentle pat and wiped her hands before turning to the jockey who had partial control over her fate tomorrow.

  ‘Thanks, I think. Anyway, I have to go to keep an eye on you. Don’t want some bimbo spiking your drink and ruining our chances of taking home the Cup.’

  ‘Bimbo? I’ll have you know my taste in women is improving. I haven’t dated a model or a soapie star for at least a month.’

  Maya chuckled and slipped a fine mesh cooler over Material Girl to keep the mare warm while she dried. ‘Maybe there’s hope for you yet.’

  ‘What about you? Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away from seeing you and Mr Fancy Pants make a grand entrance.’

  To her annoyance, heat flushed her cheeks and she tried to hide her blush by bending down and inspecting the mare’s feed.

  ‘Brett invited Riley last week and it makes sense for us to come together. We’re friends.’

  ‘Friends? Riiiight.’Albert sniggered, an aggravating sound that had her wishing the mare would give him a swift hoof right where it hurt the most.

  ‘So that’s why the guy takes a few weeks off from his own hotshot job to wake up with the birds and muck out horse poo. Because you’re just friends.’

  Maya straightened and pinned Albert with a glare that would’ve shrunk a giant down to his current height. ‘Riley is family to Chas, a responsibility he doesn’t take lightly. So yes, we’re friends. We have to be for Chas’s sake.’

  Albert took a step towards her, laying a soothing hand on the mare, which had skittered sideways at Maya’s raised voice. ‘And what about your sake?’

  Maya dropped her gaze, finding the hay beneath her feet infinitely more interesting than her friend’s probing stare at that moment. ‘Honestly? It’s nice to have someone I can rely on, someone I know I can trust.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘Come off it, Eddy. We’ve worked together too long for you to treat me like an idiot. I’ve seen you with this guy and, let me tell you, he seems interested in more than just friendship.’

  She raised stricken eyes to Albert, not sure whether to hope that he was wrong or wish that he was right. She’d grown attached to Riley, had valued his help with Chas, but what if he expected more….

  ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘What if I’m not?’ Albert softened his voice. ‘You could do a lot worse, you know. And, like it or not, you need to think about your future.’

  ‘And your point is?’

  ‘For a hotshot, this Riley chap seems like a decent sort of a guy. As you said yourself, he’s family to Chas. Why don’t you give him a chance?’

  ‘Because we’re friends and that’s that!’ she blurted, hating how cool and logical Albert sounded, annoyed with him for planting tiny seeds of hope that could grow to beanstalk proportion given encouragement.

  If this was only about her, she might’ve considered throwing caution to the wind and seeing if there was more behind her bizarre attraction to Riley.

  But she couldn’t. She had Chas to think about, her precious child who would never face a hint of scandal or shame that could taint him if she became involved with his uncle.

  No matter how perfect Riley was, how considerate, how sexy, she would never put her feelings in front of her child’s wellbeing.

  She wasn’t her mother.

  ‘Just friends, huh?’

  Clamping down the urge to stomp her feet in frustration like Chas about to have a tantrum, she said, ‘That’s right. Now, why don’t you concentrate on not tripping over your two left feet at the Ball tonight and getting this lovely lady first past the winning post tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to save you a dance tonight,’ he said, tipping his hat in her direction before heading towards the door, his cocky grin not slipping an inch despite her brush-off. ‘As for winning the race tomorrow, we can’t lose. See you at the Ball with your glad rags on.’

  He waved and sauntered out the door, one of Melbourne’s leading jockeys at the top of his game, his big talk more than making up for his short stature. However, in this case, his talk was wrong.

  She didn’t have feelings for Riley.

  She’d grown dependent on him, sure, but she hadn’t had much option considering her torn ankle ligaments, what the possible prize money would mean to Chas’s future and his interest in getting to know his nephew.

  If it had been her choice, she would’ve spurned Riley Bourke the minute he’d offered her money and never looked back. Instead, she’d had to eat humble pie—a heavy serving which had given her a distinct case of indigestion.

  Just friends, huh?

  Albert’s words echoed in her head, taunting her.

  If having more than a friendship with Riley could potentially hurt Chas, she wouldn’t go there.

  Uh-uh. From now on it was her and Chas against the world and if Riley wanted to do the uncle thing, fine by her.

  As for the weird attraction simmering between them, she’d ignore it.

  Simple.

  Maya’s high heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked into the bar to meet Riley, trying to stop casting nervous sideways glances at herself in the floor to ceiling mirrors lining the entranceway.

  For a girl who lived in jodhpurs and flannel shirts, she loved dressing up. The whole make-up, slinky fabric, strappy shoes transformation had always served to make her feel like a new woman and if there was ever a night she needed to feel that way, tonight was it.

  The Cup Eve Ball at the Palladium was one of the social events of the Melbourne season, where horse racing people mixed with society in a glittering gala designed to dazzle. Two years ago to the day it had succeeded—though that night she’d been more dazzled by Joe than the event. Dazzled and frazzled and swept into a life-changing series of events which were still throwing her the odd curve ball.

  One of which was heading towards her right now at an alarming rate of knots.

  ‘Wow, you look incredible.’

  Riley’s eyes glowed with pleasure as his gaze swept from the top of her head where she’d piled her curls in a loose top-knot, to the bottom of her feet, her iridescent pink-painted toe nails poking out from silver sandals, and back up again.

  ‘Amazing what a bit of make-up can do,’ she said, trying not to shuffle from one foot to the other under his intense scrutiny.

  ‘You’re beautiful. And it has nothing to do with that evil dress or your tasteful make-up.’

  Though his compliment warmed her, she didn’t feel beautiful. She’d never felt beautiful.

  Certainly not in the grubby hand-me-down charity shop clothes she’d been forced to wear throughout her childhood. Nor later when Joe’s charming mask had dropped and he’d poked fun at her post-baby shape and penchant for jeans and T-shirts instead of designer discomfort.

  Determined to ignore the past tonight, she fixed a bright smile on her face and said, ‘Evil?’

  Heat sizzled between them as he reached out and slowly ran his hand over the soft fabric clinging to her waist. ‘This dress is the epitome of evil, from its colour to its cut. The thoughts it’s going to elicit in every man who sees you in it tonight…’

  His low husky voice mesmerised her. She’d never heard him speak like this let alone look at her in such a brazen way. She could usually handle the cool, serious, all-business Riley. Suave Riley had her in a mind-spinning dither!

  Eager to keep the mood light and feeling exceedingly out of her depth with this new flirty version of Riley—especially since he looked mouth-wateringly sexy in a designer tux—she said, ‘Strapless is in and purple’s all the rage at the moment. So if being trendy is evil, that’s me.’

  His eyes glittered with amusement as he offered her his elbow, a quaint old-fashioned gesture that somehow suited him. ‘There’s nothing remotely evil about you. Unless you count that mean streak that made me pick up every last horse dropping at the stable when any number of
hands could’ve done it. Shall we go in and have that pre-dinner drink?’

  She stiffened at his mention of a drink, an old habit she hadn’t been able to shake no matter how many times she watched the guys at work share a quiet beer or Brett offer his employees the finest champagne if any of his horses won a big race.

  ‘Maya?’

  Snapping back to the present, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. ‘Sorry. This is my first night out since Chas was born and I keep wondering how he is.’

  A semi-lie. She had constantly been thinking about her darling little boy and how he was. He’d never been apart from her at night before and, though he was comfortable with the nanny at the Goulds’ house—familiar surroundings to him—she couldn’t wait for tonight to be over. She wanted to pick him up and rush home, cocoon herself in her own environment, away from prying eyes and wagging tongues and people who had known Joe and found her lacking in every respect.

  How Cinderella had braved the masses, she’d never know.

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t you think you’re a tad overprotective of Chas?’ Riley led her to a cosy corner table overlooking the Yarra River and the sparkling city lights of Melbourne on the opposite bank. ‘He’s in safe hands in a place he feels secure. Why don’t you relax?’

  She snatched her hand away from its nestling place on his arm and plopped ungraciously into a low-slung chair, forgetting she wasn’t dressed for comfort until her satin bodice slid across her breasts, which had her making a frantic grab at it.

  ‘I don’t remember asking you for parenting advice,’ she said, her voice icy while she surreptitiously tugged the bodice up, knowing this dress had been a bad idea.

  ‘I’m not trying to give you parenting advice. You’re a great mum—anyone can see that—but I’m worried about you. You work long hours in a tough physical job and you spend your limited down time looking after a boisterous toddler.’

  He reached for her hand before thinking better of it and leaning back in his chair opposite. His recoil might’ve had something to do with her stiffly folded arms and rigid posture, not to mention the semi-growl simmering in the back of her throat like a lioness ready to tear apart anyone who threatened her cub.