Keeping His Secret: A Secret Baby Romance

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Keeping His Secret: A Secret Baby Romance Page 21

by Kira Blakely


  Adjourning to my room, I grabbed a quick shower and prepared to head downstairs to the Cabana bar to meet Brayden. All the while I was dressing, I was reliving our past and wondering if he’d changed. Even when we went together, we were different. Both wild, but in different ways. I dabbed a touch of my precious cologne between my breasts and told myself it was just good hygiene. I wore the low-cut white blouse with the pearl-stud earrings because the blouse was at the front of my closet. Yeah, right.

  Brayden had two older brothers, Cory and Collin. I didn’t know much about Cory, as he was several years older, but Collin was known to be trouble. Better looking than he deserved, he used women and wiped his feet on the last as he headed for the next. No one trusted him and yet his charm and good looks overcame many an objection. My parents had warned me to be cautious. They thought Collin and Brayden were two limbs of the same tree.

  I remembered their warning and added one of my own. I couldn’t afford to get my heart broken again. It had hurt too badly the last time, and this time, I had nowhere to go, no one to fall back on.

  I mentally repeated the warning to myself as the elevator door opened and Brayden stood there, checking his watch as he waited for me. His eyes twinkled and glowed in his tanned face. I knew I was in trouble.

  Chapter 4

  Brayden

  Although she was under-dressed by money standards, Harper looked magnificent to me. She was a little pale, not having been home long enough to acquire her tan yet. She wore a low-cut blouse and I got an eyeful, which was exactly the revival elixir I’d been hoping for. Her girls had always been my ultimate fascination and the standard by which the other women had been judged. Harper had them, hands down. Or, hands on, depending on how I chose to picture them.

  “You look fabulous,” I told her and her skin was pale enough that I detected her blush. “You make me want to bend you back and kiss you right here in the lobby.”

  “Don’t hold anything back, Bray, just speak your mind, why don’t you?”

  She’d been the only one I ever let get away with calling me “Bray.” It reminded me too much of a mule. Collin tried it once and even though he was older and bigger than I was, I’d punched him in the nose and he’d backed off.

  “I can see you still haven’t gotten in touch with your inner self,” I observed as I guided her toward the Cabana, my hand at the small of her back. She was considerably shorter, and I had to stoop a bit to keep it there.

  “And I can hear you still delight in tormenting me,” she popped back. Her head turned, and I caught a glimpse of those fiery green eyes. If she’d turned much more, she would have seen my crotch and I would have lost all advantage. Shit, but she could make me hard.

  I signaled Bert, the maître d, to take us to my table. I made a mental note to have a couple of tables removed, to leave more space in between. Harper was navigating them like a wave over sand, but I was feeling clumsy. Maybe it was her graceful body that gave me that impression. One thing was for sure. My obsession for her hadn’t diminished with time. If anything, I wanted her more than ever before.

  We sat with goblets of a rosé I’d been saving for a special occasion. Bert had set up a privacy screen. Too many people wandered over to say hello so they could claim a close relationship. I’d made a lot of friends over the years and most of them were wealthy or influential. Politics, entertainment, big business, tech; there was someone for everything I needed.

  “So, you own all this?” Harper was watching me, and I knew she knew who I was at my core. There was no need to try to impress her.

  I nodded and tried to look humble, but it wasn’t a look I did well. Women liked power and that had become my signature look.

  “How did you pull that off?” she asked in a voice that made me feel like I was in high school again.

  “I started small,” I said and we both choked a bit on our wine. I’d always teased her about being petite and had suggested I might be too big for her, sexually speaking. Those were the days when I was young and stupid, but she was a virgin, so she believed me. My offhand comment echoed in our memories. I tried to recover my fumbled words and started again.

  “A friend I met after high school was a partner in flipping a house. He hired me on and taught me a lot about the business. I finally put enough cash together to flip my own, and it just got bigger from there. Rinse and repeat, as they say.”

  “Do you still flip?”

  I tried to ignore her double entendre and recognized that she’d lost much of her innocence since I’d seen her last.

  “Do you?” I came back at her.

  “No, I still like boys.”

  I felt like an idiot and that was one place where I couldn’t afford that look. “C’mon, Harper. Are we going to be tit for tat all evening? Take your best shot. Tell me what an ass I was and how sorry I should be for moving on.”

  “Don’t have to. You just said it quite well.”

  I decided to change the subject. “So, how did you come by the job of nanny to someone like Bernadette? She doesn’t have as much class as you do in your little finger.”

  She laughed, and it sounded like bells. I remembered that laugh so well. “I wouldn’t know about her, but I do know that I needed a job, fast, and hers got me back home. Enough said.”

  “Hey, Harper, I was sorry to hear about your mom.” She nodded her thanks. “And your dad?” She just shrugged. That was enough said on that topic. I’d never cared for her dad much and after her mother died, the general gossip was that when Harper was out of state, he’d become a drunk and disappeared.

  “How about your family?” she asked politely.

  “Mom and Dad are fine, living in California.”

  “California? Why not stay here where it’s warmer?”

  “I don’t know. I guess maybe they needed to just be away.”

  “From…?”

  I looked down, arranging my words. I didn’t want to tell her everything. Not yet. It was still too soon.

  “Is it Collin?” she asked, sensing that the bad boy had grown unrulier with age.

  “Well, hell, he never was an angel. He pokes his head in when he needs something. In fact, he texted the other day and said he’d be coming for a visit in the next day or two.”

  “You won’t mind if I say I could do without seeing him?” She was trying to look sympathetic but talking about Collin was like talking about her father. There were some people better left undiscussed.

  “No, I don’t particularly look forward to seeing him myself, if you want the truth. But you never know and after Cory…”

  She sat up straight. Her hand slid across the table and her brow furrowed. I had flashbacks of that tiny hand and its soft, agile fingers that had fondled me. I snapped back as she asked, “What about Cory?”

  I could tell she hadn’t heard, but she had always been ultra-sensitive and knew me well.

  “Cory married Sylvia Barnham, do you remember her?”

  She nodded. “Sort of.”

  “They were skiing, Aspen, four years ago. Freak accident, the cable sheered and their lift chair fell. Both died on impact.”

  “Oh, my god, Brayden! I never heard! I’m so, so sorry.”

  I nodded and my heart was heavy. “Like I said, you just never know.”

  “I remember Cory as being very sweet.”

  “As opposed to me or Collin?” I was trying to lighten the mood.

  “Both of you,” she said without hesitation.

  “You ever going to let me out of that doghouse?”

  “Nope.”

  We both smiled at that, and she looked out the heavily-tinted windows toward the water. “It’s a nice life you’ve made for yourself here, Brayden.”

  “Thanks. It could have been better.”

  “How’s that?”

  “With you.”

  “You going to start that again? Look, Brayden, you were the one who walked away. Don’t forget that.”

  “You’re hardly likely to let
me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting prickly. The past was not a subject we could handle well – at least not yet.

  “Nothing,” I said and my gaze drifted to her open neckline. I could feel that soft flesh sandwiched around my dick, and I wanted to make a deposit between them. I looked up and she could see the desire on my face. It wasn’t making her happy, that much I could see.

  “You men are all alike,” she said, denouncing the male sex as a whole.

  “You men? Or just me?”

  “All of you. That smarmy little Ripley has his eyes on me already. I’m not sure Bernadette is aware or grateful, but she’s not doing anything to reel him in.”

  “Has he said anything?”

  “Just some slimy little remark about wanting to get to know me better. Bernadette just about wet her pants when she discovered you and I had known each other. I get the idea she thinks you could help Ripley’s career if you took an interest.”

  “Ha!” I blurted. “The world would be better off with a few less Ripleys in it. Anyway, I don’t know anything about the guy and if he was in a position to be in business with me, believe me, I’d know about him.”

  “When did you get to be so arrogant?” she asked plainly and my own words echoed in my head. She had a point.

  “Sorry. Just keep your distance from that asshole. He thinks he’s got the world by the tail. I don’t even think he earned his money.”

  “She says he inherited from a distant aunt.”

  “See there? He’s got no integrity,” I summarized him with my least flattering observation.

  “And you do?” She was staring at me straight on, her body stiff and unfriendly in her reminder of the ass I’d been.

  I turned the tables. “I suppose you’ve had your share of men in your life.” It was a conclusion I’d made, and I knew I’d intended it to hurt her.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why should I? Men can’t be trusted. I’ll do better on my own,” she declared and I felt as though she’d thrust a knife into my chest. The atmosphere that had so recently been warm and friendly had turned icy and distant. I didn’t like that new feeling and wanted away from it. I was glad we’d gotten to the bottom of the wine bottle.

  I signaled Bert, who came and moved the privacy screen. I stood up and went to pull out her seat but she’d beaten me to it. She was smoothing out the creases in her skirt and as I towered over that low-cut blouse, I felt a warning buzzer go off in my head. This one could have me if she wanted to. It wouldn’t take more than a crook of her tiny, white finger and I’d be at her knees, my hands parting that sweet pussy I’d dreamed about for so long.

  I walked to the elevator with her and when we emerged onto her floor, I stayed with her as we approached her room. I tried to wait until she was safely inside and then walk away, cool and unconcerned, but I couldn’t do it.

  “Damnit, Harper!” I pulled her against me and she didn’t pull away. She leaned into my chest, just as she’d done so many years earlier. I could smell the skin I remembered so well and then I kissed her, kissed the lips I’d remembered and felt the round body that filled me in all the right places. It was difficult to breathe without wanting her. I was having trouble maintaining perspective. “What if I come in so we can chat a little more?”

  She knew what I was asking. Her face was flushed, and her lips were swollen and rosy-ringed from my kiss. I knew, no, I begged the fates to tell me she was on the verge of taking me into her room.

  I was wrong. She whispered, but in a terse tone, “I said no then, and I’m saying no now. I’m worth so much more than that.”

  “It’s not like that,” I rasped, but she had already slid her key card through the lock. The door opened, and then she closed it in my face. The warmth of the moment was sucked from the energy around me. I felt abandoned, but there was no one who could take that away except the one woman with those emerald eyes and breasts upon which I longed to sleep. I looked like a rejected fool, standing in the hall of my own resort.

  “Damn! I fucked it up again!” I said aloud to myself and headed toward the elevator. I turned once when I thought I heard a click. I could have sworn it had come from her door but I must have heard it wrong. There was no one there. There was just empty space—more than enough to drown my heart.

  Chapter 5

  Harper

  I was awakened from my dreams with a shriek only inches from my ear.

  “What on earth?” I cried out, sitting upright. Dougie was hunched on the chair from the previous day, but not facing the corner. “What are you doing in my room?” I demanded. “You’ve scared the crap out of me and now my head feels ready to split. What are you doing here?”

  “Bernadette and Ripley always feel like that when they’ve been drunk all night, too. It’s morning,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “You’re on duty. Get up, and stop being lazy.”

  What had happened to the tamed boy I’d put to bed the previous night?

  My door opened and in walked Katie.

  “I want to play computer games,” she informed me.

  I was struggling to wake up properly. I’d been dreaming of Brayden, and the memory of his kiss still had the potency to send a shiver through me. The two living horrors in my room were intent on sucking the life from me. They sensed I wanted some time and opportunity to code, and their mission was to prevent that. More than that, I wanted to sit on Brayden’s lap and be petted and hear how sorry he was for throwing me aside. It was too much to bear, and I began to cry.

  “This is too hard,” I muttered and punched my pillow as tears formed in my eyes.

  “Don’t cry,” sympathized Katie.

  Dougie was less generous. “Stop crying, you stupid baby. Bernadette sent us to get you for breakfast. Find something decent to wear and come on,” he said over his shoulder as he left. I allowed myself to wonder briefly if I could plead insanity if I was tried as a murderess.

  Sighing, I threw back the covers and flipped on the shower to warm up while I brushed my teeth. When I left the bathroom, I found Katie still waiting on my bed. I really needed my privacy. “What do you want?” I asked her and her face crumbled. “What’s wrong?” I asked her, pulling on panties and a bra and trying to brush my hair at the same time.

  “I’m bored,” she whined and I rolled my eyes.

  “You’re privileged. You need to have a hobby or some sort of a chore. I’ll tell you what. Your new job every day is to make your bed and straighten your room.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why?”

  “Bernadette has people to do that,” she pointed out.

  “Maybe so, but you’re not learning to be responsible or how to have a chore that gives you a sense of accomplishment. That’s really important for how you see life from here on.”

  “What do you do?”

  Her questions were always pointed, always annoying. She badly needed a lesson in subtlety and empathy. “You mean besides watching you and Dougie?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, I’m building a website.”

  “So, you’re on the computer?” Somehow it sounded over-simplified when she said it.

  “Well, I suppose so, yes.”

  “You call that working? I do that every day.” She moved to sit in the center of my bed, kicking the blankets with the intent of pushing them into a heap on the floor. I decided she would make my bed each day as well, but knew there was staff who came in to do that.

  I pushed out a huge sigh and pulled on sandals. “Katie, you’re making me crazy. Let’s go to breakfast and we can talk about this later.”

  “When?”

  “When I say, okay?” My frustration level was almost maxed out and I could feel the cold rush of panic beginning in my stomach. I didn’t want anyone to know I had those episodes. They made me look weak.

  I motioned for the girl to precede me from the room, and I followed her into the primary suite,
where we joined the others for breakfast.

  Ripley was reading a paper. No Kindle addict there, I realized. I watched him from the corner of my eye and noticed he wasn’t the least bit interested in what he was reading. It was all a performance that made him feel like the head of the family. It also allowed him to shield his face from the others as he ogled my chest. My face was burning with anger.

  “Excuse me, Ripley, Bernadette mentioned that you were interested in getting to know Brayden Campbell?” I threw out the bait and sat back to wait. It didn’t take long.

  The paper dropped, and I saw an older version of Dougie’s face on Ripley. His lower lip opened, and he reminded me of Pavlov’s dog, waiting for his reward. “Why, yes! I would very much like that!” he blurted, much to my satisfaction. He’d given himself away. He was no more an old friend of Brayden’s than the man in the moon. He lacked the intelligence and initiative to do anything other than cling to people he thought were successful. It was pitiful to see, but I enjoyed it nevertheless.

  Bernadette almost dropped her cup of coffee as her mouth opened to protest, but a look from him silenced her immediately. Oh, my god! She was worse than him! She was wearing some awful green caftan and it had the effect of making her look like a black-haired bullfrog humped up on a rock, waiting for a fly. But I hadn’t finished with Ripley quite yet.

  “I had drinks with Brayden last evening,” I continued as I picked up a slice of toast and slowly spread butter on it. “In fact, he asked me about you.”

  “Oh? Really? What did he say?” Ripley was ready to wet his pants.

  I pursed my lips and frowned slightly, if dramatically. “Oh, Brayden doesn’t talk business to me. He holds his cards close to his chest.”

  Ripley’s face flashed toward Bernadette, a look of I told you so all over it.

  She smiled with encouragement and pride. “Of course, Brayden wouldn’t discuss business with a nanny,” she threw in, her tone condescending. If I’d been hot before that, she’d just lit the match.

  “Well, that may be so.” I threw her a weakened fly. “But I’ve known him long enough to say that when Brayden is intrigued by something or someone, he begins to ask around—you know, sort of see what others think of them? I’ve seen that before, just before he made a major move.”

 

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