Claiming the Captain's Baby

by Rochelle Alers

  * * *

  If Mya entertained doubts as to whether Giles would approve of her outfit, they vanished completely when she walked into the living room to find him waiting for her. He stared at her as if she was a stranger as he slowly rose to his feet. She held her hands out at her sides.

  “I hope I’m not overdressed.”

  Giles blinked once. “Oh my... I... I don’t,” he stuttered, seemingly unable to get the words out. He cleared his throat. “You are beyond perfection.”

  She’d chosen to wear a sleeveless, high-necked, midcalf, ruby-red, lace sheath dress with an attached black underslip. Black silk-covered, four-inch stilettos and an evening clutch completed her elegant look. A stylist had trimmed the ends of her curly hair just above her shoulders; each time she turned her head, the loose gold-streaked curls moved as if they’d taken on a life of their own.

  He headed toward her, and Mya recognized lust shimmering in the depths of his electric-blue eyes at the same time a shudder of awareness eddied through her. At that moment, she felt an intense physical awareness that was frightening and palpable.

  Giles leaned into her. “You smell and look good enough to eat.”

  Mya was helpless to stop the swath of heat that began in her face before slowly moving to her chest and even lower. She knew it had been a long time since she’d made love with a man, yet she did not know if she wanted that man to be Lily’s father. Not before she sorted out if what she was beginning to feel for him was love or simply a need that reminded her she was a woman who’d denied her femininity for far too long.

  “I think we’d better leave now before we’re late,” she lied smoothly. Mya knew if they lingered, then she would beg Giles to strip her naked, take her into the bedroom and make love to her.

  Giles picked up his jacket off a chair and slipped his arms into the sleeves, and then handed Mya her black cashmere shawl. He waited for her to wrap it around her shoulders before reaching for her hand and leading her out of the apartment and down the hall to the elevator.

  She averted her eyes as he continued to stare at her during the ride to the lobby. It was the first time since meeting Giles that she wasn’t as comfortable and confident with him, and she attributed her uneasiness to the realization that her pretense of keeping him at a distance was nothing more than a smoke screen for her true feelings: she was in love with Giles Wainwright.

  Although she had stopped thinking of him as her sister’s lover, Mya was still attempting to sort out if Giles wanted her for herself and not just because she was Lily’s mother. And whenever she thought about Sammie adding the codicil to the will, she wondered if her sister wanted her and Giles together because she probably knew how much family meant to him. Mya had witnessed for herself that the bond between the Wainwrights was strong and invincible. They’d embraced her as if she had given birth to Lily, and before Giles’s sister postponed her travel plans, Skye had been ready to drop everything to fly across the country to meet her niece.

  It was as if her life had come full circle: she had been adopted by a couple who had given her everything a child could want or need, and now years later, she had adopted a baby and she and Lily were now a part of a large family who would give her daughter everything she could want or need.

  “What are you thinking about?” Giles asked, once the car stopped at the lobby.

  “Lily.”

  “What about her?”

  “How blessed she is to have a big family.”

  Giles tucked Mya’s hand into the bend of his elbow as they exited the elevator car. “Her blessings came from Sammie sacrificing her life to give birth to a healthy baby, and the second from having you as her mother.”

  “You’re saying that because you’re biased.”

  “No, I’m not. Seeing you with Lily has allowed me to see women and mothers in particular in a whole new light.

  “Even though my mother grew up with nannies and live-in help, she didn’t want the same for her children because she claimed she saw her nanny more than her mother. I remember her and Dad arguing constantly about having a resident cook and live-in housekeeper. In the end, Mom compromised when she allowed for a cleaning service to come in twice a week to clean the townhouse. She claimed she felt uncomfortable with having strangers living in her home with her children.”

  “I agree with her,” Mya said. “Our house isn’t that big that I can’t maintain it.” Although the house where she’d grown up was larger than many of the homes in Wickham Falls, it wasn’t ostentatious. When her father hired an architect to design the house, he’d planned on having at least four children. The plans included two full baths, a half bath, five bedrooms that included the master bedroom on the main level with easy access to the veranda.

  Graham had insisted on woodburning fireplaces and window seats in every bedroom, and a fireplace in the living room. The architect had divided the downstairs space into three zones: the front for two formal rooms for entertaining and dining, to the rear was the family room and kitchen with an eating area off the outside porch, and the third was the main-floor master bedroom suite.

  Then there was the flower garden because Graham knew how much his bride-to-be loved tending her rose garden. He’d hired a landscape architect to create a garden on the one-acre property with flowers, trees, ornamental grasses and aromatic herbs. Every Saturday morning after breakfast, Veronica could be found in her garden, weeding and pruning her collection of hybrid roses. Now a landscaping crew came every week beginning in the spring to mow the grass and maintain the garden until early November when the flower beds were covered to protect them from wildlife foraging for food during the winter months.

  * * *

  Giles smiled when Mya said our house. It was apparent she had begun to think of them sharing a future where they would eventually live under one roof. “Our house is perfect for a couple with at least two or three kids. I’d like Lily to have a brother or sister before she turns two.”

  She shot him a questioning glance. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning for the next baby even before Lily begins walking.”

  Giles nodded to the doorman as he escorted Mya across the marble floor to the street. “I’m going to turn thirty-seven in February, and I don’t want to find myself out of breath running after a toddler when I’m forty-five.”

  “There are a lot of men who have kids in their forties and fifties.”

  “I’ll be fifty-five when Lily’s eighteen and by that time, I will have earned membership in the silver fox club. And I don’t want my six-year-old embarrassed when his friends ask if I’m his grandfather.”

  “How many kids do you plan to have? And have you selected the woman who will agree to bear your children?”

  Giles stopped in midstride, nearly causing Mya to trip and fall. He caught her, holding onto her arm to steady her. “Did you think I was thinking of someone other than you?

  She blinked slowly, reminding him of an owl. “I don’t know what to think, Giles. I can’t understand why you continue to make plans for us without talking to me first.”

  Giles felt properly reprimanded. He knew Mya was right because he hadn’t had to think of anyone else but himself until now. He was single-focused when it came to securing Lily’s future and he figured Mya would just go along with whatever he proposed. Unknowingly he had become his father, micromanaging Mya’s life and expecting her to agree with his decisions.

  He cradled her face between his hands. “I’m sorry, sweets. I’ve spent so many years doing what I want that it’s going to take some time for me include others in my decision-making.”

  Mya’s eyes clung to his. “You can make all of the decisions you want when you’re at your office, but at home you’re going to have to discuss things with me before we can compromise on anything that impacts our future.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I’m
not your boss.”

  “You think not,” Giles teased. He pressed a kiss on her fragrant curls. “Let’s go before we lose our table.”

  They continued to the corner and waited for the light to change. “I’m sorry, Giles.”

  Giles registered raw emotion in Mya’s apology. “What are you sorry about?”

  “I didn’t mean to bite your head off, but I don’t want you to forget that we’re not even engaged and meanwhile you’re talking about having more children. I’d believed I would raise Lily as a single mother. That I could be mother and father, but now I know I was deluding myself when I recall my own childhood. As a child, I loved coming home from school to find my mother in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. But the highlight of the night was when my father arrived because he’d open the door and yell in a perfect Ricky Ricardo imitation, ‘Honeys, I’m home.’ I thought he was just greeting my mother but he kept calling for his honeys. After a while, I knew he wanted me and Sammie, too. Then all of us would have a family hug and Daddy would say how much he loved his girls. That hug said more than words. It meant we were a family and nothing or no one could break that bond. That’s what I want for you, me and Lily.”

  “And that’s what we’ll have. A bond that will last all of our lives.” An expression of triumph and satisfaction showed in Giles’s eyes.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mya, holding onto Giles’s hand, slowly made her way down a flight of stairs to Dewey’s Hideaway, a below-street-level restaurant. She didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t the grotto-like eating establishment with the only illumination coming from a woodburning fireplace, a backlit indoor waterfall, dimmed recessed lights and the candles on nearly two dozen tables positioned close together to maximize space. Most of the tables were filled with diners, as the soft sound of the pianist playing show tunes competed with conversations and the distinctive rattling of serving pieces and plates.

  “How did you find this place?” she whispered to Giles when she saw the hostess coming in their direction.

  “A friend owns it.” Giles smiled at the young woman with neatly braided hair. “I have a reservation for two. The name is Giles Wainwright.”

  Picking up two menus, she lowered her eyes, then stared up at him through eyelash extensions. “Please come this way.”

  Mya didn’t miss the flirtatious glance the woman directed at Giles. She seated them at a table not far from where a gleaming black concert piano sat on a raised platform. The hostess removed the Reserved sign from the table and walked away with an exaggerated roll of generous hips.

  “How often do you come here?” Mya asked, as she folded her shawl over the back of her chair.

  “Not often enough,” answered a deep baritone.

  Her head popped up while Giles came to his feet. She stared at a tall black man with a black bandana covering his head, chef’s jacket and black pinstriped pants with Dewey’s Hideaway and D. Dewey, Executive Chef stitched on the tunic over his heart. Giles and Dewey thumped each other’s back in greeting. Mya found herself smiling when the two men began talking at once.

  “I didn’t want to believe it when my sister told me G. Wainwright made a reservation for two.”

  Giles pumped Dewey’s hand. “Who did you think it was?”

  “Your brother Patrick. When he calls to make a reservation, he identifies himself as P. Wainwright. He and his wife eat here at least once a month. She likes our mac and cheese with truffle oil.” He winked at Mya. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your beautiful lady?”

  Cupping Mya’s elbow, Giles helped her come to her feet. “Darling, this is Darryl Dewey, proprietor, chef and all-around good guy. Dewey, Ms. Mya Lawson.”

  Mya extended her hand to the handsome man with a complexion reminiscent of whipped chocolate mousse. The skin around his dark eyes crinkled in a perpetual smile. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Dewey.”

  Dewey kissed the back of her hand. “No, Mya. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” His eyes lingered on her left hand. “I don’t know if your fiancé told you, but we go way back as far as the first grade.”

  “No, he didn’t, but I’m certain he’s going to fill me in,” she replied. It was apparent Dewey thought the ring was an engagement ring.

  “You guys can order on or off menu.” He pounded Giles’s shoulder. “I have to get back to the kitchen because we’re down one chef tonight. I have your number, so I’ll be in touch.”

  Mya sat down again. “Please don’t tell me you two spent more time in the principal’s office than you did in the classroom?”

  Giles shifted his chair until they were seated side by side. “Wrong, sweets. Although we were best friends, we were also very competitive when it came to grades. When we graduated, Dewey’s GPA beat me by one-tenth of one percent. He enrolled in New York University as a business major and, after graduating, went into investment banking. Dewey said although he made tons of money he hated it because his real passion was cooking. One day, he walked away from his six-figure salary and applied to the Culinary Institute of America to become a chef. He bought this place two years ago and now he’s living out his dream.”

  Mya placed her hand over Giles’s. “Are you living out your dream?”

  A mysterious smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I am. Before I met you, my sole focus was on work, and the harder I worked, the more I was able to convince myself that I didn’t need or want anyone to share my life.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Meeting you has proven me wrong. Not only do I want you but I also need you.”

  Mya closed her eyes, too stunned to cry. Men had told they needed her, but they were glibly spoken words they believed she wanted to hear. She felt his hand shake slightly under hers and in that instant she was aware of the power she wielded over Giles. That he’d shown her vulnerability for the first time.

  “I need you, too.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I need you to love and protect me and our daughter. When you go away on business, I’ll be counting down the days until you return. And I want every subsequent homecoming to be as special as the first one. I know you want more children, but I want to wait and give Lily time to experience being an only child. I also need to warn you that I can be stubborn when—”

  “Enough, Mya,” Giles admonished softly. “You don’t have to try and convince me that you’re not perfect because no one is.”

  “Not even you?” she teased.

  “Above all, not me.” Cradling her jaw, he brushed a kiss over her mouth. “And I’ll try and make certain every homecoming is more special than the one before it. We’ll talk about you, me and Lily when we get home.”

  She nodded. “Speaking of home, I’d like to suggest you give up your hotels and move in with your fiancée and daughter so we can begin living as a family. I’ll fix up one of the bedrooms for you.”

  Giles pulled back, his features deceptively composed. “Are you serious?”

  A slight smile softened her lips. “Very serious. You no longer need your love shack and you can stop polluting the environment driving between your hotel and Wickham Falls.”

  “Consider it done.” Giles shifted his chair to sit opposite her, while resisting the urge to pump his fist. It was obvious Mya was willing to consider sharing her life and future with him. He did not tell her that he hadn’t renewed the Chelsea hotel suite reservation for the month of October. Once he discovered he’d become a father, he realized he couldn’t continue to have sex with arbitrary women to slake his sexual frustration. It had become a wake-up call that not only had his life changed, but he had to change.

  Some of the guys with whom he’d attended college had planned to marry their girlfriends and start a family. They found it odd that he never mentioned having a special woman or marriage. At the time, giving up his bachelor status had not been an option. He had not wanted to be responsible for anyone but himself. Howe
ver, fate had a way of altering his well-ordered lifestyle when he unknowingly became a father. Even the best-laid plans were known to go awry.

  The spell that Mya had unknowingly woven wrapped him in a cocoon of peace. The newfound joy was shattered when a waiter came to take their drink order.

  It was as if any and every other woman Giles had dated ceased to exist as he shared nearly ninety minutes of eating, talking and listening to live music. The four-course meal began with a toast to her latest novel and followed with a salad of bitter chicories paired with crisp lardoons, toasted pine nuts and crumbled feta tossed with red wine vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil; the salad was followed with an appetizer of baked clams and entrées of marinated grilled skirt steak and shrimp scampi with side dishes of macaroni and cheese and linguine with garlic and oil. Their waiter had suggested sparkling white peach sangria as a cocktail, which had become an excellent complement for the expertly prepared dishes.

  “Are you under the influence?” Giles asked Mya after she’d drained her wineglass. He noticed she did not take a sip of the wine concoction until after she’d finished the first two courses.

  She smiled and the flame from the flickering votive cast flattering shadows over her delicate features and highlighted her hazel eyes with a golden glow. “Surprisingly, no. Maybe it’s because I ate first.” She touched the napkin to the corners of her mouth. “I see why your sister-in-law orders the mac and cheese. It’s insanely delicious.”

  Giles wanted to tell Mya that she was insanely beautiful in red. Her palomino-gold skin reminded him of liquid gold, and his mother had chosen wisely when she gave Mya the ruby and diamond ring. As a young boy, he would watch his mother go through the jewelry she had inherited from her grandmother and meticulously select what she wanted to wear for a luncheon with her friends or a formal event with her husband. He remembered his elderly grandmother telling him that while some women in her social circle collected wealthy husbands, she preferred priceless jewels. He wondered if Mya would continue the tradition of giving the ring to their granddaughter.