Claiming the Captain's Baby

by Rochelle Alers

  “How about another dance?”

  “Dude, how about finding another woman to dance with.” Mya turned to find Giles glaring at the man. “Move along,” he added when her dance partner hesitated and then walked away.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Mya asked between clenched teeth. “Have you gone and lost your mind?”

  The coldness in Giles’s eyes reminded her of chipped ice. “You have the audacity to ask me what’s wrong when I’m forced to watch you disrespect me when you flirt with every man salivating over your chest.”

  “Disrespect! You have a nerve to talk to me about—”

  Giles’s fingers curled around her upper arm. “Come with me. We don’t need to air our problems in front of everyone.”

  “Problems? I don’t have a problem. You’re the one with the problem,” she said as they wove their way through the throng and out of the ballroom. Mya followed Giles to an area near the elevator. She was too angry to acknowledge he looked magnificent in formalwear.

  Holding onto her shoulders, Giles gave her a death-stare. “What the hell was that back there?”

  “Nothing!” she spat out. “A couple of men asked me to dance and I saw nothing wrong with dancing with them. Now if you’re going to go off every time I talk to a man, then I don’t think we should be together.”

  “What do you mean that I’m the one with the problem?”

  “You have a problem being truthful, and I’m angry with myself because I allowed you to lure me into a trap where you can get legal custody of Lily and change her name by marrying me.”

  “If you hadn’t shut me out I would’ve told you about my conversation with my cousin. I was talking to Jordan about setting up a trust fund for our daughter.”

  Mya blinked as if coming out of a trance. “She doesn’t need a trust fund because I’ve set aside monies for her future.”

  “Why is it always what you want for Lily, Mya? Can’t you just this once include me in the equation. Lily’s not only your daughter but our daughter. I know I can get ahead of myself when it comes to planning her future, but from now on I again promise to talk to you first before making any decision about her.”

  Mya smile mirrored relief. Giles wasn’t planning to change Lily’s name. “And I’ll be certain to remind you of that in case you forget.”

  “You can do anything you want to me, but promise me you won’t shut me out again.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “While you’re thinking about it I need to do this.” Giles lowered his head and brushed a light kiss over her mouth.

  She bit down on her lip as she fought back tears. “I’m sorry, babe, for not trusting you.” She took a step and curved her arms around his inside his tuxedo jacket. “Can you forgive me?”

  Giles cradled her chin, his eyes making love to her. “Of course I forgive you. But can you forgive me for going Neanderthal on you?”

  “Yes. Now kiss me again before we go back.”

  Giles needed no further urging when he lifted Mya off her feet and kissed her with all the passion he could summon for the woman who’d stolen his heart. “What do you say we go upstairs and have a quickie before everyone rings in the New Year?”

  Mya shook her head. “Don’t you ever get enough?”

  Throwing back his head, Giles laughed loudly. Before their heated confrontation, they had made love nearly every night. “As long as I can get it up, I’ll never get enough.”

  Mya looped her arms through his. “Let’s go back before folks come looking for us.” Midnight would signal a new year where she could look forward to marrying a man who had promised to love and protect her and their daughter all the days of their lives.

  * * *

  Eighteen months had sped by quickly and Mya would celebrate not only her birthday but also her wedding day. She’d chosen Giles’s sister Skye to be her maid of honor and Aziza and an obviously pregnant Ciara as her attendants. Giles had selected Jordan as his best man and Brandt and his brother Patrick as his groomsmen.

  Mya had asked her future father-in-law to give her away and he appeared visibly overcome with emotion when he nodded mutely. The weather had cooperated. Bright sunshine and afternoon temperatures were perfect for a garden wedding.

  She touched the diamond necklace Giles had given her for a wedding present following the rehearsal dinner.

  The owners of Signature Brides had arrived two days ago to make certain the tent was scheduled to be up for the ceremony and coordinate with the hotel’s banquet manager for the reception. There had been a steady stream of Wainwrights checking into the hotel over the past three days. Some of the men were talking about returning in the fall to go hunting. A few of her colleagues from college were also in attendance.

  She adjusted the flowing skirt of her gown with white lace appliqued flowers and a trailing train. A pale pink belt with silk roses matched the underslip. In lieu of a veil, she had selected to wear pink and white rosebuds in the chignon on the nape of her neck.

  The string quartet played a Mozart concerto as Skye, Aziza and Ciara processed down the white carpet with their partners. The entire assembly under the tent rose to their feet with the familiar strains of the “Wedding March.”

  Mya and Pat shared a smile before she turned her attention to the man waiting to make her his wife. She was smiling from ear to ear when he winked at her. She counted the steps that would take her to his side. He reached for her hand even before the judge asked, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

  “I do,” Patrick announced loudly, as a ripple of laughter came from those under the tent.

  Mya did not remember repeating her vows or when Giles placed a wedding band on her finger. However, she did recall his long and passionate kiss when the judge told him he could kiss his wife.

  When they turned to face those who’d come to witness their nuptials, Mya smiled at Lily who squirmed to escape Amanda’s hold. “Daddy!” she screamed, extending her arms for Giles to take her.

  Not only was she walking but she was also talking. A photographer and videographer captured the image of Giles holding his daughter while he curved an arm around his wife’s waist. He had given Mya the necklace for a wedding gift, while she’d handed him a gaily wrapped box with a copy of Lily’s birth certificate with a note that it was time to amend the certificate so their daughter could legally become Lily Hope Wainwright.

  * * *

  When Giles had walked into the lawyer’s office what now seemed eons ago, he never knew how his life would change. It was better than he could have ever imagined. He’d claimed his baby and a woman whose love promised forever.

  * * * * *

  Return to Wickham Falls in the next

  small-town love story by Rochelle Alers,

  available May 2018

  from Harlequin Special Edition.

  And don’t miss the first book in the

  WICKHAM FALLS WEDDINGS miniseries:

  HOME TO WICKHAM FALLS

  Out now!

  For more of the Wainwrights, check out

  Rochelle Alers’s THE WAINWRIGHT LEGACY:

  BECAUSE OF YOU

  (Jordan’s story)

  HERE I AM

  (Brandt’s story)

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE RANCHER AND THE CITY GIRL by Kathy Douglass.

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  The Rancher and the City Girl

  by Kathy Douglass

  Chapter One

  Go somewhere no one will look for you. The words of warning echoed through Camille Parker’s head as she sped down the rapidly darkening country road. It curved suddenly, and she almost lost control of the car. Cursing under her breath, she eased up on the accelerator and jerked the wheel, steering back onto the asphalt. They wouldn’t have to kill her if she did it herself.

  Slowing, she began looking for a mailbox. She had to be close by now. Finally she spotted a driveway flanked by two large trees. She stopped next to the mailbox, hoping to find a name and not just the street number. Luckily, she made out “Jericho and Jeanette Jones” in red letters on the metal box. Despite her anxiety, her heart squeezed at the sight of her former friend’s name. How she had missed Jeanette. She always would.

  Camille knew no one had followed her from New York, yet she still checked her rearview mirror. Convinced that she was alone on the isolated lane, she turned into the long, winding crushed-rock driveway, driving as fast as she dared. She didn’t want to lose control of the car again when she was this close to safety.

  And what if Jericho didn’t let her in? He hated her. And she hated him. She’d never used the term “sworn enemies” before, but it described their relationship more accurately than other words could.

  Not only had he convinced Jeanette to break off her engagement to Camille’s brother and marry him instead, he’d brought Jeanette out here to the middle of nowhere and let her die. Camille’s eyes filled with tears as she recalled finding out about Jeanette’s death in the obituary section of their high school’s alumni newsletter. Just one more reason to hate Jericho.

  The two-story house appeared around a bend, and she slowed the car, stopping as close to the building as possible. She opened the door and heaved a heavy sigh. Her heart beat hard against the walls of her chest as doubt once more assaulted her.

  What if he didn’t take her in?

  She shoved aside that worry and tried again to silence the fear that had gripped her since she’d overheard her boss, Donald Wilcox, instructing someone to get rid of her and make it look like an accident. When she’d reached out in a panic to Rafael Delgado, her contact with the FBI, she discovered he was comatose after being in a car accident. That was when she’d run. At this point, she didn’t know whom she could trust. That’s why she needed to disappear for a while.

  She couldn’t go to her parents or her brother in Chicago. No doubt that would be the first place the killers would look. And they could easily discover the identities of the friends she’d made in New York, many of whom worked at the Wall Street firm with her, and those she’d left behind in Chicago. So their homes were off-limits, as well. She wouldn’t put her family or friends at risk by seeking refuge with them. She had to go somewhere no one knew about or would ever think to look for her.

  The Double J Ranch was just such a place. She and Jericho hadn’t spoken civil words to each other in more than five years. More important, she hadn’t spoken about him to anyone at the financial firm where she worked. No one in the New York banking circles would ever connect her to a horse rancher in North Carolina. The nearest town, Sweet Briar, was located almost an hour away on the ocean, so the ranch had the added bonus of being isolated. She’d be safe here. If he’d let her stay.

  Her stomach seized as she considered the possibility that he might slam the door in her face. She couldn’t let that happen. He was her last—no, her only—hope.

  She couldn’t risk using her credit cards or accessing her bank accounts once she’d left New York because even she knew she could be found that way. She’d been so rattled she hadn’t given a thought to stopping at an ATM until she was well on her way to North Carolina. Then it was too late. After paying cash for her hotel room last night, she had only the $300 she always kept in her purse. Who would have thought she’d need to use her emergency funds in an actual emergency and not one that involved shopping? And who knew how long she would need to make this money last?

  Grabbing her purse, she jumped from the car, then raced up the short flight of stairs. She rang the doorbell several times, and a dog began barking. She heard scratching against the door as the barking grew louder and then stopped. She waited but heard no other sound. The urge to pound on the door nearly overcame her, but she pressed the doorbell for several long seconds instead. The barking started up again, but that’s all she heard.

  She didn’t know anything about ranching. Would Jericho be in the house now, or out in the barn? Was the barn near the house? And what if he wasn’t here at all?

  She hadn’t called to let him know she was coming. She couldn’t. She didn’t know his phone number. Not only that, she’d smashed and then discarded her cell phone, scattering the pieces along several New York streets so she couldn’t be traced. That might have been overkill, but she’d rather be safe than sorry. She’d never had people trying to kill her before, so the only thing she knew to do was what she’d seen in movies.

  She raised a fist to pound on the door, but it was suddenly wrenched open. She lost her balance and fell against the man inside. He steadied her but not before she got a whiff of his masculine scent. Despite the terror that had been nipping at her heels for a day and a half, some tiny part of her was aware of just how good he smelled. The scent of pine and leather mixed in with a hint of soap clung to his skin. More than that, he smelled of safety and security. Like home.

  He set her away from him none too gently, and she banished the ridiculous thought from her mind before it could take root. Telling herself to buck up, she raised her head and looked into deep brown eyes. Shock flashed in them briefly before being replaced by anger and hatred, finally landing on ice.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Jericho’s deep voice was even colder than his eyes. No surprise there.

  “I said, why are you here?” His hard voice cut through her musings, bringing her fear to the fore.

  “I need somewhere to stay.”

  He leaned in closer, and she realized that although her lips had moved, her voice had been a mere squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I need somewhere to stay.”

  His eyes narrowed and he backed away. She wasn’t sure whether he was inviting her in or planning to close the door in her face. Moving quickly, she stepped inside. A black Lab sat on its haunches several feet away, its tail thumping against the floor.

  “Why?” He shook his head. “Never mind why. I don’t care. I’m just surprised you believe you’re going to stay here with me. As I recall you think this ranch is a worn-down piece of dirt in the middle of nowhere. And I’m just a farmer looking to hook up with a rich woman to support me. Those are your words, aren’t they?”

  Camille cringed but didn’t look away from the fury in his eyes
. She’d said those very words five years ago when Jeanette had confided she was ending her engagement to Camille’s brother and running off to Las Vegas with Jericho. Amazingly, he had quoted her verbatim.

  He stepped around her and grabbed the doorknob. Unless she spoke fast and explained her predicament, she’d be on the other side of that door with nowhere to go before another minute passed. Three hundred dollars wouldn’t last long.

  She put a hand on his arm. He had to listen to her. A hot jolt of electricity shot through her, and she yanked her hand away before her fingers were singed. What in the world was that? “Please. You have to let me stay here.” She heard the rising hysteria in her voice and clamped down on it. She’d never convince him if she lost her head.

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  His hand twisted the knob.

  “Please, Jericho. Don’t send me away. You’re the only person I can turn to. People are trying to kill me. If they find me, I’m dead.”

  * * *

  Someone was trying to kill her? Right. Surely she could do better than that. After all, this was the same woman who’d bribed her way into his Chicago hotel room barely an hour before he was set to fly to Las Vegas and marry Jeanette. He’d never forget how he’d emerged from the shower to find Camille sprawled across his bed wearing a sexy little nothing. He didn’t know what game she’d been playing, but he hadn’t been interested. He’d never told Jeanette what Camille had done. He couldn’t hurt Jeanette that way. She’d gone to her grave naively believing Camille Parker was worthy of her friendship. He knew better.

  “Nice try, Camille. But I’m not buying it. Go play your games with someone else.”

  “It’s not a game,” she screeched, wild-eyed. “If you make me leave, they’ll kill me.”

  Jericho released the knob and took a closer look at the woman in front of him. The haughty expression she’d worn like other women wore a favorite lipstick was missing. Now, rather than curling her lips in disdain, she mercilessly nibbled away at them.