The Secret Baby: The Sinful Secrets Series (Book #3)

by Day Leclaire

He flashed a dangerous smile. “In time.”

  With a small exclamation of frustration, she started from the car. He reached out just as she passed, his fingers brushing her cheek. “Still like silk,” he murmured.

  She pulled back sharply, stepping into the hallway outside the elevator. “Don’t do that!” She hated the mocking humor that lit his eyes and the way he shook his head in mild reproof.

  “That isn’t what you used to say,” he murmured. “You used to beg for my touch.”

  She stared at him in disbelief, her black eyes huge and wounded. Cruelty had never been part of his nature. But then, she didn’t know this Damien. Not anymore. Gathering the shreds of her dignity, she lifted her chin. Well, he didn’t know her either. Five years had changed them both.

  “Thank you for the reminder,” she said with gentle irony. “I’ve made a point of learning from my past mistakes since we parted.”

  “As have I.” His voice dropped, but she heard every harsh word as though he’d shouted. “And you were a big mistake, weren’t you, Sable? I’d have been better off embracing an adder. But the time’s come to correct past errors.”

  “Meaning?” she demanded.

  “Meaning that you’re going down. And I’m going to drag you there every hellish step of the way.”

  That said, he stepped back into the car, leaving her to stare in shocked disbelief as the doors silently closed between them. How long she stood there she didn’t know. It wasn’t until her administrative assistant touched her arm that she awoke to her surroundings.

  “Mrs. Caldwell? Are you all right?” Janine asked in concern.

  Sable blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re so pale. And look. You’ve dropped your briefcase.”

  Glancing down in confusion, Sable saw that the black case had slipped from her numb fingers and lay drunkenly on its side. “Thank you, Janine,” she murmured, stooping to pick up the briefcase. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” her admin persisted. “You don’t look fine. You look ill.”

  Sable sighed. Janine had been her husband, Leonard’s secretary. After his death, she’d been offered a promotion, but insisted she’d be of more service working with Sable as an administrative assistant, helping in her struggle to gain control of the business and solve the problems of a company on the skids. Though Janine never unbent sufficiently to use Sable’s first name she took a proprietorial interest in all aspects of Caldwell’s, including her employer’s well-being.

  “Thank you, but I’m all right now,” Sable said, a hint of reserve coloring her tone. As much as she appreciated Janine’s concern, she wasn’t in the mood to field the older woman’s questions. “Do you have my notes prepared for the board meeting?” she asked, steering the conversation into safer channels.

  Janine’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t press the issue. “Yes, Mrs. Caldwell. They’re on your desk.”

  Sable forced her mind to business matters, grateful for the need to concentrate and push every other consideration to the back of her mind. “I have a file full of correspondence to go out today. I’d appreciate it if you’d give that top priority. Is Patricia in yet?” At the lack of an immediate response, Sable raised an eyebrow in question. “Janine?”

  “Why, no, Mrs. Caldwell. She isn’t.”

  That was a surprise. For all Patricia’s faults, her sister-in-law always arrived early to work. “Is it possible she’s forgotten the board meeting is today?”

  “I very much doubt it,” Janine replied. “I reminded her of it myself. Will there be anything else?”

  “Nothing for now, thank you. Start on those letters if you will,” Sable replied, opening the door to her office. “I’d like to review my notes before the meeting, so hold all my calls, please.”

  “Even if it’s Ms. Trainer?”

  Sable turned, a small frown creasing her brow. “My request never includes her. You know that.” It was an inviolate rule that Kyle’s nanny could interrupt any time, any place. Why would Janine think that had changed?

  The admin gave a small shrug. “My mistake.”

  “That’s all right.” More than anything Sable wanted to escape into her office before the last vestiges of her strength ebbed completely away. Instead, she forced herself to stand patiently and offer an encouraging smile. After all, Janine was a valued employee. She shouldn’t take the fallout for Damien’s actions. “I appreciate your checking. Is there anything else you need to discuss with me?”

  “No. I’ll get right to work on the correspondence.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  With a sigh of relief, Sable shut the door between her office and the reception area. Leaning against the sturdy oak panel, her head drooped like a flower on a broken stem. Here it was, only eight-thirty in the morning, and already exhaustion gripped her. Still ahead lay the board meeting—always a stressful occasion—not to mention discovering the purpose behind Damien’s visit.

  She glanced across the room toward Patricia’s office. The door that separated them remained shut, not even the acrid stench of cigarette smoke seeping past the sturdy barrier. It was a wonder no one had reported her for breaking the stringent no-smoking laws. The lack of cigarette smoke was unusual enough, a convincing testimony to Patricia’s absence. Had she decided to boycott the meeting? It was a distinct possibility. Her sister-in-law hadn’t taken kindly to being stripped of the chairmanship last month. If she could find a way to cause trouble, she’d do it.

  With a sigh, Sable straightened and headed for the private bathroom that adjoined her office. Once there, she stared in the mirror over the sink for a long moment. Janine was right. She did look ill. All color had fled her face, leaving her cheeks ashen, her pallor intensified by the cloud of unruly ebony curls that had escaped the formal knot at the nape of her neck. Worst of all, her dark eyes were like two huge, bruised smudges, betraying all too clearly her vulnerability.

  If Damien had seen her like this, he’d be after her like a shark on a blood trail. And he’d be just as brutal and merciless. Not wasting another minute, she opened a drawer in the built-in vanity and removed a cosmetics case. Applying blush and shadow with a practiced hand, she managed to conceal most of the outer traces of her distress. A final touch of rose-toned lipstick added the perfect amount of color to her face.

  Turning her attention to her hair, she pulled out the pins that anchored it in place. Heavy curls fell in an unruly mass past her shoulders, effectively destroying the image of the über-competent executive. But not for long. A bit of water and a brisk brushing helped tame the more stubborn strands and she swiftly arranged her hair into a tight, formal knot.

  Sparing a swift glance at her watch, she groaned in dismay. She had precisely twenty minutes to get organized. Hurrying to her desk, she sat down and flipped open the file Janine had prepared. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on her notes she couldn’t stop her treacherous thoughts from centering on Damien and how his return would change her life.

  Turning her chair to face the window, she stared out at the San Francisco skyline. Why had he come back? Why now, after all this time? She closed her eyes, rubbing a weary hand across her brow. She had a thousand questions and only Damien had the answers. Knowing him, she wouldn’t like those answers one little bit.

  The moments before the start of the board meeting seemed like some horrible replay of her experience that morning in the elevator. Sable stood at the buffet with her back to the conference room, pouring a cup of coffee from a heavy silver carafe. The sudden thread of alarm that snaked along her spine caught her completely by surprise. Once again she felt the ominous clenching of her muscles, the swift, uncontrollable touch of desire bringing all her senses to full flower. And in that instant she knew he had returned.

  Cornelius Becker, the board’s oldest member, approached. “Who just walked in?” he demanded querulously. “That man over there by the door. Doesn’t he know executive sessions are closed to general members?”


  Giving herself time to school her features into a composed mask, she returned the carafe to the table and added cream to her coffee. She turned slowly, certain of whom she’d see. Sure enough, standing in comfortable solitude, his mantle of authority absolute, was Damien. His gaze met hers from across the room, his brilliant green eyes alive with passionate secrets.

  “That’s Damien Hawke,” she said quietly, and took a quick, restorative sip of coffee.

  “The Damien Hawke?” Cornelius sounded impressed. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, her response sounding short to the point of rudeness. To her relief, Cornelius didn’t appear to notice.

  “I’ve wanted to meet him for quite some time now. Hawke is a brilliant businessman, positively brilliant.” He chuckled, his eyes inquisitive beneath his bushy brows. “But then, if you know him, you’re already aware of that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, hoping the reluctance in her voice wasn’t too apparent. “I am.”

  “Introduce me, my dear.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I’m curious to know why he’s here.”

  A dozen excuses leapt to her lips, but she didn’t voice a single one. Instead she returned her cup and saucer to the buffet table and walked with Cornelius across the room. He’d been her chief advocate when Patricia had fought to oust her from the board after Leonard’s death a year ago. Without his backing, Sable would have lost everything. He’d also been the one to recommend her for the chairmanship in Patricia’s stead when their business situation had worsened. His request was a small price to pay. Besides, she could handle a simple introduction, couldn’t she?

  She stopped directly in front of Damien, aware of the challenge in his eyes. Did he think he could cow her with one of his infamous looks of intimidation? He had a lot to learn. “Cornelius, I’d like to introduce you to Damien Hawke. Damien, this is Cornelius Becker, one of our senior board members.”

  The two men shook hands. “I’m surprised to see Caldwell’s biggest competitor at our board meeting,” Cornelius said. “Do you own stock in Caldwell’s?”

  Damien folded his arms across his chest. “Yes. I do.”

  Sable couldn’t conceal her shock. Her gaze flashed to Damien’s. “A recent acquisition?” she asked, amazed that her voice came out as steady as it did.

  “Very recent,” he confirmed.

  “You are aware that this is an executive session of the board?” Cornelius questioned. “I’m afraid it’s closed to common shareholders.”

  “But then, I’m not a common shareholder,” Damien stated gently. “And if there are no objections I’d like to address the board before the meeting.”

  Cornelius frowned. “Your request is highly unusual,” he observed. “The decision will have to be Sable’s.”

  Damien’s expression didn’t change. He glanced at her. “Do you have any objection?”

  He wasn’t surprised that the final decision would be hers, she realized, which meant he’d known all along that she was the chairwoman. And in that instant, true fear gripped her. Nothing that had happened so far today had been an accident. He had a purpose in coming. If she hadn’t been so thrown by the shock of seeing him in the elevator, she’d have figured that out sooner. He’d wanted her off-balance because it gave him the advantage.

  The question remained… Her distraction gave him the advantage to do what?

  “What are you up to, Damien?” she demanded. “You never do anything without a game plan.” She’d learned that crucial lesson during the four years she’d worked for him. And, more often than not, by the time his competitor realized what that game plan might be, it was far too late. Apprehension gripped her. Could that be the case this time? Was she too late to alter his scheme?

  A lazy smile tugged at his mouth. “Finally catching on?” he asked. “You never used to be so slow. Or perhaps you’ve just grown complacent. Not wise in today’s business world.” His smile died. “Not wise at all when you have competitors waiting to pounce on your most insignificant error.”

  There was no mistaking the threat. It took every scrap of composure to turn to Cornelius and force out a light laugh. “I’ve been rude to our guest. I’ve neglected to offer Mr. Hawke some coffee. I don’t suppose . . . ?”

  “Allow me, my dear,” Cornelius suggested with alacrity. “How do you take it, Mr. Hawke?”

  “Make it Damien,” he replied. “And I prefer my coffee like most things in life.” His gaze locked with Sable’s, his words directed at her every bit as much as at Cornelius. “Straight up and uncorrupted.”

  “Black it is,” Cornelius said with a chuckle. “And why don’t I bring you another cup, Sable? Half coffee and half cream, right?”

  “That’s very kind of you,” she murmured.

  “My pleasure,” he replied, and crossed the room to join the other board members milling around the buffet table.

  “You’re as charming as always,” Damien said the instant the older man had moved out of earshot. “But then, that’s your specialty, isn’t it?”

  “What is? Charm?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow in question.

  “Charming old men, to be precise.”

  She sucked in her breath, hot color blossoming across her cheekbones. “How dare you?” she whispered.

  He released a short, dry laugh. “Why act so insulted? Your charm was a talent you used while working for me. A talent you used to hook a husband old enough to be your father. And a talent you continue to use, if Cornelius Becker’s reaction is the norm.”

  She refused to dignify his comment with a response. There wasn’t any point. He’d think what he chose, no matter what she said. “What’s going on?” she questioned instead. “What do you want, Damien?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Wasn’t my request clear enough for you? I want to address the board.”

  Her hands balled into fists. “That’s not what I’m referring to and you know it. It’s been five years. If you’re here, it’s to cause trouble. Why now, after all this time?”

  He leaned closer, his voice low and intimate. “Some things take time. Depending on what they are, it can even be worth the wait.” His eyes darkened, the intense green as cold and turbulent as a mountain stream. “Especially when it comes to revenge.”

  “You had your revenge, remember?” she responded tautly. “You fired me and then blackballed me with every business in town. That’s excessive even by your standards.”

  “I didn’t blackball you. I didn’t have to. The other construction firms knew what you were without my saying a word, and they avoided you like the plague. My mistake was in not figuring out the truth sooner.” He grabbed her wrist, yanking her close. “I allowed myself to be seduced by your big black eyes and soft white skin. But that won’t happen again. You can count on it.”

  She drew in a panicked breath at his touch, helpless to prevent the sharp, uncontrollable desire that rocketed through her. Did he know? Did he sense her reaction?

  She searched his face. Of course he did. The amused curve of his lips and knowing gleam in his eyes told her as much. Damn him! “Let go of me, Damien,” she ordered in an icy voice, drawing back as far as he’d permit.

  His grip tightened, and he forced her toward him again until their thighs met, his open suit coat brushing lightly across her breasts. “Did you really think Leonard Caldwell could give you more than me?” He spoke softly, yet every word stung with biting sharpness. “Is that why you sold yourself to him?”

  She could feel the color drain from her face. “You know nothing about my reasons for marrying Leonard.” Or did he? Don’t let him know about Kyle, she prayed with frantic desperation. Please, don’t let him know they had a son.

  “I know you decided he was the safer bet. I know that you leaked our bids to him. And I know that he married you. Was that the price you held out for? Marriage in exchange for theft?”

  “I didn’t steal from you.” To her dismay, a hint of hurt leaked through her deni
al.

  “The hell you didn’t. I hope it was worth it. Because the time has come to pay for what you took.”

  She stiffened, sudden fury overriding every other thought and consideration. “I’ve had enough,” she announced. “I want you out of here. And if you won’t go quietly, I’ll call security.”

  To her consternation, he laughed. “I don’t think so. In fact, you’re not moving until you’ve listened to every word I have to say.”

  She attempted to twist from his hold, wincing as his unyielding grasp bruised her wrist. Short of creating a scene, she had little choice but to stand there and hear him out. She shot a swift glance over her shoulder. The other board members were busy availing themselves of the coffee and pastries spread across the buffet table. To her relief, they weren’t paying the least attention to her conversation.

  Resigned to the inevitable, she turned back to Damien. “All right, I’m listening. But please let go first. You’re hurting me.”

  For a minute, she didn’t think he’d do it. Then his grip eased and his thumb stroked across the narrow bones of her wrist. “I’d forgotten how quick you are to bruise,” he said, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes.

  “Forget it.” She dismissed his concern. “I also heal fast.”

  His jaw tightened. “So you do. Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Say what you’ve come to say,” she prompted softly.

  His voice turned grim. “I want retribution. Oh, don’t look so shocked, Sable. Even you must realize that no one steals from me and gets away with it. I’m here to make that point crystal clear.”

  “I swear to you, Damien, it didn’t happen that way. I didn’t steal—”

  “Stop it!” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The fierce expression on his face was more than enough to ensure her silence. “We went through this five years ago. You can protest all you want, but it won’t alter the facts. The leak came from you.”

  Her gaze wavered, then fell. He was right. The leak had come from her. But it hadn’t happened the way he claimed. It hadn’t been deliberate, not that that changed anything. He believed her guilty of stealing from him. And he didn’t intend to listen to any excuses. All she could do was attempt to uncover his intentions and mitigate the damage if possible.