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

by Day Leclaire

  Returning to the private dining room, she found that Nikolai had brought two huge goblets filled with a green iced drink. Sections of tropical fruit, a paper umbrella and half a dozen tiny plastic monkeys festooned the rim in crazed abandon.

  “What is it?” she questioned, eyeing the bizarre concoction suspiciously.

  “It’s called Nikolai’s Nectar and he warned he won’t bring our dinner until you’d drained the glass.”

  “Uh-oh. Have you tried it?”

  He shook his head, his expression amused. “I thought I’d wait for you.”

  “Coward.” It required two hands just to lift the goblet. She took a quick sip from the straw and nearly choked. “If I drain what’s in this glass, I won’t be able to eat any dinner because I’ll have passed out.”

  “I suspected as much. But a little won’t hurt you.” He picked up his own glass and crossed to the love seat. “Come and sit down and enjoy the view. Our discussion can wait a while.”

  Until she’d consumed more of Nikolai’s Nectar? Not likely. As soon as she figured out a safe place to dump it, half this drink would be plant fertilizer. Or would that kill the poor plant? She nibbled at her lower lip. She’d just have to risk it.

  Instead of joining Damien on the love seat, she kicked off her pumps and curled up on the padded window seat nearby. If she was to keep her head, she needed to stay as far from him as possible. She took another sip of her drink. And she needed to slow down her consumption of this green stuff. A huge potted philodendron stood within reach and she snuck out a finger to see if it was real.

  “Don’t bother,” Damien said. “It’s fake. You’ll just have to drink it.”

  “Is there anything that escapes your notice?” she complained, jerking her hand back.

  “No, nothing.” He rose and walked toward her. His voice lowered, deepened. “Your hair is on fire.”

  She stared up at him, her breath catching in her throat. “What?”

  “The lights outside the window are red.” He reached out, his fingers brushing back the curls framing her face. “They’re caught in your hair, like hot embers licking at a nugget of coal.” He towered over her—large, indomitable, and more attractive than any man had the right to be.

  She closed her eyes to shut out the potent sight. “Damien, don’t,” she whispered, gripping the icy glass between her fingers. “Not tonight. I can’t bear it.”

  “Look at me.” His thumb brushed her cheekbone and she trembled helplessly. “Look at me,” he repeated. Slowly she lifted her gaze to his. He stared down at her, his green eyes darkening with unwavering resolve. “It’s too late to stop. We play this game to the bitter end. Fight me and you’ll only make it more difficult for yourself.”

  “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “You’ll regret it. I swear you will. Just let me go.”

  He shook his head before she’d even finished speaking. “I can’t. I won’t.”

  She really hadn’t expected any other response. She struggled to recover her composure. “You said we didn’t have to discuss business now,” she reminded him. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No. We’ll wait until after dinner as agreed,” he said. “There’s something else I’d rather discuss, anyway.”

  She gazed at him apprehensively. “What is it?”

  A final glimmer of daylight caught the steely glitter of his eyes before dusk overtook the room, plunging his face into shadow. “Who the hell is Kyle?” he demanded.

  Chapter 5

  Panic set in and Sable shrank into the deepening shadows, hoping her expression wouldn’t betray her. Thank heavens no one had bothered to switch on the lights. “ How do you know about Kyle?” Even to her own ears her voice sounded thready and nervous.

  “Your phone conversation.”

  “You listened?” She couldn’t believe his nerve.

  “Your voice carried,” he corrected her. “Close the door next time you want privacy. Now, who is he?”

  Sable lifted the glass to her lips and took a long, desperate swallow, stalling for time. “That’s none of your business,” she said at last.

  “You’re right. It’s not. Is he your lover?”

  “No!”

  “He lives with you, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes.” She snatched a quick, steadying breath. “I repeat, it’s none of your business.”

  “Who is he, Sable? You might as well tell me. Because if you don’t I’ll find someone who will.”

  She stiffened. It wouldn’t be too difficult to find that someone, either. Quite a few people at Caldwell’s knew about Kyle. Eventually, Damien would find a chatty employee willing to talk about the son she’d given birth to a mere seven months after her marriage to Leonard. It was a small wonder he hadn’t found out already. And once he did discover the truth it wouldn’t take him long to put two and two together and figure out why she’d been so anxious to keep Kyle’s existence a secret. After all, if he were Leonard’s son, why the big mystery?

  No, she didn’t dare risk telling Damien anything. His anger at learning about the leaks five years ago would be nothing compared to his fury should he learn about Kyle. She licked her lips, tasting the fruity tang of her iced drink. With luck it would give her a bit of courage, because she needed every scrap she could muster—even the temporary kind courtesy of Nikolai’s Nectar.

  She lifted her glass, meeting his fierce gaze over the rim with a calm she was far from feeling. “Kyle’s a relative.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I thought you didn’t have any relatives.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” Her voice sharpened. “And I won’t answer any more of your questions about him, so don’t bother asking.”

  A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good try, but wrong. You’ll answer my questions. It’s just a matter of when. Is he related to Caldwell?”

  She glared at him, furious that he insisted on pursuing the conversation. “This is ridiculous. Why do you care who he is? What if he is my lover? What is it to you?”

  “Is he?” The question came, swift and clipped. “Is that why you’re being so secretive?”

  “No! I just don’t understand why you’re persisting with this. You’ve been out of my life for five years now. Why the sudden interest in my personal affairs?”

  “Affairs?”

  She made an impatient gesture. “You know what I mean. Why pursue this particular issue?”

  He tilted his head to one side, watching her with a nerve-shredding intensity. “Because something doesn’t add up and I’m beginning to suspect that Kyle is part of it. Care to explain him to me now?”

  “Not really.” She lost it then, unable to stand another minute of his probing. “Stay out of it, Damien! I’m warning you, this is none of your business.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No,” she quickly denied. “As I said, I’m warning you.”

  “Strange how your warnings sound so much like threats. I must be getting close for you to try something so pointless, not to mention desperate.” His eyes narrowed. “But I’m not quite as close as I intend to get, my sweet Sable. Not by a long shot.”

  “Damien . . .” she whispered in distress. The air seemed thick and heavy, and she struggled to breathe, struggled to think of a way to call him off the chase, to quell his hunter’s instinct. But nothing came to mind, and she sat without moving, mesmerized, held like a frightened deer by the predatory gleam in his bold green eyes.

  To her intense relief, the door opened behind him and a waiter bearing a huge tray entered, followed by Nikolai. “What? No lights?” He flicked a switch by the door and a soft, muted glow filled the room. “This is better, yes?”

  Damien ignored him, leaning closer to Sable. “And just so you know,” he murmured. “This discussion isn’t over, just postponed.”

  She fought her panic and anger, and summoned a tight smile. “Don’t count on it.”

  He straightened and stepped back f
rom the window seat. “Oh, but I am counting on it. Your challenge has been met. Let the games begin.”

  Nikolai approached, curtailing any further conversation. “Ah, good,” he said, beaming in delight. “You have finished your drink. You like?”

  Sable stared down at her empty glass in dismay. Sure enough, only a cherry remained, swimming at the bottom in a puddle of melted ice. “It was delicious,” she confessed.

  “Yes. I agree,” Nikolai said without a trace of modesty. “And dinner, it is even better. Come and sit. Joey! What do you wait for? The candles, you young fool. Light them. Our guests are hungry.”

  Sable crossed to the table. Dinner at Nikolai’s always came as a surprise. They were never permitted to order. Their meal consisted of whatever Nikolai felt like preparing that day. Never once had she found cause to complain and she suspected that tonight would prove no different. Damien held her chair while Joey lit the candles.

  “And now, my most popular creation.” With a flourish Nikolai presented their appetizer. “Oysters Alcatraz.”

  Sable inhaled sharply, shooting a startled glance toward Damien. From the humor lightening his expression, the significance of being served the fabled aphrodisiac hadn’t escaped him either. “My favorite,” she claimed, practically choking on the words.

  “The favorite of all lovers,” Nikolai boasted with brash aplomb. “And to celebrate your return to my establishment, allow me to treat you to a bottle of my finest champagne. The favored drink of lovers to go with the favored food. What could be better, eh?”

  He positioned an ice bucket and stand at Damien’s elbow and made short shrift of removing the wire and foil from the bottle. A moment later he poured the foaming champagne into flutes. Scrutinizing the table one final time, he gave a nod of satisfaction. “Na zdorov’e!” he saluted them, and then he and Joey disappeared out the door.

  “All the trappings of a romantic evening,” Sable murmured, attempting a smile. “Little does he know.”

  Damien speared an oyster, consuming it with obvious relish. “Nikolai knows far more than you might think.”

  That gave her pause. “Such as?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

  “That we’re here to discuss business. Try an oyster. They’re quite good.”

  She picked up her fork and scooped a morsel from the shell, slipping it into her mouth. The meat was smooth and tender, and the asparagus young and crisp, with just the proper hint of anisette and a sinful amount of butter. He was right. They were perfectly delicious. “If Nikolai knows it’s a business dinner, then why . . . ?” She gestured toward the oysters and champagne.

  “He hopes we’ll end up discussing more than just business.”

  Oh, he did, did he? Well, not if she could help it. She lowered her gaze and applied herself to the oysters. The mere thought of renewing their conversation about Kyle caused her muscles to clench in dread.

  To her relief, Damien kept the conversation casual, and Sable found herself relaxing. She even laughed at some of his stories. He had so many wonderful qualities and she’d fallen in love with each and every one of them—his strength, his passion, his brilliance. But most of all she loved those rare moments when he let down his guard and revealed the compassion and kindness only a very strong man felt comfortable exposing.

  They finished the last of the oysters and a companionable silence settled between them. “How did this summer’s picnic go?” she asked impulsively.

  Hawke Enterprises sponsored a yearly picnic for handicapped and underprivileged children that kicked off the opening of their summer camp. Located in the mountains, far from the city, trained professionals ran the camp and gave the children an opportunity to experience many of the activities they wouldn’t otherwise be able to enjoy, such as horseback riding, canoeing, and water sports. But most of all, the counselors stressed teamwork and fought to instill self-respect and self-confidence in the children.

  It was a charity dear to Sable’s heart, one she’d continued to donate to even after she’d been fired, though she’d been careful to keep her contributions anonymous.

  “The picnic went very well. We received a lot of media attention this year, which helped with donations. Enough came in to purchase the land for a second camp.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful! I saw the segment they did on the news.” She peeked up at him, her dark eyes gleaming with barely suppressed laughter. “Did you get ribbed about it?”

  “For weeks.” He frowned, though she knew he wasn’t really annoyed. “Damned kid. Jerome. That was his name. He did it on purpose. He waited until the camera focused on me before letting fly with that water balloon.”

  Sable bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. “Your expression was priceless. I think the newscaster really believed you were going to kill that poor boy.” She wrinkled her brow, struggling to remember. “What did she say?”

  “She didn’t say anything, not at first. She just shrieked loud enough to be heard in three counties,” he said in disgust. “Then she yelled, ‘Save the poor boy before that beast murders him!’”

  “It only made her look foolish,” Sable said consolingly. “I’m surprised they didn’t dub it out.”

  He shook his head in satisfaction. “They couldn’t. It was a live broadcast. And when it played so well with their viewers they repeated it intact.”

  She chuckled. “Much to the newswoman’s chagrin, I’m sure.”

  It had been an electric moment. The aloof businessman, water dripping from his hair and shoulders, faced off against a pint-sized devil bent on mischief. When Damien had snatched the youngster into the air, Sable had thought the newswoman would have a stroke. And then he’d pretended to slip, tumbling with Jerome into the shallow wading pool behind them, and the tension had been broken with hysterical laughter.

  But the most poignant moment of all had been when Damien and the boy had surfaced, totally drenched and grinning with unmistakable male camaraderie. Jerome had thrown his arms around Damien’s neck, clinging to him with such a look of adoration that it had brought tears to Sable’s eyes. And Damien . . . He’d ruffled the boy’s short, wiry hair, the most incredible look of tenderness creeping across his stern features.

  Was that how he’d be with Kyle? she wondered wistfully. Would he allow his guard to drop sufficiently to let love, in the shape of a small, impish boy, wriggle in? A picture formed in her mind, a picture as precious as it was impossible and her breath caught in an audible gasp.

  He instantly keyed in on her reaction. “What’s wrong?”

  She dropped her gaze to hide her pain. “A passing thought. A foolish thought.” And that was precisely what it was. Foolish.

  “Something you can share?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “More secrets?” He leaned across the table, clasping her hand in his. “One of these days they’re going to catch up with you. What will you do then, Sable?”

  She shrugged uneasily. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, I guess. What else can I do?”

  “You might try honesty for a change.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “That from a man bent on revenge?” She tugged her fingers from his grasp. “I don’t think so. But thanks for the suggestion.”

  “I hope you don’t regret it.”

  “I hope not, too,” she whispered.

  But she already did. Unfortunately, regretting the choices she’d made five years ago could prove dangerous in the extreme, picturing Damien with Kyle even more so. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d made a horrible mistake, if she shouldn’t have somehow forced a confrontation with Damien, told him about her pregnancy. But he’d been out of the country and beyond her reach. And she’d been afraid of what he might do to her and their child, afraid he’d use her vulnerability to exact an unconscionable revenge. She’d also discovered in the past days that her fear, reasonable or not, hadn’t diminished with time.

  She glanced at him. He sippe
d his champagne, flickering candles highlighting the sweeping curve of his cheekbones and catching in the green of his eyes and the streaks of gold in his hair. She’d explored every inch of that face, knew it as intimately as her own. It was only his thoughts and emotions he kept so closely protected. Her mouth compressed. If she’d told him about her pregnancy, more than likely he wouldn’t even have believed the baby was his. He’d as good as accused her of sleeping with Leonard at the same time she’d been with him. No, she’d made the right choice in keeping Kyle’s existence a secret. Even so, there were times she wished…

  Their main course arrived before her wish could fully form. To her delight Nikolai had prepared lobster thermidor, her very favorite dish. “Seems he’s pulled out all the stops,” she murmured once the waiter departed.

  “Nikolai is a romantic,” Damien said. “He wants everything perfect, hoping this will be the start of a second chance for us.”

  “If that’s what he’s hoping, he’s going to be sadly disappointed,” she said lightly. “Though I’m surprised he knows so much about our private life.”

  “Private? Hardly. Your defection was quite public,” he stated coolly.

  “And you’ve never forgiven me for that, have you?” She selected a rosy cube of lobster dripping with sauce and Swiss cheese. It practically melted in her mouth.

  “Forgiven?” he questioned harshly. “No. Nor have I ever understood it.”

  Her fork crashed to the table. “You never understood because you wouldn’t accept any of my explanations.”

  “You mean your lies?” he bit out.

  “They weren’t lies. Oh, this is ridiculous!” She clenched her hands, her voice tight with fury. “You preferred to believe I’d lie and cheat, that I’d actually steal from you, rather than see the truth. You even dared to suggest I could conduct an ardent affair with you while taking another man to bed on the side. Have you any idea what that did to me, knowing how little you trusted me, Damien?”

  His expression frosted over, his eyes flashing a warning. “The proof was incontrovertible.”