His Surprise Daughter : A BWWM Billionaire Romance

by Tiana Cole

  ~

  After an uneasy night of sleep, spent dreaming about a dark-skinned beauty and her adorable green-eyed daughter, Caine woke up cranky and tired. He had a long day ahead of him, which according to the updated schedule he’d received from Dottie, now included an appointment with the very woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  A quick shower and he was downstairs drinking coffee and catching up on his journal reading. Caine spent most of his free time inside his five-bedroom home, reading over journal articles that would always keep him on the edge of innovative new treatments for his patients. He hadn’t dated since he moved to Alaska a few years ago to complete his residency and he didn’t really have any friends. But he was a damn good doctor and that’s what mattered to him.

  Caine stopped on his way out the door and stared at himself in the mirror. Specifically at his eyes, which were a unique shade of moss green with small flecks of silver and gold if you looked close enough. He leaned in closer, realizing those eyes were very familiar indeed. Too familiar. “Dammit,” he cursed, and slammed out of the house and into his car for the quick ride to the hospital. His phone rang and he answered with an irritated growl.

  “Caine, really, your phone manners are atrocious.”

  His eyes rolled of their own free will and Caine scrubbed a hand over his face. “You can always stop calling, Mother.”

  “Your father and I were very disappointed when you turned down the Rochester Fellowship. You’ve no idea the number of favors he’d had to call in. Luckily for you, I have the perfect way you can make it up to us.”

  Here we go, he thought nastily. “I don’t owe you anything.” Ever since making the decision to specialize in pediatrics, Caine found it easier to stand up to his parents when it came to his life. It was as though making one major decision had been addictive. Now it seemed as though no was his favorite word.

  “Take a job at Beth Israel and get engaged to Missy Travers. You both will look so amazing together on the campaign trail,” she squealed, blowing out his eardrum and making him groan all at once.

  “No.”

  “Of course you will, the senator is counting on you. I’ll have Missy call you for details.”

  “She won’t like what I have to say if she calls, Mother.” He’d spent five years ducking and dodging every single socialite, celebu-tante, starlet and princes of marrying age. Deborah Faulkner was a forced to be reckoned with in elite Florida social circles, and the young women were eager to become his Mrs. Faulkner, whether they liked his surly attitude or not. After that, he stopped holding his tongue, stopped being polite and enduring pointless boring dates.

  “Stop being such a child, Caine. We let you burrow away in the wilds of Alaska, the least you could do is act grateful.” This was the Deborah Faulkner he was most familiar with. The one who was quick with an insult or a berating comment, applying constant pressure until he did what she wanted.

  “You didn’t let me do anything, Mother. I can just as easily spend the next year in France and come back as a chef. Or maybe fix racing cars. Anything I want.”

  “The senator’s campaign needs you. People will talk if you’re not there.”

  “I. Don’t. Care. I have my own life, which you both were careful to plot every step of with no regard to what I wanted. Now it’s my turn to repay the favor. Goodbye, Mother.”

  “Don’t make me play hardball, Caine. I don’t enjoy it but I will.”

  He sighed and smiled. “Just remember Mother, I’m not the one running for office.” At the sound of her strangled gasps, he hung up the phone, knowing he would pay for this moment of joy later with another annoying conversation.

  Walking into the hospital, he froze, remembering the track his mind had been on before his mother’s interruption. Green eyes. There would be plenty of time to talk to Zara after her appointment.

  Three hours later he was exhausted and finished with his rounds, heading to his office to prepare for his meeting with Zara. He hadn’t had a chance to look at her results yet because the day had been so busy. Walking into his office, he came to an abrupt stop. “Zara. You’re early.”

  She gave him a sheepish grin. “It’s kind of an important meeting. I can come back if you’re busy.” She stood and he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her where she was.

  “No, stay, but I have to warn you that I haven’t looked at the results yet.” Taking a seat behind his desk, Caine stole a moment to take in her beauty. Today she looked every bit the suburban mom in sexy blue jeans and a bold teal sweater set. It was fuzzy and touchable. Just like Zara. And those long black braids were woven into two larger braids that fell over her shoulders. Down her breasts.

  “So,” she said, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “Right.” Opening the folder, Caine felt his stomach drop out of his body. “I’m sorry, Zara, but you can’t give a kidney to Cassia.”

  “Shit! Why?” She stood and began to pace, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to stare at the lift and fall of that amazing ass.

  “Have a seat, Zara, we need to talk. About you this time.”

  She turned to him and froze. “Talk?”

  Why did he have to be the one to tell her this? And now, when he’d just found her and hadn’t decided yet how he felt about that. About any of it. “One of your kidneys is weak, so you need the other one to keep you healthy and functioning properly.”

  “Can I take care of Cassia with just one kidney in this condition?”

  Caine shook his head. “No. You’d end up on the list yourself, and that would do Cassia no good.” He always made sure his patient’s parents took care of themselves, or else they would be too tired to take care of the kids.

  “Do I need surgery or something?” Her expression was worried and exhausted.

  “Not right now, but you should see a specialist so they can monitor the condition. I’m serious, Zara.”

  “I hear you.” She waved a dismissive hand at him and her gaze got lost on the slate blue carpet in his tiny office. She was no longer listening because she was thinking about what this news meant for Cassia.

  “You’ll have to contact Cassia’s father now.”

  Zara nodded but he could tell she wasn’t really listening. “No. This can’t be happening, not now. No, no, no.” She gave him a look so cold it nearly stopped his heart. “Dammit, Caine.” Another betrayed look and she stomped out of his office

  “Well, damn.” He was used to parents taking news badly and often they turned their blame on him. He’d been the messenger enough times to know that he was who they wanted to kill most, and he was used to it. But Zara’s reaction felt different, more personal. And then remembered.

  And went after her.

  ~

  Zara’s kidneys weren’t healthy enough to let her save her daughter. She would have to let Caine be the hero in this scenario. But first she needed to tell him that he had a daughter before she could expect him to hand over a kidney. “Goddammit!” She kicked the inside of the elevator as tears fell down her face.

  It wasn’t fair. Caine didn’t get to stroll back into her life and turn it on its ass, and then get to be the hero who swooped in saved her daughter. He could have been there for Cassia, for both of them, if he’d wanted to, and he obviously didn’t. The elevator doors opened and she stomped out, blind to any sights and sounds around her. She needed to get home. Cassia would return from school soon and she wanted to be there to greet her. She needed to.

  “Zara!” A hand grabbed her elbow and spun her around. “I’ve been calling you for minutes now.”

  “Obviously I didn’t hear you.” She jerked out of his grasp and took a few steps back. “Was there something else?”

  He shook his head. “No, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

  She shrugged, touched that he cared and upset that she cared what he thought. “As good as I can be after hearing I can’t save my baby.”

  “Do you think her father will help?”


  She glared at him, feeling the urge to punch his handsome face bubble up inside her. “He didn’t give a damn that I was pregnant and he didn’t come when I asked him to so no, Caine, I don’t think he will help.”

  “Where is he? Maybe having a doctor call will—”

  She cut him off. “Will what? Make him realize that I have no interest in rekindling our sham of a relationship since he made it very clear eight years ago exactly how he felt about the both of us? I highly doubt that, Doctor, so do me a favor and see what you can do about getting my daughter a kidney.”

  “Dammit, Zara! Listen to me. The chances of a non-family member having enough protein matches to ensure Cassia doesn’t reject the kidney is slim. Especially in a child so young. I don’t care what he did, what kind of asshole this guy is, get him on the phone to help his daughter.”

  She glared at him as he stood there feeling so smug after his little speech. She desperately wanted to forget everything her parents had ever taught her about violence not solving her problems because right now it seemed like a pretty good solution. But she was an adult so she would handle her problems like an adult. “You know what, Caine? You’re right, I should just tell him. I mean, who cares if he utterly broke my heart, destroyed my confidence in myself and trust in other people, right?”

  “Exactly.” Sable eyebrows furrowed and dipped low as though to say duh.

  “Okay. Hey, Caine, your daughter needs a kidney transplant. Do you give a shit now? Great, because she needs one of yours, apparently I’m too sick.” Zara slid inside her truck, slamming the door and starting the engine before she sped off.

  She didn’t bother looking back to see if Caine had reacted.

  She didn’t care.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m having a mixer at the house in Martha’s Vineyard this weekend, Caine, and I’ve invited the very best society girls Florida has to offer.” His mother tittered as though she was so clever. “Even a few from that awful New York, Boston and Chicago. I’m sure your future wife is among them.”

  Caine held back a groan as his mother droned on and on about the attributes—both physical and familial—of each woman she’d invited. His mother could drive the calmest man to rage and violence, and right now it took every ounce of cool he had to bite his tongue. He couldn’t really blame her tenacity because she had every right to believe that eventually he would give in. He always had before. “Mother, I won’t be there.” Even if his whole world hadn’t been flipped upside down forty-eight hours ago, he wouldn’t be attending.

  “Of course you will. It’s past time you found a proper wife and leave that dreadful Alaska. No good woman will want to make a life in the wild.” She spoke with such authority, as though she’d ever spent five minutes in the wild. Or Alaska, for that matter.

  “Good, because I’m not looking for a wife.” It wasn’t the first time they’d had this particular conversation because, of course, Deborah Faulkner didn’t listen to anything that contradicted her plans or world view. This most especially applied to her only son and his bride. And the bride’s wealthy and influential family.

  “You’re busy, Caine, that’s why I’m looking for you. That way we make sure you end up with the right woman.”

  “Mother.”

  “If I left things up to you, there’s no telling where you’d be right now. Or who you’d be with.”

  Her words sent chills down his spine as other things mixed in. Your daughter needs a kidney transplant. The picture forming in his drunken mind wasn’t pretty and he wasn’t prepared to deal with it. Not all of it, anyway. “Mother, listen to me.”

  “Remember that god awful bumpkin who came looking for you?” She laughed and it was so…evil Caine felt sick to his stomach. Of course, that could also have been the alcohol. “Cleverer girls have tried to pin a baby on you than that one, and none have succeeded.”

  “Goddammit, Mother, shut up!” The line went silent but he knew she hadn’t hung up. Not yet. “I am not coming to your ridiculous party and I’m not marrying anyone.” Ever. “And I’m realizing some things about you that I really don’t like, Mother, so I suggest you give me some space.”

  “I won’t apologize for doing what’s right for you.”

  “For Father, don’t you mean?” Because not once in his twenty-nine years had she ever even asked what he wanted. “Don’t act like this is for me because we both know it isn’t.” He’d already had too much to drink, ever since Zara had dropped that bomb on him, but he hadn’t stopped. Caine looked at the bottle of sixteen-year-old Lagavulin in his hand and thought about all the times he’d given in to his mother. On big things, like his education and career. The woman he loved. His daughter. “You don’t give a damn what I want.”

  She gasped. “What has gotten into you, Caine? I can’t believe you would speak to your own mother that way.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still trying to manipulate me.” He’d done almost every single thing ever asked of him and still, it wasn’t enough.

  “By making sure you have the right woman by your side?”

  “How many times have I told you I don’t want a wife? Especially some woman who’s only goal in life is to marry a rich man?” They both knew it was too many times to count. “I’m not giving in to you or Father, not again. Learn to deal with it or leave me alone.”

  “No one will elect you to any office without a wife, Caine. You need to think about this reasonably.”

  Caine screamed until he was out of breath. “Listen to me carefully Mother, I am not running for any office. Ever. If you or Father even hint publicly that I might, I’ll put out an unequivocal statement saying I will never ever run for office.” And maybe a few things about corrupt politicians.

  “You wouldn’t.” The disbelief he heard in her voice was almost amusing.

  “Don’t test me on this, I promise you won’t like my response.” Eyes closed, he instantly recalled the sweet face of his daughter. Her light cocoa skin and those green eyes that were one hundred percent Faulkner eyes. His daughter who was seven years old and had never met her father. Who probably thought he didn’t want her. That thought brought him upright. “I have to go, Mother, I can’t deal with this right now.” He disconnected the call and tossed his phone aside.

  “I have a daughter.” He finally said it aloud, rolled it around his tongue to see how it felt. Then he waited for the panic to set in. The terror. Only, it didn’t. The thought of his daughter made him feel…lighter. Happy, even. But would he be a good father? Could he? More importantly, would Zara even allow him to be a father? She was under the impression that he didn’t want her or their child.

  Could he even come back from that? “I sure as hell have to try.” Don’t I?

  Caine leaned across his forest green sofa, happy that he’d ignored the decorator and gone for soft and plush rather than hard and leather, and grabbed his phone. “Zara, we need to talk.” He listened with a sigh as she told him when and where before abruptly ending the call. He smiled and stumbled to his feet before falling back against the sofa cushions. “I’ll close my eyes,” he said to the empty room.

  Just for a minute.

  ~

  After waiting for nearly an hour for Caine to show up at the coffee shop near the hospital, Zara had left. Fuming. The damn man had called her and asked for this meeting, not the other way around. She hadn’t heard from him since she’d peeled out of the parking lot after telling him that Cassia was his. Again. Zara assumed she wouldn’t hear from him, that he would transfer the case to another specialist and they could be rid of each other.

  But he’d called. And stood her up.

  Why are you surprised? Caine hadn’t given her any reason to believe him, yet she’d shown up. And that pissed her off. So she’d whipped out her phone and did a quick search that yielded his address. Ten minutes later she sat in the driveway of a beautiful blue country farmhouse and wondered what in the hell she was doing.

  Sighing and dropping her he
ad to the steering wheel, Zara released a long, stressed out breath. She was here because there was one thing Caine was right about. They did need to talk. There were a lot of things that needed to settled. Discussed. And plenty of others that we never need to talk about. With that final thought she stepped from the car and counted each step to the door. It only took seventeen steps to get to his front door, and with another fortifying breath she knocked.

  And waited.

  There was some shuffling, a little bit of cursing and maybe a stumble before the door was yanked open. “Zara? I was just thinking about you. Come on in, we should talk.” He grabbed her hand, weaving their fingers together, and pulled her inside his house.

  What on earth was going on? “Yeah, you called me and we were supposed to meet over an hour ago. You never showed.” When they got to the main room she stopped and pulled from his grasp.

  Caine turned and frowned. “I did?”

  She nodded tersely. “Are you drunk?”

  He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. I remember now. I was drinking after you told me you kept my kid from me for seven years and then Mother called and that was a shit show and I called you. Then I fell asleep.” He gave a lopsided smile that made him look a decade younger.

  “Right,” she said, disgusted. He was obviously still the playboy party boy he’d hidden from her so well that winter, despite the white coat and stethoscope. “Well, then let’s try this again when you’re not wasted.” She turned to leave but his big too warm hand wrapped around her upper arm.

  “Zara, please.” She turned and those familiar green eyes were full of pleading and something else. “You dropped a pretty big bomb on me.” He moved and she followed, taking in the extraordinarily cozy nature of his home. The furniture was plush and comfortable, and there was no leather in sight. It was colorful and sophisticated and completely unlike the Caine she knew.

  “I did what?” She couldn’t have heard him right. “Dropped a bomb? I tried to tell you but you were done with me and didn’t even have the decency to tell me. After that I wasn’t really concerned with what you wanted.” She’d done more than she should have to let him know he was going to be a father, but he hadn’t even been man enough to tell her it was over. He’d had his mommy do it.