The Baby Inheritance (Billionaires and Babies)

by Maureen Child

  “Well, I guess our little talk will have to wait, won’t it?” Shaking her head, she rolled off him, stretched out on the bed and turned her head on the pillow to look at him. He didn’t look young and innocent in his sleep. He looked exactly what he was… A strong, powerful man at rest. And for some ridiculous reason, she felt another hard tug on her heart. Oh, Lilah thought, that was probably not a good thing.

  Easing out of the bed, she picked up her discarded clothes and left his room. But on the threshold, she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder for one last look at him.

  He slept in the moonlight and looked so alone, she almost went back to him. Almost. Before she could give in to an urge she would only come to regret, she stepped out of the room and carefully closed the door behind her.

  * * *

  By morning, Reed had worked out exactly what he would say to Lilah. He figured that she would be just like every other woman he’d ever encountered—assuming that sex was a natural gateway to a “relationship.” Not going to happen.

  Naturally, though, Lilah had thrown him for a loop again. Not only hadn’t they had “the talk,” she hadn’t even been home by the time he walked into the kitchen looking for coffee. Connie had explained that Lilah had taken Rose for an early morning walk and he’d had to tell himself that talking to her about what had happened the night before would just have to wait until he got home after work.

  Home. The house was quickly becoming home. More of Lilah’s influence. She’d furnished it so that every time he stepped inside, he relaxed as he never had in the impersonal, starkly modern hotel. Hell, he’d even been thinking about redecorating the office lately because he didn’t like all the chrome and black.

  Her influence.

  She was seeping into every corner of his life—and he knew he’d never be able to sleep in his bed again without remembering what the two of them had shared there.

  Okay, yes, it had been the most incredible experience of his life, but that didn’t mean anything, really. Of course sex with Lilah had been mind-blowing. He’d done nothing but think about and fantasize about her for the past couple of weeks. Finally getting her into his bed was…staggering. Okay, fine, he could admit the sex was great. But that didn’t mean he was interested in anything more.

  He had spent a lifetime building a controlled, organized life. With his extended, wildly passionate family, he’d learned to maintain a certain emotional distance. Mainly because if he allowed himself to be drawn into every crisis his family brought to him to solve, his own life would end up as convoluted as those he worked to keep out of trouble.

  So control had been a part of his personality for as far back as he could remember. Reed kept his thoughts and emotions to himself and showed the world only what he wanted them to see. That control had allowed him to build a fortune, a career and a reputation he was proud of and to avoid messy entanglements like the rest of his family.

  But since Rose and Lilah had walked into his life, that control had been slipping. He didn’t like it, but there was no point in lying to himself about it.

  The truth was, Rosie had already wedged her way into his heart. That tiny girl had a grip on him he wouldn’t have thought possible. Then there was Lilah.

  He sat back in his desk chair, spun it around to look out at the sun-splashed ocean and instead of seeing the Pacific, he saw Lilah. Her eyes. Her hair. Her smile. He saw her tending to Rose, laughing with Connie and sitting beside him in the firelight.

  But damn it, mostly he saw her in his bed. Naked, writhing, calling his name as her body erupted beneath his.

  Before Lilah Strong, his life had rolled along as it should. Okay, maybe it had its boring moments… Fine. He was bored. Work didn’t hold the same appeal it had years before. Reed watched his brothers and sisters having adventures and, yes, screwing up so he had to ride to the rescue, but still. They were living.

  While he, like an old man at a party, complained about the crowds, the noise and the irritations.

  When had he turned into an old fogy?

  “I’m not,” he muttered, as if he’d needed to hear it said out loud for it to be true. “I can have a good time. I just choose to live my life responsibly.”

  Groaning at the thought, he frowned at the buzzer on his phone when it sounded. Stabbing the button, he asked, “What is it, Karen?”

  “Ms. Strong is on the phone. She insists on talking to you.”

  Just thinking about her could conjure her—if not in person, then on the phone. Well, hell, maybe “the talk” they should have had that morning would be easier if they had it on the phone. He wasn’t looking forward to it. She’d probably cry, tell him she loved him or some such thing. But he’d be cool. Detached. And set her straight. “Fine. Put her through.”

  “Reed?” Her voice sounded low and worried and instantly he responded.

  “Are you okay? Rose? Connie?”

  “Everything’s fine,” she whispered. “I don’t like bothering you at work, but—”

  Thoughts of “the talk” had faded from his mind. Now all he could think about was what must have happened at the house to have Lilah calling him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “There’s a little boy here.”

  “What?”

  “A little boy? Male child?” Even whispered, he caught the sarcasm. “He says he’s your brother Micah.”

  Reed jumped to his feet. “Micah’s there? He’s supposed to be in school.”

  “Well, he’s in the kitchen eating everything Connie puts in front of him and he says he’ll only talk to you.”

  “I’m on my way.” He hung up, grabbed his suit jacket and on the way out the door could only wonder when he would have the time to be bored again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lilah liked Micah Hudson.

  He was twelve years old, had Reed’s green eyes and a shock of dark hair that continually fell into those eyes. He also had quite the appetite. He’d already mowed through two sandwiches, a half a bag of chips, three of Connie’s chocolate chip bars and three glasses of milk.

  And through it all, he managed to maintain a guarded look in his eyes that she’d noticed in Reed’s way too often. Lilah thought no child should look so wary and it tore at her to see him sitting there waiting for the proverbial ax to fall.

  “Reed’s on his way home,” she said as she sat down at the kitchen table opposite the boy.

  “Okay, good.” Micah looked up at her and bit down on his bottom lip. “Did he sound mad?”

  “No,” she assured him. Surprised, yes. Angry, no. She’d seen Reed in action dealing with his sister Savannah, so she hoped he was just as understanding and patient with this boy who looked so worried and anxious. “He did say you’re supposed to be in school.”

  Instantly, Micah slumped in the chair until he looked boneless. His head hung down so that his chin hit his chest and he muttered, “I don’t want to be there. I wanted to come see Spring’s baby.” He looked at Rose, who gave him a wide, drooly smile, and Micah couldn’t help but smile back. That expression faded when he looked back to Lilah. “They wouldn’t let me come. Said my father had to sign a paper to allow me to go and he wouldn’t.”

  For a boy who had at first insisted he’d speak only to his brother, once Micah started, he couldn’t seem to stop. He picked up another cookie bar but instead of eating it, he crumbled it between his fingers as words poured from him in a flood.

  “I called Father to tell him I wanted to come here but he said I couldn’t come and see the baby because I had to stay at the school and be supervised.” He added about six syllables to that last word for emphasis, then kept right on talking, his eyes flashing, and a stubborn expression settling on his features. “But Spring was my sister,” he argued, eyes filling with tears he blinked back. “She loved me and I loved her. And now she’s dead. I should get to see Rose, right?”

  “I would think so,” Lilah hedged, on his side, but wary about criticizing his father. That didn�
�t keep her from reaching out to briefly lay one hand over his clenched fist.

  “That’s what I thought,” Micah said, nodding as if to remind himself he’d done the right thing. “So, I had some money and I walked out of the school and bought a bus ticket and here I am.”

  She couldn’t imagine a child just hopping a bus and taking off on his own. “Where do you go to school?”

  “Arizona,” he muttered and watched as cookie crumbs drifted like brown snow down to the plate in front of him. “And it sucks.”

  Arizona to California was a long bus ride for a little boy on his own, and Lilah took one silent moment to thank the universe for protecting him on his journey. Now that he was safe, Lilah could admire the courage it must have taken for him to go off on his own, and still, his eyes looked wounded, nervous.

  Once again, Lilah was reminded of just how idyllic her own childhood had been. She’d never been forced to run away because she’d been miserable where she was. She’d never once gone to her parents with something important only to be turned away and ordered to basically sit down and shut up. She thought of what Connie had said about the Hudson parents and had to agree.

  They were careless about the important things. Their children. Couldn’t Micah’s father hear the misery in the boy’s voice? Had he even taken the time to help the boy grieve for his sister?

  Oh, she really hoped Reed was kind when he showed up to talk to his younger brother. Micah didn’t look as though he could take another dismissal of his feelings. But until Reed arrived, Lilah could only keep the boy talking, try to ease his fear and help him relax.

  “Don’t like Arizona, huh?” Lilah asked the question lightly, not letting him know how horrified she was that he’d taken such a chance by running. She handed Rosie a slice of banana that the tiny girl immediately squished in one small fist.

  “It’s not Arizona I don’t like. It’s my stupid school,” Micah muttered.

  He looked caught between childhood and adulthood. His face was still round and soft and would hone down over the years, making him a handsome man one day. But right now, he looked like a little boy, unsure of himself and the world around him. He wore black slacks, black shoes and a white shirt with a red-and-blue crest on the left pocket. The uniform had probably been starched and ironed when he began his trek. Now it looked as rumpled and stained as its wearer.

  Lilah couldn’t believe a twelve-year-old boy had just walked out of his private school and hopped on a bus. What kind of school was it that didn’t keep better track of its students? And what kind of parent, she wondered again, couldn’t see that a child was sick with worry and grief and misery? She felt sorry for the boy, but at the same time, she knew he’d been lucky to make the trip safely.

  Rose, in a high chair alongside Micah, picked up a fistful of Cheerios and tossed them at the boy. Surprise flickered in Micah’s eyes, then delight.

  “I think she likes me,” he said and his smile briefly chased the darkness from his eyes.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Lilah told him, then stood up to answer the phone when it rang. Still smiling at the kids, she said, “Hudson residence.”

  “This is Robert Hudson speaking. Who are you?”

  The gruff, hostile voice came through so loudly, Lilah lifted the receiver from her ear slightly. Reed’s father? she wondered. “I’m Lilah Strong and I’m here to—”

  “I know why you’re there. You brought Spring’s baby to Reed.” There was a brief pause in that silence. Lilah heard a distinct tapping as if the man were slapping something against a tabletop in irritation. “Is my son Micah there?”

  “Well,” she hedged, not wanting to rat the boy out but unwilling to let his father worry any longer—if he was worried. She glanced at the boy, who was watching her through anxious eyes. “Yes, he is.”

  “I want to speak to him. Now. I’ve been handling phone calls from his school,” he snapped, “and I knew damn well he’d make his way to Reed. I demand to speak to him now.”

  “Wow,” she murmured and slid her gaze to where Micah sat, watching her. He had to have heard his father through the receiver. The man’s furious voice was only getting louder. But as much as she wanted to shield Micah, she couldn’t keep his father from talking to him. “Hold on, please.” She cupped her hand over the phone and said, “It’s your father.”

  Micah’s smile was gone and his eyes looked haunted. Pushing himself out of his chair, he dragged himself across the floor like a man heading for the gallows, then reluctantly took the phone. “Hello, Father.”

  Instantly, the older Hudson started shouting even louder than before.

  Lilah didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but unless she actually left the room, she simply couldn’t help it. She shot a worried glance at Connie and saw the older woman’s scowl. But it was Micah’s expression that tore at Lilah. As she watched, the boy seemed to shrink into himself as his father ranted like a crazy person.

  A few words stood out from the stream. Irresponsible. Brat. Selfish. Reckless.

  Lilah’s temper simmered into a froth that nearly choked her. Seeing that sweet boy reduced to tears was just more than she was going to take.

  “Give me the phone, Micah,” she said.

  The boy gaped at her, but handed it over. Lilah smiled at him, and ignoring the spiel pouring from the receiver, told the boy, “Why don’t you go finish your cookies and sit with Rosie?”

  He was looking at her wide-eyed as if he couldn’t decide if she was brave or crazy. She was neither, Lilah thought. What she was, was going to defend a boy against a man who should know better than to rail against a child. He was still shouting.

  “Mr. Hudson,” Lilah spoke up and paused for the tirade to fade away in stunned shock at having been interrupted.

  “Where’s Micah?”

  “He’s having milk and cookies.”

  “Who the hell—”

  She cut him off again and maybe it was small of her, but she enjoyed it. Now Lilah understood why Reed’s siblings came to him when they had a problem. She couldn’t imagine anyone would run to Robert Hudson for help. The man would no doubt throw a fit of humongous proportions and solve absolutely nothing.

  Shaking her head, she had to admit she also had a whole new respect for what Reed had to deal with on a daily basis. Juggling so many different personalities had to be exhausting.

  When Robert Hudson’s voice finally trailed off, she spoke up.

  “I’m sorry, but Micah’s busy right now,” she said and heard the man sputter on the other end of the phone. Smiling, she could silently admit that she sort of enjoyed knowing she’d thrown him for a loop. “But please call back as soon as you’ve had a chance to calm down.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  She almost smiled. “Goodbye, Mr. Hudson.”

  When she hung up the phone, Connie applauded. Lilah winced and laughed a little uneasily. Sure, the housekeeper might be pleased, but Lilah had just hung up on Reed’s father. Not that she regretted it, she told herself when she looked at the boy staring at her with stars in his eyes. There was just no way she could have stood there and done nothing.

  “That was so cool,” Micah said quietly, awe coloring his tone. “Nobody but Reed talks to our father like that.”

  Hmm. “Well, maybe more people should.”

  Micah’s gaze dropped and so did his voice. “Reed’s gonna be mad at me, too, isn’t he?”

  Lilah really hoped not. She didn’t think the boy could take much more right now. He looked beaten down after a few minutes of his father shouting at him. If Reed came in furious, it would only add to the boy’s misery. Instantly, she thought back over the past couple of weeks and though she could remember a few times when Reed had behaved like a stuffy old man, she couldn’t bring up one instance of him really being furious. And she had to admit, he’d had so many things thrown at him lately that he could have blown a gasket at any point. So maybe he’d be exactly what Micah needed.

  “Reed will be happy to see you
,” Connie put in, stopping to give the boy a hard hug. “Just like I am.”

  “Thanks, Connie,” he said, then shifted his gaze to Lilah again. “Will you talk to Reed for me like you did to my father?”

  She smiled and got him another glass of milk. That much at least, she could promise. “If you need it, sure.”

  “Okay.” As settled as he could be, Micah focused on the baby and visibly tried to relax.

  When Reed arrived a few minutes later, he came straight to the kitchen and Lilah’s heart broke a little as she watched Micah straighten in his chair and go on guard. She really hoped Reed could see beyond the boy’s bravado to the frightened kid inside.

  Shrugging out of his jacket, Reed loosened his tie and glanced from Micah to the two women in the room watching him. Not for the first time, Lilah wished she could read his mind. It would be good to know if she’d have to jump in front of Micah or not.

  But she told herself that how Reed treated his little brother would give her an idea of how he would deal with Rose in the years to come. Would he be patient or angry? Understanding or dictatorial? Nerves pinged inside her. She was sure there was a warm man beneath the cold, detached shell he showed the world. But what if she was wrong?

  “Got any coffee, Connie?” he asked.

  “Since I’m breathing, yes.” She waved him at the table. “Go sit down. I’ll bring you some along with a couple cookie bars.”

  He gave her a wink. “I should come home early more often.” Glancing at Lilah as he walked to the table, he asked, “So you’ve met my brother. What do you think?”

  Micah’s gaze snapped to hers and she read worry there. She smiled at him. “I think he was very brave to ride a bus all the way from Arizona by himself.”

  “Yeah. Brave.” Reed sat down, reached out and gave Micah’s arm a slight punch. “Also stupid. You were lucky you got here all right.”

  Micah frowned. “I’m not stupid or anything.”

  “No, not stupid,” Reed agreed, “but walking out and making the school panic enough to call Father wasn’t the brightest move.”