Brooding Rebel to Baby Daddy

by Ally Blake

  She forced herself up onto unsteady feet.

  He was walking towards her, eyes narrowing, softening, and then he was holding out his hand.

  ‘Ash...?’ His eyes were green, filled with confusion and curiosity. ‘I’m Theo Molenaar. But I’m...’ He hesitated. ‘I was expecting...’

  His tone was friendly, his accent light. There was kindness in his face, a smile hiding at the corners of his mouth. She felt her lips curving upward. She liked him, just like that. Easy as pie.

  ‘You were expecting my brother.’ She put her hand into his. ‘I’m Mia Boelens.’

  His fingers flexed around hers, warm and just firm enough.

  ‘So, Mia...what’s the story?’ Something in his eyes wouldn’t let her go. ‘Are you Ash’s business partner? Is he coming?’

  ‘Ash is coming, yes—and, no, I’m not his business partner.’

  A wisp of hair was tickling her neck. She tucked it behind her ear and glanced at her feet, noticing the hem of her slouchy grey trousers skimming her patent loafers. Theo was smartly dressed in a blue suit and crisp white shirt. His brown shoes were well-polished. She’d been in writing mode when Ash had called and that was how she’d left the house. Without looking, she couldn’t even remember if she was wearing a plain white tee-shirt under her jacket, or the black one with the feminist slogan. Certainly, she wasn’t dressed to impress. There hadn’t been time.

  She lifted her eyes to his. There was warmth behind the intensity of his gaze; something else too which was playing havoc with her pulse. ‘Unfortunately Ash has been delayed. He’s stuck on a train. It’s not his fault—it’s a signalling fault.’

  His eyebrows quirked. Maybe he was amused. She moistened her lips. ‘This meeting is very important to my brother, Mr Molenaar—’

  ‘Stop!’

  The breath caught in her throat. She’d screwed up.

  ‘My name is Theo.’ He was smiling properly now. White, even teeth.

  She exhaled slowly, feeling a small wash of relief. He was going to listen. Maybe she was actually going to pull this off.

  ‘Okay, Theo.’ She smiled. ‘As I was saying, this meeting is very important to Ash. I came here hoping to persuade you to change the venue...’ if only he’d stop looking at her so intently ‘...to split the difference, time-wise. Ash doesn’t want to postpone or cancel. He said this was the only window you had.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘So, what are you proposing?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Greenwich.’

  ‘Greenwich...?’

  ‘Ash’s train is coming in a stone’s throw from there, so going to him will save time, and...’ She took a deep breath. ‘I thought you’d like it because there’s a planetarium.’

  For the first time he broke her gaze. He shifted on his feet, pressed a hand to the back of his neck and when he looked at her again his eyes were cooler, guarded. ‘What makes you think I’d like the planetarium?’

  Her heart clenched. She’d unsettled him somehow, just when she needed to keep him onside. She considered his hotel. Small. Exclusive. Discreet! There’d been no photographs of him online... He was a private person, intensely private. Maybe he was made that way, or maybe he was hiding something...

  Hal had been good at that. Hiding. Stealing from the business to fund his gambling habit. Throwing her off the scent with expensive weekends away paid for out of a bogus inheritance. Ash had been the one paying...and when he’d started noticing discrepancies in the balance sheets, when he’d raised his doubts about Hal with her, what had she said? She’d said that Hal would never do such a thing, that he was too smart, too honest, too much in love with her ever to hurt her or their little family.

  But she’d been wrong—catastrophically wrong! Was Theo Molenaar hiding something too? Was he another Hal?

  He was looking at her intently, green eyes full of complications. Maybe it didn’t matter what he was. The only thing that mattered was securing Ash’s chance to pitch to MolTec.

  She smiled, gave a little shrug. ‘I saw an article about you having your eye to the telescope and I thought—’

  ‘That I like the stars?’ The tension faded from his eyes. ‘That article was going with a metaphor about business expansion.’ He hesitated, eyes fixed on hers, and then his face took on a boyish shyness. ‘But, as a matter of fact, I do like astronomy. The big bang theory, the expanding universe...’ He smiled. ‘The oldest planetarium in the world just happens to be on the ceiling of a canal house in Franeker—can you believe that? I went when I was a boy, and ever since I’ve been fascinated by the stars; I even have my own telescope. So, actually, you weren’t too far off the mark.’

  He’d trusted her with something private. The touch of colour at his cheekbones gave him away, or maybe it was that tiny glimmer of vulnerability she could see behind his eyes. She searched for some moisture in her mouth, something to swallow so she could speak. ‘I just want to help my brother, Theo...and the planetarium seemed like a happy compromise.’

  He shifted on his feet. ‘Your brother’s lucky you’re willing to go the extra mile for him.’

  She was close, she could feel it. All he needed was one last nudge. ‘Actually...’ Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. ‘The observatory’s six miles from here.’

  He lifted an eyebrow, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. ‘Six miles? In that case, I’ll order us a car.’

  * * *

  Theo pressed the phone tightly against his ear as a police motorbike weaved through the nearby traffic with its siren blaring.

  ‘See if you can fix something for Wednesday and, if that works for Thorne, change my flights.’ He pictured his assistant’s face. ‘I’m sorry, Trude.’

  Trude laughed. ‘I’ve no doubt your gratitude will be reflected in my imminent pay rise!’

  A smile tugged at his lips. ‘If you can reschedule the meeting without ruffling Thorne’s feathers, I’ll consider it.’

  ‘Leave it with me.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I’m dying to know why you’re postponing Jason Thorne—it must be something very important!’

  He glanced at Mia then turned to watch the view unfolding through the window of the luxury saloon. Trude never stopped trying to prise him open but it wouldn’t work; he was a clam. ‘Let me know how you get on with Thorne, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Theo. Bye for now.’

  He slipped his phone into his pocket. Disruptions usually annoyed him, but instead he was caught somewhere between admiration and bemusement. That Mia had gone out on a limb to help her brother resonated with him deeply. She was clearly the kind of person who couldn’t sit on the sidelines if she could do something to help, and he understood that impulse all too well. He felt the dark stirrings of a memory... His father... His older brother, Bram... Hard fists... Purple bruises... He’d learned at an early age the intolerable frustration of powerlessness.

  Perhaps Mia’s fighting spirit on its own would have persuaded him to reschedule his afternoon appointments and head across London to meet Ash Boelens, but there’d been something else too: the way she’d looked at him; that glimmer of vulnerability woven through the steely threads of her determination. She’d had him from the start, and he wasn’t used to being had. He didn’t know what to make of it.

  He turned to catch her eye, but she was gazing out of the window. Her shoulders were rigid, her chin lifted. Tenderness bloomed in his chest. She was only pretending to be confident...

  ‘I just want to help my brother.’

  He sighed softly and studied the back of her head. Her light-brown hair was wound up chaotically, speared with a pointy thing, and there were strands hanging loose against the side of her smooth neck. He pictured her face—the clear, brown eyes, the constellation of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose, the perfect fullness of her lips.

  He dropped his gaze. Her outfit was rather boho: b
lack patent shoes, loose grey trousers, a battered military jacket. At the hotel he’d glimpsed a slogan on her black tee-shirt, but he didn’t know what it said because he hadn’t wanted to stare at her chest.

  She turned suddenly, sensing him, perhaps. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had to cancel your next meeting. I didn’t think things th—’

  ‘It’s okay. It can be fixed.’

  She was fingering the strap of her bag and then her eyes widened. ‘At least the traffic’s not too bad.’

  The driver braked suddenly and they pitched forward in perfect unison. She caught his eye, started to giggle and then he was chuckling too. He motioned through the window. ‘We’d have been quicker on bicycles.’

  She pulled a face. ‘I’d never cycle in London—it’s far too dangerous!’

  ‘So many stationary cars! Very dangerous!’

  She mock-scowled. ‘It is dangerous. They’re putting in cycle lanes but London’s a long way behind Amsterdam.’

  She was right about that. She was obviously familiar with his city. He shifted in his seat. ‘So... I’m intrigued! You have a Dutch name but no trace of an accent...’

  ‘Ash and I grew up in London.’

  ‘Where’s your family from, originally?’ He checked himself. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, that is.’

  ‘My father’s family is from Texel.’

  ‘I have a beach house there...’ His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to share that, or the story about his childhood visit to the planetarium at Franeker, but there was something about her that drew him in, made words fall from his mouth. He’d have to be more careful.

  ‘We used to spend our summers there.’ Her smile was a little wistful. ‘It’s a lovely place.’

  ‘And your mother’s family—where are they from?’

  ‘England.’ She faltered. ‘Actually, I wonder if talking about my family is altogether appropriate.’ She pressed her lips together, blushed a little. ‘You’re about to go into a business meeting with my brother.’

  He cursed silently. He hadn’t meant to make her feel uncomfortable. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I was only making conversation.’

  She dropped her gaze to her hands, twisting the ring she wore on her thumb. Loose strands of hair grazed the soft hollows beneath her cheekbones. She was undeniably lovely. Looking at her face, seeing the way the light danced in her eyes when she was talking, was so much better than staring out of the window.

  ‘Can I ask you about yourself, then?’

  She looked up and shot him a little smile. ‘What do you want to know...?’

  ‘I’m wondering what you do when you’re not running diplomatic errands.’

  Her eyes clouded momentarily and then her expression settled. ‘I’m a writer.’

  A muscle in his jaw twitched involuntarily. She didn’t seem to have the sharp elbows of a newshound, but he’d have to be careful—for Bram’s sake. He drew a steadying breath and managed an interested smile. ‘Of books? Or are you a journalist?’

  ‘I write magazine articles and features. Blog posts. A bit of copywriting.’ She smiled. ‘There’s no sign of a book yet...’

  He pressed a finger to his temple. ‘What sort of features?’

  ‘A mixture.’ She gave a little shrug. ‘Popular culture, art, design, interiors...that kind of thing.’

  Relief loosened his joints. The arts were a million miles from the gutter where the paparazzi and their cronies hung about. ‘So, what are you working on at the moment?’

  She angled herself towards him on the seat, pulling one leg up under the other. ‘Have you heard of Dilly and Daisy?’

  Her eyes were wide and full of light. It was hard not to get lost in them.

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Okay, well, the D&D brand is all about sustainable fashion; it’s how they made their name. But now they’re moving into homeware—so that’s furnishing fabrics, cushions, cookware...’

  ‘Wow!’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘I had no idea that’s what homeware was...’

  Her eyes narrowed momentarily, and then she burst out laughing, rocking forward, hands over her mouth, and it was as if all the tiny tensions orbiting around them had suddenly vanished. Then he was laughing too, right from the bottom of his belly; he couldn’t remember laughing like that for the longest time.

  When she’d finally gathered herself, her eyes were still glistening with smiles. She put her hand on his arm. ‘I can’t believe I was actually explaining homeware! I’m so sorry. It must be nerves...’

  Her eyes held his through an endless moment, a moment he couldn’t shake himself out of, and then she seemed to notice that her hand was still resting on his arm and she pulled it away quickly, her cheeks colouring.

  He looked down, felt his heart thumping. It had been a spontaneous gesture—a friendly touch, nothing more—but then it had turned into something else and he’d felt that cosmic pull, like planets drawing together. Dangerous! Admiring Mia’s eyes and the way she smiled was one thing, but it had to stop there. He’d been sucked into the vortex before and he was never going there again.

  She was tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears. ‘Anyway, I’m doing a piece about them—how they started, their design influences, how they see things progressing... I interviewed them yesterday.’ She shrugged a little. ‘But I suppose you know how that goes. You must get mobbed by tech writers all the time.’

  She had to be joking. Putting himself into the hands of a journalist was the last thing he’d ever do. ‘No. I don’t do interviews.’ He tried to keep his gaze level. ‘MolTec has a PR department; no one needs to talk to me.’

  * * *

  It was a relief to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Accompanying Theo to Greenwich hadn’t exactly been part of her plan, but when he’d said, ‘I’ll order us a car,’ she hadn’t wanted to object. He had changed his plans for Ash, after all.

  And the car had been nice and roomy, and the journey had been fun—at least up to the moment when she’d put her hand on his arm. She hadn’t meant anything by it but there’d been that long moment, something in his eyes that had made her senses swim. She’d felt disorientated, unsure of the signals she was sending out, unsure of the signals she was receiving. She’d been glad when the car had pulled up at the observatory entrance.

  She slipped her sunglasses on and turned to watch him. He was busy surveying the London skyline, eyes fastened to the talking telescope. His face had been a picture when he’d spotted it, full of boyish delight.

  No one needs to talk to me.

  He seemed to be an intensely private person. She’d noticed a momentary glimmer of discomfort in his eyes when she’d told him she was a writer. He was a star in the business world. You had to be pretty fearless to survive in the world of tech. What could he possibly be scared of?

  She felt her phone vibrating in her hand, saw Ash’s face on the splash screen. ‘Hey, you!’

  ‘Dare I ask...?’

  ‘We’re here, at the observatory.’ She grinned. ‘Theo’s got his eye to the telescope right now.’

  ‘I owe you big time!’

  After Hal? He had to be kidding. ‘You don’t owe me anything. Where are you?’

  ‘Fifteen minutes away.’ He was happy; she could tell. ‘I’ve managed to book a meeting room inside the planetarium. They’re doing coffee for us, so just go in when you’re ready.’

  ‘Perfect timing! Theo’s just relinquished the telescope to a sobbing child...’ He was looking around, clearly trying to spot her. She raised a hand and, when he saw, he broke into a smile, started walking towards her with a long, easy stride.

  Ash laughed. ‘Is he that tyrannous?’

  ‘I was joking—he isn’t tyrannous at all.’ A toddler with a spinning helium balloon ploughed into Theo’s legs. She watched him absorbing the impact, dr
opping to his haunches, laughing, talking to the tot, smiling away, pointing to the bobbing balloon. ‘He’s sharp as a tack, but he has a heart, otherwise he wouldn’t have come.’ She dropped her gaze, noticing a scuff mark on her shoe. ‘When you arrive, I’m going to disappear, okay?’

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Of course it is. It’s just that...’ Theo makes my head spin ‘...you don’t want me hanging around while you make your presentation. I’ll only heckle and make a terrible nuisance of myself.’

  He chuckled. ‘We’ll catch up later, then?’

  ‘Yeah—just make sure you smash it out of the park, okay?’

  Copyright © 2020 by Ella Hayes

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  ISBN-13: 9781488065194

  Brooding Rebel to Baby Daddy

  Copyright © 2020 by Ally Blake

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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