The Boss's Baby Affair Page 15

  “The same people will say that I wasn’t interested in Jilly’s pregnancy, that I wasn’t even present for the baby’s birth, that I went away for long periods for work and didn’t even return when my child was ill—and it’s all true.”

  He sounded so wretched that Candace’s heart went out to him.

  Nick settled down on the carpet beside her. Jennie stretched her hands out to the toys scattered around Candace, and he set her down. Both of them watched the baby as she tried to crawl toward the nearest blocks.

  “How could I ever have known that she would wrap herself around my heart?” His gaze met Candace’s. “I won’t lose her. Desmond doesn’t realize what he’s started. I’ve already instructed my lawyers to oppose it. I think his suit is based on a pack of lies, but I’m not prepared to risk losing.” Nick shifted closer. “Candace, we’re going to make it clear he has no claim to Jennie—no biological tie exists between Jennie and Desmond.”

  “But Jilly adopted Jennie.”

  “I’m still waiting for proof that the adoption went through. You and I are Jennie’s biological parents—and we both love her.” His hand settled on hers where it pressed into the carpet. “I don’t think this is about Jennie—I think this is about clinging on to Jilly. He can’t accept that she’s gone.”

  Candace shifted her weight to enable her to turn her hand palm up, and laced her fingers with his, drawing immeasurable comfort from his touch. She’d been so careful to stay out of Nick’s reach for the past couple of days in case she gave away her newly discovered feelings to him. The tender emotions were so precious, she had to shelter them from the bruising and battering that were inevitable.

  But this time his touch wasn’t about sex. It was about so much more.

  “It must be hard for Desmond to have lost his daughter.” Watching Jennie playing, she couldn’t stop a twinge of sympathy for Jilly’s father from stirring within her. How terrible to lose a child. “Poor man.”

  “Don’t waste too much sympathy on him. I’m sure he only came up with this idea after seeing you with me on Sunday.”

  “You don’t suppose—” She broke off, not wanting to voice the unkind thought.

  “I don’t suppose…what?”

  “You spoke about Desmond trying to hurt you through Alison on Sunday. You don’t suppose he’s only doing this to hurt you again? That it’s not about Jennie at all?”

  Nick didn’t respond, but the grip of his fingers grew tighter. Jennie was gnawing at a block. Her gums had been swollen, the next tooth would be through very soon.

  “Such an overreaction would be insane,” she said finally, hoping her response wasn’t misplaced.

  “Not for Desmond,” said Nick slowly. “He’s more than capable of that kind of malice. I simply hadn’t considered that he might want to hurt me that much.”

  She turned her head and met his gaze. “Why would he want to do such a thing?”

  “It’s a power thing…he couldn’t get me to bend to his will. Perhaps he thinks Jennie would be my breaking point.”

  “And would she be?”

  Candace held her breath as she waited for his answer. This was crucially important, far more important than the throwaway tone of the question suggested.

  There was a flash of something…vulnerability?…in the navy depths of his eyes. “It would kill me to lose Jennie.”

  The simple intensity of his response rocked her to the foundations of her existence. He cared. Candace wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, only that it did.

  He loved Jennie.

  She placed her other hand over his, cradling his hand between both of hers. Her love for him flowed through her fingers, and she hoped it would give him the strength he needed to do what was right.

  Without taking his eyes from her, he raised her hands and placed a kiss very carefully, first on the back of one hand, then on the other.

  A rush of emotion overtook her.

  Currents electrified the space between them. A compelling need to defuse the sudden tension vibrating between them made her say with forced lightness, “Boy, you certainly picked the family to marry into.”

  Nick shook his head. “They did the picking.”

  She remembered what he’d told her about how Jilly and her father had all but blackmailed him into marriage, and his suppressed frustration became totally understandable.

  At last she said, “What are we going to do?”

  We?

  Nick stared at the woman sitting, legs outstretched, on the floor beside him, while their baby inched forward half crawling, half sliding as she tried to reach for a brightly colored ball. The firm hold of Candace’s hand warmed him.

  “It’s not your problem,” he said automatically.

  Her eyes sparkled. “Of course it’s my problem. I’m Jennie’s mother. You’re not going to leave me out in the cold on this.”

  “It would weaken Desmond’s crazy suit to announce that Jennie is not Jilly’s child—she’s yours.” It was a dangerous move. And it would give Candace an advantage that he would never be able to regain. Still, it might be a risk worth taking. “That way Desmond can claim no biological tie with the baby.”

  “It will cause a scandal.”

  “I don’t care.” But he hadn’t thought about how it would affect her, and he discovered that he didn’t have any desire to see her hurt or humiliated. “Will it matter to you if I announce it to the world?”

  “Of course not!” A luminosity lit her gray eyes that made her more beautiful than ever. “I can think of nothing more wonderful than being publicly branded as Jennie’s mother.”

  The moment of truth had come—if he announced that she was Jennie’s mother, there would be no going back, there’d be no more talk of her leaving…

  When she’d first told him that she was Jennie’s mother, he’d wanted her out of the baby’s life at all costs. But she’d called to something deep and dark and primitive in him, something he didn’t fully comprehend.

  All Nick knew was that he wasn’t going to let her go.

  The decision he’d come to the night he’d lost his senses returned from where he’d buried it at the back of his consciousness…it was a plan. A plan that might even work.

  Thinking about it, he realized it was a team solution. We. He was starting to like the sound of that.

  “Then marry me,” he said simply.

  “What?”

  Her eyes darkened with disbelief.

  “If you marry me, then as her biological parents we will be able to show any judge that living with us is the best solution for Jennie. Together we will refute any evidence that Desmond might choose to present that Jennie is neglected. She has a father and mother who love her, and a safe and secure home. What more could any child need?”

  And best of all, not only would he get to keep Jennie… Candace would never be able to leave.

  “It’s the best solution for Jennie,” said Nick.

  The best solution for Jennie? If she married him, Candace knew she would get hurt. Marrying a man she was falling in love with, living with him day by day, but never loved by him in return…

  It sounded like hell on earth.

  In her shock she couldn’t think of anything logical to say, so she stated the obvious. “I’m not the kind of woman a man like you marries.”

  “What is the kind of woman a man like me marries?” One dark eyebrow arched up. “Someone like Jilly?”

  Help.

  “She’d be better suited to be your wife than me.”

  “I have to disagree.” One of his hands let hers go and he cupped her face, his thumb stroking her jawline. “I don’t think anyone would make a better mother for Jennie than you would.”

  Her insides melted.

  “You might even already be pregnant with a sister or brother to Jennie. I didn’t use protection the other night—or are you on the pill?”

  Unfair.

  “No, I’m not. But it’s highly unlikely…I’ve already worked it o
ut. So don’t feel you have to marry me for that reason.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. But marrying me will be the best thing to do.”

  Why was he suggesting this? Nick had spent seven years in a loveless union. Last time he’d been trapped into it. This time he was volunteering it of his own accord. What was he thinking by proposing such an arrangement?

  The answer came to her at once.

  He was doing it for Jennie.

  Nick was prepared to sacrifice himself. Out of his love for his daughter.

  For Jennie.

  Candace glanced down at the baby playing obliviously with blocks…and her heart ached. Tears pricked at the back of her throat. She’d come here to work as Jennie’s nanny because she’d been convinced that Nick was neglecting her baby. She’d known he didn’t love Jennie with the same depth of emotion that she did. She’d been ready to take Jennie away.

  Now he’d just proved conclusively how much he loved their daughter.

  Drawing a deep shaky breath, Candace returned her attention to the man who had turned all her assumptions about him upside down. “But what about you?” It was a cry from her heart. She didn’t want him to give up so much for his daughter. “It’s certainly not the best solution for you—you’ll be trapped in a marriage you don’t want all over again.”

  “This time it will be different.”

  Her heart leaped. Was it possible that he was starting to feel the same way about her as she felt about him?

  Candace was almost afraid to ask. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he must hear it, sitting so close to her. “How will it be different?”

  She tensed, wired, every nerve ending expectant as she waited for his answer.

  One finger trailed down her cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “This time I will have a lover.”

  So he hadn’t said he loved her. But lover was good, wasn’t it? Candace wavered. No, she decided, she wanted more; she needed him to tell her he loved her. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “But how will this be different? Jilly was your lover, too.”

  The teasing finger stilled. “I never made love to Jilly.”

  Was he saying that he’d only had sex with his dead wife, that he’d never loved her? Did that mean he loved her, Candace?

  “I know you didn’t love her.”

  “I didn’t love her, nor did I make love to her.”

  “What do you mean…?” Voice trailing away, she waited. Was Nick saying something else altogether…something she could hardly believe was true?

  “You’ve seen my bedroom. It was mine alone. Jilly had her own suite, her own bed. I never shared it. We never slept together.” His mouth compressed at her incredulous look. “There was no sex. Not for seven long years.”

  “You once told me there were no other women—” Candace broke off unable to finish.

  “That’s right.”

  My God.

  No wonder he’d been so…desperate. Now he was telling her that he expected their marriage to have sex. Yet he’d never said he loved her.

  Stupid! He wasn’t marrying her because he loved her. He was marrying her to gain Jennie a set of biological parents—a set of parents who loved their daughter and would make it clear to any court.

  Nick was making the same mistake of going into a loveless marriage with the best intentions for the wrong reasons all over again. Except this time, instead of saving Bertha and Henry, he was trying to save Jennie. And this time sex would be part of the deal.

  The pain below her heart grew more intense.

  Nick Valentine deserved to find a woman he could really love. For all his life. Candace wished that woman were her. But it wouldn’t be her. Even though he was the father of her baby…and the man she loved.

  Nick would never be hers.

  Shaking her head, she said slowly, “I’m sorry Nick, I can’t marry you.”

  Not even for Jennie.

  Nick had retreated to the sanctuary of his study, where he’d poured himself one measure of single-malt Scotch, then collapsed onto the burgundy love seat.

  He’d been so certain she would say yes.

  If Candace married him, it would’ve been a tidy solution, and Jennie would’ve been safe. He couldn’t fathom why she’d refused the most sensible course of action under the circumstances.

  There’d been flashes of time over the past few days when he could’ve sworn she desired him almost as much as he craved her. It had been there in the way her gaze flicked to him, then quickly away, in the soft flush of color that followed, in the slight stutter she developed when he stood too close.

  But she’d turned him down flat.

  Well, he supposed it served him right for being so sure of her.

  He raised the heavy crystal glass to his lips and took a sip, savoring the smoky flavor.

  It wasn’t over yet. Nick was determined to escalate that reciprocal passion he’d sensed in her. He was convinced he could change her no to a yes.

  He knew he didn’t have a lot of time. He’d have to move fast if he wanted a marriage to thwart the thorn in his side that Desmond had become. He had to move now.

  If he wanted to keep Candace.

  Thirteen

  Nick had rarely entered Jilly’s suite of rooms during their marriage.

  Now as he crossed the threshold he noticed that it smelled…empty…like a hotel room long deserted. The curtains were drawn, dimming the room. He flicked the light switch, picked up a remote and activated it. The curtains opened and sunlight filtered in through the lacy blinds beneath.

  The bedcover in Jilly’s signature gray and white and lime lay smooth and uncreased. Two crystal perfume bottles stood on the dresser, and a Lalique vase stuffed with silk tulips occupied a writing desk beside the windows.

  Feeling like an intruder, Nick crossed to where a dressing room opened off Jilly’s en suite. Her clothes had already been packed up and given to charity. The wall safe was empty. Nick had placed Jilly’s jewels in a bank deposit box in trust for Jennie, the day after the funeral.

  Any hope that he might discover secrets that had not died with Jilly was fading rapidly. The bathroom cupboards held only unopened toiletries, clean towels and a hairdryer. Impersonal items waiting for the next occupant. The personal items Jilly had used were long gone.

  Back in her bedroom he checked the dresser drawers, her bedside table…all empty…as he’d expected. He’d gone through them himself. Nick moved on to her writing desk, already knowing what he’d find.

  The first drawer revealed her wallet, a checkbook, an expired passport and a folder of canceled credit cards. The next drawer down contained Jilly’s lime-green laptop and an iPhone. The final drawer held a box of Jilly’s gold embossed stationery, envelopes, her address book…exactly as she’d left them. He lifted the stationery box out and opened it. Letterheads with Jilly Valentine surrounded by tiny pink hearts. He smiled. How Jilly. There were thank-you notes, too. He put the box back and started to close the drawer, then paused.

  Taking out the stationery box again, he lifted the large black address book, and pulled out a second black volume. Jilly’s appointment book. Next he opened the drawer above and extracted her laptop with its power cable.

  Seating himself on the padded desk chair, Nick flipped open the cover of the five-year appointment book. Finally he booted the laptop up. In less time than expected he’d found a file labeled Journal. Opening it, Nick started to read.

  The following morning, Nick strode past an unsuspecting receptionist and, at the end of the corridor, entered the corner office unannounced.

  Desmond Perry sat behind his desk, puffed up as an angry toad. Red-faced, he demanded, “What’s the meaning of bursting into my office like this?”

  Nick took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk, and leaned back. “If you prefer, I can arrange to see you another time with my lawyer in attendance. Or you can listen to what I have to say now.”

  Desmond stopped bluster
ing. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to stop harassing my sister and brother-in-law and tell your crony at NorthPark to withdraw his eviction notice.” Nick paused, while Desmond stared at him. “I want you to forget about trying to acquire enough of a stake in Valentine’s to force a takeover—yes, I know about your plan to develop the land, not for high-density apartments, but for a shopping mall in partnership with NorthPark.”

  “How did—”

  Nick held up a hand. “And you’re going to halt all legal action to get custody of Jennie.”

  “Why should I do anything you want?”

  Nick started with what was most important to him first. Jennie. “Jennie isn’t Jilly’s daughter.”

  “I know that.”

  It appeared that Candace was right; Desmond was only trying to hurt him though his daughter, enough to make him pursue a frivolous legal suit purely to frustrate Nick. But did he know who her real mother was?

  “Then you know you have no right to her.”

  The older man picked up a pen and tapped it against the wooden edge of the desk. “My daughter adopted her—she’s my grandchild.”

  Nick’s first reaction was to lean over the desk and punch Desmond, as he’d been dying to do for weeks. Instead, he said, “I intend to challenge that adoption. I don’t want my daughter growing up like Jilly did, with a guardian whose only way of showing his love is to buy her whatever she wants.”

  Desmond blinked, and Nick regretted his hotheaded reply. The man had lost a daughter. Then he remembered the pain that had poured out in Jilly’s diary. It was no wonder that the only way she knew to respond to being in love was to try to buy the loved one.

  It had been a disastrous course of action; but spoiled, emotionally starved Jilly had been too insecure to know any other way.

  Nick held his father-in-law’s gaze, until Desmond looked away first.

  “I found the journal Jilly kept. It made for very interesting reading.” That jerked Desmond’s attention back to him, Nick noticed with satisfaction. “She poured everything into it—even the reason why the IVF was done offshore—she knew she would never get her harebrained scheme past the ethics committee that approves surrogate arrangements in New Zealand. When I gave the necessary signature for my sperm to be transferred offshore, I had no knowledge that it wouldn’t be used to impregnate my wife, but rather the surrogate she had chosen.”