One Baby, Two Secrets

by Barbara Dunlop

  She studied his expression. “Is this a joke? Some kind of con?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  She typed.

  The photo was small, but it was clearly Brody. He was the second son of the Earl of Calder. She let go of the door handle, somewhat relieved.

  “You can use my computer to look further,” he offered.

  She glanced up. “You’re a viscount?”

  “My older brother, Blane, is a viscount. When my father dies, Blane will be Earl. That’s how it works.”

  “But you’re the son of an earl.”

  “Guilty.”

  She was thoroughly confused. “What are you doing? Why are you here? You’re taking a huge risk. Why not just call the police?”

  “That was the first thing I tried,” he said, looking suddenly tired. “On both sides of the Atlantic.”

  She moved back toward the sofa, her fear dissipating. She found she believed him. “This is a lot to take in.”

  “I understand that.”

  She studied him, wondering if there was something she should have seen, something that should have stood out, setting him apart from the rest. Then she realized there was. She’d come to him for a reason. Of everyone near Quentin and Annabelle, Brody was the one she’d innately trusted.

  When she looked at him now, his honesty, his intelligence and his integrity shone through.

  She sat down. “Quentin is a thief.”

  “He is.”

  Her mind cataloged the implications and the possibilities. “And you’re trying to prove it, to get him fairly and justly charged, convicted and maybe sent to jail.”

  “I am.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay. I’m in. What do we do?”

  Brody smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. This is for Annabelle. I should be thanking you.” If Brody was right, and if they could prove it, she’d have more than a fighting chance with Annabelle.

  “We think there might be proof on Quentin’s home computer.”

  “Who is we?”

  “My head programmer, Will Finlay, and me.”

  “So that’s what you were doing the day you said we were looking for your watch.” She saw all of his actions through a whole new lens.

  “Again, guilty. There was never any watch.”

  “You kissed me to throw me off.” Her mind went back to the moment.

  “I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you. But I’d have done it again then to keep Bert and Ernie off the scent.” He paused. “Heck, I’d have done it again then or any other time, and with any excuse, or with no excuse at all.”

  The atmosphere shifted, their kisses thrown out front and center. The air seemed to warm, and the room seemed to shrink around them.

  “I knew you never quite fit,” he said, and he shifted across the sofa towards her. “You were crazy and sane, smart and scattered. Your ridiculous clothes and outlandish hair never meshed with your core personality. The real you kept slipping through.”

  “I kept wanting to trust you,” she said.

  “I’m an honorable man.”

  “Is that a viscount thing?”

  He reached up and slowly cradled her cheek. “That’s my brother’s title.”

  She liked the feel of his hand. She loved his closeness. She was so relieved that they were being honest with each other.

  “You were conning me while I was conning you.”

  “I don’t know who won that round.” He touched his forehead to hers.

  “Call it a draw.”

  “Sure. But in honor of our new spirit of honesty and full disclosure. Fair warning. In about three seconds I’m going to kiss you.”

  “I think...” She tipped her head for his kiss. “It’s good to be on the same side.”

  “I think so, too.”

  His lips claimed hers, tender at first but then with a deepening passion and a hardening purpose. She wrapped her arms around his neck, molding her breasts to his body, giving in to the desire she’d been fighting for days.

  He was sturdy and strong, an anchor point she desperately needed. She opened to him, and their kiss went on and on, sexy and impatient, probing and exhilarating.

  His hand slid to the small of her back, splaying over her spine. He shifted her to his lap, his slacks arousing friction against the backs of her bare legs.

  His lips moved to her neck, planting hot, moist kisses in the sensitive hollows. He pushed a strap of her dress from her shoulder, kissing his way to the tip. Her nipples hardened and tingled, aching for his touch.

  He read her mind, and he cupped her breast.

  She moaned his name, arching her back, sighing with pleasure as he pushed her dress down. It pooled at her waist.

  “You are incredible,” he whispered, then he kissed a path from her neck to her breasts.

  She all but melted in his arms, letting the pleasure wash over her.

  Her dress rode up, and his thumb brushed the lace of her panties.

  “I want you,” he said on a rasp. “All of you. Every inch...”

  “I want you, too,” she managed to say. “Now.” She’d never been so brazen, but she had no intention of stopping him.

  He stripped off her panties in one deft motion.

  Her body contracted with intense sensations, the cool air, his hot touch, his kisses that went on and on, along her neck, up to her mouth.

  Her lips were swollen and burning and eager for more. She turned in his lap, facing him, straddling him, gripping his shoulders tightly. She had no desire to control the wild passion building between them. For now, for a moment, in this tiny space and time, nothing existed but Brody.

  She plucked at his shirt buttons, releasing them one by one. Then she pulled the sides open and pushed his sleeves down. His shoulders were magnificent, smooth, toned and tanned. She kissed one of them, tasting his skin, smelling his skin.

  He stripped off his shirt, wrapping his strong arms around her, pressing them together. The heat of his chest fanned the pulse in her core. She reached for his pants, releasing the zipper. He helped, raising her up, freeing himself, then splaying her hips with his hands and bringing them together as one.

  She gasped, staring into his eyes. “That is...”

  “You’re amazing,” he whispered as he started to move.

  “Oh, Brody.”

  “I know.”

  Pleasure and joy pulsated through her. She rocked her hips in time with his. She held on to his shoulders, tighter and tighter. She kissed him again, their tongues tangling, deeper and deeper still.

  The world disappeared. Her whole body was alive, alight with the buzz of pleasure. She turned hot and then cold and then hot again.

  He trailed his fingers on the curve of her breast, circling in, closer and closer until he reached the center.

  She cried out, bucking against him, striving desperately to close any last space between them.

  He wrapped her in his arms. Then he turned her, pressing her back onto the sofa, stretching them chest to chest, thigh to thigh, toe to toe. He linked their hands, raising them over her head.

  Then he watched her. He held her gaze, and she felt like she was falling headlong into his polished-pewter eyes. His strokes were taking her to heaven, and she let it come. She lay still. She absorbed his pace. She let him into her body, her mind and her soul.

  The pulses of pleasure came faster and harder, as she soared to an unbearable height.

  “Kate!” he cried out.

  His body shuddered around her, and she catapulted to the edge of oblivion.

  She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t move.

  She was floating, blissfully.

 
“Kate?” His voice was a long way off.

  “Hmmm?” She wasn’t capable of forming actual words.

  “You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

  She smiled. Then she opened her eyes. He was blurry in front of her.

  “You’re very good at this,” she said.

  “I’m not that good.” He kissed her shoulder. “I’m not this good. I think it must be you.”

  “I’m not that good, either.” She had never had sex that came close to this experience.

  “Then it must be us.”

  “I bet it was the relief.”

  Now that it was over, she could take a step back and analyze her intense feelings for Brody.

  “The relief?”

  “You’re going to help me with Quentin, with Annabelle. It’s a huge relief to have someone on my side.”

  “And that translates into mind-blowing sex?”

  “It seemed to.”

  “Because, Kate.” He looked completely genuine. “I don’t know what sex is like where you come from, but that was off the charts.”

  She knew what he meant, but she wanted to keep it light. “You don’t have sex that good in Scotland?”

  “Man, I’m going to have to visit Seattle.”

  Kate grinned.

  He captured her hand and kissed her fingers. Then he smoothed back her hair, his voice going lower. “You have rocked my world.”

  She gave in to honesty. “You rocked mine, too.”

  He wrapped her in another tight hug.

  The last thing she wanted to do was break the spell. But they were running out of night, and their problems would still be there in the morning.

  “But right now,” she said. “We need to talk about Quentin.”

  He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I know.”

  Brody rose, and she watched him stride naked to the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later with two fluffy robes and dropped one beside her.

  “You know this moment could be truly sublime,” he said, shrugging into the other. “We could order some room service, feed each other truffles and champagne, talk about our hopes and dreams and plans for the future.”

  She sat up and put on the robe, grateful for the warmth. “Our plans for the future are to annihilate Quentin.”

  “And that hardly lends itself to afterglow, does it?” He sat next to her.

  “Buck up, Brody.” She gave him a playful elbow. “Tell me how I can help.”

  “Aren’t you the no-nonsense schoolteacher.”

  “If I can keep twenty first graders in line, I can handle one almost-viscount. What should I do?”

  He sat back, a serious expression coming over his face. “The best thing you can do is spy on Bert and Ernie.”

  “I really don’t like those guys.”

  “Like I said, your instincts are good.”

  “Is there a reason you think they know something?”

  “They’re not your run-of-the-mill bodyguards. If I was running a criminal enterprise, those are the guys I’d want on my team.”

  “Do they seem like overkill to you?” she asked.

  “That’s a good question.” Brody seemed to consider the point. “If all Quentin did was steal our computer code, why does he need those guys? He needs techies to incorporate the code into his game. And he needs a sales staff to get it to market. But why those two running around his house all the time?”

  “Maybe he’s stealing something else.”

  “It’s possible.” Brody looked unconvinced. “Even if he is, in Quentin’s world, you need nerds for thieves, not thugs.”

  “I’ll do my best to find out.”

  Kate might prefer to stay away from Bert and Ernie, but she agreed with Brody’s assessment. And she was grateful for his help. Her chances of helping Annabelle had now drastically improved, and it was thanks to Brody.

  Nine

  Kate and Brody slept for a couple of hours, and then she returned to the mansion to execute their new plan.

  It was quiet there, with no sign of Christina and Annabelle on the main floor. So Kate made her way up the staircase. Near the top, she heard Annabelle crying.

  The crying grew louder. She found herself hurrying, pushing open the nursery door, wondering what could be wrong.

  She was surprised to find Annabelle alone. As she rushed to pick her up, a figure on the floor caught the corner of her eye.

  “Christina?” she said out loud as she scooped Annabelle from her crib.

  The baby’s eyes were swollen, her face red, her nose running. Kate cradled her against her shoulder as she rushed to Christina’s side. She was unconscious, lying motionless, her face pale, her hair streaked with sweat. Her forehead was hot to the touch.

  “Christina?” Kate tried again, juggling Annabelle and reaching into her pocket for her phone.

  Christina’s eyes blinked open. They were glassy and confused.

  “Are you okay?” Kate asked, even though it was obvious she was not. “I’m calling for an ambulance.”

  “Annabelle,” Christina croaked out.

  “I’ve got her,” said Kate. “She’s upset, but she’s fine.”

  Christina tried to sit up.

  “Don’t,” ordered Kate.

  “She’s hungry.”

  “I’ll get her a bottle.” Kate pressed 911.

  “Fire, police or ambulance?” came the immediate response on the line.

  “Ambulance,” said Kate, and she gave them the address.

  “You need to feed her,” Christina mumbled weakly.

  “I will.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

  “Help,” Kate called out.

  The footsteps stopped, and Rex was in the doorway. When he took in the scene, his jaunty, expectant smile was gone.

  “I’ve called an ambulance,” said Kate. “Christina’s burning up, and Annabelle needs a bottle.”

  “I’ll get someone to help,” said Rex.

  He disappeared, and almost immediately one of the housekeepers entered the nursery.

  “I’ll stay here, miss, and someone will meet the ambulance downstairs,” the woman said.

  “Thank you,” Kate said to the housekeeper. “I’ll get Annabelle a bottle.” Kate gave Christina’s hand a squeeze, but Christina seemed oblivious.

  Kate juggled Annabelle as she walked, shushing her and promising food was on its way.

  She’d watched Christina prepare bottles, so she knew where everything was kept, how to heat up the formula, and to test the temperature on her wrist. She also knew how to hold Annabelle. It was a bit awkward, but between the two of them, they got it sorted out, and Annabelle settled down.

  She heard the ambulance arrive, and people going up and down the stairs. She was grateful that Christina was going to be in good hands. After a while, the noise subsided, and Rex came into the kitchen.

  “How is she?” Kate asked him.

  “They took her away.”

  It wasn’t exactly an answer, but she supposed that was all she was going to get. She hoped it was nothing serious. She’d come to like Christina very much.

  “How are you doing?” Rex asked, moving closer to her.

  Kate felt her guard going up. His tone was solicitous, but there was something about him that always seemed calculating and cunning. He tried to flirt with her whenever he got the chance. So far, she hadn’t responded with any encouragement. Yet he persisted.

  “We’re fine.” She had to struggle not to feel intimidated. “I mean, Annabelle’s fine. She’s the only one we need to worry about.”

  His glance went fleetingly to Annabelle. “I assume that smell is her?”

  “I decided h
unger was more pressing than a fresh diaper.”

  Rex wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure you made the right choice.”

  “That’s only because she’s quiet. If she was still crying, you’d agree with me.”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  His gaze on her was distracting, and it made her want to shift in her seat. She wished he would back up a bit. As it was, with her sitting, it felt like he was looming over her.

  “Is Quentin up?” she asked, instinct telling her to remind him there were other people in the house.

  “Not that I’ve seen.”

  “He must have heard the ambulance.”

  Rex gave a shrug. “He’s a sound sleeper.”

  He awkwardly wriggled Annabelle’s foot, and it was all Kate could do not to slap his hand away. She didn’t want him touching the baby.

  “So, tell me, Kate,” he said. “How are you enjoying LA?”

  “I grew up in LA.”

  “Not in a place like this.”

  She found herself glancing at the surroundings. “No, not in a place like this.”

  “You like it?”

  “What’s not to like?” She tried to figure out where he was going with this conversation. Surely, after all the worry and concern only minutes ago, it wasn’t the time now for chitchat.

  He sat down in the chair next to her at the table.

  She resisted an urge to scoot back.

  “How long are you planning to stay?” He rested his hand on the tabletop.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.”

  Rex was plummeting along with Bert and Ernie on her trust meter. She didn’t know how he might factor in to Quentin’s crimes, but she definitely didn’t like being alone with him.

  “Oh, I suspect you’ve given it some thought.” He moved his hand closer to her.

  Her grip tightened on Annabelle, and the baby squirmed. Kate forced herself to relax.

  She pretended to misinterpret his question. “I can take care of Annabelle as long as Christina’s sick.”

  “Is that what this is about?” He brushed the back of his knuckles against her forearm. “Annabelle.”

  Kate didn’t like him getting anywhere close to the truth. She subtly pulled away from his touch. “She is my niece.”