The Princess And The Cowboy

by Lois Faye Dyer

  And I did. Lily pulled herself out of memories, shaking off the sadness that always accompanied remembering those dark days after Justin left. He broke my heart once. I don’t want him in my life again. I don’t need Justin Hunt.

  She walked into the living room, bending to pick up several of Ava’s toys scattered across the rug and tossing them into the wicker toy basket beneath the window.

  Her life was organized and on track, she reminded herself firmly. Because she had her own shop, she could take Ava to work with her, and she’d turned an empty office space into a nursery. She spent most of her time in the second-floor workroom with Ava nearby, working on the design and production phases of her business, while trusted staff ran her boutique below. Business was booming, and only last month, an article in the Seattle Times about the local fashion industry had called her a rising star, and dubbed her a true “Princess” Lily.

  It’s taken a long time to get my life back on track. The last thing I want is to let Justin disrupt it again.

  Except—he’s Ava’s father.

  The thought brought her to a standstill, motionless in the center of the cozy living room, with a stuffed teddy bear in one hand and a doggie pull-toy in the other.

  What if he wants to take Ava? She’d never considered the possibility that Justin might want custody. But she’d recognized the smile he’d given Ava. She suspected she had that same love-struck expression when she looked at her daughter. Smitten, she thought. He’d looked hopelessly smitten.

  While she could understand why anyone would fall in love with her precious daughter, the possibility Justin had done so was not to be contemplated. His obvious interest in her little girl opened whole new vistas of worry.

  Not only was Justin wealthy in his own right, he also had access to power through his billionaire father.

  She dropped onto the sofa cushion, frowning unseeingly at the forgotten toys in her hand. She needed a professional opinion, she decided. She’d call her attorney first thing in the morning.

  Fighting the urge to pack her bags, bundle Ava into her car and flee Seattle, she rose and finished picking up the scattered toys before retreating to her workroom just off the kitchen. She spent the next few hours trying to focus on an exclusive design for a client in Hollywood.

  She thought she’d dealt successfully with Justin’s sudden reappearance in her life. But when she went to bed just after ten-thirty, she couldn’t fall asleep. She spent the next eight hours alternately turning, tossing and infrequently dozing.

  He was haunting her dreams once again.

  Justin drove home in a daze.

  He’d had to force himself to walk down the sidewalk and get in the SUV. Every instinct in him demanded he stay with Lily and the little girl she held in her arms.

  He had a daughter. The concept shook him to the core.

  He never would have guessed that one look at a dainty little female with her mama’s eyes and his own black hair would have knocked him off balance.

  “I’m a father.” Even spoken aloud, the words seemed surreal. He’d walked away from a relationship with Lily to keep from harming her, but he’d left her to have his baby alone. Bad move. Really bad move. I should have made sure she was okay, he thought, filled with self-anger and disgust. I should have protected her.

  He didn’t know a damn thing about kids, let alone babies. And he knew even less about being a father. His mother had hooked up with several men during the twelve years he’d lived with her. None of them had been interested in being a father-figure. At best, they’d ignored him. At worst, he’d earned curses and slaps. He’d learned early to avoid the ones who used their fists. They’d taught him plenty about survival but nothing about being a good parent.

  At least Harry had never hit him or his brothers, he thought. The Old Man had been absorbed with HuntCom, sometimes to the extent that Justin wondered if he remembered he had sons in the house. But he never purposely abused or neglected them. There was always food on the table, adults hired to keep track of them and clean clothing without holes.

  All in all, Harry hadn’t been such a bad father. Just…not really there.

  Harry. What the hell am I going to do about Harry and his rules for the Bride Hunt? The thought shocked him out of his musings, and he realized he’d driven from Ballard to downtown Seattle on autopilot. Seeing Lily with Ava had changed everything, he realized.

  Beyond talking to Lily in the morning, he wasn’t sure what his next step would be. One thing he did know—he had to put his part in the Bride Hunt on hold.

  The sun had set and streetlights winked on as he reached Second Avenue and turned south toward his penthouse apartment above a HuntCom building in Pioneer Square. The roar of a capacity crowd watching the Mariners play baseball in Safeco Field reminded him he’d left the quiet of his Idaho ranch behind.

  A half block from his building, he hit a button on the dash, and by the time he’d turned into the underground parking lot, the gates were open. They eased silently shut behind him. Moments later, he stepped off the elevator and into the company apartment he called home whenever he was in Seattle.

  He flicked on the television, removed his boots and dropped onto the sofa, propping his feet on the coffee table.

  The Seattle newscaster warned motorists about the usual traffic backup on Interstate 5. Justin switched channels, clicking absentmindedly through the cable offerings, barely registering them.

  He was unable to concentrate on anything beyond the mind-numbing news that he and Lily had a daughter. He turned off the TV and paced the high-ceilinged area of the big loft, but his mind continued to spin.

  He’d never planned to marry or have children for very good reasons. There was no way a man with his background would make a competent, solid husband or father. He’d never been exposed to normal family dynamics, and had no clue what to do to create them.

  That’s why he’d broken off his relationship with Lily in the first place. Justin slid open the glass doors and stepped out onto the wide deck that ran the length of the apartment. He walked past the hot tub and the teak patio table and chairs, all covered with white canvas. The summer night was balmy, and he sat on the wide brick balustrade.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Lily and Ava.

  And about the unlikely odds that a man with his past wouldn’t end up harming them both.

  He’d come to live with Harry in Seattle when he was twelve, but Justin had always preferred the far-flung acres of the ranch in Idaho. He’d lived all over the world with his mother and an ever-changing series of her men friends until he was eight. Then she’d dumped him at the ranch with his grandfather, who was the foreman of the sprawling property. When the elderly man died four years later, his wife contacted Harry, and within twenty-four hours, the billionaire had arrived with his eldest son, Gray. Justin didn’t want to leave the only stable home he’d ever know, and when Harry told him to pack his belongings to return to Seattle, he’d disappeared into the mountains on horseback. He’d planned to outwait the businessman, but Harry sent Gray with a ranchhand to find him, making an offer he couldn’t refuse. He’d left Idaho for the Hunt family compound in the exclusive Seattle suburb of Medina with the guarantee that someday he’d own the ranch, free and clear.

  It was a promise Harry had kept—at least partially. Justin now owned sixty percent of the land he loved, having worked, invested and bought the acres from Harry.

  Harry’s sudden interest in marriage and grandkids didn’t make sense, especially since his own marriages had been disasters of near Biblical proportions. He’d married four beautiful women, and every one of them had turned out to be interested only in his money. Justin’s own mother had told him she’d married Harry because of his billions, and then purposely gotten pregnant. She’d planned to collect millions in return for granting Harry full custody, as his earlier wives had done. Unfortunately, Harry hadn’t believed she was pregnant, and after a furious argument, she’d walked out. She was so vengeful that she’
d kept Justin’s existence a secret from Harry for twelve years. Long enough for his mother’s lifestyle of rich men and wild parties to leave an indelible mark on Justin’s life.

  None of which makes any difference now, Justin thought. Except, given Harry’s history with women who’d turned out to be disasters as wives and mothers, Justin couldn’t help wondering why his father would want any of his sons to marry.

  Not to mention the fact that Harry himself hadn’t been anyone’s candidate for father of the year, Justin thought. Running a software company that grew at the speed of light, coupled with the hours Harry spent developing software innovations, pretty much ate up the waking hours of each day. There had been no Beaver Cleaver family moments in the Hunt household, no father and son bonding while tossing a football or baseball in the backyard. Harry rarely made it to school conferences or sporting events. Fortunately, when her girls were little and the Fairchilds were in town, Cornelia and her four daughters were faithful attendees at every public event.

  There’s no getting around it, Justin thought grimly. I haven’t got a clue how to be a husband or father. The learning curve to become barely competent has to be ninety degrees straight up from where I am.

  The wail of a sax drifted up from the jazz club a block away. The song was one of Lily’s favorites. They’d danced to its slow, seductive rhythm at the same club a dozen or more times during the three months they’d spent together.

  The sultry music stirred memories of those unforgettable nights. Justin felt as if Lily’s soft, seductive hands were stroking his bare skin with every pulse of the music.

  Abruptly, he left the deck to head inside for bed.

  Lily dressed with extra care the next morning, changing her mind a dozen times before she settled on a cream linen business suit with a silk green tank top, three-inch sling-back pumps and a chunky gold watch and earrings.

  She’d reached her attorney at 8:30 a.m., and their phone conversation had confirmed her worst fears. Justin had a legal right to be involved in Ava’s life, should he wish to do so. She could choose whether she wanted to fight him in court or voluntarily attempt to work out a reasonable solution. The attorney had strongly advised her to seek an amicable agreement, especially given that the man involved was Justin Hunt.

  Despite her resolve to never let Justin into her life again, it seemed she had no choice. But no matter what, she had to protect her little girl.

  A little before ten, she left Ava in her nursery just off the workroom, playing happily with one of the seamstresses. Lily opened her umbrella and quickly walked down Ballard Avenue and crossed the wet brick pavement to the restaurant where she’d agreed to meet Justin for coffee. She was determined to remain calm, businesslike and focused on Ava.

  She’d purposely chosen to meet him midmorning in hopes the breakfast trade would have left and the lunch crowd wouldn’t start arriving for another hour or more. The restaurant was one where she often met clients for lunch meetings, and she was familiar with its semiprivate seating. While she certainly wanted a measure of privacy, she didn’t want the intimacy of seeing Justin at either of their homes. The restaurant seemed a good compromise.

  Justin had arrived before her and he stood as she neared the table.

  “Hello, Lily.”

  “Good morning.” Unfortunately, her determination to remain distant and unaffected disappeared the moment she saw him. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, the perfect fit obviously custom-tailored. The cuffs were turned back, the white cotton a stark contrast to his tanned skin at his forearms and collar. A silver-buckled black belt was threaded through the loops of his jeans, and polished black cowboy boots covered his feet. Raindrops dampened the shoulders of his shirt and gleamed in his dark hair. Unlike her, he apparently hadn’t bothered with an umbrella.

  He held her chair and she caught the subtle hint of his cologne as she took a seat. The familiar male scent brought with it a wash of unwanted memories. Her heart stuttered and she drew in a silent deep breath.

  “I spoke with my attorney this morning,” she said, determined to set a brisk tone to the meeting, as he took his own seat across from her.

  “Did you?” he said, his face inscrutable as he surveyed her.

  “Yes.” She waited until the waiter had filled their cups and left a carafe of coffee before she continued. “Evidently, ours is not an unusual situation.”

  “It is to me,” he replied. “I’ve never had a child before Ava.”

  “I meant the circumstance of having a child together without being married,” Lily said evenly. “He’s handled a lot of cases for couples with this issue.”

  “I see.” Justin sat easily in his chair, his noncommital expression giving no indication as to what he was thinking. “And what advice did your attorney give you?”

  “He recommended we focus on Ava and what’s best for her.”

  “And you agree with that?”

  “Yes, of course.” Lily wished she knew what he was thinking. She lifted her cup and eyed him over the rim. “Do you agree?”

  “Absolutely.” His reply was prompt, with no hesitation.

  “Good.” She smiled with relief. “I’m delighted to hear that.”

  She hesitated, gathered her courage, and cut to the heart of the matter. “Now that you know you have a daughter, Justin, what do you plan to do about it, if anything?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly. I think we should start with my getting to know her.”

  “You mean, you want to visit?”

  “I suppose ‘visit’ is as good a term as any.” He leaned forward. “I want to spend time with her. I’ve missed the first year of her life, Lily. Don’t you think getting acquainted is long overdue?” A faint hint of anger surfaced.

  “The night you ended our…affair, you made it very clear you weren’t interested in marriage or children.” She met his gaze without flinching. “Don’t try to make me the bad guy here, Justin. It never occurred to me you’d want to know I was pregnant or that we had a daughter. In fact, just the opposite. Your words were very convincing—I believed you. If you didn’t mean them, you shouldn’t have said them.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before he shrugged. “You’re right. I should have made it clear that if you learned you were pregnant, I wanted to know. When did you find out?”

  “A few weeks after we broke up. I thought about telling you, but then I remembered your breakup speech. It seemed very clear to me that you had no interest in any commitment, including having a child.”

  “I didn’t, then.”

  Lily searched his face. “And now?”

  His eyes darkened. “Kids were never in my plan, Lily. But seeing Ava with you last night…” He paused, as if searching for words. “Let’s just say she’s changed all the rules. I’m her father. That means something to me, something important. I want to be a part of her life.”

  “Just how involved do you want to be?”

  “Can’t we start out slow? I’d like to spend time with her. Do you have any objections?”

  A million, she thought. Remember what the attorney said, Lily told herself. If you refuse to let him visit Ava, he can sue you for visitation, or custody. “I can live with you getting to know her,” she said, carefully evasive.

  “Good.” Justin appeared relieved. “When can we start?”

  Lily wanted to name a date weeks away but knew she shouldn’t delay the inevitable. The sooner he’s exposed to toddler-world reality, the faster he’s likely to get bored and bow out of our lives. “How about tomorrow? We’re usually home by four o’clock and Ava goes to bed between seven and seven-thirty. If you’d like to come by around four-thirty, you can read to her while I make dinner.”

  “I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?”

  “Just your patience,” she said dryly.

  Chapter Three

  “I thought you were only bringing your ‘patience’ tonight,” Lily commented when she greeted Justin promptly at four-thirty that afternoon.r />
  “I was downtown earlier and walked by a toy store. I couldn’t resist going in,” he explained. He carried a huge stuffed teddy bear under one arm; its soft plush brushed her arm as he stepped past her and into the small foyer. He handed her a bouquet of summer blooms, wrapped in green florist paper.

  “Were these in the toy store, too?” She lowered her face to the flowers, closing her eyes as she inhaled.

  “No, I got them at the Gazebo. That’s why I went downtown.” The bouquet was a mixture of lilies, soft pink roses, white baby’s breath and lavender, with feathery green ferns. He’d asked the florist to put together the flowers he remembered she especially liked. And without consciously planning to, he’d gone to the Gazebo because that was where they’d first met.

  “Oh. That was, um…” She faltered before visibly gathering herself. “They’re lovely, thank you,” she murmured, her green eyes darkened to jade when she looked up at him.

  “You’re welcome,” Justin replied, distracted by the sight of her soft lips and skin next to the lush rose petals. He’d brushed his thumb over one of the pink blooms earlier; he knew her lips and skin were just as velvety soft, just as fragrant.

  “Mama!” Ava’s clear voice lifted in demand, ending the brief moment.

  “Come in,” Lily said over her shoulder as she moved quickly away. “I can’t leave Ava alone for more than a couple of seconds,” she explained as he followed her. They crossed the living room and entered a family room/dining room/kitchencombo space. Light and airy, the far end of the open room held counters, sink, stove and fridge arranged in a U-shape around a tiled island. Directly in front of them was the living space with a comfortable sofa, matching club chair with ottoman, and cherry-wood armoire that held a media center.

  The furniture was arranged around an Oriental area rug centered on the polished hardwood floor. In the middle of the cream, red and brown wool rug was Ava.

  The little girl sat in some sort of kiddie seat that looked like a round play table fastened to a plastic saucer base. She held a rattle in one hand and was busily pounding it on the hard plastic tabletop.