Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1)

by Floyd, Jacie

  Ignoring him, Kara sat in the rocker, patted the child’s back, and hummed a quiet tune. Wyatt moved around the immaculate room, pausing when the child fussed. Kara continued crooning to him, and he settled down again.

  Wyatt examined a cluster of objects on the dresser. A small carousel. A teething ring. A photograph in a silver frame inscribed with name, month and day of birth. He picked up the frame and rubbed his finger over the inscription. Sean Connor Enderley. Nice name. He took some comfort in noting the child had Kara’s last name.

  Hmmm. Connor was Wyatt’s middle name, too. The farfetched possibility that had been nagging at him all evening exploded full-blown into his head.

  He searched the picture of a wrinkled, red-faced newborn with golden eyes too big for his face, searching in vain for a resemblance to Kara. He set it down, reached for an engraved pewter cup, but his gaze returned to the picture.

  As he lifted the picture and stared, his pulse hammered. The blood rushed from his head.

  Could it be? He would swear he knew that face. He recognized that child.

  His child?

  Almost an exact duplicate of this picture stood a thousand miles away in his mother’s sitting room, beside a similar photo of his sister and her son. Amazed that he hadn’t seen the resemblance as soon as he saw the photograph, Wyatt shook his head.

  He rechecked the birth date. July 10. A quick calculation told him the timing fit with her visit to Atlanta.

  He had a child! The thought raced on an endless loop through his head even though he was too numb to know what to do with the idea.

  He and Kara had a child.

  The truth blindsided him in a tender spot he didn't even know he had, rushing him with intense feelings he couldn’t name.

  Slowly, he turned toward Kara and Sean. She stopped rocking the baby and sat motionless, wearing a stricken, vulnerable expression. The color drained from her face. She gathered the child more closely in her arms.

  Wyatt crossed the room and knelt beside them. He brushed his hand through the boy’s soft curls. Sean lifted his head and looked at Wyatt with familiar amber eyes. The child squirmed until Kara turned him around and sat him in her lap to face Wyatt.

  Wyatt’s pulse accelerated as he confronted Kara. “Don’t you think it’s time for me to meet my son?”

  Chapter Three

  “Way past time.” Kara nearly choked on her fear, but she forced herself to wrestle it into a dark corner of her heart. “This is Sean.” Attempting to conceal her terror, the simple words emerged in a monotone as she carefully held her son in her arms.

  From the moment she’d spotted Wyatt at the gallery, she’d accepted the inevitability of him discovering her secret. She had hoped… planned to tell him before he saw Sean and added up the facts on his own. Now, it was ten minutes past too late. She prepared herself to compromise in any way necessary to protect Sean from the fallout.

  But Wyatt simply stared at the baby in mute fascination. He visually examined the child with the same curiosity she’d seen him train on any subject that interested him.

  Kara allowed his father to stroke a chubby cheek, caress a little shoulder, tug a covered foot, and jiggle a tiny hand.

  Like father, like son, Sean followed suit. He patted Wyatt’s face, rubbed the whiskers on his jaw, and chewed on the smooth texture of a Hermes necktie. Kara pulled the expensive silk out of his mouth, but Sean’s interest in the touching game continued. Performing one of his favorite tricks, he pressed on the nose in front of him, and honked. “Beep, beep.”

  Delighted, Wyatt laughed aloud. “My God, he’s perfect.”

  “Thank you. I think so, too.” Kara refused to be charmed again by some man threatening to tear her life apart.

  “Tell him who I am.”

  “Wyatt...” She closed her eyes, searching for a way to postpone the revelation. Once she said the words aloud, their lives would never be the same. “He won’t understand.”

  “Tell him. I think we all need to hear it.”

  Unable to deny him this request after denying him so much, she lifted the baby up and stood him in her lap. “Sean, this is your father. Can you say hello?”

  “H’llo-o.” Sean placed enthusiastic emphasis on the last syllable and added a round of patty-cake for good measure.

  “Will he let me hold him?”

  Kara gulped back another wave of fear as Wyatt reached out to take her child from her. “He hasn’t been around many strangers.”

  And with the perverse nature of two-year-old children, Sean shocked her by going right into Wyatt’s out-stretched arms. She folded hers over the pain erupting inside her chest.

  “Whoa, he’s heavier than I expected.” Wyatt hefted his son like a sack of potatoes. “How much does he weigh?”

  “Twenty-two pounds.”

  “Is that normal for his age?” Wyatt settled him against his chest, placing the round baby face on eye level with his chiseled, masculine features.

  She struggled to answer around the lump in her throat. “Very normal.”

  Sean pulled on Wyatt’s ears with both hands. When the adult failed to do anything interesting in response, his son wriggled to climb down. Wyatt held him firmly, but Sean made his objections known with a loud screech.

  “What should I do?” Wyatt’s eyes widened in alarm.

  “Give him to me.” Kara pulled him away from his father, relieved to have the child back where he belonged. “It’s late and he’s tired. I doubt he’ll calm down with you here. Give me a few minutes to put him to bed, then I’ll join you downstairs.” She took a deep breath. She needed to calm down more than Sean did.

  “I’ve already missed too much.” Wyatt didn’t budge. “You both need to get used to having me around.”

  The firm set of his jaw warned her he wouldn’t leave. Flustered by her inability to control the situation, Wyatt, or her reaction to his presence, she resumed her seat in the rocker. Observing the nightly routine, Sean’s father took up a position by the door. His scrutiny sent all of Kara’s defense mechanisms on high alert.

  Her soft lullaby soon had Sean nodding against her shoulder. Despite Wyatt’s intrusion and the awkwardness of the situation, she searched for the joy and inner peach she achieved every night when Sean nestled against her, thumb tucked in his mouth. His eyelids drooped, but he roused up long enough to say, “Blanky.”

  Kara reached for it, but Wyatt came forward. “What does he need?”

  “The blue quilt. On the crib.”

  Unfamiliar with the ritual, Wyatt tried to spread it across the child’s back, but Sean tucked it in the crook of his arm. Within seconds, he relaxed with sleep.

  She extended the peaceful moment for her own pleasure, letting his sweet existence center and calm her. After she laid him down, he assumed his preferred sleeping position. Kara patted the bottom he stuck in the air.

  Ignoring Wyatt, she moved about the room, picking up Sean’s dirty clothes, placing his shoes on the dresser, and stashed a truck in its assigned spot on the shelves. When she had everything in Sean’s little corner of the world as neat and tidy as she could make it, she switched on the night-light and turned out the lamp.

  Her dread of the coming confrontation plucked her nerves like fingers on harp strings. She moved toward the door and beckoned for Wyatt to join her. He backed out of the room, keeping his gaze fixed on the sleeping child until she closed the door behind him.

  Nothing in Wyatt’s life had prepared him for the unexpected pride of looking at a child and knowing that he had played a part in creating that child. With Kara. That act forged a permanent and undeniable link between them.

  Following her down the stairs, he had to maintain a firm grip to keep from shouting with joy. The silly grin was unavoidable. Who would have ever thought it possible? That he had fathered a child? That he would find pleasure in acknowledging that fact? Certainly not Wyatt.

  He wanted to stand at the side of the crib and watch Sean sleep all night. He would have,
too, if Kara hadn’t made her expectations clear. And she was right. They did have important things to discuss.

  In the parlor, she turned to face him, fiddling with her right earring. One of the star-shaped amethyst studs he’d sent her for Christmas the year before. He was charmed to see that his gift had pleased her.

  “My God, Kara!” Torn between wanting to throttle her and hug her at the same time, he settled for pulling her into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and spinning her about. “He’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yes, he is.” She frowned as she pushed him away.

  She didn’t seem nearly as happy as he did, but then the revelation wasn’t new to her.

  “From his date of birth,” he began, eager to learn as much about his son as he possibly could, “I’m guessing you got pregnant when we were in Atlanta.”

  “Yes.” She perched on the edge of a small chair. “The first night.”

  “When you forgot your pills.” Vivid images of frantic, eager sex, hot and explosive, burst through his brain and shot straight to his groin. Upright, clothes shoved aside, propped against a door. Followed by a second coupling, tender and sweet, but just as memorable. Just as intense. “That was a great night.”

  He smiled at the memory with satisfaction. She said nothing, refusing to be drawn into a discussion about the pleasures they’d shared. She stared at him as if he were mentally deficient for being so thrilled to find out he was the father of a two-year-old-child. Just now finding out. The stark reality dimmed his euphoria.

  Now that he understood why she’d been so determined to avoid him, other questions begged for answers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be pleased.” Incomprehensible fear undulated from her in waves.

  For God’s sake, what did she think he would do? Scold her? Mock her? Beat her? When had he ever been less than kind to her? “I’m not pleased to know you had to go through this alone.”

  “What would you have done if you had known?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “I don’t know. I guess I’d have been shocked, stunned. Scared, maybe.”

  “Wouldn’t you have been angry? Disappointed? Annoyed? Unwilling to accept the responsibility?”

  He dropped onto a small footstool in front of her and captured her hands. “Why would you think any of that, Kara mia?”

  “When we were in Atlanta, you said you didn’t want to be a father. You said you doubted you could make that kind of commitment. And you said you didn’t want the responsibility.” She pressed her lips together, halting the flow of words she’d hurled at him.

  For one of the first times in his erudite life, he groped for a response. The right words had to be in his head somewhere. They always had been before.

  With his silence, Kara took a deep breath and continued. “As I recall, you said you thought the compulsion that led people to procreate stemmed from a need to control someone else’s life.”

  “Weren’t we speaking hypothetically?” Damn. He’d failed a test he hadn’t known he was taking. “We were in Atlanta. You met my mother. Her Machiavellian schemes were the reason I left the family business and moved to California.”

  “Yes, but not long after that, when you came to see me in New York, I asked you specifically if you ever wanted to have children and you said no.”

  “Good God, would you quit quoting things I said three years ago and don’t even remember? Apparently, I say too damn many things for my own good.” He lifted her chin with his hand. “While you, Kara mia, say too damn few.”

  “I was following your rules,” she reminded him. “Ask me no questions, tell me no lies.”

  “Now I know I never said that.”

  “Didn’t you? Then how about this one?” Her lavender eyes flashed sparks. “When it’s over between us, it’s over. No regrets and no recriminations. We part as friends, but nothing more.”

  All right, he had said that, damn it. He’d probably said all of it at one time or another, but she hadn’t objected at the time. And he hadn’t been aware of all the facts. He hadn’t known about the child.

  Where was all her anger coming from? He was the injured party here. He clenched his jaw to keep from lashing out when she had to be feeling her most vulnerable. “Are you planning to use him against me in some way?”

  “No.” She bolted out of her chair to pace in front of the window. “And I expect the same consideration from you.”

  Rather than remain in a subservient position at her feet, he shifted from the footstool to the chair. “Meaning?”

  “I mean there’s nothing you can do to change the facts.”

  “I don’t want to change them. I want to understand them.” He pictured the boy curled around a blue blanket in the crib upstairs, and the wonder of it struck him again. A grin stole across his lips. “I can’t believe I have a child.”

  “I have a child.” She stopped in front of Wyatt with her hands at her sides, like a gunslinger ready to draw. “He’s mine.”

  “Mine, too.” His hand curled around hers and he tugged. “Tell me about him.”

  Her eyes narrowed as if she suspected a trick. “What about him?”

  “Anything. Everything. I've got two years of his life to catch up on.”

  “He was a beautiful baby.” She hesitated over each word, each phrase. “And so good. He slept all night from the time he was two months old, which I can tell you, is a blessing for any nursing mother.”

  “You nursed him?” Heat surged through him as he imagined his child at her breast, followed by a flash of disappointment that he hadn’t been offered the opportunity to observe the real event.

  “Of course. Breastfeeding is much better for a baby than formula if nursing is at all possible,” she said with a touch of condescension. “I was determined to do the best I could for him in every way.”

  “I’m sure you’re very conscientious.” Surprisingly, he detected a warming in her eyes. “How long has he been walking?”

  “Since he was ten months.” She smiled, lost in reflections of the past. “He was just a tiny thing when he took off across the room with an odd little gait, kind of like Charlie Chaplain. You should have seen him.” She didn’t quite gasp as she realized her faux pas, but stiffened and twisted her hands. Silence stretched taut between them.

  “I should have seen him.” Instead of giving him insight into the time he’d missed, his request for details had highlighted his exclusion from it. “I should have been there, Kara. I don’t plan to miss anything else.”

  Her chin came up. “How are you going to manage that?”

  “I haven’t worked out the details yet, but I plan to be involved from now on.”

  She shook her head. “We’ve gotten along just fine without you so far.”

  “I didn’t know my son existed then! You can’t expect me to walk away now.”

  “You said you didn’t want a child. When did you change your mind?”

  “When I saw him.” The words came out sharp and hard and sliced through the air with the efficiency of a sword. He softened as the reality of her unintended gift assailed him again. “I can’t believe how instinctive my response to him is. Family ties are important, Kara. You already know that. I’m not going to take fatherhood lightly.”

  “If you’re looking for an heir to offer up to the mighty Maitland family, you can go look somewhere else. Sean is mine, and you can’t have him.”

  Finally, the root of her fear had surfaced. Her fear of losing another child. A completely rational fear, from her perspective. He could reassure her about his intentions, but her history warned him that nothing he said would comfort her. And his business experience at his mother’s side warned him not to launch negotiations until he knew exactly what each party was willing to give up and receive in return.

  “I’ll do whatever I have to do to become a part of his life. I know from my nephew’s past how harmful it can be for a child not to know both o
f his parents.”

  Even though she stood in the center of the room, the way her eyes darted right and left made him think of a mouse that had been backed into a corner, searching for an escape route.“What do you intend to do?”

  “I think we both need some time to consider the situation.” Rising from the chair, he took her arm and led her to the foyer. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be back in the morning. What time does Sean get up?”

  “Around eight.”

  “See you then.” As he stepped onto the porch, he allowed the enormous bubble of pride and joy to flow through him again. In one short evening, his life had changed irrevocably.

  He felt like he’d just won the lottery, or inherited the Mona Lisa, or landed on the moon, or anything unbelievably good he could ever have imagined all rolled up into one shiny package. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Kara?”

  “Yes?” Her voice trembled, and she shivered against the October chill.

  “Thank you for my son. He’s beautiful.”

  Kara watched the taillights of Wyatt’s car disappear down the drive, then barely made it inside the house before sagging against the door. The strain of seeing him again, having him near and having to guard her emotions against him left her limp with exhaustion. For a few moments, she could only cover her head with her arms and cry out in painful recognition that her carefully crafted life had shattered with his reappearance.

  His unexpected arrival had always been a possibility. If he ever showed up—when he showed up—she had thought she was prepared to withstand his possible disapproval, anger, or even hostility. All of those emotions she’d anticipated. But pleasure, delight, or elation? Those were options she’d never considered.

  What if he wanted joint custody? Her heart jumped to her throat as she imagined having to share her son. Wyatt didn’t know anything about children, and he’d have the right to take care of Sean. To take him places. Places outside the house. Away from Kara. Possibly on an airplane, since he’d most certainly want to take him to Atlanta to meet his relatives.