by Floyd, Jacie
Or in a car.
God, no. I absolutely will not allow that to happen. She flew up the stairs to check on her baby, sleeping like an angel with his blanket. Standing beside his crib, she watched him until her breathing slowed and she replaced panic with reason.
Wyatt had the patience of a saint but had he ever spent more than five minutes with a two-year-old? Probably not. What interest would he have in building block towers only to knock them down, or in rolling a ball endlessly back and forth? None whatsoever.
Between teaching in California and the family businesses in Atlanta, his interests in the arts, and the legion of women who pursued him, he’d probably forget about Sean as soon as the novelty wore off. Tiptoeing from the nursery, she stopped on a new thought halfway down the hall.
Atlanta! Once Wyatt’s mother knew about Sean, she’d never leave them in peace. Rosalie would never let Wyatt forget his son for one minute. Her grandchild. Her second grandson. And with the resources of the powerful Maitlands at their disposal, how effective would Kara’s efforts be to keep Sean to herself?
She quaked at the thought of sharing and losing another son. Wyatt’s emotional and geographic distances were two of the reasons she’d originally considered him acceptable father-material. Mike, Adam’s father, had been hands-on and ever-present. She’d loved him completely, but look what had happened.
Turning, she went downstairs to the kitchen. She paced the hardwood floor, round and round the island. The faster she paced, the sharper the memories that raced alongside her. Confusing recollections of the healing time she’d spent with Wyatt jumbled together with other, earlier memories too painful to bear.
Indiana. The blizzard. The police officers at her door. The adult-sized coffin beside the tiny one.
No, no, no, no! She would not relive those moments again. She needed to keep busy or she’d go crazy. Glancing around the kitchen, her gaze fell to the floor. All week, she’d intended to make time to mop the floor. Now seemed like a good opportunity. Sean played on this floor. It couldn’t be too clean.
As she scoured, she planned.
One improbable scenario after another flitted through her brain, and while she plotted, a sense of relief mingled with her fears.
And throughout her confusion ran the taunting image of her undeniable physical reaction to Wyatt. And their kiss. And his reaction to her. Followed by visions of making love in the sunset, dancing in the moonlight, and waking up to shared moments of tenderness in the first light of day.
Whatever the price to herself, she must set aside her personal response to Wyatt and focus on what was best for Sean.
She and Sean didn’t need Wyatt’s help, his financial support, or his presence in their lives. Ever since her son’s birth, she had been in command of every detail, of every decision that affected him. But suddenly, Wyatt controlled a part of Sean’s future. In the blink of an eye, she’d been relegated to a reactionary position. But not for long.
Even if she was forced to allow Wyatt into Sean’s life, if would be on her terms.
When the doorknocker sounded at eight the next morning, Kara answered the summons with Sean in her arms. If she hadn’t been holding her son, she would have been tempted to reach for his father.
Instead of the Fortune 500 business attire Wyatt had worn the night before, this morning he sported jeans, a black t-shirt and a brown jacket. Probably from the GQ casual-adventurer line. All three items fit him to perfection and made Kara want to rip them off with her teeth to get to the muscular body beneath them. But there would be none of that ever again. There were more important issues at hand.
Her heart turned over as the child and the man exchanged identical grins.
Wyatt held up a paper bag that might come in handy later, if she began to hyper-ventilate. “I don't know what a two-year-old eats, but I remember Allie pitching a fit when anyone gave Xander donuts. I hope blueberry muffins are a better choice.” He chucked Sean under the chin with an index finger, then did the same to Kara. “I remember that you like them.”
Sniffing, she wanted to refuse the offering. She had no real grounds to do so except that his good humor and unfailing memory irritated her worse than a case poison ivy. “I’m fixing oatmeal for him, but he can have a muffin, too.”
Wyatt followed them to the kitchen. When he remained silent, she looked at him over her shoulder and found him making goofy faces at Sean. His uncharacteristic boyishness annoyed the bejeesus out of her, but she bit her tongue, determined to continue her usual morning routine.
After buckling Sean into his high chair, Kara snapped a bib around his neck, and then removed a bowl from the microwave. She dipped her little finger in to test the oatmeal’s temperature before she gave it to him.
“I’ll feed that to him.” Wyatt pulled up a chair in front of the tray.
“He’ll feed himself. He does pretty well with a spoon.” Kara watched, almost, but not quite, amused to see Wyatt so eager to involve himself in fatherly tasks. “If you sit that close, you’ll wind up covered in oatmeal.”
“I’m washable.” He looked around the kitchen from the washed pine cabinets to the granite countertops, the copper clad pots, and the gleaming hardwood. “This is great. Very warm and friendly.”
“Thanks.” She handed Sean a sipper cup filled with milk. Placing the muffins on a platter, she surreptitiously inhaled. They smelled like heaven. Slicing one in fourths, she gave the child one of the sections, and popped one in her mouth. “Coffee?” she asked Wyatt.
“Sure, thanks,” he said, snitching a muffin bit for himself. He asked Sean, “Is that good?”
Sean held out his spoon for Wyatt to take a bite. Kara expected him to pretend to sample the cereal, but he leaned over and actually tasted it, smacking his lips with exaggerated pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”
“Dee-yicious,” Sean agreed.
Wyatt accepted a muffin and coffee, but he kept his full attention on the child. Most of Sean’s running commentary sounded incomprehensible to the untrained ear. Several times Wyatt needed Kara to interpret the toddler’s unique vocabulary.
“Down,” Sean commanded at last.
“Hang on, little man,” Kara said. “Let’s wash your face and hands first.”
She performed the clean-up, and then stood Sean on the floor. A pang of jealousy stabbed her as he ran to Wyatt. Standing between his knees, the boy hung an arm over each sturdy thigh and lifted his feet from the floor. He swung himself from Wyatt’s legs, then looked up and grinned. “Play toys?”
“Sure.” Wyatt lifted him onto his lap and turned to Kara. “What does he like to play? And where?”
Kara nodded toward the family room. “Put him down. He’ll show you.”
She intended to straighten the kitchen, but couldn’t seem to allow the two of them to go off alone together even a few feet away from her. Instead, she watched the unflappable gazillionaire gamely stack blocks, sort shapes, hammer plastic pegs, and make chugging sounds as Sean sent a wooden train hurtling around a track. If Wyatt kept on like this, damn, him, she’d have to admit he’d be a positive addition to Sean’s life.
The ease with which the two took to one another caused Kara equal parts of resentment and pride. She couldn’t help but be pleased when Sean brought her a carousel to wind up. But when the horses whirled and the music began to play, he promptly carried it back to Wyatt.
The sound of a key in the back door announced Maria’s arrival seconds before she burst on the scene.
“Hey, what’s with the limo in the driveway?” She stopped in the middle of removing her coat as she caught sight of Wyatt. A look of speculation bounced from Kara to the visitor. “Well, hi there.” A sly smile curled her lips. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
Kara felt an unaccustomed desire to blush or explain Wyatt’s presence. But she was the boss, the adult, and the mother, not the employee, the college student, or the babysitter. And any explanation she could possibly make would only complicate the situatio
n.
“I’m here again,” Wyatt explained. “Not still. I left last night and came back this morning.”
“Right.” Maria agreed, but her eyes twinkled with suspicion.
Sean interrupted any additional comments by running over and throwing his arms around her legs. “’Ria, ‘Ria,” he shouted until Maria tickled his ribs and gave him a hug.
Kara spoke calmly as if it was a common occurrence to have a man in her house first thing in the morning, when it was about as uncommon as a solar eclipse. But Wyatt didn’t know that. “I wasn’t expecting you this early, Maria.”
“Last night you said to be here before ten, because you wanted to go into the city.” She looked at Kara’s stay-at-home sweats. “I can take Sean outside to play if you need time to get ready”—the girl glanced meaningfully at Wyatt—“or whatever.”
“Oh, shoot, I forgot I’d decided to go back to the Rothschild Gallery.” She checked the time on the mantle clock, then studied Wyatt’s hopeful expression. Unh-unh, no sir, no way, no how would she let him stay with Sean after she left. “Sorry to have to cut your visit short.”
“I’ll give you a lift into the city so we can talk.”
“Fine.” Squashing a whoosh of relief that he hadn’t argued the point, she felt outmaneuvered anyway. Somehow he always seemed to get the upper hand. “Maria, this is Wyatt Maitland.” Since she couldn’t think of a good way to describe him, she left the introduction at that.
“Hi, again.” Maria fluttered her fingers in a friendly wave.
“Wyatt, this is one of Sean’s intrepid team of babysitters, Maria Tagliatti.”
“Nice to meet you, Maria. I’m Sean’s father.”
Chapter Four
Maria gasped, but Kara glared. Had he made the statement to get a reaction from her? No, she didn’t think so. He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I’ve been looking for a chance to say that. It feels good.”
Kara’s stomach took a little dip as she realized how negatively her actions had taken from him.
“I kind of guessed. After last night.” Maria stared at him curiously. “And there’s a picture of you in Kara’s office. Sean looks just like you.”
Okay, that’s enough of that. “I won’t be long.” Kara flounced upstairs to change her clothes.
Her hands shook as she dabbed on mascara and twisted her hair into a knot on top of her head. Her thoughts were so distracted that even the simple task of coordinating colors defied her. She pulled on a long skirt, boots, and a lightweight turtleneck, all in the blackest of blacks to match her mood.
Returning to the family room, she found Maria and Wyatt rolling a ball on the floor with Sean and exchanging secrets that her newfound paranoia could only begin to surmise. Maria and Wyatt rose while Sean hopped in a circle. Kara issued detailed instructions to the sitter, gave Sean a hug and a kiss, and then went to get her coat.
Wyatt handed Maria his phone, asking her to snap a picture of him with Sean. A twinge pinched at Kara’s conscience as the image was captured. Then Wyatt carried Sean to the foyer, with Maria following them. Either the girl had already developed a mega-crush on the charming billionaire, or she didn’t want to miss out on any tidbit of gossip to tell the rest of the Tagliatti’s. Maybe both.
“I’ll be back.” Wyatt gave the child a farewell hug and kiss on the forehead, before reluctantly handing him off to the babysitter.
“Tell Mommy and Daddy goodbye” Maria circled his wrist in her fingers and simulated a wave.
“Bye, Mom-mee. Bye, Da-da.” Sean’s words followed them across the porch.
Wyatt beamed, waved, and threw kisses in return.
Kara’s heart flipped over. “He doesn’t understand the meaning of the word.” She hoped to deflate his burgeoning sense of importance in Sean’s life. “If Maria had told him to say ‘Bye, Bozo’, he would have said that.”
“I’m glad she didn’t suggest it, then.” He chuckled as the driver opened the back door of the town car.
A town car instead of a stretch-limo was Wyatt’s version of understated, but Kara hesitated. “This is a little too grand for me. Why don’t I drive myself, and you two can meet me at the gallery?”
He leaned against the car and shook his head. “You’re not getting away that easily. We’ve needed to have an honest conversation for three years. I don’t think it’s asking too much for me to keep you from escaping for the next ninety minutes.”
Grudgingly, she got in and fastened the seat belt, waiting in silence as the driver rounded the end of the car and got behind the wheel. After a few words with the driver, Wyatt slid in beside her and raised the privacy glass. She expected him to start right in about his own plans regarding custody, or with an angry diatribe over her secrecy regarding Sean.
“Maria seems responsible,” Wyatt said, with the voice of a concerned parent. “But isn’t she a little young to be a baby sitter? Does she come with good recommendations?”
“Yes, very.” Kara stiffened with resentment and stared straight ahead, stung by the idea that he questioned her judgment as well as Maria’s competence.
“She said other members of her family also sit for you.”
“They don't sit for me, they sit for Sean.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are the others older or younger than she is?”
“One of each.”
“How young is the youngest?”
“What is this?” Her head turned toward him with a snap. “Do you not trust me to hire competent help?”
“Should I?”
“I think I know more about it than you do.”
“That’s why I’m asking you to explain the situation to me.”
She hated that he managed to sound so reasonable when irritation colored her logic. She took a deep calming breath. “The Tagliattis are related to some good friends of mine. There are six Tagliatti children and the oldest three are in college. Marco is twenty-one and pre-med. Maria’s nineteen and studying early childhood education. Angela, who’s eighteen, hasn’t committed to it, but she’s thinking of becoming a nurse. Each of them works two days a week. We call them the Tag-team, because of their last name and the way it gets to be like a relay sometimes as we juggle schedules.”
“Sean’s obviously crazy about Maria. Does he like the others, too?”
“Oh sure, they’re all great kids and treat him like family.”
The car slowed to exit onto the parkway. Despite the beautiful fall colors and the warmth of the sun streaming through the window, her dread of the possible outcome of this conversation kept her on edge.
She forced herself to broach the subject of Wyatt’s intentions. “Have you decided what you want to do now?”
He tapped his fingers against the seat between them and drew out the suspense until she wanted to scream. “I want legal acknowledgment from you that Sean’s my son.”
“My word or DNA testing?”
“Your word will do for now. DNA for later.”
“For what purpose?”
“Visitation rights?” The words were more of a suggestion that a demand, but they detonated through Kara's heart and mind like a bomb.
“Oh, yeah.” She hoped her derision disguised her fear. “I can see putting him on a plane and sending him to California.”
“Since he would be travelling in a private jet with an accredited childcare professional, I don’t see the objection.”
“What do you know about children or childcare?”
“I know I have a lot to learn, but I’m a quick study. I can read books, check with a pediatrician and call my mother—All right, not my mother, but even you have to admit that I could call Allison or Izzy for advice.”
“Your sister and your mother’s housekeeper would both be excellent resources. But seeing as how my son doesn’t know either one of them, and neither one of them live where you do, there is no way I’m allowing you to practice on-the-job training with him.”
“Don’t all parents learn through on-the-jo
b training?”
“Some more than others.” She ticked her own pre-parental accomplishments off on her fingers. “I took the Red Cross Babysitting course when I was in junior high, I earned a childcare badge in Girl Scouts. And I was a counselor at a summer camp all through college. What about you? Can you name one child under the age of three you’ve ever spent time with alone?”
“No, you’re right, that’s why I have a plan.” His quiet tone commanded attention more forcefully than a shout from someone else. “Until we’re both comfortable with my abilities, I’m willing to move into your house and let you teach me everything I need to know.”
“No way!” Kara’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Even Wyatt wondered about the wisdom of the proposition. “How can you suggest such a thing?”
“You owe me, Kara.” When continued to glare, he forged ahead. “I helped you when you needed it the most. Now, I’m trying hard to focus on the fact that I’ve got a two-year-old son and not on the fact that I didn’t find out about him until last night. But sometimes that thought does creep in.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Are you sure you didn’t know about him before last night? I keep thinking you didn’t seem all that surprised when you first saw him.”
“I knew before I arrived at your house that you had a son, but not that I had one. After I caught a glimpse of you hightailing it out of Sam’s show last night, I cornered Regina and asked her to fill me in on your recent activities.”
“You talked to Regina?” Kara puffed up beside him like a blowfish. “You had no right.”
“No? As a friend who was worried about you, I thought I had the right to check on your well-being. When she told me about Sean, it explained a lot about why you made so many excuses to avoid me during the last few years. Some of them were pretty weak, Kara.”
She turned her head away, giving him the rearview of her graceful neck and her beautiful hair trapped in an unflattering topknot. “I hated lying to you.”