She didn’t know what she expected him to do. Defend himself? Yell? Point out that, if she had managed to get married before she’d gotten pregnant, none of this would have happened? That was her father’s favorite. This was nobody’s fault but her own.
Daniel Lee said none of those things. “I know. Just remember that help is a phone call away. You’re not alone.” And just like that, he ended the call, leaving her in a state of shock.
Had he just admitted that she was right? That didn’t seem possible. Someone as gorgeous and refined as Daniel Lee—he wasn’t the kind of person who owned up to his mistakes—was he?
As tempting as it was, she knew she could not hide out in the ladies’ room for the rest of her workday. Sooner or later, her bosses would send Sue to find her and then there would be another makeover session and she would have to go back to her desk and stare at the voicemail, which by now was probably approaching hundreds of messages.
But she couldn’t move just yet. She didn’t trust that man. She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted anyone.
You’re not alone.
Oh, if only that were true.
* * *
One of the many things Daniel had learned at a young age was how to blend in. Going to school in Chicago had been easy. He had been surrounded by children of Korean descent and other Asians, Eastern Europeans and Africans, in addition to Americans of all colors. Americans could look like anyone and be like anyone.
It hadn’t been that way in Seoul. Even as a child, he had stuck out. By the age of ten, he’d been taller than his mother and by the age of twelve, taller than his grandfather. His hair and eyes weren’t black. His eyes would never be as green as his half brother Zeb’s, but they were a light brown and his hair had an almost reddish look to it.
Most Americans guessed he was Asian, but Koreans knew he was American on sight.
So he had learned how to blend in. His grandfather had paid for a private tutor to instruct him on Korean social manners and Daniel had been an eager student—first, in the hope that he would fit into his grandfather’s world and then, when it became apparent he never would, just to show up the old man. Similarly, every fall when he came back to Chicago after three long months in Seoul, he had to relearn how to shake hands, how to tell American jokes—hell, even how to walk. He took longer strides in Chicago.
He was good at blending, though. Sometimes, due to his coloring, people thought he might be Hispanic. Daniel had learned not to mind. People saw what they wanted to see, which made it easier to blend in.
Take this Sunday morning, for instance. People wanted to see a potential new church member and Daniel gave them what they wanted. He was wearing a pair of brown corduroys and a thick cable knit sweater over a denim shirt. On top of all of that, he had on a ski jacket and snow boots and a knit cap pulled over his ears. He’d added a pair of glasses. In other words, he looked nothing like Daniel Lee but everything like a hipster attendee of a megachurch.
Daniel wanted to see Christine with his own eyes. He was responsible for dragging her name through the mud—that wasn’t even a question. But what if...
What if she was just as crazy as her father was? What if she was a manipulative, coldhearted woman?
He didn’t think so. When he had dug up all that dirt on her two years ago, he hadn’t found anyone who’d described her that way. She’d gone through a wild phase in high school, but lots of teenagers rebelled. Besides, Christine had settled down in college. She’d met the man who’d fathered her daughter and gotten her life together.
Until Daniel had blown it up.
It was easy to get lost in a crowd of this size. The day was cold and everyone was bundled up. Aside from his clothing, all he needed was a friendly smile and a certain eagerness in his gaze.
He let the crowd carry him into the lobby. He snagged a program and pretended to read it as he studied the crowd. He didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, but then again, whoever was shadowing Christine was probably trying to blend in just as much as he was.
And then she walked right past him, that little girl in her arms. Marie, he mentally corrected himself. She wasn’t just a little girl. She was the child Christine would do anything to protect.
Christine didn’t notice him. She was busy chatting with her daughter, getting her puffy pink coat unzipped and the stocking cap off her head. It was the first time he’d seen Christine smile. God, she was stunning when she was happy.
Marie had a red nose and redder cheeks, but a big smile that she spread around the room. She even looked at Daniel and grinned, her blue eyes lighting up as if she had been waiting for him all this time.
It felt like someone had punched him in the chest. Marie really did have Christine’s eyes, hopeful and happy. And it seemed like Marie’s little face answered at least some of Daniel’s questions.
Then they were gone, disappearing down a long hallway with a steady stream of parents jostling other small children. The crowd began to move into the auditorium and Daniel moved with them, trying to stick to the back. He didn’t see either of the people Porter had identified as watching Christine, which was good.
Daniel had grown up going to a church where the service was performed in Korean in Chicago, but he was not deeply religious. He knew too much about people in power, which included religious leaders.
Nonetheless, it felt awkward to be spying on the woman in the house of God and even more wrong to be looking for other spies. He wanted at least one place to be a sanctuary for Christine.
She was one of the last people to come back into the auditorium as the band started up. This was the kind of church that had a rock ’n’ roll band in addition to gospel singing and hymns. It had a little bit of everything, with high definition video presentations and surround-sound audio.
He watched Christine without staring at her. As she settled into her seat, she nodded and smiled and said a few things to the people around her. People treated her as they would any good acquaintance they saw once a week—they were friendly, but not overly warm. Which was good. He wasn’t sure how far that first story had gotten. Christine as a news item hadn’t been picked up by network television yet. Wonky political sites didn’t have much reach outside of the political set. Plus, they were in Colorado, not Missouri.
The service was a solid hour and a half of preaching and singing and clapping. It was an engaging service, but Daniel wasn’t really paying attention. He was mentally running through all the potential outcomes.
Natalie had already started flooding the internet with positive mentions of Christine. Even if Christine wasn’t actually discussed in the article, Natalie was referencing her in the title to drive down search engine results on the other news articles. More official press releases would be released on Monday and Tuesday.
As tempting as it would be to think that would be that, Daniel knew better. Christine and her daughter were too tempting a target, the political writ large on something that should’ve been personal. The primary voting for the special election was a mere two months away and, God forbid Murray actually get his party’s nomination, the election was only two months after that. A lot could happen in four months.
The service ended with a thundering song that brought everyone to their feet and they stayed there, chatting with friends as the crowd thinned. Other parents made a beeline for the direction of the day care—but not Christine. She leaned on a pew, smiling at the person who’d been sitting in front of her—but Daniel noticed the way she was surreptitiously glancing around the room. Looking for him.
Suddenly, he was gripped with a strange urge to make her see him. He wanted her to look at him and recognize him and—he knew it was completely unreasonable—he wanted her to be happy to see him.
He had no business wanting such a thing. Obviously, what he really wanted was to be absolved of any guilt he had about the situation she now found herself in.
And then it almost happened. She did notice him. Her eyes grew wide with recognition. But
it wasn’t with happiness. At best, he would call her expression one of grim acceptance.
He deserved nothing more.
He gently inclined his head to the left, gesturing toward the hallway. Her chin moved down ever so slightly.
Daniel headed into the hall, which was bustling with parents trying to get their children back into winter gear and children refusing to be coddled. The hallway was almost as loud as the band had been—and that was saying something. Another few minutes passed before Christine appeared. Daniel did not follow her. He focused on looking lost and overwhelmed. In all this noise, it wasn’t hard.
By the time Christine and Marie reappeared, many families had left and it was starting to quiet down. Christine was tickling the little girl’s tummy and Marie was shrieking with joy. Unexpectedly, Daniel felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. Marie was completely innocent and for the time being, anyway, he was glad Christine had called him.
She was looking for him this time. Her gaze met his and the lines around her mouth tightened. It was not a reaction he enjoyed inspiring in people.
That wasn’t entirely true. When he was looking at an opponent, the little sign of displeasure would be a good thing. But it bothered him coming from her.
She said loudly, “Sweetie, I think we left your hat in the day care,” before turning around.
Daniel followed at a safe distance. No one else did. The day care was downstairs and, outside of the room, there was a grouping of chairs and a sofa, along with some toys and books on a beat-up coffee table. It looked like someone had donated a living room and the church had stuck the whole set in a glorified hallway, but it was quiet and no one else came in or out of the day care.
Christine settled onto the couch and clutched Marie as if she were afraid to let her go. “I wasn’t sure if you would actually come.”
“I gave you my word.”
Her brow wrinkled. An irrational need to wipe away the doubt hit him. He wanted to make her smile, like he’d seen before the service. He wanted that smile all for himself.
He wasn’t going to get it. “You’ll forgive me if that doesn’t mean a lot to me at this point.”
She still had a lot of fight in her. A grin tugged at his lips, which made her eyes widen. “Understood, but when I make a promise to you, I’m going to keep that promise.”
He hadn’t always operated like that. But he had turned over a new leaf when he had accepted his role in the Beaumont Brewery and the Beaumont family. He did not lie to his relatives. And he wouldn’t lie to Christine.
She gave him a long look, as if she were debating whether or not to believe this particular statement. “So, what do we do now?” But the words had barely left her mouth when Marie squirmed off her lap. Christine set her down and the little girl began to sidestep her way around the coffee table.
“I have a few questions and a couple of suggestions. And then we’ll come up with a plan that minimizes the disruption to your life and keeps Marie as safe as possible.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before nodding her head. “All right. Although I can’t imagine there’s something about me you don’t know. Not if you’re the one who found out about her first.”
He felt a pang of regret—but at the same time, he was encouraged. That backbone of steel gave a flinty edge to Christine’s vulnerability and damned if he didn’t like it.
No, no—not like. Appreciate. He appreciated her resolve. “Again, let me apologize for that.”
She tried to shrug, as if his destroying her life had been just another day. “All’s fair in love and politics.”
“No, it’s not.” She looked up at him sharply, but he went on, “How much contact do you have with Marie’s father?”
She winced. “I don’t. Every now and then, I’ll send him a picture, but he doesn’t even reply to those anymore. He pays child support on time, though—my father made sure of that. It’s the only thing he’s ever done for me.”
“That’s my next question,” Daniel said, forcing himself to ignore the pain in her voice. He was trying to make it better. “How much contact do you have with your father?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want to breathe the same air as me. He blames me for his last loss—even though he’s lost so many elections. He’s convinced himself that if it hadn’t been for me, he would’ve won that one.”
“You don’t think he would have?”
She slumped in the chair. “Of course not. His world is black and white. He’s right and everyone who doesn’t agree with him is wrong. Most people can’t live like that. I know I couldn’t.” She grimaced, something that was supposed to look like a smile and failed. “Needless to say, I was always wrong.”
Her words made sense on a level Daniel didn’t want to inspect too closely. “I don’t think you’re wrong, Christine.”
Whatever attempt at a smile she had made faded. “It’s nice of you to say that but I still don’t know why you’re here or what you think you’re going to get out of helping me.”
“What I want isn’t important. It’s my responsibility to shield you and your daughter from the coming storm. That’s all there is to it.”
As he said it, he looked down at the little girl who was still cruising around the coffee table. As if she knew she was being talked about, she looked up at him and smiled a drooly smile. She made her way over to him and then, in a moment of bravery, let go of the coffee table and all but fell into his legs.
Acting on instinct, Daniel caught her. He had not dealt with children a great deal. He was an uncle several times over, thanks to all of his various half siblings. He had even held Zeb’s daughter, Amanda. But that had been when the baby was asleep.
Marie was much larger, squirming and laughing as she looked up at him with those trusting blue eyes. “Hello, Marie.”
Marie giggled in response to this and leaned in to him. She was warm and heavy and impossibly cute.
It felt like something shifted in his chest as he stared down at her, the past and future all mixed up in one innocent child.
Then she squirmed and pointed at the coffee table, leaning so far that he had to hold on to her to keep her from toppling over. “She wants to read you a book,” Christine said, a note of caution in her voice.
“All right.” He scooped one of the dog-eared books off the table. He flipped it open and the little girl began to make babbling sounds. She pointed at a picture and then looked up at him, her eyes so big and so blue. Then she paused.
“She’s waiting for you to respond,” Christine said. Daniel glanced up at her to see that she was watching this entire scene unfold with interest.
Respond? “Really?” he said, hoping that was what Marie wanted to hear.
It was, apparently. She turned the page and chattered before waiting for Daniel. So he said, “Really?” again, this time with more emphasis. Marie nodded, her downy hair floating around her head.
There was something awkward about this entire arrangement. He was sitting in the basement of a church that he did not attend, holding a child who was not his. But at the same time, there was something that felt...right about it, too. Marie was proof there could still be sweetness and innocence in the world.
That realization he’d had earlier hit him again, harder this time.
He had to protect her. He had to protect them both.
Four
Christine sat in utter confusion. She’d thought she was meeting with the slick, smooth-talking, dangerous man who had made vague promises about helping her weather the oncoming storm. But that’s not what was happening.
When she’d seen him earlier, she’d almost jumped out of her skin. Gone was the executive vice-president of the Beaumont Brewery. And in his place was a man who was taking her breath away again and again. Seriously, if Sue had thought he was hot before, she would die of gorgeousness now.
Christine had no idea a cable-knit sweater could be so danged sexy. And the way he was cuddling her daughter? She�
�d say this was a dream come true but her dreams were never this good.
She shook her head. They had a limited amount of time before either Marie had a meltdown or someone noticed them and began to ask questions. She still had no idea if she could trust Daniel Lee, much less accept his help. She couldn’t let her attraction to him muddy the waters, either. She was done being dependent on other people to protect her name or family.
So why couldn’t she do anything but sit here and stare as Marie curled into his lap and read him a story as if her daughter had known him all of her young life?
And Daniel—the smooth, dangerous man who had showed up at Christine’s work—he was playing along. He was turning the pages for Marie and saying “Really?” a lot—which was what Marie wanted. He wasn’t checking his phone or his watch. He wasn’t complaining about Marie’s very existence.
He was the executive vice-president of the Beaumont Brewery. He was a political consultant who had screwed up her life.
He was a man holding her daughter as if he truly cared about her. A man who looked at her as if she were worth something.
Not even Doyle had held Marie like this. He had never come to see his own daughter. He hadn’t replied to the last pictures Christine had sent from her first birthday. Marie was a persona non grata with both her father and her grandfather. They had never seen her as a person. She’d always been a chess piece, a pawn that they moved at will around the board for a game Christine didn’t want to play.
And Daniel—he had been the one to start it all. Okay, that wasn’t fair. She bore some of the responsibility. But she couldn’t look at Marie and think of her perfect angel as a mistake.
Billionaire's Baby Promise (Mills & Boon Desire) (Billionaires and Babies, Book 79) Page 4