The Secret Baby: The Sinful Secrets Series (Book #3)

by Day Leclaire

  “There was a reason!” she protested urgently. “I—”

  “Enough!” His control finally snapped, anger consuming him, his anger an even more persuasive deterrent than his icy reserve. He faced her then, his hands closing on her upper arms. “You made your choice. You chose Caldwell. Now you have another choice to make. Let’s hope you show more sense with this one.”

  She refused to shrink from his fury or allow him to intimidate her. “What are you talking about?”

  His eyes glittered with ruthless intent. “Caldwell’s. I want it and you’re going to give it to me.”

  “I’m supposed to simply hand my shares over to you and walk away?” she demanded in disbelief. “Just like that?”

  His thumbs began a relentless circling, smoothing the ivory silk of her shirt over her arms. “No, not just like that. I’ll pay you for your stock.”

  “But at well below market price,” she guessed, struggling not to shiver beneath his touch.

  He inclined his head. “Very astute, Sable. There’s also one other condition.”

  Something in his tone warned she wouldn’t like this latest stipulation and she stiffened. “What is it?”

  “I want you in my bed again.”

  Her eyes widened and she fought her breath, unable to believe what she’d just heard. “You can’t be serious!”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  She shook her head, struggling to slip from his grasp. But he held her close, forcing her to face him. “No, I won’t! What makes you think I’d agree to something like that?”

  His smile grew cold and heartless. “You’ll agree. I promise you, you’ll agree. Because if you don’t I’ll make your life a living hell. And after all the years we worked together you know I’m capable of it.”

  “I know all too well,” she shot back.

  He laughed in genuine amusement. “Then you also know I’ll do it.”

  “But why?” The cry broke from her, filled with a pain she couldn’t conceal. “Why are you doing this?”

  His laughter died, replaced by grim intent. “Have you any idea how much you cost my firm when you sold out to Caldwell’s? It wasn’t just a year’s work you stole. People lost their jobs. Worse, it became common knowledge that there was a leak, which meant I lost people’s trust. And that, my love, is going to cost you.”

  She didn’t bother arguing, explaining her error in judgment yet again. If he hadn’t listened earlier, he certainly wouldn’t listen now. Besides, Caldwell’s wasn’t her only concern. She had Kyle’s welfare to think of. If he ever found out they’d had a son together, he’d have the perfect weapon to use against her, a much more potent and damaging weapon than Caldwell’s. And, considering how badly he wanted retribution for past wrongs, it was a weapon he wouldn’t hesitate to use. Despite that, to sleep with him . . .

  “I won’t do it,” she whispered. It would kill her to be held in his arms again, to give in to his passion, knowing all the while that he took her for revenge instead of for love. “I won’t sell myself to you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Why not? You sold yourself to Caldwell.”

  She flinched, every scrap of color draining from her face. In a sudden twisting move, she jerked free of his arms and stepped back, wrapping her arms around her waist. It was as though he’d shattered something precious deep inside of her. Something irreplaceable. A treasure beyond price.

  “Sable—”

  She shook her head, raising her hand to hold him at bay. “Don’t say any more, Damien. Don’t say another word. Just stay away from me.” To her relief, he made no attempt to touch her, but he watched her as though concerned. Concerned? She closed her eyes. Not a chance. He’d just proved how little he cared.

  His cruelty actually had a salutary effect, she discovered. It killed all emotion, laying bare her choices. Choices she needed to weigh carefully. Damien didn’t know about Kyle. He couldn’t, not when she logically analyzed all he’d done and said so far. Which meant he’d only come after her to get his hands on Caldwell’s and exact some petty revenge. Well, he could have his revenge. If it would protect her son, she’d give it to him without hesitation. For the longer Damien remained in her life, the greater the chances he’d find out about Kyle. And that was one risk she couldn’t afford to take, no matter what the personal cost.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him with unwavering resolve. “If I sell, and I stress the word if…” She put the word in air quotes. “Will that end things between us?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I agree to your conditions, will you leave me alone?” Her voice trembled, but she couldn’t seem to control it. Not when it took every ounce of her willpower just to stand here and make such a heartrending offer. “Will you get out of my life and stay out, permanently. I mean you’re never to contact me again, never phone, or see me.”

  He stilled, eyeing her with a predatory watchfulness that terrified her. She could practically see him analyzing her request, seeing the hidden meaning beneath the surface words. “What are you up to, Sable?” he murmured.

  “Having you appear in my life so unexpectedly is distracting,” she invented with a swiftness born of desperation. “I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I want to get on with my life without having to look over my shoulder to see what you’re up to. Is that such an unreasonable request?”

  “And in exchange for my leaving you alone you’ll sell me Caldwell’s at a cut rate? You’ll sleep with me?”

  She shrugged, the movement stiff and unnatural. Revealing. “Even at a cut rate I’ll have more money than I can ever spend. Of course, I’d need time to consider the rest of your offer, but I think we can come to terms.” She shot him a warning glance. “If you consent to my stipulation.”

  “So agreeable. I wonder why . . . ?” He caught her chin in his hand, tilting her head so that she couldn’t avoid his gaze. “What are you hiding?”

  “N-nothing! I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Liar,” he accused softly. “You should be fighting me tooth and nail. Instead you’re rolling over in defeat.”

  “Is that what you want? A fight?” She turned her head to the side and his fingers slid along her jaw with tantalizing gentleness before dropping away. “Sorry to be so uncooperative. But, as you’ve already pointed out, I know you, Damien. And I know what you’re capable of. Why should I put myself through that? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “All very logical,” he conceded. “But somehow I don’t quite buy it. I can see the panic in your eyes, Sable. In your face. Tell me what you’re hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” she lied frantically. “Do you want Caldwell’s, or don’t you? I’d think you’d be pleased that I’m giving in, giving you what you want.”

  He glanced away, effectively concealing his thoughts from her. “You’re right, of course,” he said after an endless minute. “We’ll finalize the details tomorrow.”

  “And if I sell, you’ll stay out of my life from then on?” She wanted that point crystal-clear.

  “I’ll see to it that our paths never cross again … if you sell.” He looked at her then, his eyes alive with both threat and promise. “And if you sleep with me.”

  Dear Lord, what had she just agreed to? She might as well have signed her own death warrant. “Fine.” She took a hasty step back, then another and another. If she didn’t escape soon, she’d crack wide open, ruining everything. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  “You haven’t eaten,” he pointed out.

  She glanced at the table and quickly away, her stomach churning. She couldn’t face eating with him, couldn’t handle exchanging polite, meaningless conversation. Not after all he’d done. “Please make my excuses to Lute. It would seem I’ve lost my appetite.” And with that she turned and bolted, aware of his intent green eyes boring into her back every inch of the way.

  By the time Sable arrived home, she could barely put one foot in front of the other.
She tossed her briefcase on to the living room couch, her shoulders drooping from a combination of exhaustion and stress.

  “Mommy!” an excited voice called from the stairway, a voice that brought her more joy and happiness than she’d ever thought possible.

  She turned, weak tears trembling on the ends of her lashes. “Kyle,” she called, dropping to her knees. He raced into the room and flung himself into her embrace. It was like holding an armful of heaven. She closed her eyes, resting a cheek on the top of his head. His thick dark hair tickled her nose and she smiled, relaxing for the first time that day. She could face any adversity and overcome any obstacle, so long as she had him to come home to each day.

  “You’re late,” he accused, wriggling free of her arms and tugging at the pajama bottoms that threatened to slide down his narrow hips.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I’m home now. Have you had dessert?” She held out a hand. “Why don’t we scrounge some milk and cookies from the kitchen and you can tell me all about your day?”

  He hesitated, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “Nanna said no more,” he confessed with a reluctant sigh, clearly torn between being honest and receiving the unexpected treat.

  “I’ll tell Nanna it’s fine,” she assured him solemnly.

  “Okay,” he agreed, and grinned, reminding her with heartbreaking suddenness of Damien.

  For the first time she blessed the fact that he’d inherited her coloring. During the pregnancy she’d prayed for a child with tawny hair and vivid green eyes, and though his features were the image of Damien’s they were hidden beneath a mop of ebony curls and flashing black eyes. Only under close scrutiny could she see the familiar squared jaw and high, sweeping cheekbones. Even the wide, sculpted mouth was identical to his father’s.

  He slipped his fingers into hers and tugged at her hand. “Come on!” he urged, and she allowed herself to be towed in the direction of the kitchen.

  Maybe it was listening to Kyle’s childish chatter or her intense exhaustion. Perhaps it was the pain of seeing Damien again and realizing how thoroughly he despised her. She never quite knew what decided her, but halfway through her second chocolate-chip cookie she reached a decision.

  Tomorrow she’d go in and talk to Damien. She’d insist that they come to terms. She’d agree to sell him her interest in Caldwell’s at whatever price he offered. She’d even consent to sleeping with him. She’d do anything he asked, if only he promised to stay out of her life. She gazed down at the top of her son’s head and caught her breath. Protecting Kyle was worth far more than her Caldwell stock. Protecting him was worth more than anything and everything. She closed her eyes, fighting to hold her tears at bay.

  It was even worth more than her pride and self-respect.

  Chapter 4

  Knowing she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep, Sable spent the entire night planning her speech, marshaling her arguments, and considering all possible alternatives. The next morning she wasted no time, but went directly to Damien’s office, prepared to negotiate her release. Pushing open the connecting door, she stared in frustration at the empty room.

  He wasn’t there.

  A small sound caught her attention and she turned to discover an attractive blonde standing by Damien’s credenza, her arms loaded with files. “May I help you?” the woman asked.

  Sable nodded. “Perhaps you can. I’m Sable Caldwell. I’d hoped to speak to Damien.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Caldwell.” The woman put down the files and offered her hand. “I’m Lisa, Mr. Hawke’s secretary. I’m afraid he won’t be in today.”

  “He won’t?” Sable could only stare. “But I’m supposed to meet with him.”

  Lisa stirred uncomfortably. “Yes, Mrs. Caldwell. He mentioned you might stop by. He said that you could call him if it was urgent, but he’d prefer to put your meeting on hold until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Sable’s mouth snapped closed. She refused to reveal the extent of her outrage, refused to utter the words trembling on the tip of her tongue. He’d done this deliberately. He knew they were supposed to get together, to discuss terms. And he had to guess, even if he didn’t know for certain, how anxious she’d be about this meeting. Undoubtedly this was one more way to torture her, to keep her off-balance. “Thank you, Lisa,” she managed to say in gracious tones. “It’s not in the least urgent. I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Caldwell,” Lisa murmured, and, with a final uncertain glance over her shoulder, went back to sorting the files.

  Stifling a sigh, Sable returned to her office and shut the door. How thoroughly deflating. She crossed to her desk and collapsed into her chair. Swiveling to face the windows, she stared blindly at the San Francisco skyline. Had he known she would have a speech all prepared, would be determined to battle for better terms? Probably. He had an unerring instinct for reading people and had used it to stunning effect during the years she’d worked for him. Now he was using that instinct in his dealings with her. It was incredibly unsettling.

  A light tap sounded at her outer door and Ryan Matheson, Caldwell’s project director, stuck his head in. “Excuse me, Sable,” he said. “Do you have a minute?”

  She swung around and smiled. “Of course. Come in and have a seat. What can I do for you?”

  “This is rather awkward,” he began, clearly ill at ease.

  If Damien was involved, and she didn’t doubt for a minute that he was, she suspected it would prove to be very awkward indeed. “Sit down, Ryan. I assume this is about the report Damien requested.”

  He sank into the chair in front of her desk. “Yes, it is. Mr. Hawke spoke to me at length about Caldwell’s having lost the final phases of Luther’s condo development and asked that I prepare a report accounting for his defection.”

  Reading between the lines, Sable imagined Damien had done a lot more than just speak to Ryan. Chewed him out was more likely. “He’s very concerned about the situation,” she said in classic understatement.

  Ryan ran a distracted hand through his rumpled brown hair. “As am I. The problem is, Luther isn’t the only job we’ve lost in the last year. Though until recently I seemed alone in my concern.” He broke off, shooting her a nervous glance. “Ms. Caldwell said . . .”

  Patricia had told him not to press the matter, she guessed, perhaps hoping that ignoring the situation would make it go away. “That’s no longer the case,” Sable explained gently. “The entire board supports Damien’s request.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.” He cleared his throat. “Which is why I came directly to you.”

  She frowned in bewilderment. “I’m not sure I understand, Ryan. What’s the problem?”

  He fidgeted, clutching a sheaf of papers between sweaty hands. “I’ve spoken to Luther a number of times, trying to pin down the real reason for his jumping ship, asking if we’d done anything that would explain his switching to AJ Construction. I mean, I’ve looked at everything—costs, workmanship, materials, union problems. The works. And there’s nothing there. Except . . .”

  “Except?” she prompted, completely mystified by his nervousness.

  He fingered his collar, then broke into speech. “Except they turned down our bid. It was sort of peculiar. Very last minute. One day we had it in the bag and the next we were out.”

  “I don’t suppose you could be more specific?” she asked, struggling to conceal her exasperation. “What do you suspect happened?”

  He looked at her, then quickly away. “I think we were underbid.”

  She didn’t understand his nervousness. “That happens all the time in this business, doesn’t it? I mean, it’s unfortunate, but—”

  “It doesn’t happen. At least, not like this,” Ryan cut in abruptly. “We built the first three phases for Luther. That alone should practically guarantee our getting the final contract. Plus, they’re not admitting to any problems with the actual construction. In fact, we’ve met all our deadlines and come in under budget.
So why dump us? It doesn’t make sense. Our site manager is still in shock. He can’t explain the sudden switch. I mean, we were caught flat-footed. And . . . and there have been rumors.”

  “What sort of rumors?” she asked uneasily.

  “Rumors of a leak.”

  “A leak?” She jackknifed upright in her chair, staring in disbelief. “There must be some mistake.”

  He cleared his throat. “There’s no mistake. From what I hear AJ Construction didn’t just underbid us, they walked in with our package in one hand and a list of bargains and perks in the other. They offered a better deal on every aspect of the project, using our prospectus as a guideline.” His gaze flitted about the room, never once settling on her. “As you know, that information is supposed to be highly confidential. I can’t explain how they got hold of it, but I thought you should be made aware of the problem since my report to Mr. Hawke . . . I hope you understand . . . I really have no choice, given the situation.”

  Icy tendrils of dread snaked through her, settling like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. “You’re telling me that the possibility of a leak will figure prominently in your report?”

  He finally looked at her, the hint of pity in his expression impressing on her the seriousness of the situation more clearly than anything he’d said to date. “That’s precisely what I’m telling you.”

  “I appreciate the warning.” She fought to think, to scramble for a plan of action. How was this possible? If Ryan was right, who could be responsible? A sudden thought occurred to her. “I’d like a list of all personnel who had access to this bid information.”

  “Everyone?” he asked.

  She didn’t hesitate for a minute. “Every last person, including you and me.” She leaned forward, leveling her gaze on the project director. “Assuming there has been a leak, I want to find out who is responsible, and fast. If possible, before that report hits Damien’s desk.”

  He eyed her suspiciously for several long minutes, as though assessing her sincerity. Slowly he relaxed. “I’ll draw up the list,” he said. Then a note of apprehension crept into his voice. “Sable, you’d better know. The facts won’t be easy to refute. Suspicion is going to fall on the most obvious target. I don’t have to tell you who that is.”