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The Paternity Factor
Caroline Cross
SHANE WYATT WAS MORE THAN A MAN He was dad to a dimple-cheeked two-year-old - but not by blood. A pediatrician's visit had proved that fact, rocking Shane's world and forever changing the way he viewed women. He didn't trust anyone - not with the precious child who called him Da-da, and certainly not with his heart… .JERRY ROSS WAS ALL WOMAN…and undeniably, irrevocably in love with the stubborn single dad. So when she saw her larger-than-life hero distancing himself from both the world and his baby girl, she knew she needed to break down his walls to reach the fiercely passionate man trapped inside… .
Desire, Unexpected And Unwanted, Slammed Into Shane With The Force Of A Runaway Train. (#u5679c1d7-cd3e-5cf6-a5de-fa8c8fdcf96f)Letter to Reader (#u6a41f40e-1ece-5f3d-8739-903b67402a7d)Title Page (#uef20f8df-ed47-51de-ba89-8513f2271068)About the Author (#u9abd5afb-351f-5e55-a7bd-c5d7d00eca67)Dedication (#u1002de95-9afa-5c89-9e0b-6a9d8d41be3a)Chapter One (#u83e1e61b-0f71-5d99-9767-f528a02d7906)Chapter Two (#u28f28483-2a92-5de8-a422-2c782344787f)Chapter Three (#u09e925b3-d722-5f05-ac53-34d745a0705b)Chapter Four (#u3aaaaa51-a497-5d5f-8350-387457f5d268)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Desire, Unexpected And Unwanted, Slammed Into Shane With The Force Of A Runaway Train.
As if a veil had been ripped away, he saw her with absolute clarity. No longer was she an uncertain youngster, an awkward adolescent, the sweet but gawky little sister of his best friend. Instead, she was a woman in every sense of the word, from the full curve of her breasts to the dip of her slender waist to the length of her Vegas-showgirl legs.
Shane’s world seemed to tilt. He suddenly wondered who the hell he thought he’d been kidding.
His libido hadn’t sprung back to life for no reason.
It was her. Jessy. God help him, but he wanted her....
Dear Reader,
The perfect treat for cool autumn days are nights curled up with a warm, toasty Silhouette Desire novel!
So, be prepared to get swept away by superstar
Rebecca Brandewyne’s MAN OF THE MONTH,
The Lioness Tamer, a story of a magnetic corporate giant who takes on a real challenge—taming a wild virginal beauty. THE RULEBREAKERS, talented author Leanne Banks’s miniseries about three undeniably sexy hunks—a millionaire, a bad boy, a protector—continues with The Lone Rider Takes a Bride, when an irresistible rebel introduces passion to a straight-and-narrow lady...and she unexpectedly introduces him to everlasting love. The Paternity Factor by Caroline Cross tells the poignant story of a woman who proves her secret love for a brooding man by caring for the baby she thinks is his.
Also this month, Desire launches OUTLAW HEARTS, a brandnew miniseries by Cindy Gerard about strong-minded outlaw brothers who can’t stop love from stealing their own hearts, in The Outlaw’s Wife. Maureen Child’s gripping miniseries, THE BACHELOR BATTALION, brings readers another sensual, emotional read with The Non-Commissioned Baby And Silhouette has discovered another fantastic talent in debut author Shirley Rogers, one of our WOMEN TO WATCH, with her adorable Cowboys Babies and Shotgun Vows.
Once again, Silhouette Desire offers unforgettable romance by some of the most beloved and gifted authors in the genre. Don’t forget to come back next month for more happily-ever-afters!
Regards,
Joan Marlow Golan
Senoir Editor, Silhouette Desire
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
The Paternity Factor
Caroline Cross
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CAROLINE CROSS
always loved to read, but it wasn’t until she discovered the romance genre that she felt compelled to write, fascinated by the chance to explore the positive power of love in people’s lives. Nominated for a number of awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA Award, she’s been thrilled to win the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Desire, as well as a W.I.S.H. Award. She grew up in central Washington State, attended the University of Puget Sound and now lives outside Seattle, where she (tries to) work at home despite the chaos created by two telephone-addicted daughters and a husband with a fondness for home improvement projects. Caroline would love to hear from her readers. She can be reached at P.O. Box 5845, Bellevue, Washington, 98006.
To Lyle and Janice, with love and thanks for all these
years of friendship and support.
I got lucky when they were banding out in-laws.
One
“I mean it, darling. What you need is one good woman.”
“Thanks for the suggestion, Mom,” Shane Wyatt said dryly. “If you knew how much I used to hope you’d say something like that when I was a teenager...”
Jessy Ross, cloaked in the shadow of the eaves as she swayed slowly back and forth on the porch swing, smiled. She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she couldn’t resist—that last comment was pure, vintage Shane.
Her amusement faded, however, as she continued to listen to the pair leaning against the deck railing. Although their backs were to her, their voices carried clearly on the light summer breeze.
“You can joke all you want, Shane, but this isn’t a laughing matter. With your father and me leaving for Minnesota next week, and not getting back until September, Chloe is going to need someone.”
“And like I told you yesterday,” Shane replied, “I’ve been checking out a new day care and lining up extra baby-sitters—”
“Which is precisely the problem.” A note of asperity crept into Helen Wyatt’s voice. “Chloe is only two, darling. She needs some continuity in her life, not a constantly changing roster of caregivers. I know you mean well, but I really think you need to consider finding someone to move in with you for the summer.” Helen’s voice suddenly softened. “I know it’s only been eighteen months since the accident, and it might feel strange at first to have a woman other than Marissa in the house, but for Chloe’s sake...”
There was a moment of dead silence; even from her vantage point Jessy could see that Shane’s big body had gone tight with tension. She watched as he rolled his shoulders, then rammed a hand through his thick black hair, obviously struggling for patience.
“Look, Mom,” he said finally. “I’ll think about it, okay? But it’s not as easy as you make it sound. Finding someone that both Chloe and I like, who doesn’t mind the isolation out at the lake... It’s just not that easy,” he repeated, his voice strained.
Jessy took a deep breath, peripherally aware of a number of things: snatches of conversation from the backyard party going on around them; the utterly trusting way little Chloe lay sleeping in her arms; the lingering aroma of charcoal-broiled steak wafting from the barbecue grill; the warmth of the June sun as it hovered above the western horizon.
More immediate was the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat as she heard herself say, “I could do it.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then mother and son spun around, their expressions a study in contrasts as they caught sight of her sitting there. In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Wyatt’s face went from surprise to dawning delight.
Shane’s, on the other hand, was starkly unenthusiastic.
“Jessy?” Beneath straight black eyebrows, his pewter eyes were cool. “I didn’t realize you were there.”
Refusing to be daunted, she returned his stare. Although his features were the ones she’d always known—the straight, strong nose, the angular cheekbones, the stubborn chin—he didn’t look at all like the man she’d adored as a teenager. There was no amusement lighting those densely lashed eyes, no laughter lurking at the edges of that chiseled mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said evenly. “I probably should have said something when you first walked up, but I didn’t want to wake Chloe.”
His gaze dropped to her lap, a flicker of surprise—and something vaguely unsettling that she couldn’t identify—crossing his face as he belatedly noticed his daughter.
“I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she added.
To her relief, Helen Wyatt finally found her voice. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. You were obviously here first. Besides, it isn’t important. What matters is what you said about taking care of Chloe. Did you mean it?”
“Of course she didn’t. Mom,” Shane said flatly. “I’m sure Jess has better things to do with her summer than baby-sit for me. She’s probably got plans to hang out, see her friends, work on her tan. Right, Jess?”
He made it sound as if she were a sixth-grade student instead of a sixth-grade teacher, Jessy thought with a touch of exasperation. Yet even so, for a moment as their eyes met, she felt herself transported back to a time when she’d been twelve and he’d been twenty and she would have done anything to please him.
Then Chloe gave a faint little sigh and shifted closer, her small body warm and boneless, and Jessy was abruptly brought back to the present. Even if his wife’s death hadn’t changed Shane, it had been a long time since the days when Jessy had been madly in love with her brother Bailey’s best friend. Despite what Shane seemed to think, she was no longer an awkward, impressionable adolescent. She was a grown woman of twenty-six who knew her own mind and who—thanks to him—had learned to trust her instincts.
And what her instincts were telling her, and had been for some time, was that something was terribly wrong in Shane’s life, something more than the normal grief of losing his wife, as bad as that was. Jessy couldn’t imagine what it could be, wasn’t even sure she was right, but if there was even the slightest chance she was, she wanted to help.
Before she had a chance to say so, Chloe stirred again, as if disturbed by the adults’ tension, and slowly opened her big blue eyes. She stared uncertainly up at Jessy and popped her thumb into her mouth.
“Hey, sweetie.” Jessy smoothed a springy golden curl behind one of the little girl’s shell-like ears. “Did you have a nice nap?”
The toddler nodded, then looked around, a tentative smile lighting her pixielike face when she caught sight of Shane. Extracting her thumb from her mouth, she struggled into a sitting position. “Dada?” she said hopefully, raising her arms to her father. “Get uppie?”
For an instant Shane didn’t seem to hear. Then he abruptly stirred to life. Stepping forward, he bent down and scooped the child up.
Jessy didn’t miss either that telltale hesitation or the faint shadow that darkened his face as Chloe gave a little sigh of pleasure and locked her arms around his neck. Although both reactions were gone in a flash, they were a further confirmation of all the niggling little misgivings that had been plaguing her for months.
It was one thing for Shane to erect a wall between himself and his friends and family. It was quite another for him to rebuff his own child, no matter how inadvertently.
The realization strengthened her newfound resolve. Enough that she didn’t hesitate when Helen cleared her throat and said, “Well, Jessy? What do you say? Do you have plans for the summer?”
Jessy forced her gaze away from Shane and his daughter. “No, I don’t. I meant it when I said I’d love to look after Chloe. And actually Shane would be doing me a favor. The condo I rent has just been sold, so this would give me a chance to take my time finding a new place. Better yet—” she leaned forward and smiled reassuringly at Chloe, who was clutching her father’s T-shirt in one small hand “—I think we’d have fun, wouldn’t we, pumpkin?”
The toddler nodded solemnly.
“It’s settled then!” Helen said brightly. She looked up at Shane. “Isn’t that wonderful, darling?”
Shane’s face looked carved from granite. “Wonderful.”
Ignoring his less than eager response, his mother gave him a cheery pat on the shoulder, then turned back to Jessy. “So, dear. How soon can you move in?”
Shane couldn’t believe it. He was thirty-four years old, the founder and CEO of TopLine Sports, a sporting equipment company that employed more than a hundred people and would make a multimillion-dollar profit this year alone. He owned his own home, he voted and paid taxes, he’d been married and widowed.
Yet as he stood in his front hall Sunday afternoon and watched through the screen door as Jessy Ross pulled her little red car into his driveway, he had to admit he was no match for his mother. She’d beat him fair and square a week ago when she’d pounced on Jessy’s babysitting offer and made it into a fait accompli.
That wasn’t why he was going along, however. He was doing this because his mother was right. Chloe did need more stability in her life. She’d been a secure, happy seven-month-old at the time she lost her mother. Now, a year and a half later, after two different day cares and at least a dozen different evening and weekend baby-sitters, she was often clingy and too quiet.
Yeah? And whose fault is that?
Shane’s mouth flattened out as guilt, familiar and irksome, plucked at him. Stubbornly he tried to ignore it; after all, it wasn’t his fault he had to work—or that there were certain... truths... he couldn’t seem to forget. Besides, it served no purpose. Bottom line, Chloe needed someone she could depend on, and though Jessy was only a temporary answer since she would go back to her teaching job in the fall, her stay would at least give him time to find someone permanent.
It wasn’t going to be easy having someone in the house, though. Sometimes he thought the only thing that had kept him sane the preceding year and a half had been his absolute insistence on his privacy.
He took a firm grip on his thoughts. The past was over and done. It had taken him a long time to work through feelings, to get past the grief and the rage that had nearly consumed him. Now that he’d finally reached a blessed state of indifference, he wasn’t about to jeopardize it by getting all worked up about this or anything else.
Besides, if he had to have his solitude invaded, there was a measure of comfort in familiarity. And Jessy was certainly that, he thought, observing her as she climbed out of her car. Like her older brother, she was tall, with cornflower blue eyes and the kind of skin that turned gold with just a little sun. Unlike Bailey, however, who was a gifted athlete with the sort of looks and laid-back charm that attracted the opposite sex the way honeysuckle drew bees, Jess had been a shy, gawky kid who’d worn braces and been prone to tripping over her long, skinny legs.
Now, dressed in a navy T-shirt and khaki shorts, with her straight, honey-colored hair caught up in a ponytail threaded through the back of a Mariner’s baseball cap, she looked the way she always had—leggy, boyish, unpretentious. Shane supposed if he had to have a female around, he should be grateful it was her. At least he didn’t have to worry about an unwanted attraction.
He watched as she reached into her car. Despite the distance, he could see the thing was packed to the roof with stuff. He sighed; she always had been a bit of a pack rat. When she emerged, however, the only thing she held was a gift-wrapped package. Nudging the door shut with one slim hip, she took a leisurely look around, her gaze sweeping slowly over his contemporary, singlestory house. Even as he told himself she couldn’t possibly see him, standing as he was in the shadows, her gaze locked right on him.
“Shane!” She tucked the package under one arm and started toward him. Faster than he would have believed possible, given her lazy, loose-limbed gait, she was suddenly standing on the other side of the door. “Hi.” Her gaze searched his face, and for a moment her blue eyes seemed slightly wary. Then she smiled. “Well? Are you going to ask me in?”
“I see you found the place.” He pushed open the screen.
She stepped past him into the cool, dim hall. “Yes. Your mom gives good directions.”
“She should. She’s been telling people where to go for years.”
The corners of her wide, full mouth quirked despite his sour tone. She looked around. “This is nice. How long have you—” she hesitated for a second as she glanced to her right into the sunken living room, which was, like the dining room beyond it, completely devoid of furniture “—lived here?”
He let loose of the door. Ignoring the questions he could see in her eyes, he started down the hall toward the combination family room-kitchen, gesturing for her to follow. “A year.”
“Ah.”
In sharp contrast to the hallway, the back of the house was bright with sunlight. Narrowing his eyes against the sudden glare, Shane headed for the breakfast bar, expecting Jessy to follow.
Instead she stopped a few feet inside the room to stare at the view beyond the trio of sliding glass doors that opened onto the big cedar deck. “Wow. I didn’t realize you were actually on the water. From the front of the house, you’d never guess. How beautiful.”
He glanced out indifferently, looking past the wide expanse of emerald lawn that ran down to the shores of Lake Winston. The lake’s tranquil waters sparkled in the afternoon sunlight, while in the distance the snow-tipped peaks of the Cascades stood sentinel against a powder blue sky.
He shrugged. “It’s all right.”
Again, her eyes sought his. But before he could identify the look in hers—sympathy? concern? distress?—she glanced away. Stung, and not sure why, Be wondered caustically what her reaction would be if he told her that at the time he’d bought the place, he’d simply been looking for something that didn’t remind him of Marissa.
Crossing his arms, he watched her examine the ultramodern black-and-white kitchen that occupied the area to their right, then check out the long, curved breakfast bar with its six chrome-and-leather swivel stools. Next, she switched her gaze to the family room area, which boasted a cathedral ceiling, a pale wood floor and a big stone fireplace. Although not lavishly furnished, it did have a fully functional entertainment center and an oversize black-and-white sectional sofa.
Her expression lightened as she caught sight of Chloe, who was sitting quietly on the floor in front of the TV, watching Beauty and the Beast on video. “Hey, Chloe. How’re you?”
The toddler glanced over. For a moment she looked uncertain, the way she so often did. Then she saw who it was and her face creased with a bashful smile. “Jeddy.” Clambering to her feet, she abandoned Wait Disney and toddled over to the end of the sofa, where her nerve suddenly ran out. She ducked her head and shyly regarded Jessy through her lashes.
“Guess what, sweetie?” Closing the distance between them in a few unhurried strides, Jessy sat down on the sofa, then lifted Chloe up and gently plunked the child down beside her. “I brought something for you. A present.”
The child’s eyes widened with surprise. “Fo’ me?”
“That’s right.” She laid the package in the little girl’s lap.
“Oh.” Chloe started to reach for the bright pink bow, then suddenly stopped. She looked up at Shane. “’Kay?”
Shane nodded, feeling the usual combination of guilt and helplessness at the little girl’s diffidence.
Reassured, she turned her attention back to the package. Biting her bottom lip with concentration, she carefully pulled off the bow, making a little sound of surprise when Jessy took it and stuck it on her head. She reached up to touch it, gave a quiet giggle, then went back to work, tearing at the paper. Suddenly her big blue eyes and her Cupid’s bow mouth both rounded. “Ohhh,” she said reverently, staring at the small, soft-bodied doll. “Baby.”
“I didn’t have a clue what she had for toys,” Jessy said softly to Shane as she took the baby doll out of its box and handed it to Chloe, “but I figured she could always use another doll.”
Shane shrugged, not about to admit that up until a moment ago he’d believed two was still too young for such things. “It’s fine,” he said gruffly, watching as the child very carefully touched one small finger to the doll’s closed eyes.
“Baby sleeping,” Chloe said solemnly.
Jessy turned her gaze back to the child. “Yes. Unless...” She tipped the doll upright, rewarded as its eyes fluttered open, prompting the child to give a little gasp.
