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Elizabeth glanced back at Hanna’s expression. Her friend looked liked she’d been dropped straight into her deepest fantasy.
It wasn’t often that Reed imagined himself in a science fiction story. But, at the moment, he would take it very kindly if somebody would please beam him up.
“I understand that these things can happen,” continued Vivian Vannick-Smythe, a halo of feathers that served as a hat quivering around her lined face while she gesticulated her story. “And I’m certainly not one to stand in judgment.”
Reed choked back a laugh at that statement.
While Vivian carried on about the SEC investigation and how it was all about her, he scanned the crowd for Elizabeth, wondering why, since this was their anniversary party, he’d spent so little time with her. Then he saw her dancing with Prince Sebastian. The man was holding her too close for Reed’s taste. If not for the Prince’s European sensibilities and the fact that he was getting married in Caspia on New Year’s Day to his American assistant, Tessa Banks, Reed would have had words with the man.
“I think the reputation of the entire building is at stake,” Vivian prattled on. “And if I were you—”
“You’re not me,” Reed pointed out.
Vivian took an imperious breath, the feathers jiggling again. “If I were you, I would do everything in my power to bring a speedy end to this embarrassing episode.”
“You don’t think I’m already doing that?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “You should think long and hard about how you go about protecting your family, your friends and your neighbors….”
Reed drew back from her shrewd expression and the odd turn of phrase.
“From the crushing embarrassment of being associated with an accused criminal,” she finished.
“Right,” said Reed. “The crushing embarrassment of my neighbors is my primary concern at the moment.”
“Good evening, Reed,” came a familiar male voice.
Vivian’s head came up, her self-confidence instantly evaporating.
“Good evening, Father,” said Reed.
Anton stared Vivian down until she mumbled something unintelligible and scooted away.
Reed resisted the urge to thank his father.
“Elizabeth is looking well.”
Reed turned his attention to the dance floor, agreeing that his wife looked incredibly beautiful, particularly considering everything she’d been through. “She’s coping the best she can.”
“I understand she’s taking care of her nephew now?”
“Our nephew,” Reed corrected.
“Yes, of course. And there are some grandparents in the picture?”
Reed gazed at his father’s inscrutable expression. “You mean the Vances?”
“I understand they’d like to raise the boy.”
“Lucas. His name is Lucas. And we’re his legal guardians.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
An uncomfortable feeling wedged its way into Reed’s stomach. “It’s not a matter of wise or unwise, Lucas is our responsibility now.”
“Unless the grandparents win the court case.”
“They won’t.”
His father squared his shoulders and set his jaw. “I wonder if you’ve thought this through.”
Reed waited to see where Anton was going.
“Have you considered the impact this … nephew—”
“Lucas.”
“—will have on your future children?”
And then Reed got it. And it was horrible. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting—”
“He’s not your natural-born son.”
Reed coughed out a hollow, disgusted laugh. “You’re worried about his pedigree? You’re worried that he will somehow detract from … what? Their inheritance? Will his bad breeding somehow rub off on them?”
Anton’s eyes turned to flints and he put his infamous intimidation mask in place. But it wasn’t about to work on Reed.
“I’m adopting Lucas,” Reed said firmly. “He’ll have every legal right of any other child I may or may not have in the future.”
The mask slipped. “He’d be your eldest son. The Wellington heir.”
“Yeah,” said Reed. “How about that.”
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