The Tycoon's Secret Child. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ for stories. Reporters would be combing through Wes’s past. They would find Caroline. They would do stories, take pictures and, in general, open her life up to the world. This was fast becoming a nightmare.

      “The media’s been hounding me since this broke. I’ve got Robin fielding calls—she’ll stonewall them for as long as she can.”

      Wes’s assistant was fierce enough to hold the hordes at bay—but it wouldn’t last. They would eventually find her. Find Caroline. But even as threads of panic unwound and spiraled through her veins, Isabelle was already trying to figure out ways to protect her daughter from the inevitable media onslaught.

      “So.” Wes got her attention again. “More lies. You’re not Isabelle Gray. Your real last name is Graystone. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that. Isabelle Gray didn’t leave much of a mark on the world—but while typing in the name you gave me, up popped Isabelle Graystone. And a picture of you. So yeah. Surprised. Even more surprised to find out your family is all over the business world. As in Graystone shipping. Graystone hotels. Graystone every damn thing.

      “You didn’t tell me you were rich. Didn’t tell me your family has their fingers into every known pie in the damn country. You didn’t even tell me your damn name. You lied,” he continued wryly. “But then, you seem to be pretty good at that.”

      She flushed in spite of everything as she watched his gaze slide around the room before turning back to her. Fine, she had lied. But she’d done what she’d had to, so she wouldn’t apologize for it. And while that thought settled firmly into her brain, Isabelle ignored the niggle of guilt that continued to ping inside her.

      “Why’d you hide who you were when you were working for me?”

      Isabelle blew out a breath and said, “Because I wanted to be hired for me, for what I could do. Not because of who my family is.”

      Irritation, then grudging respect flashed across his face. “Okay. I can give you that one.”

      “Well,” she said, sarcasm dripping in her tone. “Thank you so much.”

      He went on as if she hadn’t said a word. “But once you had the job, you kept up the lie.” His eyes narrowed on her. “When we were sleeping together, you were still lying to me.”

      “Only about my name.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and held on. “I couldn’t tell you my real name without admitting that I’d lied to get the job.”

      “A series of lies, then,” he mused darkly. “And the hits just keep on coming.”

      “Why are you even here, Wes?” She was on marked time here and she knew it. Though it felt as if time was crawling past, she and Wes had already been talking for at least ten minutes. Caroline could come into the room any second. And Isabelle wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her little girl.

      “You can even ask me that?” he said, astonishment clear in his tone. “I just found out I’m a father. I’m here to see my daughter.”

      Damn it. “That’s not a good idea.”

      “Didn’t think you’d like it.” He nodded sharply. “Good thing it’s not up to you.”

      “Oh, yes, it is,” Isabelle said, lifting her chin to meet his quiet fury with some of her own.

      Funny, she’d thought about what this moment might be like over the years. How she would handle it if and when Wes discovered he had a child. She’d wondered if he’d even care. Well, that question had been answered. At least, partially. He cared. But what was it that bothered him most? That he had a child he didn’t know? Or that Isabelle had lied to him? At the moment, it didn’t matter.

      “You don’t want to fight me on this, Belle.” He took a step closer and stopped. “She’s my daughter, isn’t she?”

      No point in trying to deny it, since once he saw Caroline, all doubts would disappear. The girl looked so much like her dad, it was remarkable. “Yes.”

      He nodded, as if absorbing a blow. “Thanks for not lying about it this time.”

      “Wes...”

      “I have the right to meet her. To get to know her. To let her know me.” He stalked to the fireplace, laid one hand on the mantel and stared into the flames. “What does she know about me?” He turned his head to look at her. “What did you tell her?”

      His eyes were gleaming, his jaw was set and every line of his body radiated tension and barely controlled anger.

      “I told her that her father couldn’t be with us but that he loved her.”

      He snorted. “Well, thanks for that much, anyway.”

      “It wasn’t for your benefit,” she said flatly. “I don’t want my daughter guessing that her father didn’t want her.”

      “I would have,” he argued, pushing away from the mantel to face her again. “If I’d known.”

      “Easy enough to say now.”

      “Well, I guess we’ll never know if things would have been different, will we?” he said tightly. “But from here on out, Belle, things are going to change. I’m not going anywhere. I’m in this. She’s mine and I want to be part of her life.”

      Isabelle was so caught up in the tension strung between them, she almost didn’t notice Caroline walk quietly into the room to stand beside her. Her first instinct was to stand in front of her. To somehow hide the little girl from the father who had finally found her. But it was far too late for that.

      Instantly, Wes’s gaze dropped to the girl, and his features softened, the ice melted from his eyes and a look of wonder crossed his face briefly. Of course he could see the resemblance. Isabelle saw it every time she looked at her daughter. She was a tiny, feminine version of Wes Jackson and there was just no way he could miss it.

      “Hi,” he said, his voice filled with a warmth that had been lacking since the moment he arrived.

      “Hi,” Caroline said, as her fingers flew. “Who are you?”

      Before he could say anything, Isabelle said, “This is Mr. Jackson, sweetie. He’s just leaving in a minute.”

      He shot her one quick, hard look, as Isabelle dropped one hand protectively on her daughter’s shoulder.

      “We’re not done talking.” His gaze was hard and cold, his voice hardly more than a hush of sound.

      “I guess not,” she said, then looked down at her baby girl. Using her hands as well as her voice, she said, “I heard Edna’s car pull into the driveway a minute ago. Why don’t you go help her with the groceries? Then you can go upstairs and play while Mommy talks to the man.”

      “What about the ice cream?” Caro asked.

      “Later,” she signed. Sighing a little, she watched Caroline smile and wave at Wes before turning to head back to the kitchen.

      Once the little girl had hurried out of the room, Wes looked at Isabelle. “She’s deaf?”

      “Good СКАЧАТЬ