A Clandestine Corporate Affair Read online

  Nathan reached up and gently cupped her son’s face, turning his head so he could see behind his ear. Thinking it was a game, Max batted at his hand and wiggled in her arms.

  She’d heard of people going ghostly white but had never actually witnessed it until just then. He definitely knew, and he clearly wasn’t expecting this. Hadn’t even considered it being a remote possibility.

  “A private word?” he asked, jaw tense, teeth gritted.

  “Where?” They were at a party with at least two hundred other people, most of whom knew she and Nathan wouldn’t have a lot to talk about. Where could they possibly go without drawing attention to themselves? “You wouldn’t want to be seen with the daughter of a direct competitor,” she snapped in a voice filled with so much pent-up resentment she barely recognized it as her own. “What would people think?”

  Nathan’s jaw tensed. “Just tell me this,” he said under his breath. “Is he mine?”

  Oh, boy. How many times had she imagined this moment? What she would say if ever faced with this situation. She had rehearsed the conversation a thousand times, but now that the moment was here her mind was totally blank.

  “Answer me,” he demanded, sounding far too much like her father.

  Did you really sneak a bottle of my good scotch into the school dance? Answer me, Ana Marie Birch!

  She had no choice but to tell Nathan the truth, but all she could manage was a stiff nod.

  Nathan cursed, anger flashing in his eyes, holding her arm so tight he was cutting off the blood flow to her fingers. In all the time she’d been with him, she’d never seen him so much as raise his voice. His outrage was probably just a knee-jerk reaction. He was upset because she hadn’t told him, but would ultimately be relieved when she assured him he had no responsibilities in regard to her son. Financial or parental. He might even thank her for being so reasonable and honoring his wishes. Then he would leave, and hopefully she would never have to see him again.

  Of course there was another possibility. One she’d found too disturbing to consider until now. Or maybe she’d just refused to let herself go there. What if he wanted to be a part of Max’s life? What if he wanted visitation and a say in the decisions? What if he tried to take Max away from her?

  The thought made her clutch her son closer to her chest, which of course made him wiggle in protest. For nine months he had been her entire life. The only person who truly loved and needed her. She refused to let anyone, especially a man like Nathan, who didn’t have time for a girlfriend much less a son, take that away from her.

  “Should I assume,” Nathan asked through gritted teeth, “that you never intended to tell me?”

  “To be honest,” she said, lifting her chin with a defiance that was meant to hide the fact that inside she was terrified, “I didn’t think you would care.”

  Two

  He had a son.

  Nathan could hardly wrap his mind around the concept. And Ana was wrong. He did care. Probably too much. The instant he saw her talking to Beth his heart slammed the wall of his chest so hard it stole his breath, and when their eyes met he’d experienced such a bone-deep need to be close to her, he was down the stairs and striding in her direction before he could consider the repercussions of his actions.

  After he ended their affair, he must have picked up the phone a dozen times that first week, ready to tell her that he’d made a mistake, that he wanted her back, even though it would have been the end of his career at Western Oil. But he had worked too damned hard to get where he was to throw it all away for a relationship that was doomed from the start to fail. So he had done the only thing he could. He’d gotten over her…or so he thought. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp and her grimace said he was hurting her. Damn it. He released his grip and clamped a vice down on his temper. He worked damned hard to maintain control at all times. What was it about her that made him abandon all good sense?

  “We need to talk,” he said in a harsh whisper. “Now.”

  “This is hardly the place,” she said.

  She was right. If they disappeared together people were bound to notice. And talk.

  “Okay, this is what we’re going to do,” he said. “You’re going to say goodbye to Beth, get in your car and drive home. A few minutes after that I’m going to slip out. I’ll meet you at your condo.”

  Her chin rose a notch. “And if I say no?”

  She was trying to be tough, trying to play the spoiled heiress card, but he knew better. He knew that deep down the defiant confidence she flaunted like some badge of honor was nothing more than a smokescreen to hide the fact that she was as vulnerable and insecure as the next woman.

  “Not advisable,” he said. “Besides, you owe me the courtesy of an explanation.”

  Even she couldn’t deny that, and after a brief pause she said, “Fine.”

  What else could she say? She may have been stubborn and, yes, a little spoiled, but she was an intelligent woman. She walked away, clutching her son—their son—unsteady on the grass in her ridiculously high-heeled boots. Hooker boots, his brother Jordan would have called them. Not the typical attire for an heiress, and even less appropriate for a mother, but she never had been one to play by the rules, which was what had drawn Nathan to her in the first place. Her confidence and her spunk had been an incredible turn-on, especially when he was used to dating “proper” women. The kind who would keep him grounded, who wouldn’t tempt him from within the safe place he’d carved out for himself and back into the dark side. But she hadn’t been nearly as wicked as she wanted people to believe. In fact, she’d coaxed him farther out into the light than any other woman had managed.

  Nathan spotted Beth and headed in her direction. He didn’t doubt for a second that she knew the baby was his. And the look on her face as he approached said she knew that he knew. “She swore us to secrecy,” Beth said before he could get a word out.

  “You should have told me.”

  She snorted. “Like you didn’t already know.”

  “How could I have?”

  “Come on, Nathan. You break up with a woman and a month later she turns up pregnant, and you’re telling me you didn’t even suspect it was yours?”

  Of course he had. He kept waiting for a call from Ana. He trusted that if the child was his she would have the decency to tell him. When he didn’t hear from her he just assumed the baby was another man’s, which he’d taken to mean that she’d wasted no time moving on. Which he couldn’t deny stung like hell.

  Turned out there really hadn’t been anyone else—at least, not that he knew of. That wasn’t much of a consolation at this point.

  “It was wrong of her to keep it from me,” he told Beth.

  “Yes, it was. But—and she would kill me if she knew I was telling you this—you broke her heart, Nathan. She was devastated when you ended the relationship. So, please, cut her a little slack.”

  That was no excuse to keep his child from him. “I have to go. Give the birthday girl a kiss for me.”

  Beth’s brow cinched with worry. “Go easy on her, Nathan. You have no idea what she’s been through the past year and a half. The pregnancy, the birth…she did everything on her own.”

  “That was her choice. At least she had one.” Feeling angry and betrayed by people he trusted, Nathan turned and headed toward the parking lot. Although, honestly, what had he expected? He and Leo had drifted since their college days, and Beth was Ana’s cousin. Had he really expected her to break the confidence of a family bond for a casual acquaintance? If that were the case, should Nathan have felt compelled in college to tell Beth how many times he had come back to the frat house to find her husband Leo, then her steady boyfriend, in his room with another girl?

  Besides, he thought, as he slipped behind the wheel of his Porsche, maybe he had suspected the baby was his and deep down didn’t want to know the truth. Maybe that’s why he never called her, never confirmed for his own peace of mind. Ma
ybe the truth scared the hell out of him. What would he do if it was his kid? What would he tell Adam Blair, his boss and CEO of Western Oil? He was having a child who just happened to be the grandson of the owner of the company’s leading competitor. That would have been a disaster then, but now, since the explosion at the refinery, and the suspicion that Birch Energy might somehow be involved, it was a whole new ball game. Not only could he kiss goodbye any chance at the soon-to-be-open CEO position, he would probably lose the job he already had.

  Besides, what the hell did he know about being a father, other than the fact that he didn’t want to be anything like his own father? But the margin for error was still astronomical.

  He’d been to Ana’s condo in Raven Hill so many times he drove there on autopilot. When he pulled into the driveway, a white luxury SUV was already parked there. She must have traded in her sports car for something more practical. Because that was what responsible parents did. And despite everything, he didn’t doubt for a second that Ana would be a good mother. She used to talk about losing her own mother and how her father ignored her. She said that when she had children they would be the center of her universe.

  Nathan and his brother Jordan had the opposite problem. Their father had been on their backs, cramming his principles down their throats and bullying them into doing things his way since they were old enough to have free will. Which Nathan hadn’t hesitated to exercise in full force, butting heads with the old man on a daily basis. Giving back as good as his father gave, until he’d pushed so far in the opposite direction, was so crippled by rage and indignation, he had lost a part of himself in the process.

  He parked beside the SUV, let go of the steering wheel and flexed his fingers. He’d been gripping it so hard his arms ached. He needed to relax. Yes, he was pissed, but going in there half-cocked was only going to make a bad situation worse.

  He took a deep, calming breath, got out, and walked to the porch. Ana was standing in the open doorway waiting for him, as she had been countless times before. They couldn’t be seen in public together, so they’d spent most of their time together here. Only this time as she let him in and closed the door, she didn’t slide her arms around his neck and pull him to her for a long, slow kiss. The kind that made the stress of the day roll off his shoulders, until nothing mattered but being with her. He wondered what she would do if he drew her against him and pressed his lips to hers.

  She would probably deck him, and he would deserve it. But it was almost worth the risk. Despite the time that had passed, he wanted her as much now as the first day he met her. As much as the day he walked out the door. Cutting all ties, ending things before they both got in too deep, had been the kindest thing he could do for her. For either of them. And he’d be smart to remember that.

  Ana had shed the silk jacket and boots, and in form-fitting jeans, a peasant blouse and bare feet, she looked more like a college student than someone’s mother. As always, she was a total contrast to the conservative chinos and button-up shirt that was his standard uniform. His disguise, to hide the real man lurking underneath the spit and polish. He’d never admitted to anyone, not even Ana, how damned hard it could be to keep him contained.

  He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. “Where’s the baby?”

  “He’s in bed.”

  “I want to see him.” He started for the hall that led to the bedrooms, but she stepped in his way.

  “Maybe later.”

  Anger sparked, then ignited, hot and intense, and had his blood pumping through his veins. “Are you saying you refuse to let me see my own son?”

  “He’s asleep. Besides, I think it’s best if we talk first.”

  He had half a mind to demand to see him, to push his way past her. Hadn’t she kept him from the kid long enough? But she was standing there, arms crossed, wearing a mama-bear look that said it would be in his best interest not to screw with her or her child. When it came to their son, she clearly didn’t mess around.

  He clamped a vice down on his anger and said, “Okay, let’s talk.”

  She gestured across the spacious living room to the couch. “Have a seat.”

  Her home had always had a relaxed feel, and despite the service that cleaned weekly there had always been clutter. But now, with toys strewn everywhere, it was like walking through a minefield to get to the couch. As he sat he had a vivid memory of the two of them sitting there together naked, her straddling him, head thrown back, eyes closed, riding him until they were both blind with ecstasy. The memory had his blood pumping through his veins again.

  “Something to drink?” she asked.

  How about a cold shower instead? “No thanks.”

  She sat cross-legged in the overstuffed chair across from him.

  Since he saw no reason not to get right to the point, he asked, “So you thought it was okay to have my child and not tell me?”

  “When you heard that I was pregnant, you could have asked,” she said.

  “I shouldn’t have had to.”

  She shrugged, as if she saw nothing wrong with her actions. “Like I said, I didn’t think you would care. In fact, I thought you would probably be happier not knowing. You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want a family. If I had told you, what would you have done? Would you have risked your career to claim him?”

  He honestly didn’t know, which he couldn’t argue legitimized her point. But this wasn’t just about how it would affect his career. There were other factors to consider, things she didn’t know about him. Still, he would have liked the opportunity to make that decision himself. “Either way it was my choice to make, not yours.”

  “If you didn’t have time for me, how could you have time for a child?”

  It wasn’t just about not having time. She might not have understood it, she probably never would, but he did her a favor when he ended their affair. She made him drop his guard, lose control, and with a man like him that could only spell trouble. He just wasn’t relationship material. Not the kind of relationship she needed anyway. The kind she deserved. She was too passionate and full of life. Too…sweet. She didn’t need him dragging her down.

  “What you really mean is,” he said, “I hurt you, and this was your way to hurt me back?”

  “That isn’t what I said.”

  No, but he could see that he’d hit a nerve.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” she said. “If you want to talk about Max, fine. But if you came here to point fingers, you might as well leave.”

  He leaned forward. “You could at least have the decency, the courage, to admit you may have made a mistake.”

  “I did what I thought was best for my baby. For everyone.” She paused, then added grudgingly, “But I won’t deny that I was hurt and confused and maybe not considering everyone’s feelings.”

  Nathan figured that was about as close to an admission of guilt, or an apology, as he was going to get. And she was right: pointing fingers would get them nowhere. Neither would flying off the handle. The only way to discuss this was calmly and rationally. And considering her tendency to leap to the defensive, he was going to have to be the sensible one. In short, he considered how his father would handle the situation, then did the exact opposite.

  He swallowed his bitterness, and a fairly large chunk of his pride, and said, “Let’s forget about placing blame, or who wronged who, and why don’t you tell me about my son.”

  “First, why don’t you tell me what you plan to do now that you know about him,” Ana said. There would be no point in him learning about a son he had no intention of seeing. Although he did seem to want to handle this in a civilized manner, and she was grateful. Though she could take whatever he could dish out and then some, it was always more fun not to be verbally drawn and quartered.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure what I plan to do,” he said. “I’m still trying to process this.”

  “You’re worried about how it will affect your career?”

&n
bsp; “Of course that’s a concern.”

  “It shouldn’t be. He’s your son. You should love and accept him unconditionally. If you can’t do that, there’s no room in his life for you.”

  “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

  “No, I don’t. He’s my responsibility and I know what’s best for him. And unless you’re willing to claim him as your child, and carve out a permanent place in your life for him—and that includes regular visitation that is convenient for me—you can forget seeing him at all. He needs stability, not a sometimes father who yo-yos in and out of his life on a whim.”

  An uncharacteristic show of anger hardened his expression. “I imagine you’ll be expecting child support as well,” he said, jaw tense.

  He just didn’t get it. He thought she was being obtuse, but this wasn’t about the money, or a need to manipulate him. This was all about Max and what he needed. “Keep your money. We don’t need it.”

  “He’s my child and my financial responsibility.”

  “You can’t buy your way into his life, Nathan. He’s not for sale. If you can’t be there for him emotionally, for the long haul, you’re out of the game. That’s nonnegotiable.”

  She could see he wasn’t thrilled with her direct approach, or her list of demands, but that was too damned bad. Parenting was tough, and either he was in or he was out. He couldn’t do it halfway.

  “I guess I have a lot to think about,” Nathan said.

  “I imagine you do.” She rose from the chair, prompting him to do the same. “When you’ve made a decision, then you can see Max.”

  He pulled himself to his feet, looking irritated, and maybe a little shell-shocked. The enormity of what she was asking from him was not lost on her. Being responsible for another human being, knowing she would shape Max into the adult he would one day become, was terrifying and emotionally exhausting…and the most rewarding thing she had ever done or even imagined doing.