Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (4 page)

Motherhood
obviously agreed with her.

When
she crossed her arms to protect herself from his blatant perusal, she succeeded
in drawing attention to breasts that were fuller than they’d been three years
ago. That attribute, together with her rounded hips and slender waist, made his
hands itch to caress every beautiful inch of her.

A
series of conflicting emotions flickered across her face—pleasure, doubt,
guilt, fear—before she dropped her eyelids and hid her feelings behind an
impersonal mask. Before the night was done, he intended to slip behind that
mask to expose every one of her shuttered emotions.

He
curbed his anger and annoyance, joy and delight, to mimic her pretense of
indifference.

“Well,
Miz Kara Enderley, alive and in person.” Leaning a shoulder against the
doorframe, he used his purebred Georgian drawl. “Did the boat sink?”

Although
he retained his casual pose and allowed her to assess his appearance as
carefully as he’d assessed hers, the wariness remained in the depths of her
eyes.

“Wyatt.”
The strained whisper barely reached his ears. “I was afraid you’d show up.”

“May
I come in?” He planted his foot in the door.

She
pursed her lips, but after a moment, she stepped aside. He entered the house
and glanced at the evidence of her handiwork, from the gleaming wainscoting and
flooring up to the crown molding on the high ceiling and the stained glass
sidelight. Their arms accidentally brushed. Even that small contact pulled at
Wyatt with the same magnetic force that took hold of him whenever they touched.
Kara jumped back as if burned.

Her
irrational fear of him ignited his anger and erased his intention to let her
explain at her own pace. If she no longer acknowledged him as a friend, he’d
insist she remember him as her lover. He pulled her forward for a persuasive
kiss.

His
mouth boldly covered hers in a long-awaited reunion. Her body stiffened against
his and her mouth remained still and unresponsive, challenging him to use all
his pent up longing and desire to spark her inner fire to life. He slicked his
tongue across the seam of her lips and pushed his way inside.

The
taunting rhythm of his tongue lured her closer. She inched her arms around him
and participated in the embrace. He molded her hips to his, and she moaned,
rubbing against the erection that flared between them.

A
sudden crash came from the rear of the house. She tore herself away.

“Problem?”
Reminded of the real reason for his unscheduled visit, he commanded his
rampaging libido to retreat. “Something you need to check on? Dog? Cat?
Iguana?”

“Um,
no.” Breathless, she darted a look down the hallway and smoothed her hair. She
might try to pretend she hadn’t opened up to him like a bank vault to a
safecracker, but Wyatt knew better. She directed him to the formal parlor off
the entry. “You might as well come in. Have a seat. Please.”

He
lowered himself onto a small rose-patterned sofa and glanced around the
Victorian flower box of a room. The one space in the house she had decorated to
fit its original style.

Kara
remained in the doorway, a safe distance away. “Can I get you something?”

He
pictured her wielding a tea tray to keep him at bay, but he’d be damned before
he’d let her treat him like an unwelcome suitor. He patted the cushion beside
him. “Come talk to me, Kara. There are things we need to discuss.”

“What
things?” Skittish as a rabbit, she took a step forward.

Leaning
back, he forced himself to relax instead of bombarding her with accusations.
“Let’s start with why you said you were going on a cruise.”

She
straightened the shade on a Tiffany lamp with shaking fingers. Fingers that
were devoid of a wedding ring, he noted with relief.

Sparks
shot through the lavender gaze that met his and darted away. “I didn’t want to
see you.”

He
ignored the painful twist of his heart. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her
hands fluttered in a vague gesture. “I didn’t know how.”

“The
truth always worked for us before.”

Her
gaze flickered in his direction again, then away. She licked her lips. “Not
always.”

Small,
quick footsteps padded toward them. Heavier ones followed. Kara closed her eyes
and swallowed. A pint-sized pajama-clad dynamo hurled itself against her legs.
“Mom-mee!”

“Sorry,
Kara.” A dark-haired young girl stopped in the doorway. “I know you didn’t want
to be disturbed, but he wouldn’t wait any longer.”

“That’s
fine, Maria.” Kara swung the child up and settled him on her hip, pulling him
into a hug as she did so.

How
old was he? Wyatt wasn’t familiar enough with children to hazard a guess.

Maria
observed Wyatt with bold interest, but Kara dismissed her. “You can go on home
now. I’ll put him to bed.” Kara smoothed the toddler’s curls. “Tell Maria good
night.”

“Night-night,
‘Ria.” The little guy followed the words with an awkward wave.

“Night-night,
angel boy.” Maria dropped a kiss on his cheek and backed out of the room. “He’s
already had his medicine, Kara. See you two in the morning.”

Despite
Maria’s curiosity, Wyatt had felt oddly isolated throughout the exchange. His
interest bounced back and forth between Kara and her son. The boy snuggled
against her, his coppery curls resting on her shoulder, a thumb tucked in his
mouth. So much live-wire tension emanated from her direction that Wyatt
expected her to start generating sparks any second now.

“If
you’ll wait here,” she said, backing out of the room, “I’ll put him to bed.”

“I’ll
come, too.” He wouldn’t let her ditch him that easily.

Stepping
back, she swallowed. “No!” Her son lifted his head and creased his little face
into a pucker. Her volume lowered a notch. “Perhaps another time.”

“I
doubt there’ll be another time, Kara.” Wyatt’s annoyance flared. “I’m starting
to feel like I’m not welcome here.”

The
boy whimpered. Kara patted him on the back. “He hasn’t been feeling well this
week, so he’s a little grumpy. I’ll be back when he’s settled in bed.
Wait here
.”

She
seemed to expect Wyatt to heel, like a well-trained setter, but he followed her
up the stairs. Outside the baby’s room, she glared and gestured for him to wait
in the hall. He disobeyed that command, too.

“It’s
been a while since I’ve been in a nursery.” Stepping into the room, he observed
the nursery rhyme themes, executed in primary colors. “Xander’s the only child
in my immediate family, you know, and he’s sixteen now.”

Ignoring
him, Kara sat in the rocker, patted the child’s back, and hummed a quiet tune.
Wyatt moved around the immaculate room, pausing when the child fussed. Kara
continued crooning to him, and he settled down again.

Wyatt
examined a cluster of objects on the dresser. A small carousel. A teething
ring. A photograph in a silver frame inscribed with name, month and day of
birth. He picked up the frame and rubbed his finger over the inscription.
Sean Connor Enderley
.
Nice name
. He took some comfort in
noting the child had Kara’s last name.

Hmmm.
Connor was Wyatt’s middle name, too. The farfetched possibility that had been
nagging at him all evening exploded full-blown into his head.

He
searched the picture of a wrinkled, red-faced newborn with golden eyes too big
for his face, searching in vain for a resemblance to Kara. He set it down,
reached for an engraved pewter cup, but his gaze returned to the picture.

As
he lifted the picture and stared, his pulse hammered. The blood rushed from his
head.

Could
it be? He would swear he knew that face. He recognized that child.

His
child?

Almost
an exact duplicate of this picture stood a thousand miles away in his mother’s
sitting room, beside a similar photo of his sister and her son. Amazed that he
hadn’t seen the resemblance as soon as he saw the photograph, Wyatt shook his
head.

He
rechecked the birth date.
July 10
. A
quick calculation told him the timing fit with her visit to Atlanta.

He had a child!
The thought raced on an endless loop
through his head even though he was too numb to know what to do with the idea.

He
and Kara had a child.

The
truth blindsided him in a tender spot he didn't even know he had, rushing him
with intense feelings he couldn’t name.

Slowly,
he turned toward Kara and Sean. She stopped rocking the baby and sat
motionless, wearing a stricken, vulnerable expression. The color drained from
her face. She gathered the child more closely in her arms.

Wyatt
crossed the room and knelt beside them. He brushed his hand through the boy’s
soft curls. Sean lifted his head and looked at Wyatt with familiar amber eyes.
The child squirmed until Kara turned him around and sat him in her lap to face
Wyatt.

Wyatt’s pulse
accelerated as he confronted Kara. “Don’t you think it’s time for me to meet my
son?”

“Way
past time.” Kara nearly choked on her fear, but she forced herself to wrestle
it into a dark corner of her heart. “This is Sean.” Attempting to conceal her
terror, the simple words emerged in a monotone as she carefully held her son in
her arms.

From
the moment she’d spotted Wyatt at the gallery, she’d accepted the inevitability
of him discovering her secret. She had hoped… planned to tell him before he saw
Sean and added up the facts on his own. Now, it was ten minutes past too late.
She prepared herself to compromise in any way necessary to protect Sean from
the fallout.

But
Wyatt simply stared at the baby in mute fascination. He visually examined the
child with the same curiosity she’d seen him train on any subject that
interested him.

Kara
allowed his father to stroke a chubby cheek, caress a little shoulder, tug a
covered foot, and jiggle a tiny hand.

Like
father, like son, Sean followed suit. He patted Wyatt’s face, rubbed the
whiskers on his jaw, and chewed on the smooth texture of a Hermes necktie. Kara
pulled the expensive silk out of his mouth, but Sean’s interest in the touching
game continued. Performing one of his favorite tricks, he pressed on the nose
in front of him, and honked. “Beep, beep.”

Delighted,
Wyatt laughed aloud. “My God, he’s perfect.”

“Thank
you. I think so, too.” Kara refused to be charmed again by some man threatening
to tear her life apart.

“Tell
him who I am.”

“Wyatt...”
She closed her eyes, searching for a way to postpone the revelation. Once she
said the words aloud, their lives would never be the same. “He won’t
understand.”

“Tell
him. I think we all need to hear it.”

Unable
to deny him this request after denying him so much, she lifted the baby up and
stood him in her lap. “Sean, this is your father. Can you say hello?”

“H’llo-o.”
Sean placed enthusiastic emphasis on the last syllable and added a round of
patty-cake for good measure.

“Will
he let me hold him?”

Kara
gulped back another wave of fear as Wyatt reached out to take her child from
her. “He hasn’t been around many strangers.”

And
with the perverse nature of two-year-old children, Sean shocked her by going
right into Wyatt’s out-stretched arms. She folded hers over the pain erupting
inside her chest.

“Whoa,
he’s heavier than I expected.” Wyatt hefted his son like a sack of potatoes.
“How much does he weigh?”

“Twenty-two
pounds.”

“Is
that normal for his age?” Wyatt settled him against his chest, placing the round
baby face on eye level with his chiseled, masculine features.

She
struggled to answer around the lump in her throat. “Very normal.”

Sean
pulled on Wyatt’s ears with both hands. When the adult failed to do anything
interesting in response, his son wriggled to climb down. Wyatt held him firmly,
but Sean made his objections known with a loud screech.

“What
should I do?” Wyatt’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Give
him to me.” Kara pulled him away from his father, relieved to have the child
back where he belonged. “It’s late and he’s tired. I doubt he’ll calm down with
you here. Give me a few minutes to put him to bed, then I’ll join you
downstairs.” She took a deep breath. She needed to calm down more than Sean
did.

“I’ve
already missed too much.” Wyatt didn’t budge. “You both need to get used to
having me around.”

The
firm set of his jaw warned her he wouldn’t leave. Flustered by her inability to
control the situation, Wyatt, or her reaction to his presence, she resumed her
seat in the rocker. Observing the nightly routine, Sean’s father took up a
position by the door. His scrutiny sent all of Kara’s defense mechanisms on
high alert.

Her
soft lullaby soon had Sean nodding against her shoulder. Despite Wyatt’s
intrusion and the awkwardness of the situation, she searched for the joy and
inner peach she achieved every night when Sean nestled against her, thumb
tucked in his mouth. His eyelids drooped, but he roused up long enough to say,
“Blanky.”

Kara
reached for it, but Wyatt came forward. “What does he need?”

“The
blue quilt. On the crib.”

Unfamiliar
with the ritual, Wyatt tried to spread it across the child’s back, but Sean
tucked it in the crook of his arm. Within seconds, he relaxed with sleep.

She
extended the peaceful moment for her own pleasure, letting his sweet existence
center and calm her. After she laid him down, he assumed his preferred sleeping
position. Kara patted the bottom he stuck in the air.

Ignoring
Wyatt, she moved about the room, picking up Sean’s dirty clothes, placing his
shoes on the dresser, and stashed a truck in its assigned spot on the shelves.
When she had everything in Sean’s little corner of the world as neat and tidy
as she could make it, she switched on the night-light and turned out the lamp.

Her
dread of the coming confrontation plucked her nerves like fingers on harp
strings. She moved toward the door and beckoned for Wyatt to join her. He
backed out of the room, keeping his gaze fixed on the sleeping child until she
closed the door behind him.

Nothing
in Wyatt’s life had prepared him for the unexpected pride of looking at a child
and knowing that he had played a part in creating that child. With Kara. That
act forged a permanent and undeniable link between them.

Following
her down the stairs, he had to maintain a firm grip to keep from shouting with
joy. The silly grin was unavoidable. Who would have ever thought it possible?
That he had fathered a child? That he would find pleasure in acknowledging that
fact? Certainly not Wyatt.

He
wanted to stand at the side of the crib and watch Sean sleep all night. He
would have, too, if Kara hadn’t made her expectations clear. And she was right.
They did have important things to discuss.

In
the parlor, she turned to face him, fiddling with her right earring. One of the
star-shaped amethyst studs he’d sent her for Christmas the year before. He was
charmed to see that his gift had pleased her.

“My
God, Kara!” Torn between wanting to throttle her and hug her at the same time, he
settled for pulling her into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and spinning
her about. “He’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes,
he is.” She frowned as she pushed him away.

She
didn’t seem nearly as happy as he did, but then the revelation wasn’t new to
her.

“From
his date of birth,” he began, eager to learn as much about his son as he
possibly could, “I’m guessing you got pregnant when we were in Atlanta.”

“Yes.”
She perched on the edge of a small chair. “The first night.”

“When
you forgot your pills.” Vivid images of frantic, eager sex, hot and explosive,
burst through his brain and shot straight to his groin. Upright, clothes shoved
aside, propped against a door. Followed by a second coupling, tender and sweet,
but just as memorable. Just as intense. “That was a great night.”

He
smiled at the memory with satisfaction. She said nothing, refusing to be drawn
into a discussion about the pleasures they’d shared. She stared at him as if he
were mentally deficient for being so thrilled to find out he was the father of
a two-year-old-child. Just now finding out. The stark reality dimmed his
euphoria.

Now
that he understood why she’d been so determined to avoid him, other questions
begged for answers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I
didn’t think you’d be pleased.” Incomprehensible fear undulated from her in
waves.

For
God’s sake, what did she think he would do? Scold her? Mock her? Beat her? When
had he ever been less than kind to her? “I’m not pleased to know you had to go
through this alone.”

“What
would you have done if you had known?”

He
ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “I don’t know. I guess I’d have been
shocked, stunned. Scared, maybe.”

“Wouldn’t
you have been angry? Disappointed? Annoyed? Unwilling to accept the
responsibility?”

He
dropped onto a small footstool in front of her and captured her hands. “Why
would you think any of that, Kara mia?”

“When
we were in Atlanta, you said you didn’t want to be a father. You said you
doubted you could make that kind of commitment. And you said you didn’t want
the responsibility.” She pressed her lips together, halting the flow of words
she’d hurled at him.

For
one of the first times in his erudite life, he groped for a response. The right
words had to be in his head somewhere. They always had been before.

With
his silence, Kara took a deep breath and continued. “As I recall, you said you
thought the compulsion that led people to procreate stemmed from a need to
control someone else’s life.”

“Weren’t
we speaking hypothetically?” Damn. He’d failed a test he hadn’t known he was
taking. “We were in Atlanta. You met my mother. Her Machiavellian schemes were
the reason I left the family business and moved to California.”

“Yes,
but not long after that, when you came to see me in New York, I asked you
specifically if you ever wanted to have children and you said no.”

“Good
God, would you quit quoting things I said three years ago and don’t even
remember? Apparently, I say too damn many things for my own good.” He lifted
her chin with his hand. “While you, Kara mia, say too damn few.”

“I
was following your rules,” she reminded him. “Ask me no questions, tell me no
lies.”

“Now
I know I never said that.”

“Didn’t
you? Then how about this one?” Her lavender eyes flashed sparks. “When it’s
over between us, it’s over. No regrets and no recriminations. We part as
friends, but nothing more.”

All
right, he had said that, damn it. He’d probably said all of it at one time or
another, but she hadn’t objected at the time. And he hadn’t been aware of all
the facts. He hadn’t known about the child.

Where
was all her anger coming from? He was the injured party here. He clenched his
jaw to keep from lashing out when she had to be feeling her most vulnerable.
“Are you planning to use him against me in some way?”

“No.”
She bolted out of her chair to pace in front of the window. “And I expect the
same consideration from you.”

Rather
than remain in a subservient position at her feet, he shifted from the
footstool to the chair. “Meaning?”

“I
mean there’s nothing you can do to change the facts.”

“I
don’t want to change them. I want to understand them.” He pictured the boy
curled around a blue blanket in the crib upstairs, and the wonder of it struck
him again. A grin stole across his lips. “I can’t believe I have a child.”

“I
have a child.” She stopped in front of Wyatt with her hands at her sides, like
a gunslinger ready to draw. “He’s mine.”

“Mine,
too.” His hand curled around hers and he tugged. “Tell me about him.”

Her
eyes narrowed as if she suspected a trick. “What about him?”

“Anything.
Everything. I've got two years of his life to catch up on.”

“He
was a beautiful baby.” She hesitated over each word, each phrase. “And so good.
He slept all night from the time he was two months old, which I can tell you, is
a blessing for any nursing mother.”

“You
nursed him?” Heat surged through him as he imagined his child at her breast,
followed by a flash of disappointment that he hadn’t been offered the
opportunity to observe the real event.

“Of
course. Breastfeeding is much better for a baby than formula if nursing is at
all possible,” she said with a touch of condescension. “I was determined to do
the best I could for him in every way.”

“I’m
sure you’re very conscientious.” Surprisingly, he detected a warming in her eyes.
“How long has he been walking?”

“Since
he was ten months.” She smiled, lost in reflections of the past. “He was just a
tiny thing when he took off across the room with an odd little gait, kind of
like Charlie Chaplain. You should have seen him.” She didn’t quite gasp as she
realized her faux pas, but stiffened and twisted her hands. Silence stretched
taut between them.