Secrets, Lies & Lullabies

“Why didn’t you tell me when you found out you were pregnant?”

It was the question Jessica had been dreading ever since she’d made the decision not to tell him.

It had been the wrong decision. Or at the very least, the wrong thing to do. There had been so many factors to consider, though, and she’d been so very frightened and alone.

To Alex, however, she said simply, “I didn’t think you’d want to know. Most men wouldn’t.”

“I’m not most men,” he said slowly and very deliberately, almost as though each word was a statement unto itself. “I would have stepped up to the plate. And I most certainly would have wanted to know I’d fathered a child.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jessica didn’t know what else to say, not without saying far too much.

Dear Reader,

I am absolutely delighted to share Secrets, Lies & Lullabies with you because … well, here’s a little secret of my own—this story has been playing at the back of my mind for quite some time. It’s actually an idea I first began working on several years ago. Which is proof, I guess, that one should never give up on an idea one feels strongly about, even if it has to be set aside for a while to focus on other things.

A bit of replotting and a lot of rewriting were required, but I’m finally able (and delighted!) to share Alex and Jessica and their passionate romance with you. It has a little of everything, too—a torrid affair, an attempt at revenge, a secret baby and definitely a happily-ever-after.

I hope you enjoy!

Heidi Betts

About the Author

An avid romance reader since junior high, USA TODAY bestselling author & HEIDI BETTS knew early on that she wanted to write these wonderful stories of love and adventure. It wasn’t until her freshman year of college, however, when she spent the entire night before finals reading a romance novel instead of studying, that she decided to take the road less traveled and follow her dream.

Soon after Heidi joined Romance Writers of America, her writing began to garner attention, including placing in the esteemed Golden Heart competition three years in a row. The recipient of numerous awards and stellar reviews, Heidi’s books combine believable characters with compelling plotlines, and are consistently described as “delightful,” “sizzling” and “wonderfully witty.”

For news, fun and information about upcoming books, be sure to visit Heidi online at HeidiBetts.com.

Secrets, Lies

& Lullabies

Heidi Betts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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You saved my butt more than you will ever know,

and I just can’t thank you enough.

One

Alexander Bajoran swiped his key card and pushed open the heavy oak door to his suite. He’d been halfway down the winding mile-long drive leading away from the luxurious yet rustic resort—aptly named Mountain View Lodge—when he realized he’d forgotten a stack of much-needed paperwork. Now he was late for his meeting, and it was going to be nearly impossible to make it into downtown Portland on time.

He let the door swing closed behind him as he marched toward the large cherrywood desk on the far side of the sitting area. Six steps in, he stopped short at the sound of someone else moving around in the suite. Turning toward the bedroom, he paused in the doorway, taking note of the woman stripping his bed and shaking her rear end to a song only she could hear.

She was wearing a maid’s uniform, but sadly not one of the sexy French variety. Just a simple gray dress that did nothing to compliment her figure or coloring.

Her blond hair was pulled up and twisted at the back of her head, held in place by a large plastic clip, but he could still see bits of color peeking out here or there. A thin streak of black, then auburn, then blue running down one side and blending into the rest.

Yes, blue. The woman had blue hair. At least a few bits of it.

She was humming beneath her breath, the occasional odd lyric tripping off her tongue as she whipped back the top sheet, then a corner of the fitted one. The quilted coverlet was already in a heap on the floor.

As she danced around, oblivious to his presence, he noticed the glitter of earrings lining the entire length of one ear. Studs, hoops, dangles; there must have been seven or eight in her right ear alone. The left had only four that he could see—three near the lobe and one higher up near her temple.

Despite all the silver and gold and jeweled settings, he knew they had to be fake. No way could a chambermaid afford the real thing. Which was a shame, because she’d look good in diamonds. And he should know—diamonds were his business.

Soiled sheets balled up in her arms, she turned suddenly, jumping back and giving a high-pitched shriek when she saw him standing there.

He held his hands up in the universal I-mean-you-no-harm gesture. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he offered by way of apology.

Reaching up, she yanked the buds from her ears and tucked them into the pocket of the white apron that must have held her MP3 player. He could hear the heavy beat of her music as she fumbled to turn down the volume.

Now that he could look at her straight on, he noticed she wasn’t wearing makeup … or not much, at any rate. Strange, considering her hair and jewelry choices. She even had a small gold hoop with a tiny fleck of cubic zirconia hanging from the outer edge of her right eyebrow.

Eyes still wide from the scare he’d given her, she licked her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anybody would be here. I didn’t see the sign on the knob.”

He shook his head. “There wasn’t one. I expected to be gone for the day, but forgot something I need for a meeting.”

He didn’t know why he was telling her this. He didn’t normally spend a lot of time explaining himself to anyone. But the longer he stood here talking, the longer he got to look at her. And he did enjoy looking at her.

That, too, was unusual for him. The women he dated tended to be socialites from wealthy families. Polished and sophisticated, the type who spent their days at the garden club doing nothing more strenuous than planning their next thousand-dollar-a-plate fundraiser for the charity du jour.

Never before had he found himself even remotely attracted to someone with multicolored hair and excessive piercings. But the young woman standing in front of him was fascinating in an exotic-animal, priceless-piece-of-artwork way.

She seemed to be slightly disconcerted by his presence, as well, staring at him as if she expected him to bite.

“Is there anything you need, as long as I’m here?” she asked, nervously licking her lips over and over again. “Extra towels or glasses, that sort of thing?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Then, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say or any other reason to stand there, staring at the help as though she was on display, he moved away, heading back across the sitting room and grabbing up the file he’d forgotten. It was her turn to stand in the bedroom doorway while he slapped the manila folder against his free hand a couple of times.

“Well,” he murmured, for no particular reason, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment, still watching him warily.

Walking to the suite’s main door, he pulled it open and set one foot across the threshold into the hall. But before walking off, he couldn’t resist turning back and taking one last glance at the intriguing young woman who had already returned to her job of changing his sheets.

“It was Alexander Bajoran,” Jessica said in a harsh whisper, leaning so far across the small round deli table that her nose very nearly touched her cousin’s.

“You’re kidding,” Erin returned in an equally hushed voice, her eyes going wide in amazement.

Jessica shook her head, crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back in her chair, causing her cousin to move forward in hers. Their sandwiches sat untouched in front of them, their ice-filled fountain drinks slowly producing rivulets of condensation down the sides of the paper cups.

“Did he recognize you?” Erin asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything, but he was looking at me a little funny.”

“Funny, how?”

Jessica flashed her a tiny grin. “The usual.”

“Well, you do tend to stand out.”

Jessica stuck her tongue out at her cousin’s teasing. “We can’t all be prim and proper Jackie O wannabes.”

“Nobody’s asking you to be Jackie O. The family just wishes you weren’t quite so intent on being the next Courtney Love.”

Following through on the natural instincts that had probably earned her that reputation in the first place, Jessica flipped her cousin a good-natured hand gesture. Not the least offended by the response, Erin merely rolled her eyes.

“Actually, your unique personal style may work in our favor. You don’t look at all the way you did five years ago. Chances are, Bajoran won’t have a clue who you are.”

“I hope not. I’ll try to switch floors with Hilda, though. That should keep me from accidentally bumping into him again.”

“No, don’t do that!” Erin said quickly. “The fact that he doesn’t recognize you is a good thing. You can move around his suite freely without arousing suspicion.”

“Arousing suspicion?” Jessica repeated. “Who am I—James Bond?”

“If I could do it, I would, believe me,” Erin told her with no small amount of bitterness leeching into her voice. “But you’re the one he already thinks is a chambermaid.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Why does that matter?”

“Because it means you can move around the lodge without being noticed. You know what men like Bajoran are like. Rich and self-absorbed … to him, you’ll be all but invisible.”

Jessica understood her cousin’s anger, really she did. Fifty years ago, Alexander Bajoran’s grandfather and great-uncle had launched Bajoran Designs. Soon after, they’d begun a partnership with Jessica’s and Erin’s grandfathers, who owned Taylor Fine Jewels. Both companies had been based in Seattle, Washington, and together they’d been responsible for creating some of the most beautiful and valuable jewelry in the world. Million-dollar necklaces, bracelets and earrings worn by celebrities and royalty across the globe.

The Taylor-Bajoran partnership had lasted for decades, making both families extremely wealthy. And then one day about five years ago, Alexander had taken over Bajoran Designs from his father, and his first order of business had been to steal her family’s company right out from under them.

Without warning he’d bought up a majority of shares of Taylor Fine Jewels and forced Jessica’s and Erin’s fathers off the Board of Directors so he could absorb the company into his own and essentially corner the market on priceless jewels and their settings.

Thanks to Alexander’s treacherous move, the Taylor family had gone bankrupt and been driven out of Seattle almost overnight. They were far from destitute, but all the same, the Taylors were not used to living frugally. Jessica didn’t think her mother was used to her new, more middle-class lifestyle even now, and Erin’s mother had taken the reversal of fortune hardest of all.

Jessica was doing okay, though. Did she enjoy being a maid at a resort where she used to be a guest? Where she used to stay in a three-thousand-dollar-a-night suite and that her family could easily have purchased with a flick of the wrist?

Not always. But being a maid, working at a normal job like a normal person, gave her a freedom she’d never felt as a rich, well-known socialite. No way could she have gotten away with streaks in her hair and pierced everything when she’d been one of those Taylors. When she’d been attending luncheons at the country club with her mother and been the subject of regular snapshots by local and national paparazzi.

Money was good, but she thought anonymity might be a little bit better. For her, at least. For Erin, she knew the opposite was true.

“Why do I need to be invisible?” she asked finally. “It’s lucky enough he didn’t recognize me the first time. I should switch floors and maybe even shifts with one of the other girls before he does.”

“No!” Erin exploded again. “Don’t you see? This is our chance! Our chance to get back at that bastard for what he did to us.”

“What are you talking about?” Thoroughly confused, Jessica shook her head. “How could we possibly get back at him for that? He’s a millionaire. Billionaire. The CEO of a zillion-dollar company. We’re nobodies. No money, no power, no leverage.”

“That’s right, we’re nobodies. And he’s the CEO of a zillion-dollar company that used to be ours. Maybe it could be again.”

Before Jessica had the chance to respond, Erin rushed on. “He’s here on business, right? That means he has to have business information with him. Paperwork, contracts, documents we could use to possibly get Taylor Fine Jewels back.”

“Taylor Fine Jewels doesn’t exist anymore. It’s been absorbed into Bajoran Designs.”

“So?” Erin replied with a shrug of one delicate shoulder. “It can always be un-absorbed.”

Jessica didn’t know how that would work. She wasn’t sure it was even possible. But whether it was or it wasn’t, what Erin was suggesting was insanity.

“I can’t go poking around in his things. It’s wrong. And dangerous. And corporate espionage. And definitely against Mountain View policy. I could lose my job!”

Her cousin made a sound low in her throat. “It’s only corporate espionage if you’re employed by a rival company. Which you’re not, because Alexander Bajoran stole our company and put us all out on the street. And who cares if you lose that stupid job? Surely you can scrub toilets for the wealthy elite at some other high-priced hotel.”

Jessica leaned back, stunned by the venom in her cousin’s voice, as well as her obvious disdain for Jessica’s occupation. Yes, she scrubbed toilets and stripped beds and vacuumed carpets instead of folding scarves and dressing mannequins at an upscale boutique like Erin, but she kind of liked it. She got to spend most of her time alone, got along well with the rest of the housekeeping staff and didn’t have to claim her sometimes quite generous tips on her taxes.

And it kept her busy enough that she didn’t have time to dwell on the past or nurse a redwood-size grudge against an old enemy the way her cousin obviously did.

“Come on, Jess. Please,” Erin begged. “You have to do this. For the family. We may never get another opportunity to find out what Bajoran is up to, or if there’s some way—any way—to rebuild the business and our lives.”

She wanted to refuse. Should refuse. But the pain in Erin’s voice and in her eyes gave Jessica pause.

She could maybe poke around a little.

“What would I have to do?” she asked carefully. “What would I be looking for?”

“Just … see if you can find some paperwork. On the desk, in his briefcase if he leaves it. Interoffice memos, maybe, or documents outlining his next top secret, underhanded takeover.”

Against her better judgment, Jessica gave a reluctant nod. “All right, I’ll do it. But I’m not going to get caught. I’ll glance around. Keep my eyes open. But I’m not going to rummage through his belongings like a common thief.”

Erin’s nod was much more exuberant. “Fine, I understand. Just look around. Maybe linger over fluffing the pillows if he’s on the phone … listen in on his conversation.”

She wasn’t certain she could do that, either, but simply acting like she would seemed to make her cousin happy enough.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Erin. This has ‘Lucy and Ethel’ written all over it, and you know how their crazy schemes always turned out. I’m not going to jail for you, either. A Taylor with a criminal record would get even more press than one having to work a menial, nine-to-five job cleaning other people’s bathrooms.”

Two

This was insane.

She was a former socialite turned chambermaid, not some stealthy spy trained to ferret out classified information. She didn’t even know what she was looking for, let alone how to find it.

Her cart was in the hall, but she’d dragged nearly everything she needed to clean and restock the room in with her. Sheets, towels, toilet paper, the vacuum cleaner … If there were enough supplies spread out, she figured she would look busier and have more of an excuse for moving all over the suite in case anyone—specifically Alexander Bajoran—came in and caught her poking around.

The problem was, his suite was pretty much immaculate. She’d been cleaning it herself on a daily basis, even before he’d checked in, and the Mountain View’s housekeeping standards were quite high. Add to that the fact that Alexander Bajoran was apparently quite tidy himself, and there was almost nothing personal left out for her to snoop through.

Regardless of what she’d let her cousin believe, she was not going to ransack this room. She would glance through the desk, under the bed, in the nightstands, maybe inside the closet, but she was not going to root through his underwear drawer. Not when she didn’t even know what she was supposed to be looking for.

Business-related what? Compromising … what?

Jessica couldn’t blame her cousin for wanting to find something incriminating. Anything that might turn the tables on the man who had destroyed the Taylors’ livelihood and a few members of the family personally.

But how realistic was that, really? It had been five years since Bajoran’s hostile takeover. He had moved on and was certainly juggling a dozen other deals and business ventures by now. And even if those weren’t entirely on the level, she doubted he was walking around with a paper trail detailing his treachery.

The sheets were already pulled off the bed and in a heap on the floor, so it looked as though she was busy working. And since she was close, she quickly, quietly slid open one of the nightstand drawers.

Her hands were shaking, her fingertips ice-cold with nerves, and she was shivering in her plain white tennis shoes. Sure, she was alone, but the hallway door was propped open—as was lodge policy—and at any moment someone could walk in to catch her snooping.

She didn’t know which would be worse—being caught by Alexander Bajoran or by her supervisor. One could kick up enough of a stink to get her fired … the other could fire her on the spot.

But she didn’t need to worry too much right that second, because the drawer was empty. It didn’t hold so much as a Bible or telephone directory. Mountain View wasn’t that kind of resort. If you needed a Bible or phone book or anything else—even items of a personal nature—you simply called the front desk and they delivered it immediately and with the utmost discretion.

Closing the drawer on a whisper, she kicked the soiled sheets out of her way and shook out the clean fitted sheet over the bare mattress as she rounded the foot of the bed. She covered one corner and then another before releasing the sheet to open the drawer of the opposite nightstand.

This one wasn’t empty, and her heart stuttered in her chest at the knowledge that she was actually going to have to follow through on this. She was going to have to search through her family’s archenemy’s belongings.

The bottom drawer of the bedside bureau held a decanter of amber liquid—scotch, she presumed, though she’d never really been in charge of restocking the rooms’ bars—and a set of highball glasses. The top drawer held a thick, leather-bound folder and dark blue Montblanc pen.

She swallowed hard. Once she moved that pen and opened the folder, that was it … she was invading Alexander’s privacy and violating the employee agreement she’d signed when she’d first started working at the lodge.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for just a split second, then reached for the pen. As quickly as she could she flipped open the folder and tried to get her racing mind to make sense of the papers inside.

Her eyes skimmed the print of the first two pages, but nothing jumped out at her as being important or damaging. And the rest was just pictures of jewelry. Snapshots of finished pieces and sketches of what she assumed were proposed designs.

Beautiful, beautiful jewelry. The kind her family used to create. The kind she used to dream of being responsible for.

She’d grown up pampered and protected, and was pretty sure her parents had never expected her to do anything more than marry well and become the perfect trophy wife. But what she’d truly aspired to all those years she’d spent primping and attending finishing school was to actually work for Taylor Fine Jewels. Or possibly more specifically their partner company, Bajoran Designs.

Like any young woman, she loved jewelry. But where most of her peers had only wanted to wear the sparkly stuff, she’d wanted to make it. She loved sifting through cut and uncut gems to find the perfect stone for a setting she’d drawn herself.

All through high school her notebooks and the margins of her papers had been filled with intricate doodles that were in reality her ideas for jewelry designs. Her father had even used a few for pieces that had gone on to sell for six and seven figures. And for her sixteenth birthday, he’d surprised her with a pearl-and-diamond ring in a setting that had always been one of her very favorites.

It was still one of her favorites, though she didn’t get many opportunities to wear it these days. Instead, it was tucked safely at the bottom of her jewelry box, hidden amongst the much less valuable baubles that suited her current level of income.

But, heavens above, these designs were beautiful. Not perfect. She could see where the size of one outshone the sapphire at its center. Or how the filigree of another was too dainty for the diamonds it surrounded.

She could fix the sketches with a sharp pencil and a few flicks of her wrist, and her palms itched to do just that.

When she caught herself running her fingers longingly across the glossy surface of one of the photographs, she sucked in a startled breath. How long had she been standing there with a target on her back? All she needed was for Alexander or another maid to walk in and catch her staring at his portfolio as if she was planning a heist.

Slamming the folder shut, she returned it to the bedside drawer and placed the pen back on top in exactly the same position it had been to begin with. She hoped.

With the nightstand put to rights, she finished stretching the fitted sheet over the other two corners of the mattress, then added the top sheet. She needed to get the room cleaned, and the best way to snoop was to search the areas nearest where she was working, anyway.