The Tycoon's Secret Daughter

His voice was perfectly controlled as he said, “I don’t think you’re in a position to dictate terms.”

“I think I am.”

“And I have two lawyers who say you aren’t.”

Her eyes widened with incredulity. “You’ve already called your lawyers?”

“A smart businessman knows when he needs advice.”

“So you think you’re going to ride roughshod over me with lawyers?”

“I think I’m going to do what I have to do.”

She shook her head. “Do you want me to leave tomorrow? Do you want me to hide so far away and so deeply that you’ll never, ever see your daughter?”

Control be damned. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m protecting my daughter. We play by my rules or no rules at all. I won’t put Trisha at risk.”

“Risk? You have no reason to fear for her. I never hurt you!”

“No, you just smashed TVs and broke windows. You were escalating, Max, and you scared me.”

Guilt pummeled him enough that he scrubbed his hand over his mouth to give himself a few seconds to collect himself. Finally he said, “You could have talked to me.”

Her face scrunched in disbelief. “Really? Talk to a guy so drunk he could barely stand? And how was that supposed to work?”

“I might have come home drunk, but I was sober every morning.”

“And hungover.”

He sighed. “No matter how I felt, I would have listened to you.”

“That’s not how I remember it. I remember living with a man who was either stone-cold drunk or hungover. Three years of silence or lies and broken promises. Three years of living with a man who barely noticed I was there. I won’t sit back and watch our little girl stare out the window waiting for you the way I used to. Or lie in bed worrying that you’d wrecked your car because you were too drunk to drive and too stubborn to admit it. Or spend the day alone, waiting for you to wake up because you’d been out all night.”

Fury rattled through him. “I’m sober now!”

“I see that. And I honestly hope it lasts. But even you can’t tell me with absolute certainty that it will. And since you can’t, I stand between you and Trisha. I protect her. She will not go through what I went through.”

Her voice wobbled, and the anger that had been pulsing through his brain, feeding his replies, stopped dead in its tracks. She wasn’t just mad at him. She was still hurting.

She rose and paced to his desk. “Do you know what it’s like to live with someone who tells you they love you but then doesn’t have ten minutes in a day for you?”

Max went stock-still. This was usually what happened when he apologized. The person he’d wronged had a grievance. It had been so long since he’d had one of these sessions that he’d forgotten. But when Kate turned, her green eyes wary, her voice soft, filled with repressed pain, remorse flooded him. She had a right to be angry.

“I’ll tell you what it’s like. It’s painful, but most of all it’s bone-shatteringly lonely.”

Guilt tightened his stomach. He’d always known he’d hurt her, but he’d never been sober enough to hear the pain in her voice, see it shimmer in her eyes.

And she wanted to save Trisha from that. So did he. But the way he’d protect her would be to stay sober. “I won’t hurt her.”

“You know, you always told me the same thing. That you wouldn’t hurt me. But you did. Every day.” Her voice softened to a faint whisper. “Every damned day.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“Right.”

Righteous indignation rose up in him. He hated his past as much as she hated his past. But this time she wasn’t innocent.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’d have gotten sober sooner if I’d known I was having a child? Did you ever stop to think that if you’d stayed, I might have turned around an entire year sooner?”

“No.” She caught his gaze. “You loved me, Max. I always knew it. But I wasn’t a good enough reason for you to get sober. I wasn’t taking a chance with our child.”

“You could have at least told me you were pregnant before you left.”

“And have you show up drunk at the hospital while I was struggling through labor? Or drunk on Christmas Day to ruin Trisha’s first holiday? Or maybe have you stagger into her dance recital so she could be embarrassed in front of her friends?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

The picture she painted shamed him. Things he’d done drunk now embarrassed him as much as they had his friends and family. And he suddenly understood. Making amends with Kate wouldn’t be as simple as saying he was sorry. He was going to have to prove himself to her.

He blew his breath out on a sigh, accepted it, because accepting who he was, who he had been, was part of his recovery. “So maybe it would be good for you to be around when I see her.”

Her reply was soft, solemn. “Maybe it would.”

“Can I come over tonight and meet her?”

“I was thinking tomorrow afternoon might be a better idea. I take my mom to the hospital every day, but lately Trisha’s been bored. So I thought I’d start bringing her home in the afternoon.”

“And I can come over?”

“Yes. Until my dad is released from the hospital, we’ll have some privacy.”

With that she turned and headed for the elevator. Prickling with guilt, he leaned back on the sofa. But when the elevator doors swished closed behind her, he thought about how different things might have been if she’d told him about her pregnancy, and his anger returned. She hadn’t given him a chance to try to sober up. She hadn’t even given him a chance to be a dad.

Still, could he blame her?

A tiny voice deep down inside him said yes. He could blame her. He might see her perspective, but he’d also had a right to know his child.

He rose from the sofa and headed for his desk again. That’s exactly what his father had told him the night he’d confronted him about being his adopted brother Chance’s biological father. About bringing his illegitimate son into their home with a lie. A sham. An adoption used to cover an affair.

I had a right to know my child.

He ran his hand across his forehead as nerves and more anger surged through him. He hadn’t thought about that part of his life in years. His brother had run away the night Max had confronted their dad. Which was part of why Max drank. At AA he’d learned to put those troubles behind him, but now, suddenly, here he was again, wondering. Missing his brother with a great ache that gnawed at his belly. Because Kate was home and Kate was part of that time in his life.

Losing Chance might have been the event that pushed him over the edge with his alcoholism, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t been for seven long years. He only hoped seeing Kate, fighting with Kate, meeting a daughter he hadn’t known he had, didn’t tempt that guy out of hiding.

He grabbed his cell phone from his desk and hit the speed-dial number for his sponsor.

CHAPTER TWO

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Max left the office at noon and raced home to put on jeans and a T-shirt. Something more comfortable, more casual, than a black suit and white shirt, so he didn’t intimidate his daughter. Or Kate.

Like it or not, he had things to make up to her. His sponsor, Joe Zubek, had reminded him of that. He had to take responsibility for everything he’d done while drunk, and he’d hurt Kate—mistreated her enough that she didn’t want their daughter to suffer the same fate.

He had to take responsibility.

He chose the Range Rover over the Mercedes and drove past the expensive houses and estates in the lush part of the city in which he lived. Once off the hill, he headed across the bridge, through Pine Ward’s business district to the blue-collar section of town where little Cape Cods mixed and mingled with older two-story homes and a few newer ranch houses.

He made three turns to get to Elm Street and there it was. The redbrick, two-story house he’d loved. Not just because Kate had lived there, but because it had a wide front porch and a swing.

He stopped his vehicle and simply stared at the porch, the swing. He couldn’t count the number of times he and Kate had made out on that swing.

His eyes drifted shut at the memory. She’d been eighteen to his twenty-four. Not necessarily a huge age difference but Kate had been sheltered. So he’d had to go slow with her, be cautious. But when they’d finally made love—in a room sprinkled with rose petals and filled with soft candlelight—oh, Lord. He’d known—he’d absolutely known—she was the only woman in the world for him. They were together for nine years. Four years of dating until she graduated university, and five years of marriage. When she’d left him, he’d missed her so much he sometimes thought his heart would wither and die.

And now she was back.

He popped open his eyes and yanked the key from the Rover’s ignition. It didn’t matter. He’d screwed up their relationship permanently and there was no going back. Besides, his current time with Kate wouldn’t be about them. It would be about their daughter. And he wouldn’t lose the chance to know Trisha by foolishly wanting to rekindle a romance that was dead. He’d killed it. He had to remember that.

He strode up the sidewalk and across the plank porch without as much as a glance in the direction of the swing.

When he rang the bell, Kate instantly opened the door, as if she’d been waiting for him. Wearing a short white shirt that didn’t quite reach her low-riding jeans, with bare feet and toe-nails painted a bright blue, she looked closer to twenty than thirty-five. Her thick dark hair swirled around her.

His racing heart stuttered. She wasn’t what anyone would call conventionally beautiful, but she had an innate sexuality that stopped most men in their tracks. Including him. After his thoughts in the car, thoughts of making out on a porch swing and making love to her in a hotel room filled with candles, he couldn’t keep his gaze from taking a second trip down her trim body to her sexy toes and back up again.

He had to swallow before he could say, “Hey.”

“Come in, Max.”

He stepped inside the simple foyer. Pale beige floor tiles led to hardwood floors in both the dining room on the right and the living room on the left.

She motioned to the peach-and-beige sofa and matching chairs—the same furniture that had been in the room when they were married. “Let’s sit.”

As he turned to go into the living room, he caught a glimpse of Trisha peeking out of the kitchen. She smiled shyly at him. His heart began to thrum in his chest. She had Kate’s pretty pixie face, his blue eyes. She was an adorable little image of both of them.

Kate also saw Trisha and she laughed. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t be shy. Come into the living room with Mommy.” Then she walked to the sofa, motioning for him to sit on one of the two club chairs across from her.

Trisha entered slowly, shyly, sidling up beside the arm of the sofa where her mom sat, as Max lowered himself to a club chair.

Kate didn’t waste any time. “Trisha, this is the man I told you about.” She paused just for a second. “Your father.”

Trisha glanced at the floor. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He’d never felt so much so fast. Fear and wonder filled him simultaneously, along with a fresh burst of anger. He was clumsy right now, tongued-tied with his own child because Kate had kept her from him. “I … um … it’s nice to meet you.”

Trish nodded.

Kate said, “Trisha will be starting second grade in the fall.”

“Second grade,” Max repeated, his tongue thick, his brain a ball of melting wax. Thoughts beeped in his head like neon signs. Had Kate stayed, he’d know his little girl. He might have seen her birth. He might have gotten sober sooner—

They might still be married.

He sucked in a breath. Told himself to stop those thoughts. All of them. He had to take responsibility. “That’s … I remember having fun in second grade.”

She peeked up at him. “I had fun in first grade.”

“Trisha’s a very good student. Her teachers love her.”

Trisha smiled again, this time revealing two missing front teeth.

His heart skipped a beat. A laugh bubbled to his chest. She was so damned cute.

“Teachers always like the kids who get good grades.”

Kate’s mom entered the room carrying a tray, surprising Max. He’d thought they were supposed to be alone…. Then he understood. Kate didn’t trust him enough to be alone with him.

Bev smiled brightly. Too brightly. “I have lemonade and cookies if anybody’s interested.”

Trish reached for a cookie even before Bev had the tray on the table.

Kate laughed. “Where are your manners? Your dad’s a guest in our house. We offer him a cookie first.”

Trisha reluctantly brought her hand back and caught his gaze. “Do you want a cookie?”

Max’s chest tightened. He had a daughter he didn’t know, a little girl who, right now, was probably as uncomfortable with him as he was with her, and a shivering ex-mother-in-law, trying to pretend everything was okay. All because Kate had kept them apart. And why? Because she was afraid? He’d never physically hurt her. Never.

He struggled with the urge to shout an obscenity and then struggled not to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. He couldn’t think like this. He wasn’t allowed. He had to take responsibility for his actions. He couldn’t blame someone else.

He forced a smile for Trisha. “Sure. Yeah. I’d love a cookie.”

Bev offered the plate to him. He took one of the fat chocolate chip cookies. Nobody spoke.

After a few bites, Trisha broke the silence. “Do you like the cookie?”

This time his smile wasn’t forced. When he looked at her sweet face, he just wanted to hug her. He longed to put his arms around her and feel his own child in his arms.

“Yes. I like the cookie very much.” He cleared his throat, reminded himself to stay in the moment. If he was here for Trisha, he would be here for Trisha. Really here. “So what about your friends? Do you have lots of friends?”

“Sunny and Jeffrey.”

His gaze shot to Kate’s. “Her best friends are boys?”

Trisha giggled. The sound skipped along his nerve endings, warming his heart, filling him with awe. This was his daughter. His baby girl. If he wanted to be in her life, he couldn’t dwell in the past. He had to live in today. This minute.

“Sunny’s a girl.”

“Oh, I was thinking Sonny.”

She frowned.

He smiled. “Never mind. What’s your favorite game? Do you play T-ball? Little League?”

Confused by his question, Trisha glanced at her mom who said, “Those are sports.”

She faced him again with a big toothless grin. “No.”

Kate rose. “Do we want to do something?”

He glanced up at her.

She motioned with her hand. “So we have something to do other than trying to think of something to say.”

He looked at Trisha. “What would you like to do?”

She glanced down shyly. Kate stooped in front of her. “Why don’t you take your dad to the family room and have a tea party?”

Excitement filled her eyes. She nodded and led him down the hall, into a family room that was neat as a pin except for toys littering the brown tweed sofa and chair. A red plastic child-sized table sat in the center of the room. Dolls and stuffed animals sat on the yellow, blue and green chairs surrounding it.

Trisha plucked the toys from their seats and tossed them to the sofa before she pointed at one of the chairs. “You sit here.”

He peered down at the little plastic chair.

But before he could say anything, Kate said, “Maybe Daddy’s too big for a chair?”

That blasted, unwanted anger surged in Max again. “You don’t need to answer for me. You’ve made enough of my decisions to last a lifetime.”

Kate faced him, eyebrows arched as if asking if he really wanted to get into that fight now, and he immediately regretted saying anything. Especially in front of Trisha.

He backpedaled. “It’s just that the chair looks sturdy enough.” And he could also keep his weight shifted in such a way he wouldn’t put too much stress on it. He smiled at Trisha. “It’s fine.” And back at Kate. “I’ll be fine.”

Carefully, he lowered himself to the colorful chair and sighed gratefully when it held his weight. Though his knees were taller than the table and he felt like a giant, he was seated.

Trisha held out her teapot to her mom. “Can we have some tea?”

Kate took the pot. “Sure. I’ll get you some more cookies too.”

While she was gone, Trisha kept her attention on arranging little cups and saucers. “This is my snack.”

“Your snack?”

She almost looked at him. “My afternoon snack.”

“Oh.” He got it now. “So you’re not getting extra cookies.”

She glanced up. Actually looked at him this time. “Too much sugar isn’t good for me.”

He laughed, recognizing she’d probably repeated verbatim what she’d been told by her mom.

He made himself a little more comfortable on the chair. Trisha finally sat. Thirty seconds went by with neither of them saying a word. Panic filled him, along with the fear of total inadequacy. How did a man parent a child he was only now meeting?

Kate walked into the room carrying the teapot and a small plate with three cookies. She’d tucked her dark hair behind her ears, revealing the slim column of her throat. His gaze fell from her throat to her T-shirt, which perfectly outlined her breasts, to the trim line of her tummy exposed above the waistband of her jeans. His breath stuttered. His attraction to her sprang up like a lion that had been lying in wait in the African bush, confusing him. How could he be so damned attracted to a woman he was so damned angry with?

“One cookie for you. Two for your dad.”

Trisha sighed. “Because he’s bigger.”

“Exactly.”

She offered the plate of cookies to him, standing close enough that he could smell her cologne.

Telling himself he’d better get accustomed to being around her or he’d drive himself crazy, he took a cookie from the tray. “No cookie for you?”

She walked away and began gathering the toys from the sofa. “Not hungry. Besides, this isn’t my party. It’s yours. With your daughter. Enjoy it.”

Panic swamped him again. Unwanted attraction be damned. He needed Kate and she was deserting him.

Trisha poured the “tea.” Wary of the cleanliness of the plastic cup and whatever was inside, he cast Kate a questioning look. “Am I allowed to ask when these little cups were last washed?”

She laughed lightly. “We wash the tea set every time she uses it. It’s clean.”

Still cautious, he took a sip and discovered the drink was actually a grape punch of some sort. Dark enough to look like tea, but not really tea. “It’s good.”

“It’s the queen’s favorite.”

He glanced at Trisha. “The queen?”

Trisha pointed to an empty chair. “The queen comes to everyone’s tea parties.”

So out of his element he had no clue what to say or do, he again looked to Kate. But she was busy gathering toys. Either not paying attention or deliberately forcing him to figure out something to say. With her arms full, he expected her to walk to a toy box, but there was no box. Instead, she stacked the toys in an empty corner.

It suddenly occurred to him that she lived somewhere else. Somewhere so far away they’d never even accidentally bumped into each other. And she didn’t visit. So how did Trisha have toys here?

He knocked on the plastic table. “Are these new?”

Kate said, “Bought them our second day here. Trisha and I both needed a distraction.”

Remembering her dad’s stroke, sorrow unexpectedly swamped him. “I … um … I really am sorry about your dad.”

“He’ll be fine, but no one’s sure how long he’ll be in the hospital.” She reached for another toy. “So I took a three-month leave of absence so we can be here for Mom. That’s a long time to be away from home, and a little girl’s gotta be entertained, so we bought some stuff.”

He blinked, taking all that in. “You’ll be here three months?”

She picked up another toy. “Yep.”

They’d be here three months. He had time. Blessed, blessed time. But he also understood why Kate believed Trisha would need to be entertained. And maybe that could be his avenue to getting visits alone with her. If he could take her while Kate was busy with her father, he could be a savior of sorts, not an interruption.

“You know, if there’s ever a time when you can’t take her with you to the hospital or whatever, I’d be happy to clear my schedule and babysit.”

She peered at him. “Thanks. But we already agreed that I’d be with you when you visited Trisha.”

He should have known that wouldn’t work. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something to prove he would be there for them. “Is there anything else she needs?”

Kate turned. “She’s right there in front of you. Ask her.”

Annoyance skittered through him. He was trying to be nice and she was snippy? If he was inept in this situation, it was her fault. But he kept his cool, reminded himself that he had to take the blame for Kate’s distrust and be patient. No matter how unfair it seemed to him, he still had to play by her rules.

He faced Trisha. “Is there anything you need?”

“A pony.”

Kate laughed. He shot her a look, but turned back to Trisha. Though he was brand-new at being a daddy, he wasn’t a stranger to dealing with people, negotiating, pointing out the obvious. Until he knew how to be a daddy, he’d simply use the skills he had. “There’s no barn here for a pony.”

“That’s what my mom says.”

“So is there anything you need aside from a pony?” A thought hit him and he quickly added, “Or an elephant or a snake or any other living thing.”

She giggled. “I don’t want an elephant.”

Thinking back to his brother Chance, he picked up his cup to sip again and said, “Some kids do.”

Kate had to stifle a spontaneous laugh, but just as quickly guilt pummeled her. He wouldn’t be feeling his way around parenting right now if she hadn’t left.

But he was doing okay, and the more he visited, the better he’d be. Her staying here three months would give him plenty of time to learn how to be a daddy. Especially if he visited a few times a week.

She almost groaned. Good God. A few times a week? If she insisted on being part of every visit—and she already had—she was about to spend the better part of three months with her ex-husband.

Trisha began to pretend to feed her bear. Max glanced back at Kate, then rose from his little plastic chair and walked over to her.

“I’m not sure what the protocol is here, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Though it killed her, she politely said, “You’re fine. We don’t have to be at the hospital until seven.”

“I know, but it’s just that we had a nice visit and I don’t want to spoil it by boring her.”

Familiar fear spiraled through her. “You’re ditching her?”

“Not ditching. Keeping her from disliking me because I bore her.”

She fought the instinctive anger that rose in her—remnants of the insult of always being left alone while he drank with his friends—and forced herself to be logical, not emotional. Their visit had been good, albeit short. Nice, short visits would get Trisha accustomed to him. And get him accustomed to Trisha without pushing either one of them.

“Okay.” Eager to get away from him, she walked over to the table and tapped on it to get Trisha’s attention. “Your dad is leaving now.” She picked up the teapot. “Say goodbye.”

Trisha gave him her toothless grin. “Bye.”

As goodbyes went, that left a lot to be desired. Seeing the confused look on Max’s face, Kate sucked in a breath and did what she had to do. “Give your dad a hug.”

Trisha got up from her chair and went to her father. She wrapped her arms around his legs, squeezed quickly and pulled back. “Bye.”

He closed his eyes, savoring the hug, then stooped down beside her and took her into his arms. Guilt tightened Kate’s stomach, but realism knocked it out of position. He might be a nice guy now—might—she suspected all this good behavior could be an act—but he’d ruined their marriage with his drinking. He’d forced her away. And she’d take Trisha away from him again in a heartbeat if he started drinking.