Baby Bequest

A fierce protective instinct surged up and she pushed past Leeann into the room. In the darkened far corner stood a cot, pretty with lace and a hanging mobile of colorful clowns. Tiny fists waved above the mattress and the crying grew louder.

Heart squeezing, Jenna rushed to the cot.

Leaning over the rail, she carefully scooped the baby out and cradled her close. Meg hiccupped out another cry, but her big blue eyes, wet with tears, opened to gaze into Jenna’s. Did the baby recognize her? Did Meg think she was her mother?

For the most part, Leeann had made Meg unavailable for one reason or another, although she had been uncommonly generous the day of the funeral; Jenna had held her niece right through the service and afterward at the wake. But that day Jenna had been in a different zone, barely functioning. Now, however, she felt the connection between them as if she’d been zapped by lightning—strong, bright and formidable.

Tucking Meg close, Jenna breathed in the scent of powder and felt the deep-rooted knowledge of kinship. “It’s okay, sweetie.” As the crying petered out, she smiled softly down as her throat thickened. “You look so much like your mother.”

Behind her, she sensed Gage’s towering presence, then heard the comforting rumble of his voice near her ear. “And her aunt.”

From the rear of the room, Leeann made her excuse. “I’d just put her down and didn’t want her disturbed. I wasn’t sure you’d understand.”

You’re right, Jenna thought. I don’t.

But she kept those comments to herself. Leeann’s explanation might be embarrassingly lame, but Jenna didn’t want anything upsetting the baby again.

In the absence of a challenge, Leeann went on. “She’s sleeping through the night now. Amy used to speak often about what songs Meg liked to hear, the nightlight she preferred left on. Amy might have told you, too, Jenna…over the phone or in a letter.” Her voice crept closer. “When did you say you were heading back overseas?”

Jenna curled a finger around Meg’s silken cheek. “I’m not.”

She smiled at the baby gripping her finger as well as Leeann’s stunned silence. In the past she’d never gotten the upper hand as far as this woman was concerned. That’s why she’d left home so soon after finishing college. No matter the disagreement—bar two—her father had sided with his new wife. He’d valued their marriage, as he’d valued Jenna’s mother until her death. He’d told his daughter he didn’t want any upsets in the family home, then had asked why she couldn’t simply be polite and get along.

Her father couldn’t understand that Leeann had seen his strong-willed daughter as a threat. When they were alone, Leeann had made it clear there was room for only one mistress in the Darley household. The frosty glares, the subtle yet painful barbs…Having been brought up by a quiet and gentle woman, Jenna hadn’t known how to handle a female relationship based on rivalry. In the end, she’d handled it by throwing up her hands and walking away.

But she wouldn’t walk away from this fight.

“Wasn’t there an assignment,” Leeann stammered, “in Italy? You mentioned it at the funeral…”

Gage blocked Leeann’s progress toward Jenna. “She declined that assignment. Although we have talked about visiting Venice during a brief honeymoon.”

Every inch of Jenna glowed warm. Those words were simply part of an act to get Meg and keep her where she belonged. Yet it seemed like only yesterday that she’d gone to sleep dreaming of sharing a honeymoon with Gage. A young and foolish girl’s dream. She had never featured in his bigger plans.

Now Gage was an important man, and pedal-to-the-metal busy.

Why was he helping her?

Ashen-faced, Leeann navigated around Gage and planted herself before Jenna. “Did I hear right? A honeymoon?”

Gage cupped Jenna’s shoulders and his heat radiated through to her very bones. “When Jenna and I met again, the old sparks fired back up.” He looked down at her and smiled. “We’ve wasted so much time, haven’t we, darling?”

His earlier comments about her hair rose in Jenna’s mind. Finding the emotion she needed, she bit that bullet. “When Gage asked me to marry him, I…I knew it was right.” She turned, steadied herself upon facing the solid heat of Gage’s frame, then placed the baby in his arms.

Strong chin tucking in, he held Meg a little away from his broad chest…until the baby gurgled, then he cocked his head, his mouth curved slightly at one corner, and he brought her close.

A tower of a man holding such a tiny life. The picture made Jenna’s heart beat fast. Gage had no intention of fathering children. As he’d said, he valued his freedom too much and a child needed stability. Still, it was a shame that a man who possessed Gage’s more admirable qualities—leadership, intelligence, vision—would never pass those genes on. This situation with herself and Meg would probably be the closest he would come to fatherhood.

A shiver chased up her spine.

Gage could walk away. But, as young as she was, would Meg grow attached?

Would her Aunt Jenna?

Although Leeann was inches shorter than her step-daughter, she managed to look down her long nose at her. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Jenna.”

Gage directed his smile and attention toward Meg but spoke to Leeann. “That’s where we’re headed next.”

Clearly agitated, Leeann patted her chignon again then moved to pry the baby from Gage’s arms. “Then I suppose you’d best be on your way.”

The baby squirmed, but Leeann propped Meg upright against her shoulder, facing her away from the couple she was obviously seeing more clearly as a threat. When Meg mewled, Leeann rubbed the back of her pink playsuit a little too vigorously. The truly tragic part was that Jenna knew how genuinely Leeann wanted to keep the baby, too. Leeann thought Meg could fill that empty place inside of her—the part that hadn’t received or learned how to love. If Jenna hadn’t experienced Leeann’s narcissism firsthand growing up, she might even feel sorry for her.

“You’ll both be living in Melbourne?” Leeann asked, her eyes assessing the two of them.

Jenna’s mind went blank. Now that she was back, she had no intention of leaving Sydney again; this had been Amy’s home. It would be Meg’s home too. But Leeann would be aware that Gage’s headquarters were down south.

As if reading her thoughts, Gage came up with the perfect response. “Jenna would like to stay in Sydney, and I already had plans to relocate my head office here.”

His arms circled Jenna’s waist and brought her closer. As he smiled down into her eyes, her heartbeat tripped over itself. He was so convincing. She had to remind herself that these simmering looks were merely for show.

Leeann cleared her throat; their display obviously irritated her. “I read in this morning’s business section that you were wrapping up a secret negotiation.” The baby whimpered and Leeann began to jiggle her. “I’d have thought your time would be needed in Melbourne twenty-four seven.”

When the baby cried, Leeann shh’ed louder and jiggled faster, and Jenna’s paper-thin patience tore down the middle.

She couldn’t do it. Legal guardian or not, how could she leave Amy’s baby here even one minute longer?

She was about to lever Meg from Leeann’s arms when a young woman rushed into the room.

“I’ll take her if you’d like, Mrs. Darley.”

The woman’s glasses sat crookedly above the bump of her nose, but her bearing, as she held out her hands for the baby, was firm and confident. Although she didn’t want to, Jenna took a step back and let the woman—Meg’s nanny, she presumed—take her niece.

Behind small oval lenses, the younger woman’s large dark eyes appraised her, but Jenna couldn’t quite decide whether it was with approval or mistrust.

“You must be Meg’s aunt.” The nanny smiled down at the quieting baby and tickled her chin. “I can see the resemblance.” She turned to Leeann. “I had trouble finding the right formula. I’ll make a bottle then put her back to sleep.”

Leeann’s chest expanded with a shuddering breath as she set a hand to the bodice of her raw silk jacket and visibly composed herself. “Thank you, Tina. We’ll leave you both alone. My guests were about to leave.”

Gage drew a card from his jacket’s top pocket. “My lawyer’s number.” His grin was cold. “In case you need to contact us.”

Traveling down in the lift a moment later, Jenna couldn’t stop quaking. She crossed her arms, raised a fist, and tried to find a finger with any nail left to bite. She hadn’t chewed her nails since ninth grade when Amy had bought a DIY French tip set to help her quit the habit. Amy had said there was no excuse for biting nails…she had to be strong…had to take it one day at a time…

Tears thickened in her throat.

Meg crying, the nanny’s judgmental gaze, Leeann pushing them out…She should have taken her father’s bonsai and smashed it against the window of that damn million-dollar view! Or better yet, she should have brought it back home where it belonged.

She closed her eyes.

Oh, Meg…

Gage wound an arm around her bent shoulders and brought her close. But the swelling bank of tears only rose higher. He felt so strong and sturdy, a pillar she could lean on. Lord in heaven, she needed that so much.

Releasing a breath, she relented and buried her face against a chest carved from warm granite.

“This is so wrong,” she groaned against his lapels. “Meg doesn’t belong there.”

Gage’s large hand stroked her hair.

The sheer strength of him…the smell. How easy it would be to forget the past and believe this incredible man truly wanted to marry her, and not merely for pragmatism’s sake.

Her hands curled, fisting in his jacket.

Oh, I really am in a bad way, she thought.

As the doors parted, he gently drew her away and gazed deeply into her eyes, reassuring her. “The nanny seems nice.”

Wishing away the hollow ache in her chest, Jenna accepted the handkerchief he offered and dabbed her wet eyes; she could imagine the puffy smudges partially covering her hideous dark circles. God, she needed sleep.

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