Park Avenue Scandals

“You can’t possibly be serious about marrying this person.” Her mother posed it as a sentence, not a question.

“I’m more serious about it with every passing second,” Julia assured her, picking up her purse and slipping the slim leather strap over her shoulder.

“Julia, don’t do something you’ll regret,” her father warned.

“I’ve already done that, Father,” Julia told him as she turned to leave. “I came here expecting support. I’m not sure why, exactly, but this visit is definitely something I regret.”

She walked briskly across the room, through the doorway and down the stairs where a maid in uniform waited to open the front door for her. Julia reached the bottom of the steps and turned when her mother called her name sharply.

Margaret Prentice stood at the head of the stairs, looking as cool and unapproachable as a queen. “What is it, Mother?”

“Don’t think for one moment, young woman, that your father and I will acknowledge your marriage to this man. If you do this, you turn your back on your family.”

A small twist of fear became a knot in the pit of her stomach, but then, as she drew one long breath, that knot dissolved. Strange, Julia thought, that it was at the moment her life was most in turmoil that she should find such an incredible sense of peace.

“I understand, Mother. Goodbye.”

The door closed firmly behind her.

By the following day, Julia was too busy to spend much time worrying about her parents. She had a wedding to plan and a move to organize.

“It’s going to be great,” Amanda said as they settled into a couple of armchairs at the Park Café. Reaching into her leather briefcase, Amanda pulled out a thick day planner and quickly scanned her notes. “I know Max wants a fast wedding,” she said with a wink for Julia, “but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fabulous. I’ve got the names of some caterers and I’d like you to look at some samples from the florist I’ve been working with.”

Julia had notes of her own to check and they didn’t have anything to do with her upcoming wedding. She was in the middle of a fund-raiser for a Manhattan shelter, and there were still one or two things that had to be nailed down. “Why don’t you pick the caterer, Amanda? I swear I haven’t had enough of an appetite to even think about food lately.”

Her friend frowned a bit, reached for her ice blended mocha and took a sip. Her gaze fixed on Julia until she squirmed uncomfortably.

“You haven’t been feeling well ever since you went to see your folks,” Amanda said.

“Can you blame me?” Julia forced a smile and told herself she’d be fine. She’d be great. She had her work, she had her baby and soon she’d have her very own husband, complete with prenup, baby contract and suspicion.

“No,” Amanda said, “who can blame you? I’m just saying, the wedding’s coming and you really should pay attention.”

Julia closed her folder, sighed and leaned back into her chair. The café was crowded at lunchtime, and the noise level was such that Julia felt safe enough talking about what was really bothering her. “It’s not the wedding or my parents,” she said, leaning in a bit closer. “It’s the fact that I’m moving in with Max in a few days.”

Amanda laughed. “Honey, you’re marrying him.”

“I know, I know.” Julia frowned and told herself she was being foolish. “But living with him is a little …”

“Exciting?”

“I was going to go with ‘unnerving.’ “

“Why?”

“Because of the way we’re getting married,” she said. “And the fact that he still doesn’t believe me about the baby.”

“Well, he’s an idiot. We already decided that.” Amanda went back to her lists.

“I know, but how’m I supposed to convince him that he is the father?”

“You may not be able to until the baby’s born. Then you can do a paternity test.”

“So that leaves me with seven months of my husband thinking I’m a liar.”

Amanda closed her folder, picked up her mocha and idly twirled the straw through the thick, pale brown liquid. “You know I’m with you, no matter what, right?”

“Of course.”

She smiled. “And you know I’m completely excited that you’re letting me take over your apartment when you move in with Max …”

“I know.”

“But,” Amanda said, leaning forward to pat Julia’s hand, “if you’re really worried about this, don’t do it.”

“What?” Julia glanced across the room when someone laughed too loudly. Then, looking back at Amanda, she said, “I have to.”

“No, you don’t. You’ve already faced the worst part. You’ve told your parents.”

“And the blackmail?” Julia shook her head slowly, despite being grateful for what Amanda was trying to tell her. God knew, after the afternoon with her parents, Julia was even more thankful to have Amanda’s unswerving support. But the simple truth was, she had to marry Max. Otherwise, her child would be the subject of vicious gossip before it was even born. And she wouldn’t allow that. “I appreciate it, sweetie,” Julia said. “But I have to marry Max.”

“Getting married for the wrong reasons is so not a good idea,” Amanda said softly.

“Marriage for any reason isn’t usually a good idea.” A deep voice resonated from just behind Julia and she swiveled to look up at the man staring down at her.

“Hello, Max.”

Six

“Okay,” Amanda said, grabbing her drink and standing up in one smooth move. “That’s my cue to hit the road.”

“You don’t have to go on my account,” Max said, already dropping onto the couch beside Julia.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got lots of calls to make,” Amanda told him, then shifted her gaze to Julia’s. “We’ll talk later at home, okay?”

“Sure, see you later.” Julia watched her friend leave, then turned her head to look at Max, who was studying her carefully.

“Your friend trying to talk you out of this?”

“She’s worried about me.”

“Should she be?” He ran the tips of his fingers down the length of her arm, and even through her linen shirt Julia felt heat, a heat that began to slide through her veins.

“Good question,” she said, and shifted slightly, drawing her arm back and away from him. How could she think when he was touching her?

“Is there an answer?” He eased back, the sides of his black suit jacket falling to either side of him, displaying what she knew to be a rock-solid chest and abdomen hidden beneath the custom-made dress shirt.

She lifted her gaze to his and blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Max, Amanda’s my friend. She’s trying to be supportive, letting me know she’s on my side no matter what.”

“She knows what’s going on?” he asked. “The baby?

The blackmail?”

“Yes.” Julia glanced around the coffee shop, checking to see who was watching them. Who might be listening. She knew darn well that whoever was behind the blackmail had to have overheard her and Max talking about the baby in here. When she looked back to him, though, she let the worry go. The blackmail had already happened. What more could this person do to her? “I told her everything.”

“Including the name of the father of your baby?” he wondered aloud, his gaze narrowing slightly.

“Max …” Irritation spiked inside her and Julia fought the distinct urge to kick him in the shins. Honestly. She’d lived her whole life by the rules. She’d maintained the sophisticated facade that life in society demanded. She’d never stepped out of line, always done just what she should.

And the minute she met Max, all that had disappeared. Not only had she slept with him right away, she’d gotten pregnant. Not only was she being blackmailed, she was marrying a man she hardly knew. Not only was he the father of her child, but she couldn’t make him believe she wasn’t a liar. And now, the well-behaved, always discreet Julia Prentice wanted to kick a man and scream at him in public, and the only thing keeping her from doing just that was what was left of her self-control.

“Wow,” he mused aloud, a barely concealed chuckle in his tone, “you just had quite the talk with yourself, didn’t you?”

“What?”

He sat up, braced his elbows on his knees and locked his gaze with hers. “Your face. It’s so easy to read, it’s ridiculous. You don’t keep secrets well, do you.”

“No, I really don’t,” she muttered, disturbed a little at how easily he could read her. But then she told herself it didn’t matter, since even reading her face so expertly, he didn’t believe what he saw. “I’m not a good liar, Max. That’s why I don’t lie.”

“Uh-huh.” Max would have liked to believe her, but how could he? Those big blue eyes of hers seemed to look right through him, and he wondered what she saw in him. What she’d seen from the beginning that had sent her to him for help when her world had crashed down around her.

He glanced around the café and reassured himself no one was paying the slightest attention to the two of them. Turning back to Julia, he watched her squirm uncomfortably on the couch and read her body language easily enough. She was uneasy in his presence and he thought he knew why.

“You went to see your parents yesterday, didn’t you?”

Her eyes darkened a bit in memory, and Max knew he’d guessed right. He was willing to bet that the elder Prentices hadn’t been happy with their daughter’s news.

“Yes.”

“Told them about the baby?”

“Yes.” She shifted, tugged the hem of her pale blue skirt closer to her knees and crossed her feet daintily at the ankle. As neatly as a nun, she folded her hands together in her lap. “They were … unhappy.”

He laughed shortly. “I’m guessing that’s an understatement.”

She winced. “Pretty much.”

Max didn’t need her to explain what that conversation had been like. He’d met her parents briefly at some social function in the city and hadn’t exactly been impressed with their warmth. In fact, he found it amazing that a woman with the fire Julia had could have come from people so inherently cold.

Oddly enough, looking at her now, seeing the distress that still clouded her eyes at the mention of her parents, Max realized that he’d like nothing better than to go see them. Tell them what he thought of parents who couldn’t bring themselves to support their own child.

“My mother,” Julia said, capturing his attention, “is appalled at the idea of being labeled a grandmother.”

“Her loss,” he said tightly, and was rewarded by a flash of light in her eyes. Wanting to see that spark again, he said, “My mother would have been on cloud nine.”

“Really?”

Max smiled. He didn’t often think of his parents, because memories only made him miss them more. But now he allowed his mother’s smiling image to fill his mind. “Oh, yeah. She used to harp on me all the time about making her a grandmother. She’d have been excited at the prospect.”

Julia’s mouth curved gently, sadly. “I’m sorry she’s not here to know you’re going to be a father.”

Instantly his insides tightened. “We both know that’s not true, though, don’t we?”

“Max, please believe me,” she said, reaching out one hand to him. Her fingers closed around his and in response, he felt heat shoot up the length of his arm and slam into his chest.

And because that sensation was so strong, he battled it back, refusing to be swayed by it. Instead, he squeezed her fingers briefly, then let go. “What’d your folks have to say about the wedding?”

She sighed, clearly understanding that he wanted a change in subject. “Well, that news took their minds off the baby.”

This time, Max’s laugh boomed out into the café and several heads turned to look. Ignoring them, he straightened, leaned in closer to her and said, “Not surprising, is it? The fact that I could buy and sell your father three times over isn’t enough to make up for the lack of a pedigree?”

“Not to them.”

“But you don’t care?” He watched her. He’d know if she lied in her response, and suddenly, he really wanted to know what she thought. He knew she was only marrying him because she felt she had no choice. But he needed to know what she thought of him. What she really felt.

“Of course I don’t,” she said, and he knew instinctively that it was the truth. A glint of anger shone briefly in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on him. “Do you really think I’m that shallow? Do I strike you as someone who cares more about a person’s background than the person himself?”

He studied her for a long moment, taking in the heightened color in her cheeks and the light of battle in her eyes. “No,” he said finally, his voice low and soft, “you don’t.”

“Well, that’s something, anyway,” Julia muttered. “You still think I’m a liar, but at least you don’t believe I’m elitist about it.”

He gave her a quick grin. “See? We’re already getting along great.”

Julia frowned at him.

“They really gave you a bad time, didn’t they?” he asked, his smile fading.

“No more than I was expecting.”

“I’m sorry it was hard on you,” he said, reacting more to the glimmer of pain in her eyes than to anything else.

“Are you?” she asked.

“Of course I am. I’d feel sorry for anyone who’d had to grow up with those two polar bears.”

She stiffened a little and Max admired her instinctive defensive posture. Even though she and her parents weren’t close, it was apparent she wasn’t going to let anyone else speak badly of them.

“They’re not bad people,” she said, and he wondered if she was trying to convince him or herself. “They just never should have had children.”

Again he studied her for a long minute, then said quietly, “I’m glad they did.”

“Really?” She shook her head and gave him a wry smile. “Why would you be glad? You’re marrying a woman you don’t love and agreeing to be the father of a child you don’t believe you created.”

“I’m marrying my lover,” he said, lowering his voice until it was nothing more than a low rumble of sound pitched so only she could hear him. “A woman who sets my body on fire with a glance. And I’m getting the heir I want. Like I said before, a win-win for me.”

“I don’t understand you,” she said, tipping her head to one side as if trying to get a better picture of the man. “You’re taking this so lightly.”

“No, I’m not,” Max assured her, leaning in so close that he felt her breath on his face. “Trust me when I say I’m taking this very seriously.”

“What if we’re miserable together?”

“We won’t be.”

“How do you know?” Her gaze locked with his.

“I’ll just keep you in bed as much as I can. We’ve already proven we get along just fine there.”

“There’s more to a marriage than sex.”

“Sure,” he quipped. “There’s children, too. And we’ve already got that taken care of.”

“Max—”

“Stop trying to make this harder than it has to be,” Max said firmly. He wasn’t going to let her change her mind. Wasn’t going to allow her nerves to stretch to the point where she simply snapped and called everything off.

He’d gone into this with his eyes open, knowing he could help her and himself. And now that they’d reached an agreement, Max could admit that he wanted this marriage. He wanted her in his house. In his bed. There was no way he would let her wriggle out of their bargain.

“I’m not,” she argued. “I guess I just need to know that we’re doing the right thing.”

“Do you have the money for the blackmailer?” he asked flatly.

“No.”

“Do you want to tell your parents that the wedding’s off, but the baby’s still on?”

“No,” she said and slumped back into her seat.

“Then we’re doing the right thing.”

“I wonder,” she said, “is the only thing necessarily the right thing?”

“You’re thinking too much,” he said. “Decision’s been made. Let it go.”

Her gaze locked on his and her expression was even easier to read than usual. Stubborn resignation. Good. At least she was accepting that this wedding was going to happen.

“Look,” Max said abruptly. “I was on my way to a meeting when I walked past the café and saw you sitting in here with Amanda. I only came in to tell you something.” He wasn’t going to let her know that it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. That seeing her had hit him so hard he hadn’t been able to resist coming in to talk to her.

“Fine, then. What is it?”

“My lawyer says he’ll have the papers ready for us to sign tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” She looked a little nervous, and a part of Max was glad to see it. Those few nerves told him that she wasn’t a cold, calculating woman—as if he needed to be convinced. She might be lying to him, but he was willing to bet she hadn’t set any of this in motion on purpose.

Max checked his watch again, then met her gaze. “I’ll pick you up at nine. We can take care of the paperwork and be finished before the movers show up at your place.”

“Oh, I didn’t hire movers yet.”

“It’s already arranged,” Max said. “They’ll be at your place to pack by eleven tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Julia stared at him. “That’s too soon.

I’m not ready, and besides, don’t you think I can handle this myself? I don’t need you to step in and—”

He leaned in and kissed her hard and quick, instantly cutting off her arguments. “No need to thank me,” he said, giving her a grin that let her know he was completely aware of her frustration.

“Max …”

“I’ve got that meeting. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he stood up and walked out, never looking back. Not that he had to. He felt her gaze boring a hole in his back.

Impatient, Julia tapped the toe of her shoe against the cold, marble floor of her lobby while she waited for the ancient elevator to arrive. Irritation with Max’s highhandedness still stung.

“I can take care of myself,” she muttered darkly. “Been doing it for years without any help, thanks very much.”

Then she winced and glanced over her shoulder to make sure the doorman hadn’t heard her. But Henry was oblivious to her presence, chatting away on the telephone at his desk. Good. She didn’t need one more male sticking his nose into her business.

Honestly, did Max really think he could simply arrange her life to suit him? If he did, this temporary marriage was going to get off to a rocky start. She glanced up at the old-fashioned dial on the elevator and saw that it was going up, not coming down. Apparently someone in one of the penthouses had called for it.

Sighing, Julia turned, crossed the lobby and headed for the residents’ mailboxes. Might as well pick up the mail now since she had a few minutes.

“Ms. Prentice!” Henry called.

Inserting the key into her box, Julia opened it, took out the stack of envelopes and mailers, then closed and relocked it before answering. “Yes?”

Sunlight slanted through the glass door and lay in a wide swath on the marble. Henry walked right through the light and stopped a couple of feet from her. “I wanted to tell you, like I told your fiancé …”

Fiancé, she thought, and wondered if she would be used to the sound of that word before she had to become accustomed to the word husband.

“Max? You talked to Max?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said, and bobbed his head nervously. But then, Henry always looked nervous and a little too cowed by the residents of the building. “He asked if I’d seen anyone hanging around the mailboxes and I told him I hadn’t.”

Julia glanced at the mailboxes and tightened her grip on the envelopes she held. Max had thought to question Henry. She hadn’t and she should have, darn it. But in her own defense, she’d been a little too upset by the whole blackmail thing to sit down and rationally investigate it. Still, now that the thought was in her mind …

“Are you sure, Henry?” she asked, staring directly into his eyes until he shifted his gaze from hers. “It wouldn’t have taken long for someone to drop a letter into one of the boxes.”

He shrugged and when the phone at his desk rang, he jumped as if he’d been shot. “I’m sure. It’s my job to watch over this lobby.”

“Yes,” she was saying, but Henry had already turned away, headed back for the phone like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver. “But—”

“721 Park Avenue,” Henry said, cutting her off neatly and devoting himself entirely to whoever was calling.

He kept his back to her and it was obvious to Julia that he had no intention of getting off the phone until she was on the elevator. For whatever reason, Henry didn’t want to talk anymore about what had happened. That didn’t necessarily make him guilty of anything, though, she reminded herself. All it did was underscore just what a nervous type the poor guy really was, and increase the tiny seed of suspicion about him that Max had planted.

Shaking her head, Julia headed back across the lobby, the sound of her heels clicking musically against the floor. The elevator dinged as she approached, the doors slid open and Elizabeth Wellington stepped out and stopped dead.

“Julia,” she said, flashing a smile that wasn’t deep enough to display the dimples in her cheeks.

Instantly, Julia felt a wash of sympathy for her friend. Up until a year or so ago, Elizabeth had been happy and bubbly. Now her green eyes looked sad and her red hair was mussed as if she’d been distractedly running her fingers through it.

“The grapevine in the building works incredibly well,” Elizabeth was saying as she gave Julia another wan smile. “I hear congratulations are in order. Both for your engagement and your baby.”

Julia nearly winced. Now she felt not only sympathy but almost a twinge of guilt, too. She’d been so worried about her unplanned pregnancy, and poor Elizabeth was miserable, dealing with her infertility issues.

“Thank you,” Julia said, and meant it sincerely. She guessed what it cost Elizabeth to be happy for someone else when she so badly wanted a child of her own. Reaching out, she hugged her friend tightly and bit her bottom lip when Elizabeth briefly squeezed her back.

“You must be excited,” the other woman said, forcing happiness into her tone.

“I am,” Julia replied, wishing there was something she could say, something she could do, to make this less painful for Elizabeth. “And a little overwhelmed. It’s all happening so quickly.”

The pretty redhead gave her another wistful smile, then seemed to gather her inner strength while squaring her shoulders. “Enjoy it, Julia. Seriously. Make sure you take the time to enjoy every minute.”

There it was again, that pang of sympathy, and everything in Julia yearned to ease the pain flickering in her friend’s eyes. Some things, though, simply couldn’t be helped by a warm hug or a heartfelt wish. “Elizabeth … would you like to come up for tea?”

“No. No, thanks.” Elizabeth lifted her chin and forced a bright, yet brittle smile. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting a friend for an early dinner and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Sure,” Julia said, realizing that Elizabeth was trying to make a hasty getaway. And who could blame her? “But if you ever need someone to talk to …”

“Thanks. I appreciate it, really. But I’m fine. We’re fine. Reed and I, I mean.” She took a breath, blew it out and said, “Now I’m babbling, so I’m gonna go.” She took a few steps away, then stopped, looked back and said, “Just remember what I said and make sure you relish every minute of this, okay?”

Then, as if she’d said too much, Elizabeth hurried across the lobby and nearly beat Henry to the door in her haste to get outside.

Julia stepped into the elevator and noticed the faint scent of Elizabeth’s perfume still hanging in the air. As the doors swept shut, Julia closed her eyes briefly and wondered where the justice in life was. Elizabeth wanted a child so badly, and the absence of a pregnancy was slowly destroying her happiness. And Julia was marrying a man who didn’t love her because of a surprise pregnancy.

As the elevator lifted, she dropped one hand to her stomach and whispered, “Don’t take it personally, though, little one. I like surprises.”