The Billionaire's Secret Baby

“How intelligent of you to plan ahead, Meg.”

“Last but not least, there is one other matter that needs to be discussed. Please listen carefully, Jack, because I will say this only once. We will not be sleeping together. If I discover that you have been less than discreet with any of your affairs, I will file for divorce and take you for every penny I can get. You won’t be allowed to taint my life or the life of my child with scandal or your less-than-savory reputation. Is that understood?”

“But, Meg, I’ve spent thousands of hours in backbreaking labor to establish that reputation. You can’t seriously believe I would abandon it so easily.”

“This isn’t a joke. I will not allow you to treat me or anything I say as less than important. I have told you I will tolerate some of your habits. Disrespect is not one of them.”

“The matter of my sexual habits is hardly a joking matter. Neither are yours, especially if you are going to be my wife.”

“I think I have made my position clear. If you wish to pretend you don’t understand what my reaction will be should you ever darken my bedroom door, that is your problem, not mine.” Meg tucked her purse under her arm. “You’ve been to my house. If you need my phone number, Amanda and Bram have it. You may also find it under the listing for Allen Betz.” She reached around him to open the door.

His hand closed around her wrist. “Your conditions are not acceptable to me, Meg.”

She didn’t flinch. “My conditions are not negotiable. You made your proposal, I made mine. It meets the requirements you presented to me. If you want to go back on your word, I can’t stop you. But you should know that if you do make that choice, the offer I made today is null and void, and I will opt for a public custody battle.”

“If you do, Katie’s picture will be plastered on the front page of every newspaper in the country.”

“It would be devastating, I agree. Having her exposed as a Tarkenton, particularly an illegitimate Tarkenton, is not something I wish to contemplate. But the truth is preferable to having you dictate how my child and I will live our lives. Though Katie will be enormously confused should joint custody be granted, I will not be blackmailed. And when Katie is old enough, she will know exactly who and what her father is. To paraphrase your words to me, her best interests must always be kept in mind.”

She jerked the door open. Jack let her pass and tracked her march across the gym, seeing determination in every stride.

He could stop her, he knew. He could blow her cover and have it out here, in full public view. With the lunch crowd filtering in, there were plenty of witnesses to create a huge scene. Then the tabloids would pick it up and the talk shows and the networks, and in the end, she’d be forced to name him as Katie’s father. But that wouldn’t give him much satisfaction, nor much pleasure, either. Not where the Widow Betz was concerned.

She’d just drawn a line in the sand. Separate bedrooms, separate lives. If he was going to sacrifice his long-standing bachelorhood, he wasn’t sacrificing everything that went along with it. With his daughter came his wife. A wife in every sense of the word.

Meg might need some artful persuasion, but he’d made artful persuasion his career in life. She’d fallen for him once. She would fall for him again.

Katie was one challenge, her mother another. Playing with Meg was getting more and more interesting.

And a helluva lot more fun.

Three

“This is an ambush.”

Seized from behind by a very large man, Meg burst out laughing. In front of her, the day-care receptionist’s eyes widened, and Meg knew she wasn’t the only one to recognize her brother, Bram Masterson, otherwise known professionally as the Beastmaster.

Katie came running across the playroom, where she’d gone to retrieve her coat. “Mommy, Mommy, it’s Uncle Bram!”

“How’s my favorite girl?” Bram asked, picking Katie up in mid-flight and tossing her above his head.

Katie giggled in answer. Catching her, Bram set her in the crook of his thickly muscled arm. Meg marveled at his easy strength. All three of her brothers were good-size men, but Bram had the bigness and brawn of a professional athlete. Which he was. His opponents might have monikers like the Bulkster and Six Billion Dollar Man, but what he did inside a pro wrestling ring made him one of the biggest stars of pay-per-view television.

“It’s the Beastmaster!” a little boy cried.

Swarmed by a dozen preschoolers, Bram got down on his knees, wrestling with them, pretending to let them take him down. His gentleness was as great as his size, and seeing Katie jump on top of him made Meg smile in genuine delight, something she hadn’t done in weeks.

“I see Katie’s been captured. How about you?”

At the sound of Jack’s voice, Meg’s smile abruptly died, while the poor receptionist went absolutely boggle-eyed. The Beastmaster was small potatoes compared to the unique and elite celebrity who represented the American version of royalty, the Tarkentons.

“Why, hello, Jack,” Meg said evenly. “This is a surprise.”

“A pleasant one, I trust.”

Unlike her brother, Jack was dressed one step above casual, one step into serious chic. The sienna shirt had no collar and probably no label, either, it fit so well. His sand beige linen jacket also looked custom-made. As an expert in the art of textiles; she certainly recognized the fabric. Woven in Damascus by hand, it was among the costliest in the world. She raised an eyebrow. “How long has it been since we last saw each other? Surely no more than a couple of days.”

“Meg, being apart from you for one day is like a year for me. I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Meg wagged her finger at him, all too aware of the boggle-eyed receptionist. “Now, Jack. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about us. Especially my big brother.”

“That’s why I brought him along. We’re going to kidnap you.”

“Really? Is that the plan?” Meg looked to Bram as he extricated himself from the pack of preschoolers.

“I told you this was an ambush,” Bram said, helping Katie put on her coat. “Amanda is in town, and J.J. and I drove down from Bedford to meet her. We’ll be staying at Jack’s apartment for a couple of days and hoped you’d join us for dinner. Katie, do you remember J.J.’s uncle Jack? He’s your Aunt Amanda’s little brother.”

Katie looked up at Jack with solemn eyes. “You’re not little.”

“But I can be.” Jack crouched and completed the introductions by matching Katie’s solemnity and formally offering to shake her hand. Katie gave it after the slightest hesitation.

Meg searched her brother’s face. Was he somehow in cahoots with Jack? “Why isn’t Amanda in D.C.? I thought Congress was in session this week.”

“Now that she’s on the Foreign Relations Committee, she has to come to New York periodically for meetings at the UN. She ended up staying late last night and doesn’t have to be back at the Capitol until Monday. I won’t be on the road until next weekend, so J.J. and I drove up to see her.”

“How about it, Katie?” Jack asked. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and see J.J.?”

“Can I, Mommy?”

That clinched it for Meg. Not only was he making mincemeat of the conditions she’d set, he was using Katie to do it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we need to go straight home tonight. Maybe some other time.”

Bram held the door open for them. “Amanda and I get so few opportunities to see the two of you, Meg. What’s the rush?”

“There’s no rush. I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”

“You don’t want to make it longer by riding a commuter bus back to Jersey with Katie on your lap,” countered Bram. “Jack keeps a car here in town. I’ll drive you home after the traffic dies down.”

“Or you and Katie are welcome to spend the night at my place,” Jack offered. “I’ll drive you home tomorrow myself. How’s that for service?”

“Spending the night is definitely out,” Meg retorted flatly.

Bram put a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Come on, honey. Have dinner with us. Put your feet up for a while, say hello to Amanda and J.J., and give yourself a little R and R.”

“Please, Mommy?” Katie asked, tugging Meg’s hand. “I want to play with J.J.”

Meg glanced pointedly at Jack. “We can’t stay very long. I want to make that clear.”

Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, Meg.”

Whatever you say, my eye. Meg faced her brother. “Katie and I will need to leave right after dinner.”

“No problem,” replied Bram. “I’ll have you home in record time.”

It turned out Jack lived in Midtown, only a few blocks away. Judging by the historic stonework on his apartment building, it dated back to the turn of the century and had been restored to its original grandeur. A doorman jumped to usher “Mr. Tarkenton and his guests” inside. The security guard monitoring the lobby treated him with unusual familiarity, greeting both Jack and Bram by name.

The old-fashioned cage of an elevator was manned by a uniformed operator. She asked if Katie wanted to help pull the lever that closed the fancy ironwork doors. Of course, Katie did, and when Jack pointed at the floor numbers above the elevator doors, she counted up with him in unison.

Studying his profile, Meg tried to assess his motives. She hadn’t expected him to barge into her life again this soon. Clearly he was trying to get to Katie. Clearly he wasn’t above using Bram, Amanda and J.J. to do it. But why now?

The elevator doors clanged open, revealing a living room so large, the main floor of her house could have fit inside it. His so-called apartment took up the entire penthouse floor.

“Katie!”

Three-year-old J.J. catapulted from his seat on the thick dove gray carpet. Amanda rescued the playing cards that scattered in his wake and rose herself, barefoot in blue jeans and a fuzzy mohair sweater that gave her a girlish air despite the classic French twist of her blond hair. “Meg,” she said, extending her hands. “I’m so glad you and Katie could make it.”

Smiling, Meg caught those hands, and they kissed each other cheek to cheek, as the French did, engendering a nostalgic pang for the culture of her beloved France.

Amanda scooped Katie up. “My goodness, Miss Katie. When did you start getting so grown-up?”

J.J. excitedly jumped up and down, tugging on Katie’s dress. “Katie, Katie, Katie,” he chanted.

“Hey, sport, how about we give our special guests a chance to come inside.” Jack zoomed J.J. across the room as if he were an airplane.

It didn’t appear to be put on for her benefit, but Meg still suspected Jack’s motives. If nothing else, this visit would allow her to see how he handled the children.

His decorative tastes ran toward the traditional, for the apartment was furnished in the same style as his Wall Street office. Mahogany and cherry wood predominated, with upholstered pieces in cream or gold brocade. Glazed lemon yellow, the walls were trimmed by white molding that framed tall windows filmy with sheer drapes.

Amanda led the way to a pair of overstuffed sofas and invited Meg to sit down. The butler’s table between them was covered by a thick towel, heaped high with toy cars and trucks. “Nice child-proofing,” Meg noted.

“Isn’t it, though? Fortunately, Jack doesn’t mind. J.J., would you like to show Katie your cars?”

J.J. came running. “My cars!”

Bram slowed him, saving a collision with the table, and gathered up the ends of the towel, sacking the toys. “I think the children and I will retire to the entertainment room,” he said, exchanging amused looks with his wife. “If I’m not mistaken, a certain purple dinosaur is making an appearance on our favorite television channel.”

Amanda clasped her hands and put them over her heart. “You have earned my eternal gratitude, dear husband. Let me know when reinforcements are required.”

Seeing their obvious love and affection for each other brought a lump to Meg’s throat. She had never met a woman more secure with who she was and what she wanted than Amanda. Her brother was just as headstrong. Yet they served as perfect foils for each other, sharing a partnership so strong, Meg had to look away.

Her gaze touched on Jack, with his inscrutable expression and idle stance. If she did marry him, it would be at the cost of such happiness. At least when she married Allen, she had been operating under the youthful delusion that given time, she would come to love her husband. She knew better now.

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