Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(12)

“Wait,” he said, reaching out a hand and taking a step forward before halting in his tracks. What was he doing? Why had he stopped her?

Because he wasn’t yet ready to lose sight of his son. Or to be distracted from the reality that he was suddenly a father. A father. A fact that part of him still couldn’t seem to comprehend.

“Can I hold him?” he asked.

She looked down at the child sleeping in her arms, indecision clear on her face.

“If it won’t wake him,” he added as an afterthought.

Lifting her head, Vanessa met his gaze. It wasn’t fear of waking the baby that caused her hesitation, he realized—it was her fear of having him near their son, of sharing a child who had been hers alone up until now. Not to mention a secret she’d had no intention of sharing anytime soon, but that had been unexpectedly revealed all the same.

Finally, with a sigh, she seemed to reach a decision. Or perhaps come to her senses, since they both knew there was no way he’d be kept from his child now that he was aware of Danny’s existence. No way in hell.

“Of course,” she said, the words sounding much more agreeable than she felt, he was sure. Meeting him halfway, she carefully transferred the child from her arms to his.

The last child Marc had held who was this size, this age, had to have been his three-year-old niece. But as adorable as his brother’s children were, as much as he loved them, it didn’t hold a candle to how he felt now, cradling his own child to his chest.

He was so tiny, so beautiful, so amazingly peaceful in sleep. Marc soaked in every minuscule feature, from the light dusting of brown hair covering Danny’s head to his satin-soft cheeks, to the tiny fingers he curled and uncurled just beneath his chin.

Marc tried to imagine how Danny had looked as soon as he’d been born…his first day home from the hospital…how Vanessa had looked all rounded and glowing in pregnancy. Tried and failed, because he hadn’t been there, hadn’t known.

A furrow of irritation drew his brows together and he knew he couldn’t leave Summerville without his son, without spending more time with him and hearing every detail of the months that he’d missed of this child’s life.

Drawing his attention back to Vanessa, he said, “It looks like we’ve got a bit of a problem here. I’ve been left out of the loop and have some catching up to do. So I’m going to give you two choices.”

Before she could interrupt, he pressed on. “You and Danny can either pack a bag and come back to Pittsburgh with me, or you can give me an excuse to stick around here. But either way, I will be staying with my son.”





Four




Vanessa wanted nothing more than to snatch Danny away from Marc and go running. Find a place to hide herself and her baby until he lost interest and went back from whence he came.

She knew her ex-husband better than that, though, didn’t she? He would be more inclined to give up breathing or walking upright than he would to walk away from his child.

There was nowhere she could go, nowhere she could hide that he wouldn’t find her. So she might as well save herself the time and trouble and just face the music. She’d composed the symphony, after all.

She’d also been prepared to tell him about her pregnancy as soon as she’d discovered it for herself. Just because things hadn’t worked out quite the way she’d planned didn’t mean she should disregard her moral values now.

But that didn’t mean she was ready to pack up and follow him back to Pittsburgh like a lost puppy. She had a life here. Family, friends, a business to run.

On the other hand, the thought of Marc staying in Summerville made her heart palpitate and brought her as close to suffering a panic attack as she’d ever felt. How could she possibly handle having him underfoot—at the bakery and maybe even living with them at Aunt Helen’s house?

She was trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place, both of which looked suspiciously like her ex-husband. Stubborn, stoic, amazingly handsome in a suit and tie.

“I can’t go back to Pittsburgh,” she blurted out, pretending the sight of Marc holding their infant son in his big, strong arms didn’t tug at parts of her that had no business being tugged.

“Fine,” he said with a nod, his face resolute and jaw firm. “Then I guess I’m relocating.”

Oh, no, that was worse. Wasn’t it? Rock, hard place…rock, hard place. Her chest was so tight with panic, she was beginning to see stars from lack of oxygen.

“You can’t stay here forever,” she told him. “What about the company? Your family?” My sanity?

“It won’t be forever,” he responded.

Looking more reluctant than she’d ever seen him, he handed Danny back to her, careful not to wake him. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and removed a slim black cell phone.

“But if you think that anything back home—with the company or my family—is more important than being here with my son right now, you’re crazy. I can afford to take a few weeks away, I just have to make sure everyone knows where I am and can keep things running smoothly in my absence.”

With that, he turned and headed for the stairs leading back down to the bakery, dialing as he went.

Rocking back and forth, Vanessa stared down at her sleeping son and felt tears prickle behind her eyes.