'Tis the Season (24 page)

A little thrill burst in Lisette's chest, but she said, “I appreciate that, but we have to be careful. If we're going to keep our relationship a secret, and she's around us—”

“She'll pick up on it and pounce, I know.” His gaze got steely, the determination obvious. “But there's no way I'm going to stay away from you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “I couldn't if I tried.”

Her heart fluttered at the soft, earnest words. She smiled and kissed him fully.

“She wants to spend all day with them tomorrow,” he said. “So you'll have that time to yourself. I wish I could do something with you, but I want to keep an eye on her. She doesn't know the kids. I plan to either go along if they leave the house, or lurk if they stay here, whether she likes it or not.”

“Good idea.” She was so glad to hear him say that. She'd had similar thoughts and concerns for the kids. If he was going to be wherever they were, they'd be fine. “They must be happy to see her.”

His jaw tightened. “The boys are. But Ava . . .” He rolled off Lisette onto his back, pulling her with him and curling her into his side. “She's glad to see her mother, but she's wary. How sad is that. Ava's nine, and already knows her mother is a fickle woman who must want something if she just showed up like this.” His fingers absently played with Lisette's hair. “I don't know what's worse. Ava's astute intuition, or the boys' naïveté in thinking that their mommy loves them so much she had to come see them.”

Lisette rested her head and one hand on his broad chest. His strong, solid heartbeat was comforting. “Both selections are kind of awful, actually.”

“I know.” He sighed and stroked her back in slow, tender sweeps. “Whatever. I'm not going to let Vanessa derail anything here. You and I will both keep an eye on the kids. She's visiting, and she'll leave soon.”

I sure hope so
, Lisette thought. She tilted her head to kiss Charles's jaw. “You smell really good.”

He smiled. “Yeah?”

“Mm hmm.” She pressed herself closer into his side and snaked her arms around his waist. “How about we just lie here and hold each other for a while? I think you need that.”

He looked at her, appreciation and affection clear in his gaze. “How do you always correctly sense what I need?”

She gave a tiny shrug. “I don't know. I guess I'm just . . . tuned in to you.”

“Thank God for that,” he murmured. With great tenderness, he kissed her forehead, then her mouth. He kissed her once more, long and sweet, then snuggled her tight. “Let me hold you. I missed the feel of you.”

They lay together quietly for a few minutes, savoring the closeness, the intimacy, their bubble away from the world.

“I was thinking, on the plane back today . . .” He grazed his fingertips along her cheek. “You know about the huge gala Tess throws every December for the Harrison Foundation, right?”

“Sure,” Lisette said. “It's one of Manhattan's biggest social events of the year.”

“Yes. Well, it's on the eighteenth.”

“Okay . . .” She waited.

“I want you to come with me,” he said.

She pulled back a bit to look at him. “I thought kids weren't allowed there?”

His mouth pulled up in a half smile bemused by her confusion. “They're not. I don't mean for you to come as their nanny. I mean for you to come as my date.”

“What?”
She pulled out of his embrace altogether, sat up, and gaped at him. “You've got to be kidding.”

“No, I'm not.”

“What happened to our taking it slow, keeping it secret?” She stared at him, lying there so casually. “All of a sudden, you want to out us to the world?”

“I don't care about the world. I just want my girlfriend with me.” He reached for her hand.

She wondered if he'd lost his mind. “I thought once we decided we were ready, we'd tell the kids first,
then
the world.”

“Right. And we can tell the kids soon. Before the ball, for sure.”

“That's less than a week away.”

“Plenty of time.”

“Didn't we
just
say how we don't want Vanessa to get wind of this?” Lisette stared at him in total confusion.

“Yes, but . . .” he said, “I just thought of something else. She can't hurt you if we out ourselves before she finds out about us.”

Lisette shook her head vehemently. “No. You're . . . you don't get it.”

His eyes held hers. “If we tell the kids first, no one can hurt them. If we tell the world first, no one can hurt you.”

“That's a lovely thought, but that's not how this works!” she said, alarm flooding her. “Remember when I called you obtuse? This is beyond obtuse; it's being willfully ignorant. Arrogant. You want what you want, so you're willing to throw caution to the wind. But the truth is, if this all blows up, you're the only one who will escape unscathed.”

“How can you say that? I'm just as invested in this as you are,” he asserted.

She shook her head and swept her hair back from her face. Anxiety made her heart pound and her throat suddenly dry. “You're . . . being selfish, Charles. You're not thinking clearly. You're not really thinking this through. It's unlike you.”

“Whoa.” He stared hard, lines gathering in his forehead and around his eyes. He sat up too, facing her. “That's a little harsh.”

“I'm sorry, but it's true.”

“I'm selfish because I want my new girlfriend with me at a social event?”

“Yes.”

A muscle twitched under his eye.

“You're jumping into this,” she said, “without any forethought about the kids or me. I'm touched that you want me with you, but it's not worth hurting them over.”

“How would it hurt them,” Charles said, “to know that their father is happier than he's been in a very long time? Because of you, someone they care about?”

“They're little.” She sighed. “They're not going to go from accepting me as their nanny to accepting me as your girlfriend overnight, just because you want them to.”

“How do you know?” he asked. “Kids are very accepting, and they love you. For all you know, they'll be thrilled. I think they will be.”

“Because you want to believe that, and you're used to getting your way. But . . .” She stared at him. She wasn't getting through to him. The anxiety and accompanying adrenaline had already made her hands tingle, and now they worked their way through the rest of her. She drew a long, deep breath and got up from the bed.

“Where are you going?” He frowned at her. “Come back, we're not done talking.”

She didn't move away from the bed, but she didn't retake her spot beside him. “Thank you for the invite, but I'm not going to the ball with you,” she said quietly. Her arms folded around her middle. “Now there's no reason to tell them so soon.”

He rose from the bed, jaw tight and eyes flashing. “You're afraid to tell them.”

“Of course I am!” she cried. “We—this—it's still so new! I don't want to hurt them!”

“No, that's not it.” His stare pinned her. “You're afraid to tell them because it'll make this totally real. Something you can't pretend isn't happening. You're scared of it.”

Her mouth fell open. “Is that what you think?”

He nodded.

“You need to leave now,” she whispered.

His eyes flashed, and his lips flattened into a thin line. “No. Not until we finish this conversation.”

“We're talking in circles. You don't want to hear me. It's pointless.”

“I'm in love with you,” he said fiercely. “So this isn't pointless. This is important for us to figure out, together, no matter how hard it may be.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then took off like a racehorse. “Wh-what?”

He grasped her shoulders, bending a bit to look right into her eyes. “I was away for all of thirty-six hours, and I missed you so much it ached.” He spoke softly, but wouldn't let her look away. “When I found out Vanessa was awful to you, I was so furious that someone would treat you that way I wanted to throw things.” He reached up and smoothed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I watch you with my kids, and it's so genuine. It's not just you doing your job, though you're damn good at it. It's more. You love them, and they love you. And . . . now I love you too.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “That's not going to change. It's only going to get deeper and stronger every day. So yes, I thought, why wait? I know how I feel.”

“Oh, Charles,” she whispered, wishing her heart didn't feel stuck in her chest.

“I don't mean to sound selfish, or obtuse, or arrogant,” he said. “But you're right about one thing: I want what I want, and what I want is you.” He brushed his lips against hers tenderly. “Forgive me for sounding so self-consumed. I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated, about ten different things, and I wish this situation were simpler.”

“Me too.” She slipped her arms around his waist and held tight. The sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear, strong and sure, was comforting, while her heart felt as if it were doing a jitterbug in her chest. “Yes, I'm afraid of our telling the kids, and their not accepting it, or being confused and angry . . . or rejecting me. I admit it.”

“I really don't think that would happen,” he said, his hands sweeping up and down her back in long, slow caresses. “And I admit that . . . with Vanessa here, it just feels as though we might need to do some things faster than we initially planned. Like telling the kids. Because I want it to come from us, not from her.”

She nodded against his chest. “I get that. It just feels too soon. We haven't been together for that long . . .”

He sighed and let his chin rest on the top of her head. “I know. But that doesn't make it any less real. I know I love you. That's got to count for something.”

“It counts for a lot.” Her voice felt thick in her throat.

He pulled back enough to look at her, lift her chin with a fingertip. “So . . . how do you feel? Just curious.”

A staccato laugh burst from her. “I can't believe you don't know.”

His brow furrowed as he waited.

“I've been in love with you for a while already,” she admitted. “I thought it was so obvious.”

“Well,” he said, grinning, “as you've pointed out on more than one occasion, I'm a little obtuse.”

She giggled and shook her head. “Sometimes. It's okay. I love you anyway.”

His smile widened, his eyes sparkled, and he lowered his mouth to hers to kiss her long and hard. “Do you really?”

“Yes.”

“You're not saying it because . . . you know. Because you have to, because you're afraid for your job?”

“No! God, no.”

“You're not saying it because you think it's what I want to hear, and I want what I want?” He said that facetiously, but she saw the serious glint in his eyes.

She nodded, overcome by emotion. “Charles, I love you so much. I love you, and yes, I love your children too. So much it scares me. That's why I desperately want this to work.”

“Me too.” He let his lips sip from hers, lingering, savoring. “We'll make it work.” He smiled and kissed her again before holding her tight. “So . . . we'll tell the kids in a few days . . . and then you'll come to the ball with me. Please. Have faith in me.”

Her head was spinning.
He loved her
. He was in love with her, and he wanted her enough to tell the world about it. Would the kids be okay with this? Would they think it strange, or be angry at her for being with their dad? They'd always had him to themselves. And with Vanessa around for now . . . she hoped they weren't rushing things because she'd forced their hand . . .

She'd overthink it all tomorrow. For now, she just wanted to be held by him and listen to the sound of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She pulled him to the bed, and they lay on it together. “Just hold me,” she whispered.

Chapter Twenty-Four

When Lisette got down to the kitchen in the morning, Eileen was already at the stove, scrambling eggs. “Good morning.”

“Ah, good morning, dearie!” Eileen said cheerfully. Lisette didn't know how Eileen was always so upbeat in the morning without coffee. Eileen had sworn off caffeine a decade before and said she'd never felt better. Lisette, on the other hand, went straight to the coffee pot. The morning fog in her head wasn't going to clear by itself.

“Thank you for making this,” she said as she poured herself a cup of dark ambrosia.

“Of course.”

“The kids downstairs in the playroom?”

“Yes. I gave them apples and bananas so they wouldn't bounce off the walls, and I'm making them a real breakfast now.”

“Sounds right. Is Charles up yet?”

“He is, but he left early.” Eileen reached for a small cup and added some cubed ham to the eggs. “Said he had some errands to run and would be back around ten-thirty or eleven o'clock.”

“Good to know. Thanks.” Lisette went to the refrigerator to find the flavored coffee creamers, chose the hazelnut, and added some to her coffee. Her stomach rumbled. At least she wasn't nauseous, but she was starving. She grabbed a banana from the large wooden fruit bowl.

Eileen pushed the eggs around with the spatula, then gestured for Lisette to come closer. “So the witch is back, eh?” she murmured.

Lisette nodded as she swallowed her bite. “And witchy as can be. I'll never understand how she roped Charles in,” Lisette murmured.

“Won't you?” Eileen asked, her brows lifting.

“Because she's stunningly beautiful?”

“Nah, try again.” Eileen winked. “Charles was never the sucker for a pretty face like his brothers used to be.”

“Then I really don't know.” Lisette took a sip of coffee. “It mystifies me, frankly.”

“There's no mystery, sweetie,” Eileen said. “She was a bad, bad girl. Plain and simple. Charles's father told him what to do his whole life. This was the one time Charles tried to buck the restraints and be naughty, you know?”

Lisette couldn't believe it was something that simple. “You think so?”

“I know so. It's textbook, really.” Eileen moved to put the mound of eggs onto a huge platter. “There's no bigger pleasure than doing what you're not supposed to, you know what I mean? But when everything became familiar and he realized what life with her would really be like? Well, by then, it was too late; he'd already had a child with her, and he was stuck with her.” Eileen shook her head in disdain. “He's so honorable, he would've stayed with it forever, simply because he'd made an oath.
She's
the one who left. She got bored. Yes, she broke his heart . . . but good riddance. Her leaving was the best thing that ever happened to him. She did him a huge favor.”

Lisette's stomach did a wobbly roll as she considered what Eileen had said. That the forbidden is more enticing than anything . . . That certainly applied to their secret relationship, didn't it? Was that really why Charles wanted her so much? Not because he wanted
her
, but because he wasn't supposed to be with her? Doubt crept through her, nipping at her. He was unhappy with his regular life, sick of having his choices dictated to him . . . What better way to rebel and not hurt the company or his career than by having a fling with someone he shouldn't? Oh, God . . .

“I'm going to check on the kids,” she said. “It's too quiet.”

“Well, like I said, they're down in the playroom,” Eileen said. “Could you tell them that breakfast is on the table?”

“Sure.” Lisette set down her mug on the counter and left the kitchen.

The entire furnished basement was a playroom. The tremendous space had been split in half: one half was for the kids; the other half had a bar, a pool table, and three vintage arcade games—an adult playroom for Charles. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear the children talking and the TV volume blaring. At the bottom of the stairs, while she was still in the hallway, her cell phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. The doctor's office. And it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Lisette Gardner?” said a male voice.

“Yes, it is.”

“Ah, hi, Lisette. It's Dr. Gilbert.”

“You're calling awfully early,” she said, her heart suddenly pounding. “And on a Saturday. Now I'm nervous.”

“Well,” he said, “we got some of the blood results back, and I wanted to speak to you right away.”

A wave of panic flooded her, and she leaned against the wall for support. She
was
sick; oh, God, something was wrong with her. “Go ahead.”

“The good news is, it definitely explains all the symptoms you described to me,” Dr. Gilbert said. “Lisette, you're pregnant.”

Her head went all wavy, and she could barely breathe. “B-but that's impossible. I can't be pregnant.”

“I'll admit, when looking over your files, I was surprised too. But according to the blood work, there's no question. You're pregnant.”

Her legs gave out, and she slid down the wall. The roaring of blood in her ears almost knocked her out. She finally sputtered, “There has to be a mistake. I was told I'd never get pregnant. The scarring, the damage—there's no way—”

“Lisette. Take a deep breath,” Dr. Gilbert instructed. “I'm sure you're shocked. But can you come in this morning? We'll do an ultrasound and see what's going on. We'll run more tests. How soon can you get here?”

She swallowed hard, her mind unable to process. This was impossible. The doctors had made it very clear . . .

Then again, she hadn't even had sex with anyone again—even once—after Brandon, so the doctors' opinions had never been tested. There'd been no sex until Charles.

Oh, God. Charles. What a mess. But . . .

New waves of mixed panic and excitement crested and battered her. She struggled to breathe. Could it really be possible? A baby of her
own
? The tiniest spark of hope ignited deep in her soul, in a place she'd locked up and snuffed out years ago . . .

“Lisette?” Dr. Gilbert said loudly. “Are you there?”

“Y-yeah,” she whispered. “I'm here. Sorry. Just overwhelmed.”

“I bet. Let's run more tests,” he said. “Come to the office. All right?”

Eyes still closed, heart pounding, mind racing, hope fighting to rise to the top despite it all, she drew a shaky breath and said, “I'll be there in an hour.”

* * *

Four hours later, Lisette entered the mansion in a total daze. Nothing felt real. So many emotions had gripped and slammed her that day that she was now drained. All she wanted was to climb into her bed and sleep until tomorrow.

She had so many decisions to make. Her life had just changed, massively and irrevocably, and she could barely process any of it. But there was one emotion reigning over all the rest: joy. She really
was
pregnant. The ultrasound, blood, and urine tests had all left no room for doubt. She was already approximately nine weeks along.

The doctor had told her it would likely be considered a high-risk pregnancy just because of her history, aside from her being a few months away from turning thirty-five, and he had given her a referral for an obstetrician in the same building. She'd gone straight there, and even heard her baby's heartbeat, strong and sure. The sound had been such a shock, such an unbelievable gift, that she'd burst into tears.

There were so many things to consider; she was completely overwhelmed. She needed time to think, to figure out how to tell Charles that he'd gotten her pregnant.

He'd trusted and believed her when she told him her story. What if he thought she had tricked him into getting her pregnant to take some of his substantial fortune? What if Charles wasn't happy about the news? He already had three children and was forty years old; maybe he didn't want the responsibility of another one.

She swayed in the foyer at that horrible thought. Her hand protectively went to her belly. She had no idea what would happen to her now, or what the reactions around her would be, but she knew one thing with every fiber of her being: she wouldn't let anything happen to this baby. Not for anything in the world.

Lisette looked around at the opulent mansion as she shuffled slowly inside. The expensive and tasteful furnishings were tangible proof of the billionaire lifestyle of the home's owner. Hell, the artwork on the walls? Any of those pieces likely cost more than she made in a year. Charles Roger Harrison III was a wealthy, powerful man from a long line with a storied history. Who the hell was she in comparison? She was nobody. An army brat with no roots, no family, no prestigious connections or money or anything substantial. She had nothing but her job and herself.

She passed the living room and caught a glimpse of the Christmas tree, majestic and beautiful.
A baby.
She was actually going to have a baby of her own. She'd have more than a job; she'd have someone in her life who would stay. Her eyes went to the holiday decorations adorning the house, sparkling and festive. It was almost like a Christmas miracle . . .

Excitement, anguish, and disbelief slammed her at the same time, the flood of feelings almost bringing her to her knees.

Bed. She needed her bed. Swallowing hard, she went to the stairs.

“Hey, there you are!” Charles's ebullient voice rang out from down the hall.

She'd made it to the bottom step. Lisette froze, and she felt the blood drain from her face. She wasn't ready to face him yet. “Hi,” she choked out, heart thumping against her ribs.

“I was wondering where you were.” Smiling brightly, he went to her, standing close but not touching her. “The kids went out with Vanessa for ice cream. We were here all morning, and she seemed okay with them, so I let her take them out on her own. A trial run, so to speak.” He winked conspiratorially. “We're mostly alone; Eileen's in the kitchen, and Maisie and Felicia are cleaning the upstairs right now . . .” He peered closely at her. “Where'd you disappear to? Didn't you get my texts?”

Of course she had. But she'd been otherwise occupied, crying and trembling from shock in a doctor's office. “Sorry. I was busy . . .”

His expression changed; staring, he frowned hard. “What's wrong?” He finally reached out to touch her, tipping her chin up with his fingers. “I'm rambling, and something happened; it's all over your face.”

Her eyes shut again, as if that would shield her from his scrutiny. “I'm wiped out, and I need to lie down, that's all.” She opened her eyes and added, “I'm fine.”

“No, you're not.” He edged closer, concern in his bright blue eyes. “Tell me what's going on.”

Damn, he knew her too well already. Her mind raced, trying to think of an excuse that would sound plausible. “I . . . I ran some errands, but then I . . . had a doctor's appointment. Couldn't answer texts during my exam.”

“You went, like I asked? Great.” His hands gently gripped her arms. “And?”

“And they ran a bunch of tests . . . blood work and all . . . I'll hear back in a few days.” She tried to smile as her eyes darted around the room. “I'm okay.”

“What do they think it might be?” Charles asked. “Based on your symptoms?”

They think a miracle has happened, and you're going to be a father again in July.
“Not sure. They didn't want to scare me with speculations. They'll call when they know something, if there's anything. Said I should eat better and sleep more, stay away from caffeine, etcetera, etcetera.” At least that last part was true.

He held her face with both hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Why won't you look at me?”

Oh, God, oh, God, she wouldn't be able to keep this from him for long. And he had the right to know. But she had to figure out what her plans would be, prepare herself for every possible scenario. “I'm just really tired. I . . . threw up again on the way home from the doctor,” she lied. “Probably from nerves, but I'm trying not to breathe puke breath in your face, and I just want to crawl into bed, you know?”

“My poor sweetheart. Come with me,” he murmured firmly and led her upstairs, down the long corridor to his bedroom.

“There are people in the house,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “We can't—”

“I'm locking us in here. No one will know.” Charles ushered her into his room, immediately locking the door behind them. An arm around her waist, he brought her to his massive bed, covered with the multi-hued blue comforter and several throw pillows. He yanked back the covers and shot her a sweet grin. “Get in. Nap time.”

Tears stung her eyes. The kinder he was, the more attentive and caring he was, the more it was going to kill her. “I should just go to my room.”

“No.” He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm selfish. I want some time alone with you. Even if it's just holding you while you sleep.”

“But when Vanessa comes back with the kids—”

“This will be the one room they won't look for you in, right? So you can sleep, uninterrupted. You do look a little tired.” He smiled softly and caressed her face. “Lisette. You always take care of everyone else. For an hour at least, let someone take care of you. Me. The guy who loves you.”

“Oh, Charles . . .” The tears welled and spilled over onto her cheeks.

“Hey.” His thumbs tenderly wiped the tears away. “Shhh, you're going to be fine. The doctors will figure out what's going on, and we'll deal with it, and you'll be fine.”