Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (11 page)

“When
did this happen?” His tone remained even, detached almost, but his touch
offered infinite comfort and understanding.

“Three
years ago.” Realizing she had his hands in a death grip, she released them to
rub her fingertips across his knuckles.

“How
did you put your life back together after such an enormous tragedy?”

Kara
sat up straight and squared her shoulders, really looking at him for the first
time since she began relating her story. “I met a man in a museum.”

“No.”
He shook his head, refusing to accept the responsibility for her recovery.
“What happened between then and now? You must have done something that helped
you to survive.”

“Just
the opposite. With money the insurance companies settled on me, and the
proceeds from the sale of our house, I was suddenly very wealthy, a
circumstance that had never been my life’s goal. To have gained materially from
the deaths seemed so ghastly, so mercenary, like the worth of their lives could
be measured on a monetary scale. Mike’s life was short, but he lived long
enough to know certain joys, and pleasures. To achieve success in his field.
But his death took our son’s life with him. There is no solace to be found in
such a waste.”

She
shook her head and scoffed, denying the idea even now. “I shut down
emotionally, closed myself off, determined to pay for being alive by making myself
as miserable as I possibly could. I moved to New York to close myself off and
gain greater distance from my family and friends. I chose not to seek help, or
let go of my misery. Sometimes I think I was afraid that if I let go of the
pain, I’d be letting go of Mike and Adam, too.”

Wyatt’s
amber eyes glowed with empathy. “‘My grief lies all within, and these external
manners of laments are merely shadows to the unseen grief that swells with
silence in the tortured soul.’”

“Yes.”
Now that she knew he was an English professor, she wasn’t quite as amazed by
his ability to sum up each moment with appropriate literary allusions. “I
probably would have drowned in my sorrow if Regina hadn’t kept after me. The
more I resisted, the more she insisted. She literally put me on a plane to come
out here.” Kara paused to trace the scar on his chin with her fingers. “And she
asked a friend of hers to meet me. I’m angry with her for her methods and
horrified to know the history you share with her, but I’m very, very grateful
to her. And to you.”

“Not
to me.”

“You’re
like the Indian bear who broke through the darkness and brought sunshine into
my cold and barren life.” She raised his hand and kissed it. “Thank you.”

She
was relieved to read compassion rather than pity or revulsion in his eyes. He
seemed to struggle with himself to accept her gratitude and then went one step
further by returning it. “Thank you for telling me about it. I know that wasn’t
easy to share.”

“Two
days ago, it would have been impossible.”

Looking
out to sea, chaotic thoughts broke through his normal control and tumbled
across his expression. “How much longer will you be here?”

“Is
that one of your five questions?”

“Do
I have any left?”

Rubbing
her forehead to clear away the tendrils of grief tying her to the past, she
forced her thoughts back to the present. “I lost track.” She would answer as
many as he wanted. Owing him that much and more. “I’m going home on Wednesday,
but if I get the job at The Hansett, I’ll be coming back here to stay for two
or three months.”

Wyatt
cradled her face in his hands. “If you come back to California, will you stay
with me?”

“With
you?”

“For
as long as you’d like. Or for as long as I’d like. Whenever either one of us
would want it to end, it would. No strings attached. No regrets. No
recriminations on either side.”
        

“Why
would you want me to?”

“It
just feels right.” Wyatt shrugged. “I always thought of having a woman here as
an intrusion, but I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. I’d like to continue our
association.”

“I’m
not used to this much ‘associating’.”

“Maybe
it’s like the novelty of a new toy and once the shiny wears off, we’ll slow
down.” He laughed.

Good
heavens! She wondered if this pace of morning-noon-and-night sex was normal for
him.

“Or
instead of staying with me, you could stay here at the cabin. I spend most week
nights at the beach, so you would only have to see me on weekends.”

“It’s
too soon to make these plans,” she objected. “I may not even get the job. And
please don’t pull any strings for me at the museum.”

“Will
you come back if you don’t take the position?”

“I
hadn’t planned on it.”

“Maybe
you could come back for a visit.” She wished he’d just let her go. If he
pressed her to, she’d return. “Will you think about it?”

She
nodded but drew away, uncertain if she meant yes that she’d think about
visiting, or yes that she’d stay with him. They both needed time to think.

Atlanta, present day

After
the news conference, Wyatt returned to his childhood home in Buckhead with his
mother and sister. “I have another announcement to make that might be of some
interest.”

With
Mother arranged in her throne-like chair and Allie in the handmaiden’s seat
nearby, they both looked at him with half-smiles and raised eyebrows. Standing
just inside the door of the arena-sized room, Wyatt had second thoughts about
the champagne he’d asked the housekeeper’s husband, Jonah, to serve.

“What
is it, dear?”

Hoping
his well-known diplomacy would come to his rescue, Wyatt searched his verbal
bag of tricks and discovered he must have left his silver tongue in California.
Maybe he should postpone the announcement. No, now was as good a time as any.
He would give it to them straight, like medicine one needed to swallow in one
gulp.

“You
may congratulate me. I am a father.”

His
mother looked at him over the top of her glasses. “What did you say?”

“I
have recently discovered that I have a child.”

“A
child?” His mother repeated the words as if he’d informed her he’d bought a
fake Monet. And then, with more horror than sensitivity, she choked, “An
illegitimate child?”

“A
child?” Allie echoed, her curiosity blending with enthusiasm. “That’s
wonderful, Wyatt! Boy or girl? How old?”

“Congratulations,
Mr. Wyatt.” Jonah passed around the filled glasses.

“Thank
you, Jonah.” Wyatt lifted his glass in a salute and smiled broadly. “It’s a
boy!”

“Wyatt.”
His mother’s demeanor turned icier than usual. “Are you quite certain?”

“That
he’s a boy? Yes, actually, I am. During his bath time, I witnessed the evidence
of his gender firsthand.”

“I
mean, are you sure that he’s yours? I can’t believe you could be so
irresponsible. So thoughtless of our good name.” A frown conveyed her
sentiments.

“Mother,
surely you realize that I don’t give our good name a lot of thought under any
circumstances. And in amorous moments, none at all.”

She
continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And we all know this wouldn’t be the first
time someone had schemed to get their hands on Wyatt Enterprises for their own
purposes.” Their mother sent Allie a disapproving look that seemed to disavow
her own role in advancing Allie’s ex-husband’s suit into the family.

“There
have been no claims or demands made by anyone, financial or otherwise. And I am
entirely certain that the child is mine.”

“Have
there been blood tests?” His suspicious mother’s doubts would escalate instead
of abate.

“No,
I’ll see to that, but they’re just a technicality.”

“Then
where is the proof?”

    
Wyatt removed several photos from his
inside coat pocket, including one of himself he’d retrieved from a photograph
album earlier in the day. He passed them to her. “Here’s a picture of me as a
newborn, and here’s one of my son. What do you think?”

“Oh,
he’s darling.” Allie peered over their mother’s shoulder to view the pictures.
“He looks a lot like Xander, too, doesn’t he?”

“The
similarity is remarkable.” The Ice Queen thawed slightly, as Wyatt knew she
would under the indisputable evidence of another grandson. But she still
clutched a few straws. “Is this all the woman has to back up her story? It
could as easily be Chase’s child. Your cousin looks very much like you and has
an unsavory history with women. Is the mother someone you admit to having been
intimate with?”

“Yes,
Wyatt.” Allie grinned up him. “Who is the baby’s mamma?”

“Kara
Enderley.”

“Oh,
dear God!” His mother didn’t bother to hide her horror. “The child doesn’t have
her maiden name, does he?”

“No,
Mother, he doesn’t. Kara, along with most of the civilized world, opted for
something more reasonable. His name is Sean Connor.”

“Sean
Connor Enderley, I assume.” She sniffed as she said it.

“That’s
right.” He took a seat in a Queen Anne chair near Allie.

“Oh,
I was afraid of something like this.” Mother gulped champagne in one of the few
unladylike acts Wyatt had ever witnessed from her.

“Afraid
of what? That I’d eventually father a child?”

“Yes,
because I knew you’d choose to go about it in an unorthodox manner rather than
marry an appropriate young woman of good family and settle down here in
Atlanta.” Her usual serene expression segued from irritation to outright
distaste. “But more importantly, I’ve worried about the amount of influence
this Enderley woman seems to have over you. I didn’t believe you would have set
up such a substantial foundation for her deceased child if there was nothing
between you any longer, as you claimed.”

He
unbuttoned his suddenly too-tight top button of his shirt and loosened his tie.
“Actually, there is nothing between us. Except for this one very significant
connection.” And some rather undefined hopes on his part.

Allie
leaned over and kissed Wyatt’s cheek. “I, for one, think this is fabulous news.
What do you plan to do now?”

“I
plan to learn how to be a father.”

“Before
or after you seek custody of the child?” His mother looked at him over the rim
of her champagne flute.

“There’s
no question of that.” Wyatt made sure his words left no room for doubt.

He
should have expected that once past the initial shock, she would push him to
gain custody. Nothing like another grandchild to ensure the future of her holy
financial empire.

“Of
course, there is, dear.” Her tone turned noticeably sweeter. “If he truly is
one of us, then he should be raised here, where he can appreciate all that will
one day be his.”

She
gestured around the room at the array of museum-quality old masters and
antiques. Wyatt considered the difference between this stuffy showplace and
Kara’s warm, comfortable home. He remembered how tiny hands were never allowed
to touch anything in this room, and how little boys were never allowed to roam
freely. At Kara’s, no material possession was more important to her than her
child.

Beyond
the residence itself, he knew his mother’s realm also included the family
heritage and influence, along with extensive business holdings. None of which
he or Xander had ever aspired to, despite having been raised among it, and the
pressure which had been applied to them. Shuddering, he vowed to never allow
her to use the same tactics on Sean.

“No,
Mother.” He wouldn’t let her interfere with whatever might happen between him
and Kara, or in the direction Sean’s life would take. “I’m satisfied with the
situation as it now stands. Kara has no interest in relocating to Atlanta, and
I won’t consider taking Sean from her. I advise you not to consider it,
either.”

Mother
firmed her lips for a moment, but it went against her grain to remain silent.
“I believe I’ll consult James Luttrell for a contingency plan.”

“Kara
and I will work this out between ourselves.” Plain speaking was all she would
understand, and even then, it might be best to employ a bit of blackmail. “If
you interfere in any way, I will see to it that you will never know your
grandson. Do I make myself clear, Mother?”

“Are
you saying that I will get to know him as things are now?” She met his level
gaze with one of her own.

Perhaps
this was the concession she had wanted from the first. “As soon as you can
arrange it, you can go to New York with me and meet him.”

“I
want to go, too,” Allie said. “And Xander?”

“Yes,
of course. Anyone in the family who wants to.” Wyatt tried to relax in his
chair, shifting his weight in the uncomfortable collector’s piece. “Frankly, I
can’t wait to show him off.”

“Why
don’t you bring him here to us, Wyatt?” his mother said.

Jonah,
still beaming over Wyatt’s disclosure, returned to refill his glass.

“Eventually,
I will, Mother, but not now, and maybe not anytime soon. As odd as it may seem
to you, Kara isn’t all that wild about the idea of her son being a member of
our family.”

“She
should have thought about that before.” Queen Rosalie motioned a surprised
Jonah to pour her another small measure of champagne. That single act revealed
the depths of her distress more clearly than anything she had said or done. Her
ironclad rule on the subject of drinking limited ladies of quality to a single
glass of spirits before dinner. Never, under any circumstances, two. Even on
the day of his father’s funeral, she hadn’t broken the rule. Although on that
day, the glass had been filled with bourbon. Straight.

“Mother,
don’t blame Kara. Like it or not, I was there, too.”

    
“So Kara says. Although I’m still not
convinced. If the child is really yours, why doesn’t she want him to be a part
of this family? Most people would feel honored.”

Wyatt
shook his head, wondering how many arguments he’d won with his mother in his
lifetime. Not many. Just when he gained the lead in any debate, she had an
uncanny habit of changing sides.

“You
can’t have it both ways. You didn’t like it when you thought she was a gold
digger out to mine the family coffers, and now you don’t like it any better
that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with us. Believe anything you
want, Mother, but Sean is my son, and I’ll conduct my affairs as I see fit.”

“Yes,
dear, I know.” She rose regally and sailed from the room. At the door, she
added her final words on the subject. “After all, the desire to conduct your
own affairs is what has led you to this current situation.”

“She
got you there.” Allie laughed as their mother’s precise footsteps dwindled down
the hall.

“She
usually does.”

“She
doesn’t!” His sister exclaimed. “Not you.”

“Probably
more often than you realize. Hopefully, more often than she realizes. I’m just
better at hiding it than you are. But today, I’m too happy to care.”

“Oh,
I’m so thrilled for you, Wyatt.” Allie stood and gave him a bracing hug.
Linking her arm through his, she drew him into the sunroom where she could kick
off her shoes and be more comfortable. “Come tell me all about this. How did it
happen?”

Wyatt
rolled his eyes and she laughed again. “Not the physical details, of course. I
liked your Ms. Enderley when she was here, but I didn’t think things went all
that well between you.”

He
rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, remembering that week all too
clearly. “They did and they didn’t.”

Atlanta, three years earlier

Finding
it difficult to keep a lid on his impatience, Wyatt leaned against a post at the
airport. He lifted his Ray-Bans to check his watch, wishing he’d brought Kara
here on a private flight. Or made her reservation for an earlier one. Anything
to get her here sooner, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Despite her objections,
he’d made sure her ticket had been in first-class. She should be one of the
first to deplane.

Two
businessmen with briefcases reached the luggage carousel first. Next came two
young mothers, one carrying a small child and another pushing a baby stroller.
For a single moment, his gaze traveled to a middle-aged couple behind them, and
then swung back to the two women with children.

He
hadn't expected Kara to be carrying a small child or to look so natural doing
it. A man in shorts and a T-shirt, hugging the other woman and scooping both
children into his arms. The woman made gestures of introduction. After shaking
hands, Kara relinquished the little boy to his father. With a pat on the
child’s head, she nodded and turned away, anxiously searching the crowd.

Wyatt
stayed where he was, content for a few more moments to look at her. God, she
was beautiful. Her brown hair gleamed with streaks of fiery red and curled
around her face. She definitely looked more animated and more grounded than she
had the first time he saw her in California. The sadness that had followed her
around like a dark cloud now cast nothing more than a faint shadow.