Not-So-Secret Baby. Jo Leigh
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could think of was holding Patrick. Keeping him safe.
When they finally reached the penthouse, Nick walked with her down the hallway, her boots sinking into the thick pile of the burgundy carpet. The theme continued even here in the lofty heights, with Chinese and Mongol influences in the wall sconces, the paintings and the wallpaper. She’d been awed the first time Todd had brought her here. No detail left unattended, everything had a beauty and a serenity meant to soothe and to comfort. It didn’t work on her. All she could think about was the fact that she’d need a key to get into any of the elevators on this floor. A key he’d never give her.
They stopped at the double doors to Todd’s suite. It was, of course, the most extravagant room in the hotel. More than fifteen-thousand square feet, it was larger than a lot of the motels on the side streets of the city and more decadent than a rock star’s dreams.
Nick knocked and the door opened. A butler she didn’t recognize bowed slightly, took her bag from Nick, then led them into the dragon’s lair.
Marble floors, glass walls, Picassos, Renoirs, antiques; there wasn’t an inch of the suite that wasn’t detailed and designed to be the best of the best. Six bedrooms, twelve baths, a private swimming pool, spa, massage room, grand piano, private dining room and kitchen. It made her physically ill.
But she kept her expression neutral as they neared the master bedroom. He was going to test her—punish her. It would be horrible, but she could take it. She had to take it.
Patrick.
At the door, the butler knocked, then she heard Todd’s voice. She gripped her purse, stood straight, focused. Feeling Nick beside her should have been a comfort, damn it.
The butler led them inside, and then she saw him. Patrick. Sitting on the lap of the man who would own her. Todd’s hair, thick and shockingly white, was immaculate, as was the suit on his tall, muscular frame. A devilishly handsome man, he hid his wickedness behind hypnotically beautiful blue eyes.
“Mommy!”
She tore her gaze from Todd and hurried forward, her anxiety to hold her child stronger than any fear. Patrick squirmed, trying to escape. When he couldn’t, he cried, screamed, his panic loud and shrill in the cavernous room.
She reached the bedside chair where Todd held her son. Just as she was about to fall to her knees and beg, Patrick escaped. He leaped into her arms where she hugged him tight, her tears falling unheeded, his tears fueling her hatred drop by drop.
She looked up briefly, long enough to see that Todd was watching her intently, so she turned. But then she could see Nick. Was that shock in his face? Surprise? Had he really not known that Todd had kidnapped her baby?
Their baby?
Chapter Three
Nick struggled to keep the surprise off his face. A kid? It explained so much. She’d wanted to get away from Todd for a long time before she’d actually made a move. Subtle hints, questions. But then, she’d gotten panicked, insistent. She’d come to him that night…
Nick took a deep, slow breath as the realization washed over him. She’d come to him, to his bed, even though it could have gotten them both killed. She’d known then, had to. She was carrying Todd’s child. Damn it, what a fool he’d been. He’d thought…
It didn’t matter. It was his own damn fault that he’d let himself care about her, that he’d put everything in jeopardy. So what if her reasons had been more complicated?
His gaze went to the boy. How had he gotten here? Nick hadn’t heard a word about it. Why not? Why hadn’t Todd filled him in? Sweet had clearly known, but then, Sweet knew everything. Almost everything. He hadn’t known Nick had helped Jenny escape, or Nick would have been a corpse a long time ago.
Where was he, anyway? Todd couldn’t itch without Sweet scratching, and yet, here was this tender reunion scene and Henry Sweet was nowhere to be seen.
This whole situation stunk. And with what was coming down, Nick had better get to the bottom of it damn fast.
“You look like hell.”
Nick shifted his attention to Todd. It was like old times, the way the man looked at Jenny. Todd was made of granite, except when he was around her. Nick had never met anyone who could master his emotions like C. Randall Todd. It was one of the things that made him so dangerous. And yet as he sat there on the edge of his bed, his face showed his lust, his need, his anger. So vividly, Nick had to stop himself from grabbing Jenny and the kid and running like hell.
Had she really come back to this of her own volition? Impossible. Obviously, Todd had found her, found out about his son, and from that moment there wasn’t a force on earth that could have stopped him from getting the boy.
Todd considered himself the ruler of all he surveyed. And what could be more important to a ruler than an heir to the empire?
Jenny stood, holding fiercely to her son. “What I look like is no concern of yours.”
Todd smiled. Nick felt his blood chill. Damn it, what was she thinking? She knew better than to provoke him.
“Get out, Nick. But don’t go far. You’ll be helping Jenny move into her old suite.”
“Yes, sir,” he said. There was nothing else he could say. He glanced at Jenny, but her attention was fully on Todd. It didn’t matter. He had to go. Now. He was in no position to help her. Not today. Not at all.
Jenny was on her own.
SHE HEARD THE DOOR behind her open and close behind Nick. Her bravado faltered, badly. Todd’s gaze was enough to put the fear of the devil in anyone, but she knew, she remembered too intensely, just who she was facing.
“When we met, I thought your impertinence was charming. That was a long time ago.”
“I’m still me, Todd. That’s something you can’t change.”
“No?” He rose. She’d forgotten just how formidable a man he was, as if her memories could only hold so much of him and no more. At six foot two, he was a little shorter than Nick, but his attitude made him seem huge. He’d kept trim, which didn’t surprise her. He had a personal trainer, played tennis and golf, swam daily. He took pride in his body and, just like everything else of his, it had to be a little better, a little stronger. He looked years younger than fifty-eight, something he never tired of hearing.
“No. I wish I could have been more…forthright about leaving, but the fundamental reasons haven’t changed at all. I don’t want to be here, Todd. You can have anyone. Anyone at all.”
“That’s right. I can. And I want you.”
He reached her side and it was all she could do to maintain her ground. She couldn’t give in to her terror. Not that he didn’t already know she was quaking inside. But she didn’t want Patrick to see. He was scared enough as it was.
“Mommy, I want to go home.”
She kissed his pale forehead. “I know, sweetie. Me, too.”
Todd smiled at the boy, showing off his even, white teeth. Perfect. Fake. “You are home. This is your new home, son.”
“He’s not—” Jenny stopped herself. She’d gone over it and over it since the moment Patrick had disappeared. She didn’t dare tell Todd that Patrick wasn’t his. He wouldn’t believe her; he’d insist on proof. Once he discovered that Nick was Patrick’s father, the two of them were dead. What she didn’t know, and didn’t dare find out, is if it would also mean Patrick’s death. Unthinkable, but Todd was just vicious enough to do something that heinous.
“He doesn’t understand,” she said feebly.
“Then we’ll help him understand, won’t we?” Todd declared, reaching out with his long fingers.
She flinched, but he only touched the side of her cheek. She closed her eyes, held Patrick tighter.