His Son, Her Secret Read online

  “I’m still going to live in that house. I like the kitchen,” he said with a grin. But then the grin faded. “If we can’t live together, I hope you’ll consider letting me get you a place closer to me. I don’t want to waste time I could be spending with my son in traffic.”

  She thought about this. She had no attachment to this apartment. And if Byron was helping with the rent, she’d love to get a place that had a yard for Percy to play in. She didn’t need a mansion, no matter what Byron said. But she’d like to raise her son in a house.

  “I guess that sounds reasonable.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “But not a palace.” Because if it fell apart, she wanted to try to keep things the same for Percy, and that meant keeping him in the same house as long as Leona could afford it.

  “Does that mean you’ll come to the house for the two weeks? You’ll give it a shot?”

  She uncurled her fingers and handed him back the ring. “I’ll come to the house. Ask me again in two weeks.”

  Byron hugged her fiercely. His one hand moved up and down her back while the other did the same on her thigh. She twisted against him because her one shoulder was being compressed by the strength of his embrace—but that brought her chest in contact with his. Her nipples—unencumbered by a bra and sensitized by the cool night air—responded with far more enthusiasm than was strictly proper.

  He brushed her short hair back from her cheek and looked at her tenderly. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you. I’m here for the long haul. You know that, don’t you?”

  She desperately wanted to believe that, wanted to believe all the pretty promises he’d made her. But she didn’t know if she could. Not yet, anyway. He was here for the long haul, for Percy, that she believed. After all, the Beaumonts always kept the kids. He’d never desert their son.

  She just wished she could believe that he wouldn’t desert her—again.

  She should have already bought a pregnancy test, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Another unplanned pregnancy was something she didn’t have time for and she’d made a conscious decision that she wasn’t going to think about it until it became apparent one way or the other. She simply did not have the time or energy to waste on what-ifs at this point.

  Something about the way he was rubbing her back shifted and instead of just stroking her, he was pushing her toward him. It wasn’t as if there was a lot of distance between them to begin with—she was sitting on his lap—but every millimeter closer to his lips felt more intimate—more sexual—than it had before.

  She knew she was going to kiss him. She knew she wanted him to kiss her back—wanted all the things that she hadn’t allowed herself to dream of for the past year.

  She wanted him. She always had. Even when he’d first asked her out and she knew exactly who he was and knew exactly why she should steer clear of him—she’d wanted him then.

  There was only one problem.

  “We can’t,” she breathed. “Percy—May...”

  “Shh,” he said in a gentle voice. His hand slid over the outside of her thigh and down the inside. “Let me take care of you.”

  His fingers dipped down, rubbing against the seam of her yoga pants until she jolted in his arms. “Byron...”

  His other arm circled her waist even tighter, pinning her to him. A single finger moved down farther, testing and pressing lightly until she gasped when he hit just the right spot.

  “Shh,” he said again, rubbing small circles over that spot. “You have to be quiet, babe. Let me do this for you.”

  She tucked her lower lip under her teeth and nodded. With a wicked grin, Byron pressed harder.

  Leona tried not to make a sound, but Byron used his chin to tilt her head back and then he was kissing his way down her cheek, her neck—right to that place below her ear that had always made her shiver with need, even before she’d been able to name what that need was.

  She must have made a noise because the hand around her waist squeezed tighter and the hand between her legs stopped moving and Byron whispered against her skin, “Are you being quiet?”

  She bit down even harder on her lip and nodded.

  “If you can’t be quiet,” he went on, his words little louder than a breath, “I’ll have to stop. Do you want me to stop?”

  Before she could shake her head no, he scraped his teeth over that place. She managed to keep the moan locked down in the back of her throat, but there was no stopping the way her body shook for him.

  She clutched at his forearm, the one that was moving against her. The muscles in his arms, thick and corded, moved under her hands. He’d always been so strong, moving with a coiled grace both in the kitchen and out of it. Whether he was handling his knives or handling her, he knew exactly what he was doing.

  Her hips shifted down onto what was quite clearly a growing erection. “That’s it,” he murmured. His single finger made lazy little circles over the seam in her pants, which rubbed against her.

  She could feel her muscles tightening, feel him bringing her closer and closer to an orgasm. She clung to Byron as his finger moved faster. Her legs started to lift in response to the strain of trying to keep quiet, but Byron used his elbow to keep them down. “Do you need to come?” he whispered against her neck, his breath caressing her bare skin.

  She nodded, struggling to breathe without uttering a sound. She wanted him inside of her, wanted to feel the weight of his body pinning her to the bed. She wanted to be his. God, how she wanted to be his.

  “Say it,” he said, and for the first time she heard how ragged his breathing was. “Tell me you need to come.”

  “I...” He pressed against her and held firm. Her body pulsed around his and she was afraid if she tried to talk, all she’d do was scream.

  “Say it,” Byron said again. “Say how much you need me to let you come.”

  “I need to come. Please.”

  Her words came out as a garbled moan, but at least Byron understood the gist of it. Without hesitation, he pressed and rubbed harder and faster until Leona came apart in his arms. Her back arched so far that, if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen right off his lap.

  But Byron held her close as the waves of orgasm rolled through her. His touch against her sex slowed and then the pressure lightened until he was gently stroking her. When she fell forward against him, he curled both arms around her as she struggled to get her breathing back to normal. Byron stroked her hair, his arms strong around her. She could still feel his erection hard against her bottom. “You’re so beautiful, babe. I want to do that to you every night.”

  “Just that?”

  He laughed. “I’ll get some new condoms or whatever you want to use, I’ll cover it. Because that,” he added, pausing only to kiss her on the lips, “was only the beginning.”

  Thirteen

  Byron didn’t have much to pack. He’d only taken a few suitcases with him to Europe. Everything else had gone into storage and it had stayed there when he’d moved back into the mansion.

  The beds had been delivered yesterday. For some reason that was beyond his grasp getting mattresses only took a matter of days but the rest of the furniture Leona had ordered would take a couple of months. The baby furniture had also come quickly, but that was because Byron had refused to take no for an answer.

  He’d arranged for the rest of his things to be delivered on Monday—his pots and pans and his knives—things that wouldn’t have exactly cleared security for the flight over to Paris. He had some basic furniture that would fill the gaps until the rest was delivered.

  He was loading his T-shirts into a bag when someone knocked on his bedroom door. He cringed—he didn’t want to go around with Frances again. “Yes?”

  But it wasn’t Frances who poked her head into the room—it was Chadwick. “Hey,” he said, looking stern
. “Got a moment?”

  It was hard to see how this visit would be a good thing. Chadwick had always been the cold, serious favorite of their father, so Byron hadn’t even tried. He’d been George’s favorite and that was what had mattered. As long as Byron didn’t screw up any of Chadwick’s plans, they existed in relative harmony.

  Harmony that looked like it was about to be broken. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Chadwick shut the door behind him before he pulled out the chair at the antique writing desk and sat. Not good, Byron thought.

  Chadwick watched as Byron tried to keep packing his bags. They’d never been close. Byron was eight years younger and Chadwick and Phillip—Byron’s other, older half brother—had always been locked in a battle of wills with Matthew. Byron and Frances had been an afterthought, if anyone had thought of them at all.

  Finally, Chadwick spoke. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  Damn. The only real question was who had talked—Frances or Matthew? Byron would put his money on Matthew. He ran the new Percheron Drafts with Chadwick. “Actually, I’m planning on getting married.”

  Chadwick’s eyebrows jumped up, but he didn’t say anything. He just waited.

  Damn it all. Byron forced himself to keep a casual tone. “And I bought a house, so I’m going to be living there from now on.” He tried to smile in a jokey manner. “I appreciate the hospitality, though.”

  Chadwick waved his hand dismissively. “Anytime. This will always be your home as much as mine.”

  Byron shrugged and started loading his socks into another bag. “So, the future bride,” Chadwick went on. “Anyone we know?”

  “Frances met her once. She’s an old girlfriend. We broke up before I went to Europe but now that I’m back, we’re together again.” Which was true, in the strictest sense of the word. He was not lying. He was just omitting. Big difference.

  A guilty thought hit him. That was what Leona would have thought—what she had thought.

  Hell.

  “I see,” Chadwick said in a severe tone that made it clear he was disappointed with Byron’s answer. Damn it, someone had squealed. “So the fact that our lawyers want to run a prenup with a custody agreement past me has no bearing on the situation?”

  Oh, hell—the lawyers. On the bright side, at least Matthew hadn’t ratted Byron out. But that probably just meant that he, Matthew and Frances were all in the doghouse for holding out on Chadwick.

  “I didn’t think it was relevant. I was merely taking steps to protect the family business.”

  “Ah.” Chadwick lounged casually in the chair. He was wearing a suit, of course. Byron had trouble remembering a time when Chadwick hadn’t worn suits. He probably even showered in the damn things. “Forgive me, but I fail to see how the fact that you’ve fathered a child is not relevant. For that matter, I don’t see why you felt it was necessary to protect the family without actually telling any of us about it. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  Byron slumped onto the bed in defeat. “Fine. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d freak out on me.”

  “I do not ‘freak out,’” Chadwick replied. “We’re not children anymore. It’s not like I’m going to ground you. If you have a situation and you think it might affect the family, you can tell me.”

  Byron had his doubts on that one. “I’m planning on marrying Leona Harper. She had our son six months ago. I only found out about him when I hired her to design the restaurant.”

  Byron wasn’t actually sure what Chadwick freaking out would look like. As it was, he sat in the chair without moving—without even blinking. The only change was that the blood drained out of his face.

  Byron waited. He supposed this was always going to happen—sooner or later Chadwick would have found out.

  But he’d kept this part of himself secret for so long—with only Frances knowing anything about his entire relationship with Leona, both the good and the bad—that to announce it felt wrong.

  “Leona Harper?” Chadwick actually sounded a little shaky. “As in, Leon Harper?”

  “She’s his oldest daughter. She has a younger sister, May.”

  Chadwick began to tap one finger against his pant leg faster and faster. “You’re marrying into the Harper family?”

  “I knew you’d freak out.”

  “I am absolutely not freaking out,” Chadwick announced in a too-loud voice. “I’m just— She’s an old girlfriend of yours?”

  “We saw each other for about a year,” Byron admitted. “She knew who I was, but I didn’t make the connection until her father showed up at the restaurant where we both worked. I thought it was over. That’s why I left.”

  “And the baby?”

  “I didn’t know she was pregnant when I left. She didn’t know if I was coming back.”

  Chadwick suddenly leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. “And just so I’m clear on the situation, this is the same woman who’s designing our restaurant?”

  “Yes.” Byron had to make this sound better than it did, so he added, “She cut ties with her father shortly after we broke up. But she’s concerned—legitimately, I think—that Harper might pull some stunt to try to get custody of the baby. That’s why I want to get married as soon as possible—as soon as the ink is dry on the prenup.”

  “Harper,” Chadwick muttered. “Of all the people in the world, you had to go fall for the old goat’s daughter.” His head popped up and he glared at Byron. “Do you have any idea what that man will do when he finds out you’re back?” He shuddered.

  “That’s why we needed the prenup and that’s why I didn’t tell anyone. We need to get married as quietly as possible so Harper can’t screw it up.”

  Chadwick gave him a mean look. “You haven’t told anyone?”

  “Well, Frances and Matthew. But that’s it.” Chadwick continued to glare. “And Leona’s sister, May. She’s been almost like a second mother to the boy. Percy.”

  Chadwick looked hurt. “I see. And you’re sure about this marriage?”

  Byron had learned his lesson with Matthew. He didn’t pause. Pauses were dead giveaways. “I am.”

  Chadwick thought for a moment. “She didn’t tell you who she was? The first time?”

  “No.”

  “And you trust her?”

  Byron hesitated, but only for the blink of an eye. “That’s irrelevant. This is about making sure my son is never taken away from me by anyone—especially Harper.” And that? That was the truth.

  “I want to meet her and this child.” If Chadwick had freaked out—and Byron was sure that he’d deny it until his dying breath—he was back to his normal, authoritative self.

  “Not yet.”

  Chadwick gave him another harsh look. “Not even a family dinner, with Serena and Catherine? I wouldn’t try to scare her.”

  Byron appreciated the sentiment, but he didn’t miss the way Chadwick said try. He explained, “She grew up listening to her father tell horror stories about Hardwick—how he always took the children and left their mothers penniless. She was afraid I would do the same thing to her.”

  “Have you considered that option?”

  “No,” he said forcefully. “She’s not her father. She has no interest in the old feud and I have no interest in using our child as leverage. Whatever happened between Harper and our father is ancient history, as far as we’re concerned. We just want to get on with our lives without Leon or Hardwick’s ghost watching over our shoulders.” Man, that sounded great. He wished he believed it 100 percent.

  But he couldn’t help thinking of the fact that, while Byron was making all sorts of truthful promises that he was here for the long haul, Leona had done very little in the way of reassuring him that she wasn’t hiding anything else from him. First, she hadn’t told him about her last
name. Then she’d kept his son a secret. What else would she be willing to hide?

  Unexpectedly, Chadwick cracked a smile. “We’re all trying to exorcise Hardwick’s ghost, aren’t we?” He shook his head. “First Matthew gets married in secret, and now you. At least make sure your mom is there, okay?”

  Byron felt himself deflate with relief. His mother had never been sure exactly where she stood with Chadwick, but the fact that he was thinking of Jeannie was kind, bordering on sweet. “Are you giving me your blessing?”

  “It’s not mine to give, really.” He stood and put a hand on Byron’s shoulder. “You always were the independent one, going off to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted to. I have to admit, I was jealous that you never got wrapped up in the family drama.”

  Byron stared up at his brother. Chadwick had been jealous of him? “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Trust me, trying to be like Hardwick was nothing but a recipe for disaster. You’ve got to do what you need to be happy.” He grinned. “I think you might have figured that out sooner than the rest of us.”

  “What about you? Are you happy now?”

  Chadwick gave Byron’s shoulder a squeeze and then turned to the door. Before he opened it, he said, “I am. If you marry her—”

  “I will.”

  “—then we’ll stand behind you. You, Leona and the baby will have the full support of the Beaumont family if Harper tries anything.”

  Byron let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Out of all his siblings, he’d figured Chadwick would have pushed the hardest to take a Beaumont baby away from anyone Harper. After all, Leon had come after Chadwick the hardest.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  Chadwick gave him another uncharacteristic grin. It was so weird to see that man smiling regularly. “You’re welcome. That’s what family is for. And make sure we have your new address.” He opened the door but paused. The smile fell away and once again, Byron was looking at a stone-cold businessman. “But don’t make me regret it.”