young woman with short black hair and brown eyes sat at a sleek black desk and gave Lilah a friendly smile as she entered. “Hello. I’m Karen, Mr. Hudson’s executive assistant. You must be Ms. Strong. Mr. Hudson’s waiting for you.”
She stood and walked to a pair of double doors. Opening them, she stepped back and Lilah steeled herself before she walked into the lion’s den.
The man’s office was enormous—no doubt designed to impress and intimidate. Mission accomplished, she thought. A wall of glass behind his desk afforded a spectacular view of the ocean, and on her left, the glass wall continued, displaying a bird’s-eye view of Pacific Coast Highway and the crowds that cluttered the street and sidewalks.
The wood floor shone here, too, with the slices of sunlight lying on it sparkling like diamonds. There were several expensive-looking rugs dotting the floor, and the furniture here was less chrome and more dark leather. Still didn’t seem to fit in a Victorian building, but it was less startling to the senses than the first-floor decor. But, Lilah told herself, she wasn’t here to critique the results of what some designer had done to the stately old building. Instead, she was here to face down the man now standing up behind his desk.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what do you know about my sister Spring?”
His voice was deep, rumbling around the room like thunder. He was tall—easily six feet three or four—with thick black hair expensively trimmed to look casual. He wore a black, pin-striped suit and a white dress shirt accented with a red power tie. His shoulders were broad, his jaw square, his eyes green, and as they focused on her, they didn’t look friendly.
Well, she thought, that was fine, since she wasn’t feeling very friendly, either. He was as intimidating as the plush office, and far more attractive—which had nothing to do with anything, she reminded herself.
Still, she was glad she’d taken care with her appearance before this meeting. At home, she went days without even bothering with makeup. Today, she wore her own version of a power suit. Black slacks, red shirt and short red jacket. Her black boots had a two-inch heel, adding to her five-foot-six-inch height. She was as prepared for this meeting as it was possible to be. Which wasn’t saying much.
“I’m Lilah Strong.”
“I was told who you are,” he said. “What I don’t know is why you’re here.”
“Right.” She took a deep breath, then blew it out again. Deliberately striding across the floor in a quick march, she heard her heels click on the wood then soften on the rugs as she approached him. When she was so close she caught a whiff of his aftershave—a subtle scent that reminded her of the forests at home—she stopped. With his wide, black matte desk between them, she looked into his deep green eyes and said, “Spring was my friend. That’s why I’m here. She asked me to do something for her and I couldn’t say no. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“All right.”
That deep voice seemed to reverberate inside her, leaving her more shaken than she wanted to admit. Why was he so gorgeous? Why did the wary look in his eyes seem sexy rather than irritating? And why was she letting an unwanted attraction scatter her thoughts?
“I’m curious.” His gaze flicked briefly to Lilah’s friend before shifting back to her. “Do you usually bring your baby with you to meetings?”
She lifted her chin and glanced down at the baby girl on her left hip. Here was the reason for leaving home, for facing down a man with ice in his eyes. If it had been up to her, Lilah never would have come. She wouldn’t be standing here in Reed Hudson’s office with a ball of cold lead in the pit of her stomach. But this wasn’t her choice and no matter how hard it was, she would do as Spring had asked.
Rosie slapped both hands together and squealed. Lilah’s answering smile faded as she turned her gaze back to the man watching her.
“Rose isn’t my baby,” she said, with more than a twinge of regret as she met his gaze coolly. “She’s yours.”
Instantly, Reed went on red alert.
The cold, dispassionate demeanor that had made him a legend in court dropped over him like a familiar jacket. The woman looking at him as if he were a worm, just slithering out from under a rock, was beautiful but clearly delusional.
Over the years, there had been a few predatory women who’d tried to convince him they were pregnant with his child. But, since he was always careful, he’d been able to get rid of them easily enough. And this woman, he’d never been with. That he was sure of, since a man didn’t forget a woman like this one.
“I don’t have a baby.” The very idea was ludicrous. Given his background, his family, his career, if there was one lesson he’d learned it was don’t build a family of his own. Since he was sixteen, he’d never been without a condom. “If that’s all,” he continued briskly, “you can show yourself out.”
“Nice,” she commented with a slow shake of her head.
The tone of her voice caught his attention. It was just as coolly dismissive as his own. His gaze caught hers and he couldn’t mistake the anger and disdain shining in those clear blue eyes. “Problem?”
“No more than I expected from a man like you,” she countered and bounced a little, as if to entertain the baby babbling on her hip.
“A man like me,” he repeated, curious now. “And you know me, how?”
“I know that you were Spring’s brother and that you weren’t there to help her when she needed it.” Her words rushed out as if flowing on a tide of fury. “I know that when you see a child who looks just like your sister you don’t even ask a question.”
His eyes narrowed. “My sister.”
She huffed out a breath. “That’s what I said.” Briefly, she looked at the baby and her mouth curved slightly. “Her name is Rose and she’s Spring’s daughter.” At the mention of her name, the tiny girl bounced in place and slapped her hands against the woman’s shoulder. “That’s right, Rosie. You’re your mommy’s girl, aren’t you?”
As if in answer, the baby clapped tiny hands and chortled in some weird baby version of a giggle. And while the two of them smiled at each other, Reed shifted his gaze from the lovely woman to the baby in her arms. Spring’s daughter. Now that he knew, now that he wasn’t on automatic defense, he could see his sister’s features, miniaturized on her child. Fine, black hair curling about a rounded face. Eyes so green they shone like emeralds—the same shade as Spring’s.
As his own, come to that.
Instantly, without even being told, he knew his sister was gone. Spring had looked all her life for real love. There wasn’t a chance in hell she ever would have left her daughter if she’d had a choice.
And the baby was clearly a Hudson. Then there was the fact that even in so small a child, he saw the stubborn chin his sister had boasted. Spring had a daughter he’d known nothing about. He understood the woman’s anger now. Her accusation of not being there for Spring when she needed him most. But he would have been, he assured himself silently. If she’d come to him, he’d have—how was it possible that she
