Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby (12 page)

Dropping the covers like they were a nest of wriggling vipers, she jerked back, eyes wide.

Behind her, she heard a creak and turned to find Trevor waltzing through the open bedroom door. His hair was still short and brown, and he was wearing the same suit he’d left the house in earlier that morning.

He grinned at her, sweeping up to press a quick, hard kiss to her lips. His hand at the base of her spine was firm and possessive, and even with the cold reality of what was lying in the bed beside them, it warmed her.

“I thought I’d pick you up for dinner instead of making you drive back to the Ridge by yourself. Besides, it’s easier to drop off my briefcase now than remember to pick it up later on our way out.”

Licking her lips and removing probably half of the lip gloss she’d just painstakingly applied, she did her best to find her voice.

“Really?” she asked. “You didn’t come home early for a little afternoon delight?”

His grin turned into a full-blown leer. “I hadn’t, but if you’re offering…” He tipped his left wrist to check the time. “Our reservations aren’t until seven, and one of the many perks of being a Jarrod is that we can be late and still get a table.”

He leaned in, going for another kiss, but she quickly sidestepped, moving farther away from him. His hand dropped from her back and his smile slipped, sliding downward into the beginnings of a frown.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I wasn’t talking about me.” She cocked her head toward the bed. “I meant Goldilocks over there.”

His eyes darted to the lump under the covers that was just starting to wiggle around and wake up. In three long strides, he reached the bed and stretched out an arm to whip back the sheets and spread.

A long, lithe form with curly red hair and wearing only a matching hot-pink bra and high-cut underwear blinked thick lashes and rolled from her side to her back. Her lips curved when she spotted Trevor.

“Hi, baby. Hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.”

That was all Haylie needed to hear. Or maybe all she could stand to hear without becoming ill or violent, or both.

Spinning on her heel, she marched from the room. Of course, by the time she got downstairs, she wasn’t sure what to do.

She could have stormed out, climbed back into the Escalade that didn’t belong to her and drive away…but where would she go? Jarrod Ridge? Home to Denver? A local hotel? Any of those options would require returning to the resort to pick up Bradley, at the very least.

But deep down she knew she wasn’t going to do any of those things. She also knew she didn’t really have a right to be upset at all.

What business was it of hers if Trevor had another woman in his bed? If he had a dozen Playboy bunny girlfriends on the side?

She and Trevor might be sleeping together—a decision she’d known from the outset wasn’t the wisest move of her life—but no one had ever said their relationship was an exclusive one. In fact, they hadn’t called it a relationship at all.

And she’d known his reputation with women, known he had a girl in every port, so to speak. Could she even be surprised that one had popped up out of the blue? Although, it would have been nice if this particular flavor of the month hadn’t popped up in his bed while Haylie was still sharing it with him, but that was the risk one ran, she supposed, when one chose to take up with Colorado’s most notorious ladies’ man.

Which meant Haylie needed to get over it. Stop acting like a jilted lover, a jealous spouse.

But just because logic was winning out over raw, knee-jerk emotion didn’t mean she could shed the physical effects of her upset quite as easily. Her heels click-clacked on the polished hardwood floors as she stalked to the giant stone fireplace. It was cold now, empty, but she didn’t care.

Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she slowly began to pace. Not out of anger, exactly, but more to burn off the excess energy still thrumming through her bloodstream and give her something to do while she waited for…whatever she was waiting for.

Though she doubted she and Trevor would end up going to dinner now, she was overdressed for anything else. And even going back upstairs to hide in her room wasn’t an option because she was too afraid of running into Trevor and his copper-haired bimbo along the way.

So she stayed where she was, wearing a path in front of the fireplace until she heard footsteps upstairs, moving closer. Bracing herself for what was to come, she dropped her arms and tried to look as casual and unruffled as possible.

The woman was fully dressed again, though parts of her silver lamé jumpsuit looked like it was painted on. Her hair was piled on top of her head like a giant, flamered crown, and big, chunky jewelry graced her neck and wrists. Haylie was sure the outfit was the height of fashion, but she looked a bit like a stowaway from the disco era. Her makeup was also smudged in places, and every few steps she would sniff, then wipe at her nose as though she’d been crying.

Trevor, on the other hand, was the picture of stoicism as they made their way down the stairs, single file. He kept one hand on the railing, the other in his trouser pocket and his gaze firmly on Haylie.

Haylie watched them move through the house to the front door, watched the woman turn on her go-go booted toe to flash doe eyes at Trevor and run a manicured fingertip down the center of his chest over his navy-blue tie.

“Are you sure, Trev-Trev?” the redhead murmured in a clear pout. Her lips were pursed in a deep frown, her lashes batting fast enough to cause a draft.

To his credit, Trevor didn’t respond to the woman’s flirtations, except to grasp her hand and very firmly move it back to her side. “I’m sure. Have a safe flight, Isabelle.”

With that, he opened the door and saw her out.

Haylie didn’t want to believe that the woman’s departure could affect her one way or another, but as soon as the door closed behind Isabelle with a click, a wave of relief washed over Haylie. But only because it meant there would be no ugly arguments, no petty confrontations. Right? Certainly not for any other reason.

Pushing away from the front door, Trevor started walking slowly in her direction.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That definitely wasn’t how I intended this evening to begin.”

“That’s all right,” Haylie responded, ever so proud that her voice came out steady and sure. “It’s none of my business who you invite into your bed.”

Okay, so that didn’t sound quite as detached and aloof as she might have hoped.

Halting in front of her, he cocked his head, lifting a hand to the side of her face. “I didn’t invite her,” he said softly. “At least not recently. We dated a while back, and I guess she was hoping we could strike things up again.”

“Since she had a key to your house, I guess she wasn’t far off the mark.”

His lips quirked up in an indulgent half smile, and Haylie locked her jaw, telling herself to keep her mouth shut before he started to take her comments as a sign of jealousy.

“She knows where I keep a spare, though I’m thinking I should probably change that now. And she only climbed into my bed to wait for me because she was tired. She’s a model and just flew in from her last shoot in Paris.”

A model. Of course. Haylie should have guessed as much from the woman’s perfect body, perfect hair, and how perfect she’d looked standing next to Trevor, all tall and lovely and photo-ready.

Haylie’s aversion must have shown on her face because Trevor gave a low chuckle and brushed his knuckles across the line of her jaw. “Don’t worry, I sent her away. For good. She won’t be bothering us again.”

Haylie would have been lying if she hadn’t felt a small thrill at his words. But the reality of the situation was close behind, reminding her that she didn’t belong here, and that today’s Sleeping Beauty was only the first in a long string of women Trevor had wrapped around his pinky and was dangling like marionettes from his fingertips.

Licking her lips, Haylie whispered, “There is no us. Not really.”

Rather than draw away, as she’d expected, a tiny, bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. “At the moment, there is. And I’m not going to let a surprise visit from a presumptuous runway model ruin that or our plans for the evening. Now,” he said in a firmer tone, retreating a step, “are you still interested in dinner at Chagall’s or would you prefer to stay in?”

Haylie’s first instinct was to say “neither.” His uninvited guest had been like a splash of cold water, startling her out of her warm but misleading cocoon.

Even though she’d warned herself not to, she’d grown comfortable under Trevor’s roof. Sharing his bed. Moving through his world as though she belonged there. Sticking her head in the sand and letting the fantasy of living in Aspen, with all that it encompassed, carry her away.

On the other hand, maybe Isabelle’s impromptu arrival was exactly what Haylie needed to remind her not to get too comfortable with her current circumstances.

She couldn’t leave, because she’d promised Trevor she would stick around until the paternity results came through. And by agreeing to arrange Erica’s wedding, she’d sort of inadvertently agreed to stay through the Christmas holiday, hadn’t she?

It certainly wouldn’t do for the wedding planner to up and run off before the actual nuptials. Especially over something as unreasonable as discovering that her temporary (and accidental, really) lover had other girlfriends. Not when she’d known from the very beginning that he was the playboy type. How hypocritical it would be of her to get upset now simply because she’d been slapped in the face by the flesh-and-blood evidence of his true nature.

So she couldn’t leave Aspen because she’d given her word, and she couldn’t stomp off in a snit because she didn’t have a right to be in a snit. And either way, Bradley still needed to be picked up from the resort’s day-care center.

Taking a deep breath, Haylie forced her mouth to curve in a smile. And, really, it wasn’t that difficult. Not once she’d put things into proper perspective.

Her current situation might not be ideal, not the fairy-tale romance she might have created for herself if she were the author of this story, but it was one she’d walked into with eyes at least moderately wide open. She’d made her bed, so to speak, and until he kicked her out of it or something more significant happened to change her mind, she was going to share that bed with Trevor.

Haylie was unaccountably nervous. It was the Friday before Christmas Eve and a week before Erica and Christian’s Christmas Eve wedding. But more importantly, it was Erica and Christian’s rehearsal dinner, all planned and prepared by Haylie herself.

Which meant it needed to go off without a hitch. Not only because she wanted everything to be perfect for Erica, but also because she took immense pride in the events she organized.

But being in the same room with so many Jarrods was more nerve-racking than she’d anticipated. Especially considering her ongoing affair with Trevor.

Did they know? Had he told any of them, maybe let it slip? Had someone seen them standing a little too close? Speaking a bit too intimately? Acting too familiarly with one another?

What if they could tell, just by looking at Haylie, that she spent her nights in his bed, making love with him in a thousand different ways? Wonderful, amazing ways. Ways that she was going to miss and long for once she left Aspen and went back to Denver.

Did her cheeks flush when she glanced in his direction? Did she stammer in response when someone asked her how she was enjoying her time at Jarrod Ridge?

Her only hope was that even though everyone in the room knew Trevor quite well, they didn’t really know her, and would perhaps excuse any odd behavior on her part as the simple anxieties of an event planner coming up on the big event.

Although Trevor’s brother Guy had volunteered chefs from the various restaurants to prepare the evening’s meal, the dinner itself was being held on the Manor’s rooftop, at the Sky Lounge, which they’d temporarily closed to guests.

Tables had been arranged and place settings laid out. Soft, romantic instrumental music filtered through the air, wine flowed liberally and members of both the family and wedding party had been mingling for the past half hour.

Haylie was pretty sure she’d met all of the Jarrods now, as well as their significant others. Erica, of course, she was starting to know rather well just from the amount of time they’d spent together the past few weeks. And she’d been introduced to most of the ladies during the spa day Erica had organized.

Now she was also becoming acquainted with more of the men. She’d interacted with Christian and Guy occasionally because of the wedding plans. Then there were Trevor’s brothers Gavin and Blake, and Melissa’s fiancé, Shane McDermott.

Thankfully, she was good with faces and names—it was sort of a necessity in her line of work—otherwise, she suspected it would have all been very confusing.

At a signal from the kitchen staff, she started strolling through the room, asking everyone to please make their way to the table, where dinner was about to be served. Normally, once that was done, she would quietly slip into the background again, keeping an eye on the party, but also coordinating with the kitchen to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Tonight, however, she was pulling double duty as both hostess and guest. At Erica’s insistence that she join them, and Trevor’s reassurance that her presence was more than welcome, there was a place set for her near the end of the long, cloth-draped table, directly on Trevor’s left. This would allow her to be involved in the dinner party, but also to jump up and make a quick escape if she was needed elsewhere.

For the first time all evening, Haylie let herself take a deep breath and relax as napkins were placed on laps and the waitstaff began to serve the salad course. So far, the party had gone off without a hitch. Everyone seemed happy, and everything was going exactly as planned.

To her right, Trevor was dressed in a stylish, dark blue suit with a lighter blue tie that made him once again look as if he should be posing for the covers of magazines. Of course, that was true no matter what he wore—a business suit, jeans and sweater or worn flannel pajama bottoms.

Not when he was naked, though. When he was naked, she thought he could grace the cover of a much sexier, much more adult women’s magazine. Just thinking about that—and accidentally letting herself picture him as she’d last seen him gloriously naked—made her breath catch in her lungs.

Since the night one of his model ex-girlfriends had decided to play Goldilocks by climbing into his bed uninvited, Haylie had done a much better job of compartmentalizing her responsibilities and her feelings. She’d let him take her to dinner at Chagall’s, taken pleasure in the evening as though it were a real date, and put thoughts of all his other women out of her head.

Not the smartest choice, perhaps, but it was the one she’d made and the one she’d come to terms with. Despite the Goldilocks incident, Trevor had done nothing, said nothing, to make her think he was seeing another woman—or women—while she was sharing his bed and his home.

She had no illusions that she and Trevor had a future together, but she’d given herself permission to pretend, just for a little while, that the future didn’t exist. To enjoy the short time she did have with him and push everything else away.

Call it denial. Call it delusional. She preferred to think of it as walking on the wild side for once in her otherwise very prim and proper life.

Heather had always been the carefree one in their family. The happy-go-lucky risk taker, while Haylie was the careful, staid sister. Heather had gone through men like cold sufferers go through tissues. Haylie had dated maybe ten different men in her entire adult life…and some of those had been one-time encounters over nothing more than coffee.

Trevor was like her get-out-of-jail free card. Letting herself get involved with him wasn’t smart, it wasn’t practical…but it was going to be a memory she pulled out on all of those cold, lonely, dateless winter nights to come.

So she was going to enjoy him, dammit. Without feeling guilty, without second-guessing herself. And hopefully, when the fantasy came to a screeching halt, she wouldn’t end up too damaged, either physically or emotionally.

Beside her, Trevor smiled and reached beneath the table to pat her knee. Which would have been fine, except he left his hand there, his thumb gently rubbing her stocking-clad thigh.

So much for relaxing. His touch made her the very opposite of relaxed, causing all of her nerve endings to buzz like live wires.

If they weren’t careful, someone was going to notice that something was going on between them. Or more to the point, if she wasn’t careful. Trevor was completely calm, completely unruffled, looking no different than at any other time, while she felt as though her face was a kaleidoscope of emotions for the whole world to see.

She was so wrapped up in the uneven beat of her heart and the pounding of her pulse in her veins that she missed the first several minutes of conversation at the table. It wasn’t until she heard the word wedding that her brain kicked in and began functioning properly, reminding her that she was on the clock and needed to be awake and alert to her clients every whim.

Whoever had mentioned the wedding, though, wasn’t talking about Christian and Erica’s upcoming nuptials. They were grilling Trevor’s brother Guy and his fiancée, Avery, about their plans. From what Haylie gathered, the two of them had been involved for quite some time, and the family was beginning to wonder why they hadn’t tied the knot yet. Or perhaps pressuring them to get the show on the road already.

Across from her, Haylie noticed a rosy flush climbing toward Avery’s hairline.

“Actually, we haven’t gotten around to making any wedding plans yet,” Guy responded in a low tone, pointedly taking Avery’s hand and twining his fingers with hers on the table between them. “And…well, we’ve been keeping it under wraps, but now that we’ve discovered we’re expecting, we may have to put it off a while longer.”

It took a brief second for Guy’s words to sink in, a moment in which the entire lounge was eerily silent, given the number of people occupying the room. But a second after that, chaos erupted. Cheers and high-pitched feminine shrieks of joy mixed together as several family members rose from their chairs and circled the table to surround the happy couple, offering hugs and hearty handshakes.

Haylie stayed in her seat, part of the dinner party, but not really part of the family revelry. Once everyone had returned to their spots, she offered her congratulations and said, “If there’s anything I can do to help with the wedding plans—when you are ready to plan something, that is—I hope you’ll let me know.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Avery breathed in what could only be described as acute relief, lifting her free hand to her chest. “I have to admit, I really would like to be married before this pregnancy becomes too obvious, but the whole idea is so overwhelming, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I felt the same way,” Erica put in from her place beside Christian at the head of the table. “But Haylie is amazing. She thought of everything, and then took care of it all before I even had a chance to get stressed. It’s been so nice to be able to sit back and relax, letting someone else do the work and the worrying for me.”

With a chuckle, she added, “Sorry, Haylie, but it’s true. You’ve been a lifesaver.”

Haylie offered the bride-to-be a genuine smile. “My pleasure. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Well, that and determining Bradley’s paternity, but sometimes the less said in front of two dozen witnesses, the better.

“Do you think…” Avery paused, biting her lower lip nervously. “Maybe after Erica and Christian’s big day, and you’ve had a chance to take a bit of a breather, could we sit down and chat? You’ve done so much for them on short notice, if you’re not too worn out by then, maybe we could discuss another small, private ceremony for just after the New Year.”

Avery looked to her fiancé for his opinion on the matter, and Guy nodded in agreement. Haylie had a feeling Avery could suggest a speedy elopement and he would have them halfway to Las Vegas before she finished her sentence.

“We won’t rain on your parade, though,” Avery added, leaning forward to glance down the full length of the table at Melissa and Shane, who were also expecting and scheduled to tie the knot on New Year’s Eve.

Haylie wasn’t even sure she would be around after the New Year, but since she’d gotten involved in Erica’s wedding mainly to build her portfolio and hopefully garner even more wealthy clients in the future, it seemed silly not to agree to Avery’s request.

Besides, Haylie was enjoying working with the staff at Jarrod Ridge, and would be happy to do so for a second event. She would even help Trevor’s sister Melissa with her upcoming wedding, if she needed any assistance, but Haylie suspected the plans were pretty well ironed out by now.

“I’d love to,” Haylie said. Then, belatedly realizing she probably should have checked with Trevor before offering her services to yet another member of his immediate family, she added, “If that’s all right with you.”

After all, regardless of what they shared in the wee hours of night, in the privacy of his bedroom, he might not want her around once the DNA tests came back and he knew whether or not he was Bradley’s father.

If he was, he might even want her gone—as in, give me my child and never darken my doorstep again. And if he wasn’t…well, he might feel the same either way.

But his response was quick enough and sure enough that she thought he must be sincere.

“Of course,” Trevor murmured a moment before swinging his attention to his brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Just be sure you’re not stingy when it comes to her fee. I’ve been telling her all month how generous we Jarrods are, and I’d hate to have you ruin our reputation in her eyes by getting married on the cheap.”

The statement was made in a jesting tone, but she suspected there was a note of seriousness underscoring the words as well. She didn’t know whether to be flattered that he was watching out for her…or embarrassed by the attention he was drawing. To her, to him—to them.

“If she makes my Avery happy and does as impressive a job for us as she has for those two,” Guy said, tipping his head in Christian and Erica’s direction, “she can have a blank check. Hell, she can have the whole checkbook.”

Trevor nodded in approval at his brother’s quick, magnanimous response. Leaning toward Haylie, he murmured, “See, I told you we’d make it worth your while to stick around.”

Then he winked and squeezed her knee under the table, making her feel as though a neon sign was hanging over her head flashing the words Sleeping with Trevor Jarrod for the whole world to see. Surely everyone in the room must be thinking that very thing about her.

But before she could burst into flames of mortification, to Haylie’s immense relief, conversation picked up and moved in an entirely different direction. The main course was served, followed by a truly decadent chocolate-caramel-mocha dessert created by Guy himself, and then coffee.

Before she knew it—possibly because she was used to staying behind the scenes rather than being smack in the middle of them—Erica and Christian were standing, thanking everyone for coming and for being a part of their very special day, and then the guests began to leave.

Trevor collected their coats and waited patiently while she ran around making sure everything was cleared away properly and that nothing was left undone. She’d told him he could go home without her, or down to his office to catch up on some of the work she knew he’d fallen behind on ever since she’d shown up and thrown his life into turmoil. But he’d refused, telling her not to be silly, and then promptly seated himself at the bar to finish the glass of scotch he’d nursed all through dinner.