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Authors: Rachel Bailey

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“I'm sorry, princess,” he said tightly.

Her eyes flared wide and her arms dropped to her sides. “Why are you sorry?”

“Your career is in tatters, everything is a mess.”
He'd made it into a mess.
“And it was all for nothing.”

“It wasn't for nothing,” she said, her delicate hand reaching to cup his cheek. “You finally know who your father was. You'd always wanted to know that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to give in to the rage now that he had some control over it. “I preferred not knowing to finding out it was this monster.”

“There's something else I should tell you,” she said tentatively.

His shoulders stiffened. What else could there possibly be? “Go on.”

She took a small step back and folded her arms under her breasts. “It wasn't a coincidence I had this account.”

“Warner gave it to you?” He eyed her sharply. “Did he know of our involvement?” He wouldn't put it past that twisted man to try and manipulate people from beyond the grave.

“I don't think he knew.” Her forehead creased as she considered. “At least there was nothing in the reports about me.”

“So why do you have it?” he asked warily.

“I asked for it,” she said, and drew in a shaky breath. “Lobbied for it, actually.”

His jaw slackened as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. The betrayal slugged him right in the solar plexus. “You
knew?

“I suspected,” she said, wincing. “You mother slipped once over lunch and mentioned the name Warner. It's not a common name and the first Warner who came to mind was powerful enough to keep Theresa on the run over the years. So I did a little digging.”

He shoved his fingers through his hair and forced
himself to relax. Pia hadn't known, merely suspected. Not a betrayal. “Did she know you were doing that?”

“I never said a word. But I found out she worked in the Bramson Holdings' secretarial pool about the time you were conceived. It wasn't much, and purely circumstantial, but enough to convince me I could be right.”

He sank his hands into his pockets. He had to be missing something here. “But still, why take on the case?”

“I thought…hoped, I could do something. For Theresa, and for you.” She drifted over to a framed photo of his mother on a shelf and picked it up, touching the glass with a finger.

He moved behind her and looked down at the photo she held. It was one of his favorite snapshots—his mother laughing at something he'd said. Even with everything she'd had to cope with, she always made sure he'd never felt the strain she'd been under. The woman deserved a medal.

He looked back at Pia—she'd also tried to help, but taking on his father's will and estate was at best misguided. “What could you have done?”

Shrugging one shoulder, she replaced the photo but didn't meet his eyes. “I nudged a few times on the question of heirs. Asked if there was the possibility of other children we needed to allow for when we drew up the will.”

He choked out a laugh. “He denied it, of course. Point-blank denied my existence.”

She nodded. Didn't need to say the words. “I'm sorry,” she said, then chewed down on her bottom lip. “I know this seems like I was sticking my nose into your family business, but—”

“But you were trying to help my mother,” he finished for her. A week ago he might have been more upset about the interference. But between the media stalking them
and discovering his father was a monster who'd tracked him through years of childhood and never lifted a finger to help, he couldn't work up too much steam for this as well.

“Yes,” she said weakly.

He rubbed a hand across his chin, looking for his equilibrium. “I can't fault your motives, but I wish you'd come to me instead of setting off on your own.”

“We weren't on friendly terms, JT.”

She was right—would he have even spoken with her a year ago? His cell rang in his pocket. His gut clenched. Could it be worse timing? He'd turn the damn thing off and let it take messages. But as he fished it out, he saw his office's private line and his heart sank.

“I have to take this,” he said, glancing up at Pia. “It's my secretary and I told her to only call if it was urgent.”

Pia smiled her understanding and walked over to Winston who was perched on a vacant shelf in the bookcase. JT watched her draw the cat to her chest and felt a stab of jealousy over the easy way she cuddled him. He rolled his eyes—things were sad if he was jealous of a feline.

Bracing an arm against the wall, he thumbed the talk button. “Hello, Mandy.”

“I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Hartley, but there's something new on the internet news that I thought you'd want to know.”

Still watching Pia and Winston, he shook his head. Probably his half brothers crowing over their win. “It's okay, Mandy, I know about the loss of standing—”

“Mr. Hartley, they're saying Ms. Baxter is pregnant. By you.”

He swore and covered his eyes with a hand as the world crowded in on him.

 

Pia grabbed her ringing cell from her bag, just as she heard JT let loose an oath. Her screen showed Seth Kentrell. In her rush to leave the office, she'd forgotten to tell him and Ryder Bramson that she wouldn't be around. At least this should be a quick call.

She answered, plastering a professional smile on her face so it would come through in her voice. “Mr. Kentrell, I should have told you before, but I'm on leave as of today. All issues need to go through Linda Adams now.”

“Maternity leave?” he asked, his tone giving nothing away.

She gasped, and Winston, always sensitive to changes, jumped down. How had Seth found out? And more important, how much did he know?

“Ah, yes,” she stammered. “It is.”

“I saw a report on the web claiming you're pregnant. It's Hartley's, isn't it? I guess that's what you meant by a conflict of interests.”

Panic swirled through her body and perspiration broke out on her forehead. Her eyes flicked to JT as he listened to his secretary, the same look of shell shock on his face that she felt inside. He'd heard it, too. It appeared there was no way to contain this. Only one course of action remained. “Mr. Kentrell, I am very sorry. I can explain—”

“No need,” he said, dismissing her apology. “I merely wanted to let you know I'm impressed with your integrity.”

There was no sarcasm in his tone, but there could be no other reason for this call than censure. “Again, I'm sorry.”

“You had a chance to destroy those PI reports, Pia. The father of your baby would still have a claim—one we were pretty sure he'd win.”

Her lips parted as she finally understood his meaning—
he really
had
called to commend her ethics—but then she frowned. “I didn't have a choice.”

“We always have choices. You could have protected him.”

“By destroying evidence? That's a crime.” The very thought of it made her shudder.

“If he'd won, some of the money could have filtered down to your child,” Seth persisted.

Violate her ethics for money? Her spine straightened. “I'm simply not built that way.”

“I can see that,” Seth said, warm approval in his voice. “Previously, I had a good opinion of you, but you've just shot up in my estimation. If you ever need anything, you let me know.”

“I appreciate it,” she said, a little dazed, and hung up.

JT had already ended his call and watched her from his spot on the carpet, his back against the wall. “Seems the word is out,” he said mildly, belying the tension around his eyes.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a breath. The ramifications of this news breaking publicly were too far reaching to even comprehend, starting with Theresa Hartley—

Her heart swooped. “JT, your
mother
.”

His eyes closed and he swore again. Then he reached for his cell and dialed, and she tapped out her parents' number on her own phone.

An hour later, Pia was reeling. She sank down onto the couch near JT and watched him stretch his arms over his head. The fabric of his cotton business shirt pulled taut against his torso and her breath caught. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch the muscular lines, she turned away.

“How did your calls go?” he asked.

Tiring, she thought, and sighed. “My parents were
disapproving and self-righteous. So nothing unusual there. How was your mother?”

He grimaced. “Worried about the media coverage. Thrilled about the baby. Worried that you'll break my heart again. Thrilled that you're back on the scene.” A weary, crooked grin spread across his face. “She's compared every girl I've ever had on my arm to you.”

Theresa was lovely. Pia smiled. One of the best things to come from this pregnancy was formalizing her relationship with Theresa for life.

You'll love your Grandma Theresa, little one.

She looked back at JT, curiosity getting the best of her. “Have there been many girls on your arm?”

“None for more than three or four nights.” He said the words simply—no trace of shame or pride, merely stating the facts.

At the restaurant, he'd said he preferred to keep things uncomplicated with women, and she'd assumed from that he didn't let them close. But this was something different again. She'd imagined two or three long-term girlfriends kept at an emotional arm's length, not a string of women who weren't even around long enough to call it a relationship.

“You haven't had a relationship since we broke up?” she asked tentatively.

“I learned I'm not fond of relationships. Thanks for that insight, by the way.” His eyes weren't bitter; in fact, they held wry amusement.

She didn't smile back—how could she when the future held no chance of bonds forming with his half brothers, no wife and family apart from their baby? Everything inside her
ached
for JT to be happy in his life.

“Surely you'll have a long-term relationship someday?”

“Never again,” he said with certainty, then changed the subject. “Who were your other calls?”

“One was Ted Howard, my boss.”

“Checking up on you?” he asked.

“Firing me.” She flinched as she said it, but was thankful for small mercies—having the same conversation in person would have been a hundred times harder. Seeing the disappointment in Ted's eyes as he expressed his regrets on how things had turned out when he'd had such high hopes for her future. Having to walk away, then through the firm's corridors instead of simply hanging up.

JT's face darkened. “He fired you?”

“He's in damage control.” She couldn't blame Ted. Her actions had put him in a tight corner and he'd had to act. “Every person in the city knows I slept with you and that I'm pregnant. His clients were demanding he fire me or they'd walk.”

“I'm sorry, Pia,” he said, voice ragged.

She shrugged one shoulder, trying for nonchalance but likely failing. “He had no choice. He also pointed out that I'd probably have to go interstate to practice law when I'm ready to go back to work.”

He reached for her hand and held it firmly. “It'll blow over. People will forget.” His tone was reassuring but his eyes held doubt.

“Lawyers have long memories. Partners at other firms will feel they can never trust me.” And if she started over somewhere else, then any gains she'd made on her professional reputation would be lost. She'd been
so
close to making partner, and now her legal career was back at square one. Law might not have been her first choice of a profession, but she'd thrown everything she had into it. And fallen short.

“You can work for me,” JT said decisively. “I have a large legal department.”

Despite being touched by his white knight attempt, she grinned at the irony. “Oh yeah, that's the solution. Intertwine our lives even more because it's worked out so well this far.”

He chuckled, his face relaxing for the first time since she'd walked in the door. “I guess you're right. But listen, don't worry about money and the baby. I swear I'll always make sure you're both provided for.”

She had no doubt of that. He was nothing like his father—JT would never leave her and the baby to struggle, she knew that in her heart. He was a good man, JT Hartley. Yet fate had dealt him an unfair blow today in destroying his chances to claim against his father's will. She needed to do something to rectify that.

And suddenly she knew exactly what to do.

Twelve

P
ia sat in Ryder Bramson's large office, moonlight streaming in through the tall windows. Her pulse echoed through her body on every beat as she looked around at the gathered people. Ryder sat to her right, holding tight to Macy's hand. Seth was opposite them, his arm around April.

The office vibrated with the tension of people who rarely sat in the same room. As far as she knew, Ryder and Seth had only joined forces once—against JT. At the thought of JT, her heart lit a stubborn flame. She'd told him she needed to go out and he hadn't questioned her, had merely arranged for the security guards to accompany her and checked she had her phone. He'd said he had an appointment of his own. She'd left and quickly made the calls to organize this meeting. Luckily everyone had been able to make it on short notice.

Her hands trembled in her lap. This could either go well
or end in disaster—and she'd lose the good will of the only business people left in New York who trusted her. But she was willing to gamble the remnants of her professional reputation. For JT. For the future of their child.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming.”

Ryder nodded. “We owed you. Telling us about the private investigator reports despite your connections to Hartley took integrity.”

“Not to mention the heads-up you gave us the day his challenge was lodged,” Seth added.

Macy smiled encouragingly. “But you said on the phone you're not working for that firm anymore?”

“No,” Pia said. “They fired me.” It'd only been a few hours ago, but already the sting was wearing off. In its place was a feeling strangely similar to…freedom.

“What?” Ryder said at the same time Seth said, “There's a job working for me, anytime you want it.”

Pia's eyes stung with tears at the unexpected job offer and its implicit support. These men—JT's brothers—were magnificent, noble men. Like JT himself.

“Thank you,” she said and meant it. “But I didn't ask for a meeting to discuss my employment.”

Ryder leaned forward in his chair. “Perhaps you should tell us why you did request it, then.”

She nodded and drew in a shaky breath. Showtime. She had one chance at this, to get it right. If things didn't go to plan, their resistance would deepen and prevent a second opportunity. There was no room for failure.

“Ryder,” she said, looking him in the eye, “Macy is what? Seven months pregnant?”

“Six,” he said with a glow lighting him from within. He turned to Macy and a look passed between them of such love and beauty that Pia's heart ached.

“Tell me,” Pia said, finding her voice again, “what would you do for that baby?”

As his chest expanded, Ryder's eyes took on a formidable glint. “She's the most important thing in the world. I'd do anything for her.”

Pia's glaze flicked to Macy. Ryder had said “her.”

“You're having a girl?”

Macy placed a hand over her swollen belly. “Yes, we are. Georgia.”

A ball of emotion lodged in Pia's throat. She had a scan booked for next week when she'd find out her baby's gender and suddenly, she was desperate to know. But more than knowing the sex of the baby, she wished she had with JT what Macy had with Ryder. JT had been to her appointments and was more supportive than a woman could hope, but she wanted it
all.
She wanted breakfasts together and nights in his bed. She wanted to see his face light up when he was happy and comfort him when he was down. She wanted to be held in his arms and to have more of his children.

Oh, God, she
loved
him.

The earth tilted to the side. Loved him as much as she ever had. More—it was rooted deep in her heart. How had she kept herself blind to this?

“Pia, are you all right?” Macy asked.

“Sorry,” she said, gathering herself with great effort and focusing back on the plan, then turning to Seth. “Forgive me, but would it be intrusive to ask if you and April plan on children?”

With eyebrows raised, Seth looked to April, who nodded assent. “Yes, we're planning on having children,” he said.

Pia couldn't restrain a sentimental smile. Whether this plan worked or not, more cousins for her baby were being planned right this minute. She laced her fingers and met
Seth's gaze again. “When you have those babies, how far do you think you would go for them?”

Seth didn't hesitate. “No limits—a father should put his children first. Always act in their best interests.” His eyes hardened. “If I learned nothing else from my childhood, it's that children should never be treated as afterthoughts.”

Ryder's eyes flashed as he met his half brother's midnight-blue gaze. The air was suddenly electric, resonating with power, with understanding. Pia had a feeling that they'd just connected in a way they never had before. There was silence in the room, as if everyone was aware that something fundamental had changed.

“Thank you for your honesty,” she finally said to Seth. Then she looked at each man in turn. “I've been working with and watching your family for some time now. Seen the pressures you're under, seen some of the challenges you face, and if you'll excuse the audacity—” she drew in a lungful of air “—your father didn't support and protect either of you, the way you will your children. Although he made sure you had the things you needed while you were growing up, he put you in difficult circumstances all your lives, then pitted you against each other with his will.”

The room was still, as if no one could quite believe she'd said the words aloud.
She
couldn't believe she'd said them, and just prayed this hadn't made things worse between the brothers. She saw Seth's eyes flick to Ryder, then away again, and Ryder look down at where his daughter was cradled in Macy's womb. Macy squeezed his hand, but still no one spoke, so Pia plunged on into the void.

“And he did even worse by JT. He followed his firstborn son's progress from the time he was a little boy, during the nomadic life his mother was forced to lead, and all through his troubled teens. Warner was aware of the struggle that Theresa Hartley had as a single mother and yet he did
nothing. Less than nothing—he was so set on keeping JT out in the cold that he paid an investigator to keep track of them for decades, making sure they weren't a threat to him rather than try to offer the tiniest bit of help.”

Ryder's brows shot up. “Does Hartley know you're doing this?”

“No, he doesn't,” she said, praying JT would understand when she told him. She looked at the thoughtful look on each man's face, could see the likeness to JT in the expressions on their faces, the pensive narrowing of their eyes. They were obviously thinking about her words, weighing them—the same way JT did when she challenged him. At least they weren't dismissing her out of hand. Her heart squeezed painfully with a tiny glow of hope.

“I'm having JT's baby and I know he'll do everything in his power to ensure our child has a good life—the same way that you'll both do for your children. You're good men. The three of you. You're not like your father. Warner spent his whole life keeping you all isolated in different ways.”

As she watched them, tears in her eyes, Pia felt a tightness across her belly. She waited, holding her breath, but there was no other sensation, so she relaxed again.

She gathered her thoughts and looked back to them. “Please don't let his death compound that wrong. I want my baby to know its family.
All
of its family.”

“So do I.” Macy ran a hand over her belly as she stood. She crossed to Pia and hugged her.

“Me too, Pia,” April said, joining them. Then she whispered in Pia's ear, “Thank you.”

Pia felt a tear run down her cheek. These strong, loving women would make sure her baby would know its cousins. And hopefully one day that would pave the way for JT to have a relationship with his brothers. He didn't want her love, but she could give him this.

They turned to look at the two men still seated who eyed each other warily, like two lions circling. Pia held her breath and had the sense that Macy and April were doing the same. Then the men nodded almost infinitesimally, in some male code.

“We're outnumbered,” Seth murmured, a wry smile on his lips.

“And outgunned,” Ryder said. “But they're right. Maybe it is time to bury the hatchet.”

Seth sighed and nodded. “Maybe it's past time.” He stood and held out his hand. “To be frank, it was never our hatchet.”

Ryder took the offered hand and shook once before sitting back down. “Besides, I've a hankering to meet our brother. I'm suddenly more of a family man than I realized.”

Macy smiled broadly, her arm still around Pia. “And JT must be someone very special—Pia loves him.”

A spasm flashed across Pia's belly again and she gasped. April touched her arm and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Pia shrugged one shoulder, telling herself that it wasn't a problem, wasn't like fourteen years ago, but her heart was racing. “I'm fine. I've just been having some twinges.”

“It's probably Braxton-Hicks contractions,” Macy said, reassuringly.

“I think you're right.” She
hoped
she was right.

They moved back to their chairs, then another twinge hit and panic flared in every nerve and cell of her body. Her hands went to her stomach, terrified that she knew what it meant. This couldn't be happening. It was too early.
Too early.
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. Darkness and memories of that night fourteen years ago threatened to
engulf her, but she struggled to keep her head above them, to keep control of her mind so she could protect her baby.

Macy put an arm around her shoulders.

Pia didn't even try to hide her fear. “I lost JT's baby once before. It was at the same point, and there's a risk it'll happen again.”
No,
she wanted to scream.
Don't let this happen.

Ryder was on his feet and behind his desk. “I'll get an ambulance.”

Seth reached for Pia's cell, where it lay beside her bag. “I'll call Hartley.”

 

Two hours later, Pia was in a hospital bed, undergoing tests, more terrified than she'd been since she was sixteen. They hadn't been able to reach JT—his cell was switched off, and his secretary had refused to disclose his whereabouts to his half brothers. Her gaze darted around the stark room, her heart fluttering against her ribs. She'd been trying to hold her fears in check, but it was only the flimsiest of barricades that prevented them from flooding her. Seth and Ryder were out in the waiting room, and April and Macy had stayed with her, but she wanted only JT. His voice would soothe her more than the doctors' calm smiles, his presence would lend her more strength than Macy and April's carefully chosen words.

JT, where are you?

There was a sharp knock at the door and Seth's head appeared. April slipped over to him for a whispered conversation, then came rushing back and turned on the small television.

A reporter's face filled the screen. “As I said before the break, we've managed to secure an exclusive interview with the elusive JT Hartley, the man who staked a claim
to the biggest will of the year, only to lose the case within days. Welcome, Mr. Hartley.”

Pia's jaw dropped open. This
had
to be wrong—JT hated the media. He'd never grant a television interview…would he?

The screen flicked to the guest and JT appeared, looking calm and charming, but she could see the steel in his eyes. She blinked once, then again, but he was still there on the screen. What was he doing?

“Good evening,” JT said, his voice sexy-low and smooth.

“Can we start with your rumored relationship with the executor of Warner Bramson's estate? Is it true she's pregnant with your baby?”

Pia's skin chilled—why had JT opened himself, them, to
this
?

But JT seemed unruffled by the hardball question. “It's true she's pregnant,” he said, gaze solemn and trustworthy, “but Pia Baxter is no longer the executor of the estate. In fact, she was fired in a case of trial by media.”

The journalist's eyes became even brighter at this unexpected development. “She was fired?”

“People were concerned she may have acted unethically because of her relationship to me, but I have to tell you, Jimmy,” the camera came in for a close-up on JT's unwavering eyes, “I've never met anyone in my life as principled as Pia Baxter.”

“But she's pregnant, isn't she? With your baby. And you were a claimant to the will.”

JT eased back in his chair, all effortless grace, seemingly in his element, but she knew this would be torture for him. “Let me give you an example. Despite our situation, when Pia found paperwork that proved Warner Bramson knew I was his son, she took that information straight to his heirs.”

The journalist's eyes lit with glee. “
She's
the one who ended your claim? Robbed her own baby's father of—potentially—millions of dollars?”

JT tilted his head in assent. “It was the right thing to do. I've come to realize that Pia always does what's right, even if it's difficult, or if other people can't understand at the time.”

Pia felt tears sliding down her face and absently brushed at them.

“So why are you speaking out now?” Jimmy asked. “After you've lost the claim.”

JT leaned forward, as if letting Jimmy and the audience in on a secret. “To set the record straight. Pia Baxter has done the right thing, in tough circumstances, and she deserves recognition for that.”

Understanding dawned and her body went limp. He was doing this for
her
. Publicly exposing himself for her career. That sweet, gorgeous fool.

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