Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel) (3 page)

“Most likely a bill collector,” she almost growled. She tossed down the washcloth and made the short trek to the front of the house just as the oven timer went off. Was bad timing the story of her life? Oh well. She was sure whoever was at the door wouldn’t take too long.

The shocked gaze from the stranger now confronting her reminded her that she must not look her best. But who cared? There was no one in the universe who would call her a good homemaker, so at least with flour in her hair it appeared as if she were trying. If it was another visit from social services, maybe they wouldn’t threaten to take the kids away again.

“Are you Whitney Steele?”

Should she deny it?

The well-dressed man spoke with an accent she couldn’t place. This didn’t bode well.

“Yes.” Her tone of voice clearly told him to make it quick.

“I’m here to deliver a message if you have a moment.” The stranger seemed absurdly formal.

“I don’t have a lot of time, so I’d be grateful if you got to the point,” Whitney said. Her cookies were probably burning already.

“I’m here on behalf of Frederick Felton, the grandfather of your niece and nephew. He’s greatly grieved to learn of the loss of his son, and he wishes to see his grandchildren.”

Whitney looked at him for several heartbeats. What in the world was he talking about?

“Is this some kind of a joke? Because if it is, I don’t think it’s very funny. My niece and nephew have been through hell this last year, and they don’t need to go through anything else. I know for a fact that they have no other family. My brother-in-law said all his family members were deceased.”

“I can assure you, Ms. Steele, that the children’s grandfather is alive, along with their Uncle Liam, and they both wish to see the children.”

Her oven timer continued to beep, and she was torn. Should she simply slam the door in the man’s face and go back to her baking, or invite him in? Good manners won out.

“Step inside, please. I need to take care of that timer.” She turned toward the kitchen just as smoke began filling the air. Another batch of cookies wasted, dammit! She turned back toward the man. “What’s your name? I don’t believe you gave it to me.”

“My name is Mr. Smotter. I’ve worked for Mr. Felton for forty years,” he said proudly.

Whitney wanted to blast him with a brutally mocking remark, but she held herself back. “If you want to continue this conversation, you’ll have to follow me.” With that, she made her way to the kitchen to pull out the blackened cookies and switch on the oven fan. Once that was done, she turned back to the man who had reluctantly followed her.

“Ms. Steele, I don’t have a lot of time here. I would appreciate your attention,” Mr. Smotter informed her.

“Does it look like I have lots of time on my hands, Mr. Smotter?”

He looked away before meeting her gaze again. “I’m sorry to be so rude, ma’am. It’s just that Mr. Felton was unaware of his grandchildren until just a few days ago. He was quite devastated to learn of his son’s death, but elated to learn of the children. He would greatly like to meet them.”

Whitney stared at the man for several more moments and decided that he seemed to be speaking the truth.

“Why would I want to take my niece and nephew to meet a man their father obviously didn’t want them to meet?”

That seemed to throw the man before her off.

“I’m sure it’s nothing more than a family misunderstanding, one that can all be worked out if you meet in person,” he finally replied.

“Where does Mr. Felton live anyway?” she asked as she pulled out a chair at the kitchen island and sat down.

Mr. Smotter stood there stiffly. She didn’t offer him a seat. Hell, she didn’t want him staying long.

“He resides upstate New York.”

“That’s all the way across the country, Mr. Smotter.”

“It’s hardly across the planet, Ms. Steele a simple jet ride.”

“Jet? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Mr. Felton would only provide the best accommodations of travel for his grandchildren,” Mr. Smotter said, and he sniffed with an upturned nose.

She took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I’m sure you have good intentions, Mr. Smotter, but seriously, there’s no way I’m taking these kids across the country to see some man they’ve never even heard of. For all I know it could be a trap.”

“I can assure you there is nothing underhanded going on. I have a packet of information here for you to peruse. You would be guests of Mr. Felton’s and of course wouldn’t be forced to stay against your will,” Mr. Smotter said. He was clearly affronted.

“I still don’t think we’re going to be taking any trips. Why doesn’t he come here himself if he’s so anxious to meet the children?”

That seemed to take Mr. Smotter aback for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

“I’ve been told not to return to New York without Mr. Felton’s grandchildren.”

“Well, I guess you’ll be moving to Oregon, then. I hope you’ll enjoy it here.” Whitney got up from her seat and began ushering him toward the front door.

“Ms. Steele, Mr. Felton isn’t in good health, and this may very well be his last chance to see the children. Please don’t deny him this — not after he just learned of losing his son,” Mr. Smotter said, appealing to her kind heart.

Whitney wanted nothing more than to throw him out without another word, but that wasn’t who she was.

“Okay, Mr. Smotter. I’ll look over your documents — I promise you. But you can tell your boss that I highly doubt we’ll ever meet.”

“Please, at least ask the children,” he said. “I understand you have guardianship over them, but this is their family as well.”

“I told you that I’ll think about it. If I feel that the children should hear about this, I’ll talk to them. They’ve been through a lot, though, and I don’t want to upset them any further. I can’t give you any more than that right now.”

“I understand, Ms. Steele. Please let me know your decision quickly. The holidays are approaching and Mr. Felton, as I told you, is in a weak state right now.”

She didn’t say anything further, just shut the door. She let out a deep breath as she leaned against the sturdy frame. She wasn’t in any way qualified to make the kind of decisions required for Brayden and Ally. She was only twenty-five years old, and it seemed as if something new happened every day, something confirming she wasn’t fit to raise her niece and nephew. She didn’t know what the right decision was.

Her baking was already a lost cause, so she sat back down at the kitchen table to look at the papers Mr. Smotter had left. She’d be completely irresponsible if she didn’t even look through the information. After all, if the kids did have more family out there, didn’t she owe them the chance to get acquainted?

A shudder ran through her as she looked through the paperwork. And then she went to her computer. Her fear intensified as she did her search.

The Feltons appeared to be from old money, and they were in no way hurting. They were multibillionaires out of New York, owners of a media conglomerate.

Who in the world had her sister married?

Why hadn’t Vince told Maxine where he came from? Was he ashamed of his family? Were they horrible people he hadn’t wanted his children to know? Whitney decided that she’d better try to find out a heck of a lot more before the kids got home.

By the time she was finished surfing the Web, she was sitting back in her chair and chewing her nails, wondering what in the world she was going to do. What if this family wanted to keep the kids because they decided she was unfit to raise them? Her niece and nephew seemed to be heirs to a great fortune. Wouldn’t they want to be a part of that life?

But didn’t the rich raise their children coldly, with nannies and in boarding schools? Weren’t her sister’s children better off being raised with love instead of wealth? She wished more than ever before that Maxine was there to guide her, to help her make the right choice. Of course, if Maxine were there, she wouldn’t be faced with this decision.

Finally, she decided that the best thing to do would be to ask the children what they wanted. If they really wanted to see their grandfather, then she’d take them. What else could she do? Her fear of losing them didn’t give her the right to be selfish and keep them all to herself. Life kept dealing her bad cards, but she’d do her best for her and the children to get through it all.

She heard the front door open, and laughter spilled from her niece as Brayden and Ally came rushing around the corner.

“Hi, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said.

“What’s that look for?” As Ally jumped into her lap, Whitney held her close to her chest, so afraid she was about to lose this beloved child and her dear brother.

“I have a present for you, Auntie,” Ally told her, giggling in her delight.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful! Do I get to open it now?”

“No, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said firmly. “You have to wait until Christmas morning.”

“Okay, sweetie, if I have to wait, I’ll wait,” Whitney replied before tickling her niece. She was fighting back tears as she prayed this wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“Mercy,” Ally cried, and Whitney stopped. Then she directed her attention toward her nephew, who was sitting on the other end of the table and not looking at either of them.

“Take off your headphones, Brayden. I need to talk to you both.”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

“Someone came to see me today. It seems your father has some family who are alive, but they live on the other side of the States. They want to meet you both, and to spend this Christmas with you,” she told them.

“If they want to see us so badly, where have they been all of our lives?” Brayden asked with open sarcasm.

“I don’t know, really. It seems that there was some kind of disagreement — umm, that sort of thing happens all the time —, and they didn’t know about the two of you, and they just learned of your father’s passing. They’re grieving. As you know, it’s never easy to lose people you love. And they would like to know you, their family,” Whitney said. “You have a grandpa and an uncle that I know of. I don’t know how many other relatives.”

“I have a grandpa?” Ally almost squealed.

Yes, Whitney knew her loving niece would want to see her family. She’d love them no matter who they were. The decision really lay with Brayden. They looked at each other, and she could see the emotion he was trying so desperately to keep inside. It was obvious he wanted to meet these family members, but he was still so hurt, and not willing to trust too easily.

“I don’t really care about stupid relatives I’ve never met before,” Brayden finally said. “But it would be kind of cool to travel somewhere, and at least get out of this place.”

At least he was showing some emotion other than anger, Whitney thought.

“Do you want to sleep on it before you decide?” she asked them both, almost wishing they’d decide not to go.

“You’d be coming with us, right?” Brayden said in a bit of a panic, thinking that maybe his aunt was trying to ship them off and be rid of them.

“Of course I would, Brayden. You know how much I love you and your sister. I’m in no way trying to abandon you guys.” She saw his shoulders relax. As much as he fought her, she knew he loved her as much as she loved him.

“Well, I really don’t want to be in this house for Christmas,” Brayden said. “Last year sucked, let me tell you.”

“Okay, I’ll call Mr. Smotter and let him know we’ll accept their kind offer. I’m not sure when they’ll want us to go off on the big trip,” she told them.

“Is my grandpa nice?” Ally asked.

Whitney looked at this beautiful, innocent child, and even more grief filled her.

“I’m sure he’s a good man. And being around you would only bring out the best in him.” She had to hope that what she’d said was the truth.

“I can’t wait,” Ally said. She bounced from Whitney’s lap and leaped up the stairs.

“I don’t know how soon we’ll be going,” Whitney called after her, but it was too late. The little girl was most likely already packing a bag.

“Are you sure about this, Brayden?”

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not sure about them at all. But I’m more than sure I’d like to get out of this awful house.” And he too bounded up the stairs.

Would there be no end to fighting tears? Whitney pulled out the card Mr. Smotter had left and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, then told her the private jet would be ready to depart as soon as she had the children packed.

It was moving way too fast.

Chapter Four

“Kids, you have to hurry. The car is already waiting in the driveway.”

“We’re coming,” Brayden said, rolling his eyes at his aunt as he emerged from his bedroom. His excitement was obvious, but he was determined to pretend that the trip was no big deal.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous, I guess,” Whitney told him.

“Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked, throwing a doubtful look at her one bag.

“I don’t need very much. You just worry about your own bags,” she told him, before ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. He grabbed their bags without being asked and made his way downstairs.

Ally trailed behind Whitney as they followed the boy. Mr. Smotter stood at the door to help with the remaining bags. There, sitting in the little driveway, was the largest limo Whitney had ever seen, and as they climbed inside, they all felt a bit intimidated.

“This is a really big car, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said with huge eyes. Even Brayden was far more subdued than normal.

“Yes it is,” Whitney answered, not knowing what else to add.

“Hello, children. My name is Mr. Smotter. It’s very nice to meet you both. I have snacks for you, and then you’ll be served breakfast on the jet.”

“You talk funny,” Ally said as she moved closer to the man.

“I speak very well, young lady,” he told her, and he seemed offended.

“Ally, that wasn’t very polite. Would you please apologize to Mr. Smotter?” Whitney told her niece.

Ally’s head drooped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smotter.”

“No offense taken, young lady,” Mr. Smotter said, instantly warming toward the young girl at the clear distress in her face.