Kidnapped At Christmas

Seeing him again, all bronzed hair and steel-gray eyes with thick lashes, had thrown her off. The restaurant should’ve been full over the lunch hour but she’d forgotten about the midday tree-lighting ceremony in the park. The place must be bustling about now, and she figured that was half the reason she hadn’t heard from Stephanie yet.

Meg pushed off the chair and followed Wyatt. A young guy held the door open for her, but their feet collided and she had to take a couple of steps to recover her balance.

She acknowledged his mumbled apology with a nod. Her gaze was locked onto Wyatt’s back side as she ignored the sensual shivers running through her.

The fact that he’d been clear about flying solo had been the exact reason she’d ended their fling last year and walked away before her emotions got involved.

“Wait,” she said to his back, a strong one at that. Birds fluttered in her chest. When he didn’t stop, she added, “Please.”

Wyatt slowed his pace, which allowed her to catch up to his long strides without breaking into a run.

“I’m sorry about before...” Now at his side, she could see him smirking. Meg stopped. “I have something serious to say, but if this is just a game to you then forget it.”

Wyatt turned to face her and put all signs of his playboy swagger in check.

Wow. Meg had been nervous before, but she had totally underestimated how much harder this was going to be in person while staring into his eyes. Her legs threatened to give.

“Last year, I stopped returning your calls—”

He brought his hand up to stop her.

“If that’s why you called me here, save it. It was a long time ago and I don’t need an explanation. We had fun. You moved on. End of story.” Was there a momentary flicker of...hurt?...in his eyes? Meg must be crazy and seeing imaginary things. What was next? Unicorns? She’d been reading too many fairy tales to her daughter because her mind was flirting with believing them.

He made a move to walk away again, and the pressure mounted...

“We had more than fun. We had a baby,” she blurted out, her pulse pounding wildly in part because of what she’d just shared and in part because of the strong virile male standing two feet in front of her.

He looked her up and down like he was evaluating her for a trip to the psych ward. His eyes grazed a hot trail as they lingered on the curve of her hips and then the fullness of her breasts. An unwelcome sensation of warmth slid along her belly and heated her inner thighs despite the frigid December temperatures.

“How do you know it’s mine?” That question was the equivalent of a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

“You were the only possibility.” She brought her fisted hand to rest on her hip and her body shivered to stave off the cold.

Wyatt glanced around. “I don’t exactly see a baby, so...”

“She’s at the park.” Meg fumbled inside her purse for her cell, willing her shaky hands to calm down. After his accusation, they were trembling with anger. She needed to check her texts to see if Stephanie had tried to reach her. “She’s eight weeks old and I haven’t slept since she was born, so excuse me if I’m a little rattled.” She threw one of her hands up in the air.

“If you’re after the Butler fortune you’re going about it the wrong way.” The words knifed her chest. She’d expected him to be surprised but not condemn her as money-grubbing crackpot, but hold on a minute. Had she heard him right?

“What does my daughter have to do with the Butlers? Your last name is Jackson.” Now it was Meg’s turn to look at him like he’d lost his mind. Although, she shouldn’t be surprised at the news. Maverick Mike Butler had fathered at least one other child that no one knew about.

Wyatt stared at her, same as before, with a raised brow and unbelievable expression.

“No, I’m not in need of psychiatric care.” She located her cell and white-knuckled it. “And I do have a baby.”

Meg entered her screensaver password and noticed there was still no text from Stephanie. An uneasy feeling gripped her as she stuck her phone out at Wyatt. A picture of Aubrey was her wallpaper and, therefore, proof. “See.”

He nodded as he scrutinized the image.

“You still haven’t answered my question. What does Aubrey have to do with the Butlers?” Her patience was running thin and she really was starting to get worried about Stephanie.

Wyatt looked at a loss for words.

“Never mind. Excuse me for a second while I make a call. My friend took my—” she flashed eyes at him “—our daughter for a walk around the park. She was supposed to text me in case things went sour...” Meg ran her finger along Stephanie’s name. She didn’t dare turn her back on Wyatt for fear he’d disappear even though she wanted to make this call in private. The cell ran straight into voice mail and her pulse shot up a couple more notches. “Stephanie, give me a call as soon as you get this. Hope everything is okay.”

Wyatt, who had been quiet until now, said, “I’m sure everything’s all right.”

“It’s not like her not to do something if she says she’s going to.” Meg started to pace, torn between walking away from him—and possibly never seeing him again—and checking on her daughter.

“Do you trust your friend?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Then you have to believe that she wouldn’t do anything to put your daughter in harm’s way. That’s really what you’re worried about, right? Something bad happening to...” He seemed to be searching for the name so she supplied it.

“Aubrey.”

His jaw muscle ticked. “Right. You said something about a tree-lighting ceremony and that’s probably what the traffic I drove in to get here was for. Thus, the reason I was late. They could be playing holiday music. She most likely can’t hear her cell.”

“Wouldn’t we hear if it was that loud?” she asked.

“It’s two blocks away from the restaurant. I doubt it.” He was making sense, being rational, while her over-the-top protective instinct was waging war on her insides. The two had driven separate vehicles because Stephanie had errands to run later.

“I have a bad feeling.” She couldn’t shake it no matter how hard she tried.

“You and every mother I’ve ever known.” Wyatt’s steel gaze intensified.

She looked at him, shocked.

“What?” He lifted a shoulder.

“How many like me have there been?” Astonishment flushed her cheeks.

“Like you?” He shot a look. “None.”

“Then how do you... Oh, right, you had a mother.” She didn’t figure him the type to notice the little things. “Everyone does. Even someone like—”

“You really don’t like me very much, do you?” he said with half a smirk and that infuriating twinkle in his eye that had been so good at seducing her.

“I’m sorry. It’s just ever since my—” she glanced up at him “—our daughter was born I’ve been on high alert, afraid something could happen to her. She’s so tiny and fragile except when she cries. Then I know there’s a tiger in there waiting to come out. But the rest of the time she’s just this little thing who’s totally dependent on me and I’m trying my best not to mess everything up.” Had all that really just come out? Wow. Meg was on the verge of a meltdown. She was normally more of the quiet type.

Wyatt seemed too stunned to speak.

“None of which is your problem.” She glanced at the time. More than half an hour had passed and still no word from Stephanie.

“We can head down there to the park, to see for ourselves.” He was extending an olive branch and she would take it.

“Thank you. I’d like that a lot actually.” Meg started toward the park, remembering that although he might have the swagger of a playboy and was all alpha male, she’d been drawn to his kindness in the first place. There wasn’t anything sexier than a strong man who wasn’t afraid to show he had a beating heart in his chest.