A Father's Love

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Trust in Him in all things. Pour out your heart before Him. God is our refuge.

—Psalms 62:8

Chapter One (#ulink_8e1287e9-9e51-50cb-8b1c-934215265900)

The shrill cries woke him.

Multimillionaire bachelor Max Stevens rolled over in bed and listened.

It couldn’t be the television since his twin brother, Rand, and Rand’s new wife, Elizabeth, were on an extended honeymoon. Besides, the sound of the TV wouldn’t reach his suite of rooms.

None of the staff at the house he shared with his brother would dare turn on a TV while on duty. And gauging from the sky’s pale light it was probably about 6:00 a.m.

Cats, he decided. Despite the gardener’s attempts, strays had obviously gotten onto the grounds again and were fighting. Max pushed himself up in bed, the silk sheet sliding down his chest and pooling at his waist. It looked as if he would have to break up the fight himself since he could still hear the noise down on the patio.

Swinging his bare legs over the edge of the bed, his toes sank into the lush tan carpet. He slid his feet into slippers and grabbed his silk robe, shrugging it on over his paisley shorts. He doubted anyone was up yet. However, in a house this size, he could never be certain of not running into the staff. It was safer to stay decently covered.

As he walked to the balcony, he rubbed a weary hand over his face. This was not how he liked to be awakened early in the morning. He had a hard day of work ahead of him. Stevens Inc. was planning two more store openings across the country and with Rand gone, all the extra work fell to Max. Not that he begrudged Rand his vacation for a moment. Rand had been in a tailspin after losing his wife, Carolyn, almost two years ago. Blind and bitter, it had taken his occupational therapist, Elizabeth, who was now Rand’s wife, to lead him back to the living. Eventually, Rand’s sight improved and he began working at the office. Max had been grateful for Rand’s help again. He wholeheartedly approved of his brother’s extended honeymoon before coming back to work full-time. Max had held down the fort for over a year, what difference did a few extra months make?

Still, it would’ve been nice to have been done with his morning devotions and prayer before this interruption. His whole day would feel off-kilter now.

Padding down the balcony stairs, Max followed the wrought-iron railing around the curve to the patio below. But when he turned the corner, he stopped and stared in stunned amazement

“Sarah!” It was his housekeeper’s fault. It had to be. “Sarah, where are you!”

He continued to stare, rooted to the spot until he heard hurried footsteps. “Oh, mercy,” the housekeeper said.

Her gasp told him he’d been wrong. “Do you have grandkids?”

“Certainly not. You know my husband and I wouldn’t keep that a secret.” She stood by him and stared too.

“Well, do something,” he finally said.

“Like what?” she asked.

“You’re a woman. Don’t you know what to do about these things?”

“That’s a sexist remark, Mr. Stevens.”

Realizing she didn’t intend to move from her position as an observer, he stepped forward. The sounds stopped. He raised an eyebrow as he peered into the laundry basket that contained the two toddlers.

“Well?” Sarah prodded.

He shot her a look that told her to mind her tongue and took another step forward. “They’re sorta small, aren’t they?”

“I guess. But you would know better than me.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “And what do you mean by that?”

Sarah had been with the household since Max was five so Max’s scowl didn’t faze her in the least Plopping her hands on her ample hips, she replied, “What do you think I mean? They look just like…look, there’s a note.”

Max plucked the piece of paper off the side of the laundry basket and began to read:

Dear Max,

I had no one else to leave them with. I’m in trouble, and have to leave. I know you’ll take care of them and love them for me. Please don’t tell anyone the secret I’ve always thought they looked like my knight in shining armor. I’ve never forgotten you. Thank you. You’re a kind man. P.S. Meet Maxwell Robert and Madeline Renée.

Max stared in disbelief at the note until a gurgle from the basket drew his attention.

Maxwell and Madeline?

Two cherubic faces stared back at him. He wasn’t sure how old they were but he knew they were too big to be newborns. And the writer of the note was right. They did look like him. They both had dark hair and one had deep brown eyes, hinting at a Cajun lineage.

But his?

Impossible! He knew that for certain. He wasn’t promiscuous.

“Well, Mr. Stevens,” Sarah said, her voice reeking with disapproval. “Are you just going to leave your kids here on the porch or bring them into the house?” She pivoted and marched away before he could answer.

His kids.

Dear Father, he thought, staring at the two children who were beginning to squirm against the bonds that held the backs of their overalls to the handles of the basket. I know these aren’t my kids. I know it. So, would You mind telling me what I’m getting myself into this time?

God didn’t answer.

Max took that to mean he would find out in time. Inching forward, not sure if his nearness would set the kids off, he picked up the two bulky blue-striped bags that sat nearby and the laundry basket that held the two tiny children.

The one with the brown eyes, he thought it was the girl since it had a pink ribbon in its hair, gurgled and kicked its feet.

The other one chewed on its toe and studied Max with a serious expression.

“Well, uh, kids, I don’t quite understand this, but for some reason your mommy left you with me. She sounded scared in the note. But don’t worry. Hopefully, she’ll be back soon because…to be honest, I don’t have the faintest idea what to do with you. But maybe we can get along fine until…until we get this all worked out.”

The blue-eyed child frowned and released his foot, kicking Max in the nose.

Max froze, afraid they’d start crying again.

The child wiggled his toes against Max’s mouth as if offering him a taste.

Max grimaced and started to move slowly toward the door, deciding the kids would be better off on the floor inside, instead of trying to jam their feet down his throat.

Madeline laughed, which caused the other child to gurgle, too.

Relieved that they weren’t going to throw a fit at his movements, Max hurried to the door. “I’m just going to take you inside now, and sit you down. I bet you’re hungry. I am.”

He paused at the doors leading into the study that overlooked the balcony. Fumbling, he managed to get the door open and make it inside. “I’m not sure exactly what you eat.”