The Rich Man's Baby

“That’s because you didn’t meet her and I am certain I never mentioned her.” Harrison walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall of the study.

He braced his hands against the frame and gazed out at the expanse of freshly cut lawn and a wall of manicured shrubs. That time with Juliet had been his most private—not to mention distracting—memory. Having to make it known rankled, but he would do what was right.

“How long were you involved with this girl?”

Harrison’s jaw tightened as he faced his father. “One day.” One incredible, fateful day.

His father’s brows rose to where his hair had once been and he flushed vividly. “Are you saying this was a one-night stand? My God, Harrison. You’ve always pushed the envelope, but you’ve never done anything stupid before.”

“George, stop badgering the boy and let him tell us about the baby,” Harrison’s paternal grandmother finally spoke up from her chair in front of the fire-place.

George raised his hands in submission and sat back down behind his desk. “All right, all right.” Gesturing to Harrison, he said with a sarcastic note, “Please. Continue. I’m dying to hear about any and all of your illegitimate offspring.”

“Damn it, Dad—”

“Gentlemen, please.” Dorothy Rivers rose and came toward them. Elegantly diminutive, she looked up at Harrison with warm green eyes. “Darling, do get back to telling us about the baby and this Juliet.”

Harrison blew out a breath. “Yes, of course, Grandmother.” He took her small hand in his and used the excuse of leading her to one of the chairs in front of the great mahogany desk to reclaim his temper.

His father made a rude noise. “Exactly how much do you know about this woman?”

Harrison helped his grandmother get seated then faced his father. “Not much. Her family lives above and in the rooms behind a store they operate up on the McKenzie River.”

His father crimsoned. “Are you telling us you knocked up a storekeeper’s daughter?”

“George, don’t be crude.”

Harrison frowned. “As far as I could tell today, she’s the one who does the keeping.” He wished he had found out more, but Juliet had refused to speak further with him. Her brother, suddenly acquiring a proper brotherly attitude, would only answer the most basic questions about his sister and nephew.

“So why did she wait so long to contact you?” his father asked. “You did say the child was eighteen months old, didn’t you?”

“Yes, he is. And she didn’t contact me. I found out about him when I went back to the store—”

His father sat forward. “You went back? Why? You said it was a one-night stand.”

“Yes, I went back, and why is none of your business. If I hadn’t I never would have known about Nathan.”

His grandmother sat forward, too. “His name is Nathan?”

Harrison smiled into her eyes, only slightly faded by age, and nodded. “Nathan Maxwell Jones. Apparently, she named him after her grandfather.”

“Just like you were. Is he a towhead like you were, too?” Her eyes positively sparkled now.

Harrison’s smile widened. “As blond as can be.” He felt an intense warmth he wasn’t inclined to squelch spread through his chest when he pictured the little boy. His little boy.

George gave him that narrow-eyed look he’d been using at the office. “Is this Juliet aware of how much you’re worth?”

Harrison glared right back. “Seeing as I left my business card with her brother, I don’t think it’d be too hard to figure out.”

His father tented his fingers in front of him, his high forehead creased in displeasure.

Harrison raised his hands in exasperation. “What difference does it make? I’m going to do the right thing in regards to my child.”

His father slowly rose to his feet. “And just what do you consider ‘the right thing’ to be?”

Harrison shrugged at the obviousness of the answer. “To provide for my son and become a part of his life, as any father should.”

His grandmother’s eyes went wide. “You mean through marriage?”

Harrison pulled back his chin, not having thought of his involvement in those terms at all. To say Juliet wasn’t exactly corporate wife material would be putting it mildly. Their differences were too great for that sort of relationship. Besides, he didn’t want any kind of relationship. No matter how much he was attracted to her, he could never let himself have her again.

His father scoffed. “Of course he doesn’t mean through marriage.” He waved the idea off then fixed Harrison with a hard look. “What kind of proof did she give that you are indeed the father? No way will I acknowledge some random child as a member of the Rivers family without proof.”

Not about to give his father ammunition by telling him about Juliet’s claim that someone else fathered Nathan, he said, “She doesn’t need any proof. All you have to do is look at Nat to know he’s mine. I know he’s mine.” That baby was tangible proof of the intangible connection he’d felt with Juliet. A connection the likes of which he had never felt before or since.

“And all she has to do is look at you to know she’s hit the jackpot.”

“Juliet thinks no such thing. She made it quite clear she doesn’t want anything from me.” Just as he’d made it clear he wanted nothing more from her before he’d met Nathan. An image of her in her snug T-shirt, jeans and bare feet came to mind, and his body instantly responded. Too bad it was a lie. Good thing lust could be ignored.

“Well, if she’s not making any claim, you certainly aren’t obligated—”

Harrison fisted his hands at his sides as a cold, suffocating anger surged through him. “It doesn’t matter if she’s making a claim or not. That child is of me. And obligated or not, I plan to be a part of his life and to make his life better for it. End of discussion.”

He turned to leave, but his grandmother’s soft touch on his hand stopped him. She placed an emerald silk-clad elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned toward him, an intense expression in her mossy eyes. “Do you intend to make a claim on the child?”

Harrison raised his brows. “You mean sue for custody?”

Only one of her brows went up in response.

His father put his head in his hands and groaned, “Good God.”

Harrison shook his head. “No. That would be wrong.”

From behind his hands George said, “And you’re the expert on that, aren’t you? Getting a girl you don’t even know pregnant and all.”

Harrison gave his father a narrow-eyed look of his own. “At least I’m prepared to deal with it,” he shot back before he turned and left the room. Taking Nathan away from his mother would definitely be wrong. The notion hadn’t even occurred to him.

Then the image of the store came to mind. The place was falling apart. No one would blame him for wanting to take his baby out of those conditions. He stopped in the foyer and looked around. Nowhere could be more perfect for raising a child than the opulent but extremely livable Rivers estate. He had loved growing up here.

Knowing the importance of family, his grandfather had wanted his son and grandchildren close to him, so he’d had this huge house built, with separate wings providing each part of the family with their own space. And Harrison needed every inch of that space when his father was in one of the moods he had begun to suffer in the past two years. If not for his grandmother and his younger sister, Ashley, Harrison would have bought a condo in town close to work. Were he to ever move, though, he would miss the place, and Harrison knew Nathan would love living here.

But he refused to take a child away from his mother. He remembered the way Juliet hugged Nat’s little body close to hers, tucking his head beneath her chin. Clearly she loved his son. She didn’t deserve to lose Nathan simply because her family lived in near poverty. Besides, he could never willfully annihilate the rightness of their one time together by portraying her as unsuitable.

The answer sprang to mind and sent his pulse racing. No one said he had to take Nathan away from Juliet for him to be raised here. Whether she wanted anything from Harrison or not, he decided to convince Juliet that some very drastic changes needed to be made in her life.

Willing his pulse back to normal, Harrison strode toward the front door and left the house, feeling once more in control.

There might be a tiny pinch of Prince Charming lurking somewhere in his calculating corporate soul after all.