Fortune's Special Delivery

Charles glanced up at her. “Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. I just didn’t think you’d to take to him so quickly. I thought...” She trailed off, knowing that everything she’d expected about Charles’s reaction to finding out he had a son was insulting and, apparently, off the mark.

Obligation and a niggling sense of guilt had prompted her to call him when she’d found out he was visiting his family in Texas. But she hadn’t realized what had stopped her from contacting him before that. It wasn’t as much how he would respond to the knowledge of being a father, but Alice’s reaction to Charles.

They’d spent only one night together, but she’d felt the overwhelming charge of attraction and longing as soon as she looked up and saw him standing in front of her today. He was just as handsome, looking almost formal and wholly British in his slim trousers, expensive loafers and dark, fitted shirt.

The temperature was beginning to rise as the sun drew higher in the sky, and Alice could feel a bead of sweat roll between her shoulder blades. Charles, on the other hand, looked as dashing and sophisticated as if he were ready to meet a foreign dignitary. He smelled delicious, expensive and spicy. The scent made her want to lean in closer to him and beg him to press his mouth to hers.

She was such a fool.

Charles likely hadn’t given her a moment’s thought in the past year, and she’d struggled to keep him out of her mind and, more annoyingly, her dreams. But Charles in the flesh was far more powerful than her fantasy version. To see him show such easy affection with her son—with their son—made Alice almost melt on the spot.

Unfortunately, it also made the future far more complicated, and she liked her simple life with Flynn.

“My father was a wonderful man,” Charles told her, his gaze back on the baby. “The most honorable, good-hearted, kind person I’ve ever known. I couldn’t ever hope to compare to him, but I want to follow his example. I’m going to do the right thing by Flynn, Alice. I promise you that much.”

She nodded dumbly, unable to speak around the emotion rising thick and hot in her throat. Automatically, she reached for the baby, needing the weight of Flynn in her arms to settle her. Charles handed him to her, their fingers brushing as he did. She felt the touch all the way to her toes, her skin tingling with awareness. Needing to gain control of herself, Alice stood and gently placed Flynn back into his stroller. She strapped him into the infant seat and turned to Charles. “I should go,” she said, “Thank you for meeting me and for being so good about all of this. I really don’t—”

“Expect a call from me tomorrow,” Charles interrupted, also standing. He slid the sunshade over Flynn and took a step toward Alice before stopping. “I have some plans to put into motion, papers to draw up.” His fingers rested on the stroller handle as hers had earlier. His touch was confident, proprietary, and despite his devil-may-care attitude about life, Alice knew from Charles’s work with the tourism council that he was smart and cunning, with powerful connections on both sides of the Atlantic. Once he decided there was something he wanted, little could stop him from having it.

“If you change your mind, I understand,” Alice said quickly, no longer sure what she wanted from her son’s father. Afraid of both what he made her feel and the way he could change her life.

“I won’t.” He leaned forward, kissed her cheek in much the same way he’d kissed Flynn’s forehead. The brush of his lips was gentle, sweet and utterly irresistible. Cue the melting once again. Great. Just when Alice needed to keep her wits about her, one innocent touch could turn her to mush. “Thank you, Alice,” he said as he straightened. “For calling me. This morning has changed everything.”

“Goodbye, Charles,” she said, and gripped the stroller handle harder than necessary. He moved back and she turned for the path toward her car, his words echoing in her ears.

Yes, everything had changed. Now she wondered exactly what that would mean for her.

Chapter Three (#ulink_e6faf522-f7db-5d62-9c09-4c0c741f6e14)

“Why am I such an idiot?” she asked Meredith later that night. They were back in Alice’s cozy apartment, and she’d just put Flynn down for the night.

“Something about a hot guy will do that to you.” Meredith tipped her wineglass toward Alice. “Add a British accent to the mix, and it’s no wonder your ovaries went into overdrive with Charlie Boy.”

“He wants to be a father to Flynn,” Alice told her friend with a small sigh. She brought her own glass to her lips but set it on the coffee table before taking a drink. Her head had been pounding since the meeting with Charles, and she didn’t need anything to make it worse.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Meredith asked, clearly confused.

“No...yes... I have no idea what I want,” Alice admitted. “I’m so tired, I can’t think straight.”

Meredith gave her a sympathetic smile. “The transition back to work hasn’t been an easy one.”

“I love my job, but it’s different now that I have Flynn. Everything is different.” Her maternity leave had ended just over a month ago, and she’d returned to her job with the Texas Tourism Board, which was based out of Austin. She’d worked there for just over three years, and what Alice lacked in a gregarious, outgoing personality, she made up for in attention to detail, understanding the market and her ability to assess what people wanted out of a visit. But it was more difficult for those skills to shine through when she was chronically sleep deprived and always torn between being at work or at home with her son.

She’d modified her schedule so she could work from home two days a week, and had found a semiretired nanny, a sweet older woman, to watch Flynn another two days. Alice’s mother took the baby one day a week. But Alice still got up before dawn most mornings to put in extra hours, and with Flynn’s sometimes erratic sleeping patterns, she never felt rested. Her exhaustion was starting to take a toll, and Alice often felt like she was slogging through mud just to form a coherent thought.

“Charles had a right to know he has a child,” she told Meredith, “but I never expected him to take to the idea so readily. Of course I want Flynn to know his father, but he’s my son. Mine.” Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. “Flynn is my sole reason for being and now I’m going to have to share him. What if Charles wants partial custody? What if he takes Flynn to England for part of the year?” She knew she sounded irrational but couldn’t help it. Being a mother was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She couldn’t imagine a night when she didn’t tuck Flynn in bed or a morning without a baby-scented snuggle to greet her.

“What if he wants the three of you to be a family?” Meredith asked.

Alice snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Charles has no interest in me beyond Flynn. He barely remembered who I was at first. Just another in his long list of conquests in the bedroom.” She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. “Not that I was much of a prize.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Alice. You’re not an awkward teenager anymore. In case you haven’t looked in a mirror in the past few years, you’re gorgeous. Men stare at you everywhere we go.”

“They don’t—”

“They do, but you don’t notice.”

“I noticed Charles,” Alice admitted. “We only had one night together and it’s been over a year. I’m tired, stressed and still have ten pounds of baby weight to lose. The last thing on my mind is men. But I could barely form a sentence this morning because of my reaction to him. How am I supposed to remain calm and in control when all I want is to...”

“Jump his bones?” Meredith suggested with a wink.

Alice laughed at the old-school expression, a welcome break in the tension that seemed ready to consume her. “I’m a mother now, Mer.”

“Last time I checked, you’re still a woman.”

The funny thing was, the only time Alice had felt like a woman recently was with Charles. He made her feel alive and aware of herself in a different way than normal. In a way that made her hot and itchy and longing for...more. It had to be something biological, like pheromones. There was no other way to account for her reaction to him. “Until I know how Charles wants to proceed, I can’t let down my guard. Flynn is my first—my only—priority.”

“Then you have to at least give Charles a chance.” Meredith stood, picked up both their wineglasses. “For Flynn’s sake.”

Alice unfolded her legs and followed her friend to the kitchen, where Meredith set the glasses in the sink. “Thanks for listening. I needed a friend tonight.”

“My pleasure, sweetie.” Meredith hugged her. “I’ve got to go now. I’m meeting a few people for drinks at a bar downtown. Want to call a last-minute sitter and join us?”

Alice grimaced. “It’s nearly nine.”

“The night is young.”

“Not for me. I’m exhausted and my alarm is already set for five tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll see you at the office, then,” Meredith said.

Alice locked the door to her apartment behind her friend and sighed. Her mind drifted to Charles and what he might be doing tonight. Was he also at a bar downtown or out to dinner with a woman? He had no shortage of female companionship, and Alice knew she didn’t stand a chance when compared to the women he usually favored. Of course, she’d see him again, thanks to Flynn, but Alice hated that she longed for more. Her attraction to him made her feel weak when what she needed was to be strong for her son.

She quietly let herself into Flynn’s room. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she approached the crib. He slept on his back, his face turned toward her, and her heart swelled with love at how innocent he was. He deserved the best she could give him, which was why she worked so hard, put in extra hours and ignored her own needs. That’s what mothers did for their children.

She’d wait to hear from Charles and concentrate on ignoring her feelings for the tall, handsome Englishman. Her only identity was that of a mother, and it was better for everyone if she didn’t fool herself into thinking it could be anything else.

* * *

Charles lay in bed early the next morning, watching the windows of his hotel suite slowly brighten with dawn light. His sleep had been sporadic and fitful. He’d drift off, only to awake in a cold sweat minutes later. Wispy tendrils of panic had threatened to claim him in the dark, so many unspoken fears and regrets from his life coalescing into one important word.

Father.

Bloody hell.

What had he been thinking to tell Alice he wanted to be a part of Flynn’s life? She’d seemed more than willing to let him off the hook. Shirking responsibility was Charles’s specialty in life. He’d even made a successful career of taking the easy way out. He traveled, shook hands with dignitaries and the rich and famous. He attended parties and smiled for the cameras, and somehow that made him an asset to the British tourism industry.