Found: One Secret Baby

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Nancy Holland (#litres_trial_promo)

Nancy Holland (#litres_trial_promo)

About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#u8760f581-e77f-597b-b8f2-e2cba0bdcc94)

The usual flicker of nerves made Rosalie Walker stand up straighter as the receptionist opened the door to show her visitor in. The appointment had been made this morning and she’d been too busy to Google this new client. Would Morgan Danby be a man or a woman?

She looked up, far up, into blue eyes fringed with thick, black lashes.

Definitely a man. A man she could have sworn she’d dreamed about.

The spark of interest she saw in his eyes filled her mind with images of naked bodies intertwined on white sands along sun-sparkled seas. She allowed herself one second to feel like a woman before the lawyer took over.

She extended her hand. “Rosalie Walker.” An involuntary purr shadowed her words.

But the spark in his eyes had burned itself out. He engulfed her hand in his, his no-nonsense expression just a step short of downright cold. “Morgan Danby.”

His voice was deep, and as sexy as the rest of him, but like his face, it held no warmth. Only for that one moment had his eyes shown any sign of a flesh-and-blood man hidden behind the mask.

“Sit down, Mr. Danby.” She gestured to the chair across the desk and sat in hers.

What would bring a gorgeous man in a hand-tailored suit and diamond cufflinks to a family law practice miles from Los Angeles’ center of glamor and wealth?

“How can I help you?” The tell-tale purr lingered, but luckily he didn’t seem to hear it.

“I’m here to learn more about the late Maria Mendelev.”

The way he mispronounced Márya’s name froze Rosalie’s breath in her chest.

“What is your interest in the late Ms. Mendelev?” she managed in a neutral tone once her heart began to beat again.

He made a dismissive gesture with one aristocratic hand. “I’m not interested in her.”

Anger closed Rosalie’s throat, but she forced her lips to keep a smile of polite interest.

“I’m interested in the child she may have left behind.”

The world spun away, then fell back into place on a less stable axis.

Rosalie fought to keep her eyes fixed on Mr. Danby’s face without even a glance at the small photo stuck to the edge of her computer monitor.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to talk to the man who would be this supposed child’s father?” Her voice sounded almost normal, but the rest of her body echoed with shock. “I understand he can be reached at San Quentin for the next thirty years or so.”

“I’ve talked to him, but he insists he never got Ms. Mendelev pregnant.”

It was hard to believe the man who murdered her friend would say the right thing for the right reason.

“Doesn’t that settle the matter?”

Mr. Danby shook his head. “I suspect he’s worried that if he admits he fathered a child, money will be taken out of his trust fund to support it.”

That sounded more like her friend’s killer.

“Why don’t you contact Child Welfare Services?” Contempt colored her voice. “They would be responsible for a child with a deceased mother and an incarcerated father.”

“It’s unclear which county would be responsible for the child, given the Mendelev woman’s wanderings in the last months before she died.”

The Mendelev woman. How could he talk about Márya like that?

Rosalie stood up. “I don’t think I can help you, Mr. Danby. I’m sure there are many other lawyers in Los Angeles who could find the information you want.”

He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “You’re the only lawyer who was a witness at the hearing on Ms. Mendelev’s order of protection against her alleged abuser.”

Rosalie closed her eyes against the mounting panic. Too much was at stake to let this man bait her into losing control. She put her hands on the desk and leaned into his personal space. The musky scent of his body distracted her for half an instant before she pushed it out of her mind.

“That ‘alleged’ abuser is the man who murdered her.”

Something dangerous lit in Morgan Danby’s dark blue eyes. Staying so close pushed Rosalie’s courage to the limit. His gaze dropped to her breasts, now at his eye level. Her mind cringed, but she didn’t move.

“He’s also my brother,” Danby said.

A burst of pure panic made her blink. The monster’s family had finally shown up.

Morgan shifted in his chair. Claiming Charleston Thompson as a brother always made him feel as if he’d stepped in something vile.

The anger radiating from the woman who loomed over him didn’t help. He might have found her attractive under other circumstances. Brains always impressed him, although his tastes ran to tall, slender blondes, not chest-high brunettes with more attitude than charm.

He distracted himself from that inappropriate train of thought by glancing around the sleek, efficient office, straight out of a mid-range office-furnishings catalog.

Ms. Walker looked efficient too, but not quite as sleek. Wisps had escaped from the smooth cap of her hair to curl around her face, and a mysterious small white spot marred the shoulder of her suit jacket.

When she sank back into her chair, he could breathe more easily, but the flowery scent of her perfume lingered and kept his adrenalin, or some other stimulating hormone, at full force.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

She was a cool one. Her face and body were frozen in the professionally appropriate attitude of polite attention. Only her fisted hands hinted at the anger he sensed boiling underneath the frosty façade, and she quickly dropped those to her lap, out of his sight.