Inherited: Baby

Mentally chastising herself for paying out on Joe even on the day of his funeral, she managed a weak smile. ‘I’d like nothing better than to take Chas home but shouldn’t I be at the wake?’

She refrained from adding, Won’t people talk?

People had been talking since the minute Joe had met her at the Cup Eve Ball less than two years ago and swept her off her feet, right into his plush South Bank apartment.

‘What was one of the richest men in Melbourne doing with a horse strapper? A girl who mucked out stables for a living? A girl who hadn’t given up her job despite being cocooned in the dreamy arms of Joe Bourke?’

Oh yeah, people had talked. And talked. And were still talking, a soft tittering sweeping the crowd now that the formalities were over and they looked forward to the elaborate bash Riley had organised at a nearby hotel to celebrate his brother’s life in style.

Unfortunately, some of the talk she abhorred so much reached her ears just as Riley leant closer to say something.

‘Look at her; Joe’s barely cold in the ground and she’s already moving on to the next rich guy. And Joe’s brother, no less! There’s a name for girls like her, prostituting themselves to the highest bidder.’

Maya stiffened and turned stricken eyes to Riley, furious at the scathing condemnation tossed so casually and cruelly, mortified that Riley, a man she hardly knew, had to hear it. However, before she could marshal her thoughts on how to respond—which had been to ignore it and walk away whenever anything unsavoury had tarnished her relationship with Joe—Riley slid his arm around her shoulder and placed his free hand on the bar of Chas’s pram.

‘Let’s go,’he said, leaving her little option but to obey as he gently propelled her away from the spiteful woman who’d uttered the slanderous words that still rang in her head.

Unfortunately, people would think her relationship with Joe had been based on money rather than love. People like that, in Joe’s social sphere and born with a silver spoon clutched in their fists wouldn’t understand how a naïve, trusting young woman could fall so quickly for a smooth charmer.

They wouldn’t understand that she’d spent her entire life hoping for a knight in shining armour to sweep her off her feet and give her the fairy tale ending she’d only read about in the few tattered second-hand books she’d owned as a child.

And they’d never understand how a past she’d worked so hard to forget could raise its ugly head and wipe out her son’s future.

‘It’s okay, Riley. You don’t have to do this.’ She stopped as they neared the cemetery’s periphery, grateful for his support but needing time out to process her feelings, to bank her guilt at the part she’d played in Joe’s death, and to grieve in peace.

Riley kicked down the brake on Chas’s pram and turned to face her, his strong grip on her upper arms feeling way too good. Joe hadn’t touched her in a long, long time and she’d craved affection her whole life.

‘Do what? Protect my brother’s fiancée and my nephew from vile, malicious gossip? Do what any brother would do?’

‘You’re not my brother.’

The words popped out before she could think and he blinked in surprise—but not before she’d glimpsed a spark of an emotion she couldn’t identify. At a guess, it looked like relief.

Not that she could blame him—relieved not to be related to a gullible idiot. Joe had obviously felt the same way, prolonging their engagement, feeding her false promises till he’d finally spilled the truth the night they’d fought for the last time, the night he’d been too tanked to walk a straight line let alone drive.

‘No, I’m not your brother, but I’m here for both of you,’ he said, glancing at Chas with a tenderness that took her breath away. ‘Whatever you need, let me know. I want to help.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, wishing he’d stop looking at her like some sort of pathetic charity case.

If she’d learned one thing over the years it was to hold her head high. Pride was all she had left.

‘You sure you’re going to be all right?’

‘Positive,’ she said, injecting some force into her voice before she broke down completely and wept on Riley’s broad shoulders. ‘And I appreciate you taking care of all this.’

She waved a hand towards the dispersing crowd in the distance, relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with their probing stares or harsh censure any longer. Her life with Joe was over and she’d do her best to see that Chas didn’t bear the brunt of the stigma she’d had to face.

‘No problems. If you need anything…’ Riley trailed off, his steady gaze drawn to Chas once again as if he didn’t want to let her son out of his sight.

Great. Another Bourke who doubted her mothering skills. Joe had often thrown put-downs her way in his usual joking fashion. Sadly, she’d learned that Joe’s ‘jokes’ were a front for cruel barbs, insults meant to hurt her where she’d feel it most. She’d trusted him enough to tell him about her past—so what had he done? Honed in on her insecurities when their relationship faltered, sticking the knife in and twisting it just for the fun of it.

No, she wouldn’t miss Joe. As much as she’d loved him, had idolised him, he was her past. Chas was her future.

Looking down at her sleeping son blowing small air bubbles out of the corner of his mouth, she managed a weak smile, feeling some of the tension of the day ebb away.

‘We’ll be okay,’ she said, tracing Chas’s baby-soft cheek with her index finger, overwhelmed by how much she loved this little boy.

And as she gently lifted her slumbering son and placed him in his car seat, and Riley helped load the pram and nappy bag in the back of her four-wheel drive station wagon, she knew they would be okay.

She had no other option.

‘Your brother must’ve been a good man.’

Riley took a sip from his third espresso of the afternoon and stared at Matt Byrne, the lawyer who’d handled his business dealings for the last few years. ‘My brother may have been a lot of things but I don’t think good was one of them.’

Competitive? Yeah.

Obsessed with winning? Yeah.

Cocky, brash and charming. Definitely.

But good? Uh-uh.

Matt raised an eyebrow. ‘By the size of this turnout, I’d say quite a few people would disagree with you.’

Riley followed Matt’s gaze, sweeping the crowd which included several TV celebrities, politicians and a few models. Notably absent were members of the racing fraternity—though, considering Joe’s growing gambling debts and the number of times Riley had bailed him out, he wasn’t surprised.

‘Most of this crowd are here for the free food and alcohol,’ he said, annoyed at the bitter tone creeping into his voice.

Matt didn’t know about Joe’s carousing, his penchant for beautiful women, his love of the high life and Riley wanted to keep it that way. The fewer people who knew about Joe’s private affairs, the better. It made it less likely that any more gossip would taint Maya and Chas.

Maya…A fleeting image flashed across his mind of the petite blonde dressed in head to toe black, her face hidden by a huge hat, the way her luminous green eyes had stared up at him when that vile woman had implied she was a tart.

He’d been prepared to dislike Joe’s fiancée, half-believing the rumours he’d heard about her gold-digging tendencies, and therefore had been staggered by how much he’d wanted to haul her into his arms and comfort her, to block out the cruel whispers and tell her everything would be all right.

A strange reaction considering he hardly knew her. Joe had seen to that.

‘What’s going on, Riley? You never lose your cool.’

Riley wrenched his attention back to Matt. ‘You met Maya, right?’

‘Yeah. Gorgeous woman. She must be devastated that Joe’s gone. And that poor little kid—’

‘Chas will be fine. That’s why I flew you down here.’

‘I’m still surprised about that. Surely a hotshot like Joe would have his own lawyer to handle the will?’

‘I want you to do it,’ Riley bit out, knowing Joe hadn’t had a lawyer. The last guy who’d been foolish enough to take on that particular responsibility had washed his hands of Joe’s dealings quick smart. ‘That way, I know everything will be done right.’