The Tycoon's Secret Daughter

“Oh.” He got it now. “So you’re not getting extra cookies.”

She glanced up. Actually looked at him this time. “Too much sugar isn’t good for me.”

He laughed, recognizing she’d probably repeated verbatim what she’d been told by her mom.

He made himself a little more comfortable on the chair. Trisha finally sat. Thirty seconds went by with neither of them saying a word. Panic filled him, along with the fear of total inadequacy. How did a man parent a child he was only now meeting?

Kate walked into the room carrying the teapot and a small plate with three cookies. She’d tucked her dark hair behind her ears, revealing the slim column of her throat. His gaze fell from her throat to her T-shirt, which perfectly outlined her breasts, to the trim line of her tummy exposed above the waistband of her jeans. His breath stuttered. His attraction to her sprang up like a lion that had been lying in wait in the African bush, confusing him. How could he be so damned attracted to a woman he was so damned angry with?

“One cookie for you. Two for your dad.”

Trisha sighed. “Because he’s bigger.”

“Exactly.”

She offered the plate of cookies to him, standing close enough that he could smell her cologne.

Telling himself he’d better get accustomed to being around her or he’d drive himself crazy, he took a cookie from the tray. “No cookie for you?”

She walked away and began gathering the toys from the sofa. “Not hungry. Besides, this isn’t my party. It’s yours. With your daughter. Enjoy it.”

Panic swamped him again. Unwanted attraction be damned. He needed Kate and she was deserting him.

Trisha poured the “tea.” Wary of the cleanliness of the plastic cup and whatever was inside, he cast Kate a questioning look. “Am I allowed to ask when these little cups were last washed?”

She laughed lightly. “We wash the tea set every time she uses it. It’s clean.”

Still cautious, he took a sip and discovered the drink was actually a grape punch of some sort. Dark enough to look like tea, but not really tea. “It’s good.”

“It’s the queen’s favorite.”

He glanced at Trisha. “The queen?”

Trisha pointed to an empty chair. “The queen comes to everyone’s tea parties.”

So out of his element he had no clue what to say or do, he again looked to Kate. But she was busy gathering toys. Either not paying attention or deliberately forcing him to figure out something to say. With her arms full, he expected her to walk to a toy box, but there was no box. Instead, she stacked the toys in an empty corner.

It suddenly occurred to him that she lived somewhere else. Somewhere so far away they’d never even accidentally bumped into each other. And she didn’t visit. So how did Trisha have toys here?

He knocked on the plastic table. “Are these new?”

Kate said, “Bought them our second day here. Trisha and I both needed a distraction.”

Remembering her dad’s stroke, sorrow unexpectedly swamped him. “I … um … I really am sorry about your dad.”

“He’ll be fine, but no one’s sure how long he’ll be in the hospital.” She reached for another toy. “So I took a three-month leave of absence so we can be here for Mom. That’s a long time to be away from home, and a little girl’s gotta be entertained, so we bought some stuff.”

He blinked, taking all that in. “You’ll be here three months?”

She picked up another toy. “Yep.”

They’d be here three months. He had time. Blessed, blessed time. But he also understood why Kate believed Trisha would need to be entertained. And maybe that could be his avenue to getting visits alone with her. If he could take her while Kate was busy with her father, he could be a savior of sorts, not an interruption.

“You know, if there’s ever a time when you can’t take her with you to the hospital or whatever, I’d be happy to clear my schedule and babysit.”

She peered at him. “Thanks. But we already agreed that I’d be with you when you visited Trisha.”

He should have known that wouldn’t work. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something to prove he would be there for them. “Is there anything else she needs?”

Kate turned. “She’s right there in front of you. Ask her.”

Annoyance skittered through him. He was trying to be nice and she was snippy? If he was inept in this situation, it was her fault. But he kept his cool, reminded himself that he had to take the blame for Kate’s distrust and be patient. No matter how unfair it seemed to him, he still had to play by her rules.

He faced Trisha. “Is there anything you need?”

“A pony.”

Kate laughed. He shot her a look, but turned back to Trisha. Though he was brand-new at being a daddy, he wasn’t a stranger to dealing with people, negotiating, pointing out the obvious. Until he knew how to be a daddy, he’d simply use the skills he had. “There’s no barn here for a pony.”

“That’s what my mom says.”

“So is there anything you need aside from a pony?” A thought hit him and he quickly added, “Or an elephant or a snake or any other living thing.”

She giggled. “I don’t want an elephant.”

Thinking back to his brother Chance, he picked up his cup to sip again and said, “Some kids do.”

Kate had to stifle a spontaneous laugh, but just as quickly guilt pummeled her. He wouldn’t be feeling his way around parenting right now if she hadn’t left.

But he was doing okay, and the more he visited, the better he’d be. Her staying here three months would give him plenty of time to learn how to be a daddy. Especially if he visited a few times a week.

She almost groaned. Good God. A few times a week? If she insisted on being part of every visit—and she already had—she was about to spend the better part of three months with her ex-husband.

Trisha began to pretend to feed her bear. Max glanced back at Kate, then rose from his little plastic chair and walked over to her.

“I’m not sure what the protocol is here, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Though it killed her, she politely said, “You’re fine. We don’t have to be at the hospital until seven.”

“I know, but it’s just that we had a nice visit and I don’t want to spoil it by boring her.”

Familiar fear spiraled through her. “You’re ditching her?”

“Not ditching. Keeping her from disliking me because I bore her.”

She fought the instinctive anger that rose in her—remnants of the insult of always being left alone while he drank with his friends—and forced herself to be logical, not emotional. Their visit had been good, albeit short. Nice, short visits would get Trisha accustomed to him. And get him accustomed to Trisha without pushing either one of them.

“Okay.” Eager to get away from him, she walked over to the table and tapped on it to get Trisha’s attention. “Your dad is leaving now.” She picked up the teapot. “Say goodbye.”