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Ten years later, that home was being challenged by some stranger’s assertion that Riley was not her husband’s son. Party A, whoever he was, had no idea what can of worms he’d upended.
Legal advice, that was what she needed. But legal advice came with a price tag that she wasn’t in a position to pay, and she wasn’t about to use the firm that had handled the Connell family affairs for over a hundred years. Not when they were the very people who’d see her and Riley removed from the property if this whole paternity business didn’t go away.
She shook her head. She’d been James’s wife in every meaning of the word. Riley was their son. Connell Lodge was Riley’s home for his lifetime. The archaic trust that held the property only allowed direct descendants of the original James Connell, who built the property back in the early 1900s, to live there. As James’s legal and biological son, Riley and she—as his mother—had every right to be there.
A chill of foreboding ran down her spine. But what if a mistake had been made?
God, she hated this whole situation and the horribly vulnerable position it had put her in. If she had to leave right now, all she and Riley would have were the clothes on their backs and the very small amount of money left in her bank account. She had no skills other than being darn good at keeping the lodge in order and providing for their guests, and while she could competently skipper the boat moored at the end of the private pier, their charter license had long since lapsed. James had been the great outdoorsman, not to mention a much sought-after fishing guide, while all she’d ever wanted was a home—and Connell Lodge was that home.
Losing the very roof over her head was not an option. Somehow, she had to get the proof she needed to make this all go away.
A name popped into her head. Janet Morin. She’d met Janet during childbirth classes and knew the other woman had planned to return part-time to her legal practice in South Lake Tahoe almost immediately after the birth of her daughter. Maybe she could help, or at least be able to advise Erin on the best route to take without costing a small fortune. She’d make enquiries in the next few days, sound the woman out. She certainly didn’t want a whiff of any of this getting to the trustees who handled Connell Lodge—at least, not before she knew exactly where she stood, however shaky that ground may be.
Riley chose that moment to bump his nose with the toy he’d been clutching in his fist and sent up an almighty wail of protest. She unbuckled him from the rocker and lifted him in her arms but he was determined to be inconsolable.
“Shh, Riley-bear, shh,” she murmured as she held him close and peppered his little face with kisses, but he wasn’t having any of it.
From experience she knew there was only one way to soothe him. With one eye on the old-fashioned board, decorated with bells that were connected to the main rooms, she settled in a kitchen chair, unbuttoned the top of her blouse and adjusted her clothing so he could nurse. Riley latched onto her with gusto, and Erin wiped his chubby little cheeks of the tears that had stained them.
“Oh, Riley, your timing is kind of off, sweetheart. Our guest is going to be down for his dinner soon and I don’t think he’ll be impressed with me bringing along his meal with you attached to me like this.”
“I’m happy to wait.”
The voice from the door made her start, popping Riley off her. She swiftly guided him back and arranged her blouse a little more modestly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, color flaring in her cheeks as she saw exactly where Sam Thornton’s eyes were locked. “I didn’t hear you ring for me.”
“I didn’t.” Sam limped the rest of the way into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table. “I went to the dining room, and while it’s a beautiful room, the idea of eating there alone didn’t really suit. Do you mind if I eat here, with you?”
Did she mind? Part of her yelled, “Hell, yes!” But there was an entreaty in his voice, a loneliness that struck her to her core. Did that explain the shadows in his eyes? The lines drawn on his handsome face?
“No, I don’t mind at all,” she said as smoothly as she could. “I’m sorry, about this. Riley’s a bit out of his usual routine for some reason. Maybe he’s heading for another growth spurt.”
“Riley? That’s his name?”
She must be hearing things. Was that wistfulness in Sam Thornton’s voice?
“Sure is,” she replied, swiftly covering up as Riley disengaged from her and turned to give a milky smile to the newcomer. “Riley James Connell, at your service.”
“May I hold him?”
Erin couldn’t quite disguise her shock. He wanted to hold Riley? In her experience, most men ran a mile from kids at this age, preferring them when they were older, toilet trained and at least partly able to conduct a conversation. “Most men” being her late husband, that is.
“Sure, I’ll just need to burp him first,” she said, fixing her clothing with one hand and propping Riley upright on her lap with the other.
“I can do that,” Sam said.
“You’ve done it before?” she asked in surprise.
“No, but how hard can it be?”
The man didn’t know what he was in for. “He still sometimes spits up a bit when he burps.”
“So put a towel on my shoulder,” Sam said nonchalantly. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”
Erin nodded and rose, getting a small towel from a kitchen drawer and giving it to him. He laid it over his shoulder and then held his hands out for Riley, who happily went into the arms of the stranger.
She was unable to tear her gaze from her baby in this man’s embrace. “He’ll be more comfortable if you hold him like so.” She guided one of Sam’s arms under Riley’s diapered bottom. “And if you rub his back with your other hand, holding him against you.”
Sam did as she suggested. It looked wrong, and yet right at the same time, and it reminded her that Riley had missed out on a lot of male contact with his father gone. But should he be getting that contact with Sam Thornton? She didn’t even know the man, yet somehow she instinctively felt she could trust him. When Riley belched, Sam’s face took on a look of pride that made her laugh out loud. You’d have thought it was Sam himself who’d created the hearty sound.
“Wow, the boy can burp,” he said, still gently rubbing the baby’s back.
“And that’s not all,” Erin said, a smile still wreathing her face. “You should see what he does at the other end.”
A look of horror passed over Sam’s features. “I can just imagine. Here, do you want him back?”
“No, I’ll finish getting our meal together. You can put him back in his rocker if you don’t want to keep holding him.”
“Is it safe?” Sam said, looking at the rocker.
“Sure, and it’s a huge help. Short of having him strapped to me during his waking hours, it’s a great way for him to be a bit independent of me and still see what I’m doing around the place.”
“It’s okay,” he said, “I’ll hold him until we’re ready to eat.”
Erin grabbed a second place setting and laid the kitchen table for the two of them. Even with Riley there, it felt strangely intimate to be laying the table for two. The last time she’d done this it had been several months ago, while James was still well enough to leave his bed and come to the kitchen. She pushed the memories aside. She didn’t want to go there right now. She had more than enough to think about.
Sam held the tiny body in his arms and fought to swallow past the lump in his throat. As hard as it was to believe, he could actually be holding his son. Every instinct in his body wanted to hold this child to him and protect him from the ravages of the world, but he had no right to do that until he knew for certain that Riley was his.
He watched Erin as she competently moved through the kitchen, transforming a bare table to a convivial setting with effortless ease. The aroma of the dish she’d removed from the oven to stand on a trivet on the table spoke volumes to her ability as a cook. Even now, his mouth was watering. It all seemed to come so easily to her and reminded him uncomfortably of how natural she’d been with Riley when he’d entered the kitchen, following the sounds of the baby’s cries.
Seeing the baby at her breast had brought home a whole new range of emotions. Erin offered sustenance to her son from her own body. It was perfectly natural, and yet he’d never even stopped to think about the baby’s level of dependence upon her as his mother. He wondered if Laura would have been the same—if she’d have nursed their child. They’d never even taken their discussions that far. Instead, their focus had just been on the business of getting pregnant. That focus had been consuming to the point of excluding almost everything else.
Guilt swamped him anew, making him feel disloyal to his late wife’s memory. It seemed like a betrayal to Laura to be here, to be holding this child who might be his but not theirs. To be watching Erin Connell and not Laura. If he’d only been on time to pick Laura up for their appointment instead of insisting on attending to just one more issue that had cropped up at the office. One more issue that he’d since been forced, by his injuries, to learn to delegate. But it was far too late now. Too late for Laura and too late for the child conceived for them at the fertility center.
Even surrogacy was out of the question. As far as he knew, their viable embryos had been destroyed in the clinic failure that had resulted when several anomalies had been discovered in their business practices. Anger licked at the edges of his mind. A wasted emotion now, he knew. But, according to clinic records, one of those mistakes could mean that this child in his arms had been conceived with his sperm.
“Everything okay?”
Erin’s voice broke through his reverie, jolting him free of the pain of the past and dragging him, all too willingly, into her company and the warmth and welcome of her kitchen.
“Yeah, I’m fine. That smells great.” He nodded in the direction of the table.
“You didn’t specify any dietary requirements, so I hope this will be okay.”
She ducked her head shyly, making him realize he’d been staring at her for far longer than was probably polite. Erin took Riley from him and settled the child in his rocker, where he played and gurgled happily while they sat at the table.
“This is incredible,” Sam said as he tasted the casserole she’d ladled generously onto his plate. “Where did you train?”
“Train?”
“To cook like this.” He lifted another piece of succulent and richly flavored beef to his mouth.
She initially said nothing, just watched as he ate. For some reason, having her watch him wasn’t uncomfortable, unless you counted the state of semi-arousal he’d been in from the moment he’d arrived here.
She averted her eyes from his face and focused instead on her plate. “I’m self-taught, pretty much. Connell Lodge had a cook here when I arrived, but she preferred plain food without much seasoning. I started to experiment with a few dishes, and when she retired soon after I got here James offered me the cook’s role full-time.”
“You were staff here?” That was something that hadn’t been in the dossier his private investigator had put together for him. Mind you, the man had barely had a week to gather information about her, and at Sam’s insistence was still on a quest for more.
“Initially, yes.” A bittersweet smile crossed her face. “I was a bit of a cliché, really—marrying the boss.”
A sharp pang of envy lanced through him. Sam pushed it away ruthlessly. He had no right to feel any envy for the relationship Erin had enjoyed with her husband. He himself had been very happily married—hadn’t even so much as looked at another woman in the years he and Laura had been together, and in the aftermath of her death, he’d sworn he never would again.
Erin continued. “The rest, as they say, is history.”
“So, what brought you here in the first place?” He was keen to fill the gaps in what little he knew of her past.
“I applied for work—general house duties. It was heading into winter and one of their regulars had fallen and broken her leg, leaving them short staffed. I was staying at a hostel about half an hour from here and saw a notice in the local paper, so I hitched out and applied for the job.”
“And never left,” he commented. “What did you do before you came here?”
Her expression changed, the friendliness in her eyes disappearing as effectively as if he’d just stolen her most precious possession. And, he suddenly realized, wasn’t that what he was here to do, after all?
“Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that,” she answered evasively. “Nothing important.”
Clearly, she didn’t like to talk about her past. More, he had the instinctive sensation that she was hiding something there that she would rather not have brought into the open. That instinct was what had led him to be where he was today. It had driven him to the top of his field in software development because he was never satisfied with simple answers. It made him all the more determined to discover everything he could about her. This irrational attraction toward her aside, he found he needed to know whatever it was that Erin Connell was hiding. Any secret could be a weapon to get him his son.
Three
Erin carefully sealed the envelope addressed to the San Francisco city law firm acting for Party A. Inside it was her very cautiously worded letter in which she requested more information to support Party A’s request. She could only hope that the mail would take several days to reach them, even though deep down she knew it probably wouldn’t take more than a few.
The past couple of days had made it easy to put the whole matter out of her head. She had been busy taking care of her guest—keeping his rooms tidy and clean, providing his meals for him and shamelessly enjoying his male company while she did so. And then there was Riley, who was growing and changing daily—she could hear him gurgling happily through the monitor on her hip. She’d left him on his play mat in her sitting room while she dashed to the office to get the envelope.
Yes, it was a busy life and she loved it. She didn’t want to lose it.
She had an appointment in South Lake Tahoe midmorning with Janet Morin to see if she could get a better idea of where she stood in this whole business. Janet had been more than happy to make time to see Erin when she’d called and loosely explained her situation. The woman said she’d be happy to advise, pro bono, and Erin’s relief had been palpable. Now, something that had filled her with dread was not so scary after all.
Erin started to put the envelope in her handbag and turned to leave the small office she’d adopted as her own when she’d taken over the administration side of running Connell Lodge a couple of years ago. She walked straight into the solid wall of male muscle that was Sam Thornton—her bag and its contents flying in one direction, the envelope in the other.
She reached out to steady herself, her hands coming to rest on a broad expanse of chest, the fine cotton of Sam’s shirt doing little to hide the definition of lean muscle behind it. At the same time, strong warm fingers closed around her upper arms. She could smell the clean scent of him, the slightly spicy tang of his cologne a subtle fragrance that was purely male and as intoxicating as hell.
Her breathing became uneven as she looked up into his eyes—eyes that were dark and stormy and bored straight back into her own. For a crazy second, Erin almost thought he was going to kiss her. The thought filled her with both terror and intrigue. What would he taste like, how would his lips feel on hers? And then the moment was gone. Sam’s eyes became cooler, remote, and he gently set her away from him and took a step back from her. She must have been imagining things. Maybe even wanting things a little too much. She forced herself to look away and bent to collect the scattered contents of her bag just as Sam did the same.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice a little rough around the edges. “I was distracted. I didn’t see you.”
“No, it’s my fault, I should have knocked before coming in.”
His long-fingered hands closed over the envelope and Erin saw him hesitate a moment before passing it to her. Sam was from San Francisco. Did he recognize the name of the firm on the front of the envelope? Did he wonder what she was doing sending mail to them? She gave herself a mental shake. What would he care anyway? Whatever her legal business, it had nothing to do with him.
She finished stuffing her things into her bag and rose to her feet, suddenly very aware of Sam and of how close he now stood.
“D-did you want me for something?” she stuttered, drawing in another breath of his essence before stepping backward.
“I need to print some things,” he said, his stony-gray gaze never leaving her face. Did he somehow know how much he rattled her? How his very presence made her want things from him she had no right wanting or even thinking about? “I was wondering if the printer here in your office was wireless and if I could set up the drivers in my laptop so I can send to it.”
The banality of his request dragged her concentration very firmly away from where it was heading. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s an old printer and we’ve never had a need for a wireless setup. I’m going into town this morning, though. I’d be happy to swing by the office supply store and pick up a printer for you to use upstairs.”
Mentally she counted the cost of what getting that printer would be. Surely he wouldn’t need top-of-the-line. Something basic would do and hopefully that wouldn’t be too expensive.
“Why don’t I come with you?” Sam suggested. “I can buy it myself and get some paper and other supplies at the same time. What time are you leaving?”
“Oh,” Erin said, looking at her watch, calculating the drive into town and factoring in the change to her original plans. “Let’s say in half an hour, nine o’clock. I have an appointment at ten that I can’t be late for, but leaving at nine should give us time to go to the office supply store and then maybe I can drop you somewhere before I head to my meeting?”
“Don’t worry about dropping me anywhere. I wouldn’t want you to be late. Just leave me to get the printer and I’ll wait for you near there. There must be somewhere that has a chair, a newspaper and a cup of coffee close by.”
Erin felt a wave of relief. Juggling Sam around her visit to the lawyer’s office could have gotten a bit messy time-wise.
“There are plenty of places that do just that. Well, if you’re sure, perhaps we can leave a little after nine?”
“That’d be great,” Sam nodded. “Are you bringing Riley?”
“No, not today. A friend of mine is coming here to look after him.”
Sasha had jumped at the chance to babysit Riley for a couple of hours. She had also teased Erin mercilessly about finally being forced to share her guest with someone else. Erin felt a rush of heat stain her cheeks recalling how she’d described Sam to her friend over the phone. Sasha’s sudden shrieked response of “You’re attracted to him!” had been an unpleasant shock. Her feelings had to be blatantly obvious if Sasha could pick up on them over the phone. She’d vehemently denied any interest in Sam, but Sasha hadn’t been deterred. Erin could only hope her friend wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Sam when she arrived.
“A friend? Do you trust her with Riley?” Sam’s voice sounded unusually hard, almost disapproving.
“Trust Sasha?” Erin laughed. “Of course I do. I’ve known her for ten years and she’s successfully raising three kids of her own. The youngest has just started school. Sash is my main go-to person when I need a break or can’t take Riley with me when I go out. Besides, she loves him to bits. She wouldn’t let any harm come to him.”
The sound of a car pulling up around the back of the house warned her that Sasha was here.
“That’ll be her now,” Erin said. “I’d better go let her in.”
Sam stood to one side as she bustled past, but not so far away that she didn’t get another enticing whiff of his cologne, borne on the heat of his body. She needed to train herself to hold her breath around him, she decided irrationally. It was getting too hard to be in the same room as Sam without starting to think about things that no young widow with a baby should be thinking about.
Erin headed through the lodge and flung open the back door just as Sasha raised her hand to knock.
“How’s that for timing?” Sasha said with a grin. “Now, where’s my boy?”
Erin leaned forward to give her friend a quick hug before stepping back to let her through. “He’s on his mat in my sitting room and is thoroughly entranced by the play gym you gave him. You spoil him, you know.”
“Ah, he’s easy to spoil. And how are things going with Mr. Handsome?” Sasha asked, waggling her eyebrows. “This old married lady wants to live vicariously.”
Erin laughed, wondering what Sam would think of Sasha grilling her about him. “Old? I don’t think so. And ‘things’ as you so neatly put it, are going just fine. Mr. Thornton is the perfect guest. Not a single complaint from him so far.”
“And what would I have to complain about?”
Erin’s cheeks flared with heat for the second time that morning. She wheeled around to see Sam leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb that led into the kitchen. Damn it, but the man could move as silently as a ghost. Just how much had he heard? She suffered a moment of silent agony at the thought that he might have caught Sasha’s moniker for him, and hoped like mad that he wouldn’t have thought it had come from her.
“Nothing, I hope,” she said with what she hoped was a calmness she was far from feeling on the inside.
“Of course not,” Sasha interjected. “Erin’s one of the best in the business. Hi, I’m Sasha Edsell.”
“Sam Thornton.” Sam offered his hand. “Sorry to interrupt you ladies, but I just wanted to confirm what time we’re leaving?”
“About a quarter past nine, if that’s okay with you?”
“Great, thanks. Nice meeting you, Sasha.”
Sam excused himself to get ready, leaving the two women alone. As he disappeared from view, Erin puzzled over the way it almost seemed that he’d wanted to meet Sasha for himself, as if he hadn’t believed her when she said she trusted her friend with Riley. She eschewed the idea as quickly as she thought it. It wasn’t as if Sam had any say or interest in Riley’s welfare beyond that of a casual observer.
Sasha fanned herself theatrically. “Oh, my, you weren’t kidding when you said he was handsome. I don’t blame you for taking him with you today. If you left him behind I might have been inclined to jump his bones myself!”
“Sasha, please!” Erin said, putting a finger to her lips to caution her friend to silence. Sometimes Sasha’s enthusiasm for an idea was simply irrepressible and Erin couldn’t fight the smile that tweaked at her lips. “Besides, Tony would never approve.”
She didn’t for one minute think that Sasha would cheat on her husband. Her friend was very happily married but, as she’d pointed out more than once, she wasn’t blind.
“How are you going to manage with the gorgeous Sam for your trip into town?” Sasha asked as they entered the sitting room before picking Riley up for a cuddle.
“It won’t be a problem. He needs some stuff from the office supply store so I’m leaving him there. It’s just across the road from the lawyers. He said he’ll wait for me until I’m done.”
“Did you notice something familiar about him?” Sasha asked. “I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Familiar? No. Maybe you’ve seen him in the papers or something. I believe he’s some high-flying businessman in San Francisco, but he’s here on some kind of sabbatical to write a book.”
“Hmm, you could be right. Ah well, it’ll come to me if it’s important. You should go and get yourself ready if you’re going to leave on time,” Sasha urged. “Riley will be just fine with me.”