“This baby is my only connection to my sister.”

Jordan continued. “I want to be part of his life, and I want him to be a part of mine.”

“But you spend most of your time abroad!”

“No problem. I’d hire a nanny to care for him while I’m out of the country.”

“A nanny?” Mallory’s expression was outraged. “You’d leave Matthew with a stranger? No way! I’ll fight you in court if—”

“The other option,” Jordan interjected smoothly, “would be for the two of us to share custody….”

Grace Green grew up in Scotland but later immigrated to Canada with her husband and children. They settled in “Beautiful Super Natural B.C.” and Grace now lives in a house just minutes from ocean, beaches, mountains and rain forest. She makes no secret of her favorite occupation—her bumper sticker reads I’d Rather Be Writing Romance! Grace also enjoys walking the seawall, gardening, getting together with other authors…and watching her characters come to life, because she knows that once they do, they will take over and write her stories for her.

Books by Grace Green

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3526—THE WEDDING PROMISE

3542—BRANNIGAN’S BABY

3586—NEW YEAR…NEW FAMILY

The Baby Project

Grace Green

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For John

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

“JORDAN CAINE is a cad!”

“Oh, he is, Angelina!” Outrage sparked in Monique’s faded blue eyes. “Leaving our dear sweet Mallory to cope on her own all these months without so much as a postcard.”

“Well, the man does appear to be an adventurer.” Eighty-year-old Emily looked anxiously at the other two over her half glasses. “But sisters, we’ve never even met Mr. Caine. Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt?”

Angelina sighed. “Emily, you can be very trying. Any man who has behaved as badly as he has doesn’t deserve—”

The front doorbell chimed, making them all start. They looked at each other meaningfully, and then with one accord set their bedtime mugs of hot milk on the coffee table.

“She’s here,” whispered Emily. “Let us have no more talk of Jordan Caine.”

All three cocked their heads and listened.

From their cosy nook in the sitting room, they heard brisk footsteps cross the hall. Then they heard the front door opening and Elsa, their landlady, say warmly, “Mallory, come away in. How was your trip? It’s almost midnight! I was beginning to worry about you.”

“I’m so sorry, Elsa. My last day of work, and so many loose ends to tidy…and then the staff surprised me with a Goodbye party and there was no way I could disappoint…”

The voices faded.

After several minutes, during which time the sisters sat tensely without talking, they heard steps approaching. Catching their breath, they turned towards the door and waited.

The door opened.

When Mallory appeared in the doorway, they sighed with pleasure at the sight of her. She looked lovely as always, in a short-skirted black suit, with an ivory shirt and stylish black pumps. Her face was pale and her features strained, but her genuine smile brought her dusky brown eyes to life.

“Hi, ladies,” she said. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Not for the world would they have told her they had waited up to make sure she arrived safely.

“Just finishing our hot milk,” Angelina murmured.

“I’m going along to Number Five now.” Mallory raised both hands and shoved back her unruly auburn locks. “But I hope you’ll drop by and visit tomorrow.”

“Everything’s settled?” Monique asked.

“Everything’s settled.”

“So,” Emily’s tone was awed, “you’ve burned your boats.”

“Burned my boats and my bridges and everything else.” Mallory’s wry smile brought a dimple to her right cheek. “From now on, the only way to go is forward.”

“Good luck, dear,” they chorused.

“Thank you. I’m going to need it!”

With a little wave, she closed the door and walked back into the hallway.

Elsa was waiting for her, with the baby in her arms.

“He’s teething,” Elsa said as she carefully handed over the infant. “He was cranky earlier, but he’s settled now.”

Mallory felt her heart melt with love as she looked down at the sleeping child. Tenderly she ran a finger over his flushed cheeks. “Poor mite.”

“I was along at Number Five earlier and aired out all the bedding. Just pop him in his crib and with a bit of luck he’ll sleep through till morning.”

“I hope so.” Mallory stifled a huge yawn. “I’ll be out like a light myself as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

Jordan Caine slammed the door of his scarlet Lexus, slung his leather travel bag over his shoulder, and strode purposefully up the drive to Number Five Seaside Lane.

The rambling old house was beautifully silvered by moonlight, but he paid little attention to it or any of his other surroundings. This place didn’t interest him. If there was one thing he hated, it was small-town living. He planned to sleep in the house tonight; put it on the market tomorrow; and be on his way again by lunch-time…shaking the beach sand of this sea-salty little Washington resort from his size eleven boots before it had time to stick.

Sliding his key into the lock, he opened the front door and stepped inside. Moonlight streamed down through the skylight above the staircase, and in its bone-white wash, he saw that the roomy hallway was very sparsely furnished.

The only other time he’d been in this house it had been empty. As he’d discussed terms with the Seashore realtor, his voice had echoed back from the bare walls. Apart from a few sticks of furniture the house seemed just as empty now—

A creaking sound came from his left. He spun around as sharply as if it had been a gunshot.

Then frustrated by his hair-trigger reaction, he swore. He hadn’t realized his nerves were still so badly on edge….

The sound had come from the downstairs bedroom. He crossed the hall, turned the doorknob with a stealthy hand, and warily pushed the door inwards.

A low-wattage bedside lamp cast a pool of light over the empty bed, leaving most of the room in shadow—

His heart gave an erratic lurch when he saw that someone—a woman—was slumped in a rocking chair by the bed.

She was asleep; he could hear her regular breathing.

Her face was in shadow but he could see that she had a luxuriant tumble of long curly hair. She was wearing a light shirt with a dark suit; the jacket lay untidily open, the skirt had ridden halfway up her thighs. Her legs—long fantastic legs—were stretched out before her and a pair of high-heeled pumps lay askew on the carpet.

She shifted position and her head lolled sideways, towards the light, giving him a clear view of her face.

His first thought was: “Wow, what a stunner!”

His second thought was a shocked and furious: “It’s that Madison woman!”

What the hell was she doing here? Clenching his hands into fists, he glared at her. He felt an overwhelming urge to grab her by the shoulders, shake her from her sleep, and demand that she explain what she was doing in his house.

His scowl deepened as his gaze flicked to the framed photograph sitting on the bedside table. He recognized it as one of the pictures taken on his sister’s wedding day.

Even as grief tore at him afresh, he felt the old anger rise to block it out. He wanted to smash the picture against the wall—the picture of his sister Janine and that man, looking besottedly at each other. To their right, Mallory Madison, maid of honour, her eyes bright with joy. To their left, Jordan Caine, best man, his happy expression an utter travesty. He’d put on an Oscar-calibre performance that day, in order not to spoil his sister’s wedding.

A wedding that would never have taken place if Mallory Madison hadn’t given the couple her full support, over his own strenuous objections to the marriage.

For that, he would never forgive her.

But it would be a huge mistake to waken her now and confront her—after his recent harrowing ordeal, his emotions were far too volatile. Better to wait till he’d had a good night’s sleep and was more in control of himself.

After giving her one last black glower, he left the room and made his way wearily up the stairs.

There were four bedrooms on this level, and when he opened the door to the first, he found it was furnished with a single bed and a small dresser. The room was obviously not currently in use—it was bare of personal items and the air was stale. He would make it his. Just for the night.

Tossing down his travel bag, he crossed impatiently to the window and pushed it open. Outside, moonlight spangled the jet-black ocean; stars winked down from an indigo sky. And summer scents swept in on the ocean breeze, invoking a poignancy that caught him unawares and made his throat ache.

Irritably, he tugged the curtains shut. And turning away, he crossed to the bed. Stripping to his jeans, he crashed on top of the covers. And within seconds, he was fast asleep.

Mallory awoke at dawn.

And she realized, to her dismay, that she had fallen asleep in the rocking chair, where she’d sat down for a moment after she’d settled Matthew in his crib. She must have been even more exhausted than she’d thought!

Getting up, she stretched to iron out the kinks in her muscles, and then, with an anticipatory smile, she tiptoed over to the crib in the far corner of the room.

Matthew was still asleep. And as always, her heart turned to mush when she looked at the nine-month-old baby. She couldn’t have loved him more if he’d been her own…

And once Jordan Caine had relinquished any claim to the child—as he undoubtedly would, since he’d shown no interest in him till this date—she could legally make him her own.

The problem was she hadn’t the faintest idea where the man was—all her efforts to contact him had been in vain. She hadn’t spoken to him for months—not since the day his sister and Tom had died in a train crash and she’d called to tell him. She knew, of course, how he felt about Tom but she’d believed he truly cared for Janine and she found it unforgivable that he hadn’t come home for her funeral.

The thought lingered sourly as she padded through to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. But as she looked around the big homey room and pictured her new life at Number Five with Matthew, her spirits rose again.

Humming under her breath, she slipped off her rumpled suit jacket and slung it over the back of Matthew’s high chair. While she waited for the coffee to drip, she cut two slices of whole-wheat bread and popped them in the toaster.

Still humming, she pulled back the yellow-and-white gingham curtains. But as she did, two things impinged on her senses and froze the breath in her throat:

She saw a racy scarlet Lexus sitting in the drive…

And she heard a floorboard squeak behind her.

She whirled around. And shock slammed through her when she saw a dark-bearded stranger looming in the kitchen doorway. His hair was black and shaggy; his hands were fisted; and his gray eyes were fixed on her with a ferocious intensity that could only mean murder.

She lunged for the bread knife and clutching the handle with both hands, held it out in front of her, the tip of the razor-sharp blade pointed directly at him.

“I don’t know who you are,” she said in a shrill voice. “And I don’t know what you want, but get out! Right now!”

The stranger raised a cynical eyebrow. “Why, Mallory, dear!” Sarcasm reverberated in his husky baritone voice. “Is that any way to greet your brother-inlaw?”

“Brother-in-law?” The knife trembled in her fingers. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a—”

“Strictly speaking, no. But since your brother was married to my sister, I guess that’s the closest I can come to describing our…relationship.”

Mallory struggled to catch her breath. She gawked disbelievingly, trying to verify his claim, trying to recognize the man behind the black stubbled beard.

She’d met Janine’s brother only once, on the day of the wedding, but then he’d been clean-shaven and elegant and—she’d had to admit it—devastatingly attractive in a black tux. He’d looked like a movie star. This man was scruffy and edgy and wearing nothing but an old pair of blue jeans. He looked like a prisoner on the run.

The man she remembered had been tall and solidly built. This man was tall, but he didn’t have a spare ounce of flesh on his darkly tanned body. He was lean and hard and—

“Oh, it’s me,” he drawled. “Or are you staring because you get your jollies out of looking at a man’s half-naked torso?”

She wrenched her gaze from his powerfully muscled chest and opened her mouth to let fly with a scathing retort, only to have the angry words dry up in her throat. He’d raked back his hair, revealing an inch-long white scar on his forehead. A scar she recognized.

This was indeed Jordan Caine. As she assimilated the fact, she felt faint with relief. For months she’d tried desperately to get in touch with this man so she could put her plans in motion. Now—oh, joy!—he was here.

Controlling a rush of euphoria, she set the knife on the counter. “How did you get into the house?”

“I have a key. Which was just as well—I doubt you’d have heard me if I’d rung the bell, you were out like a light. By the way, you’ll be glad to know you don’t snore.”

She stared at him. “What? How do you know—”

“I arrived in the early hours but before I went upstairs I heard a movement in that bedroom so I checked it out. You were sound asleep in a creaky old rocking chair.”

“You mean…you slept here?”

“Of course.”

Her mind boggled at the absolute gall of the man—walking into the house like that, as if he owned it! With an effort, she held onto her temper. “What do you want?”

“Right now,” he said with a mocking smile, “what I want is coffee. Did you happen to make enough for—”

The toast popped up and to her astonishment, he whirled towards the sound, his body taut. The spring-loaded reaction made her blink. She’d sensed the man was on edge but this was ridiculous. Curiosity burned inside her—

But when he turned to her again, his eyes had a diamond-hard glitter. A warning glitter. Mind your own business. He didn’t say the words; he didn’t need to.

She swallowed back her half-formed questions. “I didn’t make enough coffee for two, but help yourself. I’ll put on another pot when I’ve had my shower.”

“And we’ll talk. You have a bit of explaining to do.”

“I have a bit of explaining to do?” She glowered at him. “You’ve got to be kidding! You’re the one who—”

“Could you pass me a mug?”

Lips compressed, she reached into the cupboard. He stepped over and held out his hand. As he took the mug, she caught a hint of his musky male scent. It was earthy as a dark forest, erotic as an intimate caress. She felt an unfamiliar tingling sensation deep down inside her…a sensation that was as unsettling as it was unwelcome.

She drew back sharply, but not before she’d seen his mouth slant in a knowing smile.

“I guess,” he murmured maliciously as he poured his coffee, “you’re not used to having a half-naked male around in the morning. Sorry if I’m disturbing you—”

“On the contrary,” she retorted with a haughty tilt of her chin, “I’m quite used to having a half-naked male around in the morning—and not only in the kitchen, but in my bed!”

She whirled away from him and stalked out of the kitchen, her cheeks burning. But even as she hurried to the bedroom, she heard his mocking laughter follow her.

The sooner she got rid of him the better, she decided angrily—though she must be careful not to antagonize him. He could so easily put obstacles in the way of her becoming Matthew’s legal guardian, and that was to be avoided at all costs. No, on the surface she’d have to be nice to Jordan Caine. It would be a very small price to pay in the end.

She closed the bedroom door and tiptoed over to check on Matthew. He was still asleep, thank goodness. She hoped he wouldn’t waken till after she and his uncle had had their talk. She didn’t want to be distracted during what was going to be the most important conversation of her life.

“Right, let’s have that talk.” Jordan leaned back against the countertop, watching Ms. Madison through narrowed eyes as she made a fresh pot of coffee. Earlier, touslehaired and terrified, with yesterday’s lipstick and mascara smudged—and with a scalpel-sharp bread knife pointed directly at his heart!—she’d looked sexy as hell. Now, in a demure green T-shirt and perky shorts, with her hair neatly scooped up in a topknot and her face scrubbed clean, she looked even sexier. Too bad she was a redhead; the situation could have been interesting. “For starters, what are you doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.” Taking toast from the toaster, she crossed to the table. “But okay, I’ll go first. I’ve moved in. As of last night.”

He did a double take. “Moved in?”

She buttered the toast. “I plan on living here.” She reached for the marmalade. “For the foreseeable future.”

“In this house? Are we talking about the same place? Number Five Seaside Lane?”

She turned to him, her brown eyes faintly surprised. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

He paused for a moment, and then faking an encouraging tone that set his teeth on edge, he said, “Tell me more about these plans of yours. As I recall, you had a job in Seattle…?”

His nonthreatening manner had its desired effect; he could see her relax, could see he’d put her off-guard.

“That’s right,” she said. And added impulsively, “I have to admit that the last several months haven’t been easy. I’ve driven here every Friday after work, gone back to Seattle every Sunday night. It’s been awful, not being with Matthew through the week. I’ve missed him so much—but now we can be together all the time and I’m so happy about that. You’ll get to meet him in a minute,” she added with a smile. “He’s still asleep, but he should be wakening soon.”

She’d brought a lover here? Jordan stared at her incredulously. “He slept in this house last night?”

“Mmm.”

“He wasn’t in your bed!”

“I don’t let him into my bed every night—only when he’s whiny.”

“Whiny?” Good grief, what kind of a wimp was the guy!

“Look, I’m not expecting you to get involved with him. In fact, I’m assuming you won’t want to and I’d actually prefer that you didn’t. But it would be nice if you could send him a postcard once in a while when you’re abroad—”

“Are you out of your mind? I want nothing to do with him. I don’t even want to see him!”

His vehemence obviously jolted her; but at the same time he saw an expression of relief in her eyes.

“Then that will make everything easier for me,” she said. “I was afraid that if you once held him in your arms you might fall in love with him and want him for yourself.”

“What the hell do you—”

“I’m sorry, but try to see it from my point of view. I’ve been trying to contact you for months so we could straighten everything out but when I didn’t hear from you, I decided to forge on with my own plans on the assumption that you wanted nothing to do with the situation. You can’t blame me, since you didn’t even bother to come home for the funeral! And since you told me at the wedding that you’d never forgive me for supporting Tom and Janine when they wanted to marry, I figured I’d never see you again.”

“My sister was barely eighteen,” he snapped. “Your brother got her pregnant when she was little more than a child herself. He was twenty-four, and took advantage of a girl who was immature and—”

“They married because they were in love.”

“There’s no point in discussing this now. It’s water under the bridge. But you’re right about one thing. I’ll never forgive you for the part you played—”

“I don’t want your forgiveness. Nor do I need it. As for Tom, you never did understand him. You didn’t take the time to get to know him and if you had, you’d have learned what a fine and decent man he was.”

“No decent man would have—” He sliced his hand down in a dismissive gesture. “We’re only rehashing what we said on their wedding day. Let’s get back on track. Tell me about these plans of yours…to live in this house.”

Before answering, she poured her coffee and set the yellow ceramic mug on the table. When she spoke, it was quietly.

“Tom and Janine had signed the lease for a year and on their death it still had several months to run so I took over the payments. The lease came up for renewal last month and I signed the contract for another year at the same rate.” She toyed abstractedly with her thin gold necklace. “It’s a beautiful house, I can’t imagine why the owner lets it out so cheaply. I asked the woman at the Realty Management company but she didn’t know. All she could tell me was that the arrangements had been made through the owner’s lawyer.”

“Well, that all sounds fine and dandy.” Jordan’s lips thinned. “But ‘there’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip’! And I see one little obstacle in your way.”

A frown crinkled her creamy skin into a neat little V between her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Sit down,” he said, “and drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’m going up to have my shower. When I come back down again…I have something to tell you.”

Mallory stared after him as he left the kitchen. What on earth did he mean: an obstacle? It had sounded ominous, yet she had everything under control…didn’t she? The house was hers for at least the next eleven months, and Matthew would be hers forever—his uncle had made it more than plain that he had no interest in the child.

She sat down and drank her coffee. She usually loved that first kick of it the morning, but today it had no effect.

She couldn’t shake a dreadful feeling of foreboding.

She was still trying, without success, to figure out what Jordan Caine could possibly be going to tell her, when she heard the sound of a vehicle chugging up the drive.

Getting up, she looked out the window, over the garden fence, and saw a truck parking behind the Lexus. On the panel, it said AB Movers, the company she’d hired to cart her belongings from Seattle.

Well, at least, she reflected dryly as she hurried to open the front door, something was going according to plan!

CHAPTER TWO

JORDAN HALTED abruptly on the landing. When he’d come upstairs earlier, the front hall had been empty except for a D-shaped phone table and a spindly chair beside it. Now it was crammed with boxes and furniture and all sorts of other paraphernalia…and in the midst of the chaos stood Mallory.

“What the devil’s going on?” he called down.

She looked up. “My things have arrived from Seattle.”

Her things? Dammit, this was an added complication and one he didn’t need. He fought to contain his intense frustration as he glowered at the cardboard boxes…and the several bookcases, the chairs, the pine desk…an oil painting, a dozen potted plants, a set of wicker furniture—

Two men in beige overalls appeared in the doorway, their name tags proclaiming them to be Archie and Rock. Archie and Rock were carrying a teal-blue sofa.

“Where do you want this, miss?” asked Archie.

“In there, please.” Mallory indicated the sitting room, to her right.

As the men hefted the sofa into the room, Jordan pounded down the stairs.

“Mallory—”

She turned to him, and he saw that her cheeks were flushed, her forehead moist. “I know you want to talk to me.” She shoved back a clump of auburn hair that had tumbled from her topknot. “But it’ll have to wait till the men have finished—”

“Get rid of it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He waved a hand around the hall. “This stuff can’t stay here. Tell the men to take it away.”

She looked at him as if he were speaking in tongues. “Would you please go through to the kitchen while I see to this?” Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on him. “Whatever it is you want to talk about will have to wait.”

He grasped her shoulders and spun her around again. “This is what I want to talk about. You can’t stay here. Tell these men to take your things and pack them back in their truck and—”

“Sorry, mister, no can do.” Rock and Archie had come out of the sitting room. Rock handed Mallory a triplicated form. “You’ve checked the number of pieces?”

She nodded.

“Then sign here and we’ll be on our way.”

Impatiently, Jordan said, “I’m telling you, Mallory, I don’t want you living here any more. You can’t—”

Ignoring him, she signed the form.

As Rock ripped off her copy and gave it to her, he grinned at Jordan. “Don’t want her to move back in, buddy? You’re making a big mistake.” He ran an appreciative gaze over Mallory and winked. “This one’s a keeper, mate!”

Sidestepping the boxes, the two men left, leaving the front door wide open behind them.

Jordan looked exasperatedly at Mallory. “You’re going to have to get this stuff out of here—”

“And you’re beginning to sound like a broken record.” Anger made her eyes tawny as a tiger’s. “I told you, I’ve rented this house for the next year and—” She broke off with a “Tsk!” as a rattling noise came from her bedroom.

“That’s Matthew,” she said. “He’s awake—and no wonder, with all the fuss you’ve been making!” She brushed past him. “But you may as well come and meet him now. He’s at his best, first thing in the morning.”

“I’ve told you,” Jordan said grimly, “I don’t want to meet him. What I want is for the two of you to get out of this house right away—”

But she had disappeared into the bedroom.

And next thing, he heard her say in a tender voice, “So you’re awake, are you, sweetheart?” A chuckle. Then, “Oh, Matthew, get your fingers out of my hair…!” A second’s silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

He needed this situation like he needed a hole in his head! Gritting his teeth, Jordan rounded a wicker chair—cursing as he tripped over a vacuum cleaner—and stormed out through the front door. Then with resentment exuding from every pore, he strode down the drive, across the deserted street, and over the salt grass to the beach.

Three miles to the south jutted a rugged cape, with an inn nestled in its sheltering embrace. To the north, the small town followed the curve of the beach to a marina, where he could see yachts bobbing alongside narrow jetties.

He paused for a second, and then headed north.

The realtor’s office was on the town’s main street. He’d walk there now and list the house. That way, when he talked with Ms. Madison again, it would be a fait accompli. The moment the place sold, her lease would automatically be nullified. And it should sell fast, because he would ask a reasonable price. He didn’t need the money. What he needed was to get that woman out of his life, once and for all.

“He’s been gone a couple of hours, Elsa.” Mallory grimaced as she glanced out the sitting room window. “But I can see him coming back now—along the beach. Don’t forget to tell the sisters not to come around today. I’ll give them a call when things settle down.”

“Why has he come to Seashore?” Elsa’s voice came worriedly over the phone line. “He never visited while Janine was alive. Do you think he wants Matthew?”

“Oh, no. He’s made it plain he wants nothing to do with him.”

“Well, that’s good!”

“Mmm.” Mallory rubbed a hand over her nape. “But I feel uneasy. He’s been acting so strangely. Why would he think he had the right to order me to send my stuff back?”

“In my humble opinion, the man’s a control freak. Look how he tried to run Janine’s life! Now she’s gone, he wants to run yours too. But I recall Janine saying her brother hated small towns, so I don’t imagine he’ll hang around.”

Mallory’s nerves tightened as she watched Jordan cross the street, his lean energetic frame set off to perfection in a white T-shirt and taupe shorts. His beard gave him a rakish appearance and as she took in his black hair and rugged features, she had to admit he was an eye-catching sight. But he certainly was not her type! She liked men who were kind and compassionate; strong yet tender—

“Mallory?” Elsa’s voice broke into her musings. “Are you still there?”

“Mm? Oh…yes, Elsa, but I have to go now.”

“Good luck, dear. Let me know what happens.”

Mallory put down the phone and turning from the window, she scooped up Matthew, who was on his stomach, worming his way over the carpet. Slipping his blue T-shirt into his pants, she tucked him into the crook of one arm.

“You’re the most beautiful baby in the world.” She kissed his brow and inhaled the sweet scent of his skin. “And I want you to be a good boy when you meet your uncle. I know he doesn’t want to see you, but it wouldn’t be right to let him leave town without at least saying hello. He’s a bit of an ogre. Do you think you’re up to it?”

“Goo,” he gurgled. And tried to reach her topknot.

She laughed softly and arched her head back. “Oh, you just love to get your fingers into my hair, don’t you!” As she spoke, she heard steps crunching up the drive. And her pulse quickened when she heard Jordan come into the house.

“Mallory!” His deep voice reverberated from the front hall. The voice of a drill sergeant! “Where are you?”

With a fingertip, she tidied a wisp of Matthew’s hair. “Okay, sweetie,” she whispered, “let’s get this over with.”

Bracing herself, she walked out to the hall.

Jordan Caine was standing amid her belongings, with his back to her.

“I’m here,” she said.

As he turned, he held out a long white envelope. “I want you to read this—” He broke off when he saw the baby, and his brow lowered in a dark frown. “What’s going on?”

“I know you don’t want anything to do with Matthew, but it’s not going to kill you to say hi!”

Jordan stared at the baby wriggling in her arms, the infant’s gaze glued to her topknot as he endeavoured to reach it. This was Matthew? Well, he’d really screwed up there, hadn’t he! But it surprised him to see the delectable Ms. Madison with a child. She certainly hadn’t looked pregnant at her brother’s wedding…

He recalled Janine telling him that Tom’s sister was thirty-one and single. And he recalled saying irately to Janine, when she told him that unlike him, Mallory was enthusiastic about the upcoming marriage, “Tell that dried-up old spinster to butt out of our lives!”

That was before he’d met her, of course, and when he did meet her, on the wedding day, he’d found out that far from being dried-up, she was lush as a ripe exotic fruit. But not, definitely not, his type. He felt about redheads the way he felt about small towns…and about babies!

“I know this must be upsetting for you.” Mallory’s voice was apologetic. “I’m sorry. And I know how against the marriage you were, but Janine loved you so much, and I know she’d have wanted you to love this baby too.”

“Why the heck would Janine care if I loved this kid or not? Look, read my lips. I don’t like babies. And I have no interest in this one or any other. So if you’ll just put him back in his crib or whatever, then you and I can get on with business. This—” he waggled the white envelope at her “—is a contract I’ve just signed with Burton Barton, the local realtor. I’ve put the house up for sale.”

“House? Which house?”

“This house.”

“This house?”

“Number Five Seaside Lane. It’s mine.”

She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he’d told her he’d planted a bomb in the basement. “It can’t be yours!”

He felt a pang of compunction when he saw the panic in her eyes. He ignored it. “I bought it before the wedding, when I knew you’d beaten me and that come hell or high water those two were going to tie the knot—”

“It wasn’t a case of beating you! It wasn’t a competition, to see who would win—I just wanted what was best for Tom and Janine—”

“All the arrangements were made through my lawyer,” he continued tersely. “I knew your brother had taken a job in Seashore and I knew they were having a hard time finding a rental place they could afford so I bought this house and made sure they learned it was available—and for a minimal rent, because I wanted my sister to live comfortably.”

“Did they know,” she asked, “that it was yours?”

“No.”

“You did that for them?” This secret, generous gesture put him in a new light. Mallory felt herself soften towards him. “That was so kind of you—”

“I did it for Janine,” he interrupted rudely. “I no longer have any need of the place. End of story.”

Her momentary softness dissipated in a flash. “I’ve signed a one-year lease,” she said in a defiant tone. “So you can’t evict me. At least, not till the year is up.”

“I can,” he said. “And I intend to. The moment the property changes hands, your lease becomes null and void.”

She seemed to shrink back from him. Then she shook her head and her upper lip curled. Unmistakably, contemptuously curled. “You’re quite something, Jordan Caine.”

He hadn’t known that tawny brown eyes could look so cold. “It’s business,” he said curtly. “And there’s no room for sentiment in business.”

“Tom was wrong about you. He believed that despite your overbearing attitude, you were a good man at heart. I’m glad he’s not here to see that you have no heart at all.” She clenched her jaw as she prepared to humble herself. “Can you at least let me keep the house for the summer, to give me time to look for someplace else?”

“No can do. It’s May already and Barton’s going to advertise Number Five as an ideal house for a bed-and-breakfast business, so it will be to a buyer’s advantage to move in immediately, before the start of the tourist season.”

“You’d throw me out in the street—with this baby?” She took in a deep breath and when she went on, her voice had a distinct tremor in it. “I gave up my job in Seattle so that I could work at home and be a good mother to Matthew. I’m on a very tight budget now. I’d never have been able to swing it if I hadn’t been able to factor in the low rent.”

“That’s not my problem. Before you got yourself pregnant, you should have looked to the future. Where’s the baby’s father? Doesn’t he contribute to his upkeep?”

She gaped at him as if he’d sprouted an extra head.

He stabbed the envelope at her. “It’s your responsibility and his. Not mine. What happened anyway? Did he dump you, or did—”

“You think—” she swallowed hard “—that this is my baby?”

He raised a cynical eyebrow. “If he isn’t,” he retorted, “then whose is he?”

“He’s Janine’s, of course!” She sounded as if she was spelling out something incredibly simple to a dim-witted child.

“You’re lying.” He glared at her. “Janine died in the train wreck.” He felt an ache in his heart, the same ache he always felt when he thought about his sister. “She was eight months pregnant, but—”

“Janine had her baby two weeks before the accident!”

He stared at her, his mind reeling.

Hugging Matthew close, she went on in a tone of utter dismay, “Didn’t she call you at the time and let you know?”

He felt the hair at his nape prickle. “You’re saying…this is really Janine’s child?”

She nodded. “Yes, this is really her child.”

“Dear God.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “No, Janine didn’t call…our arrangement was that I would phone her. I knew I’d be out in the jungle most of the time so I told her I’d be incommunicado in August but I’d get back to the mining camp around her due date and give her a call. I was actually back earlier than I’d expected, but before I had a chance to call her, you phoned with the news about the train crash. I was shattered when you told me Janine and Tom had died—and when I asked about the baby, you said there were no survivors in that compartment of the train. I assumed Janine was still pregnant, of course. And at that point, you broke down so I didn’t press you for details.”

“I’d told you everything I knew. But…didn’t you get the message I left for you at the camp the following day?”

“No.” He frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“Jordan, the police turned up at my apartment, hours after they’d notified me about Tom and Janine. They told me the baby had been found in the wreckage, miraculously alive and unhurt. I phoned the camp a second time but you weren’t there so I left a message.” Tears welled up and she blinked them back. “I can’t believe you didn’t get it.”

He struggled to get his thoughts in order. “Why were Janine and Tom traveling by train with a new baby?”

“They were on their way home from L.A.—they’d gone down there for a friend’s wedding. Matthew was born there.”

“Was he premature?”

“No, he was a full-term baby—Janine had made a mistake with her dates. Anyway, Matthew decided during the wedding reception that he was ready to make his way into the world! After they got him out of hospital, Tom and Janine stayed on in their friends’ apartment for ten days. Then they bought a car seat to transport Matthew home.” Mallory’s voice trembled. “The police said it saved his little life.”

For a long moment, she and Jordan looked at each other in silence. Without taking her eyes from him, she wiped a tear away with a fingertip. And then another.

“So,” she whispered finally, “where do we go from here?”

“Janine’s baby. It’s…hard to take this in.”

She smiled wanly through her tears. “He looks like Janine, except for the fair hair.” As she spoke, she moved over to him. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Dazedly, he looked at the infant but as soon as Matthew saw him, the child emitted a scream of terror.

“Honey!” Mallory’s tone was startled. “What’s wrong?”

The baby wrenched himself around and grabbing her shirt, buried his face against her bosom. But even that didn’t altogether muffle his screams.

“Sweetie, what’s the matter?” asked Mallory urgently. “What is it?”

The child twisted his head around, eyes flooded with tears, but the mere sight of Jordan sent him off into a renewed session of frantic screaming.

“It would seem,” Jordan said in an ironic tone, “that my nephew doesn’t like me.”

“Hush, Matthew, hush, sweetheart.” Mallory held the baby against her shoulder and rubbed his back soothingly. To Jordan, she said, “It must be your beard.”

“He’s never seen a beard before?”

“He’s not used to men—bearded or clean-shaven. Through the week, Elsa has been looking after him—”

“Elsa?”

“Elsa Carradine. She lives a few doors along from here. She’s been baby-sitting Matthew during the week. Matthew’s used to being with her, and with her boarders—the three Barnley sisters.”

The baby’s screams had been replaced by convulsive sobs. Mallory went on hurriedly, “I’m going to take him through to the bedroom and settle him, then I’ll put him down for his nap. When I come back, we’ll talk.”

She added, as she left, “And I hope you’ll rethink your decision to sell the house, now that you know the reason for my present financial situation.”

Worn out after his crying bout, Matthew fell asleep as soon as Mallory tucked him into his crib.

Glad to have a quiet moment to herself, she crossed to the bedroom window and looked out. What a shock it had been to discover that Jordan owned the house—and that he was the one who had set the incredibly low rent. She could hardly believe he’d behaved so generously, considering how adamantly he’d opposed the marriage.

How the two of them had fought about it!

She sighed as she remembered the first time they’d spoken. He’d phoned her from somewhere in South America after Janine had told him she was pregnant and planning to marry. He’d called Tom every name under the sun. Unable to fly home immediately as he was under contract to finish a mining job, he’d demanded that Mallory talk the couple out of getting married. She had refused.

He’d been furious. He’d phoned her several times over the next few days, but she’d remained firm. Tom wanted to marry Janine and as far as she was concerned, that was the end of it. Her brother had always had a good head on his shoulders and she had the utmost faith in both him and his good judgment of people.

She hadn’t actually met Jordan Caine till the day of the wedding. She’d been dreading that first meeting, but to her surprise, his attitude had been nonconfrontational.

Only later had he revealed his true colours.

The reception had been held at a lakeside hotel outside Seattle, and after Tom and Janine had left for their honeymoon, Mallory had been feeling weepy. She’d stolen away from the party, and had walked down to the beach.

The evening was late but the summer air was still warm. She’d thought herself totally alone as she’d stood gazing out over the moonlit waters—until she’d heard Jordan Caine’s voice come harshly from behind her.

“I’ll never forgive you.”

She’d turned, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. He was standing a few feet away, his tux jacket shoved back by hands fisted on his hips as he glared at her.

She blinked away the tears that had been blurring her gaze, and tried to gather herself together. But before she could respond, he went on,

“Your brother should be locked up! My sister’s only eighteen—for heaven’s sake, she’s just finished high school! He took advantage of her, got her pregnant, it’s an absolute disgrace—”

“They’re married now. Can’t you just accept that?”

“She’s just a baby herself! She could have had the child adopted—”

“Janine desperately wanted to keep her baby—”

“She’s immature! She’s hardly able to look after herself—”

“Tom will look after them both.” Mallory kept her voice steady despite a spurt of anger. “You need have no worries about Janine…or the baby.”

“Dammit, you’re every bit as stubborn and irresponsible as he is! If you’d backed me up, this wedding would never have taken place. My sister could have had the baby adopted and then gone on with her life—”

“She is getting on with her life. And it’s going to be a good life. Tom starts work in Seashore when they come back from their honeymoon, and they’ve rented a lovely house there, for next to nothing. They were lucky, I admit. If it hadn’t been available, they’d have had to settle for a basement suite…but still, they’d have been happy, because they’re in love—”

A seagull suddenly swooped by the bedroom window, snapping Mallory back to the present.

She could hear footsteps in the room above. Was Jordan packing his things? Getting ready to leave? She hoped so. But she also prayed that before he left, he’d reassure her that he wasn’t going to sell the house. At least, not yet.

He must see things differently, now that he knew the baby was Janine’s. No way would he want to be responsible for throwing his own sister’s child out on the street.

With her heart in her mouth, Mallory went out into the front hall and as she heard his steps approach the landing, she breathlessly waited for Matthew’s uncle to come down.

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