ONE OF HUNTER’S dark brows pulled down and in. Not in an aggressive or angry way. More an indication that he was concentrating or trying to solve a puzzle. It was as though he were studying the behavior of an animal that didn’t make sense to him.
“This is too much,” she expounded.
He lived in a two-story mansion in the top of Toronto’s most expensive building. The toilet lid had lifted as she entered the powder room, for heaven’s sake. The seat warmed itself. He had bought out a vineyard and owned real art. Not cheap prints, but actual originals by famous dead people.
No wonder he had set a one-night limit when he invited her into his room at that B and B. No wonder he had never tried to call her and had brushed her off so unceremoniously when she reached out to him. Bringing her here wasn’t about trying to “protect” her and Peyton. He was hiding them. He was trying to protect himself and this lifestyle of his.
“You and Dad are making decisions for me that aren’t yours to make,” she added, resenting it all over again. She kept thinking, If I had just said no, if I had insisted on going to yoga, none of this would have happened. Her father would have been forced to tell her what he wanted to do and none of this would have happened.
Hunter’s lips parted as though he was about to say something.
“This isn’t fair. It’s not right.” She hurried to talk over him, but she was distracted by his mouth. She had forgotten how full his bottom lip was. It was wide and undeniably masculine. Powerfully sexy. Everything about him was screaming superiority and affluence and seductive appeal, from his clean-shaven jaw to his shiny shoes. It was disconcerting. Intimidating.
His natural air of authority tempted her to trust him and let him take over, which scared her. This baby they’d made had already consumed her life, and Peyton had come about because Amelia allowed herself to leap into a brief infatuation. At least when Hunter had offered one night and that’s all she’d given him, it had been an even exchange.
Today she was seeing the endless resources he had at his disposal. Independence was one of the few she had left, so she was exercising it.
“You can’t take over my life,” she insisted, even as she felt as though she was talking to a cat. A big, dangerous jungle cat that only noticed her because she was making noise. He was flicking his tail with boredom, letting her chatter and squawk because he wasn’t hungry yet, but he had the weight of his paw on her, making it impossible to get away. “We share a baby, but we can work out how to share her in a way that doesn’t involve you keeping me here like some prisoner in a tower.”
His chin dipped in the barest hint of You think not?
“My cousin’s husband works in Parliament. He’ll know how to handle reporters and keep photographers off the lawn.”
Hunter only brought out his phone and dialed, setting it to speaker when someone named Carina answered.
“Status update,” he prompted.
“They’re calling my flight. One sec.” Presumably, Carina found a place to speak where she wouldn’t be overheard. When she came back on the line, her tone was hushed and rushed, pulling no punches. “It’s trending. Obviously, there’s been a race for scoops by the online editions. The general tone is that Eden is a victim, you’re a cad, Amelia is the other woman.”
Amelia’s mouth fell open with affront.
Hunter touched his lips and nodded, indicating she should stay quiet and listen.
“Eden has put out a brief statement confirming the wedding was called off. We’ve requested she coordinate a more detailed statement with our team, but we’ll see if she complies. We have also confirmed the wedding is off, making no comment on the baby rumors. We’re promising further information in due course and have requested privacy at this time. We’ll know better on Monday how this affects stock prices. The anticipation is a drop of six points. There’s an emerging narrative that the Waverly scandals are more of a family-wide issue, not just Irina, so recovering stock value could take time. Most of the directors were at the wedding. Did you talk to any of them? Some are asking for an emergency meeting.”
“I know who’s asking,” Hunter said. “Put that off at least a week so stock price can level.”
“Will do. The nurse should arrive within the hour. How confident are you that the baby is yours? Vienna had the idea for your grandparents to take Amelia’s father to their cottage.”
“Confident,” he stated, holding Amelia’s gaze so unwaveringly, her breath halted in her lungs. “They should do that and plan to stay at least a week, likely two.”
“Done. When can I sit with Amelia? We need everything they might dig up on her family so we can get ahead of it. And photos. The ones from the winery are making it too easy for attack. Once we’re on an apology tour, we’ll get family photos and a feature, but right now I suggest staging something for paparazzi that shows her being a protective mom and you being the helpful dad.”
Amelia recoiled, unable to find adequate words to express her outrage and disgust.
“See if Vienna’s stylist is available,” Hunter said. “If not, find someone and come straight here when you land. See if one of the visitor units is open so you can stay in the building.”
“Will do. Final call for boarding. See you soon.”
He ended the call, brows lifting in a very annoying, supercilious way.
“Carina was also on vacation, visiting family in Nova Scotia.”
“Now it’s my fault her vacation has been interrupted?”
“I’m saying it would be rude if you decided not to be here when she’s on her way to meet with you.”
“Like I have a choice!” she cried, becoming teary as she heard again, Amelia is the other woman.
“You always have a choice,” he said in a tone that sounded patronizing. Pitying. “You can leave if you insist, but until I know otherwise, Peyton is my daughter. Therefore, it’s incumbent on me to protect her. If your leaving puts her in danger—”
“Don’t you dare threaten me,” she warned, insides beginning to quake.
“It’s not a threat. It’s reality. This is what we’re up against.” He indicated his phone and everything Carina had revealed. “Let me protect both of you.”
She refused to believe her life was spiraling this far out of her control. Surely Carina was exaggerating?
“Where’s the diaper bag?” she asked, looking to the door to the lounge.
“You should find everything you need for Peyton upstairs.”
“I want my phone.”
“To confirm what’s being said?” He shook his head gravely. “That wouldn’t be productive, Amelia.”
She held his stare while pressure built in her chest and throat and behind her eyes. I’ll do what I want. You’re not the boss of me. This doesn’t have to happen this way.
“This is all your fault!” she blurted childishly.
“And I’m taking responsibility.”
“Oh—!” She spun and hurried back to the foyer where she hovered her hand over the bag, then snatched it up before starting up the stairs.
Peyton was overdue for a change and was still wearing the short-sleeved onesie Amelia had put her in this morning. Here in this air-conditioned palace, she needed warmer clothes.
At the top of the stairs, Amelia glanced in the first open door and found a tastefully decorated guest room brimming with deliveries. Boxes and shopping bags were spilling out of the floor of the closet. Clothes in infant sizes hung from the rail. A playpen was set up in the corner and next to it stood a high-end changing table with a bumper around its padded top. Its shelves were stocked with diapers and creams and wet wipes—all the organic, biodegradable, skin-sensitive brands. Big spender.
She pulled a cotton sleeper from her diaper bag and placed Peyton on the table.
Hunter leaned in the doorway. His long jacket was abandoned somewhere, but he still wore his snug vest and tailored trousers. The suit emphasized the power in his shoulders and wide chest. His shirt strained against his biceps as he folded his arms.
“You’re just going to stand there and continue to intimidate me?” Amelia asked.
“Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was observing a caretaking procedure.”
“You want to learn how to change her?”
“So I can evaluate the nanny’s competence once I hire one, yes.”
“I look after her myself. If you’re not prepared to do that, why would I grant you any access at all?” she asked with peevish superiority.
“It was a joke.” He came to stand on the pedal of the waste basket, holding the lid open for her. “And, look. You’re allowed to be angry.”
“Gosh, thanks.” The wet diaper landed with a dull thud in the bottom of the can.
“But it doesn’t change anything. I’m furious, too,” he said in a tone that was almost conversational. Nice weather, eh?
Behind his eyes, however, there was a flash of incendiary fury that made her suck in a breath that burned.
“Gaining custody and the right to provide for her is something I have to do,” he said in an implacable tone. His pensive look skimmed her face, then shifted to Peyton. “It’s not performative. I didn’t arrive here the way I thought I would, but I’ve always known what kind of father I wanted to be.”
Amelia’s pulse skipped, and she paused in securing the fresh diaper. “What kind is that?”
“Present,” he said flatly. “One who does the right thing. One who protects his child instead of putting his own whims and desires first.”
Her umbrage against him eased a notch. She tried to remember what she knew of his family, but it wasn’t much. His father had died a few years ago and there’d been a drawn-out court battle with his stepmother over control of Wave-Com. He’d been in the middle of that when they’d met, not that he had talked about it. Remy had made some remark about the golf weekend being necessary to help his friend unwind, though.
In the weeks after, Amelia had been consumed by her search for Jasper. She hadn’t followed the twists and turns of Hunter’s journey to legal triumph. By the time she realized she was pregnant with his baby, he was out of the headlines and she was turning inward with grief.
To her mind, though, all of those things reported on TV had happened to someone else, not the Hunter Waverly she knew. The man she had slept with had been surprisingly human while the one on TV was a mythical legend from a dynastic family. That one had wealth and power and little empathy for mere mortals like her.
That was the one who confronted her today. He had no compunction about sweeping her into his world and mercilessly making her face how impossible it was for her to go back to the life she knew and loved. He was so armed and armored, she couldn’t touch him.
But for a second, one tiny second, she saw the man who had held her hand and called her amazing and made her feel incredible things.
She blinked, and he was turning away.
“I’ll change and meet you downstairs. Our lunch will be here any minute.”
“You said you liked sushi.” Hunter’s voice broke into Amelia’s introspection. “Do you prefer a fork? I’m not a purist.”
“Pardon? Oh.” She adjusted her grip on her chopsticks and blinked at the array of seafood before them. While she had taken a couple of rolls, Hunter had polished off half the platter and most of the teriyaki chicken and seemed to be eyeing the last of the yam tempura, which she had yet to taste.
“I’m not very hungry.” She glanced to where Peyton had just kicked a jangling toy on the play gym arched over where she lay on an activity mat.
What was she going to do? Things were so much worse than she had feared.
“You looked,” Hunter said with heavy disappointment. “Didn’t you?”
“What?” She flashed her gaze back to his, then dropped it guiltily.
This was what she got for searching his name online. She had only wanted to know more about his father and stepmother, but that hadn’t come to the top of the page. Her own name had. Apparently, she was ruining Eden Bellamy’s life.
The Bellamy family was considered a national treasure. Amelia knew that, so maybe she should have been prepared to be vilified, but it wasn’t as if she had done this on purpose! Her baby was completely innocent in all of this, yet there had been some very sickening things said about Peyton as well. Things awful enough to make her want to cry.
“They’re trolls, Amelia. Not worth thinking about.”
“But I had messages from friends. They want to know what’s going on and why I never told them you were Peyton’s father.”
“What did you say?” His words came out fast and crisp enough to lash like a whip.
“Nothing. I don’t know what to say. Other than mind your own beeswax,” she added in a grumble.
He let out an exhale. “That’s why we’re bringing in a team. They’ll clean up your timeline and craft stock answers to the most awkward questions. You’ll feel back in control very soon.”
“Will I?” she scoffed. “Or will you? Because if you’re going to tell me what to say, that’s not really me in control, is it?”
“This is a very big bus, Amelia. I already know how to drive it. I won’t ask you to lie, only stay on message.”
She snorted and picked up a round of BC roll, swirling it in soy sauce and wasabi before popping the morsel of barbecued salmon and cucumber in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, chasing it with a salty sip of her miso soup.
“I’m predisposed to hate PR people,” she explained once she’d swallowed. “The company that sent Jasper to Chile did everything they could to quiet his disappearance. It made them look bad. I would sit with a reporter for hours, pouring my guts out, hoping to get some attention and support. The story would be watered down or outright killed before it posted. If I got a government official to take an interest, they would suddenly ghost me and I’d be back to square one. I can’t prove it, but I know his employers were behind the obstruction. I realize people like Carina are a necessary evil for you, but to me they’re just evil.”
“Understood.” His cheeks went hollow. He had changed into cream-colored pants and a checked shirt. The short sleeves were rolled up once, revealing more of his tanned upper arms. “For me, they’ve always been more necessary than evil. My life has been one publicity nightmare after another since my mother died.”
That’s what Amelia had wanted to learn more about. She stopped chasing a clump of rice and gave him her full attention.
“I remember the odd headline about a wardrobe malfunction and some Twitter feuds. Were there other issues?” she asked.
“So many,” he said with disgust. “You can still find a lot of them online if you look hard enough, even the affairs.”
“She cheated on your father?”
“I don’t know if it can be called cheating if he knew about it and put up with it. Maybe it was her kink to step out, and he got off on being cuckolded. It’s none of my business if that’s the case, but she slept with married men when Dad was in the middle of cutting deals with them. Their wives would find out and everything would go to hell, so it affected the company. That is my business.” He tapped his chest.
“Because you knew the company was coming to you? Or were you working there by then?”
“Both. I barely remember a time when I wasn’t getting a paycheck from Wave-Com. Even before Mom died, Dad would pick us up from school and take us back to the office. We were sitting through high-level meetings before we had our times tables memorized.”
“That sounds like he was at least trying to connect with you and your sister.”
“In his way, maybe. Once Mom was gone and he was married to Irina, going to the office was the only way I could see him without her there. I was fourteen when the first board member came to me, complaining about her and asking me to ‘talk to’ my old man.”
“That’s a terrible thing to ask of a kid.”
“It was, but someone had to. It helped me in the long run. I had relationships with all of them. They backed me when Irina tried to take control of Wave-Com after Dad died.”
“Did she really think she had a chance? Did she have experience?”
“God, no. But ignorance of little things like the law never stopped her from doing what she wanted. At one point, she decided she didn’t have to pay her maid. Dad didn’t find out until the human rights tribunal got involved.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. She did childish, tacky things, too. When Vi got married, Irina had a penis cake brought out instead of the wedding cake. She thought it would be funny. She was always doing things like that. If there was an occasion where one of us was being celebrated, she had to bring us down a peg and grab the spotlight for herself. Today, when your dad showed up, I honestly thought for a minute that she’d hired him, purely to embarrass me.”
“Really?” Amelia lost her grip on her chopsticks. They skewed, sending the round she held rolling off the edge of her plate.
“Really.” He caught it with his fingers and ate it.
“Does she have mental health issues? Trouble processing appropriate behavior?”
“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “That’s no excuse for being mean. And greedy. And criminally irresponsible. She has never tried to curb her own behavior. Trying to help her was a no-win situation. If anything, she enjoys the control of inciting chaos. Of making others fix whatever she breaks.”
“Why didn’t your father divorce her?”
“Great question. He didn’t want to.” Hunter’s rage was so cold and condensed, his clothing should have frozen and shattered, dropping off his body. “I genuinely don’t know what he saw in her. Can anyone be that good in bed that you would let them humiliate your kids on a regular basis?”
An acute pain stabbed in the middle of her chest. “I’m so sorry, Hunter.”
“It’s nothing to do with you,” he dismissed brusquely. “Thankfully our grandparents—the ones who are taking your father to Lake of the Woods—took us as often as they could. They’re my mother’s parents. Prairie folk. Steady as you get. And Irina is in Palm Springs now, married to some other unfortunate twit. You don’t have to worry about her.”
“No, I mean I’m sorry for today. Like, really sorry.” So sorry, she felt sick. “You must hate us.”
“No.” Shadows shifted behind his eyes. “But don’t do it again.” There was no levity in his flat order. He meant it.
Peyton started to fuss, allowing Amelia to escape the intensity of his hard stare.
Peyton immediately began to root, so Amelia brought the receiving blanket with her and sat back at the table, settling Peyton to nurse before she picked up her chopsticks again. Her stomach was still in remorseful knots.
“The truth is, I was glad when you brushed off my text,” she admitted. “I didn’t know how to face you. I felt stupid for getting pregnant.” She had felt like a cliché. Who got pregnant on their first time in this day and age? “I thought you’d be angry, or think I did it on purpose, and I was grieving Jasper so hard.” Her eyes stung and her chest burned whenever she talked about him, but she pushed on. “I didn’t have the energy to work out custody. I needed her to be mine.” She cradled Peyton closer and breathed through the ache that sat like a knife in her breastbone. “But if I had known you would find out like this, I would have come to you sooner.”
“I believe you.” He nodded, but a small spasm flickered across his face. His voice became gruff. “Thank you. I would have loved for Irina to apologize just once. To mean it.”
“I do.”
“I know.” He looked to the window and flicked his hand with weariness. “I make it a policy not to apologize for Irina’s history because it implies I’m responsible for her behavior, but I realize her notoriety colors all of this, making it that much more difficult for you.”
“Why couldn’t you just be the guy at the hardware store?” she said, but bit her lip. He was probably thinking Why couldn’t you be rich and influential like me? “I will play ball with your PR people,” she assured him. “We can do photos or whatever, so you look like a helpful dad. I realize it’s in Peyton’s best interest.”
“Amelia.” Her name was tinged with exasperation. “I intend to be a helpful dad. That’s in her best interest.”
“Nanny remark notwithstanding?”
He didn’t crack a smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth behind his lip, watching her and seeming to consider his words. He picked up his coffee and sipped, then stared into it.
“My marriage to Eden was supposed to demonstrate that I wasn’t like my father. That I’m a steady man who is a paragon of family values.”
She sat back. “Do you hear how cold that sounds? Weren’t you marrying because you love each other?”
“We like each other. Past tense on her part, I imagine.” His mouth curled with self-deprecation. “But our marriage made sense in concrete ways. You’re judging me again.” His eyes narrowed. “There were sound business reasons, and we were both ready to start a family. Arranged marriage is not forced marriage. You feel a lot more comfortable merging fortunes if it will go to children you make together.”
“It’s none of my business.” She tried to sound as though she meant it. Believed it. “I just wouldn’t sign up for a loveless marriage myself. That’s all.”
“No?” His tone had the precision of a scalpel. “Because it’s an effective way to address needs that go beyond romantic delusions.”
“Excuse me,” she huffed. “If you weren’t in love with Eden, that’s fine. In fact, I’m glad.” A little too glad. “It means you won’t blame me for your broken heart, but love isn’t a delusion.”
“That kind isn’t,” he said, waving at the blanket.
Peyton had fallen asleep, so Amelia anchored the blanket with her chin and wrangled to cover herself while trying not to wake her daughter.
“But what did you tell me last year?” Hunter challenged lightly. “That you had recently broken up after a long relationship. You thought you loved him, but you were wrong. Delusion.”
“That was a very specific case.” Of a man who had led her on because he was trying to get her into bed. When she had asked him to wait, he had cheated on her. She didn’t like revisiting her naivete, and she didn’t appreciate having her words thrown back in her face.
She loosely wrapped the blanket around Peyton and adjusted the infant’s position on her bent arm.
“I’ll take her so you can eat.” He rose, and Amelia was too bemused to protest as Hunter picked her up. He was careful not to wake her, and he made sure the blanket was smooth, not bunched beneath her.
He looked surprisingly confident, as though he had been settling Peyton in the crook of his arm since the day she was born. There was even a ruefulness in his gaze as he sat and looked at his daughter in a way that made Amelia’s heart swoop.
She picked up her chopsticks and shoved a bite in her mouth, but couldn’t swallow past the lump in her throat. In her heart of hearts, she had wanted him to look at Peyton that way, but witnessing it was too much to bear. It sparked a panicked sense of threat in her, forcing her to face that they would share custody. She already begrudged him the time she would miss with her daughter.
“What is your vision of marriage? Fall in love with the guy from the hardware store and hope it works out?”
“What’s wrong with wanting to fall for a decent guy with a decent job? My mom worked at the sewing store and fell for the guy from the salt mine. They...” She shrugged, growing teary again because it had seemed like a very simple, common dream that should be attainable by anyone, but it had eventually turned to ash. Now it seemed further beyond her reach than ever. “They were very happy, and I always thought I would have what they had. The house wasn’t fancy and our cars were always used and practical. There were tough times when interest rates went up and Dad was laid off, but it was a very loving home. My brother was my best friend, and he made me boxed mac and cheese when Mom had to work late. Dad taught me to ride a bike and built us a tree house.”
“That’s what you want for Peyton?”
“Now who’s judging?” She lifted her chin, but after a moment, her spine softened and she found herself drawing patterns in a smear of soy sauce with the tips of her chopsticks. “It was what I wanted when I was growing up. I wanted to be a teacher so I could have summers off with my kids. Mom would take them on weekends so I could go on date nights with my husband. She would make cookies and Uncle Jasper would take them fishing with Dad.”
Don’t. Cry.
She sat up straight and took a big gulp of cold water.
“I can still have pieces of that,” she reminded herself. “Maybe I’ll still fall for the hardware guy. Maybe he’ll already have a child of his own. Hopefully Peyton will be as close to his kids as I was to Jasper. It’s not a lost dream, just a different one, but I’m not ready to think about it, so I don’t.”
“I don’t want that.”
“Yes, I know. I saw what you want.” God, Eden was so beautiful. Everything about that wedding had been first class. They would have had their whole lifetime planned, from skiing in Europe to going on African safaris over spring break. Their children would have gone to all the top schools, starting in preschool all the way to the best university. Then they would marry another elite like they were and the legacy would continue.
“No.” His features grew craggy with tension. “I don’t want her to have a stepfather. I want her to have me.”
She opened her mouth, made herself pause and grasp at her patience, but there really was a limit to how much of her life she would let him dictate.
“I can see why stepparents would be a sore spot for you. I get it. I do. Plus, you’re only starting to bond with her so you don’t want me dating anyone and messing with that. I’m not planning to. If I did, I would wait ages before introducing them to her and I swear I would let you meet them first, so quit feeling threatened.”
“No. Amelia.” His smile was so patronizing she wanted to roll her eyes. “I want her to have both of us. In the same house. We can give her as many brothers and sisters as you want.”
“I—” She scratched her brow, genuinely lost because he couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. “What?”
“I want us to marry.”
“No,” she said reflexively.
“Think about it.”
“No.”
There was a ring of some internal bell.
“The nurse is here.” He rose and walked away while Amelia kept thinking, No.