Secret Son, Convenient Wife Page 3

  “That’s probably the anesthetic. It may not have worn off.” And she couldn’t help but add, “Look, I have no doubt all the attention he’ll get from you will be a novelty to him at first, but it can’t last. There’s more to being a father than claiming a child as your own.”

  “You say that when you haven’t even given me a chance?”

  “You were quick to drop me like a hot rock,” she said, surprised by how cool she sounded.

  “The two things don’t compare,” he said dismissively. “And actually the shoe is on the other foot. I’d say you’re the person least likely to stick with parenthood.”

  That stung. “I’m a very good mother.”

  “And I’ll be a very good father.”

  Stalemate.

  “Who looks after Nathan while you’re at work?” he fired at her.

  “He goes to a day-care center. And it’s a very good one,” she said defensively. “I wouldn’t leave him there otherwise.”

  “And the job? I ran into your old boss ages ago, and he told me you’d left.”

  Clearly he must not have been interested enough to ask where she’d gone. Why did that hurt now? “I work for a courier company. In the dispatch department.”

  “A bit of a comedown, isn’t it?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with working in a demanding environment. We all work very hard.”

  “I wasn’t denigrating the courier business.”

  Her top lip curled. “No, just me.”

  His look said he acknowledged that. “As my wife, you don’t have to work.”

  “I won’t leave them in the lurch,” she said, then could have kicked herself. She didn’t want to hint that she was prepared to give in to another of his decrees.

  “I don’t think you’ve thought it through, Gemma. There are plenty of people looking for work, and some of them might not like a rich man’s wife taking a job that someone else needs. Would you be comfortable with that?”

  She sent him a sour look. Why was nothing going her way today? He was right, damn him. If she kept working there, word might get out, then how would it look to work friends who struggled to keep their jobs and food on the table for their families? And now that she didn’t have a car, she could just imagine rolling up in Tate’s limo each day.

  “Wouldn’t you rather stay home with Nathan?” Tate asked more quietly.

  There was nothing for it but to admit, “Okay, yes. I miss being with him.” She missed every minute she was away from her son. She’d hated leaving him, even knowing it was good for him to be around other people and that he was in good hands.

  “There you are then. Problem solved.” Tate had a results-driven mind set in everything he did. Nothing had changed there.

  “It’s all black and white to you, isn’t it? There are no shades of gray. No room for error.”

  “Things are what they are. For now, take the time off to stay home with Nathan and we’ll worry about the future later. He needs his mother, and you look like you could do with a long rest from performing two jobs.”

  Inwardly, she slumped with an odd relief, knowing the one good thing about marrying Tate would be getting help. She was so tired. She’d been responsible for everything, with no one to turn to for so long. There had been the trauma of breaking up with him, then the realization she was pregnant, the acceptance that her parents would be no help. Then she’d had to move to somewhere less expensive, find a new local job that would give her time off to have the baby—all without any real break for herself. She’d do it all again, for her son, but it would be nice to lean on someone else for a change—until she could get back to normal.

  “At least I know you didn’t deliberately get pregnant,” he said, surprising her with the backhanded compliment just as she’d started to relax.

  “I could have put a pin in one of the condoms,” she quipped, wanting to rock him.

  His eyes lasered on to her. “Did you?”

  She blinked. “Of course not. Anyway, why would I?”

  “Seems clear to me.” He looked around the room. “You had a lot to gain.”

  She was offended by the suggestion. “I don’t believe I’ve asked anything of you. In fact, I don’t want anything from you. Not a damn thing.”

  He regarded her, his expression one of mockery. “You know, I look at you and wonder how I could have been such a fool.” His gaze slid down, then up. “Of course, you do have a great body, and you can certainly charm a man right out of his pants.” He paused just enough to be insulting. “But you know that already, don’t you? You don’t need me to remind you how quickly I took you to my bed…and how quickly you let me.”

  All at once she knew she was fighting for something more than her son. She wasn’t sure what. Perhaps the right to be judged fairly and honestly.

  “Tate, no matter what has happened between us in the past, I don’t—and can’t—regret having Nathan.” She angled her chin in defiance. “So do your worst…but do it to me.”

  A dash of admiration entered the depths of his eyes, but a sudden knock at the sitting room door stole it away.

  Tate opened the door.

  The housekeeper stood there. “Mr. Chandler, there’s a phone call for you. It’s your father. He says it’s urgent.”

  Tate seemed to stiffen. He turned to Gemma and nodded, before stepping out in the corridor and closing the door behind him. She sagged against the sofa, glad he’d gone. She needed the breathing space…needed not to think. Lord, it had been such a long day.

  Tate was back too soon.

  This time he didn’t bother to knock.

  And this time his face seemed to be carved from stone.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “The hospital announced a few weeks ago that my family’s going to be the recipient of a humanitarian award. It’s for our support of the hospital, especially the children’s wing, over the years.”

  “That’s very nice.” She didn’t have it in her to be enthusiastic right now. She had too much on her mind.

  He didn’t look happy. “One of the newspapers just called my father. They wanted to know how he feels about being a grandfather.” He paused. “They know about Nathan.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Dammit, Gemma, they wanted to know why I turned my back on my son.”

  “No!”

  “What else would you think they’d make of it?” He shot her a suddenly suspicious look. “Did you tell that nurse anything about us before you left the hospital? It seems strange that a photographer waited for us long after the ceremony ended.”

  She gasped. “I didn’t! Why would I?”

  “You knew I wouldn’t walk away from my son. Perhaps you thought you could get the public on your side, so they’d think I’m a rotten father. That way, if you tell them what a terrible person I am, you might win any future custody battle.”

  “No!” She was appalled he’d think she’d do something like that. She’d never do it to Nathan. One day he’d grow up, and she wanted him to respect his father, despite how she felt about Tate personally. “My son is not a commodity to be used like that.”

  He held her gaze. “I’m glad to hear you say that about our son.” His brow knitted together. “It must have been someone from the hospital.”

  He believed her? She wanted to cry with relief.

  She forced herself to think. “I can’t see it being Deirdre. She was too professional. And the doctor didn’t seem to recognize you.” She tried to remember everything from the moment she’d run into Tate. “There were plenty of other people in the recovery room. Any one of them could have put two and two together.” With the crib being away from the others, Gemma suspected she and Tate had been out of hearing range. “Our body language would have been enough to show something was up.”

  “True.” He expelled a breath. “Dammit, if one newspaper knows, you can bet the rest will, too. It’ll crush my grandmother if the hospital decides not to give the award. She and my gra
ndfather worked hard to support them and my parents carried on the tradition.”

  “Would they really do that? Take it away from your family, that is.”

  He arched a cynical brow. “My family receives a humanitarian award, yet it looks like we can’t even be responsible for a child of ours? What do you think?”

  He was right.

  “Bloody hell, the timing couldn’t be worse.”

  Her chin came up of its own accord. “I’m sorry if you feel our son is an inconvenience.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, for the first time looking really upset.

  It was such an unusual sight that Gemma felt an unwelcome surge of sympathy. “Perhaps you could appeal to the board’s better nature?” she asked, but she knew it was a silly suggestion the minute the words left her mouth.

  “Do they have one?” he quipped, though his sarcasm wasn’t directed at her. “No, as much as I hate to give in to them, I’ll have to make a statement acknowledging Nathan as my son and telling them we’re getting married as soon as possible.”

  “But we were getting married for Nathan’s sake anyway,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, but now we’re going to put on a real show. I don’t want a scandal following our son all his life,” he said, his voice low and rough.

  Her heart filled with warmth to know he had a vested interest in Nathan’s well-being. “What sort of show?”

  “We’ll say we had a misunderstanding that’s been righted, and we’ll show them how much in love we are.” He paused. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble playing your part. You did it once before, remember? You totally hoodwinked me. I’m sure you can do it again for everyone else.”

  So it was back to this.

  She lifted her head high with dignity. She’d just about had enough. “Please leave.”

  Clearly no one had ever said that to him before. A muscle flexed in his jaw, then he swung around and grabbed the door handle. “My parents will be here within the hour. They want to meet their grandson.”

  He was gone.

  Their grandson, he’d said.

  They didn’t want to meet her.

  Gemma stood there feeling insignificant and small—a nobody who amounted to nothing in the lives of the family she was soon to marry into.

  Welcome to the world of the Chandlers.

  Three

  Ten days later, Tate stood at the end of the red carpet in his family’s country estate north of Melbourne and watched a vision descend the sweeping staircase into the old ballroom. He heard the guests’ gasps of delight, and pride swelled inside him. Gemma looked so beautiful and elegant, her strapless white wedding gown cascading down to the ground. If he had been in love with her, he would have had a lump in his throat right about now. Under the right circumstances, he would have been happy to have her as his wife.

  God, this woman certainly knew how to make a grand entrance, even at her own wedding. Was it intentional? Probably. Yet he saw her hand slightly gripping the banister. Perhaps she wasn’t as self-assured as she wanted to appear. Nothing was ever as it seemed with Gemma.

  Like right now, he mused. Gemma’s parents were overseas, and she said she had no other relatives, so his father had offered to walk her down the aisle. She’d thanked him and shocked them all by refusing. And she hadn’t budged.

  It didn’t make a difference to the outcome. They were still going to be married today. Only his immediate family knew they weren’t in love. The other guests had to be convinced they were. Tate didn’t want his son growing up tainted by rumors that his father hadn’t wanted him. As far as Nathan was concerned, he would know he was the reason for bringing his parents together. Today was really all about his son. And if Gemma let Tate down, then she’d be letting Nathan down, too. She knew a lot was riding on her performance today, hence her stunning entrance.

  Just then, she reached the bottom of the stairs, took a moment to brace herself in an enchanting fashion and started her walk down the aisle.

  His heart thumped as she came toward him, her eyes on his, not missing a step. She was most of the way, when her gaze slid sideways to the front row. An extremely cute Nathan in a little tuxedo was being cuddled in his grandmother’s arms.

  Without warning, Gemma stepped away to kiss her son on the cheek, causing a murmur of approval. Cameras clicked, and just that quickly he wondered if the loving gesture had been just to win the hearts of their audience. If so, it had done the trick.

  She stepped back onto the red carpet and continued toward him. Up close, their eyes connected. He could see the nervousness on her face. All at once he found himself holding out his hand. After the briefest of hesitations, she accepted and slipped her palm in his. He brought her to him, lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. She wasn’t the only one who could make loving gestures, he told himself.

  The ceremony began and Tate concentrated on that, not letting himself think about more than putting on a show. The vows seemed to be said by someone else, the wedding rings exchanged by another couple. He wouldn’t let himself become sentimental. This was how it would be with any other woman.

  Soon it was time to kiss the bride, and that’s when Tate felt something inside him stumble. He’d missed kissing her.

  He managed to look deep into her eyes, fully aware everyone would think the stare meant love. Only Gemma would see what he was truly saying.

  Kiss like we mean it.

  He dipped his head and placed his lips against hers. They were cool, and he could deal with that. He wanted cool between them. This show wasn’t the place for passion. This was about sealing their vows with a kiss.

  And then her lips quivered slightly, and without warning his mouth took on a life of its own. Her lips parted, her taste burst into his mouth.

  A loud noise broke them apart, but it was reluctant on both sides. He caught the same sense of shock he felt reflected in Gemma’s eyes before he turned to see that Nathan had dropped his toy car on the parquet floor.

  “I think your little boy wants the attention now,” the female celebrant said, and everyone laughed.

  The ceremony was over.

  “Yes, he’s a natural,” Tate agreed, glad to ignore how the softness of Gemma’s lips had clung to his.

  For show?

  He didn’t think so, he told himself, not happy about his part in that kiss either—nor the aftereffects of it. He’d thought he was immune to her. Now he knew he wasn’t. How easily he could succumb to her charms again. He’d just have to make sure her lips weren’t beneath his too often, if at all. Today was the exception.

  “You’d better get used to the interruptions,” an uncle said, approaching them with his wife at his side. Then the older man chuckled. “Look, Gemma’s blushing already.”

  Tate saw pink tingeing her cheeks. “My blushing bride,” he teased for the benefit of the others as he slipped her arm through his.

  The official photographer took a couple of pictures, then others came up to wish them well, and somehow he and Gemma were separated. Frankly, he was surprised so many guests could come at such short notice. On the other hand, everyone liked good gossip, he thought with a touch of cynicism as he glanced through the French doors leading out to the terrace.

  The extensive lawn had a large tent set up with tables and chairs as well as a dance floor. The landscaped gardens flowed down to a man-made lake. They’d decided not to have a formal wedding feast, merely the ceremony and as few speeches as possible, but plenty of food and drink and dancing if anyone was inclined.

  His mother caught up with him, now minus her grandson. “Where’s Nathan?” he asked.

  “Bree’s showing him off.”

  He smiled as he caught sight of his younger sister getting Nathan to clap hands for a few of the guests.

  “That was a really lovely ceremony, darling.”

  He dragged his focus back to his mother, and the trace of hardness he always felt for her returned. “Y
es, it was very convincing.”

  Her eyes flickered, noting the change in him, but she ignored it. “I do so wish Gemma’s parents could have been here. It would have been nice if her father had walked her down the aisle.”

  “She was adamant about not interrupting their Mediterranean cruise.”

  “Hmm,” his mother said, a frown creasing her forehead. “Something’s not quite right there.”

  He agreed with his mother’s assumption, but he had too much on his mind to worry about something that didn’t concern him. “That’s what Gemma wanted, so we respected that. It’s none of our business.”

  Darlene sighed. “What a pity Drake couldn’t make it either.”

  Tate stiffened. “Yes,” he lied.

  He hadn’t called his best friend until a few days ago. He’d intended to point out it was best the other man didn’t come to the wedding, but before he could say the words, Drake had wished him well and told him he couldn’t get away. Tate knew that was just Drake’s way of being a good friend, but it had been a relief.

  “He’s in Japan, you said,” his mother continued as Gemma joined them.

  “Drake’s in the middle of trade negotiations.” He felt Gemma freeze.

  Tate wanted the subject changed.

  Now.

  “Still, he’s your best friend. He should have been here.”

  Tate forced a smile for his new bride as he again slipped her arm through his. He wished his mother would shut the hell up. “Everything looks great, don’t you think, Gemma?”

  For a moment it didn’t seem that she would manage a smile, but one appeared, if a little weak. “Yes, you’ve done a wonderful job, Darlene.”

  Darlene sent a really warm smile to her new daughterin-law. “Thank you. I wanted it to be a special day for you both.”

  Then it was a pity she had mentioned Drake, Tate thought, surprised that his mother and Gemma had hit it off so well. Of course, the two women didn’t know it, but they had a lot in common. Both of them had betrayed the men in their lives. Perhaps that’s why his mother had a soft spot for Gemma.