Cinderella's Secret Baby Read online

  The groom’s sidepiece just showed up. Her dad brought his proverbial shotgun.

  Hunter slapped a hand to his lapel, double-checking he hadn’t been on a hot mic this entire time.

  What would be said about this relationship? Nothing flattering. Amelia wasn’t the sharp-witted, confident woman he’d met last summer, the one with straightened blond hair, cat’s-eye liner and long tanned legs beneath a saucy skort.

  She’d become a disheveled and distressed new mother. Her complexion was wan, and she had dark circles under her eyes—standard for new parents from what he’d heard, but it made her look extra vulnerable, and that faded T-shirt and her bargain yoga pants screamed neglect on his part.

  She looked hellish, really, but there was still a clench inside him that he was fighting to ignore. Want. The baby weight made her curvier, which he found intriguing. The huskiness of emotion in her voice kept calling up the sensation of her soft cries spilling against his ear. From the second she had appeared, some animalistic part of him had growled with satisfaction at being near her again.

  No. She had just turned his life into a mile-long train wreck. This woman was dangerous. She was everything he didn’t want.

  “What?” Amelia’s gaze grew apprehensive as she realized he was staring at her. She pressed back into the love seat, cradling the baby closer.

  A knock at the door had him snarling, “Busy.”

  “It’s me,” Vi said.

  Amelia sucked in a worried breath, perhaps expecting Eden, but he swung around to let his sister in.

  “Eden needs to know what’s going on.” She looked at Amelia with curiosity. “The B-Team is assembled online when you’re ready.”

  Hunter would have given up his firstborn to never hear those words again, he thought with dark irony, but he was grateful Vi had put their PR bomb squad on standby.

  The clock had run out. Decisions had to be made.

  He squeezed Vi’s arm and left.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AMELIA WATCHED VIENNA close the door and lock it. She came toward her, then leaned over her to drop the blinds down the window behind her.

  Amelia snorted. “Are you hiding me?”

  “I’m protecting the newest member of our family.” Vienna’s brows went up with indignation. “If it’s true? Please be honest, because I’m about to bond with my niece or nephew.”

  Now that Amelia was clued in, she saw Vienna’s resemblance to Hunter in her tall bearing and dark brown hair. She had his high cheekbones and darned if her cupid’s bow of a mouth wasn’t exactly like Peyton’s. That’s where she had heard her name. Remy had said it last year. What does Vienna think?

  Peyton was fully charged after her nap and meal. She was digging her toes into Amelia’s stomach and pushing her little arms against Amelia’s chest, causing her downy head to bobble against the hand Amelia kept protectively cupped behind her neck.

  Vienna was looking at Peyton with hungry wistfulness, so Amelia turned her and sat her in her lap.

  “It’s true. This is Peyton. She turns ten weeks on Tuesday.”

  “Oh.” Vienna’s tension melted as she sank to a crouch before them. “Hello, sweet pea.” Vienna beamed at Peyton and touched the baby’s hand, gently clasping tiny fingers when Peyton reflexively closed her fist around her finger. “You’re just the most perfect thing, aren’t you?” Her thumb stroked the back of Peyton’s dimpled knuckles.

  Amelia’s heart turned over at how tender Vienna sounded. It gave her hope they might—Well, it was probably a stretch to imagine they could become friends.

  “Please let her know I didn’t mean to ruin her special day.”

  “Eden?” Vienna’s expression cooled and became unreadable. “It’s better she knows before they marry.”

  “Does that mean—?” Amelia’s heart lurched. “She still wants to marry him?” That was good, wasn’t it? Then he wouldn’t blame her for ruining his future.

  So why did she feel as though her own future had just dropped into the bottom of that lake out there?

  Vienna carefully withdrew from Peyton’s grip and gave Peyton’s round cheek a last caress before she pushed to stand over them.

  “I don’t know what they’ll decide. I do know that calling off a wedding isn’t as easy as it sounds.” She bit her lip pensively. “Especially when there’s so much at stake.”

  Amelia suddenly recalled the conflict she had walked through on arrival. She had an urge to ask Vienna if she was all right, but Vienna was smiling at Peyton again, catching her foot to give it a gentle squeeze.

  “Whatever happens, I’m happy to meet you, Peyton. Every cloud has a silver lining, and you are today’s.”

  Did that make Amelia the ominous, unwanted thunderhead?

  She mustered a weak smile, growing overwhelmed as she realized Peyton had more than a father now. She had an extended family and, if Hunter married Eden, there would be step-relations who were all strangers to Amelia, yet they would all imagine they had a right to tell Hunter how he ought to raise Amelia’s daughter.

  Her pulse rate picked up, and adrenaline returned to her veins.

  “Do you know where my dad is?” Amelia rose, trying not to let her voice reveal her panic, but she heard how shrill she sounded. Her shock was wearing off, and she was starting to fall apart. “I should make sure he’s okay. I can’t believe I left him out there with everyone.”

  “He’s having a drink with my grandfather,” Vienna said, as if that was a totally normal thing after objecting to a wedding.

  “Okay, well, Peyton needs the diaper bag,” she lied.

  “Let me hold her while you get it.” Vienna started to extend her arms.

  “You can’t ruin your dress. What if the wedding is back on? Dad and I should really go.” Really.

  “But Hunter will want—”

  Amelia didn’t care what Hunter wanted. She needed to get the hell away from here. She walked back to the tasting room, which had filled up with excited, babbling guests.

  The walk of shame had never been so literal as when she approached her father at the bar. He was talking to a man his age in a pin-striped brown suit. They faced each other, elbows propped on the polished quartz, holding glasses of red wine. Amelia heard something about lake trout as she approached.

  “Dad? Sorry,” she threw at the other man, aware she was being rude. “But if you’re coming home with me, the car is leaving.”

  She ignored his admonishing, “Amelia,” and headed for the exit.

  Outside, she walked through a handful of people who were smoking and laughing. One said, “Oh, hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  She veered around the man, fighting to wait until she was in her car and driving away before she let the tears overflow. Her throat was on fire with suppressed anguish, though.

  The damned car was too hot! She had forgotten to put up the reflecting screen, so the full sun had beamed through the back window onto the car seat, heating up all the plastic and metal parts. The car itself was an oven.

  With a whimper, Amelia shifted to squeeze behind the wheel long enough to start the car and set the air-conditioning to high. She closed the door and left it slightly ajar so she didn’t lock herself out.

  The man had followed her and tried to approach her as she stood in the shade of a nearby tree. Was he really recording her with his phone? Her heart tripped and she turned her back on him, sheltering Peyton with the angle of her body.

  Thankfully, her father came out, but he only wanted to lecture her on her manners.

  “What was that about? Ubert was being very decent about all of this. We thought you would need time to work something out with Hunter, so why are you leaving?”

  “Dad,” she hissed. “Remember how you refused to talk about this until we got here? I’m not talking about it until we get home. Also, those people
are listening,” she added, glaring past him at that hideous man who was edging closer like a feral dog hoping for a dropped sandwich.

  Tobias glanced over his shoulder and grunted his disgust.

  “How did you know he was here anyway?” she was compelled to ask, but she kept her voice pitched low. She deliberately didn’t stalk Hunter online, only occasionally reading headlines in the news related to Wave-Com.

  “I gave Mo the details from your will. He used that tablet his son gave him, told me Hunter was here last year when you were working here. Then he saw the notice he was getting hitched today. It seemed my best chance to catch him in person and give him a piece of my mind. How have you not told him about Peyton? It’s not like you to lie to me. Is it?” His good eye fixed on her.

  “It’s complicated.” And humiliating enough to turn her voice vehement. “I don’t need his money, Dad. Why would you do this?”

  “It wasn’t right that he wasn’t helping. You make children, you look after them.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I’m doing!”

  “With my help. But I won’t live forever,” he added in a grumble. “I need to know you’ll be all right after I’m gone.”

  Her heart sank. “Dad.”

  “Amelia.” Hunter pinned her with his silver-bullet gaze as he came through a bed of petunias, trampling the pink and white and indigo trumpets. His unbuttoned jacket flared open to reveal his gray vest and amethyst tie.

  Her heart lurched in a painfully bittersweet relief. She had been fairly convinced he was patching things up with Eden and the wedding would continue.

  Maybe it would. She searched his granite features, but couldn’t read what his pursuing her to the parking lot meant. As much as The Runaway Groom sounded like an uplifting rom-com, it was actually a nightmare to be the cause of something like this. She felt sick and guilty and very much the target of his resentment.

  The man with the phone turned to catch Hunter’s approach and Hunter seemed to ignore him, but as he got close enough, he grabbed the phone and spun it back the way he’d come, sending the phone into the sea of petunias.

  Oh. Amelia covered her mouth.

  “Hey!” The man swore and ran toward the flower patch.

  The people at the door began to squeal and laugh. Some of them were holding up their own phones, recording every second of this interchange.

  “I have to take Dad home.” This was worse than a nightmare. She moved to the door of her car. “My number hasn’t changed. Reach out when you’re ready to talk.”

  “I’m ready right now.”

  “I’ll go finish my drink,” her father said.

  “Don’t you dare,” Amelia hissed.

  Hunter intercepted Tobias and shot out his hand. “Hunter Waverly. I appreciate you coming today. This was important. Something I needed to hear.”

  “Tobias Lindor.” He shook Hunter’s hand. “Yes. You did. You two take as long as you need.”

  “We will, but not here.”

  “Pfft.” Damned right she wasn’t staying here. Not one second longer.

  But as she opened the back door, intending to strap Peyton into her seat, Hunter leaned into the front from the passenger side. He turned off the car and stole the keys, straightening to hand them to her father.

  “Stay as long as you like. They’ll start serving food soon.”

  “What are you doing?” She popped out again, still holding Peyton as she scowled across the roof. “Dad doesn’t drive.” Only on the streets he knew, because of his bad eye. Not at all if he’d been drinking.

  “I’ll work something out,” her father insisted, pocketing the keys and walking back to the tasting room.

  Men.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” She had to lean in to talk to Hunter across the back seat where he had begun to fiddle with Peyton’s seat. “Leave that alone.”

  “We can’t talk here.” He paused to remove his jacket, revealing perspiration stains on his shirt, perhaps not as impervious to all of this as he seemed.

  “We don’t have to talk now,” she said with exasperation, switching Peyton’s weight to her other arm. “This isn’t a national emergency. We can both take a beat and process, can’t we? I’ll have my people call your people.” After she found people.

  “I would love nothing else.” His tone was weary and patronizing. He yanked the seat out, slammed the door and came around to her side, forcing her to straighten and face him. “But look around.”

  The one man was still feeling around in the petunias, searching for his phone, but everyone else had fanned out to record them. They were keeping their distance, but it was still disgusting.

  “I don’t want strangers taking photos of my baby.” She cradled Peyton closer.

  “Neither do I. That’s why we’re leaving. Do you need that?” He pointed at the diaper bag on the seat.

  “Yes, but—” She didn’t want to be railroaded.

  She didn’t want to become an online meme, either.

  “Here’s Denis.” Hunter retrieved her bag and slammed the car door, then he opened her driver door, pressed the lock button and slammed that, too.

  An SUV stopped behind her car and a wiry, middle-aged man leaped out, leaving it running as he efficiently installed the car seat with a click and a smile.

  Conflicted, Amelia climbed into a deliciously cool and roomy back seat. She buckled Peyton in, tucked her blankie around her, then clicked her own belt, blowing a stray tendril of hair from her eyes.

  It will be okay, she assured herself, even though her stomach was churning with misgiving.

  Maybe she could have believed it if Hunter hadn’t looked so remote and menacing. Rather than take the passenger seat up front, he took the spot on the far side of Peyton. His tanned face was like carved and polished maple. Smooth, but hard.

  “Where to, sir?” Denis asked as he wound his way out through the parking lot toward the exit.

  “Goderich,” Amelia said while Hunter spoke over her.

  “The apartment.” Hunter frowned at her. “It’s in Toronto. Closer.”

  “It’s kidnapping,” she pointed out.

  “Only if I ask for a ransom.” He was texting as he spoke. “What kind of security do you have in Goderich?”

  A dead bolt and venetian blinds.

  “Why? Those people won’t bother me in my own home, will they?” She twisted to look out the back window. A car was following them.

  “In my experience, those sorts of people will climb on a trash can and photograph you on the toilet if they think they can earn a buck for it.”

  “Then why did you invite them to your wedding?”

  “I didn’t. This wasn’t the easiest place to secure. You got in.”

  Ouch. But... “Is this some of the ‘everything’ you can give Peyton?” she asked with facetious bite. “You’re right. I should have told you sooner.”

  “This will go more smoothly if we stick to what needs to happen rather than what has already happened. Yes, I’m here.” He gave his attention to whoever he had just called.

  He was talking to a group, Amelia realized as he began listing out assignments.

  “Zudora, I need a paternity test. Have a nurse meet us at the apartment. Kimi, get everything a two-month-old needs. Leave it in one of the guest rooms. Who has the number for the wedding planner? Let her know that Denis will come back for Amelia’s father and will arrange for his car to follow, but find him a hotel room if he prefers to stay the night. Carina, let me hear what you’ve got so far. No, don’t say that.”

  “Say what?” Amelia prompted. She would really love to know what the heck was going on. Had his wedding been called off or merely postponed?

  She didn’t ask, not sure she was ready for the answer.

  “No. Call it a brief relationship that ended before I me
t Eden. I want it to be clear I wasn’t involved with her at any time while I was dating Eden.”

  Amelia’s breath was punched out of her by that. She blocked out the rest and turned her face to the window.

  She had no reason to be surprised or offended, she reminded herself. He had warned her not to come to his room if she expected it to go beyond that night.

  “Tonight is enough,” she had said, believing it in the moment. She had believed a lot of silly things that evening—that he respected her as a person, rather than seeing her as an object of entertainment. That he was rich, but grounded. That they had a connection that went beyond physical.

  All of that delusion had been on her side. Worse, the infuriating awareness of him was still tingling and alive within her, making her feel his presence like a force that both pushed and pulled against her. Magnetism? Was that what it was?

  It was agonizing and juvenile, and it was what had made her agree when Cheryl had said with excitement, “Table Fourteen invited us for drinks after we cash out.”

  The management had frowned on servers fraternizing with customers, but they didn’t forbid it. Even so, Amelia usually kept things simple. She knew players when she saw them. She’d been involved with one already, and it hadn’t ended well. A pair of men in upscale golf clothes with gold watches and aviator sunglasses were not looking for love. Besides, while one of them had a sexy French accent and a slow, lazy smile, the other was contained and remote and intimidating. Amelia had learned to gravitate toward golden retriever types, not men with energy that was brooding and coiled and dangerous.

  “They probably have wives to get home to,” Amelia had said, even as reluctant interest had been unfurling inside her.

  “Don’t you recognize them? That’s Hunter Waverly. Wave-Com? And Remy Sylvain. Can-Carib airlines. I would do anything for a private flight to Turks and Caicos.” Cheryl had waggled her brows.

  Cheryl would do anything for a laugh and a pleasant roll in the hay. She had broken up with a long-term boyfriend and was determined to sow her oats before settling down again.