Valerie Parv - The Billionaire's Baby Chase

His public image was of a stop-at-nothing entrepreneur who had built a global communications business from nothing. The Aussie Bulldozer, Time magazine had called him. Now Zoe was standing in the bulldozer’s path, and he would go over her if she forced him to. But he would not be stopped, that much she knew with a numbing certainty.

She clutched at another straw. “You said your wife took your daughter to another country.” Perhaps this was some ghastly case of mistaken identity.

He nodded. “She did—Australia. My company was setting up a satellite communications network in the Middle East when we met. Ruth was handling security for the project. Neither of us planned on what happened, but it was a forbidding, lonely place for a foreigner. The political situation was delicate, and we couldn’t move outside our headquarters without an armed escort.” He gave a wry grimace. “In a situation like that, people turn to each other and form bonds more quickly than they might under normal conditions.”

Her throat felt gravelly. “You were married in the Middle East?”

“We hadn’t planned to until Ruth became pregnant.” He frowned at Zoe’s sharply indrawn breath. “Don’t look so scandalized. We took precautions, but Ruth suffered a bout of food poisoning and her contraception failed. Ruth wasn’t really the marrying kind, and I doubt if she would have said yes if not for her pregnancy.”

From her short acquaintance with his wife, Zoe suspected he was right. Ruth had given the impression that she enjoyed flaunting her power over men, but hated being pinned down for long. As a mother, she took little interest in the childish milestones Zoe had dutifully reported to her each day.

In many ways Ruth had reminded Zoe of a butterfly, moving restlessly from flower to flower, hating to be impeded in her travels. She hadn’t struck Zoe as a woman for whom marriage and motherhood were natural choices.

James watched the expressions moving over her face. “I see you know what she was like.”

“I only knew her for a short time when she moved into an apartment across the road,” Zoe explained, her voice deepened by the ache in her throat. “She called herself Ruth Sullivan and said she was working as a courier in the city. Sometimes she left Genie with me overnight, so I was accustomed to having her sleep here. But when Ruth didn’t return to collect her for two days, I went to her address to see if she was ill. There was no answer and her neighbors hadn’t seen her in days, so I contacted the police.”

“Who traced her movements and discovered she’d been killed in that sailing accident,” James supplied. His tone said he was still adjusting to the discovery. In the midst of her own desolation, Zoe felt an unexpected wave of compassion for him.

“According to the police, she was involved with a pretty reckless crowd who encouraged her to try all sorts of dangerous sports,” Zoe added.

His sigh of resignation hissed between them. “Knowing Ruth, she wouldn’t have needed much encouragement. She enjoyed living on the edge. It made her feel alive. Working in the Middle East suited her need for adventure. I should have known better than to expect her to settle into domesticity with me.”

“What happened between you?” Through her hurt, Zoe felt compelled to ask the question, to know everything about Genie’s brief life before she came to Zoe. Until now she’d only had Ruth’s account to go by.

A shadow crossed his chiseled features. “When we found out she was pregnant, I suggested returning to Australia so the baby could be born here.” He lapsed into a long, nerve-stretching silence before continuing. “For a while, things seemed to work out, but Ruth became restless. I had to return to the Middle East to complete our contract. Ruth wanted to come with me, but Genevieve was not yet two. I tried to cut my trip as short as I could. I was only supposed to be gone for a month.”

His deep voice cracked. The pain caused by his memories enfolded Zoe as if it was her own—which in a way, it was. But for these events triggered half a world away, she would not now be facing the worst moment of her life.

“She couldn’t wait a month?” she managed to ask, saying the unsayable for him. How could any woman, the mother of his child, not wait a lifetime for the man she loved, if that was what was required?

“In the end…circumstances…intervened. It was much longer than a month before I was able to return,” he rasped. “By the time I got back she was gone, taking my daughter with her.”

A distant part of her mind noticed that he made no attempt to explain what circumstances had kept him away. Was it the pressure of business? Or, heaven forbid, another woman? Neither were excusable when he had a wife and baby waiting for him at home.

Whatever had happened was none of her business except as it concerned Genie, she told herself. He was probably only telling her the story at all to help her understand how Genie came to be in Zoe’s care. The crazy part was she did understand. In his shoes she would have done everything in her power to find her child, just as James had. But the mother in her railed against it with every breath in her body. How in the name of all that was right and true could she face giving Genie up?

“I know this must be hard for you,” James conceded. Distantly she registered that he felt badly about what he was doing. Yet she also sensed that nothing she said or did, no amount of tears or pleading, would change his course any more than one rock can alter the eventual course of a mighty river.

“Hard?” she echoed, her eyes blurring as she lifted them to him. “This goes way beyond hard, all the way to impossible. I doubt if you have the slightest idea how hard this is, Mr. Langford.”

It registered that familiarity had gone, along with any sense of the attraction she had begun to feel toward him.

He gestured toward the documents lying between them on the coffee table. “Are you sure I don’t know how this feels? If you come back to my office, I can show you files stacked higher than that table with reports and false leads, rumors and red herrings, as well as hard intelligence gathered inch by painstaking inch since the day Genevieve was taken away from me.” His jaw hardened. “So don’t tell me I can’t understand how it feels.”

The difference was that he had had longer to adjust to the situation, if that helped any. Somehow she doubted it. And if he got his way, she would have to live without Genie a lot longer than James had. She forced herself to ask, “What do you intend to do now?”

He paced to the window, parting the curtain to survey the suburban vista beyond before swinging back to face her. Compassion softened the lines etched around his features, but his eyes shone with purpose. “I intend to get to know my child, be a father to her again. We’ve been kept apart quite long enough.”

Her mind refused to deal with any of this. Even acknowledging that she had heard him would lead to discussing ways and means. Suddenly she understood how bereaved people could prattle on about trivial matters, anything to avoid facing the reality of their loss.

She locked her hands around her knees, her thoughts stupidly sticking on the Strathfield mansion. Why had he wanted to see it if he had no real interest in the property? “This whole meeting was a sham, wasn’t it?” she said woodenly. “Have you enjoyed playing cat and mouse with me all afternoon, relishing the moment when you could spring your trap?”

Anger flashed in his vivid gaze. “It wasn’t a sham,” he denied. “My company does intend to purchase a property where we can accommodate visiting executives. But you’re right, it wasn’t why I made the appointment with you.” He glanced around. “I wanted to see for myself what you were like and how my child has been living.”