Nicola Marsh - Inherited - Baby

‘Do what? Protect my brother’s fiancée and my nephew from vile, malicious gossip? Do what any brother would do?’

‘You’re not my brother.’

The words popped out before she could think and he blinked in surprise—but not before she’d glimpsed a spark of an emotion she couldn’t identify. At a guess, it looked like relief.

Not that she could blame him—relieved not to be related to a gullible idiot. Joe had obviously felt the same way, prolonging their engagement, feeding her false promises till he’d finally spilled the truth the night they’d fought for the last time, the night he’d been too tanked to walk a straight line let alone drive.

‘No, I’m not your brother, but I’m here for both of you,’ he said, glancing at Chas with a tenderness that took her breath away. ‘Whatever you need, let me know. I want to help.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, wishing he’d stop looking at her like some sort of pathetic charity case.

If she’d learned one thing over the years it was to hold her head high. Pride was all she had left.

‘You sure you’re going to be all right?’

‘Positive,’ she said, injecting some force into her voice before she broke down completely and wept on Riley’s broad shoulders. ‘And I appreciate you taking care of all this.’

She waved a hand towards the dispersing crowd in the distance, relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with their probing stares or harsh censure any longer. Her life with Joe was over and she’d do her best to see that Chas didn’t bear the brunt of the stigma she’d had to face.

‘No problems. If you need anything…’ Riley trailed off, his steady gaze drawn to Chas once again as if he didn’t want to let her son out of his sight.

Great. Another Bourke who doubted her mothering skills. Joe had often thrown put-downs her way in his usual joking fashion. Sadly, she’d learned that Joe’s ‘jokes’ were a front for cruel barbs, insults meant to hurt her where she’d feel it most. She’d trusted him enough to tell him about her past—so what had he done? Honed in on her insecurities when their relationship faltered, sticking the knife in and twisting it just for the fun of it.

No, she wouldn’t miss Joe. As much as she’d loved him, had idolised him, he was her past. Chas was her future.

Looking down at her sleeping son blowing small air bubbles out of the corner of his mouth, she managed a weak smile, feeling some of the tension of the day ebb away.

‘We’ll be okay,’ she said, tracing Chas’s baby-soft cheek with her index finger, overwhelmed by how much she loved this little boy.

And as she gently lifted her slumbering son and placed him in his car seat, and Riley helped load the pram and nappy bag in the back of her four-wheel drive station wagon, she knew they would be okay.

She had no other option.

‘Your brother must’ve been a good man.’

Riley took a sip from his third espresso of the afternoon and stared at Matt Byrne, the lawyer who’d handled his business dealings for the last few years. ‘My brother may have been a lot of things but I don’t think good was one of them.’

Competitive? Yeah.

Obsessed with winning? Yeah.

Cocky, brash and charming. Definitely.

But good? Uh-uh.

Matt raised an eyebrow. ‘By the size of this turnout, I’d say quite a few people would disagree with you.’

Riley followed Matt’s gaze, sweeping the crowd which included several TV celebrities, politicians and a few models. Notably absent were members of the racing fraternity—though, considering Joe’s growing gambling debts and the number of times Riley had bailed him out, he wasn’t surprised.

‘Most of this crowd are here for the free food and alcohol,’ he said, annoyed at the bitter tone creeping into his voice.

Matt didn’t know about Joe’s carousing, his penchant for beautiful women, his love of the high life and Riley wanted to keep it that way. The fewer people who knew about Joe’s private affairs, the better. It made it less likely that any more gossip would taint Maya and Chas.

Maya…A fleeting image flashed across his mind of the petite blonde dressed in head to toe black, her face hidden by a huge hat, the way her luminous green eyes had stared up at him when that vile woman had implied she was a tart.

He’d been prepared to dislike Joe’s fiancée, half-believing the rumours he’d heard about her gold-digging tendencies, and therefore had been staggered by how much he’d wanted to haul her into his arms and comfort her, to block out the cruel whispers and tell her everything would be all right.

A strange reaction considering he hardly knew her. Joe had seen to that.

‘What’s going on, Riley? You never lose your cool.’

Riley wrenched his attention back to Matt. ‘You met Maya, right?’

‘Yeah. Gorgeous woman. She must be devastated that Joe’s gone. And that poor little kid—’

‘Chas will be fine. That’s why I flew you down here.’

‘I’m still surprised about that. Surely a hotshot like Joe would have his own lawyer to handle the will?’

‘I want you to do it,’ Riley bit out, knowing Joe hadn’t had a lawyer. The last guy who’d been foolish enough to take on that particular responsibility had washed his hands of Joe’s dealings quick smart. ‘That way, I know everything will be done right.’

‘Gee, thanks, mate. Though, by your tone, I’d swear you have as much confidence in my abilities as that woman over there has of making it to the door without falling flat on her face.’

Riley grimaced as a supermodel tottered on incredibly high heels towards the heavy oak doors, either drunk, high or both. Great company his brother had kept.

Making a lightning-quick decision, Riley beckoned Matt towards the huge glass windows overlooking Collins Street. ‘Look, I have a feeling Joe’s will is going to be messy. Or, more to the point, what he’s left behind will be messy.’

Matt’s expression didn’t change—a true professional, which was why Riley trusted him. ‘How so?’

Riley sighed and tugged at the tie knotted at his throat. He hated wearing the things and couldn’t wait for the day when stockbrokers took to T-shirts and jeans. As if.

‘Call it a hunch, but I don’t think Joe managed his money wisely. In fact, I’m not sure he has much left.’

This time Matt couldn’t hide his surprise. ‘You’re kidding? He was reportedly one of Melbourne’s richest guys. And you’re no pauper. The Bourke name is synonymous with wealth.’

‘Yeah, well, I think Joe has been living on his name for a while now.’

While fleecing him as often as possible. Stupidly, Riley had continued to bail out his flake of a brother, hoping he’d change, mature once he became a father. It hadn’t happened.

‘What about Maya and the child?’

‘As far as I know, they should be okay for now. Joe owned the apartment they live in and bought Maya a new car when she had Chas. I assume he paid the bills.’ Or more correctly, Riley had given the money he’d shelled out at increasingly frequent intervals over the last six months.

Damn, he should’ve intervened; he should’ve made a stand. But then, where would that have left Chas, the little guy who had no say in who his parents were?

‘But apart from those assets, you’re concerned he won’t have money left to provide for Maya and Chas?’

‘Exactly.’

Matt paused, an uncomfortable look on his face as if he was searching for the right way to phrase what came next.

‘You’re really worried about them, aren’t you?’

Riley nodded, banishing another image before it could take hold, that of Maya cradling a sleeping Chas in her arms as she put him in the car, a small possessive smile playing around her mouth, a mouth he had no right noticing.