The Rival's Heir. Joss Wood

      Oh, no! She’d already done more than enough. “This is a child, Huntley! Your child, apparently. You don’t just get to throw your hands up in the air and step back. She’s a baby, not a package you can refuse.”

      Judah rubbed the back of his neck. “Damned Carla. What the hell is she playing at?”

      “So, I take it Jac is a bit of a surprise? That you didn’t know about her?”

      “Of course I didn’t know about her! She’s not—” Judah snapped his mouth shut and gripped the bridge of his nose in frustration.

      That he’d been about to say that the baby wasn’t his was easy to work out. But Darby wasn’t that much of an idiot. Judah might not want Jac to be his, but the little girl was a carbon copy of him, down to her nose and stubborn chin.

      Judah glanced down at Jac and lifted his big shoulders. “I can’t take her.”

      Oh, God, she was so done with this. Darby lifted her free hand, gripped Judah’s lapel and stood up on her toes, annoyed to realize that she still needed more height to look him in the eye. “Listen to me, you spoiled, inconsiderate ass! This baby was brought to you by those useless fools and if I track them down, I will carve them up for leaving her with a stranger and then disappearing. I could’ve been a baby trafficker, a nut case, a psycho!”

      Amusement jumped into Judah’s eyes. “Are you?”

      God, when he half smiled, that dimple deepened and her stomach quivered. It was like he just dialed his sexy factor up to lethal and—

      Why was she thinking about that? She was supposed to be tearing him a new one! Sexy or not, he was going to get a very big piece of her mind. “You’re an idiot if you can’t see how much Jac looks like you! And even though I am the only one who seems to give a damn about this child, she is not my responsibility.”

      “You agreed to change her, you let them go. You could’ve handed her back.”

      Could he really be that unfeeling, that cold? This man who created art in buildings with such verve, such emotion in every line. How could he be so devoid of warmth?

      “You heartless bastard! Do you know how lucky you are to have a child? Do you know how many people would love to be you?” Darby winced when her voice rose. Then she decided that she didn’t care. Somebody needed to stand up for Jac, to put her first, and it seemed Darby had been nominated. “She’s the innocent party and if you can’t see that, then you are a complete and utter waste of space.”

      Darby knew she was panting, knew she was on the edge of tears and knew she had to leave before she lost it. She also had to leave before she walked away with the baby nobody but her seemed to want.

      Pulling Judah’s arm from his side, she bundled Jac into his embrace, making sure he had a firm grip before letting the little girl go. Refusing to look at him, Darby dropped a quick kiss on Jac’s smooth forehead.

      Darby smacked Jac’s empty bottle into Judah’s other hand and sent him a hard, tight smile. “My friend DJ says that having kids should be heavily regulated and subject to licensing. I’ve never agreed more with that statement than right now.” She stared up into his beautiful face, confusion replacing anger. “I don’t understand how someone so talented, who can put so much emotion into a building, can be so hard. And so cold.”

      Judah dipped his head so she could feel his breath on her ear, so she inhaled his unique scent of lemons and detergent and something earthy and sexy that made her want to bury her face in his neck and breathe him in. For a moment—a small infinitesimal moment—she imagined that she and Judah were a couple, that he was standing guard over his family, but the words that left his mouth shattered that image.

      “This baby isn’t mine.”

      Of course he’d say that.

      “No, you just don’t want her to be yours,” Darby muttered. “She should be good for about another half hour or so. After that, I hope she gives you hell. Bye now.”

      Judah’s eyes hit hers and Darby felt their punch. All that gorgeous blue, that face and that body, wasted on a self-absorbed cretin.

       Good luck, Jacquetta, you’re going to need it, honey.

       Three

      Way to make friends and influence people. Judah watched the Duchess step toward the elevator, cursing when the doors closed on a froth of fabric. She was gone, and he should be glad.

      Should being the operative word.

      She’d just reamed him but instead of getting pissed he’d just been turned on... But, in his defense, she was smokin’.

      She was also gone.

      Judah shook his head. Well, that was that. Looking down at the little girl he held, he watched as her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth softened. She did look like him, Judah admitted. Then again, he and Jake both took after their dad and no one ever suspected that they were half siblings and not full blood brothers.

      Judah thought he’d been the only casualty of Jake and Carla’s illicit weekend spent together in his apartment but no, they always went a step further than necessary. Why light a Roman candle when you could detonate a bomb?

      Judah felt the back of his throat burn. A year and a half had passed; how could the double betrayal still hurt so damn much? He ran his knuckle over Jac’s flower-soft cheek. His pain, the fiery anger, he realized, wasn’t only for him but also for Jacquetta. This little human, this doll-faced child, deserved better than two dysfunctional cretins as parents.

      Judah used his free hand to pull his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and scroll through his contact list. He hadn’t dialed this number in so long, he hoped it was still operational.

      The phone buzzed, beeped and started to ring.

       Keep your cool, keep your cool...

      “Judah, baby.”

      Her growly, sexy voice raised nothing more than red-hot anger. “What the hell, Carla? A baby? Are you insane?”

      “I know it’s a bit of a surprise, but I need you to take her for a while so I can finish this project.”

      “Let me think about that...” Judah replied, trying his utmost to keep his voice low. “No. A thousand times no! This isn’t happening.”

      “It is.” Carla’s voice turned hard. “Either you or your brother have to take her until I decide I want her back.”

      “Then call Jake, for God’s sake! He’s her father, not me! And don’t you think one of you should’ve let me know I have a niece?”

      “You made it very clear to both of us that you’d washed your hands of us.”

      “You talk as if I didn’t find you naked in my bed, in a position I still can’t get out of my head. Then you spilled the ugly details of our breakup to distract the press from finding out you were cheating on me with my much younger brother while I dealt with the mess Jake created.”

      Why had he even mentioned the past? Carla didn’t care then, and she didn’t care now.

      “Call Rossi back or get Jake to come get his daughter,” he said. “She. Is. Not. My. Problem.”

      “Do you think it would be wise of me to leave Jac with Jake? He’s an addict with a felony record, thanks to you. He’s not daddy material.”

      “Carla, you can’t just dump a baby on me like she’s a UPS parcel!” Okay, he’d borrowed that from the Duchess, but it applied. God, what had he seen in Carla? Oh, yeah, the sex had been phenomenal but like Turkish delight, she was best taken in small doses. “Come and get her, Carla.”

      “No,”