Guarding Camille. Judy Christenberry

she patted him on the arm.

      “She made the right decision, though of course we miss her,” Megan assured Connor. Then she turned to Camille. “Did you see Chase when you took your baby upstairs?”

      Jake had told Camille about Connor and Janelle’s little boy, Chase. For reasons Camille didn’t know, Janelle had abandoned the baby on the clinic steps the previous fall. Then in January she’d shown up to claim her child, but he was still in Megan’s care.

      “Yes, I did,” Camille said with a smile. “He’s a handsome boy, and big for his age.”

      “Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Megan agreed, sounding like a doting great-aunt.

      Camille had been intimidated by Megan’s appearance when she’d first met her, but then she’d discovered the warm, loving woman beneath the expensive attire. No wonder all of Megan Maitland’s children adored her.

      “What did you name your little boy?” Megan asked.

      “James Jacob,” Camille said, not thinking about the speculation the name might cause. Jake’s hand squeezed her waist in warning.

      “After Jake?” his mother asked in surprise.

      “Um, well, Jake has helped me a great deal and—and his name went well with my father’s.”

      Connor gave a harsh laugh. “I heard that my cousin was quite a stud, but I didn’t know—”

      “Connor!” Megan snapped, an air of command in her voice for the first time.

      He sobered at once and offered an apology.

      Jake seemed distracted, however, his gaze fixed on something or someone over his mother’s shoulder. “I believe you have a late guest, Mom.”

      She turned to look, then said, “Of course. Mr. Smith. If you’ll excuse me, children, I’ll go greet him.”

      “Who’s that?” Connor asked, frowning.

      Camille could feel the tension in Jake and knew he had some kind of interest in the man who had just arrived. She wondered if he had any connection to her ex-husband, but instantly dismissed that idea. Jake wouldn’t have allowed him to be invited to his mother’s house had that been the case.

      “A man who’s checking out the hospital for his grandchild’s birth. Mom thought he might enjoy meeting the family.”

      Camille studied Jake’s face. His explanation was reasonable enough, she supposed, but something about his intensity alarmed her.

      “I thought it was just supposed to be family,” Connor grumbled. “Though I suppose since the Lords are here, there’s no reason—”

      “The Lords are part of our family, Connor,” Jake corrected. “I’d suggest you not make that mistake in front of Mom.”

      The man glowered at Jake, then tipped his glass to swallow the last of his drink. He signaled a waiter and exchanged his empty glass for another flute of champagne. “Aren’t you two drinking?” he asked, gesturing to the waiter’s almost full tray.

      Camille lifted her glass of club soda. “I have something, thank you.”

      Jake didn’t bother with excuses. He shook his head at the waiter and continued to keep his eye on the new guest.

      A couple of minutes later, Megan approached them, a very handsome dark-haired man at her side. “Mr. Smith, I’d like you to meet my nephew, Connor O’Hara, and—”

      Camille had been studying the new arrival as Megan made the introduction. When she gave Connor’s name, the man whitened, all blood draining from his face, and Camille wondered if he would faint.

      Jake grabbed his arm. “What the hell is going on?”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      JAKE SLIPPED a hand beneath Smith’s arm to support him, afraid he might pass out. Instead, Smith squared his shoulders and shrugged off Jake’s hold.

      “Are you all right?” Camille asked, leaning toward him.

      Jake recognized his instinctive urge to come between Camille and the stranger, but squelched it at once. There was no need to protect her. She was safe here.

      “My heavens,” Megan exclaimed, looking at Harrison Smith. “Are you ill?”

      “Yes! Yes, I just got over a bad bout with the flu,” he replied, a little too quickly, Jake decided. “I thought I was fully recovered but I guess I’ve had too long a day.”

      Connor shrugged. “You probably should go home. Put your feet up.”

      Jake smiled at his mother. “I’ll take Mr. Smith to the study and let him rest. He’ll probably be okay in a few minutes.” He didn’t want his opportunity to question the man to disappear. Especially now.

      “I’ll find him something to eat,” Camille added. She smiled sympathetically at Smith, and Jake felt the stirrings of jealousy. What was wrong with him? She was only trying to be helpful.

      “Thank you. I’d appreciate it,” Smith murmured, returning Camille’s smile.

      For a prospective grandfather, Smith’s smile was a little too appreciative of Camille’s concern, Jake thought. Placing his hand on Smith’s shoulder, he directed him away from her. As he did so, he caught Michael Lord’s gaze and nodded toward Camille.

      “I hope you’re able to stay, Mr. Smith,” Megan said, her social graces intact, as always. “Maybe if you rest until dinner, you’ll feel better.”

      “Thank you,” he murmured.

      Camille flagged down a waiter and conferred with him as Jake led Smith toward the study. She’d be safe, he assured himself as he caught sight of Michael heading toward her. Nothing could happen to her while he questioned the guest.

      Once they reached the study, Smith stepped away from Jake.

      “Thank you for your support. I’m feeling much better now. If you want to return to the party, I’ll stay here for a few minutes.”

      Jake stuck his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. “I’ve been to too many of these parties. I’d just as soon have a break, too.”

      “I wouldn’t want to upset your mother by keeping her youngest away from the party,” Smith said with a slight smile.

      Jake studied him. “How did you know I was the youngest?”

      Smith didn’t flinch or look surprised by his question. “I think it’s common knowledge. You and your sister Anna are the only ones not involved in the hospital. I suppose that fact made you stand out.” He chose one of the large leather chairs tucked in a corner of the shadowy room, away from the glow of the lamp.

      Jake paced around the room. “So, I understand your daughter is expecting.”

      “Yes.”

      “Where is she?”

      “At home. In Montana.” He kept his gaze fixed on the cuff of his shirt, which he straightened with his opposite hand.

      “And her husband?”

      One eyebrow slid up, reminding Jake of Megan when one of her children had challenged her. He almost grinned, then regained control of himself.

      “Are you implying I’m interfering with my daughter’s life?”

      Jake didn’t back down. “I just know if my wife was having a child, I’d be the one making the decisions about the birth, not my father-in-law.” Memories of Jamie’s birth flooded him. Jamie wasn’t his child, but Jake had been there for Camille.

      “You’ve never—” Smith began, when the door, which Jake had closed, swung open.

      Camille entered with a tray filled with hors d’oeuvres and glasses