The Baby Inheritance. Maureen Child

with full-body sprays.

      From the terrace, there was a spectacular view of the ocean in the distance, with the meticulously cared-for golf course and a sea of red-tiled roofs in the surrounding neighborhood closer up. The hotel itself looked like a castle plunked down in the middle of a beach city and felt light-years away from her own home, a cabin in the mountains.

      Though it was much smaller than this hotel suite, her cabin afforded beautiful views, too, of a lake and the mountains and a meadow that in spring was dotted with wildflowers and the deer that came to graze through it. She was out of her element here and that made her feel slightly off balance. Which, Lilah told herself, was not a good thing when dealing with a man like Reed Hudson.

      “Where’s the baby?” he asked, his gaze shifting around the room before settling on her again.

      “Rosie—” she emphasized the baby girl’s name “—is asleep in the crib the hotel provided.” Honestly, how was he going to be a parent to the little girl if he couldn’t even seem to say her name?

      “Good.” He slipped out of his jacket, tossed it across the back of a chair and walked toward the wet bar near the gas fireplace. As he reached for a bottle of scotch, he loosened the precise knot of his tie and opened the collar of his shirt. Why that minor action should strike Lilah as completely sexy, she couldn’t have said.

      “I called ahead,” Reed was saying. “Told Andre you were coming and to see that you had everything you needed.”

      “Andre.” Lilah thought back to the moment she’d entered the hotel to be greeted by an actual butler. If it hadn’t been for the man’s friendly smile and eagerness to help, she might have been completely intimidated by the snooty accent and his quiet efficiency. “He was wonderful. Couldn’t do enough to help us and Rosie loved him. But I can’t believe this suite comes with a butler.”

      One corner of his mouth quirked as he poured himself a scotch. “Andre’s more than a butler. Sometimes I think he’s a miracle worker.”

      “I’m convinced,” she admitted. “He arranged for the crib and had a wide selection of baby food stocked in your pantry. He even provided a bright blue teddy bear that Rosie already loves.”

      Reed smiled and even from across the room Lilah felt the punch of it. If anything, her sense of balance dissolved just a bit more.

      “You want a drink?”

      She thought about refusing, simply because she wasn’t ready to relax around him yet. But after the day she’d had... “Wine, if you have it. White.”

      He nodded, got the wine from the refrigerator and poured her a glass. Carrying both drinks to the sofa, he sat down and handed the wine to her when she joined him, taking a seat on the opposite corner.

      Lilah took a sip, let the wine settle her a bit. Being this close to Reed Hudson was a little unnerving. The anger she’d been living with for the past few weeks still simmered deep inside her, but looking at him now, she had to admit it wasn’t only anger she was feeling. She had another slow sip of wine and reminded herself just why she was there.

      “Why are you so willing to raise Rosie?” she asked, her voice shattering the silence.

      He studied the golden scotch in the heavy glass tumbler for a long moment before taking a swallow. “Because Spring asked me to.”

      “Just like that.”

      He looked at her, his green eyes as clear and sharp as emeralds under a spotlight. “Just like that. The baby—Rosie—” he corrected before she could “—is a Hudson. She’s family and I look out for my family.”

      “Enough to change your whole life?”

      A wry smile curved his mouth briefly. “Life’s always changing,” he mused. “With a family like mine, nothing ever stays the same.”

      “Okay, but...” Waving one hand to encompass the elegant surroundings, Lilah said, “You’re not exactly living in a baby-friendly environment.”

      “I know.” His gaze slipped around the open room, then he nodded at her. “That’s one of the reasons you’re here. You’ve got more experience with babies than I do. So you’ll know how to baby-proof this place temporarily.”

      “Temporarily?” she asked.

      “Obviously, I’ll need a house,” he said, taking another drink of his scotch. “Until now, the hotel’s worked well for me. Butler service, daily maids and twenty-four-hour room service.”

      “It does sound good,” she admitted, but didn’t think she’d be able to live in such a cutoff, sterile environment for long.

      “But a baby changes things,” he added, with a slight frown into his glass.

      “Yeah, they really do.”

      Abruptly, he pushed to his feet and reached out for her hand.

      “What?” she asked.

      One eyebrow winged up. “Don’t be so suspicious. Just come with me for a minute.”

      She placed her hand in his and completely ignored the buzz of something electric that zapped through her. If he felt it, too, he was much better at not showing it than she was. Not a flicker of response shone in his eyes as he pulled her to her feet.

      He tugged her behind him as he walked around the sofa, across the room and out onto the terrace, stepping into the encroaching shadows. Then he let her go and walked up to the stone railing, looking out over the view as lights began to wink into existence in the homes below, and a handful of stars began to glitter in the sky.

      Lilah followed his gaze briefly, then half turned to watch him instead. His sharp green eyes were narrowed against the cold wind that ruffled his thick, wavy black hair. Somehow he seemed more...approachable. Which should probably worry her.

      “I can’t stay here,” he said, his voice soft enough that she leaned in closer so she wouldn’t miss a word. “Rosie will need a yard. And a terrace that doesn’t include a couple-hundred-foot drop to the street.”

      Lilah shivered and looked over the edge of the railing. She’d had the same hideous thought herself. A tiny Rosie crawling out to the terrace and somehow climbing up on furniture and pitching right over. Deliberately, she pushed that mental image away and told herself it was good that Reed had come to the decision to move on his own—without her having to mention it.

      “So just like that, you’ll buy a house.”

      “Just like that,” he assured her, turning to lean one hip against the stone balustrade. “I’ll find something this weekend.”

      She laughed. How could she not? Lilah’s friends worked and saved for months, sometimes years to sock away enough money to maybe look for a house. Reed Hudson would simply pull out his magic checkbook. “Is everything so easy then?”

      “Not easy,” he assured her, his green eyes meeting and holding hers. “But if there’s one thing I know—it’s that if you want something, you go get it.”

       Three

      Oddly enough, Lilah could understand that statement. Okay, the spur-of-the-moment buying of a house was way out of her league, but the attitude was something she believed in. Going after what you wanted and not giving up until you had it.

      Isn’t that how she’d run her own life?

      How strange that she found herself agreeing with a man she’d expected to loathe on general principle. But as much as she was still furious on her friend’s behalf, she had to admit that Spring had left her daughter to Reed’s care. That said something, too, didn’t it?

      Spring had loved her daughter more than anything. So Lilah had to assume that there was more to Reed Hudson than she’d seen so far. Rose would not