A Clandestine Corporate Affair. Michelle Celmer

me you didn’t even suspect it was yours?”

      Of course he had. He kept waiting for a call from Ana. He trusted that if the child was his she would have the decency to tell him. When he didn’t hear from her he just assumed the baby was another man’s, which he’d taken to mean that she’d wasted no time moving on. Which he couldn’t deny stung like hell.

      Turned out there really hadn’t been anyone else—at least, not that he knew of. That wasn’t much of a consolation at this point.

      “It was wrong of her to keep it from me,” he told Beth.

      “Yes, it was. But—and she would kill me if she knew I was telling you this—you broke her heart, Nathan. She was devastated when you ended the relationship. So, please, cut her a little slack.”

      That was no excuse to keep his child from him. “I have to go. Give the birthday girl a kiss for me.”

      Beth’s brow cinched with worry. “Go easy on her, Nathan. You have no idea what she’s been through the past year and a half. The pregnancy, the birth … she did everything on her own.”

      “That was her choice. At least she had one.” Feeling angry and betrayed by people he trusted, Nathan turned and headed toward the parking lot. Although, honestly, what had he expected? He and Leo had drifted since their college days, and Beth was Ana’s cousin. Had he really expected her to break the confidence of a family bond for a casual acquaintance? If that were the case, should Nathan have felt compelled in college to tell Beth how many times he had come back to the frat house to find her husband Leo, then her steady boyfriend, in his room with another girl?

      Besides, he thought, as he slipped behind the wheel of his Porsche, maybe he had suspected the baby was his and deep down didn’t want to know the truth. Maybe that’s why he never called her, never confirmed for his own peace of mind. Maybe the truth scared the hell out of him. What would he do if it was his kid? What would he tell Adam Blair, his boss and CEO of Western Oil? He was having a child who just happened to be the grandson of the owner of the company’s leading competitor. That would have been a disaster then, but now, since the explosion at the refinery, and the suspicion that Birch Energy might somehow be involved, it was a whole new ball game. Not only could he kiss goodbye any chance at the soon-to-be-open CEO position, he would probably lose the job he already had.

      Besides, what the hell did he know about being a father, other than the fact that he didn’t want to be anything like his own father? But the margin for error was still astronomical.

      He’d been to Ana’s condo in Raven Hill so many times he drove there on autopilot. When he pulled into the driveway, a white luxury SUV was already parked there. She must have traded in her sports car for something more practical. Because that was what responsible parents did. And despite everything, he didn’t doubt for a second that Ana would be a good mother. She used to talk about losing her own mother and how her father ignored her. She said that when she had children they would be the center of her universe.

      Nathan and his brother Jordan had the opposite problem. Their father had been on their backs, cramming his principles down their throats and bullying them into doing things his way since they were old enough to have free will. Which Nathan hadn’t hesitated to exercise in full force, butting heads with the old man on a daily basis. Giving back as good as his father gave, until he’d pushed so far in the opposite direction, was so crippled by rage and indignation, he had lost a part of himself in the process.

      He parked beside the SUV, let go of the steering wheel and flexed his fingers. He’d been gripping it so hard his arms ached. He needed to relax. Yes, he was pissed, but going in there half-cocked was only going to make a bad situation worse.

      He took a deep, calming breath, got out, and walked to the porch. Ana was standing in the open doorway waiting for him, as she had been countless times before. They couldn’t be seen in public together, so they’d spent most of their time together here. Only this time as she let him in and closed the door, she didn’t slide her arms around his neck and pull him to her for a long, slow kiss. The kind that made the stress of the day roll off his shoulders, until nothing mattered but being with her. He wondered what she would do if he drew her against him and pressed his lips to hers.

      She would probably deck him, and he would deserve it. But it was almost worth the risk. Despite the time that had passed, he wanted her as much now as the first day he met her. As much as the day he walked out the door. Cutting all ties, ending things before they both got in too deep, had been the kindest thing he could do for her. For either of them. And he’d be smart to remember that.

      Ana had shed the silk jacket and boots, and in form-fitting jeans, a peasant blouse and bare feet, she looked more like a college student than someone’s mother. As always, she was a total contrast to the conservative chinos and button-up shirt that was his standard uniform. His disguise, to hide the real man lurking underneath the spit and polish. He’d never admitted to anyone, not even Ana, how damned hard it could be to keep him contained.

      He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. “Where’s the baby?”

      “He’s in bed.”

      “I want to see him.” He started for the hall that led to the bedrooms, but she stepped in his way.

      “Maybe later.”

      Anger sparked, then ignited, hot and intense, and had his blood pumping through his veins. “Are you saying you refuse to let me see my own son?”

      “He’s asleep. Besides, I think it’s best if we talk first.”

      He had half a mind to demand to see him, to push his way past her. Hadn’t she kept him from the kid long enough? But she was standing there, arms crossed, wearing a mama-bear look that said it would be in his best interest not to screw with her or her child. When it came to their son, she clearly didn’t mess around.

      He clamped a vice down on his anger and said, “Okay, let’s talk.”

      She gestured across the spacious living room to the couch. “Have a seat.”

      Her home had always had a relaxed feel, and despite the service that cleaned weekly there had always been clutter. But now, with toys strewn everywhere, it was like walking through a minefield to get to the couch. As he sat he had a vivid memory of the two of them sitting there together naked, her straddling him, head thrown back, eyes closed, riding him until they were both blind with ecstasy. The memory had his blood pumping through his veins again.

      “Something to drink?” she asked.

      How about a cold shower instead? “No thanks.”

      She sat cross-legged in the overstuffed chair across from him.

      Since he saw no reason not to get right to the point, he asked, “So you thought it was okay to have my child and not tell me?”

      “When you heard that I was pregnant, you could have asked,” she said.

      “I shouldn’t have had to.”

      She shrugged, as if she saw nothing wrong with her actions. “Like I said, I didn’t think you would care. In fact, I thought you would probably be happier not knowing. You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want a family. If I had told you, what would you have done? Would you have risked your career to claim him?”

      He honestly didn’t know, which he couldn’t argue legitimized her point. But this wasn’t just about how it would affect his career. There were other factors to consider, things she didn’t know about him. Still, he would have liked the opportunity to make that decision himself. “Either way it was my choice to make, not yours.”

      “If you didn’t have time for me, how could you have time for a child?”

      It wasn’t just about not having time. She might not have understood it, she probably never would, but he did her a favor when he ended their affair. She made him drop his guard, lose control, and with a man like him that could only spell trouble. He just wasn’t relationship material. Not the kind of