The Billionaire's Borrowed Baby. Janice Maynard

      Luc understood his brother’s caution. They had both been burned by love at a tender age, but thankfully had wised up pretty fast. What Leo didn’t know, though, was that Luc had a plan. Revenge was a strong word for what he had in mind. He didn’t hate Hattie Parker. Quite the contrary. All he wanted was for her to understand that while he might still find her sexually attractive, he was completely immune to any emotional connection. No hearts and flowers. No protestations of undying devotion.

      He was no longer a kid yearning for a pretty girl. This time he had the power. He would be calling all the shots. Hattie needed him, and her vulnerability meant that Luc would have her in his house … in his bed … under his control. Perhaps revenge was too strong a word. But when all was said and done, Hattie Parker would be out of his system … for good.

      Hattie was ready to scream. Moving anytime was a huge chore, but add a baby to the mix, and the process was darned near impossible. She’d finally gotten Deedee down for a nap and was wrapping breakables in the kitchen when her cell phone rang. She jerked it up and snarled, “What?”

      The long silence at the other end was embarrassing.

      “Sorry,” she said, her throat tight with tears of frustration.

      Luc’s distinctive tones were laced with humor. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you lose your temper. I kind of like it.”

      “Don’t be silly,” she said, shoving a lock of damp hair from her forehead. “What do you want?”

      “Nothing in particular. I was checking in to see if you needed anything.”

      “A trio of muscular guys would be nice.”

      Another silence. “Kinky,” he said, his voice amused but perhaps a tad hoarse.

      Her face flamed, though he couldn’t see her. “To help with moving,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t know what else to do with them. This mothering thing is hard work.”

      “Why, Hattie Parker. Are you hinting for help?”

      “Maybe.” Deedee was a good baby, but being a single parent was difficult. Hattie no longer felt as panicked as she had in the beginning. Much of the daily routine of dealing with an infant seemed easier now. But Deedee had been restless the three nights since Hattie had dined with Luc. Perhaps the baby was picking up on Hattie’s unsettled emotions. And to make matters worse, Eddie had begun sending a harassing string of vague emails and texts. Clearly to keep Hattie on edge. And it was working.

      Luc sighed audibly. “I would have hired a moving crew already, but you’re always so damned independent, I thought you would pitch a fit and insist on doing it yourself.”

      “I’ve grown up, Luc. Some battles simply aren’t worth fighting. I know when I’m in over my head.”

      “I’m sorry. I made a stupid assumption. It won’t happen again.”

      The conversation lagged once more. She looked at the chaos in her kitchen and sighed. “Do you know yet when we’re going to sit down and go over the finer points of our marriage agreement?”

      “I thought perhaps tomorrow evening. When does Deedee go down for the night?”

      “Usually by eight … if I’m lucky.”

      “What if I come over to your place then, so she won’t have to be displaced. I’ll bring food.”

      “That would be great.”

      “Have you heard any more from your brother-in-law?”

      “Nothing specific.” No need at the moment to involve Luc in Eddie’s bluster. “He likes to throw his weight around. Right now, he’s got the perfect setup. I’m babysitting for him, but when he’s ready, he’ll grab Deedee.”

      “I hope you don’t mean that literally.”

      “He’s not that stupid. At least, I don’t think he is.”

      “Try not to worry, Hattie. Everything is going to fall into place.”

      For once, it seemed as if Luc was right. Deedee went to sleep the following evening without a whimper. Hattie found an unworn blouse in the back of her closet with the tags still attached. She’d snagged it from a clearance rack at Bloomingdale’s last January, and the thin, silky fabric, a pale peach floral, was the perfect weight for a spring evening.

      Paired with soft, well-worn jeans, the top made her look nice but casual … not like she was trying too hard to impress. Unfortunately, Luc showed up ten minutes early, and she was forced to open the door in her bare feet.

      His eyes flashed with masculine appreciation when he saw her. “You don’t look frazzled to me, Hattie.”

      She stepped back to let him in. “Thanks. Today was much calmer, maybe because the moving company you hired promised to be here first thing in the morning. And I was able to actually take a shower, because the baby took a two-hour morning nap.”

      As she closed the door, he surveyed her apartment. “No offense, but I don’t see any point in storing most of this stuff. Let the movers take the bulk of it to charity, and bring only the things that are personal or sentimental with you.”

      She bit her lip. It had occurred to her that this subject would have to be broached, but she hadn’t anticipated it would come so soon. “The thing is …”

      “What are you trying to say?” He tossed the duffel bag he’d been carrying in a chair and deposited two cloth grocery bags in the kitchen. Then he turned to face her. “Is there a problem?”

      She shifted from one foot to the other. Luc was wearing a suit and tie, and she felt like Daisy Duke facing off with Daddy Warbucks. “This union won’t last forever. After all the money you’re spending to help Deedee and me, you shouldn’t have to finance the next phase of my life, as well. I thought it might be prudent to have something to fall back on in the future.”

      He nudged a corner of her navy plaid futon/chair with the toe of his highly polished wing tip, giving the sad, misshapen piece a dismissive glance. “When that happens, I won’t cast off you and the child to live with cheap, secondhand furniture. I have a reputation to uphold in this town. Image is everything. You’re going to have to face the truth, Hattie. You’re marrying a rich man—whether you like it or not.”

      The mockery in his words and on his face was not veiled this time. He was lashing out at her for what she’d done in the past. Fair enough. Back then she had made a big deal about their stations in life. Luc’s money gave him power, and Hattie had been taught at her mother’s knee never to let a man have control.

      The man Hattie called “daddy” was really her stepfather. As a nineteen-year-old, her mother had been that most naive of clichés … the secretary who had an affair with her boss. When Hattie’s mom told her lover she was pregnant, he tossed her aside and never looked back.

      Hattie lifted her chin. “It was never about the money,” she insisted. “Or not only the money. Look at what your life has become, Luc. You’re the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I’m a public school teacher. I clip coupons and drive a ten-year-old car. Even before I began helping with my mother’s finances, I lived a very simple lifestyle.”

      He curled a lip. “Is this where I cue the violins?”

      “Oh, forget it,” she huffed. “This is an old argument. What’s the point?”

      He shrugged. “What’s the point indeed?” He picked up the duffel bag. “Dinner will keep a few minutes. Do you mind if I change clothes? I came straight from the office.”

      “The baby is asleep in my room, but the bathroom’s all yours. I’ll set out the food.”

      She had rummaged in the bags only long enough to see that Luc’s largesse was nothing as common as pizza, when a loud knock sounded at the door. She glanced through the peephole and drew in a breath.