Claiming His Secret Heir

“Mine, too.” He limited himself to putting a hand on her waist, gently guiding her toward the daybed swing where he’d piled blankets in deference to the cold night air. “I found out I had a son today.”

Her guilty wince made it clear she was still feeling wary around him.

The patio heaters were humming, along with the fire. Decorative stonework along the low walls of the exterior was punctuated with built-in propane torches. The effect was medieval, making the home look all the more like an old French château.

“I’m sorry that my father’s lies cost us the chance to be together for Lucas’s birth.” She stopped in front of the daybed and held the chain to steady it while she sat down.

The glow of firelight played along her skin, brightening her cheeks.

“Yes. They did.” Damon took his time unfurling the blankets and tucking them around her, not wanting to get sucked into a conversation about Stephan Degraff. Damon needed this time to mend his relationship with her. Regardless of what her motives had been in hiding Lucas from him, or deceiving him about her condition, Damon needed to win her over. Earn back her trust so they could move forward in parenting their son. Together.

He would not raise his own child in the type of unstable environment he’d known growing up.

“I don’t how Dad could have done that to me. Was he trying to teach me a lesson for marrying someone he didn’t approve of?” She slipped off her boots and tucked her feet under her on the swing, sitting cross-legged. She laid her phone on the cushion beside her, leaving the video feed from the nursery monitor on. “Or did he hope I’d just forget about the marriage forever if he pretended it didn’t exist? Did he really expect you would never find out I was still alive? God, what if one of us had wanted to get married again. Would he have just stood aside and allow a bigamous union      ?”

“Tough to know what he was thinking.” Damon took the spot beside her then leaned forward to retrieve the insulated tea carafe. He poured two mugs of the stuff even though he wasn’t much of a tea drinker. Anything to get her to stay here with him for a little while.

And since bashing her father wasn’t going to get him anywhere with her, he would remain diplomatic. For now. Sooner or later, she would have to discover his plans to ruin Stephan Degraff. By then, Damon intended to have their marriage on far more stable ground.

She wrapped her hands around the gray stoneware mug and sipped the steaming hot drink. He took the opportunity to change the subject. Setting down his cup, he reached into the pocket of the sports jacket he’d worn for his meetings with the new security team members and took out her wedding ring set. He held the rings up to the firelight so she could see.

“One of the pieces of evidence the police pointed to in support of your father’s claim that you walked out on me was the fact that you left this behind.” He’d had the princess-cut diamond engagement ring and the matching platinum-and-diamond wedding band custom-made for her.

He studied her expression carefully, trying to assess what he saw there. Nostalgia? Maybe. But there was wariness, too. Had she taken it off when she got home that day, planning to leave him?

“I wondered where they went.” Caroline set down her tea on the stone rim of the copper fire bowl, then reached to touch the glittering band, tracing the outline with one finger. “I thought they were stolen from me while I was drugged.”

Taking her other hand, he dropped the rings into her palm and the diamonds sent tiny refractions glinting in the dark.

She stared down at the rings, making no move to put them on her finger.

“Do you think you were wearing them that day?”

She peered up at him, surprised. “I would have worn them on the plane coming home from Heathrow. I’m sure I had them on when I was taken from the house.”

“The rings were on the top of the bureau in my closet. As if you left them there deliberately for me to find.”

“I suppose I could be wrong.” She shook her head slowly. “I was given a lot of drugs during those first two weeks. More when they moved me a month after that. But I’m not sure I’ll ever recall exactly how that day played out when they took me.”

He ground his teeth in frustration, knowing he needed to get past it fast if he wanted to fix things with Caroline. He wanted the ring on her finger, needed her commitment to this marriage to provide a healthy and happy childhood for Lucas.

“You may never recover all your memories,” he reminded himself as much as her. “But I hope you’ll consider working with a new therapist in New York. Recalling those lost memories isn’t just about the two of us. It’s important for Lucas.”