The Black Sheep's Secret Child

“Turn things around?” Trent had heard rumblings that West Coast Records was having financial problems. No surprise there—Siggy Caldwell’s approach to the music industry was uninspired and his eldest son had been a chip off the old block. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not exactly sure, because I’ve been getting the runaround from Gerry, but I think they’re behind on paying royalties to their artists.”

“When did this start?”

“I don’t know. Shortly after we were married, Rafe confided to me that the company was struggling financially before your father retired.” That had occurred three years earlier. “And after the cancer started eating away at Rafe, he wasn’t making the best decisions. I’m sure things got much worse then.”

Trent ignored the compulsion that demanded he step in and fix everything. “While this is all fascinating, what does any of it have to do with me?”

“The company needs you.” Her big blue eyes went soft and concerned in the way that always kicked him hard in the solar plexus.

Trent’s first impulse was to laugh. He never got the chance. Questions crowded in. He didn’t give a damn about the company. But did she need him? Trent crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her through half-closed eyes. She was beautiful. Poised. But not happy. He should’ve felt triumphant. Instead there was a dull ache in his gut.

“You know, better than most, that isn’t going to sway me. Try again.”

She gazed at the blank walls that made up his office. If she was looking for some clue about how to appeal to him, she wouldn’t find it there. He was a man who didn’t give a damn about anything. Or that’s the face he showed the world. It made it much harder for someone to hurt him if he showed no vulnerability.

“Prove to your father you’re a better businessman than he is.”

He should be gloating. Trent—not his father or brother—would be the one to save the struggling West Coast Records, but his only emotion was bitterness.

“He would never believe that.” The great Siggy Caldwell never owned up to his mistakes. He sure as hell wouldn’t admit that his pitiful excuse for a second son was a better anything. “If that’s the best you have, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

She let the silence fill the space between them for a beat before speaking. “I need your help.”

He resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms and pledge his support. She was staring at him in desperate hope, as if he was her knight in shining armor. That was the farthest thing from reality. Sure, maybe he’d helped her out a time or two in the past, but she wasn’t his re

sponsibility anymore. The time for rescuing her had ended sixteen months earlier when she’d promised to love, honor and cherish his brother.

“And just like that, you expect me to drop everything and rush to your aid?” It cost him, but he gave his words a sardonic twist and hardened his heart. “It’s not going to happen.”

Two

Despite all the times he’d rescued her in the past, Savannah knew she shouldn’t have counted on Trent helping her. She’d committed the ultimate sin. She’d married his brother.

And now she was stuck in an untenable position. Her one-year-old son had inherited stock she couldn’t sell to a third party without her father-in-law’s permission. This meant as an asset it held no value for her. And because of the way the record label was hemorrhaging money, the stock would be worthless in no time.

Begging to be rescued was too humiliating and probably wouldn’t work anyway. Negotiating was a much more palatable option. Once again, she channeled Courtney Day. Relaxing her shoulders, she spoke in her alter ego’s confident tone.

“What can I say or do to change your mind?”

“I don’t know.” Something flickered in Trent’s eyes. “What are you offering?”

“I have nothing to bargain with.”

Cards on the table, she maintained her poker face while his gaze raked over her. Heat rose to her skin. It wasn’t humiliation she felt, but desire. If confronted, he would deny that he wanted her, but the flare of his nostrils and the way his pupils dilated hinted that the chemistry between them hadn’t faded.

“You have something.”

Savannah shook her head, unsure if what she was picking up off him was real or wishful thinking. “Rafe burned through all our cash chasing alternative medical treatments that didn’t work,” she said. “After he died, I had to sell the house to pay off his debts.”

And she’d come up short by a million. She’d counted on selling Rafe’s shares back to Siggy for enough money to clear the debt and maybe have a little bit to start over somewhere new.

But Siggy didn’t want his shares back. He wanted Rafe’s son.

“The only thing of value left is Dylan’s shares in the company,” she continued. “But I can’t touch that.”

“I don’t want money,” Trent said.