Double Huge:A Twin Stepbrother Romance(24)

But we were a happy bunch. My little boy smiled at me once again and I  scooped him up in my arms. We'd have a new addition soon, and I could  feel the baby beginning to stir.





CHAPTER NINETEEN


Luke




The discovery that Alana was gone filled me with grief. I'd sunk into a  deep depression upon returning home and realizing that her small satchel  had disappeared, the only traces of her the echoes of laughter in the  empty apartment.

And she'd taken my son again. I'd fallen in love with Georgie during our  brief acquaintance, the little boy an image of me that could not be  denied. I was hell bent on dragging them back, but knew that my  Wildflower would only run again. She'd run once before, and my beautiful  bride would continue to run so long as she didn't feel safe.

I'd been incandescent with anger at the interruption to our wedding. I'd  already destroyed Sabrina through a few well-placed phone calls. She'd  never be welcome at the elite clubs and social gatherings that were  everything to a bitch with her fucked-up values.

But how the fuck had Sabrina located Alana's birth certificate? Sabrina  was crafty, but certainly not hard-working enough to mine the musty  storage rooms of the New York City Register. I'd interviewed everyone on  my staff but discovered no leak. It was only ruminating in the dark  confines of my office that I realized there was someone I'd never spoken  to  …  Alana's mom.

I'd driven out to the Bronx, intent on confrontation. It was this bitch  who must have spoiled our union     , with Sabrina as her pawn. I'd  pounded on the door to a derelict house, the paint peeling and shutters  drooping from their hinges. I'd expected to see someone rundown and  aged, but the woman who'd opened the door had been unexpectedly  beautiful, with a strong resemblance to her daughter. Her blonde hair  was faded, but swept into an elegant updo, and she wore a cashmere  sweater even if there were holes at the elbows.         

     



 

She knew who I was immediately.

"Luke Miller," she greeted. "I wondered when you'd piece two and two together."

I'd barreled into her home, the interior shabby and makeshift. But  somehow, I couldn't look down on it. This was where my wildflower had  grown up, and I couldn't make fun of her past, even as I wanted to burn  the place down.

"Tell me where she is," I growled.

"I don't know," said Lilly Johnson. "Don't you?" she looked at me  questioningly. I'd set detectives on Alana's trail, but hadn't been able  to pin her location yet. All I knew was that she was somewhere out  west, with my baby in tow.

"Why did you do it?" I growled, not even bothering to re-hash the unfortunate turn of events.

"Ah, your wedding," said Lilly slowly. "Before I get into that, Luke,  let me tell you a bit about Alana's life here. Have you any idea what it  was like for her to grow up in the Bronx? Look around you. I raised my  daughter here, scraping by without a penny to spare, while you, your  mother, and your sister lived in the lap of luxury. My Alana had  nothing, while you and your family had everything," she said bitterly.

"You're jealous of us?" I asked disbelievingly. "You should blame Robert  Woodson," I said roughly. "He's the one who left you." My stepfather  was Alana's biological dad, and had deserted Lilly when he'd found out  she was pregnant.

"I don't blame Robert for leaving," she said. "But it was the fact that  he forgot about us. He didn't care about his own daughter. He didn't  send a penny our way, instead lavishing his riches on you and your  sister."

I stopped short. "Lady, you've got this all wrong. I don't know where  you're getting your information, but the family wealth comes from my  family …  and not Robert."

"Of course," she said. "You're chairman of Atlantis Records. But Robert was the one who raised you in the lap of luxury."

"No," I said slowly, shaking my head. "My mother is a scion of the  Phelps clan, an old banking family from Long Island. When she married  Robert, Robert was not much more than a small-town lawyer. It was my mom  and her trust fund that paid for our apartment on Fifth Avenue," I  said.

"But  … " she sputtered. "But Robert Woodson is a partner at an investment  fund! He's running for political office! No one can do that without  deep pockets."

"That's right," I nodded again. "My mom's pockets. The hedge fund was  set up for Robert by the Phelps family so that he could have a  respectable position, but it's never made the kind of money needed for  our lifestyle. His campaign is being funded by my mom's trust even now,"  I said, gesturing with my hands. "Maybe he never gave Alana anything,  but that's because he never had anything to give," I said. "The trust  ensured that all the money stayed in the family."

Lilly turned a deathly shade of white. Her mouth opened and closed a few  times but only a raw choking sound came out. She sat down limply on an  ottoman and buried her face in her hands.

"What have I done? What have I done?" she moaned as she rocked back and forth.

Although I'd come to destroy this woman, I no longer felt anything but  pity for the old lady in her ramshackle house. She wanted to destroy my  mother's happiness, but her reasons had been completely baseless and  wrong. The end result was that she'd only harmed her own daughter.

"I'm going now," I said to no one in particular. Lilly didn't seem to  hear me as she rocked back and forth, this time with cries of "Alana,  forgive me!"

I knew my job here was done, and returned to the City to get back on Wildflower's trail.





CHAPTER TWENTY


Alana




"So Alana, can I come in tonight?" said Danny. The big oilman was  brawny, with wide shoulders and a shock of red hair. He leaned against  the door jamb, looking hopefully into my room with its saggy double bed.  Georgie's crib was in the corner, empty right now as Miss Lyons babysat  him.         

     



 

"Oh Danny," I said, gesturing helplessly at the space behind me. "My son will be back soon, and I just can't," I said.

He looked hopefully at me. "Babies don't know, you know  … " he said, his voice trailing off.

I couldn't pretend that I'd misunderstood.

"That's true, Georgie's too young to know anything about adult  relations, but it doesn't make a difference," I said. "I'm just not in a  position to entertain male visitors right now. Good night," I said  firmly, stepping into my room and shutting the door.

I breathed a sigh of relief as Danny's footsteps retreated down the  hall. As the only woman under forty at the rooming house, I'd attracted  my fair share of attention from the oilmen. Not a few had asked me out,  and I'd finally consented to seeing a movie with a big puppydog of a  man, Danny. He was harmless, even if he was six foot five and as wide as  a refrigerator. But I just wasn't ready to move on with another man.  Thoughts of Luke still ran through my head, and my increasing belly only  served to remind me of the one and only male I'd ever love.

I lay back on my shabby quilt and rubbed my belly gently. A fluttery  kick moved against my hand and I laughed softly. He or she was going to  be a soccer player!

I missed Luke desperately and glanced at the phone next to my bed. A  call would be prohibitively expensive, but at the same time  …  I'd run  out on him once with his child, and didn't want to do it a second time.  He deserved to know that he was going to be a father again, even if we  couldn't be together.

I tentatively picked up the phone and dialed his cell, his number  memorized in my heart. A deep male voice answered and ground out, "Are  you home?"

"Y-...Yes," I stammered. How did he know who it was?

"I'll be right over," he growled and hung up. I lay back again, my head  spinning. How did he know it was me? How did he know where I lived? A  few minutes later, I heard the hum of an expensive car pull up outside  the boarding house, and lifted my window shade for a peek. A Porsche was  parked at the curb, its wheels steaming from the drive. An  ominous-looking Luke got out of the car, catching my gaze at the second  floor window, and my heart almost stopped. He was as darkly handsome as  ever, his blue eyes penetrating with that massive build that made my  mouth water. I darted downstairs and flung open the front door.

He didn't say a word. I was caught in his embrace, his big arms circling  my waist, his lips finding mine for an insistent kiss. Ever the alpha,  his tongue thrust between my lips, deepening our contact and  unmistakably marking me as his territory. He dragged me up the stairs to  my second-floor room, slamming the door shut behind us.

"What …  what are you doing in Alaska?" I gasped. "How did you find me? How did you know where I live?"

"Shh, no words Wildflower," he murmured in my ear. "Just feel."