Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(14)

It was good. Encouraging, even. And the idea that something so simple   might one day soon be a reality caused her heart to leap in her chest.

There was only one problem.

Lifting her head, she met Marc's gaze. "Why did you do all this?" she asked, passing the legal pad back to him.

"Nothing is written in stone," he murmured, setting aside the tablet and   turning the laptop back toward him. "And it won't be cheap, believe  me.  But the expansion is a good idea. I think it's a smart move and has  the  potential to really pay off in the long run. Especially if you do  well  enough to start that Cookie-of-the-Month Club thing you  mentioned."

Her heart jumped again, making her palms damp and her throat tight. It   was so nice to hear someone sharing her enthusiasm about branching out   with the bakery and actually supporting her ideas.

But in this case, there were strings attached. So many strings.

"That doesn't answer my question," she said softly. And then she asked   again, even though a part of her was afraid of his response. "Why did   you do all this?"

He sat back, clicking the lid of the laptop closed and moving the computer to the nightstand, along with the legal pad.

"You need a partner to pull this off, Vanessa. You know that, or you wouldn't have gone to Blake and Fetzer for help."

Her pulse slowed and the temperature in the room fell ten degrees. Or   maybe it was only her own internal temperature that dropped like a   stone.

"I told you, Marc, I won't take your money."

Shoulders going back, his spine straightened almost imperceptibly, and   his jaw went square and tight. A clear indication he was about to get   stubborn and lay down the Law According to Marc Keller.

Mouth a thin, flat line, he said, "And I told you, Vanessa, that I'm not going anywhere. Not for a while, anyway."

A beat passed while the tension seemed to leak from his stiff form and   jump across the bed into her. The last thing she needed was a reminder   of Marc's refusal to leave town now that he knew about Danny, and all   the fears and concerns his presence brought to the surface.

"So as long as I'm sticking around," he continued, "we might as well use   the time wisely. Why not get started on the expansion and put you one   step closer to your goal?"

Oh, he was smooth and made so much sense. She'd always hated that, because it put him entirely too close to being right.

Of course, he usually was right, at least where business issues were   concerned, which was even more annoying. Especially since he knew it and   often came across as just this side of smug in that awareness.

"I don't want your help, Marc."

Rising from the bed, she linked her arms around her middle and paced   across the room. When she hit the closed door, she turned and paced   back, keeping her gaze locked on the worn and faded carpeting beneath   her feet.

"I don't want to be tied to you, to owe you for anything."

"Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?"

She stopped, lifted her head to meet his eye. One dark brow was raised, his lips curled in a wry half smile.

"We have a child together. I'd say that ties us together more strongly than any business plan or partnership ever could."

She blinked. Dammit. There it was again. He was right and being smug about it.

For better or worse, they were tied to each other now until the end of   time through their son. Birthdays, school events, extracurricular   activities, chicken pox, measles, puberty, girlfriends, his first tattoo   or piercing …

She shuddered. Oh, God, please no piercings or tattoos. That might   actually be the one parental matter she'd happily delegate to Marc for a   good old-fashioned father-to-son heart-to-heart.

But given how ugly and heartbreaking-at least on her part-their   separation had been, it was no wonder she wasn't looking forward to   sharing any of that with him. And no wonder she'd tried to keep Danny a   secret to begin with. It might not have been the right thing to do, but   it sure made life a lot less complicated.

"That's different," she said quietly.

He inclined his head, though whether in agreement or simply acquiescence, she wasn't sure.                       
       
           



       

"However you feel about that," he said slowly, "it doesn't change the   facts. I'm going to be in Summerville, getting to know my son and make   up for lost time, for several weeks, at least. You might as well take   advantage of that-and of my willingness to invest money into your   bakery."

Pushing up from the bed, he came to stand in front of her, cupping his   hands over her shoulders. His slightly callused palms felt rough against   her bare skin, his warmth seeping into her pores.

"Think about it, Nessa," he murmured barely above a whisper. His eyes,   as green and lush as summer moss, bored into hers. "Use your head here   instead of sticking to stubborn pride. The smart and savvy businesswoman   in you knows I'm right, knows this is an opportunity you'd be crazy to   pass up. Even if it is coming from your despicable ex-husband."

He said the last with a quick wink and a self-deprecating quirk of his full, sexy lips.

It was that wink and the fact that he knew how badly she didn't want him   around but apparently wasn't holding it against her that made her stop   and think, just as he'd suggested.

Think through his offer logically and reasonably, and with the   level-headed, straightforward intelligence that had convinced her to   take the risky financial plunge of opening The Sugar Shack with Aunt   Helen in the first place. Weigh her options. Weigh her desire to expand   the bakery and accept a much-needed infusion of cash and support  against  her desire to keep Danny to herself, keep miles upon miles of  distance  between her and Marc-both figuratively and literally-and  maintain  complete control over her business rather than sharing it with  a third  party who may or may not be as genuinely committed to its  growth and  success as she and her aunt were. Or worse yet, had the  power to crush  her and her business at the slightest provocation.

And there would be provocation, wouldn't there? There already was, in   that she'd kept first her pregnancy and then Danny's existence from him   to begin with.

For all she knew, he could be hiding his true feelings from her, being   kind and considerate and generous in an effort to lull her into a false   sense of security. Then the minute she agreed to take his money, to let   him partner with her in the bakery and to be a part of Danny's life,  he  would spring the trap, taking everything from her.

Her business, her security, her son.

Did she really believe that, though? Despite the bitterness involved on   both sides of their divorce, he had never been deliberately cruel. He   hadn't tried to hurt her, hadn't used his powerful influence or family   fortune to leave her destitute.

Thanks to the prenuptial agreement his family-or more to the point, his   mother-had insisted on before their wedding, Vanessa had left the   marriage with not much more than she'd walked into it with, but she was   well aware that it could have been worse.

She had friends who had gone through much nastier divorces. She'd heard   the horror stories where women who had been married to extremely  wealthy  men were put through the wringer and kicked onto the street  with barely  the clothes on their backs, sometimes with their children  in tow.

Marc had never been that type of man. He'd always had a very low-key personality, opting for silent fury over angry blow-ups.

Even during their marriage, he might not have been as attentive as she   would have liked or taken her complaints about his family or his   distance seriously, but he had never resorted to petty arguments or   name-calling. A couple of times, she'd even wished for something like   that, if only as proof that he still cared enough to fight. With her or   for her; back then, either would have translated as caring at all.

But his response to marital conflict had always been to lock his jaw,   slip into stony silence and go back to the office to work even longer   hours that pushed them even farther apart.

Marc was also one of the most honest men she'd ever met. It would be   just like him to compartmentalize their current relationship.

Anything involving Danny would remain strictly personal, and he would   deal with her on a personal, father-to-mother level. Anything involving   her bakery would remain strictly a business venture and he would treat   it as such.

If he pulled out of The Sugar Shack, it would be only his money and   professional ties that went with him, not his love for Danny or   determination to be in his son's life. And on the other side of the   coin, if they were at odds about something that concerned Danny, he   would never pull his financial backing of the bakery just to make her   life miserable.