His Son, Her Secret(3)

Marvin waved this away. "That will keep. Go on-see if this is a job worth taking. Charlene has the address."

"Thank you." Leona gathered up her tablet computer-one of her true  luxuries-and grabbed her purse. She got the address from Charlene, the  receptionist, and hurried to the car.

A brewpub. One that was on the far south side of the city, she noted as  she programmed the address into her Global Positioning System. There  wasn't any other information to go with the address-like which brewery  this was for-but that was probably a good sign. Instead of doing an  upgrading project, maybe this would be a brand-new venture. That would  not only mean more billable hours but the chance to make this project  the showcase she'd need when she started her own firm.

The GPS estimated the pub's location was about forty minutes away.  Leona called May and updated her on her whereabouts and then she hit the  road.

Thirty-seven minutes later, Leona drove past a small sign that read  Percheron Drafts as she turned into a driveway that led to a series of  old brick buildings. She looked up at the tall smokestack in awe. White  smoke puffed out lazily, but that was practically the only sign of life.                       
       
           



       

Percheron Drafts...why did that name sound familiar? She'd heard it  somewhere, but she didn't actually drink beer. She was going to have to  fake it for this meeting. She'd have time to do the research tonight.

The GPS guided her underneath a walkway, around the back of the  building and told her to park on a gravel lot that had weeds growing  everywhere. Ahead she saw a ramp that led down to an open door.

Okay, she thought as she turned the car off and grabbed her things. So  maybe the building was old, but this certainly wasn't an already  established restaurant. Heck, she didn't even see another car parked  here. Was this the right place?

She got out and put on her professional smile. Then-like something out  of a dream-a man walked through the doors and up the ramp. The sunlight  caught the red in his hair and he smiled at her.

She knew that walk, that hair. She knew that smile-lopsided and warm and happy to see her.

Oh, God.

Byron.

Percheron Drafts... It suddenly clicked. That was the name of the  brewery the Beaumont family had started after their family business had  been sold-and she only knew about that because it was her father who'd  forced the sale.

Panic kicked in. He was coming toward her, his lean legs closing the  distance rapidly. If he got too close, he'd see the baby seat in the  back of her car.

Her head began to swim. She wasn't ready for this. He'd walked out on  her. He'd believed her father over her and simply disappeared-just like  her father had said all Beaumont men did. Beaumonts took whatever woman  they wanted and when they were done, they simply abandoned them-and kept  the children.

She'd known she'd have to confront him eventually. But now? Right freaking now?

She wasn't ready. She hadn't lost all the baby weight and, as a result,  she was wearing the only kind of business-casual attire she could  afford-the kind from discount stores. She couldn't even be sure that  Percy hadn't spit up on her blouse this morning.

When she'd imagined facing the man who'd broken her heart and abandoned  her, she'd wanted to look her very best to make him physically hurt.  She hadn't wanted to look like a rumpled single mother struggling to get  by.

Even if he was the reason she was exactly that.

But she couldn't let him see into the back of the car. If he didn't  know about Percy, she wasn't going to tell him until she'd had time to  come up with a plan. Because what if he did the Beaumont thing and  demanded her child? She could not lose her son. She couldn't let Byron  raise the boy to be yet another Beaumont in the line of Beaumont men.  She had to protect her baby.

So, against her better judgment, she walked toward him.

Oh, this wasn't fair. It just wasn't. Byron's hair had gotten a little  longer and he wore it pulled back into a low ponytail, which took all of  the natural curl out of it-except for one piece that had come free. His  lanky frame had filled out a little, giving him a more muscular look  that was positively sinful in the white button-up shirt he wore cuffed  at the sleeves.

He looked good. Heck, he looked better than good. And she looked...dumpy. Damn it all.

They met in the middle of the parking lot, stopping less than two feet  from each other. "Leona," he said in his deep baritone voice as he  looked at her. His eyes were a deeper blue now-or maybe that was just  the bright sun. God, he was so handsome.

She would not be swayed by his good looks. Those looks lied, just like he did.

"Byron," she replied. Because what else could she say here? Where have  you been? I had your son after you left me? I don't know if I want to  kiss you or strangle you?

This was no big deal, she tried to tell herself. It was just the former  love of her life, the father of her son-suddenly back after a year's  absence. And apparently hiring her for a job. A flash of anger gave her  strength. If he was back, why hadn't he just called her? Why did he have  to hire her?

Unless...he hadn't come back for her.

He'd left without her, after all, jetting off to Europe. That'd been as  much information as Leona had been able to get out of Byron's twin  sister, Frances. Europe-as far away from Leona as he could get without  leaving the planet. Or so it had felt.

And now he was back and hiring her. For a job she desperately needed.  This was not him sweeping back into her life and making everything  right. This was not him needing her.

So she did not flinch as he looked her up and down as if he expected  her to fall into his arms and tell him how damned much she'd missed him.  She would not give him the satisfaction. Yes, the past year had been  the hardest year of her life. But she wasn't the same silly little girl  who believed love would somehow conquer all. The past year had shown her  how tough she could be. It was time for Byron to realize the same  thing.                       
       
           



       

But it was difficult to keep her head up as his gaze traveled over her.  He'd always done that-looked at her as though she was the most  beautiful woman on the planet. Even when they'd worked together at that  restaurant and the cream of the high-society crop had come into the  restaurant every single night-even when other women had thrown  themselves at his Beaumont name-Byron had always had eyes only for her.

She shivered at the memory of the way he used to look at her-at the way he was looking at her right now.

"You cut your hair," he noted.

Her mouth opened, the truth on the tip of her tongue-she'd cut it  because Percy liked to yank it while he was nursing. She clamped down on  that impulse. The words sat in the back of her throat, a lead weight  that held her tongue still. She would give him absolutely nothing to use  against her. She would not let him hurt her again.

"I like it," he hurried to add when she couldn't think of a single reasonable thing to say in response.

She blushed at the compliment. Her fingers itched to tuck the short bob  behind her ears, but she held fast to the straps of her bag. She was  not here for Byron, just like he hadn't been there for her. She was here  to do a job and that was final. "Do you really need an interior  designer or did you call me away from my job just to note I've changed  my style?" Since you left.

She didn't say those last words out loud, but they seemed to hang in between them anyway.

Byron took another step toward her. He reached up. Leona held her  breath as he trailed the very tips of his fingers over her cheek. It was  almost as if he couldn't believe she was really here, either.

Then he reached down and picked up her left hand. His thumb rubbed over  her ring finger-her bare ring finger. "Leona..." he murmured, his voice  husky with what she recognized as need. He lifted her hand to his lips  and kissed it.

Everything about her body tightened at the sound of her name from his  mouth, his lips on her hand-tightened so much that she had to close her  eyes because if she looked into the depths of Byron's beautiful blue  eyes for one second longer, she'd be lost all over again.

It'd always been this way. There'd been something about Byron Beaumont  that had pulled her in from the very beginning-something that should  have sent her running the other way.

After all, her father had been drumming his hatred of all things  Beaumont into her head for as long as she could remember. She knew all  about Hardwick Beaumont, her father's nemesis, and his heirs. How the  Beaumonts were dangerous, how they seduced young and innocent women and  then cast them aside as if they were nothing.

Just as Leona had been seduced and cast aside.