The Buchanan's Baby(9)

Shannon accepted the attorney’s advice with a barely noticeable nod and then left, anxious to get back to Aubrey.

Make nice with Nolan? What did that mean? Take him to dinner, chat casually about the weather? Try to forget that every sexual fantasy she’d entertained since that night featured him? Her cheeks burned at that private admission. That was before he was a reality, she reminded herself. It was fun to fantasize about being with Nolan again when there was absolutely no chance of it happening ever again. And now that he was trying to take her child from her? Hell no. She wouldn’t touch him — for real or in her mind — for all the money in the world.

As far as she was concerned, Nolan Buchanan was Public Enemy No. 1.

Nolan didn’t have a single memory of his father that wasn’t clouded over with a veneer of disdain. When he was younger he’d often wished their childhood was more like the other kids his age rather than the cold, over-privileged existence of his youth. He’d yearned for a father who played ball with him or taught him something of value rather than the workaholic who rarely noticed his children at all unless they were underfoot. The Buchanan children had been raised by a succession of nannies — most of which their father had slept with at some point or another — and later, when they were too old for nannies, they’d all been shipped off to private boarding schools. Sure, they’d received the best education money could buy but somewhere along the way, they’d missed out on some very important lessons. He knew his sexual appetites were excessive but until now that hadn’t mattered. He loved women — all shapes and sizes — and his pursuit of women had been one of his most pleasurable activities but he had to admit, after seeing how happy Penny and Dillon were, he had to wonder if he was defective because the idea of settling down made him a little queasy.

How was he supposed to raise a daughter? He knew how to woo a woman, to bend her to his will so he could do all manner of filthy things to her, but he didn’t know the first thing about being a good father to a little girl. For the first time since he was a young boy, he was uncertain as to how to proceed. The coward in him wished he could do as Vince suggested and simply walk away, dusting his hands free of the whole mess. But that wasn’t possible. Just the idea of never knowing how his little girl was faring or who was raising her made him want to howl with something he couldn’t define. What the hell was happening to him? Was he losing his damn mind?

Maybe he was overthinking the situation. He was dealing with a woman, first and foremost. He knew women. If he could get Shannon on his side, the rest would fall into place. Maybe he could be a good part-time father and his life wouldn’t have to change all that much. Nolan began to warm to his current track of thought. Yeah, he could be a weekend father and be on his best behavior for that time and still be an amazing father to his little girl. Of course, she’d want for nothing. He’d make sure of that. The best of everything for his girl. Top shelf, all the way. Relief at having puzzled through his dilemma made him laugh as his shoulders let go of their tension. He rotated his arm and grimaced. He needed a massage immediately. But first, he picked up the phone and dialed the first florist he found.

“I’d like to order a dozen of your most exotic, expensive roses,” he said to the florist.

“Certainly,” the florist responded with a note of excitement. “And where should we send these beautiful flowers?”

“Have them delivered to the San Jose Juggernaut hockey team, care of the sport trainer, Shannon.”

“Last name, sir?”

He paused, frowning. He didn’t have her last name. He pulled his phone and quickly did an Internet search for the sport trainer information for the San Jose Juggernaut and smiled in triumph. “Garrity. Shannon Garrity,” he answered.

“Excellent choice. A note perhaps to accompany the gift?”

“Write, ‘To New Beginnings’,” he said, liking the sound of that.

“And who shall I say the flowers are from?”

“She’ll know.”

“Very good.”

Nolan gave the florist his credit card number and hung up feeling smug. He’d been going about this all wrong. He should’ve used his tried-and-true methods of softening a woman to his will. Sweet charm had never failed him before; he had no reason to believe it would fail him now. For the first time since he’d received that anonymous note, he felt as if he could breathe. He chuckled at how twisted up in knots he’d been when the solution had been staring him in the face from the start. Glad to have a clear plan that made sense, he turned his mind to other pressing matters. After a few business calls regarding Buchanan Enterprises, and a quick update to Vince, he realized he had the day to himself and ringed the hotel for a massage therapist.