Loe raamatut: «Holiday Baby Scandal»

To all the readers who’ve asked about Ryker...you’re welcome.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

One

With one hand clutching the forgotten cuff links and one hand firmly over her still-flat stomach, Laney pulled in a deep breath and willed courage to make an appearance.

She was an O’Shea, damn it. She didn’t back down in the face of fear. Fear was nothing but a lie. A bold-faced lie capable of defeating most people. Laney wasn’t most people.

She’d come this far, all she had to do was knock...and make a life-changing confession to a man she’d been in love with since she was old enough to notice boys. Forget the fact he’d been ten years older. Age meant about as much to her as fear did.

Tears clogged her throat as emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Whatever his reaction, she owed him the truth. But if he rejected her, the pain would slice deep.

Laney pushed aside the hurt, the fear and the nausea, and pounded on Ryker Barrett’s front door.

No turning back now.

Ryker had been part of her life since she was a child. He’d worked for her father, was best friends with her brothers. Her family had taken him in when his own had turned him away. He was mysterious, intriguing and frustrating.

And for the past five weeks he’d been pretending nothing had happened. He gave no hint that he even recalled tearing her Chanel dress from her body before holding her against her hotel room wall and bringing her every desire to life.

Nope. It was business as usual. When she’d had to feed him information via email or text for O’Shea’s auctions, he’d never given any indication that their one heated night had made an impact on his life whatsoever. Was he that emotionally detached?

Well, he was about to sustain one hell of an impact. He may try to ignore her, but there was no way he could ignore the consequences of their night.

The door swung open and the entire speech she’d rehearsed all morning vanished from her mind. Ryker stood before her wearing only a pair of running shorts, a tatted chest and glorious muscle tone.

She’d never seen him this way. The man who traveled the globe in designer suits, the man who donned a leather jacket and worn jeans to blend in when necessary, had never presented himself in such a beautiful, natural manner. He should do this more often.

Casual as you please, Ryker rested a forearm on the edge of the door and quirked a brow as if she’d disturbed him. Yeah, well, he deserved to be put out. She’d been fighting her feelings for him for years.

Rage bubbled from within as she slapped his cuff links against his bare chest and pushed past him. In all the years she’d known him, Laney had never come to his house in Boston. When they met, it was always on neutral ground, usually at the O’Shea family home her brother Braden now lived in.

As infuriating as Ryker could be, Laney was the first to admit that her family would crumble without him. He may be the “enforcer,” the guy who kept them protected and took the brunt of any backlash they ever faced, but he could easily cut ties and leave. This billionaire never threw his money around like most men she knew. Loyalty meant much more to Ryker than finances ever would...one of the many reasons she was drawn to him.

The door closed at her back. Laney shut her eyes and tried to forget the intensity of their complicated relationship, tried to ignore the way her body instantly responded to this man. She was here for one reason. And the fact that he worked for her family, was practically part of her family, wasn’t making this confession any easier.

“If you’re here regarding the painting in L.A. that you emailed me about last week, I’ve already—”

Laney whirled. “I’m not here about work.”

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Ryker widened his stance and gave a brief nod. “I can’t believe it took you this long to come to me.”

Laney’s heart kicked up. So he knew she would bring up that night, and he’d what? Been waiting on her? Jerk. Uncaring, unfeeling, stupid, sexy jerk. Why couldn’t he put a shirt on? She was trying to keep her anger going, but lust was creeping into the mix.

“You could’ve come to me,” she threw back. “Or, I don’t know, actually talked to me when we were exchanging work information.”

The O’Sheas were a force all their own, known around the globe for their prestigious auction houses. Laney had ignored the whispered “mafia” or “mob” rumors her entire life. She knew full well what her family was, and she was a proud member. They remained on the right side of the law thanks to the connections her late father had made and the ones her brother Braden, who was now in charge, and her other brother Mac continued to work at.

And Ryker Barrett, other than starring in her every fantasy for years, was the family’s right-hand man, security detail and any other job they needed him for. He did the dirty work and lay low, staying out of the limelight and behind the scenes.

Laney waited for him to say something, anything, but he stood there staring at her, which only made her nerves worse. How could he have so much power over her? She was an O’Shea, for crying out loud, and he was just standing there.

Standing there looking all half-naked, sexy and perfect.

Focus, Laney.

Ryker held up the cuff links. “Was this all?”

Laney narrowed her eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

Or someone? It hadn’t even occurred to her that he may be entertaining. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach grew, and she hated the spear of jealousy that ripped through her.

“Yeah, my morning session with the punching bag.”

Which explained those perfectly sculpted arms, shoulders and pecs, though Laney figured he used a punching bag as a means of releasing his emotions rather than to stay in shape. Ryker was the epitome of keeping to himself and never letting anyone get too close. So what did that say about that night they shared? Clearly he’d thrown all of his rules out the window because they’d been as close as two people could get.

Nausea pushed its way to the front of the line, bypassing her worry, her fear. Laney closed her eyes, waiting to see if she needed to find the bathroom or take a seat and let the wave pass. Please, please, just pass. Of all times to appear vulnerable, this was not the one.

“Listen, I get you want to discuss what happened,” he began, oblivious to her current state. “I take the blame. I shouldn’t have followed you into your room and—”

“Ripped my clothes off?” she finished, holding a hand to her stomach and glaring across the room at him. “I’m not sorry it happened. I’ve been waiting on you to notice I’m not just Mac and Braden’s little sister. I’ve fantasized about you ripping my clothes off, and I don’t even mind that you ruined my favorite dress. So, I’m not sorry a bit. I’m only sorry about how you treated me after.”

Other than the muscles ticking in his stubbled jaw, Ryker showed no emotion.

“This wasn’t just some one-night stand,” she argued.

“It was.”

Okay. That hurt—the truth often did—but still. They were more, so much more, than a quick, albeit amazing, romp.

“How dare you act like I was just some random stranger?” she yelled, throwing her arms out wide. “I’ve known you almost my whole life. You think it’s okay to have sex with me and—”

He moved in a flash, gripped her shoulders and hauled her against his bare chest. “No, I didn’t think it was okay, but I couldn’t stop. Damn it, Laney.”

Ryker released her and took a step back, letting her go as if she’d burned him. “I couldn’t stop,” he whispered.

* * *

She had to get out of here. The last time they’d been alone his control had snapped, and he was barely hanging on by a thread now that she was in his living room, on his turf.

He’d purposely been avoiding her since their one-night stand, only communicating through texts for stuff related to O’Shea’s. They’d been working together for the past several years. He could admit that when she came on board, his job had become so much easier. With her being able to dig deeper, to infiltrate systems he never could’ve...she was invaluable. Laney’s computer hacking skills were eerily good. If she ever worked with the wrong crowd, she could be dangerous. Granted, some considered the O’Sheas the wrong crowd, but whatever. He couldn’t do his job without her, so avoiding her altogether wasn’t an option.

The torture of working so close together was worth it, though. Even the slightest communication with Laney kept him going. He shouldn’t enjoy the pain of being so near, unable to fulfill his every desire, but he chalked up his masochistic tendencies to his less than stellar childhood.

When he wasn’t on assignment, he typically would hide out at his home in London or take a trip to some random destination just because he could and had no ties. When he was in Boston, he was too tempted to give in to his desires for his best friends’ and bosses’ little sister.

When Laney started to reach for him, Ryker held up a hand. “No.” If she touched him, this whole distance thing would crumble. He’d been playing with fire when he’d grabbed her a second ago...but damn if she didn’t feel good against him.

This had to stop. He owed it to the family who saved him from a living hell. For years he’d ached for her, watched from afar as she grew into a breathtaking woman who managed to slip beneath his defenses. When she’d dated other men, it had nearly gutted him, but what right did he have to say anything?

She was the mafia princess, and he was the family...problem solver. He’d been involved with a lot of dark deeds before her father passed away and left the family business to Braden. Now they were all on the path to being legitimate. But legitimacy didn’t change what he’d done in the past. And no matter that his bank account had more zeroes than any one person would need, that didn’t change the fact he wasn’t worthy of Laney. Not only was she the daughter of one of Boston’s most powerful men, but she’d never made it a secret she wanted a large family, complete with babies and pets. He opted for lovers in other states and countries, to keep things physical and void of all emotions.

To put things simply, they were on opposite ends of this warped world. Since Patrick’s death months ago, Braden and Mac protected her, and rightfully so, from the harsh realities their family faced each day. Actually, Laney’s protection had also been part of Ryker’s job.

Not that he needed the money or the job. But he owed the O’Sheas. Anything they asked for, he would provide or die trying. And it was all of that watching over Laney that had damn near done him in.

Blowing out a breath, he shook his head and faced her, but froze. Laney had stepped back and was leaning against the wall. Her closed eyes, her long, slow breaths had him narrowing the distance between them.

“Laney?” He was near enough to touch her, but kept his hands to himself. See? He could do it. He’d just be right here in case she needed something...like his hands on her.

With shaky fingers, he shoved her hair away from her face. Her lids fluttered open, but a sheen of sweat had popped up over her forehead. Was she that nervous about being here?

“I know you don’t want me here, but I have to tell you something.”

She pushed from the wall, swaying slightly.

Now he didn’t resist contact. Ryker grabbed her around the waist and held her against him. “Are you all right?”

“Let me go.”

Those vibrant green eyes came up to meet his. The punch to his gut instantly forced him back to that night, to her pinned between his body and the wall. She’d panted his name as she’d clung to his back. Never had he experienced anything so...perfect. And he didn’t deserve one second of her affection. Mac and Braden would kick his ass if they knew... Well, they’d try, anyway. He could handle himself in a fight, but he deserved at least a punch to the face over the way he’d seduced Laney like she was just another woman he’d met on one of his trips. Laney was nothing like those other women, and he needed to remember that.

Ryker dropped his hands but didn’t step back. He couldn’t, not when she still seemed so unsteady and his body was wound so tightly. She was a drug, his drug. They were bad for each other for too many reasons, yet he wanted more.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ryker stilled. Had she just...

What the hell? He hadn’t heard her right. No way. When they’d been in Miami, he hadn’t planned on having sex with her after the party at the new O’Shea’s location, but she’d assured him she was on birth control. So, no. He hadn’t heard right.

But Laney continued to stare up at him, and Ryker waited for her to say something else, anything else, because there was no way in hell...

“I’m sorry.” Laney leaned her head back against the wall and shut her eyes once more. “I didn’t know how else to say it. I mean, there’s really no good lead-in to something like this.”

Pregnant. As in, a baby. Their baby.

Ryker turned away as dread consumed him. How the hell had he allowed something like this to even be a possibility? A child was definitely not something he ever wanted in his life. No damn way would he purposely bring an innocent baby into this world. Into his darkness.

“You said you were on birth control.”

He didn’t mean for the words to come out as an accusation, but he was confused, damn it. And angry. Angry at himself, because had he kept that control of his in line, Laney wouldn’t be dropping this bomb.

“I was.” She pulled in a breath and squared her shoulders. “I had to switch the one I was on and started a new one the week before Miami. I don’t know if that’s why it happened. I just don’t know...”

He remembered so clearly her tugging his shirt over his head and telling him she was on birth control, that she had just had a physical and was clean. He knew full well he hadn’t been with anyone for a while, and he’d never gone without protection. So in their frantic state of shedding clothes and getting to the good stuff, they’d had a two-second conversation about contraception.

So here they were. Laney was expecting his child and he was...screwed. Literally.

Bracing his hands on the antique table behind the sofa, Ryker dropped his head. He’d kept his hands, and all his other parts, to himself this whole time. Out of respect for the family who took him in and saved his life, Ryker hadn’t given in to the one desire he’d had for years. Until Miami, damn it. How would he ever make things right with the O’Sheas?

Patrick had taken Ryker in at the age of twelve when Ryker had stood up for Braden and Mac on the playground, and the boys had become best friends. Ryker had instantly become like family, but he’d never thought of Laney as a sister. At the time, he’d ignored her because she was so much younger. But by the time she graduated high school, Ryker was deep in the family business, and more than aware that his dirty hands should never touch the sophisticated Laney O’Shea.

When her computer hacking skills were made apparent, Ryker knew she’d be an asset. He’d just had no idea how difficult it would be to work with her. He could afford to hire anyone to do the behind-the-screen work, but he trusted only her.

Braden and Mac were going to kill him. They would kill him and bury his body, and no one would ever know...and he deserved nothing less.

Damn it. Ryker blew out a breath. This was how he repaid the family who trusted him, who was loyal to him when no one else cared?

“This isn’t your fault.”

Her soft voice washed over him, and he let out a curt laugh. “No? Am I the one who pushed his way into your room, tore that dress off and demanded you wrap your legs around me? Or was that another man?”

He threw her a glance just in time to see her flinch. Great. Now he was being an ass. All of this was on him. Laney didn’t deserve his anger—she was just as innocent as the child.

His gaze dropped to her flat stomach, and fear engulfed him. Images of his biological father flooded his mind, and Ryker vowed that second to never be that man. Never would he lay a hand on his child, never would he choose the next fix over putting food on the table.

Ryker’s childhood may be a sad cliché, but that was life and all too often kids were mistreated while other adults turned a blind eye to the abuse.

Ryker looked down. Random scars covered his knuckles, his forearms. His life was made up of more ugly than anything else, yet this beautiful, vibrant woman stood here giving him something so precious and all he wanted to do was...

Hell. What did he want to do? He never wanted Braden or Mac to find out about the night he’d spent with their baby sister. Not that he was afraid of them. He could handle anything thrown his way—almost anything.

They trusted Ryker to keep the family safe, to keep all threats away. Wasn’t that why he’d been ordered to follow her back to her hotel that night? Because there had been a threat against her?

For years he’d kept asshats away from her. A few months ago he’d had to use physical force and pull some major strings to get her ex out of her life. The man had made a menace of himself and had started harassing Laney. He hadn’t told Laney what happened, and he never would, but he knew she wondered. Wondered if Ryker had done something sinister. And maybe that was for the best. Maybe she wouldn’t get those stars in her eyes like she’d had when they were intimate in Miami.

Pushing off the table, Ryker ran a hand down his face. Stubble rustled beneath his palm, and he honestly had no idea what to do next. He’d never faced something this life-altering, this damn scary.

“I don’t expect anything from you.” Laney stood straight, apparently feeling better. Her coloring was back. “But I wasn’t going to keep this a secret, either. I know you don’t want anything to do with me—”

“Stop saying that,” he growled. “You have no idea what I want.”

She tipped up her head, quirked a brow, as if issuing a silent challenge. “Enlighten me.”

If only things were that easy. If only their relationship was about sex and nothing else. If only was the story of his entire messed-up life.

“I will be here for this child,” he told her, turning to face her fully. “I’ll keep you protected.”

“You’ve been looking out for me for years.”

He took a step forward. “Not like this. If you think I was protective before, you haven’t seen anything.”

Laney rolled her eyes. “Don’t do this. Don’t be overbearing. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I know you would’ve gone on to ignore me on a personal level. That night we spent together wasn’t supposed to happen, but we were on that path for so long, it was inevitable.”

He hated when she was right. Hated even more that every night since then, he’d had to replay it over and over in his mind because he would never be that close to her again. And she’d ruined him for any other woman.

“I can take care of the baby and myself just fine.” She glared back. “But I don’t want my brothers to know just yet. I’m not ready.”

As much as he hated hiding from anything that threatened him, he was in total agreement. Braden and Mac would find out soon enough, but for now, just no. First, he and Laney had to grasp this news themselves.

Ryker took another step until the gap between them was closed. “Let’s get something straight now. I will take care of you and our baby. You need anything, I’m providing it. You won’t shut me out. If I have to haul you off to my home in London and watch you personally, I will.”

Laney snorted. “Really? Now you choose to let me in?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he muttered.

And maybe he never had...not where Laney was concerned.

So how the hell did he even attempt to keep his loyalty to this family when he’d betrayed them? And how was he going to be closer to Laney than ever before and keep his hands off her?

Ryker Barrett had lived through some rough times, but he had a feeling he was entering a whole new level of hell.