Anna DePalo – Millionaire's Wedding Revenge / Stranded with the Tempting Stranger: Millionaire's Wedding Revenge (страница 7)

The little girl looked up suddenly and stared at him.

He stared back—and felt the breath leave him.

The girl had dark brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and her large brown eyes stared at him innocently.

But the characteristic he zeroed in on was her cleft chin.

He was all too familiar with the trait. He viewed it every morning when he shaved, and he saw it in the faces of his siblings.

All the Garrisons had cleft chins.

The girl looked to be around three, which would make her the right age….

His mind froze.

The little girl smiled and pointed. “Mommy, there’s a man here.”

He watched as Megan looked over her shoulder.

When she saw him, her eyes widened and her lips parted. Color drained from her face.

She owed him some answers big time, Stephen thought grimly.

He could read the truth in Megan’s reaction, could see it in his daughter’s face. His daughter.

“Hello, Megan.” Given his fury, he was surprised by how even his voice was.

Not in front of Jade, her eyes seemed to beg him as he stepped forward.

“And who is this pretty girl?” he asked, looking over at Jade.

The little girl giggled. “I’m Jade.”

A door opened and slammed. “Sorry, I’m late—”

Stephen turned to see a woman—a cute blonde who looked to be in her early twenties—stopped in front of Megan’s back door.

Megan rose. “That’s okay, Tiffany. I was just entertaining Jade with some finger-painting.”

Stephen noticed Tiffany gazing at him as if she recognized him.

More likely than not, she did. If she and her friends partied at the Garrison Grand or one of the other hot spots among the Garrison properties, chances were good she would have seen him. Or maybe she recognized him from the newspapers.

“My name is Jade, and I like green!”

Despite the charged atmosphere, Stephen couldn’t help smiling at the little girl’s outburst. The tyke had personality.

Megan looked down at her daughter. “Time to clean up, sweetie.”

“But, Mommy, we’re not done!”

“Why don’t I finish painting with Jade?” Tiffany offered, stepping forward, though her eyes remained on him.

Doubtlessly, Stephen thought, she was wondering what he was doing standing in Megan’s yard.

“Yes, Megan,” he drawled, “why don’t you let Tiffany take over, since you and I need to talk.”

His tone said she wasn’t getting rid of him. He wanted answers now.

Their eyes met and clashed until Megan broke contact.

“All right,” she said finally, then raised her arms to untie the smock from behind her neck.

Because Tiffany continued to look at him curiously, he said smoothly, “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Megan?” Then without waiting for a response, he held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Stephen Garrison.”

Jade’s father. Megan’s former lover. The guy who just found out he has a child.

“I thought I recognized you!” Tiffany exclaimed. “You’re the owner of the Garrison Grand, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he acknowledged, then shook Tiffany’s hand.

He was used to women stating the obvious when meeting him for the first time.

He knew his effect on the opposite sex. He was tall, well-built and rich. Three qualities women loved. When they weren’t slipping him their phone numbers or hotel keys, they were finagling an introduction from friends.

His image blended with that of the Garrison Grand: life in the fast lane.

“Get around, don’t you?” Megan remarked drily.

He arched a brow as he stepped toward where she stood, waiting for him. “I’m locally known, if that’s what you mean.”

He could tell Tiffany was following their exchange avidly, which made it all the more imperative that he and Megan find a place where they could speak privately.

“Listen to what Tiffany says, sweetheart,” Megan said to her daughter before turning to walk toward the back door.

He followed, watching Megan’s hips swing in tailored shorts and a light blue T-shirt, her feet in flip-flops.

She could have been any suburban mother trying to entertain her kid on a hot weekend afternoon.

Except now he knew she was the mother of his kid.

He trailed her through the house to a cozy living room furnished with tropical-print furniture and strewn with toys.

She stopped and turned to face him.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me I had a daughter?” he began without preamble. “And don’t bother denying it. She’s got the Garrison features, right down to the cleft chin!”

She folded her arms in front of her, almost hugging herself. “I thought it was best.”

“You…thought…it…was…best?” Fury made him enunciate every word. “Best for whom? You? Because I can already tell you, honey, it sure as hell wasn’t best for me.” He stabbed his finger in the direction of the yard. “And it’s questionable whether it was best for that little girl out there to be raised by you alone and denied all the advantages I could have provided for her.”

He’d just given voice to her own niggling doubts over the years, Megan thought.

There were times when she’d thought about contacting Stephen. Times when she’d wondered whether she was doing the right thing by not telling him of Jade’s existence.

And then she’d thought about his betrayal and his playboy lifestyle, and realized all over again he wasn’t father material. There was no way he’d be happy to learn he’d accidentally fathered a child.

Now, though, he’d found out about Jade in the worst possible way.

Still, she rebelled at his judgment of her.

“Why?” he asked.

“It was clear to me our affair was coming to an end.”

“Try again,” he snapped. “You’ve used that line before. It may have sufficed as a reason for breaking up, but it doesn’t explain why you kept my daughter from me.”

“What would you have done if I’d told you?” she flung back at him. “Would you have accused me of deliberately getting pregnant? Of trying to trap you?”

He stared at her hard. “My reaction is beside the point. I had a right to know.”

“You gave up that right when you proved yourself untrustworthy.”

“Untrustworthy? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you were seeing other women. Having sex with other women.”

He didn’t move a muscle.