Billionaire's Baby Promise

Darn it, he was right. But the heck of it was, she didn’t have much of a choice right now. Her options were few and far between and there was no guarantee that when she went to pick up Marie after work today there wouldn’t be a pack of people with cameras waiting for them. “Fine. But I don’t have to like it.”

“If you liked it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Instead, you’d be holding an impromptu press conference in the bank’s parking lot. We need to meet, Christine.”

Her stomach turned. She leaned forward, putting her head between her knees. “I don’t want you in my home. Don’t take it personally.”

“I don’t. Besides, I’m not going to your apartment. One of the worst things that could happen would be for a strange man to be photographed entering and leaving your apartment. Similarly, you can’t come to my place. If you’re followed—and I think it’s safe to assume you will be—that’s another set of headlines that neither of us wants.”

Okay, so he was being honest. “You want to meet in public?” Because that also seemed like a bad idea.

“And risk more media coverage? Out of the question.”

She honestly didn’t know if this conversation was making her feel better or worse. “So if we can’t meet in private and we can’t meet in public, how the heck are we supposed to meet?”

“You attend the Red Rock church, correct?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you know that.”

Red Rock was her attempt to bridge the evangelical teachings of her childhood with the faith that was in her heart. She needed a spiritual home and a nondenominational megachurch was a good place to disappear.

Plus, they had a nice child care center. Going to Sunday services was as close as she got to a weekly break.

“Which service do you normally attend—the nine a.m. or the ten forty-five?”

“The later one.” This seemed like a bad idea. Meeting with a—well, she didn’t really know what to call Daniel Lee. He certainly wasn’t a friend. Maybe a spy? Finally, she decided on associate. Meeting an associate like Daniel Lee in church seemed colossally wrong.

But sometimes, there simply was no right option.

“Which side of the chapel do you sit on?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know,” she snapped. Immediately, she added, “Sorry. I’m under a lot of stress right now.”

“There’s no need to apologize. If I know which side you sit on, it’ll make it easier to find you. I don’t want it to look like you’re looking for me. I would like you to think if there is a classroom or a small alcove—an out-of-the-way place where we could chat without being conspicuous about it. Can you do that?”

“There will be people around. Over two thousand people go to this church.”

“We’re not hiding. We’re merely being inconspicuous.”

Was she supposed to understand that distinction? “I sit on the far left side. It’s close to the aisle and closer to the child care center if there’s a problem. And there are a few places where we could talk with minimal interruptions.” She hoped.

Actually, the idea of meeting in a semipublic place like the church wasn’t half-bad. She didn’t want to be alone with him. But if they were in the church, there would be people around. It was probably as safe as it was going to get.

“Excellent. I’ll find you after the service. But don’t hesitate to call me before then if there’s something you need help with.”

“All right.” It was Friday. Surely, she could make it through a day and a half, right?

“Christine, I’m serious. If you see someone around who makes you uncomfortable, try to get a picture of them, then call me immediately.”

“What are you going to do that the police couldn’t?”

There was another pause, one that felt heavy and ominous. “I’ll see you on Sunday,” he said, completely avoiding the question. “Keep a low profile until then.”

That made her laugh even as her eyes began to water again. “I’ve been doing that for the last year and a half. I go to work, I go grocery shopping and I go home. I do my laundry and then take care of my daughter. I don’t have wild nights on the town. I don’t take lovers. I’m the most boring person I know and see what good it’s done me?” She only realized she was shouting because her voice echoed off the tiled walls of the bathroom. “It doesn’t matter how low my profile is. I’m nothing but bait in a sea of sharks. And it’s all your fault.”

She didn’t know what she expected him to do. Defend himself? Yell? Point out that, if she had managed to get married before she’d gotten pregnant, none of this would have happened? That was her father’s favorite. This was nobody’s fault but her own.

Daniel Lee said none of those things. “I know. Just remember that help is a phone call away. You’re not alone.” And just like that, he ended the call, leaving her in a state of shock.

Had he just admitted that she was right? That didn’t seem possible. Someone as gorgeous and refined as Daniel Lee—he wasn’t the kind of person who owned up to his mistakes—was he?

As tempting as it was, she knew she could not hide out in the ladies’ room for the rest of her workday. Sooner or later, her bosses would send Sue to find her and then there would be another makeover session and she would have to go back to her desk and stare at the voicemail, which by now was probably approaching hundreds of messages.

But she couldn’t move just yet. She didn’t trust that man. She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted anyone.

You’re not alone.

Oh, if only that were true.

* * *

One of the many things Daniel had learned at a young age was how to blend in. Going to school in Chicago had been easy. He had been surrounded by children of Korean descent and other Asians, Eastern Europeans and Africans, in addition to Americans of all colors. Americans could look like anyone and be like anyone.

It hadn’t been that way in Seoul. Even as a child, he had stuck out. By the age of ten, he’d been taller than his mother and by the age of twelve, taller than his grandfather. His hair and eyes weren’t black. His eyes would never be as green as his half brother Zeb’s, but they were a light brown and his hair had an almost reddish look to it.

Most Americans guessed he was Asian, but Koreans knew he was American on sight.

So he had learned how to blend in. His grandfather had paid for a private tutor to instruct him on Korean social manners and Daniel had been an eager student—first, in the hope that he would fit into his grandfather’s world and then, when it became apparent he never would, just to show up the old man. Similarly, every fall when he came back to Chicago after three long months in Seoul, he had to relearn how to shake hands, how to tell American jokes—hell, even how to walk. He took longer strides in Chicago.

He was good at blending, though. Sometimes, due to his coloring, people thought he might be Hispanic. Daniel had learned not to mind. People saw what they wanted to see, which made it easier to blend in.

Take this Sunday morning, for instance. People wanted to see a potential new church member and Daniel gave them what they wanted. He was wearing a pair of brown corduroys and a thick cable knit sweater over a denim shirt. On top of all of that, he had on a ski jacket and snow boots and a knit cap pulled over his ears. He’d added a pair of glasses. In other words, he looked nothing like Daniel Lee but everything like a hipster attendee of a megachurch.

Daniel wanted to see Christine with his own eyes. He was responsible for dragging her name through the mud—that wasn’t even a question. But what if...

What if she was just as crazy as her father was? What if she was a manipulative, coldhearted woman?

He didn’t think so. When he had dug up all that dirt on her two years ago, he hadn’t found anyone who’d described her that way. She’d gone through a wild phase in high school, but lots of teenagers rebelled. Besides, Christine had settled down in college. She’d met the man who’d fathered her daughter and gotten her life together.

Until Daniel had blown it up.

It was easy to get lost in a crowd of this size. The day was cold and everyone was bundled up. Aside from his clothing, all he needed was a friendly smile and a certain eagerness in his gaze.

He let the crowd carry him into the lobby. He snagged a program and pretended to read it as he studied the crowd. He didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, but then again, whoever was shadowing Christine was probably trying to blend in just as much as he was.

And then she walked right past him, that little girl in her arms. Marie, he mentally corrected himself. She wasn’t just a little girl. She was the child Christine would do anything to protect.

Christine didn’t notice him. She was busy chatting with her daughter, getting her puffy pink coat unzipped and the stocking cap off her head. It was the first time he’d seen Christine smile. God, she was stunning when she was happy.

Marie had a red nose and redder cheeks, but a big smile that she spread around the room. She even looked at Daniel and grinned, her blue eyes lighting up as if she had been waiting for him all this time.