Facing Up To Fatherhood Read online

  “Sarah was my secretary, I admit. But we did not have an affair.”

  Tina folded her arms and practically rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, come now, Mr. Hunter, I didn’t come down in the last shower. I know exactly what happened between you and Sarah. How you can stand there and deny having slept with her is beyond me.”

  “I am not the father of that baby, or any other baby. Honey, you’ve got the wrong man.”

  Tina actually smiled at him, an icy smile that set his teeth on edge. “You are Dominic Hunter, the head of Hunter & Associates, aren’t you?”

  “You know I am.”

  “Then I’ve got the right man. But if you insist on a DNA test, I won’t object….”

  He’s a man of cool sophistication.

  He’s got pride, power and wealth.

  At the top of his corporate ladder, he’s a

  ruthless businessman.

  An expert lover—he’s one hundred

  percent committed to staying single.

  His life runs like a well-oiled machine….

  Until now. Because suddenly he’s

  responsible for a BABY!

  His Baby.

  An exciting new miniseries from

  Harlequin Presents®

  He’s sexy, successful…

  and he’s facing up to fatherhood!

  In April, look out for another His Baby title:

  The Unexpected Wedding Gift

  by Catherine Spencer

  Harlequin Presents® #2101

  MIRANDA LEE

  Facing up to Fatherhood

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  TINA glanced up at the towering office block, then down at the pram, and the baby lying within.

  ‘Here we are, darling!’ she announced to the pretty pink-clad infant. ‘Your daddy’s workplace. Unfortunately, your daddy’ll be in a meeting all afternoon, according to his secretary. Didn’t have time for any appointments. Which is just too bad, isn’t it? Because he’s going to see us today whether he likes it or not!’

  Arching a well-plucked eyebrow, she angled the pram determinedly towards the revolving glass doors, hoping for more success than her encounter with the train doors earlier on. Manoeuvring a pram, Tina had found, was as hazardous as one of those wayward shopping trolleys, the kind whose wheels had a mind of their own. Still, she’d only been doing it for a week, so she supposed there were excuses for her ineptitude.

  It was a struggle, but she finally emerged unscathed into the cavernous semicircular foyer with its acre or two of black granite flooring. Tina negotiated this pram-friendly surface with thankful ease, bypassing the busy reception desk and skirting several large lumps of marble masquerading as art, finally halting beneath the huge directory which hung on the wall beside the bank of lifts.

  Hunter & Associates, she swiftly noted, occupied floors nineteen and twenty. Tina also noted Hunter & Associates carried no description of what services or utilities the company provided, other than to say ‘Management’ was on the twentieth floor.

  This might have been a modest oversight, but Tina rather imagined it reflected its owner’s character. Dominic Hunter arrogantly assumed everyone knew his company was one of Sydney’s most successful stockbroking and investment firms.

  He had also arrogantly assumed his affair with his secretary last year would never rise up to bite him on his arrogant backside.

  But he was wrong!

  Sarah might have been a softie. And a push-over where men were concerned. But Tina was not!

  Sarah’s daughter deserved the very best. And Tina aimed to make sure she got it. She would give Dominic Hunter a second chance to be a proper father to his beautiful little daughter. If he didn’t come to the party willingly, then he would be made to pay. And pay handsomely. In this day of DNA testing, simply denying fatherhood was a thing of the past.

  ‘Just let him try it, darling,’ she informed the baby girl as she wheeled the pram into the lift. ‘If he does, we’re going to have his guts for garters!’

  CHAPTER TWO

  DOMINIC raised his eyes to the ceiling as he hung up the phone.

  ‘Women!’ he muttered frustratedly, before standing up to gather his papers together for that afternoon’s meeting, almost knocking over a cold, half-drunk cup of coffee in the process. Only a desperate lunge and grab prevented coffee spilling all over his desk.

  He righted the mug and plonked it well to one side, his sigh carrying total exasperation. He was having a really bad day.

  His colleagues might have thought it was the present economic crisis which was causing his tetchy mood. But that wasn’t the case. Dominic thrived on the challenges the financial arena kept throwing at him, finding great excitement and personal satisfaction in making money, both for himself and all his clients. He’d been called a stockmarket junkie more than once, and had to admit it was true.

  No, Dominic could always cope with business problems. It was the opposite sex which was irritating the death out of him.

  Frankly, he just didn’t understand the species, especially their obsession with marriage and babies. Couldn’t they see that, in this present day and age, the world would actually be better off with less of both? There certainly wouldn’t be as many divorces, or so many unhappy neglected children!

  But, no! Such common sense views never seemed to cut the mustard with women. They went on wanting marriage and babies as though they were the panacea for all the world’s ills, instead of adding to them.

  The same thing applied to romantic love. Crazy, really. When had this unfortunate state ever brought women—or men for that matter—any happiness?

  Dominic had grown up in a household where that kind of love had caused nothing but emotional torment and misery.

  He wanted none of it. Love or marriage or babies—a fact reinforced in his early twenties when a girlfriend had tried to trap him into marriage with a false pregnancy.

  The thought of imminent fatherhood and marriage had horrified him. Perhaps his panic had had something to do with own father being a lousy parent—as well as a faithless husband—producing a subconscious fear he might turn out to be just as big a jerk in that department. He’d already looked like the man.

  Whatever, Dominic’s relief at discovering the pregnancy had been a lie had been very telling. It had also been his first intimate experience at just how far a female would go in pursuit of that old romantic fantasy called ‘love and marriage’.

  After that sobering experience, Dominic always took care of protection personally when having sex. He was never swayed by any female’s assertion that she was on the pill, or that it was a ‘safe’ time of the month. He also always made his position quite clear to every woman he became involved with. Marriage was not on his agenda, no matter what!

  His mother found his views on the subject totally unfathomable. With typical female logic, she simply dismissed them as a temporary aberration.

  ‘You’ll change your mind one day,’ she would say every now and then. ‘When you fall in love…’

  Now that was another romantic illusion his mother harboured. His falling in love! He’d never fallen in love in his life. And he h
ad no intention of doing so. The very word ‘falling’ suggested a lack—and a loss—of control which he found quite distasteful, and which could only lead to one disastrous decision after another!

  Fortunately for him, his mother had been able to channel her grandmotherly hopes up till now towards his younger brother, Mark, who’d married a couple of years back. Dominic had simply assumed Mark and his wife would reproduce in time, thereby letting him permanently off the hook.

  But a few months ago his one and only sibling had unexpectedly arrived home and announced he was leaving his wife to go off to Tibet to become a Buddhist monk! To prove it, he’d promptly given all his considerable worldly goods to his rapidly recovering wife and taken off, his subsequent letters revealing he was happy as a lark living on some mountain-top monastery with only a yak for companionship!

  It didn’t take a genius to conclude there would be no imminent hope of a grandchild from that quarter!

  Which had brought his widowed mother’s focus right back on him, her only other offspring, and now her only other hope of providing her with a grandchild!

  She’d been driving him mad with her none too subtle pressure, inviting all sorts of unattached females home to dinner. All of them beautiful. All of them sexy. And all of them wanting—or pretending to want—the same thing his mother wanted. Marriage and babies.

  She’d just rung to check that he wouldn’t be too late home for dinner tonight, because she’d invited Joanna Parsons over.

  ‘The poor darling has been so lonely since Damien died,’ Ida had purred down the line.

  Lonely? Joanna Parsons? Dear God! The woman was a sexual vampire. Even before Damien’s death, in a car crash six months ago, she’d done her best to seduce him. As a merry widow, there would be no holds barred!

  Dominic liked his sex, but he liked it unencumbered, thank you very much. And with women who held the same views as he did. His current lady-friend was an advertising account executive whose marriage had broken up because she’d been already married to her job. Dominic saw her two or three times a week, either at her apartment after work or in a hotel room at lunchtimes, an arrangement which suited them both admirably.

  Shani was thirty-two, an attractive brunette with a trim gym-honed body. She wasn’t into endless foreplay or mindless chit-chat or sentimentality, the word ‘love’ never entering what little conversation they had. She was also fanatical when it came to her health. If ever Dominic might have been tempted to believe a woman when she said it was safe, it would have been Shani.

  But long-ingrained habits died hard, and Dominic maintained a cynical distrust of the female psyche. It would never surprise him to discover that his latest bed-partner, no matter how career-minded, had fallen victim to her infernal biological clock. In his experience, not even the most unlikely female was immune to that disease!

  Take the case of Melinda, his invaluable PA, who’d been with him for years and always said she wanted a career, not the role of wife and mother. So what happened? She’d turned thirty and in less than twelve months had married and left to have a baby. On top of that, she’d refused to come back to work, abandoning him totally for the home front.

  He’d been most put out!

  Naturally he’d had to take steps to ensure such a thing wasn’t going to become a regular occurrence, though at the time finding a replacement for Melinda had been a right pain in the neck. There’d been no question of keeping the girl on who’d filled in during Melinda’s supposedly temporary maternity leave. As efficient and sweet as Sarah was, beautiful, young, unattached females were out—a decision reinforced by what had happened when he’d taken Sarah out for a thank-you meal on the last evening of her employ.

  Dominic shuddered to think that even he could become a temporary victim of his hormones, if the circumstances were right. He’d been between women at the time, and had drunk far too much wine with his meal. When he’d taken Sarah home in a taxi and walked her to the door of her flat she’d unexpectedly started to cry. Her louse of a boyfriend, it seemed, had just the day before dumped her for some other woman.

  Dominic had only meant to comfort her, but somehow comfort had turned to something else and they’d ended up in bed together for the night. They’d both regretted it in the morning, both agreed not to mention it again.

  Sarah had gone back to her normal job as a secretary in Accounts on the floor below his, and he’d met Shani at a dinner party that very weekend.

  His new secretary, Doris, had started the following Monday morning.

  Thank God for Doris.

  Now Doris would never cause him any worries. She was fifty-four, for starters, happily married, with a healthy, undemanding husband and grown-up children who didn’t live at home. She didn’t mind working late when required, and didn’t object to making him coffee at all hours of the day. If his tendency to untidiness bothered her—and he suspected it did—she didn’t say so to his face, just quietly cleaned up after him. A woman of great common sense and tact was Doris.

  The intercom on his desk buzzed and he flicked the switch. ‘Yes, Doris?’

  ‘The others are waiting for you in the boardroom, Mr Hunter.’

  That was another thing he liked about Doris.

  She called him Mr Hunter, and not Dominic. It had a nice, respectful ring about it, and made him feel older than his thirty-three years.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m coming. Hold all calls, will you, Doris? Absolutely no interruptions. We have a lot of work to get through this afternoon.’

  The lift doors opened, and Tina steered the pram, along with the now sleeping infant, onto the twentieth floor. Straight ahead was a long glass wall with floor-to-ceiling glass doors upon which was written in gold lettering ‘Hunter & Associates—Management’.

  Beyond was another sea of black granite, dominated by a shiny black reception desk.

  Tina wondered caustically if the glossy blonde perched behind the desk had been chosen personally by Dominic Hunter himself.

  Maybe he had a penchant for blondes. She recalled Sarah saying something about the big boss being present at her second interview for Hunter & Associates, after which she’d swiftly been hired.

  Of course Sarah hadn’t just been any old blonde. Though her long fair hair had been her crowning glory, she’d been equally striking of face and figure. Her stunning looks had been a problem all her life, and hadn’t brought her any happiness. Men hadn’t been able to keep their eyes, or their hands, off.

  Poor, sweet Sarah had always believed the declarations of love which had poured forth from her current pursuer’s mouth. After she’d become a secretary working in the city, she’d been especially susceptible to the smoothly suited variety of male, especially good-looking ones with dark hair, bedroom blue eyes and a convincing line of patter to get her into the cot and keep her there without actually offering any solid commitment.

  Sarah had been a sucker for that combination every time, always believing herself in love. Once in love, Sarah had become her latest lover’s doormat, thinking that was the road to the wedding ring and the family of her own she’d always craved.

  Naturally it had never turned out that way, and Sarah had been dumped in the end. It had driven Tina mad to watch her friend being used and abused by one silver-tongued creep after another. Married, divorced or single, it hadn’t mattered. If they’d told Sarah they loved her, she’d been putty in their hands.

  Tina had tried to give solace and advice after each break-up, but her patience had worn thin over the years. She’d finally seen red when, shortly after Sarah had been promoted to the plum job of PA to Dominic Hunter, Sarah had confessed to being in love again. When pressed, she’d admitted the object of her affections was her new boss. A terrible argument had ensued. Tina had told Sarah that she’d sleep with any man if he said he loved her, and Sarah had retaliated that Tina had a heart of stone, was incapable of really loving anything or anyone but herself.

  They were the last words the two friends had said to each ot
her. That had been just over a year ago.

  And now Sarah was dead.

  Tina’s chin began to wobble. She had to swallow hard to stop herself from bursting into tears.

  ‘I won’t let you down, Sarah,’ she whispered as she gazed down at Sarah’s beautiful little baby girl. ‘Your Bonnie’s going to have everything you would have wanted for her. Every possible advantage. There will be no feeling of not being loved or wanted. No hand-me-down clothes. No leaving school at fifteen. As for Welfare and foster homes! Never! Not as long as I’ve got breath in my body!’

  Hardening herself for the fray which undoubtedly lay ahead, Tina pushed the glass door open with the pram and forged over to the desk.

  ‘I’m here to see Dominic Hunter,’ she announced firmly to the glamorous green-eyed blonde. ‘And, yes, before you ask, I do have an appointment,’ came the bald lie.

  Faint heart never won fat turkey, Tina always believed. She’d never have gained entry to the most prestigious drama school in Australia if she hadn’t been confident of her acting ability. Admittedly, she’d auditioned for three consecutive years before she’d won one of the coveted positions of entry. But that wasn’t a measure of ability, she’d always told herself. It was as hard to get into AIDA as Fort Knox!

  The blonde directed her towards a long polished corridor which led into another smaller reception area covered in plush dark blue carpet. The pram wheels immediately floundered in the thick pile, then came to a rebellious halt.

  ‘Can I help you?’ came the puzzled but cool query.

  Tina

  glanced up at the severely suited woman seated behind the now familiar shiny black desk.

  Dominic Hunter’s secretary, Tina concluded with much surprise. For the woman wasn’t blonde. Or pretty. Or young.

  Tina wondered cynically if Dominic Hunter had finally learned his lesson about mixing business and pleasure.

  ‘I’m here to see Dominic,’ she returned, just as coolly.