Baby Secret, Book #5

• Marriage of Convenience
• Boss Romance
• Alpha Male
• Steamy Romance

They both have sinful secrets…delicious, passionate, tantalizing surprises that will keep you guessing—and smiling—until the very end.

Five years ago, Damien Hawke utterly destroyed Sable Jameson’s life. When ruthless tycoon, Damien Hawke, sweeps back into Sable’s life, he’s come to claim it all. Her. The business she inherited. And the child he discovers she’s kept from him. But there’s one secret he’s still hiding. And until Sable uncovers it, she’ll never win what matters most to her—Damien’s heart.

Note to Readers: Baby Secret is Book #5 of 6 in the Baby, Oh Baby! Series, a contemporary romance series by USA Today bestselling author and eleven-time RITA© (Romance Writers of America) finalist, Day Leclaire. This story features a hot, take-charge alpha hero and the perfect woman for him, and a sizzling romance between soul mates.

He’d done it. He had her. And soon—very soon—Sable Jameson Caldwell would know it.

Damien Hawke dropped into the over-stuffed white chair behind the huge, pretentious desk, a grim smile playing about his mouth. The contract, signed and executed, lay before him on the frosted glass tabletop. He wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t savored his moment of triumph. Savored the knowledge that after five long years he had Sable at his mercy. But it wasn’t enough, he acknowledged. He didn’t want her construction business. Or rather, her late husband’s construction business. He wanted her.

And this time she wouldn’t escape.

A small sound from the far side of the white and crimson office caught Damien’s attention and he lifted his head. “Have the arrangements been made, Lute?” he asked.

In response to the question, a huge man slipped silently from the shadows, his bald head gleaming in the subdued light. In the not-so distant past, Lute’s position would have been called many things. Valet, manservant, gentleman’s gentleman. Damien simply called him friend.
“The movers will be here tonight to strip the room and deliver the furnishings to Miss Patricia.”

“Excellent.”

Damien stood and strode around the pedestaled desk, his shoes sinking into the blood-red carpeting. A large leopard skin floor covering blocked his path and he kicked the pelt to one side with the toe of his shoe. His gaze shifted over the exotic animal heads mounted on the harsh white walls and a flicker of distaste touched his stern features at the blatant obscenity. Every one of them was on the endangered species list.

“She will want her dead animals returned, yes?” Lute questioned.

“Knowing Patricia, I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

Lute sighed. “She dishonors her brother’s memory and betrays her sister-in-law by selling her share of the family business but keeps her gaudy bits and pieces. Strange woman.”

Damien shrugged. He couldn’t care less about Patricia Caldwell. Not anymore. She’d served her purpose by giving him what he wanted most—forty percent of Caldwell’s stock. It was the same percentage as Sable controlled. “Money is Patricia’s god. It always has been.”
Blackness settled on Lute’s face. He smoothed his thumb and index finger across his white moustache and down to the narrow beard that framed his chin. It was a familiar gesture, a gesture that betrayed an inner turmoil. Damien folded his arms across his chest and waited for his friend to speak his piece.

“Money is a demanding god. A deadly god,” Lute said, before adding softly, “But then, so is revenge.”

Damien’s mouth tightened. He hadn’t chosen the path he walked blindly. He’d taken every step with great deliberation. “I want this room sanitized.” He spoke harshly, but Lute didn’t flinch. Only one other person could confront Damien’s anger with equanimity, with a soothing touch that calmed even the most savage beast. And he rarely spoke her name. “I don’t want one trace of cigarette smoke or that cloying perfume Patricia drenches herself in to remain.”

Lute inclined his head. “It will be done. By Monday morning the office will be yours.” He turned to go.

“Have you seen her, Lute?” The question was torn from Damien, unexpected and unwelcome. They both knew of whom he spoke.

Sable.

“Yes.” The acknowledgement sounded hesitant, regretful. “I have seen her.”

Damien tensed. “And?”

“She looks much the same. Thinner, perhaps.”

“That’s all?”

Lute turned around, his reluctance unmistakable. “There were . . . shadows. Much sadness,” he admitted. His snowy brows drew together over soft blue eyes that could appear as old as time or as guileless as a baby’s. “And more sadness to come, yes?”

Again Damien shrugged. “That’s up to her. If she sells her shares of Caldwell’s to me as Patricia did, she can walk away a wealthy woman. If she chooses to fight me . . .” His odd green eyes glittered with ruthless intent. “Then I’ll break her.”

“She will fight you,” Lute said, and without another word, left the room.

Damien stood motionless for a moment, his thoughtful gaze settling on the door that connected this office—his office—with the adjoining one. He didn’t hesitate. He crossed to the door. The handle turned easily beneath his hand, the heavy oak panel swinging silently open. A single light, probably left on by the cleaning crew, shone from the desk by the windows. He walked into the room, leaving behind the hellish opulence that so suited Patricia for a soothing warmth guaranteed to assuage even the most tortured soul, stepping from harsh gold and crimson excess to the soft, mellow rose and yellow of Eden’s garden.

Moonlight filtered through the tinted floor-to-ceiling windows, gilding the room with silver, and he closed the connecting door, shutting out the stink of musk and stale tobacco. Leave it to Patricia to flout the city’s no-smoking laws. In sharp contrast, the air in Sable’s office was sweet and smelled of her. He inhaled deeply, dragging the clean, fresh scent of her into his lungs.

And he remembered. Remembered their time together, their passion, their desperate need, their oneness, along with her betrayal. He remembered that most of all.
For it wasn’t a betrayal he’d easily forget—or forgive—a fact Sable would soon learn.