“Hello, gorgeous.”
An attractive blush suffused Amanda’s fair complexion with the compliment. Giles had been truthful. His mother’s stunning beauty hadn’t faded at sixty-four. It was her tall, slender figure, delicate features, coal-black hair and vibrant violet-blue eyes that had attracted Patrick Wainwright II, who married her after a whirlwind courtship; a year later, they had welcomed their first child.
Amanda rested a hand on Giles’s light stubble. “You are definitely your father’s son. You always know what to say to make a woman feel good.”
Giles kissed her forehead. “You have to know by now that I never lie.” He threaded their fingers together and led her through the foyer and into the expansive living-dining area.
She pointed to the dining area table set for two. “You cooked?”
He seated his mother on a love seat and dropped down next to her. “Surely you jest,” he said, smiling. His many attempts to put together a palatable meal had resulted in either over-or undercooked dishes that always ended up in the garbage. In the end, he preferred eating in or ordering from his favorite restaurants or gourmet shops.
“I ordered from Felidia. It should be here in about twenty minutes.”
Amanda gave Giles a long stare. “Why did you order in? You know I love eating there because the place reminds me of a little ristorante Pat and I discovered when we were in Bologna.”
“I decided we’d eat in because I need to talk to you about something.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to rejoin the military.”
Giles dropped an arm over his mother’s shoulders and hugged her. “No. What I want to tell you shouldn’t be disclosed in public.”
Amanda’s eyelids fluttered as the natural color drained from her face. She rested a hand over the pearls. “Please don’t tell me something that’s going to hurt my heart.”
He shook his head. “It’s something you claim you’ve been wishing for. You now have a granddaughter.”
Giles knew he had shocked his mother when her hands trembled, but then she quickly recovered and cried tears of joy. Waiting until she was calmer, he told her everything he’d disclosed to Jordan. He left out the fact that he wanted his cousin to conduct a background check into the lives of his daughter’s mother and adoptive mother.
Amanda sniffled as she opened her handbag and took out several tissues. “What are you going to do?” she asked, after blowing her nose.
“I’m going to take the legal route to claim my daughter.”
“You claim you have visitation, so when can we expect to meet her?”
Giles recalled the designated holidays outlined in the codicil. “It probably won’t be until Thanksgiving.”
A crestfallen expression crossed Amanda’s face. “That’s more than two months from now.”
“I know, Mom. I’m hoping to convince Mya to bring her before then.”
“Who else knows about this?”
“Just you and Jordan,” he admitted.
Amanda rested her head on her son’s shoulder. “I’d rather not say anything to Pat right now, because he’s probably going to go ballistic and go after this poor girl who had no idea what her sister was planning.”
Giles pressed a kiss to his mother’s hair. “You’re right.” There was nothing his father liked better than a legal brouhaha. “Then this will remain between you, me and Jordan for now.” The chiming of the building’s intercom reverberated through the apartment. “That’s probably our dinner.”
He answered the intercom. The doorman announced a delivery from Felidia. “Please send them up.”
Two hours later, Giles escorted his mother to the street, waited for her to get into a taxi and stood on the curb watching as it disappeared from his line of vision.
It was as if he could exhale for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. Talking to his mother, and her decision not to tell her husband temporarily assuaged his angst over attempting to explain the circumstances of him becoming a father.
Giles shook his head to rid his thoughts of the possible scenarios Patrick could employ to make Lily a Wainwright, because he intended to use his own methods to get what he wanted. If he was able to get a judge to rule in his favor to grant him joint custody, then he would happily comply with the law to share his daughter with Mya.
The sidewalks were teeming with locals and tourists in sweaters and lightweight jackets to ward off the early autumn chill. Giles, not wanting to return to his apartment, walked along Second Avenue to Forty-Second Street, stopping at intervals to do some window-shopping before reversing direction and heading back uptown. The walk had been the antidote to release some of his anxiety about reuniting with Mya and hopefully agreeing to what was best for Lily.
The night doorman stood under the building’s canopy. “Have a good evening, Mr. Wainwright.”
Giles nodded and smiled. “You do the same, Raoul.”
During the elevator ride to his floor, Giles mentally mapped out what he had to accomplish before returning to Wickham Falls. He knew it was time for him to give Jocelyn more responsibility if he was going to be away for any appreciable length of time. And that meant she would have to accompany him during his next trip to the Bahamas.
* * *
Mya sat on the porch, bouncing Lily on her lap. Giles had called to inform her he was in Wickham Falls and for her to expect him to arrive at her house before one that afternoon.
It had been three weeks since their initial meeting, and she had resigned herself to accept him as Lily’s father. If Sammie hadn’t wanted her daughter to have a relationship with her father, then she never would’ve added the codicil.
She had gotten up earlier that morning to put up several loads of laundry, give Lily breakfast and followed with a bath. After dressing her, she spent fifteen minutes reciting nursery rhymes. Mya knew Lily was more than familiar with many of the words and would be able to repeat them once she began talking.
Her daughter had become quite a chatterbox when she babbled about things Mya pretended to understand, while their favorite games were patty-cake and ring around the rosy. Now that Lily was standing up while holding on, Mya would gently pull her down to the floor when she sang the line “they all fall down” in “Ring Around the Rosie.”
Mya went completely still when she registered the sound of an approaching car. The vehicle maneuvering up the driveway wasn’t a town car but an SUV with New York plates. And as it came closer, she noticed a car seat.
Mya held her breath when Giles got out and waved to her. He looked nothing like the well-dressed man who had questioned her late sister’s decision not to grant him custody of their daughter. Relaxed jeans, a sweatshirt with a fading USMC logo and running shoes had replaced the business attire.
She rose stiffly, as if pulled up by a taut overhead wire, and waited for his approach. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble afforded him an even more masculine quality.
At first, she had asked herself why her sister had put up with him, but seeing him like this, Mya realized Giles Wainwright was not a man most women could ignore at first glance. Piercing blue eyes and balanced features made for an arresting face. He was tall, several inches above six feet, broad-shouldered and appeared in peak physical condition.
Giles