“What are you trying to do, Nick? About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE Copyright
“What are you trying to do, Nick?
“Take my daughter from me?” Suzannah sounded desperate.
“Make that our daughter,” he said, catching hold of her as she tried to whirl past him. “I didn’t send any letter to your father. But I know exactly what was in it. You can’t get away with any more lies.” He ignored her moan. “I have irrefutable proof Charlotte is my child. You know it I know it. Now your father knows it. Plus the person who devoted their time to exposing the truth for their own ends.”
“I’m supposed to believe that?” The breath shook in Suzannah’s throat She jerked her arm away and moved into the living room, turning to confront him.
“You believe what you want to believe,” he said harshly. “It’s a handy trick hiding from the truth. Keeping quiet. Saying nothing. Ultimately, however, the truth will out. Charlotte is my child and I’m here to claim her.”
Margaret Way takes great pleasure in her work and works hard at her pleasure. She enjoys tearing off to the beach with her family on weekends, loves haunting galleries and auctions and is completely given over to French champagne “for every possible joyous occasion.” Her home, perched high on a hill overlooking Brisbane, Australia, is her haven. She started writing when her son was a baby, and now she finds there is no better way to spend her time.
Claiming His Child
Margaret Way
CHAPTER ONE
THERE is nothing quite like the moment of premonition. The certainty out of nowhere. The mind’s acceptance. So unscientific he thought, yet he knew the instant Bebe, his secretary, breezed into his office shuffling through the pages of the latest edition of Preview, the luxury real estate magazine, what would be in it.
“Damn you, Suzannah,” he thought. “Damn you for reaching back into my life.”
“I think we’ll find what we’re looking for here, Nick,” Bebe was saying with satisfaction, her eyes still glued to the glossy full-colour pages. Bebe Marshall, forty-eight, cheerful, enthusiastic, marvellously efficient, fiercely loyal. With an invalid mother to look after she had risked making the shift with him from Ecos Solutions when he had broken away four years ago to set up his own firm of information technology consultants. Konrads. Neither he nor Bebe had ever looked back. He was a millionaire many times over, Bebe had full-time professional home care for her mother and was now rich enough not to have to pursue work at all. In fact every other member of his team, all under thirty-five, all highly qualified, all gifted, sharing his broad vision were handsomely remunerated for their unswerving loyalty and dedication to his projects. Konrads had put itself on the map initially by creating a computer program, which greatly sped up the process followed by pathologists in the analysis of genetics and DNA testing. His current project worked on by all his staff in collaboration, was the creation of a worldwide data base contributed to by medical specialists all over the world, compiling and continually upgrading information relating to all aspects of genetics including DNA testing and the classification and trends of genetic mutations. It was important all-consuming work, which would benefit not only the medical field but the legal process and the law.
His brainchild.
“Hey, what’s up?” Bebe suddenly became aware of a certain hollowness in the silence. It was quarter to eight in the morning. She had come in early herself to clean up her workload but as usual Nick was already at his work station. “Don’t you ever sleep?” She fixed him with an eye half motherly, half yearning.
“Bebe, darling, I work here. You know that. Besides I don’t need a lot of sleep. Never did.” Nevertheless he stood up and squared his wide shoulders in readiness for what was to come.
“I suppose that’s what comes of being a genuine genius.” Bebe just clucked and shook her head in wonderment. Nick Konrads was amazing. The glowing power source. The man who dominated all the rest, and there were some brilliant people on his staff. Every last one of them with a Masters degree in computer science and information technology. She blessed the day she had ever laid eyes on him, fresh from university, fabulous brain, with Groszmann from Ecos always trying to pick it. Not that Nick put up with that situation long. He had every attribute it took for outstanding success. A computer wizard, mathematician, commanding presence, an electrodynamic personality that made people follow him like a messiah, yet inspired an enormous camaraderie. Everyone at Konrads felt privileged to be there. Nick was a great boss. He involved them all in important work. He deserved his glittering career though some in the business were bitterly envious of his meteoric rise. Nick soared above it. A man with wings. And a man who worked under tremendous pressure. Which brought Bebe back to the reason why she had bought the latest edition of Preview. Nick was in need of a retreat Some beautiful quiet place he could withdraw to to relax and entertain his friends. It was she who had touted the idea, gratified and pleased when Nick had decided to go along with it.
“So tell me,” he now invited, walking to the window wall with its spectacular views over Sydney and its magnificent glittering blue harbour. “Just what properties are you going to show me?” He spoke casually, even teasingly. He was fond of Bebe, but his mind and body were resonating with memories. Memories down the years from when he was a boy of ten and his immigrant mother and father had gone to live in the peaceful and prosperous country town of Ashbury in northern New South Wales. He himself had been born in Vienna of a German father and a Czech mother but his parents had brought him to Australia at the age of five. A new Australian they were then called. His father had been ill even then, both parents political refugees, though it had taken him a long time to find that out. Australia was the other side of the world. A country of great political and social stability. The only continent on earth that had never experienced the terrible bloodshed and upheaval of war on its own soil.
“Say, what’s wrong with you this morning?” Bebe was soaking up the mood with an antenna of her own. “You don’t seem to be listening at all.”
“I am. I promise.” He turned his head to smile at her, the flash of his beautiful even teeth breaking up the smouldering dark austerity of his handsome features. He was commandingly tall so Bebe, not short herself, had to tilt her head to look up to him, surprising something like pain, could it be grief, in his brilliant near-black eyes. Nick was a hundred times more complex than even she knew. A man who kept a lot inside himself.
“Well.” She smiled, suddenly wanting to hug him. “I know I’m prattling on and you’ve probably been up most of the night but there are three properties I think you should take a look at. I’ve