Nicola Marsh

Inherited: Baby


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when he’d been the one person to stand by her the last few days, tears of guilt that a confrontation with Riley could make her cry when she’d been dry-eyed over Joe’s death.

      Riley took a sip of coffee, his steady regard never leaving her. Even in the face of her rudeness, he didn’t flinch or fire back.

      ‘Fine, but Chas is my nephew and I’d like to play a part in his life.’

      His calm words embarrassed her, made her feel like a petulant child. ‘Why now? You’ve never shown any interest before.’

      Her barb hit home if the faint pink staining his high cheekbones was any indication. However, he still didn’t falter or lose his cool and she had a silly urge to push him, to punish him for being so calm in the face of her offensiveness.

      ‘Besides, how do you think you’re going to do that? You said business keeps you busy.’

      ‘I can offer you financial support,’ he said, draining his coffee and rinsing the mug while she glared at his back, irrationally noting the perfect fit of his designer business shirt stretched across his shoulders.

      Money. He was offering money.

      She should’ve known.

      The Bourkes had been born with a silver spoon in their well-fed mouths, had never known a day’s hunger or the desperate, clawing empty feeling of knowing there was no money to buy food for the next week. The yearning for an ice cream cone or the craving for new shoes so that you could be like the other kids.

      Uh-uh, guys like Joe and Riley had no idea what it was like to be poor.

      Chas needed love and affection and the presence of a stable male influence in his young life—three things she would’ve killed for when growing up.

      Instead, Riley was offering money. Cold, hard cash to go along with his cold, hard heart. Just like his brother.

      ‘You didn’t answer my earlier question. Why the sudden interest in Chas now?’

      She kept her voice steady with effort. She couldn’t let him see how rattled she was by his offer of money, how cheap it made her feel.

      ‘I want to do everything I can for my nephew. He had Joe in the past but Joe’s not here any more.’

      Riley glanced away as if he was hiding something but she was too drained to fathom his motives. ‘Besides, if I’m not around a lot, you can use the money to buy him things, keep him occupied, raise him the way Joe would’ve wanted.’

      Her eyes narrowed as exhaustion battled with anger, fatigue with confusion. ‘Which way is that? Like a Bourke, you mean?’

      Rich, pampered, spoiled? Joe had hardly looked at Chas since his birth and, as for Riley marching in here like some do-gooder bestowing benevolence on a charity case, she had news for him.

      ‘Well, yes,’he said, thrusting his hands in his pockets as if reaching for a cheque book there and then.

      Suddenly, a sinister thought flashed through her head. What if Riley’s newfound interest in Chas was because he wanted to take her precious son away? He had the money, the connections and the power. Perhaps this whole thing tonight was about buying her off, trying to see how she’d react?

      Maybe it was her suspicions, the soul-destroying fatigue of the day, the drama of the last week or the simmering guilt about Joe’s death but whatever pushed her buttons, she drew back her shoulders and tilted her head up.

      ‘You know what you can do with your financial support?’

      He didn’t move—more of that annoying pity in his eyes, the final flame to her kindling temper.

      ‘See this?’ She tugged on the hem of his soft, expensive cashmere jumper. ‘You can take your offer and stuff it up there.’

      For a moment, she saw something that didn’t look like pity on his face. Maya turned away before she did something even more out of character—like shove him out the door.

      ‘Look, I’ve made a mess of this—’

      ‘Just go,’ she said, stalking from the kitchen, trying to look as dignified as a fluffy pink robe and matching slippers with Princess embroidered in silver spangles would allow.

      ‘Maya, I—’

      ‘Go!’

      She stormed into her bedroom, several seconds passing before the soft click of the front door and the ensuing silence signalled Riley’s welcome departure. Sighing, she closed her eyes and sank on to the bed.

      She’d had enough of Bourke men to last her a lifetime.

      CHAPTER THREE

      RILEY STRODE DOWN the long corridor to his office, grunting responses to anyone brave enough to greet him. He refused to make eye contact with his staff, knowing the first unfortunate person to do so would cop an unnecessary barrage.

      To say he was in a bad mood was like saying Melbourne was the sports capital of Australia—the understatement of the year.

      ‘Good, you’re here,’ he said, sending a brief nod at Matt Byrne as he stomped into his office, dropping his briefcase next to his desk and flinging his coat on the back of his leather chair.

      ‘Good morning to you too,’ Matt said, sliding the papers he’d been reading into a folder and taking a sip from a take-out coffee cup. ‘There’s an espresso for you. Though by the look on your face, maybe I should’ve dumped a ton of sugar into it. You look like you could use a bit of sweetening up.’

      Riley ignored him, took a huge comforting swallow of lukewarm coffee and grimaced.

      ‘That bad, huh?’

      ‘Not the coffee; that’s fine. It’s my disposition that’s the problem.’

      ‘Disposition? A big word for this time of the morning.’ Matt smiled, his customary wry grin indicating he had all the patience in the world to hear what one of his biggest clients had to say.

      Riley genuinely liked Matt, appreciated his wisdom, and he’d used him as a sounding board on several occasions—though he often wondered if the lawyer would be as generous with his time if he wasn’t on such a huge retainer. Probably not, but Riley didn’t need to think about that right now. He was in a bad enough mood as it was, no use fuelling it.

      ‘Don’t push your luck, Byrne.’

      Matt’s smile broadened but Riley saw the flicker of concern in the other man’s eyes. ‘I’ve never seen you like this. Focused on business, yeah. Cool in a crisis, yeah. Level-headed, driven, serious, yeah. Sour face, uh-uh. So what’s up?’

      I botched up with Maya. Big time.

      Even now, twelve hours later, he cringed, wondering how he’d made such a mess of things. Stopping by the apartment had been a spur of the moment impulse and he’d driven around the block three times before deciding a quick pop-in to check on her and Chas wouldn’t be inappropriate.

      And he’d been damned glad he had when she’d opened the door, huge green eyes standing out in her pale face, eyes ringed by dark circles of fatigue, her lush mouth drooping at the corners. She’d looked so helpless, so exhausted, a woman on the edge.

      Not that he’d helped. He’d blundered around, firing questions at her, not articulating half of what he wanted and alienating her in the process. Before he’d really put his foot in it and she’d told him to stick his support up his jumper, booting him out the door faster than he could say, Hear me out.

      ‘Earth to Riley? I said what’s up?’

      Riley shook his head and stuck a finger between his shirt collar and neck, loosening his tie knot and resisting the urge to rip it off completely.

      ‘I went to see Maya and Chas last night. It didn’t go so well.’

      ‘How