law firm and walked into the reception area of the one-story, salmon-colored stucco building. He met the eyes of the middle-aged woman sporting a ’60s beehive hairstyle, sitting at a desk behind a closed glass partition. She slid it open with his approach. His first impression was correct: the town and its inhabitants were stuck in time.
“May I help you, sir?”
Giles flashed a friendly smile. “I’m Giles Wainwright, and I have an appointment at eleven to meet with Mr. McAvoy.”
She returned his smile. “Well, good morning, Mr. Wainwright. Please have a seat and I’ll have someone escort you to the conference room.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Giles did not bother to sit on the leather sofa, but stood with both hands clasped behind his back. He had sat enough that morning. First it was in the car heading for the airport, then all through the flight and again during the drive from the airport to Wickham Falls. He had altered his normal morning routine of taking the elevator in his high-rise apartment building to the lower level to swim laps in the Olympic-size pool.
Swimming and working out helped him to relax, while maintaining peak physical conditioning from his time in the military. Going from active duty to spending most of his day sitting behind a desk had been akin to culture shock for Giles, and it had taken him more than a year to fully adjust to life as a civilian.
“Mr. Wainwright?”
He turned when he recognized the voice of the woman who’d called him. “Ms. Campos.”
The petite, dark-haired woman with a short, pixie hairstyle extended her hand. “Yes.”
Giles took her hand and was slightly taken aback when he noticed a small tattoo with USMC on the underside of her wrist. He successfully concealed a smile. It was apparent she had been in the Marine Corps. “Semper fi,” he said sotto voce.
Nicole Campos smiled. “Are you in the Corps?”
He shook his head. “I proudly served for ten years.”
“I was active duty for fifteen years, and once I got out I decided to go to law school. I’d love to chat with you, Mr. Wainwright, but you’re needed in the conference room.”
Giles always looked forward to swapping stories with fellow marines, yet that was not a priority this morning. He followed her down a carpeted hallway to a room at the end of the hall.
His gaze was drawn to a woman holding a raven-haired baby girl. Light from wall sconces reflected off the tiny diamond studs in the infant’s ears. The fretful child squirmed, whined and twisted backward as she struggled to escape her mother’s arms.
He smiled, and much to his surprise, the baby went completely still and stared directly at him with a pair of large round blue eyes. She yawned and he was able to see the hint of two tiny rice-like teeth poking up through her gums. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from the baby girl. There was something about her eyes that reminded him of someone.
His attention shifted from the baby to the man seated at the head of the conference table. His premature white hair was totally incongruent to his smooth, youthful-looking face.
Giles smiled and nodded. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. I’m Preston McAvoy. Please excuse me for not getting up, Mr. Wainwright, but I’m still recovering from dislocating my knee playing football with my sons.” He motioned to a chair opposite the woman with the baby. “Please sit down.”
Giles complied, his eyes meeting those of the woman staring at him with a pair of incredibly beautiful hazel eyes in a tawny-gold complexion. He wondered if she knew she looked like a regal lioness with the mane of flowing brown curls with gold highlights framing her face and ending inches above her shoulders. A slight frown appeared between her eyes as she continued to stare at him. He wondered if she had seen him during his travels in the Bahamas, while Giles knew for certain he had never met her because she was someone he would never forget; she was breathtakingly beautiful.
Preston cleared his throat and opened the file folder on the table. He looked at Giles and then the baby’s mother. “I’m sorry when my assistant called to ask you to come in that she was bound by law not to tell you why you’d been summoned.” He removed an envelope from the folder and withdrew a single sheet of paper. His dark eyes studied each person at the table. “This is a codicil to Samantha Madison Lawson’s last will and testament.”
Giles went completely still. The name conjured up the image of a woman from his past who had disappeared without a trace. Now it was obvious he had not come to West Virginia for an update about a fellow soldier, but for a woman with whom he’d had an off-and-on liaison that went on for more than a year.
“Ms. Lawson, before she passed away,” Preston continued, “made provisions for her unborn child, hence named Lily Hope Lawson, to become the legal ward of her sister, Mya Gabrielle Lawson. Ms. Lawson, being of sound mind and body, instructed me not to reveal the contents of her codicil until a month following her death.” He paused and then continued to read from the single page of type.
Giles, a former marine captain who had led men under his command into battles where they faced the possibility of serious injury or even death, could not still his momentary panic. A tense silence swelled inside the room when Preston finished reading.
He was a father! The woman sitting across the table was holding his daughter. He had no legal claim to the child, but his daughter’s mother sought fit to grant him visitation. That he could see Lily for school and holiday weekends, Thanksgiving, Christmas and one month during the summer, while all visitations would have to be approved by Mya Gabrielle Lawson.
Giles slowly shook his head. “That’s not happening.” The three words were dripping with venom.
“What’s not happening?” Preston questioned.
“No one is going to tell me when and where I can see my daughter.”
“You’ve just been told.” The woman holding the child had spoken for the first time.
Mya was certain the rapid pumping of her heart against her ribs could be heard by the others in the room. She hadn’t been able to move or utter a sound when the tall, black-haired man with piercing blue eyes in a suntanned face walked into the conference room. It had only taken a single glance for her to ascertain that the man was Sammie’s ex-lover and Lily’s father. He continued to glare at her in what was certainly a stare down. However, she was beyond intimidation because legally he had no claim over her daughter.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Giles countered in a low and threatening tone. “As Lily’s biological father, I can sue for joint custody.”
“If you do, then you will surely lose,” Mya countered.
Preston cleared his throat. “I’m afraid Ms. Lawson’s right, Mr. Wainwright. Legally, you have no right to the child. But look on the bright side, because it was the baby’s mother’s wish before she passed away that you could have a relationship with your daughter.”
Giles’s eyes burned like lasers when he turned to glare at Preston. “You fail to understand that a woman carried my child and neglected to notify me about it. Even though she’s gone, you’re allowing her to become the master puppeteer pulling strings and manipulating lives from the grave?”
Preston shrugged shoulders under a crisp white shirt. “Ms. Samantha Lawson must have had a reason for not informing you about the baby. I’m going to leave you and Mya alone, and I suggest you work out an arrangement that you both can agree on. Please keep in mind it’s what’s best for the baby.” Reaching for a cane, Preston rose to his feet and limped out of the office.
Lily began squirming again, and Mya knew it was time to feed her and then put her to bed. “We’re going to have to put off this