She’d wanted to tell him.
But she decided there was no point telling him before the child was born, and then decided to wait until Ethan was sleeping through the night so she had a clear head, and then … The longer she left it, the harder it became.
‘Pack your bags.’ Max surged from his chair, strode back to the window. ‘My son will know me. He’ll grow up with his father. I’m seeing to that today.’
Gillian gripped the table as though that could anchor her. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying.’
‘I’m saying,’ he said quietly, ‘that we’re getting married.’
Dear Reader,
I love continuity series—six or so individually terrific books linked so that one teases you for the next, and the next lets you revisit the characters you grew to know and love in the previous one.
This is the first continuity book I’ve had the pleasure of writing and it’s been a fabulous experience working with the authors who’ve written the other five books. I’m really looking forward to reading all of the stories to see how everything finally plays out.
As for Max and Gillian, whose story this is, it was fun getting to know them. Gillian tried so hard to make best decisions for the best reasons, even if that reasoning was one Max vehemently disagreed with. And as for Max—a man used to being in absolute control of his life—he never expected a family of his own. Even less did he expect to fall so hard and so completely for Gillian.
Sometimes having our expectations thwarted is the perfect solution.
Enjoy!
Sandra
About the Author
After completing a business degree, travelling and then settling into a career in marketing, SANDRA HYATT was relieved to experience one of life’s eureka! moments while on maternity leave—she discovered that writing books, although a lot slower, was just as much fun as reading them. She knows life doesn’t always hand out happy endings and figures that’s why books ought to. She loves being along for the journey with her characters as they work around, over and through the obstacles standing in their way. Sandra has lived in both the US and England and currently lives near the coast in New Zealand with her high school sweetheart and their two children. You can visit her at www.sandrahyatt.com.
Don’t miss a single book in this series!
The Takeover
For better, for worse. For business, for pleasure.
These tycoons have vowed to have it all!
Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress by Day Leclaire
Seduced: The Unexpected Virgin by Emily McKay
Revealed: His Secret Child by Sandra Hyatt
Bought: His Temporary Fiancée by Yvonne Lindsay
Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire by Michelle Celmer
Acquired: The CEO’s Small-Town Bride by Catherine Mann
Revealed:
His Secret Child
Sandra Hyatt
One
This time she’d gone too far.
Max Preston looked from the newspaper spread before him to the glittering sea beyond the window and made up his mind. This time he wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to ignore his calls. To ignore him.
His chair scraped across the parquet flooring of the Beach and Tennis Club’s breakfast restaurant as he stood from his table. Leaving a tip for his waitress and his just delivered omelet untouched, he took one last sip of his coffee and left.
So much for the first Saturday off he’d had in months.
He hadn’t known he was going to fill his morning. He did now.
A search on his phone as he strode to his car turned up her address. Tossing the parochial, two-bit rag she worked for—the proverbial thorn in his side—onto the passenger seat, he slid into his seat and eased the Maserati out of the club’s parking lot.
The first time he’d seen Gillian Mitchell’s picture and byline in the Seaside Gazette and realized that she was here in Vista del Mar, he’d felt an unexpected surge of pleasure and triumph, like when he found something he didn’t realize he’d lost and was missing. A hundred-dollar bill in his coat pocket—but better.
It only took the seconds he’d needed to read her first biting paragraph for those feelings to vaporize.
Since that moment, he’d been trying to view her presence here and her articles with purely professional detachment.
Clearly, she wasn’t doing the same. Her attacks on Cameron Enterprises and, in particular, Max’s boss, Rafe Cameron, might, to the uninformed reader, appear objective, but they were personal and directed at Max. He was sure of it.
On the seat beside him, her opinion piece lay face-up. At the first set of lights he flipped the paper over so that he didn’t have to see the one-sided article that constituted her opinion.
A call came through on his cell. “Max speaking,” he said into his earpiece.
“Have you seen it?” Rafe wasted no words.
“I’m dealing with it.” As head of PR for Cameron Enterprises it was Max’s job to smooth the waters, to make sure the people of Vista Del Mar saw Rafe’s takeover of Worth Industries—a microchip manufacturer and one of the town’s biggest employers—in the best possible light.
And Gillian, it seemed, was doing everything in her power to achieve the opposite result.
“Is it libel?” Rafe asked.
“It’s close. I’m on my way to see her now. I’ll let her know how seriously we’re taking this. That our lawyers will be examining this piece as well as every word she’s written to date, and every word she will write in the future on anything related to this subject.”
“Good.” Rafe rang off.
At one time, Max had nothing but the highest respect for Gillian’s doggedness. But when she started making his boss the repeated target of her campaign, that doggedness looked a lot more like intransigence and plain old sour grapes.
Because she and Max had history.
But the way he remembered it, it had been good history. And it had ended cleanly. Six months into their relationship, when she’d casually dropped the words children and marriage into a conversation, he’d known he had to end it. It was only fair. He didn’t do marriage and kids, they hadn’t been in his plans. Still weren’t. And till that moment he hadn’t thought they’d been in hers.
So he’d broken it off with her. On the spot. It was the only honest thing to do. And he’d thought she’d taken it well. There had been no drama. She’d calmly agreed with him that they clearly had different needs from a relationship, and walked away without so much as a backward glance.
He hadn’t heard from her or of her in the three and a half years since then. Till these opinion pieces and her supposed factual, objective articles. So now he was thinking maybe she hadn’t taken it well. Maybe she had merely bided her time till the opportunity to strike back arose.
The ten-minute