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Dear Genevieve,
One day you’ll be old enough to ask where I was during those early months of your life after you were taken away from me. I want you to know that you were never out of my thoughts. Every time I saw a little girl around the right age, it tore me up inside. I never stopped looking for you or gave up hope of finding you.
When I finally did, my first sight of you gave me that lump-in-the-throat feeling you get when you see a perfect sunset, or hear “Silent Night” playing. Then your tiny hand crept into mine, and the waiting was over.
Thanks to Zoe, who took such good care of you while we were apart, I’ve heard about the milestones in your small life. I only pray I can share the big ones still ahead of you. If something should happen to me, you’ll always have Zoe and the certainty that I loved you enough to find you and bring you home. Always remember you mean the world to me.
Love,
Dad
The Billionaire’s Baby Chase
Valerie Parv
VALERIE PARV
With twenty-five million copies of her books sold internationally, including many Waldenbooks bestsellers, it’s no wonder Valerie Parv is known as Australia’s queen of romance and is the recognized media spokesperson for all things romantic.
Valerie lives in Australia’s capital city of Canberra, where she is a volunteer zoo guide. She draws on this and other aspects of her life for many of her novels, having spent almost thirty-eight years happily married to her romantic hero, Paul. As she says, “Love gives you wings—romance helps you fly.”
For Margie and Tony,
my favorite parent role models.
And for Paul, always.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Prologue
Bill Margolin gave a sigh of frustration but he should have known it would have no effect on his patient who kept his back turned and his gaze on the spectacular view of the Sydney Harbor beyond the plate-glass window.
It was a shame all his patients didn’t keep themselves in such great shape, the doctor thought, watching the tall man shrug into his shirt. With what James was facing, he’d need every bit of his strength if he was to survive. Bill hated to be the bearer of bad news, but as a doctor as well as a friend he had to make James understand the risk he was taking.
A wry smile tugged at Bill’s mouth. When had anyone ever made James Langford do anything? The man was the original immovable object, a goal-seeking missile who went over or around obstacles if he could, but through them if he had to. But generally they were business obstacles. There was no way he could go around this particular problem and it was Bill’s job to convince him.
With another sigh he returned his attention to the X rays clipped to a lighted board in front of him. When they were students together there had been times when Bill would have killed to have a physique like his friend, to say nothing of James’s fabled charm with women—but now wasn’t one of those times. “You can’t put the operation off much longer,” he repeated in his most authoritative doctor-voice.
With decisive movements, James finished dressing then skewered his friend with a look of such blue-eyed intensity that it wasn’t hard to see why women flocked around him. James had a knack of giving you his full attention, which made you feel as if you were the most important person in the world at that moment.
James swung a chair around and straddled it, his fingers drumming a tattoo on the back. “You said the bullet hasn’t moved since my last scan.”
“It hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean it won’t. It’s already pressing against a nerve in your spine, which is why you’re getting these blinding headaches.”
James gave him a rueful glance, massaging his left arm as if the memory was lodged there. “And the tingling and numbness in my arm. No need to remind me.”
“If I don’t, you’ll keep putting off the operation until you keel over for good.”
James frowned. “After I got shot by that Middle Eastern fanatic who objected to foreigners working in his country, the doctors assured me operating to remove the bullet would do more harm than good.”
“But that was before it started to move. We’ve been over this already, James. Surgery is your only option. I wish there was another way but there isn’t. You have to let me schedule the operation.”
“So you can kill me a lot sooner?” It was unfair taking this out on Bill, but right now he was the only target James had. All he needed was another three months, then the doctor could do what he had to and the outcome wouldn’t matter so much.
“So you can have a fighting chance to live.” The doctor ground out the words. “I know the operation is risky, but leaving the bullet alone until it paralyzes or kills you is a whole lot riskier.”
James flattened both palms against his friend’s desk and met his concerned gaze squarely. “The bottom line, Bill. Will three months make that much difference?”
Anger flared in the doctor’s expression. “You want me to quote you the odds on your survival? I’m a doctor, not a mathematician. I can’t encourage you to risk your life so you can complete some business deal.”
James’s full mouth tightened into a grim line. “You know me better than that, Bill. This isn’t about business.”
“Then what’s so damned urgent it can’t wait until you have the surgery?”
“My daughter’s future.” He leaned over, reveling in the shock on his friend’s craggy face, a mirror of his own expression when he’d heard the news earlier today. “The investigators think they’ve located Genevieve, Bill.”
The doctor cleared his throat noisily, a sure cover for an incipient emotional outburst. “Are you sure? After eighteen months, I thought you’d given up hope of finding her.”
He should have known that giving up wasn’t in James’s vocabulary, either. “Not a chance. As soon as you told me I needed the operation, and the risk it entailed, I had the investigators step up their efforts. I have no intentions of dying on that operating table of yours without seeing my daughter again, and installing her in her rightful place as my heir.”
He didn’t add if it’s the last thing I do, because they both knew it could be. No point in laboring the obvious, James thought. Bill nodded slowly. “I see why you need your three months.”
“Do I have them?”
The doctor ran wiry fingers through his hair, which had been graying since they were at university together. “It’s a hell of a risk. I’d want to monitor your condition closely, and you’d need to guarantee to take things as easy as possible.”
“Done and done,” James assured