His Accidental Heir

Two

As much as Maresa cursed her alarm clock chirping at her before dawn, she never regretted waking up early once she was on the Carib Grand’s private beach before sunrise. Her mother’s house was perched on a street high above Saint Thomas Harbor, which meant Maresa took a bike to the ferry each morning to get to the hotel property early for these two precious hours of alone time before work. Her brother was comfortable walking down to the dock later for his shift, a task that was overseen by a neighbor and fellow employee who also took the ferry over each day.

Now, rolling out her yoga mat on the damp sand, she made herself comfortable in child’s pose, letting the magic of the sea and the surf do their work on her muscles tight with stress.

One. Two. Three. Breathe.

Smoothing her hands over the soft cotton of her bright pink crop top, she felt her diaphragm lift and expand. She rarely saw anyone else on the beach at this hour, and the few runners or walkers who passed by were too busy soaking up the same quiet moments as she to pay her any mind.

Maresa counted through the inhales and exhales, trying her damnedest to let go of her worries. Too bad Cameron Holmes’s ice-blue eyes and sculpted features kept appearing in her mind, distracting her with memories of that electric current she’d experienced just looking at him.

It made no sense, she lectured herself as she swapped positions for her sun salutations. The guest was demanding and borderline rude—something that shouldn’t attract her in the slightest. She hated to think his raw masculinity was sliding under her radar despite what her brain knew about him.

At least she’d made it through the first day of his stay without incident. But while that was something to celebrate, she didn’t want her brother crossing paths with the surly guest again. She’d held her breath yesterday when the two passed one another in the corridor outside the Antilles Suite, knowing how much Rafe loved dogs. Thankfully, her brother had been engrossed in his music and hadn’t noticed the Maltese.

She’d keep Rafe safely away from Mr. Holmes for the next two weeks. Tilting her face to the soft glow of first light, she arched her back in the upward salute before sweeping down into a forward bend. Breathing out the challenges—living in tight quarters with her family, battling local agencies to get her brother into support programs he needed for his recovery, avoiding her former fiancé who’d texted her twice in the last twenty-four hours asking to see her—Maresa took comfort in this moment every day.

Shifting into her lunge as the sun peeked above the horizon, Maresa heard a dog bark before a small white ball of fluff careened past her toward the water. Startled by the sudden brush of fur against her arm, she had to reposition her hands to maintain her balance.

“Poppy.” A man’s voice sounded from somewhere in the woods behind the beach.

Cameron Holmes.

Maresa recognized the deep baritone, not by sound so much as by the effect it had on her. A slow, warm wave through the pit of her belly. What was the matter with her? She scrambled to her feet, realizing the pampered pet of her most difficult guest was charging into the Caribbean, happily chasing a tern.

“Poppy!” she called after the dog just as Cameron Holmes stepped onto the beach.

Shirtless.

She had to swallow hard before she lifted her fingers to her lips and whistled. The little Maltese stopped in the surf, peering back in search of the noise while the tern flew away up the shore. The ends of Poppy’s glossy coat floated on the surface of the incoming tide.

The man charged toward his pet, his bare feet leaving wet footprints in the sand. Maresa was grateful for the moment to indulge her curiosity about him without his seeing her. A pair of bright board shorts rode low on his hips. The fiery glow of sunrise burnished his skin to a deeper tan, his square shoulders rolling with an easy grace as he scooped the animal out of the water and into his arms. He spoke softly to her even as the strands of long, wet fur clung to his side. Whatever he said earned him a heartfelt lick on the cheek from the pooch, its white tail wagging slowly.

Maresa’s heart melted a little. Especially when she caught a glimpse of Cameron Holmes’s smile as he turned back toward her. For a moment, he looked like another man entirely.

Then, catching sight of her standing beside her yoga mat, his expression grew shuttered.

“Sorry to interrupt your morning.” He gave a brief nod. Curt. Dismissive. “I thought the beach would be empty at this hour or I wouldn’t have let her off the leash.” He clipped a length of pink leather to the collar around Poppy’s neck.

“Most days, I’m the only one down here at this time.” She forced a politeness she didn’t feel, especially when she wasn’t on duty yet. “Would you like a towel for her?”

The animal wasn’t shivering, but Maresa couldn’t imagine it would be easy to groom the dog if she walked home with wet fur dragging on the ground.

“I didn’t think to bring one with me.” He frowned, glancing around the deserted beach as if one might appear. “I assumed towels would be provided.”

She tried not to grind her teeth at the air of entitlement. It became far easier to ignore the appeal of his shirtless chest once he started speaking in that superior air.

“Towels are available when the beach cabana opens at eight.” Bending to retrieve the duffel on the corner of her mat, she tugged out hers and handed it to him. “Poppy can have mine.”

He hesitated.

She fought the urge to cram the terry cloth back in her bag and stomp off. But, of course, she couldn’t do that. She reached toward the pup’s neck and scratched her there instead. Poppy’s heart-shaped collar jangled softly against Maresa’s hand. She noticed the “If Found” name on the back.

Olivia Trager?

Maybe the animal belonged to a girlfriend.

“Thank you.” He took the hand towel and tucked it around the dog. Poppy stared out of her wrap as if used to being swaddled. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

He sounded more sincere this time. Maresa glanced up at him, only to realize how close they were standing. His gaze roamed over her as if he had been taking advantage of an unseen moment, the same way she had ogled him earlier. Becoming aware of her skimpy yoga crop top and the heat of awareness warming her skin, she stepped back awkwardly.

“Ms. Trager must really trust you with her dog.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Then again, maybe hearing about his girlfriend would stop these wayward thoughts about him. “That is, no wonder you want to take such good care of her.”

Awkward much? Maresa cursed herself for sticking her nose in his personal business.

His expression remained inscrutable for a moment. He studied her as if weighing how much to share. “My mother wouldn’t trust anyone but me with her dog,” he said finally.

She considered his words, still half wishing the mystery Ms. Trager was a girlfriend on her way to the resort today. Then Maresa would have to take a giant mental step backward from the confusing hotel guest. As it stood, she had no one to save her from the attraction but herself. With that in mind, she raked up her yoga mat and started rolling it.

“Well, I hope the dog walker and groomer meet your criteria.” She stuffed the mat in her duffel, wondering why he hadn’t let the walker take the animal out in the first place. “I’m happy to find someone else if—”

“The walker is fine. You’re doing an excellent job, Maresa.”

The unexpected praise caught her off guard. She nearly dropped her bag, mostly because he fixed her with his clear blue gaze. Heat rushed through her again, and it didn’t have anything to do with the sun bathing them in the morning light now that it was fully risen.

“Thank you.” Her throat went dry. She backed up a step. Retreating. “I’m going to let you enjoy the beach.”

Maresa turned toward the path through the thick undergrowth that led back to the hotel and nearly ran right into Jaden Torries, her ex-fiancé.

“Whoa!” Jaden’s one hand reached to steady her, his other curved protectively around a pink bundle he carried. Tall and rangy, her artist ex-boyfriend was thin where Cameron was well-muscled. The round glasses Jaden wore for affectation and not because he needed them were jammed into the thick curls that reached his shoulders. “Maresa. I’ve been trying to contact you.”

He released her, juggling his hold on the small pink parcel he carried. A parcel that wriggled?

“I’ve been busy.” She wanted to pivot away from the man who’d told the whole island he was dumping her before informing her of the fact. But that shifting pink blanket captured her full attention.

A tiny wrinkled hand reached up from the lightweight cotton, the movement followed by the softest sigh imaginable.

Her ex-fiancé was carrying a baby.

“But this is important, Maresa. It’s about Isla.” He lowered his arm cradling the infant so Maresa could see her better.

Indigo eyes blinked up at her. Short dark hair complimented the baby’s medium skin tone. A white cotton headband decorated with rosettes rested above barely there eyebrows. Perfectly formed tiny features were molded into a silent yawn, the tiny hands reaching heavenward as the baby shifted against Jaden.

Something shifted inside Maresa at the same time. A maternal urge she hadn’t known she possessed seized her insides and squeezed tight. Once upon a time she had dreamed about having this man’s babies. She’d imagined what they would look like. Now, he had sought her out to...taunt her with the life she’d missed out on?

The maternal urge hardened into resentment, but she’d be damned if she’d let him see it.

“Congratulations. Your daughter is lovely, Jaden.” She straightened as the large shadow of Cameron Holmes covered them both.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Delphine?” His tone was cool and impersonal, yet in that awkward moment he felt like an ally.

She appreciated his strong presence beside her when she felt that old surge of betrayal. She let Jaden answer since she didn’t feel any need to defend the ex who’d called off their wedding via a text message.

“There’s no problem. I’m an old friend of Maresa’s. Jaden Torries.” He extended his free hand to introduce himself.

Mr. Holmes ignored it. Poppy barked at Jaden.

“Then I’m sure you’ll respect Maresa’s wish to be on her way.” Her unlikely rescuer tucked his hand under one arm as easily as he’d plucked his pet from the water earlier.

The warmth of his skin made her want to curl into him just like Poppy had, too.

“Right.” Jaden dropped his hand. “Except Rafe’s old girlfriend, Trina, left town last night, Maresa. And since Trina’s my cousin, she stuck me with the job of delivering Rafe’s daughter into your care.”

Maresa’s feet froze to the spot. She had a vague sense of Cameron leaning closer to her, his hand suddenly at her back. Which was helpful, because she thought for a minute there was a very real chance she was going to faint. Her knees wobbled beneath her.

“Sorry to spring it on you like this,” Jaden continued. “I tried telling Trina she owed it to your family to tell you in person, and I thought I had her talked into it, but—”

“Rafe?” Maresa turned around slowly, needing to see with her own eyes if there was any chance Jaden was telling the truth. “Trina broke up with him almost a year ago. Right after the accident.”

Jaden stepped closer. “Right. And Trina didn’t even find out she was pregnant until a couple of weeks afterward, while Rafe was still in critical condition. Trina decided to go through with the pregnancy on her own. Isla was born the end of January.”

Maresa was too shaken to even do the math, but she did know that Trina and Rafe had been hot and heavy for the last month or two they were together. They’d been a constant fixture on Maresa’s social media feed for those weeks. Which had made it all the more upsetting when Trina bailed on him right after the accident, bursting into tears every time she got close to his bedside before giving up altogether. Had she been even more emotional because she’d been in the early stages of pregnancy?

“Why wouldn’t she have called me or my mother?” Her knees wobbled again as her gaze fell on the tiny infant. Isla? She had Rafe’s hairline—the curve of dark hair encroaching on the temples. But plenty of babies had that, didn’t they? “I would have helped her. I could have been there when the baby was born.”

“Who is Rafe?” Cameron asked.

She’d forgotten all about him.

Maresa gulped a breath. “My brother.” The very real possibility that Jaden was telling the truth threatened to level her. Rafe was in no position to be a father with the assorted symptoms he still battled. And financially? She was barely getting by supporting her family and paying some of Rafe’s staggering medical bills since he hadn’t been fully insured at the time.

“Look.” Jaden set a bright pink diaper bag down on the beach. Cartoon cats cartwheeled across the front. “My apartment is no place for a baby. You know that, right? I just took her because Trina showed up last night, begging me for help. I told her no, but told her she could spend the night. She took off while I was sleeping. But she left a note for you.” He looked as though he wanted to sort through the diaper bag to find it, but before he leaned down he held the baby out to Maresa. “Here. Take her.”

Maresa wasn’t even sure she’d made up her mind to do so when Jaden thrust the warm, precious weight into her arms. He was still talking about Trina seeming “unstable” ever since giving birth, but Maresa couldn’t follow his words with an infant in her arms. She felt stiff and awkward, but she was careful to support the squirming bundle, cradling the baby against her chest while Isla gurgled and kicked.

Maresa’s heart turned over. Melted.

Here, the junglelike landscaping blocked out the sun where the tree branches arced over the dirt path. The scent of green and growing things mingled with the sea breeze and a hint of baby shampoo.

“She’s a beauty,” Cameron observed over her shoulder. He had set Poppy on the ground so he could get closer to Isla and Maresa. “Are you okay holding her?”

“Fine,” she said automatically, not wanting to give her up. “Just...um...overwhelmed.”

Glancing up at him, she caught her breath at the expression on his face as he looked down at the child in her arms. She had thought he seemed different—kinder—toward Poppy. But that unguarded smile she’d seen for the Maltese was nothing compared to the warmth in his expression as he peered down at the baby.

If she didn’t know better—if she hadn’t seen him be rude and abrupt with perfectly nice hotel staffers—she would have guessed she caught him making silly faces at Isla. The little girl appeared thoroughly captivated.

“Here it is.” Jaden straightened, a piece of paper in his hand. “She left this for you along with some notes about the kid’s schedule.” He passed the papers to Cameron. “I’ve got to get going if I’m going to catch that ferry, Maresa. I only came out here because Trina gave me no choice, but I’ve got to get to work—”

“Seriously?” She had to work, too. But even as she was about to say as much, another voice in her head piped up. If Isla was really Rafe’s child, would she honestly want Jaden Torries in charge of the baby for another minute? The answer was a crystal clear absolutely not.

“Drop her off at social services if you don’t believe me.” Jaden shrugged. “I’ve got a rich old lady client paying a whole hell of a lot for me to paint her portrait at eight.” He checked his watch. “I’m outta here.”

And with that, her ex-fiancé walked away, his sandy-gold curls bouncing. Poppy barked again, clearly unimpressed.

Social services? Really?

“If only I had Poppy around three years ago when I got engaged to him,” she muttered darkly, hugging the baby tighter.

Cameron’s hand briefly found the small of her back as he watched the other man leave. He clutched the letter from Rafe’s former girlfriend—Isla’s mother.

“And yet you didn’t go through with the wedding. So you did just fine on your own.” Cameron glanced down at her, his hand lingering on her back for one heart-stopping moment before it drifted away again. “Want me to read the letter? Or would you like me to take Isla so you can do the honors?”

He held the paper out for her to decide.

She liked him better here—outside the hotel. He was less intimidating, for one thing.

For another? He was appealing to her in all the ways a man could. A dangerous feeling for her when she needed to be on her guard around him. He was a guest, for crying out loud. But she was out of her depth with this precious little girl in her arms and she didn’t know what she’d do if Cameron Holmes walked away from her right now. Having him there made her feel—if only for a moment—that she wasn’t totally alone.

“Actually, I’d be really grateful if you would read it.” She shook her head, tightening her hold on Isla. “I’m too nervous.”

Katrina—Trina—Blanchett had been Rafe’s girlfriend for about six months before the car accident. Maresa had never seen them together except for photos on social media of the two of them out playing on the beach or at the clubs. They’d seemed happy enough, but Rafe had told her on the phone it wasn’t serious. The night of the accident, in fact, the couple had gotten into an argument at a bar and Trina had stranded him there. Rafe had called their mother for a ride, something she’d been only too happy to provide even though it was late. She’d never had an MS attack while driving before.

Less than ten days after seeing Rafe in the hospital, Trina had told Maresa through tears that she couldn’t stand seeing him that way and it would be better for her to leave. At the time, Maresa had been too focused on Rafe’s prognosis to worry about his flighty girlfriend. If she’d taken more time to talk to the girl, might she have confided the pregnancy news that followed the breakup?

“Would you like to have a seat?” Cameron pointed toward a bench near the outdoor faucet where guests could rinse off their feet. “You look too pale.”

She nodded, certain she was pale. What was her mother going to say when she found out Rafe had a daughter? If he had a daughter. And Rafe? She couldn’t imagine how frustrated he would feel to have been left out of the whole experience. Then again, how frustrated would he feel knowing that he couldn’t care for his daughter the way he could have at one time?

Struggling to get her spinning thoughts under control, she allowed Cameron to guide her to the bench. Carefully, she lowered herself to sit with Isla, the baby blanket covering her lap since the kicking little girl had mostly freed herself of the swaddling. While she settled the baby, she noticed Cameron lift Poppy and towel her off a bit more before setting her down again. He double-checked the leash clip on her collar then took the seat beside Maresa.

“I’m ready,” she announced, needing to hear whatever Isla’s mother had to say.

Cameron unfolded the paper and read aloud. “‘Isla is Rafe’s daughter. I wasn’t with anyone else while we were together. I was afraid to tell him about her after the doctor said he’d be...’” Cameron hesitated for only a moment “‘...brain damaged. I know Rafe can’t take care of her, but his mother will love her, right? I can’t do this. I’m going to see my dad in Florida for a few weeks, but I’ll sign papers to give you custody. I’m sorry.”

Maresa listened to the silence following the words, her brain uncomprehending. How could the woman just take off and leave her baby—Rafe’s baby—with Jaden Torries while she traveled to Florida? Who did that? Trina wasn’t a kid—she was twenty-one when she’d dated Rafe. But she’d never had much family support, according to Rafe. Her mother was an alcoholic and her father had raised her, but he’d never paid her much attention.

A fierce surge of protectiveness swelled inside of Maresa. It was so strong she didn’t know where to put it all. But she knew for damn sure that she would protect little Isla—her niece—far better than the child’s mother had. And she would call a lawyer and find out how to file for full custody.

“You could order DNA testing,” Cameron observed, his impressive abs rippling as he leaned forward on the bench. “If you are concerned she’s not a biological relative.”

Maresa closed her eyes for a moment to banish all thoughts of male abs, no matter how much she welcomed the distraction from the monumental life shift taking place for her this morning.

“I’ll ask an attorney about it when I call to find out how I can secure legal custody.” She wrapped Isla’s foot back in a corner of the blanket. “For right now, I need to find suitable care for Isla before my shift at the Carib begins for the day.” Throat burning, Maresa realized she was near tears just thinking about the unfairness of it all. Not to her, of course, because she would make it work no matter what life threw at her.

But how unfair to Rafe, who wouldn’t be able to parent his child without massive amounts of help. Perhaps he wouldn’t be interested in parenting at all. Would he be angry? Would Trina’s surprise be the kind of thing that unsettled his confused mind and set back his recovery?

She would call his counselor before saying anything to him. That call would be right after she spoke to a lawyer. She wasn’t even ready to tell her mother yet. Analise Delphine’s health was fragile and stress could aggravate it. Maresa wanted to be sure she was calm before she spoke to her mother. They’d all been in the dark for months about Trina’s pregnancy. A few more hours wouldn’t matter one way or another.

“I noticed on the dog walker’s résumé that she has experience working in a day care.” Cameron folded the paper from Trina and inserted it into an exterior pocket of the diaper bag. “And as it happens, I already walked the dog. Would you like me to text her and ask her to meet you somewhere in the hotel to give you a hand?”