The Baby Claim Read online

  From a family feud...to a one-night stand ending in heartbreak.

  Now will these rivals get a second chance at love?

  Rugged oil tycoon Broderick has avoided temptation for years. But an abandoned baby forces him back into his ex-lover’s world. He needs Glenna. For the child, for himself...for untangling the ties that bind their families. For discovering who the baby’s father really is. But will their passion survive the truth?

  “You talk about sex a lot.”

  He tipped his arrogant head to the side and glanced at the yellow sofa tucked behind him. One damn look loaded with suggestion.

  “Shut up and listen to me.” She barely resisted the urge to stomp her foot.

  “I am. It’s fun to watch your cheeks go pink.” He clapped a hand on his chest. “And by the way, my mother always told me it’s rude to tell people to shut up.” A sardonic smile played along his lips.

  “Rude? Talking about sex in a business meeting is rude.” She scooped up a brass paperweight in the shape of a bear that had belonged to her father. “I’m not in line to join the Alaskan female dating population ready to fawn over you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to, and there’s no need to threaten me with your version of brass knuckles. You’re safe with me.” Humor left his face and his expression became all business. “But since you’re as bemused by this data as I am, come with me to speak to your mother.”

  “Of course. Let’s do that. We’ll have this sorted out in no time.”

  The sooner the better.

  She wanted Broderick Steele out of her office and not a simple touch away.

  * * *

  The Baby Claim is part of the Alaskan Oil Barons series, the eight-book saga from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann.

  Dear Reader,

  Happily-ever-after comes in so many forms at many stages. My parents were high school sweethearts, and I was lucky to see them celebrate their fiftieth anniversary. Mom and Dad celebrated that milestone by driving around town in a vintage MG that my father had restored for the event. They visited local places where they had dated as teenagers. My mother was bedridden with lupus at the time and my father carried her to the car. There was no doubting their love for each other.

  My mother passed away not too long after that, a day before their anniversary. We all grieved, but we also wanted Dad to find joy again—as Mom would have wanted.

  And he did. My father met a lovely widow. They dated, married and are like giggly newlyweds. As my dad said, “Who would have thought my heart could go pitter-patter again?”

  As we blended two families, the idea for this series came to me. What a joy it is to see it in print, a living testament to love’s enduring power!

  Happy reading,

  Catherine Mann

  www.CatherineMann.com

  Catherine Mann

  The Baby Claim

  USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, catherinemann.com.

  Books by Catherine Mann

  Harlequin Desire

  Diamonds in the Rough

  One Good Cowboy

  Pursued by the Rich Rancher

  Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO

  Bayou Billionaires

  His Pregnant Princess Bride

  Reunited with the Rebel Billionaire

  The Lourdes Brothers of Key Largo

  The Boss’s Baby Arrangement

  His Secretary’s Little Secret

  Alaskan Oil Barons

  The Baby Claim

  Visit her Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com, or catherinemann.com, for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

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  To Dad and Betty, and the joy of a

  second happily-ever-after.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Rags to Riches Baby by Andrea Laurence

  Excerpt from Off Limits by Clare Connelly

  One

  “Do you live to infuriate me, or is it a pleasant pastime for when you’re not wining and dining the single females of Alaska?”

  Glenna Mikkelson-Powers splayed her hands on her day planner to avoid launching herself from behind her mahogany desk to confront Broderick Steele.

  Being so close to the man had never been a wise idea.

  The sensual draw was too strong for any woman to resist for long and stay sane. His long wool duster over his suit was pure Hugo Boss. But the cowboy hat and leather boots had a hint of wear that only increased his appeal. His dark hair, which attested to his quarter Inuit heritage, showed the first signs of premature gray. His charisma and strength were as vast as the Alaska tundra he and she both called home.

  In a state this large, there should have been enough space for both of them. Theoretically, they should never have to cross paths. But their feuding families’ constant battle over dominance of the oil industry kept Glenna and Broderick in each other’s social circles.

  Too often for her peace of mind.

  Even so, he’d never shown up at her office before.

  She pressed her hands harder against her day planner and fixed him with her best icy stare. “I have an assistant. Zeke—the grandfatherly looking gentleman—can announce you. Or you can knock. At least attempt some semblance of a normal greeting.”

  Not that anything about Broderick was in any way calm or normal.

  “First of all—” he tossed his snow-dusted hat on her desk “—I do not live to infuriate anyone. Your assistant wasn’t out there.”

  Glenna glanced through the open door and found his statement to be true. She repressed her inclination to roll her eyes anyway. Surely Broderick could have waited for Zeke to return instead of barging in here.

  “Second...” He peeled off his leather gloves one at a time, revealing callused hands. A man of brawn, he also happened to have an extraordinary chief finance officer aptitude that had served his family’s business well. “...I am far too busy to have the sort of sex life you’ve attributed to me.”

  That dried up any words she might have spoken, and made her stomach flip more than it should have.

  “Third, Glenna, I have no idea why you’re acting like the injured party when I’m the one who had a bombshell dropped on my desk today.” He leaned closer, the musky scent of his cologne teasing her senses like breathing in smoky warmth on a cold day. “Although once we sort this out, let’s come back to the obsession you have with my sex life.”

  Light caught the mischief in his eyes, bringing out whiskey tones in the dark depths. His full lips pulled upward in a haughty smile.

  “You’re being highly unprofessional.” She narrowed her own eyes, angry at her reaction to him as she drank in his familiar arrogance.

  Their gazes held and the air crackled. She remembered
the feeling all too well from their Romeo-and-Juliet fling in college.

  Doomed from the start.

  And yet...those memories had never faded.

  One weekend long ago. A passionate couple of days in her attic apartment. Fireplace blazing. Snow piling on the skylight.

  Steam filling the shared shower stall.

  Still, those two days were nothing compared to the love she’d felt for her late husband during her six-year marriage. The deep emotional connection, the respect they’d felt for one another. The work they’d invested in overcoming hardships.

  And the grief they’d shared over their inability to conceive a child.

  Her job was everything to her now. Glenna refused to put it at risk, especially for Broderick.

  He was her rival. He wanted his family’s business to dominate the oil industry and she simply could not allow that. She was the CFO of Mikkelson Oil, and she’d make sure her family’s business came out on top.

  His mesmerizing eyes and broody disposition would not distract her.

  She eased back in her chair. “This is the last time I will ask you. What are you doing in my office?”

  “Like you don’t know.” He dropped a large envelope on top of her day planner. “What would you call this?”

  “Mail,” she said, giving herself time to figure out his game.

  So much had been upended in the company since her father had died of a heart attack two years ago. So much loss. First her father, then her husband. She’d been left reeling. But if she allowed grief to consume her, Mikkelson Oil would lose out...to Broderick.

  “Do you care to elaborate?” she asked.

  He shrugged, his starched white shirt rustling against his broad shoulders.

  “Printouts, technically, with some kind of bogus report on a stock share buyout. It makes no damn sense, but my people have traced it back to your office.”

  She reached into a drawer, pulled out a manila envelope and placed it next to his file.

  “Really?” She tapped the envelope. “Because I could ask you about a similar buyout. In reverse.”

  His forehead furrowed before he dropped into one of the two leather club chairs in front of her desk. “Our companies are exchanging shares? That doesn’t make sense.”

  She jabbed a manicured finger in his direction. “Your father is up to something and I don’t appreciate this push-back since my dad died. It’s sexist to assume we’re weaker without a man at the helm.”

  Her shoulders went back defensively as she sat taller and straighter. She would not allow Broderick Steele or his father to intimidate her.

  “You talk about sex a lot.” He tipped his arrogant head to the side and glanced at the yellow sofa tucked behind him. One damn look loaded with suggestion.

  “Shut up and listen to me.” She barely resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

  “I am. It’s fun to watch your cheeks go pink.” He clapped a hand to his chest. “And by the way, my mother always told me it’s rude to tell people to shut up.” A sardonic smile played along his lips.

  “Rude? Talking about sex in a business meeting is rude.” She scooped up a brass paperweight in the shape of a bear that had belonged to her father. Shifting it from hand to hand was an oddly comforting ritual. Or perhaps not so odd. When she was a small girl, her father had told her the statue gave people power, attributing his success to the brass bear. After the last two years of loss, Glenna needed every ounce of luck and power she could get. “I’m not in line to join the Alaskan female dating population ready to fawn over you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to, and there’s no need to threaten me with your version of brass knuckles. You’re safe with me.” Humor left his face and his expression became all business. “But since you’re as bemused by this data as I am, come with me to speak to your mother.”

  “Of course. Let’s do that. We’ll have this sorted out in no time.”

  The sooner the better.

  She wanted Broderick Steele out of her office and not a simple touch away.

  * * *

  Broderick was pushing his luck with Glenna, but this woman got to him in a way no one else ever had.

  When they were in college, he’d told himself it was the warring-families, forbidden-fruit thing that had drawn them to each other. Except, he still craved her.

  Usually he kept those feelings in check by staying as far away from this particular blonde bombshell as possible.

  But today he’d received disturbing paperwork about stocks changing hands.

  “Are you ready to speak to your mother about this now? We need to know who on your board, or on mine, is messing with our companies.”

  She looked up, her blue eyes as crystal clear as the Alaska sky after a storm. “Yes, absolutely, the sooner the better. She’s here today. I met with her earlier this morning.” Glenna nodded, rose and stepped to the front of her desk.

  Holy hell. He damn near swallowed his tongue.

  Her pencil skirt hugged her curves and set his imagination on fire. The suit jacket plunged, and even though a white blouse covered almost all her skin, that V... He forced his eyes away out of respect.

  And to preserve his sanity.

  “After you,” he said.

  He worked to keep himself in check, to stay steady even though proximity to her sent him reeling. He followed her past a sitting area in her office with that yellow sofa and two chairs clustered around a fireplace.

  She glanced over her shoulder, blond hair swishing in a golden curtain. “Mother’s office is two floors up. We’ll settle this. Not to worry.”

  Without another word, she charged through the door, boot heels muted against the plush carpet. The wall of windows along one side of the corridor provided an awe-inspiring view of the mountains. It might be spring everywhere else in America. But here in Alaska, snow still capped the peaks.

  Sunshine streamed through the windows and over Glenna. To keep his eyes off her swaying hips and the killer leather boots, he checked out the art on the other wall. Yet again he was struck by the differences between the Mikkelson corporate offices and his family’s building on the other side of Anchorage’s business district. The Steele headquarters had a more modern look, sleek and tall in a way that reminded him of his home state, like an ice sculpture filled with coal and grit and gold.

  The Mikkelson offices harkened back to old-school Alaska, with a rugged elegance denoted by pelt rugs and wooden furniture heavy enough to remind people nothing fragile lasted in this land. To make it here, you had to be born of sturdy stock.

  The file crinkled in his grip as they walked, reminding him why he was here. What did his father know? Broderick hadn’t been able to find him this morning, and he’d tried hard. Damn hard.

  Lately, his dad had been distracted and inaccessible. Unusually so, and at the worst possible time. Bids were going up for the major pipeline from Alaska to the Dakotas. This wasn’t just about money or energy independence. It was also about keeping projects ecologically friendly, making sure the land they loved and called home was protected.

  They were a family of engineers and ecologists, working like hell to present a balanced plan.

  Broderick knew his reputation for being a cold bastard, but he didn’t see the point in getting emotionally invested in anything—or anyone—outside of work.

  Something had gone haywire in him when his sister died. He understood it intellectually, but that didn’t make it easier to get past. Maybe if he hadn’t lost his mother at the same time, she might have helped him find his way out of the maze where he sabotaged relationship after relationship. Now his dating life consisted of women who had no interest in anything more than being casual.

  Glenna often stated—emphatically—that she was all about her job. He understood. He was married to his work, too.

  That’s why this ridiculous
rumor of a merger had to be squelched.

  “You don’t act like most number crunchers.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Practical, you mean?”

  “I guess. You’re just so...outrageous. Illogical. Unpredictable.” She picked up her pace.

  “And you are very much a buttoned-up numbers gal.” Heat fired inside him as he thought of a time he’d unbuttoned her, very thoroughly.

  She seemed to read his mind. “Keep your eyes forward, cowboy.”

  “Do you think I brought a hidden camera to steal secret formulas from your office?”

  He met her eyes full on and found those blue depths too alluring. Something about them made words slip out before he could stop them. “I would very much like to know your secret desires.”

  Her breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling quickly. She licked her lips. “I prefer we keep things all business. Do you think you can respect my wishes for at least the next half hour? If not, we’ll be doing this meeting via videoconference.”

  He nodded, backing up a step, knowing he was playing with fire. Still, she was right about him being unpredictable. Despite the complications, he found himself plotting to press for more from her. Later, of course. Timing was everything.

  “Of course I’ll respect your wishes.”

  “I wish I could trust that,” she said softly, before walking to the elevator and pushing the button.

  Her words stung. Did she think so little of him? He joined her at the elevator, watching her, musing.

  She felt for a hairpin, tucking it inside a sweep of hair that pushed the golden length over one shoulder. Her pale pink nail polish was barely perceptible. Classy. Understated. Like her. “I can’t help but be concerned about you getting an insider’s peek at our business and financials.”

  The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and she stepped inside.

  He joined her in the circular enclosure, which provided a panoramic view of the harbor with a few boats still floating between chunks of ice. “Maybe you should worry about your files. There are all sorts of cloning devices for computers and—”

 
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