Yuletide Baby Surprise (Billionaires And Babies #38)(26)
Author: Catherine Mann

Mari looked back and forth between them, a look of confusion on her face. “The Brotherhood?”

“A nickname for some of my high school classmates,” Rowan explained. “We used to call ourselves the Alpha Brotherhood.”

They still did, actually, after a few drinks over a game of cards. The name had started as a joke between them, a way of thumbing their noses at the frat-boy types, and after a while, the label stuck.

Hillary thrust a hand toward Mari. “Hi, I’m Hillary Donavan. I’m married to Rowan’s former classmate and present business partner, Troy.”

Mari’s eyebrows arched upward. “Oh, your husband is the computer mogul.”

Hillary took over pushing the stroller and preceded them into the suite as if it was her hotel penthouse. “You can go ahead and say it. My husband is the Robin Hood Hacker.”

“I wasn’t…” Mari stuttered, following the baby buggy deeper into the room. “I wouldn’t…uh…”

“It’s okay,” Hillary said with a calm smile that had smoothed awkward moments in her days as an event planner for high-powered D.C. gatherings. “You can relax. Everyone knows my husband’s history.”

Mari smiled apologetically, leaning into the stroller to pull the sleeping baby out and cradle her protectively in her arms. “I’m not particularly good with chitchat.”

“That’s all right. I talk plenty for two people.” She cupped the back of the infant’s head. “What an adorable baby. Issa, right?”

“Yes.” Rowan pushed the stroller to a corner, lightweight gauzy pink blanket trailing out the side. “Did you see the gossip rags or did the Brotherhood tell you that, too?”

Hillary made herself at home on the leather sofa. “Actually, I’m here to help. Troy and Rowan are more than just business partners on that computer diagnostics project you so disapprove of—” Hillary winked to take the sting out the dig “—they’re also longtime friends. I have some last-minute Christmas shopping to do for those tough-to-buy-for people in my life, and voilà. Coming here seemed the perfect thing to do.”

The pieces came together in Rowan’s mind, Hillary’s appearance now making perfect sense. While the Brotherhood kept their Interpol work under wraps, Hillary knew about her husband’s freelance agent work and Salvatore had even taken her into the fold for occasional missions. Now she was here. He should have thought of it himself, if his brain hadn’t been scrambled by a certain sexy research scientist.

Hillary would make the perfect bodyguard for Mari and Issa. No one would question her presence and she added a layer of protection to this high-profile situation.

Although sometimes the whole Interpol connection also came with dangers. God, he was in the middle of an impossible juggling act.

The baby started fussing and Rowan extended his arms to take her. Mari hesitated, tucking the baby closer. Rowan lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

“Mari? I can take her.” He lifted the baby from Mari’s arms. “You two keep talking.”

“Wow.” Hillary laughed. “You sure handle that tiny tyke well. No wonder you’re dubbed one of the world’s hottest bachelors. Snap a photo of you now and you’ll need your own bodyguard.”

Mari’s smile went tight and Rowan wondered… Holy hell, she couldn’t be jealous. Could she? Was that the same look he’d seen drifting through her eyes when Hillary had hugged him earlier? He wanted her to desire him, but he also wanted—needed—for her to trust him.

“Enough, Hillary. You were talking about Troy’s computer search….”

“Right—” she turned back to Mari “—and you’re taking care of the baby, Rowan. So vamoose. Go fill out your list for Santa. I’ve got this.”

Rowan cocked an eyebrow over being so summarily dismissed. And putting Issa in the bassinet in another room would give him the perfect excuse to slip away and call Troy.

Not to mention time to regroup for the next phase of winning over Mari. He’d made progress with her today.

Now he just had to figure out how to persuade his friends to give him enough space to take that romancing to the next level.

* * *

Mari sank to the edge of the sofa. Her head was spinning at how fast things were changing around her. Not to mention how fast this woman was talking.

“Hold on a moment, please.” Mari raised a hand. “What were you saying about computer searches into Issa’s past?”

Hillary dropped into the wide rattan chair beside her. “No worries. It’s all totally legal computer work. I promise. Troy walks on the right side of the law these days. And yes, it’s okay to talk about it. I know about my husband’s past, and I assume you know about Rowan’s. But they’ve both changed. They’re genuinely trying to make amends in more ways than most could imagine.”

Mari blinked in the wake of Hurricane Hillary, confused. Why would Rowan have needed to make amends for anything? Sure, he’d led a troubled life as a teen, but his entire adult life had been a walking advertisement for charity work. Even if she disputed some of his methods, she couldn’t deny his philanthropic spirit. “I’ve read the stories of his good deeds.”

“There’s so much more to Rowan than those stories.”

She knew that already. The press adored him and his work, and she had to admit his clinic had helped many. She just wished they could come to an agreement on how to make his work—the computerized side and even the personal side—more effective. If she could solve that problem, who knew how many more small clinics in stretched-thin outposts of the world would benefit from Rowan’s model of aid?

“Hillary, why are you telling me this?”

“The competitive animosity between the two of you is not a secret.” She tipped her head to the side, twirling a strand of red hair contemplatively. “So I find it strange that you’re here.”

“I’m here for the baby.”

“Really?” Hillary crossed her legs, her eyes glimmering with humor and skepticism. No getting anything past this woman. “There are a million ways the two of you could care for this child other than sharing a suite.”

Mari bristled, already feeling overwhelmed by this confident whirlwind who looked like a Ralph Lauren model in skinny jeans and a poet’s shirt.

Smoothing her hands over her sack dress, Mari sat up stiffly, channeling every regal cell in her body. “This is quite a personal conversation to be having with someone I only just met.”