The Secret Child & The Cowboy CEO by Janice Maynard

enjoy Trent’s bed. After all, she’d been living like a nun. She deserved some pleasure.
    But now…oh, God…now…
    She had done the unforgivable. She had tumbled head over heels, gut-deep in love with a man who was as inaccessible to her as the moon. Trent didn’t trust her. Might never trust her. And even if the truth eventually came to light, Bryn had a child. Jesse’s son. A boy whoseexistence might drive a permanent wedge between Bryn and the man she had always loved.
    Even if Trent finally accepted her at face value, the situation was hopeless. Even the least intuitive person could see that a happy ending was an oxymoron in this situation.
    She turned her head to look at the man who had wreaked such havoc in her life. He was seated on the far side of the opposite bed with his back to her. His voice on the phone was different…sharper, more commanding. She could almost see the employee on the other end of the call scrambling to follow orders.
    But Trent was not an ogre. He was disciplined. Fair.
    He would hate the description, but he was a beautiful man inside and out. Completely masculine, tough, steady, honorable.
    She couldn’t fault him, really, for choosing to believe his brother instead of Bryn. Jesse was his flesh and blood. And Trent had spent a lot of years looking after Jesse, making sure he was happy.
    Much like Bryn felt about her son. She would do anything for Allen. Including risking Trent’s wrath to prove that Allen deserved to be recognized as a Sinclair.
    But what she could not do was let this thing with Trent go any further. No matter how much she wanted to…no matter how wonderful it was to be in his arms, his life, his bed. Already, her heart was breaking. They had no future…none at all.
    She dressed quietly and slipped from the room. Macwas just rousing as Bryn arrived. “You look good,” she said. “Let me help you with that dinner tray.”
    â€œHospital food tastes like crap.”
    Despite his grumbling about the bland food, Mac polished off a piece of baked fish, green beans and carrots. His protest was halfhearted and she knew the collapse had scared him.
    Mac sipped tepid iced tea through a straw. “Where’s Trent?”
    â€œHe was on the phone when I left. He’ll be here soon.”
    â€œWhat’s going on between you two?”
    She winced inwardly, but managed not to react. “Nothing but the usual. He still isn’t sure he can trust me.”
    â€œThe boy’s a fool.”
    â€œYou were on the same page not so long ago,” she reminded him gently. “Until Jesse died and you had to face the truth. Give Trent some slack. He’s doing his best. Losing Jesse has shaken him. Especially since it came out of the blue.”
    Guilt washed over Mac’s face. He poked at a carrot with his fork. “I didn’t want the three boys to know how bad it was. I thought I could whip Jesse into shape, keep a close eye on him. I’m responsible for his death as much as anyone.”
    Seeing the proud Mac Sinclair with tears streaking down his leatherlike cheeks was almost more than Bryn could bear. She moved the dinner tray and scooted onto the bed beside him, putting her arm around his shoulder. “Don’t be a horse’s hiney,” she said softly. “You were awonderful father to all four of your boys…and a dear grandfather to me.”
    â€œI sent you away.” He rested his head against her chest, his eyes closed.
    â€œYou did what you thought was right.”
    â€œCan you ever forgive me?”
    â€œOf course,” she said simply. “Aunt Beverly was so good to me. And Allen adores her. I’m fine, Mac. No harm, no foul.”
    They sat there in silence, both of them lost in thought.
    Finally, Mac gave a wheezing sigh and moved fretfully in the bed. Bryn stood up and smoothed the covers.
    He folded his arms across his chest, wrestling with the IV.