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a large Scotch and sleep for twelve hours. Instead, he’d wait to see if Helen could reach someone from the New York law office so he could find out what the hell was going on.

      “Line one,” Helen’s voice came on the intercom. “Mr. Randall.”

      “Jared Hunter here,” he said into the phone, motioning Cassandra to sit down again.

      “We’ve been trying to reach you for over a week, Hunter.” The speaker had a definite New York twang.

      “I believe my secretary explained where I was. The airport just reopened in Bangkok.”

      “You back in the States?”

      “As of a couple of hours ago. I arrived at the office and found your letter. What kind of scam is this?” As far as Jared was concerned, it was just that unless proved otherwise.

      “No scam, Hunter. Ashley and Brittany Hunter are your daughters, twins. Cute as can be, too.”

      “I never heard about them.” He glanced at Cassandra, noticing her downcast eyes, as if she were trying to efface her existence. Discreet.

      There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. “I am aware of that. Apparently Mrs. Hunter was concerned that you would insist on someone else being in charge of the New York office if you discovered the truth. She, er, enjoyed the business aspect of things—apparently had no inclination to give it up for full-time motherhood. Not that she wasn’t a fine mother.”

      Sounded like lawyer talk—covering all bases, Jared thought. He closed his eyes. MaryEllen had been right. He would have moved heaven and earth to keep her in San Francisco if he’d known she was pregnant. And probably demanded she curtail some of her activities at the office. A mother’s place was with her children.

      “How old are they?” Jared asked, a sinking feeling in his gut. Could they truly be his? Had MaryEllen hidden that from him just to make sure she could keep forging ahead in the business world? Given her unrelenting determination, he could easily imagine her doing just that.

      “Two. A month or so over, maybe. I have the file at the office. I can look up their birth date in the morning, if you like. Mrs. Hunter made it clear that they were yours and she had not told you of their birth. We thought you would be here for the funeral and the reading of the will. Actually, we haven’t read the will yet. Two-year-olds don’t understand much, and she left everything she had to them, with you as trustee. We can go over all that when you get here.”

      “And where are the twins now?” Jared asked, the enormity of the situation gradually sinking in. He was a father. He had two daughters he’d never met who now looked to him for everything. God, he knew nothing about being a parent. He focused on Cassandra, feeling like she was the only solid, real thing in a world suddenly spinning out of control. Her calm demeanor soothed him. Her downcast eyes had him wondering what she was thinking.

      “We didn’t want them to go into foster care, so one of the receptionists at the office agreed to watch them. She has children of her own and is good with kids. But this has gone on longer than we anticipated.”

      “I’ll see if I can get a red-eye out tonight and be in your office first thing in the morning.” Jared hung up the phone.

      “I’ll call the airlines right away,” Helen said from the doorway.

      “You heard?” he asked.

      “Enough to know you have to get back there. Are the twins yours?”

      “Apparently. The age fits. MaryEllen told him they were mine. She left everything to them with me as trustee. Damn! What a mess. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”

      “Well, I can. Would you have gone along with her opening a branch office if you had known?” Helen asked dryly.

      Shaking his head, Jared looked at her. “What do I know about twins? About little kids?” He rubbed his eyes, his gut churning.

      “For one thing, you’ll need someone to accompany you,” Cassandra said. She knew a lot about children, more than she wanted. “Toddlers are a handful. An inexperienced person would be hard-pressed to manage one on a plane—much less twins. Those little girls will be upset with all the changes, and probably missing their mother, which could make them even more fretful.”

      Both Jared and Helen stared at her.

      “I assumed you would be bringing them home with you,” Cassandra said, looking from one to the other.

      “If they’re mine, I’ll have no choice.”

      Cassandra nodded. Twins. She smiled gently. She remembered the little boys she’d cared for when she’d been sixteen. What imps they’d been. Whether from being twins or being normal rambunctious boys, she never knew. But they sure kept her busy.

      “Any other words of wisdom?” Jared asked.

      She gave a small shrug. “I’ve been around kids. If you haven’t, you might not know what to expect.”

      Jared couldn’t believe it. This epitome of a career-track businesswoman around kids? She wasn’t married, was she? He tried to remember the interview two years ago. He had been more interested in her credentials than her marital status. But he was certain she was single. “When were you around kids, in another life?”

      She nodded. A life she had hoped to leave behind once she graduated from college. The past two years had been great, no children demanding attention or to fall for and then have to give up. She had her way to make in the world and relished her position at Hunter Associates. Children didn’t figure in her plans.

      “She’s right, Jared. You will need help. You would with even a single child,” Helen said. “I’ll see if I can find someone to go with you. You’ll need to hire a nanny or housekeeper, though it’s quite late to get anyone on such short notice.”

      “Do the best you can. And see what kind of nonstop flight you can get to New York tonight.”

      Cassandra rose. “Do you want to hear my recommendations on GlobalNet while you’re waiting? I could get started on some of the ideas while you’re in New York, if you approve.”

      Business first, last and always, Jared thought tightly. Just like MaryEllen. “Show me what you have.” He spread out the computer printout and began to read.

      Forty-five minutes later Jared leaned back. He rubbed his eyes with forefinger and thumb, then stretched to get rid of the kinks in his back. That Scotch sounded better and better.

      The work Cassandra had done was solid, just as she’d said. Interestingly, she gave credit to the entire team she headed, but he knew everyone acted under her direction. She was good at her job—he’d suspected she would be when he hired her two years ago, nearly a year after MaryEllen had moved to New York.

      “So we go?” she asked, a tremor of excitement in her voice, a hint of anticipation in her eyes.

      “We go. Good job.” He believed in giving praise where it was due.

      She smiled. Jared felt the jolt to his toes. Her face seemed to glow with the offhand praise. Her eyes sparkled, and for the first time he wondered what she would look like without her glasses. What would she look like with her hair down, swirling softly around her face? What would she look like wearing something frilly and feminine? Before he could pursue the image, Helen stuck her head in.

      “Got you two seats on the eleven-thirty flight tonight. But no help as of yet. Every agency I called said they’d look into it. One called back with a possible for next week. Nothing for today. And they’re closing now, so I don’t expect any answers before tomorrow.”

      “So what next?” Jared murmured, his eyes closed. He longed for that Scotch more than ever. Maybe he’d have time to get home, shower and have one before he had to leave for the airport. How much work did he absolutely have to get through before leaving? His employees were competent. He could delegate everything until he returned from New York. The looming problem

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