Oops! My Secret Baby Is Caught By His Top-Lawyer Daddy! Novel

---- Donald asked curiously, "Clara, where are you from?" "I grew up in Silverton," she answered. "[ heard you're a pediatrician?" Dana chimed in suddenly, her arm still looped through Kacey's. "Then you'd better be careful when you place your bets later. One wager here could cost you several months of your salary. You don't want to end up crying over it." She exchanged a sly little grin with Kacey. Clara wasn't made of stone. From the moment she met their eyes, she had felt their hostility. Well, fine. She wasn't about to roll over. She curved her lips into a deliberate smile.

"No worries, Miss West. I picked horses as well as I picked husbands." She'd never even met these two before, no history, no grudge. The only reason they came at her with claws out was Aaron. And if they wanted claws? She had claws too. Sure enough, their faces stiffened instantly. Kacey let out a mocking laugh. "Clara, horse racing isn't about luck. Dana studied with professionals. If you don't know what you're doing, just follow her lead." ---- Clara's smile only grew brighter. "Unlike you, Miss Cole, I don't like copying others. I prefer to make my own choices." Kacey's breath hitched.

For a second, she couldn't think of a comeback. At last she snapped, "We'll see about that!" She spun back toward the racetrack, Dana at her side, just as the horses and jockeys began entering the field. Aaron's chest shook with quiet laughter. He bent close, his voice a warm murmur against her ear. "Mrs. Devereaux, what a tongue. You'd make one hell of a lawyer." Clara shot him a sideways glare, whispering back, "This is all your fault, charming every woman in sight. We'll settle this when we get home." Aaron looked positively innocent. "Sweetheart! This isn't on me. Sure, Mr.

Cole mentioned introducing his daughter once, but I never agreed. I've never met either of those women privately. Don't even have their numbers." Clara huffed. "Doesn't matter. It's still trouble you stirred up." Aaron laced his fingers through hers, squeezing gently as he coaxed, "Then punish me tonight. Let me give ---- you a massage." Heat flooded Clara's face. She shot him down instantly. "No! Last time you said massage, you didn't exactly keep it at that!" Across the crowd, Dana was sneaking glances at them again. So this was what the great Aaron Devereaux was like in private?

She bit her lip hard enough to sting before dragging her gaze back to the track. The announcer's voice rang out, introducing the horses and their riders. Horse No. 1 was Mr. Cole's Thunderstrike. Aaron's horse, Moonfire, was No. 7. There were eight horses in total. Some jockeys checked their gear, others whispered final words to their mounts. The energy in the arena built higher with every second. Waiters wove through the VIP lounge, carrying betting slips. That was when Clara learned the truth: on the third floor, the minimum wager was a hundred thousand dollars.

Dana hadn't exaggerated-a single bet really could cost Clara several months' pay. She and Aaron stepped up to the railing. A waiter ---- handed them binoculars, and Clara lifted them, scanning the track. Nearby, Dana's voice rang with certainty. "Dad, I'm putting my money on Horse No. 3-Ironheart. He's a purebred, sold at auction last year for $110 million. Just last year, he already won three championships on this track. He's experienced, and he looks sharp tonight." Donald nodded approvingly.

His daughter had spent money to study under real professionals, so of course he trusted her judgment. "Good analysis. We'll bet on No. 3." "Dana, I'll follow you on No. 3 too. You made me a fortune last year," Kacey chimed in. Then she turned to Clara with a smile that was just a little too sweet. "So, Clara, which horse are you betting on?"