Fallen Angels: Beguiled / Wanton / Uncovered. Lori Foster

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      He sounded suspicious, an edge of danger in his tone. She’d always known Derek could be formidable, his will like iron, his strength unquestionable. But she’d never sensed this edge of ruthlessness in him before. She shuddered.

      “I don’t mean to shock you, Derek. And I realize you weren’t all that interested when I told you, but I was hoping you’d feel different now.”

      His arms crossed over his chest and he narrowed his eyes. “Interested in what?”

      She drew a deep breath, but it didn’t help. “Our baby.”

      Not so much as an eyelash moved on his face. He even seemed to be holding his breath.

      “Derek?”

      “A baby?”

      She nodded, curling her toes into the thick carpet and shivering slightly, waiting.

      “How do you know it’s mine?”

      She reeled back, his words hitting her like a cold slap. After all she’d been through, everything that had happened, not once had she suspected he might deny the child. That was low, even for him. She had to struggle to draw a breath, and once she had it, she shouted, “You bastard!” She swung at him, but he caught her fist and the box fell to the floor, papers and pictures scattering.

      “Miserable, rotten…” Her struggles seemed puny in comparison to his strength, but he had destroyed her last hope, delivered the ultimate blow. She wanted to hurt him as badly as she’d been hurt, but he was simply too strong for her and finally she quit. He hadn’t said a word. Panting, shaking from the inside out, she whispered, “Let me go.”

      Immediately, he did. Keeping her head high, refusing to cry, to contemplate the hopelessness of the situation in the face of his doubt, she went to the couch and sat, snatching up her tights and trying to untangle them so she could get them on.

      Even though she refused to look at him, she was aware of him still standing there in the middle of the floor, fixed and silent. When he squatted down to pick up the contents of the box, Angel glanced at him. His face was set, dark color high on his cheekbones. He lifted one small photo and stared at it.

      All Angel wanted to do was get out. She jerked on her shoes, pulling the laces tight, fighting the tears that seemed to gather in her throat, choking her. She’d humiliated herself for no reason. She’d allowed him to touch her for no reason. He wasn’t going to acknowledge the baby.

      “I’m sorry.”

      She glanced up as she shrugged on her coat. Derek still crouched in the middle of the floor, a single photo in his hand, his head hanging forward.

      Angel frowned. “What did you say?”

      He slowly gathered up the rest of the things and came to his feet. “I said I’m sorry. The baby looks like me.”

      “Oh, I see. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have believed me. In all the time you’ve known me, I’ve proven to be such an execrable liar, such an adept manipulator, it’s of course natural that you would have doubts. Well, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have my coloring then, isn’t it? You’d never know for sure.”

      “Angel…” He reached a hand out toward her, and there was something in the gesture, a raw vulnerability she’d never witnessed. In fact, too many things about him seemed different, some softer, many harder edged. Had something happened to him in the months since she’d last seen him?

      She shook her head. She would never be drawn in by him again. “Those things are yours to keep. They’re duplicates. Records, photos, a birth certificate, which if you notice, has the father’s name blank.”

      “Why?”

      He sounded tortured now and she frowned, tilting her head to study him. “You weren’t interested, Derek, though I admit I was hoping you’d changed your mind by now.”

      “I’m interested,” he growled.

      She thought of the last time she’d called him, the hell he’d put her through. “When we spoke on the phone, you rudely informed me you didn’t want any attachments to a baby. You told me I was completely on my own, not to bother you.”

      He actually flinched, then closed his eyes and remained silent. But she had no pity for him, not after all that had happened. “That’s not why the name is blank, though. Remember what you told me about your family? Well, I love my son, and I won’t lose him to anyone, not to you, not to your damn relatives.”

      He looked blank and her irritation grew. “Your mother is a damn dragon, determined that everyone live according to her rules. You said that’s why your brother left, why he became so hard. Your family frightens me, if you want the truth. Especially your brother.”

      His golden eyes darkened to amber. “That’s ridiculous.”

      “You said he was the only one strong enough, independent enough to leave the company without a backward glance, to go his own way and tell the rest to go to hell. You said he was the only one who could make your mother nervous or your sister cry. You said he could do anything he set his mind to.”

      “No one makes my mother nervous, and my sister is a younger replica of her. Nothing touches them.”

      Angel buttoned her coat. “You’ve changed your mind then, but I won’t. I won’t take a chance that they’ll try to take him away from me. I don’t want them to know about my baby.”

      “Our…” He stopped and she saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Our baby.”

      This was a point too important to skimp on. She went to him, holding his gaze no matter that he tried to stare her down. She pointed at his chest and forced the words out through stiff lips. “I don’t know what new paternal mode you’re in, but don’t try to take him from me, Derek. I swear I’ll disappear so quick you’ll never find me or him again. I can do it. I’ve made plans.”

      “No.”

      She was incredulous. “You can’t dictate to me! Not anymore. Whatever power you held over me, you gave up months ago when you rejected my pregnancy.”

      He didn’t shout, but his near whisper was more effective than any raised voice could be. “Is that right? Then why are you here?”

      She had to leave, now, before she tripped herself up. She turned toward the door. “There’s an address in with the papers and photos. A post office box.” She slanted her gaze his way. “I’m sure you remember it. You can get in touch with me there.”

      “Give me your phone number.”

      “I don’t think so. But I’ll call you soon.”

      “You’re playing some game, Angel, and I don’t like it.”

      She had her hand on the doorknob and slowly turned. “It’s not a game.” As she stepped through the door, she said over her shoulder, “And I don’t like it either. Think about the baby, Derek, what you’d like to do, and I’ll call you tonight. We can talk then, after you’ve gotten used to the idea.”

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