Double the Trouble. Maureen Child
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Название: Double the Trouble
Автор: Maureen Child
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Billionaires and Babies
isbn: 9781472049131
isbn:
“Rights?” Stunned, headache forgotten, she stared at him as the humiliation of the last time she’d seen him washed over her. “I absolutely had the right to do whatever I had to do to protect my kids.”
“From their father?”
“From anyone who might hurt them.”
His features went stone-still but his eyes were flashing. “And you think I’d hurt them?”
“Not physically, of course not,” she snapped. “But you walked away from me, remember? You’re the one who said you didn’t want to hear from me again. You’re the one who told me that the week we spent together was ‘fun’ but over. Not to mention when you added that the thought of kids gave you hives. Any of this ringing a bell?”
“All of it,” he said. “But I didn’t know you were pregnant, did I?”
“Neither did I.”
“Yeah, but you knew soon after and you didn’t tell me.”
“It wasn’t any of your business.”
He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “Not my business. I have two children and they’re none of my business.”
“I have two kids. You have nothing.”
“If that’s what you really think, you’re in for a surprise.”
He made the turn that would take him to her house and Penny frowned. “How do you know where I live?”
“Amazing what you can find out if you’re motivated.” He glanced at her, then shifted his gaze back to the shady, tree-lined street in front of him. “For example. I know your business is getting a slow start—switched from sports photography to babies—an interesting choice. I know you don’t have health insurance. And I know that you’re living in your grandmother’s cottage in Laguna.” He took a breath and continued. “Your brother’s engaged to Maria Estrada and is a general practice intern at Huntington Beach hospital. You’re living off your credit cards and your car is fifteen years old.” He spared her another look. “Did I miss anything?”
No, he hadn’t. In fact, Penny worried about what else he might have found out. He’d scratched the surface of her life, but just how deeply had he continued to dig?
“What gives you the right to pry, Colt?” She didn’t like the idea of her past being spread out for him to pick over. Didn’t like feeling as though she’d been exposed. “We spent one week together nearly two years ago.”
“And apparently,” he added, “we made two babies.” He pulled up in front of her house and parked. When he turned the engine off, he faced her and his eyes looked like chips of ice. “That gives me any right I want to claim.”
To avoid looking at him, she stared at the house she loved. A tiny Tudor with dark shutters and beams flat against cream-colored stucco and leaded windows that winked in the last lights of the sun. Ivy climbed along the porch railings and chrysanthemums bloomed dark yellow and purple in the front flower bed. The house was small and cozy and had always, even when she was a child, signified safety and warmth to Penny.
Now she looked at it and felt a sense of peace she desperately needed steal over her.
“I’m not going anywhere, Penny. Get used to it.”
Peace dissolved as a stir of heat erupted inside her again and Penny wanted to shriek with frustration. How could her body respond to a man her brain realized was nothing but trouble? She felt as if she’d been stripped bare in front of him. Her life was nothing more than a series of facts that he felt free to dissect in a cold, dispassionate speech.
But then, that was Colton’s way, wasn’t it? she reminded herself. Unemotional. Detached.
Distanced from any sort of real human contact, he kept his heart—if he had one—locked away behind a steel door that was, as far as she could tell, impenetrable.
Her voice was barely a whisper when she looked into his eyes and asked, “What exactly do you want, Colt?”
“That’s easy,” he said with a shrug. “I want what’s mine.”
A cold, tight fist closed around her heart as he got out of the car, slammed the door and walked around to her side. His? She knew he didn’t mean that he wanted her, so he was talking about her kids. Her babies. Fear coiled around her heart and made breathing almost impossible. But where she might try to run and hide to protect herself—to safeguard her children she was willing to walk into hell itself.
She watched him through the car window and when he opened her door to help her out, she looked into his eyes and said, “You can’t have them.”
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