The Sheikh's Virgin Bride. Penny Jordan

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СКАЧАТЬ closed, she pictured Lena the last time she’d seen her. The one-year-old was such a happy, bubbly child. All smiles and gurgles and bright blue eyes. With her mother’s pointed chin and her father’s black curly hair.

      Her father. Oh, God! Her father.

      Luke Callaghan.

      Swallowing the moan that tried to escape, Haley dug her hands into her sides. She had to tell Luke. Had to confirm what the DNA tests had already substantiated. He was Lena’s father. When she admitted that, she’d have to confess, too, that the blond waitress he knew as Daisy Parker was Lena’s mother.

      She cringed at the thought of having to explain to Luke the tangled web of lies and deceit she’d woven to protect herself and Lena, but every instinct told her he was now her only hope. Frank had warned her not to bring the feds when she delivered the ransom. He hadn’t said anything about the baby’s father.

      Her mind worked feverishly. Del Brio was ruthless and totally without conscience. He also exercised an extensive network of contacts. He’d known how to reach Haley here, in this supposedly secure haven. He’d probably get word within minutes if she left it and went to Lena’s father. He wouldn’t worry, though. If there was a chink in Del Brio’s armor, it was his arrogance. He wouldn’t doubt his ability to handle the combination of a terrified mother and a blind father.

      But could Haley handle it? After all this time, could she face the man who’d fathered her child? The man she’d loved as long as she could remember?

      She could.

      She had to!

      Spinning, she bolted for the front door. Sean followed hard on her heels.

      “Where are you going?”

      “To find Luke Callaghan.”

      “No way! You’re not setting foot outside this safe house.”

      “Safe?” Whirling, she leapt to the attack. “What’s safe about it? Frank knows where I am. He got through your command center’s elaborate electronic screens with one call. If he wanted to, he could probably order one of his goons to launch a shoulder-held missile from a mile away and put it through that window right now.”

      The fact that they both knew she was right didn’t lessen Sean’s bulldog stance. “We’ve made it this far together, Dai—Haley. Don’t give up on me now.”

      “I’m not giving up. I’ve just decided to play the game by Frank’s ground rules.” Icy resolve coated every word. “He wants two million dollars. As you pointed out, he’s not likely to hurt me or my child until I deliver it. And I do intend to deliver it. With Luke Callaghan.”

      “Christ! Callaghan’s a good man. A war hero, no less. But he can’t see a red flag waved two inches in front of his face.”

      A new ache pierced Haley’s heart, adding another layer to the hurt and guilt and fear she’d carried for so long. Seeing the pain on her face, Sean backpedaled gruffly.

      “Look, I’ll admit Callaghan has moved mountains to help us find Lena. Once DNA tests indicated that he was her father, he let us tap his phones. He offered to provide the ransom, when and if it was demanded. He even volunteered the theory that he was the source the kidnappers intended to milk right from the start. With all his millions, it was certainly a distinct possibility.”

      More than a possibility. Since Lena had been taken just days before Luke returned to Mission Creek, everyone on the task force initially suspected his vast wealth had sparked the kidnapping.

      “Callaghan also worked his own net,” the FBI agent conceded with a touch of grudging admiration. “He has more contacts than any six men I know. And not just in the government. He and those three buddies of his scoured more dives, bribed more drunks and coerced more lowlifes into spilling their guts than our entire task force. But he can’t—”

      “No buts,” Haley interjected swiftly, fiercely. “Luke Callaghan is Lena’s father. I can’t let him stand idly on the sidelines now while Frank Del Brio barters her for blood money.”

      Reaching for the door, she yanked it open. Sean’s big, beefy hand smacked hard against the wood panel.

      “Don’t try to stop me,” Haley hissed. “Don’t even think about trying to stop me. I’ve done everything you asked me to, Sean. All these months I risked my life to provide the information you wanted. I will not risk my child’s.”

      “All right!” Conceding defeat, the FBI operative nodded. “Hang loose a minute. I’ll have my people track Callaghan down for you.”

      Haley drove away from the farmhouse a few moments later, trailed by a dusty white van and armed with the 9 mm Glock that Sean had instructed one of his agents to hand over.

      She knew how to fire the handgun. She’d grown up in this patch of South Texas, on a sprawling acreage just outside Mission Creek. Indulged by her parents and spoiled shamefully by her older brother, Ricky, she’d spent most of her after-school hours in voice lessons, dance classes and giggling with her girlfriends as they checked out the hunks at the pool of the luxurious Lone Star Country Club. Ricky had taken her out to ping tin cans off fence poles often enough for Haley to know one end of a gun from another, though.

      Grimly, she locked her hands around the steering wheel and drove through the night. A million stars winked in the inky sky. The moon hung low, dazzling in its silver glow. Haley didn’t even spare it a glance.

      As promised, Sean had pinpointed Luke Callaghan’s present location. He was with one of his buddies. At the Saddlebag. The same watering hole where Haley had bumped into him two years ago, with such earth-shattering consequences.

      The irony of seeking Luke out at the Saddlebag ate into her soul. He hadn’t recognized her that hot July night two years ago. The London plastic surgeon who’d altered Haley’s face had more than earned his five thousand pounds. Luke wouldn’t recognize her tonight, either. Not just because he’d lost his sight, but because she’d all but crawled into the skin of the fictional Daisy Parker. No one—until Frank—had penetrated her cover.

      Although…

      Lately, Luke had been asking questions about the blond waitress with the thick-as-road-tar Texas twang. He’d even cornered her once at the Lone Star Country Club. He’d brushed his mouth across hers, as if testing his memory. He’d tested Haley’s nerves, as well. She’d shied away, refusing to admit she knew him.

      Now she’d not only admit that she knew him and that she’d had his baby, but she’d grovel at his feet if necessary to gain his help in reclaiming their child.

      Her mouth had settled into a determined line when she wheeled into the Saddlebag’s jam-packed parking lot some twenty minutes later and nosed her car into the narrow space between two pickups. The white van parked some yards away. At this point Haley couldn’t say whether the FBI’s watchful vigilance reassured her or added to the stress that crawled across her shoulder blades like a Texas scorpion.

      Her throat tight, she climbed out of the car. The Saddlebag hadn’t changed much in two years. The same wooden sign creaked in the breeze above the door. The same dim spotlights cast arcs of light against its gray, weathered siding. The same motel units were strung out behind the bar like plump, feathered hens roosting for the night. With a stab of acute pain, Haley wrenched СКАЧАТЬ