Книга - Daddy’s Double Due Date

Daddy's Double Due Date
Belinda Barnes


Hunter Morgan incarcerated bad guys; he didn't cootchie-coo babies. But that was before a sperm bank snafu impregnated a stranger with his progeny. Now duty demanded he do right by Ashley Morgen and be the father fate had once denied him….Ashley refused to share her long-awaited twins with a total stranger, much less agree to wed him! She couldn't risk her already bruised heart–one loveless marriage had been one too many. But she couldn't deny the cherished feeling that overcame her when Hunter moved her under his roof to attend to her every need. And after their first kiss, Ashley couldn't help but hope that the stork would also deliver Hunter's love…









“Then it’s true. You really are my baby’s…”


“Father,” he said, wishing she would say the word.

Ashley crossed to a set of double doors opening onto a balcony, and Hunter followed her outside into the crisp night. She stood at the railing, rubbing her arms, and Hunter found himself wanting to hold her. “Should you be out in the cold?”

When she didn’t respond, he took her hand and turned her. “I’m not entirely heartless, despite popular opinion.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. The heartache and fear he saw there made him long to pull her into his arms and protect her. Which was stupid, because he would be shielding her from himself.

“This morning you mentioned wanting custody,” she whispered.

He knew he had, but now he found himself unable to bear the thought of hurting her. “Yes, but I’ve had a chance to think and wondered if we might reach a compromise….”


Dear Reader,

Have you started your spring cleaning yet? If not, we have a great motivational plan: For each chore you complete, reward yourself with one Silhouette Romance title! And with the standout selection we have this month, you’ll be finished reorganizing closets, steaming carpets and cleaning behind the refrigerator in record time!

Take a much-deserved break with the exciting new ROYALLY WED: THE MISSING HEIR title, In Pursuit of a Princess, by Donna Clayton. The search for the missing St. Michel heir leads an undercover princess straight into the arms of a charming prince. Then escape with Diane Pershing’s SOULMATES addition, Cassie’s Cowboy. Could the dreamy hero from her daughter’s bedtime stories be for real?

Lugged out and wiped down the patio furniture? Then you deserve a double treat with Cara Colter’s What Child Is This? and Belinda Barnes’s Daddy’s Double Due Date. In Colter’s tender tearjerker, a tiny stranger reunites a couple torn apart by tragedy. And in Barnes’s warm romance, a bachelor who isn’t the “cootchie-coo” type discovers he’s about to have twins!

You’re almost there! Once you’ve rounded up every last dust bunny, you’re really going to need some fun. In Terry Essig’s Before You Get to Baby… and Sharon De Vita’s A Family To Be, childhood friends discover that love was always right next door. De Vita’s series, SADDLE FALLS, moves back to Special Edition next month.

Even if you skip the spring cleaning this year, we hope you don’t miss our books. We promise, this is one project you’ll love doing.

Happy reading!






Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor




Daddy’s Double Due Date

Belinda Barnes







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To my darling husband for his endless support,

patience and encouragement…and for developing

a taste for bologna sandwiches.


Books by Belinda Barnes

Silhouette Romance

His Special Delivery #1491

The Littlest Wrangler #1527

Daddy’s Double Due Date #1587


BELINDA BARNES

A romantic at heart, 1999 Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart winner, Belinda Barnes grew up in Sand Springs, Oklahoma, on the banks of the Arkansas River, where she dreamed of faraway lands, castles and princes. Though Texas is not all that far away, it is there Belinda found her prince. Together in their two-story castle, they have raised two sons, a daughter and a menagerie of pets, including dogs, cats, tropical fish, turtles, hamsters and ferrets. With sons whose interests run the gamut from bull riding to racing cars and motorcycles, Belinda is more than ready for her daughter’s more sedate passions of dancing, singing and acting.

Belinda lives in Elm Mott, Texas, with her husband, her daughter and spoiled cat, Precious. In addition to fiction, she is published in magazine and book-length nonfiction. In her spare time she enjoys clogging, painting, reading, country-and-western music, dancing, fishing, scuba diving, camping and getting together with other writers.

Belinda loves to hear from readers. Write to her at P.O. Box 1165, Elm Mott, Texas 76640.










Contents


Chapter One (#u33fe5a69-832b-555a-99e1-6d1cecc48874)

Chapter Two (#u3b41ae5a-b49c-516f-a69e-cc442dd3506c)

Chapter Three (#u39ea96c1-0612-52e3-aded-dcb2c8e5f4bb)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


“Congratulations, Mr. Morgan. You’re going to be a father.”

Hunter Morgan clutched the phone in one hand, the steaming cup of coffee in the other paused halfway to his mouth. “Who is this?”

“The Spangler-Moore Fertility Clinic. The in vitro was a success.”

“Ma’am, this is Hunter Morgan. Who are you calling?”

“Did you say Hunter Morgan? The sperm donor for the in vitro?”

“No. My sperm was for an insemination on Lauren Ann Morgan, my sister-in-law,” he said. “This is her residence.”

“Insemination? Hold on. Let me check something. The pregnancy test is that of Laura Ashley Morgen. M-o-r-g-e-n.”

Hunter breathed a sigh of relief. “My sister-in-law is Lauren Ann Morgan. M-o-r-g-a-n. She saw her doctor this morning and is not pregnant.”

“Oh, I see what happened. The test results were inadvertently attached to your sister-in-law’s file, probably because of the name similarity. I apologize for having bothered you.”

When the dial tone buzzed in his ear, Hunter hung up. Yet the eerie feeling that had settled heavy in his gut remained.

“Who was that?” Jared asked from the doorway.

“Wrong number.” Hunter joined his brother and sister-in-law in the kitchen, hoping that’s all it had been—a wrong number.

Thank God he’d been in the living room near the phone. After the hell Jared and Lauren had gone through trying to conceive a child and then learning the insemination had failed, a mistake like that call could be emotionally devastating.

The phone call. Something about it made Hunter as uneasy as he’d been his first time before a judge, in his pre-attorney days. He tried to convince himself it was only a mix-up, nothing more than a clerical error. Despite his attempts to dismiss the conversation, parts of it kept coming back to him. The in vitro was a success. Hunter Morgan…the sperm donor for the in vitro?

Lauren hadn’t had an in vitro, but the other woman, Ms. Morgen with an “e,” had. And Hunter, the sperm donor, was the only common thread between the two.

Hunter knew from his own scrutiny of the clinic that an error was unlikely. Still, trouble had always had a way of finding him, even when he hadn’t deliberately gone looking for it. And he knew how conceiving a child could change the course of a man’s life. He couldn’t afford to be involved in another scandal. Not now. Not when he’d worked so hard to gain respect and finally had a shot at becoming the next district attorney, a surefire way of proving he’d changed and was no longer a hell-raiser. He had to investigate.

Hunter poured the remaining coffee down the drain and left his cup in the sink. “I need to pass on lunch.”

Lauren pulled lettuce and tomato from the refrigerator. “Do you want a sandwich to take with you?”

“No, thanks,” Hunter said, noticing Lauren’s slumped shoulders—the only outward sign of her anguish over once again failing to conceive. “I’m sorry. If you decide to try again—”

“We appreciate everything you’ve done. This whole ordeal has been very difficult.” Lauren turned away, but not before he saw the tears pooling in her eyes. “I don’t think we’ll try again for a while. I need some time away from the stress.”

“I understand.”

Jared pulled his wife to his side. “Hunter, you’ve been a good sport about this. It’s not your fault it didn’t work out.”

Then why did he feel responsible? Hunter thought. “I’d better be going.” He headed for the front door, wanting to get outside to draw a breath of fresh air, to get away from the pain etched in their faces. And the guilt threatening to choke him.

Hunter hurried to his pickup and backed down the long drive. He had to know if a stranger had been impregnated with his sperm. Ten minutes later he hurried inside the antiseptic-smelling fertility clinic where the receptionist flashed him a smile.

“I’m Hunter Morgan. Someone called me this morning about Laura Ashley Morgen. Do you know who it was?”

“No, sir, but I’ll see if I can find out.” She picked up the phone and punched in a number.

A moment later, a nurse he recognized hurried toward him. “Mr. Morgan, without a consent, I can’t discuss—”

“I received a call this morning indicating my sperm was used to impregnate a Laura Ashley Morgen. Is that true?”

The nurse’s brows puckered behind her wire-frame glasses. “Wasn’t your sperm designated solely for your sister-in-law?”

“Yes, but what about the call this morning? I want to see documentation ensuring my sperm didn’t go to this other woman.”

“We use a double-check system. A mix-up is virtually impossible.” Opening a folder on the reception desk, the nurse scanned its contents. Her eyes grew wide, then wider still.

Hunter moved closer, his fears confirmed. He muttered a curse and ripped out the page containing his name from the file. Anger shot through him, swift and hot, followed immediately by a rush of painful memories he refused to think about now. He crushed the paper in his fist.

The nurse grabbed for the sheet. “Give me that.”

“Not a chance.”

“I know you’re upset about this. So am I. We’ve worked hard to develop a foolproof system. Something like this shouldn’t happen. I intend to do a thorough investigation. When I find the person responsible, they’ll be fired. I’m sorry about this, but you can’t take that page. It’s confidential. Surely you understand—”

“Lady,” he said, struggling to maintain what little control he had left, “right now this record is the least of your worries. I want to know how this happened and what you plan to do to prevent a recurrence. Give me answers or I’ll shut you down.”

“What about the good we do for so many couples?”

He met her gaze. “It’ll be up to a judge to decide whether this is an isolated case of negligence or common practice and if the potential for harm outweighs the good.” Hunter turned on his heel and stormed from the building, not slowing until he reached his truck. He yanked the door open and dropped onto the leather seat, remembering another day fifteen years ago when he’d learned he was going to be a father. The painful memories of what had followed ripped through him. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. The sound of paper crumpling drew his attention to the sheet still clutched in his hand. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the cab of his truck. He inhaled three deep breaths until the ache in his chest began to subside.

A baby. Speculating over how it had happened wouldn’t change the fact that Hunter was going to be a father. Last time he’d been too young and had no say in his child’s future or his own. This time, things would be different. He knew nothing about the woman who carried his child except her name, but by sunset he would know everything.

Hunter pulled the cell phone from his pocket and dialed. His secretary answered on the second ring. “Dianne, I need information on a woman ASAP.”

She laughed. “Is this personal or business?”

“Personal, but it’s not what you think.”

“Too bad. What’s her name?”

“Laura Ashley Morgen with an ‘e.’ She may live in Hale.”

“Do you want a partial or full report?”

“Everything you can find.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Dianne said.

“Great. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Something’s come up. Can you clear my calendar for the rest of today?”

“It’s done. Do you want me to cancel your meeting with that Johnson boy and the high school counselor or reschedule?”

“Go ahead and reschedule as soon as I have an opening. That kid is headed for trouble unless we can get him to find a new set of friends.”

“If anyone can reach him, you can.”

“Thanks. I wish I felt that confident.”

“Who is this Laura Ashley Morgen?”

He considered her question. Dianne had a penchant for being nosey, but this was personal. “You tell me.”

Back at his office, Hunter spent the next six hours thinking about the situation. Even though he’d had nothing to do with the clinic error, he knew everyone, including his family, would fear he had gone back to his old ways of drinking and carousing. Given his past, he really couldn’t blame them. He couldn’t expect them to believe those days were over. Forever.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbed his burning eyes with his thumb and forefinger, then reread the clinic’s report for the twentieth time. Patient: Laura Ashley Morgen. Sperm donor: Hunter Morgan. He punched in his brother’s speed dial number, needing to talk to the one person who would shoot straight without judging him. But after realizing how news of the baby would hurt Jared, Hunter hung up.

He scanned the report Dianne had given him as she’d left for the day. Since moving to Hale a year ago, Ashley Morgen had been employed at Barnett & Williams. How ironic she should work for the defense firm that opposed him on most cases. Fate obviously had a cruel sense of humor. His gaze skimmed over the information. He paused. Dread knotted his gut. His heart raced. He held his breath and glanced at it once more. Marital status: single.

A sick feeling replaced the knot in his stomach. He scrubbed a hand over his face and swore. Events from his past rushed at him. There hadn’t been a day in the last fifteen years when he hadn’t mourned the loss of his unborn baby. He’d been the only one to grieve, a fact that had irreparably stretched his already-strained relationship with his father to the breaking point. Hunter had never been able to be the perfect son his dad had wanted. By the time Hunter had become a teenager, he’d given up trying to please his dad and turned rebellious. He’d done things to annoy his dad like spinning his tires in front of Buck’s law office. He’d even tried to outrun the police once. It all seemed so long ago.

Now, despite Hunter’s diligence to use protection, he had fathered a child with a woman he’d never met. A single woman who would likely have to struggle to get by. A woman who, without regard for the hell she would put him through, had made him a father, when that was something he hadn’t thought he would ever be ready to endure again. Especially not now when he still awoke sometimes at night with tears in his eyes over the child he had never had a chance to hold.

When Hunter had agreed to let his brother raise any child resulting from Lauren’s fertilization, it was because he’d known they would take great care of the baby. But more than that, he couldn’t bear to see his brother suffering the same want of a child that would never be. Even though donating his sperm would make him an uncle, godfather and part of the family, the decision had been much more difficult than he’d expected. But this situation was entirely different. He knew nothing about this woman, except for a few impersonal facts. Hunter had made a hell of a lot of mistakes in his life. He wouldn’t make another. Not when an innocent child was involved. His unborn child.

Ms. Morgen wouldn’t like his interference. By this time tomorrow, she would likely hate him. Hell, if the situation were reversed, he would pull together a brutal team of lawyers who would go for the jugular. But the clinic had set things in motion when they’d used Hunter’s sperm without his knowledge. If he was more like his father, he would put his feelings on hold and view this as an inconvenience. But he wasn’t like his father.

Fifteen years ago, he’d been way too young. A kid who had no say in his future much less a child’s. Back then he could only watch as his and Courtney’s parents had decided what was best. Hunter’s father had even prepared voluntary relinquishment papers for Hunter and Courtney to sign. Now Hunter was a grown man who knew that sometimes all the medical technology in the world couldn’t stop a woman from miscarrying. This time he would have a say. This time his father couldn’t force him to sign relinquishment papers. He would go to any length to see that this stranger safely delivered his child. Then he would get custody because unlike his father, Hunter intended to be there for his child.

Tomorrow he would pay Laura Ashley Morgen a visit. She needed to know he wouldn’t walk away from the child he had fathered.

Despite not wanting to take a child from its mother, he intended to have a say in any decision involving his child. The only way to make sure that happened was to seek full custody. He didn’t want to hurt this woman, but this time he would take care of his baby.

He had lost one when Courtney had miscarried their child in her fourth month. He wouldn’t lose another.

“I’m Hunter Morgan. I’m the father of your baby.”

Laura Ashley Morgen stared at the man she recognized as the assistant district attorney. She couldn’t think, couldn’t accept what he had just said. No one but the clinic knew she was pregnant. “No,” she said as a wave of dizziness made the room spin.

“Aw, hell. I knew I should have waited and talked to you at home tonight, but was anxious and afraid you’d run if you learned what had happened at the clinic.” Hunter swept Ashley up into his strong arms, despite her protests, and settled her in a conference room chair. He pushed her hair back and gave her a searching look with blue eyes that seemed to see into her soul, then he frowned as if not liking what he saw there. “Talk to me, Laura. Are you okay?”

Without waiting for her answer, he scooped ice into a plastic cup and filled it with water from a beverage tray she’d earlier carried into the conference room.

Recovering from the shock of his words, Ashley realized just how close Hunter Morgan stood and what he had called her. “Ashley,” she managed to say. “I go by Ashley.”

He nodded, then pressed the cup to her lips. “Drink this.”

Ashley sipped, not that he gave her much choice as he tipped the cup. Once the room stopped turning, she pulled away and drew a shaky breath, noticing that what she’d initially thought was anger in his eyes had been quickly replaced by concern.

His sudden lack of arrogance surprised her almost as much as the claim he’d made. She didn’t know a lot about Hunter Morgan, but hadn’t thought him the type to go out of his way for others. Even more surprising was her noticing something personal about the man she’d come to think of as aggressive, condescending, and disagreeable. And those were his good qualities.

He stared down at her hands clasped tightly over her abdomen, her child. Their eyes met and held when he touched the frosty container to her temple. Then he pushed her bangs back and eased the cup across her forehead, the condensation wetting her skin. His tender care was in direct opposition to the determined man she’d seen in action. “Feeling better?”

Ashley captured the hand holding the water and moved it aside. Somewhat off-balance by his nearness and her own confusing reaction, she responded with a nod. Still, she found herself unable to look away from the big man dressed in a dark suit that strained against his shoulders, the same shoulders that now blocked her view. “I—I just found out yesterday. That information is confidential. How could you possibly know?”

“The clinic made a mistake,” he said, as if that should explain it all. “They called me first because your test results were attached to my sister-in-law’s chart.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I have proof that they fertilized your eggs with my sperm.”

“But I talked with the clinic at length before deciding to go there. I can’t believe this happened.”

“They’re investigating now. Believe me, by the time I’m done with them, they’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” When Hunter offered her another drink, Ashley declined with a shake of her head. She noticed the tiny lines fanning outward from the corners of his blue eyes, eyes that made it hard to concentrate.

He placed the water on the tray, his movements sure and confident. “What happened isn’t my fault or yours, but there’s a baby involved. My baby. That’s why I’m here.”

Not liking the turn of the conversation, Ashley pushed from the chair, disregarding the hand he offered to steady her. The initial panic, which had caused the room to tilt, hadn’t eased much, but she refused to let him walk in and start issuing orders the way he did on legal matters. This involved her child. “I don’t know what this is all about or what you expect to accomplish, but you’re wasting your time. You have no right to this child. It’s mine. All mine. Only mine.”

He gave no outward reaction to her statement, but studied her for a long moment with crystalline eyes that made her uncomfortable. “I can prove I’m the father.” He ran his hand along his jaw, his whisker stubble making a rasping sound. “I don’t want to make this any more difficult on you than it has to be, but Texas law gives me certain rights. I want custody.”

Ashley’s knees almost buckled. “No. This is my child. If it’s money you want, then I can pay you for your…services.”

He watched her, his gaze intent. “You think I want your money? Lady, I’m the Kern County assistant district attorney.”

She returned his glare. “I know exactly who you are.”

“Morgan, I thought I heard you.” Ashley’s boss, Richard Williams, lumbered across the conference room’s plush carpet to face Hunter Morgan. “Is there a problem here?”

Ashley froze, unable to do anything but wait to see what, if anything, the assistant D.A. intended to say.

Hunter glanced at her. “Problem? No. Ashley and I were having a friendly disagreement over a common interest.”

Mr. Williams warned Ashley with a cutting look before turning his attention back to Hunter. “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to discuss the Thompson case.”

Without missing a beat, Hunter slipped into his prosecutor persona. “All right.”

“Have a seat, and I’ll get my client. I was going over with him what to expect at tomorrow’s arraignment,” Mr. Williams said.

When Ashley tried to follow her boss from the conference room, Hunter caught her arm, his hold firm, but gentle.

Once assured Mr. Williams wasn’t waiting outside the door, Ashley glanced at the long fingers that held her, then met Hunter’s frown with one of her own. “If I want to keep my job—and I do—then I need to get back to work.”

“We’ll continue this conversation over dinner tonight.”

Ashley checked the urge to chew on her bottom lip. She met his gaze, pleased she accomplished the feat without flinching. Father indeed. What proof could he possibly have? Under other circumstances, being assistant district attorney would give him a lot of bargaining power. But not for her child. Never for her child. “I’m busy.”

“Tomorrow at lunch, then?”

“I already have plans.”

His jaw tightened. “Tomorrow night?”

She tugged her arm free, rubbing the spot that still burned from his touch. “I can’t. If you’ll excuse me.”

“It doesn’t end here, Ashley. I won’t go away. Either agree to meet me, so we can do this nicely,” he said, the underlying threat in his voice letting her know nice was the last thing he intended to be. “Or, refuse, and we can engage in a custody battle in court with the entire world watching our lives being dissected, detail by ugly detail. Which do you want? It’s your call.” The flames leaping into his eyes blazed blue.

Ashley knew that no matter her decision, he would play to win. But so would she. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to do either. All I’ve ever wanted is a baby, this baby. You, the father—if that’s true—were never supposed to be in the picture.”

“But I am very much in the picture. I can prove I’m the father. I won’t go away until this is settled.”

“I refuse to enter into a tug-of-war over my child.”

“My child.” He gave her another nothing-will-get-in-my-way look. “We have a lot to discuss. I’ll grab take-out and be at your place tonight at seven.”

She raised her chin. “But—”

“Be there.”

“No, not my apartment. I’d rather meet somewhere public.”

“That’s why I came here today. I didn’t think you’d let me in if I just showed up at your apartment. Meeting in a public place is fine with me so long as you’re not concerned about being seen with me after hours?”

Ashley frowned. He had her, blast it, and from his sudden smile, he knew it. “All right. We’ll meet at my apartment,” she muttered between clenched teeth as her boss and his spit-shined client entered the room.

Exercising the rigid control he was known for, Hunter nodded, then moved to take a seat at the heavy mahogany table as if they had merely exchanged pleasantries. He accepted and glanced through a stack of papers, his hands steady, his thoughts seemingly focused, while Ashley fought sudden tears.

Leaving the room, she closed the door and leaned back. Her heart hammered. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her stomach where her baby lay nestled, safe from harm. At least for now.

Yesterday after receiving confirmation of her pregnancy, she’d been the happiest woman in the world. Now that same world crumbled around her. All because a man with eyes that discerned far too much, thought his rights outweighed hers. How appropriate he was a lawyer. A prosecutor at that. What luck.

She remembered how it had felt to be lifted in his arms as if she weighed nothing, how he had held her close, made her think for a brief moment he might really care. Well, she wasn’t buying it and refused to be sweet-talked or intimidated. Not again. It would take more than some testosterone-ridden attorney with shoulders as wide as the Palo Duro Canyon to distract her.

Determined to put a stop to whatever Mr. Morgan planned, Ashley pushed away from the door and hurried to her office. She needed to confirm whether Hunter Morgan had in fact fathered her child, though it didn’t seem likely he would make such a claim if it wasn’t true. Still, her marriage to a lawyer had taught her anyone was capable of lying. Even a man sworn to uphold justice.

Ashley had once been incredibly naive. She hadn’t known any better than to believe in love, marriage and happily-ever-after. But that was then and this was now. She’d learned her lesson the hard way and had paid a high price for her gullibility. Never again would she trust a man or give one control over her life. Especially a lawyer.

And God help anyone, prosecutor or otherwise, who tried to take her child.




Chapter Two


“What was going on between you and Hunter Morgan?”

Ashley’s fingers tightened around the envelope she had sealed. She glanced up to find her boss leaning against her office door frame, his gaze watchful.

What she wouldn’t give to wring the neck of the man who had caused her current predicament—the assistant district attorney in question. Of course, she would have to get a stepladder to reach that high, but the very thought of doing just that helped her remain calm. She even managed an almost genuine smile. “Mr. Morgan mistakenly thought he might have left a file here last Friday when you two met to discuss the Smither’s case.”

Her boss scratched his chin, his expression skeptical. “Is that all? I could have sworn you two were arguing.”

“Arguing? Us? No. He mentioned that new restaurant over by the courthouse and asked if I could recommend something. Only he didn’t like my idea of soup and salad bar.” Ashley chastised herself for coming up with such a lame excuse. Every attorney and secretary within walking distance had already made the new café a lunchtime habit. She even went once a week. But she hadn’t seen the prosecutor there and could only hope the same held true for her boss.

Mr. Williams didn’t look as if he believed her, and Ashley decided she had better leave before he asked anything else. Not that she would be able to answer. The lie she’d just told stuck in her throat like a runaway peppermint lodged sideways, one more thing she blamed on Hunter Morgan.

Ashley pushed to her feet and retrieved her coat. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be going home,” she said, lifting her purse and making her way past her boss.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She wanted nothing more than to run, but forced herself to turn back. “What’s that?”

He lifted a stack of envelopes from the corner of her desk and handed them to her. “The mail.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Sticking the outgoing mail under her arm, Ashley hurried down the hall and around the corner. She needed to get away before her remaining composure shattered.

Steps sounded behind her as she reached the front door. “Let me remind you of our confidentiality policy. Getting involved with Hunter Morgan or anyone from another law firm would be a breach of office policy and reason for immediate dismissal.”

Ashley drew a steadying breath and faced him. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’ve never seen Mr. Morgan outside this office.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” With that Williams spun and marched toward his office.

When he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Ashley leaned against the door for support. As much as she hated facing Hunter Morgan, it couldn’t be put off. Another unexpected visit like today’s and she might lose her job.

Already two hours late for their meeting, Ashley hurried outside into the drizzling rain. Enclosed in darkness, she skirted the deepest puddles as she crossed the parking lot where a lone streetlight cast enough glow for her to unlock her compact car. Hunter Morgan had probably given up hours earlier. But this couldn’t wait. If she could find his home number in the phone book, she would call him and put an end to any notions he had of being a father to her child.

Pulling from the lot, she couldn’t help but wonder about his plans. Not that she wanted any part of them…or him for that matter. Been there. Done that. After six years of marriage during which she’d been unable to conceive, including one in vitro attempt, her husband had divorced her for the secretary he’d gotten pregnant. This same man who’d sworn to uphold justice had used his connection with the judge to make sure Ashley left town with only a small settlement, custody of her frozen ovum, and not much of her heart or pride left intact.

Since moving to Hale, she’d found a job and wanted to make a new life for herself and maybe one day a child. Now, having been added to the firm’s health insurance, she had decided the time was right. Her eggs weren’t getting any younger, and neither was she. The first installment of the meager divorce settlement had been enough to have her eggs fertilized with donor sperm and implanted. Unless her financial status changed drastically, this could well be her last chance.

She cupped one palm over her infant, safe and sound inside her still-flat stomach. No one—neither man nor lawyer—would take advantage of her again. She had let it happen once.

Now a child was involved. An innocent baby. Her baby.

If Hunter Morgan wanted a fight, she would give him one.

“You’re two hours late,” Hunter snapped, cursing himself the minute he growled the accusation.

With a startled gasp, Ashley looked up. Her hand gripped the apartment railing as if to steady herself. She frowned, then continued climbing the few remaining steps to the second floor landing.

“Good to see you, too,” she said, moving toward her door. “Sorry I’m late. Mr. Williams didn’t mention until after five o’clock that he needed me to stay to get something out. I tried calling your office as soon as I knew, but no one answered.”

Hunter wasn’t sure he believed her. She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to be around him. Not that he could blame her. At their meeting this afternoon he had all but threatened her, treated her as if she were no better than the accused felons he dealt with. Afterward, he had felt lower than a snake and had promised himself he would remember she was a woman—a pregnant woman. A pregnant woman carrying his child. That meant he had to get a firm hold on his temper and treat her like a lady. If their exchange thus far was any indication, he had forgotten how to do both.

Pushing off the steps where he had waited the past two hours, Hunter held out a sack containing two cold cheese-burgers and fries. “I came on kind of strong this afternoon and brought a peace offering,” he said, giving her what he hoped was a sincere smile. It had been so long since he’d had a reason to grin, the movement seemed rusty, forced, and totally wrong. It probably looked as dumb as it felt.

She walked toward her apartment and revealed her surprise at his token apology only in the slight widening of her brown eyes lined with dark smudges of fatigue.

Knowing what he had to do didn’t make him feel any better. Going up against a criminal represented by legal counsel was something Hunter did every day, something at which he excelled, something he loved. But taking on a slip of a woman didn’t sit well with him. And something about this particular woman bothered him more than it should. It had to be her innocent vulnerability. Or maybe the way she had placed her hand over her stomach as if to protect his child…from him.

Her attempt to keep him from his child—same as his father had done fifteen years ago by forcing him to sign relinquishment papers—had frustrated him. But her gesture to safeguard their baby had also endeared her to him, making him question whether suing for custody was really best.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

She shook her head, wariness clearly visible in the way her hand trembled as she tried to put her key in the lock. “No, I came straight from work.”

“I know it’s late, but I’d like to resolve this tonight.”

After her two unsuccessful attempts to open the door, Hunter reached over her shoulder. Her cold fingers convulsed beneath his, but she finally surrendered her keys.

Hunter unlocked and opened the door, already worrying about how she would respond to his demands. He didn’t want to upset her but couldn’t stand the pain of losing another child.

The chronic self-doubts that had plagued him since meeting Ashley earlier that day made no more sense than the other things he had observed about her. Things he had no business noticing. She wasn’t a criminal, and he wasn’t acting in an official capacity. She was only a woman who had become a victim of circumstance. And he was only a man. Maybe that was the problem. When had he last been Hunter Morgan, the man and not the assistant district attorney? When had he last been with a woman who smelled so good, someone who made him realize how long it had been? Obviously, too damned long.

Ashley stepped inside and flipped on the light. “Come in.”

In the cramped entryway a miniature flute-shaped vase filled with tiny pink flowers sat on a small half-moon table. Prim and proper. Delicate. Like the woman.

He noticed the way she arched her back as if easing the kinks from sitting long hours at a computer. “You look beat.”

“I am, but I don’t want to put this off.”

“I won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes. I’ll heat the burgers and we’ll talk while you eat.” He refused to acknowledge the connection he’d felt with her when she’d earlier tried to guard his child. He hadn’t felt anything like that…ever. He tried to push the thought from his mind. Thinking about it might convince him to go away, leave her in peace, forget he was going to be a father, something he couldn’t do. He dreaded what he was about to say to her, because it would be irrefutable evidence that he truly was the ruthless bastard everyone believed.

She tried to hide a yawn behind her hand, then glanced once more at the sack. “We were so busy, I didn’t get lunch either and, even cold, food of any kind sounds beyond great. Thank you, Mr. Morgan, for bringing dinner.”

“Hunter,” he said. “Call me Hunter.”

Ashley studied his face a long moment as if trying to read him. “All right, Hunter. Let’s eat. You can have your say, then I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

Her willingness, even eagerness to talk, came as a surprise. He would do his best to get this over with fast, because she looked as if she was about to collapse. He might be hard-nosed, but he wasn’t totally without feelings. Odd that it should be this woman who reminded him of that.

Her obvious exhaustion made him wonder if maybe he should let her off the hook tonight and reschedule their meeting. But something he couldn’t grasp pushed him to settle things. If he didn’t know better, he would think it was fear. Fear that even though he had legal rights, she would turn this into a nasty, prolonged custody battle that would keep him from his child. Fear that she might disappear without a trace or miscarry as had happened before.

Ashley directed him to a too-small kitchen decorated with bright sunflowers while she pulled her arms from her coat and tossed it over a chair. “How much do I owe you for dinner?”

He found the microwave in a corner and popped the bag and all inside. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ashley dug in her purse, then stuffed a five-dollar bill into his jacket pocket. “That should cover it.” She turned on her heel and opened an overhead cabinet.

When she stretched on tiptoe to reach the glasses, Hunter moved behind her. “Here, let me get those for you.”

She spun around and pressed against him in all the wrong places. Damned if it didn’t feel right.

He lowered his arms on either side of her, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest as he settled the glasses on the counter behind her. Her scent, a unique blend of sensuality and wholesomeness, swirled around him. She smelled damned good.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with luminous eyes which mirrored her perception and wariness.

Realizing she had said something, he asked, “What?”

“The microwave,” she said, her voice unsteady, little more than a whisper. When he continued to stare at her, she pointed behind him. “It dinged.”

“Yes, I heard it.” He hadn’t, but wasn’t about to tell her. In fact, he had been so engrossed in her mouth Hunter doubted he would have heard the civil defense sirens. With one last glance at her enticing lips, he forced himself to step away.

“I hope water is okay,” Ashley said. Without waiting for his answer, she opened the refrigerator and leaned forward to fill two glasses from a plastic jug.

“Water’s fine.” He tried to ignore the way her skirt hugged her slender hips and backside, but failed. Miserably. Yes, he needed water. Lots of water to put out the still-smoldering flames of desire she had ignited earlier when he’d held her in his arms. Again he wondered what it was that attracted him to this particular woman? What aroused him, had him acting like an awkward teenager on his first date? Hell, she wasn’t even his type. At six feet two inches, he preferred tall, leggy blondes who reached his shoulders. Ashley didn’t come close. And her hair was auburn, not blond. Not that it mattered.

Her shoulder-length hair and wraithlike stature had nothing to do with why he had waited two hours on the steps, sheltered from the pouring rain. He had come for one reason—to claim his child. It was time he put his libido under lock and key and got down to business. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a pretty face. Yeah, Ashley Morgen was pretty, more than pretty. He’d spent a lot of time with beautiful women, but he had no idea what to do with one pregnant with his baby.

Calling on every ounce of discipline, he withdrew the sack from the microwave and followed Ashley to a flowered couch in a cracker-box living room that fit her perfectly. It made him feel clumsy and out of place.

When she arched her back again, he asked, “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” she muttered, putting their drinks on the coffee table. “My boss suspects something is going on between you and me. When I tried to leave, he reminded me having anything to do with you is a breach of confidentiality. He’s right, you know.”

“It’s only a breach if we talk about cases. Since that’s not why I came, there’s no problem. If you’re concerned about appearances, we could go somewhere else.”

“No. I can’t afford for us to be seen together at night.”

He fought the urge to smile, knowing it would probably earn him another of her frowns. “Because people would assume we were seeing each other.”

“Exactly,” she said, eyes flashing. “And I’d be fired.”

“Not unless Williams can prove you divulged client secrets.”

“You’re a defense firm’s sworn enemy.”

Hunter grimaced as he dug a burger from the sack and put it on the paper plate she handed him. “Enemy, huh?” If only he could see her as his enemy. Maybe then he would stop noticing things about her, things like the way her whiskey-colored eyes reflected her every thought, her every emotion. Somehow the idea of spending time with her didn’t seem all that wrong to him.

She bit into a fry, closed her eyes and moaned, then licked the salt from her lips. “I didn’t realize I was this hungry.”

Tearing his gaze from her mouth, Hunter’s thoughts scattered as he stared at the contours of one shapely leg revealed below the hem of her navy blue skirt. “You can’t worry about what other people think,” he said. “Once word gets out you’re having my baby, everyone will assume…”

“Assume?” she asked, watching him intently.

“That we’ve been lovers,” he said, wondering why he found the thought of them making love so intriguing.

She stopped in midchew. “That’s absurd.”

He did smile then. It was her panicked expression. “Is it? How do you intend to convince the entire town that we didn’t—That we haven’t—”

“No one is going to know who fathered my baby.” She settled her plate on the coffee table and turned to face him. “I called the clinic after your visit today. They refused to identify the sperm donor. So, you can see how futile it would be to continue to claim that you’re the father.”

Hunter withdrew the lone page from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. “The clinic manager called me after discovering how the mix-up occurred. It seems the initial collection container is labeled with a computer-generated number. But afterward, when the sperm goes to the lab techs for storage, they are responsible for transferring the identifying numbers onto the individual vials. One of their lab techs transposed two numbers. Since they must sign off on every step of the entire process, they were able to identify which worker did it. I’ve been assured that he has been fired.”

“I don’t understand why they didn’t tell me all this.”

“Initially, I imagine they were scrambling to discover how this all happened. When the clinic manager called me to explain what they’d found, I told her I was on my way to see you and would tell you myself. She may call you anyway to cover the clinic in case you decide to bring charges.”

“Are you going to sue?”

He had intended to, but now he wasn’t sure about a lot of things, including why he suddenly felt suing for custody wasn’t best. “I haven’t decided. The clinic has implemented a new system where they will print additional labels to remain with the initial collection and be used on the storage vials.”

“I’m glad they took steps to keep it from happening again.” Ashley unfolded the paper and read, pausing once to glance at him. “Where did you get this?”

He heard the tremor in her voice and knew how difficult this had to be for her. Still, this was his child, too. “I took it from your chart yesterday. I figured you would demand proof.”

She looked once more from him to the single sheet and back again, visibly shaken. “Then it’s true.” She swallowed hard. “You really are my baby’s…my baby’s…”

“Father,” he said, wishing she would say the word.

Dropping the paper, Ashley rose and crossed to a set of double doors opening onto a balcony.

Hunter retrieved the sheet and tucked it inside his pocket before following her outside into the crisp March night. She stood at the railing, rubbing her arms. The rain had finally stopped. The air smelled fresh and clean as it cloaked them in a bone-chilling dampness, and Hunter found himself wanting to hold her. “Should you be outside in the cold?”

When she didn’t respond, he took her hand and turned her. “I’m sure what you’re imagining is horrible. I’m not entirely heartless, despite popular opinion.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. The heartache and fear he saw there made him long to pull her in his arms and protect her. Which was stupid, because he would be shielding her from himself.

“This morning you mentioned wanting custody.”

He knew he had, but now found himself unable to bear the thought of hurting her. “Yes, but I’ve had a chance to think since then and wondered if we might reach a compromise. I want to help raise this child, Ashley. I would be willing to give you money each month to help out.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, stepping back, away from his touch.

“Hear me out,” he said, holding up a hand.

He tried to gauge her reaction to what he had said so far. She didn’t say anything more, but didn’t move either, so he took that as a good sign. “Joint custody.”

Ashley crossed her arms over her midsection in a defensive gesture, the same way she had done earlier. “No.”

He doubted her spine could get any more rigid and hated upsetting her like this. Still, he couldn’t back down. “The baby would live with you for six months and with me six.”

“No.” Her eyes bore into him. “I won’t give up my child.”

The tremor in Ashley’s voice revealed her slipping control, and he hated himself for what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the child he had lost. “I’m not asking you to give up the child exactly. I want to spend time with my baby. I want a chance to be a father.”

She lifted her chin in a defiant gesture. “I’ll tell the baby about you when it’s older.”

“When would that be?”

“I don’t know. Later.” She watched Hunter as if trying to read him, but he schooled his features, unwilling to let her see how much she affected him.

Before she had miscarried, the mother of his first child had been coerced by their parents into deciding it would be best to give the baby up for adoption. Yet Ashley stood firm, ready to fight to protect her child. Their child.

“Can’t you understand? This baby means more to me than anything. I’m sorry, Hunter, but I can’t do what you’re asking.”

“Can’t or won’t?” He didn’t understand the sudden heaviness in his chest or his need to touch her, comfort her. When he saw her shiver, he moved closer to encourage Ashley back through the double doors. With his hand at her spine, he steered her to the sofa. What he really wanted was to pull her into his arms and hold her, and that didn’t make any sense. “I didn’t come here to argue or upset you. Being a single woman, I’m sure you realize having a child will be financially draining. I want to make it easier on you. I’m offering to help.”

“I’m not stupid, Hunter. You and I both know you’re not thinking of me. You want to buy this child, but you can’t,” she said, lowering herself onto the couch. “I won’t let you.”

“Why? Isn’t that exactly what you did?”

She flinched.

Hunter cursed himself.

“It isn’t the same,” she said, jutting her chin out, “and you know it. These are precisely the kind of problems I had hoped to avoid by requesting an anonymous donor.”

Hunter felt like a jerk, but he’d already lost one child. Now, the future of this child was at stake. Later he would find a way to make amends once Ashley had agreed to his terms. “My sperm was intended to go to Lauren, my sister-in-law, but it was used to impregnate you. That makes me your child’s father.”

“Did Lauren conceive?”

Under the circumstances it was probably a blessing she hadn’t. “No. My brother has a low sperm count and they thought that was the problem. Now, I don’t know what to think.”

“I’m sorry.” Ashley’s gaze met his. “If she had, would you have shared custody? What would your role have been?”

Hunter knew where she was leading and stopped short of smiling at her cunning. “I would have been Uncle Hunter, but it would have been different, because I’d have seen the baby every day. I’d have known he or she was being well cared for and if the child needed me, I’d have been there.” And it possibly would have proven that he was no longer selfish and self-absorbed, contrary to his father’s belief.

Ashley took a drink from her water glass and returned it to the coffee table. “I don’t think I could stand by and watch someone else raise my child.”

He had thought he could, because he would have done it out of love for his brother. Now, he realized how painful it would have been to watch someone else raising his child, a child he would never be able to claim. “Then you understand my position.”

“I do, but this baby is everything to me. It may very well be my last chance. I can’t—I won’t let you take this child from me.” She stared at him, then clenched her eyes shut as if struggling for composure.

He knelt beside the sofa and placed his hand over her abdomen, ignoring the way her eyes shot open and the sudden look of panic that crossed her face. “I may not have been in your bed at the time of conception, but I am this baby’s father in every sense of the word. I could talk for hours about my rights as a father that every court in Texas would enforce, no matter how much you might want it to be otherwise. But I won’t. You said this could be your last chance. It could very well be mine, too, and I want to be there for my child.”

She moved his hand to the sofa cushion. “Children are for loving. They’re for holding and kissing day in and day out. You can’t make a family six months out of the year.”

“People do it all the time.”

“Not with my child. That sort of uprooting is confusing. I don’t care who or what you are, I won’t subject my baby to that. And if you really cared about him or her, you wouldn’t either.”

He hated to admit it, but she was right. “I do care.”

“No, Hunter, I don’t think you do.” She stood. “And I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “We haven’t resolved this.”

“I have nothing else to say to you.”

“Will you at least think about what I’ve said? I admit that a child needs a mother, but he or she will need a father, too. Let me assume that responsibility. Let me be a father to my child.”

Her sudden anger caught him off-guard as she marched around him to the front door. “Is that what you see this as? A responsibility? What about love?”

“This is my child. He or she would never have reason to doubt my love.”

“Will that be enough?” she asked, opening her apartment door in silent invitation for him to leave.

He walked toward her. “I don’t know, but neither do you.”

She stared at him, giving no clue as to her thoughts.

When she remained silent, he paused in the doorway, dug out the five dollars she’d earlier pushed into his pocket and pressed it into the center of the pink bouquet on the table. “Dinner was on me.” Then he left, waiting outside until he heard her throw the dead bolt on the door. He hated leaving with things still unresolved, but doubted he would make any more headway tonight.

Okay, maybe things hadn’t gone so well, but she hadn’t slapped him. Actually, she had reacted far better than he’d expected. Far better than he would have had the tables been turned.

All things considered, the fact she had talked to him at all gave him hope. And there was still time. Tomorrow, after she had calmed down, he would talk with her again.

Hunter scratched his jaw as he strode to his pickup. While at his office that afternoon he had searched for case law to support his claim. He’d ignored the ringing phone and admitted she might have tried to call him. His time had been well spent as he had found five Texas Supreme Court decisions issued on appeal which left little doubt about a father’s rights—his rights. Odd that after finding cases to support his claim, he hadn’t used the information. Though he didn’t understand it, he chalked it up to the strain of reliving past events, events he’d tried to forget, but never had.

He unlocked his truck and slid inside. With time, he believed she would come around. She was obviously an intelligent woman who would eventually see he asked for nothing more than what was mandated by the courts.

Part of his job as prosecutor was to read people’s reactions to certain events and then judge their guilt or innocence. Tonight, he had handled things badly and come on way too strong. Ashley had responded to his demands with fear and anger, which had kept her from using her head and being rational. Tomorrow, he would keep the prosecutor part of him under wraps, voice his terms in a nonthreatening manner and do everything possible to keep her from throwing up her guard. Maybe then they could talk things out and come to an agreement.

He pulled away from the apartment and headed home, thinking he now had a better grasp on the situation. He was making progress, doing the right thing. So why did the thought of taking his child from Ashley suddenly feel so wrong?




Chapter Three


“Mind if I join you?”

Ashley looked up from her glass of milk as Hunter slid into the opposite side of the booth. She refused to turn to see how many of the restaurant patrons were members of the legal community. It was ridiculous to hope no one had noticed Hunter’s arrival, or his destination. The man stood as tall as an oak tree and had dark good looks that naturally drew attention. Not hers, but others. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Eating lunch with the prettiest woman in Hale, Texas,” he said, flashing her a crooked smile that sent a jolt of awareness through her.

It was just the raging hormones she’d heard all pregnant women experienced. Under normal conditions, she wouldn’t notice the tantalizing scent of his cologne—a heady mix of arrogance and potent male—or find him the least bit attractive. But from the moment the assistant district attorney had stormed into the conference room and staked his claim, nothing had been normal. And in spite of knowing better, she couldn’t stop the warmth that spiraled through her or the welcoming smile that worked its way to her lips. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me, Hunter Morgan. I’m on to you. It won’t work.”

He chuckled, a low rumbling sound that plucked a chord of need deep inside her. “In that case, I won’t bother telling you how that leopard print brings out the little gold flecks in your eyes. If you were a prosecution witness, I’d send you home to change into basic black, something conservative that buttons all the way to the neck and has long sleeves.”

“Why?” she heard herself ask, intrigued by the slant of the conversation and the way he watched her, the way he made her feel all warm and tingly on the inside.

His blue eyes darkened. His expression turned serious. “The way you’re dressed now,” he said, his gaze assessing, lingering here and there in a most disconcerting manner, “is quite distracting. All the men on the jury would be so busy ogling you, they wouldn’t hear a word of your testimony.”

It was working. Darn him. In spite of who he was and what she knew he was after, his seductive charm was doing a number on her. Hormones, she reminded herself. It was only a rush of hormones. No, it was more than that. More like an earthquake, a volcanic eruption or a tornado.

“I suppose I can see where, assuming the jurors are all males of reproductive age, they might be somewhat distracted by certain clothing on a woman,” she said.

“A very attractive woman.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “And what age group do you consider to fall into that reproductive stage?”

Oh, dear. She cleared her throat as she considered his question. “I assume that would be college—”

“Lower.”

“High school—”

“Lower.”

She blinked. “I, uh, wasn’t fortunate enough to have any brothers, so I’m rather ill equipped—”

“Oh, I think you’re very well equipped.” He flashed her a wicked smile that warned her he was up to no good. “Try junior high.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she fought the urge to cover her face with her hands. “Really?”

“Pretty close.” His blue eyes danced with mirth. “Go on.”

How had she gotten herself into this? “All right, Mr. M—”

“Hunter.”

“Very well, Hunter. From junior high school to…” She thought about it a moment, then smiled. “From junior high to sixty-five.”

One brow arched, and he shook his head.

“Seventy?”

Nothing.

“Eighty?”

Still nothing.

She frowned at him. “Death?”

“Exactly. So you can see how we have to pay careful attention to what a witness wears. If the woman is a looker, like you, then it’s really a problem.”

A looker? Her?

Thankfully, a waitress who barely looked old enough to be out of school sauntered to their table and settled a huge glass of iced tea in front of Hunter. “You want the usual?”

“Sure thing.”

She nodded and moved to the next booth.

“You come here often?” Ashley asked, hoping to distract him from their earlier topic. Funny how his smile and easy banter had almost made her forget why he was hounding her. Almost.

He took a drink from the glass and shrugged. “Couple of times a week.”

“Do you always sit with available women, or is it just that you’re getting even with me for last night?”

“Getting even?”

“Once my boss hears we’ve had lunch together, he’ll probably fire me. I’m sure he would never believe we talked about witnesses.”

“And sex,” Hunter added with a devilish grin.

“Yes, and that.” Ashley cleared her throat and met his gaze. “Isn’t there some other woman in Hale you could pester? Why me?”

“Because you’re pregnant with my child.”

Ashley looked around to see if anyone paid them any attention. “Don’t say that so loud.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

She sighed. “Hunter, why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“You know what I want. Since you weren’t interested in my last offer, I thought we might negotiate, but if you would rather I go, then—”

“No.” In her haste to stop him from leaving, she knocked over her glass of milk, sending its contents into his lap.

Hunter righted the glass, then slid from the booth and picked up his napkin, still wrapped around his silverware.

Mortified by what she had done, Ashley grabbed her own napkin from her lap and stood. When she tried to dab at the milk soaking his pants, he caught her wrist. “I’m not sure you really want to do that.”

The waitress who had rushed to mop up the spill smiled as she smoothed the towel over the table before walking away.

Ashley shoved the napkin in his hand and returned to her seat, unable to look him in the face. Her cheeks burned at the thought of what she had almost done, what she had almost touched. She groaned, wondering if anyone would notice if she crawled under the table.

When Hunter slipped into the booth, he sat watching her, but she refused to have anything further to do with him.

“Ashley, look at me.” His fingers cupped her chin and turned her head. “Don’t worry about the pants. I have plenty of time to change before court resumes.”

“Have your suit cleaned and send me the bill.” She couldn’t remember when she’d been more embarrassed. “I believe you mentioned wanting to negotiate.” She wanted to change the subject and try to forget she had just dumped milk in the assistant D.A.’s lap.

“I still think the six-month split would work, but since you aren’t receptive, how would you feel about me taking summers and every other weekend? On even years, I’d get Thanksgiving, Fourth of July and Christmas holidays. And Easter, Labor Day, Memorial Day, spring break and birthdays on odd years.”

That wasn’t what she had hoped to hear. Her idea of a negotiation was him deciding a supervised dinner once a year would suffice. “I know you think I’m not being fair, but darn it, Hunter, my dream of having a family didn’t include you.”

“Then you’re rejecting my offer?”

“No, I haven’t rejected it…exactly. It’s just going to take a little time for me to get used to the idea of having to share my child.” Then again, it might take forever.

“So you’ll consider it?” He lifted his tea and drank, drawing her eyes to his tanned throat and how it worked as he swallowed.

She noticed the rising temperature and decided it must be a combination of the crowded dining area and the cooking going on in the kitchen. Wanting only to get rid of Hunter, she decided to agree. It wasn’t like she couldn’t later change her mind. Her prerogative. “I’ll give it some thought. It might be workable.” But she doubted it.

The waitress placed a huge platter containing a thick steak and fries in front of Hunter, then refilled his glass of tea and glanced at Ashley. “Do you want more milk?”

“No, thank you,” Ashley said, watching the waitress as she moved to the next table.

Hunter cut into the meat and took a bite. “Aren’t you eating?”

“No.” She stared at the pink liquid pooling on his plate and shivered. “Hunter, I don’t think that cow’s dead.”

“It’s a little rare, but I’ve had worse.”

“A little rare? It looks like it could crawl off your plate.” It sure was making her stomach crawl. When he cut another bite, she shuddered, wondering how he would feel about her getting sick on his loafers now that she had already dumped her milk in his lap.

“You’re looking a little green. Are you okay?”

She made the mistake of looking at his meal again. Bile rose in her throat. Catching the end of the table, Ashley grabbed her purse and stood. A mild cramp caught her unaware. She remained still, placing her hand over her stomach.

Hunter dropped his fork and was instantly at her side, slipping his arm around her waist. “Is something wrong?”

Ashley inhaled slowly, then shook her head. “Just a twinge. It’s okay now.” She withdrew from his grasp and returned to her seat. “Hunter, sit down. People are staring.”

He continued to stand there, frowning at her. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Hospital? Goodness no. It was just a little cramp. Pregnant women have all kinds of little aches and pains that mean nothing.” At least that’s what her neighbor had told her when she’d gone over there the night before. After Hunter had left, Ashley had started feeling weird, so she’d sought out Martha, who was a nurse and had three kids. Martha had assured her that unless there were other symptoms, a twinge or two was nothing to be concerned about. So far, there had been nothing, except nausea which Martha had assured her was normal.

Finally he returned to his seat. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. My stomach’s just rebelling from having to watch you eat that near-raw meat. You know, that really is disgusting.”

He gave her a look filled with doubt. Finally he retrieved his fork. “A growing boy can’t survive on a glass of milk…and neither can a pregnant woman. Do you always skip lunch? If it’s money—”

“It has nothing to do with money. I usually eat, but didn’t feel like it today.” She pulled two dollars from her purse and dropped them on the table as she slid from the booth, catching her jacket. “This has been a real experience, Hunter, but some of us have to work for a living.”

“I’ll get it.” He lifted the money and shoved it back in her purse. “Listen, Ashley, if you don’t get to feeling better, I’d like you to see a doctor. I also want your promise to call me if you have any problems, any at all.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with me, except a queasy stomach.”

He lowered his fork to the edge of his plate. “If you won’t give me your word to call if you need me, then I suppose I can check on you every few hours.”

She knew he would, too. Blast him. “Oh, all right.”

His lips lifted in a smile that stole her breath. “Good girl.”

Ashley glanced at her watch and groaned. “I’ve got to go. I’m already late.”

“Here.” He tugged his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a business card, then scribbled two numbers on the reverse side. “This is my office number. The ones I added on the back are my home and cell numbers.”

“Thanks. I’m really sorry about your suit.” Ashley accepted the card and stuck it in her pocket as she hurried from the restaurant, intending to trash it the first chance she got. He was being overcautious. She never should have had lunch with him, not that he’d given her much choice. Still, she shouldn’t have had such a good time. Drat him. It was all his fault. No way would she ever call him, no matter the reason.

She hurried down the sidewalk, uncomfortable with the thought that Hunter worried about her welfare. It also pleased her, and darned if she knew why. He was everything she disliked in a man. She supposed nagging someone to death came naturally since he was a prosecutor, but he was driving her nuts. And darn it all, she was starting to enjoy it.

Had he really expected her to jump at his new offer? If so, he was a poor judge of character. Or maybe she was different than the females he knew. She found herself wondering about the kind of women he dated and whether he had a special someone in his life. Maybe his significant other would be jealous and put a stop to any notion he had of claiming this baby. If Ashley were Hunter’s woman, she wouldn’t like the idea of him fathering a child with another. Not that they—she and Hunter—had created this baby in the traditional way. Funny that she had no trouble at all envisioning him tangled in black satin sheets…naked.

She hurried inside the office, intending to throw his business card away at her first opportunity. She dug it from her pocket, then paused.

She tightened her hand around the paper, crumpling it, but couldn’t bring herself to drop it in the trash. More than once she’d discovered her boss going through her waste-basket in search of a discarded document draft. It wouldn’t do for him to stumble across Hunter Morgan’s business card with his home and cell numbers scrawled on the back. No telling what Mr. Williams would think. She shoved the card in her purse, promising to get rid of it when she got home.

Her inability to discard the numbers had nothing to do with Hunter telling her she was a looker. Nothing at all.

At four o’clock that afternoon, Hunter had given up on getting any work done. The arraignment had gone without a hitch and he’d gone to the high school to meet with the counselor and troubled teen Greg Johnson. Things had gone from bad to worse when Greg had walked out before giving them a chance to really talk. Several times Hunter had felt the urge to call Ashley after he’d returned to the office, had even picked up the phone a time or two, only to hang up at the last minute.

Now he sat in his pickup outside her apartment, waiting for her to get home so he could make sure she was all right. He’d thought to swing by her office, but decided she would have a fit and what little progress he’d made with her would be lost. He knew his being there was stupid, but since lunch, he’d had a niggling feeling something wasn’t right, that Ashley needed him. He’d always been one to play his hunches and would do so now.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/belinda-barnes/daddy-s-double-due-date/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.