then filled with insult. “I’m sure because I am a pregnant woman you’re thinking all sorts of things anyway.”
He was. But not the sort of things she believed he was thinking. And suddenly Jack decided he couldn’t let her know he was Trent’s uncle. At least, not for now. If he expected to find out who she really was and if her baby had any connection to his nephew, he was going to have to be very guarded about himself.
His gaze dropped to her left hand. There was no engagement ring or wedding band of any sort and she hadn’t corrected him when he’d addressed her as Miss.
“You’re not married to this Trent guy?”
She shook her head as a puzzled frown creased her face. “Why would you want to know?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “No reason, actually. But the way you were calling his name—you sounded pretty desperate to see him.”
Grace had been desperate to see Trent. Five months had passed since he’d left her and the baby behind. And during that time she’d mostly accepted the fact that he didn’t want her in his life. Especially on a long-term basis. But she’d hoped—prayed—that he would return for the baby’s sake.
“Yes,” she quietly admitted.
When she didn’t elaborate he asked, “Are you…planning on marrying this guy?”
A sad little smile curved her full lips. The expression bothered Jack more than he cared to acknowledge.
“No.”
His brows lifted ever so slightly. “Is he…the father of your baby?”
A shadow crossed over her face, closing it off to Jack.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “But I—have to get home now. Goodbye, Jack Barrett.”
For a moment, as she stepped past him, he considered latching onto her arm and stopping her. But he didn’t. She obviously didn’t want to talk to him. And he was in no position to press her without making himself appear suspicious.
When he heard the screen door softly bang behind her, Jack walked to the front of the bungalow and peered through the front screen.
Grace Holliday was crossing the small lawn in the direction of the house next door. Her head was down, her steps slow. No doubt she dreaded going home to face her parents with the news that it hadn’t been Trent she’d found next door, but an older, wiser and much more hardened man.
Hell, he very much doubted Trent was the father of her child anyway. If his nephew had stayed in the bungalow earlier this year, he’d no doubt brought friends along with him. If there was one thing Jack did know, Trent had always had plenty of buddies hanging around him. She could have gotten tangled up with one of Trent’s friends and was now looking for him to help her in some way.
One way or the other, Jack was going to find out. If for no other reason than his sister’s sake. Jillian was ten years older than Jack and had been divorced almost as many years as Trent had been living. The boy’s father had skipped out not long after the kid had been born, leaving Jillian to raise her son alone. The last thing his sister needed was for some money-hungry young woman to slap a lawsuit on her son.
By the time Grace entered the house and sank onto the side of the old four-poster, she was visibly trembling.
Clamping her hands together, she closed her eyes and willed the image of Jack Barrett away. She didn’t know who he was or why he was in Trent’s house. Yet one thing had been clearly certain, he hadn’t taken kindly to her little visit.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked hard, determined to keep them at bay. It was far too late for tears or disappointment, she fiercely told herself.
Still, when she’d first seen the light in the bungalow her heart had soared. She’d been certain Trent had come back. Not for her. No, any hope she’d had for the two of them had died months ago when she’d first told him about the baby. The news had forced him into admitting he’d never really loved her. And had never intended to have a lifelong relationship with her. He’d simply come to Biloxi for a bit of fun and to wind down from final exams at Texas University in Austin.
After the initial shock and pain of being used had worn off, Grace had accepted the fact that she’d been a fool. And slowly the feelings she’d had for Trent had died. But since then she’d kept hoping, praying, he would return for the baby’s sake. She wanted her child to have a father. She wanted her son or daughter to know it was loved by both parents. And tonight, for a brief moment as she’d raced to the bungalow, she’d thought her hopes had come true.
Instead she’d discovered a man quite unlike any she’d ever encountered. Sensuality had oozed from every pore of his body. Just looking at him had made her quiver with an awareness she’d never before felt.
She’d not allowed herself the time to ask if he’d had a family or if he were planning to stay for a while. Getting away from his prying gray eyes had been of the utmost urgency in Grace’s mind. Yet even now, in the safety of her bedroom, she could still feel his gaze on her face and body.
He was not the sort of neighbor she would have chosen to have move in beside her. A big family with lots of happy, rowdy kids would have been more to her liking than Jack Barrett. From the look on his brooding face, she’d gotten the impression he’d wanted to either clamp his fingers around her neck or kiss her.
Shivering at the thought, she reached over and switched off the lamp at the head of the bed, then slowly undressed in the darkness. She had to forget about the man. Tomorrow was going to be another long, tiring day. She had to be rested and ready.
The next morning Jack’s secretary, Irene, answered his call on the fourth ring.
“What in hell are you doing?” he barked into the receiver. “Eating bonbons?”
“No, trying to seduce one of your clients. But he hightailed it out of here after the third ring. You have rotten timing, Jack. Besides, what are you doing calling the office? The doctor wanted you out of this place for a while, remember?”
Heaving a weary sigh, Jack tilted his head back far enough so that he could get a view of the house next door. Early this morning, before he’d cooked himself breakfast, he’d watched Grace carry an armload of books and a straw tote bag out to the car parked in the driveway. Her black hair had been down on her shoulders and the sea wind had whipped strands of it across her face and tugged at the tail of her long flowered skirt as she’d lowered herself into the little compact car.
Moments later she’d driven off in the direction of Gulfport, and so far she hadn’t returned. Nor had anyone else stirred around the big old house.
“I’m not in the office, Irene. I’m merely talking to you.”
“I don’t know why. You said you didn’t give a damn if you ever saw this place again,” Irene reminded him. “You said you never wanted to hear another phone, alarm clock, radio or TV. And you especially didn’t want to hear a judge’s rulings, a witness’s testimony or a client whining for a larger settlement.”
“That’s true,” he said curtly. “And I meant every word.”
He set his empty coffee cup on a low table in front of the couch, while Irene made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.
“So you’re quitting Barrett, Winslow and Layton?”
Was he? Jack asked himself. In his eyes, quitting was akin to losing. And Jack had never lost a case in the courtroom. He didn’t know how to lose. But the job was getting more and more meaningless. And so stressful that two days ago he’d wound up in his doctor’s office with a stomach full of fire and blood pressure high enough to kill him.
For thirty minutes he’d listened to the doctor lecture him about burying himself in his work and not taking time out for life outside his law practice. Hell, Jack didn’t have a life outside the office and he’d told the doctor so.
“Then